《太上感應篇》Vol. 9

This scripture illustrates through historical examples how officials who disregard the people quickly invite disaster, while those who care for the populace receive divine blessings. The text recounts numerous acts of charity by Song Dynasty officials during calamities:

Han Qi (posthumously titled Loyal Xian) as Pacification Commissioner of Yili Circuit saved over 1.9 million famine victims; later in Hebei, he rescued more than 7 million people during Yellow River floods. Fu Bi (posthumously titled Cultured Loyalty) in Qingzhou faced eight prefectures' refugees after another Yellow River breach. He persuaded wealthy families to donate over 100,000 hu of grain and vacated 100,000 public/private buildings to shelter victims, helping 500,000 survivors return home after the next wheat harvest.

Teng Yuanfa (posthumously titled Exemplary Sensitivity) as Prefect of Yunzhou renovated 1,200 abandoned barracks to house refugees, saving 50,000 lives. Li Yunze as Prefect of Tanzhou risked punishment by opening granaries before imperial approval during famine, pledging his personal wealth as guarantee to rescue 50,000 people.

Chen Yaozuo (posthumously titled Cultured Benevolence) in Shouzhou personally donated funds for disaster relief, inspiring joint official-civilian efforts that saved tens of thousands. Wang Su (posthumously titled Virtuous Sensitivity) in Taiyuan prepared boats during Fen River floods and persuaded the wealthy to contribute grain, preserving 100,000 lives. Hu Su (posthumously titled Cultured Respect) as Yangzi County Captain spent personal funds hiring rescue boats during floods, saving thousands from drowning. Zeng Gong as Hongzhou Prefect established medical stations and converted government buildings into infirmaries during an epidemic.

These cases demonstrate how officials who genuinely cherish the people receive celestial protection. Their virtuous deeds not only saved countless lives but also established moral exemplars for later generations.

The passage recounts how several historical figures handled government affairs and treated petitions from commoners, illustrating the core Daoist principle that governance should follow natural harmony and avoid disturbing the people.

When the Song Dynasty literary giant Su Shi (courtesy name Zizhan, pseudonym Dongpo) served in Hangzhou during a major epidemic, he pooled both public and private funds to prepare medicinal brews. He dispatched officials with physicians to treat patients district by district, even establishing temporary infirmaries that saved thousands. The author reflects: those in high office ought to serve the people with such dedication.

The text then employs the metaphor of "Father Heaven and Mother Earth": just as parents entrust stewards to jointly nurture their children, officials should care for the populace. Exploiting the people is ultimately self-harm and disrupts state affairs.

Quoting Laozi’s adage "Governing a large state is like cooking a small fish" and Lu Xiangxian’s observation that "The world is naturally peaceful—it’s meddlesome people who disturb it," the passage emphasizes that governance values stillness and wuwei (non-action). Long-established policies, once adapted to by the people, should not be recklessly altered lest chaos ensue.

Three cases of commoners petitioning for office follow: Zhang Dong won a post by presenting poetry but was later dismissed for corruption; Yao Sizong gained office through verse yet proved incompetent; and Lei Jianfu, though initially blocked by Lü Yijian (Duke of Xu) from irregular promotion, eventually became a mid-level official. Another case involves Li Jie of Jizhou, who in his petition compared himself to Confucius’ disciple Yan Hui while disparaging Mencius—a pattern echoed when Han Jiang (courtesy name Zihua) encountered similar appeals in Chengdu.

These examples collectively demonstrate that statecraft demands steadiness, not impulsive reactions to radical proposals. Commoners’ petitions often exaggerate; rash appointments would only disrupt governance. True statesmen should emulate Su Shi’s pragmatic service and Lü Yijian’s prudent discernment in personnel matters.

This passage recounts several historical anecdotes illustrating principles of governance and the proper application of rewards and punishments. It begins with the story of how Wang Anshi (Jinggong) recommended someone who died in madness before being appointed, demonstrating that radical and meddlesome proposals should not be lightly trusted. Two chancellors, Zhao Pu (Zhao Hanwang) and Ji Jianmu, both wisely distanced themselves from newly appointed officials who were fond of stirring up trouble with exaggerated rhetoric, earning contemporary praise for their proper conduct as ministers. Trusting such individuals too readily could easily lead to political chaos.

