# San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 112

CHAPTER CXII.
Yu Ch‘uan Dies Nobly at Shouch‘un; Chiang Wei Fights Fiercely at Ch‘angch‘eng.
Hearing of this threatened attack, Ssŭma sought advice from two of his officers, P‘ei Hsiu, a Leader of Irregular Cavalry, and Chung Hui, a civil official.
The latter said, “The Wu army is helping our enemies for the sake of profit, and hence we can seduce them with an offer of greater profit.”
Ssǔma agreed in this opinion and resolved accordingly. As part of his plan, he sent to lay ambushes in different places near Shiht‘ouch'êng.
As ordered by Ssŭma, Ch'êng Ts‘ui led several legions out to bring on a battle, while Ch'ên Chün got together many waggons, herds of oxen, droves of horses, donkeys and mules, and heaps of military supplies, all of which he crowded together in the midst of the army. This stuff was meant to be abandoned as soon as the fight began, so that the enemy might be tempted to plunder.
The armies being drawn up, Chuko Tan looked across at his opponents and saw that the centre of the Wei army was taken up by a disorderly mass of transport. Presently he led on his men to attack, and Ch'êng Ts‘ui, as bidden to do gave way and fled, leaving a large amount of spoil. When the men of Wu saw such huge quantities of booty, theirs for the taking, they lost all desire to fight and scattered to gather the spoil.
While thus occupied, suddenly a bomb exploded and down came the men of Wei upon the spoilers. Chuko Tan attempted to draw off, but other forces appeared, and he was sore smitten. Then came on Ssǔma with his army, and Chuko fled to Shouch‘un, where he entered and shut the gates. The army of Wei sat down to the siege of the city, and the army of Wu retired into camp at Anfêng. The King of Wei was lodging at this time in Hsiang-ch'êng.
Then said Chung Hui, “Chuko Tan has been worsted, but the city wherein he has taken refuge is well supplied, and his allies, the men of Wu, are not distant. His position is strong. Our soldiers are besieging the city all round, which means that those within will hold out for a long time, or they will make a desperate sortie. Their allies also may fall upon us ​at the same time, and it would go hard with us. Therefore I advise that the attack be made only on three sides, leaving the south gate open for them if they wish to flee. If they flee, we can fall on the fugitives. The men of Wu cannot have supplies for very long, and if we sent some light cavalry round by their rear we might stay their fighting power without a battle.”
“You are my Tzu-fang (Chang Liang)", said Ssǔma, stroking the back of his adviser. Your advice is excellent.”
So Wang Chi, who was on the south of the city, was ordered to withdraw.
But in the Wu camp at Anfêng was much sadness at the want of success. The General Sun Ch'ên said to his captain Chu I, “I have given up all hope of succouring Shouch‘un, and overrunning the north is out of the question. Now and here you have to win a victory or die, for another defeat will mean death.”
The threatened leader went back to his camp and talked with Yü Ch‘üan. Yü said, “The south gate is free, and I will lead therein some of our men to help Chuko. Then you challenge the Wei army, and we will come out from the city and attack.”
Chu I thought the plan good, and many captains were willing to go into the city and share in the attack. They were allowed to march in without hindrance as the Wei captains had no orders to stop them.
When this was reported to Ssŭma, he said, “This is a plan to defeat our army by making a front and rear attack.”
So he called Wang Chi and Ch'ên Chên and told them to take half a legion to keep the road along which Chu I would come and strike him in rear.
Chu I was advancing toward the city when he heard a shouting in the rear, and soon the attack began from two sides. His army was worsted and returned to Anfêng.
When Sun Ch‘en heard of this new defeat he was very angry.
“What is the use of leaders who always lose?” cried he.
He sentenced the unfortunate general to death and upbraided Ch'üan I, son of Ch'üan Tuan, and said, “If you do not drive off this army of Wei let me never again see your face, nor that of your father.
Then Sun Ch'ên returned to Chienyeh.
When this was known in the Wei camp Chung Hui said to his chief, “Now the city may be attacked, for Sun Ch'ên has gone away, and there is no hope of succour for the besieged.”
A vigorous assault began. Ch'üan I tried to cut his way through and get into the city, but when he saw Shouch‘un quite surrounded by the enemy and no hope of success he gave in and went over to Ssŭma Chao, by whom he was well received and given office.
​Deeply affected by this kindness, he wrote to his father and uncle advising them to follow his example. He tied the letter to an arrow and shot it over the walls. So his father and uncle, with their companies, came out and yielded.
