CHANG FEI’S GREAT FIGHT AT CHʻANGPAN SLOPE:
LIU PEI, DEFEATED, GOES TO HANCHINGKʻOU.
As related in the last chapter two brothers appeared in front of our
warrior, who rode at them with his spear ready for a thrust. Chung Chin
was leading, flourishing his battle-axe. Chao Yün engaged and very soon
unhorsed him. Then he galloped away. Chung Shên rode up behind ready
with his halberd and his horse’s nose got so close to the other’s tail
that in Chao Yün’s back heart-protecting mirror he could see the play
of the reflection of his weapon. Then suddenly, and without warning,
Chao Yün wheeled round his horse so that he faced his pursuer and their
two steeds struck breast to breast. With his spear in his left hand he
warded off the halberd strokes and in his right he swung the sword
Chʻing-kung. One slash and he had cut through both helmet and head;
Chung Shên fell to the ground, a corpse with only half a head on his
body. His followers fled and Chao Yün retook the road toward Long Slope
Bridge.
But in his rear arose another tumultuous shouting, seeming to rend the
very sky, and Wên Pʻing came up behind. However, although the man was
weary and his steed highspent, Chao Yün got close to the bridge where
he saw standing, all ready for any fray, his brother in arms.
“Help me, I-tê!” he cried and crossed the bridge.
“Hasten!” cried Chang Fei, “I will keep back the pursuers.”
About twenty li from the bridge he saw Yüan-tê with his followers
reposing in the shade of some trees. He dismounted and drew near,
weeping. The tears also started to Yüan-tê’s eyes when he saw his
faithful follower.
Still panting from his exertions, Chao Yün gasped out, “My fault——death
is too light a punishment. The Lady Mi was severely wounded; she
refused my horse and threw herself into a well. She is dead and all I
could do was to fill in the well with the rubbish that lay around. But
I placed the babe in the breast of my fighting robe and have won my way
out of the press of battle. Thanks to the little lord’s grand luck I
have escaped. At first he cried a good deal, but for some time now he
has not stirred or made a sound. I fear I may not have saved his life
after all.”
Then he opened his robe and looked; the child was fast asleep.
“Happily, Sir, your son is unhurt,” said Chao as he drew him forth and
presented him in both hands. Yüan-tê took the child but threw it aside
angrily, saying, “To preserve that suckling I very nearly lost a great
captain.”
Chao Yün picked up the child again and, weeping, said, “Were I ground
to powder I could not prove my gratitude.”
From out Tsʻao’s host a tiger rushed,
His wish but to destroy;
Though Liu Pei’s consort lost her life,
Chao Yün preserved her boy.
“Too great the risk you ran to save
This child,” the father cried.
To show he rated Chao Yün high,
He threw his son aside.
Wên Pʻing and his company pursued Chao Yün till they saw Chang Fei’s
bristling moustache and fiercely glaring eyes before them. There he was
seated on his battle steed, his hand grasping his terrible serpent-like
spear, guarding the bridge. They also saw great clouds of dust rising
above the trees and concluded they would fall into an ambush if they
ventured across the bridge. So they stopped the pursuit, not daring to
advance further.
In a little time several other captains came up, but none dared
advance, frightened not only by Chang Fei’s fierce look, but lest they
should become victims of a ruse of the terrible Chuko Liang. As they
came up they formed a line on the west side, halting till they could
inform their lord of the position.
As soon as the messengers arrived and Tsʻao Tsʻao heard about it he
mounted and rode to the bridge to see for himself. Chang Fei’s fierce
eye scanning the hinder position of the army opposite him saw the
silken umbrella, the axes and banners coming along and concluded that
Tsʻao Tsʻao came to see for himself how matters stood. So in a mighty
voice he shouted, “I am Chang I-tê of Yen; who dares fight with me?”
At the sound of this thundrous voice a terrible quaking fear seized
upon Tsʻao and he bade them take the umbrella away. Turning to his
followers he said, “Kuan Yü said that his brother Chang Fei was the
sort of man to go through an army of a hundred legions and take the
head of its commander-in-chief; and do it easily. Now here is this
terror in front of us and we must be careful.”
As he finished speaking again that terrible voice was heard, “I am
Chang I-tê of Yen; who dares fight with me?”
Tsʻao, seeing his enemy so fierce and resolute, was too frightened to
think of anything but retreat and Chang Fei, seeing a movement going on
in the rear, once again shook his spear and roared, “What mean you,
cowards? You will not fight nor do you run away.”
