CHAPTER XLIV.

KʻUNG-MING STIRS CHOU YÜ TO ACTION:

SUN CHʻÜAN DECIDES TO ATTACK TSʻAO TSʻAO.

The dying message which the Lady Wu recalled to Sun Chʻüan’s memory

was, “For internal matters consult Chang Chao; for external policy Chou

Yü.”

Wherefore Chou Yü was summoned.

But he was already on the way. He had been training his naval forces on

Lake Pʻoyang when he heard of the approach of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s hosts and

had started for Chʻaisengchün without loss of time. So, before the

messenger ordered to call him could start, he had already arrived. As

he and Lu Su were close friends the latter went to welcome him and told

him of all that had happened.

“Have no anxiety,” said Chou Yü, “I shall be able to decide this. But

go quickly and beg Kʻung-ming to come to see me.”

So Lu Su went to seek out Kʻung-ming. Chou Yü had many other visitors.

First came Chang Chao and his faction to find out what might be afoot.

They were received, and after the exchange of the usual commonplaces,

Chang Chao said, “Have you heard of our terrible danger?”

“I have heard nothing,” said Chou Yü.

“Tsʻao Tsʻao and his hordes are encamped up the river. He has just sent

letters asking our lord to hunt with him in Chianghsia. He may have a

desire to absorb this country but, if so, the details of his designs

are still secret. We prayed our master to give in his submission and so

avoid the horrors of war, but now Lu Su has returned bringing with him

the Commander-in-Chief of Liu Pei’s army, Chuko Liang. He, desiring to

avenge himself for the recent defeat, has talked our lord into a mind

for war and Lu Su persists in supporting him. They only await your

final decision.”

“Are you and yours unanimous in your opinions?”

“We are perfectly unanimous,” said Chang.

Chou said, “The fact is I have also desired to submit for a long time.

I beg you to leave me now and to-morrow we will see our master and I

shall make up his mind for him.”

So they took their leave. Very soon came the military party led by

Chʻêng Pʻu. They were admitted and duly enquired after their host’s

health. Then the leader said, “Have you heard that our country is about

to pass under another’s government?”

“No; I have heard nothing,” replied the host.

“We helped General Sun to establish his authority here and carve out

this kingdom, and to gain that end we fought many a battle before we

conquered the country. Now our lord lends his ear to his civil officers

and desires to submit himself to Tsʻao Tsʻao. This is a most shameful

and pitiful course and we would rather die than follow it, so we hope

you will decide to fight and you may depend upon our struggling to the

last man.”

“And are you unanimous, Generals?” asked Chou Yü.

Huang Kai suddenly started up and smote his forehead saying, “They may

take my head but I swear never to surrender.”

“Not one of us is willing to surrender,” cried all the others.

“My desire also is to decide matters with Tsʻao Tsʻao on the

battlefield. How could we think of submission? Now I pray you retire,

Generals, and when I see our lord I will settle his doubts.”

So the war party left. They were quickly succeeded by Chuko Ching and

his faction. They were brought in and, after the usual courtesies,

Ching said, “My brother has come down the river saying that Liu Pei

desires to ally himself with our lord against Tsʻao Tsʻao. The civil

and military hold different opinions as to the course to be pursued,

but as my brother is so deeply concerned I am unwilling to say much on

either side. We are awaiting your decision.”

“And what do you think about it?” asked Chou Yü.

“Submission is an easy road to tranquillity, while the result of war is

hard to foretell.”

Chou Yü smiled, “I shall have my mind made up. Come to-morrow to the

palace and the decision shall be announced.”

The trimmers took their leave. But soon after came Lü Mêng with his

supporters, also desirous of discussing the same thing, and they told

him that opinions differed greatly, some being for peace and others for

war. One party constantly disputed with the other.

“I must not say much now,” replied Chou Yü, “but you will see to-morrow

in the palace, when the matter will be fully debated.”

They went away leaving Chou Yü smiling cynically.

About eventide Lu Su and Kʻung-ming came and Chou Yü went out to the

main gate to receive them. When they had taken their proper seats, Lu

Su spoke first, saying, “Tsʻao Tsʻao has come against the south with a

huge army. Our master cannot decide whether to submit or give battle

and waits for your decision. What is your opinion?”

Chou Yü replied, “We may not oppose Tsʻao Tsʻao when he acts at the

command of the Emperor. Moreover, he is very strong and to attack him

is to take serious risks. In my opinion, opposition would mean defeat

and, since submission means peace, I have decided to advise our lord to

write and offer surrender.”

