《南華真經新傳》Vol. 17

The chapter "Abdicating Kings" uses the stories of Yao and Shun relinquishing their thrones to expound the core Daoist concept of "governing through non-action" (Wuwei).

To those who have attained the Dao, the imperial throne is but an empty title. The truly wise (zhiren, or "perfected persons") transcend worldly concerns and pay no heed to such power and status. Zhuangzi specifically composed this chapter to illustrate this principle.

Yao wished to abdicate his rule to Xu You, but Xu You refused. He then offered it to Zizhou Zhifu, who replied, "It’s not that I couldn’t serve as emperor, but I’m currently afflicted with melancholy and preoccupied with healing—how could I have time to govern the world?" Though the empire is of great importance, one must not harm life for its sake, let alone lesser external things. Only those who do not treat the empire as something to be grasped are truly fit to rule it.

Shun encountered a similar situation. When he offered the throne to Zizhou Zhibo, the latter likewise declined on the grounds of attending to his health. Though the empire is a treasure, those who follow the Dao (daozhe) never exchange it for life—this is what distinguishes them from ordinary people.

Shun then offered the throne to Shan Juan, who said, "I live between heaven and earth, wearing fur in winter and hemp in summer, plowing in spring and harvesting in autumn. I work at sunrise and rest at sunset, free and content—what use have I for the empire? I grieve that you cannot understand me!" With that, he retreated deep into the mountains, and none knew his whereabouts.

Next, Shun offered the throne to the Farmer of Stone Gate, who remarked, "This Shun—how strenuously he labors!" Considering Shun’s virtue still incomplete, the farmer took his wife and children far overseas, never to return.

Though Yao and Shun were sages, their voluntary abdication ultimately embodied the state of "non-action." When non-action reaches its utmost, it reveals the ineffable. Thus, Yao yielded to Zizhou Zhifu, and Shun yielded to Zizhou Zhibo, Shan Juan, and the Farmer of Stone Gate. These men had attained the realm of the perfected—transcending physical constraints, indifferent to life and death, regarding the body as a burden and honor as disgrace. How, then, could they allow the empire to become a burden upon their spirits?

Zizhou Zhifu, Zizhou Zhibo, Shan Juan, and the Farmer of Shihu all declined to govern the world with various pretexts. Zizhou Zhifu claimed his illness was too severe to take on the responsibility, while Zizhou Zhibo similarly excused himself due to poor health. Shan Juan was content with his simple life, wearing coarse hemp clothes and following the rhythms of sunrise and sunset in carefree contentment. The Farmer of Shihu considered Shun's request to govern too burdensome. In truth, these individuals were all using subtle excuses to refuse—they had no interest in worldly power, viewing the empire as no more valuable than discarded earth. Thus, Shan Juan retreated deep into the mountains, never to return, and the Farmer of Shihu wandered far overseas, all to preserve the genuine joy of unimpeded freedom. This is precisely why Zhuangzi admired them.

When King Tai of Zhou (Danfu) resided in Bin, the Di tribes repeatedly invaded. The king offered them furs, silks, hounds, horses, livestock, pearls, and jade, but the Di refused all these, for what they truly desired was land. King Tai said: "I cannot bear to see elder brothers watch their younger siblings slain, or fathers witness their sons perish. Stay here and live in peace—what difference does it make whether you are my subjects or the Di's? I have heard that one should not harm those they ought to nurture for the sake of material possessions." So he took his staff and left Bin, and the people followed him, young and old, eventually establishing a new kingdom at the foot of Mount Qi. King Tai truly understood the value of life. Those who cherish life will not harm their bodies for wealth and status, nor burden their forms with profit when impoverished. Yet today, those in high positions thoughtlessly sacrifice lives at the sight of gain—is this not utter folly?

King Tai's decision to leave Bin reflects his prudence in matters of advancement and retreat. Heaven endows all people with equal nature and destiny—how can one justify harming life's essence for external things? King Tai comprehended Heaven's intent and dared not gamble with his people's lives by fighting the Di. Thus, he chose to relinquish his kingdom and depart. This was his way of aligning with the Dao of Heaven. Those who unite with the Dao find all things turning to them—hence the people of Bin followed him without hesitation, supporting their elders and carrying their young.

