TSʻAO TSʻAO FIGHTS AT HSIAPʻEI:
LÜ PU PERISHES AT THE WHITE GATE TOWER.
As was stated before, Kao Shun and Chang Liao together went to smite
Kuan Yü, while Lü Pu attacked the younger brother’s camp. Both brothers
went out to give battle, while Liu Pei’s force was held in reserve. Lü
Pu attacked from the rear and the brothers were forced to flee. Liu Pei
with a few score horsemen rushed back to Pʻeichʻêng. As he approached
the gate with Lü Pu pressing him close, he shouted to the soldiers on
the wall to lower the drawbridge. Lü Pu was so close behind that the
archers on the wall feared to shoot lest they should wound their lord
and so Lü Pu got into the gate. The gate guards could not force him
back so they scattered in all directions. Lü Pu led his force into the
city.
Liu Yüan-tê saw the position was too desperate for him to reach his
residence and he must abandon all his family. So he hastened through
the city and left by the west gate out at which he and his scanty
following fled for very life.
When Lü Pu reached the residence he was met by Mi Chu who said, “The
hero does not destroy a man’s wife. Your rival for the Empire is Tsʻao
Tsʻao, and my master, always mindful of the good turn you did him at
your gate, would not be ungrateful. But he could not help going to
Tsʻao Tsʻao and I think you will pity him.”
Lü Pu replied, “We two are old friends; how could I bear to harm his
wife and children?”
Whereupon he sent the family to Hsüchou with Mi Chu to take care of
them. Next Lü led his army into Shantung to Yenchou, leaving Kao Shun
and Chang Liao to guard Hsiaopʻei.
During these troubles Sun Chʻien had also fled out of the city and the
two brothers, each with a handful of men, had got away to the hills. As
Liu Pei with his few horsemen was making the best of their way from the
scene of his defeat he heard some one coming up behind him. When he got
closer the person proved to be Sun Chʻien.
“Alas! I know not the fate of my brothers, whether they be alive or
dead, and my wife and children are lost to me! What can I do?” said Liu
Pei.
Sun replied, “I see nothing better than getting away to Tsʻao Tsʻao,
whence we may be able to plan our future moves.”
Liu Pei had no better plan to propose and the two men directed their
way to Hsütu, choosing bye-roads rather than highways. When their small
supplies ran out they entered a village to beg. But when the people of
any place heard that Liu of Yüchou was the man who needed help they
vied with each other in offering all that was required.
One day they sought shelter at a house whence a youth came out and made
a low obeisance. They asked his name and he gave it as Liu An, of a
well known family of hunters. Hearing who the visitor was the hunter
wished to lay before him a dish of game, but though he sought for a
long time nothing could be found for the table. So he came home, killed
his wife and prepared a portion for his guest. While eating Liu Pei
asked what flesh it was and the hunter told him “wolf.” Yüan-tê knew no
better and ate his fill. Next day at daylight, just as he was leaving,
he went to the stables in the rear to get his horse and passing through
the kitchen he saw the dead body of a woman lying on the table. The
flesh of one arm had been cut away. Quite startled he asked what this
meant, and then he knew what he had eaten the night before. He was
deeply affected at this proof of his host’s regard and the tears rained
down as he mounted his steed at the gate.
“I wish I could go with you,” said Liu An, “but as my mother still
lives I cannot go so far from home.”
Liu Pei thanked him and went his way. The party took the road by
Liangchʻêng and as they were going out they saw not far off a thick
cloud of dust. When the troop came nearer they found they were men of
Tsʻao Tsʻao’s army, and with them they travelled to the main camp where
they found Tsʻao Tsʻao himself. He wept at the sad story of Liu’s
distress, the loss of the city, his brothers and wife and children.
