《勿斋先生文集》

The Collected Works of Master Wuzhai, written by Yang Zhizhi of the Southern Song, comprises two volumes and is included in the Zhonghua Daoist Canon. Its base text derives from the “Taiping Shao” section of the Zhengtong Daoist Canon.

The author’s title in the upper volume states that Yang Zhizhi was granted the honorific title “Worthy of High Repute,” served as Right Supervisor of Examination and Adjudication, and oversaw official religious affairs; he was a Daoist priest of Mount Hezao. The title “Thanks to Supervising Intendant Chen after the Clear-Mind Purification at the Taiyi Palace” refers to thanking Supervising Intendant Chen after conducting a Clear-Mind Purification at the Taiyi Palace. A Clear-Mind Purification is a type of Daoist purification ritual, typically involving fasting, prayer, and blessings. “Supervising Intendant” is an official title.

The clouds and mists of Maoshan’s mountain retreat stretch deep into the distance. I am merely a man who keeps to the mountains in seclusion, an axe in hand. The bamboo palace rises close to the gates of Heaven, yet suddenly I received an edict summoning me to serve at court. My name was mistakenly carried to the ears of the court’s great officials, and my qualifications have placed me ahead of many who have not yet entered office.

I privately reflected that the shrine of Taiyi, the revered celestial deity, is solemn and august; Taiyi is called a noble god. In the heavens, he corresponds to the star Shaowei, whose name is also used for a worthy recluse. During the Jianyan, Shaoxing, Qiandao, and Chunxi eras, the court often had hidden worthies like Chaofu, Xu You, and the Three Elders of Shangshan. Summoned into the palace to answer questions, they would often discuss the classics and the Dao; afterward, they were allowed to return to seclusion and were granted titles and books. In recent years, this practice has been abandoned. Nowadays, some people take back roads and scheme their way into office with ease; there are so many of them they could be measured by the cartload. If these practices were set right and the mediocre cleared away, everyone would admire Your Excellency’s firm and decisive judgment. An eloquently written edict might then summon people of truly uncommon ability.

A person like me is ordinary and unremarkable, merely keeping to myself in proud solitude. By chance, writing and reading became a habit, and my footsteps carried me across rivers and lakes. I traveled among famous mountains and great rivers, saw and heard much, and spent time with many elders. At times I built a hut and stored books there, hoping to rest beneath the trees and live out my days in seclusion. Presumptuously taking up the role of a mountain recluse, I suddenly realized that twenty years had passed. I have never entered the gate of government. Yet if I truly understand this principle, then even if the five thousand words of the Daodejing were set aside on a high shelf, the teachings of the sages would not thereby be lost.

Before long, the Son of Heaven issued an order for me to enter service and take up an office. So I came to the place where, even on quiet nights, a goosefoot lamp still burns, and brushed the dust from a seat that had lain unused for many years. Do not be like the people of Song, who put fragrant herbs and foul weeds in the same vessel: I remain a man like Cui Zi. Some may also wonder whether a tiger and a mouse can live together in one room and still advance literary culture and support moral instruction. If I can contribute a little of what I am able, I will credit the court with the achievement and repay its kindness; perhaps I may also fulfill the aspiration of a lifetime. Still, I am ashamed that my learning is shallow and that I am unfit to bear this rare favor.

This is perhaps because Your Excellency is endowed with keen intelligence and a mild, respectful nature. The classics of the sages are gathered in your breast, while graceful and subtle poems shine in brilliant compositions. Your calligraphy and painting reach the exquisite heights of Zhong Yao and Wang Xizhi, and in discussion you penetrate the hidden depths of Laozi’s thought and Buddhism. When public duties allow, you find ease and contentment among gardens and ponds; when guests visit, you speak of poetry and drink wine at leisure. When a person of outstanding talent appears, you gladly discern, select, and appoint them.

I am mindful of and deeply grateful for this kindness. In my later years, I hope to rouse myself to renewed effort, look up in prayer for the sovereign’s long life, and remain ever mindful of my respect for the Grand Commandant. I admire Zhong Fang’s devotion to the ruler and his willingness to submit memorials; like the worthy recluse of Mount Song, I too have carried memorials hidden in my sleeve into court three times, hoping for an audience in which to state my feelings. Now that I have received such exceptional favor, I hope to distinguish myself somewhat from ordinary people and, through this, make clear the court’s moral influence and Your Excellency’s discernment and employment of talent.

I was impeached for a breach of court decorum, and, having received the Chancellor’s leniency, have come to express my thanks.

I behaved improperly on the steps of the palace hall, and the censor consequently recommended that I be demoted by one rank. Fortunately, His Majesty was generous and merciful, and the Chancellor also urged a lenient measure during the court deliberations, sparing me a severe punishment. I feel both grateful and ashamed.

My abilities are dull, and despite many years of study, I have still failed to grasp the essentials. In my youth I was merely a commoner; only later, through the patronage of the scholar-officials, was I able to enter government service. I care for my children and teach them to be loyal to their sovereign, while faithfully observing the precepts my father taught me in the courtyard. In serving my ruler, even when my words may give offense, I do not conceal my honest counsel; I have always held the court in my heart with sincere devotion.

Since I was first appointed to office, I have often kept to a life of frugality. When overseeing the affairs of the Huxue academy and planning border defenses, I managed, with difficulty, to provide supplies for the troops. Later, while serving as deputy at Lanzhu and acting as prefect, I also took part in relief efforts during years of famine. In time I was repeatedly recommended and entrusted with important responsibilities by the court, and was appointed to serve in the south. In the provinces, I often looked toward the court and attended to the people’s hardships. I hoped to bring harmony to government and stability to people’s lives, and also hoped that I might write poems as a result. Fortunately, the nation’s authority helped secure a good harvest in the region, and official duties were not overly burdensome.

I had hoped to preserve my reputation with care, and I was reluctant to give up the comfort and prosperity of Chang’an. That day, while the emperor was holding court and hearing reports, I was presenting a memorial when my tablet suddenly fell to the ground, and I at once lost my courtly bearing. I had no intention of showing disrespect to my sovereign, yet it was as if something had seized me, leaving me unable to control myself. I bent to pick up the broken ivory tablet; how could I presume to compare myself with the noble integrity of those who came before me? I could only prop my cheek on my hand and gaze in thought toward the refreshing scenery of the western mountains. The shame of my breach of decorum could not be hidden after all, and by law I deserved punishment. So I returned bearing my guilt, spread out a straw mat, and awaited my sentence.

The court resolved to treat me leniently, removing me only from the official register at Yiao. Even after such a punishment, I am still allowed to remain beneath Heaven. Now, reflecting on myself, I understand where my path leads.

All this is thanks to the Chancellor. You are of one mind with the court, and support its governance through De; you possess the governing abilities of the Three Kings of antiquity. When matters arise, you remain composed and unruffled, bringing your ministers’ loyalty to fruition. Your reputation and virtue have been handed down, preserving the court’s established talent. In serving the emperor and taking part in confidential deliberations, you presented the case for leniency with tact, preserving this modest prospect of a future for me and making my punishment lighter still.

How could I fail to keep your kindness in my heart, to remain constantly on guard against repeating my mistakes, and to cultivate myself with even greater care, in the hope that all my words and conduct will accord with ritual propriety? I would gladly return my court tablet and withdraw, leaving the Chancellor in peace; yet in this enlightened age, how could I presume to let the court down? If the opportunity arises, I still hope to present my jade tablet and attend court, perhaps to meet the emperor once more.

My gratitude and thanks to the Chancellor are too great to recount in full.

I respectfully learn that the court has issued an edict in the great hall, rewarding ministers who assist the sovereign. The emperor is pleased to provide for the Empress Dowager and has further bestowed upon her the honorific title recorded in a jade investiture. With his talent for harmonizing affairs of state and supporting the court, Your Excellency has formally assumed the post of Grand Tutor, in accordance with the ceremonial precedents of the Zhou dynasty. This brings distinction to the institutions and rites, and the officials of the court join in celebration.

All this is because you are a pillar of the state, with insight as keen as divination by milfoil and tortoise shell. It is said that Heaven and Earth produce a worthy talent once every five hundred years, and you have directed the affairs of government at court for twenty years. You enthroned Emperors Zhaodi and Xuandi, bringing peace to the realm without fanfare. You subdued Huaixi and captured Wu Yuanji, then fought with vigor to recover the Central Plain. The rites of sacrifice at the southern suburb have now been established, and the Empress Dowager has received their blessings. The court has convened the scholar-officials to praise your merit, and inscribed their words of commendation on fine jade to preserve them in the records.

At dawn the emperor set out by carriage and reverently presided over the grand ceremony. A decree issued from the palace, solemnly conferring upon you the honor of Grand Tutor. Your fief has been extended into fertile lands, and the honors accorded to your rank have grown still more imposing. You take part in deliberations on the great affairs of state, and when the sovereign receives you, he need not address you by name. You will become a model worthy of remembrance in the Song dynasty: serving a wise ruler, you have also helped bring forth a worthy prime minister. Your rewards are measured against the four territories of the state of Qi, and all look to you to attain the distinction of a prince of a different surname.

I serve within the government of the state, laboring over a small county. Holding your appointment edict, I am so delighted that I can scarcely keep from dancing. I look up to the red ceremonial shoes you wear, yet have no chance to visit your residence. I am laying in fodder and grain in preparation for bandits in the Yanchi area. I have also prepared washing things, plums, and wine yeast, wishing you enduring esteem and a steadfastness like rock.

In addition, I serve as superintendent of Jingde Abbey. I write to thank Zhao Jiezai, the prefect of the capital, and also to convey my regards to a certain person.

I wish to withdraw to the mountains and forests, seek out goji trees and chrysanthemums, and ask to resign from office so I can enjoy a quiet life. I also hope to manage gardens among lakes and hills while overseeing a secluded Daoist temple (miyu). Though the authorities above intend to summon me, I fear that the worthies of old would have doubted my conduct, as they did when they once visited a virtuous recluse.

I privately believe that a landscape grows more renowned through the character and reputation of those associated with it. He Zhizhang was learned, and so took special delight in the misty waves of Mirror Lake. Qinglao excelled at poetry, and so was enshrined in a temple in Jinling. As for someone who knows only eating and drinking and has no particular accomplishment, coming to a Daoist temple would only add to the shame of its refectory bells and bowls of porridge.

I know that I retain a little of the bookish eccentricity, and that my old ardor has not yet faded. In old age, a single mountain valley would be enough for me to settle in; yet now I have returned to my former Ten Retreats. Alas, I have neither the skill to pacify bandits in Mount Songgao nor the power to attend court in a rain cape and use divine arts to make my words heard by Heaven. How could I presume to build a palace or temple? My few written words have been sent to court time and again, yet my dwelling remains as dilapidated as a post station, its rooms crumbling.

You are pure of heart and benevolent, and have taken pity on me, a sojourner. Officials also say that there is a shortage of suitable people to honor for their virtue. Thus, edicts and documents were issued with great ceremony, along with gifts of silk and grain, and I was appointed registrar. Some have argued that a worthy such as I should dwell beneath lofty trees, or even be taken as a disciple by the Son of Heaven. Why, then, should I cast aside my horse and belongings like a child?

Tao Hongjing lived in seclusion in the mountains and built three separate lodges. Shao Yong lived in Luoyang and established ten “travelling nests”—places for recreation and teaching—so his students would have somewhere to turn, and local elders could visit often and speak with him in close fellowship. As for the immortals who appeared as white cranes while roaming Mount Linwu, or flew over Lake Dongting with a green snake hidden in their sleeves, they should not all be restrained and dismissed as mere players. Building a lodge for Jiezha and taking a trip there would be perfectly fitting; so, too, would be walking alone along the long embankment.

You cut a dignified figure, an outstanding member of the Han imperial clan, with the abilities of a Governor of the Capital District. In great affairs, your writing assists the government and makes up for its shortcomings; in small matters, you see to firewood and rice, benefiting the people of the capital. At times you lead a small party on an excursion into the countryside, arriving just as the spring sun rises beyond Xinting. You ask where the Slope Immortal (Su Shi) is now, then arrange for Jingbai to meet with him in one hall, and summon Miming as well, so that the two lords, Hou and Liu, may both receive your care. Decisions about mountain affairs do not change in response to requests for favors, and the court has specially permitted them to come and go.

How could I fail to do my utmost to sing of plum blossoms and plant more willows? Let water surround the place for dozens of miles, and let its elegant scenery wash the dust of worldly life from visitors. Three hundred years from now, someone who comes here may add this place to a new Illustrated Gazetteer of the Capital, the Huangtu.

I am honored that Commissioner Jiang Guxin has invited me from afar to serve as abbot of Yulong Palace, a Daoist temple.

I once composed in response to the court’s ceremonial occasions, and was also ordered to oversee the affairs of talismanic mandates among the various states. This allowed me to bask in the splendor of the imperial procession and lead the people beneath its magnificent canopies. Now you have graciously praised me in your letter, and given me the chance to lend distinction to this place of ritual retreat. Among the famous mountains and sacred sites of the Daoist tradition, none is more fitting than the former residence of Perfected Xu of Jingyang. This is a gathering place for Daoists, and its leader ought to be someone suited to the task.

Some people pass through here and grow covetous. They spend money hiring others to plead their case everywhere, then reach out to seize the temple’s property. Who, then, would care for the possessions of those who dwell here permanently? Such people demean themselves, and our Daoist tradition has nearly fallen into decline. As for me, I have drifted through the world, dull of mind as wood or stone. Though I could not gather medicinal fungi and live in seclusion like the Four Elders of Shangshan, I did once guard the cypresses at the temple of Perfected Xu.

When the Marshal deigned to visit, I was able to spend time with my colleagues. We spoke freely, without the formality of host and guest, and came to know one another in the mountains. I often dreamed of the scenes around Tianbao and Cuiyan. I once even placed my head in the hands of the authorities, mistakenly accompanying the Marshal to sacrifices like those at Ganquan Palace and the Great Altar. Later, I offered a poem at an internal Daoist ritual, received your favor and a generous writing fee, and was further instructed by you to stay rather than take my leave. I look up to your retinue as I would to Governor Yan’s, ashamed that we were once strangers to each other. Now you have welcomed me with a couch, like Xu Ruzi receiving a worthy guest, and this wonderful news has suddenly arrived.

Bear’s paw and fish are both things one might desire, but they are hard to have together. The apes and cranes, I imagine, will be startled and resentful that I am leaving the mountains. Your reputation hangs high like the sun and moon, and your authority is stern as wind and frost. You sought out the former residence of Ouyang Xiu, the “Old Man of Six Ones,” at Longgang, and your administrative achievements rank among the foremost in the region. You also founded a school at Luzhou, cultivating talent. Later, you rose through repeated promotions, wearing a green silk cord and jade tally, while overseeing splendid places of painted beams and red curtains. You unfolded a map and asked about local customs, as though truly intending to ascend to immortality with your whole household.

I have heard that this sacred place has long lacked someone to lead its practice. I have watched the crows scramble for mice for some time; who could stand proudly among the chickens like a solitary crane and meet everyone’s expectations? Floating Hill Master is to the left, and Master Hongya to the right. There are many tales of these immortals, but seeing them in person would be better. I asked widely about this matter, from the nearby Huangfu Mi to the distant Bai Juyi. Of three divinations, two were favorable, so I followed the majority.

What virtue do I possess that I should receive this invitation without seeking it? My standing is no match for the recluses of Mount Shaoshi, and my circumstances make it hard to leave Chang’an. I can only set aside my own affairs and labor in the service of the temple. I think again and again of my promise to follow you in the future, and of gathering persimmons and chestnuts when the autumn frosts come. I can only sing of last night’s dream of my mother, while I have yet to return before the sun sets on my later years. Still, there is time for me to bear fruit like the peach and plum.

Because I longed to return home, I was granted leave and temporarily withdrew from court to guide others in cultivating the Dao. Yet I was again summoned by the Star Terrace—the Daoist temple or associated office—and I am deeply ashamed. The appointed term had just ended, and I had fallen ill in bed, so I submitted a memorial asking permission to live in retirement. The Emperor’s decree has not yet granted it. How, then, could I accept your invitation?

I think of Yulong, the blessed Daoist sanctuary you invited me to join, where a place has stood vacant for some time. Perhaps the spirit of the Transcendent Lord is in Heaven, and that is why the seal has yet to be bestowed. I know that you hold high office and see clearly as the sun does; you would not hastily lower yourself to appoint someone. You have also put an end to suspicion and rivalry and are widely seeking worthy talent. Waiting for a worthy one to appear, like a qilin, must meet the hopes of the people and surely takes careful searching. I am weary of roaming the rivers and lakes and have long known contentment; I wish only to wither away along with the plants and trees. Three years after leaving court, I mistakenly received the honor of being summoned; after ten years living in the mountains, I can only laugh at how clumsy my plans were. Waiting for a worthy one to appear, like a qilin, must meet the hopes of the people and surely takes careful searching. I am weary of roaming the rivers and lakes and have long known contentment; I wish only to wither away along with the plants and trees. Three years after leaving court, I mistakenly received the honor of being summoned; after ten years living in the mountains, I can only laugh at how clumsy my plans were.

