A FEAT OF ARCHERY:
A BATTLE LOST AT YUSHUI RIVER.
“What is your plan of attack on Liu Pei?” said Shu.
Yang Ta-chiang replied, “Though Liu Pei, now camped at Hsiaopʻei, could
easily be taken, yet Lü Pu is strongly posted at the chief city near,
and I think he would help Pei if it was only for the grudge he bears
against you for not having given him the gold and stuffs, grain and
horses you promised. First of all you should send Lü Pu a present
whereby to engage his affections and keep him quiet while you deal with
Liu Pei. You can see to Lü Pu after this is done.”
Thereupon a large quantity of millet was sent, with letters, by the
hand of Han Yin. The gift pleased Lü Pu greatly; and he treated the
messenger with great cordiality. Feeling sure of no trouble from that
quarter Yüan Shu told off the leaders of the expedition against
Hsiaopʻei.
When Liu Pei heard these things he called his officers to take counsel.
Chang Fei was for open war forthwith. Sun Chʻien said their resources
were too small: they must lay the position before Lü Pu and ask help.
“Do you think that fellow will do anything?” said Chang Fei cynically.
Liu Pei decided in favour of Sun’s proposal and wrote as follows:—
“Humbly I venture to remind you that I am here by your orders and enjoy
repose as the result of your kindness, extensive as the heavens. Now
Yüan Shu, moved by a desire for revenge, is sending a force against
this place and its destruction is imminent unless you intervene to save
it. I trust you will send an army quickly to protect the town, and our
happiness will be inexpressible.”
Receiving this Lü Pu called in Chʻên Kung to whom he said, “I have just
received gifts from Yüan Shu and a letter, with the intent of
restraining me from helping Liu Pei. Now comes a letter from him asking
help. It seems to me that Yüan-tê where he is can do me no harm, but if
Yüan Shu overcomes Liu Pei then the power of the north is so much
nearer and I should be unable to resist the attacks of so many leaders
and should never sleep secure. I will aid Liu Pei; that is the better
course for me.”
Now the force sent against Hsiaopʻei went thither as quickly as
possible and soon the country to the southeast fluttered with pennons
by day and blazed with watch fires by night, while the rolling of the
drums reverberated from heaven to earth.
The few men at Liu Pei’s disposal were led out of the city and arranged
to make a brave show, but it was good news to him to hear that Lü Pu
had arrived and was quite near. He camped only a li away to the
south-west. When Yüan Shu’s general, Chi Ling, heard of his arrival he
wrote letters reproaching Lü Pu for his treachery. Lü Pu smiled as he
read them.
“I know how to make both of them love me,” said he. So he sent
invitations to both leaders to come to a banquet. Liu Pei was for
accepting the invitation and going, but his brothers dissuaded him
saying, “There is some treachery in his heart.”
“I have treated him too well for him to do me any harm,” said Yüan-tê.
So he mounted and rode away, the two brothers following. They came to
the camp.
The host said, “Now by a special effort I have got you out of danger; I
hope you will not forget that when you come into your own.”
Yüan-tê thanked him heartily and was invited to take a seat. The two
brothers took up their usual place as guards.
But when Chi Ling was announced Yüan-tê felt a spasm of fear and got up
to go away.
“You two are invited for the particular purpose of a discussion,” said
the host. “Do not take it amiss.”
Yüan-tê, being quite ignorant of his intentions, was very uneasy.
Presently his fellow guest entered. Seeing Yüan-tê in the tent, and in
the seat of honour, he was puzzled, hesitated and tried to withdraw.
But the attendants prevented this and Lü Pu, advancing, laid hold of
him and drew him into the tent as he had been a child.
“Do you wish to slay me?” asked he.
“Not at all,” replied Lü Pu.
“Then you are going to slay Long-ears?”
“No; not that.”
“Then what does it mean?”
“Yüan-tê and I are brothers. Now, General, you are besieging him and so
I have come to the rescue.”
