Still Water said, "Kongming befriended Shan Fu and three others: Cui Zhouping of Boling, Shi Guangyuan of Yingchuan, and Meng Gongwei of Runan. These four dedicated themselves to esoteric rituals of spiritual refinement. Kongming, however, was the only one who contemplated the doctrine in its entirety. Once while sitting embracing his knees and chanting in prolonged tones he remarked to his three friends: 'In official service any of you might advance to inspector or governor.' But when they asked what ambitions he had, he only smiled. He was wont to liken himself to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi. His ability is beyond measuring." "I wonder," Xuande commented, "why the Yingchuan area has produced so many great men." "Long ago," Still Water replied, "Yin Kui, a skilled observer of the constellations, remarked that with so many stars congregated in its part of the sky, the district was sure to have many worthy men."
Lord Guan, who had been listening to this conversation, interjected, "To my knowledge Guan Zhong and Yue Yi were outstanding figures of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods, men whose merit overarched the realm. Is it not presumptuous for Kongming to compare himself to them?"4 "To my mind," Still Water replied smiling, "he might rather be compared to Jiang Ziya, who helped found the eight-hundred-year Zhou dynasty, or Zhang Liang, whose advice was responsible for the Han's four hundred years of glory." This praise left all hearers astonished. Still Water then took his leave, declining Xuande's invitation to stay. But on reaching the gate, he gazed upward and laughed aloud, "Sleeping Dragon has found his lord but not his time. A pity!" So saying, he was gone like a breeze. "Truly a recluse of great worth," Xuande said with a sigh.
The next day Xuande, Lord Guan, and Zhang Fei went to Longzhong. On the hills men were carrying mattocks to their acres, singing:
The sky's a curving vault of blue,
The level earth a chessboard,
Where men their black and white divide,
Disgrace or glory to decide.
For the winners, peace and comfort,
For the losers, tiring toil.
In Nanyang someone lies secluded,
Securely sleeping. Stay abed!
Xuande reined in and asked who had composed the song. "Why, Master Sleeping Dragon," was the reply. "Where does he live?" Xuande asked. A farmer answered, "A short way south runs a high ridge called Sleeping Dragon Ridge. In front is a thin wood where you'll find the little thatched lodge that he's made his refuge." Xuande thanked the man and rode on. Soon the ridge came into view. It was a soothing scene of extraordinary peace, as depicted in this old-style ballad:
West of Xiangyang county twenty li,
A rising ridge leans over a flowing stream.
The twisting, turning ridge bears heavy clouds;
The frothing, churning stream is liquid jade.
Caught between the rocks, this dragon winds;
Shadowed by the pines, this phoenix hides.
A wattle gate half-screens a thatched retreat:
Undisturbed, the recluse rests within.
The bamboo forms a veil of green outside,
Where year-round hedgerows exhale flowery scents.
Learned works are piled around his bed;
No common men have come before his seat.
Now and then a gibbon taps to offer fruit;
A crane, his gateguard, attends his nightly chants.
A brocade sack contains the precious lute;
The seven-star sword is hung upon the wall.
In this refined seclusion the master waits
And works his acres in his leisure hour,
Until spring thunder starts him from his dream
To calm the kingdom with one impassioned cry.
Xuande arrived at the farmstead and knocked at the brushwood gate. A lad answered the door and asked his name. "General of the Left under the Han," Xuande declared, "Lord of Yicheng Precinct, Protector of Yuzhou, Imperial Uncle Liu Bei comes to pay his respects to your master." "Too many names to remember," said the youth. "Just say Liu Bei is paying a call," Xuande urged him. "My master," the lad said, "went out for a bit earlier this morning." "Where to?" Xuande asked. "His movements are uncertain; I don't know where he has gone," was the reply. "When will he be back?" Xuande asked. "I don't know that, either," the lad said. "It could be three to five days or ten or more."