My nature is upright, and I hate evil; I wish only to wash my hands and serve the public. Though my purse is not full, quite a few people still come and go at my door. Perhaps your earlier messenger trusted what he had heard; what ability of mine has now caught your eye? You sent word by relay station, conveying the delight of a military commander in inviting me to his door. You even escorted me to the ferry crossing and urged me warmly to take up the post. But my name is still entered in the Emperor’s register, and I fear I cannot also serve in your administration. I have declined summonses twice; I am no reclusive hermit of Mount Shaoshi. Though you have kept a place vacant for me, surely another distinguished man of the Southern Province is to be found. I hope you will choose someone truly suited to the position, so that local governance may take on a new spirit.

You have honored me as a leading scholar among the Confucians and judged me fit to serve as a minister. You ought to ride out to inspect the people’s circumstances and promptly raise your banners to take up the work of governing them. Once your orders are issued, the examination grounds, ringed by thorn fences, will fall silent, and candidates will no longer swarm like ants. By personally touching the Iron Pillar, you can achieve great merit in removing harm and bringing peace to the people. Looking from afar at the dense, shadowy cypress trees by the well, I cannot help lamenting how lonely and neglected the fragrant flowers seem. Who will take charge of this matter? The people of the land must be asked. You set aside the dignity represented by the tiger tally and dragon credential, and instead receive me with the courtesy due to one wearing a crane-feather cloak and deer-horn headdress.

My lot is poor and my blessings few; I have failed to respond to your generous kindness. My black hat hangs low like a cloud, keeping me from visiting the former haunts of Hongya, the immortal of Daoist legend. With the red curtains rolled up against the rain, I can still follow you on an excursion to Tengwang Pavilion. If you leave soon, I will step aside and wait quietly for news.

Thanks to Prefect Pan of the Ministry of Revenue for Reducing the Grain Levy

I came to the prefectural office with the sash of my black Daoist robe tied around me to pay you a visit. I had never dared hope for a kindness like the medicine bestowed by an immortal. Now you have sent white rice to the government granary and specifically lightened the burden of grain levied by acreage. You have made proper arrangements for the mountain dwelling, like a blessed land or grotto-heaven, so that the bell of the meditation hall and the drum of the dining hall may sound in turn. I will remember this gift of a single meal. May you and the mountain’s Daoist altar enjoy long lives.

I once examined the registers recording the division and allotment of fields on Mount Hezao, a famous Daoist mountain, and found that the field boundaries had been wrongly set when the boundary-survey system was put into effect during the Shaoxing era. Land to the south was called yang, and land to the north yin; all the fertile fields fell into the hands of wealthy households. High ground feared no drought, and low ground no floods, yet in years of good harvest ordinary families could barely make ends meet. Later, the temple records dwindled, while the number of people coming to seek food steadily grew. The court had only just issued an order to store grain when officials rushed to wield their harsh and exacting powers. They defied the edicts of emperors past, refusing to reduce or remit taxes, then spread the burden evenly among the people of three counties. They stripped people of their wealth as if cutting flesh, yet selected grain as if picking pearls. How could we bear to let villagers cry out in grievance? And how could we ignore those going hungry in the mountains and forests?

I hold office, undeservedly, in the territory under my jurisdiction, and ought to find a way to transport grain there. Hearing the people cry out for food has weighed heavily on me. With no ghost soldiers to carry grain for me, I have truly feared that the county magistrate would be driven to ruin. I had hoped the children would sweep the roads to welcome you, as people once welcomed “Lord Fine” Yang Xu, the Eastern Han official famed for his integrity. Fortunately, you had already ridden in on your purple horse and arranged a place to stay. Now that I see you, an elder, entering the city, I have come on my blue mule to offer, boldly, a modest opinion: I gladly ask that the grain quota be reduced by three tenths.

You sent an order to the granary, much as Lu Su once pointed to a granary and told people to take grain. Your kindness has reached the mountain Daoists; there is no need to raise funds by writing a separate appeal, as Yan Zhenqing once did. The authority in your hands is limited, but the effects of this good intention will reach far.

All this is thanks to your exceptional talent and distinguished reputation. When you first entered office, you traveled by boat through the Qutang Gorge; for the next ten years, you served in the robes of a court official. At ease in a residence like the Crystal Palace, you never wrote to the Gate of Guangfan to seek a path to advancement, but simply acted in keeping with the times. Now you have been sent far away to serve at Xiao Islet, bearing an official seal like the imperial tally of the Han dynasty. You say you are nearly fifty and will stay here for the time being. Yet this prefecture levies one hundred thousand shi of grain each year, almost twice as much as other prefectures. If we push the people into ditches like infants, how can we make up for the failings of those who came before? Since famous mountains within the prefecture are offered sacrifices, we should all the more seek to bring the people peace. When attracting migrants and filling vacant places, we must make proper arrangements and show that the government is willing to take on the burden tactfully and pay the levies on their behalf.

How could I fail to wield the authority in my hands with care, while still hoping for good news to bloom like a flower in a lamp? My meals are plain, and I am as thin as Du Fu; wearing a bamboo hat, I already feel the pity due to Du Fu in his poverty. Even in spring, ingredients for wine are scarce. Lying in the tower, I think all the more of the immortal Hongya. I ought not to forget that I am in Chen, yet I greedily long for Shu.

I thank Magistrate Wang of Jurong County in verse and prose for sentencing the men who stole and felled the cypress trees.

There are more than a thousand great trees in the mountains, where cutting firewood has long been strictly forbidden. Yet even with the palace walls rising high, thieves still broke in. The axe marks on the trees were almost like the traces left when Qianling was plundered, and the county authorities were drawn into the affair. The magistrate punished the offenders severely and showed no leniency, yet his kindness was truly profound.

I have heard that the Queen Mother’s immortal peaches were once plucked and eaten by children, and that when Lord Dong’s apricots ripened, tigers came to nibble at them. Rare treasures of the immortals are not easily stolen; even ordinary property cannot always be kept from being seized, let alone the legendary raftwood from the sea or the cassia tree in the moon, both of which have been boarded or felled. Officials once removed the willows west of Wuchang Gate, and children once carried off the thatch from the roof of a house in Duling. Who is without the six faculties of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind? Heaven, too, is said to have five thieves: five forces that harm body and mind.

I am truly inept at managing complicated affairs, but I tended these cypresses, kudzu, and firs with my own hands. The immortal fruits known as pear of the immortals and fire jujube had long been cultivated within my heart. I came from the Three Mao Perfected Lords of Mount Juqu, intending to plant a thousand trees at the Abbey of Mysterious Capital. By moonlight, with cranes for company, I chanted of the pines on the mountain peak. The mountain stream murmured without a soul nearby, and then, all at once, the cypress before my courtyard was stolen. Though it could not shelter us from rain as a legendary tree forty armspans around might, I had hoped it would grow for many years. Who could have imagined that these rat-like scoundrels would prey on us, bringing trouble upon the Daoist priests?

Careless safekeeping invites thieves. Though the cave gate was locked, we still sent the thieves to the authorities, and the magistrate promptly took them into custody. In questioning them, he did not heed only one side of the story but investigated carefully. The cypress had not been cut into firewood; only half remained, like the elk that once survived by chance beside the moat. The magistrate’s lenient handling spared the neighbors needless alarm, while he also punished the thieves in accordance with their offense and gave them their due. The mountain bandits trembled by the roadside, and the tree spirits south of the city rejoiced that the trees had been saved. Had this wise magistrate not pitied the sound of axes striking trees, the villains would surely have come to fell them every day.

The magistrate’s name is entered among the immortals, and his home lies near the grove of Zhan—perhaps a Buddhist temple, perhaps a quiet wood. His ancestors possessed the virtue of the Three Locust Trees; his aspirations were like a great beam capable of supporting the state, while his heart was as detached as Tao Yuanming’s. He tried governing the county as one nurtures the people by planting flowers. He cherished the young saplings, fearing the forests would be stripped bare, and dealt with the rat-like thieves who broke through walls as nimbly as a rooster pecking at beans. Whether or not someone once ascended to immortality from the top of a cypress, this deed alone is enough to win the affection of the people in his district.

By guarding the trees, I have learned that my earlier handling of the matter was mistaken; now, having received his kindness, I feel ashamed. I only wish to see the affair settled completely, yet fear that the punishment may be too severe. I have heard that one man summoned the ringleaders of thieves and shouted for the constables, displaying his authority in governing the county; another emulated the recluse who flogged the Qiang and still summoned the courage of Mount Songgao. In the end, the essential thing is to restrain oneself; there is no need to say more.

The camphor tree atop the grave has grown so large that two people could barely encircle its trunk. The descendants, mindful of their ancestors, stand in solemn reverence, as though facing frost and dew. When woodcutters passed the cemetery, the county magistrate rescinded the order to fell the tree and removed the threat of its being destroyed by axe and saw. The whole clan was moved to tears, and passersby sighed at the sight.

It is said that a county magistrate takes pride in nurturing “peach and plum trees”—a metaphor for educating the people and cultivating talent. Who has no forebears buried beneath the Yellow Springs? How, then, could anyone fail to protect with care the pines, cypresses, and catalpas beside their graves? For this reason, the law forbids cutting trees in cemeteries, while ritual propriety warns against casually digging up burial mounds.

Our clan is small in number and lives beside our ancestral graves. In every generation, we have tended and swept the tombs, dressing according to rank, as custom has passed down through the ages. The camphor by the river has luxuriant branches and leaves, its crown spread like a carriage canopy, its trunk ten armspans around. A geomancer said its shade would benefit the family, and the younger generations hoped to earn distinction in the examinations.

Unfortunately, a foolish younger brother, consumed by gambling and greed, brought in rapacious brokers and sought to present the tree to the authorities. The man who sold it is long gone, leaving behind only an old deed from twenty-seven years ago. The other party appeared and vanished like a spirit, yet demanded more than ten thousand copper coins. What is hardest to bear is that people exploited the sale of the tree, manipulating documents and scheming for profit, until we were forced to pay to buy back our old camphor.

A pine was brought back to life by a touch of cinnabar, even though, as legend has it, Immortal Lü once passed by carrying a basket of ink. A lychee tree, though saved by an old woman’s care, still bears the traces of blades from Huang Chao’s rebellion. Now we are fortunate to have a county magistrate of remarkable bearing and firm resolve. The county offices need timber for their beams, and even remote districts seek capable people. But if one only gathers firewood and cooks for oneself, without engaging with the people, how could they be seen—even if a great wind were to break down the heavy gates? So the magistrate sought a massive jia tree and raised a lofty gate tower, presenting a transformed sight for all to behold. How could he begrudge the expense of a thousand gold coins?

An altar can be set beside the wall of our pavilion, and the spirit of the benevolent governance left by Huang Ba, famed for his good administration, will surely not be overlooked. A magistrate who can even deal with the threat of tigers will never become a cruel official like Mount Tai. The peach tree still stands, uncut; the osmanthus was once struck by an axe, yet no scar remains. Without the intervention of the official in charge, who could have granted us such protection?

I rest in my dreams like a trailing vine, and, like the looping kudzu, understand the way of gratitude. We remember how the Duke of Shao governed beneath the shade of the sweet pear tree and won renown for his love of the people. How could we forget the injunction, “Do not cut it down”? We also hope to paint the image of a Daoist beneath the withered tree, so that it may put down deep roots, spread luxuriant leaves, and endure for a long time.

I have received the commandery governor’s generous favor and have been supported in your household. Now I wish to resign and return to a life of seclusion, but it is already too late. Thanks to your recommendation, I have been appointed to preside and lead the community. How could I possibly bear such a heavy responsibility? Holding the commandery’s documents in my hands, I see that the matter is gradually settled, and can only come to the steps of the government office to offer my thanks.

I have heard that famous people add renown to mountains and rivers, and that bells and drums flourish or decline with the times. The altars established by the Perfected Ones Zhang and Ge are celebrated throughout the realm as blessed places. The Daoists Chen and Huang each presided over the affairs of the Dao in their turn; both were worthy and capable, and arranged matters inside and out with care. But conditions in recent times are very different from before. Stubborn and violent ways have spread everywhere, while the quiet spirit of Wuwei (non-action) has nearly vanished. This autumn, the fields have yielded no grain, and even the pot for steaming rice has gathered dust. The Daoist community has assembled like clouds, all waiting with open mouths for food. Though the fields have at last received rain, the farmers still need borrowed grain to keep cultivating them. Not even half the seed-tax has been paid, yet the county has already begun collecting tax grain in advance. Backlogged affairs pile up like mountains, and longstanding problems have taken deep root. Someone who understands both inner and outer affairs must be appointed to handle matters that have become difficult for people at every level.

My abilities are limited, and my learning ordinary. In my youth I traveled far and wide to make a living, and by chance accompanied several elders on their journeys. Leaning on a staff, I explored the grottoes of Guilin; by boat, I read the inscriptions at Wushui. In the eighth month I often leaned from a tower to watch the river tides, and at the third watch of the night I once drafted reports on enemy movements in Huainan. I visited the shrine at Hailing, and in a drunken excursion went to Li Bai’s tomb at Caishi Rock. Riding a donkey, I sought out Old Zhao; summoning cranes, I paid my respects at Xishan. I followed the clear, rising waters up to Yugu Terrace, then climbed Mount Chicheng to gaze toward Mount Tongbai. I also sailed on Lake Jian to admire the moon, and drank wine and composed poems beside the winding stream. Looking back over my life, my footsteps have carried me almost everywhere under heaven. Later I returned to my hometown and lived in seclusion. My dwelling had only just been built among the clouds. I filled its shelves with official books, and planted the immortal herbs used for refining elixirs beside the wall. I had been content to spend the rest of my life there, with no other ambitions.

I know that immortal palaces such as the Gui Pavilion and the Bamboo Palace are held in higher esteem than the halls of the capital, and that stone altars and flower gardens are scattered among the homes of the wealthy. But immortals in heaven are not ignorant, so why should ordinary people in this world insist on becoming immortals? Others prize rank and office; I prize the Dao. While everyone else is intoxicated, I alone remain clear-headed. I never expected that a slip of paper would draw my name, or that the government would endorse it in its documents and entrust me with the affairs of my hometown. Though I am indeed tempted by my superior’s favor, I have also broken my vow not to enter public service. As soon as I chose a date to begin the appointment, I found myself repeatedly pressing a hand to my chest, troubled and uneasy. My learning is not yet sufficient: how can I help guide customs and teach the people? My abilities are not quick enough, and I fear I will mishandle both public and private affairs. This would not only shame my secluded aspiration to worship among the chrysanthemums, but also tarnish your reputation for nurturing talent.

All this has come about because I am fortunate to serve under you, whose renown is illustrious and whose place in the court is high. When you served as assistant prefect of Tanjin, your authority was enough to cow the foxes and hares of the countryside. When you governed Xiaozhu, your Virtue moved even pigs and fish. Now the misdeeds of corrupt petty officials have just been exposed, and a drought has struck as well, bringing hardship to the people. You care for them as for your own children, transporting grain by river to relieve their hunger. You also personally gave alms and loans, enabling the people of Qingzhou to survive; this calls to mind the good works of Fu Bi. You honor the worthy and humble yourself before them, inviting the poor and lowly to serve. You have the generous spirit of the Duke of Zhou, who spat out his food and held his hair as he hurried to welcome visiting scholars. Thus even I, a recluse from the mountains and forests, have been counted among those whose names belong in the rites of sacrifice—like a black robe or white crane accidentally stained with ink and mistaken for a fly.

How could I fail to rely on the teachings of the scriptures and wash away my secluded habits among the mountain springs and rocks? I only hope I can remain quiet and self-possessed, so that the people will become upright and good. I also hope that the elderly will be at ease and the young cared for, and that the people will be prosperous, long-lived, and blessed with many descendants. May I offer you the same blessings that the man of Huafeng once wished for Emperor Yao. May government and instruction proceed in harmony, and may the people live and work in peace, following the example of the officials of Yizhou who composed the “Song of Joyful Service” in praise of Duke Xiang. I fear only that you will soon be summoned back to court and take your place among its illustrious, star-like officials. Then I will lose the protection of you, my benefactor. I cannot fully express all that I owe you.

