The son dutifully agreed with his father. Soon the army set out, with two officers in the rear, each leading 5,000 men.
From the top of a hill Zhuge Liang saw the Wei soldiers march along in lines of several thousand and noticed their enormous number. He guessed that their objective was the Qishan camp and sent secret orders to his officers that if Sima Yi led in person they were to go off and capture the Wei camp on the south bank of the River Wei.
In the meantime, the men of Wei were all heading for the Qishan camp. As they got near and rushed toward their target, they saw from all around the place Shu soldiers running and yelling as if hastening to its rescue. Seeing this, Sima Yi at once changed course and made for the Gourd Valley with his two sons and the center force.
At the entrance of the valley Wei Yan had been expecting him most anxiously. Suddenly he saw an enemy troop appear. Wei Yan galloped up and recognized Sima Yi as the leader.
“Sima Yi, stay!” he shouted. Brandishing his sword, Wei Yan went up to challenge and Sima Yi set his spear to engage him. The two warriors exchanged a few bouts, and then Wei Yan suddenly turned his steed and bolted, making directly for the seven-star banner; Sima Yi followed, the more readily as he saw Wei Yan had but a small force. The two sons of Sima Yi were told to support him, one on either hand.
Presently Wei Yan and his five hundred men all entered the valley. Sima Yi halted at the entrance and sent a few scouts to reconnoiter. They returned to say that there were no ambushing troops inside, but only straw sheds on the hills.
Sima Yi said, “This must be where they store their grain.”
So saying he led his troops inside the valley. But when he had got well within, Sima Yi suddenly noticed that kindling wood was piled high in the straw huts, and as he saw no sign of Wei Yan he began to feel uneasy.
“If our enemy should seal the entrance of the valley, what is to be done?” he said to his sons.
Even as he spoke there arose a great shout, and from the hillsides were flung down many torches, and the entrance to the valley was soon blocked by flames. The Wei soldiers tried in vain to get away from the fire. Worse was still to come. All at once, fire-arrows came shooting down from the hilltops; mines exploded from beneath the earth; and firewood in the straw sheds blazed and crackled, its flames reaching high up to the heavens.
Scared out of his wits, Sima Yi dismounted and, clasping his two sons in his arms, he wailed, “My sons, we three are doomed to die here!”
As they were weeping, suddenly a stormy wind sprang up and black clouds gathered across the sky. Then came a peal of thunder, and torrential rain began to pour down, swiftly extinguishing the fire throughout the valley. The mines no longer exploded and all the fiery contrivances ceased to work mischief.
Gratified, Sima Yi cried, “If we don’t break out now, what better chance can we expect?”
And he made a dash for the outlet with his followers. At this moment his reserve force also came up to his rescue and so he escaped from the valley. Ma Dai’s force was not strong enough to pursue, and so the two troops of Wei joined forces to return to their main camp south of the Wei River.
But there they found their camp in the possession of the enemy, while Guo Huai and Sun Li were on the floating bridges struggling with the men of Shu, who retreated as Sima Yi approached. The bridges were subsequently burned and the Wei army occupied the north bank of the river.
The Wei troops attacking the Qishan camp were greatly disturbed when they heard of the defeat of their commander and the loss of their camp on the southern shore. Hurriedly they began to retreat but their enemies converged to strike with greater vigor, and so gained a great victory. The loss for the Wei army was extremely heavy, eight or nine out of every ten were wounded and the number of dead was too numerous to calculate. Those who escaped fled to the north of the river.
From his position at the top of a hill Zhuge Liang had watched with joy as Wei Yan duped Sima Yi into the trap he had so carefully prepared, and rejoiced at seeing the flames that instantly burst forth. He was certain that Sima Yi would die this time. But he was grievously disappointed when Heaven sent down torrents of rain that quenched the fire and upset his whole plan.
Soon after, scouts reported the escape of Sima Yi and his two sons. Zhuge Liang sighed: “Man proposes, God disposes. We cannot wrestle with Heaven.”
Fierce fires roared in the mouth of the valley,
But who could know a sudden rain should fall?
