《太上感应篇》Vol. 4

When someone defies me or displeases me, I find myself looking down on him and thinking him contemptible. If he acts even slightly against my wishes, resentment and anger keep growing. Why not turn inward, examine myself, restrain my anger, and put an end to resentment?

Seeing someone else fall into hardship, I seize the chance to point out his faults.

An ancient book says: “When someone happens to fall into hardship, that is already a misfortune for him. How can you take the opportunity to point out his faults?” To do so is to take pleasure in another’s distress. What is more, the Taishang Ganying Pian clearly warns people against such behavior. How can we still do it?

Long ago, just as He Shenxi was about to take up an appointment, he suddenly fell ill and died. His wife wept in grief. His sister-in-law, Zhao, tried to console her, saying, “While your husband was alive, he often went off to brothels for pleasure and left you neglected. Why grieve so deeply?” After hearing this, the wife’s sorrow gradually subsided, and she stopped thinking of her husband.

One night, Zhao dreamed that Shenxi said to her, “Life and death each have their allotted course. How can you mock someone else? You have only four years left to live, and when you die, your circumstances will be worse than mine.” Zhao awoke in great fear. Four years later, she did indeed die. At that time, her husband had not returned from a distant journey, and the two sons she had borne were still too young and foolish to understand anything. Her circumstances were indeed worse than Shenxi’s.

Li Xiong was highly talented in literature, filial to his parents, and quick in his work. The people of his village all praised him. Before long, he fell ill. A mistake in prescribing one dose of medicine made his condition worse, and he eventually died. His wife was pregnant, and the child had not yet been born. The whole family was distraught and anxious, unsure what to do. His brother-in-law, He Shi, went around saying, “Li Xiong always claimed he was good at handling things. Let’s see how he handles this!” Those who heard him despised his character. The following year, He Shi also died.

If this is so, when we see someone fall into hardship, can we really take the opportunity to mock his faults? Do we ourselves truly have no faults?

The eulogy says:

Meng Ming once made mistakes, yet later helped Qin achieve hegemony. Even at the age of forty-nine, Qu Boyu could reflect on his past and steadily correct himself. Occasional errors in a person’s conduct are not enough to judge his character. How can it be called benevolence to take advantage of someone’s distress and push him further down? This is taking pleasure in another’s misfortune, and misfortune will in turn befall you.

Seeing that someone has a physical impairment, I mock him.

An ancient book says that Xie Chong of Jin was sent to Qi to invite its ruler to a meeting. Duke Qing of Qi arranged for women to watch from behind a curtain. As Xie Chong climbed the steps, the women burst out laughing, and he was furious. In the second year of Duke Cheng of Lu, Jin did indeed send troops to attack Qi.

When Guo Ziyi was gravely ill, officials came one after another to visit him. He had many concubines attending him, but never asked them to withdraw. Only when Lu Qi came to visit did he send them all away. Asked why, Guo Ziyi replied, “Lu Qi is ugly in appearance and treacherous in nature. If my concubines saw him, they would surely laugh at and insult him. If he gains power one day, I fear our whole family may not survive.” Guo Ziyi had keen insight. Compared with him, Duke Qing of Qi was far behind.

For example, Lord Pingyuan, a nobleman of Zhao during the Warring States period, had a beautiful woman in his household put to death because she mocked a disabled man who was limping as he carried water. A man in Zhao who mocked Lord Mengchang, a nobleman of Qi during the Warring States period, for being short was also put to death. These incidents are warnings from the past and should have made people cautious, but sadly they often fail to understand the lesson. A person’s prospects depend on breadth of character and insight, not appearance. Even if someone has a physical deformity, how could we look down on them if their character and insight are exceptional?

In the past, Lu Xie was unremarkable in appearance and spoke unclearly. When he said his name, Xie, it sounded like hui, because his tongue was short. He once presented an essay to Wei Zhou, a Minister of Works, and members of the Wei family mocked him mercilessly. But Wei Zhou said, “Lu Xie may be unremarkable in appearance, but his essay has a clear beginning and end. He is sure to become prominent.” Lu Xie later passed the civil service examination and soon rose to the position of chief minister. He had once helped advance talented people from the Jingzhao region and had also served as an inspector in Fujian.

Wang Qinjie, Duke of Ji, was thin, moved in a manner that seemed coarse, and had a fleshy growth on his neck. He once brought an essay to show Qian Xibai, who thought little of him. A diviner happened to be at the gathering and exclaimed, “This is a man of distinction. How can you look down on him?” Qian Xibai said, “Could someone like this really become a chancellor at court?” The diviner replied, “I fear he will indeed become chancellor, and before long.” Within a few years, Wang Qinjie had indeed risen to the highest ministerial rank.

Sun Wenyigong was also unremarkable in appearance. When he went to the capital to sit the civil service examinations, he asked the county office for a document authorizing the sale of his fields. The county magistrate, Li Zhaoyan, laughed at him and said, “How many people like you could there be?” That year, Sun Wenyigong came third in the examinations. Within a few years, he was appointed to oversee official appointments. At the time, Li Zhaoyan was waiting, as a candidate for office, to be assigned a post by the court. When he saw Sun Wenyigong, he was deeply ashamed and could only go home.

Hou Yuangong was also ugly and poorly built. At first, he was nominated for office in his home region. A frivolous man, thinking him too old and ugly to deserve respect, drew his likeness on a kite and flew it into the sky. Hou Yuangong happened to see it and burst out laughing. He wrote a poem titled “Linjiang Xian” on it:

“Before I found success, who would trust my every move?

My name has yet to rise to fame.

For no reason, a skilled craftsman drew my likeness;

I ride the wind’s strength and soar in a single bound.

The wind has only just lifted me,

And my form is gradually steadying.

I fear I may yet travel far, to the Moon Palace.

After the rain, at dusk, the setting sun glows red.

How many can remain forever on level ground

And watch me rise into the blue sky?”

That year, Hou Yuangong passed the civil service examination and later rose to the highest ministerial rank. If so, can we really mock someone for a flaw in their appearance or body?

The encomium says:

A sage can fully realize human nature; this does not depend on whether their outward appearance is complete. What deserves respect is inner virtue; what gives cause for concern is a dim and blind mind. If you do not understand someone’s character, you may judge them too lightly and misread a person like Ziyu. Even a handsome appearance and a tall frame require the support of wise kinsmen. If your fingers are unlike other people’s, why conclude that you are defective?

Seeing another person’s praiseworthy talent and suppressing it.

The commentary says: Suppressing another person’s praiseworthy talent is something petty people do when they envy those more gifted than themselves. A noble person would not dare to act this way. King...

Wen Yanbo, courtesy name Kuanfu, had been ill for a long time and showed no sign of recovery. The emperor ordered that a sedan chair be carried to bring him into the palace and offer his condolences. He asked him several times, “If you should die, to whom should I entrust the affairs of state?” Wen Yanbo replied, “In my judgment, no one is more suitable than Kou Zhun.” The emperor said, “But his temperament is forthright, and he can be somewhat narrow-minded.” Wen Yanbo replied, “As for anyone else, I do not know.” Kou Zhun later did indeed serve as chancellor.

Lü Mengzheng, Duke Shen, requested permission to retire. The emperor asked, “Since you cannot remain, who can take your place?” Lü Mengzheng replied, “If Your Majesty wishes to appoint someone of outstanding intelligence and ability to govern the state, I do not know who would be most suitable. But if you wish to appoint a seasoned elder statesman who can bring stability to government affairs and understands the hardships of the people throughout the realm, no one is more suitable than Lü Yijian.” Lü Yijian later served as chancellor.

When Qian Ruoshui served as Commissioner of Military Affairs, he took pleasure in advancing scholars and worked tirelessly; many younger men benefited from his support. Ouyang Xiu delighted in recommending worthy and capable people. He never begrudged others’ success for fear they might surpass him, nor did he strive to outdo them.

When Miao Shizhong served as an Academician-Expectant and Assistant Director of the Court of National Granaries, he was ordered to inspect the ever-normal granaries and labor service system in Zizhou Circuit, a Song administrative region. He submitted a written report recommending more than ten capable officials, all of whom were later promoted and appointed to posts.

Du Yan held posts including prefect, transport commissioner, and pacification commissioner. Whenever he encountered a learned person with administrative ability and exceptional character, he would recommend and appoint them according to their talents, even if he had never met them. When Sun Bian served as Censor-in-Chief, he was initially unacquainted with Tang Jie, Fu Bi, and Fan Zhongyan. Having only heard that they were upright and incorruptible, he did his utmost to recommend them. Later, when they served as Censors, they proved resolute and effective. Zhang Dexiang and Wen Yanbo were also strangers to each other at first. Having heard only that the other was an honorable man, they met and then strongly recommended one another. Later, both led troops on campaigns and entered the court as chancellors, where they proved their outstanding ability.

When Zhang Yong served as military governor of Zhongding Command, he was not acquainted with Zhang Xiyan and had never heard of his reputation. He had only heard from the palace attendant Fan Yangui that the bridges, roads, and relay stations in Zhang Xiyan’s jurisdiction were all well maintained; the fields were cultivated, and no farm work lay neglected in the countryside; there was no gambling in the shops, trade at the markets was fair, and the night watch was kept punctually. Zhang Yong laughed and said, “Xiyan is indeed skilled at governing a region. Even the emperor’s own envoy recommends good officials.” That very day, he and Fan Yangui jointly recommended Zhang Xiyan. Both men later earned a fine reputation. Could people like these have suppressed the talents of others?

The eulogy says:

Heaven creates talent so that it may serve the world. What is admirable is when those who have already made their mark respect and support worthy people who come after them. Qi Xi once recommended his enemy Jie Hu, and Yang Hu once recommended the overlooked Du Yu. In this way, the work of good government can be accomplished and the affairs of state carried through. Those who envy the worthy and resent the capable often bring calamity upon themselves.

Burying gu poison and practicing harmful magic—using sorcery or talismans to suppress or injure others.

The Laws of Xuandu records that when offenses have accumulated to 2,700, they count as one act of harm. In households burdened with this kind of karmic wrongdoing, male and female mediums will appear. This suggests that being born as a medium may be the result of offenses committed in a previous life. Those who have already suffered retribution for their crimes and are reborn as human beings in this life, yet still bury gu poison and use magic to harm others, only deepen their guilt. In the future they will fall again and suffer—how could that compare with what they face in this life? Know that the fall into the Three Evil Destinies—hell, hungry ghosts, and animals—comes swiftly as a flying arrow. It is truly lamentable.

Long ago, Ji Nanshou, governor of Jianzhou, was summoned to the underworld to judge a prison there. The prisoner was Wang Zicheng, a sorcerer from Xizhou. He had sent ghost soldiers to harm two children in the Gao Zhen household and had also injured several of Zhang Yuan’s cattle. Ji Nanshou ruled according to the law: Wang Zicheng had abused wicked magic to harm living people and animals, and therefore was to be beaten across the back with an iron rod and sent to the Avici Hell, where suffering never ceases, to endure every kind of torment. After his punishment in Avici Hell ended, he would be banished as a solitary spirit among heterodox practitioners. His descendants would all fall with him, and his household and estate would be utterly destroyed. This shows how wrong it is to bury gu poison and use magic against others. If someone deliberately orders another person to do it, their offense is even greater than the sorcerer’s.

The Record of Monsters recounts that after Lü Yongzhi was executed by soldiers, people dug up the central hall of his house and found a stone casket containing a bronze figure about three feet tall. The figure wore shackles, had a long nail driven through its mouth, and bore on its back Gao Pian’s native place, neighborhood, official post, and name. This was a form of harmful magic, and Gao Pian was therefore often controlled by Lü Yongzhi. Alas, if Gao Pian was under Lü Yongzhi’s control, why did Lü Yongzhi himself ultimately meet a violent death? Understand that burying gu poison and using magic against others may not truly harm them; instead, it may hasten one’s own misfortune. Take this as a warning.

In praise: When the arts of gu sorcery arose, the Han dynasty nearly perished as a result. People trusted wicked magic too readily, and the calamities were devastating. Fu Yi cast a curse, only to be subdued by a monk; Shou Yong relied on ghost soldiers, while Ning Zhi died in Yue. An arrow shot outward will eventually rebound: in the end, one brings ruin upon oneself.

Poisoning trees to kill them.

An ancient book says that Emperor Wenchang listed “using poison to kill trees” among the prohibitions in his writings because he did not wish to harm the lives of any beings. Xin Ling helped plants grow and was therefore able to become an immortal; Gao Chai did not break trees that were still growing, and Confucius praised him especially for it. If so, would using poison to kill trees not bring punishment? Have people not heard that the Dragon King of Yibo fell among the dragon kind for damaging leaves, and that the Dragon of Taiyi Cave was demoted to the form of a horse for angrily harming crops?

The Great Dao cherishes life. Even a blade of grass or a tree should not be harmed carelessly. What is more, the life of a sage may sometimes reside in a tree. The Book of Rivers records that Yi Yin was born inside a hollow mulberry tree. The Scripture of Karmic Retribution says that Han Yuanshou, having taken the wrong path in his cultivation, had his spirit fly into a tree and become a wood spirit. Some trees are themselves endowed with spiritual awareness and are no different from people: this was the case with the pine tree whose roots Qian Shiyu cut. There are also cases where stealing a tree brought calamity, though its tree spirit already knew what would happen; Qian Renkang’s theft of a peony is one example. Let us set aside the earlier stories for now and consider only those of Qian Shiyu and Qian Renkang, in the hope that everyone will take warning from them.

Long ago, beside the Flying-In Hall on Dongxia Mountain, there stood an ancient pine. During the Daguan era, attendants of Qian Shiyu, the Imperial City Commissioner, struck its roots with an axe, and resin immediately began to ooze out. The following year, Qian Ji, a palace attendant, passed by the monastery. That night, he dreamed that an old man said to him, “Though I have no human head or feet, I am a plant endowed with spiritual awareness. Yesterday, Qian Shiyu’s men wounded my knee and took my resin to use in place of lamp oil. My wound is still bleeding. Please tell the elder of the monastery to mend my roots at once, so that I will not be shaken and broken by violent winds and may live out my natural span. I would be deeply grateful.”

At daybreak, Qian Ji set out, but he was unable to notify the monastery’s elder in time. Later, he met the county magistrate, Qian Lu, and told him what he had seen in his dream. Qian Lu went to the monastery to inspect the tree and found everything exactly as Qian Ji had described. He quickly packed earth around the damaged roots to seal them.

Qian Renkang, an Assistant Director of the Inspection Office in the Marshal’s Secretariat, lived next door to Jin Zhao, the Deputy Commander of the Central Army. Jin Zhao had a peony that bore more than three hundred blossoms each time it bloomed. The flowers were blood-red, with golden edges on their petals and bottle-shaped crowns marked by fine lines. Each blossom looked like a naturally formed butterfly. It was an exceptionally precious peony. Whenever it bloomed, Jin Zhao would host a banquet, and Qian Renkang often attended.

One night, Qian Renkang got very drunk. Carrying a sword, dressed in a light robe, with a large sack on his back and a dagger at his waist, he climbed over the wall and stole the peony. Jin Zhao knew nothing of it. As Qian Renkang took the flower, a voice from the air, faint as a bee or fly, said, “Three hundred blossoms on one flower, smiling toward the spring breeze. In the third month next year, every blossom will be red with heartbreak.”

The following March, when the peony bloomed, Jin Zhao again held a banquet, and Qian Renkang attended. The moment he saw the peony, he flew into a rage. After returning home, he cut open his abdomen with a knife and died. The poem’s words had come true.

Alas, Qian Renkang lost his life over a peony, and the spirits had foreseen the outcome as soon as he stole it. If so, how can one possibly use poison to kill trees?

The eulogy says: Heaven’s Way rewards and punishes: those who do good receive blessings, while those who indulge in wrongdoing meet with calamity. Human rewards and punishments, too, are as dependable as metal and stone. Whatever others receive, they have brought upon themselves. Why, then, should I interfere out of favoritism? If punishment and admonition lose their proper measure, calamity and ruin will follow one another. Such clear proofs and decisive examples have been recorded throughout the ages.

Indulging in pleasure beyond all bounds

It is said that the monk Zhi Gong, who lived during the Southern Dynasties, once spoke with Emperor Wu of Liang about pleasure and asked the emperor to bring in several prisoners condemned to death so they could test what he meant. Zhi Gong then told each prisoner to carry a cup filled to the brim with water and walk back and forth in the courtyard. “If you spill not a single drop,” he warned them, “you will be spared execution.” He then had musicians play, hoping to distract them. After a long while, he inspected the cups: not one had spilled. Emperor Wu exclaimed, “Did you hear the music?” The prisoners replied, “No.” Zhi Gong said, “They were afraid of being put to death and concerned only that the water might spill. How could they hear the music? If Your Majesty, too, were always this vigilant, thoughts of indulging in pleasure would naturally not arise.”

The Chan master Huiyuan said to the local official Zhang Mi, “Adversity is easy to deal with; prosperity is harder. When something goes against your wishes, you need only endure it, and it will soon pass. But when things go well and everything pleases you, there is nowhere to hide from it. It is like a magnet meeting a needle: before you know it, they have been drawn together. If even inanimate objects behave this way, what of us, with our feelings and desires, living entirely amid emotion and desire?” The words of these two Chan masters go straight to the heart of the matter.

