TSʻAI YANG PUT TO DEATH, THE BROTHERS’ DOUBTS DISAPPEAR:
MEETING AT KUCHʻENG, LORD AND LIEGE FORTIFY EACH OTHER.
Sun Chʻien had joined Kuan Yü in escorting the two ladies and they were
on the road to Junan when Hsiahou Tun suddenly determined to pursue. So
with a couple of hundred horse he set out. When he was seen
approaching, Kuan Yü bade Sun Chʻien go ahead with the carriage while
he remained to deal with the pursuers. When they were near enough Kuan
Yü said, “In coming after me thus you do not reinforce the magnanimity
of your master.”
Replied Hsiahou Tun, “The Minister has sent no definite instructions.
You have caused the death of several people, among them one of my
lieutenants, and so I have come to capture you. You have behaved most
grossly. He will decide.”
Thereupon he dashed forward with his spear ready to thrust. But at that
moment a rider came up behind him at full gallop crying, “You must not
fight with Yün-chʻang.”
Kuan Yü stayed his steed at once and waited. The messenger came up,
drew from his bosom an official letter and said to Hsiahou Tun, “The
Minister loves General Kuan for his loyalty and honour, and fearing
lest he might be stopped at the various passes, he sent me with this
letter to show when necessary at any point on the road.”
“But this Kuan has slain several commanders of the passes; does the
Minister know that?” said Tun.
The messenger said these things were unknown.
“Then,” said Tun, “I will arrest him and take him to the Minister, who
may set him free or not as he wills.”
“Do you think I fear anything you can do?” said Kuan Yü getting
wrathful.
And he rode forward. Tun, nothing loth, set his spear and prepared for
battle. They met and had reached the tenth encounter when a second
horseman came up at full speed, crying, “Generals, wait a little!”
Hsiahou Tun stayed his hand and asked the messenger, saying, “Am I to
arrest him?”
“No,” replied the messenger. “Fearing lest he should have difficulties
at the passes the Minister has sent me with a despatch to say he is to
be released.”
“Did the Minister know that he had slain several men on the way?”
“He did not know.”
“Since he was ignorant of that I may not let him go,” and he gave the
signal to his men to close in round Kuan Yü.
But Kuan Yü flourished his sword and made to attack them and a fight
was again imminent, when a third rider appeared, who cried,
“Yün-chʻang, give way and do not fight!”
The speaker was Chang Liao. Both combatants made no further move but
awaited his arrival.
He said, “I bring the Minister’s order that since he has heard that
Yün-chʻang has slain certain men on the way he fears that some will
hinder his passage. Wherefore he has sent me to deliver his command at
each gate that Kuan Yü is to be suffered to pass freely.”
Hsiahou Tun said, “Chʻin Chʻi was the son of Tsʻai Yang’s sister, and
he was confided to my especial care. Now this Kuan has killed him and
how can I refrain?”
“When I see his uncle I will explain. But now the main point is that
you have the Minister’s orders to let Kuan Yü pass and you may not
despise his wish.”
So the only thing for Hsiahou Tun to do was to retire; and he did.
“Whither are you going?” then said Chang Liao to Kuan Yü.
“I fear my brother is no longer with Yüan Shao and now I am going to
find him wherever he is.”
“As you do not know where to go, why not return to the Minister?”
“Where is the sense of that?” said Kuan Yü with a smile. “But,
Wên-yüan, you return, and try to arrange pardon for my faults.”
With this he saluted Chang Liao and took his leave. Chang Liao retired
and joined Hsiahou Tun.
Kuan Yü quickly regained the carriage, and as they went along side by
side he told Sun Chʻien what had happened. Several days later a heavy
rain storm came on which soaked everything. Looking about for
protection they noticed a farm under the shelter of a precipice and
took their way thither. An old man came out to them, to whom they told
their story. When they had finished, the old fellow said, “My name is
Kuo Chʻang and I have lived here many years. I am very pleased to greet
the man whom I have known so long by reputation.”
He quickly killed a sheep for their refreshment and brought out wine
for the two men. The two ladies were entertained in the inner
apartments. And while they refreshed themselves their baggage was put
out to dry and their steeds were fed.
As the day closed in they saw several youths come along and their host
said, “My son is come to pay his respects.”
“This is my stupid son,” said he, presenting a lad to Kuan Yü.
“What has he been doing?” asked Kuan.
“He has just come in from hunting.”
The young fellow went out. The old man continued, “All my family have
been farmers or scholars. He is my only son and instead of following in
the footsteps of his ancestors he cares for nothing but gadding about
and hunting, unhappily.”
