# San Kuo/Volume 1/Chapter 59

CHAPTER LIX.
Hsu Ch‘u Strips for a Fight with Ma Ch‘ao: Ts‘ao Ts‘ao Writes a Letter to Sow Dissension.
The fight narrated in the last chapter lasted till morn when each side drew off, Ma Ch‘ao camping on the Wei River, whence he kept up harassing attacks both day and night. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, also camped in the bed of the same river, began to construct three floating bridges out of his rafts and boats so as to facilitate communication with the south bank. Ts‘ao Jên established a camp on the river, which he barricaded with his carts and waggons.
Ma Ch‘ao determined to destroy this camp, so his men collected straw and each man marched with a bundle and took fire with him. Han Sui’s men were to fight. While one party attacked, the other party piled up the straw, which they lit, and soon there was a fierce fire all around fierce fire all around. The defenders could do nothing against it so they abandoned the camp and ran away. All the transport and bridges were destroyed. It was a great victory for the Hsiliang army and gave them the command of the River Wei.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao was sad at the failure to make good his strong camp and fearful of his defencelessness. Then Hsün Yu proposed a mud wall. So three legions were set to build a mud rampart. The enemy seeing this harassed the workmen with perpetual attacks at different points so that the work went slowly. Beside the soil was very sandy and the wall would not stand but collapsed as fast as it was built. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao felt helpless.
It was the ninth month and the fierce cold of winter was just coming on. Ominous clouds covered the sky day after day with never a break. One day as Ts‘ao Ts‘ao sat in his tent, very disheartened, a stranger was announced and was led in. He was an old man who said he had a suggestion to offer. He was tall, sparely built and spiritual looking. He gave his name as Lou Tzu-po and said he came from Chingchao. He was a recluse and a Taoist, his religious name being Mêng-mei or “Plum-blossom Dreamer.” Ts‘ao Ts‘ao received him with great courtesy and presently the venerable one began, “O Minister, you have long been striving to make a camp on the river. Now is your opportunity; why not begin?”
“The soil is too sandy to stand,” said Ts‘ao. “But if you have some other plan to propose, pray tell me what it is, O hermit.”
​“You are more than human, O Minister, in the art of war, and you surely know the times and seasons. It has been overcast for many days and these clouds foretell a north wind and intense cold. When the wind begins to blow you should hurry your men to carry up the earth and sprinkle it with water. By dawn your wall will be complete.”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao seized upon the suggestion. He offered his aged visitor a reward but he would receive nothing.
That night the wind came down in full force. Every man possible was set to earth-carrying and wetting. As they had no other means of carrying water they made stuff bags which they filled with water and let out the water over the earth. And so as they piled the earth they froze it solid with water, and by dawn the wall was finished and stood firm.
When his scouts told Ma Ch‘ao that the enemy had built a wall, and he had ridden out and seen it, he was greatly perplexed and began to suspect help from the gods.
However, very soon after he got his whole army together and sounded an attack. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao himself rode out of the camp, with only the redoubtable Hsü Ch‘u in attendance, and advanced toward the enemy. Flourishing his whip he called out, “I, Mêng-tê, am here alone and I beg Ma Ch‘ao to come out to parley with me.”
Thereupon Ma Ch‘ao rode out, his spear set ready to thrust.
“You despised me because I had no wall to my camp but lo! in one single night, God has made me a wall. Do you not think it time to give in?”
Ma Ch‘ao was so enraged that he almost rushed at Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, but he was not too angry to notice the henchman behind him, glaring in angry fashion, who held a gleaming sword in his grip. He thought this man could be no other than Hsü Ch‘u, so he determined to find out. With a flourish of his whip he said, “Where is the noble 'Tiger Marquis' that I hear you have in your camp?”
At this Hsü lifted his sword and roared, “I am Hsü Ch‘u of Ch‘iaochün!” From his eyes shot gleams of supernatural light and his attitude was so terror-striking that Ma dared not move. He turned his steed and retired.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao and his doughty follower returned to their camp and as they two passed between the armies not a man there but felt a quiver of fear.
“They know our friend Hsü Ch‘u over there as Marquis Tiger,” said Ts‘ao Ts‘ao when he returned.