In the state of Yue, three successive generations witnessed regicide. Prince Sou, fearing disaster would befall him, fled to the legendary hermitage of Danxue Mountain. When the Yue people could not find their ruler, they eventually discovered the prince in this mountain retreat. Unwilling to leave, Prince Sou was forced out by the Yue people who smoked him out with mugwort fumes and welcomed him with a jade-adorned royal carriage. Clutching the carriage ropes as he slowly ascended, he gazed skyward and cried: "O throne! O throne! Why must you not leave me be?" It wasn't that he despised rulership, but rather feared the calamities it brought. Such a man as Prince Sou truly understood how power should never harm one's life—precisely why the Yue people sought him as their wise sovereign.

Later, when the states of Han and Wei disputed border territories, the Daoist thinker Zihua Zi visited Marquis Zhaoxi of Han and noticed his troubled countenance. Zihua Zi posed: "If a tablet were placed before you inscribed 'Seize with your left hand and lose your right; seize with your right and lose your left—yet the taker gains all under heaven,' would you grasp it?" The Marquis replied, "I would not." "Excellent!" said Zihua Zi. "Thus we see arms are dearer than the empire, and one's body dearer still. Han is insignificant compared to the world, and those disputed lands are trivial compared to Han. Yet you torment your spirit over this—truly unworthy." The Marquis sighed: "Many have advised me, but none with such wisdom." Here, Zihua Zi demonstrated true understanding of life's priorities.

Territories are but illusory externalities. Fools, ignorant of this truth, maim their lives in their pursuit—this was the root of Yue's three regicides. Only the enlightened recognize that rulership and states warrant no covetous attachment. Thus Prince Sou preserved his life in Danxue's seclusion. Though compelled to assume the throne eventually, his celestial lament revealed it was mere circumstance—such a man may be called a perfected Daoist sage.

When the Duke of Lu heard the recluse Yan He had attained the Dao, he sent envoys with gifts to summon him. Yan He dwelled in a dilapidated alley, clad in coarse cloth while tending oxen. "Is this Yan He's home?" asked the envoy. "It is," came the direct reply. This episode epitomizes the genuine Daoist cultivator's indifference to fame and wealth.

This passage recounts the stories of Yan He and Liezi, illustrating the Daoist attitude toward wealth and the preservation of life.

When Yan He was presented with lavish gifts from the ruler of Lu, he deliberately pretended to have misheard and asked the messenger to return and confirm the offer. Only when the messenger came again did he reluctantly accept. This shows that Yan He was truly averse to wealth and high status. He remained unperturbed by poverty and unmoved by riches—when the ruler of Lu sent him gifts, he paid them no mind and even used the excuse of mishearing to decline. Zhuangzi praises this attitude of not rejoicing over unexpected gains.

The text explains that the true essence of the Dao (the Way) is for cultivating one’s body and mind. What remains may be used to govern a state, and the least refined aspects may be applied to ruling the world. Thus, the achievements of emperors and kings are merely byproducts of the sage’s work, not the foundation for preserving life and nurturing one’s nature. Nowadays, worldly gentlemen often harm their bodies and abandon their lives in pursuit of external things—a truly lamentable state.

An analogy follows: If someone were to use a priceless pearl like the Marquis of Sui’s jewel to shoot down a sparrow high in a tree, the world would surely laugh at them, for the means are too precious and the goal too trivial. Isn’t life itself far more valuable than the Marquis of Sui’s pearl?

Finally, the story of Liezi is told: Living in poverty, Liezi was offered grain by Ziyang, the prime minister of Zheng, who sent a messenger to deliver it. Liezi repeatedly bowed in gratitude but firmly declined. His wife could not understand, but Liezi explained that Ziyang had sent the grain because someone had praised him as a worthy man—but he might just as easily punish him later if slandered. Eventually, Ziyang was executed, and Liezi avoided implication precisely because he had refused the gift. This demonstrates that sages always consider motives and consequences in their actions.

The New Commentary on the Southern Florescence Scripture presents the Daoist concept of "valuing life over material things" through two illustrative stories.

The first story features Liezi, a prominent Daoist figure, refusing a charitable offer. When a well-meaning man, noticing Liezi's gaunt appearance, offered him food, Liezi declined with a smile: "You don't truly understand me—you're offering this because others said I deserve help. Had they said I deserved punishment, you'd equally comply." Later, when political turmoil erupted, this very benefactor was executed by Ziyang. This episode reveals how external generosity often comes with implicit conditions, making spiritual independence preferable.

