The Three Kingdoms, Volume 3: Welcome the Tiger: The Epic Chinese Tale of Loyalty and War in a Dynamic New Translation (21 page)

As soon as Lu Xun heard that it was Zhao Yun who had appeared, he ordered the retreat. Zhao Yun came upon Zhu Ran, whom he slew with his spear in the first encounter. The men of Wu dispersed and retreated, and the First Ruler proceeded toward the city of Baidi.

“Though I am safe, what about the other officers?” asked the First Ruler.

“The pursuers are close upon us and we cannot wait,” said Zhao Yun. “Pray get into the city as quickly as possible and I will go back to rescue the others.”

When the First Ruler reached Baidi he had only about a hundred men left.

A poem was written concerning the victory of Lu Xun:

He grips the spear and kindles fire, the camps are swept away.
Liu Bei to Baidi city flees, lonely and sad today.
But Lu Xun’s meteoric fame now shoots through Shu and Wei,
For the scholar the Prince of Wu has naught but good to say.

Fu Tong, who commanded the rear, was surrounded by the enemy.

Ding Feng shouted to him, “You had better surrender. Many of your men have fallen, more have surrendered, and your lord is a prisoner. You have no hope against us with your scanty force.”

But Fu Tong replied, “I am a general of Han—I will never give in to the curs of Wu!”

Undaunted, he rode at his opponents and fought over a hundred bouts, trying to break through the encroachment. But all his effort was in vain and in the end he died among his enemies.

A poem celebrates his valor:

Wu, at Yiling, strove with Shu,
Flames, not swords, used crafty Lu.
Worthy of a place among
Han’s bold captains is Fu Tong.

The libationer Cheng Ji, having got clear of the battle, rode swiftly to the riverbank and called to the marines to join in the battle. They landed, but as they saw the men of Wu coming in pursuit they soon started to flee. One of his officers shouted to him to run for his life, for the men of Wu were drawing near, but he answered angrily: “Since I first followed my lord I have never run before a foe.”

Hardly had he finished speaking when the enemy came up and surrounded him. There being no way out, he took his life with his own sword.

Noble among the warriors of Shu was Cheng Ji.
He kept his sword for the service of his prince.
When danger pressed near he wavered not,
So his name remains forever honored.

Now Wu Ban and Zhang Nan had been besieging Yiling, when Feng Xi arrived to tell them of the plight of their lord, so they led off their army to rescue him. The siege of Yiling was then lifted as Lu Xun had foretold would happen.

As the three officers and their men hurried along, their progress was suddenly halted by the men of Wu both in front and behind, for as soon Sun Huan was free he set off in pursuit of his late besiegers. A battle was fought, during which both Feng Xi and Zhang Nan perished. Only Wu Ban broke through. He was pursued, but he luckily fell in with Zhao Yun and got safely to Baidi.

The barbarian chieftain Shamoke was flying from the battlefield all alone when he met Zhou Tai, who slew him after a short fight. Several Shu officers surrendered to Wu, as did many soldiers. Of the supplies and weapons in the camps of Shu, nothing was saved.

When the news of the defeat of Shu reached Lady Sun, and with it the rumor that the First Ruler had been killed in battle, she gave herself up to unutterable grief. She went down to the riverbank in her carriage and, gazing westward, wept and lamented. Then she threw herself into the stream and was drowned. A temple called the Shrine of the Bold Beauty was erected for posterity on the shore, and a poem was dedicated to her memory:

The king, defeated, fled, and rumor said he’d died;
His consort in deep grief committed suicide.
A stele stands by the stream even today
To tell all how heroic the lady had died.

Lu Xun had by then won a sweeping victory. Anxious to push his advantage as far as possible, he led his exultant army westward. But as he drew near Gui Pass he suddenly pulled up his horse, for he sensed an aura of death emanating from between the hills and the river.

“There must be an ambush,” he said and ordered the army to stop advancing.

So they retreated about a dozen
li
and formed a battle array in the wide open ground, bracing themselves against any sudden attack. Meanwhile, scouts were sent out to reconnoiter. They returned reporting no soldiers ahead. Lu Xun doubted their words and climbed an elevation from where he could survey the country. The aura was still visible to him and so he dispatched more scouts to investigate. But he received the same report: there was not a man nor a horse in front.

Still, as the sun was about to sink in the west he could see the air of death accentuated, and he felt gravely worried. Again he sent men to find out, this time his own confidants, who returned to say that there were only about a hundred heaps of boulders by the riverbank, but no soldiers nor horses.

The commander, greatly puzzled, called in several natives to ask them about the stones.

“Who put the stones in heaps there?” he asked. “Why is there an air of death arising?”

“This place is called Fishbelly Creek. Before Zhuge Liang went west into Shu he came here with a lot of soldiers and heaped up the boulders like that on the sandy shore. Since then vapor has often risen from inside the place.”

Lu Xun decided to go and look at this arrangement of boulders himself. So he rode off with a small escort. Looking down at the stones from a slope he saw the boulders were evidently arranged like a battle formation. There were entrances and exits.

“That is nothing but a useless trick!” he laughed.

