“What can be done? They are far away by now.”
Jiang Qin said, “After all they are but on foot and cannot travel very fast.” Following his suggestion, it was then decided that Xu Sheng and Ding Feng were to go to Zhou Yu and tell him to pursue the fugitives by water with fast boats, while the other four were to follow by land. Once they caught up with the runaways either by water or land, they were to slay them right away, without even waiting to hear what they might say.
Meanwhile, Liu Bei and his followers had reached the river, some distance from Caisang and he felt a little calmer. Here they searched along the bank, looking for boats, but there were no craft on the broad bosom of the stream. Liu Bei bowed his head, deep in thought.
Zhao Yun asked him not to worry, saying, “You have escaped from the tiger’s jaws and have not far to go. I think our advisor must have some plan ready.”
These words triggered memories of the luxurious life he had enjoyed in the house of his wife and tears rolled down his cheeks. A poem was written about this episode.
By the bank of the deep flowing Yangtze
Once was a wedding,
And the ruling houses of two states yet to be
Were allied by marriage.
See the beautiful maiden stepping slowly
To the golden bridal chamber.
Yet was the marriage but a ruse.
Its author vainly imagined that a hero,
Sinking in amorous toils,
Would forget his high intent and great resolve.
Liu Bei told Zhao Yun to go down the bank to find some boats. Suddenly soldiers rushed to report that there was a huge cloud of dust behind them. Ascending a hill he saw riding swiftly toward them an army that seemed to cover the whole earth. He said with a sigh, “We have been fleeing for days. Our men are worn out and our horses spent. Now the pursuers are on us again and we will all die in this place, far from home.”
He watched them approaching nearer and nearer. Then, as things began to look most desperate, he saw a line of some twenty boats all in the act of setting their sails.
“By good luck here are some boats,” said Zhao Yun. “Let us get on board quickly, row to the other bank and see what can be done.”
Liu Bei and his bride hastened down the bank and went into a boat. Zhao Yun and the soldiers also embarked. Then they saw coming out of the cabin a man in a Taoist robe, who laughed loudly, saying, “My lord, Zhuge Liang has been waiting for you for a long time.”
All the merchants on board were actually their men from Jingzhou in disguise, and Liu Bei rejoiced at this sudden happy turn of affairs.
Before long the pursuers reached the bank. Zhuge Liang pointed to them and laughed, saying, “I foresaw this a long time ago. You may return and tell Zhou Yu not to use this ‘fair damsel ruse’ again.”
Those on the bank sent a flight of arrows at the boats but they were already too far away. The four officers on the bank could only stare.
As the boats were sailing along a great noise was heard on the river behind them and there appeared a huge fleet of warships, sailing under the flag of Zhou Yu who was there in command, supported on two sides by Huang Gai and Han Dang. They had the momentum of a drove of flying horses and came along swift as a comet, gaining on the fugitives rapidly.
Zhuge Liang ordered the boats to row over to the north bank where, abandoning the vessels, they landed and took to the road. Presently Zhou Yu’s men also disembarked to keep up the pursuit, with only a few in front riding horses. When they reached the borders of Huangzhou, Liu Bei and his party were not far away, and so they pressed on even harder. All of a sudden, the rolling of drums was heard and from out of a gully dashed a force of swordsman led by Guan Yu.
Zhou Yu was too unprepared to do anything but flee for his life and Guan Yu pursued. As the men of Wu ran away, two more enemy officers came forth and attacked them, so that they suffered a severe defeat. Hardly had Zhou Yu managed to get down into his ship when soldiers on the bank jeered at him on the undoing of his scheme. They were told to shout:
Matchless indeed are Zhou Yu’s wonderful designs,
He loses his men and gives Liu his bride besides.
Zhou Yu was so annoyed that he would have gone up the bank to fight again if his officers had not restrained him.
“My schemes have failed,” he thought. “How could I look my lord in the face?”
All at once he cried aloud and with that his old wound reopened. The officers came to his help but he had already lost consciousness.
