At the capital the Minister assigned a dignified residence to Kuan Yü, which he immediately divided into two enclosures, the inner one for the two ladies and the other for himself. He placed a guard of eighteen of his veterans over the women’s quarters. Kuan Yü was presented to the Emperor Hsien who conferred upon him the rank of General. Soon after Tsʻao made a great banquet, inviting all his advisers and fighting men, solely in honour of Kuan Yü, who sat in the seat of honour. Beside this he received presents of silks and gold and silver vessels, all of which were sent into the ladies’ quarters for their use and keeping. In fact from the day of arrival in the capital Kuan Yü was treated with marked respect and distinction, banquets and feasts following each other in quick succession. Tsʻao Tsʻao also presented him with ten most lovely serving girls; these also were sent within to wait upon his two sisters-in-law. Every third day Kuan Yü went to the door of the women’s quarters to enquire after their welfare, and then they asked if any news of the wanderer had come. This ceremony closed with the words “Brother-in-law, you may retire when you wish.” Tsʻao heard of this extremely correct behaviour and thought all the more of the man for it. One day Tsʻao noticed that the robe Kuan Yü was wearing was old and frayed. Taking his measurements Tsʻao had a new one made of fine brocade and presented it to him. He took it and put it on under the old robe, so that the latter covered it. “Why so very thrifty?” laughed Tsʻao. “It is not thrift,” was his reply. “The old robe was a gift from my brother and I wear it because it reminds me of him. I could not allow the new gift to eclipse his old one.” “How very high principled!” said Tsʻao Tsʻao sighing. But he was not pleased with the man for all that he praised his conduct. One day when Kuan Yü was at home there came a messenger to say that the two women had thrown themselves on the ground and were weeping. They would not say why. Kuan Yü set his dress in order, went over and knelt by the door saying, “Why this grief, sisters-in-law?” Kan Fu-jên replied, “In the night I dreamed that the Uncle had fallen into a pit. I woke up and told Mi Fu-jên and we think he must be dead. So we weep.” “Dreams are not to be credited,” he replied. “You dreamed of him because you were thinking of him. Pray do not grieve.” Just then Kuan Yü was invited to another banquet so he took leave of the ladies and went. Seeing Kuan looked sad and tearful his host asked the reason. “My sisters-in-law have been weeping for my brother and I cannot help being sad in sympathy.” Tsʻao smiled and tried to cheer up his guest. He plied him with wine so that he became quite intoxicated and sat stroking his beard and saying, “What a useless thing am I! I could do no service for my country and I have parted from my elder brother.” “How many hairs in your beard?” suddenly asked his host.