Now Xu Shu hurried toward Xuchang. When Cao Cao heard that Xu Shu had arrived, he ordered Xun Yu, Cheng Yu, and a group of advisers to go out and receive him. Xu Shu entered the Chancellor's residence and made his obeisance before Cao Cao.

Cao Cao said, “You are a brilliant man. Why have you stooped so far as to serve Liu Bei?”

Xu Shu said, “I fled as a child from hardship and drifted on the rivers and roads until I happened to arrive at Xinye, where I became close with Liu Bei, whose courtesy name was Xuande. My mother remained at home. She spared me concern and kindness, and I am full of shame and gratitude.”

Cao Cao said, “Now that you are here, you can tend to your mother morning and evening, and I, too, may hear your clear counsel.”

Xu Shu bowed his thanks and withdrew. He rushed in to see his mother and knelt, weeping, at her feet. She was taken aback.

“Why have you come here now?” she asked.

Xu Shu said, “Not long ago I served Yuzhou’s governor and became close to Liu Bei. A letter came from my mother, so I rode by night and came at once.”

His mother suddenly grew furious and struck the table.

“After wandering in shame for so many years, I thought your studies had gone forward, but they have gone backward even beyond where you started. You have read and should know that loyalty and filial duty are not always both possible. Do you not know that Cao Cao is a villain who betrays his ruler and defies the throne? Liu Bei’s benevolence is spread through the four seas, and he is also a scion of the Han house. You already chose your master. Yet you believed a single false letter and, without inquiry, abandoned light for darkness. You have won yourself a bad name. You are a fool indeed. What face can I have when I look at you? You have brought disgrace on your ancestors and live only between heaven and earth for that shame!”

She cursed him so hard that Xu Shu collapsed to the ground and dared not lift his head. His mother moved behind the screen and left.

After a while, a servant came out to report, “The old lady has hanged herself from a beam.” Xu Shu rushed in panic to rescue her, but her spirit had already departed.

Later, people composed a eulogy for Mother Xu:

Worthy Mother Xu, your fragrance endures through ten thousand generations.
Her virtue remained unbroken, and she was a blessing to the household.
She taught her son through many disciplines and bore hardship in her own life.
Her spirit was mountain-like, and her righteousness rose from the marrow.
She praised Lord Yuzhou and exposed Wei Wudi’s crimes.
She feared not the cauldrons nor the axes.
She feared only that her descendants would dishonor their forebears.
She laid herself upon the sword and joined the faithful dead; her resolve was fit to stand beside the mother who cut the loom.
She earned her name in life and found fitting rest in death.
Worthy Mother Xu, your fragrance endures through ten thousand generations.

When Xu Shu saw his mother dead, he wept so hard he collapsed, and only after a long while did he recover. Cao Cao sent gifts with condolences and himself came to offer rites. Xu Shu buried his mother’s bier south of Xuchang and kept mourning at her grave. He declined everything that Cao Cao gave him.

At that time, Cao Cao wished to discuss a southern campaign, and Xun Yu remonstrated: “The weather is too cold now to march troops. Let us wait until spring warms before launching a great advance.” Cao Cao took his advice. He then drew water from the Zhang River into a pool he called Xuanwu Pool, and within it trained the water forces in preparation for the southward expedition.

Liu Bei, who was preparing gifts, was ready to head for Longzhong to pay a visit to Zhuge Liang, when someone reported, “A gentleman is at the gate: hat high, official attire broad and handsome, and carriage of a truly extraordinary man. He has come to make inquiries.”

Liu Bei, whose courtesy name was Xuande, said, “Could this be Kongming?” and sent to meet him. He saw it was Sima Hui.

Liu Bei was delighted and invited him into the back hall and offered him a high seat. He bowed and asked, “These many days since I was separated from Heaven's face, my duties have been ceaseless and I missed my visit. To receive you now is a joy beyond words.”

Sima Hui said, “I heard that Xu Zizhi was here, so I came for a while.”

Liu Bei said, “Not long ago, because Cao Cao detained his mother, Master Xu had a messenger from his mother summon him to return to Xuchang.”

Sima Hui replied, “This is Cao Cao’s trick. I have long heard that Xu’s mother was the most virtuous. Even if she is in Cao Cao’s custody she would not write to summon her son. This letter must be false. If Master Xu leaves, he should not yet be gone if his mother is still alive. If he goes now, his mother will surely die.”

Liu Bei was startled and asked the reason. Sima Hui said, “Xu’s mother is of such high loyalty that she would rather die than look on her son in shame.”

