MURDER OF A KUEI-FEI:
LIU PEI DEFEATED; FLIGHT TO YÜAN SHAO.
The last chapter closed with the discovery of the “girdle” decree and
the assembly of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s advisers to consider the deposition of
the Emperor Hsien. Chʻêng Yü spoke strongly against this saying,
“Illustrious Sir, the means by which you impress the world and direct
the government is the command of the House of Han. In these times of
turmoil and rivalry among the nobles such a step as the deposition of
the ruler will certainly bring about civil war and is much to be
deprecated.”
After reflection Tsʻao Tsʻao abandoned the project. But Tung Chʻêng’s
plot was not to go unpunished. All five of the conspirators with every
member of their households, seven hundred at least, were taken and put
to death at one or another of the gates of the city. The people wept at
such merciless and wholesale slaughter.
A secret decree in a girdle sewn,
In red blood written, the Emperor’s own,
To the staunch and faithful Tung addressed,
Who had saved him once when enemies pressed,
And who, sore grieved at his Sovereign’s fate,
Expressed in dreams his ceaseless hate,
Carried misfortune and death in its train
But glory to him who died in vain.
Another poet wrote of the sad fate of Wang Tzŭ-fu and his friends:—
Greatheartedly these signed the silken roll,
And pledged themselves to save their King from shame.
Alas! black death of them took heavy toll,
To write their names upon the roll of fame.
But the slaughter of the conspirators and their whole households did
not appease the wrath of the cruel Minister. The Emperor’s Kuei-fei was
a sister of Tung Chʻêng and, sword in hand, Tsʻao Tsʻao went into the
palace determined to slay her also. The Emperor cherished her tenderly,
the more so as she was then in the fifth month of pregnancy. That day,
as they often did, the Emperor, his Consort and the Kuei-fei were
sitting in their private apartments secretly talking of the decree
entrusted to Tung Chʻêng and asking each other why nothing seemed to
have been done. The sudden appearance of the angry Minister, armed as
he was, frightened them greatly.
“Does Your Majesty know that Tung Chʻêng conspired against me?” said
he.
“Tung Cho died long ago,” replied the Emperor.
“Not Tung Cho; Tung Chʻêng,” roared Tsʻao.
The Emperor’s heart trembled but he gasped out, “Really I did not
know.”
“So the cut finger and the blood written decree are all forgotten, eh?”
The Emperor was silent. Tsʻao bade his lictors seize the Kuei-fei. The
Emperor interposed asking pity for her condition.
“If Heaven had not interposed and defeated the plot I should be a dead
man. How could I leave this woman to work evil to me by and by?”
Said the Emperor, “Immure her in one of the palaces till her
confinement. Do not harm her now.”
“Do you wish me to spare her offspring to avenge the mother?” said
Tsʻao.
“I pray that my body may be spared mutilation and not put to shame,”
said Tung Kuei-fei.
Tsʻao bade his men show her the white silk cord. The Emperor wept
bitterly.
“Do not hate me in the realms below the Nine Springs,” said the Emperor
to her.
His tears fell like rain. The Empress Fu also joined in the lament, but
Tsʻao said, “You are behaving like a lot of children,” and told the
lictors to take her away and strangle her in the courtyard.
In vain had the fair girl found favour in the sight of her lord,
She died, and the fruit of her womb perished.
Stern and calm her lord sat, powerless to save,
Hiding his face while tears gushed forth.
When leaving the palace Tsʻao gave strict orders to the keepers saying
“Any one of the Imperial relatives by marriage who enter the Palace
will be put to death, and the guards will share the same punishment for
lack of zeal.”
To make more sure he appointed three companies of Imperial Guards from
his own men and appointed Tsʻao Hung to the command.
Then said Tsʻao to his counsellor, Chʻêng Yü, “The conspirators in the
capital have been removed, it is true, but there are yet two others, Ma
Tʻêng and Liu Pei. These must not be left.”
Chʻêng Yü replied, “Ma Tʻêng is strong in the west and would not be
easily captured. He might be enticed to the capital by suave words and
kindly praises, when he would be at your mercy. The other is at
Hsüchou, strongly posted, and not to be lightly attacked. More than
this, Yüan Shao is at Kuantu and his one desire is to attack you. Any
attempt on the east will send Liu Pei to him for help and he will come
here at once. Then what will you do?”
