San Kuo/Volume 2/Chapter 97

It was in the autumn of the sixth year that the Wei army was defeated, with very great loss, by Lu Hsün of Wu. Ts‘ao Hsiu’s mortification brought on an illness from which he died in Loyang. By command of the king he received most honourable burial.

Then Ssǔma I brought the army home again. The other officers went to welcome him and asked why he hurried home after a defeat, which affected him also as Master of the Forces. He replied that he came for reasons of strategy, because of K‘ung-ming’s probable intentions. They listened and smiled; for they thought he was afraid.

Letters from Wu came to Shu proposing a joint attack on Wei and detailing their recent victory. In these letters two feelings were gratified—that of telling the story of their own grandeur and prowess, and furthering the design of a treaty of peace. The king was pleased and sent the letters to K‘ungming in Hanchung.

At that time the army was in excellent state, the men hardy, the horses strong. There were plentiful supplies of all kinds. K‘ung-ming was just going to propose a new war.

On receipt of the letter he made a great banquet to discuss an expedition. A severe gale came on from the north-east and brought down a fir tree in front of the general’s shelter. It was an inauspicious omen to all the officers, and they were troubled. K‘ung-ming cast lots to know what portent was intended, and announced the loss of a great leader. They hardly believed him. But before the banquet ended two sons of Chao Yün came and wished to see K‘ung-ming.

K‘ung-ming, deeply affected, threw aside his wine cup and cried, “That is it; Chao Yün is gone.”

When the two young men came in they prostrated themselves and wept; their father had died the night before at the third watch. K‘ung-ming staggered and burst into lamentation.

“My friend is gone; the country has lost its great beam and I my right arm.”

Those about him joined in, wiping away their tears. K‘ung-ming bade the two young men go in person to Ch'êngtu to bear the sad tidings to the king. And the king also wept.

​“Tzǔ-lung was my saviour and friend; he saved my life when I was a child in the time of great confusion,” cried the king.

An edict was issued creating the late general “Marquis of Shun-p‘ing” and permitting burial on the east of Chinp‘ing Hill. A temple was ordered to his memory and sacrifices.

The king showed his affectionate gratitude to the late leader, not only in according him most honourable burial, but in kindness to his sons, the elder, T‘ung, being made a “Fiercely-energetic” Chunglong General and the younger Kuang Ya-mên General. He also set guards over the tomb.

When the two sons had left, the ministers reported to the king that the dispositions of the army were complete, and the leader proposed to march against Wei without delay. Talking this over with one and another, the king found the courtiers much inclined to a cautious policy and somewhat fearful. And the doubts entered into the king’s mind so that he could not decide. Then came a memorial from K‘ung-ming, and the messenger, Yang I, was called into the presence and gave it to the king. He spread it on the imperial table and read: “The late Emperor was anxious lest the rebels should set up a rival empire and the legitimate Ruler’s domain be restricted. Wherefore he laid upon me, thy minister, to destroy them. Measuring my powers by his perspicacity he knew that I should attack and oppose my talents, inadequate as they might be, to their strength, for, if I did not, the royal domain would be destroyed. It was a question whether to await destruction without effort, or to attack? Wherefore he assigned me the task confidently. Thenceforward this task occupied all my thoughts.

“Considering that the south should be made secure before the north could be attacked, I braved the heat of summer and plunged deep into the wilds. Sparing not myself nor regarding privation, urged by the one consideration, that the royal domain should not be confined to the capital of Shu, I faced dangers in obedience to the late Emperor’s behest. But there are critics who may say that I failed. Now the rebels have been weakened in the west and have become involved in the east. The rule of war is to take advantage of the enemy’s weakness, and so now is the time to attack. I shall discuss the various circumstances in order.

​“The enlightenment of the Founder of the Hans rivalled the glory of the sun and moon; his counsellors were profound as the ocean abyss. Nevertheless, he trod a hazardous path and suffered losses, only attaining repose after passing through great dangers. Your Majesty does not reach his level, nor do your counsellors equal Chang Liang and Ch'ên P‘ing, yet, while they desire victory, they would sit idle, waiting till the empire should become settled. This attitude is beyond my comprehension.

