Zhao Yun turned again to the city. By the time he had reached the wall, Cai Mao had gone within. He then questioned the gate wardens, and they all agreed in saying that Liu Bei had ridden out at full gallop. That was all they knew. Fearing to reenter the city lest he should fall into an ambush, Zhao Yun started for Xinye.
After that marvelous life-saving leap over the Tan Torrent, Liu Bei felt elated but rather dazed. He could not help telling himself, “My safety is due to an especial interposition of Providence.”
Following a tortuous path, he urged his steed toward Nanzhang. But the sun sank to the west and his destination seemed yet a long way off. Then he saw a young cowherd seated on the back of a buffalo and playing on a short flute.
“If I were only as happy!” sighed Liu Bei.
He checked his horse and looked at the lad, who stopped his beast, ceased playing on the pipe, and stared fixedly at the stranger. “You must be Liu Bei, the general who fought the Yellow Scarves,” said the boy presently.
Liu Bei was taken aback.
“How can you know my name, a young rustic like you living in such a secluded place?” said he.
“Of course I do not know you, but my master often has visitors, and they all talk about Liu Bei, the tall man whose hands hang down below his knees and whose eyes are very prominent. They say he is the most famous man of the day. Now you, General, are just such a man as they talk about, and surely you are he.”
“Well, who is your master?”
“My master's name is Sima Hui. He belongs to Yingchuan and his Taoist appellation is Water-Mirror.”
“Who are your master's friends that you mentioned?”
“They are Pang Degong and Pang Tong of Xiangyang.”
“And who are they?”
“Uncle and nephew. Pang Degong is ten years older than my master; the other is five years younger. One day my master was up in a tree picking mulberries when Pang Tong arrived. They began to talk and kept it up all day, my master did not come down till the evening. My master is very fond of Pang Tong and calls him brother.”
“And where does your master live?”
“In that wood there, in front,” said the cowherd pointing to it. “There he has a farmstead.”
“I really am Liu Bei, and you might lead me to your master that I may salute him.”
The cowherd led the way for about one mile, when Liu Bei found himself in front of a farm house. He dismounted and went to the center door. Suddenly came to his ear the sound of a lute most skillfully played and the air was extremely beautiful. He stopped his guide and would not allow him to announce a visitor, but stood there rapt by the melody.
Suddenly the music ceased. He heard a deep laugh and a man appeared, saying, “Amidst the clear and subtle sounds of the lute, there suddenly rang out a high note as though some noble man was near.”
“That is my master,” said the lad pointing.
Liu Bei saw before him a tall figure, slender and straight as a pine tree, a very “chosen vessel.” Hastening forward he saluted. The skirt of his robe was still wet from the river.
“You have escaped from a grave danger today, Sir,” said Water-Mirror.
Liu Bei was startled into silence, and the cowherd said to his master, “This is Liu Bei.”
Water-Mirror asked him to enter; and when they were seated in their relative positions as host and guest, Liu Bei glanced round the room. Upon the bookshelves were piled books and manuscripts. The window opened upon an exquisite picture of pines and bamboos and a lute lay upon a stone couch. The room showed refinement in its last degree.
“Whence come you, Illustrious Sir?” asked the host.
“By chance I was passing this way and the lad pointed you out to me. So I came to bow in your honored presence. I cannot tell what pleasure it gives me.”
Water-Mirror laughed, saying, “Why this mystery? Why must you conceal the truth? You have certainly just escaped from a grave danger.”
Then Liu Bei told the story of the banquet and the flight.
“I knew it all from your appearance,” said his host. “Your name has long been familiar, but whence comes it that, up to the present, you are only a homeless devil?”
“I have suffered many a check during my life,” said Liu Bei, “and through one of them am I here now.”
“It should not be so; but the reason is that you still lack the one person to aid you.”
“I am simple enough in myself, I know; but I have Sun Qian, Mi Zhu, and Jian Yong on the civil side, and for warriors I have Guan Yu, Zhang Fei, and Zhao Yun. These are all most loyal helpers, and I depend upon them not a little.”
“Your fighting generals are good: fit to oppose a legion. The pity is you have no really able adviser. Your civilians are but pallid students of books, not humans fitted to weave and control destiny.”
“I have always yearned to find one of those marvelous recluses who live among the hills till their day arrive. So far I have sought in vain.”
“You know what the Teacher Confucius said, 'In a hamlet of ten households there must be one true human.' Can you say there is no one?”
“I am simple and uninstructed; I pray you enlighten me.”
