Chinese Achilles (4o4): Tying a Tiger
Lü Bu is defeated by a scholar warrior, who lets a sandal maker decide his fate
The conclusion to our series on the warrior Lü Bu. Find here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
On a cold February day in 199 AD, a small band of soldiers arrived outside the camp besieging the city of Xiapi. They asked to see the emperor’s new protector and Minister of Works (and some would say puppet master), Cao Cao (pronounced Tsao-Tsao). With them, bound and helpless, was their leader, Lü Bu.
If Lü Bu had any doubts as to his survival, it didn’t show. With his typical bravado, Lü Bu asked that his tight bonds be loosened. Looking into his haughty countenance, Cao Cao replied, “A tiger must be tightly restrained.”
Undeterred, Lü Bu adopted a more convivial tone. Glancing up into the face of his sometime enemy, sometimes ally, he said with concern, “My lord, you’ve lost weight! Why?”
At this, Cao Cao’s face lit up with surprise. For though the two had corresponded across great distances from both sides of the battle line, he’d never seen the legend in person.
“How do you recognize me?” He asked, and Lü Bu reminded him of a chance meeting years ago in the idyllic gardens of Luoyang, before the world unraveled. If only they had been able to do something back then, perhaps all the bloodshed could have been avoided.
Softening, Cao Cao replied, “Ah, yes! Well, I’ve lost weight because I regret not having recruited you sooner.”
Recruited? Ever quick to seize his chance, Lü Bu adopted his most obsequious tone, “It is said that I have always been your Eminence’s main worry. Now that I’m willing to serve under you, there is nothing to worry about anymore. With me serving at the head of your troops, you’ll be able to pacify the world!”
To this Cao Cao could only tug his beard. Lü Bu was bred for war while Cao Cao, a statesman, poet, and scholar, was growing weary of it. He had found himself in great danger several times during the wars, surviving only by chance or a case of mistaken identity. It did not match the legacy he saw for himself which involved far more than vanquishing armies. He had taken the reins of a shattered empire by conquest because he knew it was his life’s work to restore it. This great yet fragile world could not suffer Cao Cao dying on some battlefield—why not let Lü Bu take his place?
In the ensuing silence, Lü Bu’s heart lifted. Relaxing his warrior’s gaze and taking in the periphery, he saw sitting behind his captor a remarkably long pair of earlobes. It was his old friend, “little brother” Liu Bei, whom he had once rescued from certain death. He was saved!
Seeing Lü Bu shift focus, Cao Cao also turned.
And history would be decided once again by a poor boy from the north.
Lü Bu had reason to be hopeful. Years earlier, after losing a major battle to Cao Cao, he had found himself staying with Liu Bei, the governor of Xu Province. Lü Bu had called him his “little brother” from their first meeting. They were both northerners, and little Liu being a sandal-maker before the chaos began, seemed like even more of a bumpkin than Lü Bu. But when Liu Bei marched off to fight the warlord Yuan Shu, he left his city in such disarray that Lü Bu had to take over at the urging of Liu’s subordinates. Liu Bei was so thoroughly trounced by Yuan Shu’s forces that he and his men were forced to resort to cannibalism just to survive. So when poor Liu, the weakling whose limited fighting abilities and quiet demeanor made him a poor leader of men, came crawling back to Lü Bu it was only natural for the greatest warrior of all China to take the role of alpha.
When Yuan Shu’s general Ji Ling arrived to finish Liu Bei off, he was astonished to find Lü Bu between them. Though his force of 1000 infantry and 200 horsemen were a paltry number compared to the 30,000 that stood at Ji Ling’s back, everyone knew that Lü Bu’s presence on the battlefield counted for much more. Lü Bu was the cavalry. What followed is one of the most epic moments of the Three Kingdoms period.
As Ji Ling sweated in his tent wondering what to do, a messenger arrived inviting him to dine with Lü Bu and Liu Bei. During the meal, Lü Bu told Ji Ling, “Liu Bei is my brother. As you and your generals are now surrounding him, I have no choice but to save him. However, my personality is such that I do not like to involve myself in a fight. On the contrary, I always enjoy taking the role of a mediator to stop one.”
Lü Bu then ordered an attendant to erect a halberd all the way at the other end of the tent by his camp’s entrance. “Generals,” he said, “if I hit the head of that halberd, you shall withdraw your troops. If I miss, you can remain here and fight.” Words still ringing in the air, Lü Bu lifted his bow and fired.
The arrow hit the target squarely.
For several moments all were too shocked to speak. Finally, an officer said, “General Lü Bu indeed possesses heavenly prowess!” The feast lasted until the next day, after which both sides withdrew their troops.
