Presently Jiang Wei came to his bedside to inquire how he felt.

  Zhuge Liang said, “My sole wish has been to exert my utmost to conquer the north and restore the rule of the Hans. But Heaven decrees it otherwise and now my end is very near. I have put down my lifelong study in twenty-four articles, totaling 104,112 words. There are passages on ‘The Eight Musts,’ ‘The Seven Cautions,’ ‘The Six Worries,’ and ‘The Five Fears.’ I have examined all my officers but can find no one fit to receive my writing, except you. You’re the only person who can carry on my work. Don’t make light of it.”

  He gave the treatise to Jiang Wei, who bowed and wept as he took it.

  “I have also developed a bow that fires multiple bolts, which I have been unable to put to use. It can shoot ten bolts of eight inches long at every discharge. You can make this weapon according to the drawings I have prepared.”

  Jiang Wei received these with another bow.

  Zhuge Liang continued, “There is no part of Shu that causes anxiety, save Yinping, which must be carefully guarded. Although the place is precipitous enough, it will cause a problem later.”

  Then Zhuge Liang sent for Ma Dai, to whom he gave certain whispered instructions, before adding, “You must follow my instructions after my death.”

  Soon after, Yang Yi entered the tent. He was called to the minister’s bedside and given a silk bag containing a secret order. As Zhuge Liang gave it to him, he said, “After my death, Wei Yan will rebel. When that happens, you’re to open this bag only at the moment of battle. Then there will be someone to slay him.”

  After he had made these arrangements, Zhuge Liang again fainted and did not revive till the evening. Then he set himself to compose a memorial to the Emperor.

  On receiving this the Emperor was greatly alarmed and at once sent Li Fu to inquire after the dying minister and consult him on future policies. Li Fu traveled day and night to the army camp to see Zhuge Liang. He delivered the Emperor’s inquiry after the prime minister’s health and made his obeisance.

  Zhuge Liang wept and said, “How sad I am to die now, leaving my task unfinished! I have failed to complete the great cause of my country and am guilty to the world. After my death you all must be loyal to the Emperor and devote yourselves to his service. The existing policies of the government are to be maintained and the men I have employed are not to be lightly discharged from office. My plans for further military campaigns have been confided to Jiang Wei, who will continue my cause in the service of the state. But my time is drawing near, and I will immediately send my testament to the Emperor.”

  Li Fu heard him out and hurriedly took his leave.

  With great difficulty Zhuge Liang sat up and told his attendants to help him into his chariot. And thus he made a last round of all the camps. But the cold fall wind chilled him to the bone.

  Heaving a deep sigh he said, “Never again shall I lead the army against the rebels! Oh, distant and azure Heaven, could anything be more sorrowful?”

  After he returned to his tent his condition worsened. He called Yang Yi to his bedside, to whom he said, “Wang Ping, Liao Hua, Zhang Ni, Zhang Yi, and Wu Yi and others are all loyal and honest men, who have fought many battles and borne much hardship. They can be employed in any task. After my death let everything go on as before. Withdraw the army slowly and without haste. You’re well versed in tactics and I need say little. Jiang Wei is wise and brave. He can be entrusted with guarding the rear.”

  Weeping, Yang Yi bowed to receive these orders. Then Zhuge Liang had writing materials brought in and, seated in bed, he wrote his testament to the Emperor. Here is the substance:

  “Life and death are a man’s common lot, and fate cannot be evaded. As death is at hand I desire to prove my loyalty to the end. I, your servant Liang, a man of little ability, was born into a difficult age, and it fell to my lot to guide military operations. I led the army on a northern expedition, but failed to achieve my aim. Now sickness has unexpectedly laid hold upon me and death is approaching. I will be unable to finish my task in the service of Your Majesty. My sorrow is inexpressible.

  “I wish that Your Majesty will always purify your heart and limit your desires; practice self-control and love your people; maintain a perfectly filial attitude toward your late father and spread your benevolence to all. Seek out the hermits and recluses that you may obtain the services of the wise and good; reject the wicked and depraved that the moral standard of the country may be exalted.

