The Ten Forbidden Books of the Ming and Qing Dynasties - A Photo Album (Part 1)

Table of Contents
Introduction to *Huayingji* (花影集) Preface to * Huayingji* Introduction to 　　*Huayingji*
Volume One Volume Two Volume Three Volume Four The Story of the
Retired Scholar The Story
of Liu Fang's 　　Three Righteous Men The Record of Gathering Herbs on Mount Hua 　　The Story of 　　the Down-and-Out Scholar The Record of Loyalty Record by 　　Mengmeng Weng The Record of 　　Jia Sheng's Judgment The Story 　　of the Marquis of Dongqiu The Record of Watching Lanterns 　　in Guangling The Record of Guan Jian's Evening Gathering at 　　Hanting The Midday Dream at Youting The 　　Story of Xin Jian Jin Shi The Story of 　　the Four Pieces of Jade The Record of 　　Pang Guan Lao's Poems by the Beggar Old Man The Good Songs of Zhai Ji Zhai The Record 　　of the Woodcutter of Yunxi The 　　Record of Leisurely Commentary on the Pure Gathering The Record of 　　Late Enjoyment in the Western Garden 　　Introduction to 　　*Huayingji* (花影集) *Huayingji* is a collection of short stories in four volumes, consisting of 20 stories. It was compiled by Tao Fu of the Ming Dynasty. Initially, it was known for its righteous principles and moral principles. Later, the Old Man of Xichuan, moved by its "concern for worldly teachings and the rectification of people's hearts," upheld moral principles and had it handwritten and passed down. 　　*Huayingji* has a preface, an introduction, and five stories in each volume. It begins with "The Story of the Retired Scholar" and ends with "The Record of Late Enjoyment in the Western Garden." It contains biography of Liu Fangjie and Dongqiu Hou, which truthfully record loyalty and integrity, serving as a moral lesson for the world; "A Midday Dream at the Post Station" praises the loyalty and righteousness of officials; "The Story of the Four Pieces of Jade" and "The Story of a Firm Heart" are used as metaphors to illustrate the dangers of licentiousness and vulgarity. The writing surpasses that of previous works such as "Yu Hua" and "Xin Hua." It is a rare work that promotes righteousness, praises good and punishes evil, and teaches people the Way. Preface to * 　　Hua Ying Ji *: 　　"Writing must concern itself with worldly teachings, rectify people's hearts, and uphold moral principles; only then can it achieve true righteousness. Otherwise, even if it resembles the wind and clouds, or the moon and dew, and sounds like gold and jade when thrown to the ground, it is still as the ancients called it an empty cart without substance." *Hua Ying Ji*, in four volumes and twenty chapters, was written by Tao Gong, the Hermit of Xichuan. Upon opening the book, I found the first chapter to be "The Story of the Retired Scholar," which is Tao Gong's own account. Although he expressed lofty sentiments, the final chapters did not forget his intention to be strict with himself and lenient with others, which is truly admirable. He concluded with "A Record of Late Enjoyment in the Western Garden," interspersed with "The Records of Mengmeng Weng," which further described his leisurely and elegant sentiments towards the secluded beauty of nature. Since Chao, Xu, Yi, and Qi, and after Yan Ziling, Tao Yuanming, and Lin Junfu, our dynasty has produced such a person—truly the highest! Among them, "The Biography of Liu Fang's Loyalty and Righteousness" and "The Biography of Marquis Dongqiu" both truthfully record his loyalty and integrity, serving as a model for the world. The Dongqiu family's loyalty to the end was particularly valiant, and his concubine, Lady Sun, made a great contribution by planting an orphan. Although the others are allegorical, the author, Liaodaozi, uses the fall of the Song dynasty to explain the natural order, and his intention to suppress wickedness and reward loyalty is evident in his words. Yunxizi also said that the disaster at the end of the Song dynasty was due to karmic retribution, and the indignation of loyal subjects was naturally irrepressible. "A Midday Dream at the Post Station" praises the loyalty and righteousness of officials, suggesting that although it may not be rewarded by the people, it will ultimately be rewarded by Heaven. "The Record of Gathering Herbs on Mount Hua" profoundly clarifies the errors of alchemy and Taoist practices, aiming to awaken people from their delusions. "Idle Commentary on the Qinghui Record" profoundly elucidates the principles of ghosts and gods, aiming to enlighten the world from its confusion. "The Tale of Four Pieces of Jade" and "The Tale of a Firm Heart and Unyielding Spirit" use metaphors and analogies to serve as punishments for lewdness, flattery, and moral decay leading to disaster. "The Record of Watching Lanterns in Guangling" and "The Record of Guan Jian," though both fictional, one thoroughly refutes the harm of heresy, while the other details the karmic consequences of good and evil. "Jia Sheng's Judgment" is based on the ancient concept of the God of Money, aiming to rouse the world from greed and encourage integrity. "The Night Gathering at Hanting" uses the romantic encounter between a gentleman and a lady to warn against lewdness and guide people back to righteousness. "Zhai Ji and Zhai Shan" guides people based on their natural inclination to seek good fortune and avoid misfortune, leading them to good and away from evil. Pang Guan Lao Qu vividly portrays the nature of wine, women, wealth, and anger, making people aware of what to punish. "The Beggar's Songs" clarifies the self-determination of wealth and poverty, enabling people to make informed choices. All of this is related to social education. Compared to previous works such as "New Talks," "Miscellaneous Talks," and "Imitations," the wording differs, but the intent surpasses them. The author's ancestors were promoted to the rank of Earl of Datong for great merit, and the author, being a nobleman, disregarded martial arts, devoting himself to classics, history, and literature; his deep cultivation was evident from the beginning. Later, inheriting the title of Imperial Guard of Yingtian, he did not conform to the times, even requesting retirement to seek pleasure in nature and enjoy life; he wielded the brush to express his broad knowledge; he befriended the ancients, optimistically observing the changing times to express his feelings. He wrote this collection in his spare time, perhaps merely a playful jest about romance and nature. Many of his other works are still widely circulated today, but this preface does not mention them. The author's given name was Fu, courtesy name Tingbi, and his pen name was Xichuan, also known as Anlizhai Haiping Daoren. 　　On the Lantern Festival of the first month of spring in the Bingzi year of the Zhengde reign (1516), Zhang Mengjing, the head of the Anji Prefectural School in Zhejiang, wrote this in the preface to *Huayingji* ( 　　Collection of Flower Shadows 　　): "The grain in the granary, who would have thought it would be devoid of rat droppings? The soil in the treasure trove, why would it not contain pearls and jewels? Thus, there is no end to the gains and losses of reason, and no one's heart is purely one of right and wrong. This is truly the natural order of things, and the mutual influence of human desires. In my youth, I once obtained Mr. Zongji Qu's *New Tales of Lamp-Trimming*, Mr. Changqi Li's *Further Tales of Lamp-Trimming*, and Mr. Fuzhi Zhao's *Collection of Imitations*, which I read and enjoyed. Among them were works praising good and condemning evil, using one thing to allude to another, employing pseudonyms to convey meaning, using literature for amusement, and indulging in unrestrained desires. Generally speaking, the works of these three gentlemen differed: one was a casual writer, one was exquisitely crafted, and one upheld righteousness while rejecting absurdity. Although their approaches to reasoning differed and each had its own insights, they all expressed their innermost thoughts and contained profound meanings, creating a dazzling and fantastical spectacle beyond the reach of shallow scholars." Without considering my own abilities, I compared the merits and demerits of the three authors, and, after some omissions and additions, compiled twenty chapters. I titled it *Hua Ying Ji* (Collection of Flower Shadows), which I considered my masterpiece. Several years later, I had time to study and finally understood the teachings of the sages. I deeply regretted the errors of my predecessors and ignored them for thirty or forty years. Now, at eighty-three, in my declining years, my children have been examining my bookshelves, taking out my life's manuscripts, intending to compile them as a legacy. Fortunately, a collection of flower shadows exists there. They said to me, "This is also a completed book, why not write a preface?" I nodded and sighed, saying, "To preserve and preface it is truly not what I should do; to discard and burn it, what can I do for the three gentlemen! Who am I to dare hope to be perfect in everything!" Therefore, I reluctantly wrote this preface. Written 　　on an auspicious day in the fourth month of summer, the second year of Jiajing (1543), by the eighty-three-year-old Xichuan Elder . *Biography 　　of Tuiyi Zi* ( 　　Biography of Tuiyi Zi), surnamed Bao, named Dao, also known as Master Baodao. His ancestors were a prominent family in Han. He was a man of principle, resolute and decisive, upright and honest, unyielding in his principles, and unwavering in his convictions. He understood human nature by empathizing with others and was well-versed in the principles of Heaven and the ways of the world. Therefore, when serving in office, he was loyal to his superiors, benevolent to his subordinates, courteous to his colleagues, and meticulous in his self-discipline. However, he was somewhat eccentric, preferring purity to corruption. Whenever faced with conflict, he could not be tactful or tolerant and would always reveal his true feelings and argue vehemently. If there was even the slightest disagreement, he would raise his fingers, his eyelashes would bristle, his beard would flare, and his anger would surge. His expression would harden, and his words would be thunderous, until he completely defeated the person, bowing his head, holding his breath, and losing all composure. 　　Someone said, “Sir, your way is indeed good, but it is inevitably hated by the people of your time and abandoned by the world. It is truly lamentable that you have wasted such a noble character and learned talent. Why do you choose to associate with vulgar people and befriend commoners, spending your life in a thatched hut? Why not lower yourself down a bit, and communicate with the masses? Then who among the people of your time would dare to discuss matters with you? Moreover, the preface to the Book of Changes says, ‘Adapt to the times and follow the Way.’ Can you alone return to this?” Upon 　　hearing this, the gentleman clapped his hands and stamped his feet, raised his eyebrows and grinned, tilted his head back and took off his turban, laughed and collapsed in laughter. He replied with a serious expression: "A scholar born into this world should be upright and honest, learning what is necessary and acting accordingly. When successful, he should benefit all under heaven; when unsuccessful, he should cultivate his own virtue. When the Way is in harmony, he should govern complex affairs, promote benefits and eliminate harms, govern the people and defend against aggression, establish rites and music, command armies to punish the disobedient, and assist the emperor in spreading good governance. It is only natural to hold a humble position, and it is not unworthy to rise to the rank of general or minister. When the Way is in decline, he should retreat to the foot of green mountains and the edge of clear waters, resting his head on rocks, rinsing his mouth with the stream, washing his feet and playing..." "Shadow, caressing the lone pine and facing the bright moon, howling amidst the mist and clouds and basking in the clear breeze. This is the place where a great man should return to his home. How can he, in his drunken revelry, linger in the shadows, acting like a woman, rushing to the gates of the powerful, knocking on the doors of the wealthy, bending his arms and holding his breath, offering his fawning face and begging for pity from others? You should give up, for I will not do such a thing." 　　Later, the gentleman had an encounter with this, and thus wrote "Lament of the Precious Mirror" to mock himself, forcefully resigning from his post, naming his residence "Hall of Leisure," and composing an inscription to commemorate it. 　　Lament of the Precious Mirror 　　: The mirror, round and upright, shines brightly like the autumn moon, reflects in the clear pool, follows every frown and smile, responds to every tilt of the head. It has the clarity of a candle, but lacks the capacity for tolerance. Alas, without a beautiful woman, it becomes an ugly woman suffering from illness. 　　Inscription for Hall of Leisure: 　　The Way is not about grandeur, but about attaining it; position is not about prominence, but about suitability. The wise and foolish are mixed on the same path, the good and evil are of different kinds. The petty man revels in cunning and profit, while the virtuous man harbors extraordinary achievements. He uses mulberry branches for roof beams and camphor wood for plowshares and bows. Thus, he abandons his tools, yearning for a peaceful return home. Clouds and mountains rise in his heart, and misty waters enter his dreams. Glory and advancement depend on whether one is successful or not. Humiliation and retreat depend on whether one is poor or not. In the weary twilight of his life, he longs for tranquility and languor. Those who desire value possession, while those who are lazy value leisure. Fortunately, my desire has been fulfilled; I inscribe this on the eastern wall of my humble dwelling.

Then came the sweltering heat, and the gentleman's feast was incomplete, his curtains sparse. By day he was tormented by flies and fleas, and by night by ticks and mosquitoes. Moreover, his clothes were filthy and worn, infested with lice and gnats. This constant annoyance disturbed his peace of mind, to the point that he lost his appetite and sleep, and became anxious day and night. Yet the gentleman, oblivious to this, furrowed his brow, his face flushed with embarrassment, shook the table, and sighed, "How foolish I am! Why have I let worldly troubles burden me like this!" He then wrote a quatrain on the table: "
Family possessions burn like fire in my heart, I try to push them away but cannot open them.
Only when my wife and I are gone can my mind be clear and serene."
One day, while the gentleman was away visiting someone, his wife happened to see his poem and laughed, saying, "Master, your poem is utterly absurd! You do not consider that your clothes are filthy and your home is poor and unclean, allowing wicked insects to run rampant, disturbing your resting place, confusing your sleep, and causing you to lose your composure. As a great man, you cannot elevate the lowly to the noble, lift the poor to the rich, assist the world and serve the ruler, clean your dwelling and decorate your house, with gauze curtains by day and silk screens by night, yet you cause resentment in your household with your unruly behavior!" She tore up the poem. Then she folded a piece of thin paper into a square, like a birdcage, caught a tick, a mosquito, a fly, a louse, and a flea, placed them in the cage, and put it on the table. She titled it: "This is my household furniture." "
When the gentleman returned, he found the poem gone. He then noticed something moving inside the paper cage. He took it and held it up to the sunlight, revealing five insects. The gentleman understood, and laughed uncontrollably, saying, 'Though I am bad at self-criticism, how good are you at supporting your husband!' He then called a servant boy, who playfully fetched wine and food, set up lamps and incense to offer to the paper cage on the table, and composed a poem to send it away:
'Alas! In the vast expanse of space, the majestic principles of nature precede all. Yin and
Yang have already been established, their numbers cannot be changed.
The Five Elements govern their respective domains, each with its own form.
Since the numbers do not go beyond this, the principles cannot be biased. How can
such creatures exist, solely for harm?
Also called the wall louse, its viciousness is beyond description.
It regards human flesh and blood as its feast.
By day it is formless and shadowless, but by night it is countless.
It is comparable to a heartless child, a wicked accomplice who deceives Heaven.
'" Named the flying mosquito, frivolous and adept at maneuvering.
They hide in the open, but swarm noisily in the shadows.
They boast only of their sharp tongues, unable to distinguish
between the foolish and the wise. They are comparable to an unfilial son, cunning and opportunistic, each trying to outwit the other.
Another name is the fly, greedy and filthy, more sinful than anything else.
It frequently invades food and drink, drilling into your body whenever you sit or stand.
It leaves its offspring to soil your food, and throws its kind into your soup.
They are comparable to an uncouth son, shamelessly entwined with you.
Another name is the louse, its nature different from others.
Why don't they know how to hide, yet they swarm around you day and night?