Had Zhuge Liang’s plan but succeeded,
How could the empire fall to the Jins?*
In his new camp on the north bank of the river Sima Yi issued an order that he would put to death any officer who proposed going out to battle. The final result of the late, ill-advised expedition had been the loss of their camp on the south bank of the river. Accordingly all the officers turned their attention to a firm defense.
One day Guo Huai went to see his commander and said, “These days Zhuge Liang has been carefully surveying the country. I think he is certainly selecting a new camp site.”
“If Zhuge Liang moves out to Wugong and camps by the hills eastward, we will be in grave danger; but if he goes from the south bank of the river and halts in the west on the Wuzhang Plain, we need have no fears.”
He then sent scouts to find out the movements of their enemy. Presently the scouts returned to say that Zhuge Liang had chosen the plain.
“Indeed this is a great fortune for our Emperor!” said Sima Yi, clapping his hand to his forehead. Then he reiterated the order to remain strictly on the defensive.
“Things will change within the enemy ranks after some time,” concluded Sima Yi.
After settling into his new camp on the plain, Zhuge Liang continued his attempts to provoke a battle. Day after day, officers went to challenge the men of Wei, but they refused to be provoked.
At last Zhuge Liang packed a woman’s headpiece and a mourning dress of white silk in a box, which he sent with a letter to his rival. The Wei officers dared not conceal the matter and so they led the bearer of the box to their chief. Sima Yi opened the box and saw the headpiece and the mourning dress.
Then he opened the letter, which briefly ran as follows:
As a high-ranking general leading the northern troops, you seem but little disposed to display firmness and valor and enter into a decisive contest with me. Instead, you prefer to hide in your earthen lair, where you are safe from the keen edge of the sword. Are you any different from a woman?* Therefore I send you a woman’s headpiece and a dress of mourning white, and if you do not emerge to fight you should humbly accept these. However, if you are not entirely indifferent to shame, and still retain some vestige of the heart of a man, reply to my challenge and fight me on a fixed date.
Sima Yi, although inwardly raging, assumed a smile. “So he regards me as a woman,” he said.
He accepted the gift and treated the messenger very well. Before he left, Sima Yi asked him about Zhuge Liang’s eating and sleeping habits and about how hard he worked.
“The prime minister works very hard,” said the messenger. “He rises early and retires to bed late. He attends personally to all cases requiring punishment of over a score of strokes. As for food, he does not eat more than a few sheng (pints) of grain daily.”
“He eats little but works hard,” remarked Sima Yi. “Can he last long?”
The messenger returned to his own side and reported to Zhuge Liang that Sima Yi had taken the whole thing in good humor and shown no sign of anger; that he only asked about the prime minister’s hours of rest, eating habits, and workload, never saying a word about military matters.
The messenger continued, “After I answered his questions he said, ‘He eats little but works hard. Can he last long?’”
“He knows me very well,” said Zhuge Liang pensively.
At this an official called Yang Yong ventured to remonstrate with his chief. “Sir, I notice that you check the books personally. I think that is needless labor for a pri
me minister to undertake. In every effective administrative body the superior and the subordinate ranks have clearly-defined and separate duties. In a household, for example, the male servants plow and the female cook. Thus no jobs fall short of being attended to, and all needs are supplied. The master of the house has ample leisure and peace. He can eat and sleep without any worries. But if he strives to attend personally to every matter, he only wears himself out, yet achieves nothing. Does it imply that the master is not as clever as his maids and hinds? Not in the least. Only he fails in his own part—that of playing the master. And, indeed, the ancients held this same opinion, for they said, ‘The three highest-ranking ministers sit and delineate their plans; the common officials go and carry them out.’ Of old, Bing Ji* was disturbed by the panting of an ox, but was indifferent to the corpses lying about the road. And Chen Ping was unfamiliar with the state revenue and declared that these were the concern of others.
“But sir, you personally look into every minor business, sweating all day long. How can you be not exhausted? Sima Yi’s words are perfectly correct.”