  “To my household in the capital belongs eight hundred mulberry trees and fifteen mu of land; thus there is ample provision for my family. As for myself, I have been in services away from the capital and my food and clothing have been supplied by the government. I have not contrived to make any additional income so that at my death my household will have no extra silks nor surplus money. Thus I will not have failed Your Majesty’s trust in me.”

  Having composed this document, he turned again to Yang Yi and said: “When I am no more, do not observe open mourning. Make a large coffin and place my body in it. Put seven grains of rice in my mouth and a lamp at my feet. Everything should be quiet as usual in the army, and on no account are you to start a mourning wail. Thus my star will not fall, and my soul will also rise to help hold it in place. So long as my star remains in its place Sima Yi will be afraid and perplexed. Let the rearmost division retreat first, followed slowly by the other camps, one at a time. If Sima Yi pursues, array the army for battle. Turn back the banners and beat the drum. When he approaches, push out the chariot in which sits the wooden image of myself that I have had carved before. Let the officers stand by my statue on the two flanks as usual. That will frighten Sima Yi away.”

  Yang Yi carefully noted all these orders. That night Zhuge Liang told his attendants to help him outside the tent to gaze up at the Big Dipper.

  “That’s my star,” he said, pointing to one with his sword. All the others looked up and found it to be a fading star that seemed about to fall from its place. Zhuge Liang pointed at it and quietly murmured a spell. After that he hastened back to his tent, where he again fainted.

  When the anxiety caused by his coma was at its height the imperial messenger Li Fu came back. Seeing Zhuge Liang had fallen unconscious, unable to speak, he burst into tears. “I am too late! I have foiled important business of the state!”

  However, presently Zhuge Liang regained consciousness. Opening his eyes to look at all those about him, he saw Li Fu standing near his bed.

  “I know why you have returned,” said Zhuge Liang.

  “I have the Emperor’s command to ask you, sir, who could succeed you,” replied Li Fu. “In my hurry just now I forgot to ask about that. So I have returned.”

  “After I’m gone, Jiang Wan is the most suitable man to deal with state affairs.”

  “And after Jiang Wan?”

  “Fei Yi.”

  “Who next after Fei Yi?”

  No reply came, and when they stepped forward to look at him they saw that their great prime minister had left them forever.

  Thus died Zhuge Liang, on the twenty-third day of the eighth month in the twelfth year of the period Jian Xing (A.D. 234), at the age of fifty-four.

  The great poet Du Fu wrote this verse to mourn his death.

  A bright star last night falling from the sky

  This message gave: “The Master has died.”

  No commands were issued again from his tent,

  But his fame stood out at the altar of success.

  Three thousand disciples miss their patron so kind.

  Ten thousand men were buried in his bosom in vain.

  Serene is the wood’s green shade on a sunlit morn

  But no longer can one hear the Master’s fine songs.

  And another famous poet, Bai Ju-yi, also composed a poem:

  Within the forest dim the Master lived obscure,

  Till, thrice returning, there the Emperor his mentor met.

  As when a fish the ocean gains, desire w
as filled

  Wholly; the dragon freed could soar aloft at will.

  As guardian of his lord’s son, none more zealous was;

  As minister, most loyally he wrought at court.

  His war memorials still to us are left

  And, reading them, the tears unconscious fall.

  Now in earlier days an officer named Liao Li had a high opinion of his own abilities and thought himself fitted to be Zhuge Liang’s second. Dissatisfied that his role was too idle, he showed discontent and constantly complained. Thereupon he was deprived of his office and exiled by Zhuge Liang. When he heard of the minister’s death he shed tears and said, “Then I will never be able to return.”

  Li Yan also grieved deeply at the sad tidings, for he had always hoped that Zhuge Liang would restore him to office and so give him the opportunity of making up for his former faults. After Zhuge Liang had died, he thought there was no hope of his re-employment, and he soon died of illness.

  Another famous poet, Yuan Wei-zhi, also wrote in praise of Zhuge Liang.

  He fought disorder, helped his lord in danger;

  Most zealously he cared for his master’s son.