The commentary adds: Governance must be impartial—introducing personal motives leads to bias. The greedy perish pursuing wealth, the boastful chase after power. If one violates principle for the sake of authority, alters laws due to personal favor, dispenses rewards and punishments arbitrarily, and discards all discipline, not only will the state suffer harm, but the individual will also find it difficult to preserve themselves.

The next story, involving Li Juzheng, illustrates the principle that "rewards must align with righteousness." As a minor official, Li gathered civilians to repel invading Khitan forces (Northern raiders) and rescued captured townspeople, yet none of the court officials were willing to petition for his merit. Only Zhang Yong (Zhang Zhongding) secretly submitted a memorial to the emperor, who was overjoyed and promoted Li several ranks. When Li sought to thank Zhang in person, Zhang avoided meeting him, instead writing on a piece of paper: "You were incorruptible before wealth, courageous in battle, diligent in administration, and benevolent toward the people—if you add caution and reverence to these, this is the finest way to serve your country. Gratitude is a private matter; we need not meet." Li treasured this note more than an audience would have been. This was a truly fitting reward.

Finally, the passage mentions Shi Ji’s incomplete story as a commander in Yanzhou during the Kangding era. The overarching theme emphasizes that governance must be just, rewards and punishments must be appropriate, and public duty must never be sacrificed for private interests. True recognition lies not in superficial formalities but in whether it aligns with moral principle.

This account documents a true incident that occurred during the Northern Song Dynasty at Yongping Fort in Yanzhou (present-day Yan'an, Shaanxi). When Western Xia forces invaded, the fort's commanding officer and military supervisor planned to lead their troops into the mountains to hide until the enemy retreated. An officer named Ji, leading several hundred soldiers, blocked the city gate and confronted them on horseback, demanding: "Where are the commander and supervisor planning to go?" The two had no choice but to confess their intentions.

Officer Ji immediately pointed out the problem: "By fleeing with your troops, you may preserve the army, but what will happen to the civilians' food supplies? How will you conceal the traces of your desertion? When the imperial court investigates, I, as the commanding officer, will surely be executed. Better to behead me right here before your horses—otherwise I cannot join this retreat." Shamed by his words, the two commanders turned their horses around and returned to the fort. When Western Xia forces later besieged the city, Ji led soldiers and civilians in holding the fort for days until the enemy withdrew. Ironically, the original commanders were later promoted for their "meritorious defense."

The author reflects: Though Ji received no immediate reward, he eventually rose to become a regional military commander (tuanlianshi), saw all three sons appointed to official positions, and had his daughter married to the famous general Guo Kui, becoming a noblewoman—a far better outcome than the two commanders who advanced through dishonorable means.

The text then quotes the Zuo Zhuan to emphasize Confucius' warning that wealth gained through unrighteous means brings calamity, and criticizes Emperor Guangwu of Han's mistaken policy of rewarding bandits as encouraging wickedness. Arbitrarily rewarding misconduct defies heavenly will. Judicial officers must understand that punishments exist to rectify wrongdoing—when inflicted on the innocent, it becomes what the Treatise on the Response of the Dao (Taishang Ganying Pian) condemns as "harming the guiltless."

A final case from Caizhou (modern Runan, Henan) illustrates this: Wealthy man Qian Ju falsely accused his younger brother of being illegitimate while hoarding over 200,000 taels of family assets. Local officials took bribes, leaving only witness Zhu Xijie to testify truthfully. When assistant prefect Xu Yi investigated, his subordinates deceived him into having Zhu flogged. Remorseful afterward, Xu heard that Master Pei at Tianqing Temple excelled at celestial petitions (zhangzou), so he sponsored three consecutive purification rituals (zhaijiao) seeking divine guidance. While prostrate in prayer, Master Pei suddenly entered a trance-like state, awakening the next day to recount visiting heaven's gate where the Great Emperor of the North Pole (Beiji Dadi) and judges from the You Sheng Court were adjudicating the case.