“Liu Yu and Wang Lang each occupied a district. They passed their time in talking of tranquillity and discussing plans, quoting the sayings of the sages till they were filled with doubts and obsessed with difficulties. So this year was not the time to fight, nor next year the season to punish, and, thus talking, it came about that Sun Ts'ê grew powerful and possessed himself of all Chiangtung. This sort of behaviour I cannot understand.

“In craft Ts‘ao Ts‘ao surpassed all men. He could wield armies like the great strategists of old, Sun Wu and Wu Ch‘i. Yet he was hemmed in in Nanyang, was in danger at Wuch‘ao, was in difficulties at Ch‘ilien, was hard pressed in Liyang, was nearly defeated at Peishan and nearly killed at Ch‘angkuan. Yet, after all these experiences, there was a temporary and artificial state of equilibrium. How much less can I, a man of feeble powers, bring about a decision without running risks? I fail to understand.

“Ts‘ao Ts‘ao failed in five attacks on Changpa, and four times crossed the Ch‘aohu without success. He employed Li Fu, who betrayed him, and put his trust in Hsiahou, who was defeated and died. His late Majesty always regarded Ts‘ao Ts‘ao as an able man, and yet he made such mistakes. How then can I, in my worn-out condition, necessarily conquer? I do not understand why.

“Only one year has elapsed since I went into Hanchung, yet we have lost Chao Yün, Yang Chün, Ma Yü, Yen Chih, Ting Li, Pai Shou, Liu Ho, Têng T‘ung, and others, and leaders of rank and captains of stations, to the number of near four score, all men unsurpassed in dash and valour, and more than a thousand of the irregular horse and trained cavalry of the Sou (aborigines) of Ts‘ung and the Tanguts of Tsinghai (Gobi Desert), whose martial spirit we have fostered these ten years all about us, and not only in one district. If we delay much longer, two-thirds of this will have dissipated, and how then shall we meet the situation? I do not understand delay.

“The people are poor and the army exhausted indeed, and confusion does not cease. If confusion does not cease, then, whether we go on or stand still the drain is the same. Yet it seems that attack should not be made yet! Is it that the rebels ​are to be allowed to obtain a permanent hold on some province? I do not understand the arguments.

“A stable condition of affairs is indeed difficult to obtain. Once, when the late Emperor was defeated in Ch‘u, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao patted himself on the back and said that the empire was settled. Yet, after that, the late Emperor obtained the support of Wu and Yüeh on the east, took Pa and Shu on the west and undertook an expedition to the north, wherein Hsiahou lost his life. So Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s calculations proved erroneous, and the affairs of Han seemed about to prosper. But, still later, Wu proved false to pledges, our Kuan was defeated, we sustained a check at Tzukuei—and Ts‘ao P‘ei assumed the imperial style. Such events prove the difficulty of forecast. I shall strive on to the end, but the final result, whether success or failure, whether gain or loss, is beyond my powers to foresee.”

The king was convinced, and by edict directed K‘ung-ming to start on the expedition. He marched out with thirty legions of well-trained men, Wei Yen leading the first division, and made all haste to Ch'ênts‘ang.

The news soon reached Loyang, and Ssŭma I informed the King of Wei, who called his council. Then Ts‘ao Chên stepped forth and said, “I failed to hold Shênsi, and my disgrace is terrible to bear. But now I beg to be given another command that I may capture Chuko Liang. Lately I have found a stalwart soldier for a leader, a man who wields a sixty catty sword, rides a swift and savage steed, bends the two hundred catty bow and carries hidden about him when he goes into battle three meteor maces with which his aim is certain. So valorous is he that none dare stand against him. He comes from Shênsi and is named Wang Shuang. I would recommend him for my leader of the van.”

Ts‘ao Jui approved at once and summoned this marvel to the hall. There came a tall man with a dusky complexion, hazel eyes, strong as a bear in the hips and with a back supple as a tiger’s.

“No need to fear anything with such a man,” said Ts‘ao Jui, laughing.

He gave the new hero rich presents, a silken robe and golden breastplate, and gave him the title “Tiger-majesty” General. And he became leader of the van of the new army.

Ts‘ao Chên took leave of his master and left the court. He collected his fifteen legions of veterans and, in consultation with Kuo Huai and Chang Ho, decided upon the districts and the points to be guarded.

