San Kuo/Volume 1/Chapter 56
CHAPTER LVI.
A Banquet in the Bronze Bird Pavilion: K‘ung-ming Provokes Chou Yü a Third Time.
The ambuscade into which Chou Yü had fallen had been prepared by the orders of K‘ung-ming and was triple. However, Huang Kai and Han Tang contrived to get clear and found refuge in the ships, though with the loss of many men. When Chou Yü was in safety and looked about him he saw Yüan-tê and the Lady Sun quietly resting on a hill top. How could such a sight fail to put him in a rage? And with the access of rage his wound, not yet healed, burst open once again. He swooned and fell. They raised him and his ship set sail. He was allowed to depart undisturbed, while Yüan-tê proceeded to Chingchou, where were great rejoicings in honour of his recent marriage.
Meanwhile Chou Yü had gone to Ch‘aisang while Chiang Ch‘in and those with him bore the sad tidings to Sun Ch'üan. He was angry beyond words and his first thought was to send an army under Ch'êng P‘u to take Chingchou. Chou Yü also wrote from his sick bed urging his lord to take vengeance. But Chang Chao knew better and said it could not be done.
Said he, “Ts‘ao Ts‘ao has never forgotten his defeat, but he dares not attempt to avenge himself while the Sun family are friendly with Liu Pei. If in any moment of anger you two fail upon each other, Ts‘ao will certainly seize the opportunity and your position will be dangerous.”
Ku Yung supported him, saying, “Beyond all doubt Ts‘ao Ts‘ao has his spies here. As soon as he hears of any rift in the friendship between Sun and Liu he will desire to come to an understanding with the latter and Liu Pei, who fears your power, will accept his offer and take his side. Such an alliance will be a continual menace to the land south of the river. No; the plan for the occasion is to secure the friendship of Liu Pei by memorialising that he be made Governor of Chingchou. This will make Ts‘ao Ts‘ao afraid to send any army against the south-east. At the same time it will raise kindly feelings in the heart of Liu Pei and win his support. You will be able to find some one who will provoke a quarrel between Ts‘ao and Liu and set them at each other and that will be your opportunity. In this way you will succeed.”
“These are good words,” said Sun Ch‘üan, “but have I a messenger who can accomplish such a mission?”
“There is such a man, one whom Ts‘ao respects and loves.”
“Who is he?”
“What prevents you from employing Hua Hsin? He is ready to hand.”
Wherefore Hua Hsin was given letters and bidden go to the capital, whither he proceeded at once and sought to see Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. They told him that Ts‘ao and all his friends were at Yehchün, celebrating the completion of the Bronze Bird Pavilion. So thither he went.
Ts‘ao had indeed never forgotten his great defeat and nourished schemes to avenge it, but he feared the combination of his two chief enemies and that fear restrained him.
In the spring of the fifteenth year the great Pavilion was completed and Ts‘ao invited a vast assembly to celebrate its inauguration with banquets and rejoicings. The pleasaunce was on the bank of the Chang River. The Bronze Bird Terrace stood in the centre, flanked by two others named the Terrace of the Jade Dragon and the Terrace of the Golden Phoenix. Each tower was a hundred feet high and a bridge connected them. Gold and jade vied with each other in the many apartments.
At the opening ceremony Ts‘ao Ts‘ao wore a golden headdress inlaid with jewels and a robe of green brocaded silk, girded with a belt of jade. On his feet were pearl-encrusted shoes. So clad he took his seat as host, while his officers, civil and military, were drawn up below the terrace.
For the military officers was arranged an archery competition and one of his attendants brought forth a robe of red crimson Ssuch‘uan silk as a prize. This was suspended from one of the drooping branches of a willow tree, beneath which was the target. The distance was a hundred paces. The competitors were divided into two bands, those of his own family being dressed in red and the others in green. They all had carved bows and long arrows and were mounted. They stood holding in their steeds till the signal should be given for the games to begin. Each was to shoot one arrow and the robe was the guerdon for hitting the target in the red; misses were to pay a forfeit of drinking a cup of cold water.
As soon as the signal was given a red-robed youth rode quickly forth. He was Ts‘ao Hsiu. Swiftly he galloped to and fro thrice. Then he adjusted the notch of his arrow to the string, pulled the bow to its full and the arrow flew straight to the bullseye.
The clang of the gongs and the roll of the drums announced the feat, which astonished them all. And Ts‘ao, as he sat on the terrace, was delighted. “A very promising colt of my own,” said he to those about him, and he sent a messenger for the red robe that the winner might receive it from his own hands.
