Authors: Luo Guanzhong
“Now at last I have found a place to live in,” cried Meng Huo, striking his forehead in great relief. Then looking toward the north he said, “Even Zhuge Liang’s cunning schemes will be of no avail. The four springs alone will defeat him and avenge my army.”
The two brothers settled down comfortably as guests of Duo Si, with whom they spent the days in feasting.
In the meantime, as the Mans did not appear, Zhuge Liang gave orders to leave the West Er River and press southward. It was then the sixth month, and the weather was blazing hot. A poem describes the scorching heat of the deep south:
The hills are arid, the valleys dry,
A raging heat fills all the sky,
Throughout the whole wide universe
No spot exists where heat is worse.
Another poem runs:
The glowing sun darts out fierce rays,
No cloud gives shelter from the blaze,
In parching heat there pants a crane,
And turtles moan in the hissing main.
The brook’s cool margin now I love,
Or idle stroll through bamboo grove.
Wretched are those warriors who marched
In iron mail to go out for war.
In spite of the sultry heat, the men of Shu journeyed southward. On the way scouts brought news of Meng Huo’s retreat into the Bald Dragon Valley and the barricading of the key route leading to its entrance. They also said that the route was garrisoned, and the hills were precipitous and impassable.
So Zhuge Liang called in Lu Kai and questioned him, who answered: “I have heard there is another route into that valley but I do not know exactly where it is.”
Then the senior official, Jiang Wan, tried to dissuade him from advancing. “Meng Huo is repeatedly captured. He must have been scared out of his wits and will not dare to venture out again. Our men are exhausted with this intense heat and little is to be gained by prolonging the campaign. I think the best move is to return to our own country.”
“If we do that we will fall into the trap of Meng Huo’s scheme,” said Zhuge Liang. “If we retreat he will certainly follow. Besides, having advanced so far, it will be foolish to turn back now.”
So he ordered Wang Ping to lead the first division, taking with him some of the recently surrendered Mans soldiers as guides to look for a road to get to the valley from the northwest. Wang Ping found the road they were looking for. Presently they got to the first spring, where the thirsty men and horses had a good drink.
Wang Ping returned to report his success but by the time he reached camp he and all his men had lost the power of speech. They could only point to their mouths. Zhuge Liang, who knew they had been poisoned, was much alarmed. He went forward in his light carriage to find out the cause, accompanied by dozens of his men. When he came to the spring he saw the water was clear but very deep. A mass of vapor hung about the surface, rising and falling. The men would not touch the water. Getting off the carriage, Zhuge Liang went up the hill to view the terrain. All he saw was rugged mountains. A deep silence hung over the whole place, unbroken even by the cry of a bird. He was greatly perplexed.
Suddenly he noticed an old temple far away among the high crags. With the aid of hanging creepers he managed to clamber up, and in a chamber hewn out of the rock he saw the statue of an officer. Beside it was a tablet saying the temple was dedicated to Ma Yuan, the famous general who had preceded him in coming to that wild land. The natives had erected it to offer sacrifices to the leader, who had overcome the Mans in the old days.
Zhuge Liang, much impressed, bowed before the image of the general and said: “I, Zhuge Liang, have received from my late lord the sacred mission of protecting his son. Now at my new lord’s order I have come here to subdue the Mans in order that the land might be free from trouble for when I begin my campaign against Wei and conquer Wu, in order to restore the glory of the Hans. But the soldiers are unfamiliar with the country. Some of them have drunk the water from a poisonous spring and have become dumb. I earnestly pray that your honored spirit, out of regard for the Han dynasty, will manifest your holy power by safeguarding and assisting our army.”
After the prayer Zhuge Liang left the temple to try to find some natives to make inquiries. Then in the distance he saw coming toward him from the hill opposite an aged man of unusual appearance, who had a cane in his hand to help him in walking. When he reached the temple, Zhuge Liang asked the venerable visitor to walk in. After exchanging greetings, they sat down on some stones, facing each other.
Zhuge Liang asked the old gentleman who he was.