Liu Bei said, “Before he leaves, he recommends this Zhuge Liang of Nanyang. What sort of man is he?”

Sima Hui laughed. “Master Xu, having wished to go, would go and be done with it. Why drag him out by force to cry out his heart and blood?”

Liu Bei asked, “Master, why do you say this?”

Sima Hui said, “Kongming is close with four men: Cui Zhou-ping of Bo-Ling, Shi Guangyuan of Yingchuan, Meng Gongwei of Rinan, and Xu Shu. All four pursued purity in conduct, but Kongming alone was known for great breadth of mind. He would sit with knees drawn up and sing long verses, then point to the four and say, ‘Each of you may rise to become an Inspector or a Commandery Administrator.’ When asked what ambition Kongming held, he only smiled and did not answer. He often compared himself with Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, and his talent could not be measured.”

Liu Bei said, “How can there be so much wisdom in Yingchuan?”

Sima Hui said, “In old times Yin Kui, master of celestial observation, said that where the stars gather in the Ying region, there will be many worthy men.”

Guan Yu, whose courtesy name was Yunchang, said at his side, “I have heard of Guan Zhong and Yue Yi: men of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States, their accomplishments covering the world. Is it not excessive for Kongming to compare himself to them?”

Sima Hui laughed. “By my view he should not be measured against these two. I would compare him with two others.”

Guan Yu asked, “Who are those two?”

Sima Hui said, “He may be compared with Jiang Ziya of Zhou and Zhang Zifang of early Han.”

Everyone was startled. Sima Hui rose from the steps and was about to depart. Liu Bei could not hold him. As he stepped out, he looked up to heaven and laughed aloud: “The Sleeping Dragon has found his lord but not his time. How regrettable!”

He then added, “He is indeed an upright recluse.”

The next day Liu Bei, together with Guan Yu and Zhang Fei—whose courtesy name was Yide—and his attendants, rode back to Longzhong. Nearing a hillside they saw several men carrying hoes across the fields and singing:

The dark sky spreads like a round parasol; the earth lies like a game board.
Men in the world split black and white, then trade honor and disgrace.
Those granted glory grow secure in themselves; those cast into disgrace are destined for drudgery.
In Nanyang there are hidden recluses who cannot rest in easy sleep.

When Liu Bei heard the song he pulled in his horse and asked the farmer who wrote it.

“It was made by Master Wolong,” the farmer answered.

Liu Bei asked, “Where does Master Wolong live?”

“The ridge to the south of here, one chain of high mounds—Wolong Slope. In the sparse woods by its front, in a thatched hut, that is where Master Zhuge lives in high repose,” the farmer replied.

Liu Bei thanked him and urged his horse on. In only a short distance he looked toward Wolong Slope and found the place unexpectedly serene and strange.

Later, a poem was composed to describe that place:

Twenty li west of Xiangyang town, a long ridge leans above flowing water.
The high ridge bends and presses the roots into the cloud-base; clear water babbles and chips at stone marrow.
Like a trapped dragon, the ground coils upon the rock; like a single phoenix it stands under the pine shade.
A reed gate hangs half-shut before a thatched hut where a high man does not rise or stir.
Tall bamboos, interlaced, form green screens; every season wild flowers scent the fence.
Scrolls of yellow paper are stacked by the bed; no common scribes cross the seat.
A grey ape at the door sometimes brings fruit; an old crane at the gate listens to sutras at night.
In his robe pouch rests a famous zither and, on the wall, a jewel-bright sword reflects pine grain.
The recluse in the hut is serene and elegant; on idle days he ploughs and sows himself.
Waiting only for spring thunder to startle him awake, with one long cry he can calm all under heaven.

When Liu Bei reached the estate and dismounted, he knocked on the thatched gate. A boy came out.

“The Han Left General, Marquis of Yicheng District, Governor of Yu Province, and Imperial Uncle Liu Bei has come to pay his respects to Master Zhuge,” Liu Bei said.

The boy replied, “I do not remember many names.”

“Just say Liu Bei has come to visit,” Liu Bei said.

The boy said, “The master already left earlier.”

Liu Bei asked, “Where has he gone?”

“The sign is unclear; I know not where,” the boy said.

Liu Bei said, “When will he return?”

The boy replied, “No fixed time. It may be three or five days, or ten days.”

Liu Bei grew desolate.

Zhang Fei said, “If we are not to meet him, let us return.”

Liu Bei said, “Wait a little while.”

