Footnote
* A notable general of the Kingdom of Zhao during the period of Warring States, a colleague of Lin Xiangru (see Chapter Sixty-Six).
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Huang Zhong Scores a Victory with the Capture of Dui Hill
Zhao Yun Conquers a Host on the Han Waters
“If you’re really determined to undertake this expedition, I’ll let Fa Zheng go with you,” said Zhuge Liang to the veteran general. “You can discuss everything with him. I’ll also send reinforcements to support you.”
Huang Zhong agreed and soon the troop set out.
Zhuge Liang explained to Liu Bei that he had purposely tried to spur on the old general so that he would really exert himself, or else he would most likely fail. After this, Zhuge Liang began to prepare fully for this great operation. He first sent Zhao Yun on the same mission. He was to offer help to the old general by staging a surprise attack from some byroad. However, if the aged general was victorious, he was to do nothing; but if he was in difficulties then he was to go to his rescue at once. Next, he ordered Liu Feng and Meng Da to march out with 3,000 men. They were to take positions at strategic points on Mount Dingjun and set up a great many banners to create an impression of a huge force, and so frighten and perplex the enemy. Then he sent a messenger to Xiabian to tell Ma Chao what part he was to play in the campaign. Lastly, he ordered Yan Yan to hold Lang-zhong in the absence of Zhang Fei and Wei Yan, who would be joining the great expedition to Hanzhong.
The two fugitives, Zhang He and Xiahou Shang, reached Xiahou Yuan’s camp and told their sad tale of the loss of the Tiandang Mountain, the death of their two comrades, and the threatened attack on Hanzhong by Liu Bei. The alarming news was sent to Cao Hong, who bore it quickly to the capital.
Cao Cao lost no time in calling a council. Liu Ye, who had formerly advised Cao Cao to seize the whole of Shu, said: “The loss of Hanzhong would shake the whole country. Your Highness must not shrink from toil and hardship, but must lead the army yourself.”
“How I regret I did not heed your words before, sir,” said Cao Cao. “It is my fault that things have taken such a turn.”
He hastily issued an order to raise an army of 400,000 men, which he would lead. The army was ready in the seventh month, in early fall, and marched out in three divisions. Cao Cao commanded the central force, while Xiahou Dun and Cao Xiu led the advance and rear guards.
Cao Cao rode a white horse, beautifully caparisoned, and clad in embroidered silk. The guards carried a huge, red umbrella woven of silk and gold threads. Beside him in two lines were the symbols of princely dignity: the golden melons, silver axes, stirrups, clubs, spears, and lances; banners embroidered with the sun and moon, dragon and phoenix, were borne aloft. His escort of 25,000 Dragon and Tiger guards marched in five columns of 5,000 each, under banners of the five colors: blue, yellow, red, white, and black. These made a splendid sight as they marched, each column under its own flag, with men in armor and horses in caparisons all of one color, glittering in the sun.
As they moved out of Tong Pass and into the open space, Cao Cao noticed in the distance a thick wood, overgrown with luxuriant trees, and asked his attendants what the place was called.
“This place is called Lantian,” they replied. “And in that thicket is the estate of the late Cai Yong. Now his daughter, Cai Yan,* and her husband, Dong Si, live there.”
Now Cao Cao and Cai Yong had been excellent friends at one time. His daughter had been first married to Wei Zhong-dao. Then she was abducted and taken away to the far north, where she had borne two sons. In her exile she had composed a ballad, called Eighteen Stanzas for the Mongol Flageolet, which later became widely known in central China. Cao Cao, after reading the ballad, had been moved by pity for her sorrows and sent an envoy with a thousand taels of gold to ransom her. The ruler of the northern kingdom, overawed by Cao Cao’s strength, had returned her to her homeland. Then Cao Cao married her to Dong Si.
Ordering his escort to march on, Cao Cao went up to the house with about a hundred attendants, where they dismounted and inquired after the lady of the house. At this time Dong Si was away at his official post and only the lady was at home. As soon as she heard who her visitor was she hastened to welcome him into the reception room. When he was seated and she had paid her proper respects, she stood deferentially at his side. Glancing round the room, Cao Cao saw a rubbing of a tablet hanging on the wall. So he got up to look and asked his hostess about it.
