CHANG SUNG TURNS THE TABLES ON YANG HSIU:
OCCUPATION OF SHU DISCUSSED.
The man who proposed the plan spoken of in the last chapter was Chang
Sung, who belonged to Ichou and held the small office of pieh-chia, or
Supernumerary Charioteer. His appearance was grotesque. He had a broad
forehead, protuberant at the temples like a countryman’s hoe, and a
pointed head. His nose was flat and his teeth protruded. He was a dwarf
in stature but had a deep voice like a great bell.
“What proposal have you to offer that may avert this danger?”
“My proposal is that we gain the support of Tsʻao Tsʻao. As we know, he
has made a clean sweep of the Empire. Lü Pu went first and both the
Yüans followed, all exterminated. Lately he has destroyed Ma Chʻao. In
short he is the one man against whom no one can stand. Therefore, my
lord, prepare me worthy gifts to take to the capital and I will get
Tsʻao Tsʻao to march an army against Hanchung, which will keep this
Chang Lu occupied so that we shall be left alone.”
This met Liu Chang’s views and so he prepared gold and pearls and rich
stuffs, worthy presents for the man of power. And when these were ready
he appointed Chang Sung his emissary. Chang Sung in the meantime
occupied his leisure in secretly copying maps and plans of the west
country. When all was ready he started with a small escort.
They heard this in Chingchou and Kʻung-ming sent a trusty person to the
capital to keep him informed as to all the doings.
Chang Sung arrived in Hsütu, and, after he had established himself in
his lodging, he made daily visits to the Minister’s Palace to try to
obtain an interview. But his last success had filled Tsʻao Tsʻao with
insufferable pride and he did nothing but give banquets. He never
appeared except for the most important affairs, and even carried on the
business of the state in his own residence. So Chang Sung waited many
days. But when he got to know the persons who were nearest the
Minister, he bribed them and obtained an audience.
Tsʻao Tsʻao was seated in the high place, and after his visitor had
finished his salutations, he said, “Your Master Liu Chang has sent no
tribute for several years; why?”
“Because the roads are dangerous and thieves and robbers infest them.
Intercourse is restricted.”
Tsʻao interrupted in a loud harsh voice, “What thieves and robbers are
there when I have cleansed the country?”
“How can you say the land is tranquil when one sees Sun Chʻüan in the
south, Chang Lu in the north, Liu Pei in the west and every one of
these with armies reckoned in legions? The weakest of them has half a
score.”
The mean appearance of the emissary had prejudiced Tsʻao Tsʻao from the
outset, and when he heard these blunt words he suddenly shook out his
sleeves, rose and left the hall. Those in attendance were annoyed with
Chang Sung and said, “How can you behave so rudely when you come on a
mission? Your whole attitude was blunt and discourteous. Happily for
you our lord remembered you had come from afar and did not take open
notice of your fault. The best thing for you is to go home again as
quickly as you can.”
But Chang Sung smiled. “We have no plausible flatterers and glib
talkers in our western country,” said he.
At this, one from below the steps called out, “So you call us plausible
and glib then; and you have none such in your country, eh?”
Chang Sung looked around and saw the speaker was a man with thin
delicate eyebrows crossing narrow eyes set in a pale spiritual face. He
asked his name. It was Yang Hsiu, a son of Yang Piao. The young man was
then employed in the commissariat of the Minister. He was deeply read
and had the reputation of being a clever controversialist, as Chang
Sung knew. So on one side was a desire to confound and on the other
overweening pride in his own ability, with contempt for other scholars.
Perceiving the ridicule in Chang Sung’s speech Yang Hsiu invited him to
go to the library where they could talk more freely. There, after they
had got settled in their respective places, Yang Hsiu began to talk
about the west country.
“Your roads are precipitous and wearisome,” said Yang.
“But at our lord’s command we travel, even through fire and water; we
never decline,” replied Chang.
“What sort of a country is this Shu?”
“Shu is a name for the group of districts known of old as Ichou. The
roads are intersected by streams and the land bristles with steep
mountains. The circuit is over two hundred marches and the area thirty
thousand square li. The population is dense, villages being so close
that the crowing of cocks in one waken the people in the next, and the
dogs barking in this excite the curs in that. The soil is rich and well
cultivated and droughts or famines are equally unknown. Prosperity is
general and the music of pipes and strings can always be heard. The
produce of the fields is piled mountain high. There is no place its
equal.”
“But what of the people?”