Zhuge Liang wept. “I’m not ignorant of this. But I shoulder this heavy responsibility laid upon me by the late Emperor, and I fear no one else will be so devoted as I am.”
All those who heard him wept. Thereafter Zhuge Liang felt disturbed in his mind, and the officers dared not execute military operations.
On the other side, the officers of Wei resented bitterly when they learned that their leader had accepted Zhuge Liang’s insult without offering to fight. They went to their chief and said, “We are reputable officers of a great state—how can we put up with such an insult from these men of Shu? Pray let us fight them. See which of us is the rooster and which the hen!”
“It’s not that I fear to go out, nor that I’m ready to bow to the insult,” said Sima Yi. “But I have the Emperor’s command to be on the defensive and must not disobey.”
But the officers were not in the least appeased.
“Let me petition to the Emperor and obtain His Majesty’s permission. What do you say to this?”
They consented to await the Emperor’s reply. A messenger bore to the Wei ruler, then in Hefei, this memorial:
Incapable as I am, I have been entrusted with a heavy responsibility. Your Majesty has commanded me to defend my position and wait for the men of Shu to destroy themselves. But Zhuge Liang has now sent me a woman’s headpiece and dress, and put me to great shame. Therefore I am writing to let it be known to Your Majesty that I will soon fight to the death against our enemy in order to show my gratitude to the court and to remove the shameful stigma that now rests upon my army. Words cannot express how much I am urged to this course.
The Emperor read it and turned questioningly to his courtiers. “Sima Yi has so far been firmly on the defensive. Why does he now petition for battle?”
Xin Pi answered, “Sima Yi has no desire to give battle. But his officers must be too outraged to bear Zhuge Liang’s insult. So he wishes for an edict to pacify them.”
The Emperor understood and sent Xin Pi with a jie (formal edict) to the Wei camp to make known that it was the Emperor’s command not to fight. Sima Yi received the order with all respect, and the imperial messenger announced that any future reference to offering battle would be taken as disobedience to the Emperor’s special command. The officers could not but obey.
Sima Yi secretly said to Xin Pi, “You have indeed read my heart!”
Then he told his men to spread the news that the ruler of Wei had dispatched an envoy with a jie to forbid them to combat. When the officers of Shu heard about it they went in to tell Zhuge Liang, who smiled and said, “This is only Sima Yi’s method of pacifying his army.”
“How do you know, sir?” asked Jiang Wei.
Zhuge Liang replied, “Sima Yi has never intended to fight. The reason why he petitioned to be allowed to give battle was to show his officers his militancy. It is well known that ‘A general in the field may defy an Emperor’s command.’ Would any general ask permission to fight from a thousand li away? Sima Yi is only using the Emperor to appease his men, who must be furious with the insult. Now he is spreading the story to slacken the fighting spirit of our men.”
Just at this time Fei Yi came. Zhuge Liang called him in and asked him the reason for his coming. Then Fei Yi related to him in detail the depressing news of Wu’s setbacks on the southern front and its subsequent withdrawal. Zhuge Liang listened to the end. Heaving a long sigh, he fell unconscious to the ground. The officers hurried to his rescue. After a long while he came to.
“I feel very dizzy,” he said with a sigh. “The old illness has returned. I fear my end is near.”
In spite of his illness Zhuge Liang went out of his tent that night to scan the stars. What he saw alarmed him very much. He returned and said to Jiang Wei, “My life may end at any moment.”
“Why do you say so, sir?” asked Jiang Wei, startled.
“Just now I saw in the constellation of the Big Dipper that the guest star is doubly bright, whereas the host star is darkened and its supporting stars are also obscure. With such a heavenly aspect I know my fate.”
“If the aspect is as malignant as you say, sir, why not pray in order to avert it?”
“I do know the way to pray for it,” replied Zhuge Liang, “but I don’t know the will of Heaven. However, arrange to have forty-nine armored men stand around my tent outside and let each be dressed in black and hold a black flag. Within my tent I will pray to appeal to the Big Dipper. If my host-lamp remains alight for seven days, then my life will be prolonged for twelve years. If the light goes out, then I will certainly die. Keep all idlers away from the tent and let two errand boys bring me what is necessary.”
