《道德真經集註(二)》Vol. 11

Those of superior capacity, upon hearing of the Dao, diligently cultivate it; those of average capacity waver between belief and doubt when hearing of the Dao; while those of inferior capacity laugh loudly at it—were the Dao not laughed at, it would not be worthy of being called the true Dao.

Emperor Huizong of Song (in his Imperial Commentary) explains that the term "scholar" here refers to those with aspirations toward the Dao. Those of superior capacity, upon hearing the great Dao, can genuinely accumulate cultivation practice and maintain sincere devotion over time. Those of average capacity harbor doubts in their hearts—this skepticism causes their commitment to the Dao to waver, alternating between belief and skepticism. Those of inferior capacity lack both steadfast conviction and sufficient wisdom to comprehend, hence their tendency to mock. The Dao has no concrete form, color, sound, or flavor to grasp; it naturally stands far removed from ordinary people's sensory desires. As Zhuangzi said: sublime music cannot enter vulgar ears, and profound truths cannot linger in mundane minds.

Master Bi Xu (Chen Jingyuan) further elaborates: those of superior capacity possess inherently pure and serene natures—their minds are empty and wuwei (non-action), utterly untainted and unchanging in focus. Upon hearing the Dao, they transcendently grasp its mysteries. While others may perceive them as diligently cultivating through hardship, in truth their innate nature naturally aligns with the Dao, requiring no forced effort. Those of average capacity have middling dispositions—when not employed by the world, they think of retreating to mountain forests to practice breathing techniques (Daoist cultivation methods) and daoyin exercises to nourish their forms for longevity; when employed by the world, they think of achieving merit and fame, emphasizing ruler-subject propriety, even sacrificing life for righteousness. This is the state of "seeming to exist yet seeming absent." Those of inferior capacity have turbid natures—their eyes crave beautiful sights, their ears delight in decadent music, their mouths lust for fine flavors, their desires knowing no bounds. When unsatisfied, they become anxious and fearful; hearing of the principles of purity and wuwei, they instead mock and ridicule. Were the Dao not laughed at by such inferior individuals, it could not be considered truly pure and sublime.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) concludes: The extraordinary Dao is fundamentally beyond ordinary comprehension. Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) adds: The Dao has no form and thus cannot be seen, no sound and thus cannot be heard. Without first seeing through the illusory nature of all things to attain a state of clear mind and extraordinary insight, one cannot truly comprehend the Dao.

This passage discusses how people at different levels comprehend and approach the Dao (the Way). The lowest type of people laugh at the Dao when they hear it, finding it absurd. Those of middling capability remain half-convinced and wavering in their attitude. Only those who truly understand will diligently cultivate it, keeping it firmly in mind without slackening. Confucius once praised Yan Hui (his most accomplished disciple) as one who genuinely grasped the principles—this exemplifies the behavior of superior practitioners.

Huang Maocai explains: Superior practitioners comprehend immediately upon hearing and thus practice earnestly; middling practitioners cannot fully believe and therefore vacillate; inferior practitioners completely fail to understand and only mock. True adepts in this world are exceedingly rare, and even those of middling attainment are uncommon—the vast majority are ordinary people incapable of understanding. This is why the Dao remains so difficult for the world to grasp.

The text then cites ancient sayings to illustrate the Dao's paradoxical nature: The luminous Dao appears obscure; the level Dao seems rugged; the advancing Dao appears to retreat; exalted De (Virtue) resembles a valley in its humility; the purest white seems sullied; expansive virtue seems insufficient; those who establish merit appear indolent; the truest essence seems mutable; the greatest square has no corners; the most precious vessel takes the longest to complete; the loudest sound is inaudible; the grandest form is shapeless. Thus, the Dao remains subtle and nameless, yet it nourishes all things and accomplishes everything.

Chen Jingyuan elaborates further: True adepts possess magnanimous hearts, merging with all things, yet appearing fragmented like uneven threads—useless to the mundane world. Those of lofty virtue govern through Wuwei (non-action), their minds as fathomless as the void. The purest individuals are like snow covering all things, never shunning even the filthiest places. Sun Deng remarked that those with profound virtue perceive the essence while overlooking trivialities, just as shrewd merchants conceal their treasures—the virtuous appear dull on the surface. Lu Xisheng adds that those who truly bestow kindness never flaunt their benevolence—this is the meaning of "expansive virtue seems insufficient," referring to performing good deeds in secret without displaying merit.

