Romance of the three kin.., p.77
Romance of the Three Kingdoms II, page 77
Fu reviled him as ungrateful and treacherous, but that did no good. He turned to go once more into the battle. He was soon surrounded. He fought desperately, but could not win clear. His men fell one by one, and when they were reduced to about half a score he cried, “Alive I have been a servant of Shu; dead I will be one of their spirits.”
He forced his way into the thickest of the fight. Then his steed fell, and as he was grievously wounded he put an end to his own life.
The loyalty Fu showed in stressful days
Won him a thousand autumns’ noble praise;
The base Chiang Shu lived on, a life disgraced,
l would prefer the death that Fu Ch’ien faced.
With the pass fell into the hands of Chung great booty of grain and weapons. He feasted the army, and that night they rested in Yangan City. However, the night was disturbed by sounds as of men shouting, so that the leader got up and went out thinking there must be an attack. But the sounds ceased, and he returned to his couch. However, he slept no more.
Next night the same thing happened, shoutings in the southwest. As soon as day dawned scouts went out to search, but they came back to say they had gone ten li and found no sign of any person. Chung did not feel satisfied, so he took a few cavalrymen and rode in the same direction to explore. Presently they happened upon a hill of sinister aspect overhung by a dismal cloud, while the summit was wreathed in mist.
“What hill is that?” asked Chung, pulling up to question the guides.
“It is known as TingChunshan, The hill of the Halted Army,’” was the reply. “It is where Hsiahou Yuan met his death.”
This did not sound cheering at all, and Chung turned back to camp greatly depressed. Rounding the curve of a hill, he came full into a violent gust of wind and there suddenly appeared a large body of horse coming down the wind as if to attack.
The whole party galloped off panic-stricken, Chung leading the way. Many captains fell from their steeds. Yet when they arrived at the pass not a man was missing, although there were many with bruises and cuts from the falls and many had lost helmets. Everyone had seen phantom horsemen, who did no harm when they came near, but melted away in the wind.
Chung Hui called Chiang Shu and asked if there was any temple to any supernatural being on TingChunshan.
“No,” replied he; “there is nothing but the tomb of Chuko Liang.”
“Then this must have been a manifestation of the noble Chuko,” said Chung. “I ought to sacrifice to him.”
So he prepared presents and slew an ox and offered sacrifice at the tomb, and when the sacrifice had been completed the wind calmed, and the dark clouds dispersed. There followed a cool breeze and a gentle shower, and the sky cleared. Pleased with the evidence of the acceptance of their offerings, the sacrificial party returned to camp.
That night Chung fell asleep in his tent with his head resting on a small table. Suddenly a cool breeze began to blow, and he saw a figure approaching clad in Taoist garb, turban, feather fan, white robe of Taoist cut bound with a black girdle. The countenance of the figure was pale and refined, the lips a deep red and the eyes clear. The figure moved with the calm serenity of a god.
“Who are you, Sir?” asked Chung, rising.
“Out of gratitude for your kindly visit this morning, I would make a communication. Though the Hans have declined and the mandate of the Eternal cannot be disobeyed, yet the people of the west, exposed to the inevitable miseries of war, are to be pitied. After you have passed the frontier do not slay ruthlessly.”
Then the figure disappeared with a flick of the sleeves of its robe, nor would it stay to answer any questions.
Chung awoke and knew that he had been dreaming, but he felt that the spirit of the great Marquis of War had visited him, and he was astonished.
He issued an order that the leading division of his army should bear a white flag with four words plainly written thereon, “Secure state, comfort people,” so that all might know that no violence was to be feared. If anyone was slain wantonly, then the offender should pay with his own life. This tender care was greatly appreciated, so that the invaders were welcomed. Chung Hui soothed the people, and they suffered no injury.
Those phantom armies circling in the gloom
Moved Chung to sacrifice at Chuko’s tomb;
For Liu had Chuko wrought unto the end,
Though dead, he would Liu’s People still defend.
