《太上感應篇》Vol. 19

The nineteenth volume of the Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise of the Exalted One on Response and Retribution) records two karmic tales concerning wealth.

The first story recounts the deeds of Li Yue, a Tang dynasty official. While traveling by boat, he encountered a gravely ill foreign merchant from the Western Regions. On his deathbed, the merchant entrusted Li Yue with a luminous pearl (a rare and precious jewel) and the care of his two daughters. After the merchant’s passing, others aboard the ship sought to plunder the wealth, but Li Yue meticulously inventoried all possessions and submitted them to the authorities. He also arranged a suitable marriage for one of the daughters. Most remarkably, he placed the luminous pearl in the deceased’s mouth before burial. When the merchant’s relatives later came to settle the estate, they found the pearl untouched. Li Yue’s integrity earned widespread admiration.

The second tale involves Wei Zidu, who encountered a scholar suffering a sudden heart attack. After the scholar’s death, Wei used two gold ingots from the deceased’s belongings to cover funeral expenses, while the remaining eight ingots and a scroll were buried intact with the body. Years later, when the scholar’s family came to claim the possessions, they found everything undisturbed, and Wei’s reputation soared as a result.

These exemplary cases stand in stark contrast to cautionary tales of retribution. For instance, Xu Hui, a merchant from Yongjia, borrowed over a thousand strings of coins from a wealthy merchant of Danyang. When the creditor died, Xu deliberately concealed the debt and refused repayment. Later, he fathered a brilliant son who, at the age of eight, suddenly fell gravely ill, draining the family’s wealth. On his deathbed, the child revealed that he was in fact the reincarnation of the Danyang merchant, sent to reclaim the debt. This tale of karmic retribution illustrates how greed—hoarding others’ wealth or wishing for their demise to evade repayment—inevitably invites misfortune.

There was also a man named Bai Yuantong who once owed Yang Jun, a merchant in the eastern market, five strings and four hundred cash. He never repaid the debt. Later, Yang Jun died suddenly, and Bai Yuantong forgot all about it. After his own death, he was reborn into Yang Jun’s household as a donkey.

One day, Yang Jun’s son rode the donkey into the city. Suddenly, it spoke: “I am Bai Yuantong. It was only because I owed your father five strings and four hundred cash that I ended up in this state. Now a family in the southern market that sells bran owes me the same amount. Hurry and sell me to them, then use the money to repay your family’s debt. That will settle the matter.” Yang Jun’s son did as it said. Two days later, the donkey died.

If someone owes another person money, can the debt really be settled simply by hoping the creditor dies?

Commentary:

To repay a kindness, Wu Zixu, a minister of the state of Wu during the Spring and Autumn period, once gave gold to a woman at a ferry crossing. Jizha, a prince of the state of Wu in the same period, promised to give away his sword and later hung it on a tree by the grave of a friend who had died. Though their circumstances were different, neither ever slackened in keeping his word. Wu Zixu entrusted his life and an orphan to others, relying on this very sense of honor. Those who deceive the dead are like people plagued by flies and mosquitoes: in the end, they cannot find peace.

Some people pursue their desires by every means, and the moment they fail to get what they want, they curse and complain in resentment.

An old book says: “To have no sense of shame and pursue only what one wants—if someone lacks integrity and immediately curses and complains when things do not go as desired, then that person is all the more petty.” How could such people understand the way of holding oneself accountable while treating others with consideration, as described by Han Changli (Han Yu, posthumously titled ‘Wen’), or the principle taught by Fan Zhongxuan (Fan Chunren, posthumously titled ‘Zhongxuan’): to be forgiving when judging others and strict when judging oneself?

Han Changli said: “A gentleman is strict and thorough in making demands of himself, and generous and understanding in treating others. Because he is strict and thorough with himself, he does not slacken. Because he is generous and understanding toward others, they are glad to do good.”

