《沖虛至德真經四解》Vol. 15

This passage explores the relationship between human effort ("li") and heavenly mandate ("ming") through a dialogue between these two concepts. Gao Shouyuan synthesizes commentaries from scholars like Zhang Zhan, Lu Zhongxuan, and Fan Zhixu to present these key insights:

Fate is a predetermined arrangement existing prior to earthly existence, much like certain events that haven't yet occurred but whose principles already exist. Some believe lifespan depends on cultivation methods, and success on personal talent, but this only scratches the surface of truth.

The relationship between fate and effort works thus: fate without effort achieves nothing, while effort without fate's blessing rarely succeeds. Those favored by heaven still need effort as counterpart; diligent people may gain fate's recognition. Yet some goals remain unattainable despite all efforts—this reveals absence of heavenly mandate. Those relying solely on fate passively await opportunity. Absolute faith in fate while dismissing effort is gravely mistaken, just as believing only in effort while denying fate proves equally misguided.

Illustrative examples abound: Peng Zu lived eight hundred years though less wise than Yao and Shun, while Yan Hui died at thirty-two despite outstanding talent. Confucius with his great virtue suffered hardship in Chen and Cai, yet the tyrannical King Zhou retained his throne. The virtuous Ji Zha held no noble title, while the treacherous Tian Heng controlled Qi. Boyi and Shuqi starved at Shouyang Mountain, while the Ji family grew far wealthier than the virtuous Liuxia Hui. These cases prove human effort cannot determine lifespan, wisdom, or social status—all ordained by heaven.

Finally, fate counters: "If something is called 'ming' (mandate), how could it possibly be controlled by human effort?" This echoes the ancient saying: "What comes about without knowing how—that is ming." True heavenly mandate is invisibly predetermined, utterly beyond human power to alter. Only by understanding this inevitability and accepting it peacefully does one attain the realm of virtuous De.

This passage explores the relationship between "destiny" (ming, referring to heavenly mandate and natural laws) and "human effort" (li, denoting conscious striving). Destiny is predetermined by heaven, while effort lies within human control. Whether things are straight or crooked, long or short, whether one attains wealth and honor or poverty and low status—all emerge naturally as manifestations of destiny's essence, beyond forceful alteration by human will.

The philosopher Yang Zhu (Warring States period) advocated indulging desires, but the Liezi text points out this contradicts the concept of heavenly mandate. In reality, social order and chaos alternate, love and hatred intertwine, creating complex and ever-changing circumstances. The sages (those who attained the Dao) acknowledge destiny's existence while recognizing human effort's role, thereby preserving social ethics without negating conscious striving.

History presents contrasting examples: some challenged destiny through deceit and violence like King Chu inquiring about the Zhou dynasty's sacred cauldrons; others violated their nature for empty fame like Bo Yi and Shu Qi starving on Shouyang Mountain. Through these opposing cases, Liezi demonstrates all beings must find balance—neither excessively relying on effort to disrupt innate nature, nor suppressing genuine life for superficial reputation. This constitutes the passage's core message.

Commentator Lu Zhongxuan explains: Destiny brings things to fruition while human effort propels them forward—this constitutes "fate's operation." Zhuangzi's advice to "accept it as destiny" and Confucius claiming to "understand heaven's mandate at fifty" both illustrate human inability to alter destiny. Yet Confucius still sought to serve as a whip-bearing officer during his travels, proving effort shouldn't be neglected.

Commentator Zhenghe adds: Destiny and effort each have their domain. Some matters lie beyond human capability and shouldn't be forced; others show even destiny cannot violate human nature. Longevity and premature death, adversity and success, nobility and baseness, wealth and poverty—all things have their governing principles. Precisely because they cannot be resisted, we must follow their flow; precisely because they cannot be stopped, we must accept them calmly. These are neither changeable by effort nor violable by destiny—all follow natural patterns. Why exhaust oneself pursuing forced understanding? Hence the saying "How could I possibly comprehend it completely?"

Time flows ceaselessly, hence human lifespans vary in length. Peng Zu lived eight hundred years while Yan Hui died young—such is the manifestation of differing longevity. Fate follows no fixed pattern, thus circumstances bring both gains and losses—Confucius suffered hardship while King Zhou of Yin prospered, demonstrating the contrast between adversity and success. Ji Zha held no noble rank in Wu, yet Tian Heng monopolized power in Qi, showing the inherent disparity between high and low station. Yet viewed through the lens of the Dao (the Way), nobility and commonness are fundamentally equal: Bo Yi and Shu Qi starved at Shouyang Mountain while the Ji clan surpassed Zhan Qin in wealth, illustrating natural differences between poverty and riches that the Dao likewise renders equivalent.

