“What is it?” asked the Emperor, pleased to hear this.
“We have plenty of iron here. We can weld over a hundred long iron chains with heavy links and stretch them across the river at various points. Also forge many massive iron hammers and arrange them in the stream. When the enemy’s ships sail down before the wind they will collide with the hammers and be wrecked. Then how can they sail across?”
Sun Hao was overjoyed to hear this and blacksmiths were soon at work on the riverbank, welding the links and forging the hammers. Work went on day and night, and soon all were in place.
In the meantime, Du Yu marched his army toward Jiangling. He ordered his officer Zhou Zhi to take eight hundred sailors and sail secretly across the Yangtze to attack Yuexiang, where they were to make a show of flags among trees in the hills. They were to beat drums and explode bombs during the day and raise fires by night. Zhou Zhi took the instruction and stole across the river and hid his men at Ba Hill.
The next day, Du Yu’s main body advanced on land and by water. Scouts reported that the Wu forces were coming in three divisions to meet them—Wu Yan on land, Lu Jin with the fleet, and Sun Xin as the van leader. Du Yu pressed forward and soon encountered Sun Xin’s ships. Du Yu retreated at once and Sun Xin landed his men and pursued. But before he had gone twenty li a signal bomb sounded and Sun Xin was attacked on all sides. He hastened to pull out, but Du Yu turned back and joined in the attack.
Wu’s losses were very heavy, and Sun Xin hastened back. But the eight hundred men of Jin, under Zhou Zhi, mingled with his own, and so also entered the city. They raised a fire on the wall. Sun Xin cried in disbelief, “Could the northern men have flown across the river?”
He made an effort to escape, but Zhou Zhi appeared, and with one savage shout, slew him.
In his ship the Wu commander Lu Jing saw a sea of fires on the south shore and a great standard fluttering in the wind on top of Ba Hill, bearing the name of the Jin general Du Yu. In terror, he tried to escape by land, but soon a Jin officer rode up and he was slain.
At his position in Jiangling, Wu Yan heard of these defeats and knew his position was untenable, so he fled. However, he was soon captured by soldiers in ambush and led into the presence of Du Yu.
“There is no use sparing you,” said Du Yu, and he ordered the prisoner to be put to death.
Thus Jiangling was seized by the northern army. Soon all the districts along Yuan and Xiang rivers as far as Guangzhou also fell, as the southern commanders yielded their seals of offices at the first summons. Du Yu sent out messengers with a jie (symbol of authority), to soothe the people of the conquered districts and to discipline his troops, who did not in the least harm the local inhabitants. Next Du Yu marched toward Wuchang, and that city also yielded. With this victory the reputation of Du Yu’s army soared.
Du Yu called his officers to a council to discuss plans to seize Jianye.
At the council Hu Fen said, “Enemies of a hundred years cannot be reduced completely in a short time. This is the time of spring flooding of rivers and streams and we will be unable to remain here for long. It’s better to wait until next year to launch another major campaign.”
Du Yu replied, “In the days of old, Yue Yi overcame the mighty Kingdom of Qi in a single battle at Jixi. Our army’s morale is now very high and we can succeed as easily as splitting a bamboo, which breaks all the way down at the touch of a blade after the first few joints have been cut and there was nothing left of it to hold in hand.”
So he sent written commands to his officers at various positions to move in concert against the city of Jianye.
Now the Jin general, Wang Jun, had sailed down the river with his naval force. From his scouts he learned of the iron chains and hammers that had been laid in the river by the men of Wu to hinder his progress. He laughed. Then he had several dozen big rafts constructed and placed on them straw effigies of men in armor and sent them downstream with the current. The men of Wu took them for real soldiers and fled at once. When the rafts reached the hammers they were all lifted out of the stream. Next he put on the rafts huge torches many fathoms long, and more than ten arm-lengths wide, soaked in linseed oil. Whenever a raft was checked by a chain the torch was lit and the chain, exposed to the fire, quickly melted and broke apart. Thus Wang Jun’s two squadrons sailed down the Yangtze, conquering wherever they went.