(Note: "Zhaijiao" refers to elaborate Daoist rituals for celestial blessings, while "zhangzou" denotes the formal written petitions priests use to communicate with deities.)

This account documents several real cases of karmic retribution:

The Perfected Warrior True Lord (an important Daoist deity) reported to the Celestial Court about a wrongful judgment made by the judicial official of Caizhou. A witness named Zhu Xijie was wrongly sentenced to thirteen strokes of bastinado, with the judge glaring and threatening: "Xu Yi's testimony remains here. If you say one wrong word during the Golden Register (Daoist Zhaijiao ritual) review, don't even think about returning home!" The judge later died a sudden, violent death.

There was also the story of scholar Yang Zhiqi. His wife hired a mule cart to fetch her parents, but encountered a drunkard harassing them on the road. The cart driver fled, and the wife was arrested and brought before Judge Wen Zhongshu. Seeing only scratch marks on the drunkard's face, the judge indiscriminately sentenced the woman to corporal punishment. When her husband returned home after failing the imperial examinations and saw this, the couple drowned themselves together. That very night, Wen Zhongshu dreamed of the City God (guardian deity of the city) rebuking him: "You treat human life as worthless grass! I've already reported to the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak (deity governing life and death) and the Jade Emperor—disaster shall befall you!" The next day Wen was dismissed from office, and after death faced judgment in the underworld courts.

The text further enumerates five medical malpractices equivalent to murder: extorting exorbitant fees during emergencies, perfunctory treatment with delays, administering wrong medications, and failing to provide timely care leading to worsened conditions. It particularly emphasizes that one wrong prescription is more terrifying than killing with a blade—while a knife may not always prove fatal, incorrect medicine directly damages the five viscera.

Finally, ancient wisdom warns: minor faults may be forgiven, but matters involving human life demand utmost caution. The original purpose of establishing punishments was to prevent crimes—how much more serious then to wrong the innocent? When prisons overflow with the wrongly condemned, how can we not take warning? Whether through bandits stealing life or quack doctors destroying it, the sin remains the same.

This passage recounts several karmic retribution tales involving physicians. It begins with the story of Zhang Shi, wife of Chen Jingren, who died due to a doctor's misdiagnosis and improper treatment. After death, her unsettled spirit wandered without rest until encountering her husband, finally finding peace. The Perfected Warrior (Zhenwu Zhenjun, an important Daoist deity), moved by her unjust suffering, directly facilitated her rebirth, bypassing the underworld judgment process.

Several physicians' different fates are then contrasted: The ancient renowned physician Bojula, because in his past life he treated a sick monk with haritaki fruit, enjoyed ninety consecutive rebirths as humans or celestial beings, ultimately attaining arhatship (the highest Buddhist spiritual achievement). Old Wang practiced medicine without regard for payment, foreseeing his death time, with fragrant aroma lingering for months after his passing. Liu Jin diligently practiced medicine, leaving only an empty shell in his coffin upon death, suggesting his ascension to immortality.

Notable Song dynasty physicians are mentioned: Ding Fengji's exceptional medical skills brought his son success in imperial examinations; Zhang Zhonghe's mastery of cold damage therapy saw both sons achieve high honors; Zhang Xingfu's family medical practice spanning generations brought descendants important official positions—all demonstrating the blessings accumulated through virtuous medical practice.

Buddhist parallels conclude the account: The bodhisattva Xinxiang witnessed in hell a sinner pierced by iron nails, whom the Buddha revealed was formerly a quack abusing acupuncture. The venerable Maudgalyayana (Buddha's disciple) encountered a starving ghost at dawn lamenting its suffering, illustrating the bitter fruits of unskillful practice.

These narratives collectively illustrate the principle that "medicine is the art of benevolence," emphasizing that physicians cultivating compassion and mastering their craft will reap blessings, while careless practice harming lives inevitably brings karmic consequences.

This scripture illustrates the principle of karmic retribution through several stories.

The first tale recounts how someone asked the Venerable Maudgalyayana (a prominent Buddhist monk) why they had been reborn as a limbless, faceless lump of flesh devoured by birds and insects. Maudgalyayana explained this was retribution for having been an incompetent physician in a past life, carelessly prescribing harmful treatments that killed patients.