The second narrative concerns Butcher Yang of Chu, a humble sheep slaughterer. After King Zhao of Chu regained his throne and sought to reward his loyal followers, Butcher Yang declined: "Your Majesty's exile wasn't my fault, nor was the restoration my achievement. Chu's laws mandate rewards only for great merit. I possess neither the talent to save the state nor the courage to die for it—I merely fled misfortune alongside you. Accepting undeserved honors would tarnish your reputation for just governance." When Minister Ziqi offered him high office and wealth, Butcher Yang responded: "Though three noble ranks surpass butchering sheep, and ample stipends outearn slaughtering wages, I'd rather return to my knives than let my ruler be accused of indiscriminate patronage."

The commentary crystallizes the Daoist perspective: Life is fundamental, while material things merely serve its nourishment. The enlightened prioritize life's essence over external possessions, whereas worldly people lose life's core chasing ephemera. Zhuangzi's metaphor of "using the Marquis of Sui's pearl to shoot sparrows" condemns such inversion of priorities—no treasure, however precious, justifies actions that harm life's vitality. Like squandering priceless jewels as slingshot ammunition, misplacing life's true value constitutes fundamental folly.

This passage vividly illustrates the Daoist spiritual realm of finding contentment in poverty through several poignant stories.

Yuan Xian lived in a dilapidated house with broken jars for windows, a leaky roof, and damp floors. When the elegantly dressed Zigong arrived in his carriage to visit, he exclaimed: "How has the master fallen into such dire straits?" Yuan Xian replied: "Lacking wealth is called poverty, but learning the Dao (the Way) without practicing it is called sickness. I am poor, not sick." He then criticized those who conform to worldly trends, form cliques for personal gain, and use scholarship as social ornamentation, declaring he would rather remain pure in poverty than compromise his principles.

When Zengzi lived in the State of Wei, he wore tattered padded robes with a swollen face and calloused hands and feet. His cooking fire often went out, and he wore the same clothes for ten years. His hat strings snapped, his sleeves were torn to the elbows, and his shoes were worn through at the heels. Yet he would shuffle along in these broken shoes singing the "Hymns of Shang" (Shang Song, from the Book of Songs) with a voice so resonant it filled heaven and earth like the clear tones of metal and stone. Emperors couldn't compel him to serve, nor could feudal lords befriend him, for he had attained the state where "those who cultivate aspiration forget form; those who cultivate form forget gain; those who attain the Dao forget worldly concerns."

The text observes that while wealth and honor are universally desired, and poverty and low status universally disliked, these preferences stem from "having worldly concerns" (youxin). Only by reaching the state of "no-mind" (wuxin) can one transcend such attachments—remaining unaffected whether in wealth or poverty, finding inner freedom. Like Yuan Xian and Zengzi, who lived in crumbling homes wearing rags yet never resented their poverty nor neglected their spiritual practice, instead finding joy in playing instruments and singing—this marks the fundamental difference from worldly people.

Yan Hui's story further confirms this. When Confucius asked why he didn't seek office, Yan Hui replied that his fifty acres outside the city provided enough gruel, his ten acres inside provided adequate clothing, and playing the zither while studying the master's teachings brought him complete happiness. Confucius was deeply moved, praising Yan Hui's contented heart. These stories collectively demonstrate how true Dao practitioners transcend material conditions to achieve spiritual liberation.

(Notes: "Jar windows" refers to using broken jars as windowpanes; "shuffling in shoes" describes walking with worn footwear; "Hymns of Shang" are sections from the Book of Songs; "those who attain the Dao forget worldly concerns" describes how Dao seekers transcend mundane attachments.)

This passage presents several stories and perspectives on the Daoist attitude toward life.

The first section explains that those who truly understand contentment are not burdened by material gains, and those with inner fulfillment remain unafraid even when losing external possessions. Confucius studied this principle for a long time and later recognized its embodiment in his disciple Yan Hui, considering this realization his greatest attainment.

Next comes the dialogue between Zhongshan Gongzi Mou (a nobleman of Wei during the Warring States period) and the Daoist figure Zhanzi. Though Gongzi Mou lived as a recluse in the mountains, his mind remained attached to courtly power. Zhanzi advised him: "Those who value life naturally regard material benefits lightly." Gongzi Mou admitted understanding this truth yet being unable to practice it. Zhanzi responded: "If one cannot control desires, it's better to follow their natural course. Forcibly suppressing them causes double harm, making longevity difficult." While Gongzi Mou, as an aristocrat, couldn't fully attain the Daoist ideal, he already possessed the right intention.

