“This decree, written in blood drawn from my own veins, is confided to a noble who is to be most careful not to fail in executing his Emperor’s design. “Given in the era Established Tranquillity, fourth year and the third month of Spring.” So ran the decree and Tung Chʻêng read it with streaming eyes. There was no sleep for him that night. Early in the morning he returned to his library and re-read it. No plan suggested itself. He laid the decree down on the table and sought in the depths of his mind for some scheme to destroy Tsʻao Tsʻao, but could not decide upon any. And he fell asleep leaning over his table. It happened that a certain official, Wang Tzŭ-fu, with whom he was on terms of great intimacy, came to visit him and, as usual, walked into the house unannounced and went straight to the library. His host did not wake and Wang noticed, hardly hidden by his sleeve, the Emperor’s writing. Wondering what this might be he drew it out, read it and put it in his own sleeve. Then he called out loud, “Uncle Chʻêng, are you not well? Why are you asleep at this time of day?” Tung Chʻêng started up and at once missed the decree. He was aghast; he almost fell to the ground. “So you want to make away with Tsʻao Tsʻao? I shall have to tell him,” said Wang. “Then, brother, that is the end of the Hans,” said his host, with tears. “I was joking,” said Wang. “My forefathers also served the Hans and ate of their bounty. Am I devoid of loyalty? I would help you, brother, as far as lies in my power.” “It is well for the country that you think like this,” said Tung. “But we ought to have a more private place than this to talk over such plans and pledge ourselves to sacrifice all in the cause of Han.” Tung Chʻêng began to feel very satisfied. He produced a roll of white silk and wrote his own name at the top and signed it, and Wang followed suit. Then the visitor said, “General Wu Tzŭ-lan is one of my best friends, he ought to be allowed to come in.” Chʻêng replied, “Of all the officials of the Court Chʻung Chi and Wu Shih are my best friends. Certainly they would back me up.” So the discussion proceeded. Presently a servant announced no other than these very two men. “This is providential,” said Tung Chʻêng and he told his friend to hide behind a screen. The two guests were led into the library and after the exchange of the ordinary civilities and a cup of tea, Chʻung Chi referred to the incident at the hunt and the shooting of the stag. “Were you not angry at that?” said he. Tung Chʻêng answered, “Though we be angry, what can we do?” Wu Shih struck in, “I would slay this fellow, I swear, but I cannot get any one to back me up.” “Though one should perish for one’s country one should not mind,” said Chʻung Chi. At this moment Wang Tzŭ-fu appeared from behind the screen, saying, “You two want to kill Tsʻao! I shall have to let him know this. And Uncle Tung is my witness.”