This roar had scarcely begun when one of Tsʻao’s staff reeled and fell
from his horse terror-stricken, paralysed with fear. The panic touched
Tsʻao Tsʻao, and spread to his whole surroundings and he and his staff
galloped for their lives. They were as frightened as a suckling babe at
a clap of thunder or a weak woodcutter at the roar of a tiger. Many
threw away their spears, dropped their casques and fled, a wave of
panic-stricken humanity, a tumbling mass of terrified horses. None
thought of aught but flight, and those who ran trampled the bodies of
fallen comrades under foot.
Chang Fei was wrathful; and who dared
To accept his challenge? Fierce he glared;
His thundrous voice rolled out, and then
In terror fled Tsʻao’s armed men.
Panic stricken Tsʻao Tsʻao galloped westward with the rest, thinking of
nothing but getting away. He lost his headdress and his loosened hair
streamed behind him. Presently Chang Liao and Hsü Chʻu came up with him
and seized his bridle; fear had deprived him of all self-control.
“Do not be frightened,” said Chang Liao. “After all Chang Fei is but
one man and not worthy of extravagant fear. If you will only return and
attack you will capture your enemy.”
By that time Tsʻao had somewhat overcome his panic and become
reasonable. Two captains were ordered back to the bridge to
reconnoitre.
Chang Fei saw the disorderly rout of the enemy but he dared not pursue.
However, he bade his score or so of dust-raising followers to cut loose
the branches from their horses’ tails and come to help destroy the
bridge. This done he went to report to his brother and told him of the
destruction of the bridge.
“Brave as you are, brother, and no one is braver, you are no
strategist,” said Liu Pei.
“What mean you, brother?”
“Tsʻao Tsʻao is very deep. You are no match for him. The destruction of
the bridge will bring him in pursuit.”
“If he ran away at a yell of mine, think you he will dare return?”
“If you had left the bridge he would have thought there was an ambush
and would not have dared to pass it. Now the destruction of the bridge
tells him we are weak and fearful, and he will pursue. He does not mind
a broken bridge. His legions could fill up the biggest rivers that we
could get across.”
So orders were given to march and they went by a bye-road which led
diagonally to Hanching and then took the road to Minyang.
The two captains sent by Tsʻao to reconnoitre near Chʻang-pan Bridge
returned, saying, “The bridge has been destroyed, Chang Fei has left.”
“Then he is afraid,” said Tsʻao.
He at once gave orders to set a legion at work on three floating
bridges to be finished that night.
Li Tien said, “I fear this is one of the wiles of Chuko Liang; so be
careful.”
“Chang Fei is just a bold warrior, but there is no guile about him,”
said Tsʻao Tsʻao.
He gave orders for immediate advance.
Liu Pei was making all speed to Hanching. Suddenly there appeared in
his track a great cloud of dust whence came loud rolls of drums and
shoutings. Yüan-tê was dismayed and said, “Before us rolls the great
river; behind is the pursuer. What hope is there for us?”
But he bade Chao Yün organise a defence.
Now Tsʻao Tsʻao in an order to his army had said, “Liu Pei is a fish in
the fish kettle; a tiger in the pit. Catch him this time, or the fish
will get back to the sea and the tiger escape to the hills. Therefore
every captain must use his best efforts to press on.”
In consequence every leader bade those under him hasten forward. And
they were pressing on at great speed when suddenly soldiers appeared
from the hills and a voice cried, “I have waited here a long time.”
The leader who had shouted this bore in his hand the Black Dragon sword
and rode “Red Hare,” for indeed it was no other than Kuan Yü. He had
gone to Chianghsia for help and had returned with a whole legion.
Having heard of the battle he had taken this very road to intercept
pursuit.
As soon as Kuan Yü appeared Tsʻao stopped and said to his officers,
“Here we are, tricked again by that Chuko Liang.”
Without more ado he ordered a retreat. Kuan Yü followed him some ten li
and then drew off to act as guard to his elder brother on his way to
the river. There boats were ready and Yüan-tê and family went on board.
When all were settled comfortably in the boat Kuan Yü asked where was
his sister, the second wife of his brother. Then Yüan-tê told him the
story of Tangyang.
“Alas!” said Kuan Yü. “Had you taken my advice that day of the hunting
in Hsütʻien we should have escaped the misery of this day.”
“But,” said Yüan-tê, “on that day it was ‘Ware damage when pelting
rats.’”
