The letter was written. But who would undertake to fight his way through with the letter? One officer named Lu Gong, a warrior of great strength, offered himself for the dangerous task.
Before he went, Kuai Liang said to him: “If you dare to undertake this task, do as I tell you. Take five hundred men with you—choose good bowmen. Dash through the enemy’s formation and make for the hills at once. You will be pursued, of course, but send one hundred men up the hill to prepare large stones and another hundred, all archers, to lie in ambush in the woods. When the pursuers come, do not just run away aimlessly but follow a devious way up the hill until you have deceived them to the place where the ambushed men are lying in wait. Then roll down the stones and let fly the arrows. If you succeed, fire off a series of bombs as a signal and we will come to help. If you are not pursued, send no signal but get away as fast as possible. The moon is dim tonight. You can start at dusk.”
Lu Gong, having received these instructions, prepared his force to carry them out. When dusk fell, they quietly opened the east gate and hastened out. Sun Jian was in his tent when he heard shouting. He at once mounted and rode out to find the cause, escorted by some thirty riders.
When he was told about the movement of the enemy, Sun Jian, together with his escort, followed in hot pursuit immediately, without waiting for his other officers. By that time, Lu Gong’s men had already been lying in ambush up on the hill and down in the woods. As Sun Jian was riding on a better steed, he was soon ahead of his escort and close to his enemy.
“Halt!” he shouted.
Lu Gong turned back as if to fight. But they had only exchanged a single pass when he retreated, taking a tortuous route up the hill. Sun Jian followed but soon lost sight of his foe. He was about to climb up the hill when suddenly there came the loud clanging of a gong. All at once, showers of stones fell down from the hill and clouds of arrows shot out from the thick woods, crushing his head and covering his body with wounds. Both he and his steed were killed. At the time of his death he was only thirty-seven years of age.
His escort, too, was overpowered and every one of them slain. Then, Lu Gong let off a series of bombs to signal his victory. At this sign, three forces led by Huang Zu, Kuai Liang, and Cai Mao came out and fell upon their enemies, throwing them into utmost confusion.
Hearing the thunder of noise, Huang Gai led his men from the ships to join in the battle. Soon he came face to face with Huang Zu, and captured him after a brief fight.
Cheng Pu had now taken the son of Sun Jian in his care. While looking desperately for a way out, he came across Lu Gong. He at once put his horse at full speed and the two engaged in battle. After a few bouts he pierced the killer of Sun Jian to death.
Meanwhile, the two contending forces fought a fierce battle till daybreak, when each withdrew its troops.
Liu Biao withdrew into the city and Sun Ce returned to the Han River. Only then did he learn about his father’s tragic death and that his body had been carried inside the city. He uttered a great cry and the whole army joined him with wailing and tears.
“How can I return home while my father’s body lies in there?” cried Sun Ce.
Huang Gai said, “We have taken Huang Zu prisoner. If only someone can go inside the city to negotiate peace and tell them that we will free Huang Zu in exchange for our lord’s body.”
He had barely finished speaking when a man called Huan Jie stood up and expressed his willingness to go as an envoy, saying that he was an old acquaintance of Liu Biao’s. Presently he went into the city to negotiate peace with the prefect.
Liu Biao told him that Sun Jian’s body was already laid in a coffin and ready to be delivered as soon as Huang Zu returned.
“Let us both cease fighting and never again invade each other’s territory,” he continued.
Huan Jie bowed to him in gratitude and was ready to leave. Suddenly, Kuai Liang cried: “No! No! I have thought of a scheme to wipe out their entire army. Please execute Huan Jie first, then carry out my plan.”
Pursuing his enemy, Sun Jian dies;
Seeking peace, Huan Jie’s life is again threatened.
