《南華真經循本》Vol. 8

This passage comes from Volume 8 of Nanhua Zhenjing Xunben, containing Luo Miandao's commentary on the Ying Di Wang chapter of the Zhuangzi.

Nie Que consulted Wang Ni with four questions but received no answers. Yet he leaped for joy and ran to inform Puyizi (also known as Piyizi). Puyizi said: "Now do you understand? Emperor Shun of the Youyu clan cannot compare to Emperor Tai (the ancient sovereign Datingshi). Shun used humaneness (De) to win over people's hearts. Though he gained popular support, he never transcended artificial effort. Emperor Tai, however, slept in serene contentment and awoke to carefree ease—he could regard himself as a horse or an ox. His wisdom was genuine and trustworthy, his virtue (De) utterly natural and uncontrived, never entangled in artificial striving."

While Shun employed humaneness to court favor—achieving support yet remaining confined to deliberate action—Emperor Tai followed nature's course, indifferent to names and distinctions. This represents true attainment. He didn't act this way intentionally, hence the description "not fallen into the artificial" (未入于非人).

Later, Jianyu met the madman Jieyu, who asked: "What did Zhongshi (a Chu state worthy) tell you?" Jianyu replied: "He said rulers should personally establish laws and model their conduct as standards—how would people dare disobey such edification?" Jieyu criticized this: "This deceives virtue (De)! Governing thus resembles trying to cross the sea by digging canals, or making mosquitoes carry mountains—utter absurdity."

Imposing regulations to constrain people is like drowning while attempting to ford oceans, digging canals yet failing to succeed, or expecting mosquitoes to bear mountains—fundamentally impossible. The sage governs by first rectifying himself, then following nature's flow, doing only what lies within his capacity.

The passage contrasts two governing approaches: Shun's artificial edification versus Emperor Tai's natural Wuwei (non-action). Through Jieyu's voice, Zhuangzi critiques deliberate regulation-making, advocating instead for governance aligned with natural spontaneity.

Does the sage govern the world merely by managing superficial affairs? In truth, the key lies in preserving people's intrinsic nature. First rectify yourself before acting—simply fulfill your proper duties with steadfast sincerity.

Consider how birds soar high to evade arrows, or how field mice burrow deep beneath sacred mounds to escape smoke and digging. Even these small creatures understand seeking advantage and avoiding harm. If a ruler attempts to forcibly constrain the people with laws and regulations, they will flee and hide just like birds and mice. How can one claim these creatures lack wisdom?

Tian Gen traveled through the lands of Yin and Yang until he reached the Liao River, where he encountered Nameless Man. Boldly, he asked about the art of governing the world. Nameless Man rebuked him: "Begone! You vulgar man, asking such an abrupt question." (Meaning the question was unpleasant.) "I am about to wander with the Creator—when weary, I ride the bird of emptiness, soaring beyond the six extremities, roaming the land of Nothingness, resting in the vast wilderness. Why trouble my heart with matters of governing the world?"

In the end, Nameless Man revealed the true principle: Let your spirit wander in the realm of serenity, harmonize your breath with stillness, follow the natural order of all things without selfish intent, and the world will naturally find peace.

Another story: Yang Ziju visited Laozi (Lao Dan) and described a certain kind of person—one who responds swiftly like an echo, whose will is unyielding, whose insight penetrates all things, and who studies the Dao tirelessly. He asked whether such a person could be compared to an enlightened ruler. Laozi replied that, in the eyes of a sage, such a person is merely toiling like a convict, shackling the mind like a craftsman. Just as tigers and leopards are hunted for their stripes, monkeys are chained for their agility, and hounds are restrained for their skill—how could such a person be called an enlightened ruler?

Laozi (Lao Dan) sat upright and solemnly answered the question about enlightened rulership: A truly sage king governs the world in such a way that his achievements cover all things yet seem unrelated to himself; he nurtures and educates all beings without the people feeling dependent. This kind of influence is like lending to all things without seeking repayment—the people neither feel the ruler's benevolence nor can they name his specific accomplishments.

He allows all things to grow naturally while abiding in a realm beyond ordinary comprehension, wandering in the void. This is illustrated by the story of Ji Xian, a diviner from Zheng who could predict life, death, and fortune with uncanny accuracy down to the day. The people of Zheng would flee at the sight of him. Yet Liezi (Lie Yukou) became fascinated by his arts and reported to his teacher Huzi: "I thought your Dao was supreme, but now I see there are higher methods." Huzi replied: "What I've taught you is merely superficial—you haven't touched the substance. How dare you claim to have attained the Dao? It's like having a hen without a rooster: how could eggs be hatched?"

Later, Huzi instructed Liezi to bring Ji Xian for a reading. After observing him, Ji Xian declared: "Your master will die soon—he won't last ten days." When Liezi tearfully relayed this, Huzi explained: "I was showing him the 'Earthly Pattern' state—the stillness of sprouting vegetation, where he could only perceive my sealed vitality. Bring him again another day."