They don't care about life or death, only profit matters to them.
They are comparable to a foolish son, quick to... Misfortune strikes from the depths of my heart.
One called the flea, cunning and deceitful.
It scratches the left, then bites the right; it prepares for the rear, then turns to the front.
It cannot be found when the mat is overturned, nor can it damage my clothes when I shake them.
It is like a faithless child, deceiving me with lies and falsehoods.
I am now poor and old, my body too thin to fit a fist.
I eat only vegetables year-round, my clothes are without silk or cotton.
I suffer from lack of warmth in my dwelling, and my flesh is never fresh. I
have never been hostile to you, yet you show me no pity.
You seek out the rich and young, where you can have both warmth and sustenance.
I offer you three cups of wine; do not linger any longer.
With each line I recite, I pour out a cup, reciting poetry... Having finished, the wine was also exhausted. He threw down his pen,
then collapsed drunkenly onto his couch. As he slept soundly, he dreamt of five men, hunched over, approaching him. One wore golden armor, calling himself Xiangzi Champion; another had a long chin and leopard-like feet, calling himself Chonghua Advisor; another wore a crimson turban and green robe, calling himself Fen Shen Chief Secretary; another wore elegant white robes, walking slowly, calling himself Ju Mian Jishan; and the third wore black armor, calling himself Hei Guang Tun Chief. All bowed before his couch, rising and falling in proper decorum.
One of them said, “We have never been on good terms with you, yet we have offered you food and sacrifice. We have not done anything wrong, yet you have suddenly insulted and driven us away. Although we are but insignificant beings, we are also nurtured by the Creator, sharing this world with you, sir. But instead of extending benevolence and forgiveness, you recklessly wield your pen and speak eloquently, indulging your own boundless selfishness and finding fault with others. In our opinion, you have no regard for the Five Constant Virtues.” Now, the administration of the prefecture is inadequate, and you cannot offer advice; the villagers are impoverished, and you cannot help them; is this what you call benevolence? Border barbarians invade, and you cannot defend against them; thieves steal, and you cannot stop them; is this what you call righteousness? You resign from your post without illness, leaving without waiting for a reply; is this what you call propriety? Your wife and children are hungry and cold, and you cannot provide for them; in this enlightened time, virtuous officials are appointed, and you cannot bring them to prominence; is this what you call wisdom? Living in a filthy, polluted dwelling attracts flies; dilapidated walls attract ticks; damp, filthy ground attracts fleas; sparse, greasy fur attracts lice; lacking curtains attracts mosquitoes. Having been treated with hospitality, you now turn away out of disgust; is this what you call trustworthiness? Moreover, you are still muddle-headed, yet you expect others to be enlightened? Who says you are wise? You are merely a fool! "Upon hearing this, the gentleman was speechless. The five men then clapped and jumped, shouting as they dispersed.
Upon waking, the gentleman recounted his dream, writing it in bold on his right side as a self-reminder. The Story of
Liu Fang and the Three Righteous Men:
In the early years of the Xuande reign, Meng Village in Hexiwu was a market town along the river, a place where boats gathered. It had nearly several hundred households, among whom lived an old man named Liu, known as the Elder, who ran a tavern. He owned several thatched huts and a dozen acres of meager land, with enough to eat and wear. However, he and his wife lived alone, each over sixty years old, with no other brothers or sons to rely on.
That year..." An old soldier surnamed Fang, from the Imperial Guard, was staying at an inn with his son, about twelve or thirteen years old. That evening, Fang suffered a stroke and by dawn was completely unconscious. His son wailed inconsolably several times, and the old woman wept for him, allowing him to stay at her home. She provided him with all the gruel, medicine, and nourishment he needed. Less than half a month later, the old soldier died. His son knelt before the old woman and said, “My deceased father was a soldier in the Imperial Guard. My mother passed away a certain year. My father and I wanted to return to our ancestral home to ask for a small amount of travel expenses for my mother's funeral, but Heaven did not protect us, and my father died on the way. He left me alone, without a single penny. I beg your great kindness to lend me a few feet of soil to temporarily bury my father's remains. I am willing to be your slave for life to repay this kindness. If you do not grant my request, I will throw myself into this river and become an unfilial ghost.”
Having said this, he burst into loud sobs. The old woman wept bitterly and said, “Alas!” "What are you saying! Even a young child like you knows filial piety, how could I not know righteousness?" He then prepared a coffin and burial, buried him behind the house, and inscribed the tombstone: "The Tomb of Fang, a soldier of the Imperial Guard." He said to his son, "I wish to send you home and ask your relatives and friends to fetch the coffin and burial goods, but I fear you are too young and weak to go by yourself. You may stay at my house temporarily until someone you know is found."
The son knelt and wept again, pointing to his heart and swearing: "Though I am young, how could I not know your kindness! When my late father was ill, he was deeply grateful for his illness and provided medicine on time. When he died, he was unable to afford the coffin and burial goods; even his closest relatives might not have done so. Moreover, I grew up in the capital, and I know no one in my hometown. If I do not repay this kindness, how can I return home? Furthermore, I have heard that your father and wife have no children or nephews. Though I am unworthy, if you would not despise me and take me in as a servant, I will serve you day and night. If my father and father pass away, how could I not be the one to pay my respects?" Then I went to Beijing to retrieve my late mother's remains and buried them alongside my late father's at the graveside of my late father's grave. This way, my sins of being ungrateful and unfilial will be absolved.” Upon hearing this, the old couple were both saddened and delighted, saying, “Truly a blessed heir from heaven.” Therefore, they did not erase his surname and named him Liu Fang, treating him with utmost kindness and care. Fang was exceptionally filial and diligent in household affairs, working tirelessly day and night, always as if he were lacking.
Later, during a strong autumn wind, a wrecked boat drifted upstream and anchored at the shore in front of our house. The boatmen cried out, drowning and scattering everywhere. Only a dozen or so were rescued by the residents and brought ashore. Among them was a young man, not yet twenty, whose breath was about to cease, yet he still clung to a bamboo box. Beside him was a young woman, embracing and crying incessantly. When asked why, he replied, “This man is my husband, and in this box are the bones of my parents-in-law.” Fang, who was watching from the side, returned to his parents and told them what had happened. Overwhelmed with grief, he could not speak coherently, saying, “This man's misfortune is just like my own suffering.” Upon hearing this, the old woman rushed to help the two drowning children back home, gave them dry clothes and warm food, and they recovered within a day. The person who told them, “
This woman is surnamed Liu, from Zhangqiu, Shandong. This woman is Li, the wife of this man. Two years ago, she accompanied her father to the capital for the third time to take the imperial examinations, but unfortunately, she encountered a plague, and her parents both died within a month. My husband and I were unable to carry their coffins back to our hometown, so we had to cremate them and make a plan to return home. Who would have thought that our unfilial and wicked father would suffer this misfortune again? We are truly grateful for your help, you are like a second parent to us. However, Li was six months pregnant when she was caught in this fright and drowning; her internal organs were severely damaged, and before we could prepare for childbirth, the baby had already miscarried.” The old woman and her husband were filled with pity and quickly cleaned and warmed the room, preparing porridge and water for her day and night.
A few days later, Li also died. The old couple prepared a coffin and buried him behind the house. They deeply comforted Liu Qi and advised him to stay at their home temporarily, sharing meals and lodging with Fang. They discussed waiting for a boat to arrange their return, but dozens of times they were told that the bones would be damaged by the impact on the boat, and the matter was never settled. Moreover, Qi had been injured in several places by the hook when rescuing someone from drowning, and his sores festered, preventing him from walking for several months. However, Qi was well-read and literate, and seeing Fang's exceptional intelligence, he taught him to read and write in his spare time. Fang understood everything after reading it once, and within a month, he had mastered all the classics and calligraphy.
One day, Qi's sores had slightly healed, and he told the old man and woman, "Although my illness is cured, I am so poor. I have no other way to repay this debt. I wish to carry my father home first, and then my mother. Please allow me to repay your kindness after my funeral." The old man said, "Alas! The journey is long and lonely, and your son is young and weak. This is not a good plan. I have a rickety cart that I have kept for a long time without using it. I will give it to you to carry your parents home. Wouldn't that be helping you accomplish your mission?" Qi firmly refused to accept it. One day, Qi suddenly disappeared. The old man and the others lamented for days, but there was nothing they could do. After a while,
the old man fell seriously ill, which lingered for several months. He was constantly dressed and weary, his body emaciated from worry and toil. Suddenly, Qi arrived, and the whole family was overjoyed. The old man said to Qi, "I failed you before, why are you so resentful, leaving without saying goodbye?" Qi knelt and wept, saying, "I am deeply grateful for your life-saving grace, which I have yet to repay. When I heard about the donkey you gave me, I made this foolish plan, intending to secretly return home to seek other means of livelihood. Unexpectedly, upon arriving home, I found that the Yellow River had flooded two years ago, and the surrounding villages were engulfed in flames. All the inhabitants, livestock, fields, and houses had been swept away, leaving only white sand and weeds stretching for miles. Alone and helpless, I wandered aimlessly for months, unsure whether to go forward or retreat." "I have no other choice. I am staying at a guesthouse, thinking quietly about where my deceased parents' coffins will be laid to rest. Though my lord has shown me great kindness, when will I ever be able to repay it? Perhaps I should return to his home and ask for a small plot of land to bury my long-suffering parents. If I were to die for my country, I would atone for my sins and dedicate my life to serving the family. I wonder if my lord will grant my wish?"
The old man said, "Alas, how strange! How fortunate I am to have such filial sons come to share my plight!" He then recounted the whole story of Liu Fang to Qi. Qi was also astonished. The old man continued, "If it is true, you, Qi, are the elder brother, and you, Fang, are the younger brother. If you share the same heart and the same sense of duty, this meager property will be enough for you to make a living." Thereupon, Qi and Fang bowed again to receive his instruction. The two loved each other dearly and did their utmost to care for their parents, providing them with the finest delicacies and the simplest comforts throughout the winter and summer.
Another year passed, and the old man died before her, followed by the old woman. The two sons, having fulfilled all the duties of sons, were overcome with grief and wept until their tears flowed like blood. Before the burial, the brothers decided on a burial site and brought their mother's remains from the capital. They built a tomb together, arranging three graves like pearls in a row. The two sons shared a room next to the tomb, and for three years they never put down their walking sticks. Their influence on the community spread far and wide. After the mourning period, the brothers worked diligently, and their business flourished. Within a few years, they were the wealthiest in the region. People attributed this to their filial piety and righteousness.
One night, the brothers were drinking by the window. When they were halfway through their drinks, they talked about their lives. They lamented the perilous circumstances they had faced, grieved the loss of their three fathers, were amazed by their righteous union, and rejoiced at their successful marriage. They showed each other their sorrow and tears flowed uncontrollably. Qi said, “This is all thanks to our sincere efforts and the blessings of Heaven. However, I am twenty-two this year, and my brother is nineteen, and neither of us has yet considered marriage. Moreover, the lifespan of a person is unpredictable, and if we were to die prematurely, the ancestral rites of our three clans would be lost. If we each seek a good match while we are still alive, perhaps we can have children, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
Fang remained silent for a long time, then slowly said, “Brother, have you forgotten? When our adoptive father was dying, my brother and I swore that we would not marry. Why are you saying this now?” Qi said, “No. Initially, because our parents were dying and we were in dire need of mourning, our family was poor, so we made this vow to save money. Now, we have fulfilled our filial duties, repaid our debts of gratitude, and our family is financially secure again. Besides, of the three unfilial acts, the greatest is to have no descendants. We cannot be so rigid.” Fang then went on and on, trying to keep his vow, and Qi could do nothing about it.
One day, Qi discussed this matter with Zhihou, whose friend said, "I've got it. Your brother thinks that he and your virtuous friend have already settled down, and he might want to marry you first." Qi said, "My brother is upright and kind; he would never have such intentions. Since you've made this plan, let's test it." So he secretly instructed the two matchmakers to meet with Fang and say, "Our family has a daughter, the same age as you two gentlemen. She is virtuous, beautiful, and talented, a perfect match. We respectfully discuss this marriage, and we'll wait until we find someone older before discussing your marriage." Fang became furious and said, "What kind of old woman is this, trying to sow discord between my brothers! Get out of here, lest I blame you." The two matchmakers left in shame and secretly told Qi. Qi and the others pondered this matter in many ways, but still couldn't figure it out.
Later, Qi saw the swallows working hard and wrote a poem on the wall to try and understand Fang's intentions. The poem reads: "
Swallows build their nests, two males, working diligently day and night until the nest is completed.
If they don't find a female to continue the eggshell, the nest will eventually be empty."
One day, Fang happened to see his poem, recited it several times with a smile, and then wrote his own poem afterward. The poem read: "
Swallows build their nests, flying in pairs; Heaven ordained a long-awaited union of male and female.
The female, having found the male, is content; the male, wanting the female, knows not.
" Qi saw this and was startled and suspicious, unsure of what to do. He hastily consulted his friends, saying, "My brother is physically weak, with a delicate voice, possessing a woman's demeanor. Moreover, we have shared a bed for several years, yet he has never exposed his feet, nor even in the sweltering heat does he sit naked. When we discussed marriage, they all refused, yet the poem's words convey such sentiments. Could it be a case of Mulan hiding her true identity?" The friends said, "Alas, indeed. You should ask him the truth; what harm is there?" Qi wept, saying, "My kindness and affection are so profound, like that of a living person; how can I bear to ask?" The friends said, "If she is indeed a woman, then marrying her would be a fitting end to your profound kindness and affection." Qi ultimately declined, feigning shame. The friends got him drunk and sent him home late at night.
As they were about to retire for the night, Qi, still drunk, said to Fang, "I think your poem about swallows is quite good, but could you perhaps compose a matching poem?" Fang, accepting the order, smiled and composed: "
Swallows build their nests, their calls are quacking, let not youth be wasted.
Alas, He Shi was loyal and pure, why did the King of Chu ultimately refuse to accept her?
" Qi said, "If that's the case, then you are truly like Mulan, why not say so?" Fang simply nodded. Qi continued, "Since we cannot be brothers, shall we be siblings? Or perhaps husband and wife?" He did not answer again, only weeping. When pressed further, Fang Xu replied, “If we were to be brothers and sisters, I should rightfully marry. My parents’ graves will forever remain as their final resting place. Initially, due to my mother’s death, I returned to my hometown with my father, but fearing the inconvenience of the journey, I chose to marry a man. Now that my father has passed away, I do not wish to change my appearance, but rather seek a place to rest so that my parents’ graves may rest peacefully. Fortunately, my adoptive father had no children and inherited this estate. Meeting you, brother, is also a kind and benevolent act. This is not a plan devised by man, but truly a divine coincidence. If you, brother, do not disdain my humble origins, and allow the descendants of our three families to continue, the name of the Three Righteous Men will be immortal.” Qi was overjoyed and immediately took Fang to bed. Fang said, “That is impolite! We must wait until tomorrow to offer sacrifices at the three graves, prepare my dowry, and announce it to our relatives and neighbors, then it will be alright.” The two then sat respectfully together until dawn, and proceeded as agreed.