“Then slay me,” said Chi Ling.
“There would be no sense in that. All my life I have disliked fighting
and quarrels, but have loved making peace. And now I want to settle the
quarrel between you two.”
“May I ask how you think of doing so?”
“I have a means and one approved of heaven itself.”
Then he drew Ling within the tent and led him up to Pei. The two men
faced each other, full of mutual suspicion, but their host placed
himself between them and they took their seats, Liu Pei on the right
hand of the host.
The banquet began. After a number of courses almost in silence, Lü Pu
spoke, saying, “I wish you two gentlemen to listen to me and put an end
to your strife.”
Liu Pei made no reply but Chi Ling said, “I have come with an army of
ten legions at the express bidding of my master to take Liu Pei. How
can I cease the strife? I must fight.”
“What!” exclaimed Chang Fei drawing his sword. “Few as we are we regard
you no more than a lot of children. What are you compared with a
million Yellow Turbans? You dare to hurt our brother!”
Kuan Yü urged him to be silent. “Let us see what General Lü has to say
first; after that there will be time to go to our tents and fight.”
“I beg you both to come to an understanding. I cannot let you fight,”
said Lü Pu.
Now on one side Chi Ling was discontented and angry; on the other Chang
Fei was dying for a fight and neither of the two chiefly concerned
would signify assent. Then suddenly the host turned to his attendants
saying, “Bring my halberd!” They did so and he sat there gripping the
graceful but effective weapon in his right hand. Both guests felt very
ill at ease and turned pale. Lü Pu went on, “I have tried to persuade
you to make peace for that is the command of the Most High. It shall be
put to the test.”
He then bade his servants take the halberd outside beyond the gate and
set it up. Then speaking to his two guests he said, “That gate is one
hundred and fifty paces distant. If I can hit that centre branch of the
halberd-head with an arrow, you will both withdraw your armies. If I
miss, you can go away and prepare for immediate battle. I shall compel
you to abide by what I say.”
Chi Ling thought to himself, “That small mark at that distance! How
could any one hit it?” So he assented, thinking he would have plenty of
fighting after his host had missed the mark. Of course Liu Pei was
willing.
They all sat down again and wine was served. When this had been drunk
the host called for his bow and arrows. Yüan-tê silently prayed that he
would hit the mark.
Lü Pu turned back his sleeves, carefully fitted an arrow to the string
and pulled the bow to its utmost stretch. A slight exclamation escaped
him as the bow curved like the harvest moon sailing through the sky.
“Twang!” went the bowstring and the arrow sped like a falling star. And
it struck the slender tongue of the halberd head full and square. A
roar of acclamation from all sides greeted the exploit.
O Lü was a wonderful archer,
And the arrow he shot sped straight;
By hitting the mark he saved his friend
That day at his yamên gate.
Hou I, the archer of ancient days,
Brought down each mocking sun,
And the apes that gibbered to fright Yuchi
Were slain by him, one by one.
But we sing of Lü Pu that drew the bow,
And his feathered shaft that flew;
For a myriad men could doff their mail
When he hit the mark so true.
Lü Pu laughed loud at the success of his shot. Dropping his bow he
seized his guests by the hands saying, “The command of Heaven indeed!
And now you cease from fighting!”
He ordered the soldier attendants to pour out great goblets of wine and
each drank. Liu Pei in his inmost heart felt rather ashamed; his fellow
guest sat silent, nodding his head. Presently he said, “I cannot
disobey your command, General, but let me depart. What will my master
say and will he believe me?”
“I will write a letter and confirm it,” said Lü Pu.
After a few more rounds of the wine Chi Ling asked that he might have
the letter and after that departed. When the brothers took their leave
Lü Pu again reminded Liu Pei that he owed him his deliverance.
In a short time the soldiers had gone. Here nothing will be said of the
entry of two of the actors in the drama into their own towns. When Chi
Ling had got back to Huainan and told the story of the feat of archery
and the peace-making that followed, and had presented the letter, his
lord was very wroth.