The first companies of the army of Shu sent out their scouts as far as Ch'ênts‘ang. They came back and reported that a rampart had been built and behind it was a captain named Hao Chao in command. The rampart was very strong and ​was further defended by “deerhorns.” And they thought it would be well to give up all thought of taking it and go out to Ch‘ishan by T‘aipailing, where was a practicable, though winding, road.

But K‘ung-ming said, “Due north of Ch'ênts‘ang is Chieht‘ing, so that I must get this city in order to advance.”

Wei Yen was sent to surround the city and take it. He went, but days passed without success. Therefore he returned and told his chief the place was impregnable. In his anger, K‘ung-ming was going to put his general to death, but a certain Yin Hsiang, who said he was a close friend of Hao’s, suddenly asked to be allowed to try the effect of persuasion.

“How do you think you will persuade him?” said K‘ungming. “What will you say?”

“We are both from Shensi and pledged friends from boyhood. If I can get to see him I will so lay matters before him that he must surrender.”

He got permission to try, and rode quickly to the wall. Then he called out, “Friend Hao, your old chum Yin has come to see you.”

A sentry on the wall told Hao Chao, who bade them let the visitor enter and bring him up on the wall.

“Friend, why have you come?” asked Hao.

“I am in the service of Shu, serving under K‘ung-ming as an assistant in the tactical department. I am treated exceedingly well, and my chief has sent me to say something to you.”

Hao was rather annoyed, and said, “Chuko is our enemy. I serve Wei while you serve Shu. Each serves his own lord. We were brothers once, but now we are enemies; so do not say any more.”

And the visitor was requested to take his leave. He tried to reopen the conversation, but his friend left him and went up on the tower. The Wei soldiers hurried him on to his horse and led him to the gate. As he passed out he looked up and saw his friend leaning on the guard rail. He pulled up his horse, pointed with his whip at Hao, and said, “My friend and worthy brother, why has your friendship become so thin?”

“Brother, you know the laws of Wei,” replied Hao. “I have accepted their bounty, and if that leads to death, so be it. Say no more, but return quickly to your master and tell him to come and attack. I am not afraid.”

So the abashed Yin had to return and report failure.

“He would not let me begin to explain,” said he.

“Try again,” said K‘ung-ming. “Go and really talk to him.”

So the go-between soon found himself once more at the foot of the wall. Hao presently appeared on the tower, and Yin shouted to him, “My worthy brother, please listen to my words ​while I explain clearly. Here you are holding one single city; how can you think of opposing ten legions? If you do not yield, you will be sorry when it is too late. Instead of serving the great Hans, you are serving a depraved country called Wei. Why do you not recognise the decree of Heaven? Why do you not distinguish between the pure and the foul? Think over it.”

Then Hao began to get really angry. He fitted an arrow to his bow and he called out, “Go! or I will shoot. I meant what I said at first, and I will say no more.”

Again Yin returned and reported failure to K‘ung-ming.

“The fool is very ill-mannered,” said K‘ung-ming. “Does he think he can beguile me into sparing the city?”

He called up some of the local people and asked about the forces in the city. They told him about three companies.

“I do not think such a small place can beat me,” said K‘ungming. “Attack quickly before any reinforcements can arrive.”

Thereupon the assailants brought up scaling ladders, upon the platforms of which a half score men could stand. These were surrounded by planks as protection. The other soldiers had short ladders and ropes, and, at the beat of the drum, they attempted to scale the walls.

But when Hao saw the ladders being brought up he made his men shoot fire-arrows at them. K‘ung-ming did not expect this. He knew the city was not well prepared for defence, and he had had the great ladders brought up and bade the soldiers take the wall with a rush. He was greatly chagrined when the fire arrows set his ladders on fire and so many of his men were burned. And as the arrows and stones rained down from the wall, the men of Shu were forced to retire.

K‘ung-ming angrily said, “So you burn my ladders; then I will use battering rams” ("battering carts").

So the rams were brought and placed against the walls and again the signal given for assault. But the defenders brought up great stones suspended by ropes, which they swung down at the battering rams and so broke them to pieces. Next the besiegers set to work to bring up earth and fill the moat, and three companies were set to excavating a tunnel under the ramparts. But Hao Chao cut a counter-trench within the city and turned that device.

