CHAPTER CXVI.
Chung Hui Divides His Army; Apparition of Wu Hou.
The words whispered in the ear of Shao T‘i proved Ssǔma’s subtlety. Said he, “This morning they all maintained that Shu should not be attacked, because they are timid. But a determined attack will defeat them. You saw Chung Hui was set upon his plan, and he is not afraid. Shu must therefore be beaten, and then the people’s hearts will be torn. Beaten leaders cannot boast, and the officers of a broken state are no fit guardians of its welfare. When Chung turns against us, the men of Shu will not support him, and our men being victors they will wish to return home and will not follow their leader into revolt. Hence there is nothing to be feared. I know this, as you do, but it must remain our secret.”
Shao T‘i understood.
In his camp, just prior to his march, Chung Hui assembled his officers, four score of them and many bearing well-known names, to receive orders.
“Firstly I want a leader of the van,” said he. “He must be skilled in making roads and repairing bridges.”
“I will take that post,” said a voice, and the speaker was Hsü I, son of the “Tiger Leader” Hsü Chu.
“Nobody is fitter,” cried all present.
“You shall have the seal,” said Chung. “You are lithe and strong and have the renown of your father to maintain. Beside, all your colleagues recommend you. Your force shall be half a legion of cavalry and a company of footmen. You are to march into Hanchung in three divisions, the centre one going through Hsieh Valley, the other two passing through Lo and Tzuwu Valleys. You must level and repair the roads, put the bridges in order, bore tunnels and break away rocks. Use all diligence, for any delay will entail punishment.”
Hsü I was told to set out immediately, and his chief would start as soon as possible.
As soon as Têng Ai received his orders to attack Shu he sent Ssŭma Wang to enlist the aid of the Ch‘iang. Next he summoned the Prefects of the various districts, and soon soldiers gathered in Shênsi like clouds.
One night Têng dreamed a dream wherein he was climbing a lofty mountain on the way into Hanchung. Suddenly a spring of water gushed out at his feet and boiled up with great force so that he was alarmed.
He awoke all in a sweat and did not sleep again, but sat awaiting the dawn. At daybreak he summoned Shao Huan, who was skilled in the Book of Changes, told him the dream and asked the interpretation.
He replied, “According to the book, 'water on a mountain' signifies the diagram Ch‘ien, whereunder we find that the south-west augurs well, but the north-east is unpropitious. The Sage said of Ch‘ien that it meant advantage in the southwest, i e., success; but the north-east spelt failure, i e., there was no road. In this expedition, General, you will overcome but you will be checked before you can proceed far.”
Têng listened, growing more and more sad as the interpretation of his dream was unfolded. Just then came despatches from Chung Hui asking him to advance into Hanchung and take Ch‘i. He at once sent Chuko Hsü, Governor of Yungchou, to cut off Chiang Wei’s retreat, and sent other bodies against the various cantonments. Têng Ai took command of a force to go to and fro and reinforce whatever body needed help.
All the officials came out to see Chung depart. It was a grand sight, the gay banners shutting out the sun, breastplates and helmets glittering. The men were fit and the horses in good condition. They all felicitated the leader.
All save one; for Liu Shih was silent. He smiled grimly. Then Wang Hsiang made his way through the crowd and said, “Do you think these two will overcome Shu?”
“They will overcome Shu certainly, only I think neither will ever come back.”
“Why do you say that?”
But Liu did not reply; he only smiled. And the question was not repeated.
The armies of Wei were on the march before Chiang Wei heard of the intended attack. He at once sent up a memorial asking that certain defensive arrangements be made. Chang I and Liao Hua were to command at the two most important points, upon which depended the security of Hanchung. He also sent to engage the help of Wu, and gathered soldiers in Miaochung ready for defence.
That year in Shu the reign-style had been changed to the first year of Yen-Hsing. When the memorial came to the king it found him as usual amusing himself with his favourite Huang Hao. He read the document and said to the eunuch, “Here Chiang Wei says that the Wei armies under Têng Ai and Chung Hui are on the way against us. What shall we do?”
“There is nothing of the sort. Chiang Wei only wants to get a name for himself, and so he says this. Your Majesty need feel no alarm, for we can find out the truth from a certain wise woman I know. She is a real prophetess. May I call her?”
The king consented, and a room was fitted up for the’séance. They prepared therein incense, flowers, paper, candles, sacrificial articles and so on, and then the eunuch went with a carriage to beg the wise woman to attend upon the king.
She came and was seated on a dragon couch. After the king had kindled the incense and repeated the prayer, the wise woman suddenly let down her hair, dropped her slippers and capered about barefoot. After several rounds of this she coiled herself up on a table.
The eunuch then said, “The spirit has now descended. Send everyone away and pray to her.”