“Our administrators are talented as Hsiang-ju (Ssŭma Hsiang-ju): our
soldiers able as Fu-po (Ma Yüan): our physicians are expert as
Chung-ching; our diviners are profound as Chün-pʻing (Yen Tsun). Our
schools of philosophy and our culture stand forth as models and we have
more remarkable men than I can enumerate. How should I ever finish the
tale of them?”
“And how many such as you, Sir, do you think there are at the orders of
your Governor?”
“Our officers are all geniuses; wise, bold, loyal, righteous and
magnanimous. As for poor simpletons like me, they are counted by
hundreds; there are cartloads of them; bushels of them. No one could
count them.”
“What office may you hold then?”
Chang Sung replied, “Mine can hardly be called an office. I am a
Supernumerary Charioteer. But, Sir, what State affairs may you
control?”
“I am an Accountant in the Palace of the Minister,” replied Yang.
“They say that members of your family held office for many generations
and I do not understand why you are not in court service actually
assisting the Emperor, instead of filling the post of a mere clerk in a
private Palace.”
Yang Hsiu’s face suffused with shame at this rebuke, but he mastered
himself and replied, “Though I am among the minor officials, yet my
duties are of great importance and I am gaining experience under the
Prime Minister’s guidance. I hold the office for the sake of the
training.”
Chang Sung smiled, “If what I have heard is true, Tsʻao Tsʻao’s
learning throws no gleaming light on the way of Confucius or Mencius,
nor does his military skill illumine the art of Sun or Wu. He seems to
understand the doctrine of brute force and holding on to what
advantages he can seize, but I see not how he can give you any valuable
training or enlighten your understanding.”
“Ah, Sir; that comes of dwelling in out-of-the-way parts. How could you
know of the magnificent talents of the great Minister? But I will show
you something.”
He called up an attendant and bade him bring a book from a certain
case. He showed this to his guest, who read the title “The New Book of
Mêng-tê.” Then he opened it and read it through from the beginning, the
whole thirteen chapters. They all dealt with the art of war.
“What do you take this to be?” asked Chang Sung, when he had finished.
“This is the great Minister’s discussion of the art of ancient and
modern war composed on the model of Sun’s treatise. You may be
disdainful of the Minister’s talents but will this not go down to
posterity?”
“This book! Every child in Shu knows this by heart. What do you mean by
calling it a new book? It was written by some obscure person of the
time of the Warring States (Chou Dynasty, about 320 B.C.) and Tsʻao
Tsʻao has plagiarised it. But he has deceived no one but you, Sir.”
“But what is the use of your sarcastic insult in saying that your
school children know the book by rote? It has never been given to the
world although copies have been made. It belongs to his private
library.”
“Do you disbelieve me? Why, I know it and could repeat it.”
Then he repeated the whole book, word for word, from beginning to end.
“You remember it like this after only one reading! Really you are
marvellous.”
He boasted not a handsome face,
Nor was his body blessed with grace.
His words streamed like a waterfall,
He read a book and knew it all.
Shu’s glories could he well rehearse,
His lore embraced the universe.
Or text or note of scholiast
Once read, his memory held fast.
At leave-taking Yang Hsiu said, “Remain a while in your lodgings till I
can petition our Minister to give you another interview.”
Chang Sung thanked him and left. By and bye Yang Hsiu went to see Tsʻao
Tsʻao on the matter of receiving the emissary from the west and said,
“Sir, why did you formerly treat Chang Sung so off-hand.”
“He spoke very rudely; that is why.”
“But you bore with Mi Hêng; why not with this man?”
“Mi Hêng’s reputation for scholarship stood highest of all and I could
not bear to put him to death. But what ability has this Chang?”
“To say nothing about his speech being like the River of Heaven,
nothing daunts his talent for dialectic. I happened to show him your
new treatise; he read it over once and could repeat it. From this it is
evident he is cultured and has a prodigious memory. There are few like
him in the world. But he said the book was the work of an obscure
person of a few hundred years back and every school boy in his country
knew it.”
“It only shows that the ancients and I are in secret sympathy,” replied
Tsʻao.
However, he ordered the book to be torn up and burned.
“Then may I bring him to see you, Sir, that he may see the glory of our
court.”
Tsʻao Tsʻao grudgingly consented, saying, “I am reviewing troops
to-morrow on the western parade-ground. You may bring him there and let
him see what my army looks like. He will be able to talk about it when
he goes home. When I have dealt with the south I shall take the west in
hand.”