Twice had he planned and twice had he lost the game;
He was full of resentment and overwhelmed with shame.
What might happen to Zhou Yu will be narrated in the next chapter.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Cao Cao Gives a Banquet in the Bronze Bird Tower
Zhuge Liang Provokes Zhou Yu to Anger a Third Time
At the end of the last chapter Zhou Yu was worsted by the three groups of troops placed in ambush by Zhuge Liang. His two colleagues contrived to get him clear and they found refuge in the ships, though with the loss of many of their men. When Zhou Yu looked back he saw Liu Bei, Lady Sun, and their followers all quietly resting on a hilltop. How could such a sight fail to provoke him to rage? And in his anger his wound, not yet healed, burst open once again. He fainted and fell. His men raised him and his ship set sail. They were not pursued and Liu Bei proceeded to Jingzhou, where great celebrations were duly prepared in honor of his recent marriage and rewards were distributed among the officers.
Meanwhile Zhou Yu had gone to Caisang while Jiang Qin and the other three officers bore the sad tidings to Sun Quan, who was beside himself with fury—his first response was to send an army under Cheng Pu to seize Jingzhou. Zhou Yu also wrote from his sick bed urging his lord to take vengeance.
But Zhang Zhao objected. “Cao Cao has never forgotten his defeat, but he dares not attempt to avenge himself while we are united with Liu Bei. If in a moment’s anger you fall upon your former ally, Cao Cao will certainly seize the opportunity and your position will be most perilous.”
Another advisor called Gu Yong supported him, saying, “Beyond all doubt Cao Cao has his spies here. As soon as he hears of any rift in the friendship between Sun and Liu, he will attempt to come to an understanding with Liu Bei who, being afraid of your power, will accept his offer and take his side. Such an alliance will be a perpetual menace to our land. The plan, for now, is to secure the friendship of Liu Bei by petitioning to the Emperor that he be made Governor of Jingzhou, which will make Cao Cao afraid to send any army against us. At the same time, it will raise kindly feelings in the heart of Liu Bei and win his support. Later you can employ some trusted people to provoke a quarrel between Cao Cao and Liu Bei and set them at each other’s throats. That will be your opportunity to strike.”
“You are quite right,” said Sun Quan. “But who should I send to accomplish such a mission?”
“There is a suitable man here, one whom Cao Cao admires.”
“Who is he?”
“Hua Xin. Why not send him?”
Therefore Hua Xin was appointed envoy and sent to the capital with Sun Quan’s letter. Once there he was told that Cao Cao and the other officials were at Yejun, celebrating the completion of the Bronze Bird Tower. So toward that place he went.
Indeed, Cao Cao had never forgotten his terrible defeat and harbored schemes to avenge it, but his fear of an alliance between his two chief enemies restrained him.
In the spring of the fifteenth year of Jian An, the construction of the Bronze Bird Tower was finished and Cao Cao went down to Yejun with a vast assembly to celebrate its completion with banquets. This magnificent piece of architecture was erected on the bank of the Zhang River. The Bronze Bird Tower stood in the center, flanked by two others named the Jade Dragon and the Golden Phoenix, each rising a hundred feet high into the air. There were two bridges on top to connect them. Gold and jade vied with each other in the numerous apartments.
At the opening ceremony Cao Cao wore a golden headdress inlaid with jewels and a robe of green brocade, girded with a belt of jade. On his feet were pearl-encrusted shoes. So clad he took his seat as host, while his followers, civil and military, were drawn up below the terrace.
For the military officers an archery competition was arranged and the prize, a red fighting robe of West Chuan silk, 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 the Cao family being dressed in red and the others in green. With carved bows and long arrows, they mounted on their steeds, waiting for their master to give the signal for the contest to begin. Each was to shoot one arrow and the person who hit the red bull’s-eye would get the robe; those who missed were to pay the forfeit of drinking a cup of cold water.
As soon as the signal was given a red-robed youth rode quickly forth. He was Cao Xiu. Three times he galloped swiftly to and fro. Then he fitted the notch of his arrow to the string, pulled the bow to its full and the arrow flew straight to the bull’s eye.
