《通玄真經纘義》Vol. 9

In the ninth volume of The Scripture of Penetrating the Mysteries (Tongxuan Zhenjing), Master Nangu Du Daojian expounds on the concept of "lower virtue" (Xiade), discussing essential principles for self-cultivation and governing the state.

Regarding personal cultivation, the highest method is to nurture the spirit (Shen, one's innate divine energy), while caring for the physical body is secondary. When the spirit is tranquil and the mind at peace, all joints of the body remain harmonious—this is the root of nurturing life. Merely pursuing plump skin, a full stomach, or indulging desires are but superficial aspects of health preservation.

The same applies to governing a state. The superior method is moral transformation (educating through virtue), while establishing strict laws is secondary. If the people practice humility, willingly take lower positions, compete to take less when facing wealth, and strive to bear hardships in labor, society naturally progresses toward goodness. People may not even understand why this happens—this is the foundation of governance. If rewards are used to encourage good deeds and punishments to deter evil, though laws are established above and obeyed below, this remains a lesser method of governance. Ancient times emphasized the root, while later generations fixated on the branches.

Laozi said that truly capable rulers are rare, and virtuous ministers assisting in governance are even scarcer—one in ten thousand. Seeking such rare ministers for even rarer rulers explains why golden ages of peace appear only once in millennia. Even the achievements of hegemons do not emerge in every era. The key lies in following the people’s innate goodness, preventing the rise of wicked thoughts, and adhering to the same moral principles as them—only then can customs remain pure and virtuous.

The value of sages does not lie in their ability to prescribe punishments for crimes but in their understanding of the root causes of chaos. If greed is indulged, allowing people to wallow in excess before restraining them with laws and punishing them, even harming the populace will not stop wickedness.

The meeting of enlightened rulers and virtuous ministers is a once-in-a-thousand-years event. Enlightened rulers are few, and virtuous ministers even rarer. Examples like Emperor Yao and Shun gaining wise ministers, King Tang obtaining Yi Yin, or King Wen of Zhou securing Lü Shang (Jiang Ziya) are exceedingly uncommon in history. Even Duke Huan of Qi finding a capable minister like Guan Zhong does not occur in every era. Hence, golden ages grow scarcer while chaotic times multiply—perhaps because noble individuals dwindle while petty ones abound.

Laozi also remarked that if a recluse dwelling by rivers and lakes still covets the court’s splendor, this is an excessive attachment to life. Overvaluing life leads to undervaluing true benefit. If such a mindset cannot be overcome, it is better to follow natural spontaneity (Ziran), so the spirit remains unharmed. If one fails to overcome it yet forcibly suppresses it, this is called "double harm"—such a person will not live long.

The Tongxuan Zhenjing (Scripture of Pervading Mystery) expounds the fundamental principles for human conduct. To understand harmony is to comprehend the constant Dao; to comprehend the constant Dao is wisdom; what benefits life is auspicious; guiding Qi (vital energy) with focused intent constitutes strength—this is the attainment of "mysterious unity" (the state of merging with the Dao). By wielding the radiance of wisdom, one ultimately returns to the innate luminosity of the heart.

Whether serving in office or living in seclusion, the essence of the Dao remains unchanged. Though the body may retreat to rivers and lakes, the mind may still linger at court; even while tilling fields, one does not forget the world. Thus, those who embody the Dao adhere to this principle whether withdrawing or engaging—stopping when appropriate, acting when necessary. This is the realm of "mysterious unity."

Laozi said: Under heaven, the easiest act is doing good, the hardest is committing evil. Doing good is easy because it arises from serene Wuwei (non-action), following nature's course, resisting temptation, and preserving innate purity. Committing evil is difficult because acts like usurping thrones, regicide, arrogance, and debauchery violate human nature. Today, humanity's great affliction lies in insatiable greed and ignorance of moderation. Hence, one must discern with utmost clarity the interplay of gain and loss, calamity and fortune.

