The Three Kingdoms Volume 2 (44 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Zhuge Liang Mourns at Caisang

Pang Tong Governs at Leiyang

I
n
the last chapter it was narrated that a sudden rage filled the bosom of Zhou Yu and he fell to the ground. Then he was carried to his boat. It only added to his rage and mortification to be told that his rivals could be seen on the top of a hill drinking and enjoying themselves. He cried, grinding his teeth: “They think I will never be able to gain West Chuan. But I will! I swear I will!”

As he lay vowing to avenge himself, his master’s brother, Sun Yu, arrived and Zhou Yu told him everything that had happened.

“My brother sent me to assist you,” said Sun Yu.

So orders were given for the army to press forward. When they got to Baqiu, however, their advance stopped, for scouts reported large forces under Liu Feng and Guan Ping barring the river route. This failure added fuel to the flames of Zhou Yu’s anger.

About this time a letter from Zhuge Liang arrived, which ran as follows:

“Since our parting at Caisang I have thought of you often. Now I hear that you desire to take West Chuan, which I deem an unwise course of action. The people there are strong and the country is precipitous and difficult to occupy. Weak as its governor is, he is able to defend himself. Now you exhaust your army with this arduous expedition that covers 10,000
li
in distance in order to render a great service, yet can anyone foretell the final result? No, not even the great ancient general Wu Qi could say for certain, nor could Sun Wu be sure of a success. Furthermore, Cao Cao suffered a severe defeat at the Red Cliff—do you think he will ever cease to seek revenge? Now if you undertake a long expedition, will he not seize the occasion to fall upon Wu and grind it to dust? Such an outcome is more than I could bear and I venture to warn you of the possible danger. I wish you may condescend to consider this.”

As he finished reading the letter Zhou Yu heaved a deep sigh of sorrow. He called for paper and brush to write to his lord and, having done this, he said to his officers assembled around him: “It is not that I don’t want to do my best for my country, but my end is at hand. You must continue to aid our master till his great design is achieved.”

Here he fainted. Slowly he regained consciousness and as he looked up to Heaven he sighed pensively, “Oh God, since you made me; why did you also create Zhuge Liang?”

Soon after he passed away; he was only thirty-six.

At the battle of the Red Cliff he made his name;

Though young in years a veteran’s renown he gained.

In songs his lofty aspirations are unveiled;

With hospitality he entertained his friends.

Persuasive, he once obtained a large gift of grain;

Capable, he led an army of tens of thousands.

Baqiu was his deathbed, there his fate found him.

Sadly, indeed, people mourned him.

After his death his officers dispatched his dying message to Sun Quan, who burst into loud wailing at the sad tiding. When he opened the letter he saw that the deceased general had recommended Lu Su as his successor. This is the letter:

Possessing but ordinary abilities, there was no reason why I should have been the recipient of your confidence and high office, but I have spared no efforts in the leadership of your great army in order that I might prove my gratitude. Yet none can measure life and the number of our days is ordained by fate. Before I could attain my desires my feeble body has failed me. How I regret this! At present Cao Cao is threatening us in the north and our battle with him is not yet over, while Liu Bei lives on our land, ready to fall on us like a fierce tiger. None can foretell the fate of the empire in these weary days of stress for the officers and of particular anxiety for you, my lord.

Lu Su is most loyal, careful in all matters and a suitable man to succeed to my office. When a man is near death his words are sincere. If you would give it a favorable consideration I would die contented.

“He had talents worthy to be a king’s counselor,” cried Sun Quan, amid his tears. “He has left me, alas! too soon, and whom can I depend upon? But he recommended Lu Su and I can do nothing better than take that advice.”

Thus he appointed Lu Su commander-in-chief. In the meantime, he also saw to it that the coffin of his beloved general was sent back to Caisang for the funeral.

On the night of Zhou Yu’s death, Zhuge Liang was gazing up at the heavens when he saw a bright star fall to the earth. “Zhou Yu is dead,” he said to himself with a smile. At dawn he told this to Liu Bei, who sent men to find out, and they soon came back to confirm his death.

“Now that he is dead, what will happen?” asked Liu Bei.

“Lu Su is sure to succeed him,” said Zhuge Liang. “I see in the heavens signs of an assembly of capable men in the east so I will go there under the pretext of mourning for Zhou Yu. I will find some able scholars there to help you.”

“But the officers of Wu might harm you,” said Liu Bei.

“While Zhou Yu was alive I had no fear—is there anything to dread now that he is gone?”

However, he took Zhao Yun as commander of his escort of five hundred soldiers when he embarked for Baqiu, and on the way he heard of Lu Su’s succession to the late general’s post. As the coffin of Zhou Yu had been sent to Caisang, Zhuge Liang continued his journey there and, on landing, was kindly received by Lu Su. The officers of Wu did not conceal their enmity but the sight of the redoubtable Zhao Yun, always close at hand, kept them from trying to hurt Zhuge Liang.

