《道德真經四子古道集解》Vol. 8

This chapter primarily discusses the art of statecraft, with its core philosophy being "governing through non-action (Wuwei)." Using harsh decrees to rule a country is like trying to stop boiling water by adding more hot water—it only makes the water boil more violently. The more prohibitions a ruler imposes, the more restless the people become; the more those in power demand, the fiercer the conflicts among those below.

The true foundation of governance lies in "non-action" (refraining from forceful interference). Just as putting out a fire simply requires removing the firewood, governing a state also requires knowing when to stop. During the era of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period (such as Duke Huan of Qi and Duke Wen of Jin), it was precisely the abuse of military force and punishments that led to rampant banditry and social upheaval.

In normal governance, one should win people over through Virtue (De); in warfare, one must prevail through unexpected strategies. The wise rulers of antiquity governed the world by following nature's course and avoiding disturbance to the people. How do I know this principle? Because I observe that today's world has too many prohibitions, yet the people grow poorer; rulers are too greedy for profit, yet the state becomes more chaotic.

The reason the people are difficult to govern is precisely because those above are too fond of meddling. Therefore, the sages say: When I refrain from reckless action, the people naturally transform themselves; when I maintain stillness, the people naturally correct themselves; when I avoid creating disturbances, the people naturally prosper; when I am free from desire, the people naturally return to simplicity. This is like pruning dead branches in spring, harvesting fruit in summer, storing grain in autumn, and preparing firewood in winter—only by following nature's rhythms can the people live in peace and contentment.

This passage primarily discusses the art of governance, with its core philosophy being "governing through non-action (Wuwei)." It draws upon multiple Daoist classics to illustrate:

Hard armor and sharp weapons cannot truly guarantee strength (as stated in the Tongxuan Jing). The more a state glorifies military might, the more its people will fall into conflict, leading to numerous disasters that ultimately result in chaos and bloodshed.

When people excessively pursue cleverness and artifice (what the Tongxuan Jing calls "an abundance of cunning intelligence"), all manner of extravagant and excessive crafts emerge. Zhuangzi (in the Nanhua Jing) points out that those who consider themselves wise and sagely have already lost their true nature. When cleverness is used for contention, it reaches extremes that produce bizarre phenomena; under harsh laws and oppressive governance, wicked hearts inevitably arise in response.

The stricter the laws (as the Tongxuan Jing states), the more thieves and bandits proliferate. Laws can punish the unfilial, but they cannot make people truly filial; they can penalize thieves, but they cannot foster integrity. In decadent times, people refrain from theft only out of fear of punishment—how does this compare to ancient times when folk customs were pure and honest, and the very thought of theft did not exist? It is like trying to stop boiling water by adding more heat—it only makes the water boil more fiercely. Those who truly understand the root of governance should remove the firewood from beneath the cauldron.

Thus, the sages say: "I govern through non-action (Wuwei), and the people transform themselves" (as stated in the Tongxuan Jing's "Dao Yuan" chapter); "I do not trouble the people with affairs, and they naturally prosper; I embrace stillness, and they naturally become upright; I am free from selfish desires, and they naturally return to simplicity."

The final chapter (Chapter 58) quotes Zhuangzi's "Pianmu" chapter to criticize rulers since the era of the Three Sovereigns: they use benevolence and righteousness as rules to constrain the people, just as they use compasses and squares to straighten wood—but in truth, this carves away at human nature. Using ropes and glue to bind things together is, in reality, an erosion of innate virtue.

This scripture primarily discusses the relationship between governance and virtue (De). The text points out that excessive emphasis on superficial norms like ritual propriety and righteousness to pacify the people ultimately leads to the loss of the natural Dao. When the ancient sage-kings ruled the world, they did not rely on coercive measures: they did not use hooks to straighten what was bent, ropes to correct what was straight, compasses to shape circles, or squares to form angles. They neither used glue for bonding nor cords for binding. All things grew naturally without understanding why, each finding its place without knowing the reason.

Governance that appears muddled and obscure (闷闷) results in people remaining simple and honest, whereas governance that is excessively meticulous (察察) breeds cunning and deceit among the people. This is like pointlessly carving holes in a wall to plant weeds—a futile effort—or counting grains of rice to cook or combing hair strand by strand. How can such petty cleverness save the world? The rulers of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties brought about the decline of their people’s livelihoods precisely because their decrees were overly harsh and exacting.