And thereafter the soldiers all called him by that name.
“I will capture that fellow Ma to-morrow,” said Hsü.
“Ma Ch‘ao is very bold,” said his master. “Be careful.”
“I swear to fight him to the death,” said Hsü.
​Then he sent a written challenge to his enemy saying that the “Tiger Marquis” challenged Ma Ch‘ao to a decisive duel on the morrow.
Ma Ch‘ao was very angry when he received the letter. “Dare he insult me so?” cried he. Then he wrote his pledge to slay Tiger-lust on the morrow.
Next day both armies moved out and arrayed in order of battle. Ma Ch‘ao gave P‘ang Tê and Ma Tai command of the two wings, while Han Sui took the centre. Ma Ch‘ao took up his station in front of the centre and called to Tiger-lust to come out. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, who was on horseback by the standard, turned and said, “He is no less bold than Lü Pu.”
As he spoke, Hsü Ch‘u rode forth whirling his sword and the duel began. They fought over a hundred bouts and neither had the advantage. But then, their steeds being spent with galloping to and fro, each retired within his own lines and obtained a fresh mount. The contest was renewed and a hundred more encounters took place, still without victory to either.
Suddenly Hsü Ch‘u galloped back to his own side, stripped off his armour, showing his magnificent muscles and, naked as he was, leaped again into the saddle and rode out to continue the battle.
Again the champions engaged, while both armies stood aghast. Thirty bouts more, and Hsü, summoning up all his force, plunged toward Ma with his sword held high to strike. But Ma avoided the stroke and rode in with his spear pointing directly at his opponent’s heart. Throwing down his sword, Hsü dashed aside the spear, which passed underneath his arm.
Then ensued a struggle for the spear and Hsü by a mighty effort snapped the shaft so that each held one half. Then the duel was continued, each belabouring the other with the pieces of the broken spear.
At this point Ts‘ao Ts‘ao began to fear for his champion and so ordered two of his captains to go out and take a hand. At this P‘ang Tê and Ma Tai gave the signal to their armoured horsemen to attack. They rode in and a mêlée began in which Ts‘ao’s men were worsted and the great champion Hsü Ch‘u received two arrow wounds in the shoulder. So the men of Ts‘ao retreated to their stockade, Ma Ch‘ao following them to the river. Ts‘ao’s men lost more than half their number.
Ts‘ao barred his gates and allowed none to go out. Ma Ch‘ao went down to the river. When he saw Han Sui he said, “I have seen some wicked fighters, but none to match that man. He is aptly nicknamed Tiger-lust.”
Thinking that by strategy he might get the better of Ma Ch‘ao, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao secretly sent two bodies of men across the river to take up position so that he might attack in front and rear.
​One day from his ramparts, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao saw Ma Ch‘ao and a few horsemen ride close up to the walls and then gallop to and fro like the wind. After gazing at them for a long time he tore off his helmet and dashed it on the ground saying, “If that Ma is not killed may I never be buried!”
Hsiahou Yüan heard him and his heart burned within him. He cried, “May I die here at once if I do not destroy that rebel!”
Without more ado he flung open the gates and rode out with his company. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao tried to stop this mad rush, but it was no good, so, fearing he might come to grief, he rode out after him. At sight of the men of Ts‘ao, Ma Ch‘ao faced his men about extended them in line and, as the enemy approached, dashed forward to the attack. Then noticing Ts‘ao himself among them he left Hsiahou and rode straight for Ts‘ao. Panic seized Ts‘ao and he rode for his life, while his men were thrown into confusion.
It was during the pursuit of this portion of the Ts‘ao army that Ma Ch‘ao was told of the force on the other bank of the river. Realising the danger he abandoned the pursuit, called in his men and went to his own camp, there to consult with Han Sui.
“What now? Ts‘ao has crossed the river and we can be attacked in the rear,” said Ma.
A certain Li K‘an said, “Then you had better come to an agreement; sacrifice some territory and make peace. Then both can repose through the winter and await the changes and chances that may come with the spring warmth.”
“He is wise,” said Han Sui, “and I advise the same.”
But Ma Ch‘ao hesitated. Others exhorted him to make peace and at length he agreed. So Yang Ch‘iu and Hou Hsüan were sent as messengers of peace to the camp of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao.
