《太上感应篇》Vol. 3

Subhuti asked the Buddha (the World-Honored One): "When good men and good women bring forth the mind of unsurpassed, perfect and complete awakening (the mind that seeks awakening and attains the Buddha-way), how should they abide in this mind, and how should they subdue the delusive thoughts within it?"

The Buddha said, "Well said, well said. Those who bring forth the mind of unsurpassed, perfect and complete awakening should abide in it just as you describe, and subdue their minds in just this way."

When Subhuti heard this, he silently smiled and thought to himself: "What does 'just this way' really mean? Perhaps it means only that if I wish to subdue my mind, I can subdue it, and that is all. As for those who place others in peril in order to secure their own safety, could they possibly understand this principle? It is regrettable that they do not know that the entire Buddhist canon, and everything this sutra teaches, is ultimately about a single word: 'mind.' Yet now they wish to plunge others into danger so that they themselves may be at ease. Can this be called subduing one's own mind? Even if others truly fall into danger, will one truly be at peace? Such conduct often offends Heaven, and disaster will in the end fall upon oneself."

In the past, Wang Wenzheng (Wang Dan, a chief minister of the Northern Song) and Wang Jigong (Wang Qinruo, another chief minister of the Northern Song) served together at court. One day the emperor showed the officials of the two chancelleries a poem he had composed celebrating a welcome rain. Wang Dan rolled the scroll up, tucked it into his sleeve, and took it home. Afterward he asked his colleagues, "The emperor's poem has one character written incorrectly. Should we report it?" Wang Qinruo replied, "It is a trifling matter. It does not matter." Later, however, he reported the matter to the throne in private. The emperor was furious and the next day sharply rebuked Wang Dan: "Yesterday there was a character wrong in my poem. Why did you not report it?" Wang Dan and the officials beneath him all bowed in apology, except Ma Zhijie, who did not bow. He stated the facts plainly and praised Wang Dan, saying, "This is a true chief minister."

When Su Wenzhong (Su Shi, a Northern Song writer) was serving in Hangzhou, the emperor intended to employ him. Wang Yuyu (Wang Zhu, a Northern Song chief minister) said that one of Su Shi's poems contained the line "Only the hibernating dragon knows it." The implication, he argued, was that while the emperor was like a dragon ascending to the sky, Su Shi claimed that only a dormant dragon understood this. Was this not disrespectful to the sovereign? The emperor replied, "Since antiquity, many have been called dragons, such as the eight dragons of the Xun family and Zhuge Liang, the 'sleeping dragon.' Must one speak of a dragon only when discussing the ruler?"

After the court adjourned, Zhang Zihou (Zhang Dun, a Northern Song official) reproached Wang Yuyu: "Does the chief minister wish to bring ruin upon the entire household of Su Shi?" Wang Yuyu answered, "It was Shu Dan who said this." Zhang Zihou said, "Can Shu Dan's words be trusted?"

Alas, these men were all people who placed others in grave danger. Had the emperor not been discerning, both Wang Dan and Su Shi might have suffered serious calamity. They truly did not understand the principle described above.

Kan (The Abysmal) teaches through repeated exposure to peril, and Gu (Work on What Has Been Spoiled) rouses the people by setting right what has decayed. Jian (Obstruction) governs the state by rectifying its guiding principles, and Zhun (Difficulty at the Beginning) founds an enterprise through careful planning and management. A gentleman who finds himself in danger keeps his resolve fixed on benefiting others. Those who receive Heaven's help follow the correct course, and so the Dao (the Way) can extend itself far and wide. Wang Yan (an official of the Eastern Jin) arranged several avenues of retreat for himself, yet in the end those very arrangements cost him his life.

To benefit oneself by harming others.

An old book says: a person who reaches ten years of age still has the innocence of a child. After the capping ceremony at twenty, the coming-of-age rite for men in ancient times, one may sometimes look forward to achievement. If one has a future ahead, one should strive with vigor. If one lacks such good fortune, one inevitably wastes the years. Later come a wife and children, whose needs occupy the mind and whose household concerns weigh on the heart. Some people serve in government and are thrown into confusion by its endless affairs. Others busy themselves with profit and run about for the petty gains of the marketplace. Without realizing it, a person suddenly meets the end of his allotted span. At that point his hands are empty, and nothing can follow him. Even one whose power and influence were great in life cannot escape this.

Have you not heard the words of Chan Master Benjing? The Vice Minister Yang Jinqing asked Benjing, "Where does this body come from at birth, and where does it go at death?" The Master replied, "Where does a dream come from when one is dreaming? Where does it go when one wakes?" Yang asked, "What exactly is this?" The Master said, "While dreaming, one cannot say that nothing is there. Upon waking, one cannot say the dream was real. Although there is a distinction between 'being' and 'non-being,' there is no place from which to come or to which to go. My body is no different." He then recited a verse: "Regard your life as a dream, and the dream is indeed lively. Suddenly you wake, and all things come to rest, just as one awakens within a dream. Those who understand know that life is a dream; the deluded believe that everything in the dream is real. If you see through the dream, you will know that awakening and non-awakening are, after all, not different. Wealth and poverty likewise offer no other road to walk." The Master's words may be said to have made the principle thoroughly clear.

Of all the things in the world, none is not a dream. When Guo Congyi was stationed at Heyang, he built a great residence in Luoyang with more than a thousand rooms. All were built of fragrant cypress, and even the beams were of wenzi wood, with the floors laid in flowered stone. He also dug ponds and channeled water, piled up hills and planted fruit trees, and set up mills, water-powered pounding mortars, stables, granaries, and pavilions, with everything complete. The residence cost about five thousand taels of silver to finish. The following year he was summoned back to the capital, and he reached the residence in the evening. He carried a candle and went about inspecting it, but before he had finished, he had to leave in order to attend court at the appointed hour and could not stay long. After a meal and a brief rest, he set out before dawn. When the audience ended and he returned, he died upon reaching the Eastern Capital, Luoyang, and never came back. His family could not bear to live there, so they presented the residence to the government, which then granted it to Prince Tu. After the Prince was moved to Fangling, the residence became an unused guesthouse.

Duke Chen built a residence of similar grandeur and splendor in Runzhou, with pavilions, ponds, and towers stretching for several hundred paces. When it was completed he was already gravely ill, and he could only be carried in a sedan chair once to the western tower before he died. People later called his residence "the three cannots": it cannot be lived in, it cannot be repaired, and it cannot be sold. Looking back at the days when it was built, is it not like a dream?

Therefore one can understand all the more clearly that benefiting oneself by harming others ultimately harms oneself. Have you not heard the principle stated in the Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and De)? "Sometimes diminishing brings gain, and sometimes increasing brings loss."

Exchanging Evil for Good

The commentary says: when those below benefit and those above diminish themselves, the people will be boundlessly joyful. Treating others harshly while favoring oneself is a principle that cannot endure. In the Book of Changes (Yijing), none of the six lines carries calamity, because the humble occupy the honored position and so shine all the more. Things are full and then diminish, grow and then wane, rising and falling in mutual restraint. Those who seek only their own gain rarely escape ruin.

The Transmitted Text says: my body can hear, see, and feel, and it can also think. These clearly exist. Yet according to the Buddhist teaching, the body is formed by the coming together of the four elements of earth, water, fire, and wind through dependent causes, and the six sense faculties (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind) are likewise formed from illusion. Once the four elements separate, where is this illusory body of mine?

My mind can do good or do evil, and its everyday workings are plainly visible, so it too seems to truly exist. But according to the Buddhist teaching, the four elements and the six faculties join inside and outside, forming an illusory vapor of conditioned causes that gathers within and appears to grasp at objects. For convenience we call this "mind." Having understood this, one should leave illusion behind and seek awakening.

Yet the Buddhist teaching also holds that if one speaks of awakening on the basis of illusion, that awakening is still called illusion. If one claims to be awakened, one has not yet left illusion, and if one claims not to be awakened, it is the same. Viewed this way, the body, the mind, and the one who seeks awakening are all illusions, and external things are no different. Since this is so, why bother to make arbitrary distinctions between good and bad?

Pihehfu said: "The four elements are temporarily assembled into a body, and the mind was never born from the start. It arises only because of external circumstances. If external circumstances did not exist, the mind would not exist either. Sin and blessing arise like illusions and vanish like illusions."

The Fourth Patriarch said: "External circumstances and conditions have no inherent good or bad. Good and bad are produced by the mind. If the mind does not insist on labeling things, where would false emotions arise from?"

Once there was a Black Brahmin (a practitioner) who, using his spiritual powers, held a branch of wutong flowers in each hand, wishing to offer them to the Buddha. The Buddha said, "Put it down." The practitioner set down the flower in his left hand. The Buddha said again, "Put it down." He set down the flower in his right hand. The Buddha said once more, "Put it down." The Brahmin replied, "World-Honored One, I was holding only two flowers, and I have already set both of them down. My hands are now empty. What else am I to put down?" The Buddha said, "I did not tell you to put down the flowers. I told you to put down the six objects outside, the six faculties inside, and the six consciousnesses (the functions that distinguish and recognize things) that lie between inside and outside. If you can put down all three, and not even cling to the act of 'putting down' itself, you will have reached the realm beyond birth and death." The Brahmin was suddenly enlightened and attained liberation.

In the reign of Emperor Dezong of Tang, Wu Yuanqing served as Commissioner of the Six Offices. At that time the flowers of Luoyang were blooming, and he loved them dearly. Suddenly a voice came from the sky: "Illusory scenes bloom and fade, and never remain. To cling to them harms the roots of goodness. Why do you cherish them so?" Wu Yuanqing awakened at once and also attained liberation.

Wang Wenzheng did not care for a jade belt worth a thousand gold pieces, and Lü Wenmu did not care for a mirror said to reflect objects two hundred li away. These men surely understood this principle. As for those who exchange bad things for good, what need is there to counsel them with such principles? Even if they read the Buddhist scriptures and still fail to understand, why not awaken through the Confucian saying, "Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire"?

When Wang Dan was chief minister, someone asked his younger brother to present a jade belt, saying, "This belt is extraordinary." Wang Dan said, "I already bear a heavy responsibility. If I also let others praise my possessions, would that not be exhausting?" And so throughout his life, the only belt he wore was the one the court had bestowed on him.

When Lü Wenjing was chief minister, someone asked his son-in-law to sell an antique mirror, saying, "This mirror can reflect objects two hundred li away." Lü Wenjing said, "My face is no bigger than a plate. What use do I have for a mirror that reflects things two hundred li away?"

Ragged-clothed Zilu did not envy the fine fox and marten furs of the wealthy. Lü Dongbin, the Daoist immortal of legend, looked down on those who used illusions to turn copper into gold. Accepting a life of poverty and humble station is something the gentleman is content to do. Purple resembles vermilion and confuses it, and the music of the state of Zheng disturbs the refined music of the court. A petty thief may be clever in small ways, but he never lowers his head in shame over it.

Letting Private Feelings Harm Public Duty

The ancients said: "For the sake of the state, one may forget one's family; for the sake of the ruler, one may forget oneself; for the sake of public affairs, one may forget private feelings. This is the duty of a minister." How could one let private feelings harm public affairs? If someone did so, right would easily be called wrong and the worthy would be called unworthy, and state affairs would quickly be ruined. This is why the gentleman does not dare to do it.

Zhao Kai, posthumously Duke Kangjing, and Ouyang Xiu, posthumously Duke Wenzhong, both once served together in the Academy of Scholars (guange). Zhao Kai was steady and spoke little, and Ouyang Xiu at one point looked down on him. Later Ouyang Xiu was implicated in a scandal involving his nephews, and Emperor Renzong grew angry, and the case was pressed urgently. The chief ministers at court all wanted to fabricate charges, and none of the other officials dared to speak. Only Zhao Kai stepped forward and bravely submitted a memorial, saying: "Ouyang Xiu is known for his literary talent, and one must not carelessly slander him over what happens in his private chambers. I have had little contact with Ouyang Xiu, and he has never been close to me. What I am concerned about is only the dignity of the court." Someone asked Zhao Kai: "Were you not at odds with Duke Ouyang?" Zhao Kai replied: "I do not approve of letting private feelings harm public duty. How could I do such a thing?"

In the Zhihe era of Emperor Renzong, Zhao Yi served as a censor and Fan Zhen as a remonstrance official, and the two developed a rift over their discussion of the affair of Duke Gong of Chen. In the Xining era of Emperor Shenzong, Wang Anshi held power. Because Jingren (Zhao Yi) had repeatedly criticized him before the emperor, Wang Anshi sought an opportunity to bring him down. One day the emperor asked Wang Anshi what kind of man Zhao Yi was. Wang Anshi said: "Ask Zhao Yi himself, and you will know what sort of man he is." After the emperor asked Zhao Yi, Zhao Yi replied: "He is a loyal minister." The emperor asked: "On what grounds do you know he is loyal?" Zhao Yi said: "In the Jiayou era, when Emperor Renzong was gravely ill, Fan Zhen was the first to petition for the establishment of an heir to stabilize the state. Is this not the act of a loyal minister?" After the audience ended, Wang Anshi reproached Zhao Yi: "Were you not at odds with him?" Zhao Yi replied: "How could I let private feelings harm public duty? The reason I speak frankly is that I place the state first and personal grudges last." Men like Zhao Kai and Zhao Yi can truly be said to have forgotten private feelings for the sake of public duty.

Those who act from a public heart take principle as their standard, while those who act from a private heart always speak in terms of gain. Once the desire to covet profit arises, Heavenly Principle (tianli) vanishes. When indulgence and extravagance reach their extreme, bandits appear one after another. Affairs that arise from concern only for oneself make one's conduct capricious and crooked. To use public business as a pretext for private gain is an even graver offense.

The Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise of Response and Retribution of the Most High), Scroll Thirteen, ends here.

The Taishang Ganying Pian, Scroll Fourteen

Transmitted by Li Changling; eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Stealing Another's Talent

The record tells of the arhat Bilinjiapocuo (Pindola Bharadvaja, a Buddhist saint) who, while crossing a river, suddenly caught the scent of lotus blossoms. The river god rebuked him: "Venerable one, you have already attained the fruit of arhatship. Why did you steal my fragrance?" Bharadvaja replied, "The fragrance drifted into my nose on its own. How can that be called stealing?" Reflecting on this exchange, one finds deep meaning in it. The fragrant particles simply exist as they are. It is because the nasal faculty (bi gen, the organ that perceives smell) gives rise to olfactory consciousness that one discerns "fragrance." Yet in Buddhist teaching, this too is called "stealing." From this we should understand that to appropriate another's talent and present it as one's own is indeed theft.

There was once an elderly man of advanced years who, in his later life, served as jijiu (a scholarly official title). He lacked virtue and was not protected by the spirits, so malevolent forces clung to him, and calamity soon arrived. The Venerable Lord of Preserving Life (Baoming Zhenjun, a revered Daoist deity) once said to Lord Xu, Xu Xun (a Daoist adept of the Eastern Jin): "This elder has long been without virtue, and the lawsuits against him accumulated among the spirits are many. He has also chiseled out ancient stele inscriptions and passed off their texts as his own work. The Water Official (Shuiguan, the deity who governs the waters) has punished him for concealing the good deeds of others and claiming them for himself. He has secretly harmed the spirits, and therefore his name stands first among the cases, and his crimes have been made known to him. He will surely not escape punishment." Before long, the elder indeed died. If this is so, how could one steal another's talent and claim it as one's own?

Have you not heard of Shi Manqing? Several years after Shi Manqing (a Northern Song poet) died, he appeared in a dream to his friend Guan Yong and said: "In my lifetime I wrote many poems, and I considered 'Yangping Dai Yi' the finest, its language and meaning the most profound, and I took the greatest pride in it. Yet people merely praised it with empty words. Only Yong Yan (Yan) has been able to make this poem widely known." When Guan Yong awoke, he supplied the obscure, difficult passages of the poem and composed "Du Ren" and "Mi Xian Yin," which people then sang. Later, Shi Manqing came again in a dream to express his thanks. Alas, when a single poem fails to be made known, its author must still rely on others to help. How much more so when one steals another's work and claims it as one's own talent?

Eulogy:

Seeing worthy and virtuous people, one should wish to match them; seeing sages, one should follow their teachings. Many kinds of goodness can be attained, and what matters is whether a person can turn the same standard back upon themselves. When one thinks oneself less than Shun, one should regard this as cause for concern. How can one be gentle and meek in appearance, like a sheep, and yet call oneself a fierce pixiu (a legendary beast)? To deceive others is also to deceive oneself, and this is a deeply shameful thing.

Concealing the Good Deeds of Others

An ancient text says that since antiquity, everyone whose skill brought them lasting fame has been known only because others recorded it. Prince Teng Yuanying was skilled at painting butterflies, Lady Gongsun at sword dancing, Cao Gang at playing the pipa, and Mi Jiarong at singing. We remember them only because Wang Jian's Palace Lyrics and the verses of worthy Tang scholars happened to mention them. Whatever is good, however slight its merit, counts as good, and to withhold its proclamation is to conceal it.

Have you not heard of the case of Lord Xu (Xu Zhenjun)? During his lifetime, Lord Xu built a Daoist temple and wished to erect a stele to record the work. By chance he obtained an ancient stele whose inscription had worn away, so he scraped off the old characters and carved a new record in their place. From that time on, his mind was unsettled and he could find no peace.

