《唐玄宗御製道德真經疏(二)》

In his commentary on the Daode Jing, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explains: The so-called "Dao" refers to the fundamental truth of empty openness; the "Constant Dao" (Changdao) is the eternally quiescent ultimate reality. What people describe in words as the "speakable Dao" (Kedao) is merely provisional teaching—though it may be called Dao, it ultimately remains verbal expression with sound and form, not that eternally still ultimate truth. The true Constant Dao transcends language and conceptualization, mysteriously unfathomable. Only by going beyond the surface level of words and images can one realize that eternally authentic realm. Therefore, what can be spoken in words is never the eternal Dao.

Regarding the explanation of "name": The aforementioned "speakable Dao" emphasizes clarifying principles, while the "nameable" (Keming) discussed here focuses on teaching. The ultimate truth transcends words and forms, and the highest teaching also transcends sounds and speech. Since truth cannot be spoken, the names used in teaching are likewise not eternally fixed. This demonstrates that truth and teaching are neither identical nor separate. The supreme Dao is profoundly mysterious—neither existent nor nonexistent, neither ceasing nor permanent. The concept of "Constant Dao" is established precisely to dismantle people's attachment to the "speakable Dao." Yet when speaking of ultimate reality, even "speakable" and "unspeakable" must be transcended, as the Yujing Jing states: The ultimate truth is neither speakable nor conceivable, communicating with the realm of subtlety.

"The nameless" (Wuming) is the origin of heaven and earth. The Dao of emptiness gives birth to all things—heaven, earth, sun and moon all emerge from it. This nameless state is the root of all existence, requiring no further explanation. "The named" (Youming) manifests as the appearance of all things in transformation. The mysterious Dao originally has no name or form; only through evolution do various designations arise. Sages employ names to elucidate the nameless, guiding beings back to the source with motherly compassion, like nurturing children.

Only by maintaining a state of desirelessness can one contemplate the subtle marvel of the Dao. When a person reaches the ultimate emptiness and stillness, they can both introspect their own profundity and comprehend the subtlety of ultimate truth. By preserving this awakened awareness, one may observe the boundaries and manifestations of all things.

People often fail to maintain inner purity and wuwei (non-action), constantly being led astray by desires. Those who crave external objects and indulge their emotions only perceive the superficial existence of worldly phenomena, unable to comprehend that the essence of "being" is actually "emptiness." Thus they remain unaware of subtle truths, fixated solely on the appearances of the cycle of life and death. Earlier we discussed the distinction between "the nameless" and "the named"; here we further reveal the hierarchy between "having desires" and "being desireless."

"These two emerge together but differ in name" — though the objects of observation are the same, the wisdom levels of observers vary. Since the two modes of observation differ, their understanding of phenomena and essence naturally differs as well.

"Both can be called mysterious" — "mysterious" (xuan) implies profound depth and a state free from attachment to any single aspect. Both "being" and "non-being" originate from the same Dao. Emerging from one source yet named differently, these different names point to the same truth — this is called "profound." This profound mystery neither clings to "being" nor to "non-being," avoiding fixation on either extreme, hence its designation as "mysterious."

"Mystery upon mystery" — those attached to "being" remain trapped in "being," while those attached to "non-being" are confined by "non-being." Thus the first "mystery" is introduced to dissolve both attachments, yet fearing practitioners might cling to this concept of "mystery," the text adds "upon mystery" to eliminate this new fixation. Here one not only abandons "attachment" but even relinquishes the notion of "non-attachment," peeling away layers of fixation — hence "mystery upon mystery."

"The gateway to all wonders" — "gateway" (men) refers to spiritual methods. Earlier, the "Way of the One" was used to dissolve dualistic attachments; once both extremes are eliminated, even this "remedy" must be discarded. When both medicine and illness vanish simultaneously, this represents the ultimate subtlety, exhausting the principles of heaven and human nature. This is not only the wisdom-gate of sages but the supreme gateway to all wonders.

The chapter "All Under Heaven Know" states: "When all under heaven know beauty as beauty" — as the Yellow Emperor tells "Knowledge" in Zhuangzi's "Knowledge Wanders North": all things originally form one unity. People call what they prefer "divine wonder" and what they dislike "foul corruption."

"Long and short contrast each other" — from Zhuangzi's "Webbed Toes," like the natural differences between a duck's short legs and a crane's long legs.

"Therefore the sage" — sages are broadly categorized into five types: first are Dao-realized saints like the Supreme Laozi and other celestial sages; second are sage-kings who possessed worldly authority while attaining immortality, such as Fuxi, the Yellow Emperor, Zhuanxu, Shaohao, Yao, and Shun from ancient times.

The text discusses different levels of sagehood. The first type includes ruler-sages like King Tang of Shang, King Wen and King Wu of Zhou. Though they held imperial authority, they did not attain immortality through cultivation. Yet they pacified chaotic times without needing celestial ascension. The second type comprises cultural sages like the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, who established ritual and musical systems as eternal models. Though lacking imperial status, they embodied De (Virtue/Power) in harmony with heaven and earth.

The third category consists of specialist sages who reached pinnacle mastery in specific fields: Bo Ya and Shi Wen were peerless qin players; Zi Qing and Sui Ming were weiqi masters; Zhong Ziqi and Yan Zhou Jizi possessed extraordinary musical discernment; Han E and Qin Qing were singing virtuosos; Gong Shu and Wen Zhi excelled in mind-body cultivation; Li Zhu and Shi Kuang had superhuman sight and hearing; Zhang Zhi and Zhong Yao were cursive calligraphy geniuses. Each manifested supreme skill in their respective domain.

The text then explains the principle of "achieving merit without claiming it." True accomplishments take various forms: assisting royal enterprise is called xun (like the Duke of Zhou); preserving states constitutes gong (like Yi Yin); benefiting the people counts as yong (like Hou Ji); stabilizing nations qualifies as lao (like Yu the Great); establishing legal systems registers as ji (like Gao Yao); defeating enemies merits duo (like Han Xin). Most profound is "mysterious merit" (xuangong) that leaves no trace.

An ideal ruler should: avoid arbitrary emotions to prevent abusive punishments; curb excessive demands to lighten taxes; transcend personal biases to distinguish worthiness; shun petty men to surround himself with upright advisors; renounce territorial greed to prevent wars; refrain from disturbing people to maintain peace. As the Book of Songs describes, "dense and straight as hair" signifies meticulous temperament and unwavering integrity.

Finally, the text cites the Yijing's principle "clouds follow the dragon, winds follow the tiger" to illustrate how true worth needs no proclamation—like water naturally flowing downward. When the soaring dragon appears in heaven, all things spontaneously respond. This reveals the profound meaning of "not exalting the worthy" (bu shang xian): without forced veneration of talent, people won't compete for fame and gain.

This passage primarily discusses the phenomenon of mutual resonance among all things in nature, extending to the principles by which sages govern the world.

Fire always spreads toward dry areas, clouds invariably follow dragons, and winds naturally accompany tigers—all things respond to one another according to their kind. How much more so when an emperor ascends to the supreme throne (the Nine-Five position), drawing all nations to pay homage; or when a sage appears, and all creatures perceive their presence. What originates from heaven naturally inclines upward, while what stems from earth naturally tends downward. Take water, for instance: as a yin element, it flows across the land toward moist places. Fire, being yang, burns through kindling and inevitably seeks out dry material. Even these two insentient elements respond so perfectly through the resonance of their inherent Qi-natures.

The dragon, an aquatic creature, and clouds, the condensation of water vapor—when the dragon roars, auspicious clouds rise. The tiger, a ferocious beast, and wind, the vibration of air currents—when the tiger growls, mountain valleys stir with wind. If even these two sentient beings interact so profoundly, how much more magnificent must be the scene when a sage descends into the world as "the flying dragon in heaven" (symbolizing a sage-ruler in power), with virtuous sages cooperating harmoniously and all things resonating in mutual accord.

The text then cites examples from the eras of Yao and Shun: During Emperor Yao's reign, he was assisted by the "Eight Primes" (Bā Yuán) and "Eight Harmonious" (Bā Kǎi), groups of worthy ministers. When Yi Yin and Lü Shang served in court, they naturally attained the positions of chief ministers. Knowing his son Dan Zhu was unfit to rule, Yao extensively sought virtuous talents, eventually selecting Shun. After two years of observation—including marrying his two daughters to Shun to assess his character—Yao abdicated to him after seventy years of rule, living to 117 years old. Shun then reigned for fifty years before passing the throne to Yu due to his own son Shang Jun's inadequacy.

The passage also explains the "Eight Primes and Eight Harmonious": Gaoxin (Emperor Ku) had eight gifted sons known as the "Eight Primes" (Yuán meaning "benevolent"), while Gaoyang (Zhuanxu) had eight accomplished sons called the "Eight Harmonious" (Kǎi meaning "joyful harmony"). All were virtuous and talented ministers. Finally, Daoist tradition deifies Yao as the "True Lord of the Great Tenuity" (Tàiwēi Zhēnjūn) and Shun as the "True Lord of the Supreme Ultimate" (Tàijí Zhēnjūn), reflecting the tradition's apotheosis of sage-emperors.

This passage recounts the stories of virtuous ministers who assisted ancient rulers in governing the realm. It first mentions two groups of eight exemplary officials each—the "Eight Kai" and "Eight Yuan." "Kai" denotes gentle temperament, while "Yuan" signifies noble character. These sixteen worthies were descendants of the legendary rulers Gaoyang (Zhuanxu) and Gaoxin, inheriting their virtuous legacy across generations.

During Emperor Yao's reign, Shun was recommended as a minister. He appointed the "Eight Yuan" to propagate the Five Teachings (righteousness in fathers, kindness in mothers, friendliness in elder brothers, respect in younger brothers, and filial piety in sons) throughout the land, while entrusting the "Eight Kai" with land administration, bringing peace to the realm. Notable among them were:

• Xie (Qi), who served as Minister of Education, advocating benevolent governance
• Yu the Great, appointed Minister of Works, who tamed floods and regulated waterways
• Gao Yao (also called Jiu Yao), styled Tingjian, another distinguished official

The narrative then shifts to famous advisors of the Shang and Zhou periods:

• Yi Yin, born by the Yi River, assisted Tang of Shang in establishing his dynasty, with his descendant Yi She continuing to counsel rulers Tai Jia and Tai Wu
• Lü Shang (Jiang Ziya), who at over eighty years old met King Wen of Zhou while fishing at the Wei River, later helping establish the Zhou dynasty and receiving the fiefdom of Qi
• After the Duke of Zhou pacified the realm, Taigong Wang was entrusted with overseeing feudal lords and supporting the Zhou royal house

The account concludes with the Three Dukes (Grand Commandant, Minister of Education, and Minister of Works) and the Six Ministries system—positions symbolizing the Three Stars constellation (Santai), assisting the Son of Heaven in governance. Duke Huan of Qi (Xiao Bai) once led the feudal lords as hegemon, but by the late Spring and Autumn period, Tian He usurped control of Qi.

This passage primarily explains the correspondence between the Santai stars (six stars in ancient astrology symbolizing the Three Dukes of imperial courts) and human official positions, as well as the principles of governing the state and cultivating oneself.

The Santai constellation consists of six stars divided into upper, middle, and lower groups of two stars each, located south of the Ziwei star (symbolizing the emperor). Like royal guards, they surround the celestial throne. Stretching from the Wenchang star to the Taiwei Enclosure, they're called "Celestial Steps," corresponding to the Three Dukes, Nine Ministers, and common people in human society. When these stars shine brightly and maintain proper alignment, it signifies harmony between ruler and ministers with fair governance. The Santai stars span sixteen degrees, with half-degree spacing between each pair - any significant deviation from this spacing foretells misfortune.

The upper stars represent the Son of Heaven, the middle stars symbolize feudal lords and border tribes, while the lower stars correspond to high ministers. Bright and steady stars indicate good fortune, whereas trembling or discolored stars portend danger. Losing one star endangers the realm, losing two brings chaos, and losing all three makes the world ungovernable.

In human officialdom: The Grand Preceptor sets moral examples for all states, the Grand Mentor oversees ethical education, the Grand Protector safeguards the ruler's security, the Grand Commandant manages military affairs, the Minister of Education supervises cultural instruction, and the Minister of Works administers water projects. These Three Dukes mirror the celestial Santai stars. "Aheng" refers to relying on these ministers for balanced governance.

The text then quotes Zhuangzi (Daoist classic) to illustrate how greedy individuals harm their innate nature in pursuit of wealth and status. True reclusion doesn't mean dwelling in mountains, but maintaining inner purity - even amidst urban bustle, one stays detached from fame, profit, and worldly disputes.

Finally, it explains the historical compilation format of the Spring and Autumn Annals: recording events chronologically by year, season, month, and day. While the Son of Heaven maintained official historians, feudal states kept their own historical records - Chu's called "Taowu," Jin's titled "Sheng," and Lu's known as the Spring and Autumn Annals.

This passage records the chronological framework and significant events of the Spring and Autumn period. It begins by mentioning Confucius' compilation of the Spring and Autumn Annals (Chunqiu) and Zuo Qiuming's commentary, with records commencing from the 48th year of King Ping of Zhou (the 1st year of Duke Yin of Lu, corresponding to the celestial stem-branch year Dingsi). At that time, the planet Jupiter (Suixing) was positioned in the constellation Jianglou, while various feudal lords held power across the states: the 2nd year of Marquis E of Jin, the 13th year of Duke Huan of Wei (named Wan), the 28th year of Duke Xuan of Cai (named Kaofu), marking the beginning of the Spring and Autumn era.

This historical account spans 242 years until the 14th year of Duke Ai of Lu (the 39th year of King Jing of Zhou, celestial stem-branch year Wuwu), covering the reigns of 14 Zhou kings and 12 Lu rulers. The concluding records show the contemporary rulers: the 31st year of Duke Ding of Jin (named Wu), the 12th year of Duke Chu of Wei (named Zhe), etc. This final year became known as the "Capture of the Qilin" event (legend states Confucius ceased writing upon seeing this auspicious beast), marking the endpoint of the Spring and Autumn Annals.

The latter section details the Spring and Autumn Annals' structure: 30 scrolls totaling approximately 350,000 characters (190,000 main text with 150,000 commentary), notably mentioning the annotations by Du Yu (styled Yuankai), Jin's General Who Conquers the South. It then recounts an incident from the 28th year of Duke Zhao: Wei Xianzi (named Shu), Jin's chief minister, appointed his son Wei Wu as administrator of Gengyang (modern Jinyang). When Wei Wu encountered an unresolved legal case, the litigants attempted to bribe Wei Xianzi with female musicians. Wei Wu admonished his father, reminding him of his reputation for integrity. Two officials, Yan Mei and Ru Kuan, subtly cautioned Wei Xianzi during a meal by sighing thrice and quoting the proverb "only when eating can one forget worries," implying that accepting bribes would bring future troubles.

This passage conveys two main ideas: first, it illustrates the principle of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)" through historical anecdotes, and second, it explains the true meaning of "non-action."

The first part recounts a historical episode: Wu Zi of Wei (personal name Ke, posthumous title Wu) refused bribes from the Gengyang region. When someone sent food and wine to two servants, Wu Zi sighed three times, concerned about unequal distribution, and ultimately remarked that one should measure a gentleman's heart with ordinary standards, knowing when to stop. This story demonstrates that rulers must understand the importance of restraining desires.

The latter portion elaborates on the true essence of "non-action." Here, "non-action" doesn't mean complete inaction, but rather: acting without selfish motives or personal biases, following natural laws. Just as digging ponds in winter and ditches in summer, or cultivating fields according to terrain—these are all actions in harmony with nature, embodying "non-action."