Chiang Wei at MiaoChung heard of the invasion and wrote to his three Captains to march against the enemy, while he prepared to repulse them if they came to his station.
Soon they came, and he went out to encounter them. Their leader was the Prefect of T’ienshui, Wang Ch’i by name. When near enough, Wang shouted, “Our forces are numbered by millions, our captains by thousands. Twenty legions are marching against you, and Ch’engtu has already fallen. In spite of this you do not yield, wherefore it is evident you do not recognise the divine command.”
Chiang Wei cut short this tirade by galloping out with his spear set. Wang stood three bouts and then fled. Chiang pursued, but a score of li away he met a cohort drawn up across the road. On the banner he read that the leader was Ch’ien Hung, Prefect of Shensi.
Despising this antagonist, he led his men straight on, and the enemy fell back. He drove them before him for some distance, and then came upon Teng Ai. A battle at once began, and the lust of battle held out in the breast of Chiang for a score of bouts.
But neither could overbear the other. Then in the rear arose the clang of gongs and other signs of coming foes. Chiang retired the way he had come, and presently one came to report the destruction of his camps at Kansung.
This was evil tidings. He bade his lieutenants keep his own standard flying and hold Teng while he went to try to recover the camps. On the way he met Yang Hsin, the worker of mischief, but Yang had no stomach for a fight with Chiang and made for the hills. Chiang followed till he came to a precipice down which the enemy were hurling boulders and logs of wood so that he could not pass.
He turned to go back to the battlefield he had just left, but on the way he met the army of Wei, for Teng had overcome his lieutenants. He was surrounded, but presently got clear with a sudden rush and hastened to the great camp.
Next came news of the loss of Yangp’ing Pass and the treachery of Chiang Shu and the death of Fu Ch’ien. The messenger added that HanChung was now in the possession of Wei, and Loch’eng and Hanch’eng had also opened their gates and yielded to the invaders. Hu Ch’i had gone to the capital for help.
This greatly troubled Chiang, so he broke camp and set out for the frontier. An army barred his way, and again he was forced to fight, this time with Yang Hsin. Chiang rode out in a great rage, and as Yang fled he shot at him thrice, but his arrows missed.
Throwing aside his bow, he gripped his spear and set off in pursuit, but his horse tripped and fell, and Chiang lay on the ground. Yang turned to slay his enemy now that he was on foot, but Chiang wounded Yang’s horse in the head. Others coming up rescued Yang.
Mounting another steed, Chiang was just setting out again in pursuit when they reported that Teng Ai was coming against his rear. Realising that he could not cope with this new force, Chiang collected his men in order to retreat into HanChung. However, the scouts reported another army in the way holding Yinp’ing Bridge, so he halted and made a camp in the mountains. Advance and retreat seemed equally impossible, and he cried in anguish, “Heaven is destroying me!”
Then said Ning Sui, one of his captains, “If our enemies are guarding Yinp’ing Bridge they can only have left a weak force in Yungchou. We can make believe to be going thither through the K’unghan Valley and so force them to abandon the bridge in order to protect the city. When the bridge is clear, you can make a dash for Chienko and hold out there while the army retires into HanChung.”
This plan seemed to promise success, so they marched into the valley, making as though they would go to Yungchou.
When Chuko Hsu, who was at the bridge, heard this he was afraid that his own city, and his headquarters, would be lost and that he would be punished, so he set off to its relief by the south road. He left only a small force at the bridge.
Chiang marched along the north road till he guessed that Chuko Hsun had abandoned the bridge, when he retraced his steps. He dispersed the small force left at the bridge head and burned their camp. Chuko, as he marched, saw the flames, and he turned back to the bridge, but he arrived too late. The army of Shu had already crossed, and he dared not pursue.
Soon after Chiang crossed the bridge he saw another force, but this was led by his own captains, Chang and Liao. They told him that Huang Hao, firm in his faith in the wise woman, would not send help to defend the frontiers. They had come on their own initiative. They also reported the capture of Yangp’ing Pass.
The two armies amalgamated and marched together.