Nature's distinctions defy ordinary understanding; thus we follow its course, allowing all things to occupy their proper place, accepting circumstances without forced alteration. Longevity or brevity, adversity or success, nobility or humility, wealth or poverty—all arise from one's own natural endowment. Who could deliberately arrange such things? Only those who comprehend Heaven's decree refrain from grasping at the unknowable. When even life and death lie beyond our control, why let trivial matters of gain and loss, fortune and misfortune disturb the Shen (spirit)?

Beigongzi complained to Ximenzi: "We share the same era, yet people elevate you; belong to the same clan, yet they respect you; possess comparable features, yet they favor you; speak similarly, yet they heed your words; act alike, yet they trust you; serve together in office, yet you're more valued; farm the same land, yet you grow richer; trade equally, yet your profits multiply. I wear coarse cloth and eat plain food, dwell in a thatched hut and walk barefoot, while you dress in silks, feast on delicacies, reside in mansions, and ride in carriages. At home, you ignore me; at court, you look down on me. For years you've declined my invitations and refused to accompany my outings. Can your De (Virtue) truly surpass mine?"

Ximenzi replied: "I know no absolute truth. But where your endeavors meet obstacles, mine find smooth passage—is this not proof of our differing moral substance?" Beigongzi fell silent and returned home dejected. On the road, he encountered Dongguo Xiansheng, who noticed his downcast expression and visible shame. Beigongzi then recounted the entire exchange.

Master Dongguo said to Master Ximen: "I shall dispel the shame in your heart by taking you to meet Master Beigong for clarification. Why do you hold such contempt for Master Beigong?"

Master Ximen replied: "Master Beigong keeps insisting that we share similar backgrounds, age, appearance, and conduct, yet our social status and wealth differ vastly. I told him: 'This is hardly surprising. You constantly meet obstacles in your endeavors while I achieve success effortlessly - this proves how destiny favors some and neglects others. Yet you stubbornly maintain our equivalence - such shamelessness!'"

Master Dongguo enlightened him: "Your concept of favor refers to talent and virtue (De), while mine concerns something different. Master Beigong possesses profound virtue but suffers harsh destiny; you enjoy fortunate destiny but shallow virtue. Your success doesn't stem from wisdom, nor does his adversity from foolishness - both are Heaven's decree, beyond human control. Such distinctions arise naturally, beyond mortal power to alter."

"Yet you grow arrogant through good fortune while virtuous Beigong feels inferior - both misunderstanding this natural principle." Hearing this, Master Ximen said: "Say no more, Master. I dare not argue further." (He became sincerely convinced through understanding this truth.)

Lu Chongxuan's commentary explains: Ximen's success in pursuing fame and rank was destined, as was Beigong's failure. Those ignorant of Heaven's mandate become prideful; those who comprehend it remain free from worry and shame. Gain and loss, success and failure bear no relation to wisdom, talent or virtue. Ximen dared not argue further because he recognized destiny's arrangement, no longer presuming upon his own virtue.

Returning home, Master Beigong wore coarse cloth yet felt robed in fox fur, ate bean porridge yet savored fine grains, dwelled in a thatched hut yet resided in mansions, rode a broken cart yet traveled in luxurious carriages. Serenely content throughout life, he remained utterly indifferent to others' glory or disgrace. For he understood: True joy resides within, not in external things.

Lu Chongxuan adds: Understanding Heaven's mandate eliminates worry and shame, rendering comparisons of virtue's depth meaningless.

When Master Dongguo heard of this, he sighed: "Master Beigong has slumbered too long! That a single saying could awaken him shows how easily transformation occurs!"

Lu Chongxuan explains: "Slumber signifies unawakened state; upon enlightenment, one realizes this was ordinary truth all along."

Zhenghe-era commentary observes: Even among those sharing similar backgrounds, conduct, age and appearance, distinctions between nobility and baseness, wealth and poverty may be utterly divergent.

This scripture conveys Daoist wisdom on destiny and virtue (De) through two illustrative stories.