True "governing through non-action" means: the ruler follows cosmic patterns, aligns with the people's will, and lets ministers fulfill their capacities. Both the virtuous and ordinary find their proper places, while the ruler needn't micromanage—this constitutes the "Way of non-action" in statecraft.

Finally, it references the Yi Jing (Classic of Changes) statement "The Emperor emerges from Zhen (the Thunder trigram)." Zhen represents the east, symbolizing the beginning of all growth. This principle is likened to the crown prince residing in the Eastern Palace (position of the east), representing the nation's future vitality.

This passage presents Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary on the Daode Jing, explaining several key chapters.

Regarding "heaven and earth giving birth to all things in the beginning," it describes how at the dawn of creation, Yang Qi ascends to form the Zhen trigram (one of the Eight Trigrams/Bagua, representing thunder), marking the inception of all growth. The first visible manifestations are called "images," while formless existence is termed "Qi" (vital energy) - both being fundamental sources of creation. The Dao (the Way), the cosmic principle, existed even before these phenomena, demonstrating its supreme profundity.

Chapter Five's reference to "treating all things as straw dogs" uses sacrificial straw effigies as a metaphor. Both Zhuangzi·Heavenly Movement and Book of Rites·Tan Gong record related anecdotes. When Confucius' dog died, he instructed his disciple Zigong to bury it with a mat beneath its head to prevent direct contact with earth, embodying benevolent compassion.

Chapter Seven's "the sage places himself last and remains external" illustrates through historical examples: smashing precious amber pillows, burning magnificent pheasant-feather robes, halting extravagant tower constructions, and returning thousand-mile steeds - such frugal actions allow virtue to endure through generations.

The "highest goodness resembles water" in Chapter Eight mentions "governing with excellence," citing a story from Zhuangzi·Tian Zifang: Marquis Wen of Wei mistakenly thought Xi Gong was Tian Zifang's teacher, when in truth it was Dongguo Shunzi. This master appeared ordinary but maintained inner emptiness and stillness, embracing all existence. When encountering unprincipled conduct, he would simply adjust his demeanor to prompt self-reflection, naturally dissolving others' improper thoughts.

Finally, it emphasizes the paramount importance of the "non-contention" virtue. It enumerates common human conflicts: violence, arrogance, anger, extravagance, boastfulness, competitiveness, disobedience, ambition, alternating courage and timidity, love and hatred, tyranny, and favor-seeking. Whether ruler or noble, indulging in any such contentious mindset inevitably leads to warfare.

This scripture employs two historical parables to warn that insatiable greed inevitably invites calamity. When Emperor Xuanzong of Tang annotated the Daode Jing, he observed that whether officials or commoners, those who indulge desires and disregard ritual propriety invite chaos. Corrupt officials ruin their clans, while greedy commoners endanger themselves—all misfortunes stemming from thoughtlessness, ritual transgression, lack of reverence, and inability to restrain.

Two illustrative examples follow: First, elephants are hunted for their precious tusks; second, a rooster bites off its own tail to escape sacrificial selection. During the Spring and Autumn period, Fan Xuanzi, a Jin state minister, imposed heavier tributes on vassal states. Zheng's statesman Zichan admonished by letter: "Hoarding wealth breeds rebellion, while virtue forms a state's foundation." Persuaded, Fan reduced the levies. Another tale tells of a rooster under King Jing of Zhou that gnawed off its tail to avoid ritual sacrifice—since unblemished specimens were required for offerings.

The text culminates by echoing the Daode Jing's teaching: "A house full of gold and jade cannot be guarded." Excessive accumulation begets disaster. The elephant dies for its tusks, the rooster mutilates to survive—both revealing greed's peril. True wisdom recognizes non-attachment as the real treasure. Those obsessively amassing wealth ultimately court destruction, like moths drawn to flame.

Even chickens know to protect their own bodies, let alone humans? If one forgets their own safety while coveting profit, they are inferior even to chickens. A man from Zheng obtained a precious jade and wished to present it to Zihan (a virtuous minister of Zheng during the Spring and Autumn period), saying, "This is a treasure, and I wish to offer it to you." Zihan replied, "You regard the jade as a treasure, but I regard non-greed as my treasure. If I were to accept your jade, both of us would lose our respective treasures. It is better for each of us to preserve our own." In the end, he did not accept the jade.

The hexagram "Xie" (解) in the Book of Changes, line nine-three, states: "Carrying goods while riding in an ornate carriage invites robbers." Carrying burdens is the work of petty men, while riding in a fine carriage is the privilege of noble men. Such a mismatch in status invites disaster. It is like a petty man occupying a high position—this inevitably attracts thieves who will plunder him.

What is called "achieving merit and fame" refers to the ability to ward off calamities, which is called "merit," and attaining wealth, honor, and glory, which is called "fame." But just as when high-flying birds are all hunted down, the fine bows are stored away, and when cunning hares are killed, the hunting dogs are cooked—this is the nature of circumstances. Fan Li (a strategist of Yue) escaped disaster by sailing away in a small boat, while Wen Zhong (another strategist of Yue) clung to power and met his demise—this illustrates the principle. When the sun reaches its zenith, it begins to decline; when the moon is full, it begins to wane. Zhang Liang (a strategist of the early Han dynasty) relinquished his noble rank to wander freely, and Shu Guang (a Han dynasty official) resigned from office to retire in seclusion. Thus, they avoided the tragic fates of Li Si (the Qin dynasty chancellor) in Shangcai or Lu Ji (a Western Jin dynasty writer) in Huating, who met with irreversible regrets.

Regarding the chapter on "bearing the hun and po" (载营魄), the Spring and Autumn Annals records Zichan (a renowned minister of Zheng) saying: "The spirit of a person immediately after death is called the po." In the seventh year of Duke Zhao, Bo You of Zheng was in power but was killed by Si Dai. Later, the people of Zheng frightened one another by saying, "Bo You has come!" Some even dreamed of Bo You fully armed, declaring, "On the day of Renzi, I will kill Si Dai." The following year, Si Dai indeed died on the day of Renzi, and soon after, Gongsun Duan also died. Someone asked Zichan, "Can Bo You truly become a ghost?" Zichan explained: When people are alive, they have the yin po and the yang hun. The more offerings they receive, the stronger their hun and po become. Even ordinary men and women who die untimely deaths can have their hun and po attach to living people to cause disturbances—how much more so for Bo You, whose family held power for three generations? Is it not reasonable that he became a powerful ghost after death? Bo You was a descendant of Duke Mu, grandson of Ziliang, and son of Zi’er—hence the reference to "three generations." Zichan established Bo You’s son, Liang Zhi, to pacify the restless spirit, and the disturbances ceased.

The Zhuangzi·Discourse on the Equality of Things states: "A dying mind cannot be revived." Daoist teachings hold that humans have three hun: Taiguang (governing life), Shuangling (governing wisdom), and Youjing (governing desires); and seven po: Shigou (vigilance), Fushi (excretion), Queyin (reproduction), Tunzei (detoxification), Chuhui (cleansing), Choufei (respiration), and Feidu (expelling toxins). These concepts originate from the Shangqing (Highest Clarity) scriptures.

Regarding "loving the people and governing the state," the true way of governance lies in caring for the people. Just as nurturing the body requires harmonizing qi (vital energy), governing the state requires aligning with the people’s hearts. Sages do not rely on harsh laws but instead use the Dao and De (Virtue) to educate, guiding the people naturally toward goodness. This is like the movement of heaven and earth, which does not require force—the myriad things grow naturally. The sun and moon do not need urging—day and night alternate of their own accord.

The people are the foundation of the state, and governing through Wuwei (non-action) embodies the Dao (the Way). Nurturing the populace through non-coercive means ensures the stability of a nation's roots. Harsh decrees constitute tyranny, while excessive taxes and corvée labor damage the people's inherent nature. Conscripting labor during farming seasons disrupts agriculture, and neglecting frugality leads to grain wastage.

The opening and closing of the celestial gate symbolize the rise and fall of dynasties. A sage ruler governs the state with reverence for the Mandate of Heaven, even after ascending the throne. The "sequence of cycles" refers to the patterns of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). As Emperor Shun said when abdicating to Yu: "The Mandate of Heaven now rests upon you." This illustrates that only by aligning with Heaven's will can sovereignty endure. The Book of Changes states that the sage's greatest treasure is his position. When the celestial gate opens, auspicious signs manifest: yellow stars shine, crimson Fulu (talismans) appear, purple Qi (vital energy) fills the palace, the five planets converge in the Well constellation, rainbows cross the moon, lightning encircles the Northern Dipper, and sacred beings descend from mountains to assist virtuous rulers. Only by harmonizing with Heaven's will and relieving suffering can one inherit the Mandate and rule the land. Conversely, misrule and unjust punishments lead to rebellion and chaos, reflected in celestial omens—falling stars, collapsing mountains, and dried-up rivers—ultimately causing dynastic collapse. This cyclical transformation mirrors the Book of Changes principle of Yin-Yang alternation, where fortune and misfortune intertwine.

The Thirty Spokes Chapter explains how Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) form the foundation of the Book of Changes. The Great Commentary clarifies that without these two trigrams, the Yi Dao (the Way of Change) would not exist. Just as thirty spokes unite at a single hub (Zhuangzi describes this as the interdependence of all things), clay forms vessels (the Book of Documents records Emperor Shun crafting pottery by the Yellow River in his youth), and doors and windows create functional space in a house (the Book of Songs depicts Zhou-era pit dwellings, while Zhuangzi warns that cramped quarters breed discord). These examples illustrate the dynamic interplay between emptiness and substance.

This passage primarily elucidates two key aspects. The first part describes the living conditions of ancient Gong Danfu (grandfather of King Wen of Zhou) in the Bin region. People dwelled in crude earthen caves, lacking proper housing. Quoting from the Outer Chapters of the Zhuangzi, it illustrates how cramped living spaces and congested pathways breed conflict, which contradicts the harmonious Dao (the Way) that should govern human relations.

The second part expounds on the relationship between "being" (you, concrete existence) and "non-being" (wu, formless Dao). While "being" provides practical conveniences, it is "non-being"—the formless Dao—that serves as the fundamental source of efficacy. This distinguishes between metaphysical Dao (the transcendent Way) and physical "vessels" (qi, concrete objects): Dao is formless and exists at a higher level, while vessels possess form and substance at a lower level. All things emerge from "non-being" and depend on Dao for their existence. The sages emulate Dao's function by creating various implements—boats and oars, mortars and pestles, bows and arrows, palaces and houses—all representing the concrete manifestation of Dao's utility in material form.

The final section interprets Chapter 12 of the Daode Jing concerning the perils of sensory indulgence. The five colors (blue, red, yellow, white, black) dazzle the eyes; the five tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu in Chinese musical notation) deafen the ears; the five flavors dull the palate. It elaborates on the five tones: the gong tone represents central harmony, symbolizing sovereign virtue; shang signifies manifestation, indicating maturity; jue denotes sprouting, representing growth; zhi embodies flourishing, symbolizing expansion; while yu suggests gathering, representing return and storage. The five colors are explained through dyeing examples—undyed silk turns blue when dyed with indigo, red with cinnabar, yellow with amur cork tree, and black with black dye—thus forming the spectrum of five colors.

The colorful decorations were originally meant to symbolize the Five Phases (Wuxing) of Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth, serving as adornments that distinguished noble ranks. The arrangement of musical tones was intended to harmonize the Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth, expressing the sounds of the Five Phases. The five flavors—sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty—were established to manifest the Dao of balancing the Five Phases for nourishing the body. Yet, when people become overly indulgent in these sensory pleasures, they fall into the trap described in the Daodejing: "The five colors blind the eyes, the five tones deafen the ears, the five flavors dull the palate."

History records calamities sparked by the pursuit of delicacies. One such disaster arose from mutton soup. During the Spring and Autumn period, the Zheng noble Gongzi Guisheng, under orders from the King of Chu, attacked Song. The Song generals Hua Yuan and Yue Lü led their troops in defense. Before the battle, Hua Yuan slaughtered sheep to feast his soldiers but neglected his own charioteer, Yang Zhen. When the battle commenced, Yang Zhen, resentful, declared, "Yesterday, you decided who got the mutton—today, I decide where this chariot goes!" Deliberately driving into enemy lines, he caused Song’s crushing defeat. Later, Song paid heavily to ransom Hua Yuan, while Yang Zhen fled to Lu. The noble-minded condemned Yang Zhen as inhuman, sacrificing his country for personal spite.

Another tragedy unfolded over turtle soup. When a Chu envoy presented a giant turtle to Duke Ling of Zheng, Gongzi Song (styled Zigong) and Gongzi Guisheng (styled Zijia) were entering the palace. Zigong’s forefinger suddenly twitched, and he told Zijia, "Whenever my finger moves like this, I’m about to taste rare delicacies." Inside, they saw the cook butchering the turtle and exchanged knowing smiles. When Duke Ling asked why, Zijia explained truthfully. Later, at a banquet for his ministers, the duke spitefully withheld turtle soup from Zigong. Enraged, Zigong dipped his finger into the cauldron, tasted the soup, and stormed off. The furious duke plotted to kill him—only to be assassinated first by Zigong and Zijia. The Annals record: "Gongzi Guisheng of Zheng murdered his ruler, Yi." The root of this regicide? A bowl of turtle soup.

These stories illustrate how excessive pursuit of sensory pleasures invites disaster. As the Book of Songs laments in Xiaoya: "When a man lacks virtue," it speaks of those like Yang Zhen, who harm multitudes for selfish desires.

This passage addresses two main subjects: the political ethics of relations between ruler and minister, and the ritual rules governing the hunt, an activity undertaken by ancient emperors and feudal lords.

The first part criticizes Zigong, a minister of the state of Zheng during the Spring and Autumn period, for taking part in regicide out of fear of slander. It argues that a true gentleman should combine benevolence with courage. Zigong had a compassionate nature, as shown by his care for the elderly, but lacked the force to deter wrongdoing because he did not punish rebels. In the end, he earned the infamy of having killed his ruler. The trouble had begun with Zigong’s pursuit of private gain: the allusion to “dipping a finger” comes from his secretly tasting turtle soup, which sparked a dispute.

The second part explains the ritual rules for the hunt in detail. In ancient times, the Son of Heaven and the feudal lords hunted three times a year. The first catch was used for ancestral sacrifices, the second to entertain guests and strengthen relations between states, and the third to supply the court kitchens. Hunts had to follow the seasons: in spring, game was searched for (sou); in summer, crops were protected (miao); in autumn, animals were hunted (xian); and in winter, they were surrounded and captured (shou). Hunting was also to avoid the busy farming seasons. Specific prohibitions were laid down: no nets were to be cast in rivers before otters began offering fish in sacrifice; no traps were to be set in the wild before jackals began offering animals in sacrifice; and no nets were to be strung in the woods before hawks and falcons migrated. These rules express the “benevolence of the three drives”—the hunting ritual of leaving one side open—and the principle of following the seasons.

The passage especially condemns cruel behavior that violates ritual: becoming so absorbed in hunting that one stays away for a hundred days, racing about without pause in chariots and on horseback like a madman. Such conduct stirs up public resentment and puts the state in danger. It concludes that a ruler should take wisdom and sagacity as his guiding principle and govern through purity and Wuwei (non-action). To chase wild beasts without restraint and flaunt one’s martial prowess until the sun and moon seem dim and the banners fall into disarray, while neglecting the palace and affairs of state for a long time, is true madness.