“But you are wrong,” stammered Lu Su. “This country has been under the

same rule for three generations and cannot be suddenly abandoned to

some other. San Tsʻê said that you were to be consulted on matters

beyond the border and we depended upon you to keep the country as

secure and solid as Mount Tʻai. Now you adopt the view of the weaklings

and propose to yield! I cannot believe you mean it.”

Replied Chou Yü, “The six districts contain countless people. If I am

the means of bringing upon them the misery of war they will hate me. So

I have decided to advise submission.”

“But do you not realise our lord’s might and the strength of our

country? If Tsʻao does attack it is very uncertain that he will realise

his desire.”

The two wrangled for a long time, while Kʻung-ming sat smiling with

folded arms. Presently Chou Yü asked why he smiled thus and he replied,

“I am smiling at no other than your opponent Lu Su, who knows nothing

of the affairs of the day.”

“Master,” said Lu Su, “What do you mean?”

“Why, this intention to submit is perfectly reasonable; it is the one

proper thing.”

“There!” exclaimed Chou Yü, “Kʻung-ming knows the times perfectly well

and he agrees with me.”

“But, both of you, why do you say this?” said Lu.

Said Kʻung-ming, “Tsʻao is an excellent commander, so good that no one

dares oppose him. Only very few have ever attempted it and they have

been exterminated; the world knows them no more. The only exception is

Liu Pei, who did not understand the conditions and vigorously contended

against him, with the result that he is now at Chianghsia in a very

parlous state. To submit is to secure the safety of wives and children,

to be rich and honoured. But the dignity of the country would be left

to chance and fate—— However, that is not worth consideration.”

Lu Su interrupted angrily, “Would you make our lord crook the knee to

such a rebel as he?”

“Well,” replied Kʻung-ming, “there is another way, and a cheaper; there

would be no need to ‘lead the sheep and shoulder wine pots’ for

presents, nor any need to yield territory and surrender seals of

office. It would not even be necessary to cross the river yourselves.

All you would require is a simple messenger and a little boat to ferry

a couple of people across the river. If Tsʻao only got these two

persons under his hand, his hordes and legions would just drop their

weapons, furl their banners and silently vanish away.”

“What two persons could cause Tsʻao Tsʻao to go away as you say?” asked

Chou Yü.

“Two persons who could be easily spared from this populous country.

They would not be missed any more than a leaf from a tree or a grain of

millet from a granary. But if Tsʻao could only get them, would he not

go away rejoicing!”

“But who are the two?” asked Chou Yü again.

“When I was living in the country they told me that Tsʻao was building

a pavilion on the Chang River; it was to be named the Bronze Bird

Pavilion. It is an exceedingly handsome building and he has sought

throughout all the world for the most beautiful women to live in it.

For Tsʻao really is a sensualist.”

“Now there are two very famous beauties in Chiantung, born of the

Chʻiao family. So beautiful are they that birds alight and fishes

drown, the moon hides her face and the flowers blush for shame at sight

of them. Tsʻao has declared with an oath that he only wants two things

in this world, the imperial throne in peace and the sight of those two

women on the Bronze Bird Terraces. Given these two he would go down to

his grave without regret. This expedition of his, his huge army that

threatens this country, has for its real aim these two women. Why do

you not buy these two from their father for any sum however large and

send them over the river? The object of the army being attained, it

will simply be marched away. This is the use that Fan Li made of the

famous beauty Hsi Shih.”

“How do you know he so greatly desires these two?” said Chou Yü.

“Because his son, who is an able writer, at the command of his father

wrote a poem ‘An Ode to the Bronze Bird Terrace,’ the theme only

allowing allusions to the family fitness for the throne. He has sworn

to possess these two women. I think I can remember the poem, if you

wish to hear it. I admire it greatly.”

“Try,” said Chou Yü.

So he recited the poem:—

Let me follow in the footsteps of the enlightened ruler that I

may rejoice,

And ascend the storied terrace that I may gladden my heart,

That I may see the wide extent of the palace,

That I may gaze upon the plans of the virtuous one.

He has established the exalted gates high as the hills,

He has built the lofty towers piercing the blue vault.

He has set up the beautiful building in the midst of the heavens,

Whence the eye can range over the cities of the west.

On the banks of the rolling River Chang he planned it,

Whence abundance of fruits could be looked for in his gardens.

The two towers rise, one on either flank,

This named Golden Phoenix, that Jade Dragon.

