The Three Kingdoms Volume 2 (71 page)

This enraged Cao Cao still more. He ordered the guards to throw the Taoist priest into prison and put a large wooden collar around his neck, securing it with nails and chains. But the jailers who watched over him soon noticed that the collar and chains had fallen off while the victim lay fast asleep, not injured in the least.

For seven days they locked him up in prison without giving him any food or water, yet at the end of the week they found him sitting upright on the ground looking rosy-cheeked, the very image of health itself.

The jailers reported this to Cao Cao, who had the prisoner brought before him and questioned.

“I can go without food for dozens of years,” said the Taoist, “or eat a thousand sheep in a day.”

Cao Cao was at the end of his resources, unable to prevail against such a man.

That day there was to be a great banquet at the new palace, and guests came in crowds. When the wine cups were passing freely, suddenly the same Taoist appeared in wooden clogs. All faces turned in his direction, surprised and bewildered. Planting himself in front of the great assembly, the Taoist said, “Your Highness, here you have an abundance of delicacies on the table and a glorious company of guests. Now there are many rare and beautiful objects from various parts of the world. Is there anything lacking on your table? Just name it and I will get it for you.”

Cao Cao replied, “Yes, I want a dragon’s liver to make soup—can you get that?”

“Where is the difficulty?” replied the Taoist.

With a writing brush the Taoist immediately drew a dragon on the whitewashed wall of the banquet hall. Then he flicked his sleeve over it and the dragon’s belly opened of itself, from which he took out the liver all fresh and bleeding.

“You had the liver hidden in your sleeve,” said Cao Cao, incredulous. “Then there will be another test,” said the Taoist. “It is winter and every plant outside is dead. What flower would you like? Name any one you fancy.”

“I want nothing but peony,” said Cao Cao.

“That is easy,” answered the Taoist.

At his request the attendants brought in a big flower pot, which they placed in full view of the guests. Then the Taoist sprinkled some water over it, and instantly up came a peony with two fully blooming flowers. The guests were astonished, and they asked the Taoist to be seated and gave him wine and food. Presently a fish dish was brought onto the table.

“We need the perch of the Pine River to make this dish taste best,” said the Taoist.

“How can you get such a fish a thousand
li
away?” asked Cao Cao.

“What is so difficult?”

He had rod and hook brought to him, went down to the pond below the banquet hall, and very soon dozens of beautiful perch lay on the steps.

“I have always kept these in my pond, of course,” said Cao Cao.

“Do you think you can deceive me? All perch have two gills except those from the Pine River, which have two pairs. That is their distinguishing feature.”

The guests crowded round to look, and, surely enough, the fish had four gills.

“To cook this perch one needs purple sprout ginger, though,” said the Taoist.

“Can you also produce that?” asked Cao Cao.

“No problem.”

He told the attendants to bring in a golden bowl, which he covered with his robe. In no time the special kind of ginger filled the bowl, and he presented it to the host. Cao Cao put out his hand to pick some, when suddenly a book appeared in the bowl. The title was
Meng-de’s New Treatise
, which was the very book he had written on the art of war and later burned. He took it out and read it. Not a word of his treatise was missing.

Cao Cao was mystified. The Taoist took up a jade cup that stood on the table, filled it with fine wine and presented it to Cao Cao.

“Drink this and you will live a thousand years.”

“Drink it first yourself,” said Cao Cao.

The Taoist took the jade pin from his headdress and made a slit in the cup, dividing the wine into two portions. Then he drank one half and handed the cup with the other half to Cao Cao, who angrily refused it. The Taoist then threw the cup into the air, where it was transformed into a white turtledove, which circled around the banquet hall.

All faces were turned upward following the flight of the bird, and so no one had noticed the departure of the Taoist. But he was gone—and soon the gate warden reported that he had left the palace.

Cao Cao said, “A wizard like this must be put to death or he will do some mischief.”

The redoubtable Xu Chu and a company of ironclad cavalry were dispatched to arrest the Taoist. At the city gate they saw the Taoist not far ahead, still wearing his wooden clogs and walking along at a leisurely pace. Xu Chu dashed after him, but swift as he galloped, he could not catch up with the Taoist. He kept up the chase right to a hill, where he saw a shepherd lad with a flock of sheep. The Taoist walked into the sheep, and there he simply vanished. Cao Cao’s angry henchman slew the whole flock of sheep and went back, leaving the poor lad weeping bitterly beside his slain sheep.

Suddenly the boy heard a voice from one of the severed heads, telling him to replace the heads on the bodies of his sheep. Terrified, the lad covered his face and fled. Then he heard a voice calling to him from behind: “Don’t run away—you’ll have your sheep again.”

He turned, and lo! The sheep were all alive again and the Taoist was driving them along. The boy was about to ask him how he did that, when the Taoist, with a flick of his sleeves, was gone from sight.

