《道德真經集註(二)》Vol. 16

All under heaven say the concept of Dao (the Way) is too vast, appearing to resemble nothing at all. Precisely because of its boundless immensity, it seems unlike any concrete thing. If it truly resembled something specific, it would have long since become insignificant.

(The Imperial Commentary explains) What can be imitated by concrete things are all small matters, while Dao embraces and carries all things, vast and limitless—this is true greatness. If it resembled any particular thing, that would imply something exists beyond Dao—how could this be considered great?

(Master Bi Xu, Chen Jingyuan, explains) "Resemblance" means similarity. People say Dao is formless and boundless, luminous yet not glaring, virtuous yet appearing simple, with no concrete form for comparison—like something unworthy. Dao's formless vastness isn't understood by ordinary people, so it seems unworthy. If it could truly be praised and celebrated by people, it would no longer be as it is now. If praised by the world, how could such Dao be called great? "Insignificant" means small. Laozi once told Shi Chengqi: "Those called wise and divine—I consider myself beyond such things." This shows Laozi long ceased valuing worthiness or reputation.

(Sima Guang of Sushui observes) This speaks of how Dao differs from common understanding.

(Su Zhe of Yingbin says) Dao is empty and formless, chaotic and nameless, filling all things yet resembling none—this is precisely its greatness. If it resembled something concrete, it would merely be that thing—how could it be called great?

(Wang Anshi of Linchuan states) Dao's greatness cannot be defined by names, so it seems to resemble nothing; small things can be named, so they resemble concrete things. Hence the saying: "If it resembled something, it would have long since become insignificant."

(Master Da Zhen explains) Whatever can mutually imitate has form and substance—what has form will inevitably be surpassed by greater forms, unable to become invincibly vast. Only Dao is formless and substance-less—called great because nothing surpasses it. If it resembled something, it would be surpassed by something greater, ultimately reduced to insignificance.

(Huang Maocai concludes) Under heaven, only Dao is truly great—what could possibly resemble it?

This passage discusses the characteristics of the Dao (the Way) and the three treasured qualities of sages. The Dao spoken of by Laozi is not a concrete object—precisely because it resembles nothing particular, it can become the "Great Dao" that embraces all things.

Sages uphold three treasured qualities: first is compassion, second is frugality, and third is "daring not to be at the forefront." These contain profound principles: true courage springs from compassion (just as a mother protecting her child exhibits astonishing bravery); frugality paradoxically enables broad generosity (because restrained use allows continuous giving); and refusing to compete for leadership ultimately makes one revered (like the I Ching's auspicious sign of "dragons without a head").

Commentators offer various interpretations:

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) observes that when sages act with compassion, such courage enables people to rush through fire and water to save others; the frugal person can provide widespread relief, just as economizing allows better care for others; those who don't contend for prominence ultimately become masters of all things.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) emphasizes that the Dao's greatness lies precisely in resembling no particular thing. While worldly people admire fierceness, extravagance, and competition, sages treasure compassion, frugality, and yielding—qualities the world disdains. Yet fierceness breaks easily, while compassion remains invincible; extravagance exhausts quickly, while frugality endures; contention breeds resentment, while yielding wins respect.

Wang Anshi (Linchuan) adds that compassion can dissolve even the hardest substances, proving its true courage; those who know contentment find constant joy, making frugality the path to generous giving. These qualities that seem contrary to worldly values are precisely how sages transcend ordinary people. The fierceness, extravagance, and competitiveness pursued by the world instead often invite misfortune.

This passage explores the profound meaning behind Laozi's "Three Treasures" (compassion, frugality, and "daring not be at the world's forefront").

First, it explains the principle of "daring not be at the world's forefront": by not striving to be a leader among people, one allows all things to grow naturally, ultimately achieving great accomplishment. Boldness, expansion, and competition—these three behaviors are precisely what most easily invite disaster, often leading to ruin.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) interprets: The supreme Dao possesses three treasures. Compassion is the treasure for engaging with worldly affairs; frugality is the treasure for self-cultivation; and non-competition is the treasure for resolving conflict and embodying the Dao. Compassion enables one to act courageously for the world's benefit, frugality brings contentment, and non-competition ensures no one in the world can contend with you—thus great accomplishment is achieved. But if one abandons compassion for mere boldness, discards frugality for expansion, and rejects yielding in favor of competition, these three behaviors are universally detested, and the strong will inevitably meet destruction.