He would seize the two Chʻiao; these beautiful ladies of the

south-east,

That he might rejoice with them morning and evening.

Look down; there is the grand beauty of an imperial city,

And the rolling vapours lie floating beneath.

He will rejoice in the multitude of scholars that assemble,

Answering to the felicitous dream of King Wên.

Look up; and there is the gorgeous harmony of spring-time,

And the singing of many birds delighting the ear;

The lofty sky stands over all.

The house desires success in its double undertaking,

That the humane influence may be poured out over all the world,

That the perfection of reverence may be offered to the Ruler.

Only the richly prosperous rule of Huan and Wên

Could compare with that of the sacred understanding.

What fortune! what beauty!

The gracious kindness spreads afar,

The imperial family is supported,

Peace reigns over all the world,

Bounded only by the universe.

Bright as the glory of the sun and moon,

Ever honourable and ever enduring,

The Ruler shall live to the age of the eastern emperor,

The dragon banner shall wave to the farthest limit.

His glorious chariot shall be guided with perfect wisdom,

His thoughts shall reform all the world,

Felicitous produce shall be abundant,

And the people shall rest firm.

My desire is that these towers shall endure for ever,

And that joy shall never cease through all the ages.

Chou Yü listened to the end but then suddenly jumped up in a tremendous

rage. Turning to the north and pointing with his finger he cried, “You

old rebel; this insult is too deep!”

Kʻung-ming hastily rose too and, as if to soothe him, said, “But

remember Shan Yü. The emperor gave him a princess of the family to wife

although he had made many incursions into our territory. That was the

price of peace. You surely would not grudge two more women from among

the people.”

“You do not know, Sir,” replied Chou Yü. “Of those two women you

mentioned, the elder is the widow of Sun Tsʻê, our late ruler, and the

younger is my wife.”

Kʻung-ming feigned the greatest astonishment and said, “No indeed; I

did not know. I blundered; a deadly fault; a deadly fault!”

“One of us two has to go, either the old rebel or I; we shall not both

live. I swear that,” cried Chou Yü.

“However, such a matter needs a good deal of thought,” replied

Kʻung-ming. “We must not make any mistake.”

Chou Yü replied, “I hold a sacred trust from my late lord, Sun Tsʻê; I

would not bow the knee to any such as Tsʻao. What I said just now was

to see how you stood. I left the lake with the intention of attacking

the north, and nothing can change that intention, not even the sword at

my breast or the axe on my neck. But I trust you will lend an arm and

we will smite Tsʻao Tsʻao together.”

“Should I be happy enough not to be rejected I would render such humble

service as I could. Perhaps presently I might be able to offer a plan

to oppose him.”

“I am going to see my lord to-morrow to discuss this matter,” said Chou

Yü.

Kʻung-ming and Lu Su then left. Next day at dawn Sun Chʻüan went to the

council chamber, where his officials, civil and military, were already

assembled. They numbered about three score in all. The civil, with

Chang Chao at their head, were on the right; the military, with Chʻêng

Pʻu as their leader, were ranged on the left. All were in full

ceremonial dress and the swords of the soldiers clanked on the

pavement. Soon Chou Yü entered and, when Sun Chʻüan had finished the

usual gracious remarks, he said, “I hear that Tsʻao Tsʻao is encamped

on the river and has sent a despatch to you, my lord; I would ask what

your opinion is.”

Thereupon the despatch was produced and handed to Chou Yü. After

reading it through he said, smiling, “The old thief thinks there are no

men in this land that he writes in this contemptuous strain.”

“What do you think, Sir?” asked Sun Chʻüan.

“Have you discussed this with the officials?” asked Chou Yü.

“We have been discussing this for days. Some counsel surrender and some

advise fight. I am undecided and therefore I have asked you to come and

decide the point.”

“Who advise surrender?” asked Chou Yü.

“Chang Chao and his party are firmly set in this opinion.”

Chou Yü then turned to Chang Chao and said, “I should be pleased to

hear why you are for surrender, Master.”

Then Chang Chao replied, “Tsʻao Tsʻao has been attacking all opponents

in the name of the Emperor, who is entirely in his hands. He does

everything in the name of the government. Lately he has taken Chingchou

and thereby increased his prestige. Our defence against him was the

river, but now he also has a large fleet and can attack by water. How

can we withstand him? Wherefore I counsel submission till some chance

shall offer.”

“This is but the opinion of an ill-advised student,” said Chou Yü. “How

can you think of abandoning this country that we have held for three

generations?”