Afterwards, they gradually became a large and prosperous family, with many descendants, and were known as the Liu Fang Three Righteous Men family.
A Record of Gathering Herbs on Mount Hua
In Tongyi, Shaanxi, there lived a man named Wu Jianli. He had studied for the imperial examinations in his youth, but failed repeatedly. He then gave up teaching and stayed home, no longer harboring any ambition for officialdom. Because his family was wealthy, his brothers were supportive, and his children were grown, he lived a life of leisure and had no affairs to manage. To the west of his house was a secluded Taoist temple. Its abbot, Liu Guhuan, was renowned for his Taoist practice, was elderly and virtuous, and was respected by the locals. Because of frequent visits, they became close friends.
One day, they discussed matters of immortality. Guhuan shared all his knowledge, and Jianli listened attentively. He spoke in detail about everything from the immortals of Songqiao to the immortals of Qiu and Ma. Jianli asked, "Then can the way to immortality be learned?" Gu Huan laughed and said, "Immortals are also human, and human beings are also immortals. What immortal cannot be attained through learning, and what person cannot learn to become an immortal? It's just that people are bound by wealth and status, or entangled by love and affection, toiling in their bodies and shackled in their minds. If not, then by aligning my pure heart with the illuminating Dao, what difficulty is there?"
Jianli asked, "I've heard people say that cultivating immortality is called internal alchemy, and refining gold and silver is called external alchemy. I don't know what the two are really about?" Gu Huan said, "External alchemy is the explanation of internal alchemy; internal alchemy is the verification of external alchemy. It uses lead and mercury to manifest phenomena, and combines yin and yang to contain principles in secrecy. It's like wielding cotton to sharpen a sword, or using water to hone a blade. This is just a general overview. As for the different names and mysterious principles of alchemy, these are the secrets left by our ancestors." "The hidden meaning is directly pointed out. Sometimes it uses one thing to describe another, sometimes it uses the obvious to reveal the hidden. The true traces are mysterious and profound; how can mere words fully comprehend them?" Jianli said, "Hearing your words, Master, has enlightened me. But I do not understand why, having attained such profound understanding, you do not strive for ascension but willingly remain in the mundane world."
Gu Huan sighed, "The path to immortality is indeed easy, but the human path is far more difficult. Those who study immortality must first prepare clothing and provisions, ensuring ample food and drink, freeing themselves from worries and anxieties, diligently advancing in the Way, consulting many sages, paying homage to enlightened teachers, gathering spiritual herbs to refine divine elixirs. Once the alchemy is complete, the resources for the Way are sufficient, then there will be no worries of hunger or cold in hidden cultivation, and the elixir can be obtained. One can then ascend to immortality and roam freely among the clouds and mist. As for poor Daoists, although they may falsely claim to be registered in the Xuanmen and have heard the Way, they lack provisions for day and night, suffer from summer worries and winter cold, and are insufficient to sustain themselves. How can they nourish the Way?" Even encountering a true immortal is ultimately of no benefit. Touched by your casual conversation about my foolish heart, I am filled with even greater sorrow. As the saying goes, "If you have no boat to cross the river, how are you any different from someone who has drowned?" Alas! Will the grass and trees rot away with me? Alas! He bowed his head for a long time, and several tears streamed down his face.
Upon hearing these strange words, Jianli was utterly captivated. He regretted his past failure in teaching and lamented the lateness of his encounter with Gu Huan. He exclaimed, "Is this true? Why should I abandon this path? I, despite my mortal impurities, wish to join the immortal union, discarding useless wealth to cultivate the true path. I wonder if my esteemed master will accept me?" Gu Huan replied, "If so, with your family's abundant resources and your innate talent, both are perfectly compatible. Cultivation and refinement can be achieved with ease. If this is not a joke, it is my great fortune." Jianli swore an oath of sincerity, and they each wrote a pure prayer, which they burned before the image of the Daoist. Thereupon, Gu Huan encouraged Jianli to build a hermitage, gathering people from all walks of life. Within a day, more than ten rooms were completed, and all the necessary supplies and expenses were provided.
In less than a year, word spread far and wide, attracting numerous practitioners, with dozens regularly dining there. Some were taught the arts of alchemy and alchemy, while others were taught the path of restoring one's original nature through elixirs. He cultivates his breath and preserves his spirit, replenishes his essence and nourishes his brain, gathers five and retains three, undergoes seven cycles and nine battles, hangs the precious sword in the true nothingness, and closes the millet pearl in the spiritual secret. As for the practice of drying mercury, shrinking goods and removing green, stealing souls and borrowing bodies, and taking a fetus from a false mother, even the "Understanding Truth" chapter of the *Cantongqi*, the diagrams of Yanluozi in the *Tizhenji*, and the secret formulas of Qingyang Wuyizi and Shibiao Gongfu, as well as the scriptures of Zhenyi Sanren, Jugouzi, and Yuanhuang Longhu, he discusses and investigates everything. Even after years and months of continuous discussion, day and night, night and morning, he still sees no results. His family fortune gradually declines, his concubines may be the subject of gossip, but he remains unperturbed. The more he is manipulated, the more deceitful he becomes, and the more deluded he becomes. His conversations and debates awaken the voyeuristic desires of madmen; his purchase of furnaces and cauldrons breeds the resentment of women who have lost their virginity. He even neglects sleep and food, his spirit and energy depleted, yet he does not stop. Friends and relatives advise him one after another, but he remains unenlightened.
One day, Gu Huan died without illness. Jian Li believed he had ascended to immortality and missed him dearly, wishing he could go with him. Later, he and two alchemists went to Mount Taihua to gather herbs, traversing treacherous peaks and enduring great hardship. Deep in the mountains, they found no trace of human habitation. By chance, they encountered an old pine tree, its dense green shade covering the ground, a stream flowing nearby, its foliage like embroidered silk. They rested there briefly. Jian Li, who was usually well-off, was exhausted and unable to bear the hardship, so he slept with his head on a rock. When he awoke, he found the two alchemists gone. Looking back, he discovered his clothes and provisions were all stolen. Jian Li was terrified and filled with fear and doubt, having no way back and no one to ask for directions! He only saw lush grass and tall trees, and strange rocks on the cliffs. Jian Li still suspected that the two alchemists might have manifested as immortals, ascending to the clouds and riding cranes, and dared not accuse them of being thieves.
Just as he was pondering this, he suddenly felt the mountain mist rising, the setting sun gradually sinking, the maple trees and the stream clamoring, the afterglow vying with the new moon for light. The verdant air dampened his clothes, and the cold mist seeped into his bones. As the sunset faded and the western mountains lost their light, the bright moon shone on the shimmering stream before him. Suffering from hunger and cold, he wandered through the dense forests, traversing ancient ravines and secluded cliffs, his plans futile, resigned to his impending death.
Just then, in his despair, he heard a song. Sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes low, sometimes high, it began faintly and gradually grew louder, like the cry of a crane in the autumn sky, the roar of a dragon in an ancient gorge. The melody was strange and unusual, clear and intense beyond the ordinary, breaking and then repeating itself. The song went: "
Life and death are determined by Heaven, poverty and wealth are also natural.
Fate has its beginningless origins, the principle has its past life.
Heaven and earth return to this, yin and yang cannot move apart.
How laughable are these foolish mortals, foolishly yearning to learn immortality."
The song ended, and the song continued.
As it drew nearer, it became an old man, with a full beard, handsome eyes, a prominent nose and arched eyebrows, his bearing extraordinary. The old man, Jianli, asked, "Was your journey fraught with danger? Were you afraid? Or perhaps you were cold and hungry?" Jianli, fortunate to have met such a kind and gentle elder, and hearing his words of concern, nodded and agreed repeatedly. The old man smiled and said, "No harm done, you need not worry. My humble abode is just before this mountain. I trouble you to stay the night; I will guide you home tomorrow morning." Jianli was overjoyed and followed the old man directly to the foot of the mountain. From afar, he saw clouds shrouding thatched walls and trees enveloping thatched huts; upon arrival, he found a stone bed and bamboo utensils, a secluded scene like a painting. The old man greeted Jianli and took his seat as a guest. Jianli bowed and asked, "What is your family background, sir? You are addressed with such high honors, yet you reside in such a secluded place?" The old man only smiled and did not answer. After tea, they were served fine local wine and drank together.
The old man then asked Jianli why he had come to the mountain, and Jianli replied that he had come to gather herbs. The old man sighed, stroking the table, and said, "The teachings of Confucius and Mencius are as vast as heaven and earth, as bright as the stars and the sun, yet they cannot guide future generations to follow the natural order. It is truly lamentable." Seeing that
the young man was still arguing incessantly about his actions, the old man said, "I don't need you to say more; do you think I don't know? What you call the Way is about processing lead and mercury to make gold and silver, and regulating essence and energy to achieve immortality. What are gold and silver, and what are life and death, anyway? Can they really be made by human power? Gold is the true essence of the Five Elements, one of the fundamental elements. The great earth relies on it for its formation, and all things depend on it for their fulfillment. It can be transformed and changed, easily gained and easily lost, and is called Heaven's bounty. Of all things under heaven, humans are the most precious. The most essential thing for humans is food and clothing, and the power over food and clothing rests with it. Therefore, throughout history, it has always been treasured. When a country possesses it, the people live in peace and harmony; when a family possesses it, their descendants rely on it. Ranks and honors are used to attract many scholars, and wealth and goods are used to employ merchants and artisans." Such a person possesses the beauty to topple a nation, can acquire vast fields, raise corpses from drownings, release prisoners from jail, and has the power to bring the dead back to life. However, they lack the virtue of upholding justice and benevolence, sharing the fate of fortune and misfortune with the cycle of creation. They are truly driven by the desires of the people, who flit about in the world. When fortune smiles, they come; when life is short, they depart. Those who fail to accumulate what they should will live long and prosper; those who fail to scatter what they should will inevitably suffer calamity. From kings and nobles to commoners, rich or poor, none can escape this fate. How can one gain much from little, or something from nothing? Furthermore, the path to immortality is utterly absurd. Immortals are the essence of the five elements, the extraordinary energy of heaven and earth. When this energy flows smoothly, in the heavens it becomes auspicious stars and clouds; on earth, it becomes sweet springs and fragrant herbs; and among humans, it becomes immortals and sages. When Qi (vital energy) is reversed, it manifests as ominous stars and strange phenomena in the heavens, as surging waters and shifting mountains on earth, and as demons and thieves among humans. As for immortals, some soar through the clouds and control Qi, some live on trees and dwell in mountains, some practice medicine to benefit people, and some use divination to foretell fortune and misfortune. Qi's presence is unpredictable, appearing and disappearing without end; when its lifespan ends, it dissipates. Do immortals not wish to impart their teachings? In reality, there is no way to transmit the Way. If people seek it vainly, how can they obtain it? To desire cultivation and become an immortal is like planting wheat and wheat and expecting to grow chrysanthemums, or cutting wild vegetables and expecting to grow orchids. The Great Book of Changes says: "Where there is principle, there is Qi." Since it exists, how can it not exist? Heaven and earth, mountains and rivers, gods and humans, all things are the same. Opening and closing are not separate; success and failure are not interchangeable. Plum blossoms in the stream bloom in winter, apricot blossoms in the valley are beautiful in spring. Wild grasses endure autumn, pines and cypresses last a thousand years. Length and shortness are not uniform; the principles of Qi are constant. How can one live forever and claim length as short? "If what you say is true, then the wise will be rich and long-lived, while the foolish will be poor and die young." Seeing this, he was astonished and convinced, bowing twice to receive your instruction.
The next day, he guided Li out of the mountains, returning home via the old route. Upon returning, he regretted his past mistakes and resumed his former studies. He then took his books and, accompanied by his servants, went back to Mount Hua, intending to study under an old man as his final teacher. However, upon arriving, he found the mountains layered upon layers of ravines, the path blocked by deep forests, and he could no longer find his way. (From *The Biography of the
Impoverished Scholar*) Zhu Li of
Shanyang was from a prominent family in the county. In his prime, he failed the imperial examinations and thus indulged in a life of seclusion, devoting himself to poetry and wine. He visited almost all the beautiful mountains and rivers, ruined tombs and ancient temples in
the county. His poems and essays, long and short, filled shelves. Poets and writers entertained him daily. However, Li was a man of integrity and abhorred favoritism. He hated those who were disloyal and unfilial as if they were his deepest enemies. One day, at a friend's house, he came across *The Biography of Yue Fei*, which he picked up and read. Upon finishing, he flew into a rage and exclaimed, "Was Heaven not above us at that time?" Is the earth not below? Are all the people of the nation drunk and unaware? How can such wickedness be allowed to run rampant! He shattered the scroll, looked up to the sky and sighed, clutching his chest and stamping his feet. He returned home and did not eat for several days before he finally calmed down. Suddenly, he composed a poem, invited his companions, prepared sacrificial offerings, wine, incense, and lamps, and used the poem to appeal to the heavens. He then wrote another poem to offer as a sacrifice. The poem reads: "
Six birds flew south, the heavenly axis was broken, the eight mausoleums and nine temples were separated by wind and dust.
The 120 cities of the Divine Land were overrun by dogs and sheep, the people of the two rivers shed their blood.
Zong Ze died, and the power could not be sustained. Boyan held power, but only sold empty words.
The weak schemers did not care about the injustice done to their fathers and brothers, and were heartless in their hatred and shame.
Yue Fei's loyalty and righteousness were as firm as metal and stone, and his mighty chieftains and barbarian soldiers were invincible.
Iron horses swept across the desert, and golden spears and high staffs were raised at Yanran.
The people cheered and longed for the old order, and the two capitals were swiftly swept away from the stench of war.
My patriotic heart first pierced my back, and there was... " We swear never to share the same sky with our enemy.
A proclamation was sent to the Central Plains, and the three armies smiled as the barbarian children wept.
Elders from near and far welcomed us with wine and food, and cunning bandits vied to surrender.
The Guanzhong Plain and the Yellow River region were in shock, and the barbarian capital's valuable goods were all moved north.
Suddenly, a treacherous plot forced the army to retreat, and twelve golden tablets were issued in haste. Whispers
in the east window revealed a treasonous conspiracy, and the Great Wall sank. The
wandering souls on the frontier yearned for their homeland, and on the
edge of the sea, they knelt before their enemy, the Jin. For a moment, their will was pledged to the mountains and rivers, but
for ten thousand years, their injustice will be as deep as the sea and mountains. Their integrity is praised throughout the ages, and the cold moon over the lake reveals their heart.
Reading this tale, my anger surges like a mountain, and I want to unleash my full power. I will rally
those who uphold justice and love the benevolent, and exhume the infamous tomb of the Qin traitors.
Break their coffins, grind their bones to dust, and raze their graves to the ground; uproot their trees and exterminate their descendants.
Oh, Yue, what can be done? This hatred will last forever, heaven and earth.
He then offered a prayer to the heavens:
"Looking up to the vast and mysterious sky, I express my grief and indignation to Heaven.
Why are the loyal and virtuous executed, while the wicked live long lives?
