Pang Tong, startled by the words, spun around to see who had spoken—only to find it was Xu Shu. Recognizing an old friend, Pang Tong calmed his heart. Glancing around to ensure no one else was near, he said, “If you expose my plan, you will have doomed the eighty-one prefectures of Jiangdong—all their people will die because of you!” Xu Shu smiled. “And what of the 830,000 men here? What of their lives?” “Xuande,” Pang Tong said, using Xu Shu’s style name, “do you truly intend to ruin my scheme?” Xu Shu replied, “I am forever grateful for the kindness of Imperial Uncle Liu Bei, and I have never forgotten my debt to him. Cao Cao drove my mother to her death, and I have sworn never to devise a single stratagem for him. How could I now break your excellent plan? But I am here with the army, and when we are defeated, jade and stone will burn together—how can I escape the disaster? You must teach me a way to slip away, and I will keep silent and flee far from here.” Pang Tong laughed. “With such foresight, Master Xuande, surely this is no difficulty at all!” Xu Shu bowed. “I beg you, sir, for your instruction.” Pang Tong leaned close and whispered a few words into Xu Shu’s ear. Xu Shu was overjoyed and bowed deeply in thanks. Pang Tong then took his leave, boarded his boat, and returned to Jiangdong.
That very night, Xu Shu secretly sent his trusted men to spread rumors throughout the various camps. By the next day, soldiers in every stockade were huddled in small groups, whispering among themselves. Soon, scouts reported to Cao Cao: “There is a rumor spreading through the army that Han Sui and Ma Teng of Xiliang have rebelled and are marching on Xuchang.” Cao Cao was greatly alarmed. He immediately summoned his advisors and said, “When I led the army south, the only threat I feared was Han Sui and Ma Teng. Though this rumor may be false, we cannot afford to ignore it.” Before he had finished speaking, Xu Shu stepped forward. “I, Xu Shu, have been honored by the Chancellor’s patronage, yet I regret I have performed no meritorious service in return. Allow me to take three thousand men and ride day and night to the San Pass to guard that strategic choke point. If there is any emergency, I will report it immediately.” Cao Cao was pleased. “If you go, I will have nothing to worry about! There are already troops stationed at San Pass—you shall command them. I will assign three thousand cavalry and infantry, with Zang Ba as your vanguard. Go at once—do not delay.” Xu Shu took his leave of Cao Cao and departed with Zang Ba. This was Pang Tong’s plan to save Xu Shu.
A poet of the time recorded: “Cao Cao, campaigning south, worried daily of Ma Teng and Han Sui raising their spears. A single word from the Phoenix Fledgling saved Xu Shu—like a fish slipping free from the fishhook.”
After sending Xu Shu away, Cao Cao felt somewhat more at ease. He mounted his horse and first inspected the land camps along the river, then the naval camps. He boarded a great warship anchored in the center of the fleet, flying the marshal’s banner. On either side, the naval camps were arrayed, and a thousand crossbows were hidden aboard the ships. Cao Cao took his seat at the highest point. It was the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, in the winter of the thirteenth year of the Jian’an era. The weather was clear and bright, the wind calm, the waves still. Cao Cao ordered: “Prepare wine and music on the great ship. Tonight, I will feast with all my generals.” As dusk fell, the moon rose over the eastern mountains, shining as bright as day. The Yangtze River stretched out like a white silk sash. Cao Cao sat upon the great ship, surrounded by several hundred attendants in embroidered brocade, bearing halberds and spears. Civil and military officials all took their seats in proper order. Cao Cao gazed at the Southern Screen Mountain, its colors like a painting; eastward, he saw the borderlands of Chaisang; westward, the river at Xiakou; southward, Mount Fan; northward, the Black Forest. Looking in all directions, the vastness filled him with joy. He said to his assembled officers, “Since I first raised my army to rid the realm of evil, I have sworn to sweep clean the four seas and pacify all under Heaven. The only region I have not yet taken is Jiangnan. Now I have a million valiant troops, and with your loyal service, how can we fail?