Next, the text describes how the enlightened nun Huipu of Caizhou once observed two oxen passing by. She revealed the lead ox had been an abusive official in its past life, while the following ox had been a negligent doctor whose misdiagnoses caused deaths. Both animals reacted when hearing their former names, demonstrating how medical malpractice can lead to rebirth in the Three Wretched Realms (hell, hungry ghosts, or animal existence).

Several official's stories then illustrate how destiny operates according to cosmic law: Su Yijian, while at the Hanlin Academy, grew resentful when Li Hang was promoted faster and wrote ten poems venting his displeasure - he died just days after finally receiving his own promotion. Xia Houjiazheng's literary talents earned imperial favor, but his insatiable greed for more positions and wealth went unfulfilled when he died before the appointment documents arrived. Li Jining died suddenly from a stroke after celebrating drunkenly upon hearing Emperor Taizong's promise of promotion. Li Juyuan saw his impending promotion revoked due to judicial errors in a case.

The text concludes: Wealth plants seeds of resentment, and profit breeds contention. Corrupt officials who plunder the people's property may revel temporarily, but never escape cosmic justice. Each person's official position and destiny are Heaven-ordained - what is meant to come will come naturally, while what isn't cannot be forced. As the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign declares, even celestial immortals hold fixed positions in the divine bureaucracy, just as earthly offices follow this same principle of cosmic order.

This passage recounts two historical anecdotes that illustrate the principle "those who scheme against others to gain high positions will ultimately reap what they sow."

The first story concerns Mi Dechao of the Song Dynasty. Seeing that Chief Military Commissioner (equivalent to Minister of Defense) Cao Bin enjoyed the emperor's deep trust, Mi falsely accused Cao of plotting rebellion. As a result, Cao was dismissed while Mi himself assumed the military commissioner position. However, within days, Prime Minister Zhao Pu vindicated Cao Bin. The enlightened emperor immediately exiled Mi and reinstated Cao to his former glory.

The second tale involves Lu Duoxun. Envious of Prime Minister Zhao Pu's powerful position, Lu first tried persuading Wang You to help frame Zhao. When Wang refused, Lu orchestrated the scheme himself. Though temporarily successful in becoming prime minister, when the truth emerged Zhao was restored to office while Lu was exiled to Zhuya on Hainan Island.

The author reflects: Official positions represent Heaven's mandate and must be matched by corresponding virtue (De). Those villains who climb by harming others are like mantises stalking cicadas unaware of the oriole behind—they invariably face cosmic retribution. As the Dao De Jing states: "Weapons are instruments of ill omen, used only when the gentleman has no alternative." Those who delight in destroying others can never flourish under Heaven.

The text further notes how celestial bodies govern various weapons: blades correspond to the Void constellation, swords to the Horn constellation, bows to the Root constellation, arrows to Mars, crossbows to the Net constellation, and halberds to the Triaster constellation. This celestial correspondence demonstrates weapons must never be used lightly—how much more so human lives? The passage concludes with Wang Xian's story, hinting that power abusers ultimately become victims of their own devices.

A Daoist priest dressed in tattered robes, his beard stiff as steel needles and his grin stretching ear to ear, introduced himself as the abbot of Fengdu Temple (the Daoist underworld administration). He visited Cai Juhou saying: "Yesterday I received an edict from the Celestial Emperor - twenty thousand foreign souls were to be registered in our temple's death records, but I dared not handle this arbitrarily. If you insist on killing these people, though you'll gain fame in this life, you'll lose ten years of longevity. The choice is yours." Cai dismissed him as a madman and drove him away.

Soon after, the Khitan army invaded during a heavy snowfall that froze their bows and arrows until they cracked. Remembering the thousands of bow materials in the armory, Cai had craftsmen work overnight to produce crossbows. Launching a surprise attack, his forces happened to kill exactly twenty thousand enemies. Only then did Cai understand the priest's prophecy, but it was too late. The imperial court promoted him to Military Commissioner, but he died abruptly thirteen days after arriving in Dingzhou.