“You may return; I will send my reply,” said Ts‘ao when they had declared the purport of their mission. And they left.
Then Chia Yu said to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, “What is your opinion, O Minister?”
“What is yours?” asked Ts‘ao.
“War allows deceit, therefore pretend to agree. Then we can try some means of sowing suspicions between Han and Ma so that we may thereby destroy both.”
Ts‘ao clapped his hands for very joy. “That is the best idea of all! Most suitable! You and I agree in our ideas; I was just thinking of that.”
So an answer was returned saying, “Let me gradually withdraw my soldiers and I will give back the land belonging to you on the west of the river.” And at the same time Ts‘ao ordered the construction of a floating bridge to help in the withdrawal.
​When the reply arrived, Ma Ch‘ao said to Han Sui, “Although he agrees to peace, yet he is evil and crafty. We must remain prepared against his machinations. Uncle, you and I will take turns in watching Ts‘ao and Hsü Huang on alternate days. So shall we be safe against his treachery.”
They agreed and began the regular alternate watch. Soon Ts‘ao got to know what they were doing and he turned to Chia Hsü saying, “I am succeeding.”
“Who keeps the look-out on this side to-morrow?” asked Ts‘ao.
“Han Sui.”
Next day Ts‘ao at the head of a large party of his captains rode out of the camp and the officers presently spread out right and left, he himself remaining a solitary rider visible in the centre. Han Sui did not know that Ts‘ao had come out. Presently Ts‘ao called out, “Do any of you soldiers want to see Ts‘ao Ts‘ao? Here I am quite alone. I have not four eyes nor a couple of mouths, but I am very knowing.”
The soldiers turned pale with fright. Then Ts‘ao called up a man and told him to go and see Han Sui and say “Sir, the Minister humbly asks you to come and confer with him.' Thereupon Han went out, and seeing Ts‘ao wore no armour, Han also threw off his and rode out clad in a light robe. Each rode up to the other till their horse’s heads nearly touched and there they stood talking.
Said Ts‘ao, “Your father and I took our degrees at the same time and I used to treat him as an uncle. You and I set out on our careers at the same time, too, and yet we have not met for years. How old may you be now?”
“I am forty six,” replied Han.
“In those old days in the capital we were both very young and never thought about middle age. If we could only restore tranquillity to the State, that would be a matter of rejoicing.”
After that they chatted long about old times, but neither said a word on military matters. They gossiped for a couple of hours before they took leave of each other.
It was not long before some one told Ma Ch‘ao of this meeting and he went over to his ally to ask about it.
“What was it Ts‘ao Ts‘ao came out to discuss to-day?” said he.
“He just recalled the old days when we were together in the capital.”
“Did he say nothing about military matters?”
“Not a word; and I could not talk about them alone.”
Ma Ch‘ao went out without a word but he felt suspicious.
When Ts‘ao returned to his camp he said to Chia Hsü, “Do you know why I talked with him thus publicly?”
“It may be an excellent idea," said Hsü, “but it is not sufficient simply to estrange two people. I can improve on it and we will make them quarrel and even kill each other.”
​“What is your scheme?”
“Ma Ch‘ao is brave but not very astute. You write a letter with your own hand to Han himself and put in it some rambling statements about some harm that is going to happen. Then blot it out and write something else. Afterwards you will send it to Han, taking care that Ma shall know all about it. He will demand to read the letter, and when he sees that the important part of the letter has been changed, he will think that Han Sui has made the changes lest his secrets should leak out. This will fit into the private talk you had with Han the other day and the suspicion will grow until it has brought about trouble. I can also secretly corrupt some of his subordinates and get them to widen the breach and we can settle Ma Ch‘ao.”
“The scheme looks excellent,” said Ts‘ao, and he wrote the letter as suggested, and then erased and changed it, after which he sealed it securely and sent it across to Han Sui.
Surely enough some one told Ma Ch‘ao about the letter, which increased his doubts, and he came to Han Sui’s quarters to ask to see it. Han gave it to him and the erasures and alterations struck Ma at once.
“Why are all these alterations here?” asked he.
“It came like that; I do not know.”
