“I earnestly desire that you will lead me out, venerable sir,” he replied.
Leaning on his staff, the old man quietly and slowly conducted Lu Xun outside, without difficulty. When he was safe once again on the slope Lu Xun asked his aged guide who he was.
“I am Zhuge Liang’s father-in-law; my name is Huang Cheng-yan. My son-in-law placed these boulders here as you see them, and he said they represented the battle formation of the ‘Eight Arrays.’ There are eight gates, which are named respectively Rest, Life, Injury, Obstruction, Prospect, Death, Surprise, and Opening. They are capable of infinite mutations and are equal to 100,000 soldiers. Before he left he told me that a major general of Wu would be trapped in them sometime later and asked me not to conduct him outside. From a hill nearby I saw you enter at the Gate of Death, and I guessed you were ignorant of the scheme and would become entangled. But I am of a kindly disposition and could not bear to see you entrapped without the possibility of escape, so I came to guide you to the Gate of Life.”
“Have you studied this matter, sir?” asked Lu Xun.
“The variations are inexhaustible, and I could not learn them all.”
Lu Xun dismounted, bowed low before the old man, and then rode away.
The famous poet Du Fu* wrote a poem to praise Zhuge Liang:
Founder of a kingdom; no small praise
Is his; inventor of the Eight Arrays
And for that famous. On the river’s brim,
Firm set, the boulders stand as placed by him.
No current rolls them down. Time’s waters, too
Drown not regret, he did not conquer Wu.
Lu Xun went to his camp in deep thought.
“This Zhuge Liang is well named ‘Sleeping Dragon.’ I’m not his equal.” Then, to the amazement of all, he gave orders for all the forces to return home. His officers ventured to voice their objection, arguing that they had been so successful.
“General, you have thoroughly broken the enemy, and Liu Bei is at the end of his tethers now that he is besieged in one small city. It seems the best moment to annihilate him yet you want to withdraw just because you have come across a mysterious arrangement of stones. Why?”
“I’m not afraid of the stones, and it is not on their account that I order retreat. What I fear is Cao Pi of Wei, who is no less cunning than his father, and when he hears I’m chasing Liu Bei into Shu he will certainly attack us. It will be hard to return then.”
So he ordered an officer to guard the rear while he himself led the main force to begin its homeward journey. On the second day scouts brought urgent reports that three mighty armies of Wei had advanced at three different points and were moving very fast toward the borders of Wu.
“Just as I anticipated,” said Lu Xun. “But I’m ready for them.”
“And now the west is mine,” the victor thought,
“But beware of the north,” discretion taught.
The story of the withdrawal will be told in the next chapter.
Footnote
* Du Fu (A.D. 712–770) was one of the most famous poets of the Tang dynasty.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
Liu Bei Leaves His Son in Zhuge Liang’s Care
Zhuge Liang Peacefully Settles the Five Attacks
It was in the sixth month of the second year of Zhang Wu (A.D. 222) that Lu Xun destroyed the army of Shu at Xiaoting and forced the First Ruler to seek refuge in Baidi, where Zhao Yun marshaled the defense. When Ma Liang returned from Chengdu, he found to his deepest remorse that the battle was already lost. He related what Zhuge Liang had told him to the First Ruler, who said with a deep sigh: “If I had listened to the prime minister’s advice this defeat would not have happened. Now how can I face returning to my courtiers at the capital?”
So he decided to stay on in the city of Baidi and named the guesthouse the Palace of Eternal Peace. He was deeply grieved when he learned of the death of so many of his officers. Then he was told that Huang Quan, who had been given command of the marine force on the north bank, had surrendered to Wei. His officials suggested arresting the family of the renegade but he disagreed. “He was cut off from us by the men of Wu, and he had no alternative but to surrender to Wei. It was I who failed him, not he me. Why should I take vengeance on his family?” And he continued issuing money and grain to his family so that they would not suffer from want.
Away in Wei, Huang Quan was led before Cao Pi, who asked, “You have come to surrender to me—is it because you desire to imitate the admirable conduct of Chen Pin and Han Xin* of old?”