“It is a tablet of Cao E. In the time of Emperor He (circ. A.D. 100), in Shangyu, there was a certain magician named Cao Xu, who could dance and sing like the very spirit of music. On the fifth of the fifth month* of a certain year he was dancing in a boat, and being quite intoxicated, fell overboard and drowned. His daughter, Cao E, then fourteen years old, was greatly distressed and wept by the river bank for seven days and nights. Then she threw herself into the waves, and five days later she floated to the surface with her father’s body in her arms. The villagers buried them on the bank, and the magistrate reported the whole thing to the Emperor as a worthy instance of daughterly affection and remarkable piety. Afterwards, the magistrate asked Handan Chun to record the event in writing and had the essay inscribed. At that time Handan Chun was only thirteen, but the composition was so perfect that no rewriting was necessary. The stele was set up beside the grave, and both the inscription and the story were admired by the people of the time. When my father heard about it he went to see it. As it was evening, he could not see the words but in the gloom he felt out the inscription with his fingers. Then he asked for a writing brush and wrote eight large characters on the reverse of the stone tablet and, later, when people recut the stone, they engraved these eight words as well.
Cao Cao then read the eight words, which literally read: “Yellow silk, young lady, a daughter’s child, pestle and mortar.”
“Can you explain?” asked Cao Cao of his hostess.
“No, I cannot. Although it is a writing of my father’s, I do not really understand it,” she replied.
Turning to the strategists in his staff, Cao Cao asked, “Can any of you explain it?”
At first none of them could come up with an interpretation. Then a man stood out and said he had fathomed its meaning. He was Yang Xiu.
“Do not tell me yet,” said Cao Cao. “Let me think it out.”
Soon after, they took leave of the lady and resumed their journey. About three li from the farm the meaning of the eight words suddenly dawned upon Cao Cao, and he, smiling, turned to Yang Xiu, saying, “Now, you may tell me.”
“These eight words form a riddle,” said Yang Xiu. “In ‘Yellow silk’, yellow stands for ‘color,’ and the two characters for ‘silk’ and ‘color’ together form a word meaning ‘decidedly.’ In ‘young lady,’ the word ‘young’ with the word ‘lady’ beside it forms another word, meaning ‘fine.’ Similarly, the combination of ‘daughter’ and ‘child’ makes the word ‘well.’ And lastly, ‘pestle and mortar’ suggest pounding together the five bitter herbs in a receptacle: the characters for ‘receptacle’ and ‘bitter’ form a word meaning ‘to tell.’ So the solution of the riddle is, ‘Decidedly fine and well told.’”
Cao Cao was astonished at his cleverness, and said, “That’s just what I make of it.”
All those present greatly admired Yang Xiu’s knowledge and quick wit.
Soon they reached Nanzheng, where Cao Hong welcomed them. He told Cao Cao about Zhang He’s defeats by the enemy.
“That is not his fault,” said Cao Cao, “Defeats and victories are but common in war.”
“Liu Bei has sent Huang Zhong to attack Mount Dingjun,” said Cao Hong. “Xiahou Yuan, hearing of your coming, has been defending the position and not going out to give battle.”
“But to be on the defensive is to show cowardice,” objected Cao Cao.
Therefore he sent a messenger with a jie* to the mountain commander ordering him to attack the enemy.
“Xiahou Yuan
is sometimes too unyielding, and he should be warned against possible enemy ruses,” said Liu Ye.
Cao Cao then sent a letter to accompany the jie. And when the messenger arrived at Xiahou Yuan’s camp the letter was opened. It read:
Every leader must exercise a combination of firmness and yielding, but not rely on boldness alone. A bold fighter is good only in dealing with one enemy. Now I am camped at Nanzheng ready to watch your “ingenious talents,” and all I require of you is, “Do not fail my expectations.”
The letter pleased the commander very much. Having sent away the messenger he called in Zhang He for consultation.
“The prince has a great army at Nanzheng ready to destroy Liu Bei. We’ve been on the defense here long enough, and it’s time we rendered some substantial service. Tomorrow I’m going out to battle, and I must capture Huang Zhong alive.”
“Huang Zhong is both resourceful and brave,” said Zhang He. “Besides, he has Fa Zheng to advise him and you really must be cautious. The hills here are difficult and dangerous, suitable for firm defense.”
