How to Read the Records of the Three Kingdoms

How to Read the Records of the Three Kingdoms

On How to Read the *Records of the Three Kingdoms*

When reading the *Records of the Three Kingdoms*, one must understand the distinction between the legitimate line (*zhengtong*), the intercalated cycle (*runyun*), and the usurping states (*jianguo*). What is the legitimate line? It is Shu-Han. What are the usurping states? They are Wu and Wei. What is the intercalated cycle? It is Jin. Why does Wei not qualify as the legitimate line? In terms of territory, the Central Plain should hold primacy; in terms of principle, the Liu family holds primacy. But to judge by territory is not as good as judging by principle. Therefore, to grant the legitimate line to Wei was the error of Sima Guang in his *Comprehensive Mirror*. To grant the legitimate line to Shu was why Zhu Xi's *Gangmu* (*Outline and Details of the Comprehensive Mirror*) is correct. In the *Gangmu*, at the end of Emperor Xian's Jian'an era, it records in large script: "First Year of the Zhangwu Era of Emperor Zhaolie of Later Han," while noting Wu and Wei beneath it. This is because Shu, being of imperial lineage, deserves to be affirmed; Wei, being a state of usurpers, deserves to be rejected. Thus, earlier it records "Liu Bei raising troops in Xuzhou to attack Cao Cao," and later it records "Chancellor of Han, Zhuge Liang, leading a campaign to attack Wei"—and the great principle shines forth clearly for all time. Before the Liu house had perished and before Wei had achieved unification, Wei certainly could not be the legitimate line. After the Liu house had perished and Jin had achieved unification, yet Jin too could not be the legitimate line. Why? Because Jin's ministers slew their lord—no different from Wei—and after but one generation, its mandate was short-lived. It can only be called an intercalated cycle, not a legitimate line. As for Eastern Jin, ruling from a corner and substituting an ox for a horse [i.e., the scandal of the Sima lineage], it is even less entitled to the legitimate line. Therefore, the absorption of the Three Kingdoms by Jin is like the unification of the Six States by Qin, or the unification of the Five Dynasties by Sui. Qin merely served as a vanguard for Han; Sui merely served as a vanguard for Tang. For the legitimate line of earlier times, Han held primacy, and Qin, Wei, and Jin had no part in it. Likewise, for the legitimate line of later times, Tang and Song held primacy, and Song, Qi, Liang, Chen, Sui, Liang, Tang, Jin, Han, and Zhou all had no part in it. Moreover, it is not merely that Wei and Jin fall short of Han as the legitimate line—even Tang and Song fall short of Han. Emperor Yang of Sui was without principle, and Tang replaced him; yet one regrets that Tang could not manifestly do as Zhou did when it replaced Shang. Instead, [Tang Gaozu] took the title of Duke of Tang and accepted the Nine Bestowments, treading the vulgar path of Wei and Jin. Thus, the legitimacy by which it gained the empire was inferior to that of Han. As for Song, it founded its state on loyalty and magnanimity, and many great ministers and great scholars emerged from among its people. Therefore, those who assess such matters grant the legitimate line to Song. Yet throughout Song's history, the Sixteen Prefectures of Yan and Yun were never incorporated into its domain—its scope was already inferior to Tang's. Moreover, at the Chenqiao Mutiny, the yellow robe was added to [Zhao Kuangyin]'s body, and he seized the empire from the hands of an orphan and a widow. Thus, the legitimacy by which it gained the empire was also inferior to that of Han. If even Tang and Song fall short of Han, what need to speak of Wei and Jin? Emperor Gaozu rose by overthrowing the tyrannical Qin and attacking Xiang Yu for killing Emperor Yi. Emperor Guangwu restored the old order by punishing Wang Mang. Emperor Zhaolie preserved the Han sacrifices in Xichuan by attacking Cao Cao. When the founding ancestors established the line with legitimacy, the descendants who continued it also acted with legitimacy. One cannot hold that only because Guangwu achieved unification did he represent the legitimate line, while Zhaolie, ruling from a corner, does not. If Zhaolie is the legitimate line, then Liu Yu and Liu Zhiyuan were also descendants of the Liu family—why are they not considered the legitimate line? Because Yu and Zhiyuan's descent from Han was distant and unverifiable, unlike the descent from the Prince of Zhongshan, which is near and can be confirmed. Moreover, both Liu Yu and Liu Zhiyuan gained their states through usurpation and murder, and therefore cannot be ranked alongside Zhaolie. Why does Li Cunxu of Later Tang not qualify as the legitimate line? Because Cunxu was not originally a Li but was granted the surname Li—he is not far removed from the Lü clan [of Lü Zuan] and the ox-substitution of Jin [the Sima scandal], and therefore cannot be ranked alongside Zhaolie either. Why does Li Bian of Southern Tang also not qualify to continue Tang as the legitimate line? Because his lineage was distant and remote, comparable to Yu and Zhiyuan, and therefore he too cannot be ranked alongside Zhaolie. If Li Sheng of Southern Tang cannot continue Tang as the legitimate line, why does Emperor Gaozong of Southern Song alone qualify to continue Song as the legitimate line? Gaozong established a descendant of Taizu as heir, so that the Song mandate would not be severed. Therefore, the legitimate line is granted to him. Gaozong killed Yue Fei and employed Qin Guan, giving no thought whatsoever to the two emperors [held captive]. Yet historians, because he prolonged the Song mandate, still grant him the legitimate line. How much more, then, should Zhaolie, whose ruler and minister were of one mind and swore to punish the traitors of Han, be considered the legitimate line? That Zhaolie is the legitimate line is beyond all doubt. Chen Shou's *Records* did not make this distinction. Therefore, I have taken the middle course of Zhu Xi's *Gangmu* and specially set it right in this *Romance*.

There are many ancient histories, yet people are drawn to read the *Records of the Three Kingdoms* above all others, for the gathering of talents through the ages has never surpassed that of the Three Kingdoms period. To see talent matched against no talent is nothing remarkable; to see talent pitted against talent is remarkable. To see talent pitted against talent, yet one talent encountering equals among many is nothing remarkable; to see talent pitted against talent, with all other talents yielding to the supremacy of one talent—that is even more remarkable. I hold that the *Three Kingdoms* contains three marvels, which may be called three unsurpassed figures: Zhuge Liang is one, Guan Yu is one, and Cao Cao is also one. Searching through the records, though worthy ministers abound, none has a name towering through the ages like Zhuge Liang. At leisure, playing the zither and clasping his knees, he possessed the air of a true recluse; in action, with feathered fan and silk headcloth, he never lost his refined bearing. Dwelling in a thatched cottage, he already perceived the tripartition of the realm—such was his grasp of the times; entrusted with the heavy charge of a dying emperor's behest, he marched to Mount Qi six times—such was his fulfillment of human duty. His seven captures and eight formations, his wooden oxen and flowing horses, seemed beyond mortal comprehension, like spirits and ghosts at work; yet his devotion to the uttermost, his resolve fixed even unto death, remained the heart of a loyal minister and a dutiful son. Compared with Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, he surpassed them; compared with Yi Yin and Lü Shang, he combined their virtues—he is the foremost marvel among worthy ministers through the ages.

