The volunteer team－led by Wu Liangliang, a security guard who has gained online fame for his fluent self-taught En
temper tantrums and his proclivity to tell everyone exactly what he thought, which often wasn’t very favorable.” But Hertzfeld was excited by him. “Are you any good?” Jobs asked the moment he walked in. “We only want really good people working on the Mac, and I’m not sure you’re good enough.” Hertzfeld knew how to answer. “I told him that yes, I thought that I was pretty good.”
“Who is that coming along？” called Cao Cao.
Lu Boshe turned and looked back, and Cao Cao at the same instant cut Lu Boshe down.
Chen Gong was frightened.
“We were wrong enough before,” cried Chen Gong. “What now is this？”
“When he got home and saw his family killed, think you he would bear it patiently？ If he had raised an alarm and followed us, we should have been killed.”
Chen Gong only thought. they rode on some distance by moonlight and presently knocked up an inn for shelter. Having first fed their horses, Cao Cao was soon asleep, but Chen Gong lay thinking.
Liu Bei replied, “I am descended from Prince Sheng of Zhongshan.
Since my first fight with the Yellow Scarves rebels at Zhuo County,
“I have never wronged the people to the value of a single coin: Then where is a bribe to come from?”
Next day the inspector had the minor officials before him and forced them to bear witness that their
master had oppressed the people. Liu Bei time after time went to rebut this charge,
but the doorkeepers drove him away and he could not enter.
Now Zhang Fei had been all day drowning his sorrow in wine and had drunk far too much. Calling for
This provoked the irascible and half intoxicated Zhang Fei to fury. His eyes opened
wide until they became circles; he ground his teeth; in a moment he was off his steed,
had forced his way past the scared doorkeepers into the building, and was in the rear apartments.
There he saw Imperial Inspector Du Biao sitting on high with the official underlings in bonds at his feet.
“Oppressor of the people, robber!” cried Zhang Fei. “Do you know me?”
But before the inspector could reply, Zhang Fei had had him by the hair and had
dragged him down. Another moment he was outside and firmly lashed to the
hitching post in front of the building. Then breaking off a switch from a willow tree,
Zhang Fei gave his victim a severe thrashing, only staying his hand when the tenth switch was too short to strike with.
Liu Bei was sitting alone, communing with his sorrow, when he heard a shouting before his door. He asked what the matter was.
They told him, “General Zhang Fei had bound somebody to a post and was thrashing him!”
A SONG OF A PAINTING TO GENERAL CAO
O General, descended from Wei’s Emperor Wu,
You are nobler now than when a noble….
Conquerors and their velour perish,
But masters of beauty live forever.
…With your brush-work learned from Lady Wei
And second only to Wang Xizhi’s,
Faithful to your art, you know no age,
Letting wealth and fame drift by like clouds.
…In the years of Kaiyuan you were much with the Emperor,
Accompanied him often to the Court of the South Wind.
When the spirit left great statesmen, on walls of the Hall of Fame
The point of your brush preserved their living faces.
You crowned all the premiers with coronets of office;
You fitted all commanders with arrows at their girdles;
You made the founders of this dynasty, with every hair alive,
Seem to be just back from the fierceness of a battle.
…The late Emperor had a horse, known as Jade Flower,
Whom artists had copied in various poses.
They led him one day to the red marble stairs
With his eyes toward the palace in the deepening air.
Then, General, commanded to proceed with your work,
You centred all your being on a piece of silk.
And later, when your dragon-horse, born of the sky,
Had banished earthly horses for ten thousand generations,
There was one Jade Flower standing on the dais
And another by the steps, and they marvelled at each other….
The Emperor rewarded you with smiles and with gifts,
While officers and men of the stud hung about and stared.
…Han Gan, your follower, has likewise grown proficient
At representing horses in all their attitudes;
But picturing the flesh, he fails to draw the bone-
So that even the finest are deprived of their spirit.
You, beyond the mere skill, used your art divinely-
And expressed, not only horses, but the life of a good man….
Yet here you are, wandering in a world of disorder
And sketching from time to time some petty passerby