CHAPTER III.

TUNG CHO SILENCES TING YÜAN:

LI SU BRIBES LÜ PU.

What Tsʻao Tsʻao said was this: “The eunuch evil is of very old

standing, but the real cause of the present trouble is in the improper

influence allowed them by the ruler, and the misplaced favouritism they

have enjoyed. But a gaoler would be ample force to employ against the

evil. Why increase confusion by summoning troops from the provinces?

Any desire to slay them will speedily become known and the plan will

fail.”

“Then Mêng-tê, you have some scheme of your own to further,” said Ho

with a sneer.

“Ho Chin is the man to throw the empire into confusion,” retorted

Tsʻao.

Then Ho Chin sent swift, secret letters far and wide.

It must be recalled here that the now powerful Tung Cho had failed in

his attempt to destroy the Yellow Turban rebellion and would have been

punished but for the protection of the Ten Eunuchs, whom he had bribed

heavily. Later he obtained an important military command in the west.

But he was treacherous and disloyal at heart. So when he received the

summons to the capital he rejoiced greatly and lost no time in obeying

it. He left a son-in-law Niu Fu to hold Shênsi and set out for Loyang.

Li Ju, his adviser and son-in-law said, “Though a formal summons has

come there are many obscurities in it. It would be well to send up a

memorial stating plainly our aims and intentions. Then we can proceed.”

So he composed one something like this: “Thy servant knows that the

continual rebellions owe their origin to the eunuchs who act counter to

all recognised precept. Now to stop the ebullition of a pot the best

way is to withdraw the fire; to cut out an abscess, though painful, is

better than to nourish the evil. I have dared to undertake a military

advance on the capital, and now pray that Chang Jang and the other

eunuchs be removed for the happiness of the Dynasty and of the whole

land.”

Ho Chin read this memorial and showed it to his partisans. Then said

Cheng Tʻai, “A fierce wild beast; if he come his prey will be men.”

Ho Chin replied, “You are too timorous; you are unequal to great

schemes.”

But Lu Chih also said, “Long have I known this man; in appearance

innocent, he is a very wolf at heart. Let him in and calamity enters

with him. Stop him; do not let him come and thus will you avoid

confusion.”

Ho Chin was obstinate and both these men gave up their posts and

retired, as did more than half the ministers of State, while Ho Chin

sent a warm welcome to Tung Cho, who soon camped at Ying Pool.

The eunuchs knew this move was directed against them and recognised

that their only chance for safety was to strike the first blow. So they

first hid a band of armed ruffians in the palace at the Gate of

Abundant Virtue and then went in to see the Empress.

They said, “The General, feigning to act under command, has called up

armies to the capital to destroy us. We pray you, Grandmother, to pity

and save us.”

“Go to the General and confess your faults,” said she.

“If we did then should we be cut to mincemeat. Rather summon the

General into your presence and command him to cease. If he will not,

then we pray but to die in your presence.”

She issued the requisite command and Ho was just going to her when

Chʻên Lin advised him not to enter, saying the eunuchs were certainly

behind the order and meant him harm. But Ho could only see the command

of the Empress and was blind to all else.

“The plot is no longer a secret”; said Yüan Shan, “still you may go if

you are ready to fight your way in.”

“Get the eunuchs out first,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao.

“Silly children!” said Ho. “What can they do against the man who holds

the forces of the Empire in the palm of his hand?”

Shao said, “If you will go, then we will come as a guard, just as a

precaution.”

Whereupon both he and Tsʻao chose a half company of the best men under

their command, at whose head they placed a brother of Yüan Shao, named

Shu.

Yüan Shu, clad in mail, drew up his men outside the Chingso Gate while

the other two went as escort. When Ho Chin neared the palace the

eunuchs said, “The orders are to admit the General and none other.” So

the escort was detained outside.

Ho Chin went in proudly. At the Gate of Abundant Virtue he was met by

the two chief eunuchs and their followers quickly closed in around him.

Ho began to feel alarmed. Then Chang Jang in a harsh voice began to

revile him.

“What crime had Tung Tʻai-hou committed that she should have been put

to death? And when the Mother of the Country was buried, who feigned

sickness and did not attend? We raised you and your paltry, huckstering

family to all the dignity and wealth you have, and this is your

gratitude! You would slay us. You call us sordid and dirty; who is the

cleaner?”

Ho Chin was panic stricken and looked about for a way to escape, but

the eunuchs closed him in and then the assassins appeared and did their

bloody work.

