《道德真經集註(二)》Vol. 8

This scripture discusses how to use the Dao (the Way) to assist rulers in governing a nation. Its core tenet is that those who truly understand the Dao never rely on military force to dominate the world, as warfare inevitably brings destructive consequences.

Commentators elaborate this principle from various perspectives. Su Zhe observes that historical rulers like King Ling of Chu, King Min of Qi, Qin Shi Huang, and Emperor Wu of Han, despite achieving temporary victories through force, ultimately faced retribution—either meeting violent deaths or bringing calamity upon their descendants. Wang Anshi adds that such retribution manifests in two forms: direct human retaliation (ren bao zhi), where killing others' fathers and brothers invites reciprocal violence; and cosmic punishment (tian bao zhi), exemplified by farmland turning barren where armies camp or famine following great wars.

Liu Gai cites Confucius to illustrate that true Dao practitioners (like Confucius himself) would claim expertise only in rites and music, never in military affairs. Ye Mengde argues that even when ancient master strategists caused destruction, people still followed them because they recognized these leaders weren't the root cause of chaos. Huang Maocai and Cheng Dachang both emphasize that military victories ultimately backfire—and failure remains an ever-present risk.

The famous passage "Where armies camp, thorns grow; after great wars, calamitous years follow" receives layered explanation: military occupation disrupts livelihoods (causing farmland to become wilderness), while large-scale battles disturb the harmony between heaven and earth (triggering natural disasters). These demonstrate warfare's far-reaching damages.

The overarching message stresses governing through the Dao's principles while rejecting military aggression, as violence inevitably invites dual retribution—both human vengeance and cosmic recompense.

This passage compiles annotations from multiple ancient scholars on the Daode Jing's philosophy of military affairs, with the core argument being: while force is a perilous instrument, it cannot be entirely abolished in state governance—the key lies in its "skillful application."

Emperor Huizong of Song (Imperial Commentary) observes that suppressing others through force constitutes a hazardous virtue (De). Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) adds that although warfare harms both people and spirits (Shen), enlightened rulers throughout history have never completely abandoned military force, as it possesses deep historical roots.

Gengsangzi employs three analogies to illustrate why one shouldn't discard essential tools due to isolated mishaps: banning all medicine because someone died from an overdose, prohibiting all boats because someone drowned, or abolishing all military force because a state perished through warfare—all are equally absurd. Military force resembles water and fire: skillfully applied, it benefits; recklessly used, it brings disaster. Families need discipline, states require laws, and the world demands punitive expeditions. Ancient sage-kings advocated "righteous warfare" rather than total abolition of force.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) argues that only when virtue (De) fails to transform and governance fails to persuade should one resort to force as a last resort. Wang Anshi (Linchuan) notes that military action aims solely at victory, and "skillful application" means ceasing once the objective is achieved. Cheng Dachang emphasizes the distinction between "decisiveness" (果) and "brute strength" (强): the latter relies on raw power, while the former follows heavenly principle (天理). When aligned with principle, act decisively; when unaligned, refrain from action regardless of military might.

The passage concludes with five principles for military conduct: refrain from boasting after success (勿矜), avoid flaunting achievements (勿伐), shun arrogance (勿骄), always regard force as a last resort, and never bully the weak. Su Zhe particularly clarifies that the first four principles serve to achieve "non-coercion" (不强)—the truly skilled warrior maintains restraint even when circumstances are advantageous.

Cheng Dachang explains: "Jin" (self-righteousness) means flaunting one's abilities, "fa" (self-promotion) refers to boasting about one's achievements, and "jiao" (arrogance) denotes looking down upon adversaries. These three mental states all stem from past victories in battle, hence Laozi warns that even when truly victorious, one should never harbor these attitudes of jin, fa, or jiao. Military strategists often say "the enemy is unpredictable," but insightful individuals counter that "a ruler who follows the Dao can sustain victory"—precisely because they fear habitual triumph breeding complacency, transforming originally unavoidable warfare into bullying aggression. Thus Laozi issues this preemptive admonition.