Searching through the records, though famous generals are as numerous as clouds, none stands above the rest like Guan Yu. Facing the green lamp with the green annals, he displayed the utmost scholarly elegance; with a heart as red as his face, he possessed the utmost heroic spirit. Keeping the candle burning till dawn, men transmitted his great integrity; crossing the river with a single sword to attend a meeting, the world admired his divine might. Traveling a thousand *li* alone, his resolve to repay his lord was firm; releasing Cao Cao at Huarong, his debt of gratitude was weighty. In his dealings, he was as clear as the blue sky and bright sun; in his treatment of others, he was as serene as the clear moon and gentle breeze. His heart possessed Zhao Bian's spirit of burning incense and reporting to the Emperor on High, yet with greater magnanimity; his will possessed Ruan Ji's spirit of showing the white eye in scorn of the world, yet with greater sternness and rectitude—he is the foremost marvel among famous generals through the ages.

Searching through the records, though villainous heroes come in endless succession, none had the wisdom to gather talents and deceive the world like Cao Cao. Listening to Xun Yu's counsel of supporting the throne, he compared himself to King Wen of Zhou—there was something seemingly loyal in that; denouncing Yuan Shu's wrongful assumption of imperial title, he declared himself content as the Duke of Cao—there was something seemingly compliant in that; he did not kill Chen Lin but cherished his talent—there was something seemingly magnanimous in that; he did not pursue Guan Yu but allowed him to fulfill his purpose—there was something seemingly righteous in that. Wang Dun could not employ Guo Pu, yet Cao Cao's ability to win men surpassed him; Huan Wen could not recognize Wang Meng, yet Cao Cao's ability to judge men surpassed him. Though Lin Fu was able to control Lu Shan, he could not match Cao Cao's striking the Wuhuan beyond the frontier; though Han Tuozhou was able to demote Qin Gui, he could not equal Cao Cao's punishing Dong Zhuo while he yet lived. He seized the reins of the state yet preserved the dynasty's name—this differed from Wang Mang's obvious regicide; he left the work of reform for his sons to complete—this surpassed Liu Yu's hasty desire to usurp the Jin—he is the foremost marvel among villainous heroes through the ages.

With these three marvels, the *Three Kingdoms* possesses what all other histories utterly lack. Therefore, having read through all histories, one cannot but delight all the more in reading the *Records of the Three Kingdoms*.

That the Three Kingdoms possesses three unsurpassed figures is already established. Yet beyond these three, I have also surveyed the periods before and after the Three Kingdoms. Were there any who planned strategy within the command tent like Xu Shu and Pang Tong? Were there any who commanded armies like Zhou Yu, Lu Sima, and Sima Yi? Were there any who judged men and foretold events like Guo Jia, Cheng Yu, Xun Yu, Jia Xu, Bu Zhi, Yu Fan, Gu Yong, and Zhang Zhao? Were there any whose martial exploits and generalship surpassed all bounds like Zhang Fei, Zhao Yun, Huang Zhong, Yan Yan, Zhang Liao, Xu Huang, Xu Sheng, and Zhu Huan? Were there any who charged into battle with fierce valor that none could withstand like Ma Chao, Ma Dai, Guan Xing, Zhang Bao, Xu Chu, Dian Wei, Zhang He, Xiahou Dun, Huang Gai, Zhou Tai, Gan Ning, Taishi Ci, and Ding Feng? Were there any whose talents were equal and whose worth met in rivalry like Jiang Wei and Deng Ai, matched in wisdom and courage, or Yang Hu and Lu Kang, each commanding with composed restraint? As for moral philosophy, there were Ma Rong and Zheng Xuan; for literary brilliance, Cai Yong and Wang Can; for quick wit, Cao Zhi and Yang Xiu; for early promise, Zhuge Ke and Zhong Hui; for repartee, Qin Mi and Zhang Song; for eloquence, Li Hui and Kan Ze; for fulfilling diplomatic missions without disgrace to their lord, Zhao Zi and Deng Zhi; for composing dispatches and urgent proclamations, Chen Lin and Ruan Yu; for managing complex affairs, Jiang Wan and Dong Yun; for spreading fame and renown, Ma Liang and Shun Shuang; for loving antiquity, Du Yu; for broad learning, Zhang Hua—seek these in other records, and they are not easily found one by one. As for recognizing worth, there was the wisdom of Sima Hui; as for cultivating integrity, there was the loftiness of Guan Ning; as for reclusion, there were the refined seclusion of Cui Zhouping, Shi Guangyuan, and Meng Gongwei; as for defying the treacherous, there was the uprightness of Kong Rong; as for confronting evil, there was the forthrightness of Zhao Yan; as for denouncing the wicked, there was the boldness of Mi Heng; as for cursing the traitor, there was the valor of Ji Ping; as for dying for the state, there were the worthiness of Dong Cheng and Fu Wan; as for sacrificing one's life, there were the integrity of Geng Ji and Wei Huang. A son dying for his father—such was the filial piety of Liu Chen and Guan Ping; a minister dying for his lord—such was the loyalty of Zhuge Zhan and Zhuge Shang; a retainer dying for his commander—such was the righteousness of Zhao Lei and Zhou Cang. Others include prescient counsel like Tian Feng, earnest remonstrance like Wang Lei, unwavering fidelity like Ju Shou, unyielding resolve like Ren Zi, generosity and devotion to friends like Lu Su, undivided loyalty to one's lord like Zhuge Jin, fearlessness before the mighty like Chen Tai, regarding death as returning home like Wang Jing, maintaining singular integrity like Sima Fu—all shining and resplendent, illuminating the pages of history. It is as if the three heroes of Fengpei, the four grey-haired sages of Mount Shang, the generals of the Cloud Terrace, and the guest star of Fuchun from earlier times, and the scholars of Yingzhou, the meritorious ministers of the Qilin Pavilion, the military governor over a cup of wine, and the minister of the execution ground from later dynasties—scattered across a thousand years of successive eras—all converged and gathered together in the single era of the Three Kingdoms. Is this not a great metropolis of talent! To enter the Deng Forest and select famous timber, to wander through the Dark Garden and see heaped jade—there is too much to gather, too much to behold. For the *Three Kingdoms*, I have the sigh of "I have seen enough."

