“With my aged mother a prisoner I cannot swallow anything, not even if it were brewed from gold or distilled from jade,” said Xu Shu.
“Alas! your departure makes me feel like I’m losing both my hands,” said Liu Bei, “and even the liver of a dragon or the marrow of a phoenix would be bitter in my mouth.”
They sat facing each other and wept till dawn. A farewell banquet was arranged outside the city wall and all the officers were assembled there. Liu Bei and Xu Shu rode out side by side. At the pavilion they dismounted to drink the stirrup cup. Liu Bei lifted the goblet and said, “It is my mean fortune that separates me from you but I hope that you will serve well your new lord and fulfill your life’s mission.”
Xu Shu wept as he replied, “I am but a poor, ignorant person whom you have kindly employed and trusted. Unfortunately I have to leave you in the middle of the course, but it is really for the sake of my aged mother. Even though Cao Cao may try all manner of means to coerce me, I will never plan a single scheme for him.”
“After you are gone I will bury myself in the hills and hide in the forests,” said Liu Bei.
Xu Shu said, “I depended on a clear-thinking mind to plan for you the strategies to build an empire, but with my aged mother in danger, my mind is all confused. Even if I were here I would be of no use to you. You ought to seek some man of supreme wisdom to help you in your great design. How can you give up so easily?”
“None of the great scholars of the day can compare with you, sir.”
“How can I deserve such a praise?” said Xu Shu. “I am only a man of limited ability.”
As he moved off he said to the officers that had come to see him off, “I hope you will all serve our lord well so that your names and your merits will be recorded in the country’s annals. Do not be like me, a man who has left his work half done.”
The officers were all deeply affected. Liu Bei could not bring himself to part with his advisor so he escorted him a little further, and yet a little further, till Xu Shu said, “I will not trouble you, my lord, to come any further. Let us say farewell here.”
Liu Bei, while mounted, took Xu Shu by the hand and said, “Alas! now you leave and we will be far apart. Who knows when we will meet again?”
His tears fell like rain and Xu Shu also wept bitterly. But the last goodbyes were said and when the traveler had gone Liu Bei reined in his horse, gazing after the receding figure and watching him slowly disappear. At the last glimpse he broke into lamentation.
“He is gone! What shall I do?”
As he strained his eyes to get yet another glimpse of his advisor, a line of trees shut out the traveler from his sight and he pointed at it with his horse whip and said, “How I would like to cut down every tree in this place!”
“Why?” asked his men in surprise.
“Because they hinder me from seeing Xu Shu.”
As they were looking they suddenly saw Xu Shu galloping back.
Liu Bei said, “He is returning—can it be that he is going to stay?”
So he hastened forward to meet him and when they got near enough he cried, “This return is surely for no slight reason.”
Checking his horse, Xu Shu said, “In the turmoil of my feelings I forgot to say one word. There is a man of exceptional talents who lives in Long-zhong, only about twenty li from the city of Xiangyang. Why not go and seek him?”
“Can I trouble you to invite him to come and see me?”
“This man will not suffer being summoned; you must go to him. If he consents to assist you, then you will be as fortunate as when the Zhous got the aid of Lu Shang, or Han when Zhang Liang came to help.”
“How does he compare with yourself in wisdom and virtue?”
“With me? Well, it is like comparing a slow carthorse to a Qilin,* or a crow to a phoenix. This man often regards himself as Guan Zhong and Yue Yi but, in my opinion, he is far superior. He has the talent to measure the heavens and mete the earth; he is a man who overshadows every other in the world.”
“I would like to know his name,” said Liu Bei, rather pleased.
“He is a native of Yangdu, Langye—his double surname is Zhuge and his give name, Liang. His self-styled name is Kongming. He is the descendant of an officer in the Han army. His father was an official but died young, so he came with his uncle to Jingzhou, since Prefect Liu Biao was an old friend of his uncle’s, and so he settled down there. Then his uncle died and he, with a younger brother, Jun, took to farming in Nanyang. He often composes elegies in the style of Ode to Mount Liangfu.
