Then Sun Quan bade Zhou Tai open his dress and exhibit his wounds for all the assembly to see. The skin was gashed all over as if his body had been scored with a knife. Sun Quan pointed to the wounds one after another and asked how each one had been received. And, as Zhou Tai told him, for every wound Sun Quan made him drink off a goblet of wine till he became thoroughly intoxicated. Sun Quan then presented him with a black silk parasol and bade him use it on all occasions as a sign of the glory that was his.
But Sun Quan found his opponents too stable; at the end of a month the two armies were both at Ruxu and neither had won a victory.
Then said Zhang Zhao and Gu Yong, “Cao Cao is too strong, and we cannot overcome him by mere force. If the struggle continues longer, you will only lose more soldiers. You would better seek to make peace.”
Sun Quan followed this advice and dispatched Bu Zhi on a peace mission to Cao Cao's camp. Sun Quan offered a yearly tribute. Cao Cao also saw that the South Land was too strong to be overcome, and consented.
Cao Cao insisted, “The Marquis should first send away his army, and then I would retire.”
Bu Zhi returned with this message, and Sun Quan sent away the greater part, leaving only Zhou Tai and Jiang Qin to hold Ruxu. The army returned to Capital Moling.
Cao Cao left Cao Ren and Zhang Liao in charge of Hefei, and he marched the army back to Capital Xuchang.
On arrival, all Cao Cao's officers, military and civil, persuaded him to become Prince of Wei. Only the Chair of the Secretariat, Cui Yan, spoke strongly against the scheme.
“You are, then, the only man who knows not the fate of Xun Yu,” said his colleagues.
“Such times! Such deeds!” cried Cui Yan. “You are guilty of rebellion, but you may commit it yourselves. I will bear no part in it.”
Certain enemies told Cao Cao, and Cui Yan was thrown into prison. At his trial he glared like a tiger, and his very beard curled with contempt; he raged and cursed at Cao Cao for a betrayer of his prince, and a rebel. The interrogating magistrate reported his conduct to Cao Cao, who ordered Cui Yan to be beaten to death in prison.
Cui Yan of Qinghe-Greenriver,
Firm and unyielding was he,
With beard crisp curling and gleaming eyes,
Which showed the man of stone and iron within.
He drove the evil from his presence,
And his glory is fair and high.
For loyalty to his lord of Han,
His fame shall increase as the ages roll.
In the twenty-first year of Rebuilt Tranquillity (216), in the fifth month of that year, a great memorial signed by many officers went up to Emperor Xian, praying:
“The Duke of Wei has rendered so great services that no minister before him, in Heaven as well as on Earth, not
even Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou, could match his manifest merits to the state. Thus, the title of kingship should be granted to him.”
The memorial was approved, and a draft edict was prepared by the famous Zhong Yao to make Cao Cao Prince of Wei. Thrice Cao Cao with seeming modesty pretended to decline the honor, but thrice was his refusal rejected. Finally he made his obeisance and was enrolled as Prince of Wei with the usual insignia and privileges, a coronet with twelve strings of beads and a chariot with gilt shafts, drawn by six steeds. Using the formalities of the Son of God, he decorated his imperial chariot with bells and had the roads cleared when he passed along. He built himself a palace at Yejun.
Then he began to discuss the appointment of an heir-apparent. His principal wife, Lady Ding, was without issue; but a concubine, Lady Liu, had borne him a son, Cao Ang, who had been killed in battle at the siege of Wancheng when Cao Cao fought against Zhang Xiu. A second concubine, Lady Bian, had borne him four sons: Cao Pi, Cao Zhang, Cao Zhi, and Cao Xiong. Wherefore he elevated Lady Bian to the rank of Queen of Wei in place of Lady Ding.
The third son, Cao Zhi, was very clever and a ready master of composition. Cao Cao wished him to be named the heir.
Then the eldest son, Cao Pi sought from the High Adviser Jia Xu a plan to secure his rights of primogeniture, and Jia Xu told him to do so and so. Thereafter, whenever the father went out on any military expedition, Cao Zhi wrote fulsome panegyrics, but Cao Pi wept so copiously at bidding his father farewell that the courtiers were deeply affected and remarked that though Cao Zhi was crafty and clever, he was not so sincerely filial as Cao Pi. Cao Pi also bought over his father's immediate attendants, who then rang the praises of his virtues so loud that Cao Cao was strongly disposed to name him as the heir after all.
After hesitating a long time, the matter was referred to Jia Xu.
“I wish to name my heir; who shall it be?” said Cao Cao.
Jia Xu would not say, and Cao Cao asked why.
“I was just recalling the past in my mind and could not reply at once,” said Jia Xu.
“What were you recalling?”
“I was thinking of two fathers, Yuan Shao and Liu Biao, and their sons.”
Cao Cao smiled. Soon after this he declared his eldest son his heir.
In the winter of that year, in the tenth month, the building of the palace of the new Prince of Wei was completed and the furnishing begun. From all parts were collected rare flowers and uncommon trees to beautify the gardens. One agent went into the South Land and saw Sun Quan, to whom he presented a letter from Cao Cao asking that he might be allowed to proceed to Wenzhou to get some oranges. At that period Sun Quan was in a most complaisant mood toward Cao Cao, so from the orange trees in his own city, he picked forty loads of very fine fruits and sent them immediately to Yejun.
On the way, the bearers of the oranges fell tired, and they had to stop at the foot of a certain hill. There came along an elderly man, blind of one eye and lame of one leg, who wore a white rattan head-dress and a black loose robe. He saluted the bearers and stayed to talk.
Presently he said, “Your burdens are heavy, O porters; may this old Taoist lend you a shoulder? What do you say?”
Naturally they were pleased enough, and the amiable wayfarer bore each load for two miles. When they resumed their burdens, they noticed that the loads seemed lighter than before, and they felt rather suspicious.
When the Taoist was taking his leave of the officer in charge of the party, he said, “I am an old friend from the same village as the Prince of Wei. My name is Zuo Ci. Among Taoists I bear the appellation of 'Black-Horn'. When you get to the end of your journey, you may say that I was inquiring after your lord.”
Zuo Ci shook down his sleeves and left. In due course the orange bearers reached the new palace, and the oranges were presented. But when Cao Cao cut one open, it was but an empty shell of a thing; there was no pulp beneath the rind. Cao Cao was rather puzzled and called in the porters, who told him of their falling in with the mysterious Taoist on the way. But Cao Cao scouted the idea of that being the reason.
But just then the warden of the gate sent to say that a certain Taoist named Zuo Ci was at the gate and wished to see the king.
“Send him in,” said Cao Cao.
“He is the man we met on the way,” said the porters when he appeared.
Cao Cao said curtly, “What sorcery have you been exercising on my beautiful fruit?”
“How could such a thing happen?” said the Taoist.
Thereupon he cut open an orange and showed it full of pulp, most delicious to the taste. But when Cao Cao cut open another, that again was empty, nothing but rind.