Hence the very next day Yang Hsiu took Chang Sung over to the west
parade ground, where a review of the Tiger Guard was to be held. There
were five legions of them, and when drawn up in order, they made a very
brave show with their gleaming helmets and bright new uniforms. Their
drums rolled to shake the heavens and their weapons glittered in the
sun. Their discipline and order were perfect; their gay banners
fluttered in the breeze. They looked ready to fly even, so alert and
smart were they.
Chang Sung glanced at them contemptuously. After a long time Tsʻao
Tsʻao called up Chang Sung and, pointing to his army, said, “Have you
ever seen such fine bold fellows in your country?”
“We never see this military parade in Shu; we govern men by
righteousness.”
Tsʻao Tsʻao changed colour and looked hard at the bold speaker, who
gazed back at him without the least sign of fear. Yang Hsiu shot a
quick glance at him, but Tsʻao went on, “I regard the rat-class of the
world [There is a pun here; the characters for “rat” and “Shu” are read
the same] as of no more importance than so many weeds, and for my army
to reach a place is to overcome it, to give battle is to conquer, to
besiege is to take. Those who are with me, live; but those who oppose
me, die. Do you understand?”
“O Minister, I know well that when you march out your army you always
conquer. I knew it when you attacked Lü Pu at Pʻuyang; and when you
fought Chang Hsiu at Wanchʻêng; and when you met Chou Yü at the Red
Wall; and when Hua Yung encountered Kuan Yü; and on that day when you
cut off your beard and threw away your robe at the Pass; and when you
hid in a boat to escape the arrows on the Wei River. On all these
occasions no one could stand against you.”
It made Tsʻao Tsʻao very angry to be thus twitted with his misfortunes
and he said, “You stuck-up pedant! How dare you thus bring up all my
failures?”
He called to his attendants to eject the bold disputant and put him to
death.
Yang Hsiu ventured to argue with him saying, “You may behead him, but
he came from Shu bearing tribute and his death would have a very evil
effect on all distant peoples.”
But Tsʻao Tsʻao was too angry to be reasonable and persisted. However,
Hsün Yü also remonstrated and Chang Sung was not put to death. But he
was beaten and ejected. He returned to his lodging and left the city
that night, reflecting upon what he had intended and what he had
accomplished.
Thought he, “I did not expect such arrogance when I came with the
intention of giving him a province. When I get back Liu Chang will
expect great things. Now I am returning empty handed and a failure to
endure the laughter of my fellow countrymen. I will not go back. I have
heard of the virtues of Liu Pei and I will go to him and see what
manner of man he is. Then I can decide what to do.”
So with his little escort and following he made for Chingchou. He had
reached the boundaries of Yingchou (Wuchʻang) when he met a troop of
horsemen, at the head of whom rode a captain in simple undress, who
pulled up, saying, “Surely you are the Charioteer Chang.”
“I am he,” said Chang Sung.
The captain quickly dismounted and humbly said, “I have expected you
these many days. I am Chao Yün.”
Chang Sung dismounted and returned the salutation saying, “Then you are
no other than Chao Tzŭ-lung, of Chʻangshan.”
“No other,” was the reply. “And my lord Liu Yüan-tê bade me await you
here and offer you refreshment after your long and toilsome journey.”
At this some soldiers brought forward wine and food which they offered
kneeling.
Chang Sung said, “I am come because the world says Liu Pei is liberal
and kindly disposed.”
After a few cups of wine the two retook the road toward Chingchou,
which they neared next day at evening. They went to the guest-house.
Here they found a large number of men who received the visitor with the
beating of drums and every sign of respect. And the officer in command,
bowing low, said, “My brother sent me to meet you after your long and
dusty journey and prepare the guest house for your reception. My name
is Kuan.”
So Chang Sung and Chao Yün dismounted and entered the rest-house, where
hosts and guest exchanged formal salutations and took their seats. In a
short time refreshments were served and both men were most diligent in
their attention to the traveller. This roadside banquet was prolonged
to the time of setting the watch, when they prepared for rest.
Next morning, after the early meal, they mounted and continued their
journey. Very soon they met Yüan-tê himself, with an escort, and his
two chief advisers, deferentially standing by the roadside.
As soon as he recognised them, Chang Sung dismounted and walked toward
them. Yüan-tê received him with extreme respect.