Guan Yu said, “Better go home and send another runner to ask.”

Liu Bei accepted his suggestion and told the boy, “If the master returns, tell him Liu Bei sought him.” Then he mounted and rode on. After a few li he reined back and studied the Longzhong scenery. The hills were low and graceful, the water shallow and clear, the land small and level, the woods not large but lush; crane and monkeys kept company, pine and bamboo gave green shade. He stood for a long while, spellbound.

Then he saw a man approach along a lonely mountain path, handsome and elegant, head wrapped in a hat of a wandering-knight, body in plain black cloth, cane in hand.

Liu Bei said, “This must be Master Wolong.” He dismounted quickly and moved forward to pay his respects.

“What if the master is not Wolong?” he asked.

The man asked, “Which general are you?”

“I am Liu Bei,” Liu Bei replied.

“I am not Kongming. I am Kongming’s friend, Cui Zhou-ping of Bo-Ling.”

Liu Bei said, “Your fame has long reached me. I am fortunate to meet you. Please sit wherever there is room and permit one question.”

The two sat on a stone in the woods, and Guan Yu and Zhang Fei stood at their sides. Cui Zhou-ping asked, “Why does General Liu seek Kongming?”

Liu Bei replied, “The realm is in tumult and all quarters are in disorder. I want to see Kongming to ask for ways to bring peace to the state and settle the nation.”

Cui Zhou-ping laughed. “You seek order and are moved by a compassionate heart, but peace and disorder have never come in fixed sequence. From the uprising of Gaozu ending Qin's tyranny, this age of violence entered order. In the reigns of Ai and Ping, after two hundred years of peace, Wang Mang usurped and turned order back into chaos. Guangwu restored the realm and rebuilt the foundation, and in that too, order came out of disorder. For two hundred years the people have now known peace, and so weapons rise again. This is precisely the moment when order turns to disorder; it cannot be corrected overnight. You want Kongming to turn Heaven and Earth and patch the cosmos—hardly easy, only a waste of effort. Do you not hear it said, ‘He who follows Heaven endures ease; he who resists Heaven labors’? ‘If the number is where it is, law and reason cannot wrest it away; if destiny is where it is, man cannot force it.’”

Liu Bei said, “What you have said is truly keen sight. But as a scion of Han, I ought to restore the Han house and have no place yielding to number and fate.”

Cui Zhou-ping said, “A hill-man has little to say on statecraft. I answered too freely only because you asked with sincerity.”

Liu Bei said, “Master, your instruction is generous, but I do not know where Kongming has gone.”

Cui Zhou-ping said, “I also want to visit him and do not know where he is.”

Liu Bei said, “Come with me to my humble county. Will you?”

Cui Zhou-ping said, “My nature is fond of idling and I have long had no desire for rank or fame. Let us meet another day.” He bowed deeply and departed. Liu Bei with Guan Yu and Zhang Fei remounted.

Zhang Fei said, “Wolong was not found again, yet we met this dry scholar and talked idle words too long.”

Liu Bei said, “Even a recluse’s words may hold weight.”

After three men had returned to Xinye and days passed, Liu Bei sent for news of Kongming. They returned with word: “Master Wolong has already gone back.”

Liu Bei immediately urged his horse onward.

Zhang Fei said, “Why should brother ride alone for what a village laborer cannot do? Send someone and have him fetched.”

Liu Bei snapped, “Did you not hear Mengzi say, ‘One who wishes to see a worthy man but does not use his way is like trying to invite him through a closed gate while the gate is shut?’ Kongming is the greatest worthy man of this age. How can he be summoned?”

So he remounted and went again to seek Kongming, with Guan Yu and Zhang Fei riding with him.

It was deep winter; the weather was severe, and red clouds were packed together. They had ridden many li when a piercing north wind came, and drifting snow began in fine abundance. Mountains looked like clusters of jade, and the woods like silver beds.

Zhang Fei said, “The cold has frozen earth and frost. Since we are not to be fighting now, is there benefit to seeking someone so useless? Better to return to Xinye and avoid this wind and snow.”

Liu Bei said, “My wish is to show Kongming how earnestly I seek him. If the younger brothers fear the cold, you may return.”

Zhang Fei said, “I do not fear death, only the cold. I fear only that brother wastes his mind and heart.”

Liu Bei said, “Speak no more; continue with me.”