“Does any one send a rough draft like this? It seems to me, Uncle, that you are afraid I shall know something or other too well and so you have changed the wording.”
“It must be that Ts‘ao has sealed up the rough draft by mistake.”
“I do not think so make such a mistake. He is a careful man and would not You and I, Uncle, have been allies in trying to slay the rebel; why are you turning against me now?”
“If you doubt my word I will tell you what you can do. To-morrow, in full view of the army, I will get Ts‘ao Ts‘ao to come out and talk. You can hide in behind the ranks ready to kill me if I am false.”
“That being so I shall know that you are true, Uncle.”
This arrangement made, next day Han Sui with five captains in his train, rode to the front while Ma Ch‘ao concealed himself behind the great standard. Han Sui sent over to say that he wished to speak to the Minister.
Thereupon at his command, Ts‘ao Hung, with a train of ten horsemen rode out, advanced straight to Han Sui, leaned over to him and said, loudly enough to be heard plainly, “Last night the Minister quite understood there is no mistake.” Then without another word on either side he rode away.
Ma Ch‘ao had heard. He gripped his spear and started galloping out to slay his companion in arms. But the five captains checked him and begged him to go back to camp. ​When Han Sui saw him, he said, “Nephew, trust me, really I have no evil intentions.”
But think you that Ma Ch‘ao did? Burning with rage he went away. While Han Sui talked over the matter with his five captains.
“How can this be cleared up?”
“Ma Ch‘ao trusts too much to his strength,” said Yang Ch‘iu, one of them. “He is always inclined to despise you, Sir. If we overcome Ts‘ao Ts‘ao do you think he will give way to you? I think you should rather take care of your own interests, go over to the Minister’s side and you will surely get rank one day.”
“I was his father’s pledged brother and could not bear to desert him,” said Han Sui.
“It seems to me that as things have come to this pass you simply have to now.”
“Who would act as go-between?” asked Han.
“I will,” said Yang Ch‘iu.
Then Han Sui wrote a private letter which he confided to Yang Ch‘iu, who soon found his way over to the other camp. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao was only too pleased, and he promised that Han Sui should be made Marquis of Hsiliang and Yang Ch‘iu its Prefect. The other confederates should be rewarded in other ways. When the preparations for the act of treachery were complete a bonfire was to be lighted in Han’s camp and all would try to do away with Ma Ch‘ao.
Yang Ch‘u went back and related all this to his chief and Han Sui felt elated at the success of his overtures. A lot of wood was collected in camp at the back of his tent ready for the signal blaze and the five captains got ready for the foul deed. It was decided that Ma Ch‘ao should be persuaded into coming to a banquet and there they would slay him then.
All this was done, but not without some hesitation and delay, and some news of the plot reached Ma Ch‘ao. He found out the careful preparations that had been made and resolved to act first. Leaving Ma Tai and P‘ang Tê in reserve, he chose a few trusted men and with stealthy steps made his way into Han Sui’s tent. There he found Han Sui and his five confederates deep in conversation. He just caught a word or two that Yang Ch‘iu said, “We must not delay, now is the time.”
In burst Ma Ch‘ao raging and yelling, “You herd of rebels! Would you dare to plot against me?”
They were taken aback. Ma Ch‘ao sprang at Han Sui and slashed at his face. Sui put up his hand to ward off the blow and it was cut off. The five drew their swords and set on Ma Ch‘ao and his men who rushed outside, followed by the five who slashed away, but were kept at bay by Ma Ch‘ao’s wonderful swordsmanship. And as the swords flashed, the red ​blood flowed. Soon one of the five was down and a second disabled; then the other three fled.
Ma Ch‘ao ran back into the tent to finish Han Sui but the servants had removed him. Then a torch was lit, and soon there was commotion all through the camp. Ma Ch‘ao mounted his horse, for P‘ang Tê and Ma Tai had now arrived, and the real fight began. Ts‘ao’s men poured in from all sides and the Hsiliang men fought with each other.