One day, as he walked slowly in his courtyard, he suddenly heard a voice from the sky say, "Lord Xu, Lord Xu, hurry to the Water Official and seek deliverance, or you may meet with disaster." Xu Zhenjun was greatly alarmed. He lit incense, prayed sincerely, and asked why he needed to seek deliverance. After a long while, the voice spoke again: "Although the old inscription you scraped away had already worn away, the man who originally wrote it has brought an accusation before the Water Official, charging that you seized his reputation to glorify yourself. The Water Official will therefore summon you to answer the charge, so you should make amends as soon as possible."

Xu Zhenjun then searched everywhere for the old inscription and had it carved on another stone. That night he dreamed of a deity who thanked him: "You have made my name manifest once more, and I have no way to repay you. Hold a Water-Land Great Zhaijiao (a large-scale Daoist purification ritual that invokes the deities and addresses the spirits of water and land) and announce it widely to all spirits. In this way the Three Officials (of Heaven, Earth, and Water) may record your name and help you attain the Dao." Xu Zhenjun carried out the instructions, and afterward he did indeed attain the Dao.

After Caizhou was pacified, Emperor Xianzong of the Tang ordered a Daoist priest to go to the region and hold a Zhaijiao at the Ziji Palace. The Ziji Palace had originally been a living-person shrine (shengci) built for Wu Shaocheng, and was later converted into a Daoist palace by Duke Pei of Jin. On the day of the ritual, thunder and lightning arose. Han Yu's Stele Commemorating the Pacification of Huaixi had been carved on an old stele in praise of Wu Shaocheng's virtuous government. That day the stone seemed to sweat water, and it gradually dissolved into mud. More than ten days later, an envoy from the palace arrived under imperial order, ground away Han Yu's account of the Huaixi campaign, and re-carved Wu Shaocheng's inscription in praise of his virtuous rule. These changes seemed to follow a revelation received in a dream, and they bore visible signs.

Alas, if even the honors due to written words must be treated so fairly, how much more must good deeds be, since they far outweigh mere writing?

Eulogy says:

To conceal the faults of the capable is an ill omen. Trace its original motive, and it is nothing more than envy of another's strengths. Jade hidden among trees still moistens them, and pearls born in darkness still give off light. Precious and beautiful things in the world are hard to keep hidden for long. To envy the talented and obstruct good deeds is to try to press them down, only to make them more conspicuous.

Exposing and publicizing the ugly deeds of others.

The accompanying commentary explains that chou (ugly) is the "ugly" of beauty and ugliness, and xing (form) is the "form" of describing appearances and bringing things into the open. Nie Chongyi, for example, loved to write poetry and also delighted in mocking others, sparing not even his colleagues and friends. Later he was punished for ridiculing government affairs and exiled to Dengzhou, where he died. His coffin was left by the roadside, and no one came to bury him. Zhang Qiyi was likewise skilled at poetry and fond of satire. Whenever someone behaved in an unseemly way, he wrote it into a poem, so the matter spread widely and could no longer be concealed. Some of the misdeeds he exposed were exaggerated, and he even broke up other people's marriages, separating family members. Later he fell into a grave illness and died biting down on his own tongue. Judging from this, can the faults of others truly be exposed at will? It is a pity that he never heard the story of Huangkeng. Had he heard it, he would surely have taken warning.

An army officer named Duan Gou once passed through Huangkeng. An attendant riding ahead of his horse picked up several jin of skeletal bones, and on one fragment was faintly carved the phrase taozou nu ("runaway slave"). This was likely a mark once tattooed on fugitive slaves, and it had sunk deep into the bone. That night, the attendant dreamed of a man covering his face with his hand, who asked for the fragment and said, "I am deeply ashamed. Please bury it quickly and deeply, where no one will see it, and I will surely repay you." When the attendant woke, he immediately buried the bone. Later, when he passed through Huangkeng again, he dreamed once more of the man who had asked for the bone. The man said, "You helped me before, and a few paces from here I have buried a great deal of wealth. I will give it to you as thanks." The attendant dug in the place he indicated and indeed found money worth more than a hundred thousand. Given this, how can one be sure that exposing another's ugly deeds will not bring retribution in the future?

Eulogy says:

Wang Zhaojun was extraordinarily beautiful, yet her portrait was deliberately painted wrongly. How much more so with some people, whose faults are more humiliating than any flaw in appearance. To depict and carve out someone's ugliness can, at times, be more skillful than having witnessed it firsthand. Once a matter is spread by the mouths of many, it is ultimately impossible to wash clean. With only a few words from me, a person may be plunged into a great and terrible infamy.

Exposing the privacy of others.

An ancient text says that jie (accusing others of faults) is not merely exposing matters but specifically denouncing others' errors and private affairs, as people like Lü Jifu did. When Zeng Zixuan was Sinong qing (Minister of Agriculture), Lü Jifu succeeded him and at once asked the court to issue an order, claiming that the Sinong office had left many matters unfinished and handled them improperly. When Zhang Cuiming held the same post, Shu Dan succeeded him and submitted all the subordinate officials' documents to the throne, accusing the Sinong office of failing to carry out its duties.

When Zhou Shihou was Circuit Intendant of Hubei, someone sent him several dozen jars of supply wine, and he asked Zhang Shangying, who oversaw salt administration, to sell them. Zhang Shangying told the inspector Pu Zongmeng about this, and Pu Zongmeng memorialized to impeach Zhou Shihou, who was then demoted. Later, while Zhang Shangying held a post at the imperial academy, Zhang asked Shu Dan to recommend a candidate for the examinations. Shu Dan forwarded Zhang's letter to the court, and Zhang Shangying was consequently stripped of office. Did these people not know Zigong's saying that he "detested those who take accusation as uprightness"? How could a person of true kindness act this way?

When Han Qi was chief minister, whenever a document contained attacks exposing someone's hidden faults, he sealed it with his own hands so that no one else could see it. When Chen Guan served as a remonstrating official, he spoke directly about whatever he knew, but when impeaching others he did not dwell on trivial details, and so he never touched on anyone's private affairs.

When Su Song served in Hangzhou, a prominent figure asked him to handle a private matter, and Su Song refused. Later, that person became a remonstrating official, harbored resentment, and vigorously slandered Su Song. Someone urged Su Song to produce the letter that person had originally sent with the request. Su Song smiled and said, "Exposing another's private affairs, how would I ever do such a thing?"

When Hu Su was prefect of Dongzhou, his predecessor, Duke Teng (Tenggong), had vigorously built schools at a cost of tens of millions of cash. Before the project was finished, Duke Teng was dismissed. Afterward, petty men spread rumors that his spending had been unaccounted for, and from the assistant prefect downward, the prefecture's officials refused to sign the account books. Hu Su confronted them before the assembly: "You have assisted Duke Teng for some time now. If he had embezzled, why did you not report it earlier, and instead stand idly by in private? Only after he has left office are you willing to sign the books. What good is this?" Everyone present felt ashamed, and only then did they sign.

When kindness is carried to its utmost, the gap between such a person and a cold, heartless one becomes very great.

The eulogy says: Exposing private faults is not uprightness, and the sages despised it. It is treacherous and crafty, seizing every chance to strike at another's weakness. In ordinary times they swear oaths to heaven and clasp hands in laughter, seeming intimate, yet once their interests are slightly touched, they turn on one another. They are not fierce beasts, yet what sort of people are they, after all?

Squandering other people's wealth brings ruin to their families and decline to their households, and their descendants are left in hardship. Can the guilt of those who do this be considered small? The following story illustrates the point.

There was a man named Wen Qi who traveled through the Shu region making his living by refining medicinal substances, moving in and out of wealthy households. Anyone interested in furnace fires and alchemical elixirs was deceived by him without exception. A wealthy merchant named Li Shiwulang had accumulated a great fortune and, believing in Wen Qi's arts, saw his family property nearly exhausted within three years. Sensible people mocked him, and he finally hanged himself. Wen Qi then left and rented a room in Jianzhou, where he continued refining medicine. Before long his furnace set off a great fire, which spread and burned down an entire neighborhood. Wen Qi fled in a panic, wandered into a forest, and was pursued by wild beasts. Even after he went deep into a valley, the beasts kept close on his heels. At dawn he was captured. When the authorities had finished their investigation, they beheaded him at the site where he had refined his elixirs, to give an account to the residents who had suffered the disaster. From this we see that other people's property may not be wasted at will, and neither may one's own. Let me cite another story, in the hope that the sons and younger members of families will take it as a warning.

Wang Zude died in Qinzhou in the yichou year of the Shaoxing era. One evening his wife and son were sitting in the main hall when, in a dreamlike state, they saw Zude returning from outside. He reproached them, saying: "I hear that the family has already discussed selling the house. This residence is an estate handed down from our ancestors. How can it be sold so casually? The ten scrolls of landscape paintings by Huang Quan and Guo Xi and the Cold Forest painting by Li Cheng, which I treasured all my life, I hear you have also taken out to be appraised. I have not been dead long, and the family has not fallen into destitution to the point of being unable to survive. Why go to such lengths? I am deeply concerned about the household, yet I have no way to return, and only because it is the Zhongyuan Festival was I able to come back for a time. If you do not quickly change your minds, I will bring calamity upon you." His wife was greatly frightened and from then on no longer discussed selling the house. From this we see that neither other people's property nor one's own family's property may be consumed at will.

The eulogy goes:

Nüba embodies poverty, and the ghost of want loathes abundance. Strange portents and calamities arise from this, and the principle behind them is hard to fathom. Human nature is extremely precious, and kin and friends are all people worth cherishing. Why, then, should one envy what others possess? Gongliu loved wealth, yet he was able to make the people's lives rich and secure.

Sowing discord among others' kin.

The ancients said that kin are bound by blood, that loving one another is the natural order of human relations, so how could one stir up discord between them? Have you not heard of Zhang Songshan?

Long ago, Zhang Xiaoji married the daughter of a wealthy man from the same prefecture. The man had only one son, who occasionally made some minor mistake. The household came to dislike him and drove him out. Not long after, the wealthy man fell ill, and on his deathbed he entrusted the entire family estate to Zhang Xiaoji.

Several years later, Zhang Xiaoji saw his father-in-law's son begging by the roadside. He called out to him and asked, "Can you water a garden?" The man replied, "If you would take me in and give me a meal to eat, I would be deeply grateful." Later, when Zhang Xiaoji's circumstances had grown more comfortable, he asked again, "Could you manage a granary?" The man said, "To be allowed to water the garden is already more than I deserve. If I could also manage the granary, that would be a far greater kindness." So Zhang Xiaoji had him manage the granary. After a long time, the man became ever more gentle and cautious, no longer as he had been before.

Zhang Xiaoji thought to himself, "They are father and son after all. How can I hold on to this estate and let such a fine act slip away?" And so he returned the entire family property to his father-in-law's son. People at the time all marveled at it, regarding it as a deed of rare righteousness since antiquity.

After Zhang Xiaoji died, several of his friends traveled to Mount Song. On the way they met a person of high rank, with banners stretching across the fields and an unbroken line of attendants and carriages, like a regional official newly arriving at his post. Looking more closely in secret, they saw that the one seated in the carriage was none other than Zhang Xiaoji. The companions stepped forward and bowed, asking how he had come to hold such a position. Zhang Xiaoji said, "It is because of returning the family estate." Before he had finished speaking, he suddenly vanished.

Alas, how many men in the world can be sons-in-law like Zhang Xiaoji? And when others face such a situation, could they do the same?

Long ago, in Hangzhou, there was a scholar who also became the son-in-law of a wealthy man. When the man lay dying, his son was only three years old, so he had his son-in-law manage the family property on his behalf and wrote out a will for him, saying, "When the estate is divided in the future, give three parts to my son and seven parts to my son-in-law." When the son grew to adulthood, he brought the matter before the authorities. Zhang Zhongding, who had served as a local magistrate and was then prefect, examined the will. He poured out wine onto the ground and said, "Your father-in-law was a man of wisdom. He arranged things this way because his son was young and he hoped you would devote yourself to raising him. Had it not been so, his son would surely have died at your hands long ago." Zhang Zhongding then ordered that seven parts of the property go to the son and three parts to the son-in-law. The two men wept, bowed in thanks, and departed.

Alas, if we compare such a son-in-law with Zhang Songshan, the foundation Zhang Songshan laid for his conduct in the world was already as lofty as the heavens, and so how could he fail to become an immortal? If we compare him with other men, this son-in-law, once awakened by Zhang Zhongding's words, submitted to the arrangement. He still understood righteousness, and he surpassed those who were fierce and cruel, devoid of human feeling, and untrustworthy. But to set him beside Zhang Songshan is to see a distance as vast as the edge of the sky.

Treatise of Response from the Most High (Taishang Ganying Pian), Scroll Fifteen

Compiled and transmitted by Li Changling; eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Harming what others cherish, whether people or things.

The biography says that when Lord Xu (Xu Zhenjun), the immortal revered in Daoism, was alive, he eliminated a serpent demon in Nanchang. More than a thousand of his fellow practitioners wished to follow him, but he chose only three hundred whom he already knew well. Later, while they were lodging at the foot of a mountain, he worried that these followers' cultivation was still insufficient. He took three hundred pieces of glowing charcoal and transformed them into three hundred beautiful women to test the company. At dawn, when they checked, only a few, including Wu Meng and Shi Dao, had no trace of ash on their clothing. The other two hundred and ninety-eight had all touched the charcoal.

When they touched the charcoal, did they not all take it for a beautiful woman? How could they have known it was only charcoal? This shows that most people have not yet severed their habitual attachment to desire and are easily seduced, let alone those who do not understand cultivation.

In the past, Tao Gu was sent on a mission to Jiangnan. He normally carried himself with dignity and bearing, and he never spoke lightly, even in casual conversation. Han Xizai remarked to his close associates, "I do not think this man is truly upright. He only keeps up an outward appearance of self-restraint, and his integrity can be shaken. We should let everyone see it." Han then chose a famous courtesan named Qin Ruolan and had her wear shabby clothes and pose as the daughter of a post-station attendant. Each day she swept the station with a broom. Qin Ruolan was strikingly beautiful, and when Tao Gu saw her, he was moved. He failed to keep the caution he should have maintained when alone, and he even wrote several "Postal Pavilion" lyrics for her to sing.

A few days later, Li Yu, the last ruler of the Southern Tang, held a grand banquet and had wine poured for Tao Gu from a large bell. At first Tao Gu remained very solemn. Li Yu then had Qin Ruolan come out and sing the lyrics Tao Gu had given her to enliven the feast. Tao Gu was immediately ashamed. In the end he drank until he collapsed and even vomited at the table. From that time on, Li Yu held him in contempt. When Tao Gu returned to the court, the government already knew of the affair and no longer employed him.

When Wen Yanbo (courtesy name Lord Lu) was serving in Sichuan, he often held banquets, and some rumors about them reached the outside. Coincidentally, the censor He Tan (courtesy name Shengcong) had requested leave to return to Sichuan, so Wen asked him to investigate the matter quietly. When He Tan was nearing the Sichuan border, Wen held a banquet to welcome him. Zhang Yu (courtesy name Shaoyu) said to Wen Yanbo, "Shengcong's arrival here need not cause concern. When he previously served as a magistrate in Hanzhou, he happened to attend a gathering with fellow natives, where a camp courtesan, a woman who performed songs and dances for military banquets, caught his fancy. He asked her surname, and she replied that it was Yang. Shengcong then said, 'So you are Yang Tailiu, the Willow of the Terrace.' Zhang Yu then took off her head scarf and wrote a poem on it: 'The fair ones of the Shu realm are called slender-waisted; the Censor of the Eastern Terrace cherishes the enchanting beauty. From now on she shall be called Yang Tailiu, who dances away a thousand willow branches in the spring wind.' He then had the woman sing a bamboo-branch song, and Shengcong got thoroughly drunk. From this episode one can see his true character."

Wen Yanbo said, "Let us keep this secret for now." When He Tan arrived, he indeed looked very solemn. Wen held a banquet for him and arranged for the courtesan to sit among the household's singing girls, where she sang Zhang Yu's poem to entertain the guests. He Tan also grew drunk. The story eventually spread and finally reached the emperor. After He Tan returned to the capital, the emperor no longer summoned him. The slander against Wen Yanbo was thus put to rest.

Alas, Tao Gu never truly had integrity to begin with, but He Tan was renowned for his uprightness, so why should he also have behaved this way? Perhaps a person who displays desire in his words has already been shaken within. Is this not because the habit of desire has not yet been cut off, so that one mistakes the illusory body for something real and lovable, and thereby gives rise to craving and discrimination?

A person cherishes themselves more than precious jade, and cherishes their children as they cherish themselves. By extension, what people value, others generally value too. Why, then, are there those who are cruel and heartless, who recklessly harm and plunder others? Beautiful women and precious jade have nearly overturned the imperial carriage of the Han dynasty.