In general, when people are prospering, they have little fear in their hearts, and so they are liable to lose restraint in the face of pleasure. Long ago, when Jiang Xilu held office in Chengdu, there was a courtesan named Chen Fengyi, renowned for her beauty and artistic talents. Jiang was very fond of her. At every banquet she sat beside him, drawing criticism, and the imperial court learned of the affair. Later, Duke Lu succeeded him in office and took a lesson from his example. Even when courtesans were right in front of him, he never so much as looked at them.

One day, Duke Lu was hosting guests when a button on his robe came loose, beyond his reach. Chen Fengyi stepped forward and fastened it for him. Duke Lu turned and smiled. “So the Duke does look at people after all,” Fengyi said. She was pleased by this, and Duke Lu began speaking with her more often. Rumors about the two of them soon spread. The court therefore ordered the censor He Tan to investigate discreetly. When He Tan arrived in Hanzhou, he saw a courtesan surnamed Yang whose dancing was quite graceful and casually remarked that she was “the Yang Tai Liu people talk about.” On the strength of that one remark, rumors spread everywhere and eventually reached the emperor. How, then, can one fail to be careful when surrounded by pleasure? If even two high officials could be caught up in such things, what of ordinary people?

For this reason, Duke Du Zhengxian—Du Yan—always ate just one portion of noodles and one portion of rice at home. When someone criticized him for being too frugal, he said, “I was originally no more than a poor scholar. My present rank, salary, good fortune, as well as my official hat and robes and the things I use every day, have all been bestowed by the state. Once I leave these behind, I will become a poor scholar again. What, then, will I have to support myself?”

Duke Fan Wenzheng, Fan Zhongyan, once said, “Every night before I sleep, I calculate the cost of the food and support I have received that day, and I also review what I have done. If the two are in proportion, I can sleep peacefully, without guilt. If they are not, I lie awake all night.” Duke Lü Shen, Lü Gongzhu, often said, “Fine clothes are not suited to a man of principle; fine food seems almost afraid to enter the belly of someone filled with books and poetry.” Duke Fu Zheng, Fu Bi, also said, “Guard your mouth as if keeping watch over the mouth of a bottle, and guard your thoughts as if defending a city.”

They were so cautious and vigilant. How could they indulge in pleasure, let alone excess? We should understand that earlier generations cultivated themselves and exercised self-restraint in just this way. These teachings did not come from the two Chan masters alone.

Eulogy:

One need not seek comfort in one’s dwelling, and one must strive to put benevolence and virtue into practice. The Great Yu busied himself riding a crude wooden raft; Tao Kan trained himself by carrying bricks. Chu kept watch each day because of the dangers it faced, and the Zhouyi says that a gentleman stays alert and urges himself onward even at night. Who am I, then, to pass my days lazily eating and sleeping? The sages of old warned us long ago: an inch of time is as precious as a foot of jade.

Harshly abusing subordinates.

An old book says that meting out severe punishments to officials and common people while serving in office, or beating maids and servants excessively at home, both count as harsh abuse. Have you not heard of Wang Jun-kuang’s father, who served as an official all his life without casually using a stick to punish anyone? All eight of his sons passed the examinations and entered public service, and Wang Jun-kuang himself became one of the foremost men in the land. And have you not heard of Yuan Lang’s mother, who often beat her maids and servants excessively throughout her life, then fell into hell after death and suffered every kind of torment? These are clear examples of good and evil meeting their just consequences, enough to serve as warnings.

There are also people who even beat their pregnant concubines. Before we speak of the child in the concubine’s womb being harmed, perhaps even bringing the family line to an end, is that not already a grave offense? Sadly, some people fail to understand: I have no son, while another man has one—this too is due to cause and consequence. If I insist on having a son, does that mean I surely will? If I insist that someone else have no descendants, does that mean they surely will not? Besides, continuing the family line is a weighty matter. Whether one has descendants depends on Heaven’s will; the workings of Creation have their own subtle design.

Long ago, Fei Xiaoxian was renowned for his divination. Yang Shao, then an official in charge of ceremonial affairs, came to his divination stall and asked him to cast an oracle. After examining the signs, Fei Xiaoxian said that two women would together give birth to one son. Yang Shao was astonished and told him, “I have had difficulty having children, so I took a concubine. Now she is pregnant, and my senior wife is pregnant too. Is that what you mean?” Fei Xiaoxian replied, “Let us first see how events unfold.”

Later, the concubine went into labor in the middle of the night, with no one else nearby. The wife herself held the baby as it was born; at the same time, the fetus in the wife’s womb disappeared. Perhaps the concubine was meant to give birth to this child, but because the wife could not accept it, she too appeared to be pregnant, to comfort her? The workings of Creation are so profound and subtle, so ingeniously arranged.

A Buddhist scripture says: Those who, while enjoying wealth and status above others, delight in lashing people and beating them at will will fall into hell after death, where they will suffer every kind of torment for countless years. Once their punishment in hell has ended, they will be reborn as water buffaloes, their noses pierced and fitted with ropes, made to pull boats and carts and struck with cudgels and whips to repay the offenses of their former lives. Buddhist scriptures also say that malignant sores on the body result from having once whipped living beings.

Given this, how can officials, runners, maids, and servants be treated harshly at will? How much worse to abuse a pregnant concubine? The Buddha gives this warning, and the Taishang Ganying Pian gives it too. How could we fail to take heed?

The eulogy says: Dukes, marquises, gentlemen, and commoners—the nobles, officials, and ordinary people—each have their rank, passed down in order. Charioteers, servants, herdsmen, and grooms toil in service, driving carriages and riding horses for their masters. Though their status differs, their circumstances still deserve compassion. Peoples and statuses such as the Yi, Man, Min, and slaves are also listed in the ritual classics. They, too, are someone’s children. Tao Yuanming was truly benevolent.

Intimidating others.

The Buddhist scriptures say that when living beings face fear and urgent hardship, Guanyin Bodhisattva can offer them fearless comfort and help. Through this, Guanyin attained perfect penetration, the unobstructed state, which is the highest teaching. For this reason, all the beings of Jambudvipa—the human world—call Guanyin “the Giver of Fearlessness.” How, then, can anyone intimidate others?

A gentleman does not behave this way. Whenever someone is afraid, he does his utmost to comfort them. Sadly, those who enjoy startling or threatening others do not know that after death they will be reborn as muntjacs or deer. By day, these animals hide from predators and flee in panic at the slightest sound. When they sleep, they hang their antlers on branches and curl up. Their limbs twitch in fright as they sleep; they wake in alarm, then fall asleep again, only to be startled once more. From dusk until dawn, they never sleep peacefully. This is the karmic retribution they endure.

Some people in positions of authority intimidate others. Some local constables and ruffians recklessly threaten people to profit from them. Do they know what consequences await? Li Shunqing insisted that his tenant Zhang San repay his rent arrears, and Zhang San eventually hanged himself. Sun Jiming insisted on investigating and interrogating his maid Laixi after she had a lapse with a young male servant; before long, Laixi drowned herself. Setting aside what retribution they may face after death, they already have no peace in this life. Though those people took their own lives, in truth I drove them to their deaths. Read the Scripture of the Supreme One on Karmic Retribution and Causes and Conditions, and you will see that these words are no empty claim.

The eulogy says: Since ancient times, the finest achievement in government has been to bring peace to the people. When the people are settled, they are like wild geese returning and serpents and dragons finding their lairs: each has its proper place. When cruel officials shout and scold, the people tremble with fear, their legs shaking and their hearts in terror. Even decent people are so oppressed that they can scarcely catch their breath, their hearts filled with dread. Who bears responsibility for this? Of course, the officials who govern the people.

Blaming Heaven and everyone else.

It is said that the world of Jambudvipa—the human realm—has always been full of shortcomings. How could people living in it expect everything to go their way? To encounter disappointment is simply a common condition of human life. In general, the less good fortune one has accumulated, the less one can enjoy. Given this, can one blame Heaven? Can one fault other people? Doing so brings no benefit; on the contrary, it may invite calamity.

Long ago, Hu Ang was frustrated in his ambitions. He often did nothing, and because he repeatedly failed the civil service examinations, he would drink and curse Heaven. In the early years of the Taiping Xingguo era, while traveling in Hebei, the region north of the Yellow River, a sheet of black paper suddenly fell from the sky in front of his horse. Hu Ang picked it up and saw that it bore words of divine retribution, written in yellow heavenly script, a language said to be used in the celestial realm. Well versed in ancient seal scripts, he read it and flew into a rage. “What kind of nonsense is this?” he cried. He tore up the paper, threw it away, and rode on.

Before long, a cloud suddenly gathered overhead, and rain began to fall. After a clap of thunder, Hu Ang and his horse both fell to the ground. Hu Ang had been struck dead by lightning. His servant packed their belongings and hurried to the inn farther along the road, only to find the weather clear and sunny, with not a cloud in the sky.

Jiao Junming, a Secretary of the Court of the Imperial Clan, passed the civil service examinations at a young age but then went a long time without promotion. He often blamed Heaven for his troubled career and soon submitted a memorial in prayer. That night, a sheet of white paper fell in front of the stove. Looking closely, he found sixteen characters in heavenly script. Unable to read them, he heard that Immortal He had Daoist arts and took the paper to ask her about it. “This is heavenly script,” she said. “There is no need to ask.”

Jiao Junming pleaded with her until at last she explained: “It seems to say: accepting five taels of silver costs ten years of life; wrongfully killing one person means you will be dealt with separately after death.” Jiao Junming was struck speechless and could not answer. From this we should understand that people must often examine themselves and must not be quick to blame Heaven or others.

The commentary says: When the state of Chu sought the rank of hegemon among the feudal lords, it cast aside the turtle shell and cursed when the divination proved unfavorable. After Yuan Shao was defeated at Guandu, he showed no mercy to Tian Feng. When Zhuge Liang suffered setbacks at Qishan, he bitterly blamed himself. Zixia repeatedly pointed out his own faults and respectfully accepted criticism. Look at these people, and it becomes clear who was more worthy and who less.

They scolded the wind and cursed the rain.

Confucius said, “When thunder crashes and the wind blows fiercely, people are bound to grow solemn.” He also said, “When faced with a sudden gale, loud thunder, and heavy rain, people are bound to change their demeanor. Even at night, they should rise, dress properly, put on their caps, and sit upright. This is because they revere Heaven.” How unlike ordinary people, who complain when summer brings heat and heavy rain, and complain again when winter brings bitter cold.

Sadly, people do not know that the wind is an emissary sent by Heaven and Earth. Heaven has eight winds, each corresponding to one of the eight key seasonal points among the twenty-four solar terms. Yin and Yang change through the agency of wind, and all things grow and reproduce as a result. Thus the ancient kings governed in accordance with the eight winds, promoted eight forms of instruction and governance, and aligned them with the Eight Trigrams (Bagua).

On the day of Beginning of Spring, the Tiao wind—the northeastern wind of that season—arrived, and the king pardoned minor offenses and released detainees. On the day of the Spring Equinox, the Ming-shu wind—the eastern wind of that season—arrived, and he marked out boundaries and repaired the fields. On the day of Beginning of Summer, the Qing-ming wind—the southeastern wind of that season—arrived, and he distributed money and silk and showed honor to the feudal lords. On the day of the Summer Solstice, the Jing wind—the southern wind of that season—arrived, and he appointed important generals and rewarded those who had distinguished themselves. On the day of Beginning of Autumn, the Liang wind—the southwestern wind of that season—arrived, and he offered thanks to the various regions and made sacrifices to the spirits of the four directions. On the day of the Autumn Equinox, the Chang-he wind—the western wind of that season—arrived, and he took down the instruments of punishment and ceased playing the zithers. On the day of Beginning of Winter, the Bu-zhou wind—the northwestern wind of that season—arrived, and he built up city walls and guarded the borders. On the day of the Winter Solstice, the Guang-mo wind—the northern wind of that season—arrived, and he punished offenders and handed down sentences in major cases.

Rain is an emissary sent by the Lord of the Rivers (He Bo), the water deity who governs the rivers. According to legend, He Bo wears white robes and a black cap, and rides a white horse with a red mane. His host is divided into two companies: one called Zuo Luo Qian, the other You Luo Qian. Each company has fifty thousand troops, gathered among the clouds. When rain falls, the rain host goes first and the wind chariots follow; the amount of rain is fixed in each case. There are two kinds of rain seed. One resembles the saltpeter found in the human world and is called “dry rain.” The other is kept in two small-necked bottles; when the human world is short of water, this is the kind of rain seed usually released.

The Supreme One, an honorific Daoist title for the highest deity, said, “Since I created Heaven and Earth and presided over the transformations of creation, I have sometimes been called the Primordial Beginning and sometimes the Void Sovereign. In the rain, I am the Rain Master; in the wind, I am the Wind Lord.” If this is so, how can people curse the wind and rain?

Long ago, Taigong served as magistrate of Guantan County. During the year he held office, not even the sound of wind stirring the branches was heard. One night, King Wen of Zhou dreamed of a beautiful woman weeping on the road. She said, “I am the Supreme Goddess of the Eastern Sea. I married the god of the Western Sea, and Guantan happens to lie along my route when I return to visit my family. The magistrate is virtuous, so I dare not let fierce winds and torrential rain pass through here. When will I be able to return?” The next day, King Wen summoned Taigong. Taigong had barely gone beyond the county boundary when wind and rain came crashing down. Do those in the world who curse the wind and rain possess virtue like Taigong’s?

During the reigns of Yao and Shun, the weather was favorable: the wind blew on five days out of every ten, and it rained on ten days each month. The Hong Fan, a chapter in the Book of Documents, records that misrule brings corresponding calamities and unusual events, such as when rulers are arrogant or benighted. When human affairs are not properly governed, disasters follow. In the face of Heaven’s warnings, one should be reverent and alert, and act with care, caution, and respect. If people only complain and sigh, it is ultimately the common people who suffer.

Do not join others in fighting or lawsuits.

Zengzi said, “Even when someone offends me, I do not hold it against them.” Laozi said, “A person of cultivated character does not contend.” The Buddhists say, “I have attained the meditation of non-contention and am foremost among people.” They also say, “Among the six perfections and myriad practices—the many paths of Buddhist cultivation—patience is the most important.”

In former times, the Zhang Gongyi family lived together in harmony for nine generations. Emperor Gaozong of Tang visited their home and asked how they managed it. Zhang Gongyi wrote a single word, ren, “patience,” in reply. The emperor was so moved that he wept, bestowed silk on Zhang, and departed. From this we can understand that when faced with unfairness, one should endure it if one can. Refusing to yield often leads to conflict, and prolonged conflict can develop into a lawsuit. Once a case reaches the authorities, one may be detained or imprisoned, beaten with whips or rods, or even suffer injuries to the flesh and limbs. Such humiliation and pain are difficult to describe to others. One’s parents grieve and worry; one’s wife and children weep; one’s brothers are alarmed; and one’s friends and relatives sigh.

To pursue a lawsuit, some people exhaust their household savings seeking help from every quarter, and must also prepare food and drink for the clerks and runners at the government office. If they are fortunate enough to win within ten days or so, they may count themselves lucky. Otherwise, the case can drag on for years, requiring repeated trips from the county to the prefecture, then to higher supervisory offices, and even to more distant authorities. The matter in dispute may be small, but the damage it causes is great: the sum at stake may be only a few strings of cash, while the expenses grow to a hundred times as much. In the end, one may exhaust the family’s wealth and sell off fields and gardens. Then there is no way to support one’s parents, no time to care for one’s wife, and no opportunity to raise one’s children. One spends the whole day rushing to the court and being pushed around by officials. Even with a grand house, how can one live in peace? Even with warm clothes and plentiful food, how can one enjoy them?

Alas, the longer a dispute lasts, the deeper the enmity grows. It spreads like a fire across the fields and becomes difficult to extinguish. If people could yield at the outset, things would surely never reach such a pass. Still, there are cases in which going to court is truly unavoidable; such situations are bound to arise. What is more, some people incite others to fight and teach them to sue, using the opportunity to make money and satisfy their appetites. Such people are certain to bring disaster upon themselves and leave calamity to their descendants. Below, I will give one or two ways to mediate disputes and discourage conflict, in the hope that anyone who wants to reconcile people but does not know where to begin may find a way.

The Zaozhi Jing says that there are two kinds of giving: material giving, such as offering money or goods, which anyone can practice in the human world; and the giving of the Dharma, which means teaching the Dao and helping others, and arises from great compassion. This shows that the merit of giving the Dharma is no small thing. When two people are arguing, even a few words that reconcile them and help both find calm and peace can be a form of giving the Dharma.

Long ago, Li Wujing was summoned to take up a post in the eastern capital. As he passed through Zhuxian Town, he saw two beggars fighting in the road. One said, “I begged all year and saved several hundred coins. I lent them to you, and now you refuse to pay me back.” Seeing how fiercely they were fighting, Li Wujing used his own money to repay the debt on the other man’s behalf. One beggar walked away. The other said to him, “You were willing to get me out of trouble. You are truly a good person. I live in Longhe Qu. Come and visit me one day, and I will surely repay you.”