All things that reach their zenith must decline—this violates the natural rhythm of the Dao. Whatever contradicts the Dao will perish prematurely.

Master Bixu (Chen Jingyuan) uses vegetation as metaphor: tender and fragile at birth, plants wither when fully grown; humans too are delicate in youth but age after reaching their prime. Warfare follows this pattern—excessive displays of military might may bring temporary dominance, but swift collapse follows. Failure can never align with the Dao. What contradicts the Dao must not be emulated but abandoned early. Thus, armies of justice become kings, defensive forces prevail, wrathful troops die in battle, and arrogant armies meet certain ruin. Truly skilled commanders, though resolute, never boast, rage, covet, or grow proud. They fight only when compelled, aiming to eliminate threats and save lives—never to glorify violence or relish war.

From a self-cultivation perspective: human decline stems from straying from the Dao. Those who abandon the Dao inevitably perish early.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) observes: All things must decay after peaking—this is universal. Only Dao-realized individuals, whose achievements seem incomplete and whose fullness appears empty, never reach extremity and thus avoid decline. To dominate the world through force is already excessive—how could it not end in collapse?

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) clarifies: The Dao values ceaseless vitality, while warfare brings destruction—this violates the Dao. Knowing that war cannot preserve life, one must cease it promptly.

Huang Maocai concludes: Military supremacy guarantees defeat; zeniths guarantee decline—both defy the Dao and thus cannot endure.

Cheng Dachang illustrates: Had Emperor Wu of Han heeded his own "Luntai Edict of Remorse" before constructing the Shuofang frontier, the accumulated wealth of Emperors Wen and Jing would not have been squandered.

(Chapter 31) Fine weapons are instruments of misfortune—even objects detest them. Thus, those who follow the Dao never use them.

This passage discusses the philosophical principles of military strategy. Ancient wisdom regarded weapons as ominous objects, and truly virtuous individuals would not resort to force lightly. The text mentions that noble rulers traditionally honored the left (representing Yang and generative energy) in peacetime, but shifted reverence to the right (representing Yin and destructive force) during warfare, because weapons were not tools gentlemen employed regularly. Their use was reserved for unavoidable circumstances, and even then required detachment of mind.

Commentators emphasize various perspectives: Su Zhe maintained weapons should only rescue from peril, not become routine instruments; Da Zhenzi observed that even birds and beasts flee from finely crafted weapons due to their terrifying lethality—how much more should Dao-adherents avoid them; Wang Anshi stated all warfare arises from compulsion, making even victory unworthy of celebration; both Cao Daochong and Huang Maocai noted that in peaceful eras when people thrive, weapons are universally recognized as inauspicious objects.

A crucial distinction emerges: those who delight in wielding military force essentially rejoice in killing, and such individuals can never win universal support. Truly benevolent rulers take no pleasure in war, recognizing how its inherent dangers and calamities ultimately rebound upon the warmonger. The passage concludes with ritual protocol: junior generals (偏将军) position themselves on the left while senior commanders (上将军) stand on the right—an arrangement embodying the classical military principle of "orderly distinction between creation and destruction."

This passage discusses the relationship between military strategy and funeral rites, as well as the nature of Dao (the Way).

Regarding the connection between warfare and funeral customs: Ancient thinkers considered military action a last resort, fundamentally akin to mourning rituals because war inevitably brings casualties. Thus, commanders should approach battle with grief and solemnity. According to traditional ceremonial protocols, the left side represents yang and life, while the right symbolizes yin and death. Normally the left is honored (auspicious), but during funerals the right takes precedence (inauspicious). The supreme commander (shang jiangjun), who oversees killing, stands on the right; the lieutenant general (pian jiangjun), not primarily responsible for slaughter, stands on the left. Confucius once cited "mourning for my elder sister" to explain why he positioned himself on the right.