When he told him of the hunter who had sacrificed his wife to feed them
Tsʻao sent the hunter a present of a hundred ounces of silver as a
reward. [11]
The march then was continued to Chipei, where Hsiahou Yüan welcomed
them. They heard that his brother was still ill from the wound he had
received in the eye. Tsʻao Tsʻao went to the sick man’s bedside to see
him and had him removed to Hsütu for skilled treatment.
Presently scouts, sent out particularly for tidings of Lü Pu, returned
saying that he had allied himself with the bandits in the east and they
were attacking Yenchou. At this Tsʻao Tsʻao despatched Tsʻao Jên with
three companies to take Pʻeichʻêng, while he, in conjunction with Liu
Pei, moved against Lü Pu.
They went east. As they neared Artemisia Pass (Hsiao Kuan) they met the
Tʻaishan brigands with three legions barring their road. However, they
were easily beaten back and were chased right up to the pass.
The scouts told Lü Pu, who was then in Hsüchou, whither he had gone to
start an expedition to save Hsiaopʻei. He left the protection of his
city to Chʻên Kuei and set out with Chʻên Têng.
As this latter was starting Chʻên Kuei said to him, “Remember the words
of Tsʻao Tsʻao, that the business of the east is in our hands. Now is
our moment for Lü Pu is about to suffer defeat.”
“Father, your son can look after the outside. But when he returns
beaten you must arrange with Mi Chu to keep him out of the city. I
shall find a means of escape,” said Têng.
“His family is here and he has many friends. How about them?”
“I also have a scheme to settle them.”
Then he went to see Lü Pu, to whom he said, “Hsüchou is surrounded and
this city will be fiercely attacked. We ought to provide for possible
retreat and I advise storing grain and money in Hsiaopʻei. We could
retreat there if the day went adversely. Why not see about this in good
time?”
“Your words are indeed wise. I will also send my wife and little ones
thither,” said Lü.
The family left under escort and with them was sent much grain and
silver. And then the soldiers marched to the relief of the pass. About
half way there Chʻên Têng said, “Let me go first to reconnoitre so that
you, my lord, may advance with confidence.”
Thus Chʻên Têng parted company with his chief and preceded him to the
pass where he was received by Chʻên Kung. He said, “The Marquis greatly
wonders why you do not advance. He is going to enquire into it.”
“The enemy is in great force and we cannot be too careful,” said Kung.
“We are holding the pass and you should persuade our master to take
steps to guard Pʻeichʻêng.”
Chʻên Têng muttered to himself and said no more. That evening he went
up to the heights from which he could see Tsʻao’s army, which was quite
close to the pass. Then he wrote three notes, tied them to arrows and
shot them into Tsʻao’s camp.
Next day he left and hastened back to Lü Pu. “Those bandits are about
to give up the pass to the enemy, but I have left Chʻên Kung to hold
it. You had better make an attack to-night and hold him.”
“Had it not been for you the pass would have been lost,” said Lü.
Then he sent Chʻên Têng back to arrange a signal with Chʻên Kung for
simultaneous action. So Têng returned to Kung to whom he said, “Tsʻao’s
men have found a secret way through the pass and I fear Hsüchou is
already lost. You ought to go back at once.”
At this the pass was abandoned and Kung began to retreat. Then the
prearranged signal was given.
Lü Pu advanced in the darkness to the relief of the pass. Presently he
met Chʻên Kun’s men, and as neither recognised the other in the
darkness a fierce battle ensued. Nor was the trick discovered till
daylight came.
While these things were going on Tsʻao Tsʻao had noted the signal and
advanced as fast as possible. The bandits, who alone remained to hold
the pass, were easily driven out and scattered in all directions.
When daylight came and the trick was discovered Lü Pu and Chʻên Kung
set off together for Hsüchou. But when they arrived and summoned the
gate, instead of opening the doors the men on the wall saluted them
with a thick flight of arrows. At the same time Mi Chu appeared on the
defence tower and shouted, “You stole our master’s city and now we are
going to give it back to him. You will not enter here again.”
“Where is Chʻên Kuei?” cried Lü Pu, angrily.