So the struggle went on for near a month, and still the city was not taken. K‘ung-ming was very depressed.

That was not all. The scouts reported the coming of a relief force, the flags of which bore the name of Wang Shuang. Some one had to try to turn him back, and Wei Yen offered himself.

“No,” said K‘ung-ming; “you are too valuable as leader of the van.”

​Hsieh Hsiung offered his services; they were accepted, and he was given three companies. After he had gone, K‘ungming decided to send a second force, and for command of this one Kung Ch‘i volunteered and was accepted. He also had three companies. Then K‘ung-ming feared lest there would be a sortie from the city to aid the relief force just arriving, so he led off the army twenty li and made a camp.

The first body sent against Wang Shuang had no success; its leader fell almost immediately under Wang’s great sword. The men fled and Wang pursued, and so came upon Kung, who had come to support his colleague. He met a similar fate, being slain in the third bout.

When the defeated parties returned, K‘ung-ming was anxious and called up three leaders to go out to check this Wang, They went and drew up in formal array, and then Chang I rode to the front. Wang Shuang rode to meet him, and they two fought several bouts. Then Wang Shuang ran away and Chang I followed. His colleague, Wang P‘ing, suspected this flight was but a ruse, so he called to Chang to stop. Wang Shuang then turned and hurled one of his meteor hammers, which hit Chang I in the back, so that he fell forward and lay over the saddle. Wang Shuang rode on to follow up this advantage, but the two colleagues of Chang I interfered and checked him. Wang Shuang’s whole force then came on and slew many of the men of Shu.

Chang I was hurt internally and vomited blood at times. He came back and told K‘ung-ming that Wang Shuang was very terrible and no one could stand up to him. Beside there was a strong camp at the city with double walls and a deep moat.

Having lost two captains, and a third being wounded, K‘ungming called up Chiang Wei and said, “We are stopped this way; can you suggest another road?”

“Yes,” said Chiang, “The place is too well protected and, with this Wang as defender, cannot be taken. I would propose to move away to some suitable place and make a strong camp. Then try to hold the roads so that the attack on Chieht‘ing may be prevented. Then if you will send a strong force against Ch‘ishan I can do something which will give us success.”

K‘ung-ming agreed. He sent Wang P‘ing and Li K‘uei to hold the side road to Chieht‘ing, and Wei Yen was sent to guard the way from Ch'ênts‘ang. And then the army marched out of Hsieh Valley by a small road and made for Ch‘ishan.

Now Ts‘ao Chên still remembered bitterly that in the last campaign Ssŭma I had filched from him the credit he hoped to obtain. So when he reached Lok‘ou he detached Kuo Huai and Sun Li and sent them to hold positions east and west. Then he had heard that Ch'ênts‘ang was threatened, so had sent Wang Shuang to its relief, and now to his joy he heard ​of his henchman’s success. He placed Fei Yao in command of the van and stationed other captains at strategic and commanding points.

Then they caught a spy. He was taken into the presence of the general to be questioned. The man knelt down and said, “I am not really a spy in the bad sense. I was bringing a secret communication for you, Sir, but I was captured by one of the parties in ambush. Pray send away your attendants.”

The man’s bonds were loosed and the tent cleared. The captive said, “I am a confidant of Chiang Wei, who has entrusted me with a secret letter.”

“Where is the letter?”

The man took it from among his garments and presented it to Ts‘ao Chên, who read:—“I, Chiang Wei, your guilty captain, make a hundred prostrations to the great leader Ts‘ao, now in the field. I have never forgotten that I was in the employ of Wei and disgraced myself; having enjoyed favours, I never repaid them. Lately I have been an unhappy victim of Chuko Liang’s wiles and so fell into the depths. But I never forgot my old allegiance; how could I forget? Now happily the army of Shu has gone west, and Chuko Liang trusts me. I rely upon your leading an army this way. If resistance be met, then you may simulate defeat and retire, but I shall be behind and will make a blaze as signal. Then I shall set fire to their stores, whereupon you will face about and attack. Chuko Liang ought to fall into your hands. If it be that I cannot render service and repay my debt to the state, then punish me for my former crime.

“If this should be deemed worthy of your attention, then without delay communicate your commands.”

The letter pleased Ts‘ao Chên, and he said, “This is heavensent help to aid me in an achievement.”