This passage presents annotations by several Daoist scholars on concepts like "the great square has no corners" from the Daode Jing. Let me explain the essential meanings layer by layer:

Wu Jun, in his Discourse on the Fundamental Principles, states that the work of cultivating the Dao should be conducted in secrecy, while faults must be corrected openly. It resembles how simple and unadorned people act without ostentation, like plain silk untainted by colors, with inner radiance not displayed outwardly. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (in his Kaiyuan-era commentary) explains that ordinary people polish their reputations to appear upright, but this merely reflects rigid adherence to doctrine. True Dao attainers remain uncontaminated even while dwelling in the mundane world, harmonizing with convention without seeking novelty—this constitutes genuine "cornerlessness" (wu yu).

Yan Junping (a Han dynasty Daoist scholar) proposes that the Dao's movement begins in emptiness and ultimately returns to emptiness. It nurtures all things through the method of "lending" (dai): in motion it generates the myriad beings, in stillness it perfects the world. Lu Xisheng supplements this by noting the Dao selflessly nourishes all creation without seeking recompense. Thus, though all things receive its grace, they remain unaware; when ordinary people hear of such principles, they merely laugh.

Su Zhe (styled Yingbin, a Song dynasty literatus) observes that ancient truth-speakers already articulated similar ideas. The Dao manifests through twelve concrete phenomena, yet its complete essence remains eternally concealed in namelessness. It perfects all things by regulating excess to supplement deficiency.

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Zhenren Jingxian) interprets thus: The Dao itself is supremely impartial, yet people comprehend it at varying levels. Those who attain the Dao follow worldly conventions to preserve true principles, never deliberately courting novelty—thus outwardly they may appear flawed. The highest De (Virtue) resembles an empty valley that seems unfilled. While worldly people pursue spotless reputations, genuine cultivators blend with impurity despite inner purity. Those with ultimate De never flaunt it, hence seeming deficient.

Ye Mengde (Song dynasty scholar) summarizes this state: brightness appears as darkness, level ground seems rugged, advancement resembles retreat. All these describe the wondrous condition where Dao attainers transcend apparent contradictions.

True wisdom often appears incomprehensible to ordinary minds. The highest virtue (De) resembles a valley—never proclaiming its own merit; the purest substance can embrace impurity; expansive virtue always seems insufficient, thus enabling continuous progress; those who establish virtue appear indolent, for genuine cultivation requires no deliberate display.

The simple and guileless seem changeable yet maintain constancy within; the most square objects have no sharp corners; the most precious vessels take the longest time to complete; the grandest sound is nearly inaudible; the greatest form has no shape. The Dao (the Way) always conceals itself in inconspicuous places, defying singular interpretation. Precisely for this reason, the Dao nourishes all things, allowing everything to flourish through it.

Huang Maocai remarked: Those who cultivate the Dao focus on inner refinement, leaving no room for external display. Ordinary people struggle to comprehend this state, hence they mistake luminous Dao for darkness, advancement for retreat, even paths for rugged ones. Supreme virtue is misjudged as emptiness, purity as defilement, expansive virtue as insufficiency, virtue-building as laziness, simplicity as fickleness. People seek squareness yet find no corners—for this is the ultimate squareness; they await vessels yet see no completion—for these are the most precious vessels; they listen for sound yet hear nothing—for this is the grandest resonance; they search for form yet find none—for this is the greatest formlessness. Thus those with shallow understanding often ridicule these truths. Though subtle and nameless, understood by few, the Dao nourishes all without exception—preserving life, nurturing essence (Jing) and spirit (Shen), accomplishing without exhaustion. Nothing in this world compares to the Dao.

Regarding the chapter "Dao gives birth to the One": The primordial Dao first generates "One" (the undifferentiated primal state), which divides into "Two" (Yin-Yang energies), then produces "Three" (Heaven, Earth and Humanity), from which all things emerge. Initially there was only existence beyond "non-existence"—not even the concept of "nothingness"—this marks the origin of "One." Heaven attains clarity through One, Earth achieves stability through Two, then water emerges and fire follows. When essence and vital energy (Qi) are complete, spirit (Shen) arrives. Heaven begins forming "One" in the North, Earth forms "Two" in the South, and Humanity forms "Three" at the center. When these Three Powers unite, the ten thousand things differentiate. We quantify phenomena as "myriad," yet proceeding from this point, even the most skilled mathematician could never complete the tally.

Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name Bixuzi) explained: The Dao is the emptiness within emptiness, the "non-being" within non-being.