A messenger wearing a black crane-feather cloak, the outer garment Daoist priests often wear, had just inspected the carriage used by an official when a letter written on fine silk suddenly arrived at my mountain dwelling. The paper was filled with elegant writing, and the letter came with generous gifts. I read it again and again without tiring; my gratitude and admiration grew as I took in every line.

I have often heard that the lofty-minded do not serve princes, while immortals sometimes appear in the human world. Chen Tuan lived in seclusion on Mount Hua, yet distinguished guests came to seek him out; Lü Dongbin appeared at Yueyang, but people of that time failed to recognize him. As for living in the mountains while answering the demands of the world, or leaving the city walls to meet other people, once so much of one’s life has been left behind, how can an encounter restore things to how they were before?

Recently, you, a distinguished local official, honored me by arriving in your carriage, and I went to greet you before it. I am no Daoist priest—how could I set aside the custom of welcoming an honored guest beyond the city? You deigned to visit my humble home, allowing me to behold your upright bearing, as imposing as a mountain. My little poem was as clumsy as an earthworm burrowing underground, and its sound as feeble as a fly’s buzzing. In my dreams of homecoming, I sleep soundly like a deer and roost suspended like a pheasant.

I never expected you to take the trouble to send me a letter and show me such kindness. In it, you praised the Heart Sutra and wrote an admonition urging people to guard their thoughts carefully at night. I believe our interests and inclinations are well matched, like people of the western mountains who share the same affinity. You take up your brush and write with such force; how could I think as deeply and write as learnedly as Yang Xiong?

The banana-fiber cloth you sent is so light and soft that it surpasses silk as fine as five-zhu coins, and a pot is filled with fragrant wine brewed from osmanthus blossoms. You are a prefectural inspector, yet you send gifts; even passersby are astonished when they see them.

I am a weary wanderer of rivers and lakes, for now making my home amid mountains and streams. Fortunately, I have found shelter here with the Liu family, though I do not know who spoke well of me to you. Which court scholar would feel longing for a recluse dressed in feathered robes? And would the woodcutter on the road truly put on straw sandals and come visiting in his spare time? I only await your passing on an inspection tour, hoping we can talk to our hearts’ content. The “scholar” and “straw sandals” in your letter speak precisely to these things.

The magistrate of Yintu gives special attention to the famous mountains within his jurisdiction. With bamboo horses, people welcome the new arrival: a solitary crane descended from the clouds. They repair the roads and formally await an official like Zhu Maichen; they stand guard at the pass, respectfully awaiting a figure like Yin Xi. All rush forward to greet him, offering the new prefect their congratulations according to ritual.

They admire a man whose fame has traveled far and whose learning reaches from humanity to Heaven. His family has been distinguished for generations: his grandfather served at court, holding the tablet of office, and his father wore official robes. For several generations, their names have been inscribed on the Wild Goose Pagoda. He himself ranks among the ministers, distinguished in his age for his talent and learning. The emperor praised him for carrying on his ancestors’ virtue and appointed him a Erudite. He once took part in compiling works at the You Office and in reviewing and selecting officials at the Selection Bureau. Later, true to his plain nature, he left court and returned home; then he was commissioned, bearing a tally, to govern a region. On his journey to take up office, though famed for returning in glory like one clothed in embroidered silk, he met the calamity of a sunken boat. He set sail at dawn just as the waters of Xiao Shoal were rising.

He is still young, and had no gray hair when he served as a local official; yet he has personally inherited the exemplary traditions of the two Liu elders and the three Kong elders. Surely he can bring peace to local government, and before long poems will celebrate his rule of balance and harmony. Yet he also keeps the people’s hardship in mind. Last year’s harvest was recorded as abundant, but taxes were still assessed according to the highest grade of fields and the number of seedlings, nearly exhausting the rice in the southern paddies. The people point toward the clear river to ask for paper and similar goods, and search the fragrant islet for du ruo. Old and new bonds alike have lost their value, while the reserves of both government and people are depleted. Without someone powerful enough to summon thunder and command lightning, how can a means be found to save the state and aid its people? May he wield his pair of mighty, brushlike hands and first transform local customs. His reputation is already close to the Son of Heaven; the court should promptly recommend him to the high ministers.

I left the Confucian path in childhood, and later I was not diligent enough in seeking the Dao. I never mastered the cauldron arts of the Nine-Turn Golden Elixir, yet rashly entered the halls of my elders. I once drafted proclamations in a military headquarters, and once answered the emperor’s summons at the Golden Gate, writing by the light of a lamp fueled with a goosefoot plant. Now, fortunate to be able to request retirement and live in leisure, I ought to shut my gate and rest. Yet at the urging of people in my native place, I have repeatedly taken up a leadership post. Seeing outsiders bully our community while strife rises within it, how could I stand by? Why should I cling to my headcloth? Had you not earnestly urged me to stay, I could have left. When some drew their bows against one another, the young followed, joining in mutual attacks.

I hope for your arrival with its ceremonial procession, trusting that your discernment, like a balanced mirror, will distinguish right from wrong. I go to Yueyang to pay my respects to Zijing, not to show off the medicine in my gourd. As when Wei Yingwu met with me at Quanjiao, I only hope to gather some firewood from the ravine below. I am willing to assist you and shoulder arduous duties; the accounts that could be written, carved, and circulated would be too many to recount.

I have heard of your reputation for a long time and was preparing to visit you at the Frost Terrace, the censorial office. When I heard that you had arrived in Quanjiao, I was reminded of Yingwu’s story and hoped to win your welcome and esteem, as one might gather firewood from the bottom of a ravine. You bear the duties of both patronage and supervision, and the work of editing and printing has no end.

I have heard of your reputation for a long time and was preparing to visit you at the Frost Terrace. Later, I heard that the recluse’s dwelling was empty, and felt ashamed that I was in the mountains and had failed to pay my respects. So I hurriedly prepared a modest gift and presumed to present it to you.

I have heard that gentlemen and petty men may sometimes stand side by side like oxen and swift steeds, and that dragons and snakes may emerge from deep mountains and great marshes. The innate qualities of the myriad things vary greatly in rank; could the books and records, then, have nothing worth taking from them? Even the worthy Tantai Mieming refused to go to the door of Mi Zixian, while Zilu, devoted to learning, once studied at Confucius’s school. Your carriage has come to the mountains and ponds, making even the plants and trees seem more splendid. Immortals are not far away: one need only break free of the golden lock to draw near. I have seen carriages and horses, yet that does not mean I must truly hide myself deep among the reeds.

Afraid of seeming too eager before others, I joked about the mad behavior of knocking and pushing at the door and barging into the presence of Yin. Even if the calling card I offer seems presumptuous, I still have something to say. Then I suddenly saw you deciding cases and distinguishing right from wrong with such imposing authority that the religious order seemed almost insignificant. Disputes over birds pecking at horns and mice gnawing their teeth would have wearied even the Duke of Shao as he heard cases; as for strange figures with dragon heads and pig bellies, Mi Ming would have found no shortage of material for verse. I am ashamed of my own muddleheaded ignorance, yet I cannot help feeling that you intended to summon me here.

With respect, you are a master of Confucian learning, widely read and endowed with the talent to assist a ruler. You carry on the renown of a Tang-dynasty family of ministers and possess the ability of an outstanding figure from the Han. Now that you hold a high post at Pengshan, the prestigious Secretariat, you are naturally suited to direct the solemn affairs of the Censorate. By imperial command, you have gone on inspection to a vast prefecture; you have also opened the granaries to save the starving. Clad in embroidered robes, you inspect the region, yet in your leisure you can travel at ease. Like a bird that chooses its perch before settling, you have been perfectly placed in office. You have overturned unjust convictions and brought buried grievances to light; by imperial decree, you have also personally reviewed the prisoners held during the summer, setting out early to investigate far and wide. The two envoys shone like stars as they went in person to Baodian. Rain fell abundantly in Wuyuan, as though one could reach out and draw water down from the Milky Way. You need not pass again through perilous waters like the Huangkong Rapids; you should go straight to court and serve the Son of Heaven.

I have never been skilled at looking after myself, and have earned no reputation for moral principle or learning. I have traveled in all directions to earn my food, but have never stooped to petty, grasping conduct. Now that I have withdrawn to the valleys, I fear I must still endure the cries of cranes and apes lamenting my departure. I am sorting through old books and rubbing the alchemical stove. I shut fast my brushwood gate and turn away worldly visitors, keeping company with rough earthenware vessels and those who labor in the fields. Hearing that you would be traveling on an inspection tour, I did not dare drag my robe to your door and beg an audience.

The praise and blame of the Spring and Autumn Annals may perhaps extend to people of my sort. If I could receive your forbearance, who could be the first to benefit from your care? “Unlike the plans of the other three, I am different,” said Dian, when Confucius asked about his aspirations. If I were fortunate enough to receive your special attention, I would gladly offer my shallow views on both sides of the matter; I only fear that I, too, may be counted among those of the same kind. Making light of a guest’s embarrassment is not something I enjoy arguing about.

The ceremonial escort of the grain transport commissioner from Yuezhou was resplendent, as he prepared to move provisions on a grand scale. Yet the gentleman could not even eat his fill, having only just moved to the Jade Maiden’s Kitchen, a place for offering or overseeing food. I have heard that governing a state begins with putting one’s household in order. If one can truly do that, surely one is fit to serve alongside those who passed the examinations in the same year. Now, as a guest, I write this letter to poke fun at myself. Does that mean I enjoy arguing?

I never had the two qing of fields that the Guo family possessed, nor could I make peace with living in a poor lane and eating only a basketful of rice each day. So I left my home and traveled a thousand li; later, I depended on the support of regional lords. Dongfang Shuo once waited outside the palace gate for a meal, while Du Fu remained gaunt in the mountains. I have long known the bitterness of leftover wine and cold food, and have resolved to return home, where I can eat early-season chives and wild greens gathered at dusk.

You were transferred from the court to a regional post; I, a guest, was sent away and then returned. Drumming as fresh meat is prepared might make people marvel at one’s good fortune. But those waiting with open mouths for a meal—how could they know that noon had passed and they still had not eaten? Letting the people see such a scene makes the government’s orders seem unduly harsh. If someone is made to suffer over a single meal, which matters more in the rites: the meal or the person?

Even a bundle of bamboo as thick as a man’s embrace can hold a few ladles. Yet how could I bear to hear thunder rumble in the heavens, while I can only laugh bitterly at the sun hanging high over the earth? If I do not rise to take a minor post, who will feel pity for this fallen prince? A bowl of bean broth is enough to keep me alive; plain food is easy to swallow. If you think of the impoverished guest at the eastern gate and feel that proper courtesies have been neglected, simply remind the kitchen staff to prepare the food with care. Who could have expected the punishment to fall on the sedan bearers and servants? They may say that one need not spare the jade when beating a rat, but striking a duck by mistake and alarming everyone could hardly be worse.

Rong Gong was not served wine, yet he did not take offense, for the host still knew how to distinguish between close and distant relations. When the sweet wine was forgotten, Mu Sheng left at once; one should be clear about when to stay and when to go. If I cling to a single bowl of rice, I will only invite the rebuke in the “Cutting Sandalwood” poem against those who eat without working.

Respectfully, you are gifted by nature and have inherited the bearing of your ancestors. Though you enjoy fine food, you always share both hardship and comfort with everyone. You once rewarded an army of a million men, and you also went to Lianshui. You supported three thousand retainers, with a generosity rivaling Lord Chunshen. If you occasionally forgot that someone was hungry, it was not because you were unwilling to share your food. Your indirect way of disciplining me was also meant to make distinctions of rank clear. Why trouble others over such small matters, when there is no shortage of outstanding people willing to serve you?

Let me take my leave now; I hope you will grant me permission to return home. I will wake from the dream of yellow millet and stop speaking of the riches of the Handan dream. I will nourish myself with green essence rice, a Daoist fasting food often made from plants, and travel elsewhere in the regions of Liang and Song. I have prepared my calling card and placed it in the courtyard; I am packing my things and asking the way home.

On the night of the Taiyi Lantern Festival, I was fortunate enough to accompany several esteemed elders. With Su Causeway close at hand, I went to visit three worthy men. When we met, I offered them the humble comforts of my temporary lodging. Some might scoff at how secluded and quiet this place is. I am now packing my things, ready to ask the way and set out.

On the night of the Taiyi Lantern Festival, I was fortunate enough to accompany several esteemed elders. Near Su Causeway, I went to visit three worthy men. I was glad to gather with you all and, for the time being, make this place a traveler’s lodging; some might scoff at its quiet remoteness.

Your magical arts are so accomplished that they rival those of a fierce general from the Jin dynasty, while your poetic gifts carry forward the elegance of the Tang. At midnight you can summon Teng Liu, the legendary snow deity, and you honor me with your favor, holding Yu Yi, the Daoist solar deity, whose radiance illumines the sun. You are not only skilled in the documents used for prayer and sacrifice, but also deeply versed in the mysteries of cultivation. We were about to continue exchanging poems and sharing our delight, when I remembered that every gathering has its time to part. You gave me a magnificent poem and many gifts. My lodging is cramped as a rabbit’s burrow; when I return at dusk, I must even take shelter in a swallow’s nest. If I could summon a perfected immortal to visit me in a boat made of lotus leaves, surely it could be done. And if you continue the recluse’s verses on plum blossoms, you will surely surpass me. I will keep this kindness in my heart; only by thanking you in person can I express it fully.

Respectfully submitted by Jianyi of the Right Street to Xie Tiju.

After returning to my quiet quarters, I simply carried on as before. Once the rites were complete, I offered my thanks at the palace, and then I was appointed to the post of Chujie. I know that rank and authority cannot be handed out carelessly, but what do wealth and honor mean to me? Since I was not permitted to decline the imperial decree, I feel deeply ashamed.

I know that I have little ability, though I do possess some integrity. By keeping my mind pure and living apart, I have made it hard to draw near to teachers and friends. Now, in my white-haired years, I have returned once more, still daring not to forget the duty between ruler and subject. You have repeatedly bestowed gifts on me, and your written instructions have often reached the court. I have not yet repaid your kindness. Fortunately, I was present for the ancestral temple sacrifices: surrounded by a profusion of flowers, the ceremonial procession allowed me to see the emperor’s retinue. Then a single decree was issued at court, and I was suddenly chosen for the ranks of Daoist officials.

As a manager, one must take responsibility for everyday matters such as firewood, rice, oil, and salt. As a ritual master, one must use talismans and ritual water to help people and free them from misfortune. Who could have expected someone as dull as I am to be ranked alongside men like Fan Kuai? This appointment must be because you serve your superior with reverence and govern with Daoist compassion. Taking pity on me, who had come from a thousand miles away, you could not bring yourself to change my title, yet could not bear to see me grieve alone, so you allowed me to rise in rank alongside the others.

In the past, I had only heard of great masters who coordinated military and civil affairs. Now I have met a worthy man skilled in cultivating the Dao through incense offerings. My arms are so thin they seem ready to fall off, and there is no money to be found in my pockets. Now every task requires money, yet I cannot even write a petition asking for an allowance. Still, I can read books; I only think of retiring and returning to my native place.

The Palace Master of the Taiyi Palace respectfully offers thanks to the Supervising Official.

My mind is calm and clear, and my affairs are few; I carefully observe the rules of ritual purification. The favor I have received is too great for my reputation and abilities to merit. I have been brought into palace affairs beyond my station. Though I submitted my memorial quickly, my skills are shallow and my preparations inadequate.

I reflect that the exalted deities reside in the palace precincts and rank among those who attend the emperor; all members of the Daoist community look up to them. Yet things in recent years have changed greatly from the past. Unless one has the debating skill of Hui Shi or Zhuangzi, few can grasp the pleasure of watching fish at the Hao River. Some appear humble and withdrawn, others prominent and successful, but all set their minds on games and amusements. Those who read the Scripture of the Yellow Court find many errors in the text; among those who punctuate and collate the Book of Changes, how many truly study its principles in depth? Many people scheme and compete in the marketplace, while few in court quietly cultivate their nature. Restoring this declining climate will require steadfast integrity.

A person like me knows his own shortcomings and has little desire for worldly affairs. I had already received permission to return home, but now I have again been summoned to court. I leave what is near to go far, while people crowd to see the emperor’s newly bestowed appointment. I resign a lofty post and am content with a low one, wishing only to preserve the humble life I had before. I would follow Yan Hui, who was content with a basket of rice and a gourd of water in his narrow lane, and I long for the bamboo shoots and bracken of the spring mountains. The court has gone to great lengths to arrange things for me and place me in a leadership position. When someone asked what I wanted, I immediately declined and explained my difficulties. Those who understand me may ask what else I seek. Having accepted such generous favor face to face, how could I presume to place myself above the others? Yet I have been assigned to the west of the abbot’s quarters—the residence of the head of a Daoist temple or another senior figure. To accept burdensome affairs in place of a quiet life already goes against my nature; to wish to leave only to be kept here is truly a mistaken course.