As they neared the thatched hut, they suddenly heard someone singing in a tavern by the roadside. Liu Bei dismounted and listened. The song said:

The brave one’s fame and rank are not yet fulfilled, alas, a long while no spring has come.
Have you not seen the old recluse by the Eastern Sea who left behind the thorns of Jing and then went in the second chariot to join King Wen?
Eight hundred lords never set out to meet; white fish boarded boats and crossed Mengjin.
At Muye they fought and blood ran in rivers of the pestle, and heroes of soaring spirit crowned the military ranks.
Did you not see the tavern-bonded master from Gaoyang, rising from the fields at Mangdang and bowing to Lord Zhongshun?
His grand speech on kingly ambition astounded the ears.
Seventy-two to the east of Qicheng; none under heaven can trace his path.
Two men are no longer of emperor's realm, and who in all the world can yet recognize heroes?

Afterward someone struck a zhuo and sang another song:

My lord lifts the sword to clear the all-soaking sea, founding a great enterprise to last four hundred years.
In Huan-Ling’s later era, virtue has burned away; evil ministers and treacherous sons stir cauldrons and furnaces.
A green snake flies down beside the imperial seat; again a strange rainbow descends into the jade hall.
Bandits gather in every direction like ants; a hundred ferocious scoundrels rise like hawks.
We beat our chests and cry aloud, but our hands only clap empty air;
we drink village wine in a village tavern with no one to hear.
If one can keep one’s own path and be at peace all day, why seek a name undying through the ages?

After the songs, both men pounded their tables and laughed. Liu Bei said, “Could Wolong be among them?”

He dismounted and entered the tavern. He saw two men leaning on the table and drinking together. The one above had a white face and long beard; the one below had an odd and ancient air.

Liu Bei bowed and asked, “Who of you is Master Wolong?”

The long-bearded man asked, “Who are you, and what is your purpose in seeking Wolong?”

Liu Bei said, “I am Liu Bei. I seek the master to ask for ways to bring peace to the people and secure the state.”

The long-bearded man said, “We are not Wolong. We are friends of Wolong. I am Shi Guangyuan of Yingchuan, and this is Meng Gongwei of Rinan.”

Liu Bei was delighted. “I have long heard your names. To meet you by accident is a blessing. I have good horses with me. Will you come and speak with me at Wolong’s estate?”

Guangyuan said, “We are all rustic and idle men who do not attend to statecraft or governance. Do not trouble yourself with that. Great lord, you should mount again and search for Wolong yourself.”

Liu Bei took their leave, mounted, and rode back to Wolong Ridge. At the estate gate he dismounted and asked the boy, “Is the master at the house today?”

The boy replied, “He is reading upstairs now.”

Liu Bei rejoiced and followed the boy inside.

In the inner gate, over the lintel was a pair of lines in large characters:

To clear the mind, keep simplicity; in quietness, seek the far.

As Liu Bei was looking, he suddenly heard someone reciting. He stood at the side of the gate and peered in. On the upper floor of the cottage, a young man sat by the brazier with knees hugged, singing:

A phoenix ranges among a thousand heights, yet never perches without a paulownia.
A worthy man dwells in one place and serves none but his lord.
I joyfully till and plough the ridges and furrows; I cherish my cottage.
I set my proud ease in qin and books, waiting for the right time of heaven.

When the song ended, Liu Bei entered and paid obeisance.

“I have long admired the master and lacked the chance for a meeting. Because Xu Yuzhi spoke highly of him, I came in haste and had an empty return. I have braved wind and snow on this journey to see him; to catch even one glimpse is a great grace.”

The young man replied in alarm, “General, are you not Liu Yuzhou? Do you want to see your elder brother?”

Liu Bei was surprised. “Are you not Master Wolong?”

The youth replied, “I am Zhuge Jun, Wolong’s brother. Of our three brothers, the eldest is Zhuge Jin, now in the service of Sun Zhongmou as a retainer. Kongming is our second brother.”

Liu Bei asked, “Is Wolong in the house today?”

Zhuge Jun said, “Yesterday, by appointment with Cui Zhou-ping, he went out to wander.”

Liu Bei asked, “Where has he gone wandering?”

Zhuge Jun replied, “At times he rows a small boat on rivers and lakes, at times he visits hermit monks and Daoist recluses on mountain peaks, at times he seeks friends from village to village, at times he delights in qin and chess in cave chambers. His movements are impossible to chart.”

Liu Bei sighed, “My fate is poor. Twice I have come hoping for this worthy man and missed him both times.”

Zhuge Jun said, “Sit and take some tea.”

Zhang Fei said, “Since the master is not here, let brother return to his horse.”