“We have slain him,” was the reply.
“Where is that son of his?” said Pu turning to Chʻên Kung.
“Do you still hold to your delusion, General, that you ask where this
specious rogue is?”
Lü Pu bade them search through all the ranks, but he was not to be
found. Then they decided to go to Hsiaopʻei. But ere they had got half
way there suddenly appeared the troops under the command of Kao Shun
and Chang Liao. They said Chʻên Têng had come to them saying their lord
was surrounded and wanted help so they had come at once.
“Another trick of that false rogue!” said Lü Pu. “Surely he shall die
for this.”
They went with all speed to the city, only to see as they drew near the
ensigns of the enemy displayed all along the walls, for the city had
been taken by Tsʻao Jên.
While Lü Pu stood at the foot of the rampart reviling the traitor Chʻên
Têng, Têng himself appeared on the wall and pointing to Lü Pu cried,
“Did you think that I, a Minister of the Dynasty, would serve a rebel
like you?”
Lü Pu in his wrath was about to make a desperate attack but suddenly a
great noise was heard and an army came up behind him. It was led by no
other than Chang Fei.
Kao Shun went to engage him, but he had no chance of success. Lü Pu
then joined in the fray. Then another army appeared, and the leader
this time was Tsʻao Tsʻao himself, and his army rushed to the attack.
Seeing that he had no hope of victory Lü Pu went away toward the east,
with Tsʻao Tsʻao in pursuit. His army marched till they were worn out.
Then appeared a new force under Kuan Yü. Holding his sword ready to
strike he called out, “Do not flee, O Lü Pu, Kuan Yü is waiting for
you.”
Lü Pu joined battle; he was flurried and scarce knew what was
happening. And soon Chang Fei came up once more. By desperate efforts
Lü Pu and his men cut their way through the press and got free. After
this they started for Hsiaopʻei as fast as they could travel and Hou
Chʻêng helped to keep the pursuers at bay.
So the two brothers Kuan Yü and Chang Fei were together again after
their separation. Both shed tears of joy as they told each other what
they had seen and suffered.
“I was on the Haichow road when I heard of you,” said Yün-chʻang. “I
lost no time in starting.”
“And I had been camped in the Mangtang Hills for a long time. It is
happiness to be together again.”
So they talked. Then they marched off together to find their elder
brother, and made their salutations with tears. In Yüan-tê’s heart
sadness and joy intermingled. Next they were presented to Tsʻao Tsʻao
and with him they went into the captured city.
Mi Chu soon came with the welcome news of the safety of the family. And
the two Chʻên’s, betrayers of Lü Pu, came to present their salutations.
A grand banquet was prepared for the officers at which Tsʻao Tsʻao
presided as host and Chʻên Kuei and Yüan-tê occupied the seats of
honour. At the close of the banquet Tsʻao Tsʻao paid the two Chʻêns the
highest compliments on their success and rewarded them with the
revenues of ten departments beside giving the son the title of Fu-po
Chang-chün or General, “Queller of Waves.”
Tsʻao Tsʻao was very pleased with his success and at once began to
scheme for the taking of Hsiaopʻei, the sole place now left to Lü Pu,
where he had taken refuge. Chʻêng Yü said the course was inadvisable.
“If Lü Pu be pressed too hard he may get clear by a desperate effort
and throw himself into the arms of our especial enemy Yüan Shu. These
two as allies would be difficult to overcome. Rather send a capable man
to guard Huainan, one able to secure you against Lü Pu on one hand and
to hold Yüan Shu on the other. Moreover the bandits are in Shantung and
still our enemies. They must be watched.”
Tsʻao replied, “I can keep the whole of Shantung and I will request
Yüan-tê to take the south.”
“Could I dare withstand your command?” said Yüan-tê.
So forthwith Liu Pei, leaving Mi Chu and Chien Yung at Hsüchou, went
south, taking in his train his brothers and Sun Chʻien. And Tsʻao led
his army to Hsiaopʻei.