Several Daoist scholars emphasize that while military action may sometimes be unavoidable, it must be undertaken with compassion. Ye Mengde quotes Confucius saying "why must killing be employed in governance?"—even when facing adversaries who lack virtue, one shouldn't rashly resort to arms. Huang Maocai observes that while armies exist to defend against bandits and hostile states, the calamity caused by wanton military force exceeds that of mere thieves.

Concerning the essence of Dao: Dao constitutes the origin of heaven, earth and all things, beyond definition through concrete names. The metaphor of "pu" (uncarved wood) describes Dao's primordial wholeness. Though seemingly minute and formless, nothing in existence can subordinate Dao. If rulers could maintain the Great Dao, all beings would naturally submit. When the qi (vital energy) of yin and yang harmoniously interact, sweet dew descends (symbolizing cosmic harmony)—achieving perfect equilibrium without human intervention.

This passage discusses the essential nature of Dao (the Way) and its role in all things. Zhuangzi's concept of the "True Ruler" (referring to the noumenon of Dao), though minuscule, governs all existence—just as Dao, as the sovereign of all things, requires neither threats nor punishments to naturally draw all things to itself. By preserving the pure and simple Dao without losing it, not only do all things spontaneously submit, but one also connects with the heavens above and the earth below, moving in harmony with the cosmos and nourishing all beings. The "sweet dew" (ganlu) is formed by the harmonious Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth. Ancient texts state that when a ruler's De (Virtue) reaches the heavens, penetrates the earth, and extends to all things, this sweet dew will descend.

Sima Guang believed that when a ruler upholds Dao, all things submit, Qi harmonizes, and the people are naturally transformed. Su Zhe explained: Simplicity is the intrinsic nature of Dao. Dao originally has no name, so its essence is difficult to define. When expanded, it permeates everywhere; when contracted, it is finer than the tip of a hair. Thus, though minute, it cannot be subjugated. Ordinary people who preserve it can mold even dust and chaff into sages like Yao and Shun. But if a ruler loses it, all things will not return to him. The ascending and descending of Yin-Yang energies blend to form sweet dew, evenly nourishing all things. The sage comprehends the supreme Dao to respond to all existence, just as the sweet dew reaches everywhere—hence, he can govern all things.

Wang Anshi said: Dao is inherently nameless; the term "name" is only a forced designation. "Uncarved wood" (pu, the primal state of Dao) represents Dao's undivided root, while "small" refers to its imperceptible minuteness. Before division, though small, it is sufficient to govern all things. Once divided, it becomes concrete objects, and even sages can only manage them. Thus, though the uncarved wood is small, nothing under heaven can subdue it.

Lu Dian held that the uncarved wood exists in the realm of the nameless, dwelling with the divine and moving with creation. Therefore, it is the most precious thing under heaven, with nothing above it. As the sovereign of all things, if a ruler governs through the nameless simplicity of the uncarved wood, all things will naturally submit, and harmony between humanity and the cosmos will resonate accordingly. When heaven and earth unite, sweet dew descends—this is the harmony of the cosmos, requiring no human command.

This passage elucidates the principle of harmonious coexistence between humanity and nature. When people achieve a peaceful golden age through the Dao (the Way), they naturally resonate in harmony with heaven, earth, and the natural world.

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Zhenren Jing) explains: "Pu" (the Uncarved Block) is neither a concrete object nor a conceptual hierarchy—it predates all phenomena and transcends distinctions of high and low, thus nothing in creation can dominate it. By preserving this fundamental simplicity and maintaining one's authentic nature in accordance with spontaneity, all things naturally return to their proper place. When heaven and earth commune in perfect balance, sweet dew descends. This auspicious phenomenon in a state of ultimate harmony isn't achieved through human effort, but emerges from the natural blending of ascending and descending energies—the harmonious interaction of yin and yang qi (vital energy).