Sages harbor no cravings nor deliberately avoid them. Often, the more one seeks to obtain, the more one loses; the more one flees, the more one encounters. Once desire takes root, one forgets their fundamental duty. Therefore, sages assess circumstances, calibrate the measure of giving, regulate emotions of love and aversion, and temper expressions of joy and anger. When movement and stillness align, calamity cannot intrude; when giving is measured, guilt cannot entangle; when preferences are ordered, worry cannot approach; when emotions are harmonized, resentment cannot offend.

Though good and evil manifest differently, both originate from the heart. Doing good is easy; committing evil is hard. Fortune and misfortune resemble steps—one cannot force outcomes. The more one grasps, the more slips away; the more one evades, the more confronts. Thus, sages evaluate timing, balance emotions, and act with propriety, remaining naturally free of distress and grievance.

Those who embody the great Dao neither covet what they should not possess nor shirk the misfortunes they ought to bear. What is not theirs, they do not forcibly seek; what is theirs, they do not refuse. Ever full yet never overflowing, embracing emptiness finds contentment easily. By the Dao's standard, food and clothing suffice to meet the needs of a seven-foot frame. Without this standard, even imperial power brings no joy, nor does possessing the world's wealth satisfy. Therefore, sages dwell in inner tranquility, their Shen (spirit) guarded within, undisturbed by external temptations.

Those who truly comprehend the Dao follow natural laws and remain content with their inherent nature. They eat merely to satisfy hunger, dress simply to ward off cold, neither coveting what exceeds their needs nor lightly discarding what they possess. When calamity comes, they accept it calmly; when fortune arrives, they don't pursue it deliberately. In prosperity they remain humble, in poverty they maintain integrity, preserving their innate simplicity to eternally coexist with the Dao.

Laozi said: To conquer others shows strength, but to conquer oneself reveals true power. The truly powerful understand leveraging others' strength, and those who can employ people must first win their hearts. To win hearts requires self-knowledge—never has one seen those who truly know themselves lose people's hearts, nor those who've lost themselves gain genuine allegiance. Thus governing a nation begins with stabilizing its people; stabilizing people depends on sufficient resources; sufficient resources require timely agriculture; timely agriculture necessitates reduced corvée labor; reducing labor stems from frugality; frugality's root lies in abandoning extravagance; abandoning extravagance originates from maintaining a tranquil and detached mind.

Those who truly understand life's essence don't pursue what life doesn't require; those who grasp destiny's nature don't force what lies beyond comprehension. When eyes crave colors, mouths chase flavors, ears indulge in music—when the seven senses compete—human nature suffers harm. Indulging desires depletes qi (vital energy); if one cannot even regulate their own body, how could they govern the world?

To surpass others, first master yourself. Never has one seen those who cannot govern themselves surpassing others. Conquering others relies on force—desires overwhelming reason; conquering oneself demonstrates true strength—reason restraining desires. Persuading through principle wins hearts, and people naturally serve you; coercing through force may command obedience, but hearts will scatter. The difference between heavenly principle and human desire lies in this fine distinction.

What's called "gaining the world" doesn't mean ascending to high position or possessing grand titles, but rather uniting people's hearts and gathering the world's strength. Having a ruler's title without genuine allegiance constitutes true loss of the world. Thus tyrants like Jie of Xia and Zhou of Shang held thrones but didn't deserve kingship, while Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou, though deposing rulers, weren't usurpers. When the Son of Heaven follows the Dao, borders naturally stabilize; when he loses the Dao, calamity arises from neighboring lords. When feudal lords follow the Dao, territories remain secure; when they lose the Dao, crisis emerges from close ministers. Therefore: Don't expect others not to seize, but rely on your own unseizable foundation. If conduct itself contains vulnerabilities inviting seizure, even without overt rebellion, one ultimately cannot preserve the world.