But suddenly from the green side rode out one who cried, “It were more fitting to let outsiders compete for the Minister’s silken robe; it is not right that members of the family monopolise the contest.”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao looked at the speaker, who was one Wên P‘ing. And some of the officers cried, “Let us see what his shooting is like!”
So Wên P‘ing fitted an arrow to the string and fired also from horseback while galloping. To the surprise of the onlookers he also made a bullseye, which was honoured by another salute from gongs and drums.
“Quickly bring me the robe,” cried Wên P‘ing.
But at once from the ranks of the red-robed another competitor dashed forward, shouting fiercely, “How can you win what has been already won? But let me show you how I can shoot an arrow that shall overcome both your shots.”
He drew his bow to the full and the arrow flew straight to the heart of the red. The surprised onlookers saw that this new competitor was Ts‘ao Hung, who now became also a claimant for the robe.
However, yet another archer came forth from the green robed ranks, playing with his bow and crying, “What is there amazing in your shooting, you three? See how I can shoot.”
This man was Chang Ho. He put his horse to the gallop, then turned his back and, shooting backwards, also hit the centre of the red.
Thus four arrows were now sticking in the bullseye and all agreed that it was marvellous archery.
“I think the robe should be mine,” said Chang Ho.
Before he could finish speaking a fifth competitor came out from the red robes and shouted, “You shot backwards; but that is commonplace enough. Look while I shoot better than you all.”
The speaker was Hsiahou Yüan. He galloped off to the very limit of the butts and then bending his body over backwards he sent his arrow right in among the other four.
As the gongs and drums broke out Yüan put aside his bow and rode up saying, “Is not that a better shot than any of its predecessors?”
Then came out another from the greens who cried, “Leave the robe there for me, Hsü Huang, to win.”
“What can you do that is better than my shot?” said Yüan.
“That you hit the bullseye is no great feat. You will see me win the silken robe after all.”
So speaking, Hsü Huang fitted an arrow to his bow. Then looking around he aimed at the willow twig from which the robe hung down and shot thereat so true that his arrow cut it through and the robe fluttered to the ground. At once Hsü Huang dashed along, picked up the robe and slipped it on. Then riding swiftly to the terrace he thanked the Minister. No one present could withhold unstinted praise and Hsü was turning to ride away when another green clad captain leaped out saying, “Where would you go with that robe? Quickly leave it for me!”
All eyes turned to this man who was Hsü Ch‘u. Hsü Huang cried, “The robe has already been adjudged to me; would you dare take it by force?”
Hsü Ch‘u made no reply but galloped up to snatch the robe. As his horse drew near Huang struck at his rival a blow with his bow. But Hsü Ch‘u seized the bow with one hand while with the other he simply lifted his opponent out of his seat. Wherefore Hsü Huang let go the bow and the next moment lay sprawling on the ground. Hsü Ch‘u slipped out of the saddle too and they began to pommel each other with their fists. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao sent one to separate them, but in the struggle the robe had been torn and soiled. He called the angry rivals before him and they came, one darting fierce looks of hate, the other grinding his teeth with rage.
“Never mind the robe; I see only your magnificent courage, said Ts‘ao smiling. “What does a robe more or less matter?”
Whereupon he called the captains to him one by one and to each he presented a robe of Ssuch‘uan silk. They thanked him for the generous gifts and he then commanded them to take their seats in due order. Then to the strains of a band of music, wherein each performer vied with all the others, the naval and military officers took their places. Civil officers of repute and captains of renown drank one to another, and hearty felicitations were exchanged.
Ts‘ao looked around to those about him saying, “Since the military officers have competed in mounted archery for our enjoyment and displayed their boldness and their skill, you, gentlemen scholars, stuffed full of learning as you are, can surely mount the terrace and present some complimentary odes to make the occasion a perfect success.”
We are most willing to obey your commands,” they replied, all bowing low.
At that time there was a band of four scholars named, Wang Lang, Chung Yao, Wang Ts‘an and Ch'ên Lin, and each of them presented a poem. Every poem sang the praises of Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s valuable services and great merits and said he was worthy to receive the highest trust of all.
