CHAPTER I.

FEAST IN THE Garden of PEACHES: BROTHERHOOD SWORN: SLAUGHTER OF REBELS: THE BROTHERS HEROES.

Empires wax and wane; states cleave asunder and coalesce.

When the rule of Chou weakened seven contending principalities sprang up, warring one with another till they settled down as Ts'in and when its destiny had been fulfilled arose Ch'u and Han to contend for the mastery. And Han was the victor.

The rise of the fortunes of Han began with the slaughter of the White Serpent. In a short time the whole Empire was theirs and their magnificent heritage was handed down in successive generations till the days of Kuang-Wu, whose name stands in the middle of the long line of Han. This was in the first century of the western era and the dynasty had then already passed its zenith. A century later came to the Throne the Emperor Hsien, doomed to see the beginning of the division into three parts, known to history as The Three Kingdoms.

The descent into misrule hastened in the reigns of the two Emperors Huan and Ling, who sat in the dragon seat about the middle of the second century. The former of these two paid no heed to the good men of his court, but gave his confidence to the palace eunuchs. He lived and died, leaving the sceptre to Ling, whose trusted advisers were the General Tou Wu and the Grand Tutor Ch'ên Fan. These two, disgusted with the abuses resulting from the meddling of the eunuchs in affairs. of State, plotted their destruction. But the chief eunuch Ts'ao Chieh was not to be disposed of easily. The plot leaked out and the two honest men fell, leaving the eunuchs stronger than before.

It fell upon the day of full moon of the fourth month, second year of the period Chien-Ning, that the Emperor went in state to the Wên-tê Hall. As he drew near the Throne a rushing whirlwind arose in the corner of the hall and, lo! from the roof beams floated down a monstrous black serpent that coiled itself up on the very seat of majesty. The Emperor fell in a swoon. Those nearest him hastily raised and bore him to his palace while the courtiers scattered and fled. The serpent disappeared.

But there followed a terrific tempest, thunder, hail and torrents of rain, lasting till midnight and working havoc on all sides. Two years later the earth quaked in Loyang, while

along the coast a huge tidal wave rushed in which, in its recoil, swept away all the dwellers by the sea. Another evil omen was recorded ten years later, when the reign-title was changed: certain hens suddenly developed male characteristics, a miracle which could only refer to the effeminate eunuchs meddling in affairs of State. At the new moon of the sixth month a long wreath of black vapour wound its way into the audience chamber, while in the following month a rainbow was seen in the Jade Chamber. Away from the capital a mountain fell in, leaving a mighty rift in its flank.

Such were some of various omens. The Emperor, greatly moved by these signs of the displeasure of Heaven, issued an edict asking his ministers for an explanation of the calamities and marvels. A certain Ts'ai Yung replied bluntly that showers of insects and changes of fowls' sexes were brought about by feminine interference in State affairs.

The Emperor read this memorial with deep sighs, and the chief eunuch Ts'ao Chieh, from his place behind the Throne, anxiously noted these signs of grief. An opportunity offering, he read the document and told his fellows its purport. Before long a charge was trumped up against the author, who was driven from court and forced to retire to his country house. With this victory the eunuchs grew bolder. Ten of them, rivals in wickedness and associates in evil deeds, formed a powerful party known as The Ten. One of them, Chang Jang, won such influence that he became the Emperor's most honoured and trusted adviser. The Emperor even called him Daddie. So the Government went quickly from bad to worse, till the country was ripe for rebellion and buzzed with brigandage.

At this time in Chülu was a certain Chang family, of whom three brothers bore the name of Chio, Pao and Liang respectively. The eldest was an unclassed graduate, who devoted himself to medicine. One day, while culling simples in the woods, he met a venerable old gentleman with very bright eyes and fresh complexion, who walked leaning on a staff. The old man beckoned Chio into a cave and there gave him three volumes of the "Book of Heaven." "This book" said he, "is the Way of Peace. With the aid of these volumes you can convert the world and rescue mankind. But you must be single-minded, or, rest assured, you will greatly suffer."

With a humble obeisance Chang took the book and asked the name of his benefactor.

"I am the Hsien of the Southern Land of Glory," was the reply, as the old gentleman disappeared in thin air.

The new possessor of the wonderful book studied it eagerly and strove day and night to reduce its precepts to practice. Before long he could summon the winds and command the rain, and became known as The Mystic of the Way of Peace. Soon he could test his other powers. With a change of reign-title

appeared a terrible pestilence which ran throughout the land, whereupon Chang Chio distributed charmed remedies of which the success gained him the title of the Wise and Good Master. He began to have a following of disciples whom he initiated into the mysteries and sent abroad throughout all the land. They, like their master, could write charms and recite formulae and their fame increased his following. He began to organise his disciples. He established thirty six circuits, the larger with a myriad or more members, the smaller with about half that number. Each circuit had its chief who took the military title of General. They talked wildly of the death of the blue heavens and the setting up of the yellow; they said a new cycle was beginning and would bring universal good fortune, and they persuaded people to chalk the symbols for the first year of a cycle on the main door of their dwellings.

With the growth of the number of his supporters grew also the ambition of the "Wise and Good." He dreamed of empire. One of his partizans, Ma Yüan-i, was sent bearing gifts to gain the support of the eunuchs whereby to have allies within the palace. To his brothers Chang Chio said, "For schemes like ours always the most difficult part is to gain the popular favour. But that is already ours. Such an opportunity must not pass." And they began to prepare. Many yellow flags were made and a day was chosen to strike the first blow.

Then they wrote letters to the chief eunuch, Fêng Hsü, and sent them by a follower, who alas! betrayed their trust and discovered the plot. The Emperor summoned his trusty General Ho Chin and bade him look to it. Ma Yüan-i was at once taken and put to death. Fêng Hsü and many others were cast into prison.