Huang Quan replied tearfully, “The Emperor of Shu has been very kind to me, and he gave me the command of the marine forces on the north bank. But I was cut off by Lu Xun and could not return to Shu, and as I must not surrender to Wu, I can only yield to Your Majesty. Defeated as I am, I should be only too happy if my life were spared. How dare I attempt to imitate the virtuous ones of old?”
The reply satisfied the ruler of Wei, and he conferred a prestigious title on Huang Quan, who, however, declined the honor. Then it was reported that the family members of Huang Quan had been put to death. However, he did not believe it could be true, saying, “The Emperor of Shu and myself have the greatest confidence in each other. He knows I would not have surrendered of my own free will, and he would not injure my family.”
And the ruler of Wei agreed.
But a poem was written to upbraid Huang Quan:
‘Twas a pity that Huang Quan grudged to die;
Though he yielded to Wei, not Wu,
Yet he crooked the knee in an alien court, which the loyal will not do.
And the judgment of historians condemns such men all through.
Cao Pi sought advice from Jia Xu concerning his design of bringing the whole country under his own rule.
“I want to bring the whole empire under my rule—which should I first overcome, Shu or Wu?”
“Liu Bei is an able warrior, and Zhuge Liang a most capable strategist, whereas Sun Quan knows how to use his men and his general Lu Xun is in firm control of all the key positions. There are the natural obstacles, too. The intervening rivers and spreading lakes are hard to overcome. I do not think you have any leader to match either of these two men. Even with the prestige of Your Majesty’s own presence, the result would still be unpredictable. A better course is to await changes to occur within the two places.”
“I have already dispatched three armies against Wu; can it be that they will fail?”
Another official, Liu Ye, held the same opinion as his colleague. He said, “Since Lu Xun has just won a major victory over the huge army of Shu, his officers and men will be full of confidence. And the lakes and the Yangtze are natural difficulties and hard to cope with. Lu Xun is resourceful and he will be prepared for these attacks.”
Cao Pi said, “Not long ago, sir, you urged me to attack Wu; why are you against it now?”
“Because the times have changed. At that time Wu was suffering one defeat after another and their whole country was so depressed that it could be easily smitten. Now this great victory has changed everything. Their morale has increased a hundredfold so it is not advisable to attack them now.”
“Well, I have made up my mind to attack. Say no more.”
He then decided to lead the Imperial Guards out to support his three armies. But scouts soon brought news justifying the opinion of his advisors. Wu had sent opposing forces to deal with his three armies. Liu Ye again tried to dissuade him from launching the attack, arguing that his enemy was fully prepared, but the emperor was obstinate and went on with his campaign.
The Wu officer, Zhu Huan, who had been sent to oppose Cao Ren at Ruxu, was a young man of twenty-seven. Bold and resourceful, he was a great favorite with his lord. Hearing that Cao Ren was going to attack Xian xi, Zhu Huan dispatched the bulk of his men there to defend the city, leaving only 5,000 in Ruxu. Then he heard that the van of the enemy, under Chang Diao, was advancing swiftly toward Ruxu. As they were ten times outn
umbered, his soldiers were quite frightened. Drawing his sword, Zhu Huan said, “Success depends upon the leader rather than the number of men. The Art of War says, ‘It is possible for the host army to defeat the guest army even when it is twice outnumbered. Now the enemy is weary from a long march, while we are fully rested in this high-walled city, protected further on the south side by the Yangtze and on the north by the mountains. Success should be ours for sure. Even if Cao Pi himself comes, we need have no anxiety, let alone Cao Ren and his lot.”
Then he issued an order to furl all the banners and to silence all the drums, as if the city was not defended.