The concept of "Wu" (non-being) refers to the most primordial state of chaos, transcending what language can describe. When this chaotic state begins to move and transform, it forms the "Hunlun" (the undifferentiated unity of the cosmos). Hunlun is the "One," the original undivided Qi (vital energy), within which already lies the seed of Shenming (divine illumination). Shenming is the "Two," manifesting as two opposing forces: Shen (spirit) and Ming (light). With this differentiation, three types of Qi emerge: the clear and light Qi ascends to form Heaven, the heavy and turbid Qi descends to form Earth, and the harmonizing Qi gives rise to humanity. Once the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and humanity) are complete, the myriad things are generated—hence the saying, "Three gives birth to the myriad things."

Sima Guang explains: The Dao first produces "One" (the process from non-being to being), "One" divides into "Two" (Yin and Yang Qi), and "Two" combines with the harmonizing Qi to form "Three." Su Zhe argues that the Dao itself is not "One," but for the sake of illustrating its relationship with other things, "One" is used to represent the Dao. Though the myriad things differ vastly, they all contain Yin and Yang Qi, achieving harmony through the harmonizing Qi. Lu Dian points out that "One" corresponds to Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), "Two" to Yin and Yang, and "Three" to the harmonizing Qi produced by their interaction.

Cao Dao Chong emphasizes that this reveals the origin of the Dao—its principle is profoundly subtle, its language profoundly mysterious, requiring personal realization. Chen Xiang Gu considers "One" the initial state of pristine simplicity, "Two" the formation of Heaven's essence, and "Three" the shaping of Earth's form. Ye Meng De clarifies that though the Dao divides into Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang always retain the unity of the Dao. "One" can produce "Two," and when "Two" contains "One," it becomes "Three"—this harmonizing Qi ultimately gives rise to the myriad things.

This scripture primarily discusses the generative process of "the Dao begets all things" and the philosophy of Yin-Yang balance.

Daoism holds that the universe originally emerged from the Dao (cosmic origin), which produced the "One" (primordial Qi, or chaos). This Qi circulated and divided into the two energies of Yin and Yang, whose interaction then gave rise to the Three Powers (San Cai)—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity (the three fundamental forms of existence). Once the Three Powers were established, all things came into being. Zhu Xi explained that the symbolic meaning of the numbers here is crucial: "One" represents the Yang number, "Two" represents the Yin number, and "Three" is the result of their union.

Huang Maocai emphasized that understanding the principle of how all things are generated is essential for comprehending the path to longevity. The Dao is present at every stage of this generative process: the Dao resides within the "One," the "One" resides within Yin and Yang, Yin and Yang reside within the Three Powers, and the Three Powers reside within all things. If a person can trace this chain of generation, they can recognize that their origin lies in the Dao.

Lin Dong cited Zhuangzi to explain that the progression from the "Dao" to the "One" and then to the "Three" is a natural law. The number "Three" is particularly significant because all things are born from Three, and Three is born from One.

Finally, the text discusses the principle that "all things carry Yin and embrace Yang": everything bears Yin Qi (stillness, coldness) on its back while holding Yang Qi (movement, warmth) in its embrace. This is like animals fearing death yet seeking life, or plants avoiding cold yet gravitating toward warmth. The outer skin or shell of an object embodies condensed Yin Qi, while its interior contains Yang Qi. The two energies blend and harmonize within the object, creating a state of balance. Just as a nobleman rests at night (following Yin) and a sage governs by day (following Yang), one must grasp the equilibrium point between Yin and Yang.

This scripture elucidates the Daoist core concepts of "Yin-Yang" and "Chonghe Qi" (harmonizing vital energy). When the human body is supported by Yin Qi (representing tangible matter), the marrow becomes substantial within, for the marrow is where Yang Qi (intangible energy) gathers. Only when these two energies circulate through "Chonghe Qi" (a harmonizing and balancing force) can complete physical and mental wellbeing be achieved.

When Chonghe Qi flourishes, neither form nor spirit becomes deficient, and vitality thrives. Conversely, when Chonghe Qi weakens and dissipates, form and spirit separate, leading to death. Sima Guang observed that all things take Yin-Yang as their substance and Chong Qi as their function. Wang Anshi interpreted the character "Chong" (冲) as combining "water" (水) and "center" (中), symbolizing the harmonizing energy between heaven and earth.