“Your exalted name has been long known to me,” said Yüan-tê, “it has
reverberated through my ears. My one regret is that cloudy hills and
long distances have hitherto prevented me from enjoying the advantage
of your instruction. Hearing that you were passing through, I have come
to meet you and if you would be willing to notice me and condescend to
rest for a time in my desolate city, thus allowing me to satisfy my
long disappointed desire to see you, I should indeed hold myself
fortunate.”
Naturally the traveller’s vanity was tickled and he joyfully remounted.
They rode bridle to bridle into the city. When they reached the
residence again they exchanged profound salutations and compliments
before they took their various places as host and guest. And then a
banquet was served. But all throughout Yüan-tê refrained from saying a
word about Shu; he only chatted on general and common things.
The visitor noted this steady avoidance and resolved to probe his
host’s thoughts.
“How many districts are there in Chingchou, where you are now, O
Imperial Uncle?”
Kʻung-ming replied, “Chingchou is only ours temporarily; we have
borrowed it from Wu. They are always sending messengers to demand its
return. However, now that our lord has married the daughter his
position is more secure. But it is still temporary.”
“Wu is large,” said Chang Sung, “yet their six districts and their
eighty one departments do not satisfy them. The people are strong and
the land is fruitful.”
Said Pʻang Tʻung, “Our lord, being of the dynastic family, certainly
cannot merely occupy two districts. Those others, thievish as they are,
may indeed seize upon as much territory as they are strong enough to
hold, but such deeds are not according to the wise man’s heart.”
“Noble Sirs, pray say no more: what virtue have I that I should expect
anything from the future?” said Liu Pei.
“Not so, indeed,” said Chang Sung. “Illustrious Sir, you are of the
lineage of Han; your noble character is widely known. No one could say
that your fate excludes all thought of occupying territory, where you
might begin to set up authority and take an Emperor’s position.”
Yüan-tê deprecated such a suggestion, “Sir, you go too far; this really
is too much.”
The next three days were spent in banquets and wine-parties, but all
the time no mention was made of the western province. And when, at the
end of that time, Chang Sung took leave, his host was at the ten li
rest-house to bid him farewell and offer refreshment. When the moment
came for the parting Liu Pei raised his wine-cup and said, “I am
sincerely grateful that you deigned to come here. You have prolonged
your visit to three days, but now the moment of parting has come. Who
knows when I may have the privilege of receiving your instructions
again?”
As he said this the tears flowed, but he hid them while Chang Sung,
willing to believe that this emotion was on his account, thought how
wonderfully kind and noble his host must be to be thus affected. Quite
overcome, he decided to speak about Hsichʻuan. So he said, “I have
thought that I, too, would come to you one day, but so far I have found
no way. I see Sun Chʻüan on the east, always ready to pounce; I see
Tsʻao Tsʻao on the north, greedy to swallow. So this is not a wholly
desirable place for you to remain in.”
“I know this but too well,” said Liu Pei, “but I have no secure place
to go to.”
“Ichou is well protected, has much fertile soil, is populous and well
governed. Its scholars are attracted by your virtue. If you marched
your armies westward you could easily become a real power there and
restore the glory of the Hans.”
“But how dare I attempt this? The ruler is also of the Imperial House.
The whole province is devoted to him for his good deeds, and no other
man could attain such a hold.”
“I am no traitor,” said Chang Sung, “but in your presence I feel
constrained to be perfectly open and plain. Liu, the prefect of Ichou,
is naturally weak and can neither use the wise nor employ the capable.
Then again Chang Lu threatens the north. People are distracted and
would gladly welcome an appreciative ruler. The journey I have just
made was to propose to support Tsʻao Tsʻao and place the province under
him, but I found him rebellious and set on evil, proud and arrogant. So
I have turned aside to you. If you will take Hsichʻuan, you will have a
base from which to deal with Hanchung when you will, and the whole
country beside. You will continue the rightful line and your name will
live in history. Would not that be real fame? If then you think of
taking our country I am willing to do what little I can as an ally
within. But do you contemplate such a step?”
“I am deeply grateful that you think so well of me. But the Prefect
being a member of the family, I should lay myself open to general
execration were I to attack him.”
“When a hero finds himself in the world, his duty is to work out his
destiny, to exert himself and perform his task as best as he can, to
press forward among the foremost. At the moment the position is that,
if you fail to seize this opportunity, some other will take possession
and you will regret when too late.”
“And I have heard much of the difficult nature of the country, its many
high mountains and numerous streams, and its narrow roads. How could
such a country be invaded?”
