One day the Emperor was riding near Hsütʻien and noticed his newly found uncle respectfully standing by the roadside. “I should like to see my uncle display his hunting skill,” said the Emperor. Liu Pei mounted his steed at once. Just then a hare started from its form; Yüan-tê shot and hit it with the first arrow. The Emperor, much struck by this display, rode away over a slope. Suddenly a deer broke out of the thicket. He shot three arrows at it but all missed. “You try,” said the Emperor turning to Tsʻao. “Lend me Your Majesty’s bow,” he replied, and taking the inlaid bow and the golden-barbed arrows he pulled the bow and hit the deer in the shoulder at the first shot. It fell in the grass and could not run. Now the crowd of officers seeing the golden-barbed arrow sticking in the wound concluded at once that the shot was the Emperor’s, so they rushed up and shouted “Wansui! O King, live for ever!” Tsʻao Tsʻao rode out pushing past the Emperor and acknowledged the congratulations. They all turned pale. What did this mean? Liu Pei’s brother Kuan who was behind him was especially angry. The sleeping caterpillar eyebrows stood up fiercely and the red phoenix eyes glared as, sword in hand, he rode hastily forth to cut down the audacious Minister for his impertinence. However, his elder brother hastily waved him back and shot at him a meaning glance so that he stopped and made no further move. Yüan-tê bowing toward Tsʻao said, “Most sincere felicitations! A truly supernatural shot, such as few have achieved!” “It is only the enormous good fortune of the Son of Heaven!” said Tsʻao with a smile. Then he turned his steed and felicitated the Emperor. But he did not return the bow; he hung it over his own shoulder instead. The hunt finished with banqueting and when the entertainments were over they returned to the capital, all glad of some repose after the expedition. Kuan Yü was still full of the Minister’s breach of decorum. One day he said, “Brother, why did you prevent me from killing that rebel and so ridding the world of a scoundrel? He insults the Emperor and ignores everybody else.” “When you throw stones at a rat, beware of the vase,” quoted Yüan-tê. “Tsʻao Tsʻao was only a horse’s head away from Our Lord and in the midst of a crowd of his partizans. In that momentary burst of anger, if you had struck and failed, and harm had come to the Emperor, what an awful crime would have been laid to us!” “If we do not rid the world of him to-day, a worse evil will come of it,” said Kuan. “But be discreet, my brother. Such matters cannot be lightly discussed.” The Emperor sadly returned to his palace. With tears in his eyes he related what had occurred in the hunt to his consort the Empress Fu.