Unfortunately for Lü Bu, his memory was often selective. Mostly spinning his actions in as favorable a light as possible for himself. Thus he frequently misjudged how people would react. Case in point: when he saved Liu Bei from battle, none believed he was the principled mediator he declared himself to be. Only days before he had turned up with his troops, Lü Bu had told his own men that he intended to save Liu Bei for purely selfish reasons:
If Yuan Shu defeats Liu Bei, he can contact the generals in the north around Mount Tai and I will be surrounded. Hence, to avoid that, I have to save Liu Bei.
Sure, Liu seemed to return Lü Bu’s brotherly affection. But what Lü Bu didn’t realize was that when you have a reputation for being a psychopath, people generally don’t show you how they really feel. By this point, public order had so deteriorated that war was a common occurrence and chaos reigned. When institutions don’t count for much anymore, a person’s word is all anyone has to go by. While Lü Bu still had some moves to make, he was already learning that for a person who doesn’t keep their word, it is much more difficult to secure the word of others.
Meanwhile, Cao Cao had the opposite problem: his ruthless adherence to a vow of vengeance terrified his subordinates. In one of those Tao-affirming cases of cosmic irony, Lü Bu’s ultimate nemesis was also his opposite. Where a young Lü Bu had distinguished himself through martial prowess, a renowned fortune teller had told young Cao Cao, “You would be a capable minister in peaceful times and an unscrupulous hero in chaotic times.” Where Cao Cao’s father was the foster son of a eunuch, Lü Bu had been the foster son of Dong Zhuo, the killer of eunuchs. Where Cao Cao’s quest to avenge his father almost cost him everything, Lü Bu killed his father to gain it.
But Lü Bu’s opposite was no saint. Sensing imminent societal collapse, Cao Cao’s father announced his retirement from court life and set off for home. He never arrived. Accounts vary, but what is known is that Cao’s father likely traveled with a retinue bearing many precious goods acquired during his years at the capital. The surviving servants who reached Cao Cao told him that his father had been cut down by ex-bandits who now worked for the Inspector of Xu Province. Inconsolable in his rage, Cao Cao marched most of his army to exact vengeance on its populace, leaving his home province virtually unprotected. Reports of his atrocities made everyone uneasy. Cao Cao had gone mad, massacring every single man, woman, and child in every city they captured. While he was away, the man he left in charge, Chen Gong, secretly messaged Lü Bu and let him know that the province was his for the taking.
Lü Bu did just that, arriving with a force large enough to scare most of Cao Cao’s commanders into surrendering without resistance. It also scared some sense back into Cao Cao. As much as Cao might have wanted to put every last head in Xu Province on the altar of his father, he had read the Art of War and knew that strategy came first. Pausing his campaign of vengeance, Cao Cao came rushing back to fight Lü Bu. Their forces clashed at Puyang, where Cao Cao laid siege to his own capital. After numerous sorties and setbacks during which Cao Cao was nearly killed, some of Lü Bu’s defectors switched back to Cao Cao’s side and threw open the gates. Lü Bu definitely had the fiercer troops, many of whom no doubt feared Cao Cao’s reprisal more than death. But Cao Cao made up the difference in cleverness. At one point, Cao Cao’s forces were beaten back from the gate and the warlord himself was captured, but because his captors didn’t recognize him, he claimed that the real Cao Cao would be riding a yellow horse just as one galloped past. When his captors gave chase, Cao fled.
After 100 days of siege, there was nothing left for Lü Bu’s forces to eat in Puyang, and he was forced to relocate. Meanwhile, Cao Cao recaptured much of his province over the course of two years. Then Lü Bu and Cao Cao’s defectors caught wind that the warlord would be alone in his base with less than 1,000 men while the main force was out harvesting grain (unlike most warlords, Cao Cao saw the value of soldiers trained to grow their own food).
The great Lü Bu rode at the head of his forces out of Puyang city to the edge of Cao Cao’s camp. There he could see the women and non-combatants atop the walls of his fort, but the harvesters were nowhere to be found.
It seemed like too perfect a setup.
Everything checked out, except Cao Cao’s army was unaccounted for.
Could this be another clever trick? Lü Bu hesitated, then retreated.
The next day Lü Bu brought his troops to attack, only this time there really was a trap! Once Lü Bu’s forces were committed to taking the fort, a great roar went up from a nearby dyke out of which rushed the bulk of Cao Cao’s forces.
Taken by surprise, Lü Bu’s army suffered heavy casualties, and he once more fled for his life.
Upon regaining his senses, Lü Bu realized that Cao Cao’s fort really was undefended that first day. Unable to reach the fort, Cao had ordered his farmer-soldiers to hide in the woods.