You have shown me the regard of an elder, and you were born with the bearing and bones of an immortal. You warm and cultivate your Dantian, the body’s center of internal cultivation in Daoism, without taking medicines that promise to preserve youth. Your chamber is filled with fragrance, and in your leisure you study the clear scriptures at dawn. Wearing a red bow and arrows, you serve the ruler; at the Laurel Pavilion and Bamboo Palace, shrines where deities are worshipped, you pray for the protection of the state. All who belong to the Daoist community and wear feathered robes are blessed by your grace.

How could I fail to cleanse my heart, serve the public, set myself straight, and lead my subordinates? I will take some care to assess the results of my incense offerings and cultivation, and weigh my decisions about staying or leaving with even greater caution. I now know that I am unfit for the appointment, yet it is difficult to defy the ruler’s command. I hope to resign this post next year, and earnestly ask you to allow this retired scholar, who has not entered official service, to withdraw into seclusion.

On Thanking Xu Shukuan for His Visit

“Unfurling Chen Fan’s couch” refers to the Eastern Han official Chen Fan, who specially set out a couch for the visiting Xu Zhi and put it away only after his guest had left. I have long admired your own regard for worthies and your hospitality toward scholars. You came to my humble dwelling, unexpectedly gracing this remote place with your presence. I regret that I did not make your acquaintance sooner, and am grateful that you took such trouble to visit bearing gifts.

You must have been born with exceptional gifts and be widely learned, with a keen and lucid eye for things; often, in the time it takes to clasp your hands, you can compose poems and rhapsodies. Your reputation for talent has risen like a wind lifting a soaring bird, though it is a pity that you passed the examinations rather late. You have studied diligently, know the hardships of a scholar’s life, and have traveled with your pack to admire mountains and rivers far and wide. The more straitened your circumstances, the firmer your resolve; no power can bend you.

You chose the courtesy names “Reverence, Generosity, Trustworthiness, Diligence, and Kindness” for your brothers. They suit one another perfectly, like the purple thorn tree, whose branches symbolize harmony among siblings. May you stand out among the worthy and gifted, and together ascend the cinnabar osmanthus tree, a symbol of success in the examinations.

I have withdrawn to the mountains and grown old. When you arrived, I was reading the long parallel prose you had sent, and recognized its elegant, refined style. You compare yourself to Yang, and surely will not be mocked as one who thinks only of himself and refuses to serve the world. Master Xu has gained a son, and recites that verse that makes people turn back and leaves guests in astonishment. Even a long song cannot fully express my feelings; it would be a pleasure if you could stay a little longer.

You urged me to buy grain on the mountain. Just as the rice was ripening, I drew provisions from the government storehouse and then continued providing meals at the master’s home. This not only let me feel your kindness toward a guest, but also showed your respect for your teacher. You have supplied meals for a long time, yet I have been slow to thank you. I understand that your family is well off and that generations in your household have studied and passed on their learning. You have no wish to go to Chang’an, where even firewood for cooking is costly, yet you are willing to eat plain fare on Mount Hezao.

The disciples have followed the master for many years. Some may laugh that they merely sit at ease and accept what is provided. If a great man cannot make his own living, he should accept food to satisfy his hunger. Though we do not support Zhongli, Mencius’s adoptive mother, as Mencius did, we cannot avoid cooking the meals ourselves, as Yan Hui did. The general is not yet old, and his attendants are all full of vigor. Today we make do with a bowl of rice and a spoonful, casually taking a little rice; in time, we will surely host our guests with a lavish feast of five tripods.

My family’s granary has long been empty, but by chance I have reopened my old shop. Alas, the beans on my mountain have fallen, while I envy the fine millet growing in your fields. My mother likes the scorched rice from the bottom of the pot, so I use it to please her and fulfill my filial duty. My older brother, because the rice in the pot displeased our mother, was left open to blame. When a guest leaves the bed, it hangs empty once more; the newly written banner is still there.

In Reply to Lin Guanshu of White Cloud Abbey on Mount Mao

You once again hung out a bed to welcome me, and I was too ashamed to look at the green grass in front of the hall. Your letter came from afar and let me share in a wisp of white cloud from the mountain ridge. Reading it in the height of summer, I felt a cool breeze on my face.

I understand that you cast off the robes and cap of a Confucian scholar early in life and had the courage to seek the Returned Elixir, the elixir and state of cultivation pursued in Daoist practice. Your speech and poems often sound like the words of an immortal untouched by worldly concerns; while waiting for the right time to put the Dao into practice, you also formed a bond with those who share their gruel. War and famine have now struck, and for the time being you rely on your elder sister, living beneath the bright moon. I hope that when you receive a letter, you will be able to enter the court and take up a post in the Two Streets.

My years are waning, and the tastes of the world have grown faint to me. I cannot resign myself to being bound by official life; all I wish is to roam freely in the world. My own conduct is topsy-turvy, and I know only Yang Xiong’s writings. If you laugh at me, then let us go together to seek out Lin Hejing’s plum blossoms.

In Reply to Zhou Zilu’s Urging Me to Write a Poem

The tastes of the world have grown faint to me. I cannot resign myself to being bound by official life; I only wish to roam freely among people. My conduct is topsy-turvy, and I know little beyond Yang Xiong’s writings. If you laugh at me, then let us go together to seek out Lin Hejing’s plum blossoms.

You previously came riding on the wind and honored my mountain retreat with a visit. Our refined conversation showed me that truly extraordinary people do exist in this world. You also brought out a long scroll of poems and prose, saying it was by a renowned writer. Now you have sent me a paired letter, humbly asking for a few ordinary verses. I am as cold and useless as jade in icy water; how could I repay your precious Green Silk zither? The three hundred poems of the Book of Songs are many, but what use are they? They only leave servants such as Hongya and Geduo laboring for nothing. My mother is seventy, and we depend on each other for our livelihood. I often think of the poor life on Mount Song, living on persimmons and chestnuts. I am deeply ashamed that my short poem cannot record the generosity you have shown me. As you tap a spittoon—a way the ancients kept time and expressed their feelings—and give it a brief look, you will probably use it to cover a pickle jar, judging it unworthy of a read.

Reply to Lei Ying-lei

I have withdrawn to a mountain valley and become a minister who has left the court. You came to visit with two poems, like an enthusiastic guest knocking at my door. You were born in the Year of the Metal Dragon, the very age when Su Xun, known as Old Spring, applied himself to study, and when Shao Yong, known as Master Kangjie, hoped for the birth of a son. Your poetry is lofty and exceptional; who could doubt that its fame will travel far? I will send a boy out to welcome you, then test whether the sound of the Lei zither—famous for being made by the Lei family—is clear and bright, so that it may sound together with you. Before long, you will wear garments bright as rosy clouds and stand shoulder to shoulder with celebrated scholars.

Reply to Presented Scholar Wang after the Gathering

You came to visit me with your poems, just as I was regretting that we had met so late. As we served wine to our guests, I heard that you had suffered the misfortune of an injured arm. Famous mountains are not easily reached, so I am fortunate that distinguished guests keep coming. I had thought the clouds around Mount Heng would part, but instead you slipped on the stone path. Your writing is quick and fluent, as though a turn of the wrist were enough to compose it. As for official rank, there is a saying that a broken arm brings good fortune, as if the injury itself were an auspicious omen. You bared your right shoulder and must have cost the good doctor a great deal of medicinal ointment. Now you use your left hand to grasp something thorny; still, please allow this old man to keep you company and help you manage.

Reply to Daoist Zeng’s Request to Stay

You have written to the court three times to make your petition. Why then pack poems into a bag and come asking me? After six rounds of inspection and assessment, when you return to the hall, you should present a receipt for your meal money. Even if you have no intention of entering official service and drift out of the mountains like a cloud, you should not enter the mountains empty-handed. Though we have known one another for a long time, the rules of purity and discipline must not be disturbed. If you say you mean to travel on foot from place to place, your fellow residents may mock you. But if you produce your appointment document, you can keep the immortal crane on the Heng River. I am deeply grateful that you have presented me with your writing.

When a person returns to their hometown, how could they enter the mountains empty-handed? Though many old acquaintances remain, the rules of purity and discipline cannot be broken at will. If I went off to learn the life of a wandering monk, I fear those living with me would mock me. If I returned carrying an appointment document, it would be like leaving the crane that had paused at Hengjiang behind: the journey would be hard to undertake. I am deeply grateful for the congratulatory message you sent and for your heartfelt kindness.

Reply to the post sent by Zhao, Assistant Prefect, offering me an appointment

I had hoped to quiet disputes and show consideration for the elderly, and planned to change the old rules. I sought to resign, yet instead received a promotion; this was certainly not what I intended. The generous salary at the government office is worth a thousand in gold, and the lavish gifts delivered to my door are astonishing; even the ancient firs seem to tremble, and the stubborn rocks to quake. I think of how I have long been driven about like a flying bird, and am already weary; like a flying squirrel, my abilities are limited, and I have no strengths left to offer. I reached a three-way crossroads and already regret taking the wrong path; even if I climbed to the top of a hundred-foot pole, how could I go any farther?

I have no money with which to repay this kindness, nor can I deposit it in the military supply office. Please read the letter from my old friend in Luoyang and understand that I am not deliberately striking an arrogant pose like Shao Yong, whose courtesy name was Yaofu. Please also decline the rice sent by the village children, and let me return early, like Tao Yuanming, whose courtesy name was Jingjie. I have written this brief reply and ask for your understanding.

Reply to the Scholar Nie

I have returned home in a monk’s black robes and coarse brown garments, like someone wearing brocade by night: though I have talent, no one can see it. Pearls and jade cast upon the ground—who would write for me of the skirts in which I lie at ease by day? By chance I wandered among immortals in a dream, and so failed in courtesy toward the guests who came to visit.

Your reputation stands high in the north, and your renown has spread throughout Hunan. Scholar, your mind is quick as though you had three ears; I, like Guanyin with a thousand hands, still failed to keep you here. We did not get to drink wine and talk of literature as we had hoped, leaving only the deep longing of one who gazes at the roof beam and misses a friend. The occasion to meet in the formal attire of cap and robes or in a monk’s kasaya must wait for another day. As for meeting in boots and official robes, holding the tablet carried by officials at court, I hope you will go at once to take up your honored post.

Reply to Deputy Palace Official Zhang on his congratulations on my receiving a title

Daoist practitioners gathered in a confused throng, and by chance I was unworthy enough to serve as director of both altars. I was fortunate to meet people of the caliber of immortals and perfected beings, and to receive many layers of favor from the court. Let me set these matters aside for now. Simply making up for the ritual codes and ceremonies lacking at this mountain was already no easy task.

I am grateful for your seasoned skill in handling affairs and your meritorious assistance. You did not petition the court in pursuit of personal advancement, but hoped to end the fighting and bring peace to the realm. As you sat at leisure among the mountain rocks, you could compose poems; you willingly held a bowl and copied celestial writings. The words you shaped into a finished work brought a gleam to these old eyes. You acted without self-interest, working only for the public good. The court’s edicts and appointment documents happened to record the achievements of the moment, while accounts written on plain silk and bamboo slips have continued to circulate through praise from many places.

Reply to Chen, the Local Official

You have endured the year’s end like pine and bamboo, and our friendship is as strong as glue and lacquer. You struck bamboo in time and sang as you walked, seeking out immortal companions high in the mountains. You slept among the clouds and declined the court’s summons, carrying the forebears’ legacy far and wide. Flags and gongs sounded together as the welcoming procession approached; you also generously presented poems ringing with the force of bronze and stone.

My hair has turned completely white, and my writing falls far short of the “rafter-sized brush” praised by the ancients as a metaphor for vigorous, outstanding prose. Now an old horse is being used as though it were a young one. I deeply regret my earlier misjudgment in the affairs of the Six Provinces. Those who came later reaped the rewards, and wealth has accumulated in abundance. “The mistake of the Six Provinces” and “the circular coin of the Nine Storehouses” are allusions, the former suggesting a mistaken decision and the latter abundant wealth.

Reply to Lecturer Huang

Your mind is clear as still water, and when you lecture your speech is fluent and persuasive. You read the Changes and found a worthy wife. In my private view, you are more admirable than the legendary figure who slew a flood dragon and took a wife. You entered the mountains and encountered a stubborn stone, and with your own eyes saw the elder brother tending sheep. In your seven-character poem, you praised me for possessing two virtues.

My reputation spread along with the slander against me, and the events have endured because they were recorded. The court’s commands are now being renewed, and I am fortunate to have you assess and appreciate me. The forebears’ tradition can be revived, and I too will strive to carry on Lord Tan’s mantle of transmission.

Reply to Palace Supervisor Wang

A certain man devoted himself to cultivating the Dao; his other talent lay in discussing military strategy. He continued the kind of writing exemplified by “the lone wild goose and the rosy clouds,” and was well acquainted with travels around Nanpu. He also taught the Seven-Star Evil-Slaying Sword, a Daoist ritual sword. His inherited Daoist lineage connected with the Diantang tradition. Delighted by the grand ceremonies honoring the gods, he composed a new piece and presented it to me.

A certain man happened to take part in public affairs, which for a long time hindered worthy men from making use of their talents. After Zhang Liang came two men of the Wang family—how could anyone lament that talent was hard to find? There is also a general named Fan in the army, whose achievements in defeating the enemy and winning battles can still be seen.

Returning to Chenxi Mountain to Take Up Official Duties Again

Great Celestial Noble Spirit of Taiyi, I take my leave of the incense offerings at the Bamboo Palace. The green felt rug is still my old possession, stirring the clouds and rosy mists among the peaks of Ge. The crowd mocked me and drove me away, yet I have returned. Who could understand that someone would let me go, only to keep me here again? I have received the warm hospitality of a deeply devoted friend, and the kindness of being given writings as precious as pearls and jade. The road is perilous, like a cart crossing a gorge or a boat capsizing; the ways of the world and the human heart are hard to predict. I can still subdue dragons in the water and slay fierce beasts on land. Do not stand by with your arms folded; I hope you will offer your counsel frankly.

Written on Behalf of Another to Urge Zhao Xian to Expedite the Spring Edict

You hold the embroidered robes of office, a title for inspectors and other oversight officials, and your reputation rises to the clouds. The time is near when you can fulfill your ambitions and benefit the people. You stand apart like a precious pagoda; may the favors you bestow be as vast as the heavens. I presume to submit these humble words one after another and respectfully await your new instructions.

I have privately examined the regulations of the office that selects officials and found its rules for choosing and appointing the worthy to be especially strict. Most officials in the prefectures and counties fall under your jurisdiction, and every case and lawsuit requires scrutiny of how those responsible have performed their duties. Even when many people make recommendations together, the final choice must come from your office. Who could fail to shine when given an elixir refined from the secret arts in Liu An, Prince of Huainan’s Hongbao? And since you have given a promise as weighty as Ji Bu’s thousand pieces of gold, I trust you will not break your word.

When I consider myself, my learning is shallow, and I have not lived up to the instruction passed down in my family. My abilities are also too limited to serve in a staff office. Yet I revere official documents and laws, and fortunately I am still young and full of energy. How could I fail to do my utmost? At home, I have not yet settled matters concerning my young children. If I am to enter your service, I know well the sincerity of my elders. When the time comes, I will travel in a light carriage to welcome you, and I will treasure your appreciation of this old, humble thing of mine, like a worn-out broom. May you look into an abandoned deep well and discover a spring nine fathoms below; may you draw a few pints from the vast waters of the Western River to help me. When will you arrive? I only hope you will issue the order to depart in early spring. My wish to seek office is so urgent that I fear the boat may have carried its passengers away in the middle of the night. Forgive my repeated entreaties and unfinished words, and allow me to ask earnestly once more—three times over.

I respectfully reflect that your reputation is outstanding, and your learning draws on the tradition of the scholars of the Yi and Luo rivers. You plan great affairs of state and bear the weighty responsibility of judging punishments and hearing cases. You tour the lands of Zhouyuan, inspecting them one by one; wherever you go, even stubborn stones seem to settle into place. You stand with sword in hand on Mount Kongtong, and the rabble bow in submission. Before your discerning gaze, clear as the mirror raised by Fanggao—the name given to the horse judge Bole—no fine horse in the herd escapes notice. Because you do not readily grant your approval, your search for talent and your recommendations leave almost no one overlooked.

I am fortunate to be listed among your dependents and wish to enter your service. In a portrait, the eyes are what bring the likeness to life; with wings attached, one can rise on the wind. You first support allies of your own clan and then extend your care to those of other surnames, showing the breadth of your great De (virtue and power). If you treat me as a scholar of the state, I will repay you with the service due to a scholar of the state. If you treat me as an ordinary person, I scarcely dare claim that I can repay your generous favor. My devotion and admiration are deeply sincere; how could I ever express them fully?