Note: “the natural divisions” (tian ni), a term from Zhuangzi, refers to the boundaries found in nature. Like a circle with no identifiable beginning or end, it conveys a state of natural balance.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang used historical allusions to elucidate the principles of governance in his commentary on the Dao De Jing. This passage conveys three key teachings:

First, it warns against rulers coveting exotic treasures from distant lands and expanding territories pointlessly. The commentary cites Emperor Wu of Han who launched military campaigns against the Western Rong tribes merely to obtain a condiment called jujiang from the southwest, and waged wars against the Dayuan kingdom solely to seize their famed horses. These expeditions resulted in countless soldiers' bones bleaching on distant battlefields, families torn apart, a sharp decline in population, and even the imperial ancestral temples nearly falling to enemy forces. Such historical lessons, duly recorded in official annals, should serve as solemn warnings.

Next, it explains the principle that "favor and disgrace equally perturb." Though a ruler possesses all under heaven, he should tread as if on thin ice; though a minister holds high office, he must act with caution. The commentary illustrates this with two examples: the Chu prime minister who bore no resentment after being dismissed three times, and Confucius' ancestor Zheng Kaofu (a Song official) who became increasingly humble with each promotion. Such conduct demonstrates true wisdom in handling worldly affairs.

Finally, it expounds the warning that "great calamity seems as close as one's body." During the Spring and Autumn period, Prince Zhouyu of Wei grew arrogant and bellicose due to his father's excessive favor. Minister Shi Que admonished: "To spoil children without proper guidance breeds arrogance, luxury, and dissipation." Indeed, Zhouyu later assassinated his ruler and usurped the throne, only to meet a violent end himself—a classic case of favor breeding disaster.

When interpreting the chapter on "looking but not seeing," the commentary explains that the three terms "yi" (even), "xi" (rare), and "wei" (subtle) describe the ineffable nature of the Dao. These correspond to various triadic cosmological concepts: the Three Pure Realms (Sanqing, the highest Daoist heavens), the Three Realms (celestial, terrestrial, and aquatic), the Three Powers (heaven-earth-humanity), and the Three Luminaries (sun-moon-stars)—all representing differentiated manifestations of the Dao's operation. Among these, the Three Pure Realms are formed through the coalescence of three primordial Qi (vital energies)—Xuan (Mystery), Yuan (Origin), and Shi (Beginning)—constituting the very source of all cosmic phenomena.

This passage primarily expounds on the Daoist cosmological framework of the Three Realms (Desire Realm, Form Realm, and Formless Realm) and the essential techniques for bodily cultivation, while simultaneously critiquing the detrimental consequences of worldly indulgence in desires.

The text first explains the Three Realms structure: The Desire Realm contains six celestial layers governing the Nine Immortals, the Form Realm comprises eighteen celestial layers overseeing the Nine Perfected (those who have attained the Dao), and the Formless Realm consists of four celestial layers presiding over the Nine Sages (the highest tier of enlightened beings). Within the human body, these correspond to three vital centers: the Niwan Palace (Upper Dantian) in the brain governs the Upper Primordial, the Crimson Palace (Middle Dantian) in the heart commands the Middle Primordial, and the Dantian below the navel (Lower Dantian) regulates the Lower Primordial. These three centers are respectively governed by three primordial spirits—Original Unity (Yuanyi), True Unity (Zhenyi), and Orthodox Unity (Zhengyi)—which collectively maintain the equilibrium of Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), thereby preserving physical vitality. The Shangqing (Highest Clarity) tradition's cultivation method of "Cycling Winds and Blending Harmony" precisely involves harmonizing these three aspects to cultivate the Dao.

The passage then critiques contemporary indulgence in desires: Modern people easily become deluded by external phenomena, with various cravings rising like swirling mists and swarming bees. Individuals compete for fame and profit, coveting wealth and pleasure—some slaughter animals for amusement, while others indulge in carnal desires that harm both self and others. This resembles plunging into the river of lust to drift with the current, drowning in the waves of desire with no return. Such behavior not only brings winter-ice-like torment but also invites manifest retribution: profit-seekers undertaking distant ventures encounter disasters by land and water; oppressors provoke lawsuits; those deceiving rulers court familial ruin; and tyrants incite vengeful rebellions. How much worse, then, are the consequences for those committing greater evils like harming life or endangering nations?

Finally, various cultivation methods are introduced: The paths to Dao cultivation are manifold, primarily including inhaling primordial Qi, ingesting cloud-liquid (nectar), consuming pine and cypress, grain avoidance with mushroom diets; or dwelling in the Shangqing celestial realm to observe the Northern Dipper constellations; or refining the Five Metals and Eight Minerals, aqueous jades and flowing pearls; conducting nine-cycle alchemical transformations through yin-yang crucible fires; or employing Fulu (talismans) to summon spirits, using golden clasps and azure threads (ritual implements) to establish covenants with heaven and earth. These methods encompass the Zhengyi Covenant Authority tradition, Dao-De Jing practices, the Shengxuan school, Dongzhen (Cavern of Perfection) tradition, Lingbao (Numinous Treasure) school, and Sanqing (Three Pure Ones) methods—all capable of elevating practitioners beyond the mundane.

Advanced techniques include: Visualizing the sun and moon's radiance, venerating the Five Planets, and observing the Dipper; practicing "Eight Paths of Cloud-Gazing" (meteorological divination) and "Nine Perfected Mandates" (receiving immortal guidance); swallowing solar-lunar essences to control hun and po (ethereal and corporeal souls); cultivating the Shengxuan Dipper-Recumbent method (a visualization technique), visualizing the Left and Right Numinous Flight (internal deities) in the "Cavern Chamber" (another name for Upper Dantian), harmonizing yin-yang and the Six Jia spirits (stem-branch deities), contemplating the Three Regions and Eight Scenes' Twenty-Four True Ones (body deities), and ingesting the Three Primes (Jing-Qi-Shen) with focused visualization.

This passage records several important Daoist cultivation methods mentioned by Emperor Xuanzong of Tang when annotating the Daode Jing. The phrase "Three Ones: Purple Chamber, Yellow Gate, Crimson Radiance and Vermilion Infant" refers to three vital areas in the human body (the upper, middle, and lower Dantian) with their corresponding color symbolism. The "Purple Chamber" denotes the upper Dantian (head), the "Yellow Gate" represents the middle Dantian (heart region), while "Crimson Radiance and Vermilion Infant" indicate the lower Dantian (abdomen).

"Scriptures of Purple Void from Southern Peaks" and "Eastern Sea's Secrets Transmitted by the Azure Lad" are titles of two significant Daoist texts. The former discusses cultivation methods associated with southern mountains, while the latter contains esoteric instructions said to be transmitted by an immortal youth from the Eastern Sea. These classics document various practices such as "inner observation of the five viscera" (visualizing internal organs through meditation), "subduing the six celestial evils" (controlling six pathogenic Qi influences), "Daoyin" (physical exercises coordinated with breathwork), "talisman ingestion" (consuming empowered water with inscribed charms), "riding the wind" (harnessing natural Qi currents), "nourishing Qi" (cultivating vital energy), and "ascension" (achieving immortality through flight).

When annotating the first chapter of the Daode Jing, Emperor Xuanzong particularly emphasized how these essential cultivation techniques are all embedded within the profound meaning of the True Scripture (referring to the Daode Jing itself). These methods exemplify the Daoist cultivation system that seeks longevity and transcendence through both physical and spiritual refinement.

This passage contains two main sections: first, an account of the military conflicts between the State of Chu and the States of Zheng and Jin during the Spring and Autumn period; second, an explanation of the "Fu Hexagram" from the Yijing (Book of Changes).

The military narrative begins with King Zhuang of Chu besieging the capital of Zheng for seventeen days. When the Zheng people divined about suing for peace, the omens proved inauspicious, plunging the entire city into mourning. After the Chu army temporarily withdrew, the Zheng people hurriedly repaired their city walls—only for the Chu forces to return and lay siege for three months, ultimately breaching the defenses. The Duke of Zheng surrendered by baring his upper body and leading a sheep in submission, after which the Chu king agreed to make peace. Later, when Jin sent troops to aid Zheng, the two armies faced off between Mount Ao and Mount Qiao. The Chu forces dispatched three warriors—Xu Bo, Le Bo, and She Shu—to challenge the Jin army individually, each performing according to their personal understanding of ritualized combat: Xu Bo charged through enemy banners before retreating; Le Bo shot arrows left-handed while driving his chariot right-handed before withdrawing; She Shu penetrated the enemy camp to slay foes before returning. When Jin troops pursued them, Le Bo fended off the attackers with his ambidextrous archery. Meanwhile, internal discord plagued the Jin command—commanders Wei Qi and Zhao Zhan harbored personal grievances and secretly hoped for their own army's defeat, ultimately contributing to Jin's disastrous defeat at the Battle of Bi.

The second section interprets the "Fu Hexagram" (Earth over Thunder) from the Yijing. This hexagram symbolizes thunder hidden beneath the earth, representing the initial resurgence of Yang Qi (vital energy). Ancient kings would close city gates on the winter solstice, suspend commercial activities, and abstain from governance to align with nature's rhythm as Yang energy began its cyclical renewal. The passage also references the Heng Hexagram's teaching about "inconstancy in virtue," along with historical allusions to the "Three Sage Kings" (Yu of Xia, Tang of Shang, and King Wen of Zhou) and the "Five Hegemons" of the Spring and Autumn period (including Kunwu of Xia, Dapeng and Shiwei of Shang, and Duke Huan of Qi under the Zhou).

During the reigns of King Hui and King Xiang of Zhou, Duke Wen of Jin (named Chong'er, son of Duke Xian of Jin) ascended the throne in the 22nd year of Duke Xi's era. He had previously been exiled in the 4th year of Duke Xi to escape the chaos caused by Consort Li. This historical episode illustrates how when rulers lack integrity, the people naturally lose trust in them.

As recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals: When the King of Chu attacked Zheng and reached the territory of Li, Zheng's minister Ziliang remarked, "Neither Jin nor Chu cultivates virtuous governance (De). Why not submit to the aggressor? Since both lack credibility, why should we uphold trust?" Consequently, Zheng formed an alliance with Chu at Chenling, and both Chen and Zheng submitted to Chu. This exemplifies the principle that "when those above lack sincerity, those below will abandon trust."

(Explaining the chapter on "the great Dao (the Way) being abandoned") As the Huainanzi states: Counting grains to cook rice or meticulously combing hair may seem precise but are ultimately futile. It is like scratching one's back with a knee or untying a knot with one's heel—an inversion of priorities.

(Explaining "when family bonds weaken, filial piety arises") Consider the Han Dynasty filial son Huang Xiang, who fanned his mother's pillow in summer and warmed her bedding in winter. Or the Song Dynasty's Zhi Bao, who lost his father at three. Whenever he saw his uncles, he wept. His mother thought he was afraid, but he explained it was grief for his late father. Mother and son embraced in shared sorrow, and Zhi Bao served his mother with equal devotion.

(Explaining "when the state falls into chaos, loyal ministers appear") To remonstrate boldly is loyalty; to flatter is sycophancy. A ruler who lacks clarity is "benighted," and disordered governance is "chaos." The Book of Songs states, "With many accomplished scholars, King Wen found peace," just as Emperor Shun's ministers Kui (overseeing rites and music) and Long (communicating decrees) each fulfilled their roles, bringing clarity to governance.

(Explaining the chapter "abandon sageliness and discard cunning") Consider the Wei craftsman who wasted time carving a monkey from a date pit, or the Song artisan who meticulously shaped a mulberry leaf (metaphors for pursuing useless skills). Such practices should be discarded.

(Explaining the chapter "abandon learning and be free from sorrow") The Book of Songs phrase "the night is not yet half over" describes an endless night, symbolizing how worldly knowledge resembles an endless maze.

This passage primarily explains the meaning of "牢" (sacrificial animals) in ancient ritual ceremonies and its hierarchical usage standards. The term "牢" refers to livestock used in sacrifices, categorized according to rank as Grand Sacrifice (taillao, using oxen), Middle Sacrifice (zhonglao, using sheep), and Lesser Sacrifice (shaolao, using pigs). For imperial sacrifices, uniformly colored oxen were required; feudal lords used well-fed sheep, while officials employed ordinary oxen—all of which had to be specially raised in designated enclosures for three months beforehand.

The text cites the Book of Rites (Liji) which records that the Son of Heaven would never slaughter oxen without proper cause, nor would officials kill dogs or pigs without reason, as these animals were reserved exclusively for sacrificial purposes. The character "牢" originally denotes a sturdy, four-walled enclosure for livestock. References from Zhuangzi and the School Sayings of Confucius (Kongzi Jiayu) are also provided to illustrate infant development: at three months babies gain sight, at eight months they grow teeth, at one year they can walk, and by three years they begin to speak.

The concluding phrase "曲则全，枉则直" (qu ze quan, wang ze zhi) originates from the Dao De Jing, meaning "to yield is to be preserved whole, to bend is to become straight"—expressing the Daoist wisdom of overcoming hardness through softness in worldly affairs. This commentary uses sacrificial systems to elucidate ancient hierarchical rituals while extending into the Daoist philosophical concept of harmonious adaptation through yielding.

The passage presents two main themes: the first half illustrates the importance of integrity and benevolent virtue through historical anecdotes, while the second half employs natural phenomena to demonstrate the principle of "like attracts like" (同气相求).

The opening section recounts the story of Han Jue, a senior minister of the Jin State during the Spring and Autumn period, who sought to retire and pass his noble title to his physically disabled son Wu Ji. Wu Ji modestly declined by quoting the Book of Songs: "It's not that I don't wish to be diligent day and night, but I fear the heavy dew upon the path," and "If one doesn't personally attend to affairs, the people will not trust him." He continued: "Lacking such capability, how could I accept this position? Please appoint my younger brother Han Qi instead." Later, when Han Qi associated with the virtuous Tian Su, Tian praised him as "one who cherishes righteousness." The Book of Songs states: "Reverently attend to your duties, love the upright Dao (Way), and the spirits will hear and grant you great blessings." Compassion for the people constitutes De (Virtue), integrity represents correctness, and only by first rectifying oneself can one rectify others. One who embodies these three qualities may be called truly benevolent. As predicted, Han Qi inherited the title, while Duke of Jin, recognizing Han Wu Ji's virtue, appointed him as Chief Minister of the Ducal Clan.

The latter half employs natural analogies to reveal the principle of "resonance between like kinds": When a musical instrument plays the gong (宫) note, other gong-tuned instruments vibrate in response; withered mulberry trees trembling foretell strong winds; dampness appearing on stone foundations heralds approaching summer rains. A dragon's roar summons clouds, while a tiger's growl stirs the wind. The collapse of a copper mountain makes bronze bells ring, gaps in reed ash correlate with lunar halos breaking, and a crane's cry draws answering calls from its kind. Families accumulating good deeds will enjoy lasting blessings, while those accumulating evil will suffer inevitable calamity. Though from different lands, those sharing a boat unite their efforts—just as water flows to moist places and fire seeks dry tinder. Noble minds remain attuned across a thousand miles, while petty hearts diverge though separated by just a single street.

The conclusion mentions ancient ritual implements: the "fangzhu" (a giant clam shell from the East Sea) and "yang sui" (a bronze mirror for fire-making). Ancient sacrificial rites emphasized purity—using the fangzhu to catch lunar dew for sacred water, and the yang sui to focus sunlight for divine fire.