Lü Pu felt very secure in his refuge. He had good store of grain and he
had the protection of the river, so he sat quiet, satisfied that he
could maintain his defence. So he allowed Tsʻao’s army to approach
without molestation.
“You ought to attack Tsʻao’s army as they come up before they have time
to make camps and defences. They will only have fatigued men to oppose
to your fresh troops and you will certainly defeat them.”
So said Chʻên Kung but Lü Pu replied, “I have suffered too many defeats
lately to take any risk. Wait till they actually attack and you will
see them floating away on the waters.”
So he neglected the confidant’s advice and waited till the enemy had
settled into their camp. This done, the attackers advanced against the
city. From the foot of the wall Tsʻao Tsʻao called to Lü Pu to listen
while he spoke. Lü Pu ascended to the wall where he stood.
Tsʻao addressed him, saying, “When I heard that your family and that of
Yüan Shu were likely to be united by marriage I sent an army against
you, for Yüan was guilty of treason while you had to your credit the
destruction of Tung Cho. For what reason have you sacrificed all your
merits to throw in your lot with a rebel? It will be over late to
regret when this city shall have fallen. But if you surrender and help
me to support the ruling house you shall not lose your rank of
Marquis.”
Lü Pu replied, “If the Minister will retire we may be able to discuss
the matter.”
But Chʻên Kung, standing near his master, began to rail at Tsʻao Tsʻao
for a rebel and shot an arrow that struck his plumed helmet.
“My oath, but I will slay you at least!” cried Tsʻao, pointing his
finger at Chʻên Kung.
Then the attack on the walls began.
“They have come from far and cannot maintain this for long,” said Chʻên
Kung. “General, go out with your horse and foot and take up a position
outside, leaving me to maintain the defence with the remainder of our
men. If he engages you, I will come out and strike at his rear ranks;
if he attacks the city, you can come to our aid. In a few days their
stores will fail and we can beat them off. This will place them between
the horns.”
“The advice seems good,” said Lü Pu.
He went back to his palace and prepared his weapons. As it was the
depth of winter he made his men take plenty of wadded clothing to keep
them warm. His wife heard of it and came to ask whither he was going.
He told her of Chʻên Kung’s plan.
She said, “My lord, you are leaving an undamaged city, abandoning your
wife and little ones and going with a paltry force. Should any untoward
event happen will your handmaid and her lord ever meet again?”
Lü Pu hesitated, and for three days made no move. Then Chʻên Kung came
to see him again and said, “The enemy are all round the city and unless
you go out soon you will be quite hemmed in.”
“I am thinking it would be better to maintain a stubborn defence,” said
Lü.
“Our enemies are short of food and have sent for supplies to Hsütu.
These will soon arrive and you should go out with some veterans and
intercept the convoy. That loss would be a heavy blow.”
Lü Pu agreed and went in to tell his wife the new plan. She wept
saying, “If you go do you think those others equal to the defence of
the city? Should anything go wrong you would be very sorry. You
abandoned me at Chʻangan and it was only through the fortunate kindness
of Pʻang Hsü that I was hidden from our enemies and rejoined you. Who
would have thought you would leave me again? But go, go your way as far
as you wish, and do not mind your wife?”
And she wept bitterly. Lü Pu very sadly went to take leave of Little
Cicada who said, “You are my lord, you must not be careless and ride
out alone.”
“You need not fear; with my mighty halberd and the Hare, my swift
steed, who dare come near me?”
He went out. He met Chʻên Kung and said, “That story about supplies for
Tsʻao Tsʻao is all false, one of his many ruses. I am not going to
stir.”
Chʻên Kung sighed; he felt all was lost.
“We shall die and no man shall know our burying place,” said he.
Thereupon Lü Pu remained in his own quarters with his women folk,
drinking freely to dissipate his sorrows. Two of his advisers went in
and proposed that he should write to the powerful Yüan Shu for help.