As commander-in-chief, you hold the tally of authority and oversee military and civil affairs, and you have also established the office of the regional commissioner. The people on both banks of the Yangtze rely on you, a senior minister entrusted with a mission. I presume to approach your lofty position and recall our old ties as fellow examination candidates and family friends. Though I am but a blade of grass, I dare to place myself under your protection. Knowing myself to be no more than a speck of dust among your subordinates, I still set aside the gulf between our stations and earnestly lay my concerns before you, though I stand before a seat as exalted as the stars.

I have studied the honor rolls of successful candidates through the dynasties. They include many distinguished names, yet it is rare to find two families each with three members passing in the same year. Three members of the Kong family stood together at Linjiang, and three of the Hong family passed together at Fanshui; each was famed for producing outstanding talent. But who can match the distinction of our two families, bound by deep affection and success in the same examinations? My late father and your father, along with another elder, once served together in the Duandian Hall and forged ties between our families. When you served as deputy prefect, you once took your guests up to Yugu Terrace, and your bond with my family was especially close. Now, when the Chancellor returned home to visit his parents, he passed through Penpu and graciously went out of his way to call on my family. I have read that those bound by deep affection are like brothers even when they do not share a surname. Surely this kindness will extend to our descendants and endure for generations.

Yet people differ in their natural gifts, as dragons differ from pigs, and in their talents, as the great Peng bird differs from the little sparrow in its power of flight. Since I have something to say, I venture to ask: if you judge that I merit advancement, please recommend me.

My natural gifts are ordinary and my learning limited. When I sat for the civil examinations, I hoped only to win a place by good fortune; when I entered the examination hall again, I could only hope to be granted an official’s tablet and appointed to service. Thanks to your kindness, I was able to take a minor post, but I am also constrained by its duties. I have read Wang Anshi’s collected writings and visited the Wenxuan Pavilion at Xiaozhou. You once wished to help me enter official service and graciously offered to recommend me. You said that once your current public duties were finished, you would attend to my case. I have kept your words in mind and waited anxiously for you to write a letter of recommendation on my behalf. Now, the hardest part of escaping the restrictions of the appointment system is obtaining a recommendation from an official. I once came to your residence to seek your help, and now I write to you personally with urgent gratitude, mindful of your generous promise.

If you would quickly send your own letter of recommendation to the offices concerned, even my humble dwelling would be honored by it. Rather than rely on Lord Liu’s letters, which mingled the good with the bad, I would follow Kong Li’s example of seeking instruction from his father and ask you to recommend me, so that talent may be widely recognized like peach and plum trees in bloom. I hope to receive your kindness as members of the family of Lord Wanshi did, earning respect through simple household ways, with someone even doing the laundry; and, like one who cherishes an old broom, I will treasure the generosity you have shown me.

With respect, you are generous by nature, and diligent study has given you clear insight. You once served in the government offices of the capital and know the ways of chief ministers and other senior officials. Your breadth of mind is like the sea, giving you the power to understand the world. After many years in court service, you rose to the highest ministerial rank. Now the borderlands are repeatedly aflame, and the Yangtze region needs peace all the more. You have applied to the defense of the capital the strategies you used to govern the Huai River region. With a feather fan in hand, you give your orders and deploy the warships; the camps resound with authority, and the enemy forces withdraw. You have eased the emperor’s anxieties and helped the court govern the affairs of state.

A father’s cherished friends are cherished by his son as well, and so outstanding men are invited early to serve in the Eastern Pavilion. The guests of an enlightened host are often worthy men themselves, though sometimes even ordinary people are welcomed beyond the usual measure. I attach myself to your household and dare to offer my small sincerity, like an archer with a slingshot who nevertheless dares to ask for a taste of the precious owl. I beg you to spare some of your attention and show special care for me, an unpromising orphan. A little help, like adding a single basket of earth, would let me build a mountain; I will not abandon the work of digging a well merely because its spring lies deep.

If I can grow under the care of the master craftsman Jiang Shi and become a talent recognized by Bo Le, why should I depend on anyone else? I hope to remain by Lord Gongxiu’s side and pay my respects; I also hope to honor the oath of the Wenguo Duke’s family and make your household the refuge I rely on throughout my life. From now on, I will gradually establish merit and achievement to repay your kindness, which nurtures all things like Heaven and Earth.

Wang Jian, Palace Official, Replies with Congratulations on the Summons

The retired scholar, though living in seclusion in the mountains and forests, still holds the rank of chief minister. The court has sent someone to the Long region to urge him back to the ritual retreat. His promotion to an administrative post came as casually as selecting an official by throwing dice; his audience at court was like a macaque crawling into a sack, constrained by others. Now, by chance, the shame of dwelling in a secluded valley has been washed away, though this may also bring ridicule from those who accuse him of taking a shortcut. I am deeply grateful for the poem you sent and treasure the friendship it expresses. I was about to step into the courtyard and have the worldly carriages draw to a halt, yet I dare not presume to take my seat and receive the visit of an honored guest. In talent, you rival Cao Zhi, famed for his eight bushels of literary brilliance, and your words are even more sweeping than his. In stature, you stand nine chi and four cun tall; such distinction should rightly belong to Cao Jiao. We shall travel east together by carriage, and then I will present our case above.

End of Volume One of the Collected Works of Master Wuzhai

Collected Works of Master Wuzhai, Volume Two

The emperor bestowed on the lofty recluse the honorary title of Right Assistant Director for Appraising Righteousness, and placed him in charge of religious affairs. Written by Yang Zhizhi of Mount Hezao.

Draft on behalf of someone: Letter of thanks to the chief ministers for appointment to an honorary post at a palace temple (long…)

After living quietly in the countryside for so long, how could I have dared hope that the court would inquire after me and summon me? Now, once again, I have received an order to enter the court, but in the end I have still asked to serve as a ritual official, overseeing a Daoist temple. This office bears the fine title “entrusted with the meaning, in charge of…”

Written by Yang Zhizhi of Mount Hezao.

Draft on behalf of someone: Letter of thanks to the chief ministers for appointment to an honorary post at a palace temple (long…)

I originally lived quietly in the countryside, never daring to hope that the court would recognize or summon me. Now I have once again been ordered to serve at court, and in the end I accepted the invitation to take up a post as a ritual official. Though this position carries the dignity of keeping watch at a government office, its stipend can also help support my poor household. Grateful for the emperor’s kindness, I have set out my personal circumstances and offered my thanks.

I reflect that I was born in a remote village and have only ordinary abilities. I was occupied with honoring my teachers and caring for my family and friends; how could I have spoken of assisting the ruler and governing the people? In the past, I managed with difficulty to repay my debts to the county, yet I still owed obligations to officials of the prefecture. Because of my many illnesses, I asked to return home. Now I draw an idle stipend without earning it, and though it is time for me to retire, I have not yet resigned. This is truly because I remain attached to this enlightened age.

The wise and enlightened emperor has personally taken charge of government and ushered in a new era by changing the reign title. Worthy and able men have been promoted together to help govern the state. The court inquired whether I was still alive, then included me among the Eight Worthies. Though I humbly declined, the court did not grant my request, and successive appointment edicts arrived. Talented men have gathered in great numbers, and the court permitted me to join their ranks and enter Dao Mountain, the repository of Daoist books. But I am old and frail, and can no longer go to the Heavenly Gate—the court—to attend ceremonies and serve.

I repeatedly expressed my earnest requests, and at last received the court’s gracious understanding of my wishes. The court bestowed on me the books of the Eastern Wall and entrusted me with overseeing the incense offerings at Central Mao. My body need not leave my home village, yet my name is listed among the ranks of officials. What use can I possibly be to the court? Yet in my old age, the court has shown me exceptional favor. This kindness far exceeds my hopes; I can truly say that I am fortunate to have encountered a flourishing age.

As for organizing and annotating the texts in these books, I have already devoted the strength of my whole life to the task. The books kept in my home were meant for my descendants to study. Now the manuscripts have been sent to the government, and the prefecture has graciously chosen to circulate them. I feel both ashamed and concerned that my shallow views may do nothing to illuminate the sacred learning.

All this is because I have had the good fortune to serve under a ruler whose fame reaches far beyond the realm and whose achievements concern the state and its foundations. He personally directs the government, like the sun suspended above the Abyss of Yu, and sweeps the clouds from the Yellow Path, bringing clarity to the realm. Like King Tang, who employed Yi Yin, he seeks instruction from worthy ministers and appoints them to serve him, showing the abundance of his virtue. Like Emperor Shun, who recommended Gao Yao, he selects the worthy from among the people, demonstrating his deep command of the ancient way. With diligence, he has renewed many neglected affairs; with a lift of his hand or a step, he has promoted many officials. Even an aged and useless man like me has received the same honor.

How could I not hope for an age of peace and prosperity, and do my utmost to extend my remaining years? I would emulate the praises exchanged by enlightened rulers and worthy ministers, and share in the joyful recreation of people young and old. Even when I bask in the sun for warmth, I do so with the wish to offer counsel to the ruler. But now it is already late for me to resign, so I will submit another memorial stating my intention to retire.

I respectfully understand that the court has issued an appointment entrusting you with the grave responsibility of overseeing military and civil affairs and restoring order and authority. You had returned home in honor and enjoyed the ease of living in your native place. Now the court has urged you to enter its service, and people from every quarter await your arrival at the palace gates. Since you took up your post, the troops have been brought to order and the situation has stabilized. A single word from you dispelled internal troubles, and peace returned to the sea; the emperor was pleased.

I admire your outstanding intelligence and uncommon ability, your composure and gravity, and your sound judgment and perceptiveness. Among the talented people of the realm, none surpasses you; when you put your strategic plans into action, you are invincible. During your ten years of service in the Jiang-Huai region, you fought in many campaigns and planned with precision. You dealt a heavy blow to the Xiongnu and captured the Chanyu Zhizhi. Your illustrious achievements are recorded on banners and in the annals of history. And when you withdrew to live among springs and rocks, you also enjoyed a life of quiet leisure.

The times are troubled, and I doubt you will remain in retirement for long. The situation in Shu is worrying, so the court has asked you to take up office there. When conflict broke out locally, the moment you arrived, the soldiers were awed into submission; they laid down their weapons and came to pay their respects. It seems that the altars of state in Luoyang still need the support of high ministers, while local military unrest has not yet been fully quelled. Your subordinate officials are waiting in the courtyard, and the emperor has summoned you with great formality.

The Yanyudui shoal in the Three Gorges is as perilous as a giant elephant, yet ships from Eastern Wu can still pass through. The Wei River once brought the auspicious sign of Jiang Taigong fishing and meeting his destined ruler; soon, too, you will take charge of the key region in the west. May you put out the border beacons of war and strengthen the foundations of the state.

I am merely a junior from a remote corner of Jiangnan, and I came to the capital late. I am ashamed that I have not been able to call on you in person. Reading the court’s edicts over the past several days has only deepened my admiration. Xique of Jin was renowned for his virtue; may you likewise earn the respect of all and display your standing amid the grand ceremony of people welcoming you along the roadside. Xiao He of the Han once planned the state’s supplies and provisions; may you, too, offer wise counsel to secure the Guanzhong region. My congratulations and admiration are beyond what I can express.

The title, “Written on Another’s Behalf to Congratulate Zhao Dazi on His Appointment as Pacification Commissioner of the East,” means that the letter was written for someone else to congratulate Zhao Dazi on being appointed Pacification Commissioner of the East.

I respectfully hear that the court has entrusted you with major military and civil responsibilities, and that you are leaving the capital to take up an appointment in the provinces. While serving at court, you presented plans for governing the state, as Jia Yi once did. Now, with court audiences temporarily suspended, the ruler in the ninefold palace has entrusted you with matters vital to the governance of the Eastern Zhou. You are to take charge amid the mountains, issue orders from your headquarters, and quietly bring good fortune to the capital.

I admire you as a worthy man endowed with the finest gifts of sea and mountain, and as a pillar of the state. Your ability and bearing are unmatched; no one among the talents of the present day can compare with you. Your renown is so great that it can pacify the Xiongnu beyond the northern frontier. You shield the Yangtze and protect the Huai, with every part of your governing plan set in order. You have filled the treasury and strengthened the army, and your achievements are plain to see. At times you have thought of retiring to Pingquan, and in your leisure you have sought traces of the elegant gatherings of the Luoyang Society. Now the ruler urges you to return to court without delay. You have comforted the soldiers and people around Jiange, sent the troops back to their units, and brought military preparations in the camp to an orderly close.

Rather than cross the Lu River in the fifth month to campaign, it is better to hold a banquet in late spring. So an edict was issued from the palace, and you came to the imperial capital. The palaces were built in accord with Heaven’s mandate, sustaining the state’s fortune for ten thousand years. Clouds drift among the towers, as if the immortals of the Three Isles of Penglai had gathered there. The elegant literary affairs of the court are entrusted to officials skilled in hosting banquets; the daily paperwork and public business need not burden seasoned senior ministers. May you steadily establish achievements that bring stability to the state, and soon rise to a high and influential post at the heart of the court.

My talents and learning are meager, yet the court has appointed me, and I find myself sharing with you the responsibility for transporting military supplies. I am ashamed that I cannot offer useful advice, and fear only that I may mishandle the work. Hearing that you have chosen an auspicious day to set out for your appointment, I am glad to serve as your colleague and to benefit from your protection. Your banners and ceremonial escort are before my eyes; I rely on you to seek sound counsel and accept correction. I would like to accompany you beyond the city to a pavilion in the countryside, but can only imagine your elegant gathering at Mirror Lake. I would also like you to invite worthy men to stay in the Eastern Pavilion, so that I might follow and learn from them, but can only take my place in the crowd. My wish to assist you is heartfelt, yet I cannot fully express all I would like to say.

On behalf of someone, congratulating Vice Minister Wu on his appointment as General Administrator for Huainan East and his concurrent command of Zhenjiang: This is a congratulatory piece written on another person’s behalf, celebrating Vice Minister Wu’s appointment as General Administrator for Huainan East and his concurrent oversight of Zhenjiang.

I respectfully congratulate you on carrying the imperial tally on your mission, overseeing military provisions, and directing the affairs of a region. Your seals are many and your position distinguished; as an envoy of the court, you rank above the feudal lords. Your brothers have risen to prominence and flourish like trees in full bloom, much as the brothers of Lord Feng were praised. The government offices have been rebuilt, and officials gather there in a grand assembly.

I admire you as an outstanding figure among the court’s high ministers, renowned far and wide. You understand the principles set out in The Great Learning and The Doctrine of the Mean; your writing is exceptional, and you handle government affairs with skill. You once served among the officials close to the emperor. In your youth, you gained experience in prestigious and influential offices, and your composure and talent shone all the more when you managed complex affairs. Now that the realm needs sound governance, the emperor has sought out worthy talent.

You hold high office with a stipend of two thousand shi and travel in a red-wheeled carriage with screens on either side. You have come to take up your post at a Daoist monastery in Jiangdong, and I imagine you do not regard this as a lesser assignment. Military provisions are issued according to regulation, ensuring that troops stationed beyond the passes are adequately supplied. You carry forward the scholarly spirit of Great Su, and the frontier beacon fires have grown as peaceful as those at the Willow Camp. With your exceptional talent and bearing, you govern this strategically important region. The troops are well supplied, the people are content, and swords have been put away so that farming may resume. The peoples of the frontier live in harmony: this is a blessing for the state, and weapons of war can at last be laid aside.

May you soon return to court, enter the ranks of the high officials of the Purple Bag, and then rise to the distinguished post of the Yellow Gate, such as that of chief minister. Those of us with limited abilities have been unable to contribute to the work of government, yet we draw salaries all the same and feel ashamed. When we visit the towers and pavilions of Beigu Mountain, we sometimes jest that we are covered in dust from outside the Donghua Gate. Hearing that you have received a special appointment, we offer our congratulations in the spirit of colleagues. All under heaven praise the worthy officials of Wu; in private, we admire the example of upright officials who serve the people with devotion. The army, too, has its stories of the celebrated general of the Fan family, and we still hope you will achieve great distinction. Our joy and admiration are difficult to express fully; please accept these congratulations.

“On Behalf of Another, Congratulating Wei Shaojian on His Appointment as Judicial Commissioner of Zhexi”: a congratulatory address composed on behalf of another to celebrate Wei Shaojian’s appointment as judicial commissioner of Zhexi. A judicial commissioner was an official responsible for judicial oversight in a region.

