The prefect fell silent. However, they did not know that they had been overheard by Lady Cai. She always had a sneaking suspicion of Liu Bei. So wherever her husband talked to Liu Bei she would come and listen secretly to their conversation. At that very moment she was standing behind the screen and listening with great resentment against Liu Bei for his words.

  Liu Bei felt that he had made a mistake to speak so bluntly. Making an excuse, he rose and went to the toilet, where he noticed that he was getting heavy and stiff from lack of exercise and he, too, shed tears. When he returned and sat down his host found there were traces of weeping on his face. Surprised, he asked Liu Bei about the cause of his sorrow.

  “In the past I was always in the saddle and I was slender and lithe. Now it has been so long since I rode that I’m getting stout and flabby. My days and months are slipping by, wasted, and in no time old age will come upon me—and yet I haven’t accomplished anything. So I’m sad.”

  The prefect tried to comfort him. “I was told that when you were in the capital you and Cao Cao had discussed heroes while drinking wine and eating green plums. To every name you mentioned as having the merit of a hero, he wouldn’t give consent. Finally he said you and he were the only two men of real worth in the whole country. If Cao Cao, with all his power, didn’t dare to place himself before you, I don’t think you have to grieve about having accomplishing nothing.”

  Partly due to this flattering speech and partly due to too much wine, Liu Bei forgot his usual prudence and said rather boastfully, “If only I had a starting base I wouldn’t really have to worry about all the mediocre men of the world!”

  His host became silent and Liu Bei, realizing that he had blundered in speech, pretended to be drunk and rose to leave for his lodging at the guesthouse.

  Though Liu Biao kept silent when he heard Liu Bei’s words he felt rather hurt in his heart. After his departure, the prefect retired into the inner quarters, where he met his wife.

  Lady Cai said, “Just now I happened to be behind the screen and so heard what Liu Bei said to you. He was so arrogant. It clearly reveals his intention to take your district, if he can. He’ll harm you in the future unless you remove him now.”

  Her husband made no reply but only shook his head. Then Lady Cai secretly took counsel with her brother Cai Mao who said, “Let me go to the guesthouse and slay him tonight. We can report what we’ve done later.”

  His sister consented and the brother went out to assemble the army for the night raid.

  Now Liu Bei sat in his lodging with candles lit till about the third watch, when he prepared to retire to bed. Just then there was a knock on his door and in came Yi Ji, who had heard of the plot against him and had come in the dark to warn him. He related to Liu Bei the details of the plot and urged him to escape at once.

  “I haven’t taken leave of my host. How can I slip away?” said Liu Bei.

  “If you go to bid him farewell you will fall a victim to Cai Mao,” said Yi Ji.

  So with a hasty word of thanks to his friend, Liu Bei called up his escort and they all rode back to Xinye without waiting for daylight. By the time Cai Mao arrived with the soldiers, his intended victim was far away.

  The failure of the plot annoyed Cai Mao very much but he took the occasion to scribble some lines of verse on the wall. Then he went to see Liu Biao and said, “Liu Bei does have treacherous intentions. He has written a malicious poem on the wall and left without bidding you farewell.”

  Liu Biao did not believe him so he went to the guesthouse to find out. True enough, there on the wall he read the following four lines:

  Too long, far too long I have been trapped here,

  Gazing idly at the rivers and hills.

  A dragon can never be kept in a pond,

  He should ride on the thunder to heaven and beyond.

  Greatly angered by what he read, Liu Biao drew his sword and swore to slay the writer. But before he had gone many paces his anger died down as he suddenly remembered that during all the time they had been together he had never known Liu Bei to write verses. He thought to himself, “This must be the work of someone who wishes to sow discord between us.” So thinking, he turned back and with the point of his sword scraped away the poem. Throwing away his sword, he mounted to leave.

  “The army is ready,” said Cai Mao. “Let us go and capture him.”

  “There is no hurry,” replied Liu Biao.

