第dì一yī百bǎi十shí三sān回huí 丁dīng奉fèng定dìng计jì斩zhǎn孙sūn𬘭　　　姜jiāng维wéi斗dòu阵zhèn破pò邓dèng艾ài

Fearing lest reinforcements would strengthen his enemy beyond his own power of resistance, Chiang decided to retreat while he could. He sent all his stores and baggage away first with the footmen, and kept the cavalry to cover the retirement. The spies reported his movements to Têng Ai, who said, “He has gone because he knew that the main army would soon be upon him. Let him go, and do not follow. If we pursue he will play us some evil trick.” Scouts were sent to keep in touch with the retreating army, and when they returned they reported that preparations had been made in the Lo Valley to check any pursuit with fire. The officers praised the prescience of their leader. When Têng reported these matters he was commended, and the Prime Minister requested the king to confer a reward.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

The Prime Minister of Wu was greatly angered by the desertion of so many of his men and officers to Wei, and revenged himself by putting their families to death. King Liang disapproved of these acts of cruelty, but he was powerless.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

The young king was of an ingenious turn of mind, as will be seen from the following story. One day he went to the West Park to eat of the newly ripened plums. He bade one of the eunuchs bring some honey. It was brought, but there were lumps of dirt in it. The young king called the storekeeper and blamed him for carelessness. The storekeeper said he was very careful to keep his stores in good order, and the honey could not possibly have been fouled in the storehouse.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“Has any one asked you for honey lately?” asked the king. “One of the eunuchs asked for some a few days ago refused him. ” I “You defiled the honey out of spite,” said the king to the eunuch named. The man denied it. “It is very easy to tell,” said the king. “If the dirt has been lying in the honey for some time it will be soft all through.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

He broke one of the lumps, and it was quite dry inside. The eunuch then confessed. ​ This shows the king was quick-witted. But clever as he was, he could not control his Prime Minister, whose relatives were in command of all the garrisons and armies, so that he was unassailable.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

One day the young king, musing over his sorrows and feeling very miserable, began to weep. The officer in charge of the eunuchs, who was a “State Uncle,” stood by. “Sun Ch'ên holds all real power and does as he wishes, while I am despised,” said the king. “Something must be done.” Ch'üan Chi said, “I would think no sacrifice too great if Your Majesty would make use of me.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“If you could muster the guards and help General Liu to keep the gates, I would go and murder that ruffian. But you must not let anyone know, for if you tell your noble mother she will tell her brother, and that would be very serious for me.” Now Ch'üan’s mother was the Prime Minister’s sister.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“Will Your Majesty give me a command that I may have authority to act when the time comes?” said Ch'üan. “At the critical moment I could show the edict and hold back Sun’s supporters.” The command was given, and Ch'üan went home. But he could not keep his secret, and confided the plan to his father, Shang. His father told his wife that Sun would be got rid of in a few days. “Oh, you are going to kill him then,” said she. Although she seemed to approve with her tongue, she sent a secret messenger with a letter to the proposed victim. That same night Sun Ch'ên called in his four soldier brothers, and the palace was surrounded. The conspirators were seized, with Liu Ch‘eng and Ch'üan Shang and all their families. About dawn the young king was disturbed by a commotion at the gates, and a servant told him that the palace was surrounded.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

The king knew that he had been betrayed. He turned on the Empress, who was of the Ch'üan house, and reproached her. “Your father and brother have upset all my plans.” Drawing his sword, he was dashing out when his Consort and her people clung to his clothing and held him back. After putting to death Liu Ch'êng and Ch'üan Shang, the Prime Minister Sun Ch'ên assembled the officers in the court and addressed them thus:—“The king is vicious and weak, depraved and foolish and unfit for his high office. Wherefore he must be deposed. Any of you who oppose will be punished as for conspiracy.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Only one of those present dared to say a word of protest. It was an officer named Hêng I, who said, “How dare you utter ​ such words? Our king is very intelligent, and I will not support you. I had rather die.” Death was his portion. Then Sun went into the palace and said to the king, “O unrighteous and unenlightened King, your death would be the only fitting reparation to make to the empire, but out of consideration for your ancestors you are only deposed and degraded to princely rank as Prince Hui-chi. I will select a worthy successor.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Li Tsung, the Chung-shu-lang , was ordered to bring in the the royal seal, which was delivered to Têng Chêng. The deposed ruler retired weeping.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

The rebel falsely styled himself as I Yin, the traitor posed as Huo Guang.

GLM · 2026 · machine-generated

Poor clever lord, who might not take his seat in court.