Closing the days of the Hans, and the years of their rule were

near spent,

Stupid and tactless was Ho Chin, yet stood he highest in office;

Many were they who advised him, but he was deaf as he heard not;

Wherefore fell he a victim under the swords of the eunuchs.

So Ho Chin died. Yüan Shao waited long. By and by, impatient at the

delay, he called through the Gate, “Thy carriage waits, O General.” For

reply the head of the murdered officer was flung over the wall.

A decree was proclaimed that Ho Chin had contemplated treachery and

therefore had been slain. It pardoned his adherents. Yüan Shao shouted,

“The eunuchs have slain the minister. Let those who will slay this

wicked party come and help me.”

Then one of Ho Chin’s officers set fire to the gate. Yüan Shu at the

head of his men burst in and fell to slaying the eunuchs without regard

to age or rank. Yüan Shao and Tsʻao Tsʻao broke into the inner part of

the palace. Four of the eunuchs fled to the Blue Flower Lodge where

they were hacked to pieces. Fire raged, destroying the buildings. Four

of the eunuchs led by Chang Jang carried off the Empress, the heir

apparent and the Prince of Chʻên-liu toward the north palace.

Lu Chih, since he had resigned office, was at home, but hearing of the

revolution in the palace he donned his armour, took his spear and

prepared to fight. He saw the eunuch Tuan Kuei hurrying the Empress

along and called out “You rebels, how dare you abduct the Empress?” The

eunuch fled. The Empress leaped out of a window and was taken to a

place of safety.

Wu Kʻuang burst into one of the inner halls where he found Ho Miao,

sword in hand.

“You also were in the plot to slay your brother,” cried he. “You shall

die with the others.”

“Let us kill the plotter against his elder brother,” cried many.

Miao looked around; his enemies hemmed him in on every side. He was

hacked to pieces.

Shao bade his soldiers scatter and seek out all the families of the

eunuchs, sparing none. In that slaughter many beardless men were killed

in error.

Tsʻao Tsʻao set himself to extinguish the fires. He then begged Ho

Tʻai-hou to undertake the direction of affairs and soldiers were sent

to pursue Chang Jang and rescue the young Emperor.

The two chief eunuchs, Chang Jang and Tuan Kuei, had hustled away the

Emperor and the Prince of Chʻên-liu. They burst through the smoke and

fire and travelled without stopping till they reached the Peimang

Hills. It was then the third watch. They heard a great shouting behind

them and saw soldiers in pursuit. Their leader was shouting “Stop,

stop!” Chang Jang, seeing that he was lost, jumped into the river,

where he was drowned.

The two boys ignorant of the meaning of all this confusion and

terrified out of their senses, dared not utter a cry; they crept in

among the rank grass on the river bank and hid. The soldiers scattered

in all directions but failed to find them. So they remained till the

fourth watch, shivering with cold from the drenching dew and very

hungry. They lay down in the thick grass and wept in each other’s arms,

silently, lest any one should discover them.

“This is no a place to stay in,” said the Prince, “we must find some

way out.”

So the two children knotted their clothes together and managed to crawl

up the bank. They were in a thicket of thorn bushes and it was quite

dark. They could not see any path. They were in despair when, all at

once, millions of fireflies sprang up all about them and circled in the

air in front of the Emperor.

“God is helping us,” said the Prince.

They followed whither the fireflies led and gradually got into a road.

They walked till their feet were too sore to go further, when, seeing a

heap of straw near the road, they crept to it and lay down.

This heap of straw was close to a farm house. In the night, as the

farmer was sleeping, he saw in a vision two bright red suns drop behind

his dwelling. Alarmed by the portent he hastily dressed and went forth

to look about him. Then he saw a bright light shooting up from a heap

of straw. He hastened thither and then saw two youths lying behind it.

“To what household do you belong, young gentlemen?” asked he.

The Emperor was too frightened to reply, but his companion said, “He is

the Emperor. There has been a revolution in the palace and we ran away.

I am his brother Prince of Chʻên-liu.”

The farmer bowed again and again and said, “I am the brother of a

former official and my name is Tsʻui I. My brother was disgusted with

the behaviour of the eunuchs and so resigned and hid away here.”

The two lads were taken into the farm and their host on his knees

served them with refreshment.

It has been said that Min Kung had gone in pursuit of the eunuch Tuan

Kuei. By and by Kung overtook him and cried, “Where is the Emperor?”

“He disappeared. I do not know where he is.”

Kung slew him and hung the bleeding head on his horse’s neck. Then he

sent his men searching in all directions and he rode off by himself on

the same quest. Presently he came to the farm. Tsʻui I, seeing what

hung on his horse’s neck, questioned him and, satisfied with his story,

led him to the Emperor. The meeting was affecting; all were moved to

tears.