At this time the prime minister of Wu sent two generals, Shen Ying and Zhuge Jing, to try to check the advance of the Jin armies.
Shen Ying said to his colleague, “The forces upstream would be caught unprepared and I reckon the enemies will surely come here. We ought to exert all our strength to counter them. If we can succeed, the safety of our country is assured. But if, unfortunately, we lose the battle, then all is over.”
“Your words are only too true, General,” agreed his colleague.
Just as they were talking reports came of the approach of their enemies downstream, in irresistible momentum. Alarmed by the news the two officers went to see the prime minister.
“Our country is in peril,” said Zhuge Jing. “Why not escape?”
“The wise as well as the dumb know that the land is doomed,” replied the prime minister, weeping. “But wouldn’t it be a shame if both the Emperor and his officials should yield, without a single person dying for his country?”
Zhuge Jing, also weeping, took his leave. The prime minister and Shen Ying urged their army to fight the invaders, who soon came on all sides, and Zhou Zhi was the first to break into the Wu camp. Zhang Ti, the prime minister, resisted heroically, but was slain in a melee, and Shen Ying was killed by Zhou Zhi. The beaten men of Wu scattered in all directions.
As Du Yu’s banner fluttered on Ba Hill,
Zhang Ti of the south died a loyal death.
The fortune of the kingdom being spent,
He rather chose to die than shame his land.
Having thus conquered Niuzhu, the Jin troops penetrated deeply into the territory of Wu. A messenger was dispatched to Luoyang to tell of the success of the army, and Sima Yan was immensely pleased.
But Jia Chong was opposed to continuing the war and said, “The army has been out fighting for a long time and our soldiers, who are unaccustomed to the alien climate, are bound to fall sick. It would be well to recall them and plan for further actions later.”
Zhang Hua retorted, “The army has penetrated into the very heart of the enemy land. The men of Wu are too frightened to resist us and within a month Sun Hao will be our prisoner. To recall the army now would be to waste the efforts already made. It would indeed be a great pity.”
Before the Emperor could respond, Jia Chong turned upon his opponent savagely, “You are wholly ignorant of the time and the geographical conditions and yet you attempt to win glory at the expense of our soldiers’ lives. Even your death would not be enough to appease the whole country.”
But the Emperor interceded. “This is my idea and Zhang Hua agrees with me. There is no need to argue.”
Just at this moment Du Yu’s memorial arrived, which also recommended speedy advance. The ruler of Jin, with no more doubts, commanded his army to launch a general offensive against Wu.
The royal mandate duly reached the Jin camps and the army pressed forward by land and water in great pomp. The men of Wu made no defense, but surrendered at the mere sight of Jin flags.
When Sun Hao heard this, he turned pale with fright, and his courtiers said, “What is to be done? Here the northern army comes nearer every day and our men just give in without fighting.”
“But why do they not fight?” asked the Emperor.
The courtiers replied, “Today’s calamity is caused by the eunuch Cen Hun. Slay him and we ourselves will go out and fight to the death.”
“How can a eunuch harm a state?” cried the Emperor.
“Have we not seen what Huang Hao did to Shu?” shouted the courtiers in chorus.
Moved by sudden fury, the courtiers rushed into the palace, found the
wretched object of their hate and slew him, some even tasting his palpitating flesh.
Then Tao Jun volunteered, “All my warships are small, but give me large vessels and 20,000 men and I can defeat the enemy.”
His request was granted, and the royal guards were placed under Tao Jun’s command to oppose the enemy upstream, while another naval force under Zhang Xiang went downstream. But, contrary to their expectations, a heavy northwesterly wind suddenly came on, blowing the flags lying face down in the ships, and the men would not embark, but fled in all directions. Only Zhang Xiang and a few score of his men remained to face the enemy.
Meanwhile, the Jin general Wang Jun set sail down the river. After passing Three Hills, the sailing master of his squadron appealed to him: “The ships cannot move, for the wind is too strong and the current too swift. Let us wait till the wind has diminished a little.”
But Wang Jun was enraged and, drawing his sword, he cried, “I’m going to capture the Stone City now. How can you talk about stopping?”