Yüan would hardly refuse to rescue the affianced bride of his son. So
he wrote and bade these two take the letter.
Hsü Ssŭ said, “You ought to send a strong escort with us to force a way
through.”
So Lü told off a company and two captains to conduct his messenger
beyond the pass. They started that same night at the second watch,
Chang Liao leading and Ho Ming bringing up the rear. They got out of
the city, crept past Yüan-tê’s camp and got beyond the danger zone.
Then half the escort went on and Chang Liao led the remainder back
toward the city. At the pass he found Yün-chʻang waiting. However, at
that moment Kao Shun came to his help and they all returned and
re-entered the gates.
The two messengers presently reached Shouchʻun, saw Yüan Shu and
presented the letter.
“How is this?” said Shu. “Formerly he slew my messenger and repudiated
the marriage; now he sends to ask for it.”
“It is all due to the vile plans of that monster Tsʻao Tsʻao. I pray
you, Illustrious Sir, to consider it carefully,” replied Ssŭ.
“But if your master was not hemmed in by his enemy and in imminent
danger he would never have thought of renewing this proposal of
marriage.”
The messengers said, “You may decide not to help him, but the teeth are
cold when the lips are gone. It will not make for your happiness and
comfort.”
Said Shu, “Fêng-hsien is unreliable; tell him that I will send soldiers
after the girl has arrived here.”
This was final and the two messengers took leave. When the party
reached Yüan-tê’s camp they decided to try to get through in the
darkness, the escort remaining behind to protect their rear. They tried
that very night and the two messengers crept across without discovery.
But the escort found themselves faced by Chang Fei. Ho Ming tried to
fight but was captured in the very first bout and the men of his half
company were either killed or they fled.
The prisoner was taken to Yüan-tê, who forwarded him to the main camp.
There he told the story of the marriage and the scheme to save the
city. Tsʻao Tsʻao was angry and ordered the execution of the prisoner
at the main gate.
Then he sent orders to each camp to exercise the greatest diligence
with threats of rigorous punishment of the officers of any corps that
permitted any communication between the besieged and the outer world.
Every soldier felt mightily afraid. Yüan-tê returned to camp and
cautioned his brothers saying, “We are in the most important place with
regard to Huainan and you must be very careful not to allow any breach
of this command.”
Chang Fei was inclined to grumble, “We have just captured one of the
enemy’s leaders,” said he, “and there is no word of praise or reward
for us; nothing but new orders and threats. What do you make of that?”
“You are wrong to complain,” said Yüan-tê. “These are orders of the
Commander-in-Chief and what would happen were there no orders? Do not
disobey them, brother.”
They promised obedience and withdrew.
In the meantime the messengers had got back to Lü Pu and told him what
Yüan Shu had said, that if the girl came the soldiers should go.
“But how can she be sent?” said Pu.
“That is the difficulty. Ho Ming’s capture means that Tsʻao Tsʻao knows
the whole plan of getting help from the south. I do not see how any one
but you yourself could hope to get through the close siege.”
“Suppose we tried, to-day?” said Lü Pu.
“This is an ill-omened day; you must not try to-day. To-morrow is a
very lucky day, especially in the evening, for any military action.”
Then Lü Pu ordered Chang Liao and Kao Shun to get ready three companies
for the venture and to prepare a light carriage. He would lead till
they had got a couple of hundred li away. Thence they could escort the
bride-elect the remainder of the way to her new home.
Next evening toward the second watch Lü Pu wrapped up his daughter in
soft wadded garments, bound her about with a mailed coat and took her
on his back. Then with his mighty halberd in hand, he mounted his steed
and rode at the head of the cavalcade out of the city gate. The two
captains followed.
In this order they approached Yüan-tê’s camp. The drums at once beat
the alarm and the two younger brothers barred the way.
“Stop!” they shouted.