Helping Others Do Evil

The text says that another version reads "teaching others to do evil." Such conduct mostly fosters others' wrongdoing rather than guiding them toward goodness. Did the Buddha not say that explaining the Buddhist teachings (fofa) and transforming sentient beings is called "the giving of the Dharma" (fashi), because it enables beings to hear the right path? For this reason, a person will receive seven kinds of retribution in future lives. First, when beings hear the Dharma and immediately dispel their anger, I will obtain a dignified appearance in my future life. Second, when beings hear the Dharma, awaken compassion, and cease killing, I will enjoy longevity in my future life. Third, when beings hear the Dharma and stop stealing from others, I will possess abundant wealth in my future life. Fourth, when beings hear the Dharma, open their hearts, and delight in giving, I will have robust strength in my future life. Fifth, when beings hear the Dharma and their ignorance and confusion vanish at once, I will attain unobstructed eloquence in my future life. Sixth, when beings hear the Dharma, their faith becomes firm and free of doubt, and I will have a clear and steadfast conviction in my future life. Seventh, when beings hear the Dharma and learn to act flexibly in accordance with the right path, I will walk the path of Bodhi (the way of awakening) in my future life.

Given this, is guiding others toward goodness not better than helping them do evil? Let us consider one example, in the hope that everyone will take it as a warning.

During the Yuanfeng era of the Northern Song, Li Zhichun thrice served as transport official of Chengdu, an official responsible for the fiscal revenues of a circuit. Li cared for the common people and all living things, so that the people of Shu could live in peace. Beyond the demands of government, Li paid particular attention to gathering and burying exposed bones. The minor official Xu Xi, a native of Meizhou, was skilled at doing good, so Li assigned this matter entirely to Xu, and Xu personally took on the responsibility.

One day, Wang Bin, a resident of Jinhua Street west of the city, fell ill and entered the netherworld, where they saw several officials in red and purple robes gathered in a hall. They summoned Xu Xi before them and said, "A celestial dispatch has just arrived announcing that Li Zhichun, for the merit of burying the dried bones, will again be appointed prefect of Chengdu. You handled the documents and contributed greatly, so you are granted a son who will pass the jinshi examination. You are honest and careful, and others will surely trust you. When you return, you may tell this story so that everyone is encouraged."

In the third year of the Yuanyou era, Li Zhichun was indeed promoted to Academician of the Baowen Pavilion and appointed prefect of Chengdu. Xu Xi later had a son, named Xu Shi, who passed the jinshi examination that same year and placed on the list overseen by Li Changning. This is an example of someone who helped others do good and was themselves rewarded with good fortune.

In the Zhenghe era, the emperor issued an edict for a large-scale renovation of the Xi Nei (the palace compound in the western part of the imperial city).

At that time, Wang Shu was serving as Transport Commissioner, but he was dismissed because his levies on the people had been excessively burdensome. The court then appointed Song Sheng, Academician of the Huizhou Pavilion (Huiyou Ge Daizhi), as Chief Transport Commissioner and ordered him to take charge of the matter. Song Sheng was overly rigid in carrying out his duties. He requisitioned large quantities of ox bone ash to plaster the palace walls, demanding that the surfaces be bright and glossy. But his orders were so severe that the people, in order to comply, slaughtered oxen and horses and dug up graves for bones, and still it was not enough.

At that time, Sun Kuang and Han Rong were both subordinate officials of the transport office. Sun Kuang disapproved of the scheme and, using illness as a pretext, resigned and left. Han Rong, however, alone put forward a proposal requesting that more than a dozen tombs from the Five Dynasties period outside the city be dug up to make up the shortfall.

In the Xuanhe era, Sun Kuang suddenly died of an acute illness and arrived at Mount Tai, the place that in legend governs life and death and judges the souls of the dead. He saw a gate with the two characters "Qing Yi" inscribed upon it. Officials forced him, with iron forks, to confess to the "Document of Annihilation of the Clan," the charge that brought ruin upon his entire family. Sun Kuang replied, "It was precisely because of this matter that I resigned, fearing that I had done wrong."

Soon after, he saw several ghost soldiers leading out two prisoners. Both wore heavy wooden cangues and iron shackles, and each was beaten with an iron fan by a ghost soldier standing beside him. The fans were studded with iron nails, and both men were covered in blood. When Sun Kuang looked closely, he recognized them as Wang Shu and Song Sheng. One of them offered a lengthy defense, but in the end both confessed their guilt and accepted their punishment.

As Sun Kuang was about to leave, Han Rong was also arrested and brought in. The officials again used iron forks to force him to confess to the "Document of Annihilation of the Clan." Han Rong said, "I am indeed guilty, but what crime did my father and grandfather commit? If you want to wipe out the entire family, isn't that going too far?" Before long, an order came from the hall: "Let him confess only to the crime of his own branch dying out without heirs." Sun Kuang later told this account. Not long afterward, the members of Han Rong's branch indeed all died out. This is an example of immediate retribution for helping others do evil. Given this, can one really help others commit wrongs?

The eulogy says:

Helping someone brew wine, you too will taste the wine; helping a state affair go wrong, you too will be harmed. Good and evil respond to each other, and this is the ordinary principle of the world. Those who aid the wicked in violence will in the end come to ruin. It is like carrying firewood to put out a fire, or pouring hot soup into boiling water: it only makes the flames fiercer and the water boil harder. The calamity that comes is as grievous as burns, and retribution, like a debt repaid by agreement, will surely arrive.

Indulging one's own desires and relying on power to display might.

The book says that Kou Laigong's "Six Regrets Inscription" lists six situations in which people regret things only after the fact. Those who hold office and act selfishly regret it when they lose their post. Those who are wealthy and do not economize regret it when they become poor. Those who have a skill but do not learn it early regret it when the opportunity has passed. Those who do not study when faced with matters regret it when they actually need the knowledge. Those who speak wild words while drunk regret it when they sober up. Those who do not care for their health in times of peace regret it when they fall ill. Kou Laigong (Kou Zhun, a distinguished Northern Song minister) offered truly important warnings for reducing regret. I greatly admire these words, so I have copied them down here to caution those who indulge their desires and bully others by relying on their power. If they act this way, will they not regret it someday?

Long ago, He Jia served as Recording Army Officer (a subordinate official in the prefectural administration) and also oversaw the Changping Granary of the Zizhou circuit (an agency responsible for regulating grain prices and storing grain). Wherever he went, he acted overbearingly, using floggings of officials and commoners to establish his authority. The officials and common people feared him and could only hide wherever they could. He even looked down on the supervisory officials of the circuit, such as the transport and judicial commissioners. When he sent official documents to the prefectures and counties, he would always say, "Without an order from the government office, the documents of the judicial and transport commissioners shall not be carried out." When the Assistant Transport Commissioner Li Song and the Judge Chen Kang discussed matters with him, whenever their opinions differed from his, he would rebuke and insult them. When the prefect came to report to him, the prefect had to dismount outside the gate and enter by the corridor. Even when the prefect had reached the area near his seat, He Jia often still did not rise.

He also planned to abolish Guang'an Military Command. Many people believed that Guang'an was very far from other prefectures and should not be abolished. The prefectural official Zhang Pi produced the Record of the Drum and Bugle Tower written by his father, He She, which explained in detail why Guang'an should not be abolished, and presented the essay to He Jia. He Jia replied, "All matters should follow public deliberation. What evidence does this essay have?" Li Song and the others then reported his conduct to the throne, and the court issued an edict removing him from office. After his dismissal, He Jia impeached Li Song and the others in turn and said everything he could. When he reached the capital, he was handed over to the Kaifeng Prefecture for trial. He Jia requested ten thousand sheets of paper to write his defense, and the prefectural office gave him that number. He ended up writing only a single large character on each sheet. In the end, all four charges against him were judged to be untrue and entirely absurd, and once the case was clarified, he was stripped of his official post. At such a point, would He Jia not regret it?

What a pity that he did not understand that to act arrogantly by relying on power is something Heaven will not tolerate. Long ago, before Du Xunhe became prominent, he dreamed of a monk who warned him, "You will certainly be favored by the ruler in the future, but if you act arrogantly by relying on power, you will surely lose your life." Later, when Liang Zu (Zhu Wen, founding emperor of the Later Liang) established the Later Liang dynasty, Du Xunhe, relying on imperial favor, behaved tyrannically and even planned to kill people he had long disliked. Before he could carry it out, he suddenly dreamed of a deity who rebuked him: "Have you forgotten the words of that divine monk?" Just as the emperor was about to punish him, he soon died.

The meaning of "Dignity That Brings Fortune" (Wēi rú zhī jí) is that awe-inspiring authority rests fundamentally on self-reflection. A person who has dignity and is respected does so because their bearing accords with propriety. When people see them from afar, they feel a sense of solemn decorum and naturally willingly submit. Holding oneself to strict standards is not meant to mistreat the common people. The Book of Documents warns ministers not to arbitrarily display their power and put on a show of authority.

To revile others in order to win is truly wrong.

Buddhist scriptures record that when the Buddha was alive, a man made his living by driving carts and kept two oxen at home. One ox had a calf with long, broad horns, named "Long Horns," and the other's calf had no horns and was named "Baldy."

One day, while the driver was hauling a cart, he happened to meet another carter. Each boasted that his own ox was stronger, and they agreed to pit the oxen against each other, pulling carts up a steep slope to settle the contest. During the race, Baldy moved slightly slower, and its master angrily cursed it: "You bald beast, why don't you move faster?" Enraged, its eyes turning red, Baldy instead slowed down even more and so lost the contest. It was angered because it had been humiliated in public. Alas, if even livestock behave this way, how much more so people? One should understand that insulting others to win is truly not to be commended.

Once, when Xiao Lun, the Prince of Shaoling, was garrisoning Yingzhou, a man surnamed Wu was a guest in his household. It happened that Zhang Zuan had been appointed as local governor of the Xiangdong region, and Xiao Lun held a farewell banquet for him in the suburbs, which Mr. Wu also attended. Zhang Zuan held a high rank and secretly looked down on the guest, and he suddenly raised his cup and said to him: "Wu, I congratulate you. Today you are actually able to attend this banquet." Wu was furious and went home. His son, Lun'ru, upon hearing of this, was so enraged that his chest was knotted with resentment, and he later died. Wu, grieving for his son and resentful of Zhang Zuan, also died not long after, and his wife, unable to bear the anger, died soon after him. People at the time therefore said, "One cup from Zhang Zuan killed three members of the Wu family." Thus we see that one cannot insult others carelessly.

In Wuyuan County, Huizhou, there was a man named Yu Yanfu who, throughout his life, loved to assert his will and bully his neighbors. Whenever fields or property would benefit him, he schemed to seize them, and even in old age he did not repent. In the Renxu year of the Shaoxing era, he suddenly fell gravely ill, and during his illness he often neighed like a horse. After a long while, his hands and feet turned into hooves, and a few days later he died. Who could say that insulting others and contending for dominance is harmless?

It is a pity that some people misjudge, knowing only that surpassing others is strength, but not realizing that surpassing others is not true strength, and that conquering oneself is what is truly called strength. Have they not heard what Laozi said: "One who overcomes others has force; one who overcomes oneself is strong"?

When someone is humiliated, they may raise an arm and glare at the offender. If they do not fear that person's power, they are bound by that person's authority. Though anger rises in their heart, they dare not voice it, because they have misgivings. Once the offender loses influence and authority is exhausted, the humiliated person often turns around and seeks revenge. If someone can surpass me, I should be watchful and cautious and examine myself, as Great Yu (Dayu) did.

Destroying Others' Crops.

The commentary says that destroying another person's crops is only the kind of thing done by people in the fields and countryside, and it is not in itself worth much discussion. It is worth recalling how earlier officials valued agriculture, cherished grain, and built irrigation works, so that later administrators may know of these deeds and emulate them.

When Gao Tongyi (an official title) served as Prefect of Tang Prefecture, the land was vast and the population sparse. From the Five Dynasties through to the present dynasty, Tang Prefecture governed four counties with only 6,155 households. After Gao took office, they surveyed the fields and found that much of the land could have been cultivated but lacked labor. They therefore vigorously recruited displaced people from the Two Rivers region and allotted land according to household size. Households increased by 11,381, and 31,328 qing of land were distributed to them. Mountains, forests, and wastelands were all turned into good fields.

When Zhang Lun, Academician (Xueshi), served as Deputy Transport Commissioner for Jiang-Huai, they dredged five canals and channeled the waters of Lake Tai to irrigate the people's fields. As a result, the rent grain collected each year increased by 600,000 hu.

When Xu Ti, Director of the Bureau of Titles (Sifeng), served as Prefect of Xingyuan, they vigorously repaired the Shanhe Weir to irrigate the people's fields, and the irrigated area reached more than 40,000 qing. Lu, once Prefect of Jizhou, when serving as magistrate of Queshan County, restored abandoned ponds and reservoirs to irrigate farmland, affecting several thousand qing. When Cheng Shimeng, Compiler (Xiuzhuan), served as Prefect of Shizhou, they surveyed the valleys of Fenzhou, Jinzhou, and other places. Wherever water could irrigate fields, they dug channels to lead it, irrigating more than a thousand qing.

When Xu Gonggui served as magistrate of Danyang County, a severe drought struck. Disregarding the prohibition, they opened the sluice gates of Lian Lake to irrigate the fields, and that year more than ten thousand qing of land yielded a harvest. Under the regulations, anyone who opened sluices without authorization was to be put to death.

When Chen Hua, Remonstrance Official (Jianyi), served as magistrate of Liyang County, they found that the Zheng-Bai Canal could carry water to irrigate the fields, yet it had long been encroached upon by a neighboring county. After taking office, they laid out the facts of the matter and appealed to the relevant authorities. As a result, the abuses of blocking water sources and seizing irrigation rights were eliminated at once, and water was distributed fairly to more than a thousand qing of fields.

Early in their career, when Wang Ji, Vice Minister of Justice (Xingbu), served as registrar of Longxi County, there were dozens of li of ponds and reservoirs. These had been monopolized by large households, who paid the taxes and therefore claimed exclusive use of the water. After taking office, they placed the ponds under public control and used them to irrigate the people's fields. From then on, the county no longer suffered from drought or flood.

Early in their career, when Miao Shizhong, Attendant-in-Waiting (Daizhi), served as registrar of Ningling County, there was an ancient river that had silted up and fallen into disuse over many years. After taking office, they requested that laborers be assigned to dredge the channel so that its water could irrigate the fields. From then on, the fields of the entire county became fertile.

In praise:

To take the harvest without having tilled the field: the Book of Odes once satirized such rulers in verse. As long as land is not occupied by others, the ancients used it as burial ground. If the people are forcibly conscripted when the crops ripen, they have no grain in reserve. Who is it that drains the strength of the people so that they cannot support their families? Harming the common people who sustain all others will surely bring calamity from Heaven.

Breaking up another's marriage.

An ancient book says that ritual holds that only with husband and wife is there father and son. From this we can see that the marital bond is of great importance, so how can one destroy it? Whether a couple is separated before the marriage is accomplished or after the wedding, both count as destroying a marriage. When the bond of affection is injured, the suffering it causes runs deeper than a blade that kills. How, then, can it be said to do no harm?

Long ago, Zheng Hezhong was betrothed in his youth to a woman surnamed Wang. Not long after, his father died and his household gradually declined, and the Wang family wished to cancel the engagement. Wang Gu, the woman's elder brother, who was serving as a judicial official (tuiguan) in Wanzhou, favored breaking off the match. Yet under public pressure, he had no choice but to let his sister marry Hezhong. The couple had a child, but the child unfortunately died young. Wang Gu then cut off all contact with Hezhong and would not let him return home. The Wang woman several times sent clothing to Hezhong, but each time Wang Gu punished the servants who carried the gifts. Hezhong became all the more resentful and later fell ill with a sickness of the heart and died.

One night, the Wang woman dreamed that Hezhong said to her, "I have lodged a complaint with the netherworld bureaucracy, and it has sent the case to the Temple of the Eastern Peak in Quzhou to investigate those involved." By then the Wang woman had already remarried Lu Song, who was serving as an instructor in Jizhou. A little over a month later, Wang Gu died. Those who had taken part in discussing the cancellation of the engagement also died in turn. Only the Wang woman had truly never turned her heart away from her husband, and so she was able to survive. Later, Wang Gu's son took a wife surnamed Xu, but after only two years her family also separated the couple. Is this not retribution?

Yang Hong, the deputy prefect of Gongzhou, disliked his son-in-law Yao Gong for being unlearned and sent him home. When Yao Gong wished to take leave of his wife, he was not permitted to. The daughter, consumed by resentment, fell ill and died, and her body was placed in a monastery cell. When the son-in-law came to the place where the coffin rested, the lock on the door came undone by itself, and the door panels swung open. His mother, hearing of this, grieved without end and died a few days later. More than ten years afterward, a man named Jie came to the place where the coffin rested and suddenly died as well. From this we see that breaking up another's marriage is something one must never do.

The commentary says: Sitting at the bottom of a well and looking up at the sky, one takes what is before one's eyes for the whole of heaven. Living in ease without being instructed, one settles into shallowness. Some boast in front of a horse of Yan Yu (Yan Ying, a charioteer of the Spring and Autumn period, serving Duke Jing of Qi), while others, like the mantis raising its arms against a carriage, show off their bravado. On the Fan Terrace, some care only for the reputation of holding the inkstone for others; beside the Cai River, some complacently enjoy lavish banquets. All of these are signs of arrogance born of luck-given wealth. If you are proud of yourself, who will praise you for it? Sadly, some do not understand that if one now becomes rich by luck and grows overbearing, one will later bear the guilt of arrogance born of wealth. The Supreme One wrote this plainly to warn the world. Is this not the principle behind it?