Intent on examining the mysterious arrangement more closely, he rode down the slope with several of his men and went in among the stones. Presently his followers called his attention to the increasing darkness and asked him to return to camp. But as he was looking for an exit, a sudden squall came on, sending the dust whirling up in the air, obscuring both the sky and earth. And in the swirl the stones reared themselves up like steep mountains, pointed as sharp swords, and the sand and soil shaped themselves into hillocks, one behind the other, while the roar of the billowing water was like the rolling of drums in a battle.

“I have fallen into Zhuge Liang’s trick,” cried Lu Xun, now greatly alarmed.

He tried to get out but could find no exit. As he stood in apprehension, not knowing what to do, an old man suddenly appeared and asked, “Do you wish to go out, General?”

“I earnestly desire that you will lead me out, venerable sir,” he replied.

Leaning on his staff, the old man quietly and slowly conducted Lu Xun outside, without difficulty. When he was safe once again on the slope Lu Xun asked his aged guide who he was.

“I am Zhuge Liang’s father-in-law; my name is Huang Cheng-yan. My son-in-law placed these boulders here as you see them, and he said they represented the battle formation of the ‘Eight Arrays.’ There are eight gates, which are named respectively Rest, Life, Injury, Obstruction, Prospect, Death, Surprise, and Opening. They are capable of infinite mutations and are equal to 100,000 soldiers. Before he left he told me that a major general of Wu would be trapped in them sometime later and asked me not to conduct him outside. From a hill nearby I saw you enter at the Gate of Death, and I guessed you were ignorant of the scheme and would become entangled. But I am of a kindly disposition and could not bear to see you entrapped without the possibility of escape, so I came to guide you to the Gate of Life.”

“Have you studied this matter, sir?” asked Lu Xun.

“The variations are inexhaustible, and I could not learn them all.”

Lu Xun dismounted, bowed low before the old man, and then rode away.

The famous poet Du Fu
^*
wrote a poem to praise Zhuge Liang:

Founder of a kingdom; no small praise
Is his; inventor of the Eight Arrays
And for that famous. On the river’s brim,
Firm set, the boulders stand as placed by him.
No current rolls them down. Time’s waters, too
Drown not regret, he did not conquer Wu.

Lu Xun went to his camp in deep thought.

“This Zhuge Liang is well named ‘Sleeping Dragon.’ I’m not his equal.” Then, to the amazement of all, he gave orders for all the forces to return home. His officers ventured to voice their objection, arguing that they had been so successful.

“General, you have thoroughly broken the enemy, and Liu Bei is at the end of his tethers now that he is besieged in one small city. It seems the best moment to annihilate him yet you want to withdraw just because you have come across a mysterious arrangement of stones. Why?”

“I’m not afraid of the stones, and it is not on their account that I order retreat. What I fear is Cao Pi of Wei, who is no less cunning than his father, and when he hears I’m chasing Liu Bei into Shu he will certainly attack us. It will be hard to return then.”

So he ordered an officer to guard the rear while he himself led the main force to begin its homeward journey. On the second day scouts brought urgent reports that three mighty armies of Wei had advanced at three different points and were moving very fast toward the borders of Wu.

“Just as I anticipated,” said Lu Xun. “But I’m ready for them.”

“And now the west is mine,” the victor thought,
“But beware of the north,” discretion taught.

The story of the withdrawal will be told in the next chapter.

*
   Du Fu (
A.D.
712–770) was one of the most famous poets of the Tang dynasty.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

Liu Bei Leaves His Son in Zhuge Liang’s Care

Zhuge Liang Peacefully Settles the Five Attacks

I
t
was in the sixth month of the second year of Zhang Wu (
A.D.
222) that Lu Xun destroyed the army of Shu at Xiaoting and forced the First Ruler to seek refuge in Baidi, where Zhao Yun marshaled the defense. When Ma Liang returned from Chengdu, he found to his deepest remorse that the battle was already lost. He related what Zhuge Liang had told him to the First Ruler, who said with a deep sigh: “If I had listened to the prime minister’s advice this defeat would not have happened. Now how can I face returning to my courtiers at the capital?”

So he decided to stay on in the city of Baidi and named the guesthouse the Palace of Eternal Peace. He was deeply grieved when he learned of the death of so many of his officers. Then he was told that Huang Quan, who had been given command of the marine force on the north bank, had surrendered to Wei. His officials suggested arresting the family of the renegade but he disagreed. “He was cut off from us by the men of Wu, and he had no alternative but to surrender to Wei. It was I who failed him, not he me. Why should I take vengeance on his family?” And he continued issuing money and grain to his family so that they would not suffer from want.

Away in Wei, Huang Quan was led before Cao Pi, who asked, “You have come to surrender to me—is it because you desire to imitate the admirable conduct of Chen Pin and Han Xin
^*
of old?”

Huang Quan replied tearfully, “The Emperor of Shu has been very kind to me, and he gave me the command of the marine forces on the north bank. But I was cut off by Lu Xun and could not return to Shu, and as I must not surrender to Wu, I can only yield to Your Majesty. Defeated as I am, I should be only too happy if my life were spared. How dare I attempt to imitate the virtuous ones of old?”