“The State cannot be without its ruler,” said Min Kung. “I pray Your

Majesty to return to the city.”

At the farm they had but one sorry nag and this they saddled for the

Emperor. The young prince was taken on Min Kung’s charger. And thus

they left the farm. Soon they fell in with other officials and the

several guards and soldiers made up an imposing cavalcade. Tears were

shed freely as the ministers met their Emperor.

A man was sent on in front to the capital there to expose the head of

the eunuch Tuan Kuei.

As soon as they could they placed the Emperor on a better steed and the

young prince had a horse to himself.

Thus the Emperor returned to Loyang and so it happened after all as the

street boys’ ditty ran:—

Though the Emperor doesn’t rule, though the prince no office fills,

Yet a brilliant cavalcade comes along from Peimang Hills.

The cavalcade had not proceeded far when they saw coming towards them a

large body of soldiers with fluttering banners hiding the sun and

raising a huge cloud of dust. The officials turned pale and the Emperor

was greatly alarmed. Yüan Shao rode out in advance and demanded who

they were. From under the shade of an embroidered banner rode out an

officer demanding if they had seen the Emperor. His Majesty was too

panic-stricken to respond but the Prince of Chʻên-liu rode to the front

and cried, “Who are you?”

Tung Cho replied giving his name and rank.

“Have you come to protect the chariot or to steal it?” said the prince.

“I have come to protect,” said Tung Cho.

“If that is so the Emperor is here; why do you not dismount?”

Cho hastily dismounted and made obeisance on the left of the road. Then

the prince spoke graciously to him.

From first to last the prince had carried himself most perfectly so

that Cho in his heart admired his behaviour, and then arose the first

desire to set aside the Emperor in favour of the prince.

They reached the palace the same day and there was an affecting

interview with Ho Tʻai-hou.

But when they had restored order in the palace the Hereditary Seal, the

special seal of the Emperor, was missing.

Tung Cho camped without the walls but every day he was to be seen in

the streets with an escort of mailed soldiers so that the common people

were in a state of constant trepidation. He also went in and out of the

palace careless of all the rules of propriety.

Pao Hsin spoke of his behaviour to Yüan Shao, saying, “This man

harbours some evil design and should be removed.”

“Nothing can be done till the government is more settled,” said Shao.

Then he saw Wang Yün and asked what he thought.

“Let us talk it over,” was the reply.

Pao Hsin said no more but he left the capital and retired to Tʻaishan.

Tung Cho induced the soldiers of the two brothers Ho to join his

command and privately spoke to his adviser about deposing the Emperor

in favour of the Prince of Chʻên-liu.

“The government is really without a head; there can be no better time

than this to carry out your plan. Delay will spoil all. To-morrow

assemble the officials in the Wênming Garden and address them on the

subject. Put all opponents to death and your prestige is settled.”

So spoke his adviser and the words pleased Tung Cho mightily.

So the next day he spread a feast and invited many guests. As all the

officers went in terror of him no one dared be absent. He himself rode

up to the garden last of all and took his place with his sword girded

on. When the wine had gone round several times Tung Cho stopped the

service and the music and began to speak.

“I have something to say; listen quietly all of you.”

All turned towards him.

“The Emperor is lord of all and if he lacks dignity and behaves in an

unseemly manner he is no fitting inheritor of the ancestral

prerogatives. He who is now on the throne is a weakling, inferior to

the Prince of Chʻên-liu in intelligence and love of learning. The

Prince is in every way fitted for the throne. I desire to depose the

Emperor and set up the Prince in his place. What think you?”

The assembly listened in perfect silence, none daring at first to utter

a word of dissent. But one dared; for suddenly a guest stood up in his

place, smote the table and cried.

“No! No! who are you, that you dare utter such bold words? The Emperor

is the son of the lawful consort and has done no wrong. Why then should

he be deposed? Are you a rebel?”

The speaker was Ting Yüan, governor of Chinchow.

Cho glared at him. “There is life for those who are with me, death for

those against,” roared he.

He drew his sword and made for the objector. But the watchful Li Ju had

noticed standing behind Ting Yüan a particularly dangerous looking

henchman of his, who was now handling his spear threateningly, and

whose eyes were blazing with anger. So he hastily interposed, saying,

“But this is the banquet chamber and state affairs should be left

outside. The matters can be fully discussed to-morrow.”

His fellow guests persuaded Ting Yüan to leave, and after his departure

Tung Cho said, “Is what I said just and reasonable?”