Once we have conquered Jiangnan and the realm is at peace, I will share wealth and honor with you all, and we shall enjoy a time of great tranquility.” The civil and military officials rose to thank him. “May we soon hear the songs of victory! Our lives will forever depend upon the Chancellor’s blessings.” Cao Cao was overjoyed and ordered the wine to be served. They drank until midnight, and Cao Cao, deep in his cups, pointed to the southern shore. “Zhou Yu and Lu Su do not recognize the will of Heaven! Now that we have defectors who will become a thorn in their side, Heaven itself aids me.” Xun Yu said, “My lord, do not speak so openly—it may be leaked.” Cao Cao laughed heartily. “Everyone at this table and all my attendants are my trusted confidants. What harm is there in speaking?” He then pointed toward Xiakou. “Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang! You little ants think you can shake Mount Tai? How foolish!” Turning to his generals, he said, “I am fifty-four years old this year. When I take Jiangnan, I will have a special joy. In the old days, Qiao the Elder was my close friend, and I knew his two daughters were beauties of the realm. But then Sun Ce and Zhou Yu married them. I have just built the Bronze Sparrow Tower on the Zhang River. When I take Jiangnan, I will take those two beauties and place them in the tower, to delight my old age—then my wish will be fulfilled!” He laughed heartily. The Tang poet Du Mu wrote of this: “The broken halberd, sunk in sand, its iron not yet rusted away—I wash and polish it, recognizing the days of old.
If the eastern wind had not aided Zhou Yu, the two Qiaos would have been locked deep in Bronze Sparrow Tower in the spring.”
As Cao Cao was laughing and talking, he suddenly heard the cawing of crows flying southward through the night. “Why do those crows cry in the night?” Cao Cao asked. His attendants replied, “The crows see the bright moon and mistake it for dawn, so they leave their trees and cry.” Cao Cao laughed again. By now he was drunk. He took his long spear, stood at the prow of the ship, and poured wine as an offering into the river. He drank three full cups, then, leaning on his spear, said to his generals, “With this spear, I crushed the Yellow Turbans, captured Lü Bu, destroyed Yuan Shu, and vanquished Yuan Shao. I have marched deep into the northern steppes and reached as far as Liaodong. I have roamed across the realm—truly, I have fulfilled the ambitions of a great man. Now, facing this scene, my heart swells with emotion. I shall compose a song, and you shall join in the chorus.” He sang: “Facing wine, we should sing—how long is a man’s life? Like the morning dew, the days gone by are many. My heart is stirred with passion, yet sorrowful thoughts are hard to forget. What can ease my sorrow? Only Du Kang wine. The blue robes of scholars stir my longing heart; for your sake, I have pondered until now. The deer cry out, grazing on the wild herbs; I have noble guests, and I play the zither and flute. Bright as the moon, when will it cease? Sorrow wells up within me, unending! Through the crisscrossing paths, you have come to visit me; we talk of old times and share feasts, remembering past kindness. The moon is bright, the stars are few; the black crows fly south. They circle the tree three times, finding no branch to rest on. The mountain never tires of height; the water never tires of depth. The Duke of Zhou spat out his food in welcome—and all the world turned their hearts to him.”
When he finished the song, the others joined in, and all laughed together. Suddenly, a man stepped forward from the assembly. “When armies are locked in battle and soldiers are giving their all, why does the Chancellor utter such inauspicious words?” Cao Cao looked at the speaker. It was Liu Fu, the Provincial Inspector of Yangzhou, a native of Xiang County in Pei. He had risen from the ranks at Hefei, established the provincial government, gathered the scattered people, founded schools, expanded military colonies, and promoted good governance. He had long served Cao Cao with many achievements. Cao Cao, still leaning on his spear, demanded, “What is inauspicious about my words?” Liu Fu replied, “‘The moon is bright, the stars are few; the black crows fly south. They circle the tree three times, finding no branch to rest on.’ These are ominous words.” Cao Cao flew into a rage. “How dare you spoil my pleasure!” He thrust his spear forward and ran Liu Fu through, killing him on the spot. All the officers were horrified. The feast was immediately ended. The next day, when Cao Cao sobered up, he was filled with regret and remorse. Liu Fu’s son, Liu Xi, requested permission to take his father’s body for burial. Cao Cao wept. “Yesterday, in my drunkenness, I killed your father by mistake. My regret is beyond measure. He shall be buried with the rites of a Three Excellency.” He also provided soldiers to escort the funeral cortege, which departed that very day.
