Liu Pei replied, “I am descended from Prince Ching. Since my first fight with the Yellow Turban rebels at Chochün I have been in some score of battles, wherein I gained some trifling merit. My reward was this office.” “You lie about your descent and your statement of services is false,” roared the inspector. “Now the Court has ordered the reduction of your sort of low class officials.” Yüan-tê muttered to himself and withdrew. On his return to the magistracy he took council with his secretaries. “This pompous attitude only means he wants a bribe,” said they. “I have never wronged the people to the value of a single stalk of stubble; 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. Yüan-tê time after time went to rebut this charge, but the doorkeepers drove him away and he could not enter. Now Chang Fei had been all day drowning his sorrow in wine and had drunk far too much. Calling for his horse he rode out past the lodging of the inspector, and at the gate saw a small crowd of white-haired men weeping bitterly. He asked why. They said, “The inspector has compelled the underlings to bear false witness against our magistrate, with the desire to injure the noble Liu. We came to beg mercy for him, but are not permitted to enter. Moreover, we have been beaten by the doorkeepers.” This provoked the irascible and half intoxicated man to fury. His eyes opened till 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 the inspector sitting on high with the official underlings in bonds at his feet. “Oppressor of the people, robber!” cried Fei, “do you know me?” But before he could reply Fei 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 Fei gave his victim a severe thrashing, only staying his hand when the switch was too short to strike with. Yüan-tê was sitting alone, communing with his sorrow, when he heard a shouting before his door. He asked what was the matter. They told him General Chang had bound somebody to a post and was thrashing him. Hastily going outside he saw who the unhappy victim was and asked the reason. “If we do not beat this sort of wretch to death what may we expect?” said Fei. “Noble Sir, save me,” cried the victim. Now Yüan-tê had always been kindly and gracious, wherefore he bade his brother release the officer and go his way. Then Kuan Yü came up saying, “Brother, after your magnificent services you only got this petty post and even here you have been insulted by this fellow. A thorn bush is no place for a phoenix. Let us slay this fellow, leave here and go home till we can evolve a bigger scheme.”