Li Wujing had gone several miles when he thought to himself, “That man is only a beggar, yet he says he will repay me. Could he be an extraordinary person?” When he reached the eastern capital, he went to look for the beggar in his spare time, and indeed found him. The man invited him inside and offered him wine, but Li Wujing declined. Then he offered him peaches. Unable to refuse again, Li Wujing took two and put them in his robe. Halfway home, he took them out and saw that they had turned into purple gold.

At Kaiyuan Temple, Cui Wei saw an old woman begging for food, her steps unsteady. She knocked over a wine jar at a vendor’s stall, and the vendor beat her severely. Cui Wei hurried over to stop him and asked how much the wine was worth. The vendor said it was worth one string of cash, so Cui Wei took off his clothes and paid for the old woman’s loss. She left without thanking him. Later, they met again on the road, and the old woman said, “I have not forgotten that you came to my aid. I am skilled at treating warts and other raised growths on the skin. I have some mugwort from Yuejing Ridge, which I will give you as a small token of thanks. If you ever encounter such a growth, moxibustion with it will cure it. One treatment is enough; none will fail to heal.”

Later, Cui Wei met a monk with a wart hanging from his ear. He treated it once with the mugwort, and it disappeared at once. The monk then took him to a household whose master was very wealthy and also had a wart. After one treatment, it too was cured. From then on, Cui Wei’s medical skill became widely known, and many people came to ask him for treatment. Before long, he became wealthy. He never forgot how it had all begun; the matter stayed in his thoughts day and night.

One day, he met another person, who told him, “That old woman was actually Bao Gu, the daughter of Bao Liang and the wife of Ge Hong. She has practiced medicine and moxibustion in the South Sea for many years.”

When we see others arguing or bringing lawsuits against one another, should we help them fight, or should we try to reconcile them and resolve their disputes?

Appreciative Commentary:

Words that are reasonable and fair can settle disputes and overcome difficulties. Those who draw close to slander and false teachings can drive people apart. When suspicion and anger gather, regret and wrongdoing continue to grow. A quarrel between princes ultimately became a calamity for the state. Alas, when eloquent speakers use their words to stir up conflict, they are like people who trade in blessings for profit.

Recklessly Pursuing Factions:

The Tradition says: The Most High—a Daoist title for the supreme divinity—transmitted to the Perfected One of Universal Aid a concise method for gathering and disciplining the mind, comprising twenty-four approaches. Each of the many harmful habits people acquire can be brought under control by a corresponding practice:

For a fondness for killing and harming others, gather the mind through compassion; for stealing and robbery, through a sense of justice; for illicit and wanton sex, through chastity; for stinginess and greed, through giving; for anger and quarrels, through a joyful heart; for ignorance, delusion, and confused conduct, through skillful means; for flowery speech, through simplicity and rectitude; for lies and deceit, through honesty and trustworthiness; for foul language and curses, through recitation; for sowing discord and insulting others, through praise; for drinking alcohol and eating meat, through abstention; for slander and defamation, through explaining what is right; for arrogance and contempt toward others, through bowing; for forceful bravado, through gentleness and humility; for disbelief in wrongdoing, blessings, and destiny, through the principle of causes and conditions; for clinging to existence or nonexistence, through the Middle Way; for clinging to right and wrong, self and other, through an equal regard for all; for greed and defilement, through purity; for stubbornness, through the cycles of change; for restless striving, through Wuwei (non-action); for rigidly adhering to rules without knowing how to adapt, through flexible responsiveness; for impatience, rivalry, and a troubled mind, through stillness and concentration; for sorrow, grief, and unhappiness, through ease and freedom; and for afflictions that cannot be dispelled, through liberation.

People’s harmful habits are usually not removed all at once. The Most High therefore revealed these methods so that people would learn to restrain and discipline themselves. Today, those who follow factions at will are bound to fall into such faults as flowery speech, deceit, sowing discord and insults, and clinging to right and wrong, self and other. Applying these methods for gathering and disciplining the mind, and considering the principles discussed in this chapter, we should understand that such people will incur the Most High’s condemnation through their own conduct.

Have you not heard of the “Discourse on Factions”? It says: “Gentlemen become friends because they share the same convictions; petty men form factions because they share the same interests.” A ruler should dismiss only the false factions of petty men and appoint gentlemen who are true companions in the Way. Ouyang Xiu expressed this with great insight.

In the past, the Khitans and the Xia people fought beyond the Yellow River. Fan Wenzheng was ordered to defend and pacify Hedong, and requested permission to lead troops there. Du Zhengxian believed the Khitans might not come and that troops should not be sent hastily. Fan Wenzheng was furious and even spoke offensively to Du Zhengxian, but Du bore no grudge. The Khitans did not come after all. People of the world once accused both men of forming a faction. Yet when they discussed state affairs, their views differed so sharply. Could they really have been dismissed simply because they were called factionalists?

Sima Junshi and Fan Jingren were close friends, each believing that no one could equal the depth of their bond. They once said that in life their aspirations were the same, and after death their names would be remembered together. On important matters of advancing, withdrawing, and choosing a course, they often agreed without consulting each other. Their views on three major issues seemed to come from a single mind, and they worked together like a person’s left and right hands. Sima Junshi also said, “Jingren and I are like brothers, differing only in our surnames.”

Yet when it came to the study of bells and pitch standards, they argued repeatedly and never reached agreement throughout their lives. From this, gentlemen understand that even when two people have much in common, they do not necessarily agree with each other merely to form a faction. Could they really have been dismissed as factionalists just because they were friends?

In general, whether at home or in the community, matters large and small should be judged by fair public opinion. How can people be dismissed at will on the strength of the label “faction” alone?

The eulogy says:

Among people’s words, some are right and some are wrong; distinguish them by the principles of reason. When people disagree, judge them by the quality of their actions. Someone who stubbornly holds to their own opinion may seem upright, but that does not necessarily make them an honest person. Those who share the same aspirations and understand one another are worthy of being called gentlemen. Once the right path has been distinguished from the deviant path, it becomes clear whether one’s friends are suitable companions.

The twenty-first scroll of the Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution (Taishang Ganying Pian) ends here.

The twenty-third scroll of the Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution.

Transmitted by Li Changling; eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Abandon what is harmonious and imitate what is contrary.

The commentary says: Shi Que, a minister of the state of Wey during the Spring and Autumn period, held that there were six kinds of conduct called the “Six Rebellions”: the lowly harming the noble, the young bullying the old, the distant sowing discord among the close, new acquaintances rejecting old ones, petty people rising above great ones, and indulgence destroying what is right. When a ruler acts in accordance with righteousness and ministers serve with full commitment; when a father is caring and a son filial; when an elder brother is affectionate and a younger brother respectful—these six relationships accord with proper order and are called the “Six Harmonies.” Abandoning the way of harmony and imitating rebellious conduct will quickly bring disaster.

Broadly speaking, the difference between following the principles of Heaven and acting against them comes down to these matters.

Long ago, in Chang’an, a wealthy man named Fan Wei amassed a huge fortune but falsely claimed that Fan You, a county magistrate, was his grandfather. While Fan You was magistrate, he issued an order on yellow paper exempting the Fan family from compulsory labor service. This privilege continued for more than fifty years. Later, when men and supplies were requisitioned for military affairs in the west, ordinary households were driven into hardship, while Fan Wei remained undisturbed. When Liu Chang became magistrate of Chang’an County, he uncovered the fraud. Fan Wei was convicted under the law, and the authorities confiscated his property.

Zhou Zong had taken the civil service examinations many times without passing. He then went to Qiao Commandery and claimed that Zhou Ji, an administrative clerk, was his father, spending his days among Zhou Ji’s sons. He even adopted the personal names of the Zhou family’s ancestors for three generations. The following year, he happened to pass a lower-level examination, and Zhou Ji wrote a poem rebuking him. After reading it, Zhou Zong was deeply distressed, filled with shame and resentment, and eventually died. Are people who act this way not abandoning the right path and imitating wrongful conduct? It is a pity that he never heard the words of the True Lord of the Southern Pole, the Daoist deity who governs longevity, blessings, and good fortune.

The Perfected One of Taiji, Xu Laile, once met the True Lord of the Southern Pole and asked him about the principles governing the length of one’s life and the coming of good or ill fortune. The Lord replied: “The Way of Heaven bestows blessings on the good and brings calamity upon those who do evil. The gods reward those who follow the right path and punish those who turn against it. If you devote yourself to doing good, restrain yourself and follow Heaven’s will, remain still in accord with the standards of the Dao, and act in harmony with your blessings, then your fate will be in your own hands; you will not be at the mercy of the spirit who governs death or of ghosts and spirits. Without deliberately seeking longevity, you will naturally live long; without deliberately seeking to survive, you will naturally survive. But if you undermine the bonds of social order and violate the Way of Heaven and Earth, indulge in foolish and defiant behavior, slight the gods, abandon benevolence, and harm loyalty and filial piety, you will be caught in the net of the law in this world and punished by ghosts and spirits in the unseen realm. When death is near, it is too late to speak words of goodness; when your offenses have piled up, it is too late to seek repentance.” In light of the Lord’s words, how could anyone abandon the right path and imitate wrongful conduct?

The commentary says:

What is done with an impartial heart never fails to accord with the right path; what is done from selfish desire never fails to oppose it. The root of an impartial heart is righteousness, while selfish desire arises from personal judgment. Restrain the passions and follow what is right, and your conduct will be upright and free of bias. A single mistaken thought can turn many things upside down. Following Heaven’s principles brings good fortune; opposing them invites calamity. This is the law established by the Heavenly Emperor.

Turning away from one’s own kin and instead drawing close to those who are distant.

The biography records that Confucius said: “To fail to love one’s own parents while loving others is to violate Virtue; to fail to respect one’s own parents while respecting others is to violate ritual propriety. In short, one must clearly distinguish degrees of closeness, and remain alert to any act that violates ritual propriety or Virtue.”

In the past, Shen Jizhong was the son of Xuan Yilang Shen Qi’s concubine. His grandmother was the paternal aunt of Yang Yuansu, a Hanlin Academician. At the time, Yang Yuansu had a son who was ill and unable to manage the family’s affairs. When Shen Jizhong was born, Yang Yuansu took him as his own son because the two families were related through their mothers. Later, Yang Yuansu had two sons in succession. Shen Jizhong learned the truth about his birth, but kept silent and did not dare reveal it. Instead, he became even more filial and careful, never allowing anyone to drive a wedge between them. Yang Yuansu therefore loved him dearly.

Twice, Shen Jizhong had the opportunity to receive an official appointment through a court recommendation, but he firmly declined and yielded the opportunity to his two younger brothers, resolving to earn distinction through the civil service examinations. In the fifth year of Yuanfeng (1082), he passed the jinshi examination. Several years later, Yang Yuansu died in Yuhang, and Shen Jizhong escorted his coffin back to his hometown. After the burial and the end of the mourning period, he arranged suitable marriages for his younger siblings. Once these matters were settled, he handed all the family property to his two younger brothers and left home. He also wrote several thousand characters in a text titled “Discussion on Returning to One’s Birth Family” for his relatives to read. Its general point was that the kindness of one’s birth parents and that of the parents who raised one are equally profound; though one may have largely repaid the care one received in childhood, one must not neglect one’s birth parents.

He returned to his birth family, paid his respects to his parents, and searched everywhere for his birth mother, Du. After a long time, he found her among the common people. Her face was filthy, her feet bare, and she could scarcely make ends meet. Mother and son embraced and wept bitterly, moving the passersby. Twenty years later, Shen Jizhong’s birth parents died. When his mourning period ended, he returned all the ancestral farmland to his elder brothers and left empty-handed, renting a place to live. Some urged him to keep at least one or two shares of the family property, but he firmly refused, saying: “The Yang family’s wealth was ten times greater than this, and I gave it up as if it were a worn-out shoe. My elder brothers now depend on this property to live. How could I take a share to support myself?”

The educated men all praised him. Later, the Circuit Intendant Xu Guangyi recommended him to the court. The emperor issued an edict commending him, granted him an official post, and appointed him to oversee schools and education in the Yongxing and other circuits. Not long afterward, Shen Jizhong died. Xu Guangyi, together with Xue Sichang, a Hanlin Academician at the Xuanhe Hall, and Yuwen Huangzhong, a Secretariat Drafter, again reported his deeds to the court. The court issued another edict, granting an official post to one of his sons.

Alas, how many people in the world are like Shen Jizhong? He truly understood how to handle family affection and moral obligation with care.

The commentary says:

One is closest to one’s parents. Brothers share the same vital energy, like a person’s two feet and hands. The family line extends from generation to generation, reaching as far as the nine degrees of kinship. Though relatives differ in how close they are, the bonds of affection and duty should remain deep. What is to be gained by abandoning one’s kin to draw close to outsiders, in defiance of proper human relationships?

Do not call upon Heaven and Earth to bear witness to your improper intentions.

The scripture says: Heaven has thirty-two layers that cover, and Earth has thirty-two layers that bear. Heaven covers and Earth bears, each moving according to its own original Qi. People live between Heaven and Earth. Those who follow the right way meet with good fortune; those who go against it encounter calamity. The response comes swiftly, like an echo. Even when we act with caution and reverence, we still fear incurring guilt. How much more sacrilegious, then, to recklessly swear by Heaven and Earth in support of one’s improper intentions?

In former times, the father of Lord Wang Yi was unlearned, yet he deeply respected Confucian scholars. Whenever he came across discarded paper, he would pick it up, wash it clean, and store it with incense. He once made a vow: “May my descendants rise to prominence through learning.” One night, he dreamed that the Sage Who Proclaimed the Way (Confucius) stroked his back and said, “How diligently you honor my teachings! It is a pity that you are already old and unlikely to achieve much. I will send Zeng Shen, one of my disciples, to be reborn in your family.” In his later years, he indeed had a son, whom he named Zeng. That son later placed first in the highest civil service examination and rose to become Vice Director of the Secretariat and Chief Minister of the Chancellery.

Li Jingxun’s mother, Madam Zheng, strictly supervised her sons’ studies. One day, after a wall in the family home collapsed, they found a jar of money. Madam Zheng burned incense and prayed: “Could Heaven and Earth have taken pity on a lonely mother and her children, and specially bestowed this money on us? Yet all I hope for is that my sons succeed in their studies and, once they enter official service, live on their salaries. This money is not what I asked for.” When she had finished, she sealed the money away again. Li Jingxun later passed the civil service examinations and rose to become Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent. Alas, the words spoken by Lord Wang Yi’s father and Madam Zheng were of this kind, and Heaven and Earth’s response proved just as they had hoped. Who, then, could think that Heaven and Earth would not punish those who call upon them to witness improper intentions?

The commentary says:

Duke Zhuang of Lu swore that he would no longer support his mother, gravely failing in filial devotion and kindness. Wang Xizhi swore at his father’s grave that he would never again hold office, and was also criticized for it. Whether we look up to Heaven or down at Earth, countless eyes are watching; deception is difficult. If our thoughts and actions are upright, they will naturally withstand scrutiny. Will the August Heaven and the Sovereign Earth really heed an improper oath?

Call upon the spirits to bear witness to selfish and improper affairs.

The transmitted text says: Within each person’s body there are spirits, and within each residence there are spirits as well. The spirit of the brain is called Niji; the spirit of the eyes, Yingxuan; the spirit of the ears, Youtian; the spirit of the nose, Lingjian; the spirit of the teeth, Luo Qian; the spirit of the tongue, Zhenglun; and the spirit of the hair, Taiyuan. In the throat are the spirits of the twelve storied towers, named Taiyi. The spirit of the lungs is called Xushen; the spirit of the liver, Sheming; the spirit of the gallbladder, Weiming; the spirit of the heart, Shouling; the spirit of the spleen, Huiting; the spirit of the kidneys, Yuying; and the spirit of the palms, Jingning.

There are also the Lords of the Jade Youth and Jade Maiden, the Lords of the Dao Father and Dao Mother, the Lords of the Master Father and Master Mother, the Lord of Drinking the Sea, the Lord of Joining Life, the Lords of the Thirty-Six Lions, the Lord of the Dantian (energy center), the Lords Laozi of Upper Harmony, Middle Harmony, and Lower Harmony, and the True Lords of the Three Origins. These, too, are spirits within the human body.

The spirits in a residence each have their own duties. The ghost-spirit who guards the entrance is called Chengbo; the one who oversees opening and closing the doors is called Shibo. The ghost official who guards the main gate is called Zhengong, and the one who guards the small gate is called Xiaozhen. The ghost-spirit within the residence is called Xizidu, and the ghost official who guards the room doors is called Wanlun. The guardian official of the kitchen spirit is called Yanjing, and the guardian official of the latrine is called Nu Zhi. The ghost-spirit on the roads is called Wu Ziding, and the guardian official on the roads is called Shigong. These are all spirits in a residence. One should understand that everywhere has its own presiding spirits. How could one fail to take warning from this and behave with disrespect or irreverence? In the past, Wang Shaoyi was kept for a long time in a dark prison. Tao Hongjing said, “This man relied on his own cleverness and, filled with resentment, brought a complaint against the spirits. That is why he suffered this calamity.” This makes it even clearer that spirits must never be offended lightly.