The text employs metaphors to illustrate this: Though the Feng River (酆水), a legendary deep body of water, is ten ren (an ancient unit of length) deep and so clear that even metal and stones at the bottom are visible, its excessive clarity drives away fish, turtles, and dragons, leaving it uninhabited. Crops cannot grow on bare rocks, and barren mountains host no deer, for they lack shelter. This embodies the principle that "when governance is muddled, the people remain pure" (其政闷闷其民淳淳).

Fortune and misfortune are intertwined (祸兮福所倚，福兮祸所伏), yet ordinary people struggle to perceive their deeper workings (孰知其极). The rulers of the three dynasties mistook harsh scrutiny for wisdom, demanding their subordinates to please superiors with trivial administrative achievements. Such practices are like working with leather—applying too much force tears it apart, ultimately leading to social chaos and the collapse of the state. This seemingly upright method of governance (其无正邪) has, in truth, strayed far from the Dao.

The Tongxuan Jing states: In ancient times, people were transformed through proper governance with simplicity and efficacy; in later ages, misguided governance brought hardship and inevitable failure. The true Way was mistaken for strange tales (the Dongling Jing adds: In recent antiquity, truly upright individuals have become rare. When governance is straightforward, the people remain pure. The multitude can be influenced by the true Way—punishment should not be the means).

Goodness was mistaken for heresy (the Dongling Jing notes: In recent antiquity, deceitful people have multiplied. When governance is excessive and harsh, the people become deceitful. Before condemning the corruption of the masses, one must first examine whether one is truly upright). The people have been lost in such confusion for a long time.

The Tongxuan Jing criticizes later ages: Treating shallow benevolence and righteousness as rules is like managing people solely with compasses and carpenter's squares. Without these tools, circles and squares cannot be drawn, nor can crooked wood be straightened—yet if rulers rely only on such instruments, the people will become scheming. These are mere tricks of artifice, incapable of truly governing a state.

Thus, the sages (the Tongxuan Jing illustrates: When water is murky, fish gasp for breath; when governance is harsh, the people revolt. When those above are greedy, those below become deceitful; when those above act recklessly, those below find no peace. Failing to understand the root of governing through non-action (Wuwei), they instead resort to severe punishments—like digging a trench to stop water or carrying firewood to extinguish a fire. In name, they govern; in reality, they worsen the chaos. Using boiling water to stop boiling only makes it boil more fiercely. Those who understand governance know simply to remove the firewood) govern with simplicity yet achieve order. Their needs are few and easily satisfied, for they cultivate the root. This manifests as:

Being square yet not injurious (the Tongxuan Jing's "Daode" chapter states: In ancient times, the Dao governed all—squareness did not require a ruler; the Zhuangzi says the ancients possessed the constant Way—squareness was not achieved through tools).

Being pure yet not piercing (the Tongxuan Jing states: In ancient times, Virtue (De) nurtured all—purity did not harm the people).

Being straightforward yet not unrestrained, bright yet not glaring. One who embodies these four qualities governs by truly cultivating the Way.

The Nanhua Jing (i.e., Zhuangzi) records an eternal natural principle from ancient times: round things do not need compasses (they are naturally perfect), and straight things do not require rulers (they are inherently upright). The Tongxuan Jing (i.e., Wenzi) adds that without external interference, things remain upright without excess, and thus the people naturally understand frugality.

The Nanhua Jing further elaborates: bent things need no hooks to straighten, and straight things need no ropes to align. Light shines without dazzling (Tongxuan Jing explains: without flaunting talent, maintaining inner radiance keeps the people simple). Ancient sages did not exhaust themselves with calculations or premeditated plans—they shone naturally without glaring.

On governing the state and nurturing life (corresponding to Daode Jing Chapter 59): the Nanhua Jing states that true rulers of antiquity, even as Sons of Heaven, were never arrogant, and though possessing the wealth of the world, remained unassuming. To know frugality amid riches is the mark of true Virtue (De). Only when the people are frugal can the state endure.

To govern people and align with the Dao (Tongxuan Jing analogy: the ruler and people are like a city wall and its foundation—only with a solid foundation can the wall stand firm; only with prosperous people can the nation be strong), frugality is paramount (Tongxuan Jing notes: ancient sages ruled through the Dao, actively reducing desires. What seems like having little achieves greatness—this is the way of longevity). Only through frugality (Tongxuan Jing says: rulers should cultivate vitality through restraint) can one prepare in advance (Tongxuan Jing explains: frugality spares the people from famine).