# On Reading the *Records of the Three Kingdoms*

The *Three Kingdoms* is the most masterful work of literature. It narrates the Three Kingdoms, but it does not begin with the Three Kingdoms—the Three Kingdoms must have a beginning of their own, and so it begins with the Emperor of Han. It narrates the Three Kingdoms, but it does not end with the Three Kingdoms—the Three Kingdoms must have an ending of their own, and so it ends with the State of Jin. And not only this: Liu Bei, as a scion of the imperial house, carries on the dynastic line, and so there are imperial kinsmen such as Liu Biao, Liu Zhang, Liu Yao, and Liu Pi to accompany him. Cao Cao, as a powerful minister, monopolizes authority, and so there are those who deposed and installed emperors such as Dong Zhuo, and those who threw the state into chaos such as Li Jue and Guo Si to accompany him. Sun Quan, as a regional lord, divides the tripod, and so there are those who usurped imperial titles such as Yuan Shu, those who held sway as heroes such as Yuan Shao, and those who seized territory such as Lü Bu, Gongsun Zan, Zhang Yang, Zhang Miao, Zhang Lu, and Zhang Xiu to accompany him. Liu Bei and Cao Cao are introduced in the first chapter, while Sun Quan does not appear until the seventh chapter. The Caos establish their capital at Xuchang in the eleventh chapter; the Suns establish their dominion in Jiangdong in the twelfth chapter; and the Lius seize Xichuan only after the sixtieth chapter. If a modern writer of unofficial histories wished to fabricate a *Three Kingdoms* tale from nothing, he would surely begin by narrating the three men at the very outset, and the three men would each occupy a single state. Could anyone achieve such command of what comes before, such insight into what comes after, and such varied maneuvering around the central figures? The events of antiquity naturally contained such undulations, such layers and turns, to compose a peerless work of literature. Therefore, reading the *Three Kingdoms* is truly far superior to reading any other unofficial history.

If one speaks of the founding lords of the Three Kingdoms, all know them to be Liu Bei, Sun Quan, and Cao Cao, yet they do not realize that among them there are various differences. Bei and Cao both built their enterprises through their own efforts, whereas Sun Quan relied on the strength of his father and elder brother—this is the first difference. Bei and Quan both became emperors in their own lifetimes, whereas Cao Cao did not do so himself but left it to his sons and grandsons—this is the second difference. As for the assumption of the imperial title among the Three Kingdoms, only Wei did so early; Shu declared its empire only after Cao Cao had died and Cao Pi had taken the throne, and Wu declared its empire only after Liu Bei had died and Liu Shan had ascended—this is the third difference. As for the mutual contention among the Three Kingdoms, Wu was Shu's neighbor, and Wei was Shu's enemy; Shu and Wu had both peace and war between them, while Shu and Wu had only war and no peace; Wu and Wu had more peace than war, while Wu and Wei had more war than peace—this is the fourth difference. As for the succession among the Three Kingdoms, Shu lasted only two generations, while Wei had five rulers from Cao Pi to Cao Huan, and Wu had four rulers from Sun Quan to Sun Hao—this is the fifth difference. As for the fall of the Three Kingdoms, Wu perished last, while Shu fell first and Wei second. Wei was seized by its own ministers, while Wu and Shu were annexed by their enemies—this is the sixth difference. Nor is this all: between Ce and Quan, the elder brother died and the younger succeeded; between Pi and Zhi, the younger brother was passed over and the elder enthroned; between Bei and Shan, the father was emperor and the son became a captive; between Cao and Pi, the father was a minister and the son became a sovereign—truly, it is a pattern of variation and transformation without fixed rule! Now, an unskilled painter, even when depicting two men, will inevitably make them look alike. An unskilled singer, even when performing two melodies, will inevitably make the tones the same throughout. Literary redundancy is often of this sort. The ancients never had identical events, yet modern writers delight in producing identical prose. Why, then, do they not take up my annotated *Records of the Three Kingdoms* and read it?

The *Three Kingdoms* is a work in which, within the overall beginning and ending, there are six beginnings and six endings. In its narration of Emperor Xian, the deposition and installation by Dong Zhuo forms one beginning, and the usurpation by Cao Pi forms one ending. In its narration of Western Shu, the declaration of empire at Chengdu forms one beginning, and the surrender at Mianzhu forms one ending. In its narration of the three men Liu, Guan, and Zhang, the oath of brotherhood in the Peach Garden forms one beginning, and the entrusting of the orphan at Baidi forms one ending. In its narration of Zhuge Liang, the three visits to thatched cottage forms one beginning, and the six expeditions to Qishan forms one ending. In its narration of the state of Wei, the inauguration of the Huangchu era forms one beginning, and the receipt of the abdication by Sima forms one ending. In its narration of Eastern Wu, the hiding of the imperial seal by Sun Jian forms one beginning, and the surrender with the jade held in the mouth by Sun Hao forms one ending. All these passages interweave and connect with one another—where one side begins, the other has already concluded; where this one has not yet ended, that one has already begun. Reading them, one does not perceive the traces of interruption or continuation, yet examining them, one can discern that they possess a definite structure and method.

The *Three Kingdoms* is a work that possesses the wonder of tracing things to their source and following them to their root. The division into Three Kingdoms arose from the rivalrous establishment of the various warlords. The rivalrous establishment of the warlords arose from Dong Zhuo's throwing the state into chaos. Dong Zhuo threw the state into chaos because He Jin summoned external troops. He Jin summoned external troops because the Ten Eunuchs monopolized power. Therefore, in narrating the Three Kingdoms, one must take the Ten Eunuchs as the starting point. However, when Liu Bei first rose, he was not yet among the warlords but was still among the men of the wilds. The reason heroes gathered and swore brotherhood in the wilds, and the reason the warlords prepared and maintained their armies, was because of the Yellow Turban Rebellion. Therefore, in narrating the Three Kingdoms, one must also take the Yellow Turbans as a starting point. Now, before the Yellow Turbans rose, Heaven had sent down portents and omens as warnings, and there were loyal and far-sighted ministers who spoke frankly and remonstrated bluntly in anticipation. Had the ruler of that time embodied the benevolence of Heaven's heart and heeded the upright counsel of worthy ministers, resolutely dismissing and banishing the Ten Eunuchs, then the Yellow Turbans need not have risen, the heroes of the wilds need not have emerged, the warlords need not have prepared their armies, and the Three Kingdoms need not have been divided. Therefore, in narrating the Three Kingdoms and tracing it back to Emperors Huan and Ling, it is like the source of the Yellow River having its Xingxing Sea.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the marvel of artful convergence and wondrous resolution. Suppose Wei had been absorbed by Shu—this would be what people's hearts most desire. Suppose Shu had perished and Wei had unified the realm—this would be what people's hearts could most ill bear. Yet the will of Heaven neither granted what people's hearts most desired nor fell in line with what they could most ill bear. It specially employed Jin to unify the realm—this is the wondrous working of the Creator. But since Heaven neither blessed the House of Han nor favored Wei, why did it not employ Wu instead, and why must it have employed Jin? The answer is: Wei was a traitor to Han, it is true. Yet Wu slew Lord Guan, seized Jingzhou, and aided Wei in attacking Shu—so Wu too was a traitor to Han. As for Jin's seizure of Wei, it bore a resemblance to avenging the House of Han. Therefore, unifying the realm through Wu would not be as fitting as unifying it through Jin. Moreover, Wu was Wei's enemy, while Jin was Wei's vassal. Wei had a vassal slay his lord, and Jin requited Wei in kind by doing the same thing. This could serve as a warning to all under heaven and for all ages to come. Thus, it would be more gratifying for Wei to be absorbed by its own vassal than to be absorbed by its enemy. This is the artfulness of the Creator. The wondrous surpasses all expectation; the artfulness falls precisely within what men might anticipate. Truly, the Creator may be said to excel at composition. A writer of today could never achieve such wondrous turns or such artfulness. Since that is so, when one may read the natural compositions of the Creator, why on earth should one read the fabricated compositions of modern men?