Liao Hua said, “We are attacked all round, and it seems to me wisest to retire on Chienko.”
But Chiang Wei was doubtful. Then they heard that enemies were approaching in ten divisions. Chiang was disposed to stand, but Liao Hua said the country was too difficult to fight in with any hope of success, and again urged the wisdom of falling back on Chienko.
At last Chiang Wei consented, and the march began. But as they neared the town they heard drums rolling and saw flags fluttering, which told them that the pass was held.
HanChung, that strong defence is lost,
And storm clouds gather round Chienko.
What force was at the pass will be told in the next chapter.
CHAPTER CXVII
TENG GETS THROUGH YINP’ING PASS:
CHUKO DIES AT MIENCHU
The soldiers, whose coming had at first alarmed Chiang Wei, were, however, from his own country, part of a force brought to the frontier by Tung Chueh when he heard of the invasion from Wei. Two legions had been sent to Chienko, and when the dust showed an approaching army he thought it wise to go to the Pass lest the coming men should be enemies to be stopped.
When Tung found that the newcomers were friends, he let them pass through and gave them the news from the capital, bad news of the deeds of both the king and the eunuch-favourite.
“But do not grieve,” said Chiang Wei, “so long as I live I will not allow Wei to come and conquer Shu.”
They kept good guard at Chienko while they discussed future plans.
“Though we are holding this pass, yet Ch’engtu is well-nigh empty of soldiers,” said Tung Chueh. “If it was attacked it would go crack!”
Chiang Wei replied, “The natural defences are excellent; it is hard to cross over the mountains and climb the steep roads. No one need fear.”
Soon after this, Chuko Hsu appeared at the pass challenging the defenders. Chiang Wei forthwith placed himself at the head of a half legion and went down to meet him. He gained an easy victory, slaying many of the enemy and taking much spoil in horses and weapons.
While Chiang went back to the pass, the defeated general made his way to Chung Hui’s camp to confess his failure. His general was very angry.
“My orders to you were to hold Yinp’ing Bridge so as to stop Chiang Wei, and you lost it. Now without any orders you attack and are defeated.”
“Chiang Wei played so many deceitful tricks. He pretended to be going to take Yungchou, and I thought that was very important, so I sent troops to rescue it. Then he meanly got away. I followed to the pass, but never thought he would come out and defeat my men.”
Chuko pleaded thus, but he was sentenced to die. Now Chuko was really a subordinate of Teng Ai and, admitting that he was in fault, his punishment should not have been pronounced by Chung Hui. But when Wei Kuan mentioned that as a reason for reprieve, Chung Hui swaggeringly replied, “I have a command from the Emperor and orders from the Prime Minister to attack Shu; if Teng Ai himself offended I would behead him.”
However, in spite of these big words, he did not put Chuko to death, but sent him a prisoner to the capital to be judged. The surviving men were added to Chung Hui’s army.
This insolent speech of Chung Hui was duly repeated to Teng Ai, who was angry in his turn and said, “His rank and mine are the same. I have held a frontier post for years and sustained many fatigues in the country’s service. Who is he that he gives himself such airs?”
His son Chung endeavoured to appease his wrath. “Father, if you cannot suffer small things you may upset the grand policy of the state. Unfriendliness with him may do great harm, so I hope you will bear with him.”
Teng Ai saw he was right, and said no more; but he nourished anger in his heart. With a small escort he went to call upon his colleague. When his coming was announced, Chung Hui asked his staff how many men were following Teng Ai.
“He has only half a score of horsemen,” they replied.
Chung Hui had a large body of men drawn up about his tent, and then gave orders that his visitor should be led in. Teng Ai dismounted, and the two men saluted each other. But the visitor did not like the look on the faces of his host’s guard. He decided to find out what Chung Hui was thinking.
“The capture of HanChung is a piece of excellent fortune for the state,” said he. “The capture of Chienko can now be accomplished easily.”
“What is your own idea, General?” asked Chung Hui.
