《南華真經循本》Vol. 11

This passage comes from Chapter 11 "Qū Qiè" (Opening Trunks) of the outer chapters in Nanhua Zhenjing Xunben (Following the Original Meaning of the Zhuangzi), as expounded by Lu-ling scholar Luo Miandao and collated by his disciple Peng Xiang. It explores how worldly wisdom and anti-theft measures ironically become tools for grand thieves.

The text employs three metaphors to illustrate the limitations of防盗 devices: the trunk-breaker (qū qiè) pries open boxes from underarm positions, the pickpocket (tàn náng) unties knotted pouch closures (shè jiān téng), and the cabinet-cracker (gù jiōng jué) breaks door bolts and locks. These seemingly clever protective measures prove futile when confronted by grand thieves who simply carry away the entire container, rendering previous safeguards meaningless.

The discussion then turns to historical events in Qi State: Originally modeling itself on the sages' Dao, Qi established comprehensive systems with two-thousand-li city walls,完备 ancestral temples, and orderly urban-rural governance. But after Tian Chengzi (Chen Heng) assassinated his ruler and usurped the throne, he not only stole Qi's sovereignty but also appropriated these very methods of sage governance. Though bearing a thief's notoriety, he enjoyed the reverence accorded to legendary sage-kings like Yao and Shun—minor states dared not condemn him, major states dared not punish him. The Tian clan ultimately ruled Qi for twelve generations. This demonstrates how the sages' governing methods became instruments for maintaining a thief's regime.

Note: Tian Chengzi, originally named Chen Heng, descended from Prince Wan of Chen State during the Spring and Autumn period. When Chen suffered internal strife, Prince Wan fled to Qi and changed his surname to Tian (Chen and Tian being phonetically similar in ancient pronunciation). Five generations later, Tian Qi became a Qi minister who gradually seized power through tax control, with his descendants ultimately replacing the Jiang-family Qi rulers. This historical episode validates the Daoist view that "the sages' laws become thieves' resources."

This passage presents two historical anecdotes that illustrate Daoist critiques of conventional values.

The first part recounts how the Tian clan gradually seized control of the Qi state. Beginning with small-scale populist measures—collecting taxes with small measures but distributing grain with large ones—the Tians cultivated popular support over nine generations until Tian He finally usurped the throne. Though not yet formally in power before Tian He, divination had already foretold the Jiang clan's displacement by the Chen descendants (the Tians originally hailed from the Chen state).

The latter section employs the story of the infamous robber Zhi to satirize conventional notions of "sagehood." Listing four virtuous ministers—Guan Longfeng, Bi Gan, Chang Hong, and Wu Zixu—who all met tragic ends, the text introduces Robber Zhi's subversive argument: even thieves have their own "Dao"—divining hidden treasures demonstrates "sagacity," leading the charge shows "courage," covering the retreat embodies "righteousness," timing actions displays "wisdom," and equitable loot distribution proves "benevolence." Here Daoism exposes how so-called sagehood often serves the powerful—just as lips perish without teeth, or how Lu state's weak tribute wine triggered the siege of Handan, all phenomena remain interconnected.

Contextual notes:

1. "Xumi" refers to an ancient light punishment where convicts wore coarse cloth and straw ropes for labor.

2. The Handan siege典故: King Xuan of Chu, angered by Duke Gong of Lu's diluted tribute wine, allied with Qi to attack Lu. King Hui of Wei—long coveting Zhao's Handan—seized this opportunity to besiege the city.

3. Daoism contends that worldly "sage wisdom" often becomes weaponized by the powerful, transforming into tools that harm common people.

This passage reveals the inherent contradiction between social norms and human authenticity through historical anecdotes and Daoist philosophy.

First, consider this historical account: During a gathering of feudal lords in Chu, Lu presented weak wine while Zhao offered rich, strong liquor. When the Chu official in charge of wines demanded Zhao's superior vintage and was refused, he spitefully swapped the two states' offerings. The Chu king, mistaking Zhao for deliberately presenting inferior wine, subsequently besieged Handan.

The Daoist perspective then unfolds: Whenever sages (those who establish rituals and laws) emerge in the world, great thieves inevitably follow. Only by discarding the ways of sages and letting go of thieves can true peace prevail. Just as riverbeds dry when valleys empty, and abysses fill when hills are leveled, when the norms established by sages vanish, great thieves disappear naturally, and the world returns to tranquility.

The text incisively observes: As long as sage-made rituals persist, great thieves will never cease. Because thieves co-opt these normative tools—when standard measures like dou and hu are established, thieves steal the measures themselves; when weighing scales are created, they appropriate the scales; when tally tokens and jade seals serve as credentials, they hijack the entire verification system; when benevolence (ren) and righteousness (yi) are promoted, thieves weaponize these very virtues. Isn't this reality? Those who steal belt hooks face execution, while state-usurping thieves become feudal lords. Don't these lords, with their grand displays of "benevolence and righteousness" at their gates, represent the ultimate theft of wisdom and virtue?