Then Chang Sung drew the map from his sleeve. “I am so deeply affected
by your virtue that I offer you this map of the country, whereby its
roads and rivers may be known.”
Yüan-tê unrolled the map; it was covered with notes, on the lie of the
land, lengths and widths, and such matters. Strategical points on
rivers and hills were shown, and store-houses and granaries and
treasuries. Everything was plainly stated.
Chang Sung went on, “Sir, you can prepare your plans promptly. I have
two friends who will certainly help you. And when they come to see you,
you may be perfectly frank with them. Their names are Fa Chêng and Mêng
Ta.”
Yüan-tê thanked him with joined hands. Said he, “As the blue mountains
grow not old and the green waters always remain, so shall I never
forget. And when I shall have accomplished my task you shall have no
mean reward.”
“I look for no reward. Having met with an enlightened lord I felt
compelled to unbosom myself to him.”
Chang Sung left soon after and Kuan Yü escorted him for a long
distance.
After arrival in Ichou, Chang Sung lost no time in sending for his
friends, Fa Chêng and Mêng Ta. The former was the first to come and he
was told of Tsʻao Tsʻao’s arrogance and haughtiness toward men of
parts. “As for the man himself,” said he, “he is a man to grieve with
but not a man to rejoice with. I have promised Ichou to Liu Pei, the
Imperial Uncle, and I want your especial advice and assistance.”
“I think Liu Chang incapable,” said Fa Chêng, “and I have felt drawn to
Liu Pei for some time past. So we are in sympathy here.”
Shortly after Mêng Ta arrived. Mêng Ta and Fa Chêng were fellow
townsmen. When Mêng Ta entered the room and saw the other two in
earnest and secret conversation, he said, “I know what you two are
about; you are scheming to hand over Ichou to somebody.”
“It is really so; you have guessed right,” said Chang Sung. “But to
whom ought it to go?”
“There is but one; Liu Pei,” said Mêng Ta.
All three clapped their hands and laughed.
Then said Fa Chêng to Chang Sung, “You will see our lord to-morrow;
what about that?”
“I shall recommend that you two be sent to Chingchou on a mission.”
They thought that a suitable scheme. And when the lately arrived
messenger saw his master and was asked how he had fared, Chang Sung
said, “Tsʻao Tsʻao is a rebel who desires to get the whole country into
his hands. I need hardly tell you that. But he also hankers after this
district.”
“Then what will become of us?” said Liu Chang.
“I have a plan to check both our enemies. Liu, the Imperial Uncle, now
in Chingchou, is a relative of yours and he is generous and well
disposed. This is a matter of common knowledge. Tsʻao Tsʻao was simply
overwhelmed at the result of the battle at Red Wall and Chang Lu more
so. Now my plan is that you ally yourself with your distinguished
relative against Tsʻao Tsʻao and Chang Lu.”
“I have been thinking thus for a long-time; can you recommend a
suitable emissary?”
“The only ones are Fa Chêng and Mêng Ta.”
These two were summoned and, meanwhile, a letter was prepared. Fa Chêng
was to proceed as emissary to open up friendly relations and Mêng Ta
would follow in due course with an army to welcome Liu Pei into the
west country.
While still discussing the details of the policy, a person forced his
way in, his face all running with sweat, and cried out, “My lord; your
land will be lost to you and pass to another if you listen to Chang
Sung.”
Chang Sung turned a startled look on the intruder, who was a certain
Huang Chʻüan of Hsiliang, an accountant in the Prefect’s Palace.
The Prefect said, “Why do you use such language? Yüan-tê is of my
family and so I am seeking his support.”
Said Huang Chʻüan, “I know all about him; he is liberal-minded to gain
people to his side and his softness can overcome the hardest. He is
bolder than any other. He gains men’s hearts from afar off and those
near him look up to him. He also has the wisest advisers and the
boldest warriors. But if you call him here as a soldier, think you that
he will be content to remain in a lowly condition? And if you treat him
as an honoured guest, can a State stand two rulers? Hear me, my lord,
and you stand secure as Mount Tʻai; be deaf to my words and your
position is as precarious as a pile of eggs. This Chang Sung has lately
come home through Chingchou where he has certainly been plotting with
Liu Pei. Slay this man; and make an end of Liu Pei. That will be for
the happiness of this land.”
“But how else am I to fend off my two enemies?”
“Fortify your country; dig out your moats and raise your ramparts. Then
you can wait on events.”