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) further elaborates: The true constant state of the Dao existed before heaven and earth took form, during the primordial phase of creation. Being indefinable by conventional names, it is called "Pu." This term metaphorically represents the Dao's wholeness—the purest origin of heaven and earth, what ancient sages called the fundamental Great Dao. Though it fills the cosmos and permeates the void, turning inward reveals its presence within the space of a single heart-mind, so minute as to be nearly imperceptible. This "Pu" appears infinitesimal: formless to the eye, silent to the ear, mysteriously profound beyond measurement. Neither heaven-earth can violate it, nor can sage wisdom interfere with it. Thus while nothing in creation can control it, it serves as the foundation for all existence and the root of every transformation. Should rulers preserve this "Pu," the myriad things will naturally return to them. Maintaining this unbroken unity with the Dao, connecting above with heaven and below with earth, their harmonious interaction nurtures all life. When heaven and earth unite to send down sweet dew, this moisture embodies their harmonious qi—not commanded by human will, but distributed with perfect natural equilibrium.

Huang Maocai observes: "Pu" is simply another name for the Dao. The Dao is inherently nameless, and "Pu" is merely a provisional designation. Among the Four Greats of the cosmos (Dao, heaven, earth, humanity), the Dao stands foremost—what could possibly dominate it? Ancient rulers universally understood this principle. The sweet dew descending from heaven-earth communion manifests their harmonious qi. Within the human body too, when yin-yang interact and water-fire balance, this same spontaneous pattern emerges effortlessly. "Equilibrium" here denotes universal uniformity.

Cheng Dachang adds: Both rain and dew emerge from the qi of heaven-earth interaction, yet rainfall varies in distribution—floods may plague the east while droughts parch the west, rarely achieving perfect balance. Dew differs fundamentally, requiring no... (original text continues after natural paragraph break)

This scripture primarily discusses the relationship between the Dao (the Way) and names. The Dao itself is nameless, yet it governs all named things. Just as the movements of heaven and earth follow natural patterns—whether in times of drought or flood, near or far—balance is ultimately restored.

Chen Jingyuan explains: In the beginning, there was only the nameless Dao. Later, as the Dao dispersed to form concrete things (called "vessels"), names came into being. The sages understood this principle, so when establishing systems of names and distinctions, they knew when to stop. Recognizing boundaries prevents danger—this is wisdom.

Sima Guang observes: Though sages use names to educate the people, they keep things simple and avoid excessive complexity. Su Zhe adds: Sages do not become obsessed with names and forget the root, so they can adapt to change without falling into peril.

Wang Anshi illustrates with the example of Yao and Shun: Yao's virtue and achievements were so vast that the people could not describe them in words (nameless). But when Shun succeeded him, concrete systems emerged (named). Knowing when to stop is crucial, just as Yao, in his later years, allowed Shun to govern in his stead.

Wang Pang concludes: Once systems of names are established, they tend to fragment further, drifting away from their essence. Thus, one must recognize boundaries from the outset to avoid contention and chaos. "Regulation" means transforming the simple, unadorned Dao into concrete things.

Lu Dian (a Song Dynasty scholar) explained: All names and concepts in the world can be grasped and utilized by us, hence called "the beginning" (origin of all things). When systems of names and distinctions are established, things gain clear definitions. After achievements are made and reputation established, knowing when to withdraw aligns with the Dao's natural order. Thus it's said one must understand moderation - knowing when to stop prevents danger.

Cao Daochong (Daoist name Master Renjing) held: Initially, the nameless simplicity governs named things, establishing proper hierarchy where high and low, noble and humble find their appropriate positions. Exceeding this boundary leads to trivial details; after matters are accomplished, one should cease restless thoughts. Neither overexerting oneself with others' concerns nor neglecting inner peace. Stopping restless thoughts and nurturing body-mind ensures lifelong freedom from distress.

Chen Xianggu elaborated: After heaven and earth separated, systems of names emerged. The growth of all things necessarily involves complex processes of beginning and development - how could they exist without names? When things multiply and names proliferate, the key lies in knowing measured governance. Without moderation, one becomes mired in material desires that obstruct the original mind, whence danger arises.

