Chinese Achilles (3of4): The Fleeing General
How China's greatest warrior went from ruler to refugee
Chang’an was burning.
Greasy plumes of smoke were rising all over the capital. Angry shouts and bloodcurdling screams could be heard in the distance. Though Dong Zhuo had been dead for over a month, his banners could be seen at the far end of the city, growing in size as they pillaged and murdered officials and civilians alike.
Meanwhile, citizens clustered around the Eastern gate were greeted with a hopeful sight. At the head of a column of mighty cavalry rode the great Lü Bu. Perhaps, some thought, they could put down what possessions they carried and return home. After all, one half of the nation’s ruling coalition was here. With his Excellency Wang Yun, Administrator Over the Land, as the moral center and Lü Bu, killer of the tyrant Dong Zhuo, as its muscle they ought to be safe. Only something was off.
Lü Bu’s and his horsemen were covered in grime. The great warrior himself did not make eye contact with any of the citizenry. When they got to the gate, they plowed through the people without so much as saluting the guards.
Slowly, it dawned on the poor refugees who once called Chang’an their home: The “City of Eternal Peace” would know peace no more. Like a dream, they recalled their elation over Dong Zhuo’s death and his replacement by the righteous Wang Yun and powerful Lü Bu. Somehow, in barely a month it was all gone.
They turned to watch the invincible Lü Bu fade into the distance, tied to his saddle was Dong Zhuo’s head. Once again, he would attempt to make a gift of his most recent foster father’s skull to his new lord.
As with before, Lü Bu’s bold act quickly turned into a disastrous nightmare. Things started off well. After killing Dong Zhuo and forming a new government with the high official Wang Yun, he was showered with honors and feted in a great ceremony.
But while the capital celebrated, Dong Zhuo’s power base plotted revenge. As much as Lü Bu was loved in Chang’an he was equally hated by the people of Liang province, who knew him as the backstabbing son who’d killed their beloved lord and protector. Perhaps underestimating how many more men would be needed to win a battle without him, the forces Lü Bu sent to kill Dong Zhuo’s son-in-law and wipe up any remaining forces met with defeat. Fortunately for Lü Bu, Dong’s former subordinates finished the job for him and sent the son-in-law’s head to the capital. All they wanted in return, they said, was amnesty.
Unfortunately for Lü Bu, his righteous co-ruler refused. Soon, conspiracy theories of an imminent purge spread like wildfire amongst any and all who once called Dong Zhuo master. Within days, an armed mob of veterans, officials, and even civilians had formed outside the gates.
As warriors do, Lü Bu proposed to settle everything man-to-man with their leader, Guo Si. Though the duel was quick, ending with an injured Guo Si being rescued by his troops, the mob was actually beyond anyone’s control. Surging forward, they overwhelmed Chang’an’s defenses. Lü Bu used the world’s fastest horse to get him from one end of the city to the other, a few hundred of his fastest riders barely keeping up. He stopped only to retrieve his foster father’s head. In the end, the great hero had saved nobody, not even his own family who he was forced to abandon in his flight.
One day a messenger came to the palatial offices of the Administrator of Nanyang with a peculiar letter. The man who held that office, Yuan Shu, was an aristocrat through and through. A descendant of over four generations of high-ranking officials, Yuan’s obsessions included hunting with dogs, falconry, and displays of gallantry. He read the missive with disgust. The young upstart, a savage wolf-dog from the Steppe who once killed his own father to serve as the tyrant Dong Zhuo’s foster son, had now devoured his new father and proposed to serve Yuan Shu!
While Lü Bu might have spun patricide into patriotism in his own head, Yuan Shu wasn’t buying it. It mattered not that the kid had accomplished what the coalition Yuan Shu and his half-brother, Yuan Shao, had failed to do—kill Dong Zhuo. Some things, like murdering your lord and father, just aren’t done.
Whether Yuan Shu ever met with Lü Bu is unclear, but what isn’t up for debate is how Lü Bu expressed his rage at not getting more respect for killing Dong Zhuo: by letting his men plunder Yuan Shu’s holdings. After the red mist cleared from his eyes, Lü Bu realized that Yuan Shu would now see him as a threat. Fleeing once more, Lü Bu headed north to join Yuan Shu’s hated older half-brother, Yuan Shao.
After the coalition had failed to capture Dong Zhuo in Chang’an, its members went from eyeing each other with suspicion to outright hostility. Nowhere was the hatred more open than amongst the long-bickering brothers, Yuan Shu and Yuan Shao. After forcing various coalition members to choose sides, they were now actively warring with each other. Clearly, an enemy of Dong Zhuo wasn’t necessarily Yuan Shao’s friend, but an enemy of his half-brother? That was someone he could work with!