Have you not heard Laozi say, "Wealth and honor breed arrogance, which brings calamity upon oneself"? Confucius said that Duke Jing of Qi had four thousand horses, yet after his death the people had nothing to praise him for. Boyi and Shuqi starved to death beneath Mount Shouyang, and to this day they are praised. In general, those who are rich by luck are often like this. Those whose inner virtue is full cannot be measured by outward wealth.

When Fan Wengong (Fan Zhongyan) had not yet attained his aims, he studied with Mr. Liu on Changbai Mountain. Each day they cooked two sheng of millet and, once the gruel had set, divided it into four portions, eating two in the morning and two in the evening. Both later rose to the rank of Vice Councilor. Han Yi and Li Ruogu, when they were young, went to the examinations together with only one quilt and one felt mat between them. When they travelled, they took turns serving as attendants, and both also later rose to the rank of Vice Councilor. Zhu Ang gathered tung seeds to exchange for necessities while he studied. Kong Yanzhi chopped pine branches to light his reading. Both later became attendant officials. Li Xingjian's family was poor and could not afford paper, so he gathered leaves to practice writing. Li Xuzhou had no books at home and often borrowed them from others to read. Both later rose to the rank of Academician-in-Waiting. Du Yan, in his youth, was very poor and often made a living copying books for others in the areas of Mengzhou and Luoyang. He later rose to the post of Privy Councilor. Wang Sui was also very poor in his youth. Once, owing money for his meals, he was seized and taken to the magistrate. He later rose to the rank of Vice Councilor.

From this we can see that between those whose virtue and learning are full and those who become arrogant from luck-given wealth, the difference is not merely ten thousandfold. Furthermore, when Shi Culai (a personal name) was still a candidate for office, he studied in Nandu. Vice Minister Wang Ji, hearing that he lived in hardship, sent him a plate of food at a banquet. He declined it, saying, "It is well to have a meal today, but what about tomorrow?" When Hengpu was young and studying in a school during a bitter winter, he did not even have enough clothing and bedding. A rich man of the village sent him a winter garment, and he also refused it, saying, "To resolve to remain content in poverty is precisely the time to labor and temper oneself. If one does not strictly restrain oneself, greed will arise and a sense of shame will be lost. Then what is there to speak of cultivation?" The principles these men held to were roughly like this. Should those who are rich by luck, then, be allowed to be arrogant because of it?

Praise is given to those who acquire wealth by improper means, for they violate righteousness and harm benevolence. Some secretly run businesses for profit at night, yet by day they boast proudly before others. Like thieves who slip through walls and climb through windows, they grow smug once they succeed, riding in ornate carriages on embroidered cushions. They brag of being as rich as Tao Zhugong (a figure of the Spring and Autumn period famed for his wealth) and sneer at Yuan Xian (a disciple of Confucius known for his poverty and integrity). Yet success and failure, honor and disgrace, shift without warning, like western winds that scatter dust and leave nothing behind.

Some people, in order to cling to their own safety, discard even their sense of shame.

The Nirvana Sutra (Niepan Jing) records the Buddha saying: "I have two pure teachings by which all sentient beings may be saved. What are the two? The first is can, and the second is kui. Can means that one does not do wrong oneself; kui means that one does not cause others to do wrong. Can is an inner feeling of shame; kui is confessing one's faults and facing others. Can is being ashamed before people; kui is reverence for Heaven. A person without cankui (shame and remorse) is no different from an animal." The Sutra of the Buddha's Final Instructions (Yijiao Jing) also says that cankui is the finest adornment, like an iron hook that restrains improper conduct, and that losing one's sense of shame means losing one's merit. When cankui fills the heart, resentment and transgression can all be dissolved. Confucius likewise taught that a person must have a sense of shame, and the Book of Rites (Liji) says that in a moment of danger one must not think only of saving oneself.

Now, what kind of person is one who seeks only to escape by any means and feels no shame at all? In general, a sense of shame must never leave a person, even for a moment. Without it, one will not feel ashamed even when committing disgraceful acts, and then what could such a person not do?

Once there was a monk named Yuancheng, who favored fulu (talismans and registers written in the Daoist manner) and was skilled in jinzhou (prohibitive incantations). When Wang □ was a young child, he cried at night, but when Yuancheng recited an incantation, the child stopped crying. Wang □ therefore held him in high regard and recommended him to Zhang Shengong Zi Hou. At that time, Zi Hou was in charge of inspecting the Jinghu circuits north and south, and he intended to bring the stream-cave regions (xidong) under control. Someone said that the local barbarians often practiced nanfa (southern methods) and feared talismans. When Zi Hou arrived at Chenzhou, he ordered Yuancheng, together with Zhang Yu, Li Ziming, and Yi Zhong, to go first into the south to receive the submission of the tribes.

When Yuancheng and the others reached the caves, they indulged their desires and behaved without restraint, to the point of insulting the women of the tribe. The tribal chief Yuan Meng was enraged beyond measure, tied Zhang Yu and the others to pillars, and had them executed by cutting. When it came Yuancheng's turn, he struck his own face and begged for his life. Yuan Meng had long been a devout Buddhist, so he spared him and let him go free. After returning, Yuancheng still relied on the merit of his mission into the caves to obtain a purple robe and a religious title. He called himself "Lianfang Master" (Master of Inquiry), rode a large horse, and went out with a whip and sword at his side, showing not the slightest shame. Can such a man be said to have a sense of shame? The "two pure teachings" he once recited in sutra chanting and the "iron hook that restrains improper conduct," where have they gone?

Fan Taibo Li and the retired Vice Director of Land Reclamation Wang Kui were fellow townsmen and close friends, and both lived in retirement in their native place. One day Wang Kui wrote a poem of six ( ) lines that criticized current affairs. Officials of the surveillance and transport offices arrested Fan Li and used him to pressure Wang Kui. Fan Li had no principles. To save himself, he betrayed every association and dealing Wang Kui had kept. Because of this, Wang Kui was convicted of slandering the government, stripped of his official status, and exiled to a distant place, while Fan Li was pardoned for informing and was soon promoted. The imperial edict appointing him read: "To be your friend, is it not very difficult?" The opinions of the people of that time can be seen from this. Fan Li accepted the appointment with a proud bearing and showed no trace of shame or embarrassment. Can such a man be said to have a sense of cankui? The sense of shame he claimed to cultivate in his daily reading and self-cultivation, where is it now?

Claiming Kindness, Passing Blame

The eulogy says: To cling to life without regard for shame, seeking only to protect oneself, is to be an unfilial son and a disloyal minister. The Han dynasty declined because of Zhang Yu, and the Jin dynasty fell because of Jia Chong. Both men began by worrying over gain and loss, and in the end they walked the path of treachery and wickedness. What should be used to warn such people? The integrity of Boyi should serve as their model.

The ancient text says: The Most High (Taishang) said that teaching people to cultivate the heart-mind (xin) is teaching them to cultivate the Dao, and teaching them to cultivate the Dao is teaching them to cultivate the heart-mind. In the end, the Dao lies within the heart. Before speaking of cultivating the Dao, one must first govern one's own heart well. For this reason, the cultivators of former times, when the heart grew restless, calmed it, and when intentions turned crooked, they set them straight. When there were desires, they let them go and restrained them, and when the mind was clouded, they cleared it. Whether moving or still, whether hurried or at ease, they acted in this way. Over time, external things no longer disturbed the heart, the spirit (shen) became clear and able to see deeply, and the heart naturally became open and upright, and the way they walked was level. Such a person does not give rise to the thought of claiming favors for oneself and passing faults onto others.

When Wang Wenzheng (Wang Dan) was chief minister, Lai Gong (Kou Zhun) secretly asked him to recommend Kou for the title of envoy-minister. Wang was astonished and said, "How can the posts of general and chief minister be sought in private? Besides, I cannot accept private requests." Kou was displeased by this. Later, when the appointment edict was issued, Kou was named Military Governor of Wusheng Army and Co-Chancellor of the Office of Secretariat and Chancellery (a title for chief ministers). When Kou entered the court to give thanks, he wept and said, "If His Majesty did not understand me, how could I have received such an appointment?" The emperor told him that Wang Dan had recommended him. Only then did Kou feel shame and submit to Wang, admitting that he was not Wang's equal.

When Li Wenzheng (Li Fang) was chief minister, a scholar asked him to arrange an official post. Li judged that the man was truly capable, but he rejected him with a stern face. Later, however, he promoted the man and never told him about it. His disciples asked, "Why did you not let him know?" Li replied, "Appointing worthy men is the ruler's business. If he knew I had recommended him, it would become my favoritism and my use of a chance to grant favors. If all the gratitude goes to me, then who must bear the resentment?" Men like Wang Dan and Li Fang would never take kindness for themselves.

Wei Renpu served as chief minister under the Later Zhou dynasty. Emperor Shizong of Zhou had a hasty temperament and harsh punishments. When an attendant officer offended the emperor, Wei Renpu often took the blame upon himself and used this to try to rescue the man. Of those he saved, about seven or eight out of ten were men who had been condemned. Cao Wuhui (Cao Bin) at first campaigned in Shu together with Wang Quanban, and Wang had killed more than three thousand soldiers who had already surrendered. Cao tried to stop him but failed. When the army returned, the emperor was furious and insisted on a full investigation. Cao then stepped forward to admit responsibility, and because of this Wang was spared punishment. Later, when Cao was again ordered to campaign against the south of the Yangzi, the emperor warned him in person not to kill recklessly as he had in Xichuan. Only then did Cao explain that he had firmly taken the blame at the time because he did not want Wang Quanban to bear the guilt alone. The emperor therefore valued him all the more. Men like these would never pass their faults onto others.

One should understand that those who claim kindness for themselves and pass faults onto others are, precisely because they have not cultivated their hearts, quick to bring calamity upon themselves. How could such people ever understand the principle that cultivating the Dao is cultivating the heart?

Wanting others to praise you while refusing to credit them for their work, and fearing blame while always pushing your faults onto someone else: those who claim others' kindness as their own and shift their wrongdoing onto others only invite resentment and anger. If you seize fame for yourself, who will bear the blame? With the heart tormented by such fire and ice, even the famed physician Bian Que would be alarmed and withdraw.

Shifting Blame, Selling Evil

The Zhuan (Commentary) says: The Supreme One (Taishang, the Daoist honorific for the highest deity) declared, "What keeps me alive is the divine spirit (shen); what destroys me is my own heart." When one shifts calamity onto others, the calamity ultimately returns to oneself. When one passes one's evil onto another, its bitter consequences eventually come back to oneself. Is this not harming oneself?

In the Qingli era, Yao Zi and Wang Hu, the county registrar (zhubu) of Tongcheng in Shuzhou, received an official order together to inspect the tribute grain and wheat at the Dayun Granary. Yao Zi was in charge of supervision. He accepted gold and silver bribes, falsely reported a wheat shortfall of more than eight thousand shi, and then submitted the report to his superiors. Wang Hu saw only his own surname and given name on the documents and at first did not know what lay behind them.

When the affair was exposed, Yao Zi was sent to Shouzhou for investigation. Unwilling to bear the bribery charge alone, he took the gold stand (tuo) and five silver stands that he had originally received, coated them with lacquer to look like lacquered stands, mixed them in with other goods, and had a trusted attendant deliver them to Wang Hu. Expecting that Wang Hu would refuse, Yao Zi first had the messenger claim that the letter had been soaked in a river on the way. He asked Wang Hu to keep the items temporarily at Xin'an Hermitage until he returned to collect them. Wang Hu suspected nothing and accepted them.

Soon after, a superior order from Shouzhou summoned Wang Hu to confront Yao Zi over the bribery. Only then did Wang Hu realize that Yao Zi had framed him, but it was too late for regret. In prison, Yao Zi further and vehemently slandered Wang Hu, claiming that he had indeed taken part in the bribery. The authorities searched Wang Hu's home, found the stands, and summoned merchants to test them. They confirmed that all were pure gold and silver. Wang Hu had no words to answer, and he soon died of rage and grief.

Yao Zi then did everything he could to win over the officials who judged the case. Paying heavy bribes, he shifted all the guilt onto Wang Hu and so escaped himself. Several years later, he served as Assistant Prefect (tongpan) of Luzhou. One day, while touring the Huai River region, he encountered Wang Hu's wandering spirit, which appeared across the riverbank, seized Yao Zi, and would not let him go. From then on, Yao Zi became disoriented and behaved as if mad. He often felt that someone was wrestling with him, and at times blood flowed from his mouth and nose. After waking, these episodes kept recurring for three years, occurring five or six times a year. Physicians, shamans, and Daoist priests could not cure him.

At that time, Qian Yannian was Prefect of Luzhou and Chen Mian was Circuit Transport Commissioner (zhuanyunshi), an official in charge of local revenues and transport. They reported the matter to the court and requested that Song Zhicai, a Daolu (Director of Daoist Affairs), be temporarily sent to the prefecture to treat him. After Song Zhicai arrived, he memorialized to petition Zhenwu Zhenjun (the Perfected Warrior, a deity revered in Daoism). As soon as the memorial was drafted, Yao Zi rose from his sickbed, knelt before the altar of Zhenwu, and recounted in order that the bribery had originally been his own greedy doing, that Wang Hu had not participated, and that after his exposure he had wrongly framed Wang Hu, causing him to die wrongfully. He begged the deity for compassionate forgiveness.

Qian Yannian ordered subordinates to record Yao Zi's words beside him, intending to show them to him once he was clear-headed. When Yao Zi awoke, he was deeply ashamed. That same day he resigned from office and retired, and he died not long after.

When Guo Huangzhong was Military Governor (zhijunshi) of Yun'an Army, the Xixia Palace (Xixia Gong) lay ten li outside the city. One day he went to the palace to burn incense and dreamed that the deity presiding over the temple told him, "Since you have come to this place, the people have benefited greatly. But there is a hidden matter that I dare not fail to tell you. Tomorrow nine men will be brought in on a charge of slaughtering an ox. You should investigate thoroughly so that they are not wrongly condemned."

The next morning, the patrol office indeed brought in nine men. A soldier claimed that he had captured them and wished to claim credit and a reward. In truth, the soldier himself had slaughtered the ox, but he shifted the crime onto the nine men and feigned their arrest to win merit. When Guo Huangzhong questioned him, the soldier confessed.

Alas, one matter stirred Zhenwu Zhenjun, and another had long been known to the deity of the temple. Given this, can framing others and shifting one's wickedness onto them truly succeed? Will the punishment of Heaven and the silent censure of the unseen ever let such a person go?

Eulogy: A person's fortune and misfortune are brought upon themselves, and their good and evil are determined by their own thoughts. Keep to one's proper duties, and external calamities will find it hard to harm them. How lamentable are the treacherous and wicked, whose minds are sly and deep, who set snares and traps that drive others to take up arms against one another. Even when they lurk in hiding, the Lord on High (Shangdi) is watching them.

Buying Empty Renown: Obtaining a false reputation through cunning means.

The record says that the Lady of the Southern Peak (Nanyue Furen), a female immortal revered in Daoism, said: "People follow worldly custom and exhaust their wits in pursuit of good names. This is like burning incense. Its fragrance is smelled by everyone, yet they do not realize that the incense releases it only by consuming itself. Once it has burned away, the fragrance vanishes too. When a name becomes widely celebrated, a person may thereby invite calamity. Therefore, those who have cultivated themselves ridicule such conduct and keep far from it."

Perfected Xiyi (Xiyi Zhenren), a cultivator revered in Daoism, admonished Shen Fang, saying: "Reputation is something prized by people from ancient times to the present, yet it is also something the Creator deeply dreads. Between heaven and earth there is no flawless reputation. When a person's name is about to rise, something else often suffers harm. If reputation matters this much to people, then a reputation bought by stratagem is all the less worth having. Even when name and substance agree, one should not chase it excessively. How much less should one seek a name by deceit and reputation by manipulation?"

Formerly, Sheng Junmin was the son of Sheng Du, Vice Grand Councilor. In his youth he was exceptionally talented and thought highly of himself. After passing the jinshi examination, his fame grew even more brilliant, and no one dared compete with him. Later, at the palace examination, Wang Gongchen was ranked first, and Sheng Junmin was deeply resentful of this. One day he dreamed that he had gone to the netherworld and paid his respects to the chief official who governed the realm of the dead, asking why his fate was so rough. The official said: "You are the reincarnation of Yang Su, Duke of Yue of the Sui dynasty, and you have been reborn several times. Yang Su lived his life in poverty and could never rouse himself, so he received a corresponding retribution. Your life, too, will be like this, with limited fortune. Although your talents differ, your fate will not change because of them."

Upon hearing this, Sheng Junmin was greatly dispirited, and afterward he indeed died without achieving anything. Alas, Yang Su has become Sheng Junmin today, a fall from a great height. Yet he was still reborn as a man, which is still better than being reborn as a woman.

Li Shu once served as a minister in the Ministry of Works and was renowned for his clarity and eloquence in debate. When Xu Ling met him, he admired him greatly and sighed that he could not match him. Li Shu was also quite proud, but he died before his son was born. His wife, Lady Yuan, later remarried Zhao Qi.