The sacrificial offerings brought by Zhuge Liang were arranged in order before the bier and he himself poured the libation. Then he knelt and read this chant of lamentation:

Alas, Gong-Jin (Zhou Yu)! How tragic it is for you to die in your prime! One’s length of life is in the hands of God, yet do men suffer and my heart is deeply grieved for you. I pour this libation that your spirit may enjoy its fragrance.

How I lament for you! I recall your younger days passed in the companionship of Sun Ce, when, generous in your care for the needy, you gave up your abode for him.

I recall your ardent youth when you distinguished yourself in conquering the land south of the Great River.

I recall your ripe strength when you guarded the distant Baqiu, putting fear into the heart of Liu Biao, destroying rebels and ensuring safety.

I recall the grace of your manhood. Married to a fair maid of the Qiao family, son-in-law of a minister, you were such as would add luster to the Han Court.

I recall your resolute spirit. You stood firm and withstood all obstacles. As in the beginning your wings drooped not, so in the end your pinions spread wide.

I recall your abandon when your false friend, Jiang Gan, came to persuade you at Poyang. There you manifested your lofty ideals.

I recall your magnificent talents, proved in civil administration as in military arts. Employing the scheme of fire you weakened the strength of the fierce enemy and defeated him in the end.

I recall you as you were but yesterday, bold and successful, and I weep for your untimely death. Prostrate I bleed with sorrow. You were loyal and upright in heart, noble and talented by nature. Your life has been but three decades but your fame will endure for ages.

How I grieve for you! My insides writhe with sorrow and my deep-seated sadness will never cease. The very heavens are darkened. The army is sad; your lord sheds tears; your friends weep floods.

Scanty of ability am I, yet even of me you begged plans and sought schemes to aid Wu to repulse Cao Cao, to restore the Hans and comfort the Lius. Joined in the same cause our two sides assisted each other in every move, for without one the other would not exist. And there was no worry for us then.

Alas, my friend! The quick and the dead are ever separate; they mingle never. If in the deep shades spirits have understanding you now read my inmost heart, yet hereafter there will be none on earth to comprehend.

Alas, the pain!

Pray accept my offerings.

The dirge finished, Zhuge Liang bowed to the ground while tears gushed forth in floods. The officers who stood by the bier said one to another, “People lied when they said these two were enemies; look how sad Zhuge Liang is at our commander’s death.” Lu Su was particularly touched by this display of feeling and he thought to himself, “Clearly Zhuge Liang loved him much, but Gong-jin (Zhou Yu) was not broad-minded enough and that brought him his death.”

Before the Sleeping Dragon emerged from his Nanyang retreat
Many brilliant men had descended upon this earth;

Since, Oh azure Heaven, you made Zhou Yu
Why needed dusty earth produce a Zhuge Liang?

Lu Su gave a banquet for Zhuge Liang, after which the guest took his leave. Just as he was embarking his arm was clutched by a person in a Taoist robe, who said with a laugh, “You literally drove Zhou Yu to his death, yet you come here as a mourner. Isn’t this an open insult to Wu! It’s as good as saying they have no one left.”

Zhuge Liang turned at once and saw that it was none other than his old friend Pang Tong, or Phoenix Fledgling. Then he laughed in his turn, and hand in hand the two went down into the ship, where they had a heart to heart talk. Before leaving, Zhuge Liang gave his friend a letter and said, “I don’t think Sun Quan will use you as you merit. If you find life here but slightly distasteful, come to Jingzhou and help me to support my master. He is liberal and virtuous and will appreciate what you have spent your life in learning.”

Then they parted and Zhuge Liang went alone to Jingzhou.

Lu Su had the coffin of Zhou Yu taken to Wuhu, where Sun Quan mourned it in deep lamentations and gave orders to bury him with great honor in his native place. The dead general left two sons and a daughter, the sons being named Xun and Yin, and Sun Quan treated them with tenderness.

Then Lu Su went to see his master and said, “I have been wrongly recommended by Gong-jin for I am but a man of mediocre talent and am unfitted for this post. But I can commend to you a certain able man conversant with all knowledge. In strategy he is no inferior to Guan Zhong or Yue Yi, and in war, his plans are as good as those of Sun Wu and Wu Qi. Zhou Yu often took his advice and Zhuge Liang admires him. And he lives close at hand. Why not employ him?”

This was good news for Sun Quan, who asked the man’s name, and when he heard it was Pang Tong, he replied, “Yes, I know him by reputation. Let him come.”

So Pang Tong was invited to the palace and introduced to the master. After the initial greetings Sun Quan looked at his visitor and was disappointed with the man’s appearance, which was indeed extraordinary: he had bushy eyebrows, a turned-up nose, a dark skin, and a stubby beard. So Sun Quan was prejudiced against him.

“What is the specialty of your learning?” he asked.

Pang Tong replied, “One must not be narrow, but must adapt to circumstances.”

“How does your learning compare with that of Zhou Yu?” asked Sun Quan.

“Mine is very different from his.”

Now Sun Quan had always liked his late general most and he could not bear to hear him disparaged. This speech of Pang Tong’s only increased his dislike. So he said, “You may retire, sir. I will send for you when I can employ you.”

Pang Tong uttered one long sigh and went away. When he had left Lu Su said, “My lord, why not employ him?”