So instead of pausing he ordered an advance in full force, accompanied by rolling of drums. Presently Zhang Xiang came to offer surrender.
“If you are sincere in your submission,” said Wang Jun. “Lead the way in the attack and win merit for yourself.”
Zhang Xiang consented. He returned to his own ship and sailed directly to the capital city, where he had the gates opened and allowed the Jin army to enter.
When the ruler of Wu heard that his enemies had actually entered the city he wished to put an end to his life, but two of his officials said, “Your Majesty, why not imitate Liu Shan, now Duke of Anle?”
Sun Hao took their advice and, following the ritual that befitted a yielding ruler, with hands tied behind his back and a coffin standing beside, he led his courtiers before Wang Jun’s army to offer submission. He was graciously received. The general himself loosened his bonds and had the coffin burned. The vanquished ruler was treated with the courtesy due to a prince.
A poet of the Tang Dynasty lamented over this surrender:
As Jin’s fabled warships sailed from Yizhou downstream,
Gone sadly were the days of the kingly rule of Jingling.
Thousands of iron chains sank to the bottom of the stream;
A sea of white flags appeared above the Stone City.
Often I think of bygone days and sigh,
Unmoved, the hills still lie beside the cold currents.
While I am homeless on the earth’s broad breast,
Where grim old forts stand gray beneath the sky.
So ended Wu’s days as an independent kingdom. And the empire of Jin absorbed all its four provinces, forty-three districts, and three hundred and thirteen towns; 523,000 households, 32,000 officials, 230,000 soldiers, and 2,300,000 inhabitants; 2,800,000 measures of grain and over 5,000 ships and boats; and 5,000 or more palace ladies.
Having secured Jin’s rule in the south, Wang Jun issued a proclamation to allay the fears of the people and sealed the treasuries and storehouses. By the following day, Tao Jun’s force melted away without striking a blow. Then arrived more troops led by the Jin generals Sima Zhou and Wang Rong, who were greatly elated at Wang Jun’s success.
The following day Du Yu also arrived and the victory was celebrated with great feasting and rewards for the soldiers. The granaries were opened and grain issued to the people, who were henceforth pacified.
Only one city, Jianping, under Prefect Wu Yan, stood firm against the invaders. Later, however, he also surrendered when he heard of the fall of the Kingdom of Wu.
Wang Jun sent a memorial to report the victory. On receiving the happy tidings of the conquest of the south, the Jin ruler and his courtiers congratulated each other and drank toasts.
At the banquet, the Emperor honored the memory of the late Yang Hu. Raising his wine cup, and in a voice charged with emotions, he said tearfully, “We owe our success today to General Yang. How I regret he is not here to share our rejoicing!”
Sun Xiu, a general of cavalry from Wu, went away from the court and wept, facing the south. “In the old days, our forebear Sun Ce founded this kingdom in his prime, when he was but a lieutenant officer. Now Sun Hao had the heritage of the whole of the south and yet he abandoned it. Alas, ye blue heavens, what manner of man is he?”
In the meantime the victors marched homeward to Luoyang, taking with them the Wu ruler Sun Hao to present him before the Jin emperor. Sun Hao ascended the audience hall and prostrated himself.
The Emperor asked him to take a seat, saying, “I have long prepared this seat for you.”
“Your servant also prepared a seat for Your Majesty in the south,” responded Sun Hao.
The Emperor laughed loudly.
Then Jia Chong turned to Sun Hao and asked, “I have heard that when you were in the south you used to gouge out people’s eyes and flay their faces; what crimes were so punished?”
“Slayers of one’s princes were punished in these ways, so were evil and disloyal people.”
Jia Chong was silenced, feeling greatly ashamed.
Sun Hao was created Marquis of Guiming and his sons and grandsons received posts in the palace. Noble titles were conferred upon all his former officials who had followed him in surrendering. As the late prime minister of Wu, Zhang Ti, had perished on the field, his descendants received similar titles. The victorious general Wang Jun was rewarded with the title, General–Pillar of the State. And the other officers also received rewards and ranks.