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the marvel of using the subordinate to set off the principal. For example, before narrating the three sworn brothers of the Peach Garden, the text first narrates the three brothers of the Yellow Turbans: the Peach Garden brothers are the principal, the Yellow Turbans the subordinate. Before narrating the descendant of Prince Jing of Zhongshan, the text first narrates the descendant of Prince Gong of Lu: Prince Jing of Zhongshan is the principal, Prince Gong of Lu the subordinate. Before narrating He Jin, the text first narrates Chen Fan and Dou Wu: He Jin is the principal, Chen Fan and Dou Wu the subordinate. In recounting the outstanding qualities of Liu, Guan, and Zhang, and of Cao Cao and Sun Jian, the text also narrates the uselessness of the various lords of each region: Liu Bei, Cao Cao, and Sun Jian are the principal, the various regional lords the subordinate. Before Liu Bei is to meet Zhuge Liang, he first meets Sima Hui, Cui Zhouping, Shi Guangyuan, Meng Gongwei, and others: Zhuge Liang is the principal, Sima Hui and the others the subordinate. Zhuge Liang served two courts, yet there was also Xu Shu, who came early and left early, and Pang Tong, who came late but died first: Zhuge Liang is the principal, while Xu Shu and Pang Tong are again the subordinate. Zhao Yun first served Gongsun Zan; Huang Zhong first served Han玄; Ma Zhang first served Zhang Lu; Fa Zheng and Yan Yan first served Liu Zhang—yet all later submitted to Liu Bei: Liu Bei is the principal, Gongsun Zan, Han玄, Zhang Lu, and Liu Zhang the subordinate. Taishi Ci first served Liu Yao and later joined Sun Ce; Gan Ning first served Huang Zu and later joined Sun Quan; Zhang Lü first served Lü Bu; Xu Hang first served Yang Feng; Zhang He first served Yuan Shao; Jia Xu first served Li Jue and Zhang Xiu—yet all later submitted to Cao Cao: Sun and Cao are the principal, Liu Yao, Huang Zu, Lü Bu, Yang Feng, and the others the subordinate. The prophecy that he who would replace Han was the one on the road was fulfilled in Wei, yet Yuan Gonglu erroneously claimed it for himself: Wei is the principal, Yuan Gonglu the subordinate. The dream of three horses feeding from the same trough was fulfilled in the Sima clan, yet Cao Cao mistakenly believed it referred to Ma Teng and his sons: the Sima clan is the principal, Ma Teng and his sons the subordinate. As for the story of the abdication platform, Li Su used it to deceive Dong Zhuo, yet Cao Pi ascended the throne in truth, and Sima Yan too ascended the throne in truth: Cao Pi and Sima Yan are the principal, Dong Zhuo the subordinate. And it is not only persons who have principal and subordinate—places do as well. Emperor Xian moved from Luoyang to Chang'an, then from Chang'an back to Luoyang, and finally to Xuchang: Xuchang is the principal, Chang'an and Luoyang both the subordinate. Liu Bei lost Xuzhou but obtained Jingzhou: Jingzhou is the principal, Xuzhou the subordinate. When he gained the Two Sichuan Regions but lost Jingzhou: the Two Sichuan Regions are the principal, and Jingzhou is again the subordinate. Before Kongming was to campaign north against the Central Plains, he first pacified the southern barbarian regions—his intent lay not with the barbarian regions but with the Central Plains: the Central Plains are the principal, the barbarian regions the subordinate. Nor is it only places that have principal and subordinate—objects do as well. Li Ru presented poisoned wine, a short sword, and white silk to Emperor Bian: the poisoned wine is the principal, the short sword and white silk the subordinate. At the hunt at Xutian, before narrating Cao Cao shooting a deer, the text first narrates Xuande shooting a rabbit: the deer is the principal, the rabbit the subordinate. At the Battle of Red Cliff, before narrating Kongming borrowing the wind, the text first narrates Kongming borrowing arrows: the wind is the principal, the arrows the subordinate. Dong Cheng received a jade belt, accompanied by a brocade robe: the belt is the principal, the robe the subordinate. Lord Guan received the Red Hare Horse, accompanied by a golden seal, a red robe, and other gifts: the horse is the principal, the golden seal and the rest the subordinate. Cao Cao dug the ground and obtained a Bronze Sparrow, accompanied by a Jade Dragon and a Golden Phoenix: the sparrow is the principal, the dragon and phoenix the subordinate. Instances of this kind are too numerous to count. Those who are skilled at reading the book may, from these examples, apprehend the method of principal and subordinate in literary composition.

The novel *Three Kingdoms* possesses a remarkable quality: it is like a tree with different branches, branches with different leaves, leaves with different flowers, and flowers with different fruits. A skilled writer must be adept at avoidance, yet also adept at repetition. If one seeks to avoid without first repeating, no avoidance can be perceived; only by repeating and then avoiding does one's skill in avoidance become evident.

Consider the chronicling of the imperial harem: one writes of Empress He, and then of Empress Dong; of Empress Fu, and then of Empress Cao; of Noble Consort Tang, and then of Noble Lady Dong; of the two ladies Gan and Mi, and then of Lady Sun, and then of the Princess of Beidi; of Empress Zhen and Empress Mao of Wei, and then of Empress Zhang—yet not a single character among them is the same. In chronicling imperial in-laws, after He Jin comes Dong Cheng; after Dong Cheng comes Fu Wan; after Zhang Ji of Wei comes Qian Shang of Wu—yet again, not a single character is the same. In writing of powerful ministers, after Dong Zhuo come Li Jue and Guo Si; after Jue and Si comes Cao Cao; after Cao Cao comes Cao Pi; after Cao Pi comes Sima Yi; after Sima Yi come the brothers Shi and Zhao together; after Shi and Zhao comes Sima Yan, and alongside him Sun Chen of Wu—yet again, not a single character is the same.

When it comes to narrating affairs between brothers, Yuan Tan and Yuan Shang were at odds, Liu Qi and Liu琮 were at odds, and Cao Pi and Cao Zhi were likewise at odds—yet Tan and Shang both died, Qi and琮 one died and the other did not, while Pi and Zhi both survived. Is this not wonderfully different? In narrating matters of marriage, Dong Zhuo sought a marriage alliance with Sun Jian, Yuan Shu betrothed his daughter to Lü Bu, Cao Cao arranged a betrothal with Yuan Tan, Sun Quan gave his sister in marriage to Liu Bei and then sought a marriage alliance with Yunzhang—yet some were refused outright, some promised then broken, some feigned agreements that came to pass, and some genuine offers that were declined. Is this not wonderfully different?

Wang Yun employed the beauty stratagem, and Zhou Yu also employed the beauty stratagem—yet one succeeded and the other failed, making them different. Dong Zhuo and Lü Bu hated each other, and Li Jue and Guo Si hated each other—yet one conflict was resolved and the other was not, making them different. Emperor Xian issued two secret edicts—the first was concealed, the second was revealed. Ma Teng also launched two campaigns against the rebels—the first was open, the second was concealed. Herein lies their difference.

