Walk through famous mausoleums

Author: Ma Li
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: In traditional opera and novels, Lu Su of the Three Kingdoms era was merely a kind and benevolent elder. However, in history, Lu Su was a general described as "possessing youthful vigor and fond of ingenious strategies" and "thinking deeply with exceptional wisdom." No wonder Zhou Yu, before his death, wrote a letter to Sun Quan, saying, "Lu Su is loyal and righteous, and can take my place in times of crisis." Lu Su indeed became the Commandant of Martial Valor and rushed to the area around Yueyang to take command of the naval forces. He built a strong fortress at the strategic point where the Dongting River meets the Yangtze and constructed a reviewing pavilion facing the water, for the training and inspection of the naval forces. This pavilion was the precursor to the Yueyang Tower. Imagine Lu Su standing atop the tower, commanding the naval drills, with warships stretching for miles and battle sails like clouds—what a majestic and formidable presence! Some also said he "never put down his books even in the midst of battle," yet he exuded an air of scholarly elegance! During his tenure, Lu Su consistently upheld the alliance between Sun Quan and Liu Bei formed after the Battle of Red Cliffs, preventing Cao Cao from daringly advancing south. Lu Su served faithfully until his death at the age of forty-six, and it is said that there was once a temple dedicated to General Lu in Yueyang City, though today only his tomb remains. The Lu Su Tomb is located east of the Yueyang Tower, and I came upon it as dusk fell. The surroundings were tranquil, evoking a sudden sense of desolation. The tomb mound is covered in and surrounded by a stone railing. A hexagonal pavilion sits atop the tomb, its upturned eaves piercing the twilight sky and casting the pavilion's shadow into a solitary, blood-red hue. The stone archway in front of the tomb, though weathered by time, still bears legible inscriptions: "To uphold the emperor, expose Cao Cao's treachery—this was seen in Xun Or," and "To serve Wu and uphold Han—this heart is in harmony with that of Wu Hou." I recalled the many figures of the Three Kingdoms era and the numerous historical sites scattered across Hunan, Hubei, Sichuan, and Henan. These legendary figures performed countless dramatic historical plays on the vast land of China, leaving behind a wealth of cultural landmarks along the Yangtze River, enriching the splendid Yangtze culture. Climbing the ancient steps to the pavilion atop the tomb, the red paint on the pillars had peeled away, leaving behind mottled, scales-like patterns. Occasionally, a gentle breeze rustled the Zelkova and camphor trees around the tomb, their leaves whispering like soft sighs. Beyond, the Dongting Lake stretched endlessly, as if flowing in from the distant horizon, with the misty green silhouette of Junshan Island faintly visible. Could the Song Dynasty poet Huang Tingjian, who wrote the line, "Before reaching Jiangnan, I smile first—standing on Yueyang Tower, facing Junshan," have come to this perpetually melancholic Lu Su Tomb to pay his respects? Or could Yuan Mei, the Qing Dynasty poet who sang, "Let Junshan's clouds stand tall beyond the horizon, as if riding the wind to seek the Peony Palace," have come to honor the spirit of Lu Su? It is also a thought-provoking matter that a stone tablet stands in the pavilion, its inscription deeply somber: "Sixteen hundred and ninety-eight years after the birth of our era, in the twenty-second year of the Jian'an era of the Han Dynasty, General Lu Su of the Eastern Wu naval forces passed away here. The people of Balinng mourned his virtue and buried him here. When I passed by his tomb in Yueyang, I imagined his character and lingered, unable to leave. The old tomb had a pavilion, but it was too desecrated to be used. I repaired it and inscribed an epitaph: 'He lived here, died here, and was buried here. Alas, he is worthy of eternal remembrance!' This epitaph was written by Cao Kun, the Beiyang warlord who governed Yueyang in 1915. It evokes yet another wave of reflections, and suddenly, I recalled the Qing Dynasty poet Gu Ziguang's "Golden Thread Song": 'This river has just changed its course, yet the poet's verses remain! Eulogizing the past, both ancient and modern, is never enough.'" All these were figures of the past.