Lü Pu had no desire to fight; all he wished was to get through so he
made for a side road. Yüan-tê came in pursuit and the two parties
engaged. Brave as he might be, Lü Pu was almost helpless now that he
was hampered by a girl on his shoulders, whom he was desperately
anxious to preserve from hurt. Beside other parties came up all
shouting and attacking and he had no alternative but to give up his
project and return into the city. He reached his palace very sad at
heart. The besiegers returned to camp well pleased that no one had got
beyond their lines.
Lü Pu found consolation in the wine cup. The siege had gone on for two
months and still the city stood, when they heard that Chang Yang,
Prefect of Honei, had been inclined to come to the help of Lü Pu. But
one of his subordinates had assassinated him and was bringing his head
as an offering to Tsʻao Tsʻao, when he also had been slain by one of
the Prefect’s friends. He had then gone to Tachʻêng.
In the camp of the besiegers there now arose much murmuring. The
officers grumbled saying, “Though Chang Yang, who meant to hurt us, is
happily no more, yet we are threatened on the north by Yüan Shao and on
the east Piao Hsiu is a menace. Here we meet with no success against
the city. We are for leaving Lü Pu to his fate and returning home. We
need a rest.”
Among them Hsün Yü fought against this discontent. “You must not act
like this,” said he. “Lü Pu has lost much and his spirit is broken. The
spirit of the leader expresses that of his men, and when the leader
fails his men do not fight. Chʻên Kung is clever but nothing is done.
Lü Pu broken, Chʻên Kung without decision, it only needs a sharp attack
and we shall succeed.”
“I have a plan to propose,” said Kuo Chia, “a plan to overcome the city
at once; it beats twenty legions.”
“I suppose you mean drowning the city,” said Hsün Yü.
“That is it,” said the proposer, smiling.
Tsʻao Tsʻao accepted the suggestion with joy and set his men to cut the
banks of the I and Ssŭ Rivers, and moved his men to the high ground
whence they watched the drowning out of Hsiaopʻei. Only the east gate
remained clear of water.
The besieged soldiers hastened to their leader. He said, “Why should I
fear? My good horse can go as well through the water as over the land.”
And he again returned to the wine cup for consolation, drinking deeply
with his wife and concubine.
The continual drinking bouts told at last and Lü Pu began to look
dissipated. Seeing himself in a mirror one day he was startled at the
change and said to himself, “I am injuring myself with wine; no more
from this day forward.”
He then issued an order that no one should drink wine under penalty of
death.
Now one of his captains, Hou Chʻêng, lost fifteen horses, stolen by one
Hou Tsʻao, who intended them for Yüan-tê. The owner found out where
they were, went out after them and recovered them. And his colleagues
congratulated him on his success. To celebrate the occasion he brewed a
few catties of wine to be drunk at the feast, but thinking his chief
might find him in fault he sent the bottles of wine to his palace with
a petition explaining that by virtue of his lord’s warlike renown he
had recovered his horses and asking that he and his comrades might be
allowed a little wine at their feast.
Lü Pu took it very angrily saying, “When I have forbidden all wine you
brew some and begin to give feasts; you are simply defying me.”
Whereupon he ordered the officer to instant execution. However, a
number of his colleagues came in and interceded and after a time Lü Pu
softened.
“You ought to lose your head for this disobedience, but for the sake of
your colleagues the punishment shall be reduced to a hundred strokes.”
They tried to beg him off this, but only succeeded in reducing the
number of blows to one half.
When the sentence had been carried out and the offender was permitted
to return home his colleagues came sadly to console him.
“Had it not been for you I should have been put to death,” said Hou
Chʻêng.
Sung Hsien replied, “All he cares for is his family, there is no pity
for any one else. We are no more than the weeds by the roadside.”
Wei Hsü said, “The city is besieged, the water is drowning us out.
There will not be much more of this for we may die any day.”
“He is a beast, with neither a sense of humanity nor of right. Let us
leave him,” said Hsien.
