The Three Kingdoms Volume 2 (70 page)

“My orders are to hold this point,” he shouted. “We mustn’t abandon the ship.”

However, as the wind increased its force, the ship capsized, throwing the loyal and bold Dong Xi into the river, and he was drowned. In the meantime, his colleague Xu Sheng was still dashing hither and thither among Li Dian’s men, slaying right and left.

Chen Wu, who was patrolling along the bank, heard the noise of battle and set out to join the fight. On his way he encountered Pang De and his army. A melee ensued between the two troops. Soon news reached Sun Quan, who at once rushed out with Zhou Tai and their men to assist.

There he saw Xu Sheng with his small force from the ships fighting a confused battle with Li Dian and his men. So Sun Quan gave the signal for his troops to go to their aid. Unexpectedly, he was himself surrounded by Zhang Liao and Xu Huang, and soon in desperate straits. From a high point Cao Cao saw his opponent in difficulties, and thought it was his chance to destroy him. So he immediately sent Xu Chu to split Sun Quan’s army in two so that neither half could aid the other.

When Zhou Tai had cut his way out of the enemy encirclement and reached the riverside, he looked for his master. But Sun Quan was nowhere visible, so he dashed once again into the thick of the battle. Coming to his own men, he asked them where Sun Quan was. They pointed to where the encirclement was most dense. Zhou Tai stiffened and dashed in. Presently he reached his lord’s side and cried out, “My lord, follow me and I will cut a way through.”

Zhou Tai mustered all his energy and finally fought his way to the riverbank. Then he turned to look back, and to his great dismay Sun Quan was not behind him. So he turned back a second time, and fought his way to his master’s side.

“I cannot get out—the arrows are too thick,” said Sun Quan. “What can we do?”

“This time you go in front, my lord, and I will follow.”

Sun Quan then rode in front and Zhou Tai followed, protecting him from being harmed by enemies from all around, ignoring the many wounds he suffered and the arrows that penetrated his armor. At last he got clear and Sun Quan was safe. As they reached the riverbank, Lu Meng came up with a naval force and escorted Sun Quan down to a ship.

“I owe my safety to Zhou Tai, who thrice came to my aid,” said Sun Quan. “But Xu Sheng is still in the thick of the fight—how can we save him?”

“I will go to his rescue,” cried Zhou Tai.

Taking his spear, Zhou Tai again plunged into the battle and finally brought his colleague to safety. Both were severely wounded.

From the shore, Lu Meng ordered his men to keep up a rapid flight of arrows to discourage any pursuers, and in this way the two officers were able to get on board the ships.

Now Chen Wu had been engaged in fighting with Pang De. Being inferior in force and without reinforcements, Chen Wu was pursued into a valley where the trees and undergrowth were very dense. When he tried to turn around and defend himself, his coat sleeve was caught by the branches, and while so entangled he was killed by Pang De.

Seeing that Sun Quan had escaped, Cao Cao himself led the pursuit to the riverbank, where he ordered his men to shoot at the enemy ships. By this time Lu Meng’s men had run out of arrows, but just as they were getting very anxious about what to do, a fleet of ships appeared, led by Lu Xun, son-in-law of Sun Ce. This very large force drove back Cao Cao’s men with a fresh flight of arrows. Following up his advantage, he landed to pursue the fleeing enemy troops, capturing thousands of horses and slaying many men, so that in the end it was Cao Cao who was defeated and had to retreat.

Then they sought and found the body of Chen Wu among the slain. Sun Quan was grieved beyond measure when he learned that Chen Wu had been killed and Dong Xi drowned. He sent his men to search for Dong Xi’s body in the river, which at last was found. Both officers were buried with great honors.

Grateful for Zhou Tai rescuing him, Sun Quan gave a banquet in honor of his loyal servant, during which he poured a goblet of wine for the warrior, and with tears streaming down his cheeks, gently stroked his wounded back.

“Twice you saved my life, careless of your own,” he said. “You have received so many wounds that your back seems to be engraved and painted. Isn’t it but natural that I should treat you as one of my own flesh and blood? And entrust you with the command of my army? You are my meritorious general and I will share with you both glory and disgrace, joy and sorrow.”