  Cai Mao saw his brother-in-law’s hesitation and again sought his sister for secret counsel. He said to her, “We can call a great gathering in Xiangyang and do something there.”

  The next day he went to the prefect: “We have good harvests these past few years. I think we should assemble all the officials in Xiangyang to celebrate the Harvest Festival. I pray you, sir, will attend the celebration. It will be an encouragement to the people.”

  “I have been suffering from my old ailment again—I certainly cannot go,” said the prefect. “Let my two sons represent me and receive the guests.”

  “They are too young,” replied Cai Mao, “and may make mistakes in etiquette.”

  “Then go to Xinye and ask Liu Bei to go and receive the guests,” said the prefect.

  Nothing could have pleased Cai Mao more, for this would bring Liu Bei within reach of his plot. Without loss of time he sent a messenger to invite Liu Bei over to preside at the festival.

  Now Liu Bei had made his way home to Xinye. He knew that the present trouble was caused by his slip in speech, so he did not mention it to the others. Then the messenger came with the prefect’s request, asking him to preside at the festival in Xiangyang.

  Sun Qian said, “I saw you look preoccupied when you hurried back yesterday and I thought something must have happened in Jingzhou. Now suddenly comes this invitation. You should consider well before you accept it.”

  Then Liu Bei told them the whole story.

  Guan Yu said, “All this may be your own conjecture, brother. You thought you had offended the prefect by your speech but he did not say anything that showed displeasure. You mustn’t pay attention to the babble of outsiders. Xiangyang is quite near and if you don’t go the prefect will begin to suspect something really is wrong.”

  “You’re right, Yun-chang,” said Liu Bei.

  Zhang Fei objected, “Banquets are no good and gatherings are no better. It’s best not to go.”

  “Let me take three hundred horse and foot soldiers to accompany you,” said Zhao Yun. “That will guarantee your safety.”

  “Very good,” said Liu Bei.

  They soon set out for the gathering place. When they reached the city boundary Cai Mao was there to welcome them most courteously. Soon they were met by the prefect’s two sons at the head of a great company of civil and military officials. Their appearance put Liu Bei more at ease. He was conducted to the guesthouse and Zhao Yun posted his three hundred men all around to guard it completely, while he himself, fully armed, remained by the side of his chief.

  Liu Qi, the prefect’s elder son, said to Liu Bei, “My father is feeling un-well and could not come so he begs you, Uncle Liu, to entertain the guests and urge the officials in charge of agriculture and husbandry to make greater contributions.”

  “I’m really unfit for such responsibilities,” said Liu Bei modestly, “but your father’s command must be obeyed.”

  By the following day all the officials from the forty-two counties of the nine districts had arrived.

  Then Cai Mao said to his colleague Kuai Yue: “This Liu Bei is the villain of the age. If he were to stay here for long he would certainly bring harm to us. We must get rid of him today.”

  “You might not get popular support if you harm him,” said Kuai Yue.

  “I have already secretly spoken in these terms to the prefect,” said Cai Mao. “I have his word here.”

  “If so, we must first make preparations.”

  Cai Mao told him that he had sent three of his brothers to guard the east, south, and north gates. ?
??No guard is needed at the west gate as the stream in front of it provides a natural safeguard,” he added.

  Kuai Yue said, “I notice that Zhao Yun never leaves him. It might be difficult to approach him.”

  “I have placed five hundred men in ambush in the city.”

  Kuai Yue said, “You can tell Wen Ping and Wang Wei to invite all the military officers to a banquet in the outer hall so as to separate Zhao Yun from his master. Then our opportunity will come.”

  Cai Mao thought this a good scheme to get Zhao Yun out of the way.

  Meanwhile, oxen and horses were slaughtered and an enormous feast was prepared. Liu Bei rode to the banquet hall on his newly-acquired horse and when he arrived the steed was led into the back part of the enclosure and tethered there. Soon the guests also came, and Liu Bei took his place as the host between the two sons of the prefect. The guests were seated in order of rank. Zhao Yun stood near his lord, sword in hand.