“You are at fault,” replied Tsʻao Tsʻao. “Liu Pei is a bold warrior and
if we wait till he is fully fledged and winged, he will be more
difficult to deal with. Shao may be strong but he is not to be feared.
He is too undecided to act.”
As they were discussing these things Kuo Chia came in and Tsʻao Tsʻao
suddenly referred the matter to him.
“If I attack Liu Pei, then Yüan Shao is to be feared: what do you think
of it?”
“Shao by nature is dilatory and hesitating and his various advisers are
jealous of each other. He is not to be feared. Liu Pei is getting
together a new army and has not yet won their hearts. You could settle
the east in one battle.”
This advice being in harmony with Tsʻao Tsʻao’s own opinion was
pleasing to him and he prepared an army of twenty legions, to move in
five divisions against Hsüchou.
Scouts took the news of these preparations to Hsüchou. Sun Chʻien first
went to Hsiapʻi to tell Kuan Yü and then went to Hsiaopʻei to tell
Yüan-tê. The two discussed the position and decided that help must be
sought. So letters were written to Yüan Shao and given to Sun Chʻien,
who went north, sought Tʻien Fêng and asked him to take him into the
presence of Yüan Shao. He was introduced and presented his letters.
But Yüan Shao was of melancholy countenance and his dress was all awry.
Tʻien Fêng said, “Why this disarray, my lord?”
“I am about to die,” replied Shao.
“But why do you utter such words?”
“I have five sons, but only the youngest is clever enough to understand
my ideas. Now he is suffering from a disease which places his life in
jeopardy. Think you that I have any heart to talk over any other
affairs?”
“But,” said Tʻien Fêng, “the present combination of circumstances is
unparalleled. Tsʻao Tsʻao is going to attack the east and Hsüchʻang
will be empty. You can enter it with a few volunteers and so perform
good service to the Emperor and save the people from sorrow. You have
only to make up your mind to act.”
“I know the chance is excellent but I am worried and distressed and
fear failure.”
“What are you distressed about?” said Fêng.
“Among my sons only this special one is remarkable and if anything
happens I am done.”
Thus it became evident that no army would be despatched. In
confirmation of this Yüan said to Sun Chʻien, “Go home and tell Yüan-tê
the real reason and say that if anything untoward happen he can come
over to me and I will find some means of helping him.”
Tʻien Fêng struck the ground with his staff. “It is such a pity!” cried
he. “Just as an unique opportunity presents itself everything is
spoiled by the illness of a child.”
He went out. Sun Chʻien saw that no help could be hoped for and set out
to return. When he had arrived and related what he had seen Yüan-tê was
quite alarmed and asked what could be done.
“Do not be troubled, brother,” said Chang Fei. “We can destroy Tsʻao
Tsʻao merely by a sudden attack before his army shall have time to
camp.”
“That would be according to the rules of war,” said Yüan-tê. “You have
always been a bold warrior and that move against Liu Tai shows that you
are becoming a strategist too.”
So he gave his younger brother command of enough men to carry out his
plan.
Now while Tsʻao Tsʻao was in the midst of his march toward Hsiaopʻei a
tornado sprang up and the howling gale tore down one of the banners and
broke the staff. Tsʻao Tsʻao called together his advisers and leaders
to ask them what this portended. Hsün Yü said, “From what direction was
the wind at the time and what was the colour of the flag?”
“The wind was from the south-east and the flag was blue and red.”
“There is only one interpretation; there will be a raid on the camp
to-night.”
Tsʻao nodded. At that moment Mao Chih entered and reported a similar
incident. Tsʻao asked him the portent.
“My foolishness tells me that it means a night raid,” replied he.
Alas for the weakness of this descendant of kings!
He placed his faith on a night raid,
But the broken staff of a banner warned his enemy.
Why should the ancient of days favour the wicked?
“This is evidently providence,” said Tsʻao Tsʻao and he began to make
preparations. He told off nine bodies of men to take stations, leaving
only one of them as if camped while he placed the others in ambush at
eight points.