Xuande was greatly disappointed. Zhang Fei said, "Since we have failed to see him, let's go home and have done with it!" Xuande was for waiting a little longer, but Lord Guan also said, "We might as well be off. We can send someone later to inquire." Xuande finally agreed and told the lad, "When your master returns, will you say that Liu Bei came to call?"5
The brothers remounted and rode off. Several li later they reined in and looked back on the scenic figurations of Longzhong. Now the hills seemed more elegant than lofty, the streams more sparkling than deep, the land more smooth than spacious, the woods more lush than large, with gibbons and cranes joining in play, pine and bamboo blending their green. Xuande could not take his eyes away. Suddenly a man appeared, his countenance imposing, his bearing stately yet simple. A scarf was wound casually around his head; a plain black gown covered his frame. With a staff of goosefoot wood he trod down a hillside path.
"This must be Master Sleeping Dragon," Xuande said eagerly as he dismounted and made a gesture of respectful greeting. "Could you be Sleeping Dragon, master?" he asked. "Your name, General?" the man responded. "Liu Bei," he answered. "I am not Kongming," the man went on, "but a friend of his, Cui Zhouping of Boling." "Your name has been long known to me," Xuande said. "This is a meeting ordained by fortune. I would like to benefit from your instruction if you could find the time. ..."
The two men sat on some rocks in the woods; Lord Guan and Zhang Fei stood to either side. Cui Zhouping began, "For what reason, General, do you wish to see Kongming?" "There is such disorder in the empire," Xuande replied. "The four quarters are as unsettled as the clouds. I would seek of Kongming the strategy to secure and stabilize the government and the country." "My lord," Cui Zhouping responded with a smile, " you are bent on bringing the disorder of our day to an end? However benevolent your intentions, since ancient times periods of discord and civic order have come and gone quite unpredictably. When the Supreme Ancestor of the dynasty slew the white serpent and embarked on the rising that destroyed the despotic Qin, that interval, which led to the founding of the Han, was a time of transition from discord to civil order. Two hundred years of peace and prosperity followed. Then, in the time of the Emperors Ai and Ping, Wang Mang usurped the throne and brought us again from order to disorder. But the first emperor of the Later Han, Guang Wu, revived the dynasty and, righting its foundations, brought us out of discord and back to civic order.
"Now after two another hundred years, during which the population has enjoyed peace and contentment, we find sword and shield around us. This only shows that we are moving again into a period of disorder, and one which cannot be quickly ended. For Kongming to try to reverse the course of events or mitigate what fortune has in store would be, I am afraid, a futile expense of mind and body. It is said, 'Adapt to Heaven and enjoy ease; oppose it and toil in vain.' It is also said, 'None can deduct from the reckoning, or force what is fated." '
"There is great insight in your words," Xuande conceded. "But I, a Liu, scion of the Han, committed to maintain the dynasty's rule, may not leave the task to fate or reckoning." "A mountain rustic like myself," Cui Zhouping responded, "is hardly fit to discuss the affairs of empire. You honored me with your profound question, and I expressed myself rashly." "You have favored me with your insight and instruction," Xuande said, "but I would know where Kongming has gone." "I, too, was hoping to pay a call on him," Cui Zhouping replied, "so I could not tell you where he is." "Would you be interested, master," Xuande inquired, "in coming back with me to our humble county seat?" "My uncultured nature," Cui Zhouping replied, "has grown too fond of leisure's freedoms to give thought to success and fame. But there will be occasion for us to meet again." With that, the man
left after making a deep bow. "We have failed to find Kongming," Zhang Fei said, "and bumped into that rotten pedant instead. Too much idle talk!" "That is how men in seclusion express themselves," Xuande admonished him.
A few days after returning to Xinye, Xuande made inquiries and was told that Kongming had come back from his rambles. Xuande ordered the horses readied for another visit. "Do you have to go yourself for that village bumpkin?" Zhang Fei demanded. "Have him summoned." "It looks," Xuande said sharply, "as if you do not know what the sage Mencius meant when he said, 'Trying to meet a worthy man in the wrong way is as bad as closing the door on an invited guest.' Kongming is one of the greatest men of our time, and yet you expect me to send out a summons?" And so a second time, attended by his brothers, Xuande went to Sleeping Dragon Ridge.