Here, the earth metaphor represents cultivation states: just as plants grow naturally without external force, mirroring the limpid heaven-and-earth imagery described in the Scripture on Salvation. Through progressively revealing different states of being, Huzi ultimately made Ji Xian understand that true Daoist practice far surpasses divination techniques.

This passage recounts a dialogue between Liezi (a prominent Daoist figure) and Huzi (an accomplished Daoist master) concerning the art of physiognomy (observing Qi fluctuations to discern fortune or misfortune).

When the physiognomist Jixian first met Huzi, the master displayed the state of "blocked De (Virtue) mechanism" — completely sealing internal Qi without external manifestation. Unable to detect any signs, Jixian could only tell Liezi how fortunate his teacher was to meet him. Huzi explained this as demonstrating the "Heaven-Earth" realm where external fame and gain cannot disturb the inner mind, with Qi naturally arising from the soles of the feet — an auspicious sign.

The next day, Huzi revealed the state of "blocked potential" — containing subtle transformations within stillness. Jixian sensed something slightly different from the previous observation. Huzi described this as balancing between "Earth's pattern" (earth-like tranquility) and "Heaven's expanse" (sky-like fluidity).

On the third day, Huzi manifested the realm of "Supreme Harmony without extremes" — the highest state of equilibrium between movement and stillness. Completely baffled, Jixian requested Liezi to return after purification rituals. Huzi explained this as "balanced Qi mechanism," like deep waters containing both stillness and flow, achieving perfect harmony.

Through the physiognomist's three contrasting responses, this passage illustrates three progressive stages of Daoist cultivation: from self-containment to dynamic flexibility, ultimately reaching the balanced unity of movement and stillness. It embodies the Daoist wisdom of "harmonizing radiance with the dust of the world" in spiritual practice.

This passage elucidates several types of "abyss" (yuan) and their symbolic representations of spiritual cultivation states. First mentioned is the "abyss of still water," symbolizing the practitioner's complete stillness and immobility, as steady as the earth itself. Next is the "abyss where the giant salamander dwells," where the surface appears calm yet reveals subtle movement of the creature, representing stillness containing faint motion. Finally, the "abyss of flowing water," half-moving and half-still, embodies the "Taichong" (Great Equilibrium) state of yin-yang balance.

The text references the Liezi and Huainanzi which mention nine names for abysses, yet here only three are listed as metaphors for spiritual cultivation. The author suggests that if even these three states prove difficult to comprehend, deeper realms would naturally remain beyond understanding.

The subsequent section recounts the story of Huzi (a Daoist adept) demonstrating spiritual states to Liezi. Huzi explains that what he manifested was the "never departing from my ancestral source" state—responding to all things through emptiness and stillness, like water's natural undulations. This unfathomable display ultimately caused the observer to flee in awe. Here, "my ancestral source" refers to the "Great Ancestral Teacher" (the origin of Dao), indicating that practitioners maintaining complete emptiness can unite with the Dao.

"Following serpentine curves" (wei yi) denotes compliance with nature's flow; "yielding like a younger brother" (di mi) illustrates submission akin to a junior sibling; "wave-like movement" (bo liu) describes natural water undulations—all portraying the practitioner's harmonious unity with Dao. Though ever-changing, these states never depart from the fundamental source of Dao.

This passage elucidates the Daoist philosophy of "ultimate emptiness" (zhixu) and its approach to life. It begins with the story of Liezi demonstrating the state of returning to original simplicity: after three years of cultivation, Liezi completely relinquished worldly discrimination, serving meals to pigs as naturally as he would to people, eliminating artificial embellishments to return to primal simplicity while maintaining an independent and transcendent stance.

The text then expounds on the mindset of the "perfected person" (zhiren, one who has attained the Dao): one must abandon the entanglements of reputation, schemes, affairs, and cleverness, allowing the mind to become as clear as a mirror. When a mirror reflects objects, it neither actively welcomes nor retains them; it truthfully reflects without holding onto images, thus capable of responding to all things without suffering harm.

Finally, the parable of "Hundun" (Primordial Chaos) illustrates the natural Dao: the Emperor of the Southern Sea (Shu) and the Emperor of the Northern Sea (Hu), wishing to repay the kindness of the Emperor of the Central Region (Hundun), forcibly carved sensory orifices into Hundun, who originally lacked them. Seven days later, Hundun died. This serves as a warning that artificial interference destroys innate nature.

The entire passage revolves around the theme of the chapter "Ying Di Wang" (The Responsive Ruler), using stories like Huizi revealing himself to Jixian to illustrate that rulers should conform to nature, maintain emptiness and stillness, and respond to the world with mirror-like clarity, avoiding the destruction of heaven and earth's inherent harmony through artificial cleverness. The seven chapters of the "Inner Chapters" are tightly structured, each first establishing its title before unfolding its discourse.