The eulogy says: The spirits do not acknowledge the oaths described in the transmitted text. The people of Qin cursed the people of Chu, yet in the end they did not prevail in virtue. A ritual officer boasted recklessly and deceived Heaven; afterward, seized by fear, he began to cultivate himself and correct his faults. Zheng did not perform a ritual to avert disaster and put out a fire, yet Confucius prayed when he himself fell ill. The spirits are wise and upright—why would they need flattering words?

After giving away possessions, one may later regret it.

According to legend, during the Mingdao era, droughts and locust plagues struck Taiping Prefecture one after another, leaving the people short of food. Suddenly, a plant called “wumei grass” sprang up among the hills and marshes. People gathered it to stave off hunger and were spared starvation. During the Zhidao era, famine struck the Huanqing Circuit. None of the five grains yielded a harvest, yet fields suddenly filled with mugwort whose fruits resembled millet and could satisfy hunger. In the early years of the Xining era, famine struck the Huai-Zhe Circuit, and the wilds suddenly became covered with mushrooms. They tasted sweet and had a soft texture, and could be boiled into soup. During the Yuanfeng era, famine afflicted the area around Qingzhou and Zizhou. Something called “stone flour” suddenly appeared among the mountain rocks; mixed with a little wheat flour, it could be made into cakes. During the Shengli era, a severe famine struck Zizhou. The Perfected Lord Zhenwu, a revered Daoist deity, transformed himself into an old man and came into the city each day to sell steamed food, rescuing many people. In the final years of the Jianlong era, famine struck the Hebei Circuit. The Perfected Lord again transformed himself, this time into a merchant, and brought in 150,000 hu of millet and wheat. Once the grain had been delivered, the merchant vanished. The authorities used it to aid the people, extending relief to several neighboring prefectures and commanderies.

In general, famine is a disaster and also a matter of fate. Yet food arises amid calamity: this is the benevolence inherent in Heaven and Earth. The Perfected Lord’s relief of the people likewise embodied the benevolence of Heaven and Earth. People today receive Heaven and Earth’s harmonious Qi and possess their form, yet scarcely have the compassion of Heaven and Earth. How, then, can they be called human? Sadly, they do not understand that Daoist practitioners of virtue should carry great compassion into the world, treat everyone equally, and regard aiding others as a form of virtue. By helping people while accumulating good deeds, they can attain an extraordinary spiritual rank.

Have they not heard the stories of Zhou Huihua and the others? Zhou Huihua delighted in giving and aided the poor and needy, never shirking because the work was difficult. One day, Perfected Zhi Guan transformed himself into a beggar and asked Zhou for food in the street, thereby testing his character. Zhou was indeed glad to give, and that very day received salvation. He is now Perfected One of the Western Florescence. Liu Kuan loved to help the poor and never stopped. Later, the Most High enrolled him among the immortals; he is now the Senior Marquis, Commander of the Tongchu Palace, responsible for those beginning their Daoist training. Zhe Xiang came from a wealthy family, yet often reminded himself, “The more wealth one accumulates, the more one will lose.” He gave freely, sparing no thousands of gold pieces, and often donated all his possessions. The Lord on High approved of him and granted him release from the mundane world. Liu Baiyun was also well off. At first, he knew nothing of cultivation and simply did good and gave freely, without begrudging his wealth. In the end, he encountered Perfected Le, received the essential teachings of the Dao, and became an immortal. How worthy they were! All of them attained an extraordinary spiritual rank quickly because they delighted in giving.

How could someone who regrets giving alms afterward be counted among the virtuous? You should know that giving alms is one of the quickest ways to accumulate merit. Even if the results do not appear at once for everyone, each person will surely receive a fitting reward. Have you not heard the stories of Yang Boyong and others?

Yang Boyong took pleasure in giving away charity drinks—free beverages for people to drink. One day, he met an unusual man who gave him a pint of jade seeds. From then on, Yang’s descendants were all wealthy and prosperous.

The three Pei brothers were all glad to help others. One day, an old man came to their door asking for a drink. The brothers welcomed him with respect. The old man said, “You brothers are all honest and kindhearted. With so much virtue accumulated, how could you fail to receive blessings?” During the An Lushan Rebellion, the old man led them into a cave, where they escaped the turmoil. Later, all three brothers became high-ranking officials, and everyone in their family lived past one hundred.

Xi Baisan was poor. One day, he saw a Daoist practitioner ask a shopkeeper for a single coin. The shopkeeper glared at him and refused. Indignant, Baisan reached into his belt, took out his own coin, and gave it to the Daoist. That night, he dreamed that the Daoist cured a growth on his face. When he woke, the growth on his cheek had indeed disappeared.

A few days after Tang, a Privy Council official, died, he appeared in a dream to his grandson and said, “While I was alive, I was stubborn and inflexible by nature, but I committed no serious wrongs. This year’s harvest is poor. If you open the granary and provide relief to the disaster victims, that will be far better than performing Buddhist rites for me, and it will help me too.” That very day, his grandson gave five hundred shi of rice to the county magistrate, Sun Jun-kuang, for disaster relief. That night, he dreamed again of Tang, who said with a smile, “I have ascended to Heaven.”

These are all cases of people receiving their own rewards because they were glad to give alms. Can someone who regrets giving afterward expect to receive blessings like these?

The Buddha said that giving food brings five kinds of blessings. The first is “giving life”: the reward is long life and immeasurable wealth, life after life. A person deprived of food may die within seven days. By giving them food, I keep them alive; this is why it is called “giving life.” The second is “giving good appearance”: the reward is a dignified appearance, life after life, that brings joy to those who see it. When people lack food, their faces grow haggard. By giving them food, I restore their health and gladness; this is why it is called “giving good appearance.” The third is “giving strength”: the reward is strength throughout every life, never diminished.

When people lack food, their bodies inevitably grow thinner and weaker. If I give them food and help them regain their strength, this is called “strength-giving charity”: giving food to restore another person’s physical strength. The blessing gained from this kind of charity is to live in peace from one generation to the next, without encountering disaster.

When people lack food, they are bound to grieve, fearing for their lives. If I give them food and help them regain a sense of security and happiness, this is called “security-giving charity”: giving food to free people from danger and hardship. The blessing gained from this kind of charity is to handle affairs smoothly from one generation to the next, and to have one’s words accepted by others.

When people lack food, they can be so distressed that they cannot speak. If I give them food and help them speak again, this is called “eloquence-giving charity”: giving food to restore another person’s ability to express themselves. This shows that the single act of giving food can bring five kinds of blessing. How much more, then, if one gives generously wherever charity is called for?

Eulogy:

Those who follow the Way in pursuit of blessings transport grain to aid the people, yet hope for a reward in return. Those who seek hegemony invoke benevolence and righteousness, but have other aims. To put on a show of sincerity in order to win a good reputation is not genuine. Once they lose their backing and fall on hard times, they blame Heaven and others. When the Five Grains fail, even wild millet, like barnyard grass, can serve as precious food.

Borrowing something and failing to return it.

Ancient books say that many people in the world borrow things from others and never return them. Who would think that what goes unpaid in life must ultimately be repaid after death?

An official named Chen Yi borrowed two hundred thousand coins from Wu Zongsi, but firmly refused to return them. Wu Zongsi challenged him: “If I owed you money in a former life, then this money repays you now. But if I did not owe you in a former life, and you are the one who owes me, then you should become a donkey and repay me.” A year later, Wu Zongsi was sitting alone in his hall when he seemed to see Chen Yi carrying money to repay him. Not knowing that Chen Yi had died, he hurriedly called out and questioned him. But Chen Yi had quietly entered someone’s house, and when Wu pursued him, he was nowhere to be found. Before long, a mare gave birth to a foal. Wu Zongsi asked whether Chen Yi was still alive and learned that he had indeed died that very day.

A daughter from the Zhang and Chen families, named Fo’er, suddenly died when she was fifteen. Half a day later, she awoke and said, “At first, two ghost officials seized me. We passed Biling, where I saw two ghost officials wrapping someone in a black quilt and carrying him into the Chen family’s home. Then they wrapped me in a flowered quilt and said, ‘You owe that family fifteen hundred coins. Now it is time to repay them.’ Suddenly, a man dressed in green came forward and said, ‘This person has also gained insight into prajna, the Buddhist wisdom. Let her offense be forgiven this once.’ I immediately fell into a pond and woke with a start.”

The next day, her father went to Chaling to ask around, and sure enough, there was a Chen family there. That night, the family’s dog gave birth to three puppies: one spotted and two black. The spotted puppy accidentally fell into a pond and drowned. Fo’er’s father hurried home to fetch money, intending to repay the Chen family, but they refused to accept it. The two families then agreed to donate the money to Huangyan Temple and hold Buddhist rites—chanting scriptures, performing repentance ceremonies, and other religious observances—to dispel the offense.

If this is so, how can one borrow another person’s property and simply refuse to return it? Better to repay the debt while still alive than to face such retribution after death.

The eulogy says:

The state of Jin once borrowed grain from Qin, yet even after three acts of generosity, it failed to repay the debt. Later, war followed upon war and the state was lost, leaving only grief for its downfall. A deer brought grass in gratitude for the life it had been spared; who can say that tigers are entirely cruel? Remembering even a single meal received from another is the conduct of a worthy person. Those whose hearts harbor no debt earn the approval of the spirits and the worthy among humanity.

Seeking gain beyond one’s proper share.

The scripture tells us that people living in this world, whether noble or wealthy, humble or poor, each have a destiny already set. The saying “the unseen is recorded in Yin, and received in Yang” means that things have been arranged beyond our sight: the blessings and hardships people experience in this life are connected to the causes they accumulated in the past. If we seek more than our allotted share, can we really obtain it?

Long ago, a man named Liu Hang was highly talented in writing and believed he was certain to pass the imperial examinations with distinction. At that time, the revered Daoist deity the Perfected Lord Who Assists the Sage descended upon Mount Zhongnan. Liu Hang brought incense and asked him for guidance. The Perfected Lord said, “Your writing is excellent, but your allotment is meager. You should accept your place and withdraw to preserve what you have; in this way, you may still live out your remaining years. If you keep striving for more than your share, you may shorten your life.” Liu Hang did not believe him. In the end, he died without achieving an official title. This shows that official rank and success in the examinations each have their allotted measure. Even passing at the lowest level cannot be forced.

Mr. Wu had risen to the rank of Grand Master and was over seventy when he prepared to retire. He suddenly dreamed that a deity said to him, “You still have seven hundred thousand in stipend money unclaimed.” The next morning, Mr. Wu checked the records of his stipend, and the amount was indeed correct. He instructed his sons not to claim it. They did as he said and did not mention it again. Before long, Mr. Wu died. His sons lamented that perhaps dreams were not worth believing. That night, they dreamed again of the deity, who said, “Wasn’t that seven hundred thousand the half-stipend Mr. Wu was entitled to receive after retiring?” The sons were horrified, but their regret came too late. This shows that lifespan and stipend, too, have their allotted measure; even what one is entitled to receive may not be enjoyed in full.

Before Xiahou Jiazheng passed the examinations, a boy named Liu, skilled at reading people’s bone structure, once told him, “You can attain distinction through your reputation, but in other respects your prospects are weak. Apart from your stipend, if you unexpectedly come into a hundred gold pieces, you will fall ill or even die.” Later, Xiahou Jiazheng became an official responsible for remonstrance and a compiler at the Historiographers’ Institute. When he served as envoy for Prince Yi’s birthday, he received several hundred thousand coins in gifts. He brought the money home and put it away, intending to buy property. Suddenly, one coin stood upright on the ground and remained so for a long time before falling over. Xiahou Jiazheng was so alarmed that he suddenly fell ill and died. This shows that even a single coin has its allotted measure; an unexpected gain may not be something one can keep.

The book also mentions an office in the underworld government, in Daoist belief, called the Commissioner Who Seizes the Surplus. Its role is to take away wealth acquired beyond a person’s allotted share. After Pei Pu died, he became the Commissioner Who Seizes the Surplus for Longyou and the Three Rivers. He appeared in a dream to his friend Wei Yuanfang and said, “Every drink and morsel people consume, and every treasure they possess, is recorded in a register with its allotted measure. What people may receive is limited; if they get more than that amount, we take away the excess.” After Zhang Yu died, he was punished for his offenses by being made a surplus-seizing ghost in Yangzhou. He appeared in a dream to the monk Minchu and said, “In this world, ghosts like us number in the thousands upon thousands, beyond counting. The profits people make in business also have their allotted measure; if they exceed it, we take away the excess.” If so, when nothing in the world goes as we wish, could it be that these things belonging to the underworld government are secretly taking away what we have gained?

Human desires should be restrained by one’s circumstances and proper duties. Even if your household is wealthy, there is no need to crave more; even if your station is low and you must earn a living wielding a whip, you should be content with your lot. When circumstances are steady, wait in peace; take reckless risks, and you may quickly come to grief. Keep your thoughts within the bounds of your responsibilities, and you can preserve both yourself and your good name. Gentlemen, do not vainly covet rich rewards that are not yours to claim.

Arbitrarily imposing labor on others.

The Commentary says: To disregard people’s strength and drive them to excessive toil is what the Supreme One called “making arrangements at the expense of their strength.” Who would have thought that coveting the labor of others to accomplish one’s own ends could bring punishment, or even cause one to fall into an evil realm after death?

“Coveting achievement” means coveting other people’s labor to accomplish one’s own ends. The story recorded by Li Xuzhou illustrates this well. During the Jiayou era, Shen Yuzhi served as prefect of Hangzhou. Whenever he visited the various embankments, he requisitioned the oxen there to pull and carry loads. It was the height of summer, and the supervising officials and others were sleeping out on the embankments, watching the flow of water in and out.

Suddenly, they heard voices calling to one another in turn and asking, “What work is there tomorrow?” One voice replied, “Tomorrow Shen Ji’s son will pass through here. He is coming to Hangzhou to serve as prefect, so we will have to toil again.” Another voice said, “Shen Ji already has a son coming to serve as prefect of Hangzhou?” Then it began to weep and lament. The officials could tell that the voices and manner of speaking were unlike those of ordinary people, so they sent someone to investigate. They discovered that the speakers were several oxen on the embankment. One of the oxen shed tears, and everyone wondered, “Who knows whether these oxen might be the reincarnated kin and friends of Shen Ji?”

When Li Xuzhou heard of this, he recorded it solemnly to warn people against arbitrarily imposing labor on others. Yet many still took no heed. In the past, when Lu Bing served as commissioner for salt affairs, he dug a river exclusively for transporting salt. At the time, autumn rains fell without letup and the farm work was not yet finished, but Lu Bing put thousands of laborers to work each day, driving them to dig the river in the mud and rain. The people suffered terribly. Su Dongpo therefore wrote a poem containing the lines, “People like pigs and ducks, thrown into the mud, splashing and startling one another.” These words show just how harshly the laborers were driven. Alas, if Lu Bing had seen the story recorded by Li Xuzhou, would he not have been afraid?

Eulogy:

On a perilous path a thousand fathoms high, even a brave man like Meng Ben or Xia Yu could be swept into a deep ravine if he fell. Why act recklessly, indulging your own will by harshly driving the people? What was meant to help them instead became their calamity. Fortunately, a sagely ruler extends benevolence and bestows the Five Blessings.

Excessive indulgence in sexual desire.

Li Changling relates that, according to the Daoist Canon, humans are the most spiritually endowed of all beings. A person’s lifespan is originally about 43,200 days, and the vital spirit contains 36,000 units of primordial Yang Qi—the innate Yang energy spoken of in Daoism—weighing 384 zhu, an ancient unit of weight. Within the body, this corresponds to the Qian trigram of the Book of Changes. If people do not know how to preserve themselves and allow their primordial Qi to dissipate, they will die before reaching the midpoint of their lifespan. All six lines of the Qian trigram are Yang, symbolizing abundant Yang energy that has not yet been discharged. Those who understand this principle and cultivate body and mind can attain the realm of the immortals.

If a person repeatedly discharges their vital energy between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five, they will lose forty-eight zhu of primordial Qi, and what remains corresponds to the Gou hexagram. Those with especially strong desires will lose another forty-eight zhu over the next ten years, leaving energy that corresponds to the Dun hexagram. If they still do not know how to preserve themselves, they will lose another forty-eight zhu in the following ten years, leaving energy that corresponds to the Pi hexagram. At this point, their primordial Qi is in an intermediate state between Heaven and Earth. If they continue to neglect its preservation, they will lose seventy-two zhu over the next five years, leaving energy that corresponds to the Guan hexagram; five years later, they will lose another ninety-six zhu, leaving energy that corresponds to the Bo hexagram. If they still fail to preserve themselves, then, following the sequence of the sixty-four hexagrams formed by the eight trigrams, their primordial Qi will eventually be exhausted, corresponding to the Kun hexagram. Kun is pure Yin. At this stage, a person can sustain life only through food, which is why it is called “mere survival”: they are just barely alive. Once a person reaches this state, death is not far off.

