Undaunted, he rode at his opponents and fought many bouts. But his strength and valor availed naught; struggle as he would, he could not make his way out. And so he fell among his enemies.
A poem celebrates his valiancy:
The Minister Cheng Ji, having got clear of the battle, rode swiftly to the river bank and called to the marines to join in the battle. They landed, but were soon scattered.
One of Cheng Ji's generals shouted to him: “The soldiers of Wu are upon us; let find a way to escape.”
But Cheng Ji shouted back, “Since I first followed my lord, I have never yet turned my back upon the foe.”
The enemy surrounded Cheng Ji, and, as he could do no more, he took his sword and slew himself.
Now Wu Ban and Zhang Nan had been besieging Yiling. Then came Feng Xi and told of the need of their lord, and they led off their army to rescue him. Whereupon Sun Huan was set free as Lu Xun had foretold would happen.
As soon as Sun Huan was free, he set off in pursuit of Feng Xi and Zhang Nan. These two marched until they met an army of Wu face to face, and so were between two forces. A desperate battle was fought, and both these generals perished therein.
Wu Ban broke through. He was pursued, but he luckily fell in with Zhao Yun and got safely to Baidicheng.
The Mang tribesmen King Shamo Ke was flying from the battle field when he met Zhou Tai, who slew him after a short fight. The two Shu generals Du Lu and Liu Ning surrendered to Wu, as did many soldiers. Of the stores and weapons in the camps of Shu nothing was saved.
When the story of the disaster to Shu reached the Southern Land, and with it the report that the First Ruler had been killed in battle, Lady Sun gave way to wild grief. She rode down to the river bank and, gazing westward, wept and lamented. Then she threw herself into the stream and was drowned. Posterity erected a temple on the shore called “The Shrine of the Bold Beauty,” and one who described it wrote a poem:
There could be no question that this exploit brought tremendous glory to Lu Xun. Anxious to push his advantage as far as possible, he led his exultant army westward. But as he drew near to Kui Pass, he suddenly pulled up his horse, remarking that he saw an aura of death about the mountain side in front.
“We may not yet advance farther; I suspect an ambush.”
So they retreated three miles and camped in a wide open space. And the army was arrayed ready against any sudden attack. Meanwhile, scouts were sent out. They returned reporting no soldiers. Lu Xun doubted and went up to the summit of a hill whence he could see over the country. The aura was still visible to him, and so he dispatched other people to spy. But he received the same report; not a soldier, not a horse.
Still, as the sun got lower and lower in the west, he saw the same appearance accentuated, and he began to feel grave doubts. He sent a confidant to look once more. This man came back, saying, “There is not a single soldier, but I have noticed on the river bank nearly a hundred heaps of boulders.”
The Commander-in-Chief, still doubting, called in several of the natives and questioned them about the stones.
“Who put them there? Why did they look so ghastly?” asked Lu Xun.
“We do not know. This place is called Fishbelly Creek. When Zhuge Liang was going west into the Lands of Rivers, he came along here with a lot of soldiers and heaped up the boulders like that above the Sandy Rapid. We have seen vapors rising from the boulders; they seemed to come from inside them.”