“How will we be able to look our prince in the face when other people have rendered good services? You may hold the hill, and I’ll go out to battle.”
Then he turned to his men and asked, “Who’ll go out to reconnoiter and incite a battle?” His nephew Xiahou Shang volunteered.
His uncle said to him, “When you go out to fight Huang Zhong I want you to lose and not to win. I have a very good plan ready for the enemy.” He then explained his plan to Xiahou Shang, who took the instruction and went away with 3,000 men.
Now Huang Zhong and his comrade, Fa Zheng, were camped in a valley of Mount Dingjun. They had been endeavoring to entice Xiahou Yuan out into the field to fight, but so far had not been successful. They would have liked to attack him but, apprehensive of the precipitous mountain roads, dared not do so. So they had not advanced. That day, when scouts came to report that Cao Cao’s men had come down from the hill to offer battle, Huang Zhong was ready to march out to meet them at once. But a minor officer named Chen Shi offered himself.
“Do not trouble yourself, General,” said Chen Shi. “Let me go out to fight them.”
Delighted with the offer, Huang Zhong consented, and placed one thousand men under Chen Shi, who went out of the valley and deployed his army. Presently Xiahou Shang came up and, as arranged, merely fought a few bouts and ran away. Chen Shi followed but was soon brought to a standstill by the falling of logs and stones from the hills on both sides. As he hastened to turn back, Xiahou Yuan suddenly emerged from behind and attacked. Chen Shi had no chance against them and was quickly made prisoner. Many of his men surrendered to the enemy, but a few escaped to their own camp and told Huang Zhong of the defeat.
Huang Zhong at once consulted Fa Zheng, who said, “This Xiahou Yuan is easily provoked to anger, and he relies more on his boldness than discretion. Our plan now is to first raise the fighting spirit of our men, then break camp and advance stage by stage, entrenching ourselves at every step. In this way we’ll provoke our enemy to battle, when we can capture him. This tactic is known as ‘Turning the guest into the host.’”
Huang Zhong took his advice. He distributed all the things in the camp among his men, whose rejoicing filled the whole valley. They vowed to fight to death in battle. Then camp was broken, and the army marched forward a certain distance. Then they made a temporary camp, where they stayed for a few days for rest. The maneuver was repeated.
When tidings of the enemy’s advance reached Xiahou Yuan, he proposed to go out and fight. “This is a well-known ruse called ‘Turning the guest into the host’,” said Zhang He. “And you should remain on the defensive. You‘ll lose if you fight.”
Xiahou Yuan was not the man to tolerate cautious advice, so he sent out Xiahou Shang to give battle. As soon as this force reached Huang Zhong’s camp, he mounted and rode out to fight. In the very first bout he captured Xiahou Shang. Those who escaped told the news to their commander, and Xiahou Yuan at once proposed an exchange of prisoners. This was agreed to, and the exchange was to be effected the following day in front of both armies.
So the next day both sides were arrayed in a spot where the valley widened, the two leaders on horseback beneath their respective standards. Beside each stood his prisoner. Both captives wore thin clothes to cover their bodies, without robes or armor. At the first beat of the drum each started to run back to his own side. But just as Xiahou Shang reached the ranks of his own side, Huang Zhong shot an arrow and wounded him in the back. The victim managed to return to his side, still carrying the arrow in his back.
Xiahou Yuan, mad with rage, could contain himself no longer. He galloped straight at Huang Zhong to engage him, which was exactly what the latter wanted to provoke him into doing. The fight went on for a score of bouts, when suddenly gongs clanged out from Xiahou Yuan’s side and he hastily drew off, losing some men while doing so. When he reached his own side he asked why the gong had sounded.
“Because we saw the banners of Shu on several parts of the hill and we were afraid there might be an ambush.”
Believing this must be the case, Xiahou Yuan decided to maintain a strict defense. Before long, Huang Zhong had got to the foot of the mountain, and he again asked his comrade for advice.
Fa Zheng, pointing to the hills around, said, “There is a steep hill to the west of this one, difficult to access, but from its summit one has a complete view of the defenses of the enemy. If you can take that eminence, Mount Dingjun lies in the palm of your hand.”