Had Lü Bu not hesitated, victory would have been his.
After the loss, Lü Bu retreated to the site of Cao Cao’s many atrocities, Xu Province. It’s old Inspector having died and left everything to Liu Bei, this was where he Lü Bu first proclaimed him “little brother”. But while Liu was away, Yuan Shu wrote Lü Bu a letter which he delivered along with free grain for his troops. In exchange, he needed Lü Bu’s help. So Lü Bu rode up to Liu Bei’s city, which just so happened to be in disarray and in need of a ‘mediator’ like Lü Bu. When Liu Bei surrendered to Lü Bu before more of Yuan Shu’s supplies had arrived, Lü Bu spared Liu in part to spite him.
With Lü Bu successfully taking over Liu Bei’s governorship, the new alliance was ready to be sealed with a marriage. That year, Yuan Shu declared himself emperor. Ever obsessed with appearances, he mistook the trappings of power for power itself, and staked his claim on two factors that are of significance only to fantasy enthusiasts and superstitious folk. First, he had the Imperial Seal, which had disappeared with the fall of Chang’an, and second, he had an auspicious name. Now he proposed to make Lü Bu’s daughter his queen.
But by this point, something strange was happening to Lü Bu’s staff. Having for and against so many sides throughout his career, a good many of his adherents were defectors and traitors like him. Many joined Lü Bu to fight one warlord, only to have their new leader cozy up to the enemy and turn on an ally. Some had been given unappetizing choices: Refuse to serve Lü Bu and die, serve the indecisive Lü Bu and have your advice ignored like Cao Cao’s Chen Gong, or pretend to serve Lü Bu while awaiting your chance for revenge. The latter was the option that Chen Gui and his son, Chen Deng (no relation to Chen Gong) chose.
The two served Liu Bei and were mortal enemies of Yuan Shu, so when they learned that Lü Bu was betraying their old boss for an uneasy alliance with their worst enemy, they took the hand they were dealt and made a play for revenge.
First the elder Chen sowed seeds of doubt regarding the marriage. With a new coalition forming against Yuan Shu the pretender emperor, he played on Lü Bu’s unwillingness to risk anything unless he was sure to come out ahead. Chen urged him to make nice with Cao Cao. After their last encounter, Cao Cao had rescued the true emperor and was now his protector (and the one who really pulled the strings of government). Allying with the side of legitimacy was a much safer bet.
Then Lü Bu was reminded of the slights the “new emperor” had dealt him in the past. At the last moment, he called for one of his men. His daughter was too good for that scoundrel. There would be no marriage. For his refusal, the Cao Cao’s—er, the Imperial—court gave Lü Bu the fancy title, “General of the Left”. Overjoyed, Lü Bu sent Chen Deng to Cao Cao, laden with gifts and a request to be made the official governor of Xu Province.
Once there, Deng told Cao Cao that Lü Bu was a man of little wits, easily persuaded, and should be removed ASAP. Cao agreed, calling Lü Bu an overly ambitious wolf pup, and made Chen Deng his mole. Deng also got himself a promotion, his dad a nice salary bump, and absolutely nothing for Lü Bu. When he returned, Lü Bu threatened to kill him with his halberd, but the young man played it off. Cao Cao thinks you’re a hawk, he told the enraged commander, useful only if you’re kept hungry. Since that pretty much summed up Lü Bu’s behavior to a T, Lü Bu believed him and calmed down.
Soon after, the Chens got their war with Yuan Shu. Furious at Lü Bu for spurning his proposal, Yuan Shu corralled his allies and sent one of his generals to attack. At a loss for what to do, Lü Bu consulted the Chens, who helped the warrior turn Yuan Shu’s allies against him and win the day. Then Lü Bu took his newfound friends back into Yuan Shu’s territories and, indulging in his favorite pastime, plundered every place they could on their way to the pretender’s capital. After having their fill of sacking, they waited along a river for Yuan Shu’s reply. When his majesty’s personally-led-army of 5,000 came into sight, Lü Bu and his men laughed at the haughty aristocrat and went home.
Lü Bu had finally gotten one over on the pompous blueblood, but at what cost?
True, Lü Bu may have initially succeeded at playing one side off against the other and eking out gains. But mercenaries are often the first to be sacrificed in war. And like the boy who cried wolf, his allies were slower to aid him each time he fell into trouble. Because Lü Bu acted like he needed nobody, nobody dared need Lü Bu.