The clang of the gongs and the roll of the drums announced the feat, which was cheered by all. And Cao Cao, as he sat on the platform, was delighted.
“A very promising thousand-li colt of our Cao family,” he said to those about him. He was on the point of sending someone to get the fine robe to present to the young man when suddenly from the green side rode out an officer who cried, “It would be more fitting to let those of us of other families compete first for the prime minister’s silken robe; it is not right for members of the Cao family to take the lead.”
Cao Cao looked at the speaker, who turned out to be Wen Ping. And the other officers cried, “Let us see what his shooting is like!”
So Wen Ping fitted an arrow to the string of his bow and fired from horseback while galloping. To the delight of the onlookers he also made a bull’s eye, which was honored by another salute from gongs and drums.
“Quickly bring me the robe,” cried Wen Ping.
But at once from the ranks of the red-robed officers dashed forward another competitor, shouting fiercely, “How can you win what has been already won? But let me show you how I can shoot an arrow that will out-shine both your shots.”
He drew his bow to the full and the arrow flew straight to the heart of the red. The onlookers, cheering in unison, saw that this new competitor was Cao Hong, who now also claimed the robe.
However, yet another archer came forth from the green-robed ranks, waving his bow and crying, “There is nothing remarkable about the shooting of the three of you. See how I can shoot.”
This man was Zhang He. He put his horse to the gallop, then turning, shot backwards, also hitting the center of the red.
Thus four arrows were now sticking in the bull’s eye and all agreed that it was marvelous archery.
“I think the robe should be mine,” said Zhang He.
Before he could finish speaking a fifth competitor came out from the red-robed officers. “You shot backwards—but that is commonplace enough,” he said. “Look how I can shoot the heart of hearts.”
The speaker was Xiahou Yuan. He galloped off to the very limit of the target range and then turning backwards he sent his arrow right into the middle of the other four.
As the gongs and drums broke out Xiahou Yuan checked his horse and said, with his hand on his bow, “Doesn’t that shot deserve the robe?”
To echo his words yet another rival came forward, crying, “Leave the robe there for me.” It was Xu Huang.
“Can you do better?” asked Xiahou Yuan.
“Yours is no great feat. I will show you how I will win the robe after all.”
So speaking, Xu Huang fitted an arrow to his bow, aimed at the distant willow branch from which hung the robe, and shot. As the arrow flew, the branch snapped and the robe fluttered to the ground. At once Xu Huang dashed over, picked up the robe, and slipped it over his shoulders.
Then riding swiftly to the platform he thanked the prime minister for the prize. All present, including Cao Cao himself, were overcome with admiration. But just as Xu Huang was turning to ride away another green-robed officer leaped out from beside the platform, shouting, “Where are you taking that robe? Leave it to me at once!”
All eyes turned to this new contender, whom they discovered was Xu Chu. Xu Huang cried, “The robe has already been awarded to me—do you dare to take it from me by force?”
Xu Chu made no reply but galloped up to snatch the robe. As his horse drew near Xu Huang struck at his rival with his bow, but Xu Chu seized it with one hand while with the other he dragged his opponent off his saddle. Xu Huang hurriedly let go of the bow and dismounted. Xu Chu, too, slipped down from his horse and the two began to pummel each other with their fists. Cao Cao immediately sent men to separate them, but in the struggle the silk robe was torn to shreds. He called the angry rivals before him and they came, one shooting fierce looks of hate, the other grinding his teeth with rage.
“Never mind the robe—I only wanted to see your skill,” said Cao Cao, smiling. “What does a robe matter?”
So he called all the officers to him one by one and to each he presented a bolt of West Chuan silk. They thanked him for the generous gift and took their seats in due order. Then to the melody of an ensemble of music, delicious dishes of every kind were brought to the banquet tables. The officials drank one to another and hearty felicitations were exchanged.
Cao Cao looked around at those about him, saying, “Since the military officers have competed in mounted archery for our enjoyment and displayed their boldness and skill, why don’t you, my learned scholars, compose some lofty odes to make the completion of the tower an occasion of magnificent grandeur?”