“That being so,” said Sun Chʻüan, “where is a plan to come from?”

“Though Tsʻao Tsʻao assumes the name of a Minister of the empire, he is

at heart a rebel. You, O General, are able in war and brave. You are

the heir to your father and brother. You command brave and tried

soldiers, and you have plentiful supplies. You are able to overrun the

whole country and rid it of every evil. There is no reason why you

should surrender to a rebel. Moreover, Tsʻao has undertaken this

expedition in defiance of all the rules of war. The north is unsubdued

and Ma Tʻêng and Han Sui threaten his rear and yet he persists in his

southern march. This is the first point against Tsʻao. The northern men

are unused to fighting on the water; Tsʻao is relinquishing his

well-tried cavalry and trusting to ships. That is the second point

against him. Again, we are now in full winter and the weather is at its

coldest so there is no food for the horses. That is the third point

against. Soldiers from the central state marching in a wet country

among lakes and rivers will find themselves in an unaccustomed climate

and suffer from malaria. That is the fourth point against. Now when

Tsʻao’s armies have all these points against them, defeat is certain,

however numerous they may be, and you can take Tsʻao captive just as

soon as you wish. Give me a few companies of veterans and I will go and

destroy him.”

Sun Chʻüan started up from his place saying, “The rebellious old rascal

has been wanting to overthrow the Hans and set up himself for years. He

has rid himself of all those he feared, save only myself, and I swear

that one of us two shall go now. Both of us cannot live. What you say,

noble friend, is just what I think, and Heaven has certainly sent you

to my assistance.”

“Thy servant will fight a decisive battle,” said Chou Yü, “and shrink

not from any sacrifice. Only, General, do not hesitate.”

Sun Chʻüan drew the sword that hung at his side and slashed the table

in front of him, exclaiming, “Let any other man mention surrender and

he shall be served as I have served this table.”

Then he handed the sword to Chou Yü, at the same time giving him a

commission as Commander-in-Chief, Chʻêng Pʻu being second in command.

Lu Su was also nominated as assistant.

In conclusion Sun said, “With this sword you will slay any officer who

may disobey your commands.”

Chou Yü took the sword and turning to the assembly said, “You have

heard our lord’s charge to me, to lead you to destroy Tsʻao; you will

all assemble to-morrow at the river-side camp to receive my orders.

Should any be late or fail, then the full rigour of military law, the

seven prohibitions and the fifty-four penalties there provided, will be

enforced.”

He took leave of Sun Chʻüan and left the chamber; the various officers

also went their several ways. When Chou Yü reached his own place he

sent for Kʻung-ming to consult over the business in hand. He told him

of the decision that had been taken and asked for a plan of campaign.

“But your master has not yet made up his mind,” said Kʻung-ming. “Till

he has, no plan can be decided upon.”

“What do you mean?”

“In his heart he is still fearful of Tsʻao’s numbers and frets over the

inequality of the two armies. You will have to explain away those

numbers and bring him to a final decision before anything can be

effected.”

“What you say is excellent,” said Chou Yü and he went to the palace

that night to see his master. Sun Chʻüan said, “You must have something

of real importance to say if you come like this at night.”

Chou Yü said, “I am making my dispositions to-morrow; you have quite

made up your mind?”

“The fact is,” said Sun Chʻüan, “I still feel nervous about the

disparity of numbers. Surely we are too few. That is really all I feel

doubtful about.”

“It is precisely because you have this one remaining doubt that I am

come. And I will explain. Tsʻao’s letter speaks of a hundred legions of

marines, and so you feel doubts and fears and do not wait to consider

the real truth. Let us examine the case thoroughly. We find that he has

of Central State soldiers, say, fifteen or sixteen legions, and many of

them are sick. He only got seven or eight legions from the Yüans and

many of those are of doubtful loyalty. Now these sick men and these men

of doubtful loyalty seem a great many but they are not at all fearsome.

I could smash them with five legions. So, my lord, have no further

anxiety.”

Sun Chʻüan patted his general on the back saying, “You have explained

my difficulty and relieved my doubts. Chang Chao is an old fool who

constantly baulks my expeditions. Only you and Lu Su have any real

understanding of my heart. To-morrow you and he and Chʻêng Pʻu will

start and I shall have a strong reserve ready with plentiful supplies

to support you. If anything goes agley you can at once send for me and

I will engage with my own men.”