“He is not worth fighting for. The best we could do would be to seize
him and hand him over to Tsʻao Tsʻao.”
“I was punished because I got my horses back again, yet all he trusts
in is his own steed. If you two will betray the gate and seize Lü Pu I
will steal the horse and go out to Tsʻao’s camp.”
They settled how to carry out the plot and that very night Hou Chʻêng
sneaked into the stables and got the Hare away. He hastened to the east
gate which was opened to let him through. The guard made a pretence of
pursuing him but only a pretence.
Hou Chʻêng reached the besiegers’ camp, presented the horse and told
Tsʻao what had been arranged. They would show a white flag and open the
gates to his army. Hearing this Tsʻao had a few notifications written
out, which were attached to arrows and shot over the walls. This is one
of them:—“The General Tsʻao Tsʻao has received a command to destroy Lü
Pu. Those who interfere with the operations of his grand army, whatever
their rank, shall be put to death in the gate on the day that the city
shall be captured. Should any one capture Lü Pu or bring his head he
shall be well rewarded. Let all take note of this.”
Next day at daylight a tremendous hubbub was heard without the city and
Lü Pu, halberd in hand, hasted to the wall to see what it meant. As he
went from gate to gate inspecting the defences and guards he censured
Wei Hsü for letting Hou Chʻêng escape and get away with his horse. He
threatened to punish him. But just then the besiegers began a fierce
attack as the white flag had just appeared and Lü Pu had to turn all
his energies to defence. The assault lasted till noon, when the
attacking force drew off for a time.
Lü Pu was taking a rest in the tower and fell asleep in his chair. Sun
Hsien sent away his attendants, and when they had gone he stole his
master’s weapon, the halberd in which he trusted. Then he and Wei Hsü
fell upon Lü together and before he was well awake had bound him with
cords, trussing him so that he could not move. Lü Pu shouted for his
men, but they were driven off by the two traitors and could not come
near. Then a white flag was shown and the besiegers again approached
the city. The traitors shouted out that Lü Pu was a prisoner. But
Hsiahou Yüan could hardly believe it till they threw down the famous
halberd.
The gates were flung open and the enemy entered the city. Kao Shun and
Chang Liao, who were at the opposite gate, were surrounded and cut off
by the water and helpless. They were captured. Chʻên Kung made a dash
to the south gate but was also taken. Presently Tsʻao Tsʻao entered and
at once gave orders to turn the streams back into their usual courses.
He put out proclamations soothing the people.
He and Liu Pei seated themselves side by side in the White Gate Tower,
with Kuan Yü and Chang Fei in attendance. The captives, to the number
of a thousand, were brought before them. Lü Pu looked a pitiable
object. Although a very tall man he was tied up in a veritable ball.
“The bonds are very tight,” cried he, “I beseech you to loosen them.”
“A bound tiger frets of course,” replied Tsʻao.
Seeing the three traitors standing there looking pleased at their
success Pu said, “I treated you all well enough; how could you turn
against me?”
Said Sung Hsien, “You listened to the words of your women, but rejected
the advice of your captains. Was not that mean?”
Lü Pu was silent. Then Kao Shun was brought forward.
“What have you to say?” asked Tsʻao.
Shun sulkily held his tongue and was ordered out to execution.
Next Chʻên Kung was led in.
“I hope you have been well since we last saw each other, Kungtʻai?”
said Tsʻao.
“Your ways were crooked and so I left you,” said Chʻên.
“You say I was crooked; and what of your serving Lü Pu?”
“Though he was a fool, he did not resemble you in deceit and
wickedness.”
“You say you are able enough and clever, but what about your position
to-day?”
Turning toward Lü Pu, Chʻên Kung said, “This man would not follow my
advice. Had he done so he would not now be a captive.”
“What think you ought to be done about this day’s work?” said Tsʻao.
“There is death for me to-day and that is the end,” shouted Chʻên Kung.