The plot having thus become known the Changs were forced at once to take the field. They assumed grandiose titles, T'ien Kung, or Celestial Duke, Ti Kung, or Terrestrial Duke, Jên Kung, or Duke of Humanity, and in these names they put forth this manifesto:-"The good fortune of the Hans is exhausted and the Wise Man has appeared. Discern the will of Heaven, O ye people, and walk in the way of righteousness, whereby alone ye may attain to peace."

Support was not lacking. On every side people bound their heads with a yellow turban and joined the army of the rebel Chang Chio, so that soon his strength was exceeding great and the official troops melted away at a whisper of his coming.

Ho Chin, Guardian of the Throne, memorialised for general preparations against the rebels and an edict called upon every one to fight against them. In the meantime Lu Chih, Huangfu Sung and Chu Chien marched against them in three directions with veteran soldiers.

It is now time to turn to Chang Chio. He led his army into Yuchow, the northern of the eight divisions of the country.

The Prefect was one Liu Yen, a scion of the Imperial House through a certain Lu, Prince Kung of Chingling. Learning of the approach of the rebels, the Prefect called in the Hsiao-yü Tsou Ching to consult over the position. Said Tsou, "They are many and we few; you must enlist more men to oppose them." The Prefect saw this was so and he put out notices calling for volunteers to serve against the rebels. One of these notices was posted up in the Cho district, where lived one of whom much will be heard later.

This man was no mere bookish scholar nor found he any pleasure in study. But he was liberal and amiable, albeit a man of few words, hiding all feeling under a calm exterior. He had always cherished a yearning for high emprise and had cultivated the friendship of men of mark. He was tall of stature. His ears were long, the lobes touching his shoulders, and his hands hung down below his knees. His eyes were very prominent, so that he could see backward past his ears. His complexion was clear as jade and he had rich red lips. He was a descendant of a Prince whose father was the grandson of the Emperor Ching, (the occupant of the dragon throne a century and a half B.C.) His name was Liu Pei, or more commonly Liu Yüan-tê. Many years before one of his forbears had been Marquis of that very district, but had lost his rank for remissness in ceremonial offerings. However, that branch of the family had remained on in the place, gradually becoming poorer and poorer as the years rolled on. His father Liu Hung had been a scholar and an official but died young. The widow and orphan were left alone and Pei as a lad won a reputation for filial piety.

At this time the family had sunk deep in poverty and the son gained his living by the sale of straw sandals and weaving grass mats. The family home was in a village near the district. city. Near the house stood a huge mulberry tree, and seen from afar its curved profile resembled the tilt of a waggon. Noting the luxuriance of its foliage a soothsayer had predicted that one day a man of distinction would come forth from the family. As a child Yüan-tê and the other village boys played beneath this tree and he would climb up into it, saying he was emperor and was mounting his chariot. The lad's uncle recognised that he was no ordinary boy and saw to it that the family did not come to actual want.

When Yüan-tê was fifteen his mother sent him travelling for his education. For a time he served Chêng Yüan and Lu Chih as masters and he became great friends with Kungssun Tsan.

Yüan-tê was twenty eight when the outbreak of the rebellion called for soldiers. The sight of the notice saddened him and he sighed as he read it. Sudde.ly a rasping voice behind him cried, "Noble Sir, why sigh if you do nothing to help your country?" Turning quickly he saw standing there a man about

his own height, with a bullet head like a leopard's, large eyes, a pointed chin and a bristling moustache. He spoke in a loud bass voice and looked as irresistible as a runaway horse. At once Yüan-tê saw he was no ordinary man and asked who he

was.

"Chang Fei is my name; I am usually called I-tê" replied the stranger. "I live near here where I have a farm; and I am a wine-seller and a butcher as well. And I like to become acquainted with worthy men. Your sighs as you read the notice drew me toward you."

Yüan-tê replied, "I am of the Imperial Family, Liu by name, and my distinguishing name is Pei. An I could I would destroy these rebels and restore peace to the land, but alas! I am helpless."

"I am not without means," said Fei. Suppose you and I raised some men and tried what we could do."

This was happy news for Yüan-tê and the two betook themselves to the village inn to talk over the project. As they were drinking, a huge, tall fellow appeared pushing a hand-cart along the road. At the threshold he halted and entered the inn to rest awhile and he called for wine. "And be quick," added he "for I am in haste to get into the town and offer myself for the army."

Yuan-tê looked over the new-comer item by item and noted his huge frame, his long beard, his dark brown face and deep red lips. He had eyes like a phoenix and fine bushy eyebrows like silkworms. His whole appearance was dignified and aweinspiring. Presently Yüan-tê crossed over, sat down beside him and asked his name.

"I am Kuan Yü," said he; "I used to be known as Shou-ch'ang (Long as eternity), but now am usually called Yün-ch'ang (Long as a cloud). "I am a native of the east side of the river, but I have been a fugitive on the waters for some five years, because I slew a ruffian who, since he was powerful, was a bully. I have come to join the army here."

Then Yuan-tê told him his own intentions and all three went away to Chang Fei's farm where they could talk over the grand project.

Said Fei, "The peach trees in the orchard behind the house are just in full flower. Tomorrow we will institute a sacrifice there and solemnly declare our intention before Heaven and Earth. And we three will swear brotherhood and unity of aims and sentiments; thus will we enter upon our great task." All three being of one mind, next day they prepared the sacrifices, a black ox, a white horse and wine for libation. Beneath the smoke of the incense burning on the altar they bowed their heads and recited this oath :-"We three, Liu Pei, Kuan Yu and Chang Fei, though of different families, swear brotherhood, and promise mutual help to one end. We will