Within the city Chuko Tan was very sad. Two advisers came to him to urge him to fight, since the food in the city was short. He turned on them angrily.
“Why do you tell me to fight when I am set on holding out to the very last? If you say that again you shall die as traitors.”
“He is lost,” said they, going away. “We can do no other than surrender or we shall die too.”
That night they slipped over the wall and surrendered. Both were given employment. Of those left in the city some were for fighting, but no one dared say so.”
Meanwhile the besieged saw the defenders making a wall against the expected floods of the River Huai. This flood had been the only hope of the besieged, who had trusted to be able to smite the besiegers when it came. However, the autumn was dry any and the river did not swell.
Within the besieged city the food diminished rapidly, and soon starvation stared them in the face. Wên Ch‘in and his sons were defending the citadel, and they saw their men sinking one by one for lack of food till the sight became unbearable.
Wên went to Chuko to propose that the northern men should be sent away in order to save food. His suggestion called forth an outburst of fierce wrath.
“Do you want me to kill you that you propose to send them away?”
Wên suffered death. His two sons ran amok with rage. Armed with short swords they attacked all they met and slew many score in their desperate anger. The fit over, they dropped down the wall and deserted to the Wei camp.
However, Ssǔma Chao had not forgotten that one of the two, Wên Ying, had defied and held at bay his whole army. At first he refused to receive the deserter; he even thought to put him to death, but his advisers interposed.
“The real offender was his father,” said Chung Hui, “but he is dead, and these two come to you in desperation, and if you slay those who surrender you will strengthen the obstinacy of those who remain in the city.”
There was reason in this, and so their submission was accepted. They were led to Ssǔma’s tent, and he soothed them with kind words and gave them gifts and employment. After expressing their gratitude they rode about the city on the horses he had given them, shouting, “We have received great kindness at the hands of Ssǔma Chao, who not only has pardoned us but given us gifts. Why do you not all yield?”
​When their companions heard this they said one to another. “This Wên Ying was an enemy, and yet he has been well received; how much more may we expect generous treatment!”
The desire to surrender possessed them all. When Chuko heard it, he was incensed and went round the posts night and day on the watch for any who seemed inclined to go. He put many to death in these efforts to retain his authority.
Chung Hui heard how things were going in the city and went in to the general to say the moment to attack had come. Ssŭma was only too pleased. He stimulated his men, and they flocked to the ramparts and assaulted vigorously. Then a certain captain treacherously opened the north gate and let in the Wei soldiers.
When Chuko heard that the enemy were in the city he called his guards and tried to escape. He took his way along the smaller streets to the gate, but on the drawbridge he met Hu Tsun, who cut him down. His followers were made prisoners.
Wang Chi fought his way to the west gate, where he fell in with the Wu captain, Yü Ch'üan.
“Why do you not yield?” shouted Wang.
“It would be treachery to yield instead of obeying my orders to seek help.” Throwing off his helmet, he cried, “The happiest death a man can die is on the battle-field.”
Whirling his sword about he dashed among his enemies and fought till he fell under many wounds.
Many were they who yielded at Shouch‘un Bowing their heads in the dust before Ssŭma. Wu has produced its heroes, Yet none were faithful to the death like Yü Ch'üan.
When the victor entered the city he put to death the whole family of Chuko. Some of his guards fell into the hands of Ssǔma alive, and he offered them their lives if they would yield. They all refused, saying they would rather share the fate of their leader.
They were sent out of the city to be beheaded, but orders were given to offer each one his life at the last moment. Not one accepted, and they all died. In admiration for their fortitude they were honourably interred.
The loyal servant flees not in the day of disaster; Such were they who followed Chuko to the shades. Ever and again begins the Song of Life’s Brevity. Faithful unto death were they, even as T‘ien Kêng’s men.
As has been said, many of the men of Wu surrendered. Then said P‘ei Hsiu, “The parents and children of these men are scattered all over the east, and if you spare them and they return home they will foment rebellion by and by. The best way is to bury them.”
But Chung Hui said, “No; When the ancients made war their policy was to maintain the state as a whole, and so they ​only put to death the originators of trouble. It would be inhumane to slay all. Rather let them return home as witnesses to your liberal policy.”
“That is better advice,” said Ssŭma. So the men of Wu were released and allowed to return home.
“T‘ang Tzŭ dared not return to his own place for fear of the cruel Sun Ch'ên, so he went over to Wei, taking his company with him. He was well received, and his men spread over the district of the three rivers.