“He repays me for all my grain with this bit of play-acting!” cried he.
“He has saved Liu Pei, but I will lead a large army myself and settle
him, and take Lü Pu too.”
“Be careful, my lord,” said Chi Ling. “He is braver and stronger than
most men and has wide territory. He and Liu Pei together make a
powerful combination, not easy to break. But there is another course. I
have found out that his wife, the lady Yen, has a daughter just of
marriageable age and as you have a son, you could arrange a marriage
alliance with Lü Pu. If his daughter wedded your son he would certainly
slay your enemy for you. This is the nothing-can-separate-relations
plan.”
This scheme appealed to Yüan Shu, who soon set about its
accomplishment. He sent presents by the hand of Han Yin, who was to
discuss the question. When Han saw Lü he spoke of the immense respect
his master had for him and his desire to ensure perpetual alliance
between the two families by a marriage, an alliance such as existed
between the states Tsʻin and Chin.
Lü Pu was well disposed toward the scheme, but went in to consult his
wife. Now Lü Pu had two wives and one concubine. He first married a
lady of the Yen family and she was the legal wife. Then he took Little
Cicada as a concubine, and while he was living at Hsiaopʻei he had
married a secondary wife, a daughter of Tsʻao Pao. She had died quite
young leaving no issue. Neither had his concubine borne any children.
So that he had but one child, this daughter, of whom he was dotingly
fond.
When he broached the subject his wife said, “The Yüan’s have dominated
their part of the country these many years. They have a large army and
are very prosperous. One day a Yüan will become Emperor and our
daughter may hope to be an Empress. But how many sons has he?”
“Only this one.”
“Then we should accept the offer. Even if our daughter does not become
an Empress, Hsüchou is nothing to be sad about.”
Lü Pu decided to accept and so treated the messenger with extreme
generosity. Han Yin went back with a favourable answer. The wedding
gifts were then prepared ready for Han Yin to take to the bride’s
family. They were received and banquets and merry-making filled all the
time.
One day Chʻên Kung went to see the messenger in his lodging, and when
the usual ceremonies and greetings had been exchanged, the two men sat
down to talk. When the servants had been sent out of earshot Chʻên Kung
said, “Who originated this scheme by which Yüan Shu and Lü Pu are to
become connections by this marriage so that Liu Pei’s head may fall?”
Han Yin was terrified. “I pray you not to let it get abroad,” said he.
“I certainly shall keep it secret. But if there be any delay some other
person will find it out and that spells failure.”
“What had best be done?”
“I will see Lü Pu and get him to send the girl immediately so that the
marriage may be concluded quickly.”
“If it happened thus my master would indeed hold you in high respect.”
With this Chʻên Kung took his leave and sought an interview with Lü Pu.
“I hear your daughter is to be married to Yüan Shu’s son. That is
capital, but no one knows when.”
“That has yet to be considered.”
“There were certain fixed rules as to the period between sending
presents and consummation of the marriage; Emperors, a year; nobles,
half a year; high officers, three months; and common people, one
month.”
Lü Pu replied, “As to Yüan Kung-lu, Heaven has already put into his
hands one Imperial jewel and he will surely arrive at the dignity one
day. So, I should think the Imperial rule would apply.”
“No; it will not.”
“The nobles’ rule, then?”
“No; nor that.”
“The high officers’?”
“Not even that.”
Lü Pu laughed. “Then you mean me to go by the rule for common people.”
“Nor that either.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“In the midst of the present troubles, when there is great rivalry
between the nobles, do you not see that the others will be exceedingly
jealous of your marriage alliance with such a family as the Yüans?