On the power of compassion: With compassion, one prevails in battle and stands firm in defense. When Heaven wishes to save someone, it protects them through compassion. Emperor Huizong of Song (in his imperial commentary) adds: The benevolent have no enemies under Heaven. When the people love their ruler as hands and feet protect the head, or as children defend their parents, they willingly face death without retreat.

Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name Bixuzi) emphasizes that among the three treasures, compassion is the most precious. Leading an army with compassion draws even the enemy's people to seek refuge. Troops that spare crops, respect graves, refrain from plunder, and do not burn homes—who treat prisoners with kindness—will be met with joy like a filial son seeing his mother or starving people finding food. Those who submit will come as swiftly as arrows shot into a deep valley. Why then rely on bloody battles or heavy garrisons? The Dao of Heaven always blesses the virtuous, for a compassionate commander protects both soldiers and civilians.

Su Zhe (styled Yingbin) concludes: Treat all things with compassion, and they will love you as parents, willing to die for you—hence victory in battle and steadfastness in defense. This embodies the profound truth that "the great Dao appears ordinary."

When Heaven wishes to save a person, it opens their heart-mind, making them universally compassionate. When one holds compassion for all beings, all beings will in turn protect them.

Master Dazhen explains: With a compassionate heart, people naturally gather around you. Thus, with compassion as your weapon, you will be victorious in battle; with united hearts, your defenses will be unshakable. When Heaven intends to save the world, it invariably appoints compassionate individuals as its guardians.

Ye Mengde observes: While self-cultivation may be easy, attaining the state of universal beneficence is profoundly difficult. Therefore, Laozi particularly emphasizes compassion as the foremost of the Three Treasures, ultimately illustrating its practical significance through "victory in battle and unshakable defense." When Heaven wishes to save the people, it will surely cause compassionate individuals to emerge as their protectors—this reflects Laozi's profound hope for all living beings under heaven.

Liu Ji of Qingyuan notes: Among Daoism's Three Treasures (compassion, frugality, and not presuming to lead the world), compassion is most precious. Treat others with compassion, and they will respond with love, even willing to die for you—thus becoming invincible under heaven. Hence with compassion you conquer in battle and fortify in defense. When Heaven wishes to save someone, it makes them universally compassionate, ensuring all beings become their protectors.

Huang Maocai remarks: Those with compassionate hearts harbor no intention to harm creatures, and in turn, no creature harms them. Is this limited merely to victory and defense? When nothing in creation harms you, you attain longevity. Thus we say Heaven employs compassion to safeguard those it wishes to save.

Cheng Dachang cites Zengzi: Be vigilant! As you treat others, so shall they treat you. When I show compassion, others become courageous for me—hence victory in battle and unshakable defense. Even if lacking in some aspects, Heaven will specially protect one for this compassion. Consider how the Zhou ancestors flourished after moving from Bin to Qi—this was Heaven's salvation through compassion.

Chapter 68 of the Daodejing states: The skilled commander doesn't rely on martial prowess, the skilled warrior isn't easily provoked, the skilled victor avoids contention, and the skilled leader maintains humility.

Su Zhe (the Yingbin Scholar) explains: While martial courage is fundamental to generalship, it must be tempered with caution. Reckless aggression invites defeat. The sage wages war only when unavoidable—to fight from anger is to kill for selfish desire, which Heaven will surely punish. By not contending with others, I surpass those who do; when all contend, none truly prevail. People's competitive hearts make cooperation difficult.

One who can remain humble and take the lower position will find all under heaven willing to serve them.

Cao Daochong (a Daoist practitioner with the religious name "Daozhen Renjing") explains: The truly courageous do not flaunt their might, and those with dignity do not easily display anger. Those who do not contend with others will ultimately prevail, while those who recklessly seek achievement are bound to fail. Maintaining a humble attitude naturally inspires others to offer their assistance; the arrogant and contemptuous will find no one willing to work for them.

Cheng Dachang analyzes: When Laozi discusses military strategy, he consistently opposes aggressive displays of force on the battlefield, instead emphasizing thorough preparation before engagement—this reflects his profound respect for the value of human life.