Moreover, the Kidney Hall is the Mysterious Pass, the aperture within the body where Jing and Qi converge in Daoist internal alchemy. The heart and kidneys are joined in a single channel, pure white as a thread and continuous as a ring. At its center it is one cun and two fen wide, and it contains the essence of the whole body. This is called the wondrous Qi of the Nine Heavens, the True One, and harmonious emptiness. It is the most refined Qi and the deep root that sustains life. The five viscera and six bowels, the hundred joints and hundred channels, as well as the Golden Fluids and Jade Liquids—the Daoist terms for bodily fluids—and the radiance of the sun and moon are all contained within it. If one can regularly guard and preserve it, the Qi seas in the upper and lower parts of the body will respond at their appointed times. Jing and Qi will naturally rise like a tide until they reach the Gate of Life, the source of life in Daoist thought.

In general, Ren is one of the roots of life, and the kidneys are the fundamental site of the lower Dantian; hence they are called the “Sea of Longevity.” If one cannot restrain the coccyx region, where Jing and Qi are liable to leak away in Daoist internal alchemy, they will be depleted as if the sea had dried up. Have you not heard what Qibo said? The Yellow Emperor asked him, “I have heard that people in ancient times lived to a hundred and still moved without decline, while people today become physically weak before they reach fifty. Has the age changed, or have people themselves lost the Way of nourishing life?”

Qibo said: “Those in ancient times who understood the Way of nourishing life followed the changes of Yin-Yang and brought their various methods of self-cultivation into harmony. They ate in moderation, kept regular hours, and did not overwork themselves. Thus body and spirit remained in balance, and they lived out the full span granted by nature, passing away only after reaching more than a hundred years of age. People today, by contrast, drink wine as if it were water and make excess their way of life. They have intercourse while drunk, allowing desire to exhaust their Jing (essence) and dissipate their original vitality. They do not know how to preserve their Jing or gather their spirit, seeking only momentary pleasure. They go against the enduring principles that benefit life and keep no measure in their daily routines. As a result, they begin to grow old before they are fifty.

“The Huangting Jing (Scripture of the Yellow Court), a Daoist classic on nourishing life, also says: ‘For long life, the key is to be careful in matters of the bedchamber.’ The desires people are most eager to satisfy are precisely where living beings accumulate the gravest karmic burdens. Sadly, they do not realize that sexual attraction to women harms them. According to Buddhist teaching, lust is the source of many forms of suffering, obstruction, harm, and sorrow, so those who understand the matter keep their distance from it.

“In his later years, Ren Huigong grew ever healthier. Someone asked him how he nourished his life. He replied, ‘I came to understand it while reading the Wenxuan, an anthology of classical literature.’ When asked what he had understood, he answered: ‘“Jade hidden in stone makes the mountain shine; pearls within the water make the river beautiful.” That is the principle.’

“When Pu Chuanzheng was governor of Hangzhou, an elderly local man named Li Jue came to pay him a visit. The man was a hundred years old, with a fresh complexion like a baby’s. Pu asked him how he nourished his life. The old man said, ‘My method is extremely simple. There is nothing else to it: I gave up sexual desire at an early age.’

“Can lust, then, be indulged without limit? Can the principle of restraining desire really be left unpracticed? A separate account describes illicit sexual conduct this way: seeing a beautiful woman in another man’s household, one forms the intention of possessing her and secretly engages in all manner of improper acts.

“The encomium says:

“If urging someone to do good brings harm upon oneself, that person cannot be taught. If doing good benefits oneself, it should be kept in mind for one’s whole life. What most calls for caution is sexual desire; this is essential to preserving life. Those who revere the teachings of the sages will have no regrets throughout their lives. Indulging desire recklessly damages life. After death, whom can one blame?

“Harboring cruelty within, while outwardly feigning kindness.”

The account says: People who are vicious at heart but gentle in appearance are like Li Yifu. Li looked exceedingly respectful and mild. Whenever he spoke with someone, he wore a pleasant expression and a faint smile. But inwardly he was treacherous and cruel, narrow-minded, and quick-tempered. If anyone so much as crossed him, he would secretly harm them. People called him “the knife behind the smile,” and also “the human cat,” saying that he seemed gentle but was actually dangerous. In the end, he was indeed banished and died in Junzhou. From this, can we conclude that cruelty can be hidden in the heart? Most cruel-hearted people in the world are much like him. Little do they know that after death, they will fall into evil destinies—painful realms of rebirth.

Long ago, Lu Tian had a maid named Xiaojin who was suddenly tormented by a female ghost. He called in several spirit mediums and ritual specialists, people responsible for prayers and rites to avert misfortune, but none could cure her. He then prayed before the Buddha. One night, Lu Tian dreamed of an old man riding a lion, whose appearance resembled a bodhisattva. The old man said to him: “The one tormenting Xiaojin is the wife of Wu, your neighbor to the east. Her surname is Zhu, and her name is Twelve. She was cruel-hearted in life and, after death, fell into the serpent realm, reborn as a snake. After she died, she discovered that a great paper mulberry tree below Shetianzhu Temple stood over an underground passage. Over many years, she became a spirit there and gained the power to transform herself. If you wish to escape this calamity, quickly take refuge in the home of a virtuous family. There she will naturally dare not come near.”

Lu Tian did as instructed, and the female ghost never returned. So should a person keep cruelty in the heart, or goodness? One person fell into the serpent realm after death; another was so protected that not even a ghost dared approach. You must choose for yourself between the two.

The verse of praise says:

A bird of prey about to strike first hides its form. A person setting a trap covers it until it looks level with the ground. With soft words and a pleasant face, even an enemy is caught unaware. The poison of the aconite and the venom of the zhen bird can still be recognized and guarded against. “Human cat” is indeed a name well earned.

Feed others food fouled with filth.

Ancient books also speak of feeding people impure food. The Book of Rites (Liji), in the “Summary of the Rules of Propriety” (Quli), says, “Do not put fish or meat left over from a meal back with the food.” This refers to food that has already entered someone’s mouth and is no longer clean. In terms of karmic retribution, such conduct not only diminishes one’s blessings but is certain to bring disaster. Have you never heard the stories of Chan Master Shiyan and Qu Yongshou?

Long ago, Chan Master Shiyan gave up his official position and became a monk. He had two pupils in each eye, which made his younger brother suspicious. So he pretended to have an eye ailment and often wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. People consequently called him “Shiyan,” meaning “Wiping Eyes.” Yet wherever he went, an aura of light appeared, making him increasingly uneasy. One day, while the monastery was cooking porridge, he took off his undergarment and shook it over the pot. From then on, the aura around him disappeared. In light of this, can feeding people impure food fail to diminish one’s blessings?

Qu Yongshou made his living selling rice. In the year Yi-mao of the Shaoxing era, he heard that rice prices had suddenly soared. He took water from a rice paddy to moisten the grains, unaware that the field had just been fertilized with manure. Soon dark clouds gathered and thunder shook the sky. Qu Yongshou knew he had done wrong and feared he could not escape punishment. He took a string of coins from his waist, gave it to a fellow traveler, and asked him to take it to his mother. As soon as he had finished speaking, the sky cleared, and he was spared disaster. In light of this, can feeding people impure food fail to bring calamity?

According to Buddhist teaching, the retribution goes further still: after death, one is sure to be reborn as a pig, a dung beetle, or a hungry ghost. How could this not serve as a warning?

The verse says:

Fine things acquired unjustly, Zhongzi would certainly spit out; food offered like a thief’s would also be spat out, so it could not stain the teeth. Food trampled underfoot and then given to someone would be rejected even by a beggar. If an offering is made without respect, what use is it to set out the three sacrificial animals—pig, ox, and sheep? To treat people like beasts: how can that be called a minor slight?

They deceive the people with crooked and unorthodox ways.

The old books say that so-called “deviant arts” are sorcery. How could anyone who treats sorcery as a skill avoid ruin?

Hou Mocheng Liyue gained favor through deviant arts and rose to the post of Defense Commissioner of Zhengzhou. He lived extravagantly and lawlessly, and killed many people. After Zhao Pu sent officials to investigate his crimes, Liyue was stripped of his official status, branded, and exiled to Shangzhou. Later, someone strongly urged that he be executed. The emperor ordered an envoy to cut out his heart and display it publicly. Soon afterward, the emperor regretted this and sent someone to pardon him. But as the envoy rode in haste, he encountered muddy roads and fell, delaying his journey. By the time he changed horses and arrived, Hou Mocheng Liyue had already been disemboweled, and his body had been thrown beneath a tree beside the post station.

Li Tan and his sons studied sorcery. When their deeds came to light, both the father and his sons were imprisoned in the Censorate’s jail. After the case was concluded, Li Tan was demoted to the post of assistant prefect in Nan’enzhou, while several of his sons were exiled to the Lingnan region and escorted out of the city that same day. Later, after those accompanying him had left, Li Tan took his own life.

Yang Qian claimed to have mastered the arts of Mozi: he could command ghosts and spirits and summon food. Even when an object was held in someone else’s hand, he could use magic to take it. He also practiced alchemy and refined mercury. He never lost when gambling with others; he could even open locked doors and change his appearance. There was almost nothing he could not do. For a time, powerful nobles and officials praised him and bestowed titles and fine clothes on him, making him extremely arrogant. Before long, his deeds were exposed, and he was ultimately executed.

Ming Chongyan excelled at sorcery and claimed he could instantly bring him anything located a thousand miles away. One day, while sleeping alone in his bedroom, he was suddenly stabbed to death by a ghost. After his death, the knife was still lodged in his chest. People said that he had been too harsh in his command of ghosts and spirits, and that they had turned on him and killed him.

If this is so, can anyone really use deviant arts to mislead the people?

The commentary says:

The Zhou dynasty established prohibitions and safeguards against those who delighted in strange arts. Confucius did not speak of strange and uncanny matters because he feared they would disrupt the natural order. Benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music are the guiding principles followed by rulers throughout the ages; the food and drink needed in daily life depend on farming and sericulture. The generals Wencheng and Wuli used occult arts to deceive Emperor Wu of Han, but in the end the emperor had them executed.

“Short measures and narrow standards” means making measuring rods and units of measurement too short and too narrow. It is a metaphor for using distorted standards to cheat and gain advantage.

The Classic of Documents (Shangshu), in “The Canon of Shun,” says that standards for pitch, length, capacity, and weight should be unified. The Great Tradition (Dazhuan) says that when a sage governs the realm while facing south, he must begin with the principles of how people conduct themselves and deal with one another. There are nine matters of human relations, and establishing standards for weights and measures comes first. The Institutions of the Kings (Wangzhi) stipulates that cloth and silk whose texture falls below the standard, or whose width does not meet the required measure, may not be sold in the marketplace. The Monthly Ordinances (Yueling) says that in mid-autumn, weights and measures should be standardized, the balance weights and beam calibrated, and measuring vessels corrected. Mencius says that one must first measure with a ruler before one can know what is long or short.

In ancient times, when the Duke of Zhou received the feudal lords in the Hall of Light, he established rites and music and promulgated standards for weights and measures, thereby bringing all under Heaven into submission. Here, “measure” refers to the zhang and chi, as well as height, depth, width, and narrowness; “capacity” refers to the volumes of vessels such as the dou, qu, dou, hu, kuang, and ju. In general, people’s hearts are prone to lose their sense of fairness, so these standards were set up to uphold equity. Today, some people disregard the standards and deliberately make measures short and containers small. This violates the Supreme One’s prohibitions and forfeits the fairness within one’s own heart. Such conduct deceives others, but in the end it only deceives oneself.

Have you never heard of the “heart-spirit”? The reclusive scholar Zhu Zhenbai of Jiangnan said, “People speak of not deceiving the spirits. In my view, this means not only refraining from deceiving the gods of Heaven and Earth, but also not deceiving the heart-spirit within oneself. That is what it truly means not to deceive the spirits.” Someone asked the eccentric old gentleman, “How should one serve the spirits?” He replied, “Serve the heart-spirit within yourself. You need neither millet offerings nor animal sacrifices; simply do not deceive yourself.” Alas, how many people understand this principle? It is precisely because they do not understand it that they shorten rulers and make measuring vessels small, and will do anything at all.

The admonition says: To seek great gain by slightly violating principle is beneath the dignity of a gentleman. Goods that fail to meet the required measures may not be sold in the marketplace. Even a difference of a tiny fraction should not be driven by selfish intent, much less should one haggle over every detail and make deductions at every turn. If one dares to disguise the desire to steal profit and cast aside public justice, the measure may appear undiminished, but what is truly harmed is oneself.

“Light weights and small measures” refers to the fraud of giving less weight when weighing goods and less volume when measuring them.

It is said that in Heaven there is a palace office overseeing measures and scales, while on earth people also use measures and scales to weigh and quantify goods. Among the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions, the mansion Zhang oversees this matter. In this chapter, the Most High lists such conduct among offenses. In general, small units of measure such as the zi, zhu, sheng, and ge concern the urgent daily needs of ordinary people. Even a single coin or a single ingot of silver is hard to come by. So whether it is a zi or a zhu, a sheng or a ge, none should be treated carelessly or dismissed as unimportant merely because the amount is small.

According to the Cloud Registers of the Five Thunders, during the reign of Chen Houzhu, a man in the marketplace was struck dead by lightning, and several characters appeared on his back. Li Juzheng, a man who had attained the Dao, recognized them as the four characters “measures and scales, light and heavy.” The Lotus Sutra also records that when the Buddha was teaching, ten Rakshasi women (protective goddesses), together with their children and retinues, solemnly vowed before him to protect the sutra. They said: “The sin of killing one’s parents is like the calamity of pressing out oil; deceiving others with measures and scales is like Devadatta’s sin of dividing the monastic community. Anyone who harms this teacher of the Dharma should suffer such calamities.” In light of this, how could the offense of using scales that weigh short or measures that hold less than they should be considered minor?

Cheng Sichang therefore refused to use measures and scales with inaccurate weights, and instead set up the True Warrior Perfected Lord (a revered Daoist deity) to observe and record good and evil, entering the matter in the register of good deeds. Li Yongzheng, by contrast, made a scale with its weight concealed in a hanging cord and a measure whose bottom had been altered. For this he was condemned by the Emperor on High, who ordered the local spirits to warn him in the world of the living and hold him accountable in the underworld. Yingxian Wulie was warned many times but still failed to heed them. In the end, he went blind, his wife fled, his son died, and he himself was reduced to begging in the street. These events are all recorded in the texts. How could they fail to serve as a warning?

The verse of praise says: A scale beam takes its standard from the counterweight; when weighing goods, one must be fair. Measures such as the sheng and dou are used to receive and deliver goods. Yet some seek to gain extra advantage through them, secretly clouding what others can see and hear. They indulge their private desires while placing them in instruments meant for public use. To measure with sheng and dou or weigh with scales without deceiving others is one thing; to deceive one’s own conscience is truly dreadful.

Mixing the false with the true.

An old book says: One who mixed counterfeit goods into genuine ones was Lu Chang, who lived at the foot of Mount Lu and mixed fish oil into lamp oil. Another was Huang Yü of Jianlong Monastery, who made candles from beef tallow. They did this for a long time, until both were struck dead by thunder. In general, deceiving and misleading others is the gravest offense. These are not the only examples: in the buying and selling of everyday food, medicines, and even gold, silver, and cloth, no deception, however slight, should be practiced.

Have you not heard the stories of the two immortals? When Lü Dongbin had just begun learning the Dao, he met an unusual man who taught him methods for cultivating the Dao. Lü Dongbin said, “I would like to hear the principles behind them.” The man replied, “Boil and refine copper into silver.” Lü Dongbin asked, “Would this transformation have any flaw?” The man answered, “It would. The flaw would not appear until five hundred years later.” Lü Dongbin said, “Since it would harm people five hundred years from now, people would not want to learn it.” Because he said this, his name was entered in the Heavenly Register, the celestial roll of names. Later, he met Zhongli and at last transcended the mortal world.

Li Zhen was gentle and modest by nature, and never took anything from others without repaying them. One day, he met a Daoist who called himself Zhang Qiwux. The man taught him an art for transforming base metals into gold and silver. Li Zhen said, “My allotted share in life is meager; I do not wish to learn this.” Zhang Qiwux was greatly impressed and said, “Your insight surpasses even mine.” Then he pulled out his hairpin, transformed it into a precious sword, and slashed open a crack in the ground. He leapt inside, and the earth closed behind him. It turned out he was an immortal. Li Zhen later attained the Dao and became an immortal too. If so, how could mixing counterfeit goods with genuine ones fail to bring retribution? What fate awaited Lu Chang and Huang Yü after their deaths?

The encomium says:

Passing off counterfeit goods as genuine does little harm to the objects themselves; when people corrupt what is right, the consequences reach their families and the state. Conducting business like a market trader, while being deceitful, greedy, sinister, and corrupt, yet claiming a celebrated reputation, joining a clique, and attaching oneself to the powerful—if one is deceived in this way, it is like mistakenly eating aconite, a poisonous herb.

Seeking unjust gain.