I ask the spirits, where are they? Why do they allow evil to go unpunished?
I plead for justice, that it may be investigated, even in a different era, I will seek redress for them."
After the sacrifice, he slaughtered animals, cooked wine, and drank merrily with his friends until the end.
That night, as Li was about to retire for the night, he suddenly fell seriously ill. At dawn, his mouth was crooked, like a conch shell being blown. His friends rushed to help, but to no avail. Some even consulted a sorceress, who said, "The Prime Minister of Qin was a senior official of the previous dynasty. You are not a close confidant of Yue, yet you have avenged someone else's hatred without cause, and this is your secret retribution. If you do not vow to repay this debt, you will surely die from this illness." The whole family was terrified, bowing and prostrating themselves, and rebuking Li for his madness. Li only smiled and did not answer.
Afterwards, Li's illness subsided slightly, and he gathered hundreds of thousands of coins from his family, mortgaged paddy fields, and raised a million coins, planning a trip to Hangzhou. He then prepared his clothes, accompanied by servants, and set a date for his departure. His friends held a farewell banquet for him and inquired about his reason. Li replied, "I will go to the tomb of the Qin prime minister to apologize." The others agreed. He then set sail and departed.
Returning in a few days, the others were surprised and asked him why. Li put his hand to his forehead and said, "Alas! I, with my dull and foolish nature, missed my studies early and acted recklessly. I acted on my limited understanding and almost fell into injustice. Fortunately, I met a wise man who saved me from this mistake. This is my good fortune and blessing, and you gentlemen should congratulate me."
The others asked him to explain, and Li said, "My true purpose in going there is to go to Hangzhou, use the funds to gather righteous people, exhume the tomb of the Qin traitor, and redress the injustices of the past and present. How could I possibly stoop so low?" I believed in the shaman's promise! Unexpectedly, upon reaching Gaoyou, I was stopped by a strong wind at Hukou, anchoring near a waterside village. I disembarked and strolled along the shore for about a mile, circling around to the edge of the sandbar. I found myself in the shade of a clump of reeds and sat down on the sand. It was mid-autumn; the water was low, the sandbars were empty, the sand was clear, and the waves were calm. Looking around, the lake stretched to the horizon, merging seamlessly with the sky, water and sky merging into one azure. The new moon rose, its light shining through the evening clouds; the setting sun cast its glow on the edge of the sunset. A day's worth of poetic inspiration, a heart full of melancholy
. Lost in thought, I suddenly heard voices. Peeking through the reeds, I saw a man standing on the bank facing the lake. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a woodcutter. He carried an empty load in one hand and a large earthenware jar in the other. After a long while, he shouted several times, shaking the entire islet. In the distance, I saw a small boat emerge from the depths of withered lotus leaves; it was a fisherman approaching the shore. As he drew near, the woodcutter called out, "Have you caught any fish?" The fisherman replied, "I've caught a large bass, and it's almost cooked. I wonder if you have any wine?" The woodcutter held up the earthenware jar to show me. The two men clapped and laughed. They then moved their boat closer to the shore and moored it under an old tree. The woodcutter placed his feet on the bow of the boat and sat at the base of the tree. The fisherman sat down on the boat, kneeling opposite him. After a while, wine was brought in, and the two men drank and talked. Li secretly eavesdropped, but all they heard were otherworldly and fantastical words, not what was recorded in the scriptures. After a long while, the woodcutter said to the fisherman, "We have enjoyed drinking very much. I would like to sing a poem, and you should accompany me." So he struck a clay pot and sang: "
The clouds disperse, a thousand mountains and ten thousand trees are autumnal; the woodcutter's life is most serene and secluded."
Leisurely, I drink wine and enjoy the scenery as I please, unaware of the sorrows of the world.
A fisherman taps on his gunwale and responds: "
The lake is empty as the water recedes, a vast expanse of autumn stretches out before me; the fishing rod offers a unique and tranquil pleasure.
Lake fish and lake wine keep me drunk all day; gains and losses are but worldly sorrows .
" Li, hiding among the reeds, hears this fine poem and, without thinking, goes forward and exclaims in response: "
Suppressed by my waning hair, I am delighted to hear of these beautiful leaves emerging from the dust.
If you would not dare to scold me, I would allow you to join in; it would wash away the myriad sorrows of my wild life."
The two men stare at each other, their expressions displeased. Li then ... The fisherman bowed deeply, apologizing for his rudeness and impoliteness. The two men didn't exchange many words. The fisherman went ahead to untie his mooring rope and leave, but the woodcutter laughed and stopped him, saying, "He's not a madman or a vulgar fellow, but rather a junior scholar of ours. Besides, he can compose poetry; we could enjoy a moment of pleasure together. Why are you behaving so amiss?" The fisherman smiled and stopped, then invited the woodcutter to sit beside him and they enjoyed themselves together. The woodcutter said to the fisherman, "Just now I started the poem and you responded; now you should start, and we should both respond." The fisherman then... He yielded to reason, but reason dared not accept it. The fisherman then rowed and sang: "
Wearing a straw raincoat, all worries vanish; forests, springs, and courts are inherently the same.
The empty boat glides along, wherever it may; laughing at the poverty of Ruan Ji of yesteryear."
The woodcutter clapped his hands and echoed: "
The fame and glory of Han and Chu are fleeting; right and wrong, honor and disgrace, are the same throughout history. How can
one compare to a lazy, carefree traveler, who always claims poverty of body but not of spirit?"
Reason persisted in declining, then bowed and added: "
The noble and virtuous are all gone today; who can truly understand justice and redress grievances?"
He then generously spent money to seek righteousness. Not for the sake of worldly troubles.
After reciting, they each drank several cups. The woodcutter said to Li, "This child is a singer." Li dared not refuse, and recited in turn: "
Heaven is high and earth is thick, this injustice is deep, retribution is silent like a stone sinking.
I want to tell others about the past, but I don't know who shares my heart."
The woodcutter laughed and replied: "
White clouds overlap in the deep mountains, I return with my axe and the sun sets again.
Let's go to the riverbank for a drink, I've never cared about wealth and power."
The fisherman frowned and replied: "
A small boat, a leaf on the water and clouds, deep in the clouds, look..." Several lands sank amidst the dust.
Let tigers and wolves fight over the lost deer; right and wrong do not reach the hearts of wild men.
After reciting the poem, the fisherman said to Li, "Judging from your poem, your indignation is profound, your heart is troubled and anxious. Why are you so troubled?" Li dared not conceal anything, and thus told the
fisherman his place and name, explained the injustice he had read, and his plan to travel to Hangzhou. Upon hearing Li's words, the fisherman laughed and burst into laughter, saying, "You are a Confucian scholar, yet you do not understand such matters; you are impersonating a Confucian scholar. Let me explain to you: Heaven is called Yang, Earth is called Yin, and the Five Elements are further divided into form and energy. Humans possess the fullness of Yin and Yang, and the wonders of the Five Elements, thus they are based on the Five Constant Virtues and complete in all other ways. If human affairs are disordered, then Yin and Yang and the Five Elements lose their order, reason goes against energy, Yang is restrained and not relaxed, Yin is bleak and unruly, resulting in floods and droughts, plagues and locust plagues, even wars and national peril, and the people suffering. This is not due to any action of Heaven, but rather the result of human affairs; even Heaven is powerless to change it. Moreover, the Song Dynasty possessed the world..." Zhao Pu first plotted to usurp the throne, and later assisted Emperor Taizong in betraying his mother and elder brother to kill his younger brother and nephew; Wang Qinruo served Emperor Zhenzong, using deception to send down a divine book; Wang Anshi implemented new laws that ruined the people's livelihood; their origins are largely the same, so how can one expect them to flow cleanly? Several emperors in between, though possessing even the slightest good, could not outweigh their faults. By the time of Emperors Huizong and Qinzong, the situation was beyond redemption. Heaven's benevolence extended to the nine ancestral temples; the birth of the traitorous Qin Hui was not merely an enemy of Wang Fei, but a scourge destined to bring about the downfall of the Song Dynasty. Not merely... Killing Fei is tantamount to destroying the Song Dynasty. If Fei lives, the Song Dynasty lives; if Fei dies, the Song Dynasty dies. Since the Song Dynasty is destined to perish, how can one prevent Fei's demise? However, yin resides within yang, and yang follows yin's course; therefore, the way of the virtuous flourishes and brings fortune, while the way of the petty person declines and brings misfortune. Yang resides within yin, and yin follows yang's course; therefore, the way of the petty person flourishes and brings fortune, while the way of the virtuous person declines and brings misfortune. Fei and Hui worked together in the soon-to-be-destroyed Song Dynasty, precisely at a time when yin is in despair and yang is in a state of doom. Since Hui is enjoying the benefits of the times, how can Fei avoid misfortune? This is why you should not hold a grudge against Hui. Li
said, "If that's the case, then should Lord Yue consider loyalty and obedience wrong, and treachery and rebellion right?" Yu laughed and said, "If we consider Fei's life and death, there's more to say. A great man in this world always considers whether he was born at the right time or not, whether he died in a good place or not, as fortune or misfortune. Why should we consider the length of his life or the success or failure of his deeds as gain or loss? Lord Yue was precisely someone who was born at the right time and died in a good place; what could surpass his glory and virtue! Moreover, how many ministers of ancient times were able to establish unparalleled achievements and live out their lives intact? Since the rise of the Song Dynasty, there have been many capable military officials, yet why is Lord Yue the only one known to the world? It is because his ambitions were about to be realized but were suddenly thwarted, his achievements were about to be completed but were again lost, he died young at the height of his life, and the nation's spirit, which had been revitalized, was now beyond saving. This caused benevolent and righteous people to grieve and mourn as if it were their own death. Like Deng Yu, a famous general of the Han Dynasty, who suffered defeat in Guanzhong; and Zhuge Liang..." The Crouching Dragon of Shu suffered the loss of Jieting; Cao Bin, a virtuous general of Song, suffered the defeat at Baigou. Had there been no traitor to Qin, and Yue Fei had not died, who could guarantee his integrity to the end? Alas! Without the traitor to Qin, Yue Fei's loyalty would not be evident; without the traitor to Qin, Yue Fei's achievements would not be renowned; without the traitor to Qin, Yue Fei's end would not be glorious. Heaven created the traitor to Qin to ensure Yue Fei's eternal infamy. Those who wish to avenge Yue Fei are utterly ignorant of their purpose! Haha! '
The truth is clear. ' Upon realizing the truth, he danced with joy, overjoyed to the point of ecstasy, and bowed a hundred times to the fisherman and woodcutter to express his gratitude. The fisherman then beat his drum and sang, while the woodcutter played his gourd flute in harmony. Li joined in the dance, and the commotion grew loud and joyful. They were all drunk, and the fisherman then untied his mooring rope to depart. The woodcutter said to Li, "This parting may be difficult to reunite with. I have a short poem to offer you as a token of my respect." The poem read: "
Only wine can dispel sorrow in this world; even matters as great as heaven are forgotten when drunk.
Right and wrong are irrelevant; a life of carefree abandon is enough."
After reciting the poem, he let out a long howl and departed, while the fisherman rowed home. Li returned to his boat and went to visit him the next day, but found no trace of him. Li then returned with a deep sigh, vowing to abandon any thought of revenge.
His friends spread the word, astonishing those far and wide. Because of the woodcutter's poem, Li adopted the name "Laodao Ziyun" (meaning "the downtrodden one"). He abandoned his wife and children, and alone sailed far and wide, visiting various places, but his whereabouts became unknown. (
From *Mengmeng Weng Lu*
) Mengmeng Weng, initially known as a man from Huaxu Kingdom, later adopted another name. Nearly eighty years old, he was still diligent in his studies. However, he was not concerned with appearances, and his words and actions followed his heart. His demeanor was unrestrained; his clothes were often dirty and unwashed, and he ate coarse food without discrimination. He was honest with others and unconventional with things. He did not grieve over useless sorrows, nor did he flaunt his unrestrained joys. He always found pleasure in poetry and wine. He wrote in winter and summer, and traveled in spring and autumn. Someone once said, "I observe that you, sir, do not seek wealth and honor, are not troubled by poverty and lowliness, are not pleased by respect, and do not resent being deceived. You are truly a virtuous gentleman." Mengmeng Weng laughed loudly and said, “
Alas! You are over forty years old, yet you utter such childish words; your folly is evident. Moreover, as a human being, I look up at the boundless heavens and down at the endless mountains and rivers, the vastness of the four seas, the multitude of people, the abundance of gold, jade, pearls, precious objects, silks, the five grains, the completeness of all things, the abundance of fish, insects, birds, and beasts, the abundance of flowers, fruits, grasses, and trees. All that the heavens produce and the earth produces belongs to humankind, and among all people is my sovereign. Moreover, my sovereign resides in the ninefold heavens, in jade towers and golden palaces, with flowing robes; he is my father. His ministers and officials, clad in scarlet robes and bound with jade, in magnificent halls and jeweled pavilions, with stacked tripods and heavy cushions, are my uncles. Furthermore, my ministers and wealthy families, spanning prefectures and counties, possessing vast tracts of land and wealth, are my brothers.” Relying on the prestige of my father and elder brothers, and sheltered by the protection of my uncles and aunts, I dwell in the heart of the land, a man of noble birth, in a place where no one contends, where no one obstructs my path, where no one stops me, where I am free from the tyranny of the strong and the harm of tigers and wolves. I survey the nine provinces, overlooking both the civilized and the barbarian, enjoying the treasures of the four seas, and receiving tributes from all directions. By day I live without worry, by night I sleep undisturbed, I eat without tilling the land, I wear without weaving. I read books and practice etiquette, inquire into knowledge, continue the lineage of the Way, and inherit the lifeblood of sages. I express my feelings with poetry and books, or find pleasure in music and wine, appreciating the beauty of the four seasons and the splendor of the rivers and mountains. I linger among flowers and the moon, enjoying the scenery. I live a peaceful and happy life until my hair turns white. You should think carefully: what poverty or lowliness do I have to abandon, and what wealth or honor do I have to seek?” The speaker withdrew in shock.
One day, during a quiet night while reading, Mengmeng, lost in thought, closed his eyes and sat leaning against the table. Suddenly, a boy entered, singing and dancing. Mengmeng said, “Where did you come from?” Tong said, “It comes from your heart!” Mengmeng said, “My heart resides in your chest, but you enter from the outside. How can you say it resides in your heart?”
Tong laughed loudly and said, “The heart is like the wind, formless; like water, without substance; still as a drifting cloud, moving as a flash of lightning; it enters water without drowning, enters fire without burning; it penetrates metal and stone, exhausts all changes; it travels thousands of miles, yet is right before your eyes. It is vast, encompassing the universe, yet small, entering the dust of the world; it is like a wild ape that cannot be controlled, like a running deer that cannot be stopped. The so-called Great Dao has no constancy, yet there is heaven and earth; heaven and earth have no constancy, yet they give birth to all things. Who are you to make your heart reside in your chest? What resides in your chest now is your heart chamber. Judging from your words, they are either delusional or foolish, not worth arguing with. But I have a mission to fulfill, so I must express my sincerity.” He then said to Mengmeng, “My master, Lü Huanzi, has heard of your virtue and sent me to respectfully invite you to a meeting. I hope you will not refuse.” "Mengmeng did not inquire about her teacher's identity or where he lived, and went with him.