The country about the Huai River being now quiet, Ssǔma decided to march homeward. Just then the news came that Chiang Wei, the Shu General, had taken Ch‘angch'êng and was interfering with the supplies, and so a council was called to discuss this matter.
At this time the period-style in Shu, which had been Yen-Hsi for a score of years, was changed to Ching-Yao. Chiang Wei chose two officers, Chuan Ch‘ien and Chiang Shu, both of whom he loved greatly, and set them to train the army, horse and foot. When again came news that Chuko Tan had set out to destroy Ssŭma Chao and had obtained the support and help of Wu, he said that the great opportunity had come at last, so he asked the king’s authority to make another expedition.
But Ch‘iao Chou heard this with grief, for internal affairs were not well.
Said he, “The court is sunk in dissipation and the king’s confidence is given to that eunuch, Huang Hao; state affairs are neglected for pleasure; which is the king’s sole aim. Chiang Wei has led many expeditions and wasted the lives of many men, so that the state is falling.”
He then wrote an essay on “State Injuries,” which he sent to Chiang Wei.
“When one asks by what means the weak overcame the strong in past times, the answer is that those responsible for the strong state made no struggle against general laxity, while those in power in a weak state took careful steps for improvement. Confusion followed upon laxity and efficiency grew out of diligence, as is the universal rule. King Wên devoted himself to the welfare of his people, and with a small number achieved great results; Kou Chien sympathised with all, and with a weak force overcame a powerful opponent. These were their methods. One may recall that in the past Ch‘u was strong and Han weak when the country was divided by agreement at Hungkou. Then, seeing that his people were satisfied and settled in their minds, Chang Liang went in pursuit of Hsiang Yü and destroyed him.
“But is it necessary to act like King Wên and Kou Chien? Listen to the reply. In the days of Shang and Chou, when ranks had long existed and the relations between prince and ​minister were firmly established, even such as the Founder of the Hans could not have carved his way to a throne. But when the dynasty of Ts‘in had suppressed the feudal nobles and set up mere representatives of its own power, and the people were weak and enslaved, the empire was riven asunder and there succeeded a time of contention, when every bold man strove with his neighbour.
“But we are now in other times. Since there is not the state of confusion that waited on the end of Ts‘in, but a state of things more nearly like that of the period of the Six States, therefore one may play the part of King Wên. If one would found a dynasty, then must he wait upon time and favourable destiny. With these in his favour, the consummation will follow forthwith, as the armies of T‘ang and Wu fought but one battle. Therefore have real compassion for the people and wait on opportunity. If wars are constant, and a mishap come, even the wisest will be unable to show the way of safety.”
“An effusion from the pen of a rotten pedant?” cried Chiang wrathfully as he finished reading, and he dashed the essay on the ground in contempt.
The protest was disregarded, and the army marched.
“In your opinion where should we begin?” asked he of Fu Ch‘ien.
Fu replied, “The great storehouse of Wei is at Ch‘angch'êng and we ought to burn their grain and forage. Let us go out by Lo Valley and cross the Shên Ridge. After the capture of Ch‘angch'êng we can go on to Ch‘inch‘uan and the conquest of the capital will be near.”
“What you say just fits in with my secret plans,” replied Chiang.
So the army marched. The Commander in Ch‘angch‘êng was Ssŭma Wang, of the same clan as the Prime Minister. Huge stores of grain were in the city, but its defences were weak. So a camp was made twenty li from the walls to keep any attack at a distance. Wang Chên and Li P'êng were Ssǔma’s two captains.
When the enemy came up, Ssǔma and his two captains went forth from the ranks to meet them; Chiang Wei stood in the front of his army and said, “Ssǔma Chao, you have forced the King to go with you to war, which plainly indicates that you intend to emulate the deeds of Li Ts‘ui and Kuo Ssů. My government has commanded me to punish this fault. Wherefore I say to you yield at once, for if you persist in the way of error you and yours shall all be put to death.”
Ssǔma Wang shouted back, “You and yours are wholly strangers to any feeling of rectitude. You have repeatedly invaded a superior state’s territory, and if you do not at once retire I will see to it that not even a breastplate returns.”
​With these words the Captain Wang rode out, his spear set ready to thrust. From the host of Shu came Fu Ch‘ien to take the challenge, and the two champions engaged. After a few encounters Fu tempted his opponent by feigning weakness. Wang thrust at the opening he gave. Fu evaded the blow, snatched Wang out of the saddle and bore him off.