  Presently Wen Ping and Wang Wei came to invite Zhao Yun to the banquet they had prepared for the military officers, but he declined. However, Liu Bei told him to go and Zhao Yun reluctantly agreed.

  Outside the banquet hall, Cai Mao had made every possible arrangement and the whole place was as tight as an iron barrel. Liu Bei’s three hundred guards were all sent back to the guesthouse. Everything was ready and Cai Mao was only waiting for the wine to go a few more rounds before he would give the signal for action.

  At the third course, Yi Ji took a goblet of wine in his hand and approached Liu Bei. With a meaningful look in his eyes, Yi Ji whispered to him, “Make an excuse to get away.”

  Liu Bei understood and presently rose as if he needed to relieve himself and went outside. There he found Yi Ji, who had gone out to wait for him after pouring wine for the guests. Yi Ji then told him about Cai Mao’s plot to kill him and that all the gates were guarded except the west gate. And he advised him to lose no time to escape.

  Liu Bei was quite taken aback. However, he hastened to get hold of his Dilu horse, opened the door of the garden, and led it out. Then he took a flying leap into the saddle and galloped off, without waiting for his escort. He made straight for the west gate. At the gate the wardens wanted to question him, but he only whipped up his steed and rode through. The guards at the gate ran to report to Cai Mao, who quickly went in pursuit with five hundred soldiers.

  After he burst out of the west gate, Liu Bei was soon face to face with a big stream barring his way of escape. It was the Tan River, many score of feet in width, which pours its water into the Xiang River. Its current was very swift.

  Liu Bei reached the bank and saw the river was unfordable. So he turned his horse and rode back. Then, not far off, he saw a cloud of dust and knew that his pursuers were coming. He thought that it was all over. In despair he turned again toward the swift river and, seeing the soldiers now quite near, plunged into the stream. After a few paces, he felt the horse’s forelegs floundering, while the water rose over the skirt of his robe. Then he plied his whip furiously, crying, “Dilu, Dilu, don’t harm me today!”

  Whereupon the good steed suddenly reared up out of the water and, with one tremendous leap, was on the western bank. Liu Bei felt as if he had come out of the clouds.

  In later years the famous poet, Su Dongpo,* wrote a poem on this leap over the Tan River:

  I’m growing old, the leaves are bare,

  The sun sloping westward, soon will sink,

  And I recall that yester year

  I wandered by Tan River brink.

  Irresolute, anon I paused,

  Anon advanced, and gazed around,

  I marked the autumn’s reddened leaves,

  And watched them eddying to the ground.

  I thought of all the mighty deeds

  Of him who set the House of Han

  On high, and all the struggles since,

  The battlefields, the blood that ran.

  I saw the nobles gather round

  The board, set in the banquet hall;

  Amid them, one, above whose head

  There hung a sword about to fall.

  I saw him quit that festive throng

  And westward ride, a lonely way;

  I saw a squadron follow swift,

  Intent the fugitive to slay.

  I saw him reach the River Tan

  Whose swirling current rushes by;

  Toward the bank he galloped fast,

  “Now leap, my steed!” I heard him cry.

  His steed’s hoofs churn the swollen stream;

  What wrecks he that the waves run high?

  He hears the sound of clashing steel,

  Of thundering squadrons coming nigh.

  And upward from the foaming waves

  I saw two peerless beings soar;

  One was a destined western king,

  And him another dragon bore.

  The Tan still rolls from east to west,

  Its roaring torrent ne’er dry.

  Those dragons twain, Ah! where are they?

  Yes, where? But there is no reply.

  The setting sun, in dark relief

  Against the glowing western sky,

  Throws out the everlasting hills

  While, saddened, here I stand and sigh.

  Men died to found the kingdoms three

  Which now as misty dreams remain.

  Of greatest deeds the traces oft

  Are faint that fleeting years retain.

  Thus Liu Bei crossed the rolling stream. Then he turned and looked back at the other bank that his pursuers had just gained.

