《韓非子》Vol. 15

Duke Wen of Jin prepared for war against Chu and summoned his advisor Jiu Fan (Hu Yan of Jin) to seek counsel: "Our forces are outnumbered—how should we proceed?" Jiu Fan replied: "A nobleman devoted to ritual can never have too much loyalty and trustworthiness (for elaborate rites demand such virtues), but on the battlefield, one can never have too much deception (without stratagems, victory is unattainable). Your Grace need only employ cunning tactics."

The Duke then consulted Yong Ji, another high minister, with the same question. Yong Ji responded: "Burning forests for hunting may yield abundant prey momentarily, but it exhausts future resources; deceiving the people may bring short-term gains, but it erodes lasting trust." Though the Duke adopted Jiu Fan's stratagem to defeat Chu, when distributing rewards afterward, he honored Yong Ji above Jiu Fan. The courtiers protested: "The victory at Chengpu was won through Jiu Fan's tactics—why is he ranked second?" The Duke explained: "Jiu Fan's advice served an immediate need, but Yong Ji spoke of enduring principles for perpetual prosperity." When Confucius heard of this, he praised: "No wonder Duke Wen achieved hegemony—he understood both expediency and long-term governance."

Yet critics countered: Yong Ji's response failed to address the specific tactical challenge of "overcoming superior numbers." Counsel should suit the question asked—when queried about military strategy, he offered moral platitudes. Moreover, true long-term interests depend on victory itself—triumph ensures national security and military strength, while defeat brings ruin and death. What "perpetual prosperity" remains when survival is at stake? Empty talk of distant futures holds no meaning when immediate existence hangs in the balance.

(Commentary: This passage illustrates the Legalist-Ruist clash between "expediency" and "kingly virtue." Han Feizi uses this historical anecdote to explore the dialectic between pragmatism and moral principles, reflecting his political philosophy of "adapting to circumstances.")

This passage explores two core themes: the legitimacy of "deception" in military strategy, and the nuanced appraisal of Emperor Shun's virtuous conduct.

Regarding military tactics, the text examines a dialogue between Duke Wen of Jin and his advisors Yong Ji and Jiu Fan. It argues that employing deception against enemies ("zha di") in warfare is morally justified, fundamentally different from deceiving one's own people. Duke Wen's victory over Chu was achieved through Jiu Fan's strategic cunning, despite Yong Ji advocating benevolence and righteousness. The author criticizes Confucius (Zhongni) for failing to grasp proper merit recognition, asserting that tangible military achievements should take precedence in rewards.

The second part recounts Emperor Shun's hands-on approach to reforming social customs. When Shun personally farmed at Mount Li, within a year peasants stopped disputing field boundaries. Fishing by the riverside, he inspired fishermen to practice courtesy within a year. At Eastern Yi, his pottery-making improved ceramic quality in a year. Confucius praised these acts—though beyond a ruler's typical duties—as Shun's intentional correction of moral decay, embodying true benevolence (ren). Yet critics question: Why did such social problems persist under the sage-king Yao's reign? This implies that truly enlightened rulership should prevent misconduct preemptively, eliminating wickedness before it arises.

Key terms: "Zha wei" specifically denotes tactical deception in warfare, distinct from civilian fraud; "quan mu" refers to field boundaries; "ku yu" describes crude craftsmanship. Through these examples, the text reveals tensions between pragmatic military philosophy and idealistic virtue-based governance, while probing deeper standards for "sage-kingship."

This passage from Han Feizi presents political arguments through several illustrative stories.

The first section discusses the contradictory governing approaches of Shun and Yao. The text argues that if Yao was truly a sage ruler, the people would naturally understand propriety and deference—why would they need Shun's moral instruction? The fact that Shun had to rectify social ills actually reveals deficiencies in Yao's governance. Praising Shun's virtue implicitly criticizes Yao's discernment, while extolling Yao's sageliness undermines Shun's benevolent rule—these two positions cannot logically coexist. This resembles the Chu merchant who boasted his shield could block any spear and his spear could pierce any shield, only to be stumped when asked what would happen if his spear struck his shield. Though Shun spent his lifetime correcting social faults, human life is finite while errors are infinite—such piecemeal corrections achieve little.

The second section examines governance methodology. Han Feizi contends that establishing clear reward-and-punishment systems for universal enforcement yields immediate results—laws issued in the morning take effect by evening, and spread nationwide within ten days. Why emulate Shun's approach requiring years of effort? Instead of advising Yao to institutionalize governance, Shun personally labored at grassroots reforms—a fundamental misunderstanding of statecraft. Rulers who exhaust themselves transforming subjects through personal example make even Yao and Shun's achievements seem extraordinary, whereas wielding authority enables mediocre rulers to govern effortlessly. Leaders who abandon simple methods for arduous ones prove unfit for governance.