The shepherd went home and told all these marvels to his master, who daring not conceal the truth, reported it to Cao Cao. Then sketches of the Taoist were posted everywhere with explicit orders to arrest him. Within three days, three or four hundred suspects had been arrested in the city and beyond, each of them being blind in one eye, lame in one leg, and wearing a rattan headdress, a black loose robe, and wooden clogs. They were all alike and all answered to the description of the missing Taoist.

The news caused a great sensation in the city. Cao Cao ordered his officers to sprinkle the gathered Taoists with the blood of pigs and sheep to exorcise the witchcraft and then take them away to the drill ground in the south of the city. There he himself led five hundred guards to surround the throng of the arrested and slew them all.

However, after the head was severed, from the neck of each one there flew up a wreath of black vapor, and all these wreaths converged in the air into the image of the real Taoist, who summoned to him a white crane out of the sky and mounted it. Clapping his hands, he cried merrily, “The rats of the earth follow the golden tiger, and the doer of evil will perish in a single day.”

The officers were ordered to shoot arrows at both the bird and man. At this a tremendous gale rampaged, sending stones and sand whirling in the air. And an even more incredible thing happened. All the corpses suddenly jumped up from the ground, each holding his own head in his hands, and rushed toward the hall as if to strike Cao Cao. His officers and advisors covered their eyes, too frightened to take care of their master.

The power of a wicked minister will overturn a state,

The mystical craft of a Taoist produces wonders great.

The fate of Cao Cao will be told in the next chapter.

*
One
dan
is equal to 100 catties, or 110 lbs (50 kilograms).

*
One
dou
is equal to ten
sheng
, or two gallons (ten liters).

†
A famous mountain in modern Sichuan, one of the four Buddhist mountains in China.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

Guan Lu Divines by the Book of Changes

Five Loyal Souls Die for Their Country

T
he
sight of the corpses of the slain rising to their feet in the gale and running toward him was too much for Cao Cao, and he collapsed to the ground. Presently the wind subsided and the corpses disappeared. His attendants helped Cao Cao inside, but the fright resulted in a serious illness.

A poem was written to praise the mystic Taoist:

He studied his magical books,

He was learned in mystical lore,
And with magical fleetness of foot
He could travel the wide world o’er.
The mystic arts that he knew,
He employed in an earnest essay
To reform the bad heart of Cao,
But in vain; Cao held to his way.

Cao Cao’s illness seemed beyond the art of the physicians or the power of drugs. At this time an official called Xu Zhi came from the capital to visit the Prince of Wei at his new palace and was asked to divine by the
Book of Changes
.
*

“Your Highness, have you ever heard of Guan Lu, the man who is most gifted in the skill of divination?” asked Xu Zhi.

“I have heard of him, but I do not know how clever he is. Tell me about him,” replied Cao Cao.

“He is a native of Pingyuan, ugly and coarse in appearance and lives a rather dissipated life, often indulging himself in drinking. His father was once chief of Jiqiu in the Langye district. As a lad Guan Lu loved to study the stars, staying up all night to watch them, in spite of the prohibition of his parents. He used to say that if domestic fowls and wild geese knew the seasons instinctively, how much more should a man know. While playing with other boys he would draw pictures of the sky on the ground, putting in the sun, moon, and stars. When he grew older he understood the
Book of Changes
very well and could predict accurately by observing the directions of the winds. He was a marvelous mathematician and excellent physiognomist.

“His fame reached the ears of the Prefect of Langye, who called him to his residence for an interview. There were present some hundred or so other guests, every one of them an able speaker.

“‘I am young and lack courage,’ said Guan Lu to the prefect. ‘Could you give me three
sheng
(liters) of good wine to loosen my tongue?’

“The prefect was surprised at the request, but he had the wine brought to him, and when he had drunk it, Guan Lu asked the prefect, ‘Are these gentlemen seated here going to debate with me?’

“‘No,’ said the prefect. ‘I myself am anxious to be your contender.’

“‘Then they began a discussion upon the meaning of the
Book of Changes
. Guan Lu’s words poured forth like a torrent, and his ideas were most profound. The prefect tried hard to challenge him with difficult questions but Guan Lu swept them away in a stream of eloquence. So they went on the whole day, without even pausing for food. Both the prefect and his guests were filled with admiration for him. From then on he came to be known as a prodigy.

“He was also famous for his practice of divination. Once there were three brothers of the Guo family who all became lame, and they called in Guan Lu to cast lots and discover the reason for this. Guan Lu said, ‘According to the lots there is a female ghost in your family tomb, who was your aunt, wife of the brother of either your father or your mother. Some years ago, in a time of famine, for the sake of a few measures of grain, you pushed her into a well and crushed her head with a big stone so that she suffered intensely. The poor soul complained to the Most High, and your lameness is retribution for that crime. No prayer will avert the punishment.’ The three brothers wept and admitted their guilt.