Liu Ji (Daoist name Qingyuanzi) said: Comprehending the Dao reaches this stage where naming systems begin. "The beginning" refers to the Dao itself - the Dao governs all named things, representing the state of mastering all without being mastered by any. Substance necessarily begets names; though mingling with worldly affairs without pursuing fame, reputation naturally manifests. Once reputation exists, not knowing restraint leads to losing one's essence in chasing empty fame; understanding when to stop brings inner serenity and contentment, seeking nothing externally, thus avoiding peril.

Huang Maocai pointed out: "The beginning establishes names" describes the process from non-being to being. Amidst multifarious things, finding no stopping point leads to chasing external objects and losing one's way - this is dangerous. Hence Zhuangzi said "Good fortune lies in stopping at what should be stopped."

Lin Dong interpreted thus: Sages disperse simplicity into concrete objects, establishing names according to those objects. Though this is inevitable, how can one forget essence for empty names or chase branches while losing the root? Therefore sages know to stop without falling into danger, embodying the profound meaning that "the great Dao operates ceaselessly, what goes far must return."

Just as the Dao exists in the world like streams and valleys returning to rivers and seas. Emperor Huizong of Song noted in Imperial Commentary: All things under heaven share one nature. The Dao in the world merges through shared nature, as valleys and seas gather through shared water-nature. Like attracts like, similar qi seeks its kind. What must sages do in governing the world? Simply follow nature.

(Supplementary note: This passage's core discusses the relationship between "names" and "Dao," embodying Daoist wisdom of "knowing when to stop avoids danger." Various commentaries clarify from different angles: establishing naming systems is necessary, but excessive pursuit of reputation deviates from Dao's essence, emphasizing returning to wuwei (non-action) after youwei (action).)

This passage explores the wisdom of "knowing others" versus "knowing oneself":

Su Zhe employs the metaphor of rivers and oceans: The ocean is where all waters converge, while rivers represent their dispersal. The Dao (cosmic origin) resembles the sea, and all things are like rivers. Just as all waters eventually return to the ocean, all phenomena ultimately return to the source of Dao.

Cao Daochong elaborates: The sea is the origin of rivers—though tributaries multiply, all eventually return to their source. Similarly, all thoughts ultimately merge with the Great Dao. Huang Maocai adds: Human pursuit of Dao resembles rivers flowing to the sea—none fail to reach it. But those unaware of Dao's location are like floodwaters lost without proper channels.

Regarding the chapter "Those who know others are wise; those who know themselves are enlightened":

The Imperial Commentary explains: Wisdom resembles eyes that see a hundred paces ahead yet cannot perceive their own lashes. Discerning others' virtues and flaws demonstrates a wise person's skill. The Yijing speaks of "turning the gaze inward"—true enlightenment means returning to stillness like heaven and earth's mirror, revealing all things' essence.

Chen Jingyuan clarifies: Distinguishing others' good and evil is called "wisdom," but remains at the level of understanding externals. Maintaining silent awareness of one's original mind is called "enlightenment"—this higher wisdom aligns with heavenly Dao.

Su Zhe observes: Discernment constitutes wisdom, while dispelling delusions brings enlightenment. As long as discriminating mind persists, one can only know others, not oneself. Complete liberation from delusions allows both self-knowledge and understanding of others.

Cao Daochong notes: Wisdom perceives the external world, while enlightenment illuminates the inner realm. Ye Mengde supplements: Those who know themselves perceive their true nature; those who know others may not—that's merely wisdom. The wise distinguish externals; seeing true nature is enlightenment, allowing the enlightened to illuminate all things.

Liu Ji concludes: Knowing others constitutes external cognition, hence called wisdom; knowing oneself represents internal awakening, therefore termed enlightenment.

This passage compiles annotations from multiple Daoist scholars on the concepts of "enlightened wisdom" and "strength versus weakness" from the Daode Jing:

On Enlightened Wisdom:

Huang Maocai observes that human thoughts are endlessly changing, while individual wisdom has limits—one cannot fully comprehend others. Yet by truly understanding oneself, one grasps the universal nature of all people. Thus, pursuing mere intellectual cleverness is inferior to seeking inner clarity (ming).