This is what is meant by the "virtue of non-contention" (De of Wuwei), skillfully employing the strength of others in accordance with the highest principle of the ancient Dao of Heaven. Sima Guang (known as the Master of Sushui) adds: This virtue resonates with the Dao of Heaven and represents the supreme standard since the dawn of humanity.

Huang Maocai points out: Laozi's discussions of military strategy are always purposeful, hence their alignment with the ultimate ancient Dao. Yet who but one truly versed in military arts could speak with such penetrating insight? Upon careful study of this chapter's essence, even military masters like Jiang Ziya, Sima Rangju, and Sun Wu offer no deeper understanding.

Chapter 69 of the Daode Jing on military strategy states: "The skilled commander says: 'I dare not take the offensive but prefer to defend; I dare not advance an inch but would rather retreat a foot.' This is called marching without formation, raising arms without baring blades, facing the enemy without hostility, and bearing weapons without employing them."

Emperor Huizong of Song explains in his Imperial Commentary: The instigator is the host, the responder is the guest. The sage's army is only mobilized when absolutely necessary; because they abhor killing, they prefer cautious retreat to reckless advance.

Chen Jingyuan (known as Master Bixu) elaborates: Laozi lamented how his contemporaries mistook belligerence for military fundamentals. The true Dao of warfare prioritizes preemptive action as host and responsive action as guest. Yet the sage's army is employed only in direst necessity, always responding rather than initiating. This "less advance, more retreat" approach actually embodies profound strategy and respect for the opponent. The true art of war lies in preventing conflict, valuing non-contention. Even when deploying troops, they harbor no intent to kill; soldiers uphold righteousness in defense, thus appearing to march without true formation. Even when mustering courage, it's as if they have no arms to wield—such is their abhorrence of slaughter and reverence for compassion. When a ruler embodying the Dao encounters violent invaders, they employ moral transformation to dissuade them, demonstrating the power of righteous forces. Hearing the principles of Dao, enemies naturally withdraw, leaving none who dare oppose them.

This scripture discusses the principles of warfare and attitudes toward life. Laozi asserts that truly strong individuals never rashly initiate conflict ("though possessing the power to summon armies, they have no enemy to summon"), and even when armed, they refrain from using force ("though holding weapons, they find no occasion to wield them"). Sima Guang (Sushui) explains that those who provoke war are the "host" (aggressor), while those compelled to respond are the "guest" (defender). Su Zhe (Yingbin) further elaborates that those who actively seek victory inevitably become entangled in strife, while those without such intentions may employ force yet remain as though they had not.

Dazhenzi observes that resorting to arms is an act of last resort ("one cannot avoid acting in self-preservation, nor can one entirely abandon one's nature"). True Daoist practitioners, even when engaging in warfare, exercise restraint—they dare not take the offensive ("dare not act as the host but remain the guest") and prefer yielding to asserting dominance ("dare not advance an inch but retreat a foot"). The greatest calamity lies in underestimating the enemy ("no disaster greater than underestimating the adversary"), for those who do so forfeit the fundamental virtue of compassion ("losing my treasure"). When opposing forces meet, it is the side imbued with pity that prevails ("when matched armies clash, the compassionate emerge victorious").

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) annotates: those who delight in war take pleasure in killing, and those who abandon benevolence can never win the hearts of the people. The sage employs arms solely to rescue the people from suffering ("saving them from fire and water"), wielding divine martial virtue to avoid bloodshed ("divine martialism without slaughter"). Only by treasuring compassion ("holding compassion as their treasure") can they unite the world under their guidance.

Chen Jingyuan (Bixuzi) cites the Book of Documents to illustrate: tyrannical rule breeds countless enemies, from nations to individuals ("a state may become my foe... even one's own body may turn against oneself"). Conversely, a ruler who treats minor officials with kindness gains the allegiance of myriad states; the powerful who show concern for the weak win the support of the people; and the virtuous who cultivate themselves receive the protection of the divine. This embodies the Daoist wisdom of "prevailing without contention."

This passage discusses the principles of warfare and governance. Laozi considers "compassion" to be the most precious treasure. When two states engage in battle, they should maintain a merciful heart. If the ruler governs with compassion and ministers fulfill their duties faithfully, victory becomes inevitable.