The fate of the envoy will be told in the next chapter.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Wang Yun Cleverly Employs the “Chain” Scheme
Dong Zhuo Raises Havoc at Fengyi Pavilion
At the end of the previous chapter, Kuai Liang was about to disclose his scheme to destroy the enemy. This is what he said: “Sun Jian is dead and his sons are all young. They are at their weakest now. If you seize this moment to launch a speedy attack, the district will be yours in no time. But if you return the body and make peace, you give them time to grow stronger again and they will pose hidden danger to our city.”
“But how can I leave Huang Zu in their hands?” said the prefect.
“Why not sacrifice this blundering man for a district?” answered Kuai Liang.
“But he is my dear friend and it is wrong to abandon him.”
So the envoy was allowed to go back to his own camp with the understanding that Sun Jian’s remains would be returned in exchange for the prisoner.
Sun Ce, the eldest son of Sun Jian, freed the prisoner and brought back the coffin—then the fighting ceased. When he returned home, he buried his father in Qua. Then he applied himself to the task of ruling well. He welcomed men of wisdom and valor and treated them with modesty and respect so that gradually they came to his service from all sides.
By then the news of Sun Jian’s death had also reached Dong Zhuo in the capital.
“A dangerous enemy of mine has been removed,” he said in exultation.
Then he asked which sons of Sun Jian remained and when people told him that the eldest was but seventeen, he dismissed all anxiety from his mind.
From that time onward he became even more arrogant and domineering. He used the highly honored title “Shang Wu”* for himself and went about aping the Emperor’s state. He created his younger brother a Lord and Commander of the Left Division of the Imperial Army. A nephew of his was placed head of the palace guards and everyone of his clan, young or old, was ennobled. At some distance from the capital he employed a quarter of a million people to build a palace the size of a city, an exact replica of Chang’an, with its thick and high walls, its granaries, and its treasures. Here, he accumulated supplies sufficient for twenty years. He selected eight hundred of the most beautiful maidens and young men to be in his service in the new palace. The stores of wealth in every form were incalculable. All his family found quarters in this magnificent palace named Meiwu.
Dong Zhuo visited his palace at intervals of a month or so and every visit was like an imperial trip, with booths by the roadside to entertain the officials and courtiers who attended him to Hengmen Gate and saw him depart.
On one occasion he spread a great feast for all those assembled to witness his departure and while it was in progress there arrived several hundred rebels from the north who had voluntarily surrendered. The tyrant had them brought before him as he sat at his table and meted out to them wanton cruelties. The hands of this one was lopped off; the feet of that; one had his eyes gouged out; another lost his tongue. Some were boiled to death. Shrieks of agony arose to the very heavens and the courtiers trembled with terror, but the author of the misery ate and drank, chatted and smiled, as if nothing was going on.
Another day Dong Zhuo was presiding at a great gathering of officials who were seated in two long rows. After the wine had gone up and down several times Lu Bu entered and whispered a few words in his master’s ear. Dong Zhuo smiled and said: “So that is how it is! Take Zhang Wen outside.” The others all turned pale. In a little time a serving man brought the head of their fellow guest on a red dish and showed it to the tyrant. They nearly died with fright.
“Do not fear,” said Dong Zhuo smiling. “He was plotting with Yuan Shu to assassinate me. A letter sent to him fell by mistake into the hands of my son, so I had him put to death. But you have done no wrong. There is no need to fear.”
The officials dispersed quickly. One of them, Wang Yun, who had witnessed all this, returned to his home greatly distressed. Late that night he took his staff and went strolling under the bright moonlight in his back garden. Standing near one of the creeper trellises he gazed up at the sky and tears rolled down his cheeks. Suddenly he heard a rustle in the peony pavilion and someone sighing deeply. Approaching quietly he saw there one of the household singing girls named Diaochan, or Sable Cicada.
This maiden was brought up at his house and taught to sing and dance. She was then just maturing into womanhood, a pretty and clever girl whom Wang Yun regarded more as a daughter than a dependent.
After listening for some time he suddenly called out, “What mischief are you up to there, Cicada?”
The maiden dropped on her knees in terror. “I dare not do anything wrong,” she said.