Congratulations on your selection for service among the court officials and your appointment as an envoy bearing the imperial credentials. You will govern the region within five hundred li of the capital, with all matters of eastward and westward administration subject to your judgment. The state’s finances concern reserves built up over decades, and the issuance of paper currency must also be adjusted to the changing times. As you depart, the court has granted you discretion in handling affairs and authority to assess, appoint, recommend, and discipline officials. Your carriage is about to set out, and the circulation of goods and wealth will thereby flow freely and without obstruction.

You are broad-minded, with a manner both gentle and dignified. At home you serve your father; at a distance, you are loyal to your ruler. You have deeply absorbed the teachings of the Book of Songs in its “Airs” and “Hymns.” You can manage affairs within the court and handle matters in the provinces, and you understand the conditions of military campaigns and frontier defenses reaching ten thousand li away. Your talent is like a colored sash adorning a phoenix, and your office suits someone devoted to governing. You passed the highest imperial examination, as though plucking a cassia sprig from the Moon Palace, and then composed poems celebrating the good news.

Your talent and virtue are outstanding, and the court is waiting for you to take charge of its edicts. You regard money as dirt, and no one is better able to remedy the ills of the currency system. For now, the court has sent you to inspect and make inquiries in the manner of an envoy of the Han; you will surely soon make the state prosperous. You ought to hold office in the imperial library and attend the ruler at close quarters. Now that you are temporarily leaving the capital, the post overseeing the people’s lawsuits and criminal cases stands vacant; this, too, accords with the court’s sound judgment. You will soon be summoned again and brought still closer to the ruler.

I once served at court, and now we share in the work of governing. Memories of our former fellowship remain vivid, and the longing after our parting has endured. There will be no shortage of people before you who find fault with the slightest detail and offer harsh criticism. I dare not dwell only on the old days when I rested at your post; you and I share the same interests, like plants and trees that breathe the same air. Please also remember that I once offered you words of admonition, like bitter medicine and a healing stone. I have many more words of praise, but for the moment I cannot shape them into a finished piece.

By the graciousness of your appointment, you have left your post at court to take charge of Wu Gate, in the region of present-day Suzhou. Wherever your procession goes, a fresh breeze rises in its wake, carrying forward the example of your distinguished predecessor. The days in your office will be long and bright, as you continue the elegant record of good government left by those before you. The government offices have taken on a new appearance, and officials and common people alike rejoice.

I admire your naturally generous character and broad virtue. You come from a distinguished family whose generations have held high office; your household treasures the court tablets carried by your forebears in service to the state. You also teach the young through the Confucian classics, passing down the learning of the Dao. From an early age, you won the regard of your elders and acquired the statecraft of Chen Ping, the celebrated Han official. Your counsel and deliberations have grown ever more profound, while your talent and virtue have steadily accumulated. You are like a precious sword drawn from its sheath, able to slay dragons and cleave rhinoceroses; and like a chariot racing at full speed, with luan birds leading and phoenixes following, you have surged along the path of office. Repeatedly appointed to govern local regions, you have long administered them with skill, and your achievements have flourished like auspicious grain.

You treat the people with the loving care of a parent, and your integrity is as pure and severe as ice and frost. Songs praising the peace of your governance have already reached the court; the ministers recommend worthy officials, and you deserve to be summoned back into service. The emperor has the people of Gusu in mind and also recognizes the region’s breadth and importance. Frequent changes of officials have wearied the people with constant farewells and welcomes. You are being sent to comfort and govern them, so that the people there may find stability.

Your procession will open the gates of the regional administration, and the people will be heartened by your arrival. Even the burdensome work of mining in the mountains and making salt by boiling seawater will not keep you from receiving guests at the commissioner’s office. When the court hears your views on governance and entrusts you with an important charge, you will be able to return to serve the emperor.

I entered the capital’s service late, with little talent or learning, and am overwhelmed with apprehension. I am often so anxious that the crowing of the dawn rooster wakes me from my dreams; my abilities are no greater than those of the flying squirrel, whose many supposed skills are all imperfect. Fortunately, I have been able to draw near your brilliance and share in your protection. Now that we serve at court together, I hope to presume upon your favor and join the attendants of Ganquan Palace. Since you treat me with the regard due a man of the state, surely you will also remember with affection an old acquaintance from the Eastern Pavilion. I am deeply grateful for the confidence you place in me, and words cannot express all I wish to say.

Written on another’s behalf: “A Joyful Congratulation to the Chief Ministers on the Snowfall”

I respectfully submit: The four seasons revolve to make a year, and as winter approaches, Yang energy begins to stir. Heaven takes the ruler’s virtue as the basis of its blessings…

Winter Solstice Greetings

I respectfully reflect that the cycle of the four seasons makes a year, and that with the arrival of the Winter Solstice, Yang energy begins to stir. The Son of Heaven receives Heaven’s mandate through De, and all people, united in hope, pray for timely rain and snow. Thus auspicious signs increase between Heaven and Earth, and all within the four seas celebrate together.

I respectfully wish you success in quietly harmonizing the workings of Heaven and Earth, and in gathering every ounce of harmonious Qi. You watch for conflicts in the borderlands and are troubled by unrest at the frontier. You judge that the winter wheat has already spread into a continuous green field; to continue driving out evil spirits, snow must dance through the air, and solemn rites must welcome Xuanming, the winter deity. Now, as Yang energy grows with the Winter Solstice, it is as though another thread has been added to a brocade pattern. And with six-petaled snowflakes gathering, it is as if auspicious signs have fallen upon a jade terrace. I have the good fortune to take part in matters of river transport and so share in witnessing these favorable omens. The abundant grain brings to mind the Zhou people’s dream of a bountiful harvest, while reports that enemy troops have been ambushed and captured inspire hope for victory announced in daylight.

Winter Solstice Greetings to Prince Xiu on Someone Else’s Behalf

I respectfully reflect that the Han dynasty established the calendar of Heaven’s succession, its cycles extending through ten thousand years. The Winter Solstice ranks just below the beginning of the year as an important festival, and Yang energy does indeed begin to stir within seven days. Prince Xiu is an elder statesman of the imperial clan, and the Winter Solstice makes his good fortune all the more evident.

I respectfully wish you virtue clear as ice in a crystal vessel, and a reputation lofty as the Northern Dipper. The ruler calls you uncle and grants you a vast domain; Heaven, too, protects the good, granting you a lifespan as long as the pines and cypresses. As the Winter Solstice adds another thread, I respectfully present a precious gift woven of silk. In my rounds through the villages, I have come to understand how much the people need protection. Even with military transport devices such as the wooden ox and gliding horse, it is difficult to ensure that every soldier in the ranks receives the warmth of padded clothing. Seeing you with a jade belt at your waist and a fish tally hanging from it, I can only look up to your honored station near the imperial seat.

Winter Solstice Greetings to Vice Minister Shi of Pingjiang on Someone Else’s Behalf

I respectfully reflect that the court observes the heavens from within the palace and records the patterns of cloud and vapor, coordinating its observations with the Pitch-Pipe Chamber, where ancient officials measured seasonal signs and tested the vital energies, so as to keep in harmony with the seasons. Snow on Tiger Hill, a celebrated site in Suzhou, lends further splendor to your procession. It is just the season when Yang energy begins to grow with the Winter Solstice, and every kind of good fortune is gathering around you.

I respectfully wish that your upright conduct may command the respect of officials, and that your care for the people may allow them to live in peace and contentment. You once composed poems about plum blossoms in the Eastern Pavilion, and people still remember how you harmonized the affairs of government and brought benefits to the people. In service at court, your jade pendants ring as you take your place among the officials; you are well entitled to enter the palace and meet the sovereign. Before long, you will be recalled to court by imperial favor and entrusted once more with important responsibilities. Though I have little to offer in public affairs, I have received your protection in many ways. Now, with lanterns lighting the lanes, I am reminded of the company I once kept at your residence. The court is celebrating the New Year in its halls, and I hope you will receive fresh favor there.

Reply of the Governor of Qingyuan Prefecture to Winter Solstice Greetings on Someone Else’s Behalf

I respectfully reflect…

I respectfully reflect that, at Lu, observers watched the clouds and saw the reed ash stir—the ash of reed membranes, placed in pitch pipes, whose movement the ancients used to determine the seasonal nodes—thus knowing that the season had arrived. In Yin, snow scenes were raised upon a tower and cast their light upon decorated banners, making them shine. It happened just as Yang energy began to grow, when blessings and celebrations came in abundance.

With respect, a certain senior official served with integrity and was deeply loved by the people. Plum blossoms flourished in the eastern pavilion, carrying on the spirit of mountain plum trees standing proud against frost and snow. The ice sealed over West Lake, bringing to mind the scene of leaning on the balustrade to admire the moon. Before long, you will be granted a gold seal like that of Huang Ba, the Han official renowned for his capable governance; on returning to court, you will wear the jade pendant bestowed by the Purple Palace, a name for the imperial court.

My talent and learning are meager, and what I can contribute is truly limited, yet I have received much of your protection and care. I followed you along the court’s path, but can only recall the fine traces you left behind. In the new hall, guests are welcomed, and the pleasing sounds of strings and bamboo can still be heard. My admiration and praise run deep, but I cannot fully express them.

Written on behalf of the Jiaxing prefect in reply to a congratulation on the winter solstice

I respectfully submit that clouds were observed above the Phoenix Gate, the imperial palace, to verify the seasonal changes in the jade pitch pipes. Snow fell over Mandarin Duck Lake, another name for South Lake in Jiaxing, illuminating the auspicious radiance of the ivory-adorned banners. It happened just as Yang energy began to grow, when blessings and celebrations came in abundance.

With respect, a certain senior official was entrusted with governing the region. Your achievements accord with the timely governance described in the Classic of Changes, and the people sing songs praising your accomplishments. Though close to the court, you have also brought greater distinction to the region. On the winter solstice, the sun’s shadow reached one zhang and three chi; government and season alike were renewed. I have prepared a modest gift of shoes and socks, in keeping with the winter solstice custom of exchanging greetings. On your return, you may enjoy the happiness of reunion with your family. May you rise to a high place among the court’s honored ranks and draw near to serve in Sweet Spring Palace, a Han palace name for the imperial court.

My abilities are limited, and I have long relied on your protection. Music fills the splendid hall, and it is a joy to hear the season turn and Yang energy return. Fine crops grow across the fields, and a report of a good harvest should surely be presented. I cannot fully put into words this praise and admiration.

Written on behalf of the Lin’an assistant prefect, Zhang, in thanks to the chief ministers

In the past, I served in a remote county among the rocks, concerned only with governing the people well and managing, with difficulty, to avoid criticism in official circles. Now, quite unexpectedly, I have received imperial favor and been appointed to a deputy post in Shengao, the capital region. I am mindful that this place lies close to the court and the post carries weighty responsibilities. My experience is meager, and I feel deeply ashamed. The emperor’s grace extends throughout the realm; how could someone like me be worthy of the great burden of holding the reins and overseeing affairs of state?

I privately understand that a deputy in the capital, though styled “Junior Intendant” in the ceremonial retinue, holds a position of no small importance. Qiantang is a major city and lies close to the court, serving as its protective screen. At times, more than three offices are established here, yet the matters they actually adjudicate affect every branch of government. This post exists to maintain order around the capital and assist the chief official, not to idle away one’s time admiring scenery or boast of one’s standing. Looking back to the Xining era, Su Shi once held this office; more recently, during the Jiading era, a remonstrance official also served here. Clearly, its responsibilities are substantial, and only a capable person can fulfill them.

I am merely a junior from Qingtao, with little reputation. Though my shelves hold many books, I dare not cultivate a taste for empty display. I have few court tablets piled beside my bed, and so often feel ashamed that I have not carried on my family’s learning. I once traveled far to serve for three years in Oumin, in the region of Fujian. There I was buried in the press of routine affairs, achieving no notable results and earning no praise. Now, at last, I have returned safely east and gone to Chang’an to seek a livelihood. When I called at your gate, I presumptuously presented a letter recommending myself. Even a six-hundred-shi post such as that of an assistant prefect could be reached by advancing step by step; but a prominent position south of the city, so close to the Son of Heaven, was something I had never dared even to dream of.

Thanks to your generous support and profound kindness, I have had the chance to obtain this post. I can now travel between the capital and my home without having to remain for long at a military headquarters: setting out in the morning, I can be home by evening. This is a real convenience for my family. I can care for my brothers at home and follow their guidance, and arrange funerals for the orphaned children. I can also rest for a time in the countryside, allowing this weary and slow-witted man to recover and refine his learning. I have received a favor beyond anything I could have hoped for, and truly do not know how to repay it.

All this is because you are broad-minded and steadfast as a pillar supporting the heavens. You possess Xiao He’s strategic insight and Cao Can’s ability to carry on his work, applying yourself diligently to every task and bringing government to prosperity. You are also like Fang Xuanling in planning and Du Ruhui in decision-making, devoting yourself to putting affairs in order and resisting external threats. You award titles and offices with care, and excel at recognizing, welcoming, and nurturing talent. Even a rough stone like me has benefited from your refining and cultivation.

How could I fail to keep your generous kindness in my heart and follow the teachings of those who came before me? I hope that one day I may serve as an assistant to a local governor, gradually rise in office, and enter the ranks of those appointed to the capital region. Even if I can only be like a fine steed finally given the chance to show its speed, I am willing to heed the reins and whip on Huai Street, where the government offices stand. To enter the Dragon Gate and join a gathering of talented people would be an even greater honor. I will devote my whole life to repaying your profound kindness.

I respectfully hear that you have kept your strategies for governing the state hidden deep within, and that promotion has made you all the more composed and dignified. Among the Han officials, no one surpassed Chao Cuo in choosing a commander to lead the troops. You are fully equal to this great responsibility and will repay the court for its profound favor.

I also respectfully hear that you have kept your strategies hidden deep within, and that promotion has made you all the more composed and dignified. Among the Han officials, no one surpassed Chao Cuo as a commander. You are sure to enjoy good fortune and success in the army; just as the Duke of Zhou assisted King Cheng in governing the lands east of Shaan, so too will you shoulder responsibility for a region. As you take your leave of court and prepare to depart for your post, officials throughout the court rejoice.

I admire the learning you hold within you, a treasury of ten thousand volumes, and the force of your writing, like three great rivers pouring backward. Even in your youth, you were renowned as a candidate for high office at court, yet you were content to advance step by step, enduring the hardships of repeated military commands and local governorships. When the court, strained by financial difficulties, was seeking a remedy, you were like the worthy man in the Book of Changes who “pulls up the grass, roots and all”: you were recommended and entrusted with a weighty task. You took part in confidential affairs among the officials and navigated between the two ministers in power. When passing through the Hall of Government, where the chief ministers deliberated, they would compose themselves and listen attentively to your views. You discussed current affairs according to the Spring and Autumn Annals’ standards of praise and blame, and the court historians recorded your words with due seriousness. You were about to join the inner circle of attendants and close advisers, deliberating with the court over making peace with the Xiongnu through gifts of wealth.

Later, during the spring patrol in the ancient Mao region, soldiers made mistakes in their marching drills, and the ranks fell into noisy disorder. Yet, drawing on the authority you had earned through repeated appointments, you arrived at the frontier command with formidable presence. You set out first and kept a close watch, restoring the bearing of the troops. The court personally bestowed on you the Azure-Heavens Axe, a symbol of military command, but you remained as unruffled as ever, even playing chess at your country villa. Han Yu once entered the camp of Li Tingcou, a subordinate of Li Shidao, and with a letter won the obedience of his officers and men. When Li Guangbi took command from Guo Ziyi, the army’s banners were orderly and its ranks sharp. You possess the same composure and commanding authority. The court will soon hear praise of your service; you will return to the capital to take part in government and offer your counsel.

I am fortunate to hold office at court, yet lack the ability to take charge of the grain transport. Now, under the favor that flows from your reputation, I hope to join the refined gatherings at the Moon Tower. Besides, you will depart to govern a region amid red ceremonial banners, and your rank is soon to rise—news that truly fills me with joy. At the thought of parting, I cannot help feeling sorrow; I hardly dare accept the magnificent parallel prose you have sent me. You have established your achievements before I have, and I feel ashamed of my ill fortune. As we break willow branches to bid farewell, I wish you renown and distinction. Our hearts are in accord, and there is far more I would say than words can express.

I respectfully congratulate you on being entrusted with the administration of a region and on choosing an auspicious day to raise your banners. Your name has been entered in the official registers, its renown shining alongside the stars of the Eastern Wall. Your carriage, surrounded by vermilion banners, makes a display far grander than that of a visiting star. Huang Shudu, the celebrated scholar of the Eastern Han, arrived late and left us longing for him; through you, the achievements and bearing of Lord Wenzheng—usually identified as Fan Zhongyan—have gained fresh luster.

