“If it be the wine of longevity, you may share it too,” said Empress He.
Then Li Ru became brutally frank.
“You will not drink?” asked he.
He called the men with daggers and cords and bade the Emperor look at them.
“The cup, or these?” said he.
Then said Lady Tang, “Let the handmaiden drink in place of her lord. Spare the mother and her son, I pray.”
“And who may you be to die for a prince?” said Li Ru.
Then he presented the cup to the Empress once more and bade her drink.
She railed against her brother, the feckless He Jin, the author of all this trouble. She would not drink.
Next Li Ru approached the Emperor.
“Let me say farewell to my mother,” begged he, and he did so in these lines:
“The heaven and earth are changed; Alas! the sun and the moon leave their courses,
I, once the center of all eyes, am driven to the farthest confines.
Oppressed by an arrogant minister my life nears its end,
Everything fails me and vain are my falling tears.”
Lady Tang sang:
“Heaven is to be rent asunder, Earth to fall away;
I, handmaid of an Emperor, would grieve if I followed him not.
We have come to the parting of ways, the quick and the dead walk not together;
Alas! I am left alone with the grief in my heart.”
When they had sung these lines, they fell weeping into each others' arms.
“The Prime Minister is awaiting my report,” said Li Ru, “and you delay too long. Think you that there is any hope of succor?”
The Empress broke into another fit of railing, “The rebel forces us to death, mother and son, and Heaven has abandoned us. But you, the tool of his crime, will assuredly perish.”
Thereupon Li Ru grew more angry, laid hands on the Empress and threw her out of the window. Then he bade the soldiers strangle Lady Tang and forced the lad to swallow the wine of death.
Li Ru reported the achievement to his master who bade them bury the victims without the city. After this Dong Zhuo's behavior was more atrocious than before. He spent his nights in the Palace, defiled the imperial concubines there, and even slept on the Dragon Couch.
Once he led his soldiers out of the city to Yangcheng when the villagers, men and women, were assembled from all sides for the annual spring festival. His troops surrounded the place and plundered it. They took away booty by the cart load, and women prisoners and more than one thousand severed heads. The procession returned to Capital Luoyang and published a story that they had obtained a great victory over some rebels. They burned the heads beneath the walls, and the women and jewelry were shared out among the soldiers.
A general named Wu Fu was disgusted at this ferocity and sought a chance to slay Dong Zhuo. Wu Fu constantly wore a breastplate underneath his court dress and carried in conceal a sharp dagger. One day when Dong Zhuo came to court, Wu Fu met him on the steps and tried to stab him. But Dong Zhuo was a very powerful man and held Wu Fu off till Lu Bu came to his help. Lu Bu struck down the assailant.
“Who told you to rebel?” said Dong Zhuo.
Wu Fu glared at him and cried, “You are not my prince, I am not your minister: where is the rebellion? Your crimes fill the heavens, and every man would slay you. I am sorry I cannot tear you asunder with chariots to appease the wrath of the world!”
Dong Zhuo bade the guards take him out and hack him to pieces. Wu Fu only ceased railing as he ceased to live.
That loyal servant of the latter days of Han.
His valor was high as the Heavens, in all ages unequaled;
In the court itself would he slay the rebel, great is his fame!
Throughout all time will people call him a hero.
Thereafter Dong Zhuo always went well guarded. At Bohai, Yuan Shao heard of Dong Zhuo's misuse of power and sent a secret letter to Minister of the Interior Wang Yun:
“That rebel Dong Zhuo outrages Heaven and has deposed his ruler. Common people dare not speak of him; that is
understandable. Yet you suffer his aggressions as if you knew naught of them. How then are you a dutiful and loyal minister? I have assembled an army and desire to sweep clean the royal habitation, but I dare not lightly begin the task. If you are willing, then find an opportunity to plot against this man. If you would use force, I am at your command.”
The letter arrived but Wang Yun could see no chance to plot against Dong Zhuo. One day while among the throng in attendance, mostly people of long service, Wang Yun said to his colleagues, “This is my birthday, I pray you come to a little party in my humble cot this evening.”
“We certainly will,” they cried, “and wish you long life.”
That night the tables were spread in an inner room, and his friends gathered there. When the wine had made a few rounds, the host suddenly covered his face and began to weep.
The guests were aghast.
“Sir, on your birthday too, why do you weep?” said they.
“It is not my birthday,” replied Wang Yun. “But I wished to call you together and I feared lest Dong Zhuo should suspect, so I made that the excuse. This man insults the Emperor and does as he wishes so that the imperial prerogatives are in imminent peril. I think of the days when our illustrious founder destroyed the Qin, annihilated Chu, and obtained the empire. Who could have foreseen this day when that Dong Zhuo has subjugated all to his will? That is why I weep.”
Then they all wept with him.
Seated among the guests, however, was Cao Cao, who did not join in the weeping but clapped his hands and laughed aloud.
“If all the officers of the government weep till dawn, and from dawn weep till dark, will that slay Dong Zhuo?” said Cao Cao.
Wang Yun turned on him angrily.
“Your forbears ate the bounty of the Hans; do you feel no gratitude? You can laugh?”
“I laughed at the absurdity of an assembly like this being unable to compass the death of one man. Foolish and incapable as I am, I will cut off his head and hang it at the gate as an offering to the people.”
Wang Yun left his seat and went over to Cao Cao.
“These later days,” Cao Cao continued, “I have bowed my head to Dong Zhuo with the sole desire of finding a chance to destroy him. Now he begins to trust me and so I can approach him sometimes. You have a sword with seven precious jewels which I would borrow, and I will go into his palace and kill him. I care not if I die for it.”
“What good fortune for the world that this is so!” said Wang Yun.
With this Wang Yun himself poured out a goblet for Cao Cao who drained it and swore an oath. After this the treasured sword was brought out and given to Cao Cao who hid it under his dress. He finished his wine, took leave of the guests, and left the hall. Before long the others dispersed.
The next day Cao Cao, with this short sword girded on, came to the palace of the Prime Minister.
“Where is the Prime Minister?” asked he.
“In the small guest room,” replied the attendants.
So Cao Cao went in and found his host seated on a couch; Lu Bu was at his side.
“Why so late, Cao Cao?” said Dong Zhuo.
“My horse is out of condition and slow,” replied Cao Cao.
Dong Zhuo turned to his henchman Lu Bu.
“Some good horses have come in from the west. You go and pick out a good one as a present for him.”
And Lu Bu left.
“This traitor is doomed,” thought Cao Cao. He ought to have struck then, but Cao Cao knew Dong Zhuo was very powerful, and he was afraid to act; he wanted to make sure of his blow.