“If these rebels invade this land the position will be critical, as
when fire singes one’s eyebrows. It is idle talk to tell me to wait on
events.”
No notice was taken of Huang Chʻüan, and Fa Chêng was about to set out
when another interfered, crying, “No, No.” This was a secretary, Wang
Lei.
With bowed head Wang Lei stood and said, “My lord will bring misfortune
upon himself if he listens to this Chang Sung.”
“Not so; I make an alliance with Liu Yüan-tê in order to withstand
Chang Lu.”
“A Chang Lu invasion would be but a skin disease. Liu Pei’s entry into
this country would be a mortal malady. Liu Pei is an unscrupulous
bravo; he was once in Tsʻao Tsʻao’s service and plotted against him.
Then he hung on to Sun Chʻüan and seized Chingchou. This shows his
character and his designs. Think you that you two can dwell together?
If you invite him, then Hsichʻuan is lost.”
“No more wild talk!” cried Liu Chang angrily. “Yüan-tê is of my clan
and family and will not ravish me of my possessions.”
He bade the lictors escort both men outside and ordered Fa Chêng to set
out. So he did; and before long came to Chingchou. When the salutations
were over he presented his letter, which Yüan-tê opened and read.
“I, Liu Chang, a younger brother of our family, now write to General
Liu Yüan-tê. From my humble place long have I gazed in your direction,
but the roads of Shu are precipitous and I have failed to send my
tribute. This is to my shame. The victims of misfortune aid each other
and those in trouble support each other. If friends act thus, how much
more should members of the same family? Now Chang Lu is mustering an
army of invasion on my northern frontier, much to the injury of my
tranquillity. Wherefore I send this letter that you may know of my
distress and if you remember the kindly bonds of family and will play a
brotherly part and lead your armies to destroy these ruffians, you will
be my eternal protector and I shall be ever grateful. This letter
leaves much unsaid, but I await your coming.”
This letter greatly pleased Yüan-tê. He made a banquet for the bearer
thereof, and when they had mellowed themselves with wine, he dismissed
the attendants and spoke to Fa Chêng in confidence.
“Friend, I have long admired you, and Chang Sung extolled your virtues.
I shall always feel grateful for this opportunity of hearing you.”
Fa Chêng bowed. “That is too great praise for a humble emissary from
Shu. But they say that horses always neighed in recognition of Po Lo,
the supreme judge of horses, and when a man has found his lord he dies
for him. Have you thought further of Chang Sung’s proposals, General?”
“I have always been a wanderer, often in suffering and sorrow. I have
often thought of the wren for even that tiny bird has a twig to rest
on; and of the cunning hare, that secures safety with three openings to
its burrow. Does not a man need at least a shelter? Your land of Shu is
fertile and a temptation, but its ruler is of my family and I cannot
plot against him.”
“Yes; Ichou is a very paradise. But without a ruler it cannot exist.
Liu Chang knows not how to use the wise man and his heritage must
speedily pass to another. To-day it is offered to your hands and you
must not miss the opportunity. You know the saying, that the leader in
the hunt gets the quarry. If you will only consent, I will serve you to
the death.”
Yüan-tê signified his gratitude. Said he, “Let me reflect for a time
and take advice.”
The banquet terminated and the guest left. Kʻung-ming conducted Fa
Chêng to his lodging while his master sat thinking. Then Pʻang Tʻung
said, “You must decide; not to decide is foolish. You are of high
intelligence, my lord, and why do you hesitate?”
“What should my reply be?” asked Yüan-tê.
“You know these surroundings and with them you cannot attain your ends.
Now before you lies a populous, fertile and rich land, a base with the
greatest possibilities. You have the promise of assistance from two men
within and it seems like a gift of providence. Why hesitate?”
“Now there are two men in the world as mutually antagonistic as fire
and water. My opposite is Tsʻao Tsʻao. He is impetuous and I am long
suffering; he is cruel and I am humane; he feigns, while I am true. In
all particulars I act the direct contrary to him. I refuse to risk the
loss of the confidence and trust of the world for a trifling
advantage.”
Pʻang Tʻung smiled at these sentiments. “My lord’s words are quite in
accord with abstract rectitude, but such ideas scarcely suit the days
of rebellion. There are other ways of fighting than with warlike
weapons, but to adhere too obstinately to the idea of abstract
rectitude is to do nothing. One must be an opportunist, annex the weak
and attack the wilfully deluded: seize the recalcitrant and protect the
docile. These were the teachings of Tʻang and Wu. If after the
settlement you reward with righteousness and make of the land a great
country, will you be guilty of a breach of trust? Remember if you do
not take it now another will.”