I admire your broad learning and your bearing, as fine as jade from Kunshan. You are dignified in your conduct and reverent at heart, long versed in the rites. Your cultivation in the pursuit of the Way is deep, and you have long mastered the essentials of handling affairs. You and your brothers share a fine reputation, harmonious as the paired instruments xun and chi; your characters are fragrant in their own ways, like orchids in spring and chrysanthemums in autumn. You might have remained in service at court, yet instead you went to govern a prefecture. You traveled by boat up the clear, shallow waters and put the ceremonial retinue in order upstream. The local fields and homes suffered under the exaction of taxes, and the prefectural storehouses had at one time stood empty. You planned matters yourself and adjusted the methods of governance as if setting a board anew. Your skill was such that you could make a cake even without flour. Within months of putting your new policies into effect, the people were singing the “Five Trousers Song,” praising their local magistrate’s achievements. May you one day enter the court and rank among the ministers, bring an end to warfare, and return the arms and armor to the storehouses.

How could my performance on this mission be called worthy of the task? I have only worn myself out in the service of the ruler. My hair has turned gray in the mirror, and the river tide rises high as a house. I was about to write to offer my congratulations when your gracious letter suddenly arrived. I still remember you passing through the town with your mounted party; we shared only a brief drink by the water. When you inspected the eastern part of the capital region, you recited poems interwoven with verses by Jie and others. As you pass through Tangyin—a place whose benevolent governance recalls that of the Duke of Shao—I imagine you will soon feel the urge to return to the countryside, like Tao Yuanming. I have not been able to repay your generous kindness with due respect. Thoughts of my hometown only deepen my longing.

Written in reply on behalf of Zhao Jiancheng of Anji Prefecture

I respectfully congratulate you on being selected as a worthy official and entrusted with the administration of the capital region. You have been able to associate with Jie and more than ten others, and to wear with honor the silver hare seal, the emblem of official rank, …

I am delighted to learn that you have been selected among the worthy and capable officials, entrusted with local administration in the capital region. More than a dozen of your peers now proudly wear silver hare seals, an elegant name for ancient official seals, and govern territories as vast as feudal states. You, meanwhile, occupy with distinction a refined office adorned with crystal. On your arrival, the people lined the roads in celebration, and households congratulated one another.

I admire your upright character and your deep, generous bearing. Your learning is so broad that it seems you have the aid of the blue-weed staff of Taiyi, the legendary immortal’s staff said to light the way for readers. Your manner is so free and graceful that you seem to wear the purple silk cloak of Li Bai, the “banished immortal,” and to embody the elegance of a celebrated man of letters. Others may rush straight toward the clouds in pursuit of high office, but I believe you will proceed calmly and steadily. Now that you have shown your ability, like a fine horse stretching its legs, you will also apply yourself diligently, rising at the crowing of the cock to begin your work.

You once sat among the emperor’s close attendants within the palace precincts, and had ample opportunity to encounter outstanding men. Later, while serving in the Secretariat, the office responsible for confidential affairs of state, you reviewed and signed official documents. Why, then, not enter the court as a ministerial aide? Yet you are content, for now, to serve as a local governor and try gathering six worthy guests, a general term for virtuous scholars and retainers in antiquity. You handle affairs of government with ease, and the people’s songs come close to praising a sage ruler. May your office be serene and fragrant, and may you bring about good government like that of Gong Sui and Huang Ba. In time, seated alongside the ministers in the central hall, you will surely follow in the footsteps of Fu Bi and Yan Shu.

I serve in grain transport and have little ability, yet you have always treated me with consideration. I recall how calmly you received me in the past, and how glad I was to see you take up your duties with renewed vigor and establish your administrative office. You do not make special arrangements for wine and food just because a visitor happens to pass through, nor do you send your attendants to people’s homes to seize them and press them for payment. Your policies are arranged in a way that wins the people’s hearts; this shows how truly exceptional you are.

You sent me this parallel prose piece, and I know I cannot avoid the customary exchange of courtesies. My congratulatory words are quite brief, but my eager admiration for you is heartfelt.

I hear that you have been appointed to govern a local district and are leaving your former post. With the clouds lifting over Mount Heng, you need no longer put your carriages in order for a distant journey. The moon shines full over the Xing River, and it seems you are ready to take up life on the water, at ease in your boat. The people trust your laws and directives, and songs praising you have spread far and wide.

I admire your wide learning and the depth of your writing. You did not rise to high office through the examinations; instead, your outstanding abilities led people everywhere to recommend you eagerly. What, after all, are wealth and high rank to you? You have the codes and institutions firmly in mind, and handle affairs of state as calmly as if chatting. Your bearing is graceful, and your reputation grows day by day.

You came to Lingling, a place of lovely mountains and waters, and traveled about to learn the people’s concerns. Yet you also cherished the wish to withdraw to the countryside, admire flowers, and tend trees, and you wrote of your intention to return at an early date. The court, mindful of old ties between our families, appointed you to govern a neighboring district. During your tenure, no mountain produce was sent in tribute, yet an unforced fragrance filled your residence. Then the relay station brought the imperial summons recalling you: you are to enter the court, take up your brush, and put your talents to use.

My experience is meager; how could I be equal to the task? That my hair is already gray at the temples is astonishing, too. I worry that my neglect of affairs will leave me unequal to my duties, yet I am fortunate to have the honor of your friendship. When I think of your leisurely life, as if bathing in the Yi River, I too would like, like Master Zeng, to enjoy music and books with you at Shipu. I look toward the worthy men of the Qi River region and hope you will, like Duke Wu of Wei, carry forward the legacy and work of those who came before. Your letter began with greetings to me, and I return them here; for now, I cannot say all I wish.

I offer my respectful congratulations on your appointment to leave the capital and serve as a local governor. In the Spring and Autumn period, Zuili—a historic place in the area of present-day Jiaxing, Zhejiang—was renowned for its strategic landscape. Having assisted the Jingzhao administration and now taken up a post in Fufeng, in what is now Shaanxi, you will hardly feel far from the Son of Heaven. Your reputation has spread quickly, and the region has come to life again.

With respect, your bearing is refined, your presence as extraordinary as the immortal realms of Penglai and Langfeng, and your character as stately and resonant as the precious bells Huangzhong and Dalu. You have mastered the classics, whose teachings set out the principles of serving the ruler and protecting the people; in handling public affairs, you also understand how to enrich the state and strengthen its forces. You know that one must rise step by step from humble beginnings. You have already served in local posts and have now returned to the capital. I have not failed in my duty to assist my superior, and you are indeed a gentleman worthy of respect, who has brought military affairs into disciplined order. Zhongnan cannot compare with you. Shaogong, why not take up a post at the heart of government?

You could have lived at ease in retirement, carrying your cooking pots with you, yet you remain content to serve in public office, as a child delights in entertaining a parent with a colorful performance. The emperor keeps Fuling in mind, but its people are suffering under the harms of oppressive rule, as though mauled by a fierce tiger on Mount Tai. The court has ordered a renewal of government and the transfer of officials from neighboring regions. A steady boat ride on Yuanyang Lake is no different from visiting Su Causeway and seeking out plum blossoms. Receiving your poem from Fengchi, the palace, brought me more joy than dreaming of the spring grasses in Xie Lingyun’s famous poem.

I hope your achievements in reassuring the people will soon be reported, and that you will return before long to the ranks of those who select talent for the court. I am responsible for grain transport by water, yet have achieved little; I feel fortunate to have your protection. You unexpectedly sent a piece of parallel prose into my sleeve, and I have carefully kept it. If I show it to others, I fear it may invite mockery; if I present it to the court, I hope it may give rise to songs praising you. Supporting you and awaiting your achievements are truly what I have at heart. How I ought to repay you is more than I can fully express.

Written on behalf of someone replying to Governor Wang of Jiangyin.

I respectfully hear that you have been commissioned to hold the imperial tally and guard a region, governing beyond the capital as a man of virtue and good repute. On your way to take up your post, you passed through the capital without entering the city. I am writing especially to send my greetings, and from afar I eagerly await news of your carriage and retinue.

I admire your distinguished family and your gentle, refined bearing. In their youth, father and son alike showed promise like the fresh shoots of an orchid. Even now, talent flourishes among your kin, as flowers cluster upon a calyx. Your tastes are detached and unhurried; though you act with composure, you possess a naturally lofty bearing.

I hear that you have left your former residence and are soon to receive a new appointment. After the chess game on Mount Ke ended, you sought the traces left by an immortal of legend. The clear waters of the Shen River shimmered, fulfilling the auspicious omen of a dream in which three knives appeared. “The dream of three knives” is an old allusion to a dream omen foretelling promotion. The district you govern may not be counted among the wealthiest or most powerful, but it is well suited to the careful care of its people. You will first put your governing abilities to the test in the region, and before long, good news will come of the court’s selection and appointment of you.

I have been rushing about on official business and am weary from transporting grain and supplies. By rights I should have been demoted, yet instead I was promoted. I had meant to resign and return home, but was kept in office once again. The Xianyu clan is no breed of fine steed; how could I dare call myself a lucky star in the affairs of grain transport? In Yizhou, the people were reassured when they heard Zhuge Liang’s three regulations. I can only await orders, ashamed that I fall so far short of him.

I shall repay your kindness with due courtesy. My admiration is heartfelt, and though we are far apart, my affection remains earnest.

Written on behalf of Zhao Shaojian of Wenzhou: This is a letter written in reply to Zhao Shaojian of Wenzhou on another person’s behalf.

I respectfully learned that you have been charged with drafting an imperial edict and entrusted with the weighty task of governing a region and administering a city on your own. You began your career as a high official receiving a stipend of two thousand shi, and, like a Han official who took up a left tally upon receiving his appointment, you have been sent to your post under imperial command. You are also like a Zhou feudal lord of the royal clan, supporting the royal house and serving as its bulwark in the east. The people await your arrival and praise the benefits you will bring. It is truly gratifying that you can govern with a shared purpose.

I admire your noble character, broad-mindedness, deep learning, and wide experience. You are like someone aided in his studies by the green-weed staff bestowed by the Perfected One Taiyi, which lights the way for reading. Your bearing is exceptional: you liken yourself to the exiled immortal Li Bai, clad in a splendid purple silk robe. You are well versed in administration, and your achievements are already evident. Now is the right time to put your abilities to work and establish merit without delay. You have the talent of a chief minister, once served in the Capital Commandant’s Office, and held posts in both central administrations; for many years you have worn the official seal and sash. You have ordered the military according to the way of the noble man, and now climb the mountains with light gear, as though already among a thousand crags.

The joys of the gathering at the Orchid Pavilion have not yet faded, while the court’s eagerness to summon worthy men to the Xuanshi Hall is pressing. You are now bound for a place of beautiful scenery, riding in a red-tasseled official carriage to take up your post. May the people there no longer give voice to sorrow, and may they enjoy for a time the care of a kind official who is like a father and mother to them. May your achievements in office be outstanding, so that before long you are selected to return to court and take your place among the high ministers.

My talent and virtue are insufficient to place me among the ranks of officials, yet I have been fortunate enough to take part in the affairs of grain transport. Weary of the burdens of paperwork, I often dream of pines and chrysanthemums in the countryside. Once your new administration is in place, may an immortal crane accompany you and bring you joy, while your good name spreads far and wide. I received the letter you sent and feel deeply ashamed, for you were the first to write to me. You have not reproached me for my failings. I hope I may speak sincerely and offer what loyalty I can.

Letter Written on Behalf of Another in Reply to Supervising Registrar Li of Taizhou

I respectfully hear that the town you govern lies in a place of importance, its stars aligned with the Central Terrace, an ancient star official often used as a metaphor for a prominent post. The people, riding bamboo horses, filled the outskirts and swept the roads to welcome their new prefect. Your colleagues prepared provisions and came to greet an old friend after a long separation. I imagine that since taking office, you have brought your jurisdiction into good order and put its policies into effect.

Respectfully, you come from a distinguished family, like the immortal Li clan, and your reputation has spread far, like the sound of a celestial bell. Your eloquence flows on like the Yangtze, and your deep feeling never runs dry. You handle government affairs with ease, yet still have ample room to display your abilities. You cultivate yourself through gentleness, kindness, respect, and humility, so your work, too, is calm and composed. In your post as regional inspector, you have kept to a plain and restrained way of life, like one who does not crave crab; soon, news came that you would enter the court for an audience. Your memorials are presented to the throne and often receive approval the very same day. Now the army is well supplied with weapons: you have both put its affairs in order and defended against threats from beyond.

You have devoted yourself wholeheartedly: only recently you served at court and took charge of assessing officials’ achievements, then you requested a post in the provinces. You travel beneath a black canopy to Danqiu, your place of appointment. Before you have had time to bring local affairs fully into order, the people’s hardships have already eased. The season has not been unfavorable to the ripening of crops, the city has not been flooded, and the river runs peacefully. Five hundred camellias may serve as offerings at the stone bridge, while three thousand draft documents will soon be carried back to the Golden Horse Gate, the name of a Han-dynasty palace gate that here refers to the offices of the court.

I am about to go to Danqiu, yet do not know how to repay such kindness; I wish to return, but cannot. Whenever I recall the warm companionship we shared while serving at court, I regret that we did not meet sooner. To have now begun to receive your gracious care is truly a great good fortune. You have taught the people to raise two sows, showing that local customs have become balanced and harmonious. You have also sent me a pair of carp, and I am ashamed that I cannot repay you with words of equal beauty. I write these lines in haste, yet my heart remains full of longing.

Written on behalf of Secretariat Gentleman Chen in reply to a letter from Wuzhou.

I have heard with respect that you have received an appointment from the court, taken up duty handling official documents, and gone to Jiangcheng to serve as assistant prefect, where you will carry out government orders and administer the region. When you left the capital for your distant post, I had hoped to go to the outskirts to welcome you in my capacity as a subordinate official, but the distance kept me from making the journey. I have now sent a servant to fetch your letter, and you have also gone to the trouble of having someone deliver a letter to me from the capital.

From your letter, I have learned of your new plans for governing. It is clear that official affairs will proceed smoothly and the people will live in peace. I admire your exceptional learning and sound judgment in handling cases.

I heard that you had received the court’s favor and taken up a post in the Han palace, and that you had then gone to Jiangcheng to serve as assistant prefect, helping the prefect govern the region. You left your home for the sake of the people and traveled far to your post, so you could not welcome me outside the city when I arrived as an assistant prefectural official. I had a servant fetch your letter, which the relay station had kindly forwarded to the capital. From it I learned of your new appointment and can well imagine the distinction your administration will earn.

I admire your birth into a family of poetry and learning, and your preservation of the standards of a distinguished lineage. You once served as tutor to the emperor, like Zhang Liang in the old story, who visited an elder by night, picked up his shoe, and received instruction. You have also drawn inspiration from the finest landscapes, often composing poems and prose of great force. Wherever you have served, you have carried yourself with ease. In high office, you were invested with authority and commanded both military and civil affairs; even in a somewhat lesser post, you once directed the naval forces like Wan Fu. Now that the affairs of state are so urgent, how could the court not rely on outstanding talent? It is regrettable that your appointment seems less than fitting: for now, you serve only as an administrative aide to the prefect.

You once toured the three valleys of Mayuan and tasted qilin meat. Now you are to inherit the bearing of the Eight Seats of Wenchang, an honorific for high officials, and take your place among the court ranks like the egrets and spoonbills that symbolize its officials. My own abilities are modest, and I am truly unequal to the task. Though I travel about on duty, my heart has never left the court; even as I guard the dikes, I suffer from the turbulent tides of the Qiantang River. When I think of your resignation and request for an appointment outside the capital, refusing you would seem to slight your generous intentions; granting it, however, might seem to show disregard for the court and bury a worthy talent. Thinking of our native place, I can only remain silently sorrowful. You still cherish the wish to retire among pines and chrysanthemums, and in the end you may enjoy the quiet life of the countryside. I happened to delay sending my letter of congratulations; please forgive the lapse and offer me your guidance.

Reply on behalf of the Director Lin

Respectfully, the Han envoy has arrived by carriage, and I have taken the liberty of conveying the court’s solemn message. Being far from home, you cannot help feeling sorrow; yet you still cherish the wish to retire among pines and chrysanthemums, and in the end you may enjoy the spacious ease of country life. I happened to delay sending my letter of congratulations; please forgive the lapse and offer me your guidance.

Reply on behalf of the Director Lin

I respectfully say: You arrived by carriage as an envoy of the Han court, and graciously conveyed your earnest message. As soon as you entered the military headquarters, even men of distinction were willing to take a subordinate place beneath you. Posts such as that of “Zaoqiu” bring little more than toil, yet a talent as exceptional as yours was willing to come and assist me. You have traveled a long way to visit and brought a letter with you; I am sincerely grateful.