Teng Ai tried to evade answering the question, but could not. Chung Hui pressed him to reply. Finally he said, “In my simple opinion one might proceed by byroads from the pass through HanChung to Yangt’ing, and thence make a surprise march. Chiang Wei must go to its defence, and you, General, can take Chienko.”
“A very good plan,” said Chung Hui. “You may start forthwith, and I will wait here till I hear news of your success.”
They drank, and Teng took his leave. Chung Hui went back to his own tent filled with contempt for Teng’s plan, which he thought impracticable.
‘They say Teng Ai is able; I think he is of most ordinary capacity,” said he to his officers.
“But why?” said they.
“Because the byroads by Yinp’ing are impassable, nothing but lofty mountains and steep hills. A hundred defenders at a critical point could cut all communications, and Teng Ai’s men would starve to death. I shall go by the direct road, and there is no fear about the result. I shall overcome Shu.”
So he prepared sealing ladders and ballistae and set himself to besiege Chienko.
Teng Ai went out to the main gate of the court. While mounting, he said to his followers, “What did Chung Hui think of me?”
“He looked as though he held a poor opinion of what you had said, General, and disagreed with you, although his words were fair enough.”
“He thinks I cannot take Ch’engtu; and so I will take it.”
He was received at his own camp by Shih Tsuan and his son, and a party of others of his captains, and they asked what the conversation had been about.
“I told him simple truth, but he thinks I am just a common person of no ability to speak of. He regards the capture of HanChung as an incomparable feat of arms. Where would he have been if I had not held up Chiang Wei? But I think the capture of Ch’engtu will beat that of HanChung.”
That night camp was broken up, and they set out upon a march of seven hundred li along the hill paths. At that distance from Chienko they were to make a permanent camp. Chung Hui laughed at the attempt.
From his camp Teng Ai sent a secret letter to Ssuma Chao. Then he called his officers to his tent and asked them, saying, “I am going to make a dash for Ch’engtu while it is still undefended, and success will mean unfading glory for us all. Will you follow me?”
“We will follow you and obey your orders,” cried they all.
So the final dispositions were made. Teng Chung went first to improve the road. His men wore no armour, but they had axes and boring tools. They were to level roads and build bridges.
Next went three legions furnished with dry grain and ropes. At every three hundred li they were to make a post of three companies.
In the autumn they left Yinp’ing, and in the tenth month they were in most precipitous country. They had taken twenty-seven days to travel seven hundred li. They were in an uninhabited country. After garrisoning the various posts on the way, they had only two companies left. Before them stood a range named Mot’ien Ling, which no horse could ascend. Teng Ai climbed up on foot to see his son and the men with him opening up a road. They were exhausted with fatigue and weeping.
Teng Ai asked why they were so sad, and his son replied, “We have found an impassable precipice away to the northwest which we cannot get through. All our labour has been in vain.”
Teng Ai said, “We have got over seven hundred li and just beyond is Chiangyu: we cannot go back. How can one get tiger cubs except by going into tiger caves? Here we are, and it will be a very great feat to capture Ch’engtu.”
They all said they would go on. So they came to the precipice. First they threw over their weapons; then the leader wrapped himself in blankets and rolled over the edge, next the captains followed him, also wrapped in blankets. Those who had not blankets were let down by cords round the waist and others clinging to trees followed one after another till all had descended and the Mot’ien Ling was passed. Then they retook their armour and weapons and went on their way.
They came across a stone by the roadside. It bore a mysterious inscription composed by Chuko Liang. Translated literally it read:—
“Two fires first set out,
Men pass by here,
Two soldiers compete
Both soon die.”
Teng Ai was perplexed. Presently he bowed before the stone and prayed to the spirit of Chuko Liang.
“O Marquis, immortal. I grieve that I am not thy worthy disciple.”
The rugged lofty mountain peaks
Of Yinp’ing, pierce the sky,
The sombre crane with wearied wing
Can scarcely o’er them fly.
Intrepid Teng in blankets wrapped
Rolled down the craggy steep,
