“The world can do without me, but not without you, my brother.”
“If I live I shall owe you my life,” said Ts‘ao Ts‘ao.
So he mounted. His brother tore off his own breastplate, gripped his sword and went on foot after the horse. Thus they proceeded till the fourth watch when they saw before them a broad stream, and behind they still heard the shouts of pursuers drawing nearer and nearer.
“This is my fate;” said Ts‘ao Ts‘ao. “I am really doomed.”
His brother helped him down from his horse. Then taking off his fighting robe he took the wounded man on his back and waded into the stream. When they reached the further side the pursuers had already gained the bank whence they shot arrows. Ts‘ao Ts‘ao all wet pushed on.
Dawn was near. They went on another thirty li and then sat down to rest under a precipice. Suddenly loud shouting was heard and a party of horse appeared. It was the Prefect of Jungpang who had forded the river higher up. Just at this moment Hsiahou Tun and his brother, with a half score men, came along.
“Hurt not my lord!” cried Hsiahou to the Prefect, who at once rushed at him. But the combat was short. The Prefect speedily fell under a spear thrust and his men were driven off. Before long Ts‘ao Ts‘ao’s other captains arrived. Sadness and joy mingled in the greetings. They gathered together the few hundreds of men left and then returned to Honei.
The story broke off leaving the confederate lords in their various camps at Loyang. Sun Chien, after extinguishing the fires, camped within the walls, his own tent being set up near the Chienchang Hall of the palace. His men cleared away the débris and closed the rifted tombs. The gates were barred. On the site of the Dynastic Temple he put up a mat shed containing three apartments, and here he begged the lords to meet and replace the sacred tablets, with solemn sacrifices and prayers.
This ceremony over, the others left and Sun Chien returned to his camp. That night the stars and moon vied with each other in brightness. As Sun sat in the open air looking up at the heavens he noticed a mist spreading over the stars of the Constellation Draco.
“The Emperor’s stars are dulled,” said he with a sigh, “No wonder a rebellious minister disturbs the State, the people sit in dust and ashes, and the capital is a waste.”
And his tears began to fall. Then a soldier pointing to the south said, “There is a beam of coloured light rising from a well.”
He bade his men light torches and descend into the well. Soon they brought up the corpse of a woman, not in the least decayed although it had been there many days. She was dressed in palace clothing and from her neck hung an em-
