《太上感應篇》Vol. 5

The fifth chapter of the fifth volume of the Taishang Ganying Pian records stories transmitted by Li Changling and praised by Zheng Qingzhi, illustrating the principle that "benevolent acts should be performed without expectation of reward."

A virtuous person helps others purely out of goodwill, with no thought of repayment. If one acts with the intention of receiving something in return, it becomes a mere transaction—such assistance is never truly sincere from the outset. Moreover, the hoped-for reward may never come, and instead, resentment may arise. How can this be considered true kindness? Thus, selfless acts of virtue often receive Heaven’s response in unexpected ways.

When Shang Lin served as magistrate of Wushan County, the county captain Li Zhu, known for his stern temperament, suddenly fell gravely ill. Moved by compassion, Shang Lin inquired about his final wishes. With tears, Li Zhu entrusted his elderly mother and young daughter to Shang Lin’s care. After Li Zhu’s death, Shang Lin used his own salary to support the mother, escorted the coffin back to Hedong, and arranged a marriage for the daughter. Later, Shang Lin dreamed of Li Zhu bowing in gratitude, saying: "You were fated to have no sons, but in recognition of your kindness, I have petitioned the Celestial Emperor to be reborn as your child." That very month, Shang Lin’s wife conceived. When Shang Lin later sailed home, he repeatedly saw Li Zhu guiding him along treacherous rapids from the riverbank. At the child’s birth, a magistrate indeed arrived with congee, fulfilling Li Zhu’s prophecy, so the boy was named "Heying." He grew up to be magnanimous, kind, and filial, eventually rising to the position of Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review.

Another story tells of Yu Wenyingdi, who, while serving in Qianjiang, once exonerated an unjustly accused commoner. Three years later, when his boat capsized in perilous waters, he was rescued by that very man, who risked his life to save him. Reflecting on the coincidence, they remarked: "Back then, I did not clear your name for your sake, nor did you know it was me drowning today. Surely this is Heaven’s will, revealing how virtue begets its own reward."

These accounts demonstrate that sincere acts of kindness, though performed without expectation, are never overlooked by Heaven. The karmic bond between Shang Lin and Li Zhu, as well as Yu Wenyingdi’s miraculous encounter, both affirm the Daoist truth: "The retribution for good and evil follows like a shadow."

Officials often say, "This is simply how colleagues should treat each other," never imagining that one day they might receive gratitude from another's children. When adjudicating cases, they think only, "Rulings ought to be fair," unaware that today's peril might be averted by yesterday's righteous act. These are all instances of unintentional virtue yielding natural rewards. Calculated efforts to seek recompense, however, often prove futile. As the ancient saying wisely observes: "Though good deeds be unmotivated, blessings will find their way; harbor no wicked thoughts, lest you meet them on narrow paths." This contains profound truth.

The Commentary observes: Compassion arises spontaneously as heaven-endowed virtue (De), while currying favor with the powerful stems from self-interest. Virtue aligns with cosmic principle (Tianli), smoothing all affairs; selfish desires breed contention. The distinction between good and evil may seem slight, yet their consequences diverge vastly—we must weigh them carefully.

In the Taishang Ganying Pian, Laozi declares: "The more you aid others, the more you possess; the more you give, the greater your abundance." Most people clutch wealth tightly—some never parting with a penny, others regretting their charity. Only those who give generously without remorse, who genuinely delight in beneficence, can achieve this. Such virtuous merit (Fude) naturally multiplies.

In his youth, the Song dynasty's Liu Zhongtu encountered a scholar at an inn who needed funds to bury his parents. Learning twenty thousand coins were required, Liu returned home and without hesitation gave a hundred taels of silver and tens of thousands in cash. When Fan Zhongyan sent his son Yaofu to transport wheat from Suzhou, the ship met Shi Manqing stranded in Danyang—unable to bury three deceased relatives. Yaofu gifted him the entire cargo of five hundred bushels. Later, Fan asked about the old friend and, hearing what transpired, inquired, "Why not give him the wheat ship?" Upon learning his son already had, Fan smiled approvingly. Such noble conduct leaves no room for regret.