Lü Bu committed patricide twice: the first time motivated by wealth, the second by lust; the first time he sacrificed public duty for private gain, the second time he used public office to serve private ends. Herein lies another difference.

Zhao Yun rescued his lord twice: the first time on land, the second time on water; the first time he received the charge from the hands of the lord's mother, the second time he snatched the lord from the arms of the lord's mother. Herein lies yet another difference.

As for writing of water—it occurs more than once; writing of fire—it too occurs more than once. Cao Cao faced the waters of Xiapi and also the waters of Jizhou. Guan Yu encountered the waters of the Bai River and also the waters of Zengkou River. Lü Bu faced the fire at Puyang, Cao Cao the fire at Wuchao, Zhou Zhou the fire at Red Cliff, Lu Xun the fire at Xiaoting, Xu Sheng the fire at Nanxu, and Marquis Wu the fires at Bowang and Xintian, as well as the fires at Panshe Gu and Shangfang Gu. Has there been the slightest repetition among them all? Still more remarkably, Meng Huo was captured seven times, Qishan was campaigned against six times, and the Central Plains were invaded nine times—yet one cannot find a single repeated character among them. What sublime writing! It is like a tree that is always a tree, branches that are always branches, leaves that are always leaves, flowers that are always flowers—yet in sending down roots, setting buds, blooming, and bearing fruit, the five colors unfold in profusion, each forming its own distinct splendor.