Suppose you postpone the choice of the day, most likely when your fine
morning arrives the wedding party will fall into an ambush on the road
and the bride be carried off. Then what could be done? My opinion is
that you would have done better to refuse. But since you have
consented, then carry out the plan at once before the lords hear of it
and so send the girl over without delay to Shouchʻun. You can hire a
lodging there till you have selected the wedding day and the odds are
greatly against any failure.”
“What you say is quite to the point,” replied Lü.
He went into the private apartments to see his wife and told her the
bride elect would set out immediately and the trousseau was to be
prepared as far as it could be. On his side he chose some good horses
and had a wedding carriage got ready. The escort consisted of Han Yin
and two military officers. The procession went out of the city to the
sound of music.
Now at this time Chʻên Kuei, father of Chʻên Têng (Yüan-lung) was
placidly waiting till the evening of his life passed into night.
Hearing this burst of music he enquired the occasion and the servants
told him.
“They are working on the ‘Relatives-are-inseparable’ device, then,”
said he. “Yüan-tê is in danger.”
Thereupon in spite of his many infirmities he went to see Lü Pu.
“Noble Sir, what brings you here?” asked Lü.
“I heard you were dead and I came to mourn,” quavered the old man.
“Who said that?” exclaimed his host.
“Once upon a time you received grand presents from the Yüan’s that you
might slay Liu Pei, but you got out by that clever shot at your
halberd. Now they suddenly seek a marriage alliance thinking to get
hold of your daughter as a pledge. The next move will be an attack on
Hsiaopʻei and, that gone, where are you? Whatever they ask in future,
grain or men or anything else, and you yield, will bring your own end
nearer, and make you hated all round. If you refuse, then you are false
to the duties of a relative and that will be an excuse to attack you
openly. Beside this Yüan Shu intends to call himself Emperor, which
would be rebellion, and you would be of the rebel’s family; something
abominable, which the Empire would not suffer.”
Lü Pu was much disturbed to hear this. “I have been misled!” cried he.
So he hurriedly sent Chang Liao to bring the wedding party back to the
city. When they had come he threw Han Yin into prison and sent a reply
to Yüan Shu saying curtly that the girl’s trousseau was not ready and
she could not be married till it was.
Han Yin was sent back to the capital. Lü Pu was hesitating what course
to adopt, when he heard that Liu Pei was enlisting soldiers and buying
horses for no apparent reason.
“He is simply doing his duty; there is nothing to be surprised at,”
said Lü Pu.
Then came two officers saying, “As you ordered us we went into Shantung
to purchase horses. We had got three hundred when, on our way back, on
the borders of Peihsien some robbers stole half of them. We hear that
the real robbers were Chang Fei and his men, who took on the guise of
brigands.”
Lü Pu was very angry at this and began to prepare an expedition against
Hsiaopʻei. When Liu Pei heard that an attack threatened he led out his
army to oppose it and the two armies were arrayed. Liu Pei rode to the
front and said, “Elder brother, why have you brought an army against
me?”
Lü Pu began abusing him saying, “That shot of mine at the yamên gate
saved you from grave danger; why then did you steal my horses?”
“I wanted horses and I sent out to buy them. Should I dare to take
yours?” said Liu.
“You stole a hundred and fifty in the person of your brother Chang Fei.
You only used another man’s hand.”
Thereupon Chang Fei, with his spear in rest, rode out saying, “Yes; I
stole your good horses, and what more do you expect?”
Lü Pu replied, “You goggled-eyed thief! You are always treating me with
contempt.”
“Yes; I took your horses and you get angry. You did not say any thing
when you stole my brother’s city.”
Lü Pu rode forward to give battle and Chang Fei advanced. A reckless
fight began and the two warriors kept it up for a hundred bouts without
a decisive stroke. Then Liu Pei, fearing some accident to his brother,
hastily beat the gongs as a signal to retire and led his army into the
city. Lü Pu then invested it.
Liu Pei called his brother and chid him as the cause of all this
misfortune.
“Where are the horses?” said he.
“In some of the temples and courts,” replied Fei.