This scripture primarily expounds on the principles of governing a state and cultivating the self. Laozi states that those skilled in statecraft do not arbitrarily alter established systems and conventions. Anger violates De (Virtue), weapons are ominous instruments, and contention breeds chaos. To govern disorder through schemes that defy De, or through fondness for wielding deadly weapons, represents the most severe inversion of proper order. Rather than creating calamities in this manner, one should sheathe sharp edges and resolve conflicts—radiating gentleness like light, remaining humble as dust.

Human nature inherently desires superiority over others while resenting those perceived as inferior. This mentality sparks contention and resentment, leading to inner turmoil and disrupted Qi flow. Ancient sage-kings eliminated such competitive hatred, bringing peace to people's hearts and harmony to their vital energies. Hence the saying: "Not exalting the worthy prevents the people from contention."

Contention yields less benefit than yielding gracefully—a practice advantageous to both self and others. Anger violates De, weapons bring misfortune, and contention creates chaos. Wenzi (a Daoist figure) once advised Fan Li (advisor to the Yue state) using this principle when Yue contemplated attacking Wu. Fan Li cited this wisdom to dissuade the campaign, but King Goujian of Yue refused to listen, suffering disastrous defeat at the Battle of Fujiao. This demonstrates how those intending harm ultimately harm themselves. Would true sages act otherwise?

Laozi further explains: Governing affairs relies not on the affairs themselves, but on harmony; achieving harmony depends not on harmony itself, but on people; guiding people requires not people themselves, but the ruler; rectifying the ruler stems not from the ruler, but from desires; controlling desires originates not in desires, but in one's innate nature; cultivating nature springs not from nature itself, but from De; nurturing De derives not from De alone, but from the Dao.

Those who root themselves in the Dao remain free from corruption. Yet prolonged immersion in external matters makes one forget their true nature, becoming severed from it. External elements like clothing, food, and rituals do not constitute human nature. Our original nature is peaceful, but it becomes damaged by cravings. Only those who attain the Dao transcend material attachments and return to authenticity. Those capable of self-reflection never violate the nature of things; those lacking introspection become confused with every action. Indulging desires severs one from intrinsic nature, making proper conduct impossible. Applying this mindset to self-cultivation harms the body; applying it to governance brings calamity upon the people. Therefore, those who do not understand the Dao cannot return to their fundamental nature.

Human nature and desires are inherently distinct—this is common to all people, but particularly evident in rulers. Governing all things does not lie in controlling the things themselves, but in grasping the Dao of harmony. One must first understand one's own intrinsic nature before comprehending the nature of all beings. Understanding the nature of all things enables one to assist heaven and earth in nurturing creation, thereby standing as an equal with the cosmos.

The ancient sages could master their own nature, hence they achieved perfect command and prohibition. Those who undertake any task must first calm their hearts and stabilize their Qi—only when the spirit is clear can things be perceived correctly. If the ears are confused by praise and blame, or the eyes dazzled by sensory stimuli, it becomes difficult to act rightly. Therefore, we must value emptiness and stillness—just as water ripples when disturbed, so too does Qi become disordered and the spirit grow dim. A dimmed wisdom cannot discern right from wrong, just as turbulent waters cannot reflect truth. Thus, enlightened rulers hold fast to the "One" (the Dao) to harmonize the nature of all things. The "One" is most precious, peerless under heaven. The sage-kings abide in the realm of perfect adaptability, thereby mastering the world.

Ancient seekers of wisdom cultivated themselves first, establishing their own foundation before establishing others. The sages, having mastered their own nature, maintained inner clarity, allowing their wisdom to illuminate distant realms. Understanding the nature of all beings, their governance could extend throughout the world.