The next day, the naval commanders Mao Jie and Yu Jin came to Cao Cao’s tent. “All the large and small ships have been chained together, as ordered. The flags and weapons are all prepared. We await the Chancellor’s command to set a date for the advance.” Cao Cao took his seat on the great central warship of the fleet and summoned all his generals to receive their orders. The land and naval forces were divided under five-colored banners: the central naval force, under the yellow banner, was commanded by Mao Jie and Yu Jin; the vanguard, under the red banner, by Zhang He; the rear guard, under the black banner, by Lü Qian; the left wing, under the blue banner, by Wen Ping; the right wing, under the white banner, by Lü Tong. For the cavalry and infantry: the vanguard, under the red banner, by Xu Huang; the rear guard, under the black banner, by Li Dian; the left wing, under the blue banner, by Yue Jin; the right wing, under the white banner, by Xiahou Yuan. The overall coordinators for land and water routes were Xiahou Dun and Cao Hong. The roving battle supervisors were Xu Chu and Zhang Liao. The remaining valiant generals each took their positions according to their units. When the orders were given, the naval camp sounded the drums three times, and the warships of each unit emerged through their respective gates. That day, a strong northwest wind suddenly arose. The ships hoisted their sails, cutting through the waves, as steady as if on solid ground. The northern soldiers, aboard their vessels, displayed their courage with enthusiasm, thrusting spears and swinging blades. The vanguard, rear, left, and right units kept their banners orderly and distinct. In addition, fifty small patrol boats moved back and forth, keeping watch and urging on the troops. Cao Cao stood upon the command platform, watching the drills, his heart filled with joy. He believed this was the key to certain victory. He ordered the sails to be furled and the ships to return to their camps in proper order.
Back in his tent, Cao Cao said to his advisors, “If Heaven had not aided me, how could I have obtained the Phoenix Fledgling’s brilliant plan? With the ships chained together, crossing the river is indeed like walking on level ground.” Cheng Yu said, “Chaining the ships together does make them steady. But if the enemy uses fire, it will be difficult to escape. We must not neglect this danger.” Cao Cao laughed heartily. “Cheng Zhongde, you have long-term concerns, but there are things you fail to see.” Xun Yu said, “Cheng Yu’s words are correct. Why does the Chancellor laugh?” Cao Cao replied, “To use fire, one must rely on the wind. In the depth of winter, we have only west and north winds—how could there be an east or south wind? Our army is positioned in the northwest; the enemy is on the south bank. If they use fire, they would only burn their own troops. Why should I fear? If this were the tenth month, the ‘little spring’ season, I would have already taken precautions.” All the generals bowed in admiration. “The Chancellor’s wisdom is far beyond ours.” Cao Cao then addressed them. “The troops from Qing, Xu, Yan, and Dai are not accustomed to boats. Without this plan, how could we cross the peril of the Great River?”
Just then, two generals stepped forward from the ranks. “Though we are northerners from You and Yan, we too can handle boats. We request twenty patrol boats to sail straight to the river mouth, capture the enemy’s banners and drums, and return—to show that the northern army can also fight on water!” Cao Cao looked at them—they were Jiao Chu and Zhang Nan, former officers under Yuan Shao. “You were both born and raised in the north,” Cao Cao said. “I fear you are not accustomed to boats. The soldiers of Jiangnan are expert sailors, trained to perfection. Do not treat your lives so lightly.” Jiao Chu and Zhang Nan shouted, “If we do not succeed, we will accept military punishment!” Cao Cao said, “All the warships are chained together. I have only small boats, each holding twenty men—they may not be suitable for battle.” Jiao Chu replied, “If we used large ships, where would be the skill? Give us twenty small boats. Zhang Nan and I will each command half. Let us go this very day straight to the Jiangnan naval camp, capture their banners, and take a general’s head!” Cao Cao said, “I will give you twenty boats and five hundred elite soldiers with long spears and strong crossbows. Tomorrow at dawn, I will send the main fleet out onto the river to provide distant support. I will also send Wen Ping with thirty patrol boats to cover your retreat.” Jiao Chu and Zhang Nan withdrew in high spirits.