In time, Chang Diao and his veterans of the van came to attack the city. As he saw no soldiers guarding the city, he hastened forward with full speed. But as he got near, suddenly there was a loud explosion. Immediately up rose a forest of flags and out galloped Zhu Huan from the city gate with his sword drawn, making straight at Chang Diao. In the third encounter Zhu Huan cut down his enemy and his men, taking advantage of the victory, thoroughly routed the invaders, slaying innumerable men and capturing many flags, weapons, and horses. Cao Ren himself, coming up later, was attacked by Zhu Huan’s men at Xianxi and also routed. He went to see Cao Pi and related how he came to be defeated. The ruler of Wei was quite startled but before he could decide what course to take regarding this loss, news came of the defeat of his two other armies. Cao Pi sighed and said sadly, “This has come from my willfulness and neglect of advice.”
It was summer time and a pestilence claimed the lives of a huge number of soldiers. So he ordered withdrawal into Luoyang. From then on the two countries of Wei and Wu were in conflict again.
Meanwhile Liu Bei was failing. He was confined to bed in his palace at the city of Baidi. In the fourth moon of the third year of Zhang Wu his condition deteriorated so rapidly that he felt that the end was near. Besides, he wept so much for his two lost brothers that his eyesight suffered. That night he was especially morose and ill-tempered—he could not bear any of his courtiers near him. Therefore he ordered them all out and lay upon his couch, sad and solitary.
A sudden gust of wind came into the chamber, almost extinguishing the candles. As they burned bright again he saw two men standing in the shade.
“I said I felt rather disturbed and told you to leave me alone,” said the First Ruler angrily. “Why have you come back? Go!”
But they did not move. Therefore he rose to look at them. To his great surprise he saw they were his two brothers, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei.
“So you’re still alive, brothers!” he said.
“We’re not men but spirits,” said Guan Yu. “The Supreme Lord has created us gods in consideration of our faithfulness throughout our lives, and ’ere long, brother, we three will be together again.”
The First Ruler clutched at the figures and burst into tears. Suddenly he awoke and the two figures vanished. He called in his people and asked them about the time. It was exactly midnight.
“My time is near,” he said with a sigh.
Messengers were at once sent to the capital to summon Zhuge Liang and some other high-ranking officials to receive the First Ruler’s last instructions. They came with his two younger sons. The eldest, the heir-apparent, was left in charge of the capital.
Zhuge Liang saw that his master was seriously ill. He bowed to the ground at the foot of his bed. The dying ruler told him to come near and sit beside him. Patting his faithful minister on the back, he said, “Thanks to your effort I have been most fortunate to attain the title of emperor. But I was stupid not to follow your advice and so bring about the recent disaster on myself. My remorse has led to my disease and now I’m going to die. My heir is a weakling and I must leave the state’s affairs in your care.”
As he finished speaking tears flowed down his cheeks freely.
“Pray take good care of yourself, Your Majesty,” implored Zhuge Liang, also in tears.
Glancing at the people in the chamber, the First Ruler saw Ma Shu, brother of Ma Liang. He told him to retire. When he had left the chamber, the First Ruler asked Zhuge Liang, “What do you think of him?”
“He is also one of the ablest men of the time,” replied Zhuge Liang.
“I don’t think so,” said the First Ruler. “I find him prone to exaggeration and not to be entrusted with important tasks. Watch him carefully, sir.”
Having said this, he told the attendants to summon the high-ranking officials of the state to the chamber. Taking paper and writing brush, the First Ruler wrote his testament. He handed it to Zhuge Liang with a sigh and said, “I’m no scholar and I know only roughly what should be learned. But the great sage said, ‘A bird’s song is sad when death is near and a dying man’s words are good.’ I had wished that together we might destroy Cao Cao’s men and restore the Hans, but before the mission is fulfilled I have to bid you farewell. I hope you will give my last command to my eldest son and heir. Tell him my words are to be taken seriously. And I trust that you will guide him in everything.”
Zhuge Liang, as well as all those present, kneeling and weeping, replied: “Pray repose yourself, Your Majesty. We will do our utmost to prove our gratitude for your kindness and trust.”
At the First Ruler’s order the attendants helped Zhuge Liang to his feet. With one hand the dying man brushed away the falling tears, while with the other he grasped Zhuge Liang’s hand and said: “The end is very near—I have something special to tell you.”