Laozi said: The Yin and Yang energies transform all things, yet all are born from the "One Qi." When rulers and subjects are estranged, turbid Qi rises; when sovereign and ministers are at odds, the harvest fails. Killing frosts in spring, lush growth in autumn, winter thunder, and summer frost—these are all perverse manifestations of disrupted Yin-Yang. The space between heaven and earth resembles a single body; the six directions of the cosmos mirror a single form. Thus, those who understand their nature cannot be coerced by heaven and earth; those who comprehend cosmic correspondences remain unshaken by anomalies. Sages perceive the distant through the near, viewing all diversity as one. When Yin-Yang Qi fills heaven and earth, yet lacks the guidance of ritual, righteousness, integrity, and shame, people will harm one another. Tyranny arises from primal chaos. When integrity and shame decline and the world decays, desires multiply while resources dwindle—labor becomes arduous yet sustenance insufficient, breeding poverty and strife. Therefore, we must value humaneness (Ren). When people despise one another, form factions, and harbor cunning deceit, we must uphold righteousness (Yi). When men and women mingle without distinction, we must emphasize ritual (Li). When innate nature is disordered by desires and mutual coercion disrupts harmony, we must treasure ritual and music (Yue). Thus, humaneness, righteousness, ritual, and music are remedies for social ills—not the fundamental way of governance.

Heaven and earth form one body; all under heaven shares one Qi. Through the transformations of Yin and Yang, the ten thousand things are nourished.

All things in the world are generated from the same primordial Qi (the fundamental energy that constitutes the universe in Daoist thought), therefore the sage regards all people with the same care as one would a single family. In this way, peace and harmony naturally prevail under heaven. If rulers impose excessive taxes while resources remain insufficient, and the people labor tirelessly yet struggle to sustain their livelihoods, it will lead to widespread poverty and suffering. This breeds resentment and conflict—such methods are not the correct way to govern the world.

If the hearts and Shen (spirit) of all under heaven can be settled, returning to their original state of pristine purity, the people will naturally restore their innate goodness. When the people are virtuous, the Yin-Yang (the two complementary forces of the universe) of heaven and earth will embrace and nourish them. With abundant resources and prosperous lives, thoughts of greed, pettiness, and contention will not arise. In such times, there will be no need to deliberately promote benevolence and righteousness—De (Virtue) will naturally establish itself in the world, and people will not indulge in superficial pleasures.

It is only after the decline of Dao and De that benevolence and righteousness must be emphasized; only after harmony is lost that rituals and music must be stressed; only after one's true nature is obscured that outward appearances must be adorned. Thus, those who understand the true meaning of Dao and De know that benevolence and righteousness alone are insufficient; those who grasp the essence of benevolence and righteousness know that rituals and music alone cannot suffice.

The sage teaches the people through sincerity, helping them return to their original virtuous nature. When the people's nature is virtuous, the Yin-Yang of heaven and earth will protect them. With ample resources and prosperous lives, greed does not arise, and conflicts naturally cease. At such times, external standards of beneancence and righteousness become unnecessary—De will manifest naturally in the world.

Laozi said: The way of governing through clarity, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action) lies in maintaining an attitude of harmony and adaptability, with a heart simple and pure, tranquil and unhurried. Inwardly aligned with the Dao of heaven, outwardly conforming to righteous principles. Speech concise yet reasonable, actions joyful yet in accord with human sentiment, the mind balanced and free from pretense, conduct plain and unadorned. Without deliberate planning at the beginning, nor discussion of final outcomes—remaining where there is stability, acting when inspired. The entire being communicates with heaven and earth; the Jing (essence) and Qi harmonize with Yin-Yang. Balanced as the turning of the four seasons, luminous as the movement of sun and moon. Those who merge with the Great Dao harbor no cunning or deceit in their hearts. Thus heaven nurtures all things with De, earth supports all beings with joy, the four seasons proceed in order, wind and rain nourish in moderation, sun and moon shine with serene radiance, and the five planets (Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars, and Saturn) move in their proper courses—all these are the luminous manifestations of clarity, stillness, and Wuwei.

Heaven endures through its clarity; earth abides through its tranquility. The sage emulates heaven and earth, governing the world through clarity, stillness, and Wuwei. With inner purity, one aligns with the Dao of heaven; with bodily calm, one harmonizes with others. Thus, there is no need to step beyond one's door to accomplish transformation.