“Why unhappily?” said Kuan Yü. “In these days of disorder a good
soldier can make a name for himself.”
“If he would only learn the military arts that would be something of a
career, but he is nothing but a vagabond and does everything he should
not. He is a grief to me.”
Kuan Yü sighed in sympathy. The old gentleman stayed till a late hour
and when he took his leave his two guests began to prepare for rest.
Suddenly outside there arose a great hubbub, men shouting and horses
neighing. Kuan Yü called to his people, but as no one answered he and
his companion drew their swords and went into the stable yard. There
they found their host’s son on the ground shouting to his followers to
fight. Kuan Yü asked what it was all about and his men told him that
the young fellow had tried to steal Red Hare, but had been badly
kicked. They had heard shouting and had gone to see what it meant when
the farm people had set on them.
Kuan Yü was very wrathful. “You mean thieves! Would you steal my
horse?” cried he.
But before he could do anything his host came running out saying, “It
was not with my consent that my son did this evil thing. I know he is
very guilty and deserves death. But his mother loves him tenderly and I
pray you to be generous and pardon him.”
“Really he is unworthy of his father,” said Kuan Yü. “What you told me
shows he is a degenerate. For your sake I pardon him.”
Then he told his own people to keep a better lookout, sent the farm
people about their business and, in company with Sun Chʻien, went away
to rest.
Next morning both host and hostess were up betimes waiting to thank him
for forgiving their son’s mad freak. “My currish son has insulted your
tiger dignity, I know, and I am deeply affected by your kindness in not
punishing him,” said the old man.
“Bring him here and I will talk to him,” said Kuan Yü.
“He went out before daylight with a lot of his fellow-rogues and I know
not where he is.”
So Kuan Yü bade them farewell, got the ladies into their carriage and
they moved out of the farmyard, the two warriors riding abreast as
escort. They took the road toward the hills.
Before they had gone far they saw a large party of men, led by a couple
of riders, pouring down one of the gullies. One of the riders wore a
yellow turban and a battle robe. The other was Kuo Chʻang’s son. The
wearer of the turban called out saying, “I am one of the captains of
the Celestial Duke, Chang Chio. Whoever you may be, leave that horse
you are riding for me. You may then go free.”
Kuan Yü greeted the speech with a hearty laugh.
“O you mad ignoramus! If you had ever been with Chang Chio as a bandit
you would have learned to know Liu, Kuan and Chang, the three
brothers.”
“I have heard of the ruddy long beard called Kuan but I have never seen
him. Who may you be?”
Kuan Yü then laid aside his sword, stopped his horse and drew off the
bag that covered his beard thus showing its magnificence.
The turban wearer immediately slipped out of the saddle, laid an angry
hand on his companion and they both bowed low in front of Kuan Yü’s
steed.
“Who are you?” asked Kuan Yü.
“I am Pʻei Yüan-shao. After the death of Chang Chio I was left forlorn
and I got together a few others like myself and we took refuge in the
forests. This morning early this fellow came to tell us that a guest at
his father’s farm had a valuable horse and proposed to me to steal it.
I did not think I should meet you, General.”
The wretched youth Kuo implored that his life might be spared and Kuan
Yü pardoned him for his father’s sake. He covered his face and crept
away.
“You did not recognise me; how then did you know my name?” asked Kuan
Yü.
Pʻei replied, “Not far from here is a mountain called the Sleeping
Bull, where lives a certain Chou Tsʻang, a very powerful man who came
from the west. He has a stiff curly beard and looks very handsome. He
also was a captain in the rebel army, who took to the forest when his
leader perished. He has told me a lot about you but I have never had
the happiness of seeing you.”
Said Kuan Yü, “Under the greenwood tree is no place for a hero’s foot.
You had better abandon this depraved life and return to the path of
virtue. Do not work out your own destruction.”
As they were talking a troop of horsemen appeared in the distance. They
were the men of Chou Tsʻang, as Pʻei said, and Kuan Yü waited for them
to approach. The leader was very dark complexioned, tall and armed with
a spear. As soon as he drew near enough to see he exclaimed joyfully,
“This is General Kuan.”
In a moment he had slipped out of the saddle and was on his knees by
the roadside.
“Chou Tsʻang renders obeisance,” said he.
Said Kuan Yü, “O warrior, where have you known me?”