The next day, the men ate at the fourth watch and were fully armed by the fifth. Soon, the sounds of drums and gongs echoed from the naval camp. The ships emerged from the camp and spread across the water. The Yangtze was covered with a tangle of blue and red banners. Jiao Chu and Zhang Nan led the twenty patrol boats through the camp gates and headed southward. On the southern shore, the previous night, the sounds of drums had been heard, and Zhou Yu’s scouts had reported that Cao Cao was drilling his navy. Zhou Yu went to the mountaintop to observe, but Cao Cao’s forces had already withdrawn. The next day, the drums thundered again, and soldiers rushed to high ground to watch. They saw small boats cutting through the waves toward them. The news was reported to Zhou Yu’s headquarters. Zhou Yu asked his officers, “Who dares to go out first?” Han Dang and Zhou Tai stepped forward together. “We will take the vanguard and break the enemy!” Zhou Yu was pleased and ordered all camps to maintain strict defense and not act rashly. Han Dang and Zhou Tai each took five patrol boats and set out, one on the left and one on the right.
Jiao Chu and Zhang Nan, relying on their reckless courage, rowed their small boats swiftly forward. Han Dang, wearing only a breastplate and gripping a long spear, stood at the prow of his boat. Jiao Chu’s boat reached him first, and he ordered his soldiers to loose a volley of arrows at Han Dang’s vessel. Han Dang used his shield to block them. Jiao Chu leveled his long spear and engaged Han Dang in combat. Han Dang struck with his spear, killing Jiao Chu instantly. Zhang Nan, coming up behind, shouted and charged forward. From an angle, Zhou Tai’s boat appeared. Zhang Nan stood at his prow with his spear, while archers on both sides exchanged arrows. Zhou Tai, with a shield on one arm and a sword in the other hand, leaped across the seven or eight feet between the boats, landing directly on Zhang Nan’s vessel. With a single stroke, he cut Zhang Nan down into the water, then slaughtered the boat’s crew. The remaining enemy boats rowed frantically back. Han Dang and Zhou Tai urged their boats in pursuit. Midway across the river, they met Wen Ping’s squadron. The two sides drew up and began to fight.
Zhou Yu, standing on the mountaintop with his generals, watched the northern fleet of massive warships arrayed in formation on the river, their banners and pennants orderly and disciplined. He then turned his gaze to the struggle between Wen Ping and his own commanders. Han Dang and Zhou Tai attacked with full force, and Wen Ping, unable to hold his ground, turned his boat and fled. Han and Zhou pressed the pursuit. Fearing they might be drawn too deep into enemy territory, Zhou Yu waved his white banner and ordered the gongs to sound the retreat. The two commanders turned their boats and returned. From the mountaintop, Zhou Yu watched as the enemy warships all entered their camp. He turned to his generals and said, “The northern warships are as dense as reeds, and Cao Cao is a man of many schemes. What plan can we use to break them?” Before anyone could answer, a sudden gust of wind snapped the yellow banner at the center of Cao Cao’s camp, sending it tumbling into the river. Zhou Yu laughed heartily. “An omen of ill fortune!” As he watched, a fierce gale arose, and the waves of the river crashed against the shore. A gust of wind blew the corner of a banner across Zhou Yu’s face. Suddenly, a thought struck him. He let out a great cry, fell backward, and vomited blood. His officers rushed to support him, but he had already lost consciousness. Truly: One moment he laughed, the next he cried—how could the southern army break the northern host? What would become of Zhou Yu? Let the next chapter reveal.