As has been said, the Prince of Hanzhong swooned on hearing the terrible news of the death of the two Guans, father and son. His officers went to his help, and when he had recovered sufficiently, they led him to his private apartments.
“My lord, control your grief,” said Zhuge Liang. “Life and death are fixed by fate. Guan Yu brought the evil upon himself by his harshness and haughtiness. You must now take care of your health and mature your vengeance.”
“When we swore brotherhood in the Peach Garden, we pledged ourselves to live or die together. What enjoyment of riches and honors is there for me now that my brother is gone?”
Just then he saw Guan Yu's son, Guan Xing, coming in weeping in deep distress. At sight of the youth, Liu Bei uttered a great cry and again sank to the earth. By and by he came to, and spent the whole day weeping and swooning at intervals. For three days he refused all nourishment, and he wept so bitterly that his garments were wetted, and there were spots of blood. Zhuge Liang and the others tried every means to soothe him, but he was inconsolable.
“I swear I will not live under the same heaven as Sun Quan,” cried he.
“It is said that the head of your brother has been sent to Cao Cao, but Cao Cao has buried the remains with the rites of a princely noble,” said Zhuge Liang.
“Why did he do that?” asked Liu Bei.
“Because Sun Quan thought thereby to bring evil upon Cao Cao. But Cao Cao saw through the subterfuge and has buried your brother with great honor so that your anger may burn against Wu.”
“I want to send my armies to punish Wu and appease my wrath,” said Liu Bei.
“No; you may not do that. Wu wishes to move you to smite Wei, and Wei wishes you to attack Wu, each harboring the malevolent design of taking advantage of the quarrel. You would do well, my lord, to keep your armies at home. Put on mourning for Guan Yu, and wait till Wei and Wu are at war. That will be your time.”
The other officers supported Zhuge Liang, and Liu Bei listened. Presently his grief spent itself, and he began to take food again. An edict was promulgated enjoining mourning dress upon all officials. The Prince went outside the south gate to summon the spirit home, and sacrificed and wailed a whole day for the dead warrior, his brother.
Although Cao Cao had given honorable burial to the remains of Guan Yu, yet he was continually haunted by the dead man's spirit. Every night when he closed his eyes, he saw Guan Yu as he knew the warrior so well in the flesh. These visions made him nervous, and he sought the advice of his officers. Some suggested the building of new rooms for his own use.
“There is much witchcraft and malign influence in this old palace at Luoyang; build a new palace for your own occupation,” said they.
“I would, and it should be called 'The Firm Foundation,'“ said he. “But where is the good architect?”
Jia Xu said, “There is one Su Yue, a very cunning artificer in Luoyang.”
Su Yue was called and set to work on the plans for a nine-hall pavilion for Cao Cao's own use. It had verandahs and upper rooms as well. His plans pleased Cao Cao greatly.
“You have planned just such a place as I wished, only where will you find the main beam for such a building?”
“I know a certain tree that will serve,” said the architect. “About ten miles from the city there is the Pool of the Leaping Dragon. Near it is a shrine, and beside that grows a fine pear tree. It is over a hundred spans high, and that will serve for the roof tree.”
Cao Cao at once sent people to fell the tree. But after one whole day of labor they came back to say they could make no impression on it neither with saw nor ax. Cao Cao, doubting their word, went to see. When he had dismounted and stood by the tree, he could not but admire its size and proportions, as it rose above him tall, straight and branched till the wide-spreading and symmetrical top reached into the clouds. But he bade the men attack it again.
Then a few aged people of the village came and said, “The tree has stood here some centuries and is the haunt of a spirit. We think it should not be cut down.”
Cao Cao grew annoyed, saying, “I have gone to and fro in the world now some forty years, and there is no one, from the Emperor to the commoner, who does not fear me. What spirit is there who dares oppose my wish?”
Drawing the sword he was wearing, Cao Cao went up to the tree and slashed at the trunk. The tree groaned as he struck, and blood stains spattered his dress. Terror-stricken, he threw down the sword, mounted his horse and galloped off.