Admittedly, such heights exceed ordinary reach, yet lesser virtuous examples abound. Take the wealthy Li Qian, who loaned a thousand bushels during famine. When disaster struck again the next year and villagers couldn't repay, he publicly burned the promissory notes, declaring, "The debt ends here."

This scripture recounts stories and principles about accumulating virtue through good deeds. It first tells of a wealthy man who encountered two consecutive years of disaster. In the first year, he opened his granaries to relieve the suffering, and the following harvest was exceptionally abundant. Though others rushed to repay him, he refused all compensation. The next year brought severe drought, and again he exhausted his family's resources to provide porridge relief, saving tens of thousands and burying the dead. When praised for accumulating great "hidden virtue" (undeclared good deeds), he replied that hidden virtue is like tinnitus—something one knows privately without needing to proclaim it.

The text then mentions another wealthy man named Li Haoran, who consistently aided the poor for over forty years without faltering. These benefactors all received good fortune in return, with their descendants passing imperial examinations—confirming the principle that "the more one gives, the more one gains."

Quoting Confucius, it states: "Truly virtuous people are rare; if you meet someone who perseveres in goodness, that's remarkable enough." Becoming virtuous is actually simple: as officials, be loyal; as children, be filial; maintain harmony among siblings and between spouses, leading by example to influence others. Specifically, one should: nurture compassion in the heart, maintain integrity even in private ("not deceiving the dark chamber"), avoid crooked paths, and know when to advance or retreat; care for orphans and widows, respect the elderly and cherish the young, rescue the endangered and aid the needy; refrain from flaunting strengths or exposing others' weaknesses, restraining evil while promoting good; give more while receiving less, bearing insults without resentment and receiving honors with humility; bestow kindness without expecting return, giving without regret; regard others' gains and losses as one's own, even extending benevolence to insects and plants.

Finally, it cites the example of Duke Li Wenzheng (Li Fang). After retirement, Emperor Taizong of Song summoned him to the palace during the Lantern Festival in the imperial palanquin, seated him beside the dragon throne, personally poured wine and offered fruits, praising him as a true virtuous gentleman. The emperor noted that during Li Fang's service as chancellor, he never harbored harmful intentions. Returning home, Li told his son: "Though I achieved no grand accomplishments, my conscience is clear throughout life. Receiving such honors now shows Heaven never fails to reward the virtuous."

This passage describes the standards for a good and noble person and offers examples of such people, focusing on how one can become truly good and noble.

It begins by setting out four basic principles. First, even when one’s conduct is outstanding, one should not overshadow the merits of others. Second, one should not envy another person’s progress. Third, one should do nothing shameful even when alone. Fourth, one should act within one’s means and remain content in one’s proper place. The author believes that he has met all four standards.

The passage then gives two examples of what it means to be truly good and noble. The first is Li Mu, whose posthumous title was Wenzheng. When Li Mu died, the emperor personally came to mourn and wept, praising him as a truly noble person who was “pure, simple, clear-minded, upright, detached, and free of excessive desires.” Li was principled in office without being rigid, widely learned, and skilled in handling affairs of state. As a result, people praised him highly, whether they had known him personally or not.

The second example is Fan Feng. An elderly gatekeeper who worked for him could judge whether each newly appointed Censor-in-Chief was capable simply by observing subtle details of their arrival, such as the way they held their staff. This shows that a truly worthy person’s virtue naturally comes through even in the smallest gestures.

The passage closes with an image from the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes. Its image of pure Yang symbolizes the highest goodness. In the same way, if people cultivate good intentions and put them into practice, Yang will grow and Yin recede, until they reach a state in which “everyone respects them.” The virtue of a truly good and noble person shines openly, like pure Yang energy, and naturally moves others to change.