Cheng Dachang quotes Zhuangzi to explain: True "enlightenment" (ming) lies not in seeing others clearly, but in seeing oneself. Fixating on others while neglecting self-awareness is to abandon the root for the branches—this is the distinction between cleverness (zhi) and genuine clarity (ming).

Lin Dong adds that wisdom inevitably involves conjecture, whereas clarity (ming) is like sunlight and moonlight naturally illuminating all things without bias.

On Strength and Weakness:

Imperial Commentary notes that those who attain the Dao (De) value virtue (De) over brute force, focusing on mastering themselves rather than overpowering others. Using cunning to oppress the simple or strength to intimidate the weak—these are victories relying on external force.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) argues that power may subdue others but rarely restrains oneself. Only by overcoming selfish desires and returning to one's true nature can one achieve real strength.

Cao Daochong (Master Daozhen Renjing) distinguishes: Overcoming others depends on physical form and talent, while conquering oneself requires mastering emotions. Only by maintaining pure heart-mind (xin) can one attain spiritual fortitude.

Chen Xianggu summarizes: Cleverness and force are external displays, while clarity (ming) and true strength are internal cultivation. With inner clarity, one fully knows oneself; with sustained strength, one gradually approaches the Dao (De).

Ye Mengde emphasizes: Those who conquer themselves inevitably restrain desires, while those who defeat others may fail at this. Thus, only self-mastery constitutes genuine strength—an invincible might.

Liu Ji (Qingyuanzi) supplements: Wisdom sufficient to discern others allows one to prevail without delusion—this is called "force" (li). Clarity (ming) sufficient for self-knowledge enables one to master oneself without being driven by desires—this is called "strength" (qiang).

Huang Maocai concludes: The forceful may overcome others, but such power has limits. True greatness lies in conquering oneself and refraining from contention with external things.

On Contentment:

Chen Jingyuan (Master Bixu) explains: Contentment means controlling desires.

Su Zhe (Yingbin) holds: The contented feel fulfilled in all circumstances, thus remaining perpetually rich. Even possessing the world avails nothing if one harbors insatiability—such a person remains poor.

If a person is always insatiably greedy, they can never attain true abundance in this lifetime.

Cao Daochong (a Daoist practitioner with the religious name "Zhenren Jing") said: Even if one is materially poor, inner contentment is true wealth. Chen Xianggu explained: Those who comprehend the true meaning of the Dao (the Way) will not crave more; knowing satisfaction within is the greatest fortune, for wealth does not lie in quantity.

Ye Mengde believed: Those who chase wealth will never be satisfied, but if they understand contentment, even a simple meal of rice and a gourd of water can bring a sense of abundance. Liu Ji (with the Daoist name "Qingyuanzi") elaborated further: When a person can surpass others yet also conquer themselves, they will realize that true wealth comes from self-cultivation. At this point, all things in the world become their riches, and nothing can add to this fulfillment. This is the meaning behind the Book of Changes saying, "To be truly rich is to achieve great work."

Huang Maocai illustrated with a metaphor: A small bird needs only a single branch to build its nest in the deep forest, and a field mouse drinks only enough to fill its belly. If a person understands contentment, they will possess inexhaustible wealth.

On the Persevering Practitioner:

A true cultivator must have unwavering determination. The Imperial Commentary states: To strive unceasingly is the mark of one who aspires to the Dao. Chen Jingyuan (with the Daoist name "Bixuzi") explained: The so-called "persevering one" is one who diligently practices cultivation. Su Zhe (styled "Yingbin") believed: Those who do not compete with external things yet still strive tirelessly cannot have their resolve shaken by worldly matters. Wang Anshi noted: When a person of wisdom hears the great Dao, they will practice it earnestly—thus, those who persist in cultivation must have firm resolve.

Cao Daochong added: Though the great Dao is lofty and distant, through persistent practice one gradually draws closer, ultimately merging with it in unity. Huang Maocai said: Only by striving unceasingly can one emulate the strength of Heaven’s Dao—those without steadfast determination cannot achieve this. Lin Dong observed: Those who set their minds on cultivation will not be swayed by external things; this unyielding perseverance can match the enduring strength of Heaven’s Dao.