“You are mistaken, Illustrious Sir,” said Lu Chih. “Of old [1] Tai Chia

was unenlightened. Wherefore I Yin immured him in the Tʻung Palace till

he reformed. Later [2] Prince Chʻang I ascended the throne, and in less

than a month he committed more than three thousand categorical faults.

Wherefore Ho Kuang, the regent, declared in the ancestral temple that

he was deposed. Our present Emperor is young, but he is intelligent,

benevolent and wise. He has not committed a single fault. You, Sir, are

not a metropolitan official and have had no experience in state

administration. Neither have you the pure intentions of I Yin which

qualified his actions. Without that justification such an act is

presumption.”

Tung Cho angrily drew his sword to slay the bold speaker, but another

official remonstrated.

“President Lu is the cynosure of the whole country and his violent

death would stir the hearts of all men,” said Pʻêng Po.

Then Tung Cho stayed his hand.

Then said Wang Yün, “A great question like the deposition and

substitution of Emperors is not one to be decided after a wine party.

Let it be put off till another time.”

So the guests dispersed. Cho stood at the gate with drawn sword

watching them depart.

Standing thus he noticed a spearman galloping to and fro on a fiery

steed and asked Li Ju if he knew him.

“That is Lü Pu, the adopted son of Ting Yüan. His ordinary name is

Fênhsien. You must keep out of his way, my lord.”

Tung Cho went inside the gate so that he could not be seen. But next

day a man reported to him that Ting Yüan had come out of the city with

a small army and was challenging to a battle. Tung Cho went forth to

accept the challenge. And the armies were drawn up in proper array.

Lü Pu was a conspicuous figure in the forefront. His hair was arranged

under a handsome headdress of gold and he had donned a beautiful

embroidered fighting robe, a tʻang-ni helmet and breast plate, and

round his waist was a mang belt with a lion’s head clasp. With spear

set he rode close behind his master.

Ting Yüan, pointing his finger at Tung Cho, began to revile him.

“Unhappy indeed was this State when the eunuchs became so powerful that

the people were as if trodden into the mire under their feet. Now you,

devoid of the least merit, dare to talk of deposing the rightful

Emperor and setting up another. This is to desire rebellion and no

less.”

Tung Cho could not reply for Lü Pu, eager for the fight, rode straight

at him. Tung Cho fled and Ting’s army came on. The battle went in their

favour and the beaten men retired and made another camp. Here Tung Cho

called his officers to a council.

“This Lü Pu is a marvel,” said Tung Cho. “If he was only on my side I

would defy the whole world.”

At this a man advanced saying, “Be content, O my lord! I am a fellow

villager of his and know him well, his bravery, his stupidity, his

cupidity and unscrupulousness. With this little, blarneying tongue of

mine I can persuade him to put up his hands and come over to your

side.”

Tung Cho was delighted and gazed admiringly at the speaker, on Li Su a

minor officer of his army.

“What arguments will you use with him?”

“You have a fine horse, the Hare, one of the best ever bred. I must

have this steed, and gold and pearls to win his heart. Then will I go

and persuade him. He will certainly abandon Ting Yüan’s service for

yours.”

“What think you?” said Tung Cho to his adviser Li.

“One cannot grudge a horse to win an empire,” was the reply.

So they gave the corrupter of morals what he demanded—a thousand taels

of gold, ten strings of beautiful pearls and a jewelled belt, and these

accompanied Li Su on his visit to his fellow villager. He reached the

camp and said to the guard, “Please tell General Lü that a very old

friend has come to visit him.”

He was admitted forthwith.

“Worthy brother, have you been well since we last met?”

“How long it is since we last saw each other!” replied Pu, bowing in

return. “And where are you now?”

“I am an officer in the Tiger Company. When I learned you were a strong

supporter of the throne I could not say how I rejoiced. I have come now

to present to you a really fine horse, a thousand li a day horse, one

that crosses rivers and goes up mountains as if they were the level

plain. He is called The Hare. He will be a fitting aid to your valour.”

Lü Pu bade them lead out the horse. He was of a uniform colour like

glowing charcoal; not a hair of another colour. He measured ten feet

from head to tail and from hoof to neck eight feet. When he neighed the

sound filled the empyrean and shook the ocean.

Mark ye the steed swift and tireless, see the dust, spurned by

his hoofs, rising in clouds;

Now he swims the river, anon climbs the hill, rending the purple

mist asunder;

Scornful he breaks the rein, shakes from his head the jewelled

bridle;

He is as a fiery dragon descending from the highest heaven.