The old man evaded the question but said, “Sir, I know you well by repute, and am happy to meet you. The Mans are deeply grateful to you for sparing their lives.”
Then Zhuge Liang asked him about the mystery of the spring. The old man told him all about the four poisonous springs and the smog.
“Then the Mans cannot be conquered,” said Zhuge Liang in despair, when the old man had finished. “If they are not subdued, how can we repress Wu, overcome Wei, and restore the Hans? I will fail in the mission set me by my late king. I would rather die than stay alive!”
“Do not lose heart, sir,” said the aged man. “I can point you to a place, where you can find a cure to all of this.”
“What exalted advice have you to confer upon me? I hope you will instruct me.”
“West of here, not far off, is a valley, and twenty
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inside it you will find a stream, called the Stream of Ever Lasting Peace. Near there lives a recluse known as the Hermit of the Stream. He has not left the valley these many decades. Behind his cottage there gushes out a spring of water, called the Spring of Peace and Happiness. It provides a cure for the poisons of the four springs. Bathing in the spring will also cure the skin diseases or sickness from inhaling the miasma. Moreover, in front of his cottage grows a special kind of plant, with leaves like leek. Chewing a leaf of this protects one from being poisoned by miasma. You, sir, must go there and get these remedies without delay.”
Zhuge Liang humbly bowed to this aged gentleman and said, “Venerable sir, I am immensely grateful to you for your kindness and compassion. You have saved all our lives. May I ask again by what honored surname I may address you?”
The old man rose and walked into the temple, saying, “I am the spirit of this mountain, sent by General Ma Yuan to guide you.”
As he said this he shouted at the solid rock behind the temple and it opened of itself to let him in.
Zhuge Liang, whose astonishment was beyond measure, made another obeisance to the mountain spirit and went down by the way he had come. Then he returned to his camp.
The next day, bearing incense and gifts, he took Wang Ping and his stricken men to the spot that the old man had indicated. They quickly found the valley and followed its narrow path till they came to an enclosure where tall pines, lofty cypresses, luxuriant bamboo, and exotic flowers sheltered several thatched-roofed cottages. An exquisite fragrance pervaded the whole place.
Delighted, Zhuge Liang proceeded to knock at the door. A lad answered his knock, and before Zhuge Liang could introduce himself the host appeared and asked, “Could it be that my visitor is the Prime Minister of Han?”
Zhuge Liang saw at the door a man with blue eyes and yellowish hair, wearing a bamboo headdress, straw sandals, and a white robe girded by a black sash.
“Honored sir, how do you know who I am?” asked Zhuge Liang with a smile.
“How could I not have heard of your expedition to the south?”
He invited Zhuge Liang to enter, and when they had seated themselves in their relative positions as host and guest, Zhuge Liang said: “My former lord, the late Emperor, confided to me the care of his son and successor. Now, at the command of the new Emperor, I have led an army to this country to subdue the Mans so that they will obey the rule of the central government. But to my disappointment, Meng Huo has hidden himself in a certain valley, and some of my men have been poisoned by the water in the Dumb Spring. But last night the late general, Ma Yuan, commander of a much earlier expedition, manifested his sacred presence and told me that you, exalted sir, have a cure for this poison. I beg you to have compassion on us and bestow on us some of your holy water to save the lives of my men.”
The recluse replied, “I am only a worthless old man of the wild woods, unworthy to trouble you to come all the way to visit. The water you desire flows out at the back of my cottage.”
The lad then showed Wang Ping and his dumb soldiers to the stream, where he scooped up the water for them to drink. At once they emitted some poisonous mucus and their power of speech was restored. The lad also led the soldiers to the Stream of Ever Lasting Peace to bathe.
Inside the cottage, Zhuge Liang was treated with tea of cypress cones and a conserve of pine flowers. His host also told him that there were many serpents and scorpions in the valleys and that the water in the local streams were unfit to drink when wind had blown willow flowers into them. The only way to find drinking water was to dig wells.