Yüan-tê, a prey to confused emotions, replied, “These words are as
jewels; they should be engraven on my very heart.”
Thereupon he summoned Kʻung-ming to settle the details of an army to
march west.
Kʻung-ming said, “This is an important place and must be well
defended.”
Liu Pei replied, “I, Pʻang Tʻung and my two captains Huang Chung and
Wei Yen will go into Hsichʻuan; you and our three best captains, my two
brothers and Chao Tzŭ-lung, can defend Chingchou.”
Kuan Yü was told off for Hsiangyang and the narrow pass of Chʻingni,
Chang Fei went along the river and Chao Yün camped at Chiangling. For
the march westward, Huang Chung led the van, Wei Yen had the rearguard,
while Yüan-tê moved in the centre. Pʻang Tʻung was commander of the
whole army.
Just as the five legions were starting there came Liao Hua to
surrender; he and his men were attached to Kuan Yü.
It was in the winter that the expedition started. Soon they met the
force under Mêng Ta, five companies, to act as escort into Ichou. Liu
Pei informed Liu Chang that he had started and the latter sent orders
to the districts along the road to entertain them well on the march.
The Prefect proposed to go out in person to welcome Liu Pei and ordered
carriages to be prepared and tents and banners. All the escort were
dressed in glittering armour. At this the accountant, Huang Chʻüan, the
sturdy opponent of the invitation to Liu Pei, again remonstrated.
“My lord, if you go out you will be exposed to danger. I have been in
your service for many years and I would prevent you from being the
victim of another’s wiles. I pray you reflect.”
Chang Sung said, “His words are those of one who would sow discord in a
family and encourage the power of the robbers who threaten you.
Assuredly such action is to your detriment.”
Liu Chang then spoke angrily to Huang Chʻüan saying, “I have decided,
and why do you oppose me?”
The objector bowed his head and wept. Then approaching nearer he seized
hold of the Prefect’s robe with his teeth to hinder him. Liu Chang
angrily shook his robe and rose from his seat, but Huang Chʻüan still
held on till two of his teeth fell out. Then the lictors forced him
away and he retired, still crying.
As Liu Chang was starting another man cried, “My lord, do you neglect
the loyal words of your faithful Huang Chʻüan to go to your death?”
And he threw himself prostrate at the steps in remonstrance. He was
one, Li Kʻuei, of Chienning.
“The prince may have Ministers who remonstrate with him and the father
may have sons who oppose,” said he. “Huang Chʻüan has spoken faithfully
and you ought to listen. To let Liu Pei into this land is to welcome
the tiger into your gates.”
“Yüan-tê is my brother and will not harm me,” said the Prefect. “And
any other who shall oppose me shall suffer death.”
So Li Kʻuei was thrust out.
“The officers of Shu regard the safety of their families and no longer
render you service. The captains are arrogant and each has some scheme
of his own to further. If you do not get Liu Pei to oppose the enemy
without and your own people oppose you within, surely you are on the
road to ruin.”
So spoke Chang Sung and the Prefect replied that he knew the plan was
for his advantage. Whereupon he mounted his horse to ride out to Elm
Tree Bridge.
Then it was reported to him that Wang Lei had suspended himself, head
downwards, at the city gate. In one hand he held a written remonstrance
and in the other a knife. “And he says that if you heed him not he will
cut the rope and die at your feet,” concluded the messenger.
Liu Chang went to the gate, took the writing and read:—“Good medicine
is bitter in the mouth but good for the disease; faithful words offend
the ear but are good for the conduct. Of old the king of Chʻu listened
not to Chʻu Yüan, but attended the meeting at Wukuan and was captured.
Sir, you are thoughtlessly leaving your place to go to welcome Liu Pei,
but I fear there is a way out and none in. Could you but behead Chang
Sung in the market-place and have nothing to do with this league with
Liu Pei, it would be for the happiness of old and young, and assure the
safety of yourself.”
Anger rose in his breast as he read.
“Why do you insult me when I go to meet a kindly man? I feel as if I
were about to enjoy the delight of seeing a brother?”
At this Wang Lei gave a great cry, severed the rope and fell to the
ground battered and dead.
Head downwards at the city gate one hung,
A last remonstrance in his outstretched hand,
Resolved that, were his words rejected, he
Would not survive defeat. Sincere was he
Who, desperate, held to Liu Chang’s silken robe
Until his broken teeth released their grip.