From this, the reader may comprehend that in writing there is a method of avoidance, and also a method of repetition.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the wonder of shifting stars and turning constellations, of rain overturning and winds reversing. Du Fu's poem says: "Clouds in the sky are like white robes; in an instant they change into grey dogs." This speaks to the unpredictability of worldly affairs. The writing of *Three Kingdoms* is just the same. It begins with He Jin plotting to kill the eunuchs, yet ends up with the eunuchs killing He Jin—one transformation. It begins with Lü Bu assisting Ding Yuan, yet ends up with Lü Bu killing Ding Yuan—one transformation. It begins with Dong Zhuo befriending Lü Bu, yet ends up with Lü Bu killing Dong Zhuo—one transformation. It begins with Chen Gong releasing Cao Cao, yet ends up with Chen Gong wanting to kill Cao Cao—one transformation. Chen Gong fails to kill Cao Cao, and instead it turns out that Cao Cao kills Chen Gong—one transformation. It begins with Wang Yun refusing to pardon Guo Si and Li Jue, yet ends up with Guo Si and Li Jue killing Wang Yun—one transformation. It begins with Sun Jian and Yuan Shu being at odds, yet ends up with Yuan Shu sending a letter to Sun Jian—one transformation. It begins with Liu Biao seeking aid from Yuan Shao, yet ends up with Liu Biao killing Sun Jian—one transformation. It begins with the Liege following Yuan Shao to attack Dong Zhuo, yet ends up with him assisting Gongsun Zan to attack Yuan Shao—one transformation. It begins with the Liege rescuing Xuzhou, yet ends up with the Liege seizing Xuzhou—one transformation. It begins with Lü Bu going to Xuzhou, yet ends up with Lü Bu seizing Xuzhou—one transformation. It begins with Lü Bu attacking the Liege, yet ends up with Lü Bu welcoming the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Lü Bu breaking with Yuan Shu, and then it turns out that Lü Bu seeks help from Yuan Shu—one transformation. It begins with the Liege assisting Lü Bu to attack Yuan Shu, and then it turns out that he assists Cao Cao to kill Lü Bu—one transformation. It begins with the Liege assisting Cao Cao, and then it turns out that the Liege attacks Cao Cao—one transformation. It begins with the Liege attacking Yuan Shao, and then it turns out that the Liege joins Yuan Shao—one transformation. It begins with the Liege assisting Yuan Shao to attack Cao Cao, and then it turns out that Guan Yu assists Cao Cao to attack Yuan Shao—one transformation. It begins with Guan Yu seeking the Liege, and then it turns out that Zhang Fei wants to kill Guan Yu—one transformation. It begins with Guan Yu wanting to kill Cao Cao at Xutian, and then it turns out that Guan Yu releases Cao Cao at Huarong—one transformation. It begins with Cao Cao pursuing the Liege, and then it turns out that the Liege joins Eastern Wu to defeat Cao Cao—one transformation. It begins with Sun Quan being an enemy of Liu Biao, and then it turns out that Lu Su offers condolences at Liu Biao's funeral, and also at Liu Qi's—one transformation. It begins with Kongming assisting Zhou Yu, yet ends up with Zhou Yu wanting to kill Kongming—one transformation. It begins with Zhou Yu wanting to harm the Liege, yet ends up with Sun Quan giving his sister in marriage to the Liege—one transformation. It begins with using Lady Sun to restrain the Liege, yet ends up with Lady Sun assisting the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Kongming angering Zhou Yu to death, and then it turns out that Kongming mourns Zhou Yu—one transformation. It begins with the Liege not accepting Liu Biao's Jing Province, yet ends up with the Liege borrowing Jing Province—one transformation. It begins with Liu Zhang wanting to ally with Cao Cao, yet ends up with him welcoming the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Liu Zhang welcoming the Liege, yet ends up with the Liege seizing Liu Zhang's territory—one transformation. It begins with the Liege dividing Jing Province, and then it turns out that Lü Meng seizes Jing Province—one transformation. It begins with the Liege defeating Eastern Wu, and then it turns out that Lu Xun defeats the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Sun Quan seeking aid from Cao Pi, yet ends up with Cao Pi wanting to attack Sun Quan—one transformation. It begins with the Liege being an enemy of Eastern Wu, and then it turns out that Kongming makes peace with Eastern Wu—one transformation. It begins with Feng Feng listening to Meng Da, yet ends up with Liu Feng attacking Meng Da—one transformation. It begins with Meng Da betraying the Liege, and then it turns out that Meng Da wants to return to Kongming—one transformation. It begins with Ma Teng working alongside the Liege, and then it turns out that Ma Chao attacks the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Ma Chao aiding Liu Zhang, yet ends up with Ma Chao joining the Liege—one transformation. It begins with Jiang Wei opposing Kongming, yet ends up with Jiang Wei assisting Kongming—one transformation. It begins with Xiahou Ba assisting Sima Yi, yet ends up with Xiahou Ba assisting Jiang Wei—one transformation. It begins with Zhong Hui being jealous of Deng Ai, yet ends up with Wei Guan killing Deng Ai—one transformation. It begins with Jiang Wei tricking Zhong Hui, yet ends up with the generals killing Zhong Hui—one transformation. It begins with Yang Hu and Lu Kang being on friendly terms, yet ends up with Yang Hu requesting to attack Sun Hao—one transformation. It begins with Yang Hu requesting to attack Wu, and then it brings forth a Du Yu, and then a Wang Jun—one transformation. In terms of its method of foreshadowing, reading the earlier volumes, one is certain to know what the later volumes hold; in terms of its boundless transformations, reading the earlier passages, one never anticipates what the later passages will bring. In what can be foreseen, one sees the refinement of *Three Kingdoms*' writing; in what cannot be foretold, one sees even more the phantasmagoria of *Three Kingdoms*' writing.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the wonder of horizontal clouds cutting through ridges and horizontal bridges locking streams. In writing, there are passages that should be connected and passages that should be severed. Such as slaying six generals through five passes, three visits to the thatched cottage, and seven captures of Meng Huo—these are passages that excel in connection. Such as three angers to Zhou Yu, six expeditions from Qishan, and nine campaigns against the Central Plains—these are passages that excel in severance. For when a passage is short, narrating it without connection leaves it incoherent; when a passage is long, narrating it connected risks making it tedious. Therefore, it is necessary to narrate other matters to intersperse it, so that the literary force becomes intricately varied and fully transformed. Later generations of popular fiction writers have rarely been able to match this.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the wonder of seeing sleet before snow and hearing thunder before rain. When there is to be a major passage later, there must first be a minor passage to serve as its introduction. When there is to be a grand passage later, there must first be a smaller passage to serve as its beginning. For example, before narrating the fire at Puyang involving Cao Cao, a minor passage about the fire at the home of Mi Zhu is written to introduce it; before narrating Kong Rong seeking aid from the Liege, a minor passage about Kong Rong assassinating Li Hong is written to introduce it; before narrating the grand passage of the fire at Red Cliffs, two smaller passages about Bowang and Xinye are written to introduce it; before narrating the grand passage of the six expeditions from Qishan, the smaller passage of the seven captures of Meng Huo is written to introduce it. When the people of Lu were to perform a great sacrifice to God, they would first perform a sacrifice at the Pangong. The wonder of literary writing is precisely of this kind.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of ripples following waves and gentle rain after a downpour. Where writing is truly remarkable, there must be foreshadowing before the event and lingering momentum after it. Thus, after Dong Zhuo, rebel followers arise to continue the tale; after the Yellow Turban Rebellion, surviving partisans carry the story forward; after Liu Bei's three visits to the thatched cottage, there follows the episode of Liu Qi's three requests to Zhuge Liang as a mirrored accompaniment; and after the great narrative of Zhuge Liang's northern campaigns, there follows the episode of Jiang Wei's expeditions against Wei as a rippling continuation. All such instances are found in no other work.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of ice dispelling heat and a cool breeze sweeping away dust. For example, when Lord Guan is slashing his way through five passes, suddenly there appears the passage of meeting Elder Pu Jing at Zhenguo Temple; when Liu Bei leaps his horse across the Tan Stream, suddenly there appears the episode of meeting Master Sima at Shuijing Manor; when Sun Ce has established himself like a tiger east of the Yangtze, suddenly there appears the episode of encountering Yu Ji; when Cao Cao receives the title of King of Wei, suddenly there appears the episode of encountering Zuo Ci; when Liu Bei makes his three visits to the thatched cottage, suddenly there appears the episode of encountering Cui Zhouping sitting on the ground in leisurely conversation; after Lord Guan has flooded the seven armies, suddenly there appears the episode of spiritual enlightenment beneath the moon at Yuquan Mountain. And then, when Zhuge Liang campaigns against the southern barbarians, he unexpectedly encounters Meng Jie; when Lu Xun pursues the Shu forces, he unexpectedly encounters Huang Chengyan; when Zhang Ren faces the enemy, he unexpectedly meets the Purple Void Elder; when Liu Bei wages war on Wu, he unexpectedly inquires of the old man of Qingcheng—now a monk, now a Taoist, now a recluse, now a man of superior insight—all sought amid the utmost clamor, truly enough to settle the restless mind and cleanse the troubled heart.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of reed pipes accompanying drums and zithers interspersed with bells. Thus, in the midst of narrating the Yellow Turbans' upheaval, suddenly there appears the passage of the two empresses, Empress He and Empress Dong, arguing at court; in the midst of narrating Dong Zhuo's domineering career, suddenly there appears the episode of Diaochan at Phoenix Pavilion; in the midst of narrating the rampages of Li Jue and Guo Si, suddenly there appears the episode of Yang Biao's wife visiting Guo Si's wife; in the midst of narrating the battle for Xiapi, suddenly there appears the episode of Lü Bu sending off his wife and Lady Yan pining for her husband; in the midst of narrating the carnage in Jizhou, suddenly there appears the episode of Yuan Tan losing his wife and Cao Pi taking a bride; in the midst of narrating the upheaval in Jingzhou, suddenly there appears the episode of Lady Cai's deliberations; in the midst of narrating the fierce battle at Red Cliff, suddenly there appears the episode of Cao Cao desiring to seize the two Qiaos; in the midst of narrating the assault on Wancheng, suddenly there appears the episode of Zhang Ji's wife encountering Cao Cao; in the midst of narrating Zhao Yun's capture of Guiyang, suddenly there appears the episode of Zhao Fan's widowed sister-in-law offering wine; in the midst of narrating Liu Bei's struggle for Jingzhou, suddenly there appears the episode of Sun Quan's sister in the bridal chamber; in the midst of narrating Sun Quan's campaign against Huang Zu, suddenly there appears the episode of Sun Yi's wife avenging her husband; in the midst of narrating Sima Yi's execution of Cao Shuang, suddenly there appears the episode of Xian Xianying devising strategy for her younger brother. And then, when Yuan Shao attacks Cao Cao, the narrative suddenly includes the episode of Zheng Kangcheng's maid; when Cao Cao relieves the Hanzhong front, the narrative suddenly includes the episode of Cai Zhonglang's daughter. Instances of this kind are too numerous to count. People know only that the writing of *Three Kingdoms* narrates matters of dragon-versus-tiger contention, but they do not realize that it also presents phoenixes and luan-birds, orioles and swallows—so many that one can barely take them all in. It makes one encounter red skirts even amid ranks of spears and halberds, and glimpse powdered faces even among the shadows of banners and pennants. It is as though a chronicle of bold warriors and a chronicle of beautiful women have been combined into a single book.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of sowing seeds a year ahead and planting foreshadowing long in advance. A skilled gardener casts seeds upon the ground and waits for the proper season to bring them forth; a skilled chess player places a seemingly idle move dozens of turns ahead, and its effect appears dozens of turns later. The method of narrative in literature is no different. Thus, Liu Zhang of Western Shu is the son of Liu Yan, yet before narrating Liu Bei in the first chapter, Liu Yan is narrated first—early planting a seed for the later seizure of Western Shu. Again, when Xuande defeats the Yellow Turbans, Cao Cao is narrated alongside and Dong Zhuo is mentioned in passing—early planting seeds for Dong Zhuo's disruption of the state and Cao Cao's usurpation of power. Zhao Yun joins Xuande at the gathering at Gucheng, but Xuande's meeting with Zhao Yun was foreshadowed earlier, at the Battle of the Pan River against Gongsun Zan. Ma Chao joins Xuande after the clash with Zhang Fei at Jiameng, but Xuande's association with Ma Teng was foreshadowed earlier, when they jointly received the secret edict in the sash. Pang Tong joins Xuande after Zhou Yu's death, but the boy's mention of Pang Tong's name was foreshadowed earlier, before Shuijing Manor. Zhuge Liang's sigh of "Man proposes, God disposes" comes after the fire at Shangfang Valley, but Sima Hui's remark that "the time has not yet come" and Cui Zhouping's words that "Heaven cannot be defied" were foreshadowed earlier, before the three visits to the thatched cottage. Liu Shan ruled Shu for over forty years before the end, which comes after chapter one hundred and ten, but the omen of the crane's cry was foreshadowed earlier, at Liu Shan's birth in Xinye. Jiang Wei's nine campaigns against the Central Plains come after chapter one hundred and five, but Zhuge Liang's recruitment of Jiang Wei was foreshadowed earlier, at the first expedition out of Qishan. Jiang Wei's encounter with Deng Ai comes after the third campaign against the Central Plains; Jiang Wei's encounter with Zhong Hui comes after the ninth campaign; but Xiahou Ba's naming of both men was foreshadowed earlier, before any campaign against the Central Plains had begun. Cao Pi's usurpation of the Han occurs around chapter eighty, but the auspicious sign of blue and purple clouds was foreshadowed earlier, before chapter thirty-three. Sun Ce's assumption of the imperial title occurs after chapter eighty-five, but Lady Wu's dream of the sun was foreshadowed earlier, in chapter thirty-eight. Sima's usurpation of Wei occurs in chapter one hundred and nineteen, but Cao Cao's dream of the horses was foreshadowed earlier, in chapter fifty-seven. Beyond these, the instances of foreshadowing are too numerous to count. One often sees that in recent times, when vernacular novelists reach a point where they are at a loss to carry the narrative forward, they conjure up a person from thin air and invent an event out of nothing, so that the later portion is cut off from the earlier portion and bears no relation to it. Let such a person try reading the writing of *Three Kingdoms* and see if he does not blush with shame!