One night, Lady Yuan dreamed that Li Shu was weeping and said: "Tomorrow I will be reborn as the daughter of the Liu family, in a narrow lane that runs eastward from the south side of the crossroads on Qidi Fang Street. That family is very poor and has many daughters, so they will surely not keep me. Should I die again, I do not know where I will be reborn. For the sake of our years as husband and wife, quickly go and take me away." Lady Yuan did not answer. Li Shu continued: "You seem to be concerned about Master Zhao, so I will tell him myself."

Soon after, Zhao Qi had the same dream. At dawn he took gold and went to that family, and sure enough he found a newborn baby girl already left in a washbasin. Zhao Qi hurried to rescue the child and brought her home to raise.

Alas, Li Shu, who was once a respected official, has become this infant girl who nearly was abandoned. His fall has been very deep. Is this not more severe than Yang Su's rebirth as Sheng Junmin? Who knows whether this was retribution for his pride and arrogance, and his contempt for others, while his fame was at its height?

The thoughts in one's heart will eventually show themselves outwardly, and reputation is only a surface that attaches itself to real virtue. When virtue is deep and conduct is supremely good, it reveals itself gradually, like light. A reputation that is false is like the "pure discourse" of the Ganling region: its momentum is hollow, and it soon fades. Croton seeds, when misused, cause sores, while gardenia may see its price rise because of a mistaken report. To judge affairs by the brush-method of the Spring and Autumn Annals is to expose precisely the human heart.

The heart harbors treacherous designs.

The Commentary records that the Bodhisattva Holding-the-Earth (Chidi, a Buddhist bodhisattva) said to the Buddha: "Recalling the past, when the Buddha Puguang appeared in the world, I became a bhikshu. Wherever there were road junctions, ferry crossings, or fields that were narrow and treacherous, whenever something was unsuitable or obstructed carts and horses, I leveled it. Sometimes I built bridges, and sometimes I carried sand and earth to pave the roads, labouring diligently for a long time.

"After passing through countless buddhas appearing in the world, the time came when the Buddha Vishabhu dwelt in the world. A king invited the Buddha to receive a vegetarian offering. I was then leveling the ground, waiting for the Buddha's arrival. The Buddha Vishabhu stroked the crown of my head and said, 'You should level your own mind. When the mind is level, the earth of the world will also all be level.' At once my heart opened and my understanding was resolved. I saw that the dust motes of my body were no different from the dust motes of the world. The nature of dust motes does not touch one another, and therefore I attained perfect penetration, and was named Chidi."

Given this, how could the heart not be level, and how could it harbor treachery? Generally speaking, petty people act with insidious deceit, hoping to profit by luck, and such methods are indeed hard to guard against with ordinary calculation.

In the past, the Attendant-in-Waiting Cao Liyong relied on being an old minister with merit, and even the Empress Dowager stood in awe of him. Whenever imperial rewards and edicts were issued from within the palace, Cao Liyong often insisted on not carrying them out. As he repeatedly refused, some matters had been rejected by him three times, yet edicts kept being issued, and only then would he comply. Over time, petty people saw the flaw. Whenever a request had been refused three times, they would petition once more. The Empress Dowager said, "The Attendant-in-Waiting has already refused to do it." The petitioner replied, "I have already had the Attendant-in-Waiting's wet nurse speak on my behalf." Others claimed that they had informed his relatives that the matter had been approved. Cao Liyong in fact knew nothing of this. When the edict was issued again, he believed he was only complying because he had refused three times already, and so he carried it out. The Empress Dowager was greatly angered by this, and the first signs of Cao Liyong's downfall appeared here.

When Chen Guan served as Deputy Envoy of the Three Fiscal Offices, one of his subordinates was an extremely cunning clerk (a petty official in charge of documents). This clerk secretly colluded with powerful favourites, and most affairs within the department were learned through him. Whenever the clerk paid his respects to Chen Guan, Chen would deliberately stretch and yawn, pretending not to dare accept his courtesy. Chen heard that the man was not upright and originally intended to dismiss him. The clerk, knowing Chen's intention, served him with even greater care and thoroughness. For more than a year, official business did not fall into arrears, and Chen gradually came to feel that the man performed his duties well.

Once, Chen Guan hosted guests and instructed this clerk to arrange the banquet. Those who did not understand his intent saw only that he concealed a scheme. The next day, the clerk actually brought a ten-year-old girl and wept on the street outside the Donghua Gate, crying, "Deputy Envoy Chen invited a certain guest on such-and-such a day and had me arrange a banquet, but of the ten items required, not even one was ready. What am I to do now? I have no choice but to sell this girl to raise the money needed." He also colluded with men of the Imperial City Office who were secretly inspecting the city, and had them quietly report the matter to the court. The court believed him and nearly demoted Chen Guan at once. Fortunately, the chief minister stepped forward to explain the situation, and the matter was set aside. Yet more than a year later, Chen Guan was dismissed from office because of it all the same.

Alas, were the intentions of these two men not treacherous? Their methods were so insidious that how could anyone have guarded against them?

Eulogy: Once the mind turns treacherous, it buries grave calamities within itself. Some people smile on the surface while harboring ill will; others seem warm and kind yet conceal sharp traps beneath. When people face one another, their thoughts are often hard to fathom, and fortune or misfortune may descend without warning. They believe their schemes are superior and surpass those of ordinary people, yet they do not realize that the Lord of Heaven, Earth, and all things sees those invisible thoughts of the heart.

Suppressing Others' Strengths: To hold down and disparage the strengths of others.

The records tell that Luo Zhongxin asked Master Guishan: "Mengzi says, 'Those who fully develop their hearts know their nature.' How can one truly understand and bring forth the principle of the original heart?" Guishan replied: "Do not rush to speak of fully developing the heart. First you must clarify what the heart is. The heart should be clear and penetrating, vast and tranquil, and undivided. Only after thoroughly understanding this can one speak of fully developing the heart. If you have not yet understood it, what heart is it that you are developing?"

Chan Master Daji said: "The nature of the human mind is like moonlight in cold weather. When the weather is cold, water freezes into ice; when the weather warms, the ice melts back into water. When sentient beings are deluded, their nature congeals, as if it had become the mind. When they awaken, the mind melts and reveals the nature. It is the same principle." These words are meant to teach people to understand their own mind and nature. Do those who suppress others' strengths understand these principles?

Formerly, Mu Xiu was famous for his poetry and often traveled around the capital region. Someone wrote his poems on the walls of the palace. Emperor Zhenzong of Song saw them, admired them, and asked who had written them. Those beside him replied that it was Mu Xiu. The emperor said, "With such writing, why do the ministers not recommend him?" Duke Jin, however, interjected, "This man's conduct does not match his writing." Upon hearing this, the emperor let the matter drop.

Could Duke Jin's mind truly be called clear and penetrating, vast and tranquil? Did he truly understand how to let the mind melt and reveal the nature? This is also why he found no resting place after his death.

When Zhang Yong (Guaiya) served in Shu, there was an elderly, sickly Recorder-Military Officer (a subordinate in charge of documents) who performed his duties poorly. Zhang reproached him: "Why don't you return home?" The next day, the officer requested to resign and wrote a farewell poem, whose gist was: "The autumn scenery is as thin as official friendships, and the mountain colors are not as deep as the longing to return home." Zhang was astonished and apologized: "This is my fault. Among my colleagues there was a man who could write such poetry, and I did not know it. Is this not a failing on my part?" He then insisted on keeping the officer, and also consoled and recommended him.

Had Zhang not comprehended the principle of fully developing the heart, knowing the nature, and melting the mind to reveal the nature, could he have done this? It is said that because of this he understood life and death while still alive, and could even foreknow the year, month, and day of his death, quietly recording them on his portrait.

An old saying goes: "When a single thought deviates for a moment, the result may be as different as heaven and earth."

On Praise

When a person shows even a small measure of goodness, it is like seeing an auspicious omen. One should nurture it carefully and let it grow gradually, without allowing it to be obstructed or harmed. If jealousy arises, that goodness will be buried. Concealing the virtues of others will in turn make one ever more slack. This harms both oneself and others, and the calamities it invites are deep enough to be truly lamentable.

Guarding One's Own Faults

An old text records that someone asked Master Sun (Sun Zhenren, Sun Simiao), "I would like to hear your instruction on the way of nurturing one's nature (yang xing)." Master Sun replied, "Nurturing one's nature means cultivating and perfecting one's own inborn nature. The key is to make all the virtues (De) complete. Even without taking medicines, one can preserve the body and extend one's years. If De is lacking, then even taking jin dan yu ye (Golden Elixir and Jade Fluid) every day will be of no benefit."

So can people in daily life shield their own faults? If one persistently covers up one's shortcomings, then nothing one does will fail to become a fault, and how could that ever be counted? People do not understand that if they refuse to conceal their faults, then over time they will cultivate a good nature and eventually have no faults left. Such a person may be called a good person of complete De. How far would such a person be from becoming an immortal (xian)?

Long ago, Huang Wanyou cultivated the Way in a remote, uninhabited place in southern Guizhou (Qiannan). Wang Jian invited him to Chengdu and treated him as a teacher. One day Wang Jian asked him about the methods of taking elixirs (fu shi). Huang Wanyou said, "I am not an immortal, and I do not understand the taking of elixirs. I have only been able to keep my mind humble, nourish my qi, act with kindness and generosity, and commit few errors." Later he firmly asked to leave, and no one could bring him back.

Liu Yi came from a family of generations of high officials. He passed the imperial examination as a young man and rose to a senior post within ten years. During the Chongning era, he served as prefect of Hanyang. In his free time he would put on commoner's clothes and travel incognito to the Dabie Mountains, where he often talked with farmers and villagers, asking whether the local administration was convenient and what hardships the people endured. When he found something improper, he weighed whether it could be corrected, and if so, he returned and set about correcting it. Later he met an extraordinary person and was able to transcend the mundane world. Do people like Huang Wanyou and Liu Yi shield their faults? Do they still make mistakes? This is precisely why they cultivated their natures and were finally able to rank among the immortals.

Let me now give a few examples of a lesser grade, so that those who like to shield their faults will know they must truly give them up. Li Ji held a distinguished office, and when he was near death he called his sons and said, "In my whole life I have had no other fault, except that when I was prefect of Hangzhou I happened to buy a collection of Bai Juyi's poems. I regret that." Cai Junmo once specially wrote this account in large characters on fine xiao Wu jian (small Wu paper) to praise his conduct.

When Huang Zongdan was prefect of Suzhou, Wang Zhi served as assistant magistrate (tong pan), an official who helped the prefect handle administrative affairs. One day the government arrested more than a hundred people for illegally minting coins and sent them to prison for examination. Huang Zongdan said happily to Wang Zhi, "These people were all drawn out and caught by my secret scheme." Wang Zhi looked grave and replied, "The case has not yet been investigated. You used a scheme to trap them secretly and sent them to their deaths. Is this really worth rejoicing over?" Upon hearing this, Huang Zongdan immediately rose from his seat and apologized to Wang Zhi, saying, "If not for your reminder, I was nearly about to make a mistake."

In general, the people of earlier times were mostly able to examine themselves in this way. Even today, are there no such people? Those who are willing to become such people have already started on the road to becoming them.

Eulogy:

To conceal and disguise one's faults and illnesses is like falling ill and finding no medicine to cure it. One who errs without repentance, lost and unwilling to turn back, will ultimately bring calamity upon himself. Such a person can hardly receive goodwill, and instead becomes the root of all manner of wrongdoing. Even the ancient sages had faults, but fortunately they did not fear having them known and pointed out. Those who shield their shortcomings and refuse to admit error fall short even of Confucius.

Taking advantage of position and power, coercing and intimidating others.

The records tell us that when Wang Wenzheng (Wang Dan) presided over government affairs, in the early Tianxi reign, Xue Jiansu (Xue Ying), then serving as Jiang-Huai Fayunshi, came to the palace to take leave. Wang Wenzheng spoke of nothing else, saying only, "The wealth of the people of the southeast is already exhausted." When Zhang Shixun, serving as Jiangxi Transport Commissioner, came to take leave, Wang Wenzheng likewise said only, "The revenues the court collects are already too great." In general, to assist the ruler and bestow grace upon the people, one should act in this way.

Today, some who hold high office show no compassion for the prefectural and county officials beneath them, and those county officials in turn show no compassion for the common people. This is precisely the abuse of power to coerce and oppress others. In the past, when Song Shou served as Judge of the Sansi, the court ordered the remission of taxes in arrears throughout the realm, yet sixty-eight prefectures had still not reported their compliance by the deadline. He submitted a memorial identifying problems in the implementation and requested that supervising officials be dispatched to verify the matter within a set time limit. As a result, the taxes verified as truly remitted amounted to several million, and 3,206 imprisoned persons were released.

When Wang Qinruo was in charge of the Office for the Verification of Arrears, he proposed remitting the accumulated arrears throughout the realm in order to broaden the court's grace. From the Qiande to the Xianping reigns, the arrears remitted totaled more than ten million, and over three thousand prisoners were freed. When Chen Buliang served as an official in the Hubu of the Sansi, he discovered that eighteen salt wells in Rongzhou had long since dried up, yet the authorities continued to demand the salt tax according to the old quota, causing 315 households to have their property confiscated. He argued repeatedly until these families were finally permitted to reclaim their seized goods, and he had more than 300,000 in fictitious annual tax quotas exempted. These officials all held positions of authority; did they lack power and dignity? They acted as they did because they did not want the common people to bear ever heavier burdens. Could one who takes advantage of power to coerce others have done this?

There are several other matters worth recording, so that later generations may understand the principle of showing compassion for the people and easing their labor and taxes. In the early Song, Wang Zhifang was ordered to Liangzhe to adjust the miscellaneous taxes. The former regime of the Qian family had levied three □ per mu; upon taking office, he reduced the levy to one □ per mu. When the court blamed him for reducing taxes without authorization, he replied, "Now that Liangzhe has become subjects of the dynasty, how can we still follow the old laws of a regional regime?" The levy of one □ per mu in Liangzhe began with Wang Zhifang.

Wang Gongchen requested that salt be placed under state monopoly in Hebei, but Zhang Fangping strongly opposed the proposal, saying, "The old law of Hebei stipulated that those who traded salt privately were to be executed. Only after the people requested to pay the salt tax according to a fixed quota was the prohibition relaxed. If we now propose a monopoly, we would be reinstating the salt monopoly." The emperor came to his senses and rescinded the proposal that very day. The people, grateful to Zhang Fangping, held Buddhist services in his honor for seven days.

When Li Yunze was prefect of Tanzhou, he abolished several levies the Ma regime had imposed on the local people. A silk tax assessed per household was called "land tax silk"; each house was required to pay thirteen chi of silk, called "house-levy silk"; and each plow ox owed four □ of rice annually, payable even after the ox had died, which was called the "dead-bones tax." When Chen Shiqing served as prefect of Guangzhou, the city suffered the abuse of forcing each household to buy salt. He memorialized the court requesting its abolition. Thereafter the people of Guangzhou could finally clothe and feed themselves and no longer suffered such hardship. The people of Guangzhou sang, "Father Shao and Mother Chen have relieved us of two hardships." This was because the former prefect Shao Ye had dug moats within the city where boats could moor, sparing the people from the wind and waves, while Chen Shiqing abolished the abuse of forced salt purchases.

Alas, rather than coerce the people through power and thereby invite their resentment and the anger of the gods, how is that comparable to generosity and compassion that wins the praise of all? Have you not heard that when joy gathers, blessings follow, and when resentment accumulates, calamity comes?

The eulogy says: The state of Qi was mighty and powerful, able to defend its own land and repel the Di peoples; at the covenant of Jiagu with Lu, it displayed its strength and caused the opposing army to withdraw; and Lin Xiangru, with a single burst of anger, rebuked the King of Qin and upheld the dignity of Zhao. Only one who can quell disputes and rescue people from peril may truly be called powerful. One who destroys living things and slaughters the people is not even as good as wolves, tigers, and leopards.

Indulging in violence, one kills and harms living beings.

The scripture says: According to the Chidi Jing (Scripture of the Earth-Holding), taking life causes beings to fall into the three evil destinies of hells, hungry ghosts, and animals. Even if they are later reborn as humans, they will still suffer five kinds of retribution.

First, because they once caused beings to suffer, when they die and their bodies lose their warmth, they fall into hell and endure all manner of torment. Second, because they lacked compassion and acted contrary to human decency, once the retribution of hell is over they fall again into the animal realm, where they are slaughtered by others. Third, because they indulged in tastes, once the retribution of the animal realm ends they fall into the realm of hungry ghosts, where they endure thirst and hunger for a long time. Fourth, because they once cut short the lives of others, even after the retribution of the hungry ghosts ends and they are reborn as humans, their lives are often brief. Fifth, because they made living creatures suffer greatly when killing them, after rebirth as humans they are not only short-lived but also often sickly.

Are the teachings the Buddha spoke not worthy of belief? It is only regrettable that people do not understand that humans and animals, though different in form, share the same life. Simply turn your gaze upon yourself. When you fall ill, would you willingly accept death? No, you would seek a physician and consult diviners, hoping to recover quickly. When your final hour approaches, would you willingly accept death? No, you would pray to Heaven and Earth, hoping to extend your life. If you fear death, do other living beings not fear it? If you cling to life, do they not wish to live?