  He surpassed Guan Zhong and Yue Yi in ability,

  He excelled Sun Tzu and Wu Qi in strategy.

  How solemn were his war memorials!

  How majestic were his Eight-Gate Arrays!

  A man of such wisdom and virtue

  Has no peer at all times.

  On the night of Zhuge Liang’s death Heaven grieved, earth mourned, and the moon was dimmed. Quietly Zhuge Liang’s soul returned to Heaven.

  Following his late command, no one dared to wail. His body was placed in the coffin as he had wished, and three hundred of his most trusty officers and men were appointed to keep a vigil. Secret orders were given to Wei Yan to command the rearguard, and then, one by one, the camps were broken up and the army began its homeward march.

  Sima Yi, who had been watching the sky, saw a large, red star with horny bright rays passing from the northeast to the southwest and dropping into the Shu camp. It dipped thrice and rose again, betraying a slight rumble. Sima Yi exclaimed with pleasure, “Zhuge Liang is dead!”

  At once he ordered pursuit with a strong force. But just as he passed the camp gates doubts filled his mind again and he gave up the plan.

  “Zhuge Liang is a master of magic. Perhaps he’s feigning death to get me to take the field. We will fall victims to his guile if we pursue.”

  So he halted. But he sent Xiahou Ba with some scouts to the Shu camps to reconnoiter.

  One night as he lay asleep in his tent, Wei Yan dreamed of two horns growing out of his head. When he awoke he was much perplexed by this strange dream. The next day an official called Zhao Zhi came to see him, and Wei Yan said, “I’ve long known that you understand very well the Book of Changes. Last night I dreamed of two horns growing upon my head. What could be its portent?”

  After meditating for quite a while his visitor replied, “It’s a very auspicious sign. There are horns on the head of the unicorn and the dragon. It foretells of transforming and soaring into the sky.”

  Wei Yan, much pleased, thanked the interpreter of his dream and promised him gifts when his words proved true.

  Zhao Zhi left and presently met Fei Yi, who asked him where he had been.

  “From the camp of Wei Yan. He dreamed that he grew horns upon his head and asked me to explain it for him. It’s an inauspicious sign but I didn’t wish to annoy him so I gave him an auspicious interpretation.”

  “How do you know it is inauspicious?”

  “The word for ‘horn’ is composed of two parts, ‘knife’ above and ‘use’ below, and so the dream comes to mean a knife upon his head. It’s a terrible omen.”

  “Please keep it to yourself,” warned Fei Yi.

  Then Fei Yi went to the camp of Wei Yan, and when they were alone, he said: “The prime minister died last night at midnight. On his deathbed he said repeatedly that you, General, are to command the rearguard to keep Sima Yi at bay while the army steadily retreats. He also told us not to conduct open mourning for his death. You can march at once.”

  “Who’s acting in place of the late prime minister?” asked Wei Yan.

  “The chief command has been delegated to Yang Yi, but the secret plans of war have been entrusted to Jiang Wei. This instruction is issued by the order of Yang Yi.”

  Wei Yan replied, “Though the prime minister is dead, I’m still here. Yang Yi is only an advisor. How can he be equal to such an important post? Let him conduct the coffin home while I lead the army against Sima Yi. I’m determined to achieve success. It’s wrong to abandon important business of the state because of the death of the prime minister alone.”

  “The prime minister’s last order was to retreat for the time being, and his order must be obeyed.”

  “If he had listened to me we should now have been at Chang’an. I’m General of Front Army, General of Conquering the West, and Marquis of Nanzheng. I’m not going to act as rearguard for a mere advisor.”

  “It may be as you say, General, but you mustn’t do anything rash to put us at the enemy’s mercy. Let me go and talk Yang Yi to his senses, and persuade him to surrender to you the military authority he holds.”

  Wei Yan agreed, and the visitor hastened back to the main camp and told Yang Yi what had been said.

  Yang Yi responded, “Before he died, the prime minister confided to me that Wei Yan would revolt. My purpose in sending him the military order was to sound him out, and now the prime minister’s prediction is confirmed. I will direct Jiang Wei to command the rearguard.”