Pu was delighted with the horse and said, “What return can I hope to

make for such a creature?”

“What return can I hope for? I came to you out of a sense of what is

right.”

Wine was brought in and they drank.

“We have seen very little of each other, but I am constantly meeting

your honourable father,” said Li Su.

“You are drunk,” said Pu. “My father has been dead for years.”

“Not so; I spoke of Ting Yüan, the man of the day.”

Lü Pu started. “Yes, I am with him but only because I can do no

better.”

“Sir, your talent is higher than the heavens, deeper than the seas. Who

in all the world does not bow before your name? Fame and riches and

honours are yours for the taking. And you say you can do no better than

remain a subordinate!”

“If I could only find a master to serve!” said Lü Pu.

“The clever bird chooses the branch whereon to perch; the wise servant

selects the master to serve. Seize the chance when it comes, for

repentance ever comes too late.”

“Now you are in the government. Who think you is really the bravest of

all?”, asked Lü Pu.

“I despise the whole lot except Tung Cho. He is one who respects wisdom

and reveres scholarship; he is discriminating in his rewards and

punishments. Surely he is destined to be a really great man.”

“I would that I could serve him, but there is no way, I fear.”

Then Su produced his pearls and gold and the jewelled belt and laid

them out before his host.

“What is this? What does it mean?” said Lü Pu.

“Send away the attendants,” said Li Su. And he went on, “Tung Cho has

long respected your valour and sent these by my hand. The Hare was also

from him.”

“But, if he loves me like this, what can I do in return?”

“If a stupid fellow like me can be an officer in The Tigers, it is

impossible to say what honours await you.”

“I am sorry I can offer him no service worth mentioning.”

“There is one service you can do, and an extremely easy one to perform;

but you would not render that.”

Lü Pu pondered long in silence. Then he said, “I might slay Ting Yüan

and bring over his soldiers to Tung Cho’s side; what think you of

that?”

“If you would do that, there could be no greater service. But such a

thing must be done quickly.”

And Lü Pu promised his friend that he would do the deed and come over

on the morrow.

So Li Su took his leave. That very night, at the second watch, Lü Pu

entered, sword in hand, into his master’s tent. He found Ting Yüan

reading by the light of a solitary candle. Seeing who came in he said,

“My son, what is afoot?”

“I am a bold hero,” said Pu, “do you think I am willing to be a son of

yours?”

“Why this change, Fêng-hsien?”

As a reply Lü Pu made one cut at his protector and his head fell to the

earth. Then he called the attendants and said, “He was an unjust man

and I have slain him. Let those who back me stay; the others may

depart.”

Most ran away. Next day, with the head of the murdered man as his gift,

Lü Pu betook himself to Li Su, who led him to Tung Cho. Cho received

him with a warm welcome and had wine set before him.

“Your coming is welcome as the gentle dew to the parched grass,” said

Tung Cho.

Lü Pu made Cho seat himself and then made his obeisance, saying, “Pray

let me bow to you as my adopted father.”

Tung Cho gave his newly won ally gold and armour and silken robes and

spread the feast of welcome. They then separated.

Thence Tung Cho’s power and influence increased rapidly. He gave ranks

of nobility to his brother and Lü Pu, who were leaders of the two

wings, he himself being leader of the centre. The adviser Li Ju never

ceased from urging him to carry out the design of deposing the young

Emperor.

The now all-powerful general prepared a banquet in the capital at which

all the officers of State were guests. He also bade Lü Pu post a

company of armed men right and left ready for action. The feast began

and several courses were served with nothing to distinguish that

banquet from any other. Then suddenly the host arose and drew his

sword, saying, “He who is above us being weak and irresolute is unfit

for the duties of his high place. Wherefore I, as of old did I Yin and

Ho Kuang, will set aside this Emperor giving him the title of Prince

Hung-nung and I will place on the throne the present Prince of

Chʻên-liu. And those who do not support me will suffer death.”

Fear seized them in its grip and they were silent, all but Yüan Shao

who said that the Emperor was innocent of any fault and to set him

aside in favour of a commoner was rebellion and nothing else.

“The Empire is in my hands;” cried Cho, “an I choose to do this thing

who will dare say nay? Think you my sword lacks an edge?”

“If your sword is sharp, mine is never blunt,” said Shao as his sword

flashed out of the sheath.

The two men stood face to face amid the feasters:

When Ting by treacherous murder died,

The loss was great to Yüan’s side.

The fate of Yüan Shao will be disclosed in later chapters.

San kuo; or, Romance of the three kingdoms (volume 1 of 2) · 第 3 / 60 章