Long ago, Zhang Daoji was fond of hunting. Near the graves of his father and grandfather there were large groves and foothills where birds and beasts gathered. Every day he led several wicked young men to hunt in that area, setting out nets on all sides, which they called "covering the heavens." Each net could catch hundreds of creatures. They did not have time to collect them one by one, so they trampled and crushed the animals from above, then carried them off in separate groups.

Once, beside the Mingyang Temple, he shot a young rabbit. The rabbit was small and had a notch in one of its white ears. From then on, Zhang Daoji became dazed and irrational, as though he had gone mad. He burned all his usual hunting equipment and built a small hermitage beside the temple, where he lived day and night.

One day, two rabbits came straight to him and spoke: "I have been a rabbit for three hundred years, living in Zhang's eastern grave, and today you have killed me." The other said: "I have been a rabbit for one hundred and eighty years, hiding beside the Mingyang Temple. Long ago I was clawed by a hawk and lost one ear, and I struggled hard to escape. Since then twenty years have passed. I have always been able to evade hawks, hounds, and nets, but I never expected to be struck by your crossbow bolt. I have already lodged a complaint with Heaven, and you must repay me with your life." Before long, Zhang Daoji indeed died.

Liu Xiang also loved hunting. Once his enthusiasm was aroused, he hunted without pause regardless of cold or heat, and the living beings he harmed over the years were countless. In the seventh year of the Shaoxing era, he suddenly contracted a strange illness. Three black things resembling turtles grew on his back, hidden between skin and flesh. After a few days, their heads and feet had fully formed, and they looked remarkably lifelike. Later they could even move. When someone lured them with fish, the turtles stretched out their heads as though about to eat. After a while, they began to bite Liu Xiang with their mouths, and the pain was unbearable. This torment lasted for more than a month before he died.

On the fifth day after his death, Liu Xiang spoke through the mouth of his daughter-in-law: "Because I killed so many living beings during my lifetime, I have received this retribution. Now the netherworld tribunal, the office that judges the offenses of the dead, is punishing me severely. Quickly take out my hunting equipment and burn it. Perhaps this will let them know that I repent."

Since this is so, how can one indulge in violence and kill or harm living beings? Dogs that injure people and bite and kill living things are among the foremost of the ten evil karmas. How can such conduct be left unchecked?

Punishment is meant to stop crime, and armies are meant to resist disorder. Cases should be judged with compassion, and the dead in war should be buried according to funeral rites. These examples show that killing should occur only when there is no other choice. We should care for the people and cherish all living things—how could we distinguish between the noble and the lowly? Those who harm living beings may have human faces, but their hearts are like those of beasts.

Cutting cloth without cause.

The scriptures say that, according to the Daoist Canon (Daozang), the three stars of the Weaver Maid preside over silk and treasures, while the four stars of the Woman constellation preside over making and cutting cloth. If so, how could anyone cut fabric without good reason? Have you never heard the story that the silkworm is the transformed form of Horse-Ming?

Long ago, the great master Horse-Ming, a Buddhist monk, had once been king of the kingdom of Vaishali in a previous life. There was a group of people there with horse-shaped bodies who had no clothes to wear. The king used his spiritual powers to transform himself into a silkworm, so that these people could have clothing. Later, the king was reborn in central India. The horse-people missed him and cried out in grief without stopping, so he came to be called “Horse-Ming.” He was the twelfth patriarch in the Buddhist tradition.

In general, making a single silk garment costs the lives of a thousand silkworms. According to Buddhist teaching, even wearing silk means one must repay the debt one owes. How much worse, then, to cut cloth carelessly and without cause?

For this reason, Emperor Wen of Han’s beloved consort never let her skirts trail on the ground. Emperor Wenzong of Tang once raised his sleeve to show his ministers, saying that the garment had already been washed three times. Duke Wen of Jin did not wear several layers of silk; Zixia’s clothes were so worn that they hung like a quail; Ji Wenzi’s concubine did not wear silk, nor did Yan Ying’s. Dong Wei sewed scraps of old silk together to make a garment he called “A Hundred Knots,” and Ji Tong had no spare clothes. All of them acted this way to cherish their good fortune.

Have you also never heard that those who cut cloth without cause are punished after death? In the early Shaoxing era, Guo Yinfeng, the daughter of Guo of Puzhou, was taken by an official runner to the underworld authorities. She saw many sinners there. Among them was a woman named Zhao Shier, tied up beneath a corridor. In front of her lay piles of fabric: whole lengths cut into pieces, as well as garments both new and old. Yinfeng asked what crime she had committed. The runner said, “She loved wearing fine silks and satins, wasted fabric, and cut up whole lengths of cloth. Now she has been ordered to sew every scrap back together and restore it to whole lengths before she can be released.”

A few days after the death of Quan, the wife of Zhao Shizhou, she sent a message through her maidservant Laixi: “In life I wasted silk wrappings, shoes, socks, and other things. I also used more water than usual to wash my hair and feet. The underworld authorities are punishing me for this, flogging me every day. The suffering is unbearable. Please tell Shizhou what has happened to me.” When the whole family heard this, they were overcome with grief and sorrow.

Given all this, how could anyone think that cutting cloth without cause is not a sin? And if one deliberately beautifies one’s appearance to entice others toward sexual misconduct, the guilt is even graver. How could one fail to take this as a warning?

A verse of praise says: In spring, weavers work through the night, gathering tiny threads bit by bit until they have woven a whole bolt of cloth. Fine embroidered robes are worn by the wealthy in their mansions behind high walls, while coachmen and servants receive only thin, flimsy garments. Who would imagine that, to weave this cloth, the workers labor beside cold looms, their fingers even frostbitten, yet are unable to stop? Gongsun Hong’s mother once reproached him for using a coarse-cloth quilt to win a reputation for frugality.

Do not slaughter animals in ways that violate ritual propriety and righteousness.

An ancient book tells of people whipping live fish, cutting out their flesh to make sashimi, and others putting live crabs into a trough so they could enjoy their flavor while still alive. These acts are cruel in the extreme. If they lead to rebirth in the three evil destinies—the Buddhist realms of hell, hungry ghosts, and animals—the retribution comes swiftly, and there is little more to say. Do they not know that animals are sentient and fundamentally no different from human beings?

Everyone knows to honor and love their parents. After Deng Zhi shot down a mother ape, her young one hurried to pull out the arrow, staunch the wound, and carry her away on its back. Did it not love its mother? Everyone knows to cherish their children. When He Ruanshe shot a mother stork, she endured her pain and used her beak to push her chicks down to the ground. Did she not love her young? Everyone knows to respect a husband. Among the wild elephants of the Huan kingdom, when a male elephant died, the females gathered around him and refused to leave. They stayed until they had done all they could to bury him, and only then dispersed. Did they not honor their mate? Everyone knows to cherish a wife. Zhang Ziming shot a female mandarin duck, put her in a pot, and boiled her. When the male saw this from a distance, he ignored the scalding water, leaped into the pot, cried out once, and died. Did he not love his mate?

Everyone knows to remember kindness. The mountain god once saved a flock of parrots. When they had lived in the distant mountains, the local birds and beasts had protected them and never harmed them. After the parrots left, a fire broke out in the mountains. They called to one another, flew down to the water to soak their wings, then rose into the air and shook the water over the flames to put them out. The mountain god saw that they valued gratitude and caused the fire to die down. Did they not know how to repay kindness?

Everyone knows how to hold a grudge. When Liu Yongxi was magistrate of Qiansheng County, a guest came to visit. Liu served him steamed buns and gave one to his own dog as well. The guest said, “The ancients mocked people for giving food to pigs and dogs. How much more so when it is precious food!” Hearing this, the dog refused to eat, glared at the guest, and left. That night, while the guest slept, the dog pushed open the door and went in. Sensing its intentions, the guest climbed onto a roof beam to hide. The dog did indeed leap onto the bed, and when it found the guest was gone, it roared angrily and hurled itself against the furniture with all its strength, eventually killing itself. Did it not know how to hold a grudge?

Everyone knows how to be attached to a master. Wei Dajian kept a horse. As it was dying, he prayed to it: “I have benefited greatly from your strength; you have helped me very much. Now that you are ill, I have treated you and done all I can. If you truly cannot be saved, you may go outside the gate to die. Please do not die in front of me, for I cannot bear to see it.”

The horse knelt on its two forelegs, as if bidding farewell to its master. Then it stood up, cried mournfully, and died just after leaving the gate. Could it really have felt no attachment to its master?

People know how to care for orphans, just like the cat recorded by Han Yu. Two cats were raising a kitten together when one of them suddenly died. The other nursed the kitten the dead cat had left behind. Could people really not know how to care for orphans?

People know how to heed advice, just like the bees to whom the monk Renxi made a solemn appeal. Renxi once planned to build a Buddhist shrine, and someone donated a huge sandalwood tree. When the monk went to cut it down, tens of thousands of large bees had gathered in the tree, and the workers dared not go near. The monk addressed them solemnly: “You have come here because of past evil deeds. I am now undertaking a Buddhist work. If you do not leave, and are still here three days from now, I will set fire to you.” When the appointed time came, not a single bee remained in the tree. Could people really not know how to heed advice?

People know how to cultivate the Way and attain realization, just like the five hundred bats in a hollow tree in the South Sea. One day, a group of merchants stopped beneath the tree to rest and light a fire. One of them recited the Abhidharma Pitaka, a Buddhist treatise collection. Before long, the flames spread and the dead tree caught fire. The five hundred bats, reluctant to stop listening to the Dharma, could not bear to leave and all perished in the flames. Later they were reborn as humans, each exceptionally clever and perceptive. They left home to pursue the Way and eventually all attained sagehood. Afterward, King Kanishka and Venerable Parsva assembled five hundred sages in Kashmir to compile the Vibhasha treatise. Those five hundred sages were the very same five hundred bats of old. Could people really not know how to cultivate the Way and attain realization?

In general, humans and animals are fundamentally no different. The differences between them arise from differences in blessings, karmic forces, and bodily forms. Have you never heard of the power of refraining from killing? Long ago, Angulimala was a king who had a great appetite for killing. Later, he repented, left home, and practiced as a mendicant. When he came to a household, a woman there was in labor and near death. Her family brought him to her and begged for help. Angulimala said, “I have only just entered the Way. How could I save her? Let me go back and ask the Buddha.” When he returned, the Buddha told him, “Go quickly to the woman’s bedside and say aloud: ‘Since I began following the way of the sages, I have never taken a life.’ When she hears these words, she will be able to give birth safely.” Angulimala did as he was told, and the child was indeed born safely.

Alas, merely praising someone for “not killing living beings” has such great power to avert calamity. Then surely killing living creatures by cooking them without just cause must also have a profound effect, leading people into ruin and suffering.

The praise says:

A man of learning should not kill animals such as dogs and pigs without proper cause. In ancient times, people did not eat meat until they were seventy; this shows how cautiously they regarded the taking of life. Serving guests or making offerings in ritual were the only reasons to do so out of necessity. To indulge one’s appetite by casually taking up a knife and slaughtering animals is to give free rein to selfish desires. When you see a living creature injured, you should feel sorrow as though you yourself had been injured.

“Scattering and abandoning the five grains” means carelessly throwing away and wasting food.

The account says: The Celestial Granary, which governs the Five Grains, is distributed among the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions and is overseen by the Lodge of Danger. Most people regard eating as their foremost concern. If they go a day without food, they feel as though they are being tormented by the fire of hunger. For this reason, the sages valued farming and grain. The Son of Heaven plowed the fields himself to encourage agriculture, and in spring and summer prayed to the Lord on High for a plentiful harvest. How, then, could the Five Grains be casually discarded?

In the past, the region of the Three Rivers suffered a famine, and grain prices soared. The people could only dig up yams and gather wild kudzu to stave off hunger; roughly half of them died. At that time, Wang Fajin had completed his cultivation and was meant to become an immortal and ascend to Heaven. After ascending, he pleaded with the Lord of Heaven on behalf of the people.

The Lord of Heaven said: “Among the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, people receive the harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth, obtain human form, and are born in the Central Land. Such an opportunity is not easily come by. Heaven moves the original Qi through the four seasons, while Earth bears the essences of the Five Phases and brings forth the Five Grains and the hundred fruits to nourish the people. Sadly, people do not understand Heaven and Earth’s nourishing kindness. They waste food carelessly and disdain clothing woven from silk and hemp. Farmers and women who spin and weave labor hard, yet go hungry and poorly clothed; people show no compassion for their toil and have not the slightest regard for what they produce. This is why they are punished by the spirits and receive no protection from Heaven and Earth.

“Recently, the Earth Offices and the spirits of the sacred mountains and rivers have submitted reports, saying that people in the world disdain and throw away the Five Grains and do not value the essentials of food and clothing. Some days ago, I ordered the Prefecture of Mount Taihua to withdraw the spirit of the Five Grains, so that crops could no longer grow and hunger would gradually arise. This was meant to warn the people and discipline their hearts. But not long ago I received the compassionate, life-preserving decree of the Most High, who holds that the Great Dao cherishes life and that all beings should first be saved. The recent famine was indeed brought upon the people by their own actions. Yet they do not know where the calamity came from, and so have no way to repent, confess their wrongs, and seek forgiveness. You are now to become an attendant boy in the Upper Palace and serve in the Celestial Court. For now, you may return to the human world and tell the people everywhere, so they will understand the need to repent and cherish grain, farming, and sericulture, and dare not waste them again. In doing so, you will also quietly accumulate hidden De.”

Wang Fajin accepted the command and returned to the human world. After delivering the message, he departed again.

Liu Yuanzhen was also a person who had attained the Dao. When he was young, he dreamed that a Daoist fed him a peach. From then on, he could practice grain avoidance—that is, live without ordinary food. One day, on a road in the Zhongnan Mountains, he met a nobleman accompanied by an impressive retinue. He said to him, “Please give more thought to the people.” The nobleman nodded in agreement. A fellow traveler asked, “Who was that man?”

Yuanzhen said, “That was a mountain spirit. The Supreme Emperor saw that the wheat harvest was abundant, yet people did not know how to value it, so he ordered them to collect two tenths of it. That is why I pleaded on the people’s behalf.” Before long, violent wind and rain came, and twelve tenths of the wheat were lost. This makes it even clearer that the Five Grains must not be discarded carelessly. Moreover, each person has a fixed measure of blessings to enjoy. Suppose someone has a thousand strings of cash. If they spend a hundred strings a day, it will last ten days; if they spend one string a day, it will last a thousand days. Which is better: enough for only ten days, or enough for a thousand?

In the past, the Minister of Works Feng Ji often said, “When I was young, I saw Master Xuedou—a high-ranking monk—teach people to cherish their blessings. He said, ‘People die when they have exhausted their blessings and emoluments, whether their lives are long or short.’” After Yuan Houzhi died and returned to life, he said that when he first arrived in the underworld, the official in charge told him, “Your blessings and emoluments are not yet exhausted. In the future, you will hold office in both highest government councils of the Song, but you must cherish your blessings.” From then on, Yuan Houzhi was frugal in every way. Even with a bowl of rice, he would always remove some before eating; he never took more than he needed in his daily provisions. Later, he did indeed rise to the highest offices of state and lived past seventy. If this is so, how could someone with meager blessings fail to cherish them?

One day, Master Zhifeng of Wuyun Mountain in Hangzhou was sitting in meditation in the Hall of Samantabhadra when he suddenly saw a spirit kneeling before him. The master asked, “Who are you?” The spirit replied, “I am a guardian spirit of the precepts.” The master asked, “I am often concerned that I may have faults from the past. Do you know of any?” The spirit said, “What offenses could the master have committed? There is, however, one small fault. Since you have asked, I dare not withhold it. The water left after washing your alms bowl is also an offering from your donors, yet you often pour it away. This is not right. From now on, you will suffer a minor illness.” With that, the spirit vanished. Later, Zhifeng did indeed develop a stomach ailment that lasted thirteen years. Alas, even leftover food and the water used to wash an alms bowl should not be thrown away carelessly—how much more so other things?

The eulogy says: A guard once discarded food, and Emperor Xuanzong of Tang commented on his bearing; someone used rice to taunt a thief, and Shixing punished him severely. Food sustains human life, and its significance must not be taken lightly. To honor food by calling it “Heaven” is an expression of the deepest reverence. A single grain of maize or millet is more precious than pearls and jade.

[Do not] tire or harm living beings.

The biography says that when Shao Bowen first entered government service, he sought the advice of Master Cheng Yi. Master Cheng said, “Whenever you carry out an official order, if you can ease its demands even a little where the work is most urgent, the people will benefit by that much.” Alas, these words of Master Cheng may well be called benevolent. In general, everyone wants peace and stability. Do I not want them for myself? Everyone wants bodily comfort. Do I not want it for myself? To enjoy ease oneself while making others toil and live in distress is truly unkind.

Here are several examples of earlier officials who, while governing the people, dared not cause them even the slightest unnecessary trouble. I hope everyone will learn of them and follow their example.