This scripture passage contains two main interpretive sections:

The first part elucidates the principle that "those who boast of themselves achieve no merit." Historical anecdotes from the Spring and Autumn period illustrate this: Gao Zhi, an official of Qi, met with misfortune due to his habit of self-aggrandizement and autocratic behavior; Zhao Jianzi, a Zhao general, failed to maintain humility during battle, causing his subordinates to compete in boasting about their military exploits, which fractured army cohesion. These examples demonstrate how self-promotion ironically prevents genuine accomplishment.

The second part's "leftover food and superfluous actions"典故 (historical allusion) originates from the same era: When King Wen of Chu passed through Deng during his campaign against Shen, Marquis Qi of Deng's three nephews advised killing the Chu ruler, but the Marquis couldn't bring himself to harm his own kin. This excessive compassion proved disastrous when Chu later annihilated Deng. The story shows how misplaced kindness becomes burdensome like "leftover food" (余食) - an encumbrance that invites greater calamity.

In explaining "I do not know its name" from the "There was something formless yet complete" chapter, the commentary references ancient rites: Newborn boys had arrows shot to the four directions using mulberry bows and artemisia arrows on their third day, symbolizing future achievements; after three months they received a personal name from their father, then acquired a courtesy name at their capping ceremony (冠礼) at twenty. This progression from substance to naming mirrors the Dao's nameless origin - all things first possess essential reality before receiving designation.

This passage details the ritual protocols for ancient capping ceremonies (coming-of-age rites) and naming systems.

Regarding capping ceremonies: When a young man reached adulthood, a capping ritual was performed on the eastern steps (zuo jie), symbolizing intergenerational transmission. The ceremony included a libation (jiao li) in the guest position, embodying the path to maturity. The capping occurred in three stages: first with a black cloth cap, then a leather ceremonial hat (pi bian), and finally a sacrificial cap (jue bian), marking progressive elevation in status. After capping, the initiate received his "courtesy name" (zi) as an honorific title. Girls at fifteen underwent a hair-pinning ceremony (ji li) and similarly received their zi. As the inaugural rite among life ceremonies, the capping ritual represented both the transition from childhood and the complete cyclical nature of human relationships.

Concerning naming conventions: The text cites Duke Huan of Lu's consultation on naming his son during the Spring and Autumn period. Advisor Shen Xu proposed five methods: "Trust" (xin) based on birth characteristics (e.g., Tang Shuyu named for his birthmark), "Virtue" (yi) reflecting moral qualities (e.g., King Wen named Chang, King Wu named Fa), "Resemblance" (xiang) to objects (e.g., Confucius named after Mount Niqiu), "Borrowing" (jia) from external gifts (e.g., Confucius' son named Li for a carp gift), and "Affinity" (lei) to paternal traits (e.g., Zitong named for sharing his father's birthday). Taboos prohibited using state names, official titles, mountains/rivers, livestock, or ritual vessels as names—practices that disrupted normal usage, exemplified when Jin abolished the Minister of Lands (Situ) title to avoid Duke Xi's personal name, or Song altered its bureaucracy due to Duke Wu's name Sikong.

The clan system is also addressed: The Son of Heaven granted surnames (xing) based on virtue and assigned clan names (shi) with fiefdoms. Lords might take ancestral zi or posthumous names as clan identifiers, while officials used hereditary posts or fiefs. For instance, after Prince Wuhai's death, Duke Yin of Lu designated his descendants the "Zhan" clan from their ancestor Prince Zhan's name. These systems reflect cosmic principles—the sequence of zi preceding given names mirrors the Dao's quality of having "no absolute beginning."

This scripture expounds two core principles: the relationship between rulership and the natural order of heaven and earth, and the vital importance of following natural laws.

The first section illustrates governance through celestial and terrestrial phenomena. When a ruler practices benevolent governance (embodying the Dao), heaven and earth respond with auspicious signs: the sun and moon align like flawless jades, the five planets arrange themselves like beaded strings, sweet dew descends from heaven, sweet springs emerge from earth, rivers flow peacefully, seas remain calm, the auspicious Jingxing star appears, propitious clouds rise, divine dragons swim in ponds, qilin and phoenixes visit courtyards, the four seasons harmonize like steady candlelight, all things find their proper place, and universal peace prevails. Conversely, misrule disrupts the natural order: seasons become disordered disasters, strange phenomena emerge from earth, and human hearts turn corrupt. Heaven displays ominous signs—stars fall, solar eclipses multiply, winter thunder and summer frost appear, celestial rifts manifest, mountains collapse, and rivers run dry. These calamities demonstrate how human misconduct resonates with heaven and earth, ultimately bringing universal harm.

The second section employs Spring and Autumn period allegories to reveal fundamental principles. When King Jing of Zhou dispatched Zhan Huanbo to reprimand Jin for allying with barbarians against Zhou territory, three metaphors emphasized foundational truths: a robe cannot lack its ceremonial cap, a tree cannot survive without roots, and people cannot thrive without proper leadership. Should Jin undermine Zhou's authority—"tearing caps, destroying roots, abandoning guidance"—it would be like surrendering the Central Plains to barbarians, betraying the foundational principles established by Houji (Zhou's progenitor). Shu Xiang reminded Jin that even at the height of Duke Wen's hegemony, he dared not alter Zhou's fundamental institutions. These historical lessons demonstrate that governance must follow root principles—modeling earth, modeling heaven, modeling the Dao—just as water has its source and trees their roots, never to be recklessly disrupted.

This passage contains two distinct sections: the first recounts a historical event, while the second provides commentary on Chapter 26 of the Dao De Jing ("The Heavy is the Root of the Light"). Below is a modern interpretation of both parts:

The first section recounts an episode from the Spring and Autumn period. Duke Jing of Qi suffered from chronic malaria that refused to heal, prompting feudal lords from various states to send envoys to inquire after his health. Ministers Liangqiu Ju and Yi Kuan advised the duke: "We have made more lavish sacrifices to the spirits than our ancestors ever did. Yet your illness now worries the feudal lords—this must be the fault of the Zhu-Shi (ritual officials). Other states will think we disrespect the spirits. We should execute Zhu Gu and Shi Qi to satisfy our guests." As Duke Jing considered this, Minister Yanzi (Yan Ying) intervened with a cautionary tale: During the Song state alliance meeting, Qu Jian once asked Zhao Wu about the virtue of Fan Hui (Shi Hui). Zhao Wu praised Fan Hui for governing his household with strict discipline, serving the state of Jin with wholehearted dedication, and ensuring his Zhu-Shi conducted sacrifices with perfect honesty. When King Kang of Chu heard this, he marveled that such virtuous ministers could assist five successive rulers to become hegemon-lords. Yanzi used this to illustrate that only rulers with true virtue (De) receive divine protection—the Zhu-Shi merely perform rituals truthfully and shouldn't bear blame for misfortunes.

The second section explicates the Dao De Jing chapter about "the heavy being the root of the light." It cites the Yi Hexagram (Yi Gua) from the Book of Changes, noting how human speech and eating both depend on jaw movement. Observing this, the noble person cultivates careful speech and moderate eating (manifestations of "heaviness"). The commentary then uses the example of "though there may be splendid vistas" to show that even dwelling in magnificent palaces with towering terraces and deep pools (expressions of "lightness"), rulers like Duke Jing—who neglect virtue (De) while relying on sacrificial rituals and executing Zhu-Shi—ultimately fail to attain true blessings.

(Note: The "Zhu-Shi" were ancient officials overseeing sacrificial prayers; the "Yi Hexagram" symbolizes nourishment and self-cultivation within the Book of Changes' 64 hexagrams.)

This passage primarily addresses the dire consequences of tyrannical governance and the vital importance of cultivating virtue (De) and correcting one's faults. The first half depicts the various misdeeds of despotic rulers: they construct towering terraces and deep pools, indulge in revelry and pleasure, exploit the people's labor, give free rein to selfish desires while neglecting their subjects' welfare, and act with such cruelty that they provoke the wrath of spirits and deities. Even if such rulers employ ritualists (Zhushi) to offer flattering words to conceal their transgressions, the spirits will not accept their sacrifices—instead, calamities will befall them.

Through dialogue, the text points out that when those in power impose excessive taxes, allow favored ministers to monopolize authority, and indulge in extravagant palaces, the suffering and curses of the common people will follow. No amount of skillful prayer can outweigh the resentment of countless individuals. When Duke Jing of Qi heeded the admonitions of his minister Yanzi, he immediately implemented benevolent policies: reducing taxes, abolishing harsh prohibitions, and canceling oppressive debts. Within just twelve months, Duke Jing recovered from illness and was able to go hunting—demonstrating the tangible effects of virtuous reform.

The latter half transitions to the "Chapter on Good Conduct," expounding the principle of honoring teachers and respecting the Dao (the Way). It cites ancient rituals: when the Son of Heaven sought guidance from his teacher, the teacher was not required to face north (the traditional position of a subject before a ruler) but instead stood facing west in the position of "Shi Shangfu" (Teacher and Venerable Father), reflecting the equal reverence for "ruler, father, and teacher." The text emphasizes that those who excel in learning make teaching effortless for their mentors while achieving double the results; those who are unskilled in learning exhaust their teachers yet gain little. True respect for a teacher lies in humility and receptivity, mirroring the earlier theme of "cultivating virtue"—whether in governance or study, the fundamental principle is to adopt the right attitude and follow the correct path (Dao).

Note: "Shi Shangfu" refers to Jiang Ziya, whom King Wu of Zhou honored as "Shangfu" (Venerable Father). The "five degrees of mourning attire" (Wufu) denote the ancient system of mourning garments, differentiated by five grades based on kinship proximity. The statement that "the teacher does not belong to the five degrees" means that while the teacher-student bond is not one of blood, it is equally worthy of reverence.

This scripture primarily discusses two key aspects: first, the ten essential principles beginners should know for spiritual cultivation, and second, the Daoist perspective on governing the realm.

For practitioners, ten fundamental requirements must be understood at the initial stage: First, one must possess sincere goodwill and a genuine thirst for truth. Second, one should associate with virtuous teachers and companions who can guide and strengthen one’s faith. Third, it is essential to seek out enlightened masters to learn the profound mysteries of the Dao. Fourth, one must be receptive to orthodox teachings and diligently study the scriptures. Fifth, one should embrace monastic life, maintaining humility and gentleness while freeing oneself from worldly attachments. Sixth, strict adherence to precepts is necessary to discipline speech and conduct. Seventh, practitioners ought to retreat to mountain forests, distancing themselves from worldly distractions to cultivate tranquility. Eighth, one must have unwavering faith that the Great Dao (Dao) can liberate beings from the cycle of life and death. Ninth, one should recognize that scriptural teachings are like potent medicine capable of curing afflictions. Tenth, it is crucial to understand that the true Dharma nourishes both the spiritual body (Fashen) and wisdom-life (Huiming). These ten methods form the foundation of practice, to be cultivated progressively—starting with elementary practices (Xiaosheng), advancing to intermediate integration (Zhongsheng), and ultimately reaching the contemplative realization of the Mahayana (Dacheng) stage.

Regarding statecraft, the scripture states: Ancient sage-kings such as Fuxi, the Flame Emperor, the Yellow Emperor (Xuanyuan), Shaohao, Zhuanxu, Gaoxin, Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang of Shang, and Emperor Gaozu of Han all manifested auspicious signs—evidence of their accumulated virtue (De) over lifetimes. If a ruler ascends the throne but fails to govern with virtue, chaos will ensue, necessitating the emergence of a true sage to restore order. The scripture warns rulers that seizing power through force without winning hearts through virtue will inevitably lead to the loss of the Mandate of Heaven.

The founding emperors like Yu of Xia, Tang of Shang, King Wu of Zhou, and Emperor Gaozu of Han established their dynasties and passed their legacy to descendants. While successor rulers should have continued their predecessors' enlightened virtue (De), tyrants like Jie of Xia, Zhou of Shang, King Nan of Zhou, and Emperor Xian of Han completely deviated from the proper path (Dao).

All dynastic founders possessed sagely virtue (De). They corrected faults, manifested benevolence, and understood the people's suffering. Through diligent governance, they created golden ages. In contrast, successors raised in palace seclusion remained ignorant of common hardships, indulging in sensual pleasures while treating the populace as mere grass to be trampled—recklessly employing harsh punishments. By violating the Dao of Heaven and oppressing the people, they incurred divine wrath and popular resentment, ultimately meeting destruction. This exemplifies the Dao De Jing's warning: "Those who grasp will lose"—an eternal admonition for rulers.

The Spring and Autumn Annals record how Hua Du of Song murdered Kong Jiafu, assassinated Duke Shang of Song, and installed Prince Ping as Duke Zhuang. Duke Zhuang presented the grand tripod of Gao to Duke Huan of Lu, who placed it in the ancestral temple. Minister Zang Aibo remonstrated: "A ruler should manifest virtue (De) and eradicate vice to govern officials. Displaying bribed vessels in the temple openly teaches corruption." When King Wu of Zhou relocated the Nine Tripods to Luoyang after conquering Shang, even righteous scholars criticized the act—how much more improper to enshrine ritual violations?

The term "demonic affliction" refers to malignant Qi (vital energy). Ancient sages distinguished internal calamities as "shengs" (self-inflicted disasters), external ones as "zais" (natural calamities), with heavenly fires also classified as "zais."

Chapter 30 discusses assisting rulers through the Dao. When Yu prepared to attack the Youmiao tribes but failed after thirty days, his minister Yi advised: "Virtue (De) moves heaven and earth; sincerity touches the divine. How much more will it affect the Youmiao?" Yu withdrew troops to cultivate virtue (De), displaying shields and feathered banners in ritual dance at court. Within seventy days, the Youmiao submitted voluntarily. This demonstrates moral transformation's superiority over military conquest.

This passage comprises two main sections: the first discusses ancient ritual dance protocols, while the second explores military strategy and the art of warfare.

Regarding dance rituals: Even in remote regions, ancient states maintained ceremonial propriety. Dance served as a ritual expression of joy. Performers wielded shields and battle-axes (ganqi), practicing bowing, stretching, and bending movements to cultivate dignified bearing. They moved through prescribed formations and rhythms to maintain orderly ranks. Feathers, panpipes (yuyue), and weaponry (ganqi) served as ritual implements, while the bending and stretching motions constituted the dance postures. The varying speeds of formation changes (zhui zhao shu ji) created the choreographic patterns. Strict hierarchies governed the scale: the Son of Heaven employed eight rows of eight dancers (64 performers), feudal lords six rows of six (36), high officials four rows of four (16), and scholars two rows of two (4).

Concerning military affairs: The skilled commander seeks only to achieve strategic objectives before ceasing action. The Spring and Autumn Annals records how Prince Guisheng of Zheng, commanded by the Chu king to attack Song, defeated Song general Hua Yuan who was captured—illustrating how violating ritual military orders leads to defeat. True warfare follows the principle of "resolute determination" (guo yi)—decisiveness (guo) in combat and perseverance (yi) in seeing campaigns through. The Book of Changes advises the noble person to emulate an archer concealing his bow, awaiting the moment to strike a falcon perched on high walls—maintaining constant readiness while biding one's time.

The mentioned Six Secret Teachings (Liu Tao) refers to the military treatise discovered by Jiang Ziya in the belly of a great fish while fishing at Panxi. Its six strategies—Civil, Military, Dragon, Tiger, Leopard, and Dog—respectively address statecraft, quelling rebellions, harmonizing yin-yang, intimidating adversaries, tactical flexibility, and intelligence gathering. Similarly significant is the Three Strategies (San Lue) transmitted to Zhang Liang by the Yellow Stone Elder at the Yi Bridge.