Liu Bei said, “Now that I have come this far, how can I leave without a word?”

He asked Zhuge Jun, “I have heard Master Kongming deeply knows strategy and studies the arts of war daily. Can I not ask whether this is true?”

Zhuge Jun answered, “I do not know.”

Zhang Fei said, “You ask and ask, yet in such wind and snow, better to return early.”

Liu Bei stopped him. Zhuge Jun said, “As my elder brother is not here, he would not wish a long stay by horse and armor. If you wish, return another day to make your respects.”

Liu Bei said, “How could I ask a master to ride out here in vain?”

“Within a few days I will come again. Let me borrow paper and brush so I may leave a letter for your elder brother showing my earnest intention.”

Zhuge Jun brought the writing tools. Liu Bei unsealed his reed brush, spread the cloud-colored paper, and wrote:

I have long longed for your renown. Twice, in haste, I came to pay respect and returned empty-handed, my heart heavy. I dare reflect that I am a scion of the Han line and have unworthily taken high title and rank. I look on courtly change and upheaval: state structure collapsing, the order broken, lords contending and the state in chaos, wicked men deceiving the ruler. My heart and courage are torn. Though I possess sincerity to aid, I truly lack strategies of governance. I turn in hope for your compassion, loyalty, and righteousness. Open widely your brilliance like Luwang and display your vast design like Zifang. The realm will be fortunate; the ancestral altars and state will be fortunate. Before this, I have laid my purpose before you. When you are done with your rites and purified by fasting and bathing, do me this favor: grant me your respectful audience, and accept this humble sincerity, hoping for your full consideration.

When he finished writing, Liu Bei gave it to Zhuge Jun, who took it and placed it aside. Liu Bei bowed and withdrew. Zhuge Jun escorted him out, and Liu Bei repeatedly expressed his earnest respects before leaving. As he was mounting again, a child waved from outside the fence and shouted, “The old master comes!”

Liu Bei looked and saw, west of a small bridge, a man with a fur cap pulled over his head, fox-fur robe covering him, riding a donkey with a young blue-clad boy behind, and carrying a gourd flask of wine. They crossed the small bridge through snow while he was reciting:

In one night the north wind bites; ten thousand li of heavy red cloud.
The sky is filled with drifting snow, and old mountains and rivers are remade.
Looking up into the void above, it seems as if jade dragons are battling.
Fins and scale-like armor whirl in thousands, and in an instant fill the whole heaven and earth.
On the donkey he crossed the small bridge, alone lamenting the thin plum blossoms.

Liu Bei cried out, “This is truly Wolong!” He dismounted and rushed forward with reverence.

“Master, it is not easy to brave this cold. Liu Bei has waited for you long.”

The man quickly dismounted, removed his hat, and returned Liu Bei’s bow.

Zhuge Jun said behind him, “This is not Master Wolong but his father-in-law, Huang Chengyan.”

Liu Bei said, “The verse you just sang is exquisite indeed.”

Huang Chengyan said, “At my young son-in-law’s house I have seen the Liangfu Chant, and I remember this piece. I happened to cross the bridge and saw plum blossoms between the fence, and was moved to recite it. I did not expect to be heard by an honored guest.”

Liu Bei asked, “Have you seen my worthy son-in-law?”

Huang Chengyan said, “It is I, the old man, come to visit him.”

Liu Bei said farewell, remounted, and returned home. Wind and snow were heavy again.

Looking back toward Wolong Ridge, he remained heavy in heart.

Later, there was a poem describing Liu Bei’s wind-and-snow visit to Kongming:

In one full day of wind and snow I sought the worthy, and returned with no meeting but a heart full of sorrow.
Ice crusted the creek bridge, and slick mountain stones made the way treacherous; cold pierced horse and rider, and the road stretched long.
In front, petals of pear blossom fell in sheets, and wild willow fluff struck the face in frenzy.
When he looked back and checked his rein, all he could see at a distance was Wolong Ridge, a heap of shining silver.

After Liu Bei returned to Xinye, time passed and it was already early spring. He ordered diviners to cast stalks and choose an auspicious day. After three days of fasting, cleansing, and changing robes, he again headed for Wolong Ridge to visit Kongming. Guan Yu and Zhang Fei heard this and were displeased, and together entered to remonstrate before Liu Bei.

The lofty worthy will not easily bear the ambition of heroes;
when virtue is constrained, rare men become the objects of doubt.
What he would say remained unknown.

How this turned out will be told in the next chapter.