This preparation is called "accumulating abundant Virtue" (Tongxuan Jing analogy: Virtue piles up like earth forming mountains, water gathering into rivers—nothing succeeds without accumulation). With abundant Virtue, one overcomes all obstacles (Tongxuan Jing states: skilled rulers accumulate Virtue; only when it is deep can they mobilize the people's strength). This power is unfathomable (Tongxuan Jing observes: the sages of high antiquity rejected extravagance and held to frugality, hence their endurance).

Only by mastering this unfathomable power can one govern the state (Tongxuan Jing emphasizes: ancient sages dared not be extravagant or arrogant; by holding to frugality, they endured). Possessing the root of governance (Tongxuan Jing says: the people are the foundation of the state; frugality is the root of human conduct) is like a tree with deep roots (Tongxuan Jing analogy: ruler and people are like a tree and its roots—only with deep roots can the tree stand firm). This is the way to lasting peace (Tongxuan Jing concludes: the people are the roots, the state is the branches—only when the roots are strong can the foliage flourish).

This passage synthesizes concepts from the Daode Jing and the Nanhua Jing (i.e., Zhuangzi), primarily discussing how sage rulers should govern the state by emulating the natural Dao. The core idea is that truly enlightened rulers should practice Wuwei (non-action) like heaven and earth nourishing all things, thereby achieving universal harmony.

The ancient sages comprehended the mystery of "heavenly joy" (the state of harmonious coexistence with nature): They could dissolve all things without appearing violent, bestow blessings across generations without claiming benevolence, exist beyond time without pursuing longevity, and sustain heaven-earth while shaping creation without flaunting skill. Those who attain this state incur no celestial wrath or human censure, remain unburdened by external matters, and face no reproach from spirits.

Governing a great state resembles frying small fish (which shouldn't be flipped excessively) — it requires adhering to the principle of Wuwei. Sages understand the natural patterns of heaven and earth, which constitute the fundamental Dao. Harmony with celestial law is called "heavenly joy," so those who know it invite no divine resentment; harmony with the people is called "folk joy," so those who understand it face no criticism.

Enlightened sages live in accordance with nature's flow, dissolve into the myriad creatures after death, merge with Yin-Qi in stillness, and move in rhythm with Yang-Qi's waves. Thus they achieve: no spirit disturbances (due to the sage's focused, tranquil mind), no exhaustion of Shen (spirit), and spontaneous alignment of all beings. This represents the state where an empty, serene mind communes with heaven-earth and the ten thousand things — the highest rulers transform people without words.

This scripture primarily discusses the principles of governance and military strategy, with its core ideas being "governing through non-action (Wuwei)" and "overcoming hardness with softness."

Regarding statecraft, the text states: When rulers constantly issue commands ("having words"), they ultimately harm the people. This doesn't mean the deities fail to protect the populace, but rather that the most sublime form of governance ("the divine nature of spiritual beings") resembles the sage's approach of avoiding unnecessary intervention ("government through non-action"). True sages in governing neither overreach ("having action") to harm the people nor remain completely passive ("non-action"), but maintain the balanced way of "governing through non-action." When rulers and people refrain from harming each other, virtuous governance (De) naturally manifests, bringing harmony and peace to the world.

Concerning relations between major states, the scripture observes: Great nations should emulate the humility and inclusiveness of river deltas ("lower reaches"), becoming the convergent center of all under heaven. The true Dao doesn't prevail through military might ("not conquering through strength"), but through benevolent virtue (De) that naturally attracts allegiance. Ancient sages resembled female animals ("the feminine") in their quiet receptivity, thus maintaining enduring sovereignty. The feminine often overcomes the masculine through stillness ("triumphing over the male through quietude")—this reveals the crux of military victory: responding to chaos with stability, controlling movement through stillness, avoiding rash actions.

The text ultimately emphasizes: Sages maintain a soft and quiet attitude ("holding to the feminine"), yet accomplish mighty achievements. By steadfastly observing the principles of quietude and softness ("guarding the way of stillness and feminine restraint"), their meritorious virtue (De) never diminishes—this constitutes the natural pattern of the Dao.

This passage elucidates the wisdom of interaction between large and small states. When a powerful nation humbly treats smaller states ("taking the lower position" signifies modest deference), it naturally wins their allegiance. The Tongxuan Jing explains that this practice of the strong serving the weak is called "transforming others" (referring to the wisdom of reversing conventional logic).

Conversely, when smaller states respectfully serve larger ones, they gain acceptance from the powerful. The Tongxuan Jing notes that the weak challenging the strong violates cosmic principles. Thus, sometimes humility leads to acquisition (if a small state follows the Dao, it obtains without contention), while other times deference brings direct attainment (if a strong state follows the Dao, it conquers without warfare).