A messenger was sent out to speak softly and offer to restore the
stolen horses if hostilities were to cease. Lü Pu was disposed to agree
but Chʻên Kung opposed. “You will suffer by and by if you do not remove
this Liu Pei.”
Under his influence the request for peace was rejected and the attack
on the city pressed harder.
Liu Pei called Mi Chu and Sun Chʻien to him to ask advice.
Said the latter, “The one person that Tsʻao Tsʻao detests is Lü Pu. Let
us then abandon the city and take refuge with Tsʻao Tsʻao, from whom we
may borrow men to destroy him.”
“If we try to get away, who will lead the van?”
“I will do my best,” said Chang Fei.
So he led the way. Kuan Yü was rearguard and in the centre was Liu Pei
with the non-fighting portion. The cavalcade started and went out at
the north gate. They met some opposition but the soldiers were driven
off and the besieging force was passed without difficulty. Chang Liao
pursued, but was held off by the rearguard. It seemed Lü Pu was not
dissatisfied at the flight for he took no personal trouble to prevent
it. He made formal entry into the city, settled local affairs and
appointed a governor.
Liu Pei approached Hsütu and encamped outside the city, whence he sent
Sun Chʻien to see Tsʻao Tsʻao and relate the events that brought him
there. Tsʻao was very friendly and said, “Liu Pei is as my brother.” He
invited him to enter the city.
Leaving his brothers at the camp Liu Pei, with Sun Chʻien and Mi Chu,
went to Tsʻao Tsʻao, who received him with the greatest respect. The
story of Lü Pu’s perfidy was again related.
“He has no sense of right,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao. “You and I, my brother,
will attack him together.”
Yüan-tê was very grateful. A banquet was then prepared and it was late
evening before the visitor left for his own camp.
Hsün Yü then had an interview with his master and said, “If you are not
on your guard Liu Pei will be your undoing. You ought to destroy him.
He is too much of the hero.”
Tsʻao made no reply and his adviser retired. Presently Kuo Chia came
and Tsʻao Tsʻao said, “I have been advised to kill Liu Pei; what of
such a scheme?”
“A bad scheme,” said Kuo. “You are the popular champion, pledged to
relieve the people from oppression and only by truth and rectitude can
you secure the support of the noble-minded. Your only fear is lest they
stay away. Now Liu Pei is famous. He has come to you for help and
protection and to put him to death would be to alienate all good men
and put fear into the hearts of all the able advisers. Hampered by
these difficulties where will you find those whose help you need? To
remove the dangers represented by one man and thereby injure yourself
in the eyes of all mankind is a sure means of destruction. These
conditions need careful consideration.”
“What you say exactly fits in with what I think,” said Tsʻao, greatly
pleased with these remarks.
His next step was to memorialise the Emperor to give Liu Pei the
governorship of Yüchou.
Again Chʻêng Yü said, “Liu Pei is certain to rise to the top; he will
never remain in a subordinate position. You had better remove him.”
“Now is just the time to make use of good men. I will not forfeit the
regard of the world for the sake of removing one individual. Kuo
Fêng-hsiao and I both see this in the same light.”
Wherefore he rejected all persuasion to work against Liu Pei but sent
him soldiers and a large supply of grain, and set him on his way to Yü
(Honan). He was to march to Hsiaopʻei, occupy it, call together his
former soldiers and attack Lü Pu.
When Liu Pei reached Yüchou he sent to inform Tsʻao Tsʻao, who prepared
to march an army to subjugate Lü Pu. But just then hasty news came that
Chang Chi, who had gone to the attack of Nanyang, had been wounded by a
stray arrow and had died. His nephew Hsiu had succeeded to the command
of his army and with Chia Hsü as strategist, had joined Liu Piao and
camped at Wanchʻêng. They intended to attack the capital and get
possession of the Emperor’s person.
Tsʻao Tsʻao was placed in a quandary. He would go to attack this
combination but he feared lest Lü Pu would attack the capital if he
left it. So he sought the advice of Hsün Yü.