Then he asked Zhou Tai to take off his robe and show his wounds to all those assembled at the banquet hall. Long deep cuts sprawled all over his body as if his flesh and skin had been scored with a knife. Sun Quan pointed to the wounds, one after another, and asked the brave warrior how each one had been inflicted. And, as Zhou Tai related the stories of his cuts and slashes, for every wound he suffered Sun Quan made him drink a goblet of wine as a reward till he became thoroughly intoxicated. Sun Quan then rewarded him with a green silk umbrella and let him show it wherever he went out as a sign of the glory that was his.

At Ruxu the battle continued but at the end of a month neither side could win a final victory.

Then Zhang Zhao and Gu Yong went to see their master, to whom they said: “Cao Cao is too strong and we cannot overcome him by mere force. If the struggle should prolong you would only lose more men. It is better to seek peace so as to pacify the people.”

Sun Quan followed this advice and sent an envoy on a peace mission to Cao Cao’s camp, pledging to yield an annual tribute. Knowing that the south was too strong to be overcome in a short time, Cao Cao consented. But he insisted that Sun Quan should withdraw first before his departure for the capital. The envoy returned with this message, and so Sun Quan left for his headquarters in Moling with the greater part of his army, leaving only Zhou Tai and Jiang Qin to hold Ruxu. Afterwards, Cao Cao left Cao Ren and Zhang Liao in charge of Hefei, while he set off for the capital.

Shortly after his return, all the civil and military officials of the court began to talk about his promotion as Prince of Wei. Only Minister Cui Yan spoke strongly against this.

“Have you forgotten the fate of Xun Yu,” warned his colleagues.

“Such times! Such deeds!” cried Cui Yan in a rage. “But this is rebellion and I will have no part in it!”

An enemy of his told Cao Cao of his words, and Cui Yan was thrown into prison. At his trial he glared like a tiger and his very beard curled with contempt—he kept cursing Cao Cao as a wicked rebel who’d betrayed his Emperor. The interrogating magistrate reported his conduct to Cao Cao, who ordered Cui Yan to be beaten to death in prison.

In the fifth month of the twenty-first year of the period of Jian An (
A.D.
216), a memorial signed by the court officials was presented to Emperor Xian, proposing that Cao Cao be granted the title of prince for his manifest merits and signal services to the state, exceeding those rendered by any minister before him. The memorial was approved, and a draft edict was prepared. Thrice Cao Cao with seeming modesty pretended to decline the honor, but thrice was his refusal rejected. Finally he made his obeisance and was bestowed the title of “Prince of Wei.” To match his new status he was given special privileges, which included a headdress with twelve strings of beads; a chariot with gilt shafts drawn by six steeds; the use of the imperial carriage with all its pomp and dignity, while the roads were cleared whenever the carriage passed along. A palace was also to be built at Yejun for his use.

Then he began to discuss the appointment of an heir apparent. His first wife, of the Ding family, was without child, but a concubine had borne him a son, Cao Ang, who had been killed in battle when he was at war with Zhang Xiu. A second concubine, of the Bian family, had borne him four sons: Pi, Zhang, Zhi, and Xiong. Therefore he elevated her to the rank of princess-consort in place of Lady Ding. The third son, Zhi, also known as Zi-Jian, was a very talented young man and a fine writer. Cao Cao intended to name him as his heir. The eldest son, Cao Pi, afraid that he might be denied his right of primogeniture, sought advice from Jia Xu, who taught him how to win his father’s heart. Thereafter, when bidding farewell to his father before he went on military expeditions, Cao Pi would weep so copiously that the courtiers present were all deeply affected; while his brother Cao Zhi would extol his father’s merits and virtue in refined language.

Noting the difference in the behavior of his two sons, Cao Cao began to think that the third son was perhaps too crafty and not as devoted to him as his eldest son. Furthermore, Cao Pi also bought over his father’s immediate attendants, who then tried their best to praise his virtue to their master. But Cao Cao was still undecided as to which of the two to name as his heir and he brought the matter to his trusted advisor Jia Xu.