The first story contrasts Beigongzi and Ximenzi. Beigongzi lived in poverty, wearing coarse cloth, eating simple food, and dwelling in a thatched hut, yet he felt inferior due to his hardships. Ximenzi, on the other hand, lived in luxury, dressed in fine silks, dined on delicacies, and resided in a grand mansion, yet he grew arrogant from his privileged circumstances. Master Dongguo points out that both were fixated on external conditions, failing to recognize that virtue is the true foundation. One who truly comprehends the Dao (the Way) remains content with their lot, unshaken by wealth or poverty—wearing coarse cloth yet feeling the warmth of fox fur, eating plain food yet savoring the richness of fine cuisine, dwelling in a humble hut as if it were a palace, riding a broken cart as if it were a splendid carriage. Honor and disgrace, gain and loss, are like fleeting birds and insects before one’s eyes, insufficient to disturb the tranquility of the heart.

The second story recounts the friendship between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya. Though they served opposing political factions—Guan Zhong supported Prince Jiu, while Bao Shuya served Prince Xiaobai (later Duke Huan of Qi)—their bond remained unshaken. Amid the complex power struggles within the Qi royal family, their friendship transcended political allegiances, embodying the Daoist wisdom of "knowing destiny" (zhi ming)—understanding the workings of fate while steadfastly upholding one’s moral integrity.

The core message is this: Destiny (external circumstances) is decreed by heaven, but virtue (De, inner cultivation) depends on oneself. A practitioner of the Dao should focus on nurturing virtue, accepting fate with equanimity, and remaining unmoved by wealth, poverty, honor, or disgrace.

This passage recounts a historical episode from the Spring and Autumn period in the state of Qi. Duke Xi of Qi had a younger brother named Yizhong Nian, whose son was called Gongsun Wuzhi. The duke doted excessively on this nephew, granting him privileges equal to those of the crown prince, which caused concern among the populace about potential civil strife.

At that time, the Qi ministers Guan Zhong (also known as Guan Yiwu) and Zhao Hu fled to the state of Lu with Prince Jiu (the second son of Duke Xiang of Qi). Another minister, Bao Shuya, escaped to the state of Ju with Prince Xiaobai (Prince Jiu's younger brother). As feared, Gongsun Wuzhi eventually staged a coup, murdered Duke Xiang, and usurped the throne, only to be swiftly killed by the people himself.

With Qi suddenly rulerless, both Prince Jiu and Prince Xiaobai raced back to claim the throne. Guan Zhong intercepted Xiaobai's party en route, shooting an arrow that struck Xiaobai's belt hook (Xiaobai feigned death to survive). Ultimately, Xiaobai arrived first and ascended as Duke Huan of Qi. The new ruler threatened Lu: "Prince Jiu is my brother—I cannot bear to kill him myself, so you must do it. Zhao Hu and Guan Zhong are my enemies—hand them over or face invasion." Under duress, Lu executed Prince Jiu; Zhao Hu committed suicide, while Guan Zhong was imprisoned and extradited to Qi.

Bao Shuya then counseled Duke Huan: "Guan Zhong possesses exceptional statecraft." The duke protested, "He tried to kill me!" Bao replied, "A wise ruler transcends personal grudges. Moreover, one who served his former lord faithfully will serve you just as loyally. To dominate the feudal states, you must employ Guan Zhong." Convinced, Duke Huan welcomed Guan Zhong with honors, not only pardoning him but elevating him above Qi's aristocratic Gao and Guo clans, honoring him as "Uncle Zhong" (a filial title second only to father). This decision proved pivotal in Duke Huan's eventual rise as hegemon.

Guan Zhong later reflected: "When young, I split profits unfairly with Bao Shu in business—he never called me greedy, knowing my poverty. When I bungled his affairs, he blamed circumstances, not my incompetence. Thrice dismissed from office, he knew I lacked the right patron. Thrice fleeing battle, he understood my filial duty to my aged mother. When Prince Jiu fell, Zhao Hu died nobly while I endured the shame of captivity..." This moving recollection reveals Guan Zhong's profound gratitude for Bao Shuya's unwavering understanding.

This passage explores the relationship between human connections and destiny through the story of Guan Zhong, Bao Shuya, and Duke Huan of Qi (Xiao Bai).