“Lü Pu has no notion of a policy. He is led astray by any little
advantage that presents itself to his eyes. All you need do is to
obtain promotion for him, giving him some additional title, and tell
him to make peace with Yüan-tê and he will do it.”
“Good,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao and he acted upon the hint and sent an officer
with the official announcement and a letter urging peace, while he went
on with preparations to meet the other danger. When ready he marched
out in three divisions. Hsiahou Tun was the van-leader and they went to
Yüshui River and camped there.
Chia Hsü succeeded in persuading Chang Hsiu of the hopelessness of
resistance.
“You would do well to surrender since his army is too large for you to
oppose,” said he.
Seeing the truth of this Hsiu sent his adviser to propose submission.
Tsʻao Tsʻao was greatly pleased with the messenger, admiring his ready
and fluent repartee, and tried to win him to his service.
“I was formerly with Li Tsʻui and was held guilty with him. Now I am
with Chang who accepts my advice and I should not like to abandon him,”
said Chia Hsü.
He left and next day conducted his master into Tsʻao Tsʻao’s presence.
Tsʻao was generous. Then he entered Wanchʻêng, the greater part of the
army being put in camp outside where the lines extended some ten li.
Great banquets were given every day and Tsʻao Tsʻao was always being
entertained.
One day, when Tsʻao Tsʻao returned to his quarters in a more than usual
merry mood, he asked the attendants if there were any singing girls in
the city. The son of his elder brother heard the question and said,
“Peeping through one of the partitions last evening I saw a perfectly
beautiful woman in one of the courts. They told me she was the wife of
Chang Hsiu’s uncle. She is very lovely.”
Tsʻao Tsʻao, inflamed by the description given him of the beauty, told
his nephew to go and bring her to visit him. He did so supported by an
armed escort and very soon the woman stood before him.
She was a beauty indeed and Tsʻao Tsʻao asked her name. She replied,
“Thy handmaid was wife to Chang Chi; I was born of the Tsou family.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“I have known the Minister by reputation a long time. I am happy to see
him and be permitted to bow before him,” said she.
“It was for your sake that I allowed Chang Hsiu to submit; otherwise I
would have slain him and cut him off root and branch,” said Tsʻao.
“Indeed, then, I owe my very life to you; I am very grateful,” said
she.
“To see you is a glimpse of paradise, but there is one thing I should
like better. Stay here and go with me to the capital where I will see
that you are properly cared for. What do you say to that?”
She could but thank him.
“But Chang Hsiu will greatly wonder at my prolonged absence and gossips
will begin to talk,” said she.
“If you like you can leave the city to-morrow.”
She did so, but instead of going at once to the capital she stayed with
him among the tents, where Tien Wei was appointed as a special guard
over her apartments. Tsʻao was the only person whom she saw and he
passed the days in idle dalliance with the lady, quite content to let
time flow by.
But Chang’s people told him what had gone amiss and he was angry at the
shame brought upon the family. He confided his trouble to Chia Hsü who
said, “Keep this secret, wait till he appears again to carry on
business and then....”
A plan was arranged quite secretly.
Not long after this Chang Hsiu went into Tsʻao Tsʻao’s tent to say
that, as many of his men were deserting, it would be well to camp them
in the centre and when permission was given the men of his old command
were moved in and placed in four camps.
But Tien Wei, the especial guard of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s tent, was a man to be
feared, being both brave and powerful. It was hard to know how to
attack him. So counsel was taken with an officer, Hu Chʻêrh, a man of
enormous strength and activity. He could carry a burden of six hundred
pounds and travel seven hundred li in a day. He proposed a plan. He
said, “The fearsome thing about Tien Wei is his double halberd. But get
him to come to a party and make him quite drunk before you send him
back. I will mingle among his escort and so get into his tent and steal
away his weapon. One need not fear him then.”