It was the dead of winter, severely cold. Dense, somber clouds covered the sky.6 The brothers rode into a cutting northern wind. A heavy snow made the mountains gleam like arrowheads of white jade and gave the woods a silvery sheen. "The air is bitter," Zhang Fei said, "and the ground frozen solid. A bad time even for military operations, and yet you think we should be going this distance to meet someone of no use to us at all? Let's go back and get out of the storm." "I am determined," Xuande replied, "to show Kongming my earnest intentions. If you can't stand it, brother, go on back yourself." "If death doesn't frighten me," Zhang Fei retorted, "why should the cold? I just hate to see my elder brother waste his energy." "Then stop complaining," Xuande said, "and follow me." As they approached the thatched cottage, they were surprised to hear someone singing in a roadside wineshop:
No deeds, no fame achieved at manhood's prime:
Shall he ever find his lord or meet his time?
Remember when Jiang Ziya,7
The old sage of the Eastern Sea, quit his hazel wood
And followed Zhou's first king, Wen, as servant and as kinsman?
When, uncalled, eight hundred lords converged,
And a white fish flew into King Wu's boat8
As he forded at Meng
To battle the Shang at Grazing Field,
Where he shed a tide of blood
That bore off sword and shield,
As, fierce and majestic, an eagle on the wing,
He towered above King Wu's martial vassals?9 And when
The tippler from Gaoyang (as he liked to call himself),
Li Yiji, came and made a common bow10
To the "Big Nose Governor" in those dark hours
And spoke such startling truths of reign and rule
That the king-to-be dismissed his footwashers
And feasted Li Yiji, honoring his splendid spirit?
The surrender of the east soon followed:
Seventy-two cities and towns.
What man has followed in those footsteps?
Such were the deeds of Jiang Ziya and Li Yiji,
Heroes unsurpassed unto this very day.11
As soon as this song was finished, another man tapped the table and began to sing:
Han's first king took the realm by sword;
The house he founded lasted twenty score.
With Huan and Ling, Han's fire-virtue waned.
And evil men the chancelorship profaned.
They saw a serpent coiled beside the throne;
A rainbow in the consort-quarters shone.
Ant-like, outlaws gathered everywhere;
Villains rose like raptors in the air.12
We pound our hands and keen, but all in vain;
Our sorrows take us to the village inn.
Leading lives of simple decency,
Who needs a name that lasts eternally?
Their songs sung, the two men clapped and laughed aloud. Convinced that Sleeping Dragon was within, Xuande dismounted and entered the wineshop. The singers were leaning over a table drinking. One had a light complexion and a long beard, the other a fresh, ageless look. Xuande saluted them and asked, "Which of you is Master Sleeping Dragon?" "Who are you, sir?" the long-bearded one responded. "And what have you to do with him?" "I am Liu Bei," was the reply, "and I need the master's skill to aid my cause and succor our age." "I am not the man you seek," the long-bearded man replied, "nor is he. But we are friends of his. I am Shi Guangyuan of Yingchuan, and this is Meng Gongwei of Runan." "Noble names long known to me," Xuande exclaimed with delight. "I am favored by this fortunate encounter, and I have extra horses if you gentlemen would be willing to accompany me to Sleeping Dragon's farm." "Country idlers like us," Shi Guangyuan replied, "have no knowledge of the weighty matters that concern you. Do not waste time on the likes of us, sir, but resume your search yourself."
Xuande bade the drinkers good-bye and rode toward Sleeping Dragon Ridge. He dismounted at Kongming's farm and, finding the youth at the gate, asked, "Is your master in today?" "In the house reading," was the reply. Excitedly, Xuande followed the lad. Coming to the inner gate, they stopped before a couplet on the wall that read: "Only through austerity and quiescence can one's purpose shine forth; only through concentration and self-control can one's distant goal be reached."13 As Xuande was studying the words, he heard someone singing inside. Standing attentively by the door of the thatched house, he peered in and saw a young man with his arms about his knees, chanting:
The phoenix winging on the air
Will choose no tree
Except the wu.
