Kuan Yü withdrew feeling that he must evolve some scheme of departure without further loss of time. It caused him much uneasiness. Yü Chin, having found out that Liu Pei was in the north, told Tsʻao Tsʻao, who at once sent Chang Liao to find out Kuan Yü’s intentions. Chang Liao entered jauntily and congratulated Kuan, saying, “They tell me you obtained news of your brother in the battlefield; I felicitate you.” “My lord was there indeed but I met him not. I see nothing to be glad about.” “Is there any difference between the relationship of you two and that of any other two brothers?” Kuan replied, “You and I stand in the relationship of friends: Yüan-tê and I are friends and brothers beside, and prince and minister in addition to both. Our relationship cannot be discussed in usual terms.” “Well, now that you know where your brother is, are you going to him?” “How can I go back on what I said before? I am sure you will explain fully to the Minister.” Chang Liao went back and told his master who said, “I must find a way to keep him here.” While Kuan Yü was pondering over his difficulties they told him that a friend had come to enquire for him. The visitor was introduced but Kuan did not recognise him. “Who are you?” asked Kuan. “I am Chʻên Chên of Nanyang, in the service of Yüan Shao.” In great perturbation Kuan Yü sent away the attendants and, they being gone, said, “There is some special reason for your visit.” For reply the newcomer drew out a letter and handed it to his host, who recognised that it was from his brother Yüan-tê. “I, the writer, and you, Sir, pledged ourselves in the Peach Garden to die together. Why then are we apart and yet alive, our kindly feelings destroyed, our sense of right outraged? Surely you desire to obtain fame and acquire riches and honour by offering my head as a crowning act of merit. More might be said but I await your commands with great anxiety.” Kuan Yü finished the letter with a bitter cry. “I always wanted to find my brother, but I did not know where he was. How can he think such evil of me?” said he. “Yüan-tê looks for you very eagerly, and if you are still bound by the old pledge you should go quickly,” said the messenger. “Any one born into the world without the one essential virtue of sincerity is no true man. I came here openly and can go in no other way. Now will I write a letter which I will ask you to bear to my brother, that as soon as I can take leave of Tsʻao Tsʻao I will bring the ladies and come to him.” “But what if Tsʻao Tsʻao refuse to let you go?” said Chʻên Chên. “Then would I rather die; I will not remain here.” “Then, Sir, quickly write your letter and relieve your brother from his anxiety.”