So the necessary arms were prepared and orders given in the various
camps. This done the intended victim was invited and plied vigorously
with wine so that he was quite intoxicated when he left. And, as
arranged, the officer mingled with his escort and made away with his
weapons.
That night, when Tsʻao Tsʻao was at supper with the lady, he heard the
voices of men and neighing of horses and sent out to ask what it meant.
They told him it was the night patrol going the rounds and he was
satisfied.
Near the second watch of the night again was heard some noise in the
rear of his tent and one of the fodder carts was reported to be
burning.
“One of the men has dropped a spark; there is nothing to be alarmed
at,” said he.
But very soon the fire spread on all sides and became alarming. He
called Tien Wei. But he, usually so alert, was lying down quite
intoxicated.
However, the beating of gongs and rolling of drums mingling with his
dreams awoke him and he jumped up. His trusty halberd had disappeared.
The enemy was near. He hastily snatched up an infantryman’s sword and
rushed out. At the gate he saw a crowd of spearmen just bursting in.
Tien Wei rushed at them slashing all around him and a score or more
fell beneath his blows. The others drew back. But the spears stood
around him like reeds on the river bank. Being totally without mail he
was soon wounded in several places. He fought desperately till his
sword snapped and was no longer of any use. Throwing it aside he seized
a couple of soldiers and with their bodies as weapons felled half a
score of his opponents. The others dared not approach, but they shot
arrows at him. These fell thick as rain but he still maintained the
gate against the assailants.
However, the mutineers got in by the rear of the camp and one of them
wounded him in the back with a spear thrust. Uttering a loud cry he
fell. The blood gushed from the wound in torrents and he died. Even
after he was dead not a man dared to come in by the main gate.
Tsʻao Tsʻao, relying on Tien Wei to hold the main gate, had fled in
haste by the rear gate. His nephew accompanied him on foot. Then Tsʻao
was wounded by an arrow in the arm and three arrows struck his horse.
However, fortunately, the horse was a fine beast from Tawan full of
spirit and, in spite of his wounds, he bore his master swiftly and well
as far as the Yüshui River.
Here some of the pursuers came up and his nephew was hacked to pieces.
Tsʻao Tsʻao dashed into the river and reached the further side, but
there an arrow struck his steed in the eye and he fell. Tsʻao Tsʻao’s
eldest son dismounted and yielded his horse to his father, who galloped
on. His son was killed but he himself got away. Soon after he met
several of his officers who had rallied a few soldiers.
The soldiers under Hsiahou Tun seized the occasion to plunder the
people. Yü Chin took his men fell upon them and slew many. Thus he
protected and appeased the people. The plunderers, meeting Tsʻao Tsʻao
on the road, knelt down howling and said Yü Chin had mutinied and
attacked them. Tsʻao Tsʻao was surprised and when he met Hsiahou Tun,
gave orders to attack Yü Chin.
Now when Yü Chin saw his master and a great company approaching he at
once stopped the attack and set his men to make a camp. Hsün Yü asked
him why.
“The Chingchou soldiers say you have turned traitor; why do you not
explain now that the Minister has arrived? Why first make a camp?” said
he.
He replied, “Our enemies are coming up in our rear and are very close.
It is necessary to prepare for defence or we shall not withstand them.
Explanation is a small matter, but defence is very important.”
Soon after the camp was finished Chang Hsiu fell upon them in two
divisions. Yü Chin himself rode out to face them. Chang drew back. The
other leader, seeing Yü Chin advance thus boldly, also attacked and
Chang Hsiu was overcome. They pursued him a great distance until his
force was almost annihilated. With the miserable remnant he finally
fled to Liu Piao.
Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army reformed and the captains mustered. Then Yü Chin
went to see his master and told him of the conduct of the Chingchou
soldiers and their looting and why he had attacked them.
“Why did you not tell me before you made the camp?”
Yü Chin related what had occurred.