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of adding silk to brocade and evening out stitches with even needlework. In the method of narration, what is lacking in this chapter is supplied in that chapter; what is excessive in the upper scroll is distributed into the lower scroll. This not only prevents the earlier writing from becoming tedious, but also keeps the later writing from feeling sparse; it not only ensures that no prior events are left out, but also enhances the rendering of later events: this is indeed a masterpiece of historiographical craft. For example, Lü Bu's taking of Cao Bao's daughter, which originally occurred before the seizure of Xuzhou, is recounted instead during the siege of Xiapi; Cao Cao's "plugging at plums to quench thirst," which originally occurred during the campaign against Zhang Xiu, is recounted instead during the green plum and wine drinking; Guan Ning's cutting of the mat to sit apart, which originally occurred before Hua Xin took office, is recounted instead during the breaking of the wall to retrieve the empress; Lady Wu's dream of the moon, which originally occurred before the birth of Sun Ce, is recounted instead during her deathbed behest; and Marquis Wu's seeking of a wife from the Huang family, which originally occurred before emerging from the thatched cottage, is recounted instead during the martyrdom ofuge Zhan. Instances of this kind are too numerous to count. The earlier sections leave room to answer for the later, and the later sections reflect back to answer for the earlier—so that reading it, one truly finds an entire work reading like a single sentence.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of dark, heavy strokes for nearby mountains and light, faint outlines for distant trees. In the painter's craft, mountains and trees that are near are rendered dark and heavy; mountains and trees that are distant are rendered light and faint. Were it otherwise—with forests stretching far and mountain mist layered upon layer—how could everything be meticulously depicted within the span of a single scroll? Writing is precisely the same. For example, Huangfu Song's defeat of the Yellow Turbans is learned entirely through inquiries on the side of Zhu Jun; Yuan Shao's killing of Gongsun Zan is learned entirely through inquiries on the side of Cao Cao; Zhao Yun's capture of Nan Commandery and Guan Yu and Zhang Fei's capture of the two commanderies are learned entirely through Zhou Yu's eyes and ears; Liu Bei's killing of Yang Feng and Han Xian is narrated entirely through Liu Bei's own words; Zhang Fei's seizure of the old city is heard entirely through Guan Yu's ears; Jian Yong's going over to Yuan Shao is spoken entirely through Liu Bei's words. As for Cao Pi's three-pronged attack on Wu, all of which ended in defeat—one route is written in full detail, while the two others are written with deliberate brevity; and when Marquis Wu repelled Cao Pi's five-pronged army, only the dispatch of an envoy to Wu is written in full detail, while the other four routes are written with deliberate brevity. Instances of this kind are likewise too numerous to count. A mere sentence or two—one hardly knows how many events it encompasses, how many brushstrokes it economizes.

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses the exquisite art of strange peaks facing each other and embroidered screens standing in opposition. Its methods of pairing include direct contrasts, inverse contrasts, contrasts made within a single scroll, and contrasts spanning dozens of scrolls in distant echo. For example: Liu Bei was great from childhood, while Cao Cao was treacherous from childhood. Zhang Fei was impetuous through and through, while He Jin was slow-witted through and through. The discussion at Wenming Hall showed Dong Zhuo's lack of loyalty to his sovereign; the killing of Ding Yuan showed Lü Bu's lack of filial piety to his father. At the Battle of Pan River, Yuan Shao's fortunes shifted between victory and defeat unpredictably; at the campaign on Mount Xian, Sun Jian's fate between life and death hung in the balance. Ma Teng served the royal house without success, yet his loyalty remained unimpeachable; Cao Cao avenged his father without completing the deed, and so could not be called filial. Yuan Shao raised three armies of horse and foot only only to withdraw—he had the strength to fight but lacked the resolve to decide; Liu Bei captured the two generals Wang and Liu only to release them—his position was too weak, so he yielded to expedience. Kong Rong recommended Mi Heng—this was the affection praised in the "Black Robes"; Mi Heng reviled Cao Cao—this was the resentment of the "Lane Elder." Liu Bei's meeting with De Cao was an encounter by chance; Shan Fu's passing through Xinyang was a visit by design. Cao Pi bitterly pressed the life out of Cao Zhi—brothers became enemies; Liu Bei wept bitterly over Guan Yu's death—men of different surnames were as flesh and bone. The fire was extinguished at Shangfang Valley—Sima's fate was to live; the lamp went out at Wuzhang Yuan—Zhuge Liang's fate was to die. Instances of this kind—whether direct contrasts or inverse contrasts—are all pairings that occur within a single chapter. As for those who harm their own in-laws through in-laws: there is He Jin. As for those who recommend their own in-laws through in-laws: there is Fu Wan. Li Su persuaded Lü Bu—using cunning to abet his evil; Wang Yun persuaded Lü Bu—using skill to advance his loyalty. Zhang Fei lost Xuzhou—through the fault of drinking; Lü Bu fell at Xiapi—through the calamity of banning wine. Guan Yu drank Lu Su's wine—it was an expression of divine awe; Yang Hu drank Lu Kang's wine—it was an expression of harmonious spirit. Zhuge Liang did not kill Meng Huo—this was the magnanimity of the benevolent; Sima Yi would not spare Gongsun Yuan—this was the harshness of the treacherous hero. Guan Yu released Cao Cao on grounds of honor—repaying a debt received before; Zhang Fei released Yan Yan on grounds of honor—winning his service for later. Zhuge Liang did not use the Ziwu Valley plan—he deliberated carefully to ensure complete success; Deng Ai did not fear the peril of Yinping Ridge—he courted danger in pursuit of fortune. Cao Cao was ill, and a single scolding from Chen Lin cured him; Wang Lang was well, and a single scolding from Zhuge Liang killed him. Lady Sun delighted in arms and armor—a woman among women; Sima Yi accepted the headscarf and skirt—a woman among men. Taking Shangyong in eight days—swiftness made it miraculous; taking Xiangping in a hundred days—slowness brought victory. Zhuge Liang tilled the fields at Weibin—it was the main stratagem for advance; Jiang Wei tilled the fields at Dazhong—it was the plan for retreat. Cao Cao received the Nine Distinctions from Han—this was Cao's lack of submission as a subject; Sun Quan received the Nine Distinctions from Wei—this was Quan's lack of sovereignty as a ruler. Cao Cao shot at a deer—his conduct violated the bond between sovereign and minister; Cao Pi shot at a deer—his feelings stirred the bond between mother and son. Yang Yi and Wei Yan contended with each other on the day of the army's withdrawal; Deng Ai and Zhong Hui suspected each other at the time of military operations. Jiang Wei sought to carry on Zhuge Liang's ambition—but human effort ran counter to Heaven's will; Du Yu was able to inherit Yang Hu's strategy—and Heaven's timing answered to human effort. Instances of this kind—whether direct contrasts or inverse contrasts—are all pairings that do not occur within a single chapter but echo each other from afar. If one truly measures and compares them here, would it not be enough to delight the heart of those who read the ancients and broaden the knowledge of those who delight in evaluating the past!