Chou Yü left; but in his innermost heart he said to himself, “If that

Kʻung-ming can gauge my master’s thoughts so very accurately he is too

clever for me and will be a danger. He will have to be put out of the

way.”

He sent a messenger over to Lu Su to talk over this last scheme. When

he had laid it bare, Lu Su did not favour it. “No, no,” said he, “it is

self-destruction to make away with your ablest officer before Tsʻao

shall have been destroyed.”

“But Kʻung-ming will certainly help Liu Pei to our disadvantage.”

“Try what his brother Chuko Chin can do to persuade him. It would be an

excellent thing to have these two in our service.”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Chou Yü.

Next morning at dawn Chou Yü went to his camp and took his seat in the

council tent. The lictors took up their stations right and left and the

officers ranged themselves in lines to listen to the orders.

Now Chʻêng Pʻu, who was older than Chou Yü, was very angry at being

passed over, so he made a pretence of indisposition and stayed away

from this assembly. But he sent his son to represent him. Chou Yü

addressed the gathering, saying, “The law knows no partiality and you

will all have to attend to your several duties. Tsʻao is now more

absolute than ever was Tung Cho, and the Emperor is really a prisoner

in Hsüchʻang, guarded by the most cruel soldiers. We have a command to

destroy Tsʻao and with your willing help we shall advance. The army

must cause no hardship to the people anywhere. Rewards for good service

and punishments for faults shall be given impartially.”

Having delivered this charge he told off Han Tang and Huang Kai as

leaders of the van, and ordered the ships under his own command to get

under way and go to Sanchiangkʻou. They would get orders by and bye.

Then he appointed five armies with two officers over each while Lü Fan

and Chu Chih were appointed inspectors, to move from place to place and

keep the various units up to their work and acting with due regard to

the general plan. Land and marine forces were to move simultaneously.

The expedition would soon start.

Having received their orders each returned to his command and busied

himself in preparation. Chʻêng Pʻu’s son returned and told his father

what arrangements had been made and Chʻêng Pʻu was amazed at their

skill. Said he, “I have always despised Chou Yü as a mere student who

would never be a general, but this shows that he has a leader’s talent.

I must support him.” So he went over to the quarters of the

Commander-in-Chief and confessed his fault. He was received kindly and

all was over.

Next Chou Yü sent for Chuko Chin and said to him, “Evidently your

brother is a genius, a man born to be a king’s counsellor. Why then

does he serve Liu Pei? Now that he is here I wish you to use every

effort to persuade him to stay with us. Thus our lord would gain able

support and you two brothers would be together, which would be pleasant

for you both. I wish you success.”

Chin replied, “I am ashamed of the little service I have rendered since

I came here and I can do no other than obey your command to the best of

my ability.”

Thereupon he went away to his brother, whom he found in the

guest-house. The younger brother received him and when he had reached

the inner rooms Kʻung-ming bowed respectfully and, weeping, told his

experiences since they parted and his sorrow at their separation. Then

Chin, weeping also, said, “Brother, do you remember the story of Po I

and Shu Chʻi, the brothers who would not be separated?”

“Ah, Chou Yü has sent him to talk me over,” thought Kʻung-ming. So he

replied, “They were two of the noble people of old days; yes, I know.”

“Those two, although they perished of hunger near the Shouyang Hills,

yet never separated. You and I, born of the same mother and suckled at

the same breast, yet serve different masters and never meet. Are you

not ashamed when you think of such examples as Po I and Shu Chʻi?”

Kʻung-ming replied, “You are talking now of love, but what I stand for

is duty. We are both men of Han and Liu Pei is of the family. If you,

brother, could leave Wu and join me in serving the rightful branch,

then on the one side we should be honoured as Ministers of Han and on

the other we should be together as people of the same flesh and blood

should be. Thus love and duty would both receive their proper meed.

What do you think of it, my brother?”

“I came to persuade him and lo! it is I who am being talked over,”

thought Chuko Chin. He had no fitting reply to make so he rose and took

his leave. Returning to Chou Yü he related the story of the interview.

“What do you think?” asked Chou Yü.

“General Sun has treated me with great kindness and I could not turn my

back on him,” replied Chin.

“Since you decide to remain loyal, there is no need to say much; I

think I have a plan to win over your brother.”

The wisest men see eye to eye.

For each but sees the right;

But should their several interests clash,

They all the fiercer fight.

The means by which Chou Yü tried to get the support of Kʻung-ming will

be described in the next chapter.

San kuo; or, Romance of the three kingdoms (volume 1 of 2) · 第 44 / 60 章