Bao Shuya understood Guan Zhong's character deeply. Even when Guan Zhong was imprisoned and humiliated, Bao never considered him shameless, knowing he wouldn't be ashamed of minor setbacks but only concerned that his reputation might not become known throughout the land. Guan Zhong's famous lament—"My parents gave me life, but Bao Shuya knows my heart"—became the origin of the celebrated phrases "the friendship of Guan and Bao" and "Duke Huan's talent for employing capable men."

However, the author points out that there exists no perfect formula for friendship nor absolute method for employing talent. This truth isn't limited to Guan Zhong, Bao Shuya, and Duke Huan—it's a universal principle. Human encounters are all predestined: a talented person's employment is fate, just as gaining opportunities through friendships is fate. This involves not just heavenly will but also human planning, yet ultimately all returns to destiny.

Bao Shuya had no choice but to recommend Guan Zhong wholeheartedly; Duke Huan had no choice but to employ his former enemy Guan Zhong; Zhao Hu (Guan Zhong's colleague) had no choice but to die for his former lord—these were all arrangements beyond human control. Destiny manifests through human effort, and human effort fulfills destiny, with no room for selfish interference.

Between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya as close friends, and between Guan Zhong and Duke Huan as ruler and minister: when dividing wealth, Bao never considered Guan greedy for taking more; when plans failed, Bao never thought him foolish; when dismissed three times from office, Bao never deemed him incompetent; when fleeing three battles, Bao never judged him cowardly; when imprisoned and humiliated, Bao never saw him as shameless—this was Bao Shuya's wisdom in understanding people. From Guan Zhong shooting Duke Huan's belt hook during the Battle of Ju Road, to Duke Huan personally removing Guan's shackles at the Tangfu welcome, until finally appointing him as chancellor and honoring him as "Zhong Father"—helping Duke Huan unite the feudal lords nine times and bring order to the realm—this was Duke Huan's way of employing talent.

Yet ultimately, the seemingly perfect "friendship of Guan and Bao" isn't truly about "skillful friendship," just as Duke Huan's "talent for employing capable men" isn't truly about "skillful employment." These represent naturally attained states that cannot be achieved through forced effort. True ultimate friendship and the way of employing talent both follow the natural course—they cannot be demanded or contrived.

When Guan Zhong (courtesy name Yiwu) fell ill, Duke Huan of Qi (Xiao Bai) visited him and said, "Zhongfu's illness has become grave, and there are matters we can no longer avoid discussing." This meant the situation was so serious that certain affairs of state needed to be addressed before Guan Zhong's passing.

The Duke asked, "If your illness proves incurable, to whom should I entrust the governance of our state?" His first suggestion was Bao Shuya. Guan Zhong rejected this, explaining that Bao Shuya was too morally rigid and self-righteous (a man of austere virtue), overly focused on personal cultivation. He disdained associating with those he deemed inferior and constantly measured others by his own standards. Once aware of someone's faults, he would never forget them (incapable of tolerance). Were he to govern, he would make excessive demands of his ruler above and alienate the common people below. He would inevitably rule through harsh laws—a governance too narrow in its Dao. When governance lacks breadth, it violates popular sentiment and fails to unite hearts. Such a minister would quickly lose his sovereign's trust.

"Then who would be suitable?" pressed the Duke. Guan Zhong replied, "If we must choose, Xi Peng would serve. Though occupying high office, he remains free of arrogance (forgets his elevation), so subordinates never rebel against him. He feels ashamed of falling short of the Yellow Emperor's sagehood, yet shows compassion for those inferior to himself (grieves for those beneath him)." Such a man embraces all people.

Guan Zhong elaborated: Those who transform others through De (Virtue) we call sages—they educate the people in accordance with the Dao without coercion. Those who aid others through material means we call worthies—the more they give, the richer they become. But those who govern from self-proclaimed superiority never win hearts; only worthies who remain humble gain popular support. Xi Peng understands governing by focusing on major affairs while neglecting minor ones—some state matters he leaves unheard, some household affairs he turns a blind eye to (concerning the state, there are things he doesn't hear; concerning households, there are things he doesn't see). As the ancient saying goes: Without feigning deafness and blindness, one cannot accomplish great deeds.

Guan Zhong concluded, "If we must select someone, Xi Peng would suffice." Guo Xiang's commentary notes: Attempting to oversee everything concentrates all responsibility on oneself, leaving subordinates directionless. Thus measured delegation is correct. Because Xi Peng hadn't attained perfect virtue, Guan Zhong could only say he was "barely acceptable."