“On their land was a hillock called the Sleeping Dragon, so he called himself Master Sleeping Dragon. This man is a veritable genius. You must go and visit him without delay and if he will help you, then you need have no more anxiety about achieving your aims.”
“The other day Sima Hui spoke of two men, Fulong and Fengchu, and said that if I could get one of them to help me all would be well. Is he one of the two?”
“Fengchu, or Phoenix Fledgeling, is Pang Tong; and Fulong, or Sleeping Dragon, is exactly Zhuge Liang.”
Liu Bei said excitedly, “Now at last I know who these mysterious names refer to. I little expected they were right here! But for you, sir, I would still be like a blind man.”
Later a poem was written to praise Xu Shu for his recommendation of Zhuge Liang at the time of his departure:
Liu Bei heard that his able friend
Must leave him with saddened heart,
For each to the other had grown very dear,
Both wept when they came to part.
But the faithful friend then mentioned a name
That echoed both loud and deep,
Like a thunder clap in a springtime sky,
And there wakened a dragon from sleep.
After he had recommended Zhuge Liang to the lord he was to serve, Xu Shu took his leave again and rode away.
Thus Liu Bei finally understood the speech of the hermit Sima Hui, and he felt as if he had regained consciousness from a drunken sleep, or awoken from a deep dream. At the head of his officers he returned to the city, where he lost no time in preparing rich gifts. He then set out with his two brothers for Nanyang to invite Zhuge Liang to serve him.
Touched by Liu Bei’s reluctance to part with him, Xu Shu had mentioned the name and retreat of his friend. Now it occurred to him that Zhuge Liang might be unwilling to play the part of helper in Liu Bei’s scheme, so he decided to pay him a visit, intending to persuade him. He therefore went to Sleeping Dragon Ridge and dismounted at his friend’s cottage. When Zhuge Liang asked him why he had come, Xu Shu replied, “I have been in the service of Liu Bei and I wished I could continue to serve him. Unfortunately, my mother has been imprisoned by Cao Cao and she has summoned me to her. Therefore I had to leave him. At parting I recommended you to him. He will soon come to invite you and I hope you will not refuse but will consent to use your great talents to help him.”
Zhuge Liang turned angry and said, “Do you regard me as a victim offered to the altar?”
So saying he left the room with a flick of his sleeves. The guest shamefacedly retired, mounted his horse, and hastened on his way to the capital to see his mother.
To help the lord he loved very well,
He summoned the aid of another,
When he took the distant homeward way,
At the call of a loving mother.
What happens to Xu Shu in the capital will be told in the next chapter.
Footnote
* A mythical animal of very fast speed, similar to a deer.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sima Hui Recommends Zhuge Liang
Liu Bei Pays Three Visits to Zhuge Liang's Cottage
After his visit to Zhuge Liang, Xu Shu hastened to the capital. When Cao Cao knew he had arrived, he sent Cheng Yu and other advisors to welcome him and so he was led first to his residence.
Cao Cao asked, “Why should a scholar of such superior wisdom as you bow the knee to Liu Bei?”
r /> “When I was young I was a fugitive on the run. I spent some time as a wanderer and happened to pass Xinye, where I became good friends with Liu Bei. But I am much indebted to you for being merciful to my mother here.”
“Now that you have come you will be able to take care of your mother at all times. And I may have the privilege of receiving your wisdom,” replied Cao Cao.
Xu Shu then took his leave and hurried to his mother’s dwelling. Weeping with emotion he made his obeisance to her at the door of her room.
But she was greatly surprised to see him and asked, “Why are you here?”
“I was at Xinye in the service of Liu Bei when I received your letter. I came immediately.”
