Before You Say It

When you are trying to impress people with words, the more you say, the more common you appear and the less in control.

— Robert Greene

Cao Cao once asked Jia Xu which of his sons should succeed him.

Jia Xu was silent for a moment.

Then he said, “I was thinking of Yuan Shao and Liu Biao — and their sons.”

Years before Cao Cao asked that question, another man who had served him had spoken very differently.

His name was Xu You.

Xu You and Cao Cao were old friends. They had known each other when they were young, before their paths separated. Xu You entered the service of Yuan Shao, one of the most powerful warlords in northern China. Cao Cao raised an army of his own.

In the year 200, Yuan Shao marched south with a far larger force. Cao Cao stopped him at Guandu.

The two armies faced each other for months. Yuan Shao had men and supplies. Cao Cao was running out of grain.

Then Xu You left Yuan Shao and came over to Cao Cao.

When Cao Cao heard that his old friend had arrived, he rushed out barefoot to meet him.

“Ziyuan,” he said, using Xu You’s courtesy name. “With you here, my cause is as good as won.”

Once they sat down, Xu You asked:

“How much grain do you have left?”

“A year.”

Xu You did not believe him.

“Six months.”

Xu You still did not believe him.

Finally Cao Cao told the truth.

“One month. What should I do?”

Xu You knew where Yuan Shao kept his grain: Wuchao. The stores were immense, he said, and lightly guarded. Strike suddenly, burn the grain, and an army that large would begin to unravel on its own.

That night, Cao Cao went to Wuchao.

The grain burned. Yuan Shao’s army fell into confusion.

Cao Cao won at Guandu.

A few years later, Yuan Shao was dead. His sons began fighting over the territory he had left behind. Cao Cao moved north through the divisions inside the Yuan family, took the city of Ye, and secured Ji Province.

Xu You remained at his side.

He still behaved like the old friend he had once been. At banquets, he would even address Cao Cao by an old childhood name.

One day, in front of other people, he said:

“Without me, you would never have taken Ji Province.”

Cao Cao smiled.

“You are right.”

Later, outside the eastern gate of Ye, Xu You turned to the people around him and said:

“Without me, the Cao family would never even have made it through these gates.”

Someone repeated the remark to Cao Cao.

Xu You was arrested.

Later, he was killed.

Xu You had been Cao Cao’s old friend.

Jia Xu had once stood on the other side.

Years earlier, Jia Xu had served as an adviser to Zhang Xiu. Zhang Xiu had surrendered to Cao Cao, then suddenly turned against him and attacked his camp at Wancheng.

Cao Cao escaped.

His eldest son, Cao Ang, did not.

Jia Xu was in Zhang Xiu’s camp at the time.

A few years later, as Cao Cao and Yuan Shao prepared for their struggle in the north, Zhang Xiu had to decide which side to choose.

Yuan Shao was stronger.

Cao Cao was weaker.

Jia Xu told Zhang Xiu to choose Cao Cao.

Zhang Xiu asked:

“I have fought him. Why would he ever accept me?”

Jia Xu said:

“That is exactly why you should go.”

Yuan Shao was strong enough not to need them. Cao Cao was not.

Zhang Xiu went.

Cao Cao accepted him.

And he kept Jia Xu too.

Jia Xu kept his private circle small. Even when arranging marriages for his children, he avoided tying his family to the most powerful households.

Cao Cao knew how intelligent he was and often listened to him.

But Jia Xu had not been there from the beginning.

By Cao Cao’s later years, the question of succession had become increasingly sensitive.

Two sons stood at the centre of it: Cao Pi and his younger brother Cao Zhi. Cao Zhi was celebrated for his literary talent and had won much of his father’s affection. Men around the family were beginning to choose sides.

Cao Pi once sent someone to ask Jia Xu what he should do.

Jia Xu told him to cultivate himself, work diligently, and fulfil his duties as a son.

Later, Cao Cao asked Jia Xu himself.

This time, he sent everyone else away.

“Who should I choose?”

Jia Xu said nothing.

Cao Cao waited.

“I asked you a question. Why aren’t you answering?”

“I was thinking about something.”

“What?”

Jia Xu said:

“Yuan Shao and Liu Biao — and their sons.”

Liu Biao had left behind a similar problem in Jing Province. After his death, his younger son inherited the province and soon surrendered it to Cao Cao.

Cao Cao burst out laughing.

Later, Cao Pi was named heir.

After Cao Cao died, Cao Pi became emperor.

Jia Xu was appointed Grand Commandant, one of the highest offices in the state.

He died at seventy-seven.

There was another man Cao Cao had brought into his service, though by a different route.

Sima Yi.

The first time Cao Cao summoned him, Sima Yi refused to come.

He said he was suffering from an illness that left him unable to move.

Cao Cao did not quite believe him. He sent someone at night to see whether the illness was real.

Sima Yi lay there without moving.

Years later, Cao Cao summoned him again.

This time Cao Cao sent word that if Sima Yi still refused, he would have him arrested.

Sima Yi went.

From then on, he entered Cao Cao’s administration — and the political order the Cao family was building.

Many years passed.

Cao Cao was dead.

Sima Yi was ill again.

This time, the man watching him was Cao Shuang.

The emperor was still young, and Cao Shuang and Sima Yi had originally been appointed to govern on his behalf.

At first, Cao Shuang treated Sima Yi with respect and consulted him on important matters.

Then the balance shifted.

More and more power gathered around Cao Shuang. Sima Yi still held an impressive title, but there was less and less for him to decide.

Eventually, he reported that he was ill and stopped appearing at court.

Cao Shuang was still watching.

A senior official named Li Sheng was about to leave the capital for a post in Jing Province, his home region. Before leaving, he went to visit Sima Yi.

It was also a chance to see just how sick the old man really was.

Two maidservants helped Sima Yi into the room. One tried to dress him. The clothes slipped and fell.

Sima Yi pointed to his mouth to show that he was thirsty. A servant brought him porridge. He could barely manage it. The porridge spilled from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chest.

Li Sheng stared at him.

He had heard that Sima Yi was ill.

He had not expected this.

“I am returning to Jing Province,” Li Sheng said. “I came to say goodbye.”

Sima Yi seemed not to understand.

“Bing Province is close to the northern frontier,” he said. “You must be careful when you get there.”

Li Sheng corrected him.

“Not Bing Province. Jing Province. I am returning home.”

Sima Yi still seemed confused.

“You’re going to Bing Province?”

Li Sheng explained again.

Only after a while did Sima Yi appear to understand.

He said he was old now, that his illness was getting worse, and that they might never meet again. He asked Li Sheng to look after his two sons in the future.

Li Sheng left the house and went back to Cao Shuang.

“He is like a corpse with only a breath left in him. Body and spirit have already parted. There is nothing to fear.”

Cao Shuang let down his guard.

Not long afterwards, he left Luoyang with the young emperor to visit the imperial tombs at Gaoping. His brothers and the most important men around him went too.

Once they were outside the city, Sima Yi moved.

The gates of Luoyang came under his control.

The armouries were seized.

Troops began to move.

The restless speak too much, the composed speak slowly, the wise speak little.

Before you say it, think again.