“Very well for you; but what of your mother and your wife?”
“It is said that he who rules with due regard to filial piety does not
harm a man’s family; he who would show benevolence does not cut off the
sacrifices at a man’s tomb. My mother and my wife are in your hands.
But since I am your prisoner I pray you to slay me quickly and not to
try to harrow my feelings.”
Tsʻao’s heart still leaned toward mercy, but Chʻên Kung turned and
walked away, repulsing the attendants who would stop him. Tsʻao rose
from his place and walked with him, the tears falling from his eyes.
Chʻên Kung never looked at him. Turning to his men Tsʻao said, “Let his
mother and family be taken to Hsütu and looked after. This insolent
fellow must die.”
The condemned man heard him but uttered no word. He stretched out his
neck for the blow. Tears sprang to the eyes of all present. His remains
were honourably coffined and buried in Hsütu.
A poem pitying his fate says:—
Neither hope of life nor fear of death moved him.
How brave was he, a hero indeed!
But his lord heeded not his words,
Wherefore in vain possessed he great talents.
Nevertheless, in that he stood by his master,
To parting with wife and mother,
He merits our pity and profound respect.
Who would not resemble Kung-tʻai
That day he died at the White Gate?
While Tsʻao sadly escorted Chʻên Kung on the way to death, Lü Pu
appealed to Yüan-tê, “Noble Sir, you sit there an honoured guest while
poor I lie bound at your feet. Will you not utter one word to alleviate
my lot?”
Yüan-tê nodded. As Tsʻao Tsʻao returned to his place his prisoner
called out, “Your only trouble, Illustrious Sir, is myself and I am on
your side now. You take the lead, I will help you and together the
world is at our feet.”
“What do you think?” said Tsʻao turning to Liu Pei.
“You are willing to forget the episodes of Ting Yüan and Tung Cho?”
“Truly the lout is not to be trusted,” said Lü Pu, looking at Yüan-tê.
“Strangle and expose,” said Tsʻao.
As he was led away the prisoner turned once more to Yüan-tê, “You
long-eared lout, you forget now the service I rendered you that day at
my yamên gate, when my arrow hit the mark.”
Just then some one shouted, “Lü Pu, O fool! death is but death, and why
are you scared at it?”
Every one turned to look; the lictors were hustling Chang Liao to the
place of judgement.
A poet has written upon the death of Lü Pu:—
The flood spreads wide, the city drowns,
Its lord is captive. Nought avails
His courser’s speed or halberd’s thrust.
The tiger erstwhile fierce, now whines
For mercy. Tsʻao had meted him
Full well, a falcon flown at will
And hungry kept. Poor fool! He let
Chʻên Kung’s advice be overborne
By harem tattle; vainly now
He rails against the Long-eared Childe.
And another poem says:—
Bound is the hungry tiger, eater of men, for whom is no pity,
Since the blood of his victims is fresh and not yet dry.
Yüan-tê spoke no word in favour of Lü Pu,
To whom even a father’s life was not sacred.
How could he save him to be a menace to Tsʻao Man.
It was recorded earlier that the executioners were hustling Chang Liao
forward. Pointing to him as he stood there Tsʻao said, “He has a fine
face.”
“You were not likely to forget me; you saw me before in Pʻuyang,” said
Liao.
“O, so you remember me, eh?”
“Yes; more’s the pity.”
“Pity for what?”
“That the fire that day was not fierce enough to burn you up, rebel
that you are.”
Tsʻao began to get angry. “How dare you insult me?” cried he and lifted
his sword to kill the bold speaker.
The undaunted Chang Liao never changed colour, but stretched out his
neck for the blow. Then a man behind Tsʻao Tsʻao caught his arm and in
front of him another dropped on his knees, saying, “O Minister, I pray
thee stay thy hand.”
Lü Pu whining was not spared,
Railing Chang far better fared.
Who was it that saved Chang Liao? The next chapter will show.