Laozi said: In times of great peace, official duties are easily fulfilled, governance is easily administered, rituals are easily practiced, and responsibilities are easily discharged. Therefore, people need not hold multiple offices, nor should officials oversee numerous tasks.

The Tongxuan Zhenjing Zuanyi passage primarily discusses the wisdom of social division of labor, governance principles, and talent utilization.

In ancient societies, farmers, scholars, craftsmen, and merchants each possessed specialized skills: farmers exchanged agricultural knowledge, scholars discussed moral cultivation, craftsmen shared technical know-how, and merchants conversed about business strategies. This specialization allowed each profession to excel—farmers didn't neglect their fields, craftsmen avoided shoddy workmanship, and merchants prevented financial losses. When everyone fulfilled their proper roles, different occupations could coexist harmoniously despite their differences.

Ancient officials who specialized in specific duties found governance straightforward. Later, the practice of holding multiple concurrent positions led to bureaucratic bloat and confused policies. While visionary talents are undoubtedly valuable, enlightened rulers don't impose unrealistic standards on common people. Though eloquent wisdom is impressive, wise monarchs don't use it as the sole selection criterion. The Dao of governance lies in adopting standards suitable for the majority, not pursuing exceptional individual performance.

Decadent regimes often establish three oppressive measures: unattainable standards (punishing those who fail), impossible workloads (penalizing incomplete tasks), and excessive risks (executing those who dare attempt them). When people are cornered by these three tyrannies, they resort to cunning deception and desperate actions. Just as cornered beasts will gore and trapped birds will peck, desperate men turn to fraud when pushed beyond endurance.

Laozi said: The thunder's roar can be mimicked by bells and drums, the patterns of wind and rain understood through musical tones. All visible phenomena can be measured, audible sounds modulated, and discernible colors differentiated. This metaphor illustrates that governance requires grasping fundamental natural patterns and applying appropriate methods.

This scripture primarily expounds on the way of life and governance philosophy of Daoist "Perfected Persons" (those who have attained the highest realm of moral cultivation).

Though Heaven and Earth are vast, they cannot fully encompass the realm of the Perfected; though divine spirits (Shen) are subtle, they cannot completely comprehend the wisdom of the Perfected. When humans began creating calendars, distinguishing colors, and differentiating flavors, the original state of pristine simplicity was disrupted. Establishing benevolence and righteousness, instituting rituals and music—these transformed innate Virtue (De) into artificial pretense. When the clever deceive the simple and schemes are employed against superiors, such a society may persist in form but cannot be truly governed. The more wisdom is employed, the more Virtue declines. Therefore, the Perfected preserve their original simplicity without dispersion.

Sages observe the patterns of Heaven and Earth, imitating natural phenomena to create instruments—forging bells and drums from thunder's resonance, composing music from wind's cadence. Yet regarding Heaven's vastness and the spirits' subtlety, they ultimately cannot grasp them completely. Only the Perfected, preserving their innate simplicity, can become teachers for all ages.

When governing the world, the Perfected maintain emptiness and stillness—free from desire, with tranquil spirits (Shen) and bodies harmonized with innate nature. In stillness, they embody the Dao (the Way); in movement, they comprehend principles, following natural patterns. Through non-action (Wuwei), the world naturally achieves harmony; through detachment, people return to simplicity. By not contending for goods, they find abundance; givers claim no merit, receivers offer no refusal—thus Virtue naturally returns. This state resembles the "Celestial Treasury"—inexhaustible in use, its origins unknowable—called the "Nourishing Light" (symbolizing the life-giving power of the Big Dipper's handle).

The North Star (Polaris) symbolizes the Heavenly Emperor, resting at the celestial center while all stars revolve around it. The Perfected emulate this governance—their spirits tranquil, ruling through non-action. The Nourishing Light resides in the Dipper's handle, sustaining all things as it follows heaven's rotation. Emperor Shun observed the jade astronomical instruments to regulate the seven celestial bodies (sun, moon and five planets), demonstrating true understanding of heavenly principles.