There was but little moonlight as Yüan-tê and Chang Fei marched their
respective armies toward Tsʻao Tsʻao’s camp. They had left Sun Chʻien
to guard Hsiaopʻei. Chang Fei, since he was the originator of the
stratagem, led the way with some light horse. As they drew near
everything seemed very quiet and no one seemed moving. Then suddenly
lights flashed out all about them and Chang Fei saw he had fallen into
a trap. At once from all the eight directions came out the ambushed
troops.
Chang Fei, dashing this way and rushing that, guarding his van and
protecting his rear, vainly tried to clear himself. The soldiers he
had, being originally Tsʻao Tsʻao’s men, soon gave in and returned to
their old leader. The position became very desperate.
Chang Fei met Hsü Huang and engaged him but his rear was also attacked
by Yo Chin. At length he cut his own way out and with a half score of
his men started to return to Hsiaopʻei. The retreat was cut off. He
thought to make for Hsüchou but felt certain that way was also barred.
No other way seemed open and so he made for the Mangyang Hills.
As Yüan-tê drew near the camp he intended to attack he heard the din of
battle. Then he was attacked in the rear and very soon had lost half
his force. Next Hsiahou Tun came to attack. Thereupon Yüan-tê bolted.
He was pursued by Hsiahou Yüan. Presently he looked about him and found
he had less than half a hundred men following him. He set his face in
the direction of Hsiaopʻei.
But before long he saw that place was in flames. So he changed his plan
and went toward Hsiapʻi. However he found the whole countryside full of
the enemy and he could not get through. So he bethought himself of the
promise of Yüan Shao, that he would find refuge if things went agley,
and determined to go to him till he could form some other plan.
Wherefore he took the Chʻingchou road. But it also was blocked and he
went into the open country and made his way north, not without being
pursued and losing the remainder of his few followers.
He hastened toward Chʻingchou, travelling three hundred li a day. When
he reached the city and summoned the gate the guards asked who he was
and they told the governor, who was Yüan Shao’s eldest son, Tʻan. Yüan
Tʻan was greatly surprised, but he opened the gates and went to meet
Yüan-tê, whom he treated with due consideration.
Liu Pei told the story of his defeat and said he wished for harbour. He
was given suitable quarters and hospitably entertained, while the young
man wrote to inform his father. Then he provided an escort and sent
Yüan-tê on his journey as far as the boundary of Pʻingyüan.
At Yehchün he was met by Yüan Shao in person, with a great escort.
Yüan-tê made a humble obeisance which Yüan Shao hastened to return and
said, “I have been very distressed that, on account of my son’s
illness, I did not come to your aid. It is great joy to see you; the
one desire of my life is satisfied.”
Yüan-tê replied, “The poor Liu Pei you see here has long desired to
take refuge with you, but fate has hitherto denied him that privilege.
Now, attacked by Tsʻao Tsʻao, my family lost, I remembered that you,
General, would receive gentlemen from all sides. Wherefore I put my
pride in my pocket. I trust that I may be found worthy and one day I
will prove my gratitude.”
Yüan Shao received him with much pleasure and treated him exceedingly
well. And they both lived in Chʻichou.
After the capture of Hsiaopʻei, Tsʻao Tsʻao pressed on toward Hsüchou,
which, after a short defence and the flight of the defenders, was
surrendered by Chʻên Têng. Tsʻao Tsʻao led his army into the city,
restored order and pacified the people. Next he wanted to press on to
Hsiapʻi, where Kuan Yü was holding out and keeping guard of Liu Pei’s
family.
Hsün Yü said, “Kuan Yü is there, in charge of his brother’s family, and
he will defend the city to the last. If you do not take it quickly Yüan
Shao will get it.”
“I have always loved Kuan Yü, both for his warlike abilities and his
intelligence. I would engage him to enter my service. I would rather
send some one to talk him into surrender.”
“He will not do that,” said Kuo Chia; “his sense of right is too solid.
I fear any one who went to speak with him would suffer.”
Then suddenly a man stepped out, saying, “I know him slightly and I
will go.”
The speaker was Chang Liao. Hsün Yü looked at him and said, “Though you
are an old acquaintance I do not think you are equal to talking over
Kuan Yü. But I have a scheme that will so entangle him that he will
have no alternative; he will have to enter the service of the
Minister.”
They set the fatal spring beside the lordly tiger’s trail,
They hide the hook with fragrant bait to catch the mighty whale.
How Kuan Yü was to be entrapped will be told in the next chapter.