His mother suddenly grew very angry. Pounding the table with her fist she cried, “You shameful and degenerate son! For years you have been roaming around the world and I thought you would have improved in your learning. Why are you even worse than before? You are a student and know the books. You must then know that loyalty and filial piety are often opposed. Don’t you recognize in Cao Cao a traitor, a man who flouts his Emperor and insults his superiors? Don’t you see that Liu Bei is virtuous and upright, as all the world knows? Moreover, he is of the House of Han and when you were with him you were serving an appropriate master. Now on the strength of a scrap of forged writing, without making any inquiry, you have left the light and plunged into darkness to earn a disgraceful reputation for yourself. How very stupid you are! And I feel too ashamed to look upon you. You have defiled the good name of your forefathers. What a waste for you to be born in this world!”
The son remained bowed to the floor, not daring to lift his eyes, while his mother delivered this vilifying tirade. Even after she had finished her speech and left the room, he was still kneeling on the floor. Soon, one of the servants came out to say that the old lady had hanged herself. Startled beyond measure, Xu Shu rushed in to try to save her, but it was too late.
A eulogy was written for the old lady:
Wise Mother Xu, fair is your fame,
The history page glows with your name,
The family’s renown you made.
To train your son no pains you spared,
For your own body nothing cared.
You stand sublime as a high hill
Through simple purity of heart.
Bravely you extolled Liu Bei’s worth
And blamed Cao Cao for his evils.
Of blazing fire you felt no fear,
You blanched not when the sword came near,
But dreaded lest a willful son
Should dim the fame his fathers won.
Yes, Mother Xu was of one mould
With famous heroines of old,
Who never shrank from injury,
And even were content to die.
Eloquent praise, while still alive,
Was yours, and ever will survive.
Hail! Mother Xu, your memory,
While time rolls on, shall never die.
At the sight of his dead mother, Xu Shu wept so bitterly that he fainted and only recovered consciousness after a long time. When Cao Cao heard of it he sent mourning gifts, and in due course went in person to express his condolences. Xu Shu buried her mother in the south of the capital and kept a vigil at her tomb. He consistently rejected all gifts from Cao Cao.
At that time Cao Cao was contemplating an attack on Sun Quan in the southeast. His advisor Xun Yu argued that he should wait until the weather was milder and he agreed. But he began to prepare for the war. The waters in a river were redirected to form a lake, which he called the “Training Lake,” where he could accustom his men to fight on the water.
Now Liu Bei was preparing gifts for his intended visit to Zhuge Liang when his servants came to announce the arrival of a stranger of exceptionally austere appearance, wearing a lofty headdress and a wide belt.
“Could it be him?” said Liu Bei to himself. Hastily arranging his dress, he went to welcome the visitor. But the first glance showed him that it was the mountain recluse Sima Hui, also known as Water Mirror. However, Liu Bei was very glad to see him and led him into the inner hall, where he conducted the guest to the seat of honor and made his obeisance.
Liu Bei said, “Since leaving you that day in the mountains I have been overwhelmed with military affairs and so have failed to visit you as I should. Now that you have condescended to come and see me I feel that my ardent wishes have been gratified.”
“I hear Xu Shu is here. I have come expressly to see him,” replied the visitor bluntly.
“He has lately left for the capital. A messenger came with a letter from his mother telling him of her imprisonment by Cao Cao.”
“Then he must have fallen into Cao Cao’s trap!” said Sima Hui. “I have always known his mother to be a very noble woman, and even if she was imprisoned by Cao Cao she would not summon her son like that. That letter was undoubtedly a forgery. If the son did not go, the mother would be safe; if he went, she would be a dead woman.”
“But how could it be?” asked Liu Bei, astonished.
“She is a woman of the highest principles, who will be greatly mortified seeing her son under such circumstances.”
Liu Bei said, “Just as your friend was leaving he recommended to me a certain Zhuge Liang of Nanyang. What do you think of him?”