Just as he spoke he heard war-drums on the south bank. A fleet of
boats, thick as a flight of ants, came running up with swelling sails
before the fair wind. He was alarmed.
The boats came nearer. There he saw the white clad figure of a man
wearing a silver helmet who stood in the prow of the foremost ship. He
cried, “Are you all right, my uncle? I am very guilty.”
It was Liu Chi. He bowed low as the ship passed, saying, “I heard you
were in danger from Tsʻao Tsʻao and I have come to aid you.”
Yüan-tê welcomed him with joy and his soldiers joined in with the main
body and the whole fleet sailed on, while they told each other their
adventures.
Unexpectedly in the south-west there appeared a line of fighting ships
swishing up before a fair wind. Liu Chi said, “All my men are here and
now there is an enemy barring the way. If they are not Tsʻao Tsʻao’s
ships they must be from Chiangtung. We have a poor chance. What now?”
Yüan-tê went to the prow and gazed at them. Presently he made out a
figure in a turban and Taoist robe sitting in the bows of one of the
boats and knew it to be Kʻung-ming. Behind him stood Sun Chʻien.
When they were quite near Yüan-tê asked Kʻung-ming how he came to be
there. And he reported what he had done, saying, “When I reached
Chianghsia I sent Kuan Yü to land at Hanching with reinforcements, for
I feared pursuit from Tsʻao Tsʻao and knew the road you would take. So
I prayed your nephew to go to meet you while I went to Hsiakʻou to
muster as many men as possible.”
The new-comers added to their strength and they began once more to
consider how their powerful enemy might be overcome.
Said Kʻung-ming, “Hsiakʻou is strong and a good strategical point; it
is also rich and suited for a lengthy stay. I would ask you, my lord,
to make it a permanent camp. Your nephew can go to Chianghsia to get
the fleet in order and prepare weapons. Thus there will be two
threatening angles to our position. If we all return to Chianghsia the
position will be weakened.”
Liu Chi replied, “The Adviser-General’s words are excellent, but I
would rather my uncle stayed awhile in Chianghsia till the army was in
thorough order. Then he could go to Hsiakʻou.
“You speak to the point, nephew,” replied Yüan-tê. Then leaving Kuan Yü
with half a legion at Hsiakʻou he, with Kʻung-ming and his nephew, went
to Chianghsia.
When Tsʻao Tsʻao saw Kuan Yü with a force ready to attack he feared
lest a greater number were hidden away behind, so he stopped the
pursuit. He also feared lest Yüan-tê should take Chiangling, so he
marched thither with all haste.
The two officers in command at Chingchou had heard of what happened at
Hsiangyang and, knowing that there was no chance of successful defence
against Tsʻao Tsʻao’s armies, they led out the people of Chingchou to
the outskirts and offered submission. Tsʻao entered the city and, after
restoring order and confidence, he released Han Sung and gave him the
dignified office of Director of Ambassadorial Receptions. He rewarded
the others.
Then said Tsʻao Tsʻao, “Liu Pei has gone to Chianghsia and may ally
himself with Wu and the opposition to me will be greater. Can he be
destroyed?”
Hsün Yu said, “The splendour of your achievements has spread wide.
Therefore you might send a messenger to invite Sun Chʻüan to a grand
hunting party at Chianghsia and you two could seize Liu Pei, share
Chingchou with Sun and make a solemn treaty. Sun will be too frightened
not to come over to you and your end will be gained.”
Tsʻao agreed. He sent the letters by a messenger and he prepared his
men, horse and foot and marines. He had in all eighty-three legions,
but he called them a hundred. The attack was to be by land and water at
the same time.
The fleet advanced up the river in two lines. On the west it extended
to Chianghsia, on the east to Chʻihuang in Hupeh. The stockades
stretched three hundred li.
At this point the narrative must digress. The story of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s
movements and successes reached Sun Chʻüan, then in camp at Chʻaisang.
He assembled his strategists to decide on a scheme of defence.
Lu Su said, “Chingchou is contiguous to our borders. It is strong and
defensive, its people are rich. It is the sort of country that an
emperor or a king should have. Liu Piao’s recent death gives an excuse
for me to be sent to convey condolence and, once there, I shall be able
to talk over Liu Pei and the officers of the late prefect to combine
with you against Tsʻao. If Liu Pei does as I wish, then success is
yours.”
Sun Chʻüan thought this a good plan, so he had the necessary letters
prepared, and the gifts, and sent Lu Su with them.