Said Tsʻao, “When the first thought of a leader in the time of greatest
stress is to maintain order and strengthen his defences, giving no
thought to slander but shouldering his burdens manfully, and when he
thereby turns a defeat into a victory, who, even of the ancient
leaders, can excel him?”
He rewarded Yü Chin with a service of plate and a marquisate. But he
reprimanded Hsiahou Tun for his lack of discipline.
Sacrifices in honour of the dead warrior Tien Wei were instituted.
Tsʻao himself led the wailing and paid due honours. Turning to his
officers he said, “I have lost my first born son, but I grieve not so
heavily for him as for Tien Wei. I weep for him.”
All were sad at the loss of this captain. Then orders were issued to
return but nothing will be said here of the march to the capital.
When Wang Tsê, bearing the imperial decree, reached Hsüchou, he was met
by Lü Pu, who conducted him into the residence where the decree was
read. It conferred the title General, “Pacificator of the East,” and a
special seal accompanied the mandate. The private letter was also
handed over and the messenger detailed the high appreciation in which
Lü was held by the chief Minister of State.
Next came news that a messenger from Yüan Shu had arrived. When he had
been introduced he said that Shu’s project of declaring himself Emperor
was advancing. He had already built a palace and would speedily choose
an Empress and concubines and would come to Huainan.
“Has the rebel gone so far?” cried Lü Pu in a rage.
He put the messenger to death and Han Yin into the cangue. He drafted a
memorial of thanks and sent it to the capital, at the same time
sending, too, Han Yin, the unfortunate agent who had arranged the
marriage alliance. He also replied to Tsʻao Tsʻao’s private letter
asking to be confirmed in his governorship.
Tsʻao was pleased to hear of the rupture of the marriage arrangement,
and forthwith put Han Yin to death in the market place.
However, Chʻên Têng sent a secret remonstrance to Tsʻao Tsʻao,
vilifying Lü Pu as cruel, stupid and facile and advising his
destruction.
“I know Lü Pu quite well,” said Tsʻao. “He is a wolf with a savage
heart, and it will be hard to feed him for long. If it had not been for
you and your father I should not have known all the circumstances and
you must help me to get rid of him.”
“Anything the Minister wishes to do shall have my assistance,” was the
reply.
As a reward Tsʻao Tsʻao obtained a grant of grain for the father and a
prefecture for the son, who then took his leave. As he was saying
farewell Tsʻao took him by the hand saying, “I shall depend upon you in
the eastern affair.”
Chʻên Têng nodded acquiescence. Then he returned to Lü Pu, who asked
him how he had fared. Chʻên told him of the gifts to his father, which
annoyed Pu.
“You did not ask Hsüchou for me, but you got something for yourself.
Your father advised me to help Tsʻao Tsʻao by breaking off the
marriage, and now I get nothing at all of what I asked while you and
your father get everything. I have been victimised by your father.”
He threatened Chʻên with his sword.
Chʻên Têng only laughed saying, “O how stupid you are, General!”
“I! How stupid?”
“When I saw Tsʻao, I said that to keep you going was like feeding a
tiger. The tiger must be kept fully fed or he would eat men. But Tsʻao
laughed and replied, ‘No; not that. One must treat the marquis like a
falcon. Not feed it till the foxes and hares are done. Hungry, the bird
is of use; full fed it flies away.’ I asked who were the quarry. He
replied ‘Yüan Shu, Sun Tsʻê, Yüan Shao, Liu Piao, Liu Chang and Chang
Lu; these are the foxes and hares.’”
Lü Pu threw aside his sword and laughed, saying, “Yes; he understands
me.”
But just about that time came news of the advance of Yüan Shu on
Hsüchou and that frightened Lü Pu.
When discord rose ’twixt Tsʻin and Chin,
They were attacked by Yüeh and Wu,
And when a promised bride ne’er came,
An army marched to enforce the claim.
How all this fell out will be shown in the next chapter.