Through concrete examples and theoretical explanation, the passage shows that being good and noble means more than possessing high moral character: that character must also appear in one’s everyday words and actions. Such a person naturally earns the respect of others.

This passage recounts how several historical figures earned genuine respect, demonstrating that true reverence stems from personal virtue (De) rather than forced authority.

An imperial censor constantly worried about lacking respect, only to overhear his cooks whispering: "If he fusses over every banquet detail like this, imagine how insufferable he'd be as prime minister." Even servants disdained him because his behavior deserved no esteem.

The contrast with Sima Guang (Duke Wen) was striking. When he traveled to the capital, guards saluted him respectfully, while commoners blocked roads begging him to stay as their savior prime minister. At his death, capital residents suspended markets in mourning, with nearly a thousand mourners arriving from distant regions.

When Imperial Reminder Liu served in Nanjing, people said "visiting Nanjing without seeing Lord Liu is like going to Sizhou without worshipping the sacred statue." Upon his passing, people of all ranks competed to burn incense and chant scriptures in his memory, causing ritual goods' prices to soar.

Other examples abound: Wang Yansheng's colleagues dared not jest in his presence at court; scholars like Chen Xiang were revered as the "Four Masters" whose dignity silenced even the most arrogant; when Fu Bi (Duke Wenzhong) crossed a bridge in his carriage, crowds gathered so thickly that market streets emptied.

These cases reveal how authentic respect flows naturally from noble character and public service, never compelled by official rank. As the text rhetorically asks: how could someone whose daily conduct earns servants' contempt ever win universal reverence?

This passage recounts several stories illustrating how "Heaven's Dao protects the virtuous," demonstrating that upright and kind individuals receive divine protection.

The first anecdote describes Xu Xiaojie building a mourning hut beside his parents' grave. Townspeople daily paid respects until the marketplace stood empty. Shen Yan, known for his unconventional integrity, received spontaneous bows from merchants whenever he passed through the market. When Neo-Confucian scholar Shao Kangjie (Shao Yong of the Northern Song) traveled, officials rushed to greet him. Their universal respect stemmed from genuine moral excellence.

Several historical examples then reveal how "reverence arises naturally": Guo Tai's (Linzong) iconic headcloth, the hermit Zizhi's distinctive eyebrows, and even Sima Guang's (Junshi) servants treating him with deference—none sought these honors, yet all received them effortlessly. Like the Uyghurs' spontaneous submission to General Guo Ziyi, true respect cannot be manufactured.

The central narrative follows Liu Qizhi (Liu Anshi): After passing the imperial exams, he delayed official appointment to further his studies, emulating Confucius' disciple Qidiao Kai who confessed unpreparedness for governance. Sima Guang (Duke Wen) greatly admired him. As imperial censor, Liu submitted twenty-four memorials distinguishing loyal from treacherous ministers, followed by nineteen petitions opposing Zhang Dun's (Zihou) appointment—actions that made contemporaries fear for his life. When Zhang gained power, Liu endured exile through seven malarial southern prefectures where others perished, yet he lived disease-free past eighty.

The most miraculous episode involves an opportunist volunteering to assassinate Liu to curry Zhang's favor. Immediately promoted to transport official, the man galloped toward Liu's dwelling. At twenty li away, as he prepared to strike at dawn, midnight temple bells suddenly rang. Struck as if by invisible force, the would-be killer vomited blood and died. Without this intervention, Liu's survival would have been impossible—clear evidence of Heaven's protection.

The fragmentary mention of Geng Ziyu (Eastern Han minister Geng Cheng) continues this theme of virtuous men receiving auspicious outcomes. These accounts collectively demonstrate the Daoist principle: though impartial, Heaven invariably safeguards the good. As the Yijing states, "With Heaven's protection, good fortune follows without exception"—such rewards arrive unbidden through natural cosmic alignment.

This passage recounts two stories illustrating the principle of "Heaven's Dao (the Way) blesses the virtuous" and explains the teaching from the Taishang Ganying Pian (Treatise on Response and Retribution) that "fortune and blessings follow accordingly."