GLM · 2026 · machine-generated

The sage example of the wise I Yin Perverted now to traitor’s use we see; And Ho Kuang’s faithful services are made A cloak to cover vilest treachery. Even able princes are but toys of fate, And need our pity, fall‘n from high estate. Then two officers of the court, Sun K‘ai and Tung Chao, went as envoys to Hulin to request Sun Hsiu, Prince of Langya, to ascend the throne. The King-elect had had some premonition of the high honour to which he was now called, for in a dream he ascended into the skies seated on a dragon. Only the dragon seemed to have no tail. He woke up in a fright, and the next day brought the messengers. He set out. At Ch'üa his carriage was stopped by a venerable old man who offered felicitations. “Changes are inevitable, and I wish you a prosperous journey,” said the aged one.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

At Pusait‘ing awaited an officer with a chariot, but Sun Hsiu’s modesty would not allow him to mount it. He remained in his own simple carriage and therein travelled to the capital. Officials lined the road to salute him, and he dismounted to return their salutations. Then the Prime Minister stood forth and bade them take the newly-elected king by the arm and lead him into the Great Hall, where, after thrice refusing the honour, he at last took his seat and received the jade seal passed from one ruler to another. When all the officers had made obeisance, there were the usual amnesties, promotions, honours and change of reign-style. Jun-An , “Eternal Tranquillity,” was the name of the new reign. Sun Ch'ên was confirmed as Prime Minister, with the governorship of Chingchou. Moreover, Sun Hao, the son of his elder brother, was created Marquis of Wuch'êng.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Sun Ch'ên, with five marquisates in his family and the whole army under their command, was immensely powerful, able to set up and pull down at will. The new king secretly feared ​ him, and although outwardly he showed him great favour, yet he kept careful watch over his Prime Minister, whose arrogance knew no bounds.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

In the autumn Sun Ch'ên sent into the palace presents of oxen and wine as birthday gifts. The king declined them. The Minister was very annoyed and took the presents to General Pu’s residence, where they two dined together. When warmed with wine, Sun said, “When I deposed the present Prince Hui-chi many people urged me to take the throne myself. But I acted magnanimously and set up this present king. Now I suffer the mortification of seeing my presents rejected. You will see what will come of this slight.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Chang sympathised, but the next day he secretly told the king, and the king’s fears increased so that he could not rest. Shortly after this, Sun sent a large body of troops under the command of Mêng Tsung into camp at Wuch‘ang, and he armed them from the state arsenals. Whereupon Wei Miao and Shih Shuo secretly memorialised the Throne that Sun’s action pointed to rebellion.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Then the king called in Chang Pu to consult, and he recommended Ting Fêng as an able and trustworthy officer. So Ting was called and taken into the king’s confidence. “Have no anxiety,” said Ting. “I will find some way of ridding the state of this evil.” “What do you propose?” “When the winter Court is held, and all the officers are assembled, spread a great banquet and invite Sun. I shall be ready to act.” Wei Miao and Shih Shuo were taken into the plot and were to do what was possible outside the palace, and Chang Pu saw to arrangements within.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

One night a heavy gale came on to blow, which tore up great trees by the roots. However, by daylight it had abated, and that morning a king’s messenger arrived bearing an invitation to a banquet in the royal palace. Sun rose from his couch, and, as he did so, fell flat on the ground as though he had been pushed from behind. This accident troubled him, and he felt apprehensive, so he called half a score of his trusty men to act as his escort to the palace. As he was leaving home his family besought him not to go out, for they feared the omens of the gale in the night and the fall that morning. However, he made light of their fears and said no one would dare come near him since the family was so strong.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“But if there is anything amiss I will signal.” So he took his seat, and the carriage set out. When he reached the palace the king rose from his place to welcome him, and at table he sat in the seat of honour. The banquet proceeded. ​ “There is a fire outside; what does that mean?” said a guest presently. Sun rose to go out, but the king said, “There is no danger, and there are plenty of soldiers outside.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Just at that moment General Chang entered at the head of a couple of score of armed men. He rushed up the banquet chamber shouting, “I hold a command to slay the rebel Sun.” Instantly the Prime Minister was seized. He fell prostrate before the king, knocking his head on the ground and crying, “Spare my life! Exile me to my own place, but let me live.” “Did you exile any of your victims?” said the king, angrily. The order went forth to carry out the execution, and Sun was hustled out and put to death. No single person raised a hand to help him. Then it was proclaimed that Sun was the only culprit and no other would be questioned.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Then at Chang’s request the king went up on the Tower of the Five Phoenixes. The brothers of the Prime Minister were brought before him and also condemned to death. After this their families were slain, so that many hundreds suffered death. Not content with all these things, the tomb of Sun Hsün was broken open and his corpse beheaded. Magnificent tombs were raised to his victims, Chuko Ch'üo, Têng Yin and others. Thus at last loyalty was rewarded, and the banished were permitted to return home with full pardon. The conspirators were rewarded.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