He rewarded the man and bade him return to say that it was accepted. Then he called Fei Yao to his councils and said, “I have just had a secret letter from Chiang Wei telling me to act in a certain fashion.”

But Fei Yao replied, “Chuko Liang is very crafty and Chiang Wei is very knowing. If by chance Chuko has planned all this and sent this man we may fall into a snare.”

“But Chiang Wei is really a man of Wei; he was forced into surrender. Why are you suspicious?”

“My advice is not to go, but to remain here on guard. Let me go to meet this man, and any service I can accomplish will redound to your credit. And if there be any craft I can meet it for you.”

Ts‘ao Chên approved this and bade Fei Yao take five legions by way of Hsieh Valley. He told him to halt after the second or third stage and send out scouts. This was done, and the ​scouts reported that the Shu army was coming through the valley. Fei Yao at once advanced, but before the men of Shu got into contact with him they retired. Fei Yao pursued. Then the men of Shu came on again. Just as Fei Yao was forming up for battle the Shu army retreated again. And these manœuvres were repeated thrice, and a day and a night passed without any repose for the Wei army.

At length rest was imperative, and they were on the point of entrenching themselves to prepare food when a great hubbub arose all around, and with beating of drums and blaring of trumpets the whole country was filled with the men of Shu. Suddenly there was a stir near by the great standard, and out came a small four-wheeled chariot in which sat K‘ungming. He bade a herald call the leader of the Wei army to a parley.

Fei Yao rode out and, seeing K‘ung-ming, he secretly rejoiced. Turning to those about him, he bade them retire if the men of Shu came on and look out for a signal. If they saw a blaze they were to turn and attack, for they would be reinforced.

Then he rode to the front and shouted, “You rebel leader in front there; how dare you come here again?”

K‘ung-ming replied, “Go and call Ts‘ao Chên to a parley.”

“My chief, Ts‘ao Chên, is of the royal stock; think you that he will come to parley with rebels?”

K‘ung-ming angrily waved his fan, and there came forth Ma Tai and Chang I and their men with a rush. The Wei army retired. But ere they had gone far they saw a blaze in the rear of the advancing host of Shu and heard a great shouting. Fei Yao could only conclude that this was the signal he was looking for, and so he faced about to attack.

But the enemy also turned about and retired. Fei Yao led the pursuit, sword in hand, hastening to the point whence the shouting came. Nearing the signal fire, the drums beat louder than ever, and then out came two armies, one under Kuan Hsing and the other under Chang Pao, while arrows and stones rained from the hill-tops. The Wei men could not stand it and knew not only they were beaten, but beaten by a ruse. Fei Yao tried to withdraw his men into the shelter of the valley to rest, but the enemy pressed on him, and the army of Wei fell into confusion. Pressing upon each other, many fell into the streams and were drowned.

Fei Yao could do nothing but flee for his life. Just as he was passing by a steep hill there appeared a cohort, and the leader was Chiang Wei. Fei Yao began to upbraid him for his treachery and craftiness.

Wei replied, “You are the wrong victim; we meant to capture Ts‘ao Chên not you. You would do well to yield.”

​But Fei only galloped away toward a ravine. Suddenly the ravine filled with flame. Then he lost all hope. The pursuers were close behind, so he put an end to his own life.

Of the men of Wei many surrendered. The Shu army pressed home their advantage and, hastening forward, reached Ch‘ishan and made a camp. There the army was mustered and put in order.

Chiang Wei received a reward, but he was chagrined that Ts‘ao Chên had not been taken.

“My regret is that I did not slay Ts‘ao Chên,” said he.

“Indeed, yes,” replied K‘ung-ming. “It is a pity that a great scheme should have had so poor a result.”

Ts‘ao Chên was very sad when he heard of the loss of his captain. He consulted Kuo Huai as to a new plan to drive back the enemy.

Meanwhile, flying messengers had gone to the capital with news of K‘ung-ming’s arrival at Ch‘ishan and the defeat. Ts‘ao Jui called Ssŭma I to ask for a plan to meet these new conditions.

“I have a scheme all ready, not only to turn back K‘ungming, but to do so without any exertion on our part. They will retire of their own will.”

The strategy will appear in the next chapter.