“Then what are you sighing about out here in the darkness?” asked her master.
“Please, sir, let me speak from the bottom of my heart,” she pleaded.
“Tell me the whole truth—do not conceal anything.”
And the girl said, “I have received bountiful kindness from you, sir. I have been taught to sing and dance and been treated so kindly that were I torn to pieces for Your Lordship’s sake, I would not be able to repay a thousandth part. I have noticed lately that your brows have been knit in distress and I know it is on account of state troubles. But I dared not ask. This evening you seemed more upset than ever and I felt miserable, too. But I did not know I would be seen. If I could be of any use I would not shrink from a myriad deaths.”
A sudden idea came to Wang Yun and he struck the ground with his staff. “Who would have imagined that the fate of the Hans lies in your hands? Come with me!”
The girl followed him into the house. Then he ordered all the waiting women and girls out, placed Sable Cicada on a chair and knelt before her. She was frightened and threw herself on the ground, asking in terror what it all meant.
Wang Yun said, “Oh, please sympathize with the people of Han!” and tears streamed down his cheeks.
“As I said just now: use me in any way, I will never shrink,” said the girl.
Still kneeling, Wang Yun said, “The people are on the brink of destruction, the Emperor and his officials are in jeopardy, and you, you are the only savior. That wretch Dong Zhuo wants to depose the Emperor and not a man among us can find the means to stop him. Now he has an adopted son, a bold warrior it is true, but both the father and the son have a weakness for beauty and I am going to use what I call the ‘chain scheme.’ I will first propose to marry you to Lu Bu and then, after you are engaged, I will present you to Dong Zhuo. You are to take every opportunity to sow discord between them so as to cause the son to kill his adopted father and thus put an end to the great evil. In so doing you can restore the line of the Hans and the empire may thrive again. All this lies within your power—will you do it?”
“I have promised not to recoil from death itself. You may use my poor self in any way and I will do my best.”
“But if the secret gets abroad then we are all lost!”
“Do not worry,” she said. “If I do not show gratitude, may I perish beneath myriad swords!”
Wang Yun bowed again in gratitude.
Then he took from the family treasury several big pearls and asked a skilled jeweler to make a fine golden headpiece inlaid with these pearls. It was sent as a present to Lu Bu, who was so delighted that he came to thank the donor in person. When he arrived he was met at the gate by the host himself and conducted into the inner hall, where he found a table full of dainties for his delectation. He was then invited to sit in the seat of honor.
“I am only an officer in the house of the prime minister, but you are an exalted official of the state,” he said. “Why do you treat me with such great honor?”
“Because in the whole land there is no warrior your equal. I do not bow to your officer’s rank but to your ability.”
Lu Bu was much flattered. His host continued to ply him with wine while praising his virtues and those of his adopted father. The young man laughed heartily and drank huge goblets.
Presently most of the attendants were sent away and only a few remained to urge the guest to drink. When he found his guest quite mellow Wang Yun said to the servants, “Tell the child to come in.”
Soon appeared two female attendants leading between them the exquisite and fascinating Sable Cicada.
“Who is this?” said Lu Bu, startled into sobriety.
“This is my little girl, Cicada. You won’t be annoyed at my familiarity, will you? But you have been so very friendly to me and I feel as if we were close relations. So I have told her to come and see you.”
Then he bade the girl present a goblet of wine to the guest and her eyes met those of the warrior.
Feigning intoxication the host said, “My child, beg the general to drink some more wine. Our whole family depends upon him.”
Lu Bu asked the girl to sit down. She pretended to wish to retire but Wang Yun said she could remain since the guest was a dear friend. So she took a seat modestly beside her master.
Lu Bu kept his gaze fixed upon the maid while he drank cup after cup of wine.
“I would like to present her to you as a concubine. Would you accept?”
The young man left his seat to thank him. “If this is so, I will be your most humble servant,” he said.
“I will choose a propitious day soon and send her to your house.”