Consider this: these were fated deaths, yet his insistence on slaughter still cost him years of life - how much worse for those who had already surrendered? When Cai governed Yunzhou, five hundred bandits from Liangshan Marsh surrendered, yet he executed them all. The next year while performing sacrifices in Jinling as Minister of War, a malignant boil erupted on his back. He summoned Daoists to perform a Zhaijiao (purification ritual) of repentance, even having his confidant Wang Gong draft a confession for him. Cai died the next day; Wang followed on the third day.

Later, Wang Gong's spirit returned saying: "In the underworld I saw Cai Juhou shackled and emaciated. Hell guards poured buckets of blood over his head - each drenching drew agonized screams. He shouted to me from afar: 'Tell my wife to save me! This judgment is all because of those Yunzhou executions!'" Clearly, slaughtering surrendered troops invites celestial retribution.

The Dao teaches: While law permits executing murderers and war justifies battlefield killing, what need is there for exterminating those who surrender? Killing the surrendered may seem easy, but none escape the Dao's recompense.

This scripture illustrates the dangers of rejecting the virtuous and the importance of recommending talent through contrasting historical examples.

Just as the world needs a Bo Le (a legendary horse connoisseur) to recognize a thousand-mile steed, so too does society need discerning eyes to identify capable individuals. Talented people have always existed like hidden thoroughbreds—what’s lacking are the "Bo Les" who can spot them. If those in power could discern talent as Bo Le did, then virtuous individuals could serve as ministers, those with broad vision could protect the state, strategic minds could command armies, and those skilled in comforting the people could govern regions. In this way, every position would be filled by the right person, no talent would go to waste, and all endeavors would flourish.

The text particularly emphasizes that upright and capable individuals should be entrusted with greater responsibilities, as this strengthens the court’s authority and deters internal and external misconduct. Conversely, to reject and ostracize the virtuous is to deliberately drive away the competent, leaving room for self-serving manipulation. The scripture states that those who take joy in recommending talent receive divine favor, while those who casually dismiss the worthy inevitably face severe retribution.

Two positive examples are given: Han Chong of the Eastern Han Dynasty recommended Yuan An (who later rose to become Minister over the Masses). Because of his keen eye for talent, Han Chong was appointed an immortal official by the Supreme Dao Lord (Taishang Daojun) and granted secret methods of cultivation, ultimately attaining immortality. Xie Bi, a Song Dynasty remonstrance official, was meticulous in his recommendations, always burning incense and paying respects before nominating someone. Those he endorsed became wise ministers, and upon his death, he ascended as an immortal.

A negative example is Sima Shen, a favorite of Emperor Chen Shubao, who delighted in framing loyal officials. While napping one day, he was suddenly attacked by a flock of vicious birds that pecked his mouth until it bled. Another case, the Later Zhou’s Tao Gu (though his fate is not explicitly stated), implies he too faced divine retribution. These examples serve as warnings: those who exclude the virtuous ultimately reap what they sow, while those who promote the worthy receive heavenly blessings.

This passage recounts two historical cases in which people suffered Heaven’s punishment for framing the loyal and worthy. The entire Li Song family was executed, and Yu Chongliang was cast aside by the court; both met these fates because they had maliciously slandered others. After Li Song died and was buried behind Zhaojue Temple, the tomb door repeatedly opened and closed by itself. Monks sealed it with heavy stones, but one night, amid thunder and rain, it opened again, and even the bones vanished. Was this not the Supreme One’s (Taishang’s) severe punishment for their reckless slander?

The verse of praise says: The wise and upright should understand the needs of the state and care for its people. If they are given the chance to serve the world, they can surely benefit the public. The harm caused by pushing aside and belittling the worthy reaches beyond the people who are slandered. It can leave the state without anyone to relieve disaster and the people without anyone to speak up for their suffering, bringing great calamity. Such wrongdoing is as grave as committing evil directly.

Note: “Supreme One” (Taishang) refers to the Daoist supreme deity, Lord Lao, and represents the will of Heaven. Zhaojue Temple is a Buddhist monastery; its appearance here reflects the social background of interaction between Buddhism and Daoism during the Tang and Song periods. “Understanding the state and caring for its people” expresses the political and moral duty traditionally expected of scholar-officials.