When Ts‘ao Ts‘ao had read them he laughed saying, “You gentlemen are really too flattering. As a fact I am but an ignoramus who began life with a simple bachelor’s degree. And when the troubles began I builded me a little cottage in the country near Ch‘iaotung, where I could study in spring and summer and spend the rest of the year in hunting till the empire was once more tranquil and I could emerge and take office. To my surprise I was chosen for a small military office which changed my intentions and I determined to repress the rebellion and so make a name for myself. I thought that I might win an inscription on my tomb to the effect that it covered the remains of the Marquis Ts‘ao, who had restored order in the west. That would have been ample for a life’s work. I recall now how I destroyed Tung Cho and smote the Yellow Turbans; then I made away with Yüan Shu and broke the power of Lü Pu; next I exterminated Yüan Shao and at the death of Liu Piao I had subdued the whole empire. As a Minister of State I have attained the topmost pinnacle of honour and I have no more to hope for. Were it not for poor me, I know not how many there would be styling themselves Emperor and dubbing themselves princes. Certain there be who, seeing my great authority, think I have some ulterior aim. But they are quite wrong. I ever bear in mind what Confucius said of Chou Kung, that he was perfectly virtuous, and this saying is ever engraven on my mind. An I could I would do away with my armies and retire to my fief with my simple title of Marquis Wuping. Alas! I cannot. I am afraid to lay down my military powers lest I should come to harm. Should I be defeated, the State would totter and so I may not risk real misfortune for the sake of an empty reputation for kindness. There be some of you who do not know my heart.”
As he closed they all rose and bowed their heads saying, “None are your equals, O Minister, not even Duke Chou or the great Minister I Yin.”
A poem has been written referring to this:—
Had Duke Chou, the virtuous, died, while foul-mouthed slander was spreading her vile rumours;
Or Wang Mang, the treacherous, while he was noted for the deference paid to learned men;
None would have known their real characters.
After this oration Ts‘ao Ts‘ao drank many cups of wine in quick succession till he became very intoxicated. He bade his servants bring him pencil and inkstone that he might compose a poem. But as he was beginning to write they told him that the Marquis of Wu had sent Hua Hsin as an envoy and presented a memorial to appoint Liu Pei governor of Chingchou and that Sun Ch'üan’s sister was now Liu Pei’s wife, while on the river Han the greater part of the nine districts was under Liu Pei’s rule.
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao was seized with quaking fear at the news and threw the pen on the floor. Ch'êng Yü said to him, “O Minister, you have been among fighting men by myriads and in danger from stones and arrows many a time and never quailed. Now the news that Liu Pei has got possession of a small tract of country throws you into a panic. Why is it thus?”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao replied, “Liu Pei is a dragon among men. All his life hitherto he has never found his element, but now that he has obtained Chingchou it is as if the dragon, once captive, had escaped to the mighty deep. There is good reason for me to quake with fear.”
“Do you know the reason of the coming of Hua Hsin?” said Chiêng.
“No; I know not,” said the Minister.
“Liu Pei is Sun Ch‘uan’s one terror and he would attack him were it not for you, O Minister. He feels you would fall upon him while he was smiting his enemy. Wherefore he has taken this means of calming Liu Pei’s suspicions and fears and at the same time directing your enmity toward him and from himself.”
Ts‘ao Ts‘ao nodded; “Yes,” he said.
Ch'êng Yü continued, “Now this is my plan to set Sun and Liu at one another and give you the opportunity to destroy both; it can be done easily.”
“What is your plan?” asked Ts‘ao.
“The one prop of Wu is Chou Yü; remove it by memorialising that Chou be appointed Prefect of Nanchün. Then get Chiêng P‘u made Prefect of Chianghsia and cause the Emperor to retain this Hua Hsin in the capital to await some important post. Chou Yü will assuredly attack Liu Pei and that will be our chance. Is not the scheme good?”
“Friend Ch'êng, you are a man after my own heart.”
Wherefore he summoned the emissary from Wu and overwhelmed him with gifts. That day was the last of the feastings and merry-makings and Ts‘ao, with all the company, returned to the capital where he forthwith presented a memorial assigning Chou Yü and Ch'êng P‘u to the posts he wished, and Hua Hsin was retained at the capital with a post of dignity.
The messenger bearing the commissions for their new offices went down to Wu and both Chou Yü and Ch'êng P‘u accepted the appointments. Having taken over his command the former thought all the more of the revenge he contemplated and, to Ming matters to a head, he wrote to Sun Ch'üan asking him to send Lu Su and renew the demand for the rendition of Chingchou.
Wherefore Lu Su was summoned and his master said to him, “You are the guarantor in the loan of Chingchou to Liu Pei. He still delays to return it and how long am I to wait?”
“The writing said plainly that the rendition would follow the occupation of Ssuch‘uan.”