After a short while, they reached a riverbank. Looking into the distance, the water was shrouded in mist, vast and boundless, with islands and pavilions faintly visible within. The boy pointed to the spot and said, 'This is it.' Mengmeng said, 'There is no boat to cross.' The boy said, 'What I just said is that one can enter the water without drowning, and travel without a boat.' So they walked across the water.
Upon arrival, the host, dressed in deep robes and carrying a heavy staff, was waiting on the left side of the door. He bowed and ushered Mengmeng in, respectfully placing her in the head seat, showing the utmost respect as host and guest. Lü Huan then bowed again and said, 'I have studied the Book of Changes, but I have not fully understood it. I have heard that you, sir, have reviewed your knowledge and are very knowledgeable. I dare to humbly request your kind invitation to read it, hoping to understand what I do not know. I humbly hope you will not hesitate to ask.'" "Then he set up a lecture hall and consulted with Mengmeng one by one. Mengmeng told him everything she knew. After the lecture, Lü Huan was very pleased and bowed twice to express her gratitude.
Then he led Mengmeng to the banquet hall. There were several layers of pavilions and halls, and a large banquet was set up in the courtyard. The courtyard was high and open. There were no walls on the four sides, but golden screens were set up, which were dazzling. There were no lamps or candles, but the bright moon was in the sky and its reflection was reflected in the water, making it brighter than daytime. The delicacies and utensils set up were indescribable. He bowed to Mengmeng at the head of the table, and there were more than ten seats on both sides. Mengmeng declined, saying that she dared not accept the honor. Lü Huan smiled and said: "This small ceremony is specially prepared for you, sir. The other guests are just for drinking with. There is no need for you to make such a fuss." "
As the conversation continued, a guest arrived, and four men entered. Their attire was simple and ancient, their movements leisurely and elegant. One was of refined appearance, called Xiaoran Sanren (逍然散人). Another was of pure spirit, called Qingxu Haike (清虚海客). Another was of generous nature, called Yiyuan Daoshi (益元道士). Another was naturally refined, called Wuxie Zhenyin (无邪真隐). Then four more guests arrived. One was of frail physique, called Mengshan Zhanglao (孟山长老). One was of light and aloof appearance, called Yingxing Xiansheng (映形先生). One was of withered stature, called Fushui Zhuzhi (扶衰住持). One was of elegant and unrestrained manner, called Quyan Huishi (驱炎挥使). They bowed and yielded to each other, and then took their seats. Lü Huan raised his cup to Mengmeng, and all the music began, clear and melodious. Dozens of young girls performed the Lingbo dance. Attendants offered food and drink, and the guests and hosts toasted each other joyfully, chatting and laughing throughout the gathering.
Afterwards, Lü Huan addressed the assembly, saying, 'Although today's gathering is not grand, how many times in a hundred years of life can one truly enjoy such happiness? Without songs and poems, there is no way to commemorate this joyous occasion.'" "Then paper and pen were placed before him. Mengmeng firmly declined, but Lühuan said, 'Although this is an overstatement, sir, we must finish reciting before you can compose your own poem, thus showing your respect.' So Xiaoran Sanren recited: '
Xiaoran's heart is inherently pure and unrestrained, once enriching our people and inspiring the sage king.
The sound of bamboo striking is clear as jade, the pine's melody is subtle and discerning.
The Lantai Fu (a poem) inspires lofty ambitions, the Peiguo Ge (a song) evokes sorrow.
Cherishing old friends, my feelings are refreshing, I offer the fragrance of flowers to accompany the wine cup.'
Qingxu Haike (a scholar from Qingxu):
'Qingxu originally lived at the eastern end of the sea, soaring ten thousand miles into the sky.
The cold seeps into Changmen, the sky is desolate, the light shines on Pingle, the night is leisurely.
Dongting Lake's waves gather, a thousand acres of ice, Chibi Mountain is high, a jade hook.
Let us raise our cups to each other, three friends enjoying ourselves.
' Yiyuan Daoshi (a Taoist priest) Yi
Yuan Daoist is known for his romanticism, often accompanying learned men throughout history.
He carried thatched roofs to help the young Bai, and aided the feudal lords in their campaigns.
He maintained vitality to provide for extraordinary verses, and swept away doubts to dispel traveler's sorrows.
He laughs at himself, an old man with nothing to do, resting his head on the pine altar and stone couch under the sun.
Wu Xie Zhen Yin:
Wu Xie Zhen Yin is born from the spiritual platform, responding to all things through touch.
With material, he speaks naturally; without a title, he wastes his inspiration.
He diligently refines his words in leisure, and ponders them after drinking.
The wind and moon fill the courtyard, a beautiful scene; let us not waste our clear wine while facing the blooming flowers.
Mengshan Elder:
Mengshan Elder is inherently pure, Lu... Names are noted in the Yu Jing.
Driving away sleep, returning from midday slumber; skipping poetry lessons, dispelling spring hangovers.
A parched intestines are thoroughly refreshed by searching for words; a light sweat rises, dispelling unease.
I idly take bamboo branches to heat the stone cauldron, lying by the west window listening to the sound of turning carts.
Mr. Yingxing:
Reflecting forms are inseparable, following each other wherever we lie, recline, sleep, or walk.
At sunset, he leaves the courtyard; the lamp returns, still illuminating the screen.
Unpredictable weather dictates our appointments; day and night, endless gatherings and separations.
At dusk, we drink a cup under the flowers; the three of us share this quiet joy.
Abbot Fusai:
Alas, the abbot who supports the elderly; his merit in helping people is truly remarkable.
Stone Bridge Moss Slippery as a steed, I stroll slowly along the flower-lined path, the mud dry.
Throwing myself into the water, I transform into a dragon, defying the verdant bamboo; blowing light, I illuminate the pavilion, pressing down on the green reeds.
Please do not despise the strangeness of the dove's head; it once assisted the wise ruler, bestowing blessings upon the elderly.
Driving away the heat:
Driving away the heat, its spirit soaring, it once blocked the imperial carriage from leaving Jianzhang Palace.
Bamboo and silk have their craftsmanship and application; cinnabar and painting have no form, yet their wonders are many.
Loyalty returns to Zhuge Liang's chariot; filial piety resides beside Huang Xiang's pillow and mat.
Who wrote of the old friend, the cruel official, to dispel the summer heat and bring coolness?
Traveler of Illusions:
The boundless and the ultimate, the Dao and its vessels are established.
Principle is complete, Qi is formed; principle, form, and Qi.
One movement, one stillness, Yin and Yang are unfathomable.
Yang gives, Yin receives; the divine is mysterious, the ghost is secret.
Two and five unite, all transformations are one.
Reversing existence and non-existence, inverting reality and illusion.
One pulls, one opens; one closes, one opens.
Not slow, yet lingering; not fast, yet swift;
truth and falsehood are without end; dreams and waking are not straightforward.
Coming and going, death follows the natural order, life goes against it.
Changing and transforming again, vanishing and resting.
Pure and mixed, many branches, metabolism without trace.
Each possesses its own self, each is host and guest.
Neither lacking nor exceeding, neither harming nor benefiting.
Reality and illusion permeate, going and staying are without fixed abode.
Why rejoice so brightly, why grieve so sorrowfully?
All things follow the same path, a thousand years pass in a single day.
The four seasons urge on, the two polarities compete and press.
The Way of Heaven is difficult to fathom, the Way of Man can be learned.
Use it according to circumstances, follow the constant and obtain what is needed.
The profound can be discerned, the subtle can be understood.
Restrained yet not bound, illusory yet not confused.
Suddenly without confusion, serenely still and tranquil.
Not at odds with things, comparable to the Way.
When self and things cease, Heaven and Man become one.
Slight stagnation is easily smoothed away, even the slightest impurity is easily cleansed.
Avoid right and wrong, save effort and seek ease.
With wind and moon as companions, poetry and wine become enemies.
In despair and heartbreak, wandering brings solace.
A foot of jade is not precious, but an inch of time is truly valuable.
After the recitations were finished, Lü Huan raised his cup to Meng Meng, saying, "Our ramblings are not meant to be presumptuous, but merely a humble attempt to achieve something. We earnestly hope you will not hesitate to bestow your wealth." Meng Meng could not refuse, so she picked up her brush and recited: "
The immortals beckon me into an ice vessel, water connects with the lonely bright moon of the heavens.
Layer upon layer of palaces transform into golden energy, screens upon screens depict ghostly crafts.
Clouds and music adorn the table, accompanied by bluebirds, dew is frequently poured, and dancing jade maidens perform. "
While drunk, he wanted to pour out his heart...
but before he could finish the concluding lines, as he pondered in a dream, his attendant suddenly stepped forward and said, "Although I am unlearned, I wish to complete this line for you, sir." Lu Huan quickly stopped him, but the boy had already loudly recited, "The locust tree in the courtyard lets out a helpless cry of a crow." He then made another crow's caw, and the whole gathering burst into laughter. Lu Huan awoke with a start, still leaning on his arm at the table; it was all a dream.
He saw the moonlight on the eaves, the dawn gradually brightening, the distant temple bells tolling, and crows rising in the courtyard. He laughed to himself, still doubting himself, until dawn. He further pondered, "These eight guests are all people I have relied on throughout my life; why am I so dependent on them? Perhaps it is a divine intervention! But I wonder what the name 'Lu Huan' means?" Later, he often told his disciples, "I think of life as a dream, hence my name 'Man of Huaxu.' Now, this dream is like this again; it is truly a dream within a dream." Therefore, he changed his name to Mengmeng Weng (Old Man of Dreams).
A Tale of Integrity and Righteousness
My friend Zhou Yanbo often spoke of the early years of the Xuande reign. He once lived behind Gulou Street. His neighbor was a man named Chen An, courtesy name Yining, whose wife, Hao, was a respectful and devoted wife, known for her filial piety towards her parents. The couple were nearly thirty and had no children. Chen, though not holding a current official post, served in the military, working tirelessly from dawn till dusk. One day, he suddenly fell seriously ill, and doctors could not cure him. After more than a year, his condition worsened. An knew he would not recover. He thought of his wife, a woman from a distinguished family, chaste and upright. He feared that if he were to die, she would surely sacrifice herself to uphold her integrity. If that happened, his parents would be left without support, and his misfortune would further burden someone else's life. He wanted to speak, but could not; he wanted to remain silent, but could not. He could only gaze at his wife and sigh repeatedly.
Hao, understanding his meaning, wept and said to An, "I have served you for twelve years. You know my incompetence, so why do you doubt me so deeply and worry about me so much? If you are well, I am without worry; if something untoward happens to you, it will not only be your misfortune, but mine as well. Whether you live or die, I will live with you. How could I live on in this world, claiming to be a widow, tarnishing your reputation and causing your relatives and friends to doubt me? I will never betray your favor." An said, "My unspoken concern is precisely because I fear you will firmly hold this view. If you do not agree to my advice, firstly, my parents will be without anyone to care for them, and secondly..." " You are going against filial piety and following your parents' wishes, which is not appropriate. Why not temporarily yield to your superior opinion? Then your parents will have entrusted you with their life's work, and you will enjoy your remaining years. Wouldn't that be fulfilling both your duty and your principles?"
Hao wept and said, "You only consider one aspect. If I die with you, our relatives and neighbors will provide for us, and the government will provide for us. If I don't die, my parents-in-law will be worried, and our relatives and neighbors will have reservations. If you die, our stipends will cease, and where will our support come from? If I die before my parents-in-law, not only will my humble sincerity be wasted, but my parents-in-law will also be left without support. Wouldn't it be better to
follow the will of Heaven and the Way?" An had no answer, and they could only look at each other and weep. A month later, An's illness worsened, and his entire family surrounded him, weeping. An then sent for his friend, Wang Guanren. An then addressed the crowd, saying, “I have something on my mind that I have long been unable to speak of. Now that we are parting forever, I beg my parents, maternal grandparents, and my sworn brother Wang to grant my request. If they do not comply, I will not rest in peace even in death.” The crowd wept and responded. An said, “My wife is determined to die for her husband; we absolutely cannot listen to her. Wang is a kind and honest gentleman who has not yet married. After my death, he will have her marry into our family. My parents have lost their son and now have a son, and my wife has lost her husband and now has a husband. Although there may be doubts about propriety, it is a great blessing for me. If even one of them does not comply, my filial piety will not be fulfilled, and I will be a ghost filled with resentment in the afterlife.” The crowd dared not speak, but Wang stepped forward and replied, “Brother’s words are very profound; how could I not comply? But I fear things may change in the future. Now, what should we give to the crowd as a token of our agreement?”
An then called his wife to the bedside, took a silver hairpin from her hair, and gave it to Wang, saying, “If anything changes, take this to the authorities and report it.” Wang received the hairpin, wept bitterly, bowed, and left. The whole family wept, and Hao joined them, uttering no other words. The others found this strange. That night, Hao died peacefully. Hao held a funeral service, his grief overwhelming, wailing day and night, refusing food and water, becoming unrecognizable. After the encoffining, a royal official held a memorial service, accompanied by a guest who composed a memorial text. The text read: "
On the first day of the ninth month of the year Wushen in the third year of Xuande (1238), and the fourteenth day of the month Guichou, my younger brother Wang respectfully offers this libation to the spirit of my esteemed elder brother, Chen Gong Yining, saying: 'Your spirit possessed the righteous spirit of the primordial universe, and was imbued with the brilliance of the five elements. You were virtuous, talented, knowledgeable, and learned. You held a military officer position, yet never attained military power; you were renowned for your literary talent, yet never achieved your full potential. You hoped to be of service to the nation, to bring honor to your parents, to bring glory to your family, and to provide hope for your loved ones. Suddenly, Heaven withered your life, leaving your parents with unfulfilled grief and your young wife with the pain of having no heir.'" He is my heir. He has unexpected thoughts and endless plans entrusted to me, and I have always upheld the principles of life and loyalty to you. Though I bear this heavy responsibility, how could I dare to violate the natural order of human relationships? Therefore, I seek help from others, adapting to circumstances. Today, I respectfully recommend my friend, a man I have long admired, who is fit to serve as my servant. He will be filial to his parents with a public heart and treat his family with righteousness. I fear I have recommended the wrong person; may you, my spirit, discern the truth. Alas, how sorrowful! May you enjoy this offering.
After the sacrificial rites were completed, I addressed An's parents and relatives, saying: "This man is my friend, surnamed [name], given name [name], holding a [position], hardworking for many years, and still unmarried. He is virtuous and talented, a man of integrity, fit to marry into your household and support your family. His sincerity and diligence will surpass others. However, my initial meeting with Brother Chen was a temporary expedient. Though I am not talented, how could I dare to disrupt the bonds of friendship or violate the proper relationship between brother-in-law and sister-in-law? This is something even dogs and pigs would not do." The memorial text was prepared in due time, and I respectfully request that my parents and sister-in-law grant my request to fulfill my deceased brother's wish. The whole family thought it was perfect. Hao said to her parents-in-law, "What you said the other day about marrying me to Uncle Wang was not something a human being would do. The person you brought here is not a relative or acquaintance, so what's wrong with that? If he is willing to support my parents-in-law, why wouldn't I agree? Please tell Uncle Wang that the hairpin from before should be returned, otherwise I will not agree." "Wang believed it to be true and returned the hairpin.