When Lü Wenjing (Lü Yijian) served as the Circuit Intendant for Criminal Justice in the Two Zhe regions, the court was undertaking large-scale construction of palaces and temples in the capital, and timber was being felled in the south. The officials in charge set an extremely harsh deadline, and some people died under the burden of the labor. The authorities then denounced them as fugitives and arrested and detained their wives and children. Lord Lü submitted a memorial describing what had happened. He pointed out that in the depths of winter, when the rivers ran low, the people struggled greatly to haul the timber. The labor deadline should be extended a little, he urged, and soldiers could transport the timber once the waterways were flowing freely again. This, he said, would be the proper course. The emperor was pleased and accepted his proposal. This showed how much he cared for the people and worried about affairs of state; later, he was entrusted with important responsibilities.

When Sima Chi was serving as county commandant of Guangshan, a fire broke out in the palace, and every county was ordered to supply bamboo and timber. The prefecture demanded that the county deliver them within three days. Sima Chi considered that large bamboo did not grow locally, and that it would be impossible to obtain it from Qizhou or Huangzhou and deliver it within three days. He therefore agreed on a different deadline with the people, stipulating that anyone who missed it would be punished. Sheng Du, who was then prefect, heard of this and was furious. Later, Guangshan delivered its bamboo earlier than any of the other counties.

When Lord Fan Wenzheng (Fan Zhongyan) was stationed in Qingzhou, the region north of the Yellow River was suffering from a grain shortage. Tax grain from Qingzhou had to be transported to a collection depot in Bozhou, and the people were made to suffer greatly by the burden of transporting it. Yet grain prices north of the Yellow River were not high at the time. Lord Fan therefore told the people to pay their grain tax in their own prefecture, at a rate of three huan per hu of grain. He then assigned aides to take money to Bozhou, set up a granary there, and offer to buy grain at a price above the market rate. The generous purchase price drew many sellers, and within five days they had bought all the grain they needed. The money left over was enough to last for many years. Lord Fan then returned the surplus to the people, household by household, in proportion to the amount each had paid.

When Wang Ji served as registrar of Longxi County, every prefecture in Fujian was ordered to collect crane feathers for arrow fletching. Crane feathers were not commonly found there, and the authorities’ demands were so harsh that the people could hardly bear them. Lord Wang told the people to pay with goose feathers for the time being, while he promptly sent a memorial to the court by courier. The court accepted his proposal and extended it to neighboring prefectures.

Alas, these officials governed the people in this way. Those who weary and trouble the people—when they read these accounts, can they not feel ashamed?

The eulogy says:

Ease and peace are what everyone wishes for. Three days each year are enough to call the people out for labor. Trees should be felled in the proper season, and nets should not be cast too often. In this way, the mountains and rivers can remain undisturbed, and birds and beasts can breed and thrive. Yet mediocre people upset this balance, harming the lives of wild ducks and cranes alike.

End of Volume Seventeen of The Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution.

The Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution, Volume Eighteen

Transmitted by Li Changling, with a eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Destroy other people’s property and seize their valuables and treasures.

The commentary says: Even if it is unintentional, accidentally causing another person’s household to collapse is already a grave offense. To deliberately ruin someone’s livelihood in order to take their treasures is a great evil. Here, I will give a few examples of good deeds that can help people who have lost everything rebuild their livelihoods, in the hope that those who later hold high office and oversee affairs…

If people encounter situations like this and all handle them in this way, they can truly be said to have helped those who have already suffered a loss.

When Liu Chang was prefect of Yangzhou, there was a pond in the prefecture called Leibei that stored water. It had originally belonged to the people, but the authorities later seized it to hold water for the convenience of grain transport by river. Years later, the pond fell into disrepair, and grain transport never again relied on it. After that, powerful clans took possession of it. The landowners appealed many times, but to no avail. As soon as Liu Chang took office, he ordered the land returned. Thirty-six families who owned the land, more than three hundred men and women in all, regained it and no longer had to suffer hunger and cold.

When Hou Shuxian was magistrate of Si County, many plots of land there had been confiscated by the authorities. The Li family’s estate at Chengzhuang covered ten li in every direction. A river ran through it, and the land was especially fertile. The estate had a hundred tenant households, all of whom had become prosperous. The authorities had initially valued it at fifteen thousand strings of cash, but it had not yet been sold. Chancellor Jia Weigong then wanted to raise the price by another five thousand strings. Chen Daogu was sent to discuss the increase with Hou Shuxian. Hou sighed and said, “Does the Vice Minister know the full story? In the time of Emperor Taizu of Song, Li Cheng was in charge of the liquor office. Because he failed to protect the property under his care in time, it was damaged by a flood. The authorities estimated the loss at five thousand strings and ordered Li Cheng to repay it. At that time, the court had drawn funds from the Directorate of Finance and was purchasing arrow shafts made from carved feathers, materials for bows and crossbows, and timber from the people in advance, to supply the army. Later, when Li Chongjin rebelled, the court was discussing a military campaign, but not one of the goods ordered in advance had been collected. Taizu flew into a rage. Everyone who owed the authorities money was entered on a register, and their property was confiscated. Li Cheng had not in fact received any government money in advance, but the officials feared the emperor’s authority and dared not make distinctions. They confiscated all his property. Li Cheng’s descendants were thus brought to ruin. It is a pity that the Chancellor did not investigate this injustice and return the land. Now it would be better to reduce the price by another five thousand strings and let Li Cheng’s descendants buy it back. The authorities will already have gained twice their original return, and Li’s descendants will not be driven into hardship. What do you think, Vice Minister?”

Chen Daogu said, “I truly did not know the reasons behind this. If it benefits people, what is there that we cannot do?” So he reduced the price by five thousand strings and left.

Hou Shuxian then followed this plan, summoning Li Cheng’s descendants and telling them what had happened. They all wept and bowed, saying, “We are deeply grateful for your kindness, but our family is so poor that we cannot afford to buy it.” Hou then summoned the tenants and said to them, “Your families were once poor. By renting and farming the land at the Li estate, you prospered; now you are all well off, with granaries at home, and have become wealthy households. The authorities are going to sell this land. The Li family is poor and lacks only the money to buy it. If the land falls into someone else’s hands, the new owner will surely empty the granaries and tear down the houses. You too will lose your livelihood and have to leave. How could you continue to enjoy these rich returns for long? It would be better for all one hundred households to pool their money and have the Li family buy the land. I can arrange an extension for the payment deadline. That way the land can return to the Li family, and you can continue renting it for many years. Both sides will benefit. Wouldn’t that be best?” Everyone bowed in thanks and said, “We are willing to do as you say.” Thus Li Cheng’s descendants regained the estate.

Can those who ruin other people’s livelihoods and seize their property act in this way? It is a pity they do not understand that the causes of Heaven and Hell arise precisely from such deeds. What could they possibly be thinking to dare act like this?

The encomium says:

People establish their households through hard labor. Those who came before leave behind the family estate, and those who come after inherit it. People give from below and receive from above in order to sustain their lives. But who would plunder the wealth others have accumulated, as a bandit does? Evil rulers are like jackals and wolves; harsh laws and orders are like fierce tigers. The gods watch over your homes, and the spirits peer through your gates.

Some people block waterways and set fires, harming the people.

The commentary says: Floodwaters and raging fires are the gravest disasters in the world. Yet now there are people who deliberately break dikes, unleash floodwaters, and set fires to harm the people. Can their guilt really be considered slight? The High Perfected, beings of exalted rank among the heavenly gods, will not pardon them, and the Bright Spirits will surely punish them.

In the second year of the Tiansheng era, a section of the Yellow River embankment at Daming Prefecture suddenly burst open in several places. The river poured across the land with tremendous force. At the time, Duke Han Wei was prefect of the Northern Capital. A courier suddenly arrived on horseback with a report: a giant turtle at the breach had long been causing floods. When the turtle stayed submerged, the river remained calm; when it rose to the surface, the waters overflowed. Now the giant turtle had surfaced. What should be done?

Zheng Gui, an envoy who had been dispatched there, happened to reach the site of the breach. He shot and killed the turtle with an arrow. Later, the turtle brought a complaint against Zheng Gui in the underworld. King Yama sent people to arrest him and have him face the turtle. That day, the Perfected Lord Zhenwu, a deity revered in Daoism, happened to descend upon Mount Youguo to inspect the registers of life and death. Zheng Gui was thereby cleared of blame by the Perfected Lord. The Lord then hurled the demon turtle from the breach into the sky and shattered it into fine dust, so that such a creature could no longer harm people in the human world. He also ordered a divine messenger to escort Zheng Gui back to the human world.

So, is it permissible to deliberately breach a dike?

Li Yuan served his mother with great devotion. One evening, a traveler suddenly arrived seeking lodging. Li Yuan happened to be cooking a chicken by the stream, and the traveler assumed it was being prepared for him. When the meal was ready, he saw that there was only coarse rice and became furious. He refused to eat and got up to leave. Li Yuan explained plainly, “My mother is ill and wants to eat meat. There is no other meat in the mountains, so I cooked the chicken. It was not meant for you.” On hearing this, the traveler grew even angrier.

That night, the traveler rode the wind from behind the house and set a fire. The flames were about to reach Li Yuan’s home when heavy rain suddenly fell and the wind shifted against the fire. The flames were soon extinguished. The neighbors then hurried over to see what had happened and found someone lying in the fire, still clutching a torch. Looking closely, they recognized the traveler. He said, “I am a knight errant who came here while fleeing. I never imagined the host would treat me this way. As I set the fire, I clearly saw a mighty god standing in the air, commanding the flames to turn back. That is why the fire turned and burned me instead. I am about to die.” With that, he breathed his last.

So, is it permissible to set fires and harm people?

The commentary says:

A government official responsible for governing the people who cuts corners and seeks an easy life, avoids responsibility when trouble arises, and makes no preparations against a flood—how is that different from personally breaching a dike and releasing the water? Failing to do one’s utmost to put out a fire is much like setting one deliberately. When disaster strikes, such officials blame Heaven’s calamities and evade their own failures in human affairs. Judging responsibility according to what actually happened, deliberate wrongdoing and negligent dereliction are no different in this respect.

Disrupting another person’s plans and causing their achievements to fail.

An old book says: When someone accomplishes great deeds, the credit may belong to that person, but in reality the ancestral temples and state altars—the government and ancestral rites—and the people under Heaven all depend on those achievements. How can those without ability disrupt that person’s plans and then hope for their failure? On the surface, they have destroyed another’s achievement; in reality, they have damaged the state’s great affairs. The consequences of such conduct are no small matter. How could it carry no blame?

In the battle of Huanzhou and Shuozhou, Yang Ye was ordered to assist Pan Mei in advancing against the enemy. After reaching enemy territory, they captured Huanzhou. Yang Ye said to Pan Mei, “The enemy is at the height of its strength, so we cannot engage them for now. We should lead the army out by the Great Stone Road and first send word to the commanders defending Yunzhou and Shuozhou. Once the main army has left Daizhou, they should lead their troops out ahead of us. When our forces reach Yingzhou, the enemy will certainly come out in full strength to meet us. Then the officials and people of Shuozhou can quickly enter Shijia Valley, where a thousand soldiers with powerful crossbows should guard the entrance. The cavalry should all be stationed in the central route to support them. This will ensure the safety of the people of all three prefectures.”

The supervising commissioner Wang Shen opposed this plan, preventing it from being carried out. He even challenged Yang Ye: “Are you saying this because you’re afraid to die?” Yang Ye replied, “I am not afraid to die. Once I set out, I will die in battle.” He then instructed Pan Mei: “After I leave, you can station troops at the valley entrance, with the crossbowmen arranged on the left and right flanks to support me. When I have fought my way here, send out your troops to attack. We are sure to win a great victory.” Pan Mei agreed and deployed the army at the valley entrance as Yang Ye had advised.

Later, Wang Shen assumed that the enemy had already fled and, eager to claim the credit, led the troops away. When Yang Ye arrived and saw not a single soldier, he beat his chest and wept. He had no choice but to fight fiercely on his own. He killed several hundred enemies with his own hands and was struck by more than ten spear thrusts. Exhausted, he was captured by the enemy. He refused food for three days and died. If Wang Shen had not obstructed him, could Yang Ye’s achievement really have failed to come about?

Thus, those who understand the matter know this: anyone entrusted with responsibility must make thorough arrangements in advance. During the battle of Beizhou, Ming Gao was the commanding general, but many requests from the army were blocked by the Privy Council Commissioner Xia Song. Wen Yanbo, then vice director of state affairs, was deeply dissatisfied. He volunteered to go to the front to supervise the battle and personally petitioned the emperor: “I ask to be authorized to make decisions at my own discretion while with the army, without needing to seek approval for every matter afterward.” The emperor granted his request.

After Wen Yanbo arrived, Dong Xiu and Liu Bing, soldiers from the city garrison, proposed digging a tunnel into the city. They then dug day and night, hiding in the tunnel during the day and dumping the excavated soil into the water at night. When the tunnel was complete, its exit opened inside the parade ground. The soldiers emerged and climbed the city wall, killing its defenders. The government troops then followed, climbing up one after another on ropes. The rebel commander Wang Ze fled with his subordinates Zhang Luan, Bu Ji, and others. Zhang Luan and Bu Ji died in the fighting, while Wang Ze was captured by the government troops. Xia Song continued to claim that the man they had captured might not be the real Wang Ze. Only when Wang Ze was brought to the capital was Xia Song left speechless.

If Wen Yanbo had not made plans in advance, could this achievement really have been brought to failure?

Du Yu, the renowned Jin general who pacified Eastern Wu, owed his success to the plans of Yang Hu, another Jin commander. Fang Xuanling was skilled at devising plans, while Du Ruhui, a leading minister in the early Tang, always knew how to follow and support them. Once their undertakings were complete, their achievements and reputations were both illustrious. Yet narrow-mindedness alone brought the Qi kingdom to ruin and led to their own utter defeat. Since the other side had already lost, why should I take further action?

Damaging other people’s belongings so that they can no longer use them.

An ancient book says, “Damaging other people’s belongings so that they can no longer use them.” The Taishang Ganying Pian lists this as a prohibition because it too is an act of ill intent. Ill intent is itself sinful; at times, moreover, it can lead to great disasters and give rise to endless resentment. Such people deserve especially severe retribution. How, then, could we fail to take the destruction of others’ belongings, leaving them unusable, as a warning?

Long ago, there was a Huayan monk who had mastered the Avatamsaka Sutra and loved to lecture on the scriptures. He became famous, and many people studied under him. He took a keen interest in the monks’ everyday vessels, such as bottles and alms bowls, and more than three hundred monks who attended his lectures eagerly copied his example. Among them was one monk whose cultivation was especially advanced. But illness confined him to bed, and he had not left his quarters for several months. He had a precious glass alms bowl that he cherished greatly.

One day, a monk who had come from far away had no bottle or bowl for the communal meal. Someone suggested that he borrow one from the sick monk for a while. At first, the sick monk refused. After the others urged him repeatedly, he finally agreed, but sternly insisted that the bowl be returned as soon as the meal was over. Later, the monk who had borrowed it was taking it back when he stumbled, and the bowl fell to the ground and shattered. The sick monk flew into a rage, cursing him for a long time before finally stopping.

Several years later, the Huayan monk moved to a monastery on Mount Song. The sick monk’s disciple and the monk who had borrowed the bowl were both among those attending his lectures. One day, as Huayan was preaching, he suddenly heard the wind and water outside the monastery rustling ominously. Knowing that something strange was about to happen, he quickly called the monk who had borrowed the bowl to sit behind him. Before long, a giant python about ten zhang long, eyes glaring and jaws gaping, charged straight into the monastery. As everyone began to panic and flee, Huayan stopped them. Holding it back with his monk’s staff, he said, “Among the three hundred listeners, you were once the most advanced in cultivation. But because you were so prone to anger and would not heed my advice, you have come to this state. Now, over a single bowl, do you still want to harm that monk?” Then he instructed everyone to guide the python through the Three Refuges and the three reverences, and to recite scriptures and incantations on its behalf, repenting for it and helping it find release. Only then did the python coil up and leave.

Huayan summoned the sick monk’s disciple and told him, “That giant python was your master. He had cultivated through many kalpas and was on the verge of attaining fruition, but one fit of anger at the end of his life brought him to this state. Had he not encountered me, he would certainly have swallowed that monk. Once he swallowed a person, he would fall into hell and suffer through one existence after another, with no knowing when he might be freed.” He then told the others, “Tomorrow, a monk will be cremated behind the mountain. The deceased monk has arrived; he is the giant python from yesterday. His head has now been smashed, and he has died.”

After the cremation, Huayan again called the sick monk’s disciple and said, “Your master will be reborn next year as a daughter in the Pei family. Her labor will be difficult, and in her anger she will certainly harm her mother, making her karmic offenses even graver. When the time comes, go quickly to save her. Just call her by name and tell her that these words came from me, and she will be safe.” This came to pass exactly as he had predicted.

Alas, a cultivator who lost his temper only once still fell into such a state. What, then, of those who know nothing of cultivation? It seems that when he grew angry, his heart was already harboring the evil intent to harm another.

The commentary says:

Objects should be made in accordance with their original forms and principles; this idea can be grounded in the Book of Changes (Yijing). Yet some people, driven by selfish motives and petty cleverness, take it upon themselves to disrupt established standards. Consider a balance for weighing goods: it should measure fairly, but some deliberately alter its markings and deceive others at will. Such conduct is worse than destroying the instrument itself. When people lose the standards they can rely on, is that not an evil way of behaving?