Sun Ch'üan shouted back, “Yes it said so. But so far they have not moved a soldier to the attack. I will not wait till old age has come to us all.”
“I will go and enquire?” said Lu Su.
So he went down into a ship and sailed to Chingchou.
Meanwhile Liu Pei and K‘ung-ming were at Chingchou gathering in supplies from all sides, drilling their men and training their armies. From all quarters men of learning flocked to their side. In the midst of this they heard of Lu Su’s coming and Liu Pei asked K‘ung-ming what he thought of it.
K‘ung-ming replied, “Just lately Sun Ch'üan concerned himself with getting you appointed Governor of Chingchou; that was calculated to inspire Ts‘ao Ts‘ao with fear. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao obtained for Chou Yü the Prefectship of Nanchün; that was designed to stir up strife between our two houses and set us fighting so that he might accomplish his own ends. This visit of Lu Su means that Chou Yü, having taken over his new governorship, wishes to force us out of this place.”
“Then how shall we reply?”
“If he introduce the subject you will at once set up loud lamentations. When the sound of lamentation is at its height I will appear and talk over your visitor.”
Thus they planned and Lu Su was duly received with all honour. When the salutations were over and host and guest were about to be seated, Lu Su said, “Sir, now that you are the husband of a daughter of Wu you have become my lord, and I dare not sit in your presence.”
Liu Pei laughed. “You are an old friend,” said he. “Why this excessive humility?”
So Lu Su took his seat. And when tea had been served the guest said, “I have come at the order of my master to discuss the subject of Chingchou. You, O Imperial Uncle, have had the use of the place for a long time. Now that your two houses are allied by marriage, there should be the most friendly relations between you and you should hand it back to my master.”
At this Yüan-tê covered his face and began to cry.
“What is the matter?” asked the guest.
Yüan-tê only wept the more bitterly.
Then K‘ung-ming came in from behind a screen saying, “I have been listening. Do you know why my lord weeps so bitterly.”
“Really I know not.”
“But it is easy to see. When my lord got the temporary occupation of Chingchou he gave the promise to return it when he had got the west country. But reflect. Liu Chang of Ichou is my lord’s younger brother and both of them are blood relations of the ruling family. If my lord were to move an army to capture another city he fears the blame of the ignorant. And if he yield this place before he has another, where could he rest? Yet, while he retains this place it seems to shame you. The thing is hard on both sides and that is why he weeps so bitterly.”
The close of K‘ung-ming’s speech seemed to move Yüan-tê to greater grief for he beat his breast and stamped his feet and wept yet more bitterly.
Lu Su attempted to console him saying, “Be not so distressed, O Uncle; let us hear what K‘ung-ming can propose.”
“I would beg you to return to your master and tell him all. Tell him of this great trouble and entreat him to let us stay here a little longer.”
“But suppose he refuse; what then?” said Lu Su.
“How can he refuse since he is related by marriage to my master?” said Kʻung-ming. “I shall expect to hear glad tidings through you. ”
Lu Su was really the first of generous men and seeing Yüan-tê in such distress he could do no other than consent and say he would do so. Yüan-tê and K‘ung-ming both thanked him most cordially and after a banquet the emissary went down into his ship to return. On the way he called in to see Chou Yü and told him. But Chou stamped his foot with rage and said, “My friend, you have been fooled again. Long ago when Liu Pei was dependent on Liu Piao he always cherished the intention to supplant him; think you that he really pities Liu Chang of Shu? This sort of evasive policy will certainly cause you much trouble. However, I have a scheme which I think K‘ung-ming will not be able to get the better of. Only you will have to make another journey.”
“I should be pleased to hear your fine scheme,” said Lu Su.
“Do not go to see our master. Return to Chingchou and say to Liu Pei that since his family and the Suns are related by marriage they really form but one house, and since he has qualms about attacking the west we will do it for him. We will march an army under this pretext, but really go to Chingchou, and we shall take him unprepared. The road to the west runs through his city and we will call upon him for supplies. He will come out to thank the army and we will assassinate him whereby we shall revenge ourselves and at the same time remove a source of future evil.”
This seemed an excellent plan to Lu Su and he returned at once to Chingchou. Before receiving him Yüan-tê talked over the matter with his adviser.
Said K‘ung-ming, “He has not seen the Marquis, he has called in at Ch‘aisang and he and Chou Yü have decided upon some scheme, which he is to talk you into accepting. However, let him talk; only watch me and when I nod my head then agree to whatever he may propose.”