“What command has Your Majesty to give?”
“You are ten times more clever than Cao Pi, and you will surely be able to safeguard the kingdom and complete the great work. If my son can be helped, help him. But if he proves an imbecile then take the throne yourself.”
These words shocked Zhuge Liang. A cold sweat broke out throughout his body and his limbs became limp. He fell on his knees and said in tears, “How dare I not devote all my effort, even my life, to the service of your son? How will I ever forget my loyalty to you?”
He bowed his head upon the ground till it bled. Then the First Ruler asked Zhuge Liang to sit on his couch. Calling his two younger sons to come near, he said to them, “My sons, remember your father’s words. After my death you three brothers are to treat the prime minister as you would your father and never be remiss in your duties.”
He made the two princes bow to Zhuge Liang as to a father.
Zhuge Liang said, “Were I to die I should not be able to repay the kindness I have received from Your Majesty.”
Turning to the assembled officials, the First Ruler said, “As you have seen, I have confided my orphan sons to the care of the prime minister and ordered them to treat him as a father. You too, gentlemen, are to treat him with deference. This is my dying request to you.”
Turning to Zhao Yun, he said, “You and I have gone through many dangers and difficulties together. Now comes the time of our parting. I hope you won’t forget our old friendship and look after my sons.”
“Dare I not give my most faithful service!” said Zhao Yun, weeping. Then he turned to the others: “Noble sirs, I am unable to speak to you one by one but I hope you will all maintain your self-respect.”
These were the First Ruler’s last words. He was sixty-three when he died on the twenty-fourth day of the fourth month of the third year of Zhang Wu (A.D. 223).
A poem was written by Du Fu in memory of him:
The king set out to destroy the land that lay through the gorges,
Failed he and breathed his last in the Palace of Eternal Peace,
The luxurious palace in his thoughts lay beyond the highlands.
Beautiful chambers are vainly sought in his rural temple,
Now the pines near his shrine are nesting places for herons,
Through the courts aged peasants saunter, enjoying their leisure,
Nearby often is found a shrine to this famous strategist,
Prince and minister alike enjoy offerings in season.
Thus died Liu Bei, the First Ruler.
All present in the chamber wept in sorrow.
The prime minister led the procession that escorted the coffin to the capital, and the heir, Liu Shan, came to the outskirts of the city, as a dutiful son should, to receive the remains with due respect. The coffin was laid in the main hall of the palace, where after paying respects to the deceased ruler, the testament was opened and read.
“I first fell ill from a minor ailment. Other disorders followed, and it became evident that I could not recover. They say that death at fifty cannot be termed premature and as I have passed three score I cannot resent the call. Only I will miss you and your brothers. Now I say to you, do no evil because it is a small evil; do not leave undone a small good because it is a small good. Only with wisdom and virtue can men be won. Do not follow your father, for my virtue was but slender. After my death you are to conduct the affairs of the state with the prime minister. You are to treat him as a father and serve him without remiss. You and your brothers must strive to perfect yourselves. Always bear these words in mind and never forget!”
When this had been read, Zhuge Liang said, “The state cannot go a single day without a ruler, therefore I suggest we install the heir as successor to the great line of the Hans.”
So the necessary ceremony was performed and Liu Shan took his place as the Second Ruler of the Kingdom of Shu. The style of the reign was changed to Jian Xing. Zhuge Liang was given two extra titles, Marquis of Wuxiang and Governor of Yizhou.
Then they buried the late ruler at Hui Mausoleum with the posthumous title of Emperor Zhao Lie. The Empress, of the Wu family, was created Empress Dowager. The late consort Lady Gan became Empress Zhao-Lie and Lady Mi was also granted a posthumous rank of empress. There were promotions in rank and rewards for all, and a general amnesty was proclaimed.
Before long knowledge of all this came to the men of Wei and a report was sent to its capital. When he heard of the death of his rival, Cao Pi felt happy and relieved, and his thoughts at once turned toward an attack on Shu during this critical moment of the change of ruler.