The Three Kingdoms Volume 2 by Luo Guanzhong Read Free Book Online

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    The young man said, “Since my brother is absent I dare not detain you any longer. Let my brother return your call later.”
    “Please do not take that trouble. In a few days I will come again. But I would like to borrow some paper and brush so that I could leave a note to show your worthy brother my sincerity.”
    His young host produced the well-known “four treasures” (ink, ink-stand, brush, and paper) of the scholar and Liu Bei, thawing out the frozen brush between his lips, spread the thin sheet of paper and wrote:
    “I, Liu Bei, have long admired your fame. I have visited your dwelling twice, but to my great disappointment I have not had the pleasure of meeting you. As a distant relative of the Emperor, I have undeservedly enjoyed fame and rank. When I see the ruling house weakening, the foundation of the state crumbling away, numerous lords creating confusion in the country, and an evil cabal behaving unseemly toward the Emperor, my heart and guts are torn to shreds. But although I have a real desire to assist, I am deficient in the necessary skills. Therefore I have turned to you, wise master, for help, trusting in your kindness, graciousness, loyalty, and righteousness. If you would only use your talent, equal to that of Lu Shang, and perform great deeds as Zhang Liang did for the founder of Han, then the empire would be happy and the throne would be secure.
    “I am leaving you this brief note now and after purifying myself with fasting and fragrant baths, I will come again to bow before your honored presence and receive enlightenment.”
    Having written the letter and given it to the host, Liu Bei politely took his leave, inwardly quite disappointed at this second failure. As he was mounting, he saw the serving lad waving to someone outside the hedge and heard him call out, “The old master is here.”
    Liu Bei looked and then saw a figure seated on a donkey riding leisurely over a bridge.
    The rider wore a cap with long flaps down to his shoulders and was clad in a fox fur robe. A youth followed him bearing a jar of wine. As he came through the snow he hummed a song:
This eve, the sky is overcast,
    The north wind comes with icy blast,
Light snowflakes whirl about until
A white pall covers dale and hill.
Perhaps above the topmost sky
White dragons strive for mastery,
Numerous scales from their forms riven
Are scattered o’er the world wind-driven.
Amid the storm there jogs along
A simple soul who croons a song
“Oh poor plum trees, the gale doth tear
Your blossoms off and leave you bare.
    “Here at last is Master Sleeping Dragon,” thought Liu Bei, hastily slipping out of the saddle. He saluted the rider as he drew near and said: “Master, it is hard to make way against this cold wind. I have been waiting long.”
    The rider got off his donkey and returned his salute, while Zhuge Jun interjected from behind: “This is not my brother—it is his father-in-law, Huang Cheng-yan.”
    Liu Bei said, “I chanced to hear the poem you were reciting—it is superb.”
    Cheng-yen replied, “It is a little poem I read in my son-in-law’s house and I recalled it as I crossed the bridge and saw the plum blossoms in the hedge. I did not know it would catch your ear, noble sir.”
    “Have you seen your son-in-law lately?” asked Liu Bei.
    “I have come especially to see him.”
    At this Liu Bei bade him farewell and went on his way. The snowstorm was very grievous to bear, but worse than the storm was the grief in his heart as he looked back at Sleeping Dragon Ridge.
One winter’s day through snow and wind
    Liu Bei rode forth the sage to find;
    Alas! his journey was in vain,
    And sadly turned he home again.
    The stream stood still beneath the bridge
A sheet of ice draped rock and ridge,
His steed, benumbed with biting cold,
Crawled on as he was stiff and old.
    The snowflakes on the rider’s head
Were like pear blossoms newly shed,
Or like the willow catkins light
They brushed his cheeks in headlong