So ended the division of the land into three kingdoms, which were reunited into one empire under the rule of Sima Yan of the Jin Dynasty. That is what is meant by “Unity succeeds division and division follows unity. One is bound to be replaced by the other after a long span of time. This is the way of things in the world.”
The last emperors of the three kingdoms in time all died natural deaths: Liu Shan of Shu died in the seventh year of the Jin reign period Tai Shi (A.D. 271); Cao Huan of Wei, in the first year of Tai An (A.D. 302); and Sun Hao of Wu, in the fourth year of Tai Kang (A.D. 283).
A poet has summarized the history of these troubled years in the poem below:
It was the dawning of a glorious day
When Liu Bang entered Xianyang, sword in hand.
Then Guang-Wu the imperial rule was restored
Like a golden bird soaring to the sky.
Alas, Prince Xian succeeded in full time
And saw the setting of the sun of power!
He Jin, the tactless, fell beneath the blows
Of palace minions. Dong Zhuo the tyrant
Then ruled the court. And Wang Yun devised
A plan and triumphed in slaying the rebel.
But Li and Guo lit up the flame of war
And brigands swarmed like ants through all the land.
Then rose ambitious lords from every side.
The Suns carved out their land east of the Yangtze;
The Yuans strove to make Henan their own.
Liu Yan and son seized the west of Ba and Shu;
His kinsman Liu Biao laid hold of Jing and Xiang.
Zhang Yan and Zhang Lu in turn held Nanzheng by force;
Ma Teng and Han Sui defended Xiliang,
Each of three others seized upon a fief.
Tao Qian, Zhang Xiu, and Gongsun Zan, the bold.
But above all Cao Cao the strong
Became prime minister, and to his side,
Drew many able men. He swayed the court
And held all the feudal lords in his hand;
By force of arms he controlled the north
Against all rivals. Of imperial stock
Was born Liu Bei, who with sworn brothers two
Pledged an oath that the Hans should be restored.
He wandered homeless east and west for years,
With few officers and a meager force.
How sincere were his three visits to Nanyang,
To see the Sleeping Dragon, who foretold
The sp
lit of the empire into three states.
“Take Jingzhou first and then Shu,” he advised,
“A fitting base to build an empire on.”
Alas! Liu ruled there only three short years,
Sadly he left his son to Kongming’s care.
To reunite the empire under Han
Six times Kongming led his men to Qishan,
But the days of Han had come to an end.
One midnight his star fell into the vale.
Jiang Wei struggled alone with all his might
But his nine efforts against the north were in vain.
Zhong Hui and Deng Ai advanced by two routes
And thus fell Han’s last stronghold to Wei.
Five sons of Cao sat on the dragon throne,
Soon Sima snatched the scepter from Cao Huan.
Before the Altar of Abdication mist rose;
Beneath the Stone City no waves lapped.
The former rulers of Wei, Shu, and Wu
Became Dukes Chenliu, Guiming, and Anle.
All down the ages rings the note of change,
For fate so rules it—none escapes its sway.
The kingdoms three have vanished as a dream,
Pondering o’er this we can only grieve.
Footnote
* The ancient Chinese measured time by a sixty-year cycle. The year of geng-zi is the thirty-seventh year in the cycle. This is the year A.D. 280 by the western calendar.
About the Authors
Ron Iverson first visited China in 1984 as the personal representative of the Mayor of Chicago as part of a Sister Cities program. For the past 30 years he has continued to regularly visit China and has founded joint business ventures with Chinese partners and taught Business Strategy at Tongji University in Shanghai. He also personally arranged the first ever exhibition of Forbidden City artifacts from the palace Museum in Beijing to tour the US.
Early in his visits to China, Iverson discovered The Three Kingdoms and came to realize the enormous cultural significance the Chinese people place in the book. Believing that one needed to be familiar with the principles revealed in the book in order to find business or political success in China, and being dissatisfied with existing translations, Iverson decided to fund and edit a new translation aimed towards delivering the thrill of a contemporary novel while imparting understanding of a key aspect of Chinese culture.
The Three Kingdoms: Welcome the Tiger Page 66