A great state ultimately seeks to nurture more people (Chongxu Jing states: "We should pacify smaller states—relying on force leads to swift downfall"). Smaller states naturally wish to align with stronger powers (Chongxu Jing remarks: "Serving a great state is the path to stability"). In this way, both achieve their respective aspirations (Nanhua Jing says: "To renew the world, cease warfare, embrace brotherhood, and honor ancestral rites together—this is the sage’s method and humanity’s shared desire"). Hence, the stronger side must remain humble (Tongxuan Jing teaches: "The ancient sages embraced humility and stillness because they understood the principle of lowering oneself—only by descending can one ascend, while arrogance has no footing").

Chapter 62 speaks of the Dao as the mystery of all things (Nanhua Jing states: "The ancient sages governed by first cultivating themselves, embodying wuwei (non-action) and integrity before acting, undertaking only what they could truly accomplish. Later rulers imposed their standards on others—who dared disobey? This deceives innate nature. Governing this way is like crossing seas on foot, digging rivers for mosquitoes to carry mountains—futile labor. Better to follow the Three Sovereigns’ wuwei Dao, effortlessly achieving natural order").

The Dao (Tongxuan Jing explains: "The Dao generates all things, harmonizes yin-yang, transforms through the seasons, divides into the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and grants each its proper place—this is called the Dao") is the fundamental mystery of existence (Nanhua Jing declares: "The Dao is the source from which all things arise").

This passage expounds the core Daoist perspectives on good and evil as well as governance, synthesizing ideas from the Nanhua Jing (the Zhuangzi) and Tongxuan Jing.

For virtuous individuals, the Dao is the most precious treasure. All beings thrive when they attain the Dao, and all endeavors succeed when aligned with it. The easiest path in the world is doing good—which means maintaining inner purity through Wuwei (non-action), following one's inherent nature, eliminating excessive desires, resisting external temptations, and preserving one's authentic essence without altering its fundamental character.

For the unvirtuous, the Dao nevertheless remains their protector. All beings perish when they lose the Dao, and all endeavors fail when opposing it. The most difficult path in the world is unvirtuous conduct—manifested as desires obscuring clarity, hypocrisy and cunning, restlessness and greed—all of which violate human nature.

Noble words can educate the people (using the Dao to instruct and De (Virtue) to guide can encourage goodness), while exemplary conduct can influence others (for those who refuse admonition,威严刑罚威严和刑罚 may be employed as restraints). Why should the unvirtuous be abandoned? (Such stern warnings ensure none are cast aside and all resources find purpose.)

Thus, the Son of Heaven was established (ancient rulers instituted the Son of Heaven to uphold the world's proper order, returning to governance through Wuwei and the tranquility of natural spontaneity. The throne existed not for indulgence but to prevent the strong oppressing the weak, the many bullying the few, the cunning deceiving the simple, or the bold assaulting the timid).

The Three Dukes and Nine Ministers were also instituted (as one person's wisdom cannot govern all under heaven; these officials assisted so even remote regions with differing customs could receive beneficence, while feudal lords were enfeoffed to educate various territories).

Though possessing the jade insignia of power (authority being the ruler's chariot), the ancient sage-kings exemplified austerity: Emperor Yao was gaunt, Emperor Shun dark-skinned, and Emperor Yu's hands and feet bore calluses. They sought not personal enrichment but the world's benefit and the people's welfare. From the Son of Heaven to minor officials, all prioritized the populace's wellbeing above all.

This passage explains how ancient sage-kings governed the world through "non-action" (Wuwei). Ordinary people who constantly scheme yet refuse to labor cannot expect abundant food and clothing. Historical ministers like Yi Yin (renowned Shang dynasty statesman), Lü Wang (Jiang Ziya), Baili Xi (Spring and Autumn period official), and Guan Zhong (Qi state chancellor) all achieved greatness through diligent personal effort.

When the Three Sovereigns (Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor) ruled antiquity, they didn't rely on frequent decrees—their teachings naturally spread throughout the land. Their power came from "spiritual transformation" (moral influence through De), not punishments or executions. True governance operates through subtle, transformative inspiration.

The sage-kings emulated the nature of rivers and oceans: appearing inactive yet naturally drawing all tributaries to them. By not forcing outcomes, they attained results; by refraining from deliberate action, they accomplished great deeds. Like Zhuangzi's "Land of Established Virtue," where people lived in primal simplicity requiring minimal governance.