Su Zhe (Master Yingbin) explains that sages regard compassion as their treasure. Underestimating the enemy leads to reckless warfare, and reckless warfare results in indiscriminate killing—thus losing the essence of compassion. When conflict becomes unavoidable, approaching it with a heart of pity and sorrow will even move Heaven to offer assistance, making victory certain.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) believes that underestimating the enemy is the root of defeat. The key to military strategy lies in preserving life and protecting the state—this is what is truly precious. To care for soldiers means to empathize with their plight on the battlefield, never treating war and killing as a source of pleasure or personal glory. Only then can victory be assured.

Huang Maocun points out that after the decline of the Zhou dynasty, the Dao (the Way) became obscured. People indulged in sensual desires and lost their innate nature. Laozi repeatedly emphasizes that "those who underestimate the enemy nearly lose my treasure," expressing his grief over the tragic consequences of war.

Chapter 70 illustrates the simplicity of the Dao. Laozi states: My words are easy to understand and easy to practice, yet the world struggles to comprehend and follow them. As Mencius said, the Dao is as clear as a broad road—not difficult to grasp. The reason people find it challenging is that they fail to reflect inwardly.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) cites scripture to explain: Maintaining desirelessness allows one to perceive the profundity of the Dao; taking less ultimately yields more; non-action (Wuwei) accomplishes all affairs; without stepping outside, one knows the world; without looking through the window, one understands the heavenly Dao; without speaking, one teaches others. These are all manifestations of the great Dao.

These commentaries elucidate the principle of "governing through non-action (Wuwei)" from the Dao De Jing. Su Zhe observes that the great Dao manifests in daily life—the truths revealed by sages are inherently simple to understand and easy to practice, yet people often remain unaware of the Dao surrounding them, let alone embody it.

Wang Pang notes that worldly complexities arise when people abandon the root for the branches, indulging in forced actions that create internal and external conflicts, leaving even the wise struggling to resolve them. Cao Daochong emphasizes that the great Dao is supremely simple and effortless, inherently tranquil and free, yet its very simplicity lies beyond ordinary thinking; seemingly close at hand, it cannot be attained through striving.

Liu Ji attributes people's inability to "know or practice" the Dao to unclear understanding of goodness and wavering resolve. By forcing action, they corrupt the Dao and confuse their innate nature with artificial methods.

Regarding the interpretation of "speech has its source, affairs have their ruler": Emperor Huizong of Song's commentary states that while words may be numerous, they are rooted in principle; though matters may be complex, they are governed by the Dao. Chen Jingyuan explains that diverse schools of thought ultimately converge on principle—those who grasp the truth transcend words. All endeavors, though varied, point toward accomplishment, and upon achieving it, one can relinquish attachment. Su Zhe further clarifies that speech and action are but tools and traces of the Dao, yet the Dao itself must be apprehended beyond these to grasp its essence.

Liu Gai concludes that the world fails to comprehend this simple Dao he speaks of, instead complicating what is inherently straightforward. Together, these commentaries reveal the core Daoist teaching of "the great Dao's supreme simplicity" and humanity's universal tendency to lose sight of their true nature through attachment to forced action.

This passage discusses how cultivation of the Dao requires grasping fundamental principles, yet ordinary people often fail to comprehend them.

Master Dazhen observes that people in the world prefer complicated things but don't understand returning to simplicity; they deviate from the root yet cannot find the essential point. Hence the saying "none can know it, none can practice it." When it mentions "speech has its ancestor," this refers to having a central theme in discourse—this is simplicity. When it says "affairs have their ruler," this means having guiding principles in action—this is the essential point.

Chen Xianggu explains that both "ancestor" and "ruler" are merely provisional names—what truly matters is understanding their essential meaning. Liu Ji (Master Qingyuan) notes that the various schools of thought produce excessive and confusing theories; one should set aside these theories to seek their true meaning. Once the true meaning is grasped, one can forget the words. Forgetting words is the root of matters. The world's affairs are numerous and complex; one should set them aside to investigate their underlying principle. When the principle is understood, affairs cease to be burdens. Being unburdened is what governs affairs.

Cheng Dachang clarifies: "Ancestor" refers to what unites a family, "ruler" is what unites subjects, while "Dao" is what unites all things in the world.