Huang Zhong looked up and saw that the top of the unknown hill was a small plateau and it was guarded by just a few men. So that evening at the second watch he led his men to dash up the hill, drove out the small force there, and captured their camp. It was just opposite Mount Dingjun.
Fa Zheng said, “General, you take up a position halfway up the hill, and I’ll go to the top. When the enemy appears I’ll show a white flag. But don’t rush into battle. Wait quietly till the enemy becomes dull with inaction, and at that point I’ll hoist a red flag. That’ll be the signal for attack.”
Pleased, Huang Zhong prepared this plan. In the meantime, the men who had been driven from the hilltop had reported the loss to Xiahou Yuan.
“With Huang Zhong occupying that hill, I simply must give battle,” he said in wrath.
Zhang He was strongly opposed to this, saying the whole thing was a ruse of Fa Zheng’s, but Xiahou Yuan was obstinate.
“From the top of that hill the whole of our position is visible, our strengths as well as our weaknesses. How can I not fight?”
In vain did Zhang He try to dissuade him. Xiahou Yuan set out his men to surround the hill and then began to vent his rage at his enemy in an attempt to incite him to give battle.
At the top of the hill Fa Zheng hoisted the white flag and Xiahou Yuan was allowed to fume and rage in vain. He tried every form of insult, but Huang Zhong ignored them all. In the afternoon the men became weary and dispirited, obviously losing their eagerness to fight. Seeing this, Fa Zheng unfurled the red flag.
Instantly drums rolled, horns blew, and men shouted till the earth seemed to shake as the hoary warrior rode out ahead of his men, down the hill with the momentum of a landslide. Xiahou Yuan, caught unawares, was totally unprepared for this sudden onslaught. Before he could defend himself Huang Zhong had rushed to his standard, and with a thundering roar, raised his sword and cleft Xiahou Yuan through the head and shoulders so that he fell in two pieces.
A poem was written to praise the veteran general:
Hoary headed is he, but he goes out to battle;
Gray haired, yet fearlessly mighty;
With his strong arms he bends the bow,
The arrows fly.
With the swiftness of the wind he rides,
The white sword gleams.
The sound of his voice is as the roar of a tiger,
His steed is swift as a dragon in flight.
Victory is his and its
rich rewards,
For he extends the domain of his lord.
At the death of their commander, the soldiers fled for their lives. On the back of this victory Huang Zhong went on to capture Mount Dingjun. Zhang He came out to oppose him, but, attacked at two points by Huang Zhong and Chen Shi, he lost the day and fled. However, before he had gone far, another force blazed out from the hillside and barred his way. Their leader cried: “This is Zhao Zi-long ( Zhao Yun) of Changshan!”
Terrified, Zhang He led his men to flee back to Mount Dingjun. But on the way he met a body of his own men, who told him that the hill had fallen into the hands of Liu Feng and Meng Da. This was another severe blow to Zhang He. With nowhere else to turn he escaped to the Han River, where a temporary camp was pitched and the terrible tidings were dispatched to Cao Cao.
At the news of the death of his favorite general, Cao Cao burst into loud wailing. And then he remembered the four lines the soothsayer, Guan Lu, had said and began to see their hidden meaning. The first line, Three-eight crosswise, meant that the time was the twenty-fourth year of the period Jian An; the second line, The yellow boar meets the tiger, narrowed the time further down to the first month of the year of the pig; the third line, South of Dingjun, referred to the south of Mount Dingjun; and the last line, Loss of one limb, indicated the brotherly relationship between Xiahou Yuan and himself.
Cao Cao sent people to inquire the whereabouts of Guan Lu, but he was nowhere to be found.
Cao Cao hated Huang Zhong intensely, and so he himself led his army toward Mount Dingjun to avenge the death of his cousin Xiahou Yuan. Xu Huang led the van. The army presently reached the Han River, where it was joined by Zhang He and his men.
Zhang He said to Cao Cao, “Now that this position is lost we must move the supplies in the Micang Mountain to the north before advancing farther.” Cao Cao agreed and Zhang He was ordered to remove the grain to the safer place.
Huang Zhong cut off the head of Xiahou Yuan and took it to Liu Bei to claim his victory. For his service he was rewarded with the title General-Conqueror of the West, and banquets were given in his honor.