The commentary says, “Mixing what is false with what is true.” The Taishang Ganying Pian also speaks of “seeking profit through dishonest means.” This refers to gaining advantage by improper methods; it does not mean only “mixing what is false with what is true.”

Long ago, a man named Yang Bing lived beside a great river. Each year he stockpiled firewood, hoping the riverbank would burst so he could sell the wood at a high price and make a larger profit. At the time, Zhao Changyan was the military governor of Tianxiong and also oversaw local affairs. When he learned of this, he took action. That autumn, as the river rose, Yang Bing again incited lawless men to damage the embankment deliberately. The officials responsible for the dikes raised the alarm. Zhao Changyan ordered his men to go straight to Yang Bing’s home and take all the firewood he had stored to repair the embankment. He also had Yang Bing imprisoned for investigation. Once the facts were established, Yang Bing was punished according to law. From then on, this kind of harm was brought to an end, and the people living along the river no longer dared to seek ill-gotten wealth in this way.

Sun Nanjin was adopted as a son by a wealthy family. Relying on the family’s influence, he cultivated ties with officials, helped people litigate, disrupted government affairs, and committed every kind of misdeed. After he had handled one or two major cases, the officials gained little from them, while he secretly pocketed large sums of money. He used the money to buy farmland and houses, growing ever more arrogant. Later, he even melted down copper coins to make objects, drained ponds to catch fish, set nets for fishing, traded wine for hemp, built boats, and installed water-powered mills. He diverted irrigation water and seized other people’s fields. Whatever others dared not do, he did; whatever others dared not take, he claimed for himself. After several years, he suddenly fell gravely ill. He could not eat and grew so thin that his backbone protruded, like a jackal’s. After he died, people said he had turned into a donkey. Seeing this, how could anyone think that seeking profit through dishonest means is acceptable?

The verse says: He seeks profit through deceitful words and seizes it by every possible means. Consider his intentions: he schemed and twisted this way and that, trying every stratagem. Only after the poison had taken hold did he seek a cure; only after the fire had spread inside the house did he think to put it out. When profit is pursued through wicked means, disaster arises from intense greed. Hidden poisonous insects bite without warning, and worms inside the wall can cause harm too.

The ancients said, “Forcibly reducing honest people to servitude is something only those who do not believe in cause and effect would dare to do.” They did not know that those now reduced to servitude had all committed sins and accumulated evil deeds in past lives, their misdeeds exceeding eighteen hundred in number. If someone who was not one of these people were placed among them by me, that would be what is called “reducing the good to the base”—forcibly turning an honest person into a lowly servant. Would anyone with understanding approve of such conduct?

Long ago, Ma Juan’s father had reached middle age without a son, so he took a concubine. She was very beautiful. Whenever she combed and arranged her hair, she would avoid Ma Juan’s father, looking sorrowful. He found this strange and asked her why. She said, “My father once held office, but unfortunately he died. My family lives far from our home region, and we had no means to return, so I had to sell myself. My father has not yet completed the mourning period. When I tie up my hair, I use white silk; I have only covered it temporarily with red silk so you would not see it. There is no other reason.” Moved by her story, Ma Juan’s father made inquiries that very day and found her mother. He sent the woman home and gave her generous support.

That night, he dreamed of a figure dressed in feathered robes who said, “Heaven will grant you a son, and blessings and good fortune will endure through generations.” The following year, he indeed had a son, whom he named Juan. This was Ma Juan, who later became a great benefactor. When Ma Juan grew up and sat for the civil service examinations, the feather-robed figure appeared in another dream and said, “If you wish to pass, you must take first place thirteen times.” Ma Juan later came first in the examinations at the Imperial Academy and in the provincial examinations, and finally ranked first throughout the empire when the results were announced at the palace. In all, he took first place exactly thirteen times.

Cheng Yanbin, military commissioner of Luocheng, attacked Suining. On the day the city fell, his subordinates presented him with three young women, all very beautiful. Cheng Yanbin had just become drunk. He said to them, “You are like my own daughters. How could I violate you?” He personally locked them in a room. Early the next morning, he found out where their parents lived and sent them home. Their parents wept with gratitude and said, “May the Grand Marshal soon be granted the honor of a military standard.” Cheng Yanbin replied, “I would not dare hope for such an honor. I ask only to die without illness; that would be enough.” Later, he rose to the rank of regional inspector and died peacefully at the age of ninety-seven. Several of his sons also became officials. Who can say that doing good of this kind will not bring its due reward? From this, we can see that forcibly reducing honest people to servitude will surely bring punishment.

Eulogy:

Lou Jing once pulled a cart to escort Emperor Gaozu of Han into the Pass, yet later he was entrusted with important responsibilities. Wei Qing was born into servitude but went on to become a great general. A person’s low status must not be looked down upon, and a person of good character must not be arbitrarily suppressed. Duke Wen of Jin, Chong’er, once held water in his own hands so that the woman Huai Ying of Qin could wash, but his improper manner offended her. Women must not be treated with contempt—how much more so men? And how should an official who serves as the people’s parent treat the people?

Deceiving and making fools of others.

An old book says that no act of deception or mockery should be committed; this is all the more true when the target is dull and ignorant. Long ago, a man named Mao Lie grew rich through ill-gotten gains. Whenever someone had good farmland, he would watch it covetously and scheme in every possible way to seize it, stopping only once he had succeeded.

A man named Chen Qi had three younger brothers who were still children, so he mortgaged all the family’s land to Mao Lie’s household for a low price. When his brothers had grown up and the land had been divided, he prepared the money and went quietly to redeem it. Mao Lie took the money but delayed returning the land. After putting it off for a long time, he then deceived Chen Qi and denied the debt. Chen Qi appealed repeatedly but could not obtain justice, so he went to the Yue shrine and submitted a complaint.

Before long, Mao Lie died, and the next day Chen Qi died as well. Later, Chen Qi came back to life and said that Mao Lie had pleaded with him at the Office of Yue, the divine bureau that oversees judgment in the underworld: “In my life I did this thirteen times. The contracts are still in a certain chest in a certain place. Please go back and be sure to tell my family to find them quickly and return the land to its rightful owners. Perhaps that will lessen my guilt. Otherwise, my guilt will only grow worse.”

Zhang Gai owned a large residence. Short of money, he mortgaged it to Zhang Jun and borrowed a thousand strings of cash. Zhang Jun greatly admired the residence, so he gave the intermediary a generous gift and had him forge a deed of outright sale. Once the deed was written, Zhang Jun changed the words “mortgaged as security” to “sold outright,” turning it into proof of a permanent sale. Several years later, Zhang Gai ran short of money and went to redeem the residence. Zhang Jun showed him the deed, which turned out to be one of outright sale. Zhang Gai had nothing to say. He left in tears and cursed the heavens: “May your descendants one day be just like me, wanting to speak but unable to.” Later, Zhang Jun’s descendants indeed all lost their voices and died.

Can it possibly be right to deceive and cheat others? Such conduct is wrong even when the other person is not dull or ignorant.

The verse of praise says:

When you see a blind person, compose your own bearing; when you enter an empty room, be as careful as if someone were there. Discipline yourself even when alone in a dark room; when you go out to meet people, show the respect you would show a guest. Keep your intentions free of deceit and treat all things equally. The people may seem simple and ignorant, but the spirits are watching. Whoever thinks they can fool the people ends up fooling only themselves—as the Qin dynasty learned.

Insatiable greed.

The ancients said that Laozi taught, “Those who know contentment are truly wealthy.” He also said, “No fault is greater than greed, and no calamity greater than discontent.” And again: “Which is closer to us, reputation or life? Which matters more, life or possessions? Which brings greater anxiety, gain or loss?” Excessive craving inevitably takes a heavy toll, and hoarding too much often ends in great loss. Those who know contentment will not be humiliated; those who know when to stop will not meet with danger. In this way, they can endure.

Mozi said, “It is not that there is no place to settle, but that the heart cannot find peace; it is not that there are too few possessions, but that the heart knows no contentment.” Zhuangzi said that the great Peng bird and the small bird among the hedges are different in size, just as the great Chun tree and the short-lived mushroom differ greatly in lifespan. Yet in the end, each accepts its own circumstances and adapts to its own life. These are all sayings of sages and worth taking as guides when it comes to possessions.

Alas, people in the world need clothes only to cover their bodies, yet even those wearing fur robes worth a fortune still feel they do not have enough. They do not realize that people in coarse cloth can also live in ease and contentment. Food is needed only to satisfy hunger, yet even those served lavish banquets still feel they do not have enough. They do not realize that people who eat simple fare and drink a ladleful of water can also take pleasure in life. A house is needed only for shelter from wind and rain, yet even those living in grand halls and spacious courtyards still feel they do not have enough. They do not realize that people in humble thatched huts can also live in peace. Utensils are needed only to make things easier to use, yet even those who drink from jade cups and eat with ivory chopsticks still feel they do not have enough. They do not realize that one can drink and eat with crude vessels and still be content. This is why people’s hearts are never satisfied.

Does no one understand that everything in the world will, in the blink of an eye, return to nothing? Our bodies, too, will eventually change and perish. The only thing that does not disappear with the body’s changes is that clear, luminous nature of the mind. Rather than waste effort on things that will inevitably change and perish, it is better to devote some practice to the unchanging nature of the mind.

Long ago, King Prasenajit said to the Buddha Shakyamuni, “I am now approaching old age, and in the end I will change and perish.” The Buddha asked, “Have you seen the waters of the Ganges?” The king replied, “I saw them when I was three.” The Buddha asked again, “Now that you are sixty, have you seen them?” The king replied, “I saw them just yesterday.” The Buddha asked, “How do the Ganges waters you see now differ from those you saw at three?” The king said, “They are exactly the same.” The Buddha said, “Although your face has become wrinkled, the nature of your seeing has not. It is the body, which changes, that wrinkles; the seeing that does not wrinkle is not changed along with it. The changing body will eventually perish, but the unchanging seeing was never born and never dies.” King Prasenajit understood at that moment: after the body dies, life can leave behind its old body and enter a new one; it is not utterly extinguished.

The Third Patriarch, Shangnahexi, asked Upagupta, “How old are you?” Upagupta replied, “I am seventeen.” The patriarch asked, “Is your body seventeen, or is your nature seventeen?” Upagupta asked in return, “Master, your hair is white now. Is it your hair that is white, or your mind?” The patriarch said, “Only my hair is white; my mind is not.” Upagupta replied, “My body is seventeen, but my nature is not—that is the same principle.”

In general, the body that undergoes birth, death, and change appears at times and disappears at others, like a cycle with neither beginning nor end. Moreover, thoughts flow on without interruption. We see them arise and burst like water bubbles, but this is only an appearance produced by delusion. The same principle applies from the moment a person first becomes conscious until all activity and thought come to rest. If people in the world could all gain insight into this, that clear, luminous nature of the mind would remain lucid throughout. If it appears in the world again, why worry that it will lack blessings? And what could possessions possibly be lacking?

The eulogy says: How much time does a person have in this world? Life is like morning dew clinging to grass and trees: it soon vanishes. It is like an autumn leaf that must eventually fall from its branch. Human life is limited, so why insist on seeking more? The ruins of Lütai and the lofty terraces of the Li Palace once embodied the height of wealth, honor, and prestige. Now they have crumbled into mounds of earth.

Seeking Justice Through Curses

The commentary says: A “curse” need not be written down and presented in a formal memorial. When people quarrel in anger and carelessly call on ghosts and spirits to punish their opponent, that too counts as a curse. According to the Jingshi Chapter, once someone utters a curse, all kinds of deviant and malevolent ghosts and spirits may seize the opportunity to cause trouble across the four directions, among mountains, marshes, and lands. These include ghosts punished for making oaths, ghosts that bring illness, cemetery ghosts, harmful spirits, ghosts that bring calamity, and all manner of evil ghosts associated with pestilence, malign influences, and misfortune.

The scripture holds that curses are difficult to dispel unless one petitions for their release through a formal memorial and summons the Celestial Master’s subordinate generals—the Great General Who Cuts Off Ghosts, the Great General Who Destroys Temples, and the Great General Who Ends Curses and Oaths—to scatter those spirits, each in turn. Given this, how can anyone use a curse to seek justice?

In the past, a father and son from the Zhang family often quarreled in anger, cursing the heavens and reviling the sun at the slightest provocation. Later, the son and nephew fought over the division of the family’s property. They made offerings to ghosts and spirits and cursed and harmed one another. Within a few years, nearly everyone in the family had died or been injured. Only one branch, whose members had not taken part, survived, but the family’s fortunes had declined and were no longer what they had been.

There was also an elder named Yang who often visited a widow’s home and behaved familiarly with her, prompting gossip among those around them. The widow was strong-willed and, unable to bear the anger, prayed to Heaven, made offerings to ghosts, and cursed them. Within a year, she and Elder Yang both died, one day apart. The scripture asks: Were the two of them actually having an affair? Did the widow truly have nothing to do with him and seek only to prove her innocence, or was there something between them and she hoped to silence the gossip? The truth is unknowable, but the account can still serve as a warning.

The eulogy says: When the Zhou authorities judged cases, they used five methods of listening—attending to people’s words, expressions, and other signs—to discern their circumstances and make it difficult for them to conceal their true feelings. This did not mean judging by speech alone; it also meant examining what lay within a person’s heart. When rival states form an alliance, a ruler’s benevolence may thereby be lost. Speaking too much often leads instead to difficulty; it is better to endure in silence. If one relies solely on the spirits to listen and discern, how can one demonstrate sincerity and win people’s trust?

End of Volume Twenty-Four of the Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution.

Volume Twenty-Eight of the Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution

Narrated by Li Changling; eulogy by Zheng Qingzhi.

Spitting or urinating while facing north.

It is said that Yang Ziyun (Yang Xiong) wrote a treatise arguing that in spring and autumn, day and night are equal in length because the sun rises due east at the Mao hour and sets due west at the You hour. Huan Tan then wrote the Xinlun to refute him: “The Mao and You that Yang Ziyun speaks of are directions designated here on earth, not the Mao and You of the heavens. In the heavens, Mao and You should be determined by the Northern Dipper and the North Pole. The North Pole is the Celestial Pivot, the axis of heaven. The heavens have a North Pole just as an umbrella canopy has a central pole: the heavens turn, but the North Pole remains still; the canopy turns, but its pole does not move. From our perspective, north is indeed to the north, but it is not the very center of the heavens. In spring and autumn, the sun often rises and sets near the Southern Dipper. You must understand that the sky turns like an umbrella canopy: the northern path of the heavens always appears farther away, while the southern path is nearer. How could day and night in spring and autumn truly be equal in length?” Yang Ziyun was left speechless and could not reply. This makes it all the clearer that the Northern Dipper is at the center of heaven; there is no need to doubt it.

Thus the Primordial Lord (Yuanshi Shangdi) honored the North Pole with the title “Central Pole,” while the Perfected One of the Precious Heights called the seven stars of the Northern Dipper the “Seven Stars of the Central Heavens.” Confucians, too, say that the Northern Dipper is like the chariot of the Celestial Emperor: it moves through the center, governs the four directions, distinguishes Yin and Yang, establishes the seasons, harmonizes the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), advances the seasonal periods, and sets the various ordinances. Can these accounts be wrong?

In ancient times, the Celestial Sovereign, the North Pole, and the seven stars of the Northern Dipper emerged from a seven-jeweled lotus, gathered into a radiant light, and flew to the Central Pole, more than ninety thousand li above the earth. There they transformed into nine treasure palaces: the Purple Tenuity Enclosure, the Great Void Palace, and the region of Gouchen. They administer talismanic charts and govern the transformations and movements of heaven and earth; they are the rulers of the stars. The stars of the Northern Dipper are each paired with Heaven, Earth, Fire, Wood, Soil, Water, or Metal, and preside respectively over the human body, nature and life, good fortune, emoluments, official rank, lifespan, and wife and children. Each star has thirty-six palaces, and each palace has thirty-six departments. All the hundred spirits and perfected beings of the Three Realms and Ten Directions are under their authority. In view of this, is the North Pole of the Central Heavens not supremely revered? How could one defile the dwelling one venerates?

According to the Jing of Longevity, “north” does not necessarily refer only to due north. In spring, facing east; in summer, south; in autumn, west; and in winter, north—all directions indicated by the month’s seasonal ruling count as facing against the handle of the Northern Dipper. This diminishes one’s lifespan, and the effects come swiftly. One should take care to avoid it.

The key to restraining selfish desires is not to do what is contrary to propriety. Spitting carelessly without regard for others is to defy morality and flaunt one’s strength. It is like being trapped deep in a bamboo basket, in a peril so grave that even pulling out a few hairs causes alarm. Holding firm to one’s principles and never straying from the right path are qualities a noble person esteems. Besides, the Northern Dipper shines in the north, with all the stars circling around it.

Do not sing or weep before the stove.

The Scripture of the Yellow Emperor’s Stove records: “Before the stove, one must not sing, chant, or weep, nor curse, shout, laugh, or make a commotion.” This accords with the warning in the Scripture of the Most High on Response and Retribution. People know only that a stove is built from bricks and earth. How could they know that it has a sacred dignity and must not be offended?