Later scholars continue discussing the issue of "knowing." The Imperial Commentary states that ordinary people's wisdom cannot transcend books—though they may appear knowledgeable, they don't truly understand the great Dao. Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) explains that "not knowing me" means not understanding that my Dao is vast and therefore seems unlike anything familiar. Sima Guang asserts that only those with genuine wisdom can comprehend the Dao. Su Zhe remarks that ancient sages maintained a state of no-thought and natural simplicity—a realm unattainable through ordinary thinking, which is why ultimately no one could truly know them. Huang Maocai uses metaphors like the frog at the bottom of a well or summer insects to illustrate how those with limited perspectives cannot grasp the great Dao.

Finally, the Imperial Commentary concludes: Those whose behavior transcends worldly conventions are often criticized by the multitude; those with extraordinary wisdom are frequently mocked by common people. That few understand me is precisely what makes me valuable.

This scripture passage, through annotations by multiple Daoist scholars, explores the dialectical relationship between "knowing" and "not knowing."

Sima Guang (Sushui) contends that the true Dao is rarely understood by people. Su Zhe (Yingbin) adds that if even ordinary people could easily comprehend it, the Dao wouldn't be worth treasuring. Wang Anshi (Linchuan) classifies people into three categories: those of average aptitude hear the Dao but remain half-convinced and half-doubting, while those of inferior aptitude laugh at it upon hearing it. Precisely because some mock it, those who understand the Dao appear precious; precisely because some doubt it, those who truly comprehend it become rare.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) further elaborates: The fewer people understand me, the more it demonstrates that my Dao differs from worldly ways—this is what makes it valuable. If everyone could understand it, it wouldn't be considered precious. Therefore, the sage wears coarse cloth (he) outwardly but holds fine jade within (symbolizing sublime virtue).

Multiple scholars use the metaphor of "wearing coarse cloth while embracing jade" to illustrate: The sage appears no different from ordinary people outwardly (harmonizing with the world's light and blending with its dust), yet remains extraordinary within (embracing the Dao and containing wonders). Cheng Dachang explains that coarse clothing represents daily necessities while jade signifies rare treasures. Though sages know their Dao surpasses worldly understanding, they don't deliberately display their uniqueness. Instead, they integrate profound principles into everyday life, hoping all may eventually comprehend them.

Chapter 71 specifically discusses the realm of "knowing": To know that there are things one doesn't know—this is supreme wisdom; to not know yet presume to know—this is a flaw. Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) analyzes that the sage's mind-nature remains pure; though comprehending all things, they never show off—this constitutes superior virtue. Ordinary people, however, possess turbid innate natures and tend to pretend knowledge where none exists—this actually reflects defective virtue. Sima Guang concludes: Appearing as if unaware can prevent resentment, while feigning knowledge invites misfortune.

(Note: "Harmonizing with the world's light and blending with its dust" refers to coexisting harmoniously with secular society without losing one's true nature; "wearing coarse cloth while embracing jade" metaphorically describes outward simplicity concealing inner treasures.)

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Renjing) explains: Those who truly understand humility say they "do not know"—this is when actual cultivation surpasses reputation, representing the highest state. Those who pretend to know while being ignorant say they "know"—this is when empty fame exceeds reality, constituting a flaw.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) elaborates: Only by not deliberately pondering or forcibly speculating can one truly comprehend the Dao; only by not clinging to specific cultivation methods can one abide in the Dao; only by not deliberately pursuing the Dao can one attain it. Thus, those who attain the Dao appear to do nothing yet accomplish everything; they seem to lack knowledge yet understand all. By penetrating the fundamental principle, all things become naturally clear. This true knowing arises from a state of "not knowing," making the attitude of "not knowing" most precious. Ordinary people constantly seek to know and understand more, unaware that such attachment depletes their Shen (spirit) and disturbs their mind, using superficial knowledge to obscure essence and broad learning to drown the original heart—this is the true "disease of knowing."

Huang Maocai points out: Those who deeply realize the great Dao become one with it—why would they need to flaunt "knowing"? This is the highest realm of knowing. Those in the world who don't understand the Dao yet claim to know it suffer from a "disease of knowing" worse than ignorance. Only by recognizing the disease as a disease can one avoid truly falling ill. Sages are free from the "disease of knowing" precisely because they remain vigilant against it.

Emperor Huizong of Song (imperial commentary) adds: Those aware of their foolishness are not truly foolish; those who perceive their confusion are not truly confused. The truly confused remain unaware throughout life; the truly foolish never awaken.

Sima Guang (styled Sushui) analogizes: A patient who knows their illness won't suffer severely.