So the attendants were dismissed, and the king entreated the wise woman.
Suddenly she cried out, “I am the guardian spirit of Hsich‘uan. Your Majesty, rejoices in tranquillity; why do you enquire about other matters? Within a few years the land of Wei shall come under you, wherefore you need not be sorrowful.”
She then fell to the ground as in a swoon, and it was some time before she revived. The king was well satisfied with her prophesy and gave her large presents. Further, he thereafter believed all she told him. The immediate result was that Chiang’s memorial remained unanswered, and as the king was wholly given to pleasure it was easy for the eunuch to intercept all urgent memorials from the general.
Meanwhile Chung Hui was hastening toward Hanchung. The van-leader Hsü I was anxious to perform some startling exploit, and so he led his force to Nanchêng Pass.
He said to his officers, “If we can take this pass then we can march directly into Hanchung; the defence is weak.”
A dash was made for the fort, each one vying with the rest to be first. But the commander was Lu Hsün, and he had had early information of the coming of his enemies. So on both sides of the bridge he posted men armed with multiple bows and crossbows. As soon as the attacking force appeared, the signal was given by a clapper and a terrific discharge of arrows and bolts opened. Many men fell, and the army of Wei was defeated.
Hsün I returned and reported his misfortune. Chung Hui himself went with a few horse to see the conditions. Again the machine bows let fly clouds of missiles, and Chung turned to flee.
But a sortie was made, and as Chung crossed the bridge at a gallop the roadway gave, and his horse’s hoof went through so that he was nearly thrown. The horse could not free his hoof, and Chung slipped from his back and fled on foot. As he ran down the slope of the bridge Lu Hsün came at him with a spear, but one of Chung’s followers, Hsün K‘ai by name, shot an arrow at him and brought him to the earth. Seeing this lucky hit, Chung turned back and signalled to his men to make an attack. They came on with a dash, the defenders were afraid to shoot, as their men were mingled with the enemy, and soon the pass was in the hands of the Wei men. The defenders scattered.
The pass being captured, Hsün K‘ai was well rewarded for the shot that had saved his general’s life. He was promoted to the guards and received presents of a horse and a suit of armour.
Hsün I was called to the tent, and the general blamed him for the lack of care in his task. “You were appointed leader of the van to see that the roads were put in repair, and your special duty was to see that the bridges were in good condition. Yet on the bridge just now my horse’s hoof was caught, and I nearly fell. Happily Hsün K‘ai was by, or I had been slain. You have been disobedient and must bear the penalty.”
The delinquent was sentenced to death. The other captains tried to beg him off, but the general was obdurate, rejecting even the plea of the good services rendered by Hsün’s father.
“How can discipline be maintained if the laws are not enforced?” said he.
The sentence was carried out, and the unhappy man’s head was exposed as a warning. This severity put fear into the hearts of the officers.
On the side of Shu, Wang Han commanded at Loch'êng and Chiang Pin was in Hanchung. As the enemy came in great force, they dared not go out to meet them, but stood on the defensive with the gates of the cities closed.
Chung Hui issued an order, “Speed is the soul of war; no halts.”
Li Fu was ordered to lay siege to Loch'êng, and Hsün K‘ai was to surround Hanch'êng. The main army would capture Yangp‘ing Pass.
Fu Ch‘ien commanded at the pass. He discussed plans with his second in command, and this latter was wholly in favour of defence, saying that the enemy was too strong to think of any other course.
“I do not agree,” replied Fu. “They are now fatigued with marching, and we need not fear them. Unless we go out and attack, the two cities will fall.”
The lieutenant, Chiang Shu, made no reply. Soon the enemy arrived, and both officers went up to the wall and looked out. As soon as Chung Hui saw them he shouted, “We have here a host of ten legions. If you yield you shall have higher rank than you hold now, but if you persist in holding out then, when we take the pass, you shall all perish. Jewels and pebbles will share the same destruction.”
This threat angered Fu. He bade his lieutenant guard the walls, and he went down to give battle, taking three companies. He attacked, and Chung fled; Fu pursued. But soon the army of Wei closed up their ranks and stood. Fu turned to retire, but when he reached his own defences he saw they flew the flags of Wei; the banners of Shu had gone.
“I have yielded,” cried Chiang Shu from the ramparts.
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,
I 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 Tingchünshan, 'The hill of the Halted Army,' was the reply. “It is where Hsiahou Yüan 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 Tingchünshan.
“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 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'êngtu 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 Shênsi.
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 Têng 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 Têng 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 battle-field he had just left, but on the way he met the army of Wei, for Têng 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‘êng and Hanch'êng 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 Têng 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 Yinpʻing 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 Hsü, 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 Hsün 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.