The day before the funeral, Hao removed her mourning clothes, donned elaborate adornments, set out a feast before the coffin, and silently prayed, unheard by anyone. After the ceremony, she wailed all night. People feared she would commit suicide and took precautions. The next day, the coffin was moved, and as it was placed in the burial pit, everyone wept. Hao then threw herself into the pit, prostrating herself beside the coffin. People rushed to pull her away, but unexpectedly, Hao had a hidden blade in her hand and suddenly cut her own throat. Everyone was shocked and terrified. They then discussed reopening the coffin and burying her with the body. An's parents were distraught and lost their minds, crying out, 'Our son has died young, we relied solely on our daughter-in-law. Now she has committed suicide; we might as well die now!'"
So Wang wept and helped his parents up, saying, “I initially vowed to ensure my parents had a place to entrust their needs and my sister-in-law had a home. I came to the grave to keep my deceased brother company for a while. Now, fortunately, my sister-in-law’s virtue is beyond compare, and the couple is both virtuous. However, the care of our parents cannot be neglected; this responsibility rests with me. In ancient times, there were those who carved wood to make their mothers, to fulfill their unfulfilled desires. Unfortunately, my parents died young, and my unfulfilled desires have nowhere to be expressed. To have a human being as my parents is far better than wood, let alone the parents I should care for! Although my brother and sister-in-law are gone, I, Wang, am still alive. My parents should be cared for peacefully; why should they worry?”
After returning home, Wang immediately moved his family to the Chen residence, treating his parents with the same respect as he would his own brother. He gathered relatives and neighbors and reported Hao’s virtue to the authorities, resulting in an official commendation for her family, and her parents were given two bushels of rice per month. Three years later, Wang finished his mourning period and then arranged marriage. The couple diligently cared for each other. This continued for more than ten years, with his father passing away before his mother, fulfilling the duties of a son to the end, unwavering to the end. Alas, how virtuous! During the Jingtai era, it was heard that the Prince was still alive, but Zhou Yanbo had moved away many years ago, and the details of the Prince's later life were unknown. His name was also forgotten, a pity!
The Daoist Haiping said, "In ancient times, there was no shortage of filial sons, obedient grandsons, righteous husbands, and chaste women, but never have these three virtues been born into one family." At that time, the Prince was able to uphold Hao's chastity, but no one upheld the Prince's righteousness; this story is why it was written. Therefore, I inscribed it:
Heavenly principles are inherently good, human nature possesses the five constant virtues.
To oppose them is to be a thief, to follow them is to be loyal and virtuous.
In the span of a thousand years, we recall the virtuous legacy.
The Chen family had a filial son, serving his parents in their high hall.
The husband was careful and gentle, the wife diligently prepared meals.
Husband and wife were harmonious and obedient, like a pair of mandarin ducks.
One day, disaster struck, and he knew it would bring calamity.
Who could he rely on when his parents were old, who could he rely on when his wife was young?
His only true friend was Wang Sheng, righteous and upright.
My parents are your parents, my wife is your wife.
If this heart is truly at peace, lest the soul be wounded. Wang Sheng, with a golden promise, 　　pledged his hairpin
as a token of respect.
Chen Jun then closed his eyes in death, and Wang became his new groom. He set up an altar, weeping at the coffin, vowing his heartfelt sentiments. 　　Friends are of the highest order, though foolish, they are not dogs or sheep. 　　Everyone agreed on this auspicious occasion, without considering any other details. 　　Unexpectedly, at the time of the burial, Hao Shi was overcome with grief. 　　She threw herself beside the coffin, her neck blood soaking her clothes. 　　Her parents were as if they had lost their lives, and everyone was terrified. 　　Wang Sheng alone felt joy, raising his hand to move the heavens. 　　He reopened Chen Zi's coffin and buried him beside her husband. 　　He moved his house to serve Chen's parents, observing the three-year mourning period. 　　He petitioned the authorities for official recognition and support, bringing glory 　　to his family. After the mourning period, he married and cared for his parents. He fulfilled 　　his filial duties in life and continued the ancestral rites in death. 　　Alas, Chen Hou was virtuous, his accumulated virtue bringing auspicious omens. 　　His friend was a unicorn among beasts, his wife a phoenix among birds. 　　He proclaimed righteousness on behalf of Heaven and established moral order for humanity. 　　Three righteous men from one family, their fame will last forever. 　　In future years, when they meet the Grand Historian, their names will shine brightly in the annals of history. ( 　　Jia Sheng, acting as scribe ) 　　Jia Sheng, whose given name was Ru and courtesy name was Pizhi, was a native of Tai'an Prefecture, Shandong. He was learned and intelligent, versed in all kinds of books, histories, and arts. Although he was praised in his hometown, he never achieved official success, and passed away in his forties, feeling disheartened. He reflected that he had pursued fame and fortune past his prime; was this not fate? He then ceased to care, bought land south of the city to prepare for his old age. He spent his days inviting friends to play Go, or traveling to scenic spots, singing and laughing wildly, living a carefree and unrestrained life. 　　One day, he and his friends visited the Tianqi Palace on Mount Tai, viewing it from the two corridors. When Shi was drunk, he saw a god glaring angrily and said, "Impulsive and inhumane. He should be dismissed." He saw a clay figure of a woman among the gods and said, "Lewd and immoral, he should be demoted." A red-faced god said, "He loves wine." A figure with outstretched hands said, "He accepts money." His madness was boundless, and his friends laughed uproariously. When they arrived at the Department of Commerce, Shi went straight to the altar and sat down, laughing, "This department is in charge of the gold, silver, jewels, grain, and silk of the human world. You friends are all disciples of the sages, knowledgeable in ancient and modern times, well-versed in classics and history. You could be prime ministers or governors, yet none of you have a single grain of rice to spare, and you are often plagued by hunger and cold. I am now acting as the judge of the Department of Commerce. You may come and plead with me, and see if I can handle it!" The crowd rebuked him, saying, "Although you claim to be foolish and straightforward, how can you be disrespectful to the position of the gods!" Amidst the laughter and banter, he suddenly collapsed and could not rise. He could not be helped up, and as dusk approached, the crowd spat and cursed him as they left. 　　Just after the first watch, Bi Zhi awoke. Looking around, he saw moonlight streaming through the door, crickets chirping on the steps, a chilling wind blowing through the still night, and the surrounding area silent. In the moonlight, he saw rows of earthen and wooden ghosts standing guard on either side. Bi Zhi, realizing the night was deep and the temple gates were closed, had no way to return home. Feigning drunkenness, he called out, "The ghostly officials of the Commerce Department are ignorant; why are you not lighting candles for our distinguished guest?" This was merely a way to alleviate the loneliness. Suddenly, a ghost placed a lamp on the table. Bi Zhi, no longer afraid, was pleased. Then he asked, "Is there tea?" Another ghost brought a bowl of tea. 　　A short while later, two ghosts placed a door panel on the window, knelt, and said, "Please, sir, take a nap." Bi Zhi straightened his clothes, went to bed, and slept. He asked the ghosts, “I am a poor scholar living near the well. Although I have studied and learned etiquette, my family is poor and I have been rejected by officials and despised by my neighbors. Even my relatives and friends do not pity me, and my wife and children sometimes resent me. I have never met you before, and we are in different realms of the living and the dead. There are no officials or powerful figures around me to offer me the title of ‘sir’ and the hospitality of tea and a couch. How could I possibly accept such treatment?” One ghost stepped forward and said, “The underworld is different from the mortal world. A true gentleman is respected even in poverty and lowliness; a hypocritical and deceitful person is not treated with respect even by a high-ranking official. You are a man of great virtue. Even I, your judge, should kneel before you, let alone a lowly official like myself.” He said, “That is fortunate. But where is your judge? How can we not meet him?” The official said, “Speaking of your judge, it is quite a disturbance.” 　　He asked in surprise, “What do you mean?” The official said, “Your judge…” Last night, you drank too much with old friends and are too drunk to get up. This morning, the two officials in this office, Qian and Mi, argued over the right to trade, each submitting a petition to the Emperor. An imperial decree was issued to this office, ordering them to investigate the matter and resolve it promptly. The envoy will surely come to collect the case after midnight tonight. Although the two officials are imprisoned, no one is questioning them. If the envoy comes to question us, how will we respond? The official replied, “If this is the case, although I lack the learning of Shen Buhai and Han Fei, I am quite familiar with the articles of the law. If I can gain your trust, perhaps I can understand the facts and resolve the case.” The official said, “That’s good, but you are dressed in tattered clothes, your hat is torn, and your shoes are worn. Not only will you not submit, but you will also be ridiculed.” The official said, “If I were to lend you your official robes and tablet, I would wear them and sit at the table. You would all have to serve me respectfully, and I would be able to deceive you.” The official said, “Good.” He then took the robes and tablet and gave them to the official to wear, and the official sat at the table. However, the ghost official was tall and imposing with a thick beard and handsome features. The ghost officials, observing him, laughed and said, "Even we, the Judge, do not possess such majesty." 　　They then ordered the officers to bring two imprisoned ghosts to the table and make them kneel. One officer stepped forward, holding a golden tablet, and said, "This morning, Mount Tai issued a talisman ordering the interrogation of this prisoner. We humbly beg for divine judgment." The tablet was made of gold, about six or seven inches in size, and the characters were all in seal script, illegible. The ghost official received the tablet, raised his eyes, lowered his head, and examined it from top to bottom, as if reading aloud. Having read it, a resounding bell rang, and the sun shone brightly. The question was asked: "What is the matter you, Jin, have accused? What is the content of your complaint, Mi, that you dare to overstep your bounds and offend Mount Tai, causing us to issue this decree and send an envoy, disturbing our records? If your accusation is reasonable, you may be pardoned; if not, you will certainly not be easily forgiven." 　　One prisoner, with a snake's body, a round face, wearing a crown adorned with precious jewels and bearing the characters "Kaiyuan," with a rustling copper odor and a clanging metallic sound, prostrated himself on the ground and cried out his innocence: "My surname is Jin, and I am from Jiangsha in Lishui. My ancestors descended from Taihao, and my grandfather's name was Rushou. He was in charge of the West, belonging to the Five Elements, and held official positions. One of my ancestors was named Kuang, who produced gold and silver. Our lineage began in the Xia and Shang dynasties, continuing through the Zhou and Han dynasties, and our clan gradually multiplied. We had names for knives, cloth, coins, and currency, and related documents..." This is a document concerning the exchange of currency. Those close to the clan possess lead, mercury, copper, and tin; guests possess rare and precious items; slaves possess brocade and silk. All contribute to the enrichment of the nation and the benefit of the people, facilitating the exchange of what is lacking. It alleviates poverty and hardship, assists the distressed and aids the vulnerable, proclaims the benevolent influence of Heaven, and opens doors to prosperity for all. It is accepted by all nations and used by all people. Since the time of our ancestors, this has been a dedicated function of trade, a responsibility that will remain unchanged for ten thousand years. Recently, however, the ignorant and uncultured people of a small town in Shandong, who value their appetites above all else, are enamored with rare and precious things, only knowing how to haggle and measure, not how to weigh and distribute. They chase after currency to other states, exchanging it for grain within their own borders. They hoard their money in bottles and strings, risking the destruction of pots and mirrors; they stuff their paper money in bags and walls, risking the burning of wounds. Some are greedy and greedy, humbly beseeching Your Majesty to grant them leniency and benefit.

Then came another prisoner, dressed in brown with a sharp head, his steps measured and deliberate, his appearance dignified and benevolent. He bowed twice and pleaded, “My surname is Gu, my given name is Liang, my courtesy name is Guoxu, and I am a native of Jingtian in Longzhou. My ancestor, He, lived a secluded life, surrounded by weeds and wild vegetables. I was fortunate enough to be employed during the reign of Shennong and offered sacrifices during the reign of Suiren, thus being appointed to the position of Master of Destiny. Throughout successive dynasties, this position has always been highly valued. When worshipping Heaven and Earth, we offer nothing but millet, sorghum, rice, and glutinous rice; when praying to ghosts and gods, we use neither gold nor silver. For the sake of the people, for the sake of Heaven…” The lives of the people are a legacy encompassing heaven and earth; enriching the nation's resources and reserves, this name endures through the ages. In years of historical renown, when the government lamented famine, the three armies relied on my valor, and countless households earned their official titles through my influence. This place, located on the outskirts of the capital, is traditionally known for its frugality and modesty. Therefore, we discarded those extravagant and presumptuous resources, using them to benefit the world and protect the people. Yet, they fabricated accusations and slanders, defaming the court.
The two prisoners were brought back, and the judge, enraged, ordered his ghostly soldiers to seize a thousand copper hammers from the man surnamed Jin and release the man surnamed Gu. He unfolded the cloud-patterned paper, wielded his giant brush, and pronounced judgment:
"Of all things under heaven, human beings are the most precious; of all things that nourish life, food is the first priority. Rice, in particular, is crucial to the safety and well-being of the people, and its availability is directly related to the prosperity and decline of the nation. Your world depends on the nation, your nation depends on the people, and your people depend on food. Considering this, the benefits of rice are self-evident. As for metal, it represents the harsh and inhumane energy of heaven and earth, the contradictory and volatile nature of yin and yang. It takes the form of a tiger, its nature is fierce and killing, its season is autumn, and its musical note corresponds to the Shang tone. In the sky, it is frost, which withers and empties vegetation; on earth, it is war, which stirs up dust and turmoil. Therefore, the sages of the past knew its aversion to activity and thus crafted it into commodities." To facilitate trade and fulfill their desires, thus avoiding further calamities. Even when useful, these things can still harm the masses. Adorning hats and casting seals corrupts the image of noble hermits; making hairpins and earrings diminishes the virtue of chaste women. Military generals are defeated because of this, and civil officials deceive the public. It emboldens corrupt officials and stirs up the desires of thieves and murderers. It doesn't address the poor, but forces them to frantically seek a thousand ways to survive; it only flatters the wealthy, causing them to hoard countless treasures. Some fight over a single coin, leading to fatalities; others cross mountains and rivers, only to perish in remote lands. It destroys the bond of brotherhood and the loyalty of friends and classmates. It leads to the loss of business acumen. Loyalty and trustworthiness are unreliable; bribery and treachery bring success. Shi Chong's Golden Valley, unexpectedly, was suddenly executed. Dong Gong's □wu, unexpectedly, was humiliated and killed. Yuan Zai, a hereditary official, was a nameless corrupt official, what benefit did he bring? He could be said to have known the opportune moment. De Yu was stubbornly deluded. Accumulated wealth was insufficient; Yue Yang listened to advice, discarding it like dung without shame. Noble as the lotus of Emperor Chen Houzhu, despicable as the chamber pot of King Meng of Shu. Dou Shen was known as the magpie; Wang Lu was imprisoned, summoning the howl of a startled snake. Wang Rong's tally tablets were tireless; Xiahou's bamboo shoots determined the Spring and Autumn Annals. Chen Wei's greed and Cui Lie's copper stench, their actions shamefully inciting the shame of Zheng □, circling the bed. This angered Wang Yan. Not only should our ancestors be cautious, but future generations should also know this. Pasting gold ingots deceives ghosts and gods; cutting paper money insults heaven and earth. Even being ground to powder cannot atone for their crimes, yet even grasping their hair cannot fully capture their sins. If one wishes to grind them into dust, they can still emerge from the sea; if one wishes to shred them into fine powder, they might harm people if added to wine. Though their filth and evil were unknown in their time, their punishment cannot escape today. The one surnamed Gu should be treated leniently, and the one surnamed Jin should be judged according to the law. Each should provide their own confession, and the judgment should be made according to the law. The case
should be submitted to Mount Tai and presented with a solemn talisman.” After the judgment was completed, the judge of the court, having sobered up, heard the reason and hurriedly went out to meet Pi Zhi, receiving him with utmost hospitality. The judge thanked Pi Zhi for his expedient act of judging on his behalf and for failing to greet him due to his drunkenness. Pi Zhi also apologized for his transgression in assuming divine authority and for his usurpation of the underworld's governance. They exchanged pleasantries, their faces radiating sincerity and courtesy. The judge then ordered wine and food, and they drank and conversed freely until dawn.