Cao Daochong further clarifies: Those who regard flaws as flaws ultimately won't truly fall ill. Why are sages flawless? Because they treat the "disease of knowing" as an illness, constantly reflecting, thus remaining unafflicted.

Liu Ji concludes: The reason sages have no "disease of knowing" is precisely because they treat it as a flaw to overcome.

Chapter 72 discusses "when the people fear no authority, greater威慑 will come":

Emperor Huizong explains: Petty people think minor evils are harmless and don't correct them—when misdeeds accumulate beyond concealment, calamity follows, like the I Ching's ominous sign of "carrying punishment tools to cover one's ears."

Chen Jingyuan (Daoist name Bixuzi) states: "Great威慑" refers to omens of death. The noble person has three reverences: reverence for heavenly mandate, for sages, and for the words of sages. In establishing oneself, one should take caution and reverence as fundamental. If one considers minor evils harmless and remains unvigilant, when accumulation reaches its limit, great misfortune becomes inescapable.

Yan Junping (a Han Dynasty Daoist scholar) said: When great calamity befalls and only then one thinks of doing good, by that time, neither Dao-De nor Heaven-Earth can save you—this is not Heaven's fault.

Su Zhe (styled Yingbin) explained: Human nature inherently possesses majesty, as bright and vast as the sun, surpassing all things—this is called "Great Majesty" (Dawei). People often drown in delusions, fearing life and death, worrying over gain and loss, harassed by the imposing forces of myriad things, spending their days in restless dread. Though their nature contains Great Majesty, they remain unaware of it. If one truly understands that life and death are one, gain and loss are equal, facing all without fear, then the Great Majesty of their nature will manifest clearly.

Liu Gai quoted the Book of Songs: "Revere the majesty of Heaven, and you may preserve yourself." Ordinary people do not know to revere Heaven's majesty, hence great calamities befall them.

Liu Ji (styled Qingyuanzi) noted: Mundane people do not comprehend the Mandate of Heaven (Tianming) nor fear Heaven's majesty, thinking minor misdeeds harmless and remaining unvigilant. But when misdeeds accumulate to a certain degree, they invite self-destruction. By the time calamity strikes, there is no escape between Heaven and Earth. Here, "Great Majesty" refers to the omen of death.

Huang Maocai said: People take reckless actions without regard for death—what majesty would they fear? Without fearing majesty, great calamity arrives. What is Great Majesty? If not human disaster, then natural catastrophe.

Do not confine the dwelling of your spirit (Shen). Do not despise the root of your life. Only by not despising life's root will one avoid exhaustion.

Emperor Huizong of Song explained in his Imperial Commentary: "Dwelling" refers to the abode of one's nature. Human nature is vast and boundless, but shallow people fail to comprehend the Dao because they confine their spirit's dwelling. If one expands the mind, it can fill Heaven and Earth, embracing all things. This is what Mencius meant by "dwelling in the broadest abode under Heaven." "Life" refers to the gathering of primordial Qi (Yuanqi). Human life connects with the Creator—those who despise life do so because daytime actions fetter their nature. Repeated fetters exhaust the vitality of night. Only those who preserve the Great Harmony (Taihe) of Heaven and Earth, avoiding premature demise, do not despise their life's root.

Chen Jingyuan (styled Bixuzi), examining ancient texts, suggested that "narrow" (xia) should read as "habituated" (xia), meaning accustomed. "Dwelling" refers to one's living environment; "despise" means to loathe; "root of life" refers to the Dao. The meaning is: the prudent choose dwellings near good neighbors, avoid bad company, and maintain purity and stillness.

This scripture primarily expounds the principles of self-cultivation. Its core message states: one should maintain cautious reverence, preserving the original mind and innate nature, so that calamities cannot intrude. If one indulges desires, despises the right path, or disregards virtue (De), misfortune will swiftly arrive.

Su Zhe (styled Yingbin) explains: Human nature is vast and boundless, capable of encompassing heaven and earth. Yet those who don’t understand this truth regard only their limbs and body as themselves, clinging to these external things, and thus their vision remains shallow. Therefore, they are taught to "not confine their heart-mind." Those who grasp this truth recognize that innate nature is vast while life is fleeting, and thus feel concern. But if this leads to either aversion or attachment, they remain trapped by external things. Hence, they are instructed to "not despise their own life." Only sages can neither confine nor despise, living alongside the multitude while abiding with the Dao (the Way), making no distinctions between vastness and narrowness, purity and defilement, understanding that life itself holds nothing to despise.