Sima Hui smiled and said, “If Xu Shu wanted to go, he could just leave. But why should he want to drag Zhuge Liang out to shed his heart’s blood?”
“Why do you say that, sir?” asked Liu Bei.
He replied: “Zhuge Liang has four closest friends—Cui Zhou-ping, Shi Guang-yuan, Meng Gong-wei, and Xu Shu. These four are devoted to the perfection of separate things. Only Zhuge Liang is able to perceive their overall meaning. He used to sit with his hands about his knees reciting poetry, and then, pointing to his companions, he would say, ‘You, gentlemen, could be governors or prefects in official life.’
“When they asked him what his ambition was he would only smile and refuse to answer. He often compares himself with the great scholars Guan Zhong and Yue Yi. No one could truly measure his talents.”
“Yingchuan is truly a wonderful place that produces so many able men!” said Liu Bei.
“Well, in the old days the astrologer, Yin Kui, had predicted that as the stars clustered thick over this district, there would emerge many wise men here.”
Guan Yu was present at the time and heard Zhuge Liang so highly praised. He said, “Guan Zhong and Yue Yi were famous men in the period of Spring and Autumn and their merits greatly surpassed the rest of mankind. Is it not too conceited for Zhuge Liang to compare himself with these two?”
“In my opinion he should not be compared with these two, but rather with two others,” said Sima Hui.
“Who are these two?’ asked Guan Yu.
“One of them is Lu Shang, who laid the foundations of the Zhou Dynasty so firmly that it lasted 800 years, and the other is Zhang Liang, who made Han glorious for four centuries.”
Before the surprise caused by this startling statement had subsided, the visitor walked down the steps and took his leave. Liu Bei would have kept him longer if he could, but he would not stay. As he stalked proudly away he looked up at the sky and said, laughing heartily: “Though the Sleeping Dragon has found his lord, he has not been born at the right time. It’s a pity.”
“What a wise hermit!” sighed Liu Bei in admiration.
The next day, the three brothers set out to find the abode of the wise man. When they were near the spot they saw several peasants hoeing in a field and as they worked they sang:
The earth is a chequered board,
And the sky hangs over all,
Under it men are contending,
Some rise, but many more fall.
For those who succeed, ‘tis well,
But for those who go under, rough.
There’s a dozing dragon nearby,
But his sleep isn’t deep enough.
They stopped to listen
to the song and, calling one of the peasants, asked who composed it.
“It was made by Master Sleeping Dragon,” said the laborer.
“Where does he live?”
“South of this hill there is a ridge called The Sleeping Dragon and close by is a sparse wood. In it stands a modest cottage. That is where Master Zhuge takes his repose.”
Liu Bei thanked him and the party rode on. Soon they came to the ridge, most aptly named, for indeed it lay wrapped in an atmosphere of calm beauty.
A poem has been composed to describe it:
Not far from Xiangyang’s ancient walls
There stands clear cut against the sky,
A lofty ridge, and at its foot
A gentle stream goes gliding by.
The hills, curving upward to join
The scudding clouds, arrest the eye.
Gurgling water falls from the top
Meets the rocks as its journey stops.
There, like a sleeping dragon coiled,
Or phoenix hid among thick pines,*
You see, secure from prying eyes,
A hut, reed-built on rustic lines.
The rough-joined doors, pushed by the wind,
Swing idly open and disclose
The greatest genius of the world
Enjoying still his calm repose.
The air is full of woodland scents,
Around are hedgerows trim and green,
Close-growing intercrossed bamboo
Replace the painted doorway screen.
But look within and books you see
By every couch, near every chair;
And you may guess that common men
Are very seldom welcomed there.
The hut seems far from human ken,
So far, one might expect to find
Wild forest denizens there, trained
To serve in place of human kind.
Outside, a hoary crane† might stand
As warden of the outer gate;
Within, a long-armed gibbon come
To offer fruit upon a plate.
But enter—there refinement reigns;