Fan Zhongxuan said: “All that I have learned in my life comes down to the two words ‘loyalty’ and ‘forgiveness’; I could put them to use for a lifetime and never exhaust them.” Whether serving the ruler at court, getting along with colleagues, or keeping harmony among his kin, he never departed for a moment from these two principles. He also once advised his children and younger relatives: “No matter how foolish people may be, they are quite clear-sighted when blaming others; no matter how clever they may be, they become confused when excusing themselves. If you can blame yourselves as you blame others, and forgive others as you forgive yourselves, you need not worry that you will fail to reach the level of the sages.”

Can those who pursue only what they want understand this principle? In the world, people who do not pursue their desires single-mindedly are indeed rare. Here I will give one or two more examples, in the hope that everyone may feel ashamed.

The magistrate Hu Bao once said to someone: “In the past, many Suzhou officials and scholars from Wu County lived in Suzhou. Nearly all of them made requests and sought favors in this way. Only Fu Yan, a retired supervising official, never asked anyone to arrange a single thing for him in three years. Qiu Taibo…”

This scripture conveys principles for human conduct through several historical anecdotes, emphasizing the admonition against schadenfreude and kicking someone when they're down.

The text first recounts the stories of two upright officials, Wang Shu and He Shenxi. Though living in poverty, Wang Shu maintained his integrity without ever seeking favors. When He Shenxi passed away, his wife wept bitterly while his sister-in-law Zhao Shi made sarcastic remarks nearby. Four years later, Zhao met a more tragic end, with her children becoming mentally impaired—illustrating how those who mock others' misfortunes often face retribution.

Next comes the tale of Li Xiong, a filial son who died suddenly from illness. When his pregnant wife was left helpless, his brother-in-law He Shi not only refused assistance but spread malicious gossip. The following year, He Shi himself perished.

The scripture then cites historical figures: Meng Mingshi, the Qin general who despite past mistakes helped his state achieve hegemony, and Qu Boyu, the virtuous Wei minister who examined his conduct daily. These examples demonstrate that all humans err, and we shouldn't mock others for temporary failings.

A recurring theme emphasizes that delighting in others' misfortune is inhumane conduct. Like stones thrown down a well, calamity ultimately returns to the perpetrator. Those who mock physical disabilities violate cosmic principles—when Duke Qing of Qi had women mock envoy Xi Ke's limp from behind curtains, it provoked interstate warfare, showing how ridiculing flaws invites disaster.

Through these historical parables, the text warns: Maintain constant compassion. When encountering others' suffering, reflect on your own imperfections rather than seizing the chance to mock. For cosmic justice prevails—today's mocker becomes tomorrow's mocked.

This passage illustrates the principle of not judging people by appearances through various historical anecdotes.

When the renowned Tang dynasty general Guo Ziyi fell seriously ill, officials came to visit him in succession, yet he never dismissed his maidservants. However, when the physically unattractive and inwardly malicious Lu Qi came to visit, Guo immediately had all the attendants withdraw. He explained: "This man has a hideous appearance but a treacherous heart. If my maidservants were to laugh at his looks, he would surely seek revenge when gaining power later." This demonstrated Guo Ziyi's foresight.

The text then presents several cautionary tales: Duke Qing of Qi provoked a war by allowing women to mock an envoy's limp; the beautiful concubine of Lord Pingyuan was killed for laughing at a crippled water-carrier; and a man from Zhaoxian County was executed for ridiculing Lord Mengchang's short stature. These all serve as warnings about the consequences of disparaging others based on physical appearance.

Three positive examples of "ugly appearance but outstanding talent" follow: Lu Xie, despite his unattractive looks and speech impediment, was recognized by Wei Zhou for his coherent writing style, who predicted he would achieve greatness—later becoming Surveillance Commissioner of Fujian; Wang Qinruo's coarse appearance was identified by a physiognomist as bearing the marks of a future chancellor, which proved true several years later; and when Duke Sun Wenyi took imperial examinations, a county captain mocked his looks, yet that same year Sun placed third in the nationwide exams, leaving the official deeply ashamed when later transferred to his jurisdiction.