The highest form of rule is Wuwei—when rulers refrain from contrived action, subjects naturally fulfill their roles. Though Emperor Shun (of the Youyu clan) practiced benevolent governance, he appeared more deliberate compared to the legendary Tai Shi (an earlier sage-king). Tai Shi slept peacefully and woke untroubled, his wisdom pure without deceit, his virtue genuine without pretense—embodying the true Dao of non-action.

This passage elucidates the core Daoist concept of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)." Drawing from the Scripture of Penetrating Mystery (Tongxuan Jing) and the Scripture of Southern Florescence (Nanhua Jing), it explains the meaning of Wuwei: genuine action means acting in accordance with nature (acting through non-action), handling affairs as if making no deliberate effort (managing without managing), and apprehending the Dao as if savoring the flavorless (tasting the tasteless).

Through the dialectical relationship between great/small and much/little, the text reveals nature's operating principles: the great is founded upon the small, and abundance originates from scarcity. Sages emulate the Dao of heaven—appearing weak and insignificant (seeing the small), yet accomplishing great deeds; seeming incomplete (seeing the little), yet achieving perfection.

Regarding human relations, it states that repaying resentment with virtue (De) constitutes the correct path. Those who give generously receive beautiful returns, while those who harbor deep enmity inevitably invite misfortune. By observing a person's conduct, one can foresee their future outcomes.

In approaching tasks, it emphasizes: tackle difficulties at their easiest points (plan for the difficult while it's still easy), and accomplish great works by starting with minutiae (undertake the great through small beginnings). All difficult matters under heaven begin simply (difficult affairs must be handled where they're easy), and all great undertakings accumulate from details (great matters must be addressed where they're small). Rather than indulging in trivial pursuits like board games, one should devote that time to cultivating the Dao.

Finally, it describes the sage's attainment: gaining trust without speaking (trust without words), embodying benevolence without giving (compassion without charity), achieving order without acting (governance without action), and accomplishing all while appearing inactive (fulfillment without striving). This represents the transformative power of aligning with heaven's way through utmost sincerity.

Ancient rulers who excelled at governing the world emulated the nature of rivers and oceans. The sea appears to practice wuwei (non-action), yet all streams naturally flow into it. Precisely because it does not forcibly pursue greatness, it achieves true greatness.

Those who make promises lightly often struggle to fulfill them. Actions that appear impressive but lack sincerity—even during the eras of the Five Emperors and Three Sovereigns (legendary sage-kings of antiquity)—will lose their foundation if not truly aligned with the Dao.

Viewing matters as overly simple inevitably leads to greater difficulties. Later rulers who lacked proper governing principles yet sought to rule multitudes found the task impossibly hard. The sages (those who attained the Dao) understood that success is difficult while failure comes easily, that establishing principles is hard while abandoning them is simple. Thus they focused on the root of the Dao, and the wise all comprehended the profound meaning of wuwei (acting through non-action).

Abandoning what's simple to forcibly pursue difficulty is the folly of ignorance. When those above practice wuwei, those below naturally follow suit.

Chapter 64 explains: In the Dharma-Ending Age, people's true nature becomes obscured by corrupt desires, causing behavior to deviate from the proper path. Governing a state in this condition inevitably leads to chaos; cultivating the body in this state produces falsehood. Without understanding the Dao, one cannot return to the source; without comprehending De (Virtue), one cannot maintain purity. Human nature is originally pure, but prolonged indulgence in deviant paths makes one forget the root. Just as clear water becomes muddied by sediment, human nature becomes tainted by perverse thoughts.

The reason people lose their states and lives, becoming laughingstocks to the world, often lies in their obsession with improper cravings. Forcing outcomes brings failure; clinging leads to loss. Like using a fan in winter or wearing furs in summer—such attachments serve no purpose. All things ultimately return to dust—what value does clinging hold? Thus it is said: Through non-forcing, one avoids failure; through non-attachment, one avoids loss.

During stable times, maintaining order comes easily (wisdom to discern right from wrong determines fortune or misfortune). Before signs manifest, planning proves simple (the balance between movement and stillness, public and private concerns forms the crux of advantage and harm).

Disasters befall us because we invite them; blessings come because we cultivate them. Fragile things break easily, and subtle matters disperse quickly. As the Scripture of Penetrating Mystery (Tongxuan Jing) states: Accumulating good deeds brings blessings, while accumulating evil deeds invites calamity.