The *Three Kingdoms* possesses major correspondences between its beginning and end, and pivotal linkages throughout its middle. For example, the first chapter opens with the Ten Regular Attendants [eunuchs], and the final chapter concludes with Liu Shan's favoring of the palace eunuchs, while also doubling the correspondence with Sun Hao's favoring of the palace eunuchs—this is one major correspondence. Likewise, the first chapter opens with the sorcery of the Yellow Turbans, and the final chapter concludes with Liu Shan's belief in a sorceress, while also doubling the correspondence with Sun Hao's belief in a sorceress—this is another major correspondence. Since the correspondences lie at the beginning and end, if within the hundred-odd chapters between them there were nothing that connected with the preceding and following portions, the compositional method would be incomplete. Therefore, there is Fu Wan entrusting a eunuch with a letter, and Sun Liang detecting a eunuch stealing honey, which serve to link the preceding and following portions. There are also Li Jue's delight in a sorceress, and Zhang Lu's employment of heterodox arts, which serve to link the preceding and following portions. All such instances are divinely wrought, serving to perfect the structure of the entire work. Yet this is not all. The author's intention extends beyond eunuchs and sorcery to a stern emphasis on punishing rebellious ministers and villainous sons, in order to align himself with the principles of the *Spring and Autumn Annals*. Hence the book repeatedly records the loyalty of those who punish rebels and chronicles the evil of those who murder their sovereigns. At the end of the first chapter, it concludes with Zhang Fei's furious desire to kill Dong Zhuo. At the end of the final chapter, it concludes with Sun Hao's concealed desire to kill Jia Chong. Viewed in this light, though it is called a "popularized history," it may well stand alongside the Unicorn Classic [the *Spring and Autumn Annals*] without shame.

The narrative excellence of *Three Kingdoms* is truly comparable to that of the *Records of the Grand Historian*; yet the difficulty of its narrative is several times greater than that of the *Records*. In the *Records*, each state is treated separately and each person recorded separately, hence the distinction between Basic Annals, Hereditary Houses, and Biographies. In *Three Kingdoms*, however, it is as though the Basic Annals, Hereditary Houses, and Biographies are merged into a single composition. When divided, the writing is short and easier to execute; when combined, the writing is long and harder to do well.

Reading *Three Kingdoms* surpasses reading the *Chronicles of the States*. Now the *Zuo Commentary* and the *Discourses of the States* are indeed among the finest works of literature. However, Master Zuo composed his commentary in reliance on the Classic, and since the Classic forms self-contained passages section by section, so too does the commentary form self-contained passages section by section, without connecting them. The *Discourses of the States*, being independent of the Classic, forms its own book and could have connected its passages; yet in the end the *Discourses of Zhou*, *Lu*, *Jin*, *Zheng*, *Qi*, *Chu*, *Wu*, and *Yue*—eight states divided into eight sections—are likewise not connected with one another. Later generations combined the *Zuo Commentary* and the *Discourses of the States* into the *Chronicles of the States*; but because the states were numerous and events complex, the passages ultimately could not be strung together. Now the *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, read from first chapter to last, has no single place where it could be broken off. This book therefore stands above the *Chronicles of the States*.

Reading *Three Kingdoms* surpasses reading *Journey to the West*. *Journey to the West* fabricates matters of demons and monsters—absurd and contrary to reason. It is not like *Three Kingdoms*, which faithfully records matters of emperors and kings, genuine and verifiable. Moreover, whatever merits *Journey to the West* possesses, *Three Kingdoms* already has them all. Instances such as the Mute Spring and the Black Spring are no different in marvel from the Child-Mother River and the Miscarriage Spring. Figures such as King Duosi and King Lumu are no different in their appellations from the Ox Demon, Deer-Strength, Gold-Horn, and Silver-Horn. Instances such as the Marquis of Fubo manifesting his spirit and the Mountain Spirit giving guidance are no different from the saving grace of Guanyin of the Southern Sea. A single volume, the *Record of the Han Chancellor's Southern Expedition*, is worth an entire *Journey to the West*. As for the Temple Protecting the State in the earlier part and the Jade Spring Mountain in the latter part—where in one a gaze upon a precept knife delivers one from the calamity of fire, and in another a single utterance toward the void is like a staff-stroke shout—must one recite the texts of "Spiritual Platform, Square Inch" and "Slanting Dipper, Three Stars" before one can awaken to the mind of Zen?

Reading *Three Kingdoms* surpasses reading *Water Margin*. The authenticity of *Water Margin*'s writing, though superior to the fantasy of *Journey to the West*, yet its creations out of nothing and its arbitrary beginnings and endings—its ingenuity is not difficult. In the end, it cannot match *Three Kingdoms*, which narrates fixed events that cannot be altered, yet still achieves ingenuity—that is the true difficulty. Moreover, the abundance of talent in the Three Kingdoms period is portrayed, each figure excelling in his own way, and there are those who tower ten thousand times above Wu Yong, Gongsun Sheng, and the rest. I say that among the ranks of "books of genius," the *Romance of the Three Kingdoms* should be ranked first.

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*Romance of the Three Kingdoms*