On Holding to the Root:

Only those who can hold to the root will endure. The Imperial Commentary explains: Only by steadfastly adhering to the correct path can one last; those who drift with the current can only sustain themselves briefly. Sima Guang said: One must find their proper place to attain stability. Su Zhe believed: Only when the mind remains unmoved amid endless external changes can one endure.

Cao Daochong pointed out: When one is outwardly settled in their role and inwardly holds fast to the Dao, there is nothing that cannot endure. Chen Xianggu concluded: Finding one’s proper place allows one to abide in the Dao, and abiding in the Dao naturally leads to lasting stability.

Ye Mengde stated that "place" refers to where a person finds stability and purpose in life, yet the greatest foundation for human existence lies in the Dao (the Way). The Book of Changes says, "The Gen hexagram symbolizes stopping—coming to rest in its proper place." However, a "place" still has a fixed location, whereas the Dao is ever-changing and omnipresent. Wherever one abides in it, how could it not become eternal? This is what is meant by "the Dao endures."

Huang Maocai observed that though renewal and transformation never cease, as long as we maintain inner constancy, each change marks a fresh beginning, enabling true longevity. "To die but not perish" is genuine long life.

The Imperial Commentary explains: Life has its beginning, and death has its destination. By examining the origins and ends of life and death, one comprehends their principle. Sages understand the patterns of day and night, recognizing that death and life are fundamentally no different. Thus, though the form changes, the spirit does not perish—it abides with heaven and earth without limit. Is this not true longevity?

Sima Guang held that while the body perishes, the Dao remains eternal. Su Zhe remarked that though the transformations of life and death are vast, one’s innate nature remains clear and undiminished—this is why the ancient sages could transcend life and death. Wang Anshi noted that when sages "die but do not perish," it is no different from being alive, hence they are called long-lived.

Wang Pang further distinguished: The virtuous become gui (ghosts) after death, returning to their original truth; sages become shen (spirits), transcending life and death entirely; fools degrade into mere "things," dead even while alive. Those who cultivate the Dao and refine their forms may undergo countless transformations, yet their true nature remains luminous and endless—this is genuine longevity, the fulfillment of heavenly destiny.

Lu Dian asserted that life and death are fundamentally the same. Like a cicada shedding its shell or a snake sloughing its skin, the body is but a temporary dwelling. Though the shell dies, the cicada remains; though the skin decays, the snake is not lost—because the "true" essence never perishes. This resonates with the Buddhist concept of "non-extinction."

Cao Daochong maintained that the body has limits, but the mysterious nature endures. Chen Xianggu observed that death is inevitable, and form and qi (vital energy) will disperse—this is the natural course of life. What does not perish is the essence preserved through self-awareness, contentment, and unwavering adherence to one’s true place—this is real eternity, distinct from worldly notions of lifespan.

Those who live to a hundred years cannot be compared with ordinary people. Master Liu Ji of Qingyuan explains: A person's limbs and skeleton will eventually turn to dust, for the cycle of life and death is as natural as the alternation of day and night. Those who have truly attained the Dao transcend the boundaries of life and death—while their physical form may perish, their essential nature remains unaffected. Thus, true longevity lies not in the body's endurance but in the indestructibility of the spirit (Shen). How could those who have not deeply cultivated the Dao ever reach such a state?

Huang Maocai remarks: The Perfected Ones (Zhenren) of ancient times neither clung to life nor resented death. They neither rejoiced at birth nor resisted death, coming and going with complete freedom. How could those who have reached such a realm remain bound by the constraints of life and death?

Shao Ruoyu, known as Benlaizi ("Original Master"), elaborates further: Though the physical form must die, the essential nature (referring to the primordial spirit, Yuan Shen, and true nature) never perishes. This nature exists in the eternal realm beyond birth and destruction, enduring through countless kalpas without vanishing—this is the genuine meaning of longevity.