For example, he left while drunk, and upon returning home, he remained in a drunken stupor for a day before waking. He recounted the whole story to others, who were all astonished.
Later, when he was nearly ninety, he left his wife and children to go to Qingluo Island to gather herbs and never returned. Some people thought he had ascended to heaven. The
Biography of Marquis Dongqiu :
Marquis Dongqiu, surnamed Hua, named Yun, courtesy name Shize, was a resident of Huaiyuan County, Haozhou. His ancestors were a family of officials from the former Song Dynasty, but his grandfather chose to live a life of farming and did not serve in office. His father, Fang, was a scholar and a man of propriety, and gathered students to teach at home. One day, he was inexplicably killed by the ruthless Liu San at the age of three. His mother, Yuan, took him to the authorities, but the officials refused to listen and instead imprisoned him. At that time, the Yuan government was in chaos, right and wrong were reversed, and bribery was rampant. The injustice suffered by mother and son could not be redressed. Moreover, years of famine made survival impossible, so his mother remarried to a woman surnamed Zhang. Ten years later, his mother died unjustly, filled with resentment and anger, at the age of thirteen. His mourning and funeral were conducted with the respect due to an adult, earning him great respect in the village.
Three years later, Hou was sixteen years old, still determined to avenge his father. His stepfather advised him, "That Liu San is a vicious man, possessing the courage of many, and has a large following. If you were to attack him, it would be like a dog trying to subdue a tiger; you would only lose your life and achieve nothing." Hou then stopped. However, he wept and prayed to Heaven and Earth day and night.
Two years later, Hou was eighteen years old. One night, he dreamed of a divine being who gave him an iron tablet, about three inches long, saying, "Eat this. You will have divine strength." Hou then knelt down and chewed it. Upon waking, his teeth ached for days. He tested his strength and found it to be extraordinary. He could uproot large trees, carry live oxen on his shoulders, cross rivers with carts, or drag boats ashore. His fame spread far and wide, and he was hailed as having divine strength. In the year of Gui-Si, the world was in chaos. Liu San and his gang of ruffians murdered the county magistrate and seized the city. Hou knew the situation was untenable, so he told his stepfather, "I wish to take down these villains directly; it would be as easy as turning my hand. But I fear that if I act, you will be without protection, and there may be negligence, which would be a great act of filial impiety. I have recently heard that a sage has risen up in Linhao, rescuing the people from danger without killing or alarming them, and ascending the Spring Terrace. Why don't I go and join him? Since you have entrusted me with this task, my wish will be fulfilled." His father was pleased and went with him.
Upon arriving at the main camp, Hou met Xu Gong and was greatly pleased with their conversation. He recommended Hou to the emperor. Hou was summoned and explained his situation. The emperor said, "Now that you claim you can take Huaiyuan, how many men will you need? When will you be able to take it?" Hou bowed twice and said, "I do not need the heavenly army. Please allow me to go alone. I will go tonight and bring it back tomorrow morning." The emperor laughed and sent him away.
Hou had no armor, so he begged a knife from Xu Gong and set off under cover of night. He arrived at Huaiyuan at the fourth watch of the night and then scaled the city walls. Once inside, they hid in the shadows. At dawn, they scaled the wall and entered the government office, whereupon they bound Liu and brought him out, shouting to the crowd, "Marshal Xu's army is near! Anyone who dares to follow the rebels will be executed!" Those who had been coerced into joining them all came to their aid, and they bound Liu San and about ten of his accomplices, carrying them back to camp.
After presenting the captives, they led the officials to report the amount of soldiers, civilians, money, and grain. The emperor smiled and said to Xu Gong, "You not only know his talent, but also his heart. This man is no less than a famous general of the past." He then ordered Hou Chang to stand guard in front of his tent, and gave Liu San to Hou, allowing him to report back. Hou then bound Liu outside the camp, set up a memorial tablet for his father, personally cut out Liu San's heart, and wept bitterly as a sacrifice. The onlookers were thronged, all deeply moved. At that time, all the nearby cities had fallen, except for Quanjiao and Miaojiazhai, which, together, resisted the imperial army. Hou requested thirty soldiers, climbed the hill at night, set fire to it, and made a commotion. The rebels fled in disarray, countless were captured and killed, and the entire city fell.
The general was about to capture Chuzhou, but he was unsure of its strength. Hou volunteered to be the vanguard. Midway, he abandoned his main force and advanced alone. Encountering several thousand enemy soldiers, Hou charged into the fray with his long spear, shouting orders, and the enemy collapsed. He pursued them to the city walls, where the main army followed, and they captured the city in one fell swoop. In the Jiawu year, Hezhou was captured; in the Yiwei year, they crossed the river from Shang, with Hou leading his men to seize the south bank first. In the Bingshen year, Jiqing was captured, and Zhenjiang, Danyang, Dantu, and Jintan counties were conquered—all thanks to Hou's extraordinary achievements. Reaching Matuosha, they heard that a notorious bandit was lurking there. Hou led only thirty men, abandoning their boats, to investigate, only to be ambushed and surrounded by the bandits. Hou fought them off for three days and nights, until the bandits were defeated and fled, with hundreds captured and killed. He also captured Changzhou and Changshu, taking tens of thousands of prisoners in total.
That autumn, he attacked Ningguo, but was trapped in a mountainous area surrounded by enemy camps on all sides. Hou led only eighty men. He charged in and out for eight days, killing and capturing thousands, without being hit by a single arrow. At that time, Hou rose to the rank of General of Anyuan and was in charge of the Privy Council. On the day of Sihai, Hou was ordered to lead 3,000 troops to garrison Taiping. At that time, the area was frequently ravaged by war, the people had fled, the granaries were empty, trade was impossible, officials had no grain, and the people had no food. There were no supplies from outside, aid was difficult to obtain, and the enemy was close by. Hou then repaired the ruins and restored order, and brought in barter.
After only half a year, the army of Chen Youliang, the self-proclaimed Han, swept down the river, their banners invisible. Hou climbed the river platform and laughed, saying, "This is my time to serve my country. I only regret that there is not enough grain." He then led his 3,000 elite troops and rowed straight ahead. The battle lasted for a while, with both sides winning and losing. Hou withdrew his troops and returned to defend the river mouth. The enemy, knowing that Hou had no reinforcements, built hundreds of boats into a water fortress and anchored it in the river, facing Hou. They attacked in shifts with their warships, preventing Hou from resting. After five days, Hou secretly sent small boats to set fire to their water fortress at night. Hou then used his fleet to attack with great fanfare, and the enemy was defeated and fled. Ten days later, the bandits regrouped and formed ranks to resist, but they did not engage in naval battles. Hou began to suspect them. At that time, the city had been without food for half a month, so Hou slaughtered all his warhorses to reward his soldiers, demonstrating his determination to fight to the death.
Three days later, the bandits, with 7,000 infantry, secretly left the city from Jiashan and descended from the high ground, causing the city to fall. Hou knew that all was lost. He then led his naval forces to attack the bandit camp directly. The bandits surrounded Hou in the river with their warships, secretly sending skilled swimmers to sink Hou's boats. Hou found shallow water, but the bandits surrounded him again. Hou's spear broke, and he used a bandit as a shield. By chance, a stray arrow struck Hou in a vital spot, and he was bound and carried to their leader. Hou regained consciousness, roared in anger, and all the ropes broke. He rose, seized a bandit's sword, and killed dozens of men. The bandit leader was also seriously wounded and fled. The bandits could not withstand him and feigned surrender. Hou, unaware of their deception, stopped the killing and explained the consequences to Hou. A bandit secretly struck Hou on the head with an iron mace from behind, causing him to fall. The crowd then severed Hou's arm, hung him from the mast, and shot him. Hou cursed incessantly until his death. The Duke still had a thousand men under his command, all of whom died in battle; not one surrendered. This was the 28th day of the intercalary fifth month of the Gengzi year.
First, as the city was about to fall, Lady Gao, the wife of the Marquis, offered a libation to the family temple and said to her family, "My husband is a loyal and filial man. If things fail, he will surely die for his country. Will I be the only one to live? This child is only three years old. How can we let the Hua family be without an heir? You must protect him." Soon after, the city fell, and Lady Gao threw herself into a well and died. Her family members either drowned or hanged themselves, and dozens of them died with her. Only her concubine, Lady Sun, survived. She collected Lady Gao's body and buried it beside a paulownia tree in the courtyard. She took two gold hairpins, one to adorn Lady Gao's head and the other to adorn herself, and then carried her child and fled. As she was about to leave the city, she was captured by Han soldiers and taken back to Wuchang. When they arrived at the puppet capital, the camp raided the city every night, which some said was caused by the captives crying at night. The commander forbade keeping children in his army. A soldier of Lady Sun wanted to abandon the child in the lake, but Lady Sun said to the soldier, "Instead of killing my child in vain, it would be better to sell him to someone else, and you will get money." The soldier was pleased and sold the child to a fisherman. Sun secretly observed the residence of the rebel leader and visited it frequently.
That winter, the army attacked the false Han, and the Han rebels in the surrounding counties all collapsed. Taking advantage of the chaos, Sun sneaked into a fisherman's house, stole the child, and escaped. She encountered Han soldiers several times, but managed to hide and escape each time. When she reached the river, she rented a boat with her hairpin, but then encountered Han soldiers who stole the boat and threw her into the river. Sun, carrying the child, found a broken piece of wood and drifted to the shore, hiding in a reed islet. She fed the child with lotus seeds, and he did not die for seven days. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, she heard voices calling her and met an old man who called himself Old Lei, who then guided her on her journey.
In the second month of the following year, Xin Chou, she arrived at the imperial court. Sun was overwhelmed with grief, held the child, and bowed twice. The emperor also wept, placed the child on his lap, and said, "This is a general's son." He bestowed upon Old Lei clothes and wanted to reinstate his corvée labor. Suddenly, Old Lei disappeared and could not be found. At that time, the child was eight years old and was ordered to serve the crown prince in his studies. At the age of thirteen, he was appointed as the deputy commander of the Right Tiger Guard. Seven years later, he was named Wei and appointed Commander of the Left Guard of the Navy.
In the seventh year of Hongwu's reign, Wei, along with Lady Sun, went to Taiping and searched for Lady Sun's remains beside a paulownia tree. The gold hairpin she wore was still there, perfectly preserved. After verification, there was nothing amiss, so they brought the remains back. They bound a cattail with a coffin and buried them together. The Hanlin Academician Song Lian wrote the epitaph: "
Clouds and thunder met, dividing the world; a true man was born to govern heaven and earth. Riding a dragon, whipping thunder down from the heavenly gate; front, flanks, and rear guards surged like clouds. Who was the most valiant General Hua, driving with strength and wisdom against ten thousand enemies? He trampled the bandits like deer. With broadswords and long halberds at his side, he charged with lightning speed, his scarlet robes and black caps like fierce tigers. He halted his horse to drink from the river, the waters muddy; the land of Wu and Yue was shrouded in murderous aura. He drew the Milky Way to wash away the evil spirits; the sound of his army thundered like lightning." Those who suffered were terrified and crouched on their knees. The commander-in-chief established his headquarters on the banks of the great river, his military tally at his waist commanding respect. Controlling the upper reaches, he became the vassal of the nation; the false Han, relying on force, sought no survival. Flags were raised and sails unfurled, a campaign against the invaders. Warships covered the river, and rescuers were swiftly brought in. The soldiers were slaughtered, their morale boosted. He rode swiftly, overseeing the battle, disregarding his own safety, as the enemy's flames burned like a raging fire. The battle raged for three days, the momentum growing ever stronger. He charged alone, teeth clenched. His anger surged, his breath like smoke. "You vicious, stubborn dogs and pigs! I wish to devour your flesh in one gulp!" The enemy, ashamed, could not bear to hear him, and refused to yield even in death to repay the nation's kindness. He soared on the clouds, knocking on the imperial gates, pleading to become a vengeful ghost to strangle the enemy. The enemy should be executed to clear his name; the emperor issued an edict praising his loyalty. He was enfeoffed as a marquis in Dongqiu, his descendants honored in the netherworld. The orphan was protected and his descendants flourished, his ancestral sacrifices preserved by Heaven. Born a martyr, died a sage; his spirit shines brightly in Heaven… Alas, come and behold your myriad descendants, continue the tradition of loyalty and filial piety, and never forget it. If you do not believe, please consult the historian's writings.
A Record of Viewing Lanterns in Guangling
In the sixth year of the Zhizheng era, the empire was at peace, and customs were extravagant, with each of the eight festivals having its own tradition. Every Lantern Festival, lanterns were displayed, and the lanterns of Guangling were the finest in the land. At that time, Yu Lun, a student from this region, was learned and upright, possessing a remarkable ambition to excel and serve the Way. He and two or three friends were strolling through the city. Someone said, "The lanterns at Tianning Temple are exceptionally beautiful." So they went there. Upon arrival
, they entered the temple gate, passed through the front hall to the back hall, but there was not a single unusual lantern. The group laughed, saying, "Nonsense! These are just idlers who saw men and women mingling here and gave them to us." They then walked along the two corridors. They saw that the monks' quarters were deep and secluded, with winding passages, multiple doors, and beds intertwined, allowing for easy movement and avoidance. He saw several women, some with children, some with their mothers, some sitting, some strolling, some talking, some eating, and he was filled with astonishment.