Finally, the account of Hou Yuangong describes how villagers painted his elderly, unattractive likeness on kites for amusement. Instead of anger, he laughed heartily and inscribed the kite with: "Who would believe my worth remains unseen?"—demonstrating extraordinary magnanimity. These cases collectively prove that human worth lies in one's capacity and insight rather than physical form. Those with ordinary appearances may harbor extraordinary talents—how can we presume to judge them lightly?

This passage recounts several stories about recognizing and employing capable people. It stresses that talent should not be overlooked because of someone’s appearance or personal bias.

The first part uses a metaphor: just as a kite rises high by catching the wind, talented people also need opportunity. One man passed the civil service examinations and rose to high office, yet others mocked him because he was not handsome. The sage, however, values inner virtue rather than outward appearance. As the historical examples of Zengmie and Ziyu show, capable people may be misjudged because of how they look.

The passage then gives examples of worthy ministers recommending capable people. When Wang Wengong (Wang Dan) was gravely ill, he recommended Kou Zhun to the emperor, overlooking Kou’s forceful temperament. On retiring, Lü Shenzhong (Lü Yijian) recommended the steady and experienced Chen Yaozuo. Qian Ruoshui eagerly supported younger men and helped many talented people develop. Ouyang Xiu, known by his posthumous title Wenzhong, gladly recommended worthy scholars without a trace of envy. While inspecting local regions, Miao Shizhong recommended more than ten capable officials. Though he did not know some of the people he recommended, Du Yan, known as Lord Qi, appointed them on the basis of their abilities. After hearing of Tang Jie’s integrity, Sun Bian, the Censor-in-Chief, strongly recommended him. Zhang Dexiang, known as Lord Ju, and Wen Yanbo, known as Lord Lu, had never met, but Zhang admired Wen’s character and immediately entrusted him with important office.

Together, these examples show that a true gentleman judges other people’s abilities fairly and does not suppress the worthy out of personal dislike or because of their appearance. Petty people let envy obstruct others; gentlemen select people for their abilities. This is the way of conduct emphasized in the Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise of the Most High on Actions and Their Retributions).

Here, “being appointed to high office” refers to receiving an important post; “retiring” means leaving office; and “inspection and transfer commissioner” refers to an official position in the Song dynasty.

This scripture illustrates the principle of karmic retribution through several narratives, emphasizing that evil deeds inevitably incur divine punishment.

The text first presents a positive example: Zhang Yong (posthumously titled Loyal and Determined) and his colleague Zhang Xiyan were originally obscure officials. However, Fan Yangui noticed that in their jurisdiction, bridges and roads were well-maintained, wastelands cultivated, gambling eradicated, and market order properly upheld, and thus recommended them. Both later became exemplary officials. This demonstrates that truly capable individuals will eventually be recognized, and virtuous talents deserve promotion.

Subsequently, cautionary tales warn against wrongdoing: According to the Daoist Xuandu Code, those who committed evil in past lives will be reborn as spirit-mediums (male mediums called xi, female called wu). If they continue harming people through sorcery in this life—such as burying curses (gu) or casting malevolent spells (yansheng techniques using talismans)—their sins deepen. After death, they will fall into the Three Wretched Realms (hell, hungry ghosts, and animal rebirth), with retribution swift as a flying arrow.

Two specific cases are cited: First, Jianzhou Prefect Ji Nanshou judged a case in the underworld where the sorcerer Wang Zicheng was condemned to iron-staff punishment and Avici Hell for commanding ghost soldiers to harm people and livestock, with his descendants also suffering consequences. Second, after the Tang dynasty's Lü Yongzhi was executed, evidence was found in his home of using bronze figurines for yansheng curses against Gao Pian (a Tang military governor).

The text concludes: Those who envy the virtuous and harm others through dark arts will ultimately reap what they sow. These stories collectively admonish people to accumulate virtue through good deeds, lest they face heaven's wrath.