So while Liu Bei seemed to be on good terms with Lü Bu after losing his province to him, deep down Liu knew he could be betrayed at any minute. Lü Bu even joked to his “little brother” that his advisors saw in him a threat to be “taken care of”. In response, Liu Bei requested that he relocate to another city, then raised 10,000 troops as soon as he got there. The move shocked Lü Bu, who felt Liu’s actions confirmed his advisors’ suspicions. Launching a preemptive strike, he drove Liu into the arms of Cao Cao, who had the emperor give him a small army and returned him to his post.
In response, Lü Bu sidled back up to Yuan Shu and agreed to counter Cao Cao’s influence by kicking Liu Bei out. After Cao Cao’s top generals failed to rescue Liu Bei, he led his own expedition against the Lü Bu. Soon he was besieging Lü Bu again. This time, he sent a letter explaining in detail each of the options available to the wolf pup and Cao Cao would respond to each one. After reading the letter, Lü Bu decided to surrender. But since Cao Cao’s biggest betrayer, Chen Gong, was Lü Bu’s top advisor you can guess why he was talked out of it.
Next, Lü Bu tried asking Yuan Shu for help. Still smarting from being spurned, Yuan refused. Then after his men spoke up about strategic importance of aiding Lü Bu, he made a show of gathering forces. But none ultimately arrived. Desperate, Lü Bu tried to deliver his daughter to Yuan Shu personally, but was unable to break through enemy lines.
Instead of rescue, Lü Bu was greeted with the sight of Chen Deng’s forces arriving to assist Cao Cao. Taking Chen Deng’s younger brothers hostage, Lü Bu threatened to kill them if they didn’t make peace. Chen Deng responded by ignoring his demands and pressing his attacks on the city. In the confusion of battle, one of Lü Bu’s officers became convinced that Lü Bu was done for, so he secretly freed the hostages and led them back to Chen Deng’s side.
A better fighter than he was a tactician or strategist, Lü Bu wracked his brain for a plan but could think of none. He looked to his army for ideas but no longer trusted his men. The generals he did trust could feel Lü Bu’s despair and lost trust in themselves. As a result, they lost so many battles that none dared venture out of the city any longer. Cao Cao then directed his men to divert two nearby rivers and flooded the city.
With morale at an all-time low, Lü Bu’s subordinates turned on each other. When an officer forgot Lü Bu’s ban on alcohol and presented him with wine, Lü Bu accused him of plotting to get his commander drunk and murdering him. The officer left knowing then and there that the cause was doomed. Not long after, he and his associates jumped Chen Gong and another general, then led them and their troops to surrender to Cao Cao. With his best minds gone, Lü Bu looked out from atop the city’s highest tower. Seeing how vastly they were now outnumbered, Lü Bu surrendered.
Cao Cao’s eyes were now fixed on Liu Bei, the man over whom he and Lü Bu had fought.
The disintegration of the empire had led everyone to do horrendous things. Lü Bu, in breaking every single rule of personal conduct there was amongst gentlemen, was among the worst offenders. Then again, so was Cao Cao, the man who had obeyed his darkest desires in visiting hell upon innocents for no greater crime than living off the same dirt his father had bled into. But Liu Bei alone remained untarnished.
Men had always been drawn to him.
When he was young, two passing merchants had gifted him with the small fortune needed to build a following based solely on his appearance and personality. This was a man who led with the charisma of moral conviction.
How would Liu Bei judge Lü Bu?
When the moral man spoke, he did not complain of Lü Bu’s recent betrayals, nor did he mention the warrior’s viciousness or his impulsiveness or his inability to keep his word. Rather than judge Lü Bu by who he had to become to survive in these impossible times, Liu Bei looked to the man he was before everything unraveled.
“Surely your Eminence has not forgotten about what happened to Ding Yuan and Dong Zhuo?”
Lü Bu’s last words while being dragged away to his execution were deeply ironic. While intended for Liu Bei, Lü Bu could easily have spoken them to a mirror.
”You are the most untrustworthy person!”
Epilogue
There is an iconic duel that happens earlier in Lü Bu’s life during the coalition’s campaign against Dong Zhuo. At Hulao Pass, Liu Bei and his sworn brothers Zhang Fei and Guan Yu overwhelm Lü Bu after many rounds of heated fighting, ultimately forcing the world’s greatest warrior to withdraw.
While the duel never actually happened, its inclusion in countless legends, novels, comics, movies, and games reflects something we know to be true:
Regardless of how deadly a person’s abilities may be, he who fights only for himself cannot win against those who fight for each other.
In the end the Chinese Achilles would die not by the treachery of a poisoned arrow on the battlefield, but by the poison of innumerable treacherous acts perpetrated by the warrior himself.
Lü Bu’s failure to see long-term consequences was what made his life such a short one.