Long ago, there was a temple on Mount Song known for its extraordinary manifestations. Its hall contained only a single stove, which no one dared approach for fear of calamity. As a result, people from near and far came almost daily to pray and make offerings. One day, a Chan master arrived at the temple, walked straight into the hall, and struck the stove three times with his staff. “You are made of mud. Where does your sacred nature come from? Where does your power to manifest come from? How dare you cook and kill living beings like this?” he said. Then he struck it three more times, and the stove broke apart and toppled with a crash.

A short while later, a man dressed in blue and wearing a tall crown sprang out and bowed to the master. “I am in fact the stove spirit of this temple, and I have long admired the Buddha’s teaching. Today, thanks to the master explaining the ‘Patience of the Non-Arising of Dharmas’ to me—the state of realizing that all phenomena are originally free of arising and ceasing, and thus abiding without disturbance—I have been able to leave this place and will soon be reborn in the heavens. How could I fail to bow in gratitude?” The master replied, “This nature has always been complete within you. It is not some teaching I have imposed on you.” The stove spirit bowed again and disappeared. People thereafter called the master “Stove-Breaking Fall-Down.”

Later, a monk asked the master, “I have followed you for a long time, yet you have never once given me your guidance. What principle did you use when awakening the stove spirit, that he could ascend to heaven at once?” The master said, “I only told him that he was made of mud. There was no other principle.” The monk stood pondering. The master asked, “Do you understand?” The monk replied, “I don’t.” The master said, “This nature has always been complete within you. How could you not understand?” The monk then bowed. The master said, “The stove has toppled; it is broken.” The monk too thereby attained great awakening.

Alas, the stove heard just a few words from the Chan master and was able to realize the Patience of the Non-Arising of Dharmas. Would those who sing or weep before a stove not invite calamity by offending the spirits?

Do not speak while eating, and do not sigh during a banquet. Grief and joy each have their proper occasions; neither singing nor weeping should be done casually. Such behavior not only shows disrespect to the gods but also disrupts the proper order of ritual. One should act with reverence and carefully consider when to speak and when to remain silent.

Some people also burn incense using the fire from their stove.

A transmitted text says: According to the precepts of the Celestial Master tradition in Daoism, the ashes and embers beneath a stove are called “the excrement of the Crouching Dragon,” and therefore must not be used to burn incense. I once consulted the Daoist scriptures and found many other prohibitions concerning the burning of incense and offerings. For example, a paper twist stained with oil must not be burned as spirit money; doing so is called “fruitlessly accumulating wax money,” meaning that the spirit money is stored up in vain. The treasuries of the Eastern Peak pile up like mountains, while the divine offices governing the realms of Heaven and Earth and Yin and Yang refuse to accept it. Another example: when making offerings to Zhenwu, a revered Daoist deity, do not use plums in summer or pomegranates in winter. When inviting the High Perfected to descend, do not burn nipple-shaped incense or sandalwood incense, for these are called “bathing incense.” The China rose is called “untimely blossom,” and the golden tung is called “ghost blossom.” All these things should be avoided. Rather than disregard the prohibitions and offend the gods, it is better to observe the religious rules with reverence.

The eulogy says: The ritual canons of the Zhou dynasty prescribed how fire was to be used, with both kindling and storing it governed by the proper season. The ancients made fire with a flint, which also shows that rites of sacrifice should be conducted with purity and devotion. Arrange the offerings with a reverent heart, for sacrifice and prayer. It may be improper to pick up leftover embers and use them casually. When nothing is done carelessly, the gods will hear one’s prayers.

Cooking with impure firewood.

Ancient texts record that although firewood is not placed directly in the cooking pot, its foul vapors rise upward as it burns. Soiled wood should therefore not be used for cooking. Have you never heard of “labor wood” and “tempered charcoal”?

Long ago, Xun Xu was dining in the emperor’s presence. As soon as the cook brought in the rice, Xun Xu said, “This rice must have been cooked over labor wood.” The emperor did not believe him, so he immediately summoned the cook and asked. It turned out that the fuel had indeed been the legs of an old cart. Yang Shou, too, always insisted that his food be cooked over charcoal. One day, Li Zhang hosted a banquet for his two sons and also had the meal cooked over charcoal. His sons did not touch their chopsticks at all, eating only a little fruit. The monk Sheng Ganglian, who served at the household gate, said, “Even if the other dishes are unfit to eat, what could there be to object to in rice cooked over charcoal?” The sons replied, “To cook over charcoal, the charcoal should first be burned until fully red, then put into the stove. That is why it is called tempered charcoal. Otherwise, smoke still rises from it. That is why we will not eat it.”

Alas, Xun Xu could tell that rice had been cooked over labor wood even when the fuel was the legs of an old cart; and the two sons objected to the smoky odor of charcoal that had not been fully burned. How much more so, then, when food is cooked over filthy firewood and then offered in sacrifice?

The encomium says: The grain used in sacrifice is called “bright millet,” and cooked rice should be presented first among the offerings. Vegetables should be neatly arranged and clean, and the offerings should be set out with order and abundance. One should honor the food bestowed by Heaven and dare not treat it carelessly in the least. The fire used in sacrifice must be suitable, and the firewood must be sorted and clean. Whether hosting guests or offering sacrifice to the spirits, cleanliness is what matters. What difference could there be in this principle between humans and spirits?

Rising at night, he was dressed with his body exposed.

The account says that, according to the Daoist Canon (Daozang), the sun and moon are each eight hundred and forty li wide. The sun moves through the Qian position, which symbolizes Heaven and Yang; the moon moves through the Kun position, which symbolizes Earth and Yin. When the sun receives the moon’s po, or bodily soul, it appears clear and radiant; when the moon receives the sun’s hun, or ethereal soul, it appears bright. Their clarity and brightness are their Qi; their essence is their nature; Yin-Yang is the pattern of their movement; the crow and the jade rabbit are their symbols; the hours of Mao and You are the times they pass through; day and night are the measures of their movement; and their conjunction is the means by which they exert their influence.

Broadly speaking, day belongs to Yang and night to Yin. Night is when the hundred spirits come together, so one should not expose the body, lest one offend the spirits. Have you not heard of Huang Sangou and Yuan Qing?

Long ago, thieves came to Zhu Shoucheng’s home three nights in a row, but failed to get away with anything. Their leader, Huang Sangou, was furious and resolved to succeed at all costs. When he returned, he had just entered the second courtyard gate when he saw dazzling firelight and several armored soldiers shouting orders to seize him. Panicked, he and his men rushed to flee, accidentally wounding one another in the confusion. Only after the case was settled did it become clear that the armored soldiers he had seen were attendants depicted in a painting of the deity Zhenwu, enshrined in Zhu Shoucheng’s home.

In Shanzhou, a courtesan named Yang Suzhen lived alone and had amassed considerable savings. The military officer Yuan Qing did everything he could to seduce her. After they married, he loaded all her possessions onto a boat, and they set off together for the capital. When the boat stopped at Mengyang, Yuan Qing got Suzhen drunk that night and sank her in deep water. Before long, Zhenwu was passing through the sky on patrol and brought her back to life. From this, we can see that no one can say there are no spirits in remote places in the dead of night. When rising at night, can one expose the body?

The admonition says: Wherever you are, keep your body covered; do not let your gaze fall below your sash. In all conduct involving the body and outward appearance, be respectful and cautious. Ease and indulgence lead to carelessness; at any hour, day or night, do not grow lax. Does the darkness of night give license to act without restraint and break the rules? To discern good and ill fortune, there is no need to trouble the diviner.

Punishments are carried out at the Eight Seasonal Nodes: the Beginning of Spring, Spring Equinox, Beginning of Summer, Summer Solstice, Beginning of Autumn, Autumn Equinox, Beginning of Winter, and Winter Solstice.

The transmitted text says that the Perfected Ones of Shangqing, revered Daoist deities, taught: On each of the Eight Seasonal Nodes—the Beginning of Spring, Beginning of Summer, Beginning of Autumn, Beginning of Winter, Spring Equinox, Autumn Equinox, Summer Solstice, and Winter Solstice—one should plan good works and refrain from anger and fighting. These are great taboos shared by Heaven and the human world. The guilt incurred is grave; how much worse, then, to carry out executions on these days?

Generally speaking, these are the times when the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning dispatches countless gods—including Celestial Worthies, Celestial Lords, Celestial Emperors, and divine troops—to descend among humanity, teach living beings, and bring all things to salvation. The Northern Dipper, the Southern Dipper, and the gods of the Four Offices and Five Emperors also descend to record people’s offenses and blessings.

Ordinarily, the sun travels along the celestial equator and the moon along the ecliptic. At the Beginning of Spring, the sun travels along the Green Path, appearing east of the ecliptic. The Three Primordial Ladies of the Three Sublimities ascend to pay court to the Great Emperor of the Celestial Sovereign. They feast and wander in the Primordial Radiance, practice the Way, and receive immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy Who Delivers the Immortals, the Supreme Sage, descends together with the Celestial Lord of the Beginning of Azure.

At the Beginning of Summer, the sun travels along the celestial equator, appearing south of the ecliptic. The Three Primordial Perfected Ones, the Supreme True Ones of the Supreme Ultimate, ascend to the Purple Tenuity Palace. They feast and wander in the Mysterious Radiance, practice the Way, and receive immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy Who Cherishes Life and Delivers the Destined descends together with the Celestial Lord of the Beginning of Cinnabar.

At the Beginning of Autumn, the moon travels along the White Path, appearing west of the ecliptic. The Lord of the White Emperor, the Supreme True One of Great Purity, ascends to pay court to the High Perfected One, the Mysterious Emperor of Jade Heaven. He feasts and wanders in the Primordial Radiance, practices the Way, and receives immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy of Great Spiritual Emptiness, the August Emperor, descends together with the Celestial Lord of the Beginning of Purity.

At the Beginning of Winter, the moon travels along the Black Path, appearing north of the ecliptic. The Emperor, Lord, and August Ancestor, the Perfected One of Shangqing, ascends to pay court to the Jade Emperor of the Nine Heavens Above. He feasts and wanders in the Cavernous Radiance, practices the Way, and receives immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy of Immeasurable Great Florescence descends together with the Celestial Lord of the Beginning of Mystery.

At the Spring Equinox, the sun again travels along the Green Path, appearing east of the ecliptic. The Lord of the Celestial Emperor of Great Tenuity ascends to pay court to the Jade Emperor Above. He feasts and wanders in the Radiance of the Beginning, practices the Way, and receives immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy, August Sovereign of Jade Treasure Above, descends together with the Emperor, the Aged Lord of the Beginning of Azure, Spirit of Azure.

At the Autumn Equinox, the moon travels along the White Path, appearing west of the ecliptic. The Lord of the Red Emperor, the Supreme True One of the Southern Pole, ascends to pay court to Lady Ninefold Spirit at the Upper Terrace of Langfeng. She feasts and wanders in the Luminous Radiance, practices the Way, and receives immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy of Utmost Sublimity and Great Mystery descends together with the Emperor, the Aged Lord of Bright Spirit.

At the Summer Solstice, the sun travels along the celestial equator, appearing south of the ecliptic. The Great Emperor, Lord of Fusang, ascends to pay court at the Palace of Great Tenuity. There he feasts and wanders, practices the Way, and receives immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy of Mysterious Truth and Ten Thousand Blessings descends together with the Emperor, the Aged Lord of Cinnabar Spirit.

At the Winter Solstice, the moon travels along the Black Path, appearing north of the ecliptic. The Jade Consort of Great Empyrean and the Supreme True One of Great Void ascend to pay court to the Celestial Emperor of Great Tenuity in the Palace of the Great Sovereign. They feast and wander in the Clear Radiance, practice the Way, and receive immortal registers. The Celestial Worthy, Jade Dawn of Mystery Above, descends together with the Emperor, the Aged Lord of Mysterious Spirit of the Fivefold Spirit.

All things endowed with the Qi of Heaven and Earth undergo change on these days. Birds, insects, plants, and trees—whether flying, crawling, growing, or lying dormant—change in response to causes and conditions: the old recedes and the new comes forth; what is light may become heavy, and what is heavy may become light; good and evil may also transform into one another. All this follows from the movement of Qi, destiny, and natural signs.

Those who study the Way and cultivate it should, on these days, practice visualization, pray and repent, and cultivate themselves and follow the Way in accord with change. They should seek good fortune and avoid calamity, increase their good deeds and cast off evil thoughts, pursue brightness and leave darkness behind, return to the proper Way and correct deviant conduct, refine away the false and cultivate the true, and strive diligently toward sagehood. They should also bring all beings to salvation and nurture all things, thereby following the intentions of the Supreme One and the perfected gods. What sort of people are those who carry out executions on these days? How dare they do such a thing?

Primordial Qi courses through Heaven and Earth, and all things have their proper measure and order. As the Northern Dipper turns and the stars shift, old things are renewed or pass away. Heaven carries out the Dao through rewards and punishments; people should follow the celestial signs and the movements of Qi and fate. The sequence of the four seasons sets change in motion, holding within it the promise of growth. People should receive Heaven’s blessings in season and restrain their power and anger.

Spitting at a shooting star: Do not casually spit toward a shooting star as it streaks across the sky.

According to legend, a divine being descended from the Northern Dipper, and so the Celestial Master (Tianshi) was born. The numinous Qi of the Xu and Wei lunar mansions gave rise to Zhenwu. A woman, responding to the stars, gave birth to the White Emperor. A shooting star entered someone’s mouth, and Ye Jun was born. What does this show about the stars’ ability to distribute numinous energy and give rise to outstanding people? A shooting star, too, is a kind of star.

The Shurangama Sutra says that at times people may see two suns or two moons, or halos around the sun and moon, comets, broom stars, shooting stars, and rainbows. These are all inauspicious signs. The Erya calls a shooting star a “rushing star,” also known as a “yue.” It calls a comet a “chan,” while a “qiang” is a broom star.

People know only that shooting stars are uncanny omens, but they do not realize that the stars themselves are not uncanny; it is human conduct that truly brings calamity. People should be alert, reflect on their faults, and promptly correct themselves. If so, how could one casually defile with spittle a good act meant to avert disaster? Have you not heard the story of Duke Jing of Qi speaking three virtuous words, after which the planet Yinghuo withdrew?

Eulogy:

A shooting star is Heaven’s messenger, racing across the vast sky. People use it to divine whether events will go well or badly, and calamity or good fortune may appear through it. Stones once fell from the sky over Song, and a meteorite once appeared in the camp of Wei, foreshadowing what was to come. When something changes in Heaven, how can people fail to act with reverence and caution? The claim that calamity can be warded off by counteracting magic is merely a shallow tale passed around in the countryside of Qi.

Pointing at a rainbow: Do not point at a rainbow with your finger.

According to legend, the Yankong Tu says, “A rainbow is an apparition produced when the Northern Dipper’s course is disturbed. When the Dipper departs from its proper order, a rainbow appears.” The Hetu Jiyao Gou says that when the Qi of Zhenxing disperses, it forms a rainbow. The Chunqiu Yundou Shu says that when the stars disperse, they become a rainbow. We should therefore understand that rainbows truly are the residual Qi of the Northern Dipper and other stars, made visible in form and color.

After Confucius edited the Spring and Autumn Annals and established the Classic of Filial Piety, he purified himself, bathed, and faced north toward the Northern Dipper to explain his purpose in writing. Suddenly, a red rainbow descended from the sky and transformed into a piece of yellow jade engraved with writing. Confucius knelt and received it. In light of this, who could say that rainbows are not formed from the residual Qi of the Northern Dipper and other stars? If someone points at one casually, how could there be no offense?

Eulogy:

When a rainbow appears in the east, even a poet dares not casually point it out. A white rainbow passes across the sun, and Jing Ke crosses the Yi River. In the “Li Sao,” the wind serves as a metaphor for petty people; the whirlwind conveys the same meaning. The celestial patterns sometimes change, revealing omens of calamity. Those who witness such phenomena should feel awe and reverence. How could they treat them lightly?

Pointing casually at the Three Lights—the sun, moon, and stars.

The commentary says that the Most High, a Daoist title of reverence for the supreme deity, gave this warning: If you see the solar or lunar luminary, the Northern Dipper, or the Southern Dipper, bow solemnly and pray for the gods’ protection. Report your plea upward, invoking the Most Holy and Supreme, the True Sovereign and Perfect Lord; ask them to pity mortals and pardon their errors, then bow again. Do not show disrespect, or you may instead invite calamity. If this is so, may one point casually at the Three Lights?

The Three Lights are the sun, moon, and stars. The taboos concerning the sun and moon have already been mentioned briefly. Here, we will speak of the Northern Dipper, the Southern Dipper, the Five Elders, the Five Planets, and the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions—the twenty-eight groups of stars mapped near the ecliptic. In general, people in the world do little good and much evil. As a result, they may endure hardship for years and suffer illness year after year, with little peace or ease.

If one receives the governance and protection of the Lord Hu of the Nine Eastern Yi, the Lord Chonghua of the Wood Planet, and the stellar lords of the seven mansions Jiao, Kang, Di, Fang, Xin, Wei, and Ji, one can avert the three fated calamities of punishment and harm associated with the Yin, Mao, and Chen years and the Jia and Yi days. The five disasters, nine calamities, and harmful Earth qi within the eastern region, extending 810,000 paces, can all be avoided, and one can remain safe from the first through the third lunar months.