I admire your outstanding natural gifts and your swift, capable handling of government affairs. You have repeatedly earned praise for your excellent record, and are well suited to visit Zuoli, a place in the area of present-day Jiaxing, Zhejiang. With talents as distinguished as the noble stars of the Taiwei Enclosure, why not realize your ambitions in a post as a gentleman of the palace? For now, you may take charge of the military kitchens. I hope you will gradually display your abilities and soon rise to a prominent post. My own talents are meager and my virtue slight; I am scarcely fit to inspect local customs and govern a district, yet I too wish to honor the worthy. When an old friend arrives, matters naturally fall into place. Perhaps we can also reveal the skills hidden in our sleeves together—surely we are not to be scattered uselessly like coins on the ground? In time, you will have leisure to continue your Rhapsody on the Plum Blossoms of West Lake. To say that you might, like a native of Nanfeng, present fragrant petals in homage would perhaps be going too far. I look forward to your reply soon, so that we may talk at length.

Written on behalf of a reply to Liu, Assistant Prefect of Lin’an

I arrived as you departed, unable to keep you, my worthy aide, here. I hear that your virtue is outstanding and your reputation far-reaching, yet you seldom show attachment to the post you are leaving. I privately thank you for the fine work you have sent me. What more can I say?

I admire your rare talent, like that produced in the Phoenix Cave, and your beauty and distinction, like purple jade. You showed your abilities while still young, and earned office early through your excellent record. You also once climbed to enjoy the view and wrote fine lines continuing the poem on the jeweled curtain. You were selected to serve as an assistant in a county, and now you are set to advance in due course, joining the ranks of the court and taking your place at the morning audience.

I am old now. When military affairs arise, I am fortunate if I can still bring matters to a successful conclusion; I often find myself thinking of the lychees of my hometown. I have now urged preparations for your departure. Please do not forget our old friendship when the plum blossoms arrive at the riverside post station. Take good care of yourself in the summer heat. I hope soon to hear of your promotion and commendation.

The court sent him from the capital to serve as a local governor, with specific charge of administering a city. He spoke with the local elders to learn how the people had gone hungry because of the floods. Now all things are beginning to grow, and vitality is gradually returning. I respectfully consider Lord So-and-so to have much of his father’s character; in every office he has held, he has achieved good results. While serving in a military headquarters, he often exchanged stirring, impassioned poems with others. He also served at court, where he repeatedly offered outstanding views.

In Fuchuan Commandery, many lakes and marshes converge and floodwaters run unchecked. The people have yet to recover from famine, and there is also the garrison to provision. The court is deeply concerned and urgently needs a capable person to govern the region. To keep the people of Qingzhou alive, he personally secured supplies and transported grain; to develop Chixian, he worked with others to prepare equipment and build carts. So-and-so has been worn down by the melting of frost and snow and the turning of the seasons. Now that colleagues are helping one another from every side, the people under their jurisdiction are truly fortunate. Thanks to your hospitality, I have been able to stroll through the countryside at ease, riding a poor horse like Shaoyou. My resolve to retire has now become firm.

Written on Behalf of a Reply to Adviser Su

The emperor selected a Confucian official and appointed him from the court to serve elsewhere. He took up a post in the deliberative headquarters, and here he has seen the clouds reflected among tall buildings and painted beams. Your letter shows the affection shared between colleagues. I respectfully consider Lord So-and-so gentle and kind, steadfast in principle, and easygoing, with few ambitions. He could have reported his achievements to the court, yet was content to spend his time at leisure among the ancestral shrines. Since the countryside was open for travel, he invited an official from the Ministry of Works to go to Jiannan; since the frontier was not yet pacified, he brought the Xiongnu to submit at court. With a sound plan, things can be accomplished; even without an agreement in advance, people can arrive at the same understanding.

By chance, I was fortunate enough to complete my journey and return, and have already firmly asked to resign. If we regard those petty villains as no more than rats, why speak of how great the achievement was? Meeting the descendants of Shaogong, one may perhaps catch a glimpse of the institutions and writings left by the worthy men of old. The fighting had only just subsided, and I sent my thanks in haste; my return in gratitude is slight indeed.

Written on Behalf of a Reply to Zhao, Investigating Commissioner, on His Nomination

The five correspond to the heavenly number. I dare to accept the kindness of Zhao, Investigating Commissioner, in nominating me. A single word of praise is worth more than splendid court robes, and I hasten to submit this letter to express my gratitude. Your recommendation came from afar, and everyone who heard of it found it especially distinguished.

The five positions accorded with Heaven’s will, yet I presume to have invoked your axe-and-halberd-like authority. A single character granted by you is worth more than the court’s reward of an embroidered robe, so I hastened to submit a petition through the Public Carriage Office, earnestly asking you to recommend me. Such favor came from afar, and all who heard of it were astonished. I was deeply moved and have kept it in my heart; I set down these few words in brief.

In private, I believe that the path to office is often constrained by the systems of selection and transfer, and recommendations of talent give particular weight to one’s official rank and experience. Several requirements are difficult to surpass; even a delicacy like roasted osprey meat is beyond one’s reach. Writing a poem to recommend someone is like painting eyes on a dragon: it will soar into the sky. Those in low positions eagerly hope to be drawn forward, while those in high positions take pleasure in helping others succeed.

I consider myself only an insignificant young man, constrained by a minor post. Qingjiang’s clear waters and green hills have long been called a prosperous land, but now its green streams and red lotus blossoms have become a sea of suffering. Drought and locusts have struck one after another, and many people in the fields look gaunt from hunger. Transporting grain is extremely difficult, and few officials in the offices attend diligently to their duties. I am working hard at my post, yet I am also anxious to plan for my own future. Once an arrow strays from its mark, all the effort that came before is wasted; so for now I can only practice hitting a willow leaf and keep striving to advance. If I could refine the Nine-Turn Elixir, I would be transformed from within and without. For this reason, I am like someone licking the rim of a cauldron, longing for such an opportunity.

Spring has only just come to Mount Yugu, and the sacred image has appeared in full perfection within the pagoda. I am ignorant and unenlightened, like someone sitting at the bottom of a well—how could I claim to be clear and discerning? I am also like someone standing before a wall: how could I suddenly become open-minded and quick to understand? I have briefly described my circumstances to avoid criticism in official circles. How would I dare presume to receive excessive rewards and generous consideration? When I think of how thoughtfully you have understood and advanced me, I feel all the more ashamed.

Fortunate to encounter a man of your talent, fit to serve as a pillar of the state, I see that although you live among rivers and lakes, you still take the transmission of the Way and its moral principles as your responsibility, carrying forward the lineage of the sages across a thousand years. You discern the facts without complacency and do your utmost to fulfill the aspirations of gentlemen. Your reputation shines brighter amid the cultivation of ritual and music, and whenever you recognize a worthy person, you are sure to recommend him. A frail and insignificant person like me is truly unworthy of your seeking me out and recommending me. How could I not feel ashamed?

How could I fail to hold firm to my resolve and serve the public with integrity, in gratitude for your exceptionally generous kindness? May my bearing emulate the joy of a spring outing at the Apricot Grove, and may my name take on the fragrance of the examination rolls. Perhaps this will repay the support of you, my mentor, and bring comfort to my late father beneath the earth. Are others really closer than one’s own clan? Like a descendant of the Mao family, I have been fortunate enough to return to the Zhou royal house. You need not fear that I will stray from your instruction. I wish to follow disciples such as Li Xizhi and Huangfu Shi, who studied under Han Yu and never forsook their teacher’s tradition. My resolve is as steadfast as a vermilion gate; I am willing to have it tested beneath the bright sun.

I am deeply grateful for your kindness and generous regard. You befriended me and entered my name in your register. Then Lord Guangfan graciously wrote to recommend me, and the Embroidered-Robe Envoy put me forward. You raised me from beyond the clouds, thousands of miles away, and gathered the talented men of your household around you. Your kindness is profound, while my life and prospects are too slight to repay it. Gratitude wells up in me, and I cannot help but weep.

I privately believe that a candidate for office values above all the orderly advancement of his career, while a recommender values most the faithful performance of his duty. To meet all four conditions at once is difficult; to receive recommendations one after another is like receiving a succession of arrows that strike the tiger target. If one qualification is temporarily lacking and must await completion, one must surely strive to win the championship in the dragon-boat race. Without the protection of a vajra (a Buddhist ritual implement, here a metaphor for powerful support), how could the Jade Maiden’s basin (an object from an old tale) have held firm? When the moment is right, success comes as naturally as reaching out to take something.

When I consider myself, my natural gifts are meager, like a stunted tree. My abilities are ordinary, and my steps slow, like a lame horse trudging along. In my early years I served at a waterside administrative office, with little skill at first in drafting documents or handling affairs. Later, living in hardship and eating meager fare, I could only guard myself carefully and restrain my words and conduct. I looked up toward high office, hesitating and lingering; I paced around the three trees (the trees referred to in an old allusion), my heart uneasy.

Were there no compassionate people among those who entered office in the same year? I was especially favored by the Senior Duanming, an honorific for an official. Later, when I had to make my own way, I was still shown compassion and support by the Grand Chancellor. Just as news of my success arrived under a red banner, I was wearing festive clothes and raising a cup to wish my elders long life. I think of the Xun family, rich in talent like flourishing cassia branches, and of the men at Lord Yu’s gate, gathered like five auspicious clouds. What virtue or ability of mine could merit such favor? Your kindness comes in response to need and arrives as swiftly as an echo.

All this is because I have had the good fortune to serve under you, my lord. You aid the state like a skilled physician and uphold the court like a mighty pillar. Like Duke Wei returning after personally leading the troops, you enjoy harmony with your sovereign; like the Prince of Fenyang, Guo Ziyi, who held the title of Lord Chancellor, you have both parents living. Your spirit is in accord with the worthy men at court, and your authority commands respect in all four directions. You uphold the oath that the Yellow River may dwindle to the width of a sash, yet your resolve will not change; you also carry forward the flourishing image of the water fennel nourished by the Feng River in the “Major Odes: King Wen” section of the Book of Songs. You nurture talent with care, whether great or small, and entrust court officials and provincial officials alike with responsibilities suited to their abilities. Thus I, together with my peers, have been able to share in your favor and take part joyfully in the affairs of government.

How could I fail to hold fast to my purpose and look up to repay your great kindness? When judging the position of a distant minister, one should ask whether he remains true to the bonds of affection among parents, children, and siblings. If I take the people’s concerns as my own in serving the state, and ever fail in this, I willingly accept the condemnation of Heaven, Earth, and the spirits. Whatever you command, I will obey; even if I must pass through boiling water or tread through fire, I will not refuse.

Reply to Zhao, the Adjudicator, on the Congratulations on My Summons

I lack the ability to answer the emperor’s summons, and long ago gave up dreaming of winning rank and fame. Now that an order has been sent urging me to return, I am still honored with a birchwood torch to light my way. Thinking that Dongxia, the official post, has only just taken up his position, I had meant to decline and step aside, yet I cannot leave. On reflection, I owe this favor entirely to someone else’s kind words on my behalf. Before I could set out by carriage to express my gratitude, you had already sent me a poem of splendid beauty.

It was your encouragement to write that got me moving again. It is not that the mountains seem diminished when someone leaves them; how could I fail to feel ashamed at leaving the woods and turning my back on the streams? Though I faced a lotus-shaped torch at night, I could not express all I felt. Yet the news of spring had already slipped out, like willow branches turning green.

“I, the sovereign, do not abandon you”—I dare borrow these words to express my gratitude. As you see your guest off, please continue the lines about the green waves of Nanpu. I also hope to take this opportunity to state my feelings and ask to be sent off with the proper courtesies. The recommendation of worthy people must not be neglected; to care for them is to help them. For now, I offer this brief report; another day I will speak fully with you in person.

Reply to Assistant Prefect Zhao, Declining the Monthly Stipend from the Transport Office

I have handled documents beside the official desk and, thanks to your favor, received a generous stipend. I have also drafted documents in the administration, where I had the good fortune to follow in the footsteps of worthy predecessors. Drafting has exhausted my strength, yet the official seal and stipend have promptly been returned to my hands. Now I receive a salary without doing any farming. How could I fail to find a way to earn my living and support myself? Your gift was most considerate, but I find it difficult to accept it with an easy heart after declining it.

At first, it was illness that led me to ask that my stipend be reduced next year. If we are still speaking of the stipend, then accepting this money today would be improper. I would rather decline an elder’s gift, and thereby manage to uphold the integrity of a stubborn man. Please give a suitable reply on my behalf; no one is better placed than you.

I have already been treated generously during the festival and was able to buy wine and enjoy a good drink. You then took the trouble to send me sincere advice, but in the end I still wish to buy a mountain and live in seclusion. Please allow me to follow the result of the divination and offer my thanks for your generous gift another day.

Reply to Wang Xiangxian’s Gift of Poems

A lofty-minded man does not lower himself to manage the affairs of a temple over petty matters. De Gong, the person, rarely goes out and carefully observes the mourning rites for his teacher. As for me, after resigning several times, I have still been pressed to stay; you have even sent two poems to congratulate me. I know that I am old and dull, and truly do not deserve such praise.

Through the use of medicines, we have learned the principle of matching sovereign and minister ingredients. So it is only fitting to cherish friendship, as the poem “Felling Trees” says. We know one another well, and I trust neither of us would speak words that kick someone when they are down. I can stake the lives of my whole family on this: the time of Zhushan will surely come—the hardship or illness will pass, and circumstances will improve. Please be patient, and be generous in overlooking mistakes.

Reply to the Record Keeper Xiong of Chicheng Abbey

This is the title of a reply addressed to the record keeper surnamed Xiong at Chicheng Abbey.

Reply to Secretary Xiong of Chicheng Abbey

I have long admired the legendary immortal Mao’s travels through Chicheng, and I have long respected your noble conduct. You came to visit me like Yang Ziyun of the Han dynasty, seeking my advice on rare characters, and then unexpectedly honored me by arriving in your carriage. The literary brilliance of the essays tucked in your sleeve, and my delight at your visit, are beyond words.

I am weary of following scholars who sit the examinations; I would rather display my abilities like Yiliao, famed in antiquity for his skill in performance. My heart is steeped in the fragrance of books and classical writings, and I also know the pleasures of mountains, rivers, clouds, and mists beyond the concerns of ordinary life. Writing is merely a craft, and I put brush to paper as I please; the Daoist classics, including the Daode Jing, have long been committed to memory. When the time is right, I will enter public service; when the moon is full, I will set out.

Now that I have returned, your praise far exceeds my actual abilities. Gold and jade have their proper price, and I am ashamed not to be a connoisseur of precious things. You have broad ambitions and should choose a place suited to making your home and pursuing your career. Besides, you are still young; what matters most is to read widely.

Thanks to the Presented Visit of Scholar Nie

As the sun falls beneath the eaves, I fret over my graying temples. The guests gathered here were cheered by your arrival, and we were delighted to meet a scholar so quick of mind. You have kindly presented me with writing as fine as brocade; I can see that, like me, you delight in poetry and prose.

I have lived for a long time along the borderlands of the Huai, where warfare has yet to cease. Now I have suddenly returned to my native place, and the pines and chrysanthemums are still in the garden. Need we really come to hunger and freeze? Surely we can still be content with poverty and hold to a frugal life. I have no private matter to hide from you; it is simply hard to keep the white clouds on the mountain from drifting away. You might as well plan carefully: a fine future is to be found in books. I am humbled by my host’s gracious reception, and for now I will pour wine to welcome a visitor from my home country.

Reply to Supervisor Wang of the Palace Abbey on His Congratulations on My Summons

This is the title of a reply to Supervisor Wang of the Palace Abbey, thanking him for congratulating the author on receiving a summons.

After returning to the mountains, the recluse still held the post of chancellor. So someone was sent to Long to urge him back to his humble dwelling amid the turmoil. His promotion seemed as arbitrary as choosing an official by rolling dice; going to court to meet the ruler was like a macaque squeezing into a sack, awkward and constrained. He had happened to wash away the shame of living in seclusion in the valley, but may also have drawn mockery from others for taking a shortcut.

He offered me a poem, showing deep and admirable affection. I was about to clear the carriage and horses from my courtyard and send the men of worldly affairs away, but did not dare slight the guests at the table. I could only reply to this visitor, who had appeared like a guest star.

In talent, comparing him with Cao Zhi, courtesy name Zijian, whose literary gifts were said to be worth eight measures, would be an exaggeration. In stature, however, his nine-foot-four frame was more like that of Cao Jiao; perhaps the honors should go to him. We traveled east together by carriage, and I imagine he will be able to return to his former post.

“Guest star” refers to a star appearing as a visitor; here it is a metaphor for the person who came to visit. Cao Jiao is described in the Book of Mencius as a very tall man.