“I was one of the Yellow Turbans and I saw you then. My one regret was
that I could not join you. Now that my good fortune has brought me here
I hope you will not reject me. Let me be one of your foot soldiers to
be always near you to carry your whip and run by your stirrup. I will
cheerfully die for you.”
As he seemed thoroughly in earnest Kuan Yü said, “But if you follow me,
what of your companions?”
“They may do as they please; follow me or go their ways.”
Thereupon they all shouted, “We will follow.”
Kuan Yü dismounted and went to ask the ladies what they thought of
this. The Lady Kan replied, “Brother-in-law, you have travelled thus
far alone and without fighting men; you have safely passed many dangers
and never wanted their assistance. You refused the service of Liao Hua,
why then suffer this crowd? But this is only a woman’s view and you
must decide.”
“What you say, sister-in-law, is to the point.”
Therefore returning to Chou Tsʻang he said, “It is not that I am
lacking in gratitude but my sisters-in-law do not care for a large
following. Wherefore return to the mountains till I shall have found my
brother when I will surely call you.”
Chou Tsʻang replied, “I am only a rough uncouth fellow, wasting his
life as a brigand. Meeting you, General, is like seeing the full sun in
the skies and I feel that I can never bear to miss you again. As it
might be inconvenient for all my men to follow you I will bid my
companion lead them away, but I will come and follow you on foot
wherever you go.”
Kuan Yü again asked his sisters-in-law what they thought of this. Lady
Kan said one or two made no difference and so Kuan Yü consented. But
Pʻei Yüan-shao was not satisfied with this arrangement and said he
wished also to follow.
Chou said, “If you do not stay with the band they will disperse and be
lost. You must take command for the moment and let me accompany General
Kuan. As soon as he has a fixed abode I will come to fetch you.”
Somewhat discontentedly Pʻei Yüan-shao accepted the situation and
marched off, while his one-time colleague joined the train of Kuan Yü
and they went toward Junan. They travelled quickly for some days and
then they saw a city on a hill. From the natives they heard that the
city was called Kuchʻêng and that a few months before a warrior had
suddenly appeared, driven out the magistrates and taken possession.
Then he had begun to recruit men, buy up horses and lay in stores. The
warrior’s name was Chang Fei. Now he had a large force and no one in
the neighbourhood dared face him.
“To think that I should find my brother like this!” said Kuan Yü,
delighted. “I have had never a word of him, nor knew I where he was
since Hsüchou fell.”
So he despatched Sun Chʻien into the city to tell its new commander to
come out to meet him and provide for their sisters-in-law.
Now, after being separated from his brothers, Chang Fei had gone to the
Mangyang Hills, where he had remained a month or so while he sent far
and near for tidings of Yüan-tê. Then as he happened to pass Kuchʻêng
he had sent in to borrow some grain, but had been refused. In revenge,
he had driven away the magistrate and taken possession of the city. He
found the place well suited to his needs at the moment.
As directed by Kuan Yü, Sun Chʻien entered the city and, after the
usual ceremonies, told Chang Fei the news of both his brothers; that
Yüan-tê had left Yüan Shao and gone to Junan and that Kuan Yü, with
their sisters-in-law, was at his gates. Chang Fei listened without a
word till he came to the request to go out to meet him. At that point
he called for his armour and, when he had put it on, laid hold of his
long spear, mounted and rode out with a large company at his back. Sun
Chʻien was too astonished to ask what this meant and simply followed.
Kuan Yü was very glad when he saw his brother coming, put up his
weapons and, with Chou Tsʻang at his back, rode toward him at full
speed. But as he approached he saw all the signs of fierce anger on his
brother’s face and he roared as he shook his spear, threatening his
brother.
Kuan Yü was entirely taken aback and called out anxiously, “Brother,
what does this mean? Is the Peach Garden Pledge quite forgotten?”
“What impudence is this that you come to see me since your disgraceful
behaviour?” shouted Chang.
“What disgraceful behaviour has been mine?” said Kuan Yü.
“You have betrayed your brother, you have surrendered to Tsʻao Tsʻao
and you have received title and office at his hands. And now you are
come to exploit me. One of us shall die.”
Kuan said, “Really you do not understand and it is hard for me to
explain. But ask the two ladies here, worthy brother, and they will
tell you.”
At this the ladies lifted the curtain of the carriage and called out,
“Brother, why is this?”
Fei said, “Wait a while, sisters, and see me slay this traitor. After
that I will conduct you into the city.”
Said the Lady Kan, “Since he knew not where you were our brother took
shelter with Tsʻao Tsʻao. And since he knew that his elder brother was
at Junan he has braved every danger to escort us thus far on the road.