If one receives the governance and protection of the Lord Yue of the Eight Southern Man, the Lord Yinghuo of the Fire Virtue, the Lord of the Sun and Southern Dipper, and the stellar lords of the seven mansions Jing, Gui, Liu, Xing, Zhang, Yi, and Zhen, one can avert the three fated calamities of punishment and harm associated with the Si, Wu, and Wei years and the Bing and Ding days. The five disasters, nine calamities, and harmful Metal qi within the southern region, extending 640,000 paces, can all be avoided, and one can remain safe from the fourth through the sixth lunar months.

If one receives the governance and protection of the Lord Di of the Six Western Rong, the Lord Taibai of the Metal Virtue, and the stellar lords of the seven mansions Kui, Lou, Wei, Mao, Bi, Zui, and Shen, one can avert the three fated calamities of punishment and harm associated with the Shen, You, and Xu years and the Geng and Xin days. The five disasters, nine calamities, and harmful Wood qi within the western region, extending 360,000 paces, can all be avoided, and one can remain safe from the seventh through the ninth lunar months.

If one receives the governance and protection of the Lord Qiang of the Five Northern Di, the Lord Chenxing of the Water Virtue, the Lord of the Moon and Northern Dipper, and the stellar lords of the seven mansions Dou, Niu, Nü, Xu, Wei, Shi, and Bi, one can avert the three fated calamities of punishment and harm associated with the Hai, Zi, and Chou years and the Ren and Gui days. The five disasters, nine calamities, and harmful Fire qi within the northern region, extending 250,000 paces, can all be avoided, and one can remain safe from the tenth through the twelfth lunar months.

If one receives the governance and protection of the Lord Cang of the Three Central Qin, the Lord of Earth, the Lord Zhenxing, and the stellar lords listed in the lacuna in the original text, one can avert the three fated calamities of punishment and harm associated with the Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei years and the Wu and Ji days. Harmful Earth qi in the center can be avoided, and the baleful influences accumulated by the Earth spirits can also be dispelled, ensuring safety throughout all four seasons.

If this is so, may one point casually at the Three Lights?

Emperor Yao governed the realm facing south and observed the central stars in the sky to determine the seasons. Emperor Shun put the Seven Regulators in order—the movements of the sun, moon, and the five planets, Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, and Saturn—and examined the Jade Balance and the Jade Pivot, instruments used in ancient times to observe celestial phenomena. They watched the heavens carefully and diligently, using what they saw to examine all matters of governance. The sun, moon, and stars in the sky shine upon the human world, leaving nothing hidden or obscure unobserved. Those who make groundless claims and speak carelessly are merely ordinary people who do not understand the principles involved.

The Commentary says: The Solar Lord governs the Yang Palace and commands the twenty-eight lunar lodges, which the ancients regarded as subordinate officials. The Lunar Lord governs the Yin Palace and oversees the Five Sacred Mountains and the twenty-four Qi, the seasonal energies into which the year was divided in the ancient calendar. These deities govern the mountains and serve as the officials of the earth. The Three Rivers, Four Seas, Nine Rivers, and Twelve Streams belong to the water palaces.

There are twenty-four Qi each year. At every solar term, the Solar Lord goes to inspect the lunar lodge on duty, and the Lunar Lord arrives on that same day. On that day, the lords of the twenty-four Qi who govern the mountains gather records of people’s good and evil deeds, calamities and blessings, longevity and allotted fortune, life and death, and report them to the mountain deities under whose authority they serve. The Director of Destiny for that mountain then copies the records and submits them to the divine official in the lunar lodge being inspected that term by the Solar and Lunar Lords.

At the Beginning of Spring, the report is made at the Void Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Supervisor, Lord Qi, of Yongquan Administration. At Rain Water, it is made at the Rooftop Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Supervisor, Lord Qi, of Beiping Administration. At the Waking of Insects, it is made at the Encampment and Wall Lodges by the Yin Official, the Left Inspector, Lord Qi, of Choujing Administration. At the Spring Equinox, it is made at the Legs Lodge by the Registrar. At Clear and Bright, it is made at the Bond Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Overseer of Merit, Lord Qi, of Mengqin Administration. At Grain Rain, it is made at the Stomach Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Overseer of Merit, Lord Qi, of Pinggai Administration. At the Beginning of Summer, it is made at the Hairy Head Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Supervisor of Merit, Lord Qi, of Yuntai Administration. At Grain Full, it is made at the Net Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Supervisor of Merit, Lord Qi, of Jinkou Administration. At Grain in Ear, it is made at the Turtle Beak and Three Stars Lodges by the Yin Official, the Right Director, Lord Qi, of Gongmu Administration. At the Summer Solstice, it is made at the Well Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Inspector, Lord Qi, of Yuju Administration. At Minor Heat, it is made at the Ghost Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Officer of Merit, Lord Qi, of Pinggang Administration. At Major Heat, it is made at the Willow Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Inspector, Lord Qi, of Beimang Administration. At the Beginning of Autumn, it is made at the Star Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Overseer, Lord Qi, of Gegui Administration. At the End of Heat, it is made at the Extended Net Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Director, Lord Qi, of Houcheng Administration. At White Dew, it is made at the Wings Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Inspector, Lord Qi, of Benzhu Administration. At the Autumn Equinox, it is made at the Chariot Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Overseer of Spirit, Lord Qi, of Qinzhong Administration. At Cold Dew, it is made at the Horn and Neck Lodges by the Yin Official, the Left Adjudicator, Lord Qi, of Yangping Administration. At Frost’s Descent, it is made at the Root Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Elder, Lord Qi, of Heming Administration. At the Beginning of Winter, it is made at the Room Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Elder, Lord Qi, of Liyuan Administration. At Minor Snow, it is made at the Heart and Tail Lodges by the Yin Official, the Right Director and Overseer, Lord Qi, of Gengchu Administration. At Major Snow, it is made at the Winnowing Basket Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Director and Supervisor, Lord Qi; the original text is missing the name of the administration. At the Winter Solstice, it is made at the Dipper Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Overseer of Spirit, Lord Qi, of Zhendu Administration. At Minor Cold, it is made at the Ox Lodge by the Yin Official, the Left Director and Supervisor, Lord Qi, of Changli Administration. At Major Cold, it is made at the Girl Lodge by the Yin Official, the Right Adjudicator, Lord Qi, of Lutang Administration.

Since the sun and moon inspect and oversee the human world according to the solar terms, can the sun and moon be seen for a long time?

In ancient times, rulers held ceremonies in spring and autumn, worshipping the sun in the morning and the moon at dusk. Welcoming and seeing off guests, managing offerings for the sacrifices, and other duties were each entrusted to designated officials. In the Han dynasty, sacrifices were performed from afar at the Bamboo Palace, and arrangements for the rites were still in place. Later, the ceremonies gradually fell into neglect, and an attitude of reverence and care was often lacking. What can be accomplished today by simply staring with wide eyes? A faint flame will eventually go out on its own.

Spring Hunting by Fire

The account says that Cheng Sichang refrained from killing throughout his life and never casually slaughtered and cooked birds or livestock. When he was in Mizhou, he saw a group of hunters catching birds and sparrows. Some had their heads crushed and their chests pierced by hawks and falcons; others had their feet and wings broken by nets.

That night, Cheng Sichang burned incense and prayed to Heaven. He said that he intended to print and distribute a picture from his collection that urged people to refrain from killing, and to dedicate the merit of doing so to the beings he had eaten and to the karmic ties of his parents across seven generations, in the hope that local people would awaken and mend their ways. After the picture was printed, a man named Peng Jing came to ask for a copy. When his wife, Lady Hua, saw it, she flew into a rage, snatched it away, tore it to pieces, and threw it into a filthy place.

The next day, Lady Hua bought a fish and took up a knife to cut it into slices. The fish suddenly leapt up and struck her in the eye, spilling blood across the ground. Her beard even turned into worms that crawled all over her body. As people discussed what had happened, Xiang Shuhuang, the local military inspector, saw the True Lord Zhenwu appear. The deity said he had discovered that a person of good conduct was staying there: Cheng Sichang, a traveler from Xinghua Army, who had printed and distributed the picture to urge people to do good. Yet Lady Hua had dared to tear it up; her offense was grave, and she could not escape its consequences. Others who failed to follow the right path would also be punished. The True Lord said he would descend again on the twenty-seventh and see how matters stood then. In light of this, how could it be right to hunt by setting fires in spring?

It is a pity that people do not know that all living beings possess Buddha-nature. There is nothing they cannot understand if guided by reason. In the past, when Wei Nankang governed Shu, he had a very intelligent parrot. Its keeper explained Buddhist teachings to it: “If you wish to recite the Buddha’s name, cultivate from mindfulness to no-mindfulness.” The parrot raised its head and fluttered its wings, as though listening and understanding. Later, when it was asked to recite the Buddha’s name, it remained silent. Someone asked why it would not recite, and it clearly said, “Amitabha Buddha,” as if it had already grasped the teaching: mindfulness arises through causes and conditions; no-mindfulness is the true state. One day, the parrot was neither startled nor fallen. It simply folded its wings, stretched out its feet, and died quietly. When people cremated its remains, they found ten śarīra, pearl-like relics formed from the remains of Buddhist practitioners. Wei Nankang built a pagoda for its burial and called it “Parrot Pagoda.” Who can say it lacked Buddha-nature?

Li, the wife of Wei Jingyu, was widowed at twenty. Her parents urged her to remarry, but she vowed to refuse. A pair of swallows lived near her home. One day, one of them suddenly flew away alone. Moved by this, Li asked it, “Can you remain faithful to your mate as I do?” She tied a silk thread around its foot as a mark. The following year, the swallow returned, still alone. Li wrote a poem: “Last year it left alone; this spring it has returned alone. Since its devotion runs so deep, I cannot bear to make it a pair again.” Another year passed. When the swallow returned, Li had already died. Someone told the swallow that she was dead and pointed out where she was buried. The swallow flew straight to the grave and cried without stopping. It neither ate nor drank, and eventually died there. People buried it and called the place “Swallow Mound.” Who can say it did not understand the value of devotion?

The Most High warns people against hunting by setting fires and singles out the spring months because spring is when all things grow and reproduce. Setting fires and hunting then will certainly cause harm through the killing itself, while the lives destroyed by a great blaze are beyond counting. The Monthly Ordinances, a classic that records seasonal observances and ritual regulations month by month, speaks of this too. How could we fail to take it as a warning?

The hunting rites of the Zhou dynasty and the summer hunt for young crops both required that game be taken outside its breeding season. This shows how carefully birds and animals were treated during the spring hunt as well. These activities were meant to train the army, not to slaughter indiscriminately. When birds and animals are breeding, their lives are growing in accordance with nature. How could a benevolent person bear to set fire to the forests and mountains in order to hunt?

Speaking abusively toward the north

The scriptures record that before the Venerable Bakula attained the fruit of the path, he once scolded someone who ate slowly, saying he chewed grass like an ox. Later, even after attaining the fruit of arhatship, he still suffered the karmic consequence of being fed by an ox. When the Celestial Prince Shanzhu served as the vinaya officer, responsible for the affairs of the monastic community, he once called a visiting monk “blind man.” Later, after becoming a celestial prince and enjoying the full blessings of heaven, he still could not escape the karmic consequence of blindness. Clearly, abusive speech is not harmless. How much worse, then, to direct it toward the north?

The north is where the Supreme One dwells, and there is the Northern Dipper’s Pole Star. The Pole Star has five stars: the first is the Great Emperor of Heaven, and the fifth is the Great Emperor of the North Pole. The Northern Dipper has nine stars. Its seventh star, Pojun, is called the “Supreme Lord of Heaven,” and is also known as the Dao Lord of the Mysterious Yang Heavenly Gate, Yaoguang, Great Brightness, and Supreme Jade Emperor. This gives us some idea of the exalted status of the other stars as well.

According to the Jataka Sutra, the Supreme Lord Yuanshi said: If faithful men and women who believe in the Dao devote a day in spring to fasting and quieting body and mind, and perform the Jiuguang jiao—a Daoist rite in which an altar is set up to pray for blessings from the star deities—while reverently welcoming the Holy Mother of Purple Light and the Seven Primordial Lords, then sincerely offering sacrifices and prayers, even the gravest of the Ten Evil Deeds and the bitter retribution of adversaries will vanish at once, like sunlight shining on an icy mountain. Their blessings and longevity will increase; many perfected celestial beings will come to protect them; their lives in this world will be fulfilled, and their descendants will flourish. The virtue and blessings they receive will be like a spring of sweet water: whenever drawn upon, it wells up again, providing inexhaustible enjoyment. At the end of life, they can also ascend to the Great Brahma Heaven of Truth.

If this is so, how could anyone speak abusively toward the north? Have you not heard that after Liu Shi performed a jiao rite for his natal star, he was indeed pardoned and his offenses reduced? And that after Qian Lou prayed for his father, his father’s life was indeed prolonged? Have you not also heard that after Li Da served the divine powers, he had a son, Lord Wei, who became a meritorious official of the Tang dynasty? Or that Marquis Wu had a daughter who followed Miss Peng’s example in serving the divine powers and was able to ascend to heaven? These accounts are all recorded in religious texts. There are many examples; here, let us mention just one or two.

When facing north, one should respectfully regard it as one’s rear. The Pole Star in the heavens is called the Chen Star, alongside the Northern Dipper. Whether bowing down or raising one’s head, people should act with care and gravity, never casually. Guan Ning once reproached himself over a small thing that happened while he was combing his hair in the morning. Even in one’s everyday conduct, one should be so careful as if there were nowhere to settle; how much more so when speaking—how could one be careless?

Do not kill turtles without cause, and do not strike snakes.

The Commentary records that the Perfected One Who Responds to the World said: No living creature that flies or moves should be killed, and turtles and snakes in particular must not be harmed. If one kills them rashly, one may injure beings with spiritual awareness, whose Yin essence may then seize an opportunity to harm people. For this reason, those with understanding always do their utmost to rescue and protect them.

Long ago, Liu Yanhui’s father served in the staff of the governor of Huzhou. Once, returning from a silver mine, someone presented him with a large turtle, saying that whoever obtained it would live a thousand years. That very day, his father personally took the turtle back to the mine and released it. Later, after his father died, Liu Yanhui served in Fangzhou as an Assistant Director of Justice, an official responsible for local judicial affairs. One day, a mountain flood broke out without warning, and several feet of water covered the lowlands. The whole family panicked, unsure where to go. Before long, a large turtle appeared, seeming to lead the way. They followed it to more than ten places, finding shallow water at each one, and finally escaped the flood. That night, Liu Yanhui dreamed that the turtle said, “Long ago, at the silver mine, your father saved me from danger. Now I have come especially to repay him.”

When Sun the Perfected One (Sun Simiao) was alive, he once went into the mountains to cultivate the Dao. He saw villagers beating a green snake and stepped in to save it. More than a month later, as he passed that place again, he saw from afar a young man riding at a gallop to meet him and escort him home. When they arrived, he discovered that it was a prince’s residence. A man dressed in crimson came out and said in thanks, “Yesterday, my young son, foolish and immature, nearly lost his life. Fortunately, you saved him. All our relatives here are grateful, so I sent my eldest son to welcome you and offer a small token of our thanks.” Sun Simiao was then led into the inner palace. A princess came out holding a child dressed in green and bowed to thank him, urging him again and again to stay. Sun Simiao remained there for three days, enjoying rare foods and seeing precious objects of silk, pearls, and jade. He declined them all, accepting only the thirty immortal prescriptions from the Dragon Palace, bestowed by the Heavenly Emperor, and taking them back to the human world. It is said that some of the contents of today’s Prescriptions Worth a Thousand Gold Pieces came from those thirty prescriptions. If so, how could one kill turtles or strike snakes?

In praise, it is said:

The tortoise is counted among the Four numinous creatures, the four animals that the ancients believed bore auspicious signs. The snake, meanwhile, is among the first of the many creatures that hibernate to enter dormancy. Even numinous beings such as tortoises and snakes may fall into fishing nets and be caught by people. The essence of the White Emperor, a being said to have taken form from the White Emperor’s vital energy, once wept by the roadside. Who could have guessed that creatures who seem unaware might also encounter calamity by chance? If someone happens to understand this, they should rescue them from danger.

For committing such offenses, the Director of Fate (Siming), who governs people’s lifespans and destinies, reduces their allotted years according to the gravity of the offense. When their allotted years are exhausted, they die. If, after death, they still have sins left to repay, calamity will also befall their descendants.

The commentary says: Each of these offenses has already been annotated above, so they will not be discussed one by one here. The causes and consequences of birth into the seven destinies are now used to explain them, in the hope that everyone will understand. The seven destinies are the seven realms into which beings are reborn through the cycle of transmigration. Those caught in this cycle cannot attain a truly pure state; all of it is illusory. Beings continue to act according to ingrained habits such as killing, stealing, and sexual desire. A scripture says: All beings in the world pass endlessly through the succession of life and death. Birth follows the habits of the past, while death follows change and carries one onward. When a person is nearing death,