This passage emphasizes the importance of seizing the opportune moment. Just as an eagle must choose the right instant to strike its prey, a junzi (virtuous person) should manifest their talents when circumstances are favorable and maintain a low profile when they are not—a principle well illustrated in the Records of the Grand Historian (Shiji).

Certain actions inevitably provoke resentment, which is why those who truly understand the Dao (the Way) refrain from them. The third line of the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing) mentions "cultivating refined speech and establishing sincere trust," where "sincerity" refers to honesty and integrity.

Regarding the art of warfare: Armed force should only be employed as a last resort. The cosmos operates along its cardinal axes (north-south as the warp, east-west as the weft), and Heaven generates the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Harming others constitutes "calamity," while defying virtue and creating chaos is termed "disorder." Victory in battle is called "overcoming." A formal military campaign announced with drums and bells is termed "righteous conquest," whereas unannounced aggression is called "invasion." Justified military action is "accordant," while unjustified action is "rebellious."

Concerning ritual propriety: Auspicious ceremonies prioritize the left side, while inauspicious funerary rites honor the right. The Book of Rites (Liji)·Tan Gong chapter records how Confucius placed his right hand over the left when mourning his sister's death, leading his disciples to imitate him unknowingly. Confucius praised their eagerness to learn but later corrected them upon realizing this was a funeral gesture. "Tan Gong" constitutes the fourth section of the Liji.

Governing a state requires valuing human life, as stated in the Book of Documents (Shangshu)·Songs of the Five Sons: "The people are the foundation of the nation." Even military victories should be treated with funeral rites, acknowledging the inevitable casualties of war. The Spring and Autumn Annals record how, during Duke Mu of Qin's 32nd-year campaign against Zheng, Minister Jian Shu foresaw the impending disaster. Weeping as he bid farewell to the troops, he predicted Jin's ambush at Mount Yao—where the Southern Mound (tomb of Emperor Gao of Xia) and Northern Mound (where King Wen of Zhou took shelter) stood—foretelling the annihilation of Qin's army and his own grim task of collecting their bones. The prophecy proved tragically accurate.

This passage recounts a series of events during the Qin army's eastern campaign in the Spring and Autumn period:

When the Qin troops passed the northern gate of the Zhou capital, soldiers merely removed their helmets briefly in salute, with three hundred charioteers even jumping off their vehicles to dash past. The young royal descendant Wang Sun Man observed this and told King Xiang of Zhou: "The Qin army acts with reckless impropriety—they are certain to meet defeat. Recklessness shows lack of strategy, and impropriety leads to carelessness. Entering dangerous territory with such laxity—how could they not be defeated?"

Upon reaching the State of Hua, they encountered Zheng merchant Xian Gao who was en route to Zhou territory for trade. With quick wit, he presented the Qin army with four tanned ox hides and twelve cattle as provisions, while secretly dispatching messengers to alert Zheng. When Duke Mu of Zheng received the warning and inspected Qin's garrison, he found them already sharpening weapons and feeding warhorses in preparation for battle. Zheng sent Huang Wuzi to deliver a pointed message: "Our humble provisions must be nearly exhausted after your extended stay. Hearing of your imminent departure, might we suggest hunting in our Yuanpu game preserve—just as you have the Juyou hunting grounds in Qin—to take some deer and give us breathing room?" Hearing this, Qin generals Qi Zi fled to Qi, while Feng Sun and Yang Sun escaped to Song.

Qin commander Meng Mingshi concluded: "Zheng is prepared—our hopes are dashed. Attack would be futile without prospects of victory, and siege unsustainable without reinforcements. We must withdraw." Thus the Qin army destroyed Hua before retreating.

Jin minister Xian Zhen recognized this as heaven-sent opportunity: "Qin ignored Jian Shu's counsel and exhausted its people for greedy ends—this is heaven delivering them to us. Never release a foe—sparing enemies begets future calamity." Though Luan Zhi objected that this would dishonor the late Duke Wen of Jin, Xian Zhen countered: "Qin shows no mourning for our bereavement, instead attacking our kindred state Hua—this is impropriety! Sparing them would curse our descendants!" Jin then mobilized troops with Jiang Rong allies.

On the xinsi day of the fourth month, Jin forces crushed the Qin army at Mount Xiao, capturing commanders including Baili Xi and Meng Mingshi. When Duke Xiang of Jin considered releasing them for punishment in Qin, Xian Zhen erupted: "Warriors risked lives capturing these enemies, only to have them freed by a woman's [the duke's mother] words? This destroys our victory and emboldens the foe!" Though pursuers were sent, Meng Mingshi's group had already boarded a ship. Kneeling on deck, Meng proclaimed: "We thank Jin's ruler for sparing our lives. Should Qin execute us upon return, we would die without regret."

This historical episode reveals intricate interstate relations of the era, particularly through Xian Gao's ingenious provisioning and Huang Wuzi's diplomatic dismissal—vivid examples of period statecraft. Xian Zhen's adage "Spare an enemy today, invite calamity for generations" became a celebrated military maxim.

This passage contains two distinct sections: the first recounts a historical anecdote, while the second expounds on Daoist philosophical principles.

The first part narrates a story from the Spring and Autumn period about Duke Mu of Qin. Ignoring the advice of his elderly minister Jian Shu led to military defeat. Afterwards, the duke donned plain mourning garments to meet his defeated troops outside the city walls, tearfully acknowledging his errors. He confessed: "By disregarding Jian Shu's loyal counsel, I have brought disgrace upon you, my generals. The fault is entirely mine. My failure to recall General Meng Ming was my grave mistake. What blame could possibly fall upon my officers? I shall never let a single misstep overshadow their great virtue."

The latter section elucidates key concepts from Chapters 32 and 33 of the Dao De Jing. Though the Great Dao appears simple and subtle, nothing in heaven or earth dares disregard it. This mirrors how the Zhou dynasty's hierarchical system (with its celestial sons, feudal lords, ministers, and scholars) maintained distinct positions while all adhering to natural law. The text references "sweet dew" as a celestial auspicious sign symbolizing the benevolent ruler's grace—described as honey-sweet and anciently called "heaven's wine" or "heaven's milk."

Regarding the principle that "knowing others is wisdom," the passage cites the historical example of Duke Xuan of Song passing his throne to his younger brother Duke Mu, illustrating how true wisdom lies in understanding human nature. Just as forests don't deliberately attract birds nor rivers consciously draw fish, yet all creatures naturally gravitate toward them; the genuine ruler needn't pursue fame—by upholding Dao, De (Virtue), and humaneness, the people will naturally give their allegiance.

This passage recounts two historical anecdotes about abdication and fraternal conflicts among rulers.

The first story describes how Duke Xuan of Song, on his deathbed, passed the throne not to his own son Yuyi but to his younger brother Duke Mu. Later, when Duke Mu wished to return the throne to Yuyi, his ministers advocated for his own son Ping. Duke Mu firmly refused, believing this would violate his predecessor's will. He eventually sent his son Ping to live in Zheng while insisting on establishing Yuyi as ruler (later known as Duke Shang of Song). The author praises Duke Xuan for recognizing talent and Duke Mu for upholding moral principles.

The second narrative depicts the conflict between Duke Zhuang of Zheng and his younger brother Gongshu Duan (also called Taishu Duan). Their mother Wu Jiang favored the younger brother, enabling Gongshu Duan to continually expand his power until he prepared to attack the Zheng capital. Duke Zhuang dispatched troops to quell the rebellion, forcing Gongshu Duan into exile. In anger, Duke Zhuang swore never to see his mother again "until the Yellow Springs (death)." Later, through the mediation of Ying Kaoshu, they dug a tunnel until reaching underground springs (symbolizing the Yellow Springs) and reconciled. The Spring and Autumn Annals criticized Duke Zhuang for failing to properly guide his younger brother.

The concluding line "Only those who do not lose their proper place endure" underscores the central theme: lasting harmony requires each person to maintain their appropriate position. Duke Mu's abdication serves as a positive example, while the Zheng brothers' conflict stands as a cautionary tale.

This scripture contains interpretations in three main sections:

The first section discusses human lifespan. According to the ancient Hetu (a mystical diagram), heaven grants each newborn 43,200 "counts" (calculation units) governing daily life, along with 120 "cycles" governing the years - these constitute one's predetermined lifespan. The Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture) states that rejuvenation remains possible even at 120 years, but maintaining health beyond this requires consuming the Ninefold Eight-Jewel Elixir (a Daoist alchemical preparation) and visualizing the essence of the Seven Luminaries (sun, moon and five planets) to delay aging. This demonstrates lifespan extension through cultivation.

The second section cites Zhuangzi's stories of Shan Bao and Zhang Yi to illustrate principles of nurturing life. It also explains ancient terminology for death according to social rank: "collapse" for the Son of Heaven, "demise" for feudal lords, "completion" for ministers, "cessation of stipend" for scholars, and simply "death" for commoners.

The third section, "Holding the Great Image Chapter," recounts how an envoy from a distant land paid tribute to the Han court. The envoy claimed their country lay 300,000 li away, but astronomical observations revealed China would produce a virtuous ruler, prompting their king to send them on a thirteen-year journey across the Weak Waters and flying sands. This illustrates how a ruler's De (Virtue/Power) attracts distant homage.

Finally, the "Contraction Chapter" recounts a Spring and Autumn period story of Duke Wen of Jin: first provoking Chu to attack Song, then allying with other states to defeat Chu, before ostensibly gathering nobles for a hunt with King Xiang of Zhou - ostensibly honoring the king while actually displaying his own power. Confucius criticized this as improper subject-overlord conduct. Using the metaphor of fish not leaving water, it shows how political stratagems, though effective, violate the Dao (the Way).

This passage recounts an ancient story about imperial hunting. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explains that it was improper for the Son of Heaven to hunt in Heyang (a place name), as this was not an appropriate hunting ground for the emperor. Even when the emperor committed such ritual transgressions, it was criticized as "deceitful and absurd" (譎谬). How much worse, then, were the manipulations and deceptions practiced by treacherous ministers against their sovereign?

Through this concrete example, the commentary illustrates that if even those in high positions are censured for violating ritual propriety, the deliberate deceptions and power plays of unscrupulous officials are far more reprehensible. Emperor Xuanzong uses this historical allusion to emphasize the teachings in the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) concerning the proper relationship between ruler and subject. Whether sovereign or minister, all should abide by their proper roles and follow the correct path.

This scripture elucidates the concept of "the highest De (Virtue) does not appear as De" from the Daode Jing through two historical anecdotes.

The first story recounts a dialogue between Cao Gui (a wise man) and Duke Zhuang of Lu before the Battle of Changshao during the Spring and Autumn period. Duke Zhuang boasted that he shared food and clothing with his people, but Cao Gui dismissed this as trivial generosity, insufficient to win true loyalty. When the duke claimed he was honest in sacrifices, Cao Gui replied that such minor sincerity couldn’t move the spirits. Only when Duke Zhuang mentioned his diligent handling of legal cases did Cao Gui recognize this as genuine care for the people, deeming it worthy of battle. During the fight, Cao Gui waited until the Qi army’s morale waned after three drumbeats before attacking and carefully observed their tracks and banners to confirm no ambush before pursuing, securing victory. This illustrates that true De lies not in superficial gestures.

The second story involves Duke Jing of Qi discussing rituals with Yanzi. Yanzi pointed out that the essence of rites (social norms) lies in: rulers being wise, ministers loyal, fathers kind, children filial, brothers harmonious, spouses respectful, and in-laws amicable. Only when these relationships are properly maintained can society achieve balance. Yanzi emphasized that ancient kings modeled rites on the natural order of Heaven and Earth, making this the foundation of governance.

Together, these stories demonstrate that the noblest De (highest Virtue) is not deliberate display but sincere intention from the heart, and the finest rites (highest Ritual) are not elaborate formalities but relationships aligned with the natural Dao. When society strays from the Dao, De must guide it; when De declines, rites must regulate it.

This passage explains the historical context behind the phrase "When lords and kings attain the One, the world becomes upright" from the "Chapter on Those Who Attained" in the Daode Jing (Tao Te Ching).

In ancient times before Yao and Shun, rulers were called "Emperors" (Di). When Shun passed the throne to Yu, Yu humbly believed his virtue (De) could not match the previous emperors, so he adopted the title "King" (Wang). Yu originally abdicated to Yi, but because Yu's son Qi was virtuous, the feudal lords paid homage to Qi instead of Yi. Qi also considered his virtue inferior to the Five Emperors and thus took the title of King, establishing the tradition of using "Wang." It was not until the Qin dynasty unified China that the title "Emperor" (Huangdi) was created by combining the "Three Sovereigns" and "Five Emperors." The Han dynasty decreed that only members of the Liu imperial clan could be enfeoffed as kings, while meritorious officials were made marquises. The emperor's eldest son was the crown prince, other sons were enfeoffed as kings, and grandsons were called "prince-grandsons." The Tang system allowed the emperor's grandsons and nephews to be enfeoffed as commandery kings, with heirs designated as successor kings. Even non-imperial meritorious officials could be enfeoffed as kings, though without actual fiefdoms.

The passage "Heaven would not be clear" refers to the reign of Emperor Hui of Jin during the Yuankang era, when the ruler's loss of virtue caused celestial anomalies—a several-zhang-long split appeared in the sky. This was seen as a manifestation of losing the "harmonious Dao (Way)," and indeed, the Western Jin soon fell into turmoil, with both Emperor Hui and Emperor Ai suffering calamities.

"Earth would not be tranquil" cites the Records of the Grand Historian (Shiji), which records a great earthquake in the second year of King You of Zhou when the three rivers shook and Mount Qi collapsed. The Spring and Autumn Annals document five major earthquakes over 242 years, including collapses of Mount Liang and Mount Shalu. Since Qin and Han times, such disasters have been countless—some severe enough to destroy cities, others minor but still damaging houses.

"Spirits would not be divine" recounts a Spring and Autumn Annals entry: in the seventh month of the 32nd year of Duke Xi, spirits descended at Xin, and the Duke of Guo hosted them. When King Hui of Zhou asked his historians the reason, they explained: "When a state is to flourish, spirits descend to observe its virtue; when it is to perish, spirits also come to witness its wickedness." Thus some states prospered through divine aid, while others perished after spiritual warnings.

This passage illustrates the omens of national decline and the importance of a ruler's virtue (De) through historical accounts. Before the fall of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties, abnormal celestial phenomena occurred—such as the Yi and Luo rivers drying up and the Yellow River ceasing to flow. During King You of Zhou's reign, ominous signs like collapsing mountains appeared, and within a decade, the state perished.

It lists rulers who lost their kingdoms due to moral failings: feudal lords like Duke Ling of Jin (Yigao) and Duke Zhao of Song (Chujiu), as well as emperors such as Tai Kang of Xia, Wu Yi of Shang, Kings You and Li of Zhou, and Emperors Huan and Ling of Han. The text emphasizes that among all beings nurtured by heaven, humans hold the most spiritual nobility. Thus, the Book of Documents (Shangshu·Taishi) states, "The people are the foundation of the state," and the Book of Songs (Shijing) praises virtuous gentlemen.

When King Ling of Chu built the Zhanghua Terrace, his grand steward Wei Qijiang cited the dying words of a former ruler: Duke Cheng had urged kindness toward envoys from Lu to ensure Chu's stability. Yet when Duke Xiang of Lu came to offer condolences, King Ling felt humiliated, and his ministers grew uneasy, fearing the state would falter. This confirms the principle that "nobility is rooted in humility"—hence rulers often style themselves "the solitary," "the unworthy," or "the undeserving" to express humility, underscoring that governance must be grounded in the welfare of the people.