Then Zhuge Liang asked for some leaves of his plant as an antidote against the miasma. The recluse allowed the soldiers to take what they needed. And so every man was told to put a leaf in his mouth and thus became immune from the smog.
Zhuge Liang, with a low bow, then begged to be told the name of his benefactor.
“I am Meng Huo’s elder brother,” said the recluse, smiling. “My name is Meng Jie.”
Zhuge Liang was startled.
“Do not be afraid,” said the recluse. “Let me explain. We are three brothers of the same parents and I am the eldest. Our parents are now both dead. My two brothers Huo and You, being headstrong and vicious, would not submit to the imperial rule. I have tried to talk to them many times but they persisted in their rebelliousness. Finally, under an assumed name, I retired to this spot. I am ashamed for my brothers’ rebellion, which has brought you so much trouble as to make an expedition into this uncultivated land. For my responsibility in this I deserve to die ten thousand times, and I entreat you to forgive me.”
Zhuge Liang sighed, saying, “Now I believe that old story of the robber Zhi and the sage Liu Xia-hui
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can also happen today. Men renowned for virtue and notorious for villainy may come from the same stock.”
Then he said to his host, “Would you wish me to report your merits to the Emperor and create you ruler of the land?”
“Well, how will I desire rank and wealth again, when I am here because of my contempt for all such things?”
Zhuge Liang then produced some gold and silk and offered them to him as gifts, but the recluse firmly declined to accept anything. Touched by his high sense of rectitude, Zhuge Liang, bowing reverently, took leave of his host, and then went back to his camp.
The recluse dwelt in peace, far away in the vale,
Where the great minister had once subdued the Mans.
Its towering trees, yet unknown to men,
Stands aloft still, clouded in cold mist.
As soon as Zhuge Liang reached camp, he set the men digging for water. But even when they dug to a depth of twenty feet, no water gushed out—nor were they more successful when they tried a dozen other places. The army was really alarmed.
Then Zhuge Liang burned incense and prayed to God in the depth of the night: “I, your unworthy servant Liang, relying on the fortune of the great Han, have come here to subdue the Mans at the order of the Emperor. But ‘ere my mission is completed our water is spent and my men and animals are parched with thirst. Should it be your will to preserve the line of the Hans, then I beseech you to bestow us sweet water; but should their course be spent, then may your servant and those with him die in this place!”
The next morning the wells were full of sweet water.
To restore Han he led his men to subdue the Mans.
His prayer was answered by gods for his heart was true.
As the wells gave forth sweet water when Geng Gong’s
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head bowed full low,
So the reverent night appeals of Kongming made the water flow.
The soldiers’ spirits revived with the supply of water, and the army soon advanced by narrow paths to the front of the Valley of the Bald Dragon, where they encamped.
Spies of the Mans soon reported to their king that the springs had lost their power and the men of Shu did not appear to have suffered from miasma or thirst. When he heard of this, Duo Si would not believe it. Together with Meng Huo, he ascended a high hill to observe their enemy in their camp. They saw no sign of illness or distress among the soldiers, who were carrying water in big or small buckets to cook meals or tend to their horses.
Duo Si’s hair stood on end as he looked at them. “These must be heavenly soldiers!” he said, shivering.
“We two brothers will fight to the death with these men of Shu,” said Meng Huo. “We would rather die on the battlefield than wait to be put into bonds.”
“If your men are defeated my whole family will also perish. Let us slaughter oxen and horses to treat our men. That will encourage them to risk fire and water to make a dash at the enemy camp. Only thus can we hope to win a victory.”
So there was great feasting before the Mans took the field. Just as they were ready to set out, there arrived a neighboring chieftain, Yang Feng, who had led an army of 30,000 men to assist them. Meng Huo rejoiced exceedingly at this unexpected support and felt sure of victory. So he and Duo Si went out of their own valley to welcome Yang Feng, who said, “I have with me 30,000 men. All are brave and intrepid warriors, clad in iron mail. They can fly over hills and bounce across ridges, capable to withstand even a million men of Shu. And, moreover, my five sons, all trained in arms, are here with me to help you.”