Heaven treasures its essence (sun, moon, stars, wind and thunder); Earth treasures its balance (the Five Phases); humans treasure their innate nature (thought, perception, emotions). By closing the four gates (eyes, ears, mouth, nose) and rectifying the five paths (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faith), one unites with the Dao—divine spirits concealed in formlessness, vital essence (Jing-Qi) returning to its origin.

The eyes are bright yet not fixated on seeing, the ears are keen yet not attached to listening, the mouth can speak yet not insistent on words, the mind is penetrating yet not clinging to thought. Release subjective consciousness without deliberate action, know the truth yet remain free from pride. Those who follow the authentic state of life—their wisdom remains unharmed. When essence (Jing) gathers in the eyes, they discern the finest details; when it concentrates in the ears, they perceive the subtlest sounds; when it resides in the mouth, speech becomes appropriate; when it accumulates in the heart, thought flows unobstructed. Thus, by closing the four gates of desire (eyes, ears, mouth, and heart), one remains free from calamity throughout life, with the limbs and nine orifices maintaining their natural state—neither arising nor perishing. Such is the true embodiment of the Dao (the Way).

The earth nurtures all things, rooted in the workings of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). When sages harmonize these phases, governance becomes orderly and free from chaos. The five innate human natures correspond to the five celestial stars and the earthly Five Phases. When these five natures stir, they give rise to seven emotions—how could practitioners not carefully nurture them? The original spirit (Shen) dwells in the heart, the original essence (Jing) is stored in the kidneys, the ethereal soul resides in the liver, the corporeal soul rests in the lungs, and consciousness exists in the spleen. The highest spiritual state transcends form—neither born nor perishing—this is the true attainment of the Dao.

Laozi said: The balance beam treats both sides without bias, thus achieving fairness; the inked string measures without partiality, thus serving as a standard. When rulers enforce laws without personal preference, authority is established. True virtue (De) requires no deliberate display, leaving no room for resentment—this is governance aligned with the Dao and in harmony with human nature. Thus, those skilled in ruling do not impose their cleverness upon others. When swift currents capsize boats or wood strikes and breaks axles, people do not blame the wood or stones but fault the skill of the navigator or driver—this shows that misapplied wisdom brings harm. When the Dao is mixed with cunning, chaos arises; when virtue carries scheming, danger follows; when the mind clings to appearances, confusion sets in. Like the balance, compass, and square—once established as standards, they remain constant, operating flawlessly without deviation. This principle of non-action (Wuwei) has been employed by rulers throughout the ages, passed down unchanged for eternity.

When people harbor selfishness, none fail to harm the Dao. Rulers without personal desires ensure unified laws and unimpeded governance. Thus, know this: virtue deliberately displayed becomes perilous; the mind fixated on appearances leads to delusion. Understanding that the standards of balance and measure endure eternally reveals the realm of "guarding the One"—seemingly inactive yet profoundly effective. This is the governing principle used by rulers across generations, transmitted through the ages.

Laozi said: It is often said, "A state may have rulers who perish, but the Dao in the world never perishes." People may face hardship, but the truth remains ever accessible. Non-action (Wuwei) is the root of the Dao—grasping this root enables one to respond to infinite changes. Thus, those who disregard objective principles and rely solely on personal talent are doomed to fail.

This scripture expounds the principles of governance and self-cultivation. A ruler need not personally attend to every matter; by observing phenomena one comprehends natural laws, and by relying on others one understands human nature. When people unite their strength, no task remains unaccomplished; when wisdom is pooled, no difficulty remains insurmountable. Just as a thousand-strong army never lacks provisions, and a multitude of ten thousand never wastes labor—artisans master specialized skills, officials fulfill distinct duties without interference, each person realizes their potential, and every resource finds proper use—thus tools remain undamaged and work never slackens.