Jiang Wei went to prepare everything as directed. It was then mid-autumn in the eighth month of the year. That night the Milky Way was bright, studded with jade-like stars. The air was perfectly calm.
The forty-nine men were assigned to guard the tent, while within Zhuge Liang prepared incense and offerings. On the floor of the tent he arranged seven big lamps, and, outside these, forty-nine smaller ones. In the midst of all these he placed the lamp of his own fate.
Then he prayed. “I, Liang, born into an age of trouble, would willingly spend my life among tress and waters. But grateful to my late Emperor who sought me thrice in my cottage and confided to me the care of his son, I dare not fail in my effort to destroy the traitors of the empire. But contrary to my expectations, my star is declining and my end is near. Humbly I appeal to Heaven above: Please graciously listen to my prayer and extend my lifespan, that I may repay my lord for his benevolence, save the people from their sufferings, and restore the empire to its former state and perpetuate the rule of Han. I would not have dared to make an improper appeal, but this is really the cry of an agonized heart.”
This prayer ended, in the solitude of his tent he awaited the dawn.
The next day, ill as he was, he did not neglect his duties, and he spat blood continually. For the next few days he attended to military affairs during the day and prayed in his tent at night.
In the meantime Sima Yi remained on the defensive. One night as he sat gazing up at the sky and studying its aspect he was greatly pleased at what he saw.
Turning to Xiahou Ba, he said, “Zhuge Liang must be ill and will soon die. I see his star is losing position. Take a thousand men to reconnoiter the Wuzhang Plain. If the men of Shu are in confusion and refuse to come out to fight, then Zhuge Liang must be ill. I’m going to take this opportunity to strike hard.”
Xiahou Ba left. It was then the sixth night of Zhuge Liang’s prayers, and he was pleased to find the lamp of his fate still burning brightly. Presently Jiang Wei entered and watched as Zhuge Liang, his hair loose, his hand gripping a sword, ritually paced the steps to try to keep his star in place.
Suddenly a great shouting was heard outside. He was just going to send someone out to inquire when Wei Yan dashed in, crying, “The men of Wei a
re here!”
Alas! Wei Yan’s hasty steps extinguished the Lamp of Fate!*
Zhuge Liang threw down the sword and sighed. “Life and death are fore-ordained—no prayers can alter them.”
Frightened, Wei Yan fell to the earth and pleaded guilty. Jiang Wei furiously drew his sword to slay the culprit.
Naught is under man’s control,
Nor can he with fate contend.
Whether Jiang Wei would slay Wei Yan will be revealed in the next chapter.
Footnotes
* Sima Yi’s younger son, Sima Zhao, later overthrew Wei and established Jin Dynasty.
* Women in ancient China were expected to stay indoors and not venture out. As Sima Yi maintained his defense behind the city walls Zhuge Liang ridiculed him by comparing him to a woman.
* A West Han prime minister. Once he was out on a spring day and noticed a panting ox and some corpses lying by the roadside. He paid much attention to the panting ox but little to the dead people. When asked, he argued that the panting of an ox on a spring day might indicate an abnormality in the climate, which might affect the crops, and it was his business as a prime minister to be concerned about agriculture; whereas the corpses on the roadside should concern only the magistrate.
* The light in the lamp was extinguished by the draught of wind accompanying Wei Yan’s hasty steps.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FOUR
A Great Star Falls as Zhuge Liang Returns to Heaven
A Wooden Statue Frightens Sima Yi
At the end of the last chapter Jiang Wei drew his sword to slay Wei Yan. But Zhuge Liang checked him. “This is my fate, not his fault.”
So Jiang Wei put back his sword. Zhuge Liang vomited several mouthfuls of blood and sank wearily upon his couch. Then he said to Wei Yan, “Sima Yi reckons I’m ill, so he has sent these men to make sure. You go and fight them at once.”
The Three Kingdoms, Volume 3: Welcome the Tiger: The Epic Chinese Tale of Loyalty and War in a Dynamic New Translation Page 43