The first story tells of Ziyu (Confucius' disciple Zeng Shen) escorting his father's coffin home during dangerous flood conditions. As autumn floods raged with torrential currents at Qutang Gorge and rain threatened, terrified boatmen feared disaster. Ziyu wept bitterly toward heaven—before his tears dried, the waters miraculously receded over twenty zhang (about 60 meters), allowing safe passage before the flood resumed. The author reflects: Could this be anything but Heaven's protection? This demonstrates that Heaven's blessing depends fundamentally on human virtue, with loyalty and filial piety being the highest forms of goodness.

A poetic commentary observes: Heaven's Dao operates with perfect fairness, devoid of private preferences. It aids the virtuous, supports moral conduct, aligns with cosmic principles, and honors the worthy. Auspicious signs naturally surround those who follow the true path—what truly protects us is the heavenly principle within our own hearts. Fortune naturally follows such virtuous people.

The second story illustrates this through historical figures. Song Dynasty statesman Fu Bi (posthumously titled Duke Zheng), having offended the prime minister with frank counsel, was sent on a perilous diplomatic mission to Liao. Scholar Ouyang Xiu warned the emperor this mirrored how treacherous minister Lu Qi had once sent loyal official Yan Zhenqing to certain doom—yet Fu Bi's wisdom and virtue not only averted war but secured a century of peace. Upon returning, he repeatedly declined promotions until the emperor insisted on his high position—a perfect manifestation of "fortune following virtue."

Finally, the account mentions an ordinary physician named Zhen Baili who treated rich and poor alike with equal dedication. When the emperor fell ill, Zhen's reputation led to his summons—one dose of medicine brought recovery. This shows even commoners attract blessings through sincere kindness and diligent service.

Through these three cases, the text clarifies Heaven's impartial justice: fortune never comes arbitrarily but naturally follows virtuous deeds. Loyalty, integrity, and compassion form the foundation that summons blessings—proving cosmic response aligns with human morality.

This physician, Zhen Quan, was deeply favored by the emperor and often entered the palace. In just half a year, the gold pieces he received as rewards had piled up to more than twenty thousand, and he kept over three thousand bottles of fine wine in storage year-round. Though this did not make him fabulously wealthy or highly exalted, was it not a blessing compared with the poverty he had once known? The key to receiving good fortune and prosperity, after all, lies in one’s own cultivation.

As the ancients rightly said, Yan Hui lived hungry in a humble lane; Boyi and Shuqi gathered fern shoots on Mount Shouyang to eat; Yuan Xian was so poor he could not afford shoes; and Fan Pang met his death under torture. Their fates may seem to have had little to do with good fortune or prosperity. Yet their virtue shone like the sun and moon. That was true good fortune, and people still praise them a thousand years later. As for malign spirits, they naturally dare not approach the upright.

“Many evils” refers to all kinds of unrighteous influences. Evil and righteousness are as incompatible as water and fire: wherever righteous Qi (vital energy) is present, evil Qi naturally retreats. It is like sunlight falling on an iceberg: the sun continues to shine brightly, and the ice and snow naturally melt. There have been examples throughout history. For instance, sorcery had no effect on the eminent monk Tanxian, and the flower spirit Su’e dared not appear before Di Renjie.

In the past, the Daoist Lu Xiujing and others were skilled in incantations. They could use magic to make monks’ robes and alms bowls, as well as palace beams and pillars, fly through the air, and thought themselves possessed of great supernatural powers. When Master Tanxian heard of this, he laid Master Chou’s robe on the ground and invited them to try their magic. The Daoists chanted incantations together, but the robe did not move at all. Tanxian then casually hung it from a roof beam and asked them to try again. The beam and pillars remained firm and unmoving. Lu Xiujing and the others were mortified.