Different schools have distinct names for this "Chong Qi": Daoists call it "Chong Qi," while physicians term it "Wei Qi" (the fundamental life-sustaining energy). Cao Daochong emphasized that physical form belongs to Yin and spiritual energy to Yang; only through the mediation of Chong Qi can internal and external harmony be achieved. Liu Ji regarded Chong Qi as a transcendent harmonizing force beyond Yin-Yang—though supremely soft and weak, it is most precious, much like how rulers humble themselves with titles like "the Solitary" or "the Unworthy" to signify its importance.

Huang Maocai cited Zhuangzi to illustrate: extreme Yin Qi brings austerity and destruction, while extreme Yang Qi creates scorching heat. Only when these two blend to produce Chonghe Qi can all things be generated. Cheng Dachang referenced Liezi's view: clear Qi ascends to form heaven, turbid Qi descends to form earth, while harmonizing Qi constitutes the human body—demonstrating how the interaction of Yin-Yang gives rise to a third, balanced state. These interpretations all point to the same core principle: Yin and Yang energies must be mediated by Chonghe Qi to maintain equilibrium in both life and nature.

This passage elucidates the principle of harmonizing Yin-Yang and maintaining humility in lowliness. All things are formed through the dynamic interaction of Yin and Yang Qi (vital energies). However, deliberately pursuing "harmonious blending" can disrupt natural balance.

Lin Dong explains: The human back belongs to Yin and governs stillness, hence called "carrying Yin" (负阴); while sensory organs like eyes, ears, nose and mouth on the front belong to Yang and govern activity, thus termed "embracing Yang" (抱阳). The mutual fusion of these two energies achieves harmonious equilibrium.

People generally dislike being called "orphaned," "widowed," or "unworthy" (不谷, ancient term for deficiency), yet rulers deliberately use these terms for themselves. Imperial commentary notes: Nothing flourishes without eventual decline—the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang follows natural law. Only sages can master these cycles of fullness and emptiness without losing the Dao's balanced harmony.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) observes: Precisely because rulers understand humble self-positioning, they become worthy of noble status. Su Zhe (Yingbin) adds: Ordinary people, ignorant of existence's source, habitually despise the few while exalting the many. But ancient sages recognized that rulers' self-deprecating titles paradoxically reveal their wisdom.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) argues: Rulers intentionally adopt the humblest epithets precisely because they occupy supreme positions. Huang Maocai uses water as metaphor: Water always flows downward yet approaches the Dao—rulers calling themselves "orphaned" or "widowed" follow this same principle. The Dao permeates all things, existing even in tiles and bricks—why despise anything?

Lin Dong further clarifies: What common people reject, rulers peacefully embrace, making them invulnerable to contention. This exemplifies the harmonious state achieved through Yin-Yang's dynamic emptiness.

Thus things may gain through apparent loss, or suffer through apparent gain. Imperial commentary illustrates: Falling leaves nourish roots (loss bringing gain), while the full moon inevitably wanes (gain bringing loss). Chen Jingyuan notes: Those who reduce desires and maintain humility, like rulers claiming lowly titles, paradoxically attain nobility—whereas wealth-seekers court disaster. Sima Guang (Sushui) concludes: "Fullness invites loss, humility receives benefit," teaching avoidance of extremes to return to balanced harmony. Wang Anshi (Linchuan) adds: Heaven's law naturally diminishes the full while augmenting the humble.

This passage expounds the principle of "humility": what appears as loss may actually bring benefit, while actions that seem profitable may ultimately cause harm. The teachings of worldly people I shall also instruct in accordance with the Dao—those who act with arrogance and force often meet untimely ends, and I shall take this truth as the foundation of my teaching.

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) explains: Using strength to overcome weakness and rigidity to suppress softness represents the teaching methods of ordinary people. My instruction differs—the arrogant are always self-righteous and fond of contention, which itself is the path to ruin. The wise who observe this phenomenon take it as warning, therefore I establish this principle as the foundation of instruction.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) supplements: When those in high positions act with arrogance and force, they lose popular support and approach downfall; when those in low positions behave thus, they face collective opposition and quick downfall. "Meeting untimely ends" means failing to complete one's natural lifespan. Observing how worldly ways contradict the great Dao, Laozi warns later generations: those who understand humility, yielding and softness will surely prosper, while the greedy, cruel and domineering will surely meet misfortune. Recording these truths as admonitions constitutes the foundation of teaching.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) states: This too is my teaching, which may serve as the root of all instruction. Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) points out: The world considers softness as loss and force as gain, unaware this is mistaken. Therefore let all teachers under heaven instruct thus: Have you not seen how the arrogant never die well? Force represents the extreme of reckless action. When people know the arrogant inevitably perish, they understand recklessness must be avoided. Only when recklessness is recognized as untenable can one discuss the Dao with them.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) says: People all consider themselves correct and teach accordingly. I too should instruct others, but only when conforming to the Dao's principles. Huang Maocai concludes: What seems loss brings gain, what seems gain brings loss—this truth of human nature and cosmic patterns remains constant through time. Though Confucians and Mohists established competing schools with differing doctrines, they agreed in teaching against arrogance. Laozi particularly emphasized warning against forcefulness, hence taking this as teaching's foundation. Yet his instruction extends beyond this to ineffable mysteries—just as fathers cannot fully transmit to sons nor sons completely inherit from fathers, how could such profound truths be easily taught?