This scripture uses several historical anecdotes to warn people against harming trees and living beings. The main ideas can be understood as follows:

Gao Pian, a Tang dynasty general who abused witchcraft to harm others, ultimately suffered retribution himself. This proves that using dark arts to injure others may not truly harm the intended target, but will instead bring disaster upon oneself. The Han dynasty nearly collapsed due to witchcraft-related calamities, demonstrating the dangers of superstitious beliefs in wicked paths. Like Fu Yi, a Northern Zhou official who tested a foreign monk's curse only to make the monk fall instead, or the Yue general Ning Zhi who perished in battle after deploying ghost soldiers—these are all examples of reaping what one sows.

The text particularly emphasizes the sin of "using poison to kill trees": Lord Lao (the supreme Daoist deity) explicitly forbids harming living creatures in the scriptures. Figures like Xin Ling achieved immortality through their care for plants, while Gao Chai, a disciple of Confucius, was praised by the sage for refusing to break growing branches. In contrast, the Dragon King Yipo fell into the dragon realm for damaging leaves, and the Taiyi Cave Dragon was demoted to horse form for destroying crops. This illustrates how the Dao values life—even harming a single blade of grass or tree branch incurs karmic consequences.

Trees may harbor various spiritual presences: some embody reincarnated sages (like Yi Yin born from a hollow mulberry), others represent cultivators' spiritual consciousness (like Han Yuanshou who transformed into a tree spirit), some possess innate spirituality (like Qian Shiyu's pine tree that bled and lamented when cut), and others manifest tree deities (like Qian Renkang whose theft of peonies was witnessed by the tree spirit). A particularly vivid account describes Qian Shiyu felling an ancient pine for resin; the following year, Qian Ji dreamed of an old man—the pine's spiritual form—weeping about bleeding wounds and begging for treatment. This vividly demonstrates trees' sentient nature.

The core message reflects Daoism's "reverence for life" philosophy, emphasizing that all things possess spirit and harming life inevitably brings retribution. Through historical cases and mythological tales, it admonishes people to revere nature—if even trees shouldn't be harmed, how much more should other living beings be protected.

This story recounts the warning tale of Qian Renkang's flower theft and its karmic retribution. At the time, Qian lived next to Jin Zhao, a Military Inspector of the Central Army, whose household cultivated an extraordinary peony. Each bloom produced over three hundred flowers with petals crimson as blood and golden stamens, each blossom naturally patterned with butterfly-like markings at its apex. Whenever the flowers bloomed, Jin would host viewing banquets, to which Qian was often invited.

One night, heavily intoxicated, Qian scaled the wall in thin robes to steal the flowers, carrying a large basket on his back and a dagger at his waist. As he plucked the blossoms, a faint, bee-like voice recited a verse: "Three hundred blooms in one flower, smiling to the spring breeze. Come the third month next year, each petal shall weep crimson grief." The following spring, when the peonies bloomed again, Jin hosted another banquet. Upon seeing the flowers, Qian flew into a sudden rage, returned home, and slit his own belly with a knife—fulfilling the prophecy in the verse.

The author reflects: Qian died for the sake of flowers, yet the divine had already foreseen his fate the moment he stole them. This leads to a broader question—can one justify poisoning or harming trees?

The closing eulogy states: The Zhou dynasty flourished because its virtue extended even to plants and trees (referencing King Wen of Zhou), and lush vegetation was originally an auspicious sign. Yet poets discern hidden warnings in such omens. All things between heaven and earth are born of Yin-Yang and harmonious Qi. To harm living beings against natural principles is like severing the veins of the earth. The text alludes to the Zhuangzi's fable of the "Spirit Oak Appearing in a Dream," proving this truth is no mere fantasy.

Through Qian Renkang's karmic retribution, this story warns against disrespecting nature and wantonly harming life, embodying the Daoist core belief in the "resonance between heaven and humanity."