Losing sight of his companions, Ma Ch‘ao and a few of his men got to the head of the floating bridge over the Wei just about dawn. There he fell across Li K‘an coming over the bridge. Ma Ch‘ao set his spear and rode at him full tilt. Li K‘an let go his spear and fled. Lucky for him it seemed at first that Yü Chin came up in pursuit. But unable to get near enough to seize Ma Ch‘ao, Yü Chin sent an arrow flying after him. Ma Ch‘ao’s ear caught the twang of the bowstring and he dodged the arrow, which flew on and killed Li K‘an. Ma Ch‘ao turned to attack his pursuer, who galloped away, and then he returned and took possession of the bridge.
Quickly Ts‘ao’s men gathered about him and the fiercest among them, the Tiger Guards, shot arrows at Ma Ch‘ao, which he warded off with his spear shaft so that they fell harmless to the earth. Ma Ch‘ao and his men rode to and fro striking a blow wherever there was a chance, but the enemy were very thick about him and he could not force his way out. In desperation he made a dash northwards and got through, but quite alone. Of his followers every one fell.
Still he kept on dashing this way and that till he was brought down by a crossbow bolt. He lay upon the ground and his enemies were pressing in. But at the critical moment a troop came in from the north-west and rescued him. P‘ang Tê and Ma Tai had come up in the very nick of time.
Thus Ma Ch‘ao was rescued and they set him on one of the soldiers' horses and he again took up the battle. Leaving a trail of blood in his rear he got away north-west.
Hearing that his enemy had got away, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao ordered his captains to pursue him day and night and offered rewards for him dead or alive. For his head the reward was a thousand taels and the marquisate of a fief of a myriad families. If any one captured Ma the reward was the rank of general. Consequently the pursuit was warm as every one was anxious to win renown and reward. Meanwhile careless of all but flight Ma galloped on and one by one his followers dropped by the way. The footmen who were unable to keep up were captured till very few remained and only some score of riders were left. They travelled toward Shênsi.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao in person joined the pursuit and got to Anting, but there Ma Ch‘ao was still far in advance so he gave up and returned. Gradually the captains did the same, all coming ​back to Ch‘angan. Poor Han Sui, with the loss of his left hand, was an invalid, but he was rewarded with the marquisate and his confederates, the five captains, were given rank and office.
Then orders were given to lead the whole army back to the capital. Yang Fou, a military officer of rank, came to Ch‘angan to point out the danger of withdrawal. “Ma Ch‘ao has the boldness of Lü Pu and the heart of a barbarian. Unless you destroy him this time he will come again and he will be both bolder and stronger, and the whole of this district will be lost to the Throne. Wherefore you should not withdraw your army.”
Ts‘ao said, “I would be quite willing to finish the subjugation but there is much to do in the capital and the south is still to conquer. So I cannot remain. But you, Sir, might secure this country for me. Do you consent?”
Yang Fou did consent. And he brought to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s notice Wei K‘ang, who was made Governor, with joint military powers. Just before Yang Fou left he said to Ts‘ao Ts‘ao, “A strong force ought to be left in Ch‘angan, as a reserve in case they be required.”
“That has been already dealt with,” replied Ts‘ao.
Contentedly enough Yang Fou took leave and went away.
His captains asked Ts‘ao to explain his recent policy, since the first out-break at T‘ung Pass and he replied, “The rebel first held the Pass. Had I forthwith taken the east the rebels would have defended the camps one by one and mustered at all the ferries, and I should never have got across the river. So I massed men against T‘ung Pass and made the rebels guard the south so that the west was left open. Thus Hsü Huang and Chu Ling could cross over and I was able later to cross over to the north. Then I made the raised road and the mud rampart to deceive the enemy and cause them to think I was weak and thus embolden them up to the point of attacking without proper preparation. Then I used the clever device of causing dissension in their ranks and was able in one day to destroy the stored up energy of all their forces. It was a thunder clap before you could cover your ears. Yes indeed; the mutations of the art of war can be called infinite.”
“But one thing more puzzled us,” said the officers, “and we ask you to explain it. When you heard the enemy was reinforced you seemed to grow happier. Why was that?”
“Because the Pass was distant and if the rebels had taken advantage of all defensible points and held them, they could not have been quelled in less than a couple of years. When they came on altogether they made a multitude but they were not unanimous. They easily quarrelled and, disunited, were easily overcome. So I had reason to rejoice that they came on altogether.”