Cheng Dachang explains that the saying "the violent will not die a natural death" was already an ancient adage in his time, with people following this principle. Thus Laozi quotes the ancients to validate his teaching, meaning: What others teach, I also explain through Daoist principles. This shows Laozi's teachings aren't original creations but inheritances of ancient wisdom. By quoting this saying, he elevates it as a fundamental tenet of moral instruction.

Lin Dong interprets: The teachings of others, I also elucidate through Dao (the Way). Therefore, if violent people can abandon their violence, they may avoid calamity - I establish this principle as the foundation of moral guidance. By upholding this teaching, I can regulate people's conduct.

Chapter 43 of the Daode Jing discusses how the softest things in the world penetrate the hardest, and formless forces enter where there are no gaps - demonstrating the benefits of wuwei (non-action).

Emperor Huizong of Song annotates: The soft conquers the hard, the formless contains the substantial - herein lies the profundity of Dao. Abandon worldly burdens and the body won't tire; transcend life and death and the shen (spirit) won't be depleted - these are the advantages of wuwei.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) states: Water exemplifies ultimate softness, while metal and stone represent ultimate hardness. "The world" here refers generally. "Galloping" describes a state of continuous flow.

Wang Bi explains: The formless cannot be exhausted, the supremely soft cannot be broken. From this we deduce wuwei benefits all things.

Sima Guang (Master Sushui) illustrates: Dripping water wears through stone; the finest dust cannot enter truly seamless objects - only the formless penetrates the gap-less.

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) analyzes: Hard against hard either breaks or shatters; soft against hard neither wears nor injures - water demonstrates this. The substantial entering the substantial causes mutual repulsion; the formless entering the substantial meets no resistance - as with spirits. Thus the sage practices wuwei, thereby mastering powerful forces and moving freely through substantial realms.

Liu Ji (Master Qingyuan) cites scripture: The eternal Dao never acts yet nothing remains undone. Wuwei represents the supremely soft state of perfect stillness; "nothing undone" manifests as the supremely hard power responding to all things. Even the hardest entities like spirits and heaven-earth cannot resist this force.

This scripture elucidates the profound principle of Wuwei (non-action). The Dao (the Way), as the cosmic origin and fundamental pattern, is formless and imageless, operating like empty space without deliberate action. The text states that when humans attain this state of empty non-action—without forcibly pursuing the Dao—the Dao naturally returns to them. This resembles how formless power can penetrate seamless objects: pouring into them never fills them to overflowing, drawing from them never exhausts them. The Dao is vast enough to contain all things yet unfathomably deep beyond measurement, thus revealing the benefits of Wuwei.

Huang Maocai explains that while water appears as the softest and weakest substance under heaven, nothing surpasses it in overcoming hardness—precisely because it avoids the flaw of contention. Ancient Daoist adepts who attained the Dao could enter water without getting wet and walk through fire without burning, having transcended the constraints of physical form. If humans apply this supreme softness to achieve formlessness, no hardness remains unconquerable, no place remains impenetrable. Both states can only be realized through the achievement of Wuwei.

Cheng Dachang further clarifies that the principle of "softness overcoming hardness" doesn't imply succeeding through direct confrontation. When facing forceful aggression, one shouldn't resist head-on but maintain a soft posture while awaiting opportunities. The Liezi uses water and the Zhuangzi uses wind as metaphors: though water and wind flow freely, they encounter obstacles when meeting mountains or boulders. Only by transcending material limitations and following natural transformations without obstruction can one reach a state truly superior to "maintaining softness while awaiting opportunities."