Iu Su was then admitted and said, “The Marquis of Wu praises the noble virtue of the Imperial Uncle and after consultation with his officers he has determined to take the western kingdom on his behalf and, that done, Chingchou can be exchanged for it without further delay. However, when the army marches through it will be expected of you to contribute some necessary supplies.”
K‘ung-ming here nodded his head rapidly, at the same time saying, “We could hardly have hoped for such kindness,” while Yüan-tê saluted with joined hands and said, “This is due to your friendly efforts on our behalf.”
“When the brave army arrives we shall certainly come out to meet it and entertain the soldiers,” said K‘ung-ming.
Lu Su felt great satisfaction and was quite happy at his success; he took his leave and went homeward. But Yüan-tê as yet did not understand.
“What is their intention?” said he.
His adviser smiled. “Chou Yü's end is very near. The ruse he is now trying would not take in a boy.”
“Why?”
“This is the ruse known as 'borrow a road to exterminate Kuo.' Under the pretence of taking the west they intend to capture this place, and when you go out to compliment the army you will be seized and they will dash into the city which they hope to find unprepared.”
“And what are we to do?”
“Have no anxiety; all we have to do is to prepare a hidden bow to get the fierce tiger; to spread the enticing bait to hook the great leviathan. Wait till Chou Yü comes; if he is not killed he will be nine-tenths a corpse. We will call in Chao Yün for orders and give him secret instructions and I will dispose the others.”
And Yüan-tê was glad.
Let Chou Yü lay what plans he will,
K‘ung-ming anticipates his skill;
That river land fair bait did look,
But he forgot the hidden hook.
Lu Su hastened back to Chou Yü to tell him that all was going as he desired and Yüan-tê would come out to welcome the army. And Chou Yü laughed with glee, saying, “At last! Now they will fall into my trap.”
He bade Lu Su prepare a petition for the information of the Marquis and he ordered Ch'êng P‘u to bring up reinforcements. He himself had nearly recovered from the arrow wound and felt well. He made his dispositions for the advance, telling off the leaders of the van and wings. The army numbered five legions and Chou Yü marched with the second division. While voyaging in his ship he was always smiling to think how he was to have K‘ung-ming at last.
At Hsiak‘ou he enquired if there was any one to welcome him. They told him the Imperial Uncle had sent Mi Chu to greet him and he was called.
“What of the preparations for the army?” asked Chou Yü as soon as Mi Chu came.
“My master has seen to that; all is prepared,” said Mi.
“Where is the Imperial Uncle?” asked Chou.
“He is at Chingchou, waiting outside the walls to offer you the cup of greeting.”
“This expedition is on your account,” said Chou Yü. “When one undertakes so long a march and such a task the rewards for the army must be very substantial.”
Having got this idea of what Chou Yü expected, Mi Chu returned to his own city, while the battle ships in close order sailed up the river and took their places along the bank. As they went on the most perfect tranquillity seemed to reign on all sides. Not a ship was visible anywhere, and no one hindered. Chou Yü pressed forward till he came quite near Chingchou and still the wide river lay calm. But the spies who came back reported two white flags flying on the city walls.
Still not a man was seen and Chou Yü began to feel suspicious. He had his ship navigated in shore and he himself landed on the bank, where he mounted a horse and, with a small army of veterans under three captains, travelled along the land road.
By and bye he came to the city wall. There was no sign of life. Reining in his steed he bade them challenge the gate. Then some one from the wall asked who was there. The men of Wu replied that it was their General in person. Immediately was heard the thud of a club and the wall became alive with men all armed. And from the tower came out Chao Yün who said, “Why are you here, General?”
“I am going to take the west for you;” replied Chou Yü, “do you not know?”
“K‘ung-ming knows that you want to try the ruse of 'borrowing a road to destroy Kuo.' And so he stationed me here. And my master bade me say that he and the ruler of the west country are both members of the reigning family so that he could not think of such baseness as attacking Shu. If you people of Wu do so, he will be forced to go away into the mountains and become a recluse. He could not bear to lose the confidence of mankind.”
At this Chou Yü turned his horse as if to return. Just then his scouts came up to say that armed bands were moving toward him from all sides, and Kuan Yü and Chang Fei led two of them. Their number was unknown but the sound of their tramping shook the heavens. They said they wanted to capture Chou Yü.
At these tidings Chou Yü's excitement became so intense that he fell to the ground with a great cry, and the old wound re-opened.
The game was now too deep; in vain he sought
A countermove; his efforts came to nought.
Later chapters will show what was Chou Yü's fate.