He inquired of the monks, who said, "She is the daughter of my senior brother's godmother, and the aunt of my Dharma brother's sworn sister-in-law. They are just keeping me company." He secretly asked a young boy, who said, "This is the concubine of a certain official, and this is the widow of a certain respectable family." He asked, "If that's true, how do they know the monks?" The boy laughed and said, "They're just like the matchmakers; why wouldn't they recognize each other?" Upon hearing this, he clenched his fists, his eyelashes bristling, and stamped his feet, exclaiming, "Heavens! Heavens! How cruelly have these barbarian gods corrupted our morals!" He then raised his fists and clenched his fists, intending to strike them, but was pulled away by the other visitors. Reaching the temple gate, he picked up a piece of tile, wrote a poem on the wall, and left in a huff. The poem read: "
Destroying moral order and initiating heresy, a hundred and a thousand kinds of grotesque and bizarre forms.
Adorned with gold and jade, their idols squander the lives of the people."
A virtuous woman was deceived in a dark hut, a foolish man received precepts in simple clothes.
The monks, though wicked, went unpunished, and he began to believe that the heavens could easily deceive.
Walking slightly north of the market bridge, a sudden gale arose, dust and debris swirling like thunder, extinguishing all the streetlights, making visibility impossible even for short distances. His companions were all lost. In the darkness, two figures appeared, one grabbing his hair, the other pulling him from behind, refusing to allow him to explain, their grip swift and powerful. The man angrily said, "You're nothing but a constable! On this Lantern Festival, when everyone is on the street, how dare you act so disrespectfully!" The two replied, "Don't be angry, you'll see for yourself when we get there."
Upon arriving, they found themselves before the Vajra statue at Tianning Temple, which they had visited earlier. Turning back, they realized the two figures were ghosts. They forced him to kneel. The man stood with one foot forward and one foot back, fists clenched, belly raised, eyes wide, teeth chattering, refusing to kneel. The Vajra rebuked him, and the man rebuked him in return. The Vajra cursed him, and the man cursed him in return. The Vajra said, "Who are you, defying the gods like this?" He was sent to the prison of the plowshare. The master laughed and said, “You barbarian slave, how dare you presume to call yourself a deity to frighten me? I should not have spoken to you, but I am trapped by you and cannot remain silent. I will now throw your Buddha into the fray. Since you claim to be a protector of the Dharma, a henchman of your Buddha, and have received the grace of his protection, you should fulfill your duty as a cricket. You should carefully observe the precepts, rewarding the good and punishing the evil, as this is your duty. Yet you allow your monks to drink alcohol and eat meat, indulging in lewdness and evil, thus plunging your Buddha into injustice. I, with my honest words of lamentation, dare to yield to you. If you are to protect the weak and tolerate the wicked, lightly offending gentlemen, what kind of prison should you be sent to?”
Then Vajra closed his eyes, shook his head, and, with palms raised, spoke in a righteous tone, saying, “Excellent, excellent! My teachings are not being followed, is it because of people like this?” The master continued, “Since you can do nothing to me, you have wronged me to this extent. Where do you place me?” His anger and curses intensified. The Vajra said, “Just now, King Yama was on his way to the Lantern Festival and passed by my temple. Upon seeing your excellent work, he was furious and wanted to seize it. However, he was short of attendants and borrowed two of us ghost soldiers to summon you. Although I have humbled myself, I dare not let you go. You are eloquent, but you will find it difficult to escape and will surely suffer for the rest of your life.” Knowing he could not escape, Lun went with the two ghosts. After about ten li, the atmosphere grew increasingly dark, and the road became increasingly strange. It was as bleak as a night of wind and rain, as quiet as the autumn chill under the setting moon. Lun wept. He was also shocked and said, “A great man establishes worldly teachings and upholds moral principles with his honest words and arguments. What need is there for the difficulties of life and death, or the longing of wife and children!” After
another ten li, they arrived at the temple. There, the palace was magnificent, the halls were solemn, the officials and soldiers were lined up, and the ghost judges served at the steps. The two ghosts carried Lun and bowed to His Majesty. A ghost reported, "I have been ordered to pursue and report back to the scholar Yu Lun, who slandered Buddhism." After a long while, the emperor said, "Did you write Yu Lun?" He replied, "Yes." The emperor then asked, "Did you write the poem on the wall? Who wrote it?" He replied, "I did." The emperor said, "You are a Confucian scholar, studying books and practicing etiquette, discussing the ways of sages and worthies, yet you have gone against the benevolence of sages and worthies. Confucius, a sage, was still respected and kept at a distance, and was never otherwise criticized. Who are you to dare to slander and blaspheme like this!" He then ordered the ghost soldiers to bind him and send him to the prison of the plowshare.
Upon hearing the order, Lun, standing on the ground, cried out, "My crimes should not be pardoned, but the law has its own reasons, and I beg for leniency. If the divine court sees justice and distinguishes right from wrong, then even if I am ground to dust, I will accept it willingly. But if there is favoritism and bias, and Lun is allowed to live a hundred years, what good will it do for the world?" The emperor said, "Try to present your arguments. Your words may be acceptable, and your manners may be accommodating. If they are not satisfactory, then the punishment will be even more severe." He ordered Lun to be released from his bonds and gave him paper and pen. Lun sat on the steps as a table, picked up the pen, and wrote without a single correction, completing the essay in one stroke. He said:
"The Buddha is the heir of a barbarian chieftain from the west. He abandoned his ruler and parents, created his own doctrine of returning to the norm, turned his back on heaven and earth, and opened the door to the destruction of the foundation. His words and clothes are different, he is jealous of the three cardinal guides and corrupts the five constant virtues; he imprisons himself and exposes his body, defiling ten thousand generations with one person. To taint future generations is like throwing them into a latrine; to deceive and mislead the foolish is like being punished by heaven." Wooden figures and clay idols, a thousand strange shapes; jade boxes and gold seals, ten thousand scrolls of false books. Moreover, later Buddhists, knowing their doctrines are absurd and baseless, despised by scholars and officials, still embellish them, fabricating demonic spirits. They claim those who follow them ascend to the highest heaven, while those who slander them fall into the deepest hell. Furthermore, the foolish worshippers of Buddha are utterly laughable. They cultivate karma and painstakingly build relationships. They build temples and pagodas, not hoping for a better afterlife; they scatter rice and give alms, expecting wealth in future lives. The sheer scale of their offerings and the extravagance of their sacrifices are truly disheartening. Their golden and resplendent temples resemble palaces; their deep, secluded gates make their monks' quarters look like government offices. And then there are the fabricated Ullambana Festivals on the eighth day of the fourth month and the fifteenth day of the seventh month, where a single dish costs a thousand ingots of silver, and a single offering exceeds the wealth of a hundred families, squandering the people's resources and jeopardizing the teachings of the world.
Those who become monks are all idlers. Some are stubborn commoners avoiding official duties, others are deserters shirking military service. Some take their leave of absence because of a murder, others hide among thieves. They leave their fathers to seek teachers, betraying family and righteousness, abandoning the sacred robes and hats, adopting the mannerisms of barbarians, shaving their heads, displaying a hundred different mannerisms. They are skilled at speaking, their voices hushed and feminine; they are adept at making faces, their slow gait behaving like that of a non-man. They bow their heads and clasp their hands, coaxing the foolish to awaken their hearts to Buddhism; they bulge their eyes and pinch their shoulders, inciting women to lust. They preach and expound scriptures like they are recruiting servants; they hold gatherings and feasts like they are opening a brothel for prostitutes. They treat the simpletons as enlightened, like strict servants; they treat adulterous women as their wives and children who do not burden them. Their answers to Zen questions and debates are sharper than those of cunning disciples; their witty recitations and jokes are more skillful than those of a clown.
To be a monk in a sect is to be a regular monk within the sect, hoping to find a place to stay for the benefactors. Brothers and sisters, regardless of gender, are not addressed as such; godparents, sworn brothers, are only severed for certain reasons. Wives outside the temple are falsely called sisters, aunts, or uncles; children raised in the temple are simply called nephews or disciples. They solicit donations and offer alms with every means possible; they recommend dishes and serve tea with a thousand enticements. They dislike rich and delicious food, preferring bland and tasteless fare; they enter into people's homes, defiling respectable families and causing gossip; they ordain and hold ceremonies, wasting precious time and resources. They contribute nothing to the nation, nor offer any means of peace or assistance to the people. They do not cultivate the land yet their kitchens are filled with delicacies; they do not weave yet their shelves are overflowing with fine silks. The filth of the world is difficult to eradicate, the infamy of the heavens cannot be washed away. They willingly condone wickedness, with no restraint from the law. Their sins overflow throughout history, their right and wrong remain unchanged throughout the ages. Everyone dies of old age, so where is the cycle of retribution? This is my true feeling, hence my fierce anger. I have uttered these useless, rambling words, incurring the inescapable punishment of those who oppose me. I humbly beseech you to illuminate my foolish heart and humbly seek your wise judgment.
After Chen Bi finished speaking, he held his breath and bowed, awaiting divine judgment. He heard the emperor say, "Your argument may seem reasonable, but you lack a detailed understanding of Buddhism. If I do not explain it to you in detail, I fear that future scholars will be misled by one side and lose sight of the true meaning. Listen carefully: Buddha is the god of the distant southwestern barbarians. The barbarians of that land, influenced by the metal element of heaven and earth, are hot-tempered and lack benevolence, always carrying knives. When angered, even their closest relatives and loved ones will stand before them with blades, oblivious to the duties of ruler and subject, father and son, men and women, and the order of seniority. They live like birds and eat like beasts, living in groups of hundreds or thousands." They have no fixed abode in this world, living alongside animals. They survive by terror and fright, their purpose by battle, cruelly killing and disregarding life, regarding it as worthless as grass. How could they possibly understand human morality? Generally, Heaven abhors killing and cherishes life; after the worst comes the best. Righteous energy may gather, and by chance, a person is born, named Buddha. He painstakingly reforms their nature, transforming their stubbornness with compassion, and eliminating their cruelty with forbearance. If Heaven did not transform them according to their nature, but instead promoted the teachings of Buddhism, it would be difficult. Military strategy says, "Use barbarians to attack barbarians," this is the meaning. Buddha's achievements are great in his country; in China, he may be considered foolish. Resolving their evil thoughts and fostering a little forbearance is still a small contribution. Now, in discussing Buddha, although I have not grasped the true meaning, regarding the faults of those who worship Buddha and the wrongdoings of monks, there is indeed a heart that hates evil and assists the world. Merits and demerits correspond, right and wrong are two separate things. "Then he ordered the ghosts to escort Lun back home, adding twelve years to his lifespan. Lun was overjoyed, his heart brimming with happiness. He bowed twice, danced, and thanked them before leaving.
Upon reaching the gate, he begged the two ghosts, 'Now that I have returned home, I cannot return. I would like to trouble you two brothers to take me to see where the monks who violated the precepts are punished. Is that alright?' The two ghosts agreed and led Lun to the prison. There he saw that the various departments were using extremely cruel tortures. The limbs of the tortured were torn apart, blood and flesh were dripping, and their cries of injustice shook the heavens, a sight too gruesome to bear. He also saw a yellow light stretching across the sky to the left of the prison, within which were people dressed in proper attire, slowly heading west. The ghost messengers pointed and said to Lun, 'These are all those who diligently uphold the precepts and have been reborn into heaven.' Lun said, 'The retribution for good and evil is known to be infallible. However, among these people on both paths, although there are differences in age and gender, half are monks, nuns, Taoist priests, and nuns, but not a single one is wearing Confucian robes or caps. Why is that?' The ghost messengers said, 'This is the illusion of form created by Buddhism, not the natural transformation of the primordial energy of heaven and earth.'" Even those of the four classes who do not follow Buddhism would not come to this, let alone Confucian scholars!
Lun was startled and said, "I have never believed in ghosts and gods, but now I have personally witnessed retribution. And you speak of the distinction between the great transformation and illusion, and the difference between those who are Confucian and those who are not. I am truly not clever, and I wish to hear your detailed explanation." The ghost messenger said, "The great transformation is the natural and righteous qi of heaven and earth, the origin of all things. The movement and stillness of qi is called yin and yang, the function of qi is called ghosts and gods, and the expansion and contraction of qi is called life and death." Zhang Zi said, "The Great Void cannot be without Qi, Qi cannot but gather into all things, and all things cannot but disperse back into the Great Void." This is the Great Transformation. The illusion is the cause and effect of the Buddhist cycle of reincarnation, truly arising from the clinging to attachments and the interaction of form and appearance. Our Buddha desires that they dispel this clinging and attachment, abandoning delusion and returning to truth. Sentient beings are deluded, clinging to this clinging. The gate of illusion was established by Buddhism.” The author said, “I am unworthy of the title of Confucian scholar, how could I have come to this conclusion!” The ghost messenger said, “You say that the monks have heavy karma and no retribution, and also say that retribution and reincarnation are nowhere to be found. Is this not clinging to attachments?” The author
then burst into laughter and awoke, recalling that he had returned drunk the previous night, harboring resentment, and had this strange dream. (From
Guan Jian Lu
) At the end of the Yuan Dynasty, the four directions were in turmoil, only Hebei was relatively peaceful. West of the Qingdu County government office lived a butcher named Wang, whose family had been butchers for generations, and who was known as a wicked young man. Whenever people talked about ghosts, gods, fortune, or misfortune, he would raise his belly, clench his fists, and hurl insults. There lived a man named Yu, nearly eighty years old, who was upright and honest, with a virtuous son and a wealthy family, respected throughout the county. Whenever he encountered Butcher Wang, he would repeatedly warn him against his violent ways and urge him to change his profession. Although Wang did not show anger, he always looked at him with disdain. Everyone else was different, but Yu was never discouraged.
One day, Butcher Wang died without illness, but revived the next day. He wept and told his family, “In my delirium, two men came and bound me, dragged me to the steps of a high-ranking official’s residence, and accused me of killing many lives, blaspheming the gods, and bullying the good. They stabbed me with knives like slaughtering a pig, and then threw me into boiling water. I could not bear the pain and awoke with a cry.” His family looked at him and found his body covered in festering sores, so filthy that it was unbearable to approach. He then said to his wife, “I have always deeply resented Yu Gong’s advice, for I did not heed his good words, and indeed I suffered a terrible calamity, almost losing my life. You must quickly go and beg Yu Gong to help me.”
His wife did as he said, and Yu Gong went to the butcher’s house, laughing and saying, “This is indeed your warning. Just follow my old and clumsy advice; there is no need to be overly afraid.” Thereupon, Wang the butcher burned incense and swore an oath to Heaven, completely repenting of his past misdeeds. He often fasted and sat in meditation, and within a few days, his illness was completely cured. When he encountered someone doing good deeds, he used all his wealth to help them; when he encountered someone doing evil, he tried his best to dissuade them. He carried soil to mend the road and drew water to give to those on the roadside. Although he did not engage in any other business, his family’s fortunes improved compared to before. The villagers called him Wang the Buddha.
Later, Yu Gong died at the age of ninety, and the Buddha also died at the age of ninety. People passed down the story as a result of karma. A kind-hearted person composed “Ten Poems on the Karma of Yu and Wang,” which were widely recited. The poems are as follows:

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