Thus Zhuangzi proposes: To eliminate great thieves, we must completely abolish the sage's systems. Practical measures include: discarding pearls and jade to remove targets for petty thieves; burning tally tokens to restore people's natural simplicity; breaking scales and measures to end disputes; abolishing musical regulations to recover natural hearing; eliminating ornate colors to regain authentic vision; and destroying compasses and squares to return artisans to innate craftsmanship.

The core philosophy emerges: Just as fish cannot survive without deep waters, a state's vital instruments should never be lightly displayed. The ritual systems created by sages constitute these state instruments—they were never meant to govern the world. Only by utterly abandoning sagely wisdom and artifice will great thieves vanish; only by destroying precious valuables will petty thieves disappear.

The ancient craftsman Gong Chui could draw perfect circles with his bare fingers, and from this people began pursuing technical skill. Thus we see that true "great skill" appears clumsy by comparison. We must pare down the virtues of exemplars like Zeng Shen and Shi Qiu, restrain the doctrines of Yang Zhu and Mo Di, and discard notions of artificial benevolence and righteousness—only then can the world's virtue return to its natural unified state.

If all people preserved inner clarity, the world would not fall into disorder; if they preserved inner wisdom, the world would bear no burdens; if they preserved genuine understanding, the world would know no confusion; if they preserved their natural essence, the world would never stray from the proper path. Figures like Zeng Shen, Shi Qiu, Yang Zhu, Mo Di, the musician Shi Kuang, the craftsman Gong Chui, and the sharp-eyed Li Zhu—all these outwardly flaunted their virtues and thereby threw the world into chaos. Such behavior finds no sanction in the great Dao (the Way).

Have you not heard of the most ideal society? In high antiquity, during the reigns of twelve sage-kings like Rongcheng and Dating, people tied knots to record events. They ate with relish, dressed comfortably, were content with their customs, and delighted in their dwellings. Neighboring states were within sight of each other, their roosters and dogs audible across the borders, yet people grew old and died without ever visiting one another. This was governance at its finest.

But today we make the common people crane their necks and stand on tiptoe. When they hear of some worthy man, they pack provisions to follow him, abandoning their families at home and turning their backs on their rulers. Their footprints cover the territories of feudal lords, their carriage tracks crisscrossing lands a thousand miles away—all because rulers prize cleverness above all. When those who govern pursue cleverness instead of following the Dao (the Way), the world falls into great disorder.

How do we know this is so? When bows, crossbows, snares and arrows proliferate, the birds in heaven find no peace. When fishhooks and nets multiply, the fish in water grow restless. When traps and hunting nets fill the mountains, the beasts of the forest live in constant fear. When sophistry, deception and specious arguments abound, the people become bewildered by glib tongues.

Theories like the "Hard and White" debate—which arbitrarily identifies hardness with whiteness and forcibly equates dissimilar things—belong to the school of Gongsun Long. People compete to prove who is cleverest, their words slick and ever-shifting. But the sage holds fast to the Dao (the principle of natural non-action) and takes no part in such disputes.

This passage explains how excessive pursuit of cleverness leads to chaos in the world. Those who endlessly debate to showcase their intelligence are like repeatedly bleaching white cloth—eventually staining it instead. The metaphor of "dissolving the grime-covered body" illustrates this paradox: while washing removes dirt, excessive cleansing damages the skin itself.

The fundamental cause of recurring chaos in the world lies in people's obsessive pursuit of cleverness. Everyone desperately chases after knowledge they don't possess while neglecting the wisdom they already understand; they constantly criticize what they dislike while failing to reflect on what they've already accepted. This obsession disrupts cosmic order—from the movements of sun and moon above, to the vital Qi (energy) of mountains and rivers below, and even the seasonal transitions in between—down to the most insignificant insects and plants losing their natural dispositions.

Since the Three Dynasties of Xia, Shang, and Zhou, rulers have abandoned the simple, honest people ("zhongzhong zhi min" refers to those preserving innate purity) in favor of smooth-talking sycophants. They've discarded the tranquil path of Wuwei (non-action) in favor of incessant preaching. These endless, verbose doctrines ("zhunzhun zhi yi") precisely constitute the root of worldly chaos.

The text particularly emphasizes: true wisdom isn't about pursuing novelty, but preserving undivided original nature. Just as the rising tone pronunciation of "zhongzhong" suggests, all things originally exist as one—no artificial distinctions between superior and inferior are needed.