The bandit chief Zhang Yan shuddered to hear the drums of war for the fourth time that day. Several times a day for over a week, Lü Bu had raided his camp at will. Like a demon astride a beast of fire, the great warrior leaped over their defenses with a few dozen riders, wreaked havoc, and then hewed his way out before he could mount a proper response. Though the chief himself had thousands of elite cavalry and soldiers, the powerlessness that Lü Bu wrought was felt by all. Unable to do anything to stop this clockwork killer, morale plummeted.
Rather than stay and face mass desertion or worse, mutiny and murder, Zhang Yan gave the order to retreat. Let Yuan Shao have this hill, for now, he thought, for Zhang Yan knew Lü Bu. The chieftain had even given him and his men shelter during his flight from Chang’an.
Formidable warrior though he might be, Zhang Yan recognized in Lü Bu the heart of a fellow gangster. Unlike the aristocratic military man Yuan Shao, the bandit chief was used to leading riff-raff and lost boys.
Under Zhang Yan’s leadership, they took whatever they wanted despite numerous official attempts to “pacify” his crew. Now he was biding his time. Hang around long enough, he knew, and the rebel eventually becomes the authority. The only pacification possible would be to make him the local government. Eventually, whoever came out on top would see things his way. As for Lü Bu, his ambitions and impatience meant he wouldn’t be serving anyone for long...
Unlike his half-brother, Yuan Shao didn’t care about your background so long as you had talent. But even he had his limits. After a series of audacious raids against Yuan Shao’s enemies, Lü Bu once again showed his resentment over not getting enough credit. He belittled Yuan Shao and his followers to their faces—a habit he picked up from daddy Dong Zhuo—and then had the audacity to ask Yuan Shao for more soldiers.
While Yuan Shao didn’t need a management degree to know that you shouldn’t let the new hire who insults you and your team manage some of the employees he just finished insulting, Lü Bu was flabbergasted when his promotion was denied. So like any awful employee, he and his disgruntled team went looting again. Afterward, he gave the ancient equivalent of two weeks’ notice and told Yuan Shao he was going back to Luoyang.
Hiding his rage behind a veneer of cordiality as only a cold-blooded aristocrat can, Yuan Shao pretended to welcome the idea, even offering to be a reference. He then made a great show of seeing Lü Bu off. Bringing with him an armed escort of 30 soldiers, Yuan Shao appeared to be making up for his earlier lack of respect. Secretly, he had these soldiers trail Lü Bu to his tent. That night they pounced, stabbing its inhabitant to death. Pulling back the covers, they were surprised to find a common soldier. Suspecting that a wish for his demise was now one of the few things both Yuan brothers had in common, Lü Bu had left a decoy in his tent and was long gone.
By now you may have noticed a cycle in Lü Bu’s life, of which even the greatest warrior cannot fight his way out. Give Lü Bu what he wants, and he’ll convince himself he deserves more. Don’t give him enough, and he’ll seeth and attempt to take everything by force. What he succeeds in taking by force, he quickly loses due to poor judgment and a lack of self-control. Always overvaluing his own contributions while undervaluing those of others, it’s no wonder that despite having no descriptions of Lü Bu’s appearance from when he was alive, every depiction of him is that of a fresh-faced youth. An impetuous man-child too immature to grow a beard.
Still, there’s no doubt as to Lü Bu’s raw fighting talent, and the inflated self-confidence it gave him was infectious. So much so that when a neighboring warlord was off avenging his father’s death, his subordinates invited Lü Bu to take over. Handed a fiefdom after nearly every position he’d held until then had ended in disaster, Lü Bu seemed to embody the phrase “failing upward”. What Lü Bu did not expect, however, was that the old owner of the territory he was seizing would be totally unlike him.
Cao Cao was someone who could actually control his passions. Read Part 4 Here
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Next week is the real conclusion of this series on the life of Lü Bu. I know I had originally intended this to be a 3-parter. But after digging into several primary sources on his life after killing Dong Zhuo, I’ve found too much to be covered in just one more post. Either way, I’ve had a lot of fun writing these and am truly grateful for the response it’s gotten.
Not only will this be the final installment, but Three Kingdoms fans will surely recognize some iconic characters, while those looking for more battlefield epicness from China’s greatest fighter will not be disappointed.
So if you’ve enjoyed the series so far, you’ll definitely want to come back for one more!