“I would like to name my heir—who do you think is more suitable?”

Jia Xu did not reply, and Cao Cao asked him why.

“I was just recalling something in the past and could not reply at once,” said Jia Xu.

“What was on your mind?”

“I was thinking of Yuan Shao and Liu Biao and their sons.”

Cao Cao laughed, for he had taken the hint in Jia Xu’s answer. Soon after this, he declared his eldest son his heir.

In the tenth month the construction of the palace for the new Prince of Wei was completed and the furnishing began. Rare flowers and uncommon trees from all parts of the land were collected to beautify the gardens of the palace. One agent was sent to Wu and saw Sun Quan, to whom he presented Cao Cao’s letter requesting that he be allowed to proceed to Wenzhou to get oranges. At that time, Sun Quan was trying to win Cao Cao’s favor, so from the orange trees in his own city he picked forty
dan
*
of very fine fruit and sent them immediately to Yejun.

On the way, the weary bearers of the oranges stopped at the foot of a hill to have a rest. There came along an elderly man, blind in one eye and lame in one leg, who wore a Taoist headdress of white rattan and a black loose robe. He saluted the bearers and stayed to talk.

“Your must be weary carrying these heavy burdens,” he said. “Let me help each of you carry a while. What do you say?”

Naturally they were very pleased, and the amiable Taoist bore each load for five
li
. To their great surprise they found that their burdens became lighter after the Taoist had carried them. Before he left the Taoist said to the man in charge of the party, “I am from the same village as the Prince of Wei. My name is Zuo Ci and my Taoist appellation is Black Horn. When you see the prince you can tell him that I, Zuo Ci, send him my regards.”

With a flick of his sleeves he went away. In due course the orange bearers reached the new palace and the oranges were presented. But when Cao Cao peeled one open he found it was just an empty shell—there was no pulp beneath the rind. Cao Cao, shocked at this, called in the bearers, who told him of the mysterious Taoist they met on the way. Cao Cao, however, did not believe their words.

But just then the gatekeeper came in to tell him that a Taoist called Zuo Ci wished to see him.

“Send him in,” said Cao Cao.

“He is the man we met on the way,” said the bearers when the Taoist appeared.

Cao Cao said curtly, “What sorcery have you been exercising on my beautiful fruit?”

“How could such a thing happen?” said the Taoist with a laugh.

Then he cut open several oranges and showed them to be full of pulp, most delicious to the taste. But when Cao Cao cut open the oranges they were again devoid of any pulp.

Cao Cao was more perplexed than ever. He allowed his visitor to be seated and inquired of the reason. Zuo Ci asked for wine and meat, which were then brought before him. The Taoist ate ravenously, consuming a whole sheep, and drank five
dou
*
of wine. Yet he showed no sign of being excessively stuffed or drunk.

“By what magic is this?” asked Cao Cao.

“I once went into the Emei Mountains
^†
where I studied the Way of Taoism for thirty long years. One day I heard my name called from out of the rocky wall of my cave. I looked, but could see no one. The same thing happened for several days. Then suddenly one day, with a roar like thunder, the wall split asunder, and I saw a sacred book in three volumes called
The Supreme Book of Magic
. From the first volume I learned to ascend to the clouds astride the wind, and to sail up into the great void itself; from the second to pass through mountains and penetrate rocks; from the third, to become invisible at will or change my shape while traveling over the four seas, and to decapitate a man from a distance with a flying sword or dagger. Your Highness has reached the acme of glory—why not withdraw from your position now and come with me to the Emei Mountains to learn the Taoist wisdom? I will bequeath my three volumes to you.”

“Often have I reflected upon this course but what can I do? There is no one to maintain the government,” replied Cao Cao.

“There is Liu Bei, a scion of the imperial family. Why not make way for him?” said Zuo Ci. “If you do not, I will send my flying sword after your head.”

“So you are one of his spies,” said Cao Cao, suddenly enraged.

He ordered his guards to seize him, but the Taoist only laughed. And he continued to laugh as they dragged him down and beat him cruelly. But when they looked at their victim they found him sound asleep, as if he felt no pain whatsoever.