Pray take a correct view of his conduct.”
The Lady Mi also chimed in, “When your brother went to Hsütu no other
course was open to him.”
“Sisters, do not let him blind you to the truth. Real loyalty prefers
death to dishonour. No good man can serve two masters.”
Kuan Yü said, “Brother, cease to wrong me I pray you.”
Sun Chʻien said, “Yün-chʻang came expressly to seek you.”
“How much more nonsense will you talk?” roared Chang Fei. “How can he
be true-hearted? He came to capture me, I say.”
“Had I come to capture you, I should have come with men and horses,”
said Kuan Yü.
“And are there not men and horses?” said Chang Fei pointing to a point
behind Kuan Yü.
Kuan Yü turned and there he saw a cloud of dust rising as though a
squadron of horse was coming. And soon they were near enough and from
their trumpets and banners they showed themselves to be of Tsʻao
Tsʻao’s army.
“Now will you try to cajole me further?” cried Chang Fei in a rage.
He set his long spear and was just coming on when Kuan Yü said,
“Brother, wait a while; see me slay the leader of these that I may
prove myself no traitor.”
“Well, if you are really true, prove it by slaying that leader, whoever
he may be, before I have finished three rolls of the drum.”
Chang Fei’s condition was accepted. Soon the attacking force was near
enough to make out the leader to be Tsʻai Yang. Sword in hand he rode
at full speed, crying, “So I have found you, slayer of my nephew! I
have a command to capture you and will execute it.”
Kuan Yü made no reply. Raising his sword ready to strike he moved out
and the drums began to beat. Before a roll could be completed the fight
was over and Tsʻai Yang’s head had rolled on the ground. His men
scattered and fled. Kuan Yü, however, captured the young ensign-bearer
and questioned him. The youth said that in very truth the Minister had
not given an order. Incensed at the loss of his nephew, Tsʻai wished to
pursue and attack Kuan Yü although the Minister refused permission. To
satisfy him he had sent Tsʻai to attack Junan and the meeting at this
place was entirely an accident.
Kuan Yü bade him repeat this story to his brother. Chang Fei also
questioned him concerning all that had happened in the capital and the
recital of the whole story satisfied him of the fidelity of Kuan Yü.
Just then messengers came from the city to Chang Fei to say that some
scores of horsemen had arrived at the south gate. They seemed in a
great hurry but no one knew them. Chang Fei, with still a lingering
doubt in his mind, went to look at the newcomers and there saw a score
or two of mounted archers with light bows and short arrows. Hastily
dismounting to see them better he found they were Mi Chu and Mi Fang.
Quickly slipping out of the saddle they came up and Mi Chu said, “After
the dispersal at Hsüchou when we lost sight of you we returned to our
village whence we sent all around for news of you. We heard that Kuan
Yü had surrendered to Tsʻao Tsʻao and our lord was in Hopei. The one of
whom we could hear nothing was yourself. But yesterday, while on our
way, we fell in with some travellers who told us a certain General
Chang, of such and such an appearance, had suddenly occupied Kuchʻêng
and we felt it must be you. So we came to enquire and we happily fell
in with you here.”
Fei replied, “Kuan Yü and Sun Chʻien are here and my two sisters are
with them. They had heard where my elder brother was.”
This news added to the joy of the two newcomers who went to see Kuan Yü
and the women and then they all entered the city. When the ladies had
settled down a little they related the whole story of the adventures on
the road at which Chang Fei was overcome with remorse and bowed before
his brother bitterly weeping. The brothers Mi were greatly affected.
Then Chang Fei related what had happened to him.
A day was spent in banquets and next day Chang Fei wished his newly
found brother to go with him to Junan to see their elder brother
Yüan-tê. But Kuan Yü said, “No; you take care of the ladies here while
Sun Chʻien and I go to get news.”
So Kuan Yü and Sun Chʻien with a small escort set out. When they
reached Junan they were received by Liu Pʻi who told them their brother
was no longer in the city. After waiting some days he had come to the
conclusion that the soldiers were too few and had gone back to Yüan
Shao to consult with him.
Kuan Yü was greatly disappointed and his companion did his best to
console him. “Do not be sorrowful; it only means the trouble of another
journey into Hopei to tell Uncle Liu and then we can all meet at
Kuchʻêng.”