The text then cites the example of Yan Hui (Confucius's disciple), who found contentment farming sixty acres of land, declining official positions and finding joy in playing the zither. This state of simple contentment represents the highest realm praised in Daoism, earning Confucius's particular admiration.

Finally, the passage describes Confucius's experience when trapped between Chen and Cai states. Despite seven days without cooked food, surviving only on wild vegetable soup, he continued playing his zither and singing. His disciples Zilu and Zigong couldn't comprehend their master's cheerfulness amid hardship. Confucius explained: "The noble person judges circumstances by whether they understand the Dao, not by external wealth or poverty. Though I uphold the way of benevolence and righteousness amidst chaotic times and hardships, my mind remains unshackled, and I never lose my virtue when facing danger. This constitutes true enlightenment."

When the bitter cold arrives and frost and snow swirl in the air, I finally understand why pine and cypress remain evergreen. Confucius, trapped between the borders of Chen and Cai, was in fact fortunate—there he was, lightly strumming his zither and continuing to sing, while Zilu danced with a shield in hand. Zigong sighed and said, "Now I understand. The ancient ones who attained the Dao (the Way) could remain joyful whether in hardship or prosperity, because their true happiness did not depend on external circumstances. When one’s inner self is united with the Dao, hardship and prosperity become as natural as the turning of the seasons."

Xu You found contentment north of the Ying River, and Gong Bo was at ease on Mount Shouyang. When Shun sought to abdicate the throne to his friend Beiren Wuze, the latter replied, "How strange Shun is! A mere farmer who accepted Yao’s abdication, and now he wishes to taint me with this disgraceful act." With that, he plunged into the cold, clear depths and drowned himself.

The sages fully comprehend "heavenly joy" (the supreme happiness of union with the Dao). Once attained, nothing in the world can disturb it. This is why Confucius could still play his zither and sing while trapped between Chen and Cai. At first, Zilu and Zigong failed to grasp the sage’s state of "joy in heaven and understanding of fate," mistakenly believing their teacher to be shameless. It was only then that Confucius explained to them the true meaning of hardship and prosperity—so-called hardship is not a lack in the study of the Dao, nor is prosperity mere worldly success. To fail in comprehending the Dao is true hardship; to penetrate the great Dao is true prosperity. The sage is never truly "trapped" in the Dao—they merely await the right moment, never barred from the Dao like ordinary people. It is precisely because sages possess this realization that they remain perpetually joyful, undisturbed by gain or loss, honor or disgrace.

Later, when King Tang sought to overthrow the tyrant Jie of Xia, he consulted Bian Sui and Mao Guang in turn. Both replied, "This is not our affair." When Tang asked who could undertake the task, they said, "We do not know." When Tang mentioned Yi Yin, Bian Sui merely remarked, "He can endure humiliation—beyond that, I know nothing." After Tang and Yi Yin succeeded in overthrowing Jie, Tang wished to abdicate the throne to Bian Sui, who firmly declined, saying... (The text abruptly ends here, with the implication that Bian Sui refused the offer of rulership.)

When King Tang of Shang was preparing to attack the tyrant Jie of Xia, someone suggested that I participate in the planning. But doing so would make others see me as a traitor. If, after defeating Jie, Tang were to offer me the throne, people would accuse me of coveting power. Born in an age of chaos, I have repeatedly endured the slander and insults of those without virtue (De). Unable to bear such defamation any longer, I threw myself into the Tong River and drowned.

Later, King Tang sought to abdicate in favor of the virtuous recluse Wu Guang (an ancient hermit), saying, "The wise devise strategies, the brave carry them out, and the benevolent occupy the throne—this has been the way since ancient times. Why do you refuse?" Wu Guang declined, replying, "To depose a ruler is contrary to the Dao (the Way), to kill the people is not benevolence, and for me to reap the rewards while others take the risks is not integrity. I have heard that wealth gained unjustly should not be accepted, and lands ruled without virtue should not be trodden upon—let alone for me to assume high office. I cannot bear to remain here any longer." With that, he tied a stone to his back and drowned himself in the Lu River.