When they see someone else attain high rank and honor, they wish for that person to be demoted and sent into exile.

An old book says that people are generally divided into four groups: scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants. Those of high rank, however, stand above them all. There are five kinds of good fortune: wealth, long life, health and peace, a love of virtue, and a peaceful end to one’s days. The good fortune enjoyed by the eminent seems to surpass even these. But can such a position be gained by mere chance? It is the result of having cultivated the roots of virtue in the past. How can those who have less than they do summon up groundless envy and wish to see them disgraced?

In the early years of the Song dynasty, Lu Duosun was banished to Zhuyai. Li Fu said to the chief councilor, Zhao Pu, “Though Zhuyai lies across the sea, its climate and soil are not especially harsh. Chunzhou is inland, yet those sent there never return alive. Why not change his sentence to Chunzhou? It would make the court appear lenient, while in fact sending him to a place where he is certain to die.” Zhao Pu made no reply. Before long, Li Fu himself fell into disgrace over an affair and was exiled to Xuanzhou. The emperor was still angry, so Zhao Pu reported what Li Fu had said earlier. That same day, Li Fu’s sentence was changed to Chunzhou. He died less than ten days after arriving.

Ding Wei played a major part in the banishment of Kou Laigong (Kou Zhun). At the time the place of exile was being discussed, Ding Wei and Feng Zheng were both serving in the Secretariat. As Ding Wei drafted the order, he said to Feng Zheng, “I had intended to send him to Yazhou, but feared he would have to cross the sea. So I plan to change it to Leizhou.” Not long afterward, Ding Wei himself fell into disgrace and faced exile. Feng Zheng was still in the Secretariat, and happened to be drafting the order. He smiled at Ding Wei and said, “The ‘Crane Chancellor’ once wanted to send Kou Zhun to Yazhou, then lamented that he would have to cross the sea. Now I ask you to cross the sea yourself and make the journey there.” So Ding Wei was sent to Yazhou. Given these examples, is it right to see another person’s high rank and wish for their downfall?

The commentary says:

Rank and office, titles and stipends, often come by chance; there is no need to regard them as so solid and lasting. They are like flowers in a garden, which people water with jars. The fresh dew on the blossoms and the drifting mist and rain are all passing sights. Prosperity and decline can change in the blink of an eye. What is there to cling to or take pleasure in? Think this way, and envy will melt away like ice.

When they see someone else grow wealthy, they wish for that person’s family fortune to be squandered.

The record states that the twentieth patriarch, Jayata, asked the nineteenth patriarch, Kumaralata: “My family has always revered and believed in the Three Treasures—the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha—yet we are constantly plagued by illness, and nothing we do goes well. Our neighbors have long engaged in what the text calls youtuoluo practice, a particular activity or livelihood, yet they remain healthy and often succeed in what they undertake. Why are they so fortunate, and what have I done wrong?”

Kumaralata replied: “The consequences of good and evil come at different times. People see only that the kind die young and the violent live long, that rebels prosper and the righteous suffer calamity, so they conclude that cause and effect are false and that there is no such thing as sin or merit. They do not know that retribution follows like a shadow, without the slightest error; even after hundreds of thousands of eons, it does not vanish.” Jayata immediately dispelled his doubts.

Kumaralata continued: “Though you have come to believe, you have not yet understood: karma arises from delusion, and the responses of causes and conditions arise through consciousness, the discriminating mind. Consciousness depends on unawareness, and unawareness in turn depends on the mind. The mind’s nature is originally pure, without arising or ceasing, action or retribution, victory or defeat. It is still and yet luminous. If you enter this Dharma gate, you will be one with the Buddhas.”

Alas, can those who see another person’s wealth and hope that their household will be ruined understand this teaching? Even if a wealthy person lacks virtue and will eventually fall into ruin, one should not therefore wish for their bankruptcy.

Zhou Yifu was from Hong County. His family was extremely wealthy and highly influential locally, and he often acted with great brutality. A man named Sun Shizhi from a neighboring prefecture once calmly tried to admonish him. Zhou Yifu cursed him: “What does a little wretch like you know? How dare you meddle in my affairs!” Later, Sun Shizhi passed the civil service examination and became a regional grain transport commissioner, responsible for the finances and grain transport of the circuit. Zhou Yifu still sneered: “He’s become a surveillance commissioner. What can he do to me?”

One day, Sun Shizhi came to inspect Hong County and happened to see Zhou Yifu beating someone in the marketplace. The victim reported him. Sun Shizhi urged the man to report Zhou Yifu’s unlawful conduct, and that same day sent the case to the relevant office for investigation. Before long, one of the principal people involved in the case happened to die in prison. After conferring with others, Sun Shizhi ordered the officials to submit a report and transfer the case to another prefecture for trial. Zhou Yifu was ultimately sentenced to death for murder, and his descendants were all registered under the administration of the authorities. Within a few years, Sun Shizhi was transferred to serve as grain transport commissioner in Hebei. War broke out, and his entire family was killed by enemy forces; his household was ruined in an instant, just as Zhou Yifu’s had been. Is this not retribution?

When Qian Ruoshui served as judicial officer in Tongzhou, a wealthy family lost a young female servant, and her parents brought a complaint to the authorities. The prefecture assigned a recording secretary, an official who assisted in reviewing cases, to investigate. This official had once asked the wealthy family for a favor and been refused. He seized the opportunity to accuse them, falsely claiming that the father and son had conspired to murder the servant and thrown her body into the water. Once the case was concluded, it was submitted to the prefecture, which appointed officials to review it; none raised any objection. Qian Ruoshui alone had doubts and refused to sign his name. He then spent his own money to send people to search for the servant in secret. Eventually they found her, and the family was cleared of the charge. Had they not encountered Qian Ruoshui, they might well have met the same fate as Zhou Yifu. In my view, it was not only the wealthy family that should have thanked Qian Ruoshui; the recording secretary should have thanked him too. If the family had truly been killed, could the secretary have escaped unscathed?

The eulogy says: A great ship rises high like a dragon and can carry ten thousand bushels; a light little leaf-boat dances among the winds and waves, and even a heap of feathers may weigh it down and sink it. The Peng and the small quail each live freely, content with different worlds and different aims. People differ in their natural endowments and circumstances; finding contentment in one’s proper place is enough for happiness. If one’s desires grow excessive, one may bring calamity upon oneself, as though drinking poison.

He sees a beautiful woman in another man’s household and begins plotting to possess her.

The commentary says: Beings revolve through the cycle of birth and death without finding release. The root cause lies in the “five shadows,” or “five aggregates.” The two terms mean the same thing; translators of the scriptures simply used slightly different words.

What are the “five shadows”? The distinct forms visible before the eyes are the shadow of form; receiving impressions from the outside world and retaining them in the mind is the shadow of feeling; the mind reaching out to things and principles and imagining them is the shadow of perception; acting on these thoughts is the shadow of volition; and what obscures and stains one’s original nature is the shadow of consciousness. What are the “five aggregates”? The body and material things formed from the four great elements—earth, water, fire, and wind—are the aggregate of form; experiences of pain, pleasure, and neither pain nor pleasure are the aggregate of feeling; grasping at various appearances is the aggregate of perception; the continual arising and activity of mental processes is the aggregate of volition; and distinguishing and recognizing the things one encounters, then taking them in and storing them through the mind, is the aggregate of consciousness.

When ordinary people encounter sounds and forms, they often become confused and attached. This all arises from the five shadows and five aggregates. If one can understand that forms are empty of inherent nature, how could such things still bewilder them?

Long ago, Zhang Bao served as prefect of Chengdu. A man named Li, who was an assistant magistrate of Huayang, had a wife of exceptional beauty, renowned throughout Shu. Zhang Bao secretly coveted her. During the Lantern Festival, when men and women went out to celebrate, he sent people to find out where she would be, then disguised himself and went to spy on her. Seeing that she was indeed beautiful, he enlisted nuns and wet nurses to carry messages, secretly conveying his intentions. At first, Li’s wife refused him sternly, but as time passed, she seemed to soften.

Before long, Assistant Magistrate Li was exposed for taking bribes. Zhang Bao seized the opportunity to report him to the court and have him imprisoned for questioning. Once the case was concluded, Li was exiled to Lingnan and died on the way. Zhang Bao then bribed Li’s mother lavishly and forcibly took Li’s wife as his own. She had long resented the servants in her husband’s household and was now willing to comply. Zhang Bao was delighted to have married her, and she got what she wanted; the two stayed together day and night, inseparable.

Not long afterward, Li’s wife fell ill. In her delirium, she often saw Li beside her, and soon she died. Zhang Bao also fell ill. In a dream, his wife told him, “I am grateful for your kindness and dare not fail to repay it. Li has already reported you to Heaven, and the time decreed by fate is close at hand. If you stay indoors and do not go out, you may yet avoid immediate disaster. But if you venture out carelessly, you will certainly be seized.” One evening, Zhang Bao was sitting when he saw a red sleeve waving to him from among the bamboo beneath the hall. Thinking it was Li’s wife, he forgot the warning in his dream and hurried toward her.

When they reached the appointed place, the officer beat and insulted her, saying, “You shameless thief of a woman! If you hadn’t beckoned me here with your red sleeve, would I have come?” After a long while, blood flowed from her mouth and nose. She fell to the ground and died.

From this we can see that although the man first conceived a desire for an illicit relationship, if the woman silently harbors an intention to consent, she too bears some responsibility. Rather than consent too readily and invite such calamity, it is better to hold firmly to chastity and pass through this life in peace, enduring the karmic consequences one has received.

When Yan Wu was young, he lived near a military commissioner. The commissioner had a daughter who was quite beautiful. Yan Wu secretly watched her and fell in love with her, then did everything he could to lure her to his home. The two later ran away together. Before long, the commissioner learned what had happened and reported it to the palace. The emperor issued an edict ordering a commissioned official, acting on imperial orders, to arrest Yan Wu. Afraid of being punished, Yan Wu got the woman drunk that night, removed the strings from a pipa and used them to strangle her, then sank her body in the water. The next day the commissioned official arrived but could not find her, and Yan Wu escaped punishment.

Later, when Yan Wu fell ill in Shu, he clearly saw the woman before him, rebuking him: “I followed you, and though I did abandon my chastity, I truly did you no wrong. Even if you feared punishment, why did you not leave me behind and flee? Why did you have to kill me? You are truly cruel. I have already appealed to Heaven and arranged to take your life tomorrow.” Yan Wu was both ashamed and frightened. He begged her to spare him, but at daybreak he died, just as she had said.

This further shows that women of even modest beauty often encounter such situations. If they remain steadfast in their resolve, as resolute as ice and snow, then however much a man may wish to have an illicit relationship with them, how could he succeed? So I maintain that although the thought of illicit desire may first arise in the man, if the woman silently harbors an intention to consent, she too bears some responsibility. One must be cautious wherever people gather for pleasure and even in the spaces between walls.

Eulogy:

Zixia once said, “Value virtue, and you will think little of female beauty.” The teachings of the ancient sages always urge people to cherish virtue. A woman who bewilders the heart and will can bring a man to ruin; virtue can withstand such temptation. When the heart loses its integrity, it falls into confusion. Lowering one’s aspirations and disgracing oneself often begin with a single mistaken thought.

End of Volume Eighteen of the Treatise of the Most High on Response and Retribution.

Volume Nineteen of the Treatise of the Most High on Response and Retribution

Narrated by Li Changling; eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Owing someone money or goods, yet hoping they will die soon.

The Record says that when Li Yue was serving as a vice director in the Ministry of War, he once traveled by boat alongside a Hu merchant’s vessel. The merchant suddenly became gravely ill and asked Li Yue to come see him. He gave Li Yue a luminous pearl and entrusted his two daughters to him; both were very beautiful. The next day, the merchant died, leaving behind property worth tens of thousands. The others aboard secretly coveted it. Li Yue made an itemized record of the property and handed it over to the authorities for safekeeping. One of the daughters later became his wife, and only then did he prepare the merchant’s body for burial. As he did so, he placed the luminous pearl he had received into the merchant’s mouth, unseen by anyone else. Later, when the merchant’s relatives came to claim the property, Li Yue asked the authorities to open the boxes and inspect their contents. The pearl was still among them. All the scholars of the time praised him.

One evening, as Wei Zidu was traveling, he came upon a scholar collapsed by the roadside, saying that he was suffering severe pain in his chest. Zidu dismounted and rubbed the man’s chest, but before long the scholar died. Zidu examined his baggage and found a volume of plain silk writing and ten cakes of gold. He sold two of the gold cakes to pay for the funeral, then placed the remaining eight beneath the dead man’s head and set the silk volume beside him. Several years later, someone asked Zidu where the remains were. Zidu led him to the grave. When they opened it, the gold and the book were still there. Zidu’s reputation rose greatly as a result.

These are stories of virtue handed down by earlier generations and recorded in books, enough to inspire admiration and serve as a warning. Those who seize other people’s property and hope for them to die could hardly act this way. Still, we should briefly give one or two contrary examples below, so that everyone may take them as a warning.

There was a man in Yongjia named Xu Hui, who made his living trading goods. In Danyang, he once borrowed more than a thousand strings of cash from a wealthy merchant. Before he repaid it, the merchant died. Xu Hui then kept quiet. The merchant’s family knew nothing of the debt and never pursued it. Later, Xu Hui had a son who was exceptionally clever and handsome, and Xu Hui loved him dearly. When the child was eight, he fell ill. Xu Hui sought doctors and bought medicines, spending a great deal. After a long time, the family’s wealth was exhausted, yet the child showed no sign of recovery.

One day, the child suddenly said to Xu Hui’s relative, the nun Nishi Shi, “I want to go back.” Nishi asked, “This is your home, and your parents love you so much. Where do you want to go?” The child replied, “I was originally from Danyang. In the past, Master Xu borrowed a thousand strings of cash from me. Fortunately, I died, so he did not have to repay it. I deliberately took birth in his family now to collect that debt.” As soon as he finished speaking, he died.

There was also a man named Bai Yuantong who owed Yang Yun of the East Market four strings and five hundred cash in ready money. Before he repaid it, Yang Yun suddenly died, and Bai Yuantong kept the debt secret. After Bai died, he was reborn into Yang’s family as a donkey. One day, Yang Yun’s son was riding the donkey into the city when it suddenly spoke: “I am Bai Yuantong. Because I owed your father four strings and five hundred cash, I have ended up in this state. The man who sells bran in the South Market owes me the same amount. Quickly sell me to him and use the money to repay your father’s debt; then the matter will be settled.” Yang Yun’s son did as it said, and the donkey died two days later.

From these stories, can we really expect to escape repayment and retribution by keeping what we owe others while hoping the creditor will die?

Wu Zixu cast gold onto a shoal by the river to repay a kindness. Jizha had once promised to give someone his sword; later, he hung it on a tree beside that person’s grave. Though their circumstances differed, both remained steadfast in their commitment to keep faith and repay kindness. When people entrust their lives to someone or place their orphaned children in another’s care, they rely precisely on that person’s reputation and integrity. Even flies and mosquitoes will bite someone who deceives the dead.

When people seek something and fail to obtain it, they immediately curse and resent others.

An old book says: Those who feel no shame and do nothing but seek things from others cannot be called honest and upright. If they curse and resent others when they do not get what they seek, they are even more contemptible. How could such people take to heart Han Changli’s (Han Yu’s) teaching to be strict with oneself and lenient toward others, or Fan Zhongxuan’s (Fan Chunren’s) teaching to hold oneself accountable while treating others generously?

Han Changli said, “A noble person makes exacting and thorough demands of himself, while treating others with generosity and tolerance. By being exacting and thorough, he keeps himself from becoming negligent; by being generous and tolerant, he encourages others to do good.” Fan Zhongxuan said, “All I have learned in my life can be summed up in the two words ‘loyalty and consideration.’ A lifetime is not enough to exhaust their use. Whether serving the ruler at court, associating with colleagues and friends, or living in closeness and harmony with my clan, I have never for a moment departed from these two principles.” He also instructed his children and younger relatives: “Even someone very foolish can see clearly when blaming others; even someone very clever may become confused when excusing himself. If you can use the standards you apply when blaming others to hold yourselves accountable, and treat others with the same leniency you grant yourselves, you need not worry that you will fall short of the sages.”

Can people who are intent only on getting what they want understand these principles? In the world, those who ask nothing of others are indeed rare. Here I offer one or two more examples in the hope that they will awaken a sense of shame in everyone. Hu Langzhong once said to someone, “I used to serve in Wu County, Suzhou. Many scholar-officials lived there temporarily, and almost every one of them asked me to handle some matter. Only the retired Grand Supervisor Fu Yan never asked me to do a single thing in three years.” Qiu Taibo also said that he had once served in Xinjian County, Hongzhou. The powerful clans of Hongzhou often interfered in government affairs. Only the retired Langzhong Wang Shu lived contentedly in poverty and kept to himself behind closed doors. Even when he lacked food and clothing, he never asked anyone for help. The integrity of these two gentlemen truly surpassed that of ordinary people; they were indeed worthy men.

The verse of praise says: When the heart has no desires, it is like a still water surface. Once desire arises, the waves begin to churn. Look at…