So spoke Sun Chʻien and Kuan Yü accepted it. They took leave of Liu Pʻi
and returned to Kuchʻêng where they related what had happened. Chang
Fei wanted to go with them into Hopei, but Kuan Yü opposed this,
saying, “Seeing you have this city it makes a rallying point for us and
a resting place. We must not abandon it lightly. We two will go and
while away we look to you to keep the city safe.”
“How can you go after killing the two generals, Yen Liang and Wên
Chʻou?”
“That will not stop me. And after I am there I can act according to
circumstances.”
Then he summoned Chou Tsʻang and asked him, saying, “How many men are
there with Pʻei at Sleeping Bull Mountain?”
“I should think four or five hundred.”
“Now,” said Kuan Yü, “I am going to take the shortest road to find my
brother. Can you go to summon your men and lead them along the high
road to assist me?”
With instructions to bring up these men Chou Tsʻang left, while Kuan Yü
and Sun Chʻien and their small escort went off to the north. When they
drew near the boundary Sun Chʻien said, “You must be careful how you go
over; you ought to stop here while I go in, see Uncle Liu and take the
necessary steps.”
Seeing the wisdom of this Kuan Yü stopped there and sent his companion
in advance, he and his followers going up to a nearby farm as an
abiding place.
When they got to the farm out came a venerable man leaning on a staff.
After exchanging salutes Kuan Yü told the old man all about himself.
“My name is also Kuan; my personal name being Ting,” said the old man.
“I know your reputation and I am very happy to meet you.”
He sent for his two sons to come and make their bow. He put up Kuan in
his house and provided for his escort in the farm buildings.
In the meantime Sun Chʻien had made his way to Chʻichow and seen
Yüan-tê, who said, “Chien Yung also is here. We will send for him
secretly to talk over this matter.”
They did so, and when the usual salutes had been exchanged, they three
began to consider the means of getting away.
“You see Yüan Shao personally,” said Yung, “and say you wish to go to
Chingchou to see Liu Piao about a scheme for the destruction of our
enemy. That will give an excuse.”
“That seems best,” said Liu Pei, “but will you go with me?”
“I have another plan to extricate myself,” said Yung.
Having settled their plans, Yüan-tê soon went in to see his protector
and suggested that, as Liu Piao was strong and well posted, his help
should be sought against their enemy.
“I have sent messengers repeatedly to ask his help,” said Shao, “but he
is unwilling.”
“As he and I are of the same family he will not refuse me if I go and
ask him,” said Liu Pei.
“Certainly he is worth much more than Liu Pʻi; you shall go.”
“I have just heard,” Shao continued, “that Kuan Yün-chʻang has left
Tsʻao Tsʻao and wants to come here. If he does I will put him to death
out of revenge for my two officers.”
“Illustrious Sir, you wished to employ him and so I sent for him. Now
you threaten to put him to death. The two men he slew were but deer
compared with such a tiger as he is. When you exchange a couple of deer
for a tiger you need not complain of the bargain.”
“Really I like him,” said Shao. “I was only joking. You can send
another messenger for him and tell him to come soon.”
“May I send Sun Chʻien for him?”
“Certainly.”
After Yüan-tê had gone Chien Yung came in and said to Shao, “If Yüan-tê
goes he will not come back. I had better go to speak to Liu Piao. And I
can keep a watch on Liu Pei.”
Yüan Shao agreed and issued orders for both to go.
On the subject of the mission Kuo Tʻu came in to his chief to dissuade
him. Said he, “He went to speak to Liu Pʻi, but he accomplished
nothing. Now you are sending Chien Yung with him and I am sure neither
will ever return.”
“Do not be too suspicious,” said Shao. “Chien Yung is clever enough.”
That was the end of the interview. Forthwith Yüan-tê sent Sun Chʻien
back to Kuan Yü and then, with Chien Yung, took leave of Yüan Shao and
rode out of the city. As soon as they reached the border line they met
Sun Chʻien and all three rode off to Kuan Ting’s farm to meet Kuan Yü.
He came out to welcome them, bowed and then seized his brother’s hands
while tears streamed down his face.
Presently the two sons of their host came to bow to the visitors. Liu
Pei asked their names.
“These are of the same name as myself,” said Kuan Yü. “The sons are
Kuan Ning, who is a student, and Kuan Pʻing, who is to be a soldier.”
“I have been thinking of sending the younger in your train, General,”
said old Kuan, “would you take him?”
“What is his age?” said Liu Pei.
“He is eighteen.”
Liu Pei said, “Since, O Senior, you are so kind I venture to suggest
that your son should be adopted by my brother, who has no son of his
own. What think you of that?”