Seeing this, his colleague Li whirled up his sword and went pounding down toward the captor. Fu went but slowly, thus luring Li into rash pursuit. When Li was near enough, Fu dashed his prisoner with all his strength to the earth, took a firm grip on his four-edged brand, and smote his pursuer full in the face. The blow knocked out an eye, and Li fell dead. Wang had been already killed as he lay on the ground. Both captains being dead, the men of Wei fled into the city and barred the gates.
Orders were given for the men to rest that night and take the city on the morrow.
Next day, at dawn, the assault began. The men, fresh from their rest, vied with each other who should be first on the wall. They shot over the ramparts fire-arrows and firebombs and burned all the buildings on the wall. They next brought up brushwood and piled it against the rampart and set it alight, so that the flames rose high.
When the city seemed about to fall, the defenders set up a howling and a lamentation that could be heard all around. But suddenly a great rolling of drums diverted the attention of the assailants from the city, and they turned their faces to see a great host of Wei soldiers marching up in all the glory of waving banners. Chiang Wei faced about to meet this attack and took his place beneath the great standard.
Presently he made out a youthful-looking leader riding in advance with his spear ready to thrust. He looked scarcely more than twenty years of age, his face was smooth as if powdered, and his lips were crimson. But from them came fierce words.
“Do you recognise General Têng?” cried he.
“So this is Têng Ai,” thought Chiang.
Thereupon Chiang set his spear and rode out. Both were adepts in arms and neither gave the other an opening, so that at the end of near half a hundred bouts neither could claim advantage. The youth wielded his spear with perfect skill.
“If I cannot gain the advantage by some ruse, how shall I win?” thought Chiang.
So he turned aside his steed and dashed along a certain road that led to the hills. The youth followed. Presently Chiang slung his spear, laid hands upon his carven bow, chose with care a feathered arrow and laid it on the string. But the youth was quick of eye, and as the bowstring sang he bent his head over the saddle and the arrow passed harmlessly by.
​The next time Chiang turned he saw his pursuer close upon him, and already the spear was threatening his life. But as the youth thrust, Chiang evaded the blow and caught the shaft under his arm. Thus deprived of his weapon, the young man made for his own array.
“What a pity! What a great pity!” cried Chiang, turning to pursue.
He followed Têng close up to the standard, but just as he came near, a warrior came to the front, saying, “Chiang Wei, you fool, do not pursue my son when I am here.”
Chiang Wei was taken aback; so he had only been contending with the son of his real opponent. Although he was astonished at the skill and vigour of the youth, he now knew that a heavier task lay before him and feared lest his steed was then too far spent for the contest.
So he said to Têng Ai, “Seeing things are so, let us both hold off our men till the morrow, when we will fight.”
Têng Ai, glancing around, saw that the place was ill-suited for him, so he agreed to wait, saying “Let us lead off our men then, and whoever shall take any secret advantage is a base fellow.”
Both sides retired into camp, Têng on the bank of the Wei River and Chiang on the hills.
Têng saw that the men of Shu had the advantage of position, so he wrote off at once to Ssŭma Wang not to give battle, but to wait for reinforcements. Meanwhile the men of Shu would be consuming their supply of grain, and he reckoned upon striking his blow when they began to be hungry. He also wrote to Ssŭma Chao for further help.
A messenger was sent to the Wei camp to deliver a letter of battle, the contest to take place the next day. Têng Ai openly accepted, but when morning came and Chiang Wei had arrayed his men, his enemy had not appeared on the field. Nor was there any sign of giving battle, no display of flags or rolling of drums all day.
At nightfall the army of Shu returned to camp and Chiang sent a letter reproaching his opponent with his failure to keep his word. Têng Ai treated the bearer of the letter with great courtesy and explained that he had been indisposed that day, but would certainly fight on the morrow.
But the next day passed also without any move on the part of Wei; and the same thing went on for five days. Then said Fu Ch‘ien to his chief, “There is some knavery afoot, and we must be on our guard.”
“They must be waiting for reinforcements that they may attack on three sides,” said Chiang. “But now will I send into Wu and get Sun Ch'ên to strike at the same time as I.
​Just then came news of the rout of the army of Wu, of the fall of Shouch‘un and the death of Chuko Tan. Moreover, that an army was going to attack Ch‘angch‘êng.
“So our attack on Wei is but a sham!” said Chiang, bitterly. “It is only a picture of a Cake.”
Four times he missed! he hailed The fifth occasion joyfully,—and failed.
The next chapter will tell the story of the retreat.