  Therefore Yang Yi, guarding the coffin containing the remains of Zhuge Liang, marched back in advance, while Jiang Wei was told to cover the retreat. Then the army gradually withdrew according to Zhuge Liang’s dying command. Meanwhile, Wei Yan sat in his tent waiting for the return of Fei Yi, and was perplexed at the delay. Then he sent Ma Dai to find out the reason. Ma Dai returned and told him that Jiang Wei was covering the retreat and that the majority of the front army had already gone into the valley.

  Wei Yan was furious. “How dare he play with me, the pedantic block-head? But he shall die for this.” Then, turning to Ma Dai, he asked, “Will you assist me?”

  Ma Dai replied, “I have long hated Yang Yi. Certainly I’m ready to help you attack him.”

  Delighted, Wei Yan broke camp and marched southward.

  Meanwhile, by the time Xiahou Ba reached the Shu camps, they were all empty. He hastened back with this news.

  “Then he is really dead!” said Sima Yi, stamping his foot in distress. “Pursue at once!”

  “Be cautious,” said Xiahou Ba. “Send another officer first.”

  “No. I must go myself this time.”

  So Sima Yi and his two sons hastened to the Shu base. Shouting and waving flags, they rushed into the camps, only to find them entirely deserted. Telling his sons to bring up the remaining force with all speed, Sima Yi plunged ahead in the wake of the retreating army. At the foot of a hill, he saw the men of Shu in the distance and pressed on still harder. Suddenly a bomb exploded from behind some hill. A great shout shook the earth, and the retreating army turned about, ready for battle. From the shade of the trees fluttered out the great banner of the central army, bearing the words in big characters: “Prime Minister of Han, Marquis of Wuxiang, Zhuge Liang.”

  Sima Yi was shocked, turning pale with fear. He fixed his gaze ahead and saw, coming from the center of the Shu army, some score of officers of rank escorting a small chariot, in which sat Zhuge Liang as he had always appeared, a feather fan in his hand.

  “Then he is still alive!” gasped Sima Yi. “And I have rashly placed myself in his power.”

  As he hurriedly pulled round his horse to flee, he heard Jiang Wei shouting, “Do not try to run away, you rebels! You have fallen into our prime minister’s trap!”

  The Wei soldiers were so scared that they felt as if their very souls had f
lown away. Casting away their armor, helmets, spears, and tridents, they trampled each other down in their haste to escape. Many of them perished. Sima Yi galloped fifty li without pause. At last two of his officers came up with him, and stopped his flying steed by catching at the bridle. “Do not be alarmed, Commander,” they cried.

  Sima Yi clapped his hand to his head, “Have I lost my head?”

  “Do not fear, Commander. The soldiers of Shu are now far away.”

  But he was still panting for breath and only regained composure after a long while. Looking at the two officers, he recognized them to be Xiahou Ba and Xiahou Hui.

  The three found their way by some paths to their own camp, where scouts were sent out in all directions. In a few days some natives came and said: “When the Shu army retreated into the valley, their wailing shook the earth and white flags were hoisted up. Zhuge Liang is really dead. Jiang Wei was left to guard the retreat and his force consisted of only a thousand men. The figure in the chariot was but a wooden statue of the prime minister.”

  “While he lived I could guess what he would do—dead, I was powerless,” sighed Sima Yi.

  From this episode came the saying among the people of Shu: “A dead Zhuge Liang can scare off a live Sima Yi.” A poem was written about this:

  In the depth of the night a big star fell from the sky;

  But Sima fled for fear his rival was still alive

  And even now the western men, mock with scornful smiles,

  “Oh, is my head on my shoulders still?”

  Assured that his great rival was no more, Sima Yi renewed the pursuit. But he never caught up with the Shu army. Before he embarked on the homeward journey he said to his officers, “Now that Zhuge Liang is dead, we can sleep in peace.”

  On his way back he passed by places where Zhuge Liang had set his camps and was amazed at their most orderly arrangement.

  “Truly a most wonderful genius!” sighed Sima Yi.

  Then he led his army to Chang’an, where he sent his officers to guard various strategic points while he himself went on to Luoyang to visit the Emperor.