The scholar keeping to his lair
Will have no lord
Except the true.
Oh, let me till these furrowed fields,
By this sweet home
That I call mine.
In books and song I place my dreams
And wait the time
The fates assign.
When the singer stopped, Xuande entered and extended his courtesies. "I have long held you in admiration," Xuande began, "but wanted occasion to express it personally. The other day, thanks to Shan Fu's suggestion, I came to pay my respects at this retreat of yours. Unable to meet you, however, I went home disappointed. Now I come a second time, undaunted by the storm. This glimpse of your learned countenance is an untold blessing."
Flustered by this speech, the young man returned the greeting and then replied, "General, you must be Liu Yuzhou and, I believe, wish to see my elder brother."14 "Master," Xuande said in astonishment, "then you are not Sleeping Dragon, either?" "No, I am his younger brother, Zhuge Jun. There are three of us brothers. The oldest, Zhuge Jin, is in the Southland advising Sun Quan. Kongming is the second brother." "Is the Sleeping Dragon at home?" Xuande inquired. "Yesterday," Zhuge Jun replied, "he was invited by Cui Zhouping to go on a jaunt." "Do you know where?" Xuande asked. "They might have gone rowing down some lake or river," Zhuge Jun answered. "Or to visit some Buddhist or Taoist on his hilltop retreat. Or to look for friends in the villages. Or they might have simply decided to entertain themselves with lutes and chess in some cavern den. My brother comes and goes quite unpredictably, and I have no idea where he might be."
"How meagre my lot!" Xuande exclaimed. "Twice now have I missed this excellent man!" "Sit awhile," Zhuge Jun suggested. "Let me offer you tea." But Zhang Fei broke in, "The master is not here. Let's get going!" "Why go back," Xuande answered him, "without having spoken to anyone?" With that, Xuande turned to Zhuge Jun and said, "Your esteemed brother is known for his mastery of military arts. They say he applies himself to the subject daily. Can you tell me more about this?" When Zhuge Jun said he knew nothing about it, Zhang Fei spoke again. "Look at that storm," he said. "Better be starting back." But Xuande told him sharply to be quiet. "Since my brother is not here," Zhuge Jun said, "I should not detain you officers. He will return your courteous call at a future time." "I would not want him to have to travel," Xuande replied. "I expect to be coming again in a few days. Could I trouble you, though, for a brush and paper? As an expression of the earnestness of my wish, I shall leave your elder brother a letter." The writing instruments were brought.
Xuande thawed the frozen hairs of the b
rush with his breath and unrolled the writing paper. His letter read:
A longtime admirer of your honored name, I, Liu Bei, have come twice to present myself, only to leave again without having met you—a keen disappontment. I am humbly mindful that as a remote kinsman of the court, I have enjoyed prestige and rank far beyond my merits. When my thoughts turn to the rude displacement at court—our laws and customs crumbling and swept aside while countless contenders subvert the state and vicious factions abuse the sovereign—my heart breaks, my gall is rent. Whatever sincerity I may offer to the cause of delivering the Han perishes for want of strategy.
I admire your humane compassion, your sense of loyalty and honor. If in your greatness of spirit you would unfold your mighty talents, talents comparable to those of Jiang Ziya, and apply your grand strategy in the manner of Zhang Liang, then the empire and the sacred shrines of the royal house would be doubly blessed. I am forwarding this to convey my intention, after further ceremonial purification, to pay homage yet again to your honored presence, respectfully offering my poor, simple sincerity and entreating your discerning consideration.
Xuande handed the letter to Zhuge Jun, bade him good-bye, and left. Zhuge Jun accompanied him past the gate, listening to his earnest reiterations. Finally they parted.
Xuande was starting homeward when he saw the lad beyond the fence waving and shouting, "The old master is coming!" Ahead, past a small bridge, a man in winter headdress and fox furs was riding a donkey through the descending snow. He was followed by a youth in simple black carrying a gourd of wine. Turning on to the bridge, the rider sang:
Nightlong, north winds chill,
Three Kingdoms Page 49