One must prepare before events occur. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery observes that people often overlook minor harms and dismiss subtle matters, only to face major disasters later. People tend to remedy situations after calamities strike, failing to exercise caution in small matters. In truth, preventing misfortune is far easier than repairing its aftermath.

Governance should begin before chaos arises. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery teaches that those who understand the Dao (the Way) handle small matters with care, ensuring great misfortunes never take root. Modern people neglect to address issues while they are still minor, waiting until disasters fully manifest—by then, even divine beings cannot help. The roots of calamity are complex; once unleashed, they become nearly impossible to reverse.

A tree thick enough to embrace began as a tender sprout. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery illustrates: A tree so large it takes ten men to encircle it starts as a slender shoot. A nine-tiered tower is built basket by basket of earth; a hundred-ren-high terrace rises from its foundation, accumulated step by step. A thousand-mile journey begins with a single step. The scripture uses the metaphor of a lame turtle traveling a thousand miles: as long as one keeps moving forward, small steps accumulate into great distances.

Forcing outcomes leads to failure. The Scripture of the Numinous Grotto (Dongling Jing) warns: Those obsessed with purity see black as filth; those greedy for wealth become blind to all else; those lost in heresy fail to recognize the value of the true path. People in degenerate times do not lack methods—rather, their excessive pursuit of technique makes them clumsy. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery explains: Those who chase external things invariably find themselves exhausted; those mired in heresy invariably fail—all because their own obsessions turn against them.

Clinging stubbornly leads to loss. The Scripture of the Numinous Grotto notes: Those who favor blackness see white as unclean; those overly enamored with fine horses overlook the virtues of other animals; excessive worship of spirits may anger the gods instead. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery clarifies: The rulers who brought ruin upon their states and themselves, becoming objects of ridicule, all succumbed to insatiable desires.

Thus, the sages understood this principle. The Scripture of Penetrating Mystery poses the question: In an age where all are lost in devotion to spirits and deities, who can remain clear-headed?

The key to governing a nation lies in following the Great Dao (the Way), not in political maneuvering. Noble individuals act with upright Qi (vital energy), while petty people indulge in perverse Qi. Thus, the sage (one who has attained the Dao) neither acts recklessly nor fails, neither clings nor loses.

"Not acting recklessly means not failing" (The Tongxuan Jing states: Those obsessed with improper sacrifices without regard for consequences are infected by perverse Qi. Hence it says "Wuwei [non-action] prevents failure"). "Not clinging means not losing" (The Tongxuan Jing explains: People in chaotic times cling to ghostly matters, disregarding future calamities—this is the work of perverse Qi. Thus it states "Non-attachment prevents loss").

People often fail when success seems imminent (The Tongxuan Jing clarifies: The seeds of fortune and misfortune are subtle and hard to discern. Petty men, unaware of how disasters arise, act rashly and fall into error because they neglect these subtleties). If one remains as cautious at the end as at the beginning, nothing will fail (The "Fuyan" chapter of Tongxuan Jing says: Officials fail through misguided policies, filial piety decays through poor endings, calamities arise from willful action, and illness roots in carelessness. Therefore, being cautious till completion prevents failure).

Thus the sage (The Tongxuan Jing states: Sages perceive the patterns of things from start to finish. When King Zhou used ivory chopsticks, Jizi foresaw his future extravagance; when Lu State buried figurines with the dead, Confucius lamented this ritual impropriety—seeing the beginning reveals the end) seeks what others neglect (The Nanhua Jing [Zhuangzi] says: What the ancients sought was precisely what ordinary people couldn't seek—the highest pursuit being the Dao), and does not value rare goods (The Tongxuan Jing states: The ancients neither treasured hard-to-obtain valuables nor prized useless objects).

They learn what others don't study (The Nanhua Jing explains: What the ancients studied was precisely what ordinary people couldn't learn—the highest knowledge being Dao-realization), and correct common faults (The Tongxuan Jing says: Regarding virtue, the ancients practiced even the smallest good; regarding faults, they corrected even the slightest error). In this way, they assist all things in their natural development (The Tongxuan Jing concludes: Ancient sages, whose nature harmonized with the Dao, understood without study, saw without looking, and heard without listening).

[Note] "Tongxuan Jing" refers to Wenzi, and "Nanhua Jing" to Zhuangzi—both foundational Daoist texts. Concepts like "Wuwei" (non-action) and "non-attachment" represent the Daoist core philosophy of non-interference and non-possessiveness in worldly affairs.