(Note: "Zhongfu" was Duke Huan's honorific for Guan Zhong; "making excessive demands of the ruler" refers to oppressing the sovereign; "alienating the common people" means opposing popular sentiment; "Xi Peng" was a senior Qi official; "Guo Xiang" was a Western Jin Dynasty Neo-Daoist scholar who annotated the Liezi.)

This passage illustrates the Daoist wisdom of "conforming to heavenly principles" through the stories of Guan Zhong (styled Yiwu) and his relationships with Bao Shuya and Xi Peng.

Guan Zhong did not harshly criticize others for common human frailties, thus no complaints about him were heard in the state. He overlooked minor faults in people, so no internal conflicts arose within his clan. This wasn't because Guan Zhong deliberately slighted Bao Shuya or intentionally favored Xi Peng. Human relationships naturally fluctuate—sometimes beginning close then growing distant, or starting distant then becoming intimate. These shifts in closeness aren't determined by personal will but manifest the natural workings of heavenly principles.

When recommending talents, Guan Zhong's choices to favor some and not others were dictated by circumstances. Duke Huan of Qi (Xiaobai) chose Xi Peng over Bao Shuya because their respective destinies determined it. Had Bao Shuya lacked the proper destiny, even Guan Zhong's strongest recommendation would have been useless; similarly, had Xi Peng been fated otherwise, Guan Zhong's efforts would have been in vain.

While people praise the deep friendship between Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya, true friendship doesn't lie in forced maintenance. Just as Duke Huan excelled at employing men, true leadership doesn't involve coercion. All worldly affairs follow the momentum of their times: Zhao Hu died for Prince Jiu because circumstances demanded it, just as Duke Huan's employment of Guan Zhong responded to historical necessity. Though Bao Shuya recommended Guan Zhong, when governing Qi's affairs Guan Zhong in turn recommended Xi Peng—these were choices made according to circumstances, not personal bias.

Bao Shuya's gentle nature preserved friendships, but his overly scrupulous and rigid character made him unfit for statecraft. Guan Zhong's changing treatment of Bao Shuya—initially close then distant—wasn't a matter of personal preference. Truly enlightened rulers harbor no private grudges because they understand how to act in accordance with the Dao (the Way).

This passage elucidates principles for conducting oneself in the world. Those of true virtue (De) do not quibble over trivial matters, but rather feel ashamed when unable to contribute to the greater good. As ministers, they should maintain self-respect while embracing the responsibility of bearing the world's burdens. Those who transform others through virtue are called sages, yet the realm of sagehood extends far beyond this; those who assist others materially are called worthies, but the domain of worthiness also reaches much further.

Laozi taught that tolerance leads to impartiality, and impartiality qualifies one to be a true ruler. Reputation stems from actual deeds—only those who achieve impartiality may be called "just," and only those embodying regal qualities may rule. Consider Bao Shuya: he wouldn't associate with those beneath him and never forgot others' faults—how could this be called tolerance? Contrast this with Xi Peng, who neither fawned on superiors nor belittled subordinates. Though ashamed he couldn't match the Yellow Emperor's sagacity, he showed compassion for those less capable. In state affairs, he didn't micromanage every detail; in household matters, he avoided unnecessary interference—this truly embodies the Dao of tolerant impartiality.

When Guan Zhong recommended officials to Duke Huan of Qi, his judgment that Bao Shuya was unfit to govern wasn't meant to disparage him, nor was his endorsement of Xi Peng intended as flattery. These assessments stemmed not from personal bias but complete adherence to the natural order (Dao).

Deng Xi excelled in ambiguous rhetoric and created a penal code inscribed on bamboo slips. When Zheng statesman Zi Chan adopted this code, Deng Xi repeatedly exploited its loopholes to embarrass him. Zi Chan first imprisoned Deng Xi, then executed him. Historical accounts vary: the Zuo Zhuan records that Si Chuan killed Deng Xi while continuing to use his bamboo penal code, with Deng Xi dying twenty years after Zi Chan's death.

This illustrates three points: Zi Chan adopted the bamboo penal code out of necessity, not genuine approval; Deng Xi's harassment of Zi Chan was circumstantial; and Zi Chan's execution of Deng Xi was equally compelled. The principle aligns with the previous chapter's teaching: creating laws depends on ability, while suffering punishment is destiny (ming); adopting laws also stems from ability, just as executing their creator is fated. Having talent is ability, while unrecognized talent is fate. Adopting the bamboo code responded to circumstances, as did executing Deng Xi—both were compelled by the times.