All this time Liu Pei was at Chianghsia where, with Kʻung-ming and Liu
Chʻi, he was endeavouring to evolve a good plan of campaign.
Kʻung-ming said, “Tsʻao Tsʻao’s power is too great for us to cope with.
Let us go over to Wu and ask help from Sun Chʻüan. If we can set north
and south at grips we ought to be able to get some advantage from our
mediary position between them.”
“But will they be willing to have anything to do with us?” said
Yüan-tê. “It is a large and populous country and Sun Chʻüan has
ambitions of his own.”
Kʻung-ming replied, “Tsʻao with his army of a hundred legions holds the
Han and the Yangtse. Chiangtung will certainly send to find out all
possible about the position. Should any messenger come I shall borrow a
little boat and make a little trip over the river and trust to my
little lithe tongue to set north and south at each other’s throats. If
the southern men win, we will assist in destroying Tsʻao in order to
get Chingchou; if the north win, we shall profit by the victory to get
Chiangnan. So we shall get some advantage either way.”
“That is a very fine view to take,” said Yüan-tê. “But how are you
going to get hold of any one from the south to talk to?”
Liu Pei’s question was answered by the arrival of Lu Su, and as the
ship touched the bank and the envoy came ashore, Kʻung-ming laughed,
saying, “It is done!”
Turning to Liu Chʻi he asked, “When Sun Tsʻê died did your country send
any condolences?”
“Is it likely there would be any mourning courtesies between them and
us while there was the death of a father to avenge?”
“Then it is certain that this envoy does not come to present
condolences but to spy out the land.”
So he said to Yüan-tê, “When Lu Su asks about the movements of Tsʻao
Tsʻao, you will know nothing. If he press the matter, say he can ask
me.”
Having thus prepared their scheme they sent to welcome the envoy, who
entered the city in mourning garb. The gifts having been accepted, Liu
Chʻi asked Lu Su to meet Yüan-tê. When the introductory ceremonies were
over the three men went to one of the inner chambers to drink a cup of
wine. Presently Lu Su said to Yüan-tê, “By reputation I have known you
a long time, Uncle Liu, but till to-day I have not met you. I am very
gratified at seeing you. You have been fighting Tsʻao Tsʻao, though,
lately, so I suppose you know all about him. Has he really so great an
army? How many, do you think, he has?”
“My army was so small that we fled whenever we heard of his approach;
so I do not know how many he had.”
“You had the advice of Chuko Kʻung-ming and you used fire on Tsʻao
Tsʻao twice. You burned him almost to death so that you can hardly say
you know nothing about his men,” said Lu.
“Without asking my adviser I really do not know the details.”
“Where is Kʻung-ming? I should like to see him,” said Lu.
So they sent for him and he was introduced. When the ceremonies were
over Lu Su said, “I have long admired your genius but have never been
fortunate enough to meet you. Now that I have met you I hope I may
speak of present politics.”
Replied Kʻung-ming, “We know all Tsʻao Tsʻao’s infamies and
wickednesses, but to our regret we were not strong enough to withstand
him. That is why we avoided him.”
“Is the Imperial Uncle going to stay here?”
“The Princely One is an old friend of Wu Chʻên, Prefect of Tsʻangwu and
intends to go to him.”
“He has few men and insufficient supplies, he cannot ensure safety. How
can he receive the Uncle?” said Lu.
“His place is not one to remain in long, but it is good enough for the
present. We can make other plans for the future.”
Lu said, “Sun Chʻüan is strongly posted and is exceedingly well
supplied. He treats able men and scholars with the greatest courtesy
and so they gather round him. Now if you are seeking a plan for your
Prince you cannot do better than send some friend to confer with him.”
“There have never been any relations between my master and yours,” said
Kʻung-ming. “I fear there would be nothing but a waste of words.
Besides, we have no one to send.”
“Your elder brother is there as adviser and is longing to see you. I am
but a simple wight but I should be pleased to discuss affairs with my
master and you.”
“But he is my Director-in-Chief,” said Yüan-tê, “and I cannot do
without him. He cannot go.”
Lu Su pressed him. Yüan-tê pretended to refuse permission.
“It is important; I pray you give me leave to go,” said Kʻung-ming.
Then Yüan-tê consented. And they soon took leave and the two set out by
boat for Sun Chʻüan’s headquarters.
A little boat sailed down the stream
With Chuko well content;
For he could see his enemies
To black perdition sent.
The result of this journey will appear in the following chapter.