  “Why did you run away from the feast, sir?” cried Cai Mao.

  “Why do you wish to harm one who has done you no injury?” replied Liu Bei.

  “I have never thought of such a thing—do not listen to what people say to you.”

  But Liu Bei saw that his enemy was fitting an arrow to his bowstring, so he whipped up his steed and rode away toward the southwest.

  “What god aided him?” said Cai Mao to his followers.

  Then he turned to go back to the city, but then he saw Zhao Yun coming out of the west gate at the head of his company of guards.

  By wondrous leap the dragon steed his rider’s life could save,

  Now follows him, on vengeance bent, his master’s warrior brave.

  The fate of Cai Mao will be told in the next chapter.

  Footnotes

  * An allusion to the fact that Liu Shan would later rule in western regions for forty years.

  † The constellation is known in Chinese as the Northern Dou or the Northern Dipper. Hence the child was affectionately called A Dou.

  * (A.D. 1037–1101), one of the most important poets of Song Dynasty.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Liu Bei Meets a Recluse at Nanyang

  Shan Fu Finds a Noble Lord at Xinye

  Just as Cai Mao was going into the city he met Zhao Yun and his three hundred soldiers. Now Zhao Yun, who was drinking with the other military officers, had noticed some movements of men and horses and had at once gone into the banquet hall to see if all was well with his lord. To his great shock he found Liu Bei missing from his seat. He had become extremely anxious and rushed back to the guesthouse to look for him. There, he heard that Cai Mao had gone off to the west gate with troops. So he quickly took his spear, mounted his horse, and went with the escort in hot haste along the same road. Seeing Cai Mao near the gate he asked, “Where is my lord?”

  “He left the banquet hall quite suddenly and I do not know where he has gone,” was the reply.

  Now Zhao Yun was a man of prudence and had no desire to act hastily, so he urged his horse forward till he came to the river. There he was checked by a wide stream, without ford or bridge. At once he turned back and questioned Cai Mao sternly: “You invited my lord to a feast—what do you mean by going after him with armed troops?”

  Cai Mao replied, “All the officials of the nine districts have assembled here. As chief officer I am responsible f
or their safety.”

  “Where have you driven my lord?” asked Zhao Yun.

  “They told me he rode quite alone out through the west gate but when I came here I did not see him.”

  Zhao Yun was anxious and doubtful. Again he rode to the river and looked around. This time he noticed a wet track on the other side of the stream. He thought to himself, “Could it be that both my lord and his horse have leaped across the river…?” And he ordered his men to scatter and search, but they could find no trace of Liu Bei.

  Zhao Yun turned again toward the city. By that time, however, Cai Mao had gone within. He then questioned the gate wardens and they all said that Liu Bei had ridden out at full gallop. That was all they knew. He would like to re-enter the city but was afraid lest he should fall into an ambush, so he started for home.

  After that marvelous life-saving leap over the surging waves, Liu Bei felt elated but rather dazed. He could not help feeling that his safety was due to a special intervention of providence. Following a tortuous path, he urged his steed toward Nanzhang. Dusk was falling and the sun was waning in the west, but his destination seemed yet a long way off. As he was riding along he saw a young cowherd seated on the back of a buffalo, playing on a short flute.

  “If I were only as happy!” sighed Liu Bei.

  He reined in his steed and looked at the lad who stopped his beast, ceased playing on the instrument, and stared back at the stranger.

  “You must be General Liu Xuan-de, who overcame the Yellow Turbans,” said the boy presently.

  Liu Bei could not believe his ears.

  “How can you know my name, a mere lad like you living in such a secluded place?” he asked incredulously.

  “Of course I do not know you but my master often has visitors and they all mention Liu Bei, a man of medium height whose hands hang down below his knees and whose eyes are able to see his own ears. They say that he is the real hero of the day. Now you, General, look exactly the same as the man they talk about and so I think you must be he.”

  “Well, who is your master?”