​“Indeed no one can equal you in strategy,” said his officers, bowing low before him.
“Still, remember that I rely on you,” said Ts‘ao.
Then he issued substantial rewards to the army and appointed Hsiahou Yüan to the command at Ch‘angan. The soldiers who had surrendered were distributed among the various troops. Hsiahou Yüan recommended Fêng I, and one, Chang Chi, of Kaoling, as his aids.
So the army returned to the capital where it was welcomed by the Emperor in his State chariot. As a reward for his service Ts‘ao Ts‘ao was given the court privileges of omitting his distinctive name when he was received in audience and of proceeding toward the daïs without assuming the appearance of frantic haste. Further he might go to court armed and booted, as did the Han Minister, Hsiao Ho, of old. Whence his prestige and importance waxed mightily.
The fame of these doings penetrated west into Hanchung, and one of the first to be moved to indignation was Chang Lu, Prefect of Hanning. This Chang Lu was a grandson of Chang Ling who retired to Mount Humin, in Ssuch‘uan, where he had composed a work on Taoism for the purpose of deluding the multitude.
Yet all the people respected him, and when he died his son, Chang Hêng, carried on his work, and taught the same doctrines. Disciples had to pay a fee in rice, five measures. The people of his day called him the Rice Thief.
Chang Lu, his son, styled himself Master Superior and his disciples were called commonly devil soldiers. A headman was called Libationer and those who made many converts were called Chief Libationers. Perfect sincerity was the ruling tenet of the cult and no deceit was permitted. When any one fell ill an altar was set up and the invalid was taken into the Room of Silence where he could reflect upon his sins and confess openly. Then he was prayed for. The director of prayers was called Superintending Libationer.
When praying for a person they wrote his name on a slip and his confession and made three copies thereof, called “The writing of the Three Officers.” One copy was burned on the mountain top as a means of informing Heaven; another was burned to inform Earth; and the third was sunk in water to tell the Controller of the Waters. If the sick person recovered he paid as fee five measures of rice.
They had Public Houses of Charity wherein the poor found rice and flesh and means of cooking. Any wayfarer was allowed to take of these according to the measure of his appetite. Those who took in excess would invite punishment from on high. Offences were pardoned thrice; afterwards offenders were punished. They had no officials but all were subject to the control of the Libationers.
​This sort of cult had been spreading in Hanchung for some thirty years and had escaped repression so far because of the remoteness of the district. All the Government did was to give Chang a title and take means to secure from him a full quota of tribute.
When the reports of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s success against the west, and his prestige and influence, reached the Hanchung people they met to consult, for they feared lest, T'êng and Ma being overcome, they would be next invaded. This Chang proposed to the assembly that he should assume the title of Prince of Hanning and superintend the defence.
In reply one Yen Pu said, “The families of this province are reckoned by myriads and there are ample supplies of everything. This place is a natural stronghold. Now Ma Ch‘ao’s soldiers are newly defeated. The fugitives from the Tzuwu Valley are very numerous. My advice is that as Liu Chang of Ichou is weak we should take possession of Hsich‘uan and then you may style yourself Prince as soon as you like.”
This speech greatly pleased Chang Lu, who then began to concert measures with his brother to raise an army.
Stories of the movement reached Hsich‘uan. It is necessary here to say a few words about the west. The governor was Liu Chang, a son of Liu Yen, a descendant from a Prince of the Imperial House. The Prince had been moved out to Chingling some generations ago and the family had settled there. Later, Liu Yen became an official and when he died in due course, his son was recommended for the vacant Prefectship of Ichou. There was enmity between the Prefect and the Changs because some of the latter’s relatives had been put to death.
When he knew of the danger, Liu Chang despatched one P‘ang Hsi as Prefect of Pahsi to ward off Chang Lu. But Liu Chang had always been feeble, and when he received news from his lieutenant of Chang Lu’s movements his heart sank within him for fear and he hastily called in his advisers.
At the council one haughtily said, “My Master, be not alarmed, I am no genius but I have a bit of a healthy tongue and with that I will make Chang Lu afraid even to look this way.”
When plots did grow about the west, It suited Chingchou’s plans the best.
The speaker’s name and lineage will be told in the next chapter.