This passage records diplomatic interactions between feudal states during the Spring and Autumn period, focusing on events surrounding Duke Xiang of Lu's visit to Chu.

The Chu ruler, King Ling, displayed erratic behavior toward Lu. The text notes that "King Ling of Chu lacked trustworthiness, which led to his downfall," highlighting how his unreliability ultimately brought about his demise. When Duke Xiang visited Chu, the Chu court initially welcomed him warmly and presented him with an extravagant gift—the famed "Great Bow of Qu." However, they later reneged, demanding its return under the pretext that the states of Jin, Qi, and Yue all coveted it.

Meng Xizi, a Lu minister accompanying the duke, felt deeply ashamed of his unfamiliarity with ritual protocols. Upon returning home, he devoted himself to studying ceremonial systems. He dispatched officials like Nangong Jingshu to learn rites from Confucius, who later traveled with Nangong to the Zhou capital to consult Laozi on ritual matters.

The text also cites historical conventions: the self-referential term "guaren" (寡人, "the morally deficient one") originated from earlier rulers' humility in acknowledging their imperfect virtue, while "bugu" (不谷, "the unworthy one") expressed a ruler's self-awareness of insincerity.

Finally, it references the Spring and Autumn Annals account of the Linghu alliance between Qin and Jin: Duke Li of Jin arrived first, but Duke Huan of Qin refused to cross the river, forcing representatives from both sides to conduct the covenant separately on opposite banks of the Yellow River. These episodes illustrate the intricate diplomatic dynamics and issues of trust among the feudal states of the era.

This scripture consists of two parts. The first recounts the historical rupture of an alliance between the Qin and Jin states during the Spring and Autumn period, while the second provides commentary on Chapter 41 of the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue).

The first section explains: What meaning did this alliance hold? Treaties were originally meant to establish trust. Though Duke Huan of Qin and Duke Li of Jin had formed a covenant at Linghu, the Qin ruler secretly conspired with the Di tribes and Chu state to attack Jin. Jin dispatched Lü Xiang to reprimand the Qin leader for this betrayal, accusing Qin of first violating the Linghu pact and now hypocritically seeking new alliances. Ultimately, Jin led a coalition of states to decisively defeat Qin at Masui, proving Qin's moral failure and Jin's righteous stance.

The latter section annotates the Daode Jing chapter "When superior scholars hear of the Dao": Practitioners of the Dao often appear to regress ("advancing in the Dao seems like retreating")—Li Yiqi begging for alms among mortals, Yin Changsheng enduring humiliation in marketplaces, Hou Daohua concealing his identity as a laborer, Huangfu Tan feigning illness in seclusion, Shengzi pretending madness, and Hugong hiding his abilities. These all exemplify cultivating one's true nature through humility and unassuming behavior.

The commentary on "abundant De (Virtue) appears insufficient" cites the Records of the Grand Historian: When Confucius consulted Laozi about rites, the Daoist sage remarked: "The ancient worthies you speak of have long decayed to bones—only their words remain. I've heard that skilled merchants keep treasures concealed as if empty ('the excellent merchant stores deeply as though his hoard were void'), while the nobleman of abundant De appears dull. You should abandon your arrogance and excessive desires—they bring no benefit." This illustrates how those of genuine virtue often seem deficient in outward display.

(Note: Figures like Li Yiqi and Yin Changsheng are legendary Daoist cultivators who refined their true nature through seemingly eccentric behavior. The merchant metaphor "storing deeply as though void" became a classic allusion for describing great wisdom appearing foolish.)

Arrogance, self-satisfaction, indulgence in desires, obsession with sensual pleasures, and inflated ambitions—these all harm both body and mind for spiritual practitioners. These are the truths I caution you about.

The true Dao has no sharp edges (indicating its perfectly harmonious nature). As stated in the Analects (Yang Huo chapter), it requires continuous polishing through cultivation. Great vessels take time to form ("Great vessels are finished late"), just as historical records like the Spring and Autumn Annals describe treasures—Yang Hu returning jade discs, the jade huang pendants of Xia rulers, or the mighty Fanruo bow of Fengfu—all requiring time to reach their perfected state.

What appears as loss may in fact bring gain, echoing the Book of Documents ("Great Plan of Yu") principle that "fullness invites diminishment." Those who rely on brute force often meet untimely ends ("The violent and domineering do not die a natural death"). Yan Junping of Shu Commandery (Yan Zun) made his living through divination in Chengdu, using Yin-Yang principles to educate the people. He would close shop each day upon earning a hundred coins, then retire to write his fourteen-volume Guidelines to the Dao and Virtue.

Chapter 43 speaks of "the softest things in the world." The highest form of teaching is wordless instruction ("teaching without words"). The Book of Han classifies the Hundred Schools of Thought into nine traditions: Daoism focuses the spirit (Shen) and follows natural patterns; Confucianism aids rulers in governance by emulating Yao, Shun, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius; the School of Names emphasizes the correspondence between names and realities; the School of Diplomacy excels in statecraft rhetoric. Each tradition has its strengths, but when divorced from fundamental principles, they degenerate into superficial techniques. Rulers must be particularly cautious with honors and regalia (titles and ritual objects), for "names and vessels should never be lightly bestowed."

This passage analyzes the characteristics and inherent flaws of the Hundred Schools of Thought from the pre-Qin period, concluding with historical anecdotes demonstrating how excessive pursuit of fame invites disaster.

Regarding the various schools: The Eclectic School (Zajia), originating from policy advisors, synthesized strengths from Confucianism, Mohism, Logicians, and Legalism, but when misapplied loses its fundamental purpose. The Agriculturalist School (Nongjia) emerged from agricultural officials, advocating self-sufficiency through farming, though its vulgar adherents would demand even gentlemen till fields. The Minor Talks School (Xiaoshuojia) developed from folklorists who collected popular sayings—Confucius considered such gossip entertaining but trivial. The Mohist School (Mojia) originated from temple purification rites, promoting austere living. The Yin-Yang School (Yinyangjia) derived from court astronomers, making people overly constrained by taboos. The Military School (Bingjia) came from defense ministers, advocating martial solutions to maintain order.

Authors from these schools were respectfully called "Zi" (Master), like Master Yu, Master Zeng, and Master Meng. Though their works dare not compare with the Six Classics, each holds distinctive value.

Chapter 44 illustrates through historical lessons: Which matters more—reputation or life? Boyi starved for virtue, Nie Zheng killed himself for honor, Weisheng drowned keeping a promise, Jing Ke died demonstrating courage, Guan Longfeng perished through blunt remonstrance, Wu Zixu met disaster through loyalty, and Jie Zitui was burned alive bearing resentment. Though these men achieved lasting fame, none met natural ends. Excessive attachment to reputation inevitably brings great harm, just as hoarding wealth invites catastrophic loss.

(Note: The historical figures mentioned represent famous pre-Qin examples of sacrificing life for moral ideals, illustrating the dangers of clinging to empty fame.)

This passage contains two distinct interpretive sections:

The first part illustrates the proverb "treasures invite calamity" through a historical anecdote. During the Spring and Autumn period, Duke Yu's younger brother Yushu possessed a precious jade. When the duke demanded it, Yushu initially refused but later recalled the saying "a commoner commits no crime until he harbors valuables," and surrendered the jade. However, when the duke subsequently demanded his sword, Yushu recognized insatiable greed would ultimately bring disaster and preemptively attacked the duke. This mirrors Zhuangzi's allegory of "reciting poetry while grave-robbing" - where elegant appearances conceal destructive intentions beneath refined manners.

The second section expounds the governing principle that "tranquility overcomes agitation." Natural phenomena demonstrate this: when the summer sun moves northward, days lengthen and heat intensifies; when autumn shifts it southward, nights lengthen and coolness prevails. These seasonal transformations result from Yang-Qi's cyclical movement. Rulers who understand the Dao practice Wuwei (non-action) governance, bringing peace to their realms. People flourish naturally, neighboring states pledge allegiance voluntarily, and military force becomes unnecessary. Such serene rule fosters spontaneous praise among citizens and the organic emergence of rituals. Conversely, warlike rulers who mobilize million-strong armies for displays of might, conscript laborers for distant campaigns, inevitably cause societal collapse - population dwindles until ghostly wails echo in daylight, the bitter fruit of reckless agitation.

(Note: References to "the Xiongnu chieftain's stronghold" and "the banks of Paesong and Liaodong" denote remote frontier regions, illustrating military overextension.)

When the world is well-governed, the sage ruler (referring to an enlightened monarch with Dao) holds authority, seated southward before a screen adorned with axe patterns. Shamans, historians, diviners, and musicians each perform their duties on either side, upholding the purest governance principles through Wuwei (non-action). The Three Dukes (Grand Preceptor, Grand Mentor, and Grand Guardian) assist in court administration, while the Three Elders (State Elder, Common Elder, and Village Elder) conduct moral instruction in academies, with all officials fulfilling their responsibilities. Through cultural virtue, distant regions are transformed; through moral education, the people are nurtured, resulting in social harmony, prosperous families, and prevailing courtesy. Tribute flows from all directions, border conflicts cease, weapons are stored away, and warhorses return to farmland. People joyfully cultivate their fields, harvests abound, and granaries overflow like mountains. Departing from this governance invites resentment and invasion—warhorses gallop again, weapons are drawn anew—this marks the conduct of a ruler without Dao.

The ancients said: "The ruler is like a boat; the people are like water. Without a ruler, the people are hard to govern; without water, the boat cannot sail." Boat and water depend on each other, inseparable for even a moment. Thus, governance fundamentally lies in nurturing the people. A ruler with Dao pacifies all regions through virtuous governance—externally, no wars occur, rendering armor and weapons useless. At the borders, soldiers lay down arms to farm; in the fields, wastelands are reclaimed through meticulous cultivation, ensuring abundant clothing and food for the people and prosperity for the state. Grain is life's foundation and governance's primary concern. The Book of Rites states: "Humans embody heaven and earth's essence, the convergence of Yin-Yang, the creation of spirits, and the quintessence of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water)." Therefore, when sages establish laws, they take heaven and earth as their foundation, Yin-Yang as their starting point, the four seasons as their measure, the sun, moon, and stars as their framework, spirits as their aid, the Five Phases as their substance, ritual propriety as their tool, popular sentiment as their field, and the Four Auspicious Beasts (unicorn, phoenix, turtle, dragon) as their omens. Thus it is said that popular sentiment is the sage-king's farmland—to govern this "field of sentiment" through Wuwei is to approach the Dao.

Governance without Dao leads to campaigns against distant tribes for territorial expansion—borders never know peace, and corvée labor never ends. Some launch expeditions to Panyu for coveted condiments or distant Dayuan for famed steeds. Bones pile in wilderness, blood stains grasslands, souls wander foreign lands, and chariots rot at frontiers. With ceaseless campaigns and endless supply lines, looms stand empty. Ultimately, popular fury erupts and states collapse—these calamities aren't heaven-sent but demand solemn vigilance! How preferable is domestic stability, with lords submitting, ministers harmonious, and all united in purpose!

This passage primarily expounds on Daoist concepts of restraining desires and governing through Wuwei (non-action), along with the optimal timing for learning. Here is the modern interpretation:

Regarding desire restraint, it states that in a harmonious society, strong warriors find no occasion to display their might, eloquent speakers have no need to showcase their rhetoric, soldiers' blades remain sheathed, and strategists' schemes go unused. People would melt weapons into farming tools and exchange swords for plow oxen, for only through Wuwei governance can lasting peace be achieved. The gravest offense lies in indulging desires—the Spring and Autumn Annals records how Duke Xiang of Song sought to convene feudal lords, but Minister Zang Wenzhong of Lu warned: "Restraining personal desires to follow public will may succeed, but demanding others submit to private ambitions rarely prevails." Indeed, Duke Xiang's meeting at Lushang ended in failure when Chu forces captured him. An even greater transgression is insatiable greed—the Laojun Repentance Scripture states that an initial mistake is called "guo" (fault), accumulating 1,080 such faults escalates to "huo" (calamity), and reaching 1,260 becomes the graver "jiu" (disaster).

On governance principles, it mentions how ancient Mingtang (imperial proclamation halls) featured ceremonial screens with axe patterns symbolizing royal authority. When the Duke of Zhou assisted young King Cheng of Zhou, he stood facing south before such a screen to establish proper ruler-minister relations.

Concerning learning timing: True learning means awakening insight and guiding one's nature through the ways of ancient sage-kings. Teaching proves ineffective during early childhood when minds remain unformed, yet difficult in adulthood when fixed habits resist change. Three criteria determine optimal learning periods: First, by age—systematic study suits those above thirteen, as the Record of Learning notes that missing this window makes study laborious. Second, by developmental stages—the Inner Regulations prescribes teaching children directional concepts (east, west, south, north) and basic counting at six, separating genders in seating at seven, and introducing fundamental rites at eight.

The scripture primarily discusses two key aspects: the educational system for aristocratic youth in ancient times, and the religious ethical concept of the "Three Karmas and Ten Evils."

The first section details the developmental and educational journey of aristocratic youths from age nine to fifty. At nine, children learned the ritual of deference, such as allowing elders to begin eating first at meals. By ten, they started studying basic knowledge including the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Brances. At thirteen, they practiced writing and arithmetic. Fifteen marked the beginning of learning civil dance (performing with a yue, a flute-like instrument) along with archery and charioteering. Upon receiving the capping ceremony at twenty, they commenced formal etiquette training. Thirty signified establishing a family and career, while forty brought entry into official service. By fifty, they participated in governance. The text also notes that spring and summer—with their light and clear energy—were ideal for studying poetry and music, whereas autumn and winter—with their heavy and substantial quality—were better suited for classical texts and rituals. This alignment with natural rhythms made learning more effective.

The latter section elaborates on the Buddhist concept of the "Three Karmas and Ten Evils." The "Three Karmas" refer to three modes of action: body (physical deeds), speech (verbal expression), and mind (thoughts). These encompass ten evil behaviors: killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct under bodily actions; greed, anger, and ignorance under mental actions; and divisive speech, harsh words, falsehoods, and frivolous talk under verbal actions. Each of these ten evils has four defining conditions. For example, killing requires four elements: the subject must be a living being, the perpetrator must recognize it as such, there must be intent to kill, and the act must result in death. The scripture emphasizes that restraining these evils leads to survival and growth, while indulging in them brings ruin.

This scripture primarily addresses several key aspects:

First, it details the manifestations of the Ten Evil Karmas (moral transgressions opposed by both Buddhism and Daoism), with particular emphasis on four types of offensive speech: (1) targeting specific individuals, (2) mentally identifying the recipient, (3) generating malicious intent, and (4) actually uttering harmful words. Similarly, it describes four forms of false speech: (1) selecting deception targets, (2) identifying the recipient, (3) forming deceitful intentions, and (4) completing fraudulent statements. Four types of frivolous speech are also outlined: (1) choosing deception targets, (2) identifying recipients, (3) developing cunning verbal strategies, and (4) articulating words contrary to the Dao. In total, fifty-three evil karmic actions are enumerated.

The text then illustrates the cultivated state of Daoist practitioners through two parables: Guo Wenju of the Jin Dynasty lived in seclusion at Mount Dadu in Yuhang, coexisting peacefully with tigers. He maintained that "when humans harbor no harmful intent toward beasts, beasts bear no injurious will toward humans" enables harmonious coexistence. Another account describes the immortal Liu Gang and his wife subduing tigers, demonstrating how the power of cultivated De (Virtue) can tame fierce creatures.