The text concludes that wordless teaching and the benefits of Wuwei are rarely attained in this world. Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary notes that sages implement wordless teaching through spiritual resonance, with Wuwei's benefit lying in its preservation of innate nature. When sages uphold primordial simplicity, the world naturally returns to them; governing through non-action, all things transform spontaneously. Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) adds that sages observe the Dao's natural patterns, cultivating themselves through frugality and dignified bearing to influence others—thus achieving teaching without words. Deliberate action obstructs things, whereas non-action brings boundless benefit. The pure and simple Dao truly represents the highest governance, hence the Daode Jing states: "Those who understand me are few, and thus I am valued."

Huang Maocai summarizes historical experience: since ancient times, those who accomplished great deeds...

This scripture examines the relationship between fame, wealth, and the true essence of life. Various Daoist scholars have interpreted the core message of Chapter 44 of the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) from different perspectives.

The text first observes that ordinary people often obsess over worldly achievements through deliberate action (youwei), while true adepts of the Dao (zhiren, perfected persons) cultivate the inner landscape of their hearts (fangcun, the "square inch" of the mind). When they attain the Great Dao, their spiritual state encompasses the sun and moon, the entire cosmos, transcending all spatial boundaries (baji, the eight extremes)—a realm unattainable through forced striving.

Regarding the question "Which is dearer—fame or life?":

• The Imperial Commentary notes that fame is not truly intimate
• Su Zhe argues that those who achieve true self-forgetfulness don't cling even to their bodies, let alone fame or possessions
• Cao Daochong criticizes those who sacrifice life for fame as profoundly foolish, pointing out we have only one body while worldly goods are infinite—to exhaust our limited vitality chasing endless wealth is self-destruction
• Chen Xianggu emphasizes the body as the foundation of Dao cultivation
• Huang Maicai observes how people often sacrifice their true selves for empty reputation, confusing what's truly close; how they enslave body and mind for boundless possessions, misunderstanding true abundance

Concerning "Which brings greater harm—gain or loss?":

• The Imperial Commentary states that martyrs gain empty fame and greedy men fleeting wealth, while losing priceless life
• Chen Jingyuan compares gaining fame and wealth to acquiring something light as a feather, while losing life is heavy as Mount Tai
• Sima Guang poses the rhetorical question: Which is worse—gaining reputation but losing oneself, or preserving body and spirit while forgetting fame?
• Su Zhe further analyzes how people suffer when lacking something, then suffer anew from attachment after obtaining it—only by transcending gain/loss can one escape this torment
• Cao Daochong notes how acquisition breeds anxiety while loss brings freedom from care
• Huang Maicai concludes that what people gain are but empty titles and floating wealth, while what they lose is precious life itself

(Note: "Zhiren" refers to Daoist adepts who've realized the Way; "fangcun" means the heart-mind; "baji" denotes the eight directional extremes of space; "xun" is interchangeable with "sacrifice for")

Cheng Dachang observed that fame brings no true intimacy to oneself, nor does wealth hold genuine importance—a truth universally acknowledged. Yet people frequently lose themselves chasing external things, neglecting their own safety, failing to properly weigh what truly matters. Laozi juxtaposes the body, fame, and wealth for comparison: Which brings greater suffering—gaining fame and wealth at the cost of one’s life, or preserving life by relinquishing them? When contemplated side by side, the distinction between what’s light and heavy becomes as clear as black and white.

Zhuangzi expands this idea: Even Marquis Han of the Warring States period wouldn’t sever his own hand to possess the world, and using the priceless Suihou Pearl to shoot down a sparrow would invite ridicule—such examples make the principle of discernment even more evident.

Thus, excessive craving inevitably leads to great depletion, and hoarding too much invites severe loss. Huang Maocai explains: The "depletion" here refers not to material expense but to immense spiritual damage; "loss" signifies not the draining of wealth but grave harm to one’s very life. These gains and losses are inherently obvious, yet people seldom reflect deeply.

Lin Dong adds: When love runs too deep, one pursues it recklessly—how could that not deplete? When accumulation grows excessive, it attracts countless rivals—how could that not bring loss?

To know contentment is to avoid disgrace. Cao Daochong (Daoist name Renjing Xiansheng) notes: No disgrace is greater than greed. Cheng Dachang remarks: The sufficiency born of contentment will never invite shame.

To know when to stop is to avoid danger—this is the way to endure. Chen Xianggu says: Achieve this, and lasting becomes inevitable. Huang Maocai cites the example of Shu Guang and Shu Shou ("the Two Shus") of the Han dynasty, who resigned from high office to return home in honor, living out their years in peace. While they certainly avoided danger and disgrace, calling this "enduring" isn’t entirely precise. Cheng Dachang concludes: Free from disgrace and danger, one naturally endures.