Kuan Ting was perfectly willing, so he called his younger son and bade
him make a son’s obeisance to Kuan Yü and to style Yüan-tê, “Uncle.”
Then it was time to get on their way lest they should be pursued and
with them went Kuan Pʻing in the train of his “father.” The lad’s real
father escorted them a short distance and then left. They took the road
to Sleeping Bull Hill. Before they had gone very far they met Chou
Tsʻang with a small party. He was wounded. He was introduced to Yüan-tê
who asked him how it was. He replied, “Before I reached the Hill a
certain warrior, all alone, had fought with my friend Pʻei and killed
him. Then many of our men surrendered to him and he occupied our old
camp. When I reached it I tried to allure the soldiers back to my side
but only succeeded with a few. The others were too afraid. I got angry
and engaged the interloper, who however worsted me time after time and
wounded me thrice.”
“Who is the warrior? what does he look like?” asked Yüan-tê.
“All I know he is a doughty fighter, I do not know his name.”
Thereafter they advanced toward the hill with Kuan Yü in front and
Yüan-tê in rear. When they drew near Chou Tsʻang began to abuse his
enemy, who soon appeared, mailed and armed, coming down the hills.
Suddenly Yüan-tê rode out waving his whip and shouting, “You, O Comer,
are surely Tzŭ-lung?”
The rider, for it was Chao Tzŭ-lung, (Chao Yün), instantly slipped out
of the saddle and bowed by the roadside.
The brothers dismounted to talk with him and ask how he came to be
there.
“When I left you I had no idea that Kungsun Tsan was a man who would
listen to no reason. The result was disaster and he perished in the
flames. Yüan Shao invited me to him several times, but I thought too
little of him to go. Then I wanted to go to Hsüchou to you, but you had
lost that place and Yün-chʻang had gone over to Tsʻao Tsʻao and you had
joined Yüan Shao. Several times I thought of coming to you but I feared
Yüan Shao. So I drifted from one place to another with nowhere to rest
till I happened to come this way and Pʻei Yüan-shao tried to steal my
horse. So I slew him and took possession of his camp. I heard I-tê was
in Kuchʻêng but thought it might be only a rumour. And so the days have
passed till this happy meeting.”
Yüan-tê told him all that had happened to him since they parted and so
did Kuan Yü.
Said Liu Pʻei, “The first time I saw you I felt drawn to you and did
not want to part from you. I am very happy to meet you again.”
“In all my wanderings, trying to find a lord worth serving, I have seen
no one like you. Now I have reached your side that is enough for all my
life. I care not what may happen to me.”
Next they burned the camp, after which they all took the road back to
Kuchʻêng where they were welcomed. They exchanged the stories of their
several adventures and the two ladies related the valiant deeds of Kuan
Yü whereat Yüan-tê was too affected to speak.
Then they performed a great sacrifice to Heaven and Earth with the
slaughter of a bull and a horse.
The soldiers also were recompensed for their toils. Yüan-tê surveyed
the conditions around him and found therein much to rejoice at. His two
brothers were restored to his side and none of his helpers were
missing. Moreover he had gained Chao Yün, and his brother Kuan Yü had
acquired an adopted son Pʻing. Another captain had joined his ranks in
the person of Chou Tsʻang. There was every occasion for feasting and
gratification.
Scattered wide were the brothers, none knew another’s retreat,
Joyfully now they foregather, dragon and tiger meet.
At this time the forces under the command of the three brothers and
their adherents numbered four or five thousand men. Yüan-tê was in
favour of leaving Kuchʻêng and occupying Junan and just then Liu Pʻei
and Kung Tu, commanders of that city, sent to invite him to go there.
So they went. There they devoted all their efforts to strengthen their
army, both horse and foot, but nothing will be said of the recruiting,
purchase of horses and such matters.
However it must be noted that Yüan Shao was much annoyed when Yüan-tê
did not return and at first was for sending a force after him. However
Kuo Tʻu dissuaded him.
“Liu Pʻei need cause you no anxiety; Tsʻao Tsʻao is your one enemy and
must be destroyed. Even Liu Piao, though strongly posted on the river,
is none too terrible. There is Sun Po-fu on the east of the river,
strong, feared, with wide territory, a large army and able counsellors
and leaders; you should make an alliance there against Tsʻao Tsʻao.”
He won his chief to his view and wrote to Sun, sending the letter by
Chʻên Chên.
Just as one warrior leaves the north,
Another from the east comes forth.
Future chapters will reveal the outcome of these dispositions.