During the rise of the Zhou dynasty, there were two virtuous men in the state of Guzhu—Bo Yi and Shu Qi. They discussed among themselves, "We have heard that in the west, there is someone who seems to have attained the Dao. Let us go and see." When they arrived at Qiyang, King Wu of Zhou, upon hearing of their arrival, sent his brother, the Duke of Zhou, to make a covenant with them: they would be granted two ranks of nobility and appointed to first-class official positions, sealed with a blood oath over a sacrificial animal. The two men exchanged glances and laughed, saying, "How strange! This is not the Dao we seek. In ancient times, when the Divine Farmer (Shennong) ruled the world, he performed seasonal sacrifices to express reverence but did not pray for blessings. He treated the people with loyalty and trust, yet sought nothing in return. He governed in accordance with the people's will, never elevating himself by others' failures, never growing arrogant at others' humility, and never exploiting circumstances for personal gain. But now, the Zhou dynasty, seeing the chaos in Shang, hastens to seize power—those above scheme while those below act. They bribe with wealth, intimidate with force, swear false oaths under the pretense of sincerity, and flaunt their virtue to please the masses, all while profiting through slaughter. This is replacing tyranny with violence!"

Bo Yi and Shu Qi continued, "We have heard that the sages of old did not shirk responsibility in times of order, nor did they cling to life in times of chaos. Now the world is dark, and the virtue of Zhou has decayed. Rather than defile ourselves by joining them, it is better to withdraw and preserve our purity." So they traveled north to Shouyang Mountain, where they eventually starved to death. Men like Bo Yi and Shu Qi would never rely on the chance for wealth and honor, even if it were offered. They held fast to their noble principles, standing apart from the world and finding joy in fulfilling their aspirations. They took no part in worldly affairs—such was the integrity of these two sages.

As for King Tang exiling Jie of Xia or King Wu of Zhou overthrowing King Zhou of Shang, these acts may appear to align with the Mandate of Heaven and the will of the people. Yet true worthies would rather die upholding their principles than compromise their virtue (De) to conform to the times.

Those who conform to the Heavenly Dao (the Way) may be called true knowers of celestial principles, while those who follow the people's will may be considered understanders of human nature. The ability to comprehend the patterns of Heaven's decree and human affairs is precisely what made rulers like Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou become sages.

Figures like Muguang, Bian Sui, Bo Yi and Shu Qi failed to understand the actions of Tang and Wu, instead collectively criticizing them. Unable to bear hearing accounts of dynastic transitions, they ultimately chose death—some by drowning, others by starving on Shouyang Mountain. These men can only be regarded as narrow-minded and incomplete scholars. Those who harm benevolence (Ren) are called "thieves," while those who damage righteousness (Yi) are termed "mutilators." Benevolence and righteousness are concrete manifestations of Dao (the Way) and De (Virtue). When these are mutilated, the Great Dao declines further. Once the Dao declines, humanity's original nature deviates from its proper course. This explains why Tang and Wu had to overthrow tyrants to restore humanity's innate goodness. The aforementioned recluses couldn't comprehend the subtle principles of Heaven, clinging stubbornly to minor details—how could they be considered truly comprehensive scholars?

Zhuangzi composed this passage to illustrate the conduct of the Perfected Person (Zhiren, one who has attained the Dao) and elucidate the profound principle of "non-intentional action" (Wuwei). His argument follows an intrinsic logic: First, he describes how Yao and Shun relinquished rulership without attachment; then recounts how Taibo and Prince Sou escaped the constraints of Bin-Yue's throne; next presents worthy men like Yan He, Liezi, Yuan Xian, Zengzi and Yan Hui who cultivated themselves undisturbed by poverty. Finally, he discusses Confucius' hardship in Chen-Cai and Tang-Wu's overthrow of tyrants—all to reveal the mystery of "non-intentional action."

When Confucius was trapped between Chen and Cai, did he deliberately worry? He still played his zither and sang, maintaining inner peace. When Tang and Wu overthrew tyrants, did they intentionally seek empire? They simply removed cruelty to restore the proper Dao. Zhuangzi grasped the ancients' true meaning, using such narratives to dispel the world's deluded customs.

(Note: The term "non-intentional action" (Wuwei) is a key Daoist concept denoting spontaneous, unforced action; "Perfected Person" (Zhiren) refers to one who has reached the highest state of Dao cultivation; "Bin-Yue" refers to an ancient minor state)