There is another example. Wu Sansi bought a beautiful concubine named Su’e and often showed her off at banquets. Once, he invited Di Renjie to a feast, but Su’e hid away and would not come out. Wu Sansi pressed her for a reason. From her hiding place, she whispered, “I am a spirit of flowers and moonlight. Lord Liang, Di Renjie, is an upright gentleman. How could I dare show myself before him?” After that, she never dared appear again.

There are upright gentlemen of this kind even today, such as Fang Qianzhi. He remained tranquil and self-possessed, taking joy in understanding the Great Dao. At the time, malaria was widespread where he lived. Whenever Fang Qianzhi wrote down his name for a sick person, the person recovered at once. When someone asked him how this worked, he said, “A righteous heart naturally overcomes evil. Though I live in poverty…”

This scripture recounts several stories of moral resonance, illustrating how different individuals experience varying encounters with spirits based on their virtue.

The first scenario describes "spirits retreating at the sight of reputation": Some people, though lacking material wealth to donate, diligently recite the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) daily, maintaining benevolent thoughts and dissolving malice with compassion. Such individuals not only cultivate themselves but also repel evil influences. Take Zhang Guaiya (a renowned Song dynasty official) as an example—his lifelong integrity and friendship with the recluse Fu Lin created such moral power that during a nighttime conversation in the countryside amid a plague outbreak, nearby patients suddenly recovered. Tradition holds that spirits withdrew out of reverence for their virtue.

The second case shows "spirits retreating at the sound of virtue": Officials like Peng Gongda (another Song dynasty figure), who practiced purity and incorruptibility. When assigned to Huzhou—a government office notoriously haunted where previous officials found no peace—the disturbances ceased upon his arrival without any special rituals. This demonstrates how genuine virtue naturally repels negative forces.

The third example serves as a cautionary tale: When Zhang Xuangan served as Huainan's transport commissioner, he suffered constant spirit harassment. A military officer skilled in exorcism scolded the spirits: "How dare you trouble an imperial official?" The spirits mockingly replied: "We're nothing like you sycophants chasing fame." The disturbances intensified thereafter, revealing the moral deficiency on both sides.

The text concludes: In eras where virtue prevails, even spirits cause no disturbances. When human hearts are transparent, nothing in creation remains hidden. Sincerity creates stability like unshakable heaven and earth—not even thunder can startle it. This state of abundant righteous energy (Zhengqi) repels all malign forces. The divine (referring to cosmic righteousness) protects those embodying four qualities: honoring the Dao (Way), practicing loyalty and filial piety, maintaining impartial integrity, and accumulating hidden virtue (Yinde). Like the Song statesman Han Qi (Duke of Wei): When transferred from Chengde to Zhongshan amid floodwaters blocking his path, he declared "Since I'm here, why flee?" Commanding boat preparations, he proceeded safely—proving heaven aids the upright.

This passage recounts two stories illustrating divine protection for virtuous individuals. The first tells of Mei Gongyi, a Northern Song dynasty official serving in Huazhou, who received an urgent report of a Yellow River breach one night. Immediately gathering officials and soldiers, he rushed to the site to contain the flooding. At the critical moment, witnesses saw a white-bearded old man ferrying bundles of straw (used to plug the breach) back and forth in a small boat—everyone assumed he was a helpful local villager. When the waters stabilized at daybreak and they searched for the old man, he had mysteriously vanished.

The second story describes an official crossing a river when his procession encountered sudden violent waves before completing the crossing. Eyewitnesses clearly saw a divine dragon lying across the upstream current, blocking the torrential flow to make the waters shallower for safe passage.

The text concludes by explaining the operating principle of divine beings: they perceive the finest details with perfect impartiality. Residing in lofty realms, they detect the subtlest matters, dispelling inauspicious signs to protect those with virtue (De). Truly virtuous people don't deliberately seek divine favor—the gods naturally shield them. Conversely, those who commit evil will face celestial punishment.

(Note: This reflects the Daoist concept of "cosmic resonance between heaven and humanity," where human virtue or vice invites corresponding divine reward or retribution, emphasizing the importance of accumulating virtuous deeds.)