“We are most willing to obey your command,” they replied, all bowing low.
Presently a group of scholars, including Wang Lang, Chen Lin and others, presented a poem each. Every poem sang the praise of Cao Cao’s celebrated services and great merits, implying at the same time that he was worthy to receive the highest honor of all.
When Cao Cao had read them he laughed. “You gentlemen are really too flattering. As a matter of fact I am but a simple man who began his career after being recommended to be an official. And when the troubles came I built myself a fine little cottage fifty li east of my home town, where I meant to study in spring and summer and hunt in fall and winter until the country was once more tranquil enough for me to come out and seek office. To my surprise, I was given a small military post that changed the course of my life when I decided to repress the rebellion and so make a name for myself. I thought that I might win an inscription on my tomb, something like ‘Here lies Lord Cao Cao of Han, the general who restored order in the west.’ That would have been ample for the work of a lifetime. I recall now that since I destroyed Dong Zhuo and smote the Yellow Turbans I have captured Yuan Shu, broken down Lu Bu, exterminated Yuan Shao, conquered Liu Biao and so subdued the whole empire. As prime minister of the state I have attained the pinnacle of honor and have nothing more to aspire for. Were it not for me, I cannot imagine how many there would be styling themselves emperor or calling themselves princes. There might be people who, seeing how powerful I am, suspect that I harbor some ulterior motive, but they are quite mistaken. I always remember what Confucius said of King Wen—that he was perfectly virtuous—and this saying is ever engraved on my mind. However, I cannot give up my army and retire simply as lord of my fief, for I am afraid once I lay down my military power I will become the victim of my enemies. Should I be defeated, the state would crumble and so I cannot risk bringing real disaster to the country for the sake of my own vanity. You are obviously not aware of my heart.”
As he finished, all his subordinates rose and bowed to him, saying: “None can equal your virtue, sir, not even Duke Zhou or the great Minister Yi Yin.”
After this speech Cao Cao drank several cups of wine in quick succession and became quite in
toxicated. He told his servants to bring him writing brush and inkstone so that he might also compose a poem. But as he was beginning to write there suddenly came reports of startling news. He was told that Sun Quan, ruler of Wu, had sent an envoy to present a petition that recommended Liu Bei to be appointed Governor of Jingzhou; that Sun Quan’s sister was now Liu Bei’s wife; and that along the River Han the greater part of the nine districts was under Liu Bei’s rule.
Cao Cao was seized with such a quaking fear at the news that he threw the brush on the floor. Cheng Yu was surprised and said to him, “You have been among fighting men for myriads, sir, and you have been in danger from stones and arrows many a time, but never have you betrayed any sign of agitation. Why are you then so affected at the news of Liu Bei’s possession of Jingzhou?”
Cao Cao replied, “Liu Bei is a dragon among men. All his life so far he has never found his opportunities, but now that he has obtained Jingzhou it is as though the dragon, once a captive, has escaped to the mighty deep. There is good reason for me to tremble with fear.”
“Do you know the reason of the coming of Hua Xin?” asked Cheng Yu.
Cao Cao replied that he did not.
“Sun Quan is apprehensive of Liu Bei and he would have attacked him were it not for you, sir. He fears that you might fall upon him while he is wrestling with Liu Bei. Therefore he has taken this measure to relieve Liu Bei of his suspicions and at the same time to keep you from invading him.”
Cao Cao nodded his agreement.
Cheng Yu continued, “Now I have a plan to set Sun and Liu at one another and give you the opportunity to destroy them both.”
“What is it?” asked Cao Cao.
“The mainstay of Wu is Zhou Yu. You can get Zhou Yu appointed prefect of Nanjun, Cheng Pu as prefect of Jiangxia, and retain the envoy Hua Xin in the capital for some important post. As both these cities have fallen into Liu Bei’s hands, Zhou Yu will assuredly attack Liu Bei and that will be our chance. Isn’t this a good scheme?”