Finally, it references the Yijing (Book of Changes) and Confucius' deeds: During the Jia Valley alliance meeting, Confucius advocated that "civil affairs must be accompanied by military preparedness." When the Qi state attempted armed intimidation, Confucius fearlessly protected Duke Ding of Lu, exemplifying the wisdom of combining civil and martial capacities. These narratives collectively demonstrate that Dao cultivators must possess both penetrating discernment ("perceiving the subtle is called enlightenment") and the capability to handle crises effectively.

This passage consists of two parts: a historical anecdote and an exegesis of Chapter 54 of the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue).

The historical anecdote recounts an incident during the Spring and Autumn period when the Marquis of Qi hosted a covenant meeting with other feudal lords. The marquis arranged for dwarves to perform for entertainment, which Confucius deemed an insult to the assembled lords. Confucius immediately protested and demanded legal punishment, resulting in the execution of the dwarves and the marquis's subsequent shame. After the meeting, the Marquis reprimanded his ministers, saying, "The state of Lu guides its ruler with the way of gentlemen, while you instruct me with the barbaric methods of the Yi and Di tribes, causing me to offend the ruler of Lu." He then returned the territories of Yun, Huan, and Guiyin that he had seized from Lu. This episode illustrates the principle of balancing civil virtue with military preparedness.

The second part interprets the Daode Jing chapter that states, "What is well planted cannot be uprooted." The commentary cites the Book of Songs and the Book of Changes to explain that those who excel in establishing virtuous governance have unshakable foundations, much like King Wen of Zhou, whose moral influence united all states under heaven. The commentary further elaborates:

Cultivating virtue within a family is like the Book of Changes saying, "A family that accumulates goodness will have abundant blessings." Cultivating virtue throughout the world is like the Son of Heaven (the ideal ruler) embodying the Dao, practicing Wuwei (non-action), and naturally attracting universal allegiance. If a ruler neglects virtuous governance, they will resemble the tyrants Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang, bringing suffering to the people—even strong fortresses cannot protect them. Conversely, rulers like Yao and Shun, who cultivated virtue, brought peace to the world; even in times of disaster or war, the people bore no resentment.

The commentary particularly notes that the "temple court" (imperial court) is where the Son of Heaven governs. True virtuous governance resembles the Book of Changes line: "The dragon appears in the field; its virtue spreads universally." Finally, it emphasizes governing the world from a universal perspective, observing broader trends through the lens of universally applicable moral principles.

This is the third volume of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's personal commentary on the "Dao De Jing." Emperor Xuanzong (Li Longji of the Tang Dynasty) was not only a ruler but also a devout Daoist practitioner. His decision to personally annotate Laozi's "Dao De Jing" demonstrates his profound regard for Daoist philosophy. This commentary, designated as "imperially composed" (yuzhi), holds special significance within Daoist scriptures as it bears the unique distinction of being written by an emperor.

Through his personal understanding, Emperor Xuanzong elucidated the most important Daoist classic, aiding later generations in better comprehending Laozi's teachings. The third volume continues the exegetical work of the previous two, providing chapter-by-chapter and line-by-line interpretations that reveal the monarch's grasp of Daoist wisdom. Such imperial annotation of classical texts was exceptionally rare in history, reflecting the Tang imperial family's deep veneration for Daoism.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, in his commentary on the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue), used historical anecdotes to explain principles of governance and military strategy. He cited stories from the Spring and Autumn period to illustrate the concept of "using surprise tactics in warfare" (yi qi yong bing).

During the Spring and Autumn period, Prince Zhouyu of the state of Wei assassinated his ruler and usurped the throne. Zhouyu was born of a favored concubine of Duke Zhuang of Wei and had been fond of martial arts since childhood, yet no one disciplined him. The minister Shi Que once admonished Duke Zhuang: "To truly love a child, one must educate them with the proper Dao (Way), not allow them to stray into wickedness. Arrogance, extravagance, and debauchery all stem from excessive indulgence. If you insist on making Zhouyu the ruler, you must decide early; otherwise, it will inevitably lead to disaster." But Duke Zhuang ignored the warning. Later, Zhouyu indeed murdered the rightful ruler and seized power, even allying with other states to attack Zheng.

Shi Que mentioned the "Six Rebellions" (liu ni), referring to six acts that violate ethical principles: the lowly harming the noble, the young oppressing the elder, the distant alienating the close, newcomers displacing the old, small states bullying large ones, and debauchery undermining righteousness. Conversely, the "Six Harmonies" (liu shun) were: rulers being benevolent, ministers fulfilling their duties, fathers showing kindness, sons being filial, elder brothers caring for younger ones, and younger brothers respecting their elders. To abandon harmonious principles and follow rebellious conduct only invites calamity.

This historical lesson demonstrates that governance cannot rely solely on military force but must instead win hearts through De (Virtue). As Laozi said, "The bones are weak, the sinews supple, yet the grip is firm"—what appears soft often holds greater strength. Excessive reliance on force is like playing with fire; eventually, one gets burned. The true Dao of governance lies in aligning with heavenly principles and human ethics, transforming the people through Virtue.

This passage recounts a political upheaval in the State of Wei during the Spring and Autumn period, analyzed through the lens of the Dao De Jing concept of "sacrificing kinship for greater righteousness."

The narrative describes how Wei minister Zhou Yu murdered his ruler and usurped the throne, ruling tyrannically without cultivating Virtue (De). Minister Shi Que devised a plan to have Zhou Yu travel to the State of Chen, where he arranged for his capture. Shi Que even sent his own retainer to execute his son Shi Hou, who had participated in the regicide. Such actions were praised as "dà yì miè qīn" - prioritizing moral principle over familial bonds.

The text invokes Dao De Jing perspectives: when rulers excessively pursue clever stratagems ("when people multiply their skills and crafts"), they invite criticism like the Lu State's extravagant palace decorations; when laws become overly intricate ("the more laws are promulgated"), more thieves emerge. The Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties only instituted numerous penal codes during periods of misrule, which precisely signaled eras of decline.

Finally, illustrating the principle that "disaster may rest upon blessing, and blessing may lurk within disaster," the passage cites historical examples: Duke Huan of Qi achieved hegemony after surviving the Zhongsun crisis, while Duke Wen of Jin rose to prominence following the Liji turmoil. These demonstrate how fortune and misfortune intertwine, echoing Chapter 58's teaching that "governing unobtrusively" - seemingly muddled administration - can paradoxically yield favorable outcomes.

States sometimes flourish precisely because of calamities. The state of Wei (a Zhou dynasty vassal state) was originally peaceful but was destroyed by the Di people; the state of Xing (another vassal state) lived in tranquility yet was conquered by the people of Wei. These two states perished without encountering any disasters. Therefore, when one conceals strength and avoids display, others cannot discern one's true capabilities. The Spring and Autumn Annals states: Some states expand their territories through misfortunes, while others lose land despite being free from calamities—such outcomes are truly unpredictable.

Regarding fortune and misfortune, there are no absolute standards: Some people cultivate virtue and moral character, yet even minor incidents like the cry of a pheasant may bring disaster; others remain carefree and unattached, losing a horse only to gain unexpected blessings. Auspiciousness, inauspiciousness, regret, and distress are not predetermined—they all arise from one's own actions.

Chapter 59 discusses governing the people and aligning with the Dao of Heaven. It uses the example of offering abundant harvests in sacrifices to the spirits: The Zuo Commentary records that when King Wu of Chu attacked the state of Sui, he sent his minister Wei Zhang to negotiate, stationing troops at the Sui border in Xia. Sui dispatched its junior minister Shao Shi to discuss peace. The Chu minister Dou Bobi analyzed: "We have struggled to achieve our aims east of the Han River because we always intimidate with overwhelming military might, which only drives others to unite against us. Sui is the major power in the eastern Han region—if it grows arrogant and abandons its smaller allies, these states will defect to Chu. We should feign weakness to encourage Sui's arrogance." However, the minister Xiong Lüju cautioned: "Sui has the wise minister Ji Liang—will this strategy work?" Dou Bobi replied: "This is a long-term plan. At most, Ji Liang's advice will be heeded once or twice. Shao Shi is currently favored and will surely advocate underestimating us."

King Wu of Chu indeed pretended to be weak, and upon returning, Shao Shi urged pursuing the Chu army. Just as the Marquis of Sui was about to agree, Ji Liang dissuaded him: "Heaven now favors Chu. Their display of weakness is a ruse. A small state can defeat a large one only through the 'Dao'—by being loyal to the people and sincere to the spirits. Yet now, while the people starve, our ruler indulges his desires, and the sacrificial priests exaggerate merits in rituals—how can we expect divine protection?" The Marquis retorted: "Our sacrificial animals are plump, and the grains abundant—how is this not sincere?" Ji Liang responded: "The people are the foundation of the spirits. Sage kings first secure the people's welfare before revering the spirits. In sacrifices, one says 'the animals are robust' to signify the people's prosperity; 'the grains are pure and plentiful' to show agricultural diligence. But now, the people suffer while the ruler indulges in excess, and the priests deceive the spirits with false claims!"

(Note: This historical anecdote illustrates the essence of "governing the people and serving Heaven": Rulers must prioritize the people's welfare, as sincerity in sacrifice lies in virtuous governance rather than ceremonial display. "Zicheng" refers to the grains used in sacrifices, and "shengquan" denotes unblemished sacrificial animals.)

This passage elucidates ancient principles of governance. Regarding agriculture: thriving livestock signifies prosperous livelihoods and abundant grain reserves; flourishing crops indicate freedom from pests and blight; generous sacrificial offerings demonstrate favorable weather throughout the seasons. When clean grains are used in rituals, it shows successful farming in spring, summer, and autumn, with people enjoying peace and bountiful harvests; when fine wine is offered, it reveals that both rulers and subjects embody virtue (De), acting in accordance with heavenly principles—just as the fragrance of sacrifices remains unpolluted by slanderous thoughts.

Rulers must prioritize the three agricultural seasons (spring plowing, summer planting, autumn harvesting), implement the Five Teachings (righteousness in fathers, kindness in mothers, friendliness in elder brothers, respect in younger brothers, and filial piety in children), unite the nine kinship clans (from great-grandparents to great-grandchildren), and conduct rituals with sincerity. Thus, harmony among the people will attract divine blessings, ensuring successful endeavors. If the people are divided in heart, the spirits will lack proper veneration—what use is a ruler's personal wealth then? Consider how the ruler of the State of Sui, through diligent governance born of vigilance, deterred Chu from invasion.

Concerning the foundation of statecraft: Heaven and Earth's greatest virtue (De) lies in nurturing all things, while a sage's most precious treasure is rightful position. To maintain this position requires benevolence; to unite hearts requires wealth (referring to material foundations that ensure people's wellbeing). The Book of Changes states, "The king approaches his temple" (indicating a ruler gathers hearts through rituals). True possession of a state means: edicts are implemented, culture is unified, the people submit willingly, and distant lands admire its teachings. Conquest by force, rule through deceit, or inheriting peace while lacking virtue (De) and withholding benevolence—none constitute true possession of a state.

"Wang jia you miao" (The king approaches his temple) originates from the Cui hexagram of the Book of Changes, signifying a ruler uniting hearts through sacrificial rites, achieving filial piety that communicates with the divine. When the realm fragments and the people resent, even sacrifices become like temples without ancestry. Only in times of great order, when a ruler's filial virtue (De) permeates widely, can one speak of possessing true ancestral temples. "Wang jia you jia" (The king approaches his household) from the Jia Ren hexagram means the ruler must lead by example, harmonizing all families under heaven. Those who truly possess a state unify cart tracks (implementing edicts), standardize writing (cultural unity), earn the people's sincere devotion through virtue (De), and inspire distant lands with their teachings.

This scripture passage primarily discusses two key aspects:

The first part explains the meaning of "having a household need not bring sorrow." When a ruler governs his "household" (referring to the state) through Dao and De (Virtue/Power), the people will naturally be transformed. When the world receives this transformative influence, harmonious relationships develop among relatives, which is the essence of "mutual love." This principle aligns with the concept of "the king approaches the temple" from the Huan hexagram in the Yijing. Such governance represents the fundamental Way to lasting peace and stability for the nation.

The second part illustrates principles of statecraft through historical examples. A ruler should nourish the people through virtuous governance and administer the realm with frugality. When wealth is sufficient, the nation prospers; when virtue accumulates, the state endures. This approach attracts allegiance from both nearby and distant subjects, securing the submission of all ethnic groups. Like a mother nurturing all things and cherishing living beings, when the foundation is deep, the nation's destiny becomes enduring, allowing descendants to continue the lineage for generations.

The text then cites the Spring and Autumn Annals account of Duke Li of Zheng: when serpents fought within Zheng's borders, this ominous phenomenon foretold the coup that would occur six years later. This demonstrates how strange occurrences often originate from distorted human minds. When people violate natural principles, anomalies manifest. After Duke Li regained power, he executed the treacherous Fu Xia and reprimanded Minister Yuan Fan for disloyalty. Yuan Fan responded that as ministers should never entertain divided loyalties, for this is Heaven's immutable law. The fourteen-year reign of Ziyi illustrates how governance requires stability.

Through these historical examples, the scripture emphasizes that governing a state must be rooted in Dao and De. The ruler must cherish the people, while ministers must maintain undivided loyalty—only through such principles can lasting peace and stability be achieved for the nation.

This passage primarily discusses the political relations between feudal states during the Spring and Autumn period and the virtue rulers ought to possess. Duke Huan of Song dispatched Duke Wen of Zhu to perform a ritual at Cisi, using the ruler of Zeng as a human sacrifice. Sima Ziyu (Mu Yi, son of Duke Huan) criticized this, saying: "In ancient times, sacrifices used only the six domestic animals (horses, cattle, sheep, chickens, dogs, and pigs). Even for major events they didn't use large livestock, let alone humans! Sacrifices are fundamentally for the people—humans should be masters of the spirits. How could deities enjoy human sacrifices?"

When Duke Huan of Qi preserved three nearly destroyed states, righteous men still said his virtue was insufficient. Now you, in a single alliance meeting, have abused two rulers (capturing the Lord of Teng and sacrificing the Lord of Zeng) to worship malevolent spirits. Isn't it extremely difficult to seek hegemony this way? To die a natural death would already be fortunate—I fear your state may perish." Ziyu pointed out that the Sui River flows from the Bian into the Si, where malevolent spirits dwelled, and the Eastern Yi tribes practiced human sacrifice. But sacrifices have their proprieties—one shouldn't offer horses when worshipping the Horse Ancestor, let alone humans!

Now the sages use the Dao (the Way) to transform people, ensuring both spirits and humans receive blessings without harming each other—this is true profound virtue (Xuan De). A great state should be humble like water flowing downward. During the Spring and Autumn period, You Ji of Zheng told Shi Jingbo, a Jin minister: "Small states serving great ones must be reverent and obedient; great states caring for small ones must show compassion for their shortcomings—this was the system of ancient kings." When great states humble themselves toward small ones, they naturally win their allegiance.

When Jin served as alliance leader and Wei expelled its ruler to enthrone Biao instead, Jin considered punitive action. Duke Xian of Jin consulted Xun Yan (Zhongxing Xianzi), who advised: "Better to stabilize the situation peacefully. Military action may fail and exhaust our troops." Shi Yi's saying about "following circumstances to pacify" and Zhong Hui's counsel to "comfort the perishing and secure the chaotic" were cited. "Topple what's doomed to fall, consolidate what can survive—this is the way to govern a state."