News of this revolution was sent into Shu, and King Liu Ch‘an sent an envoy into Wu with felicitations. The envoy, Hsueh Hsü by name, at his audience was questioned about affairs in the west, and he told King Sun Hsiu, saying, “All affairs of state are in the hands of a certain eunuch named Huang Hao, and all the courtiers look up to him as to a father. At Court plain truth is never heard, and the country people look sallow and starved. The whole country appears on the verge of destruction. The birds on the roof do not know that the building is about to be burned.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“Ah! If only Chuko Liang, The Warlike, was still alive; how different all would be!” said King Hsui, with a sigh. Letters were prepared saying that beyond doubt Ssŭma Chao intended usurpation, and when that came about in Wei, both Wu and Shu would be invaded. Wherefore both should be ready.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

On the arrival of these letters Chiang Wei hastened to seek permission to attempt another expedition. Consent being given, a large army marched into Hanchung, with Liao Hua and Chang I as van-leaders. Wang Han, Chiang Pin, Chiang Shu and Hu Chi were on the wings, while Chiang Wei and Hsiahou Pa led the main column. Asked what he thought should be the first objective, Hsiahou Pa replied, “There is no better fighting ground than Ch‘ishan, ​ as the tactics of the late minister made evident, and it is the only good exit.” So thither the armies marched, and they camped at the entrance to the valley. At this time Têng Ai had a training camp at Ch‘ishan drilling the Shênsi troops. The scouts told him of the coming of the western men, and he ascended a hill to see and verify their reports. He seemed pleased when he saw the enemy camp. “They have just done as I foresaw,” said he.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Now Têng Ai had carefully considered the “pulse” of the countryside and so had not interfered with the Shu army when it was on the march or settling into camp. Moreover, he had excavated a subterranean road to the spot where he had thought they would halt, and their “left” camp had been pitched just on it. Wang and Chiang Chi commanded in that camp.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Têng Ai called his son and Shih Tsuan and sent them to attack, one on each flank. He sent men into the underground road, which opened in rear of the threatened camp.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

As the newly made camp was not yet well fortified, its two commanders exercised great care and kept their men under arms all night, watching with vigilance. So when the alarm was given they had but to seize their weapons and go out. But as the two leaders were mounting their steeds Têng Ai also attacked, and two faces had to be defended. Soon they found the position untenable and fled.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

When Chiang Wei saw that his left camp had been attacked on two sides he mounted and took his position in front of the centre camp. “Let no one move on pain of death!” he shouted. “Stand still, and when the enemy approaches shoot.” The right camp was ordered to stand fast. His defence was effective. Half a score of times the men of Wei came forward, only to be driven back before the arrows and bolts of the defenders. Daylight found the Shu camps still firm, and Têng Ai drew off.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“Chiang Wei has indeed learned of K‘ung-ming,” said Têng. “His men stood the night attack without flinching, and the leaders took the chances of battle quite calmly. He is able.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

When the two commanders of the camp that had been attacked went to confess their fault, Chiang said, “It was less your fault than mine, for I did not clearly recognise the nature of the terrain.” So no penalty was inflicted. The camp was made stronger, and the subterranean passage was filled with the bodies of the slain. Achallenge to battle for the following day was sent to Têng, who accepted it joyfully.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

​ Next day the two armies were arrayed in front of Ch‘ishan, the men of Shu according to the “Eight Formations” designed by Chuko Liang, which are called Heaven, Earth, Wind, Cloud, Bird, Serpent, Dragon and Tiger. While the manœuvre was in progress, Têng recognised it as the pa-kua and placed his men accordingly. Chiang Wei then gripped his spear and rode out, saying, “You have made a good imitation of my eight, but can you work variations?”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“You call these yours! Did you think that you alone held the secret? Since I have made it, of course I know the variations.” Têng re-entered his ranks, gave the signal officers certain orders, and the “eight eights” of the variations were evolved in rapid succession. Then he rode to the front again. “What of my evolutions?” asked he. “Not so bad; would you like to try a surrounding move with me?” replied Chiang. “Why not?”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

The two armies moved in orderly ranks. Têng stood in the midst of his army giving the necessary orders. Then the clash came, but his tactics did not grip. Then Chiang waved a certain signal flag, and his force suddenly assumed the form of a serpent coiled on the ground with Têng in the centre. Shouts arose all about him. He could not understand what had happened and began to feel afraid. Gradually the men of Shu closed in upon him, and he saw no way of escape. “Têng Ai, you must surrender,” cried the soldiers. “Indeed I am in the toils,” he replied.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

Suddenly from the north-west a cohort dashed in. To Têng’s great joy they were soldiers of Wei, and they crossed over and released him. The leader was Ssŭma Wang. But although Têng had been rescued, his nine camps were seized by his enemy and he had to retire. He led his army to the south of the River Wei and halted.

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain

“How did you know exactly where to strike?” asked Têng of his rescuer. Ssŭma replied, “In my youth I studied tactics and was friendly with Kuang Yüan of P‘ingshih. He explained that formation to me. Chiang Wei used what is known as “The Serpent Coil,” and the only way to break it is to attack the head, which I saw was in the north west.”

Brewitt-Taylor · 1925 · public domain