Sincere indeed, but how can he compare
With stern Wang Lei, who went to awful death?
Liu Chang with a great company went out to welcome his clansman and
there followed many waggons laden with supplies and rich stuffs.
Liu Pei’s advanced guard had arrived at Shuchü. During the march the
people had brought presents, and Liu Pei had given an order to pay for
everything, under penalty of death for disobedience. Thus no one
suffered and the people came out in trusting crowds to watch the
soldiers marching by and welcome them in every way. Liu Pei soothed
them with very gracious words.
Then Fa Chêng secretly showed Pʻang Tʻung a letter from Chang Sung
advocating the assassination of Liu Chang near the place of welcome.
Pʻang Tʻung said, “Say nothing about this; after the two Lius have met
there may be opportunities but this is too early to talk. Any plot
would leak out.”
So nothing was said. Fouchʻêng, where the meeting was to take place, is
three hundred and sixty li from Chʻêngtu. Liu Chang arrived first and
sent messengers to welcome Liu Pei. The two armies camped on the bank
of the Fou River. Liu Pei went into the city to see the Prefect and
they met cordially as brothers should. Both shed a few tears, and by
and bye they began a heart-to-heart talk. Then followed a banquet and
after this each returned to his own camp.
The Prefect said, “How ridiculous have been proved the fears of Huang
Chʻüan and Wang Lei! They do not understand the force of family
affection. I see he is really a kindly and noble man, and with him as a
support I shall fear neither Tsʻao nor Chang. And I owe all this to
Chang Sung.”
To show his gratitude he took off the green silken robe he wore and
sent it as a gift to Chang Sung, together with five hundred liang of
gold.
However, some of his officers were not so content and a group of them
bade him beware.
“Do not rejoice too soon, O Master,” said they, “for Liu Pei is hard
enough within in spite of his mild exterior. You have not sounded him
yet and should be on your guard.”
“You are all too anxious;” said he, laughing, “my brother is no
double-dealer, I am sure.”
When Liu Pei had returned to his own tent, Pʻang Tʻung came in to ask
what impression he had of his host of that day.
“He seems a very honest man,” said Liu Pei.
“He is good enough, but some of his servants are discontented at this
turn of affairs and I would not guarantee there will be no murders. If
you took my advice you would have Liu Chang assassinated at the return
banquet. A hundred ruffians behind the arras, a signal from you, and
the deed would be accomplished. All that would be needed then would be
a rush on the capital. No sword need be drawn, no arrow fitted to the
string.”
“He is a brother of my house and has treated me with sincerity. I am a
new-comer and so far unknown in this land. Such a deed would be
abhorrent to all the world and these people would resent it. I will not
establish myself by such means.”
“The scheme is not mine; it originated in a private letter from Chang
Sung, who says it will have to be done some time.”
At this moment Fa Chêng came in and said, “This is not for ourselves;
it is the will of heaven.”
“Liu Chang and I are of the same house and I would shudder at harming
him.”
“Sir, you are wrong. If you act not as we propose, then Chang Lu will
take Shu in revenge for the death of his mother. What is there for you
at the end of your long march? Advance, and success is yours; retreat
and you have nothing. And delays are most dangerous. At any moment this
scheme may leak out and another will reap the profit. This is the day
when Heaven smiles on you. Act before Liu Chang suspects you; establish
yourself.”
So urged Fa Chêng and Pʻang Tʻung backed it.
Their lord, by argument, they tried
From rectitude to turn aside.
What Liu Pei hid in his heart will be explained in the next chapter.
END OF VOLUME I
NOTES
[1] 1750 B.C.
[2] 80 B.C.
[3] The grass in the meadow is an ingenious quip on Tung Cho’s surname;
as is the “ten days” on his distinguishing name.
[4] Modern Anhui.
[5] The Great Bear and Vega.
[6] The Milky Way.
[7] A star in Taurus.
[8] Groups of stars similar to the Great Bear Constellation.
[9] Points of the compass, including the centre.
[10] The country about modern Kiangsu and south Shantung.
[11] An editor here remarks in a note, “With a hundred ounces of silver
Liu An could get himself another wife, but I am afraid no one would
marry him. And what then? No woman could help reflecting that she might
have to serve as the ‘game’ course in a chance visitor’s dinner.”
[12] 199 A.D.
[13] Modern Kiangsi.
[14] A chang is ten feet.