Fewer debts are easier to repay, clearly defined responsibilities are easier to uphold, and lighter tasks are easier to complete. When the ruler grasps crucial decisions while ministers handle specific affairs, harmony prevails between sovereign and subjects. Heaven and earth do not exist spontaneously—they have a creator (referring to the Dao). Just as the Xia dynasty fell because Jie of Xia failed to employ the worthy Yi Yin, while Tang of Shang flourished by entrusting him with responsibility.

Laozi said: Emperors emulate the Supreme Unity (cosmic origin), feudal lords model themselves on Yin-Yang, hegemonic rulers follow the rhythms of the four seasons, while ordinary monarchs apply the six musical pitch standards. Those who emulate the Supreme Unity comprehend celestial and terrestrial patterns, perfect their Dao and De (Virtue/Power), possess luminous wisdom like sun and moon, connect their Shen (spirit) with all beings, align movement and stillness with Yin-Yang, and harmonize emotions with seasonal transitions. Their beneficence spreads widely, even the smallest creatures receive their virtue, and their illustrious names endure through ages.

Those who model themselves on Yin-Yang embody cosmic harmony, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with heaven and earth in virtue, shining with solar and lunar radiance, communing with spirits and deities. They crown themselves with heaven and tread upon earth, cultivating themselves inwardly while winning popular support outwardly—their commands resonate throughout the realm. Followers of seasonal rhythms understand spring's birth, summer's growth, autumn's harvest and winter's storage—moderating gains and losses, balancing firmness and gentleness, tempering severity with mercy, nurturing all beings through yielding methods, embracing both dullards and the unworthy without partiality. Practitioners of the six pitch standards master the measures of life and death, reward and punishment, giving and taking—beyond these no other way exists: they must suppress violent revolts, prohibit cruelty, and promote the worthy.

This scripture primarily discusses the art of statecraft and military strategy, emphasizing the power of virtue (De) over brute force in governance.

The text begins by asserting that governing a state must follow natural laws: removing unworthy officials, correcting errors, removing obstructions, and guiding the people according to contemporary circumstances. A sovereign who disregards the Dao of Yin-Yang will decline; feudal lords who ignore the rhythms of the four seasons will weaken; hegemons who fail to apply the Six Pitch Standards (ancient musical theory used here as metaphor for governance principles) will be humiliated; and rulers who abandon fundamental norms will be overthrown. Small states forcing grand ambitions will face hardship, while large nations acting petty will become constrained.

It then explains the hierarchy of rulers: the most exalted is the "August Ruler" (Huang), followed by the "Thearch" (Di - who loses the Dao but maintains virtue), the "King" (Wang - who loses virtue but maintains benevolence), the "Hegemon" (Ba - who loses benevolence but maintains righteousness), and the "Lord" (Jun - who loses righteousness but maintains ritual). When great principles are established, lesser matters naturally follow; focusing solely on minor affairs causes the loss of fundamental truths.

Laozi states: Vast territory and numerous population don't constitute true strength; sophisticated weapons aren't reliable defenses; high walls and deep moats don't guarantee safety; harsh punishments can't establish authority. Small states practicing benevolent governance will endure, while mighty nations employing tyranny will perish. Those skilled in defense need no resistance; masters of warfare require no direct confrontation - they conquer by aligning with circumstances and fulfilling the people's aspirations.

True statesmen accumulate virtue (De), while skilled strategists store up vital energy (Qi). Profound virtue mobilizes the populace; abundant Qi establishes authority. Governance through virtuous transformation penetrates hearts; rule through authority influences broadly. Thus when one's side grows strong while weakening opponents beforehand, military campaigns achieve maximum results with minimal effort.

A small state of a thousand chariots practicing virtuous governance may become kingly, while a mighty nation of ten thousand chariots addicted to war will perish. Wise armies first secure conditions for victory before engaging; doomed armies fight first and seek victory later - this reveals ignorance of the Dao. Virtuous rulers, though small, will endure; warmongers, though great, will fall.

Those truly understanding statecraft accumulate virtue; genuine masters of warfare store up Qi. They recognize military action's true purpose is ending conflict, not creating it - thus the people remain unharmed and the nation endures.