This passage explores the relationship between life/death and celestial blessings/punishments through historical anecdotes. The story of Zichan executing Deng Xi is actually a parable conveying deeper truths.

To live well when life is granted may stem from accumulating virtue (De) and aligning with circumstances, seemingly through human effort, yet this is ultimately heaven's blessing. Natural survival and tranquility may not rely solely on benevolence or wisdom, but maintaining sincerity and smooth fulfillment of aspirations throughout life—is this not celestial favor?

To face death with composure when it comes may result from wicked deeds or dire circumstances—fearing no punishment, clinging not to life—seemingly self-destruction, yet still heaven's will. Natural death and adversity may not stem wholly from cruelty or ignorance, but meeting one's end with violent intent in desperate straits—such fitting demise is also celestial favor.

Lu Chongxuan (Tang Dynasty Daoist) explains: To live when the time for life is right is heaven's blessing; to die when the time for death is right is equally heaven's blessing. For instance, Guan Zhong flourishing under Duke Huan of Qi received celestial favor, just as the assassin Chu Ni preserving his honor by dashing against a locust tree also received celestial favor.

When one should live but cannot—such as dying young amid prosperity—this is heaven's punishment; when one should die but lingers—such as surviving in disgrace—this too is heaven's punishment. Lu cites examples: Dong Xian meeting no good end despite high rank, or "human swine" (victims of mutilation) trapped between unbearable life and unattainable death—both manifest celestial retribution.

The text emphasizes life and death being preordained, suggesting heavenly design behind human fortunes. It advises aligning with nature's flow—neither forcibly grasping at life nor compulsively seeking death.

This scripture explores the relationship between life, death, and destiny, conveying these essential insights:

The cycle of life and death follows natural patterns—some lives are sustained while others perish, all being normal manifestations of natural processes. To be born and die naturally is heaven's blessing, whereas untimely survival or unnatural death represents nature's retribution for violating its laws. The transformations between life and death operate like the movement of fate itself, their mysteries beyond even the wisest comprehension.

The text clarifies that life and death are determined neither by external forces nor human will—they represent natural laws that wisdom cannot alter. Neither heaven nor earth nor all creatures can defy these natural patterns. A sage's wisdom cannot interfere with the tides of fortune, nor can ghosts and spirits deceive those who have truly attained the Dao. The Way of nature accomplishes all things through silent operation, maintaining peace and tranquility while appearing inactive (Wuwei) yet leaving nothing undone.

The author contends that truly enlightened individuals understand life and death as an endless cycle (where life continues death, and death initiates new life), thus avoiding attachment to using wisdom to change the unchangeable. The Dao's operation is profoundly mysterious—without boundaries or distinctions, functioning completely spontaneously without requiring external compulsion.

This scripture elucidates the profound realm of the "Way of Nature." The term "deep" (yao) signifies unfathomable mystery, while "vast" (mo) denotes boundless expanse, describing how the Dao of Heaven (natural law) is profoundly mysterious and supremely tranquil—so much so that the myriad beings cannot fathom or disturb its operation.

Though Heaven and Earth are vast, they must follow the principles of nature; though the wisdom of sages is refined, it cannot defy natural law; though ghosts and spirits are enigmatic, they too cannot deceive the natural order. This is because the Way of Nature accomplishes all things silently, without need for words. In its state of Wuwei (non-action), it remains utterly still, maintaining perfect peace and serenity; when it acts (youwei), it responds to all beings, adapting to changes without being misled by appearances.

Fan Shi (the commentator) further explains: The Dao of Heaven is so profoundly mysterious that nothing can perceive its limits; it is so perfectly tranquil that nothing can disrupt its course. The transformations of life and death are all manifestations of natural law, requiring no human debate or artificial additions. By maintaining harmony, there is neither deficiency nor excess; by preserving tranquility, there is no disturbance. Those who align with the Way of Nature can peacefully accept all changes, understanding that certain things are beyond human control and thus embracing them with equanimity. Only those who attain this state are truly those who comprehend the Mandate of Heaven.

This passage emphasizes the supreme authority of the Way of Nature, pointing out that whether it be Heaven and Earth, sages, or spirits, all must abide by natural law. Human beings, in turn, ought to harmonize with nature and preserve inner peace and serenity.