Liu Gai observes: "Not confining the heart-mind" is the foundation of virtue (De), while "not despising life" is its source. The former allows one to fully realize innate nature, while the latter enables one to fulfill heavenly mandate.

Liu Ji (styled Qingyuanzi) elaborates further: "Not confining the heart-mind" and "not despising life" are expressions of revering heaven’s majesty. The heart-mind is where innate nature resides—it should be expanded to resonate with all things and unite with emptiness. Life is the coalescence of essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi)—it should be cherished to harmonize with heaven, earth, sun, and moon. The obstinate fail to grasp this truth, either confining themselves or despising life. The petty and clever are selfish and deluded, clinging to illusions; world-weary people flee reality, sinking into emptiness. The great Dao (the Way) does not abandon humanity—it is people who turn away from it. So long as one does not reject the Dao (the Way), the Dao (the Way) will never reject them.

Huang Maocai remarks: "Not despising life" urges people to cherish their existence. Those who can treasure life will preserve it long—what could there be to despise?

Cheng Dachang notes: The teaching of "not despising" must be repeatedly emphasized, for it is the crux of cultivation.

This passage elucidates the wisdom of sages in navigating worldly affairs. Laozi teaches that truly enlightened individuals (sages) possess self-awareness without self-display, and practice self-respect without self-exaltation, thereby relinquishing vanity to preserve their authentic nature.

Several Daoist scholars have provided profound commentaries:

The Imperial Commentary explains that sages understand their capabilities yet refrain from deliberate demonstration; they cherish themselves without condescending to others. Such individuals harmonize with all beings, neither harming external things nor being harmed by them. Aligning with the Dao of heaven, they remain free from worry, having no need for imposing authority to intimidate others.

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) maintains that abandoning self-display and the arrogance of superiority while preserving self-awareness and self-respect constitutes adherence to the principle of revering the Dao and honoring heaven. This naturally dispels external threats of punishment while nourishing internal vital energy (Qi).

Su Zhe (Yingbin) observes that although sages recognize their own worth, they refrain from ostentatious display; though they value themselves, they avoid self-promotion—precisely to prevent arousing resentment or envy in others. The very existence of such concerns reveals lingering fears. Only when these fears dissolve does genuine authority manifest spontaneously.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) interprets that sages comprehend the cyclical patterns of prosperity and decline, completely following the Dao's principle of naturalness (Ziran). They neither force displays of talent nor pursue worldly prominence, focusing instead on inner cultivation rather than external validation. The "that" refers to superficial reputation, while "this" denotes the true inner self.

Master Dazhen supplements that people often feel constrained and dissatisfied precisely because they overvalue self-presentation and self-aggrandizement. True wisdom lies in maintaining self-knowledge without ostentation and self-care without arrogance, thereby naturally achieving broad-mindedness and life's smooth unfolding.

Huang Maocun employs metaphor: cognition resides within, while expression manifests outwardly; self-care is personal experience, while nobility belongs to others' judgment. Therefore, one must discard forced displays and status-seeking, preserving instead the original heart of self-awareness and self-respect.

The Sixteenth Volume of the Collected Commentaries on the Dao De Jing presents ancient Daoist scholars' annotations and interpretations of Laozi's Classic of the Way and Virtue. This scripture compiles insights from multiple Daoist masters to help later generations better comprehend the profound philosophical concepts within the Dao De Jing.

Maintaining the style of preceding volumes, this section elucidates through chapter-by-chapter analysis the formless and featureless nature of "Dao" (the Way) as the source of all creation, and how "De" (Virtue/Power) as the manifestation of Dao operates in human affairs. Commentators frequently employ natural phenomena as metaphors, such as using water's softness overcoming hardness to illustrate the life wisdom that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong."

Regarding cultivation practices, this portion likely discusses essential techniques like "guarding the One" (focusing on maintaining the pure unified Qi within) and "emptying the mind while filling the belly" (keeping the mind serene while internal Qi remains abundant). These methods emphasize attaining unity with Dao through inner refinement. In governance, it continues advocating the principle of "governing through Wuwei (non-action)," suggesting rulers should emulate Dao's natural spontaneity by minimizing artificial interference.