Lu Bu was overjoyed. He could not keep his eyes off the girl and loving glances also flashed from her watery orbs.
However, the time came for the guest to leave and Wang Yun said: “I would like to ask you to spend the night here but the prime minister might suspect something.”
The young man thanked him again and again before he departed. A few days later Wang Yun met Dong Zhuo at court. Seeing that Lu Bu was absent he bowed low to him and said: “I wish that Your Lordship would condescend to come to dine at my humble cottage. Could your noble thoughts bend that way?”
“Should you invite me I would certainly hasten,” was the reply.
Wang Yun thanked him. He went home and prepared every delicacy from land and sea for a feast to entertain Dong Zhuo. In the center of the front hall was placed a special seat for the guest of honor. Beautiful embroideries and brocade carpeted the floor and elegant curtains were hung within and without. At noon the next day Dong Zhuo arrived and his host knelt by the gate in full court costume to welcome him. Dong Zhuo stepped out of his chariot, followed by a host of armed guards, who crowded into the hall. Dong Zhuo took his seat at the top, his retinue fell into two lines right and left, while the host knelt humbly again at the lower end. Dong Zhuo bade his people conduct Wang Yun to a place beside himself.
“Your Lordship’s abundant virtue is as high as the great mountains; none of the ancient ministers could attain that height.”
Dong Zhuo smiled. Then wine was served and the music began. Wang Yun plied his guest with assiduous flattery and studied deference. When it grew late and the wine had done its work the guest was invited to the inner chamber. So he sent away his guards and went inside. Here the host raised a goblet and said, “Since my youth I have understood something of astrology. I have been studying the aspect of the heavens these nights. I find that the days of the Hans are numbered and that Your Lordship’s merits are known to all the world. As Shun seceded Yao and Yu* continued the work of Shun in ancient times, Your Lordship’s accession to the throne conforms to the will of Heaven and the desire of man.”
“How dare I expect this?” said Dong Zhuo.
“From the days of old, those who are just have replaced those who are unjust; those who lack virtue have fallen before those who possess it. Can one escape fate?”
“If that indeed is the decree of Heaven, you will be held the first in merit,” said his guest.
Wang Yun bowed. Then candles were lit and all the attendants w
ere dismissed, save the serving maids to handle the wine. So the evening went on.
Presently the host said, “The music of everyday musicians is too commonplace for your ear, but there happens to be in the house a little maid that might please you.”
“Excellent!” said the guest.
Then a curtain was lowered. The melodious tones of reed instruments lingered in the air and maids led forward Cicada, who then danced behind the curtain.
A poem describes her dancing like this:
For a palace this maiden was born,
So graceful, so slender, and so shy.
Like a tiny bird flitting at morn
She dances to the music with style.
Fair as a flower that sways in the breeze,
She brings spring to the room warm and sweet.
Another poem runs as follows:
The music calls; the dancer comes, a swallow gliding in,
A dainty little damsel, light as air;
Her beauty captivates the guest yet saddens him within,
For he must soon depart and leave her there.
No amount of money could buy her smile,
No need to deck her form with jewels rare,
But when the dance is over and coy glances come and go,
Then who shall be the chosen of the fair?
The dance ended, Dong Zhuo bade the maiden be led before him, and she came, bowing low as she approached him. He was much taken with her beauty.
“Who is she?” he asked.
“A singing girl, called Sable Cicada.”
“Then can she sing?”
The master told her to sing and she did so to the accompaniment of castanets. Here is a poem to describe her sweet singing:
You stand, a dainty maiden,
Your cherry lips so bright,
Your teeth so pearly white,
Your fragrant breath love-laden;
Yet is your tongue a sword;
Cold death is the reward
Of loving you, oh maiden.
Dong Zhuo was delighted and praised her warmly. She was told to present a goblet of wine to the guest, who took it from her hands and then asked her age.
The Three Kingdoms, Volume 1: The Sacred Oath: The Epic Chinese Tale of Loyalty and War in a Dynamic New Translation Page 12