This passage discusses the principles governing relations between large and small states. A large state should treat smaller states with appeasement as its primary approach, much like preparing weapons in winter for self-defense. History offers many examples of wise rulers who understood this principle: King Qi of Xia hosted feudal lords at Juntai in Henan; King Tang of Shang issued decrees at Jingbo in Yanshi; King Wu of Zhou convened alliances at Mengjin; King Cheng of Zhou hunted at Qiyang; King Kang of Zhou received tributes at Feng Palace in Hudu; King Mu of Zhou formed alliances at Mount Tu in Shouchun; Duke Huan of Qi assembled forces at Shaoling; and Duke Wen of Jin established covenants at Jiantu—all exemplifying harmonious relations where large states showed consideration for smaller ones, and smaller states served larger ones appropriately, with each finding their proper place.

Conversely, when large states fail to appease smaller ones, problems arise. For instance, when the ruler of Jin mistreated other feudal lords and forcibly commanded Zheng, the Zheng minister Zijia wrote to Zhao Xuanzi of Jin: "The ancients said, 'If one fears both head and tail, how much of the body remains unafraid?' They also said, 'A dying deer does not choose its cry.' When a small state serves a large one, if the large state possesses De (Virtue), it treats us as humans; without De, we become like deer—driven to desperate measures when cornered." This was a warning that Zheng would ally with Chu if Jin continued its oppression. When small states are caught between powerful neighbors and compelled to obey forceful commands, is it truly their fault? Such betrayals invariably stem from large states failing to appease them.

Therefore, large states should approach smaller ones with humility and restraint, using gentle and tranquil methods to win them over. "Gathering" here means attracting people willingly. If small states can serve large ones with sincere humility, they will gain acceptance.

On the other hand, small states that fail to serve large ones wholeheartedly also invite disaster. For example, when Song sought leadership status by allying with Chu at Lushang—though Chu agreed—Song's prince Muyi warned: "For a small state to contend for hegemony is calamitous! Song faces ruin!" Later, Chu indeed detained Duke Xiang of Song and attacked his state, releasing him only after the Bo alliance. Muyi remarked: "The disaster isn't over—this won't teach our lord a sufficient lesson." This exemplifies the misfortunes befalling small states that mishandle relations with larger powers. Conversely, when small states serve large ones properly...

This passage elucidates the principles governing interactions between major and minor states during the Spring and Autumn period, illustrating through historical examples the wisdom of "the great serving the small" and "the small serving the great."

When Zhu (a minor state) formed an alliance with Lu at the territory of Mie, though the ruler of Zhu had not yet received formal enfeoffment from the Zhou king, the chroniclers deliberately recorded his honorific name out of respect—precisely because he proactively cultivated relations with the major state to stabilize his people. In diplomatic protocols, when a major state visited a minor one it was termed a "courtesy visit" (reflecting the major state's consideration for the minor), while a minor state's audience with a major one was called a "tribute" (showing the minor state's reverence). These rituals were essential for maintaining interstate relations and building trust.

Mencius observed that only benevolent rulers could practice "the great serving the small," as exemplified by Tang of Shang serving the Earl of Ge or King Wen of Zhou serving the Kunyi tribes. Likewise, only wise rulers could achieve "the small serving the great," like King Tai of Zhou serving the Xunyu or King Goujian of Yue serving Wu. "The great serving the small" aligns with cosmic principles (joyful acceptance of Heaven's will), while "the small serving the great" demonstrates reverential awe of celestial mandate. The Book of Songs praises King Cheng of Zhou for maintaining peace through such awe of heavenly majesty.

Multiple Spring and Autumn examples demonstrate these dynamics: Song's rebellion against Chu to ally with Jin provoked Chu's punitive expedition; Qi's garrison at Gu contained Chu's power; Zheng's recitation of the poems "Hongyan" and "Zaichi" to seek Lu's aid—all showing how minor states needed major powers' protection while major states expanded influence through accommodation. The ultimate conclusion is clear: major states primarily seek leadership over more vassals, while minor states simply desire sanctuary—both achieving their aims, though major powers should maintain humility. As recorded in the Spring and Autumn Annals, truly formidable armies could flexibly control situations ("the troops could maneuver at will"), making judicious choices according to circumstances.

During the alliance meeting at Youreng, the tyrannical rule of Jie of Xia caused the people to revolt; when King Zhou of Shang held a hunting expedition at Li, the Dongyi tribes seized the opportunity to rebel; when King You of Zhou convened an assembly at Mount Taishi, the Rongdi tribes rose in arms; when Duke Xiang of Song hosted a meeting of feudal lords at Lushang, the various states turned against him; and when King Ling of Chu gathered allies at Shen, he lost all popular support. These rulers failed to pacify the people with benevolence and virtue (De), nor did they treat their subjects with propriety and righteousness, resulting in universal alienation. How could they truly command allegiance?

Chapter 62, "The Dao is the Profound Core of All Things," explains that the Dao is the most profound foundation of all existence.

Here we reference the Western Ascension Scripture (Xisheng Jing): It records that in the 25th year of King Zhao of Zhou's reign (the Guichou year, fourth month), after transmitting the Dao De Jing at Yin Xi's thatched hut at the northern foothills of Zhongnan Mountain, Laozi prepared to journey west to teach in the desert regions. Yin Xi inquired about the essential methods of "preserving the Three [Jing, Qi, Shen] and guarding the One [primordial Qi]" (a Daoist cultivation practice) and the path of self-cultivation. Later, Yin Xi compiled these sacred teachings into a text before ascending to the Taiwei Palace (a Daoist celestial realm), hence the meaning of "Western Ascension." The scripture comprises thirty-six chapters, 972 lines, and 4,278 characters, sharing the same essence as the Dao De Jing in expounding the profound and mysterious Dao as the source of emptiness and non-being.

The scripture states "Therefore the Son of Heaven is established, and the Three Dukes are appointed": With the vastness of the world and the multitude of all things, humanity at its inception could not exist without rulers, hence the Son of Heaven was instituted to govern. The Son of Heaven serves the Supreme Deity with reverence, honoring Heaven as father and Earth as mother, thus called "Son of Heaven." As one person cannot manage all affairs, officials were established to assist. The highest among them are the Three Dukes. The Book of Documents (Shangshu·Zhouguan) records: The Three Dukes' duty is to deliberate on governance and administer the state. The Grand Preceptor (Taishi) must have wisdom like a spring, conduct worthy of emulation, answering all inquiries and meeting all requests, hence called "Great Master" or "Venerable Father" (Shangfu) - "Tai" meaning "great," being the Son of Heaven's teacher, riding in a blue-canopied carriage of peace, wearing a golden seal with purple ribbons. The Grand Mentor (Taifu) is responsible for instruction and assistance. The Elder Dai's Records of Rites (Da Dai Liji) states: The Grand Mentor must teach the Son of Heaven with Dao, virtue (De), benevolence and righteousness. Should the Son of Heaven fail in filial piety toward parents, lack benevolence toward the people, show impropriety to ministers, or render unjust judgments, these are failures of the Grand Mentor. The Grand Guardian (Taibao) has the duty of support and forbearance. The Elder Dai's Records says: When the Son of Heaven behaves improperly, receives documents disrespectfully, speaks incoherently, makes discordant sounds, or breaches ritual decorum in movement...

This passage primarily explains ancient official systems and ritual institutions, along with traditional concepts regarding valuable objects.

Regarding the official system: The text mentions that after the Grand Preceptor (one of the Three Dukes) neglected his duties, the positions of Grand Commandant, Minister of Education, and Minister of Works—collectively known as the Three Dukes—were reestablished to assist the Son of Heaven. These high-ranking officials were responsible for helping the ruler harmonize yin and yang (referring to governing the state), staying close to the common people, and promoting moral transformation. Quoting from the "Counsel of Gao Yao" in the Book of Documents, it emphasizes that officials must govern on behalf of Heaven and should not treat official positions as personal tools, insisting on appointing suitable individuals to appropriate roles.

Regarding ritual institutions: The example of Xian Gao, a merchant from the state of Zheng during the Spring and Autumn period, is cited. When the Jin army attacked Zheng, Xian Gao used four pieces of tanned oxhide and twelve oxen to entertain the Jin troops, cleverly buying time for Zheng to prepare its defenses. This anecdote illustrates how the ancients valued ceremonial gift-giving in diplomatic protocol.

Regarding valuable objects: Four types of precious items are detailed:

1. Pearls: Large pearls could illuminate twelve chariots, making them treasured objects in ancient times.

2. Rhinoceros Horns: In the south, there were rhinoceroses weighing up to a thousand jin, with special-patterned horns at the tips of their noses. Some could repel dust and water, and when ground into powder, they could detoxify. Known as "chicken-startling rhinoceros horns," these would frighten chickens at night and were considered rare treasures throughout history.

3. Gold, Jade, and Exotic Plants, Birds, and Feathers: These were all referred to as treasures.

4. Shellfish: The East Sea produced patterned conch shells, with some reaching a foot in length, which were used as currency in antiquity. The Zhou dynasty employed shells and tortoise shells as money, while the Qin dynasty later switched to coins. The text also cites an ancient poem stating that accumulating wealth becomes a burden, and the wise understand that excessive possessions can hinder virtue. Historically, the most valuable forms of currency were, in order: pearls and jade, gold, and knife-shaped coins (currency).

This passage elucidates the Daoist political wisdom of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)" through two historical anecdotes and references from the Book of Rites.

The first story concerns Duan Ganmu, teacher of Marquis Wen of Wei (a Warring States period sage). He advocated governing people through the quiet virtue of non-action, much like how one could protect the state of Wei while merely reclining at rest. The term "reclining repose" signifies that effective guardianship requires no deliberate effort.

The second tale from the Zhuangzi recounts how when Lord Bai of Chu and Zixi prepared for battle, they sent envoys to recruit the recluse Shi Nan Yiliao (a Chu worthy). The hermit continued juggling pellets while reclining, ignoring the messengers. His actions conveyed multiple meanings: his reclining posture symbolized non-action; his calmness before drawn swords showed the unreliability of force; his continuous pellet-juggling metaphorically warned that mutual conflict would only bring mutual destruction. Both ministers, comprehending this, withdrew their troops—hence the典故 of "resolving conflict through pellet-play."

The text then explains "profound virtue (Xuande)" by quoting the Book of Rites' "Evolution of Rites" section: Human nature is like a sage-king's farmland that must be cultivated through ritual—using ceremonial norms to harmonize hardness and softness, sowing goodness through righteousness, weeding out evil through learning, uniting hearts like harvesting crops, and pacifying minds through music. Governing without ritual is like plowing without sowing; emphasizing ritual without righteousness resembles sowing without weeding; stressing righteousness without learning parallels farming without harvesting; pursuing learning without humaneness is like weeding without nourishment. These metaphors illustrate governance requires a complete system of moral cultivation.

The core philosophy reveals that true statecraft (Xuande), though seemingly contrary to conventional wisdom (eschewing force and cunning), achieves universal harmony. Just as gold serves as monetary standard (central) with cloth as supplement (peripheral), emperors govern effectively through such balanced measures.

This passage conveys two main themes: the first half discusses the Dao of "Great Accord" (大顺), while the latter half explores the art of warfare.

Regarding the Dao of Great Accord:

Just as a person may eat their fill without gaining weight, merely enjoying comfort without achieving true harmony is insufficient. Genuine "fulfillment" (肥) manifests at four levels: physical well-being represents personal fulfillment; familial harmony constitutes household fulfillment; orderly governance embodies national fulfillment; and universal peace signifies cosmic fulfillment. When the Son of Heaven (天子) rules with De (Virtue), feudal lords interact with ritual propriety, officials administer according to law, scholars engage with integrity, and commoners coexist peacefully—this is the state of "Great Accord." When the ruler aligns with the people's will, auspicious signs appear across Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—demonstrating the precious nature of "Accord" (顺).

Regarding the art of warfare:

True masters of warfare need not actually deploy weapons ("being weaponless" 无兵). The text enumerates legendary arms (the Fanruo bow, Yuchang dagger, Kunwu blade) to illustrate that genuine mastery transcends reliance on such implements. The essence of warfare lies first in strategy—analyzing comparative strengths, assessing celestial and terrestrial advantages, discerning right from wrong, and uniting hearts. One might emulate Zhuge Liang by fortifying defenses to blunt enemy morale, or follow Duke Mu of Qin's decisive destruction of retreat options to avenge humiliation. But reckless aggression leads to defeat, as witnessed by historical disasters—lamentations beyond Yanmen Pass, routs amid phantom alarms, where even mountain vegetation seemed to mourn.

The "Five Weapons" (五兵) refer to classical arms: dagger-axe (戈), spear (矛), staff (殳), halberd (戟), and shield (干). The Rites of Zhou records precise specifications for their hafts—long shafts for open battles, short grips for wooded terrain—requiring both sharpness and durability. Military systems also included drums, horns, banners, and armor, all governed by established protocols.

When people resemble the rhinoceroses and elephants of Kunyang in relying solely on brute strength, they lose the precious qualities of humility and compassion. Thus when two armies clash, the side that harbors pity in its heart will ultimately prevail.

Here lies the explanation: Although barbarian invasions at the borders, wolves preying upon the state, and treacherous villains disrupting order—all acts that defy the natural principles of heaven—may necessitate military campaigns, such actions remain a last resort. Excessive reliance on force violates the virtue of benevolence (De); only by maintaining a heart of mercy and compassion does one align with the Dao.

Chapter 76: "The People's Life" states: "When a tree grows too tall, it is easily broken."

Explanation: By nature, a tree should have sturdy roots at its base. If its branches grow thicker than its trunk, this violates the natural order. As the saying goes, "A tail too large cannot be wagged"—a warning for rulers. History records how the Zhao clan overturned Jin, the Tian clan usurped Qi, Zizhi incited chaos in Yan, and Taishu met failure in Zheng—all because ministers grew more powerful than their lords, disrupting the proper hierarchy of superior and inferior. "Arm-span" refers to the girth of a tree when embraced. In ancient times, mulberry and paper-mulberry trees suddenly sprouted in the Shang court, growing to arm-span thickness in just seven days. Duke Mu of Qin once observed trees of such girth at Jian Shu's gravesite—both were unnatural omens.

Chapter 78: "The Softest Under Heaven" states: "Nothing in the world is softer than water."

Explanation: Water’s nature is supremely gentle, always flowing downward. Countless rivers merge into the sea; mountain streams all pay homage to it. It transforms into mist and rises to the heavens, then falls as rain and dew to nourish all things. On a grand scale, rivers pour endlessly into the ocean yet never overflow it; on the smallest scale, even the tiniest creatures are sustained. Thus, Laozi uses water to symbolize the Dao. Water embodies three virtues (nourishment, humility, and inclusiveness) and seven attributes (detailed in commentaries). It fosters all beings and connects heaven and earth. It does not reject filth, conforms to any vessel—this is the ultimate softness, and so nothing can harm it. Yet when gathered into torrents, it can float the Ten Continents, traverse the Eight Poles, reflect the sun and moon, swallow the cosmos, reshape mountains and rivers, bear the Kun-Peng’s transformations, and erode boulders without effort—this is the ultimate strength, and so nothing can withstand it.

Regarding the "Lord of the Altars of Soil and Grain" (the ruler of the state):

Explanation: The Altars of Soil and Grain are the foundation of imperial rule. When ancient kings established their capitals, they erected ancestral temples (for honoring forebears and communing with heaven) to the left and the Altars of Soil and Grain (for venerating agriculture and preparing offerings, the root of the people’s sustenance) to the right—only then did they become true sovereigns.