The third section recounts Guan Zhong's deathbed warning to Duke Huan of Qi. The minister urged the duke to dismiss three sycophants: Shu Diao, Yi Ya, and Kai Fang. Yi Ya had cooked his own son's head as an offering—how could someone who doesn't love his child love his lord? Shu Diao castrated himself to serve in the palace—how could someone who disregards his body remain loyal? Kai Fang neglected visiting his mother for fifteen years—how could an unfilial son be truly devoted? Guan Zhong warned that falsehoods cannot endure—these men's unnatural behavior betrayed ulterior motives.

This passage discusses Han Feizi's critique of Guan Zhong's advice to Duke Huan of Qi, along with his profound analysis of ruler-minister relations.

On his deathbed, Guan Zhong advised Duke Huan to distance himself from corrupt officials like Shu Diao and Yi Ya. The Duke ignored this counsel, and after his death, his corpse lay unattended, even breeding maggots. Han Feizi argues that Guan Zhong's approach to remonstration was flawed—his reasoning that "those who do not cherish their own bodies cannot truly care for their ruler" was unconvincing. After all, loyal ministers who would sacrifice their lives for their lord are, by nature, also disregarding their own well-being. By Guan Zhong's logic, such devoted officials should likewise be rejected.

A truly wise ruler governs thus: He establishes ranks and emoluments that the people desire to encourage merit, and institutes punishments that the people fear to suppress wickedness. Rewards must be trustworthy, and penalties must be resolute. When the ruler promotes ministers based on their achievements, corrupt individuals naturally lose influence. The relationship between ruler and minister is fundamentally transactional: The minister contributes his labor, and the ruler provides his stipend—it is not akin to the intimate bond between father and son.

Han Feizi identifies the root of Duke Huan's tragedy in the excessive power of his ministers, which left the ruler marginalized. When powerful officials monopolize governance, the ruler's decrees cannot reach the people, and the people's grievances cannot ascend to the throne, resulting in the ruler's isolation and downfall. He proposes principles for enlightened rule: No individual should hold multiple offices; no office should overlap in jurisdiction; those of low rank should have opportunities for advancement without relying on powerful patrons; and when evaluating ministers, the ruler must not heed the biased words of his inner circle.

(Note: Shu Diao was a eunuch who castrated himself to serve Duke Huan; Yi Ya famously cooked his own child to offer as a meal—both are infamous historical figures. Prince Jiu was Duke Huan's political rival, and Guan Zhong initially served Prince Jiu against Duke Huan.)

This passage from Han Feizi primarily discusses how rulers should properly implement rewards and punishments.

The first section recounts how Guan Zhong, while assisting Duke Huan of Qi, failed to explicitly warn him about keeping distance from three treacherous ministers including Yi Ya, which later led to state disorder. This illustrates Guan Zhong's lack of foresight in establishing proper reward-and-punishment systems.

The second section describes how Zhao Xiangzi, after the Battle of Jinyang, rewarded five meritorious officials, listing Gao He as the foremost. Although Gao He had no outstanding military achievements, he consistently maintained proper ruler-subject etiquette. Confucius praised this as exemplary reward because it encouraged all officials to uphold ritual propriety.

However, some refute that Confucius didn't truly understand "proper reward." True reward should ensure: officials fulfill their respective duties, subjects dare not violate etiquette, rulers establish laws, and ministers harbor no deceitful intentions. When Zhao Xiangzi was besieged at Jinyang, if laws weren't enforced, it would be as if there were no ruler. By rewarding a minister who merely observed etiquette without actual merit, he actually indulged arrogant officials—this constitutes improper reward and punishment. An enlightened ruler should reward only the meritorious and punish only the guilty.

The final section tells of Duke Ping of Jin drinking with his ministers when he sighed that a ruler's greatest joy was speaking without opposition. Court musician Shi Kuang, hearing this, actually threw his zither at the duke, smashing it against the wall. When questioned, Shi Kuang explained a petty man had been spouting nonsense nearby. Through Shi Kuang's action, this demonstrates true loyal ministers should dare to offer blunt remonstrance rather than blindly obey their rulers.

During a banquet held by Duke Ping of Jin, the court musician Shi Kuang (a famous blind musician of antiquity) suddenly struck him with a zither. The startled duke asked why, to which Shi Kuang replied: "Just now there was a petty man speaking by your side, so I had to strike him." When the duke explained, "That was me speaking," Shi Kuang sighed and said: "These are not words befitting a ruler!" Though the attendants wanted to punish Shi Kuang, Duke Ping intervened: "Release him—let this serve as my warning."

Commentary observes: In this incident, Duke Ping of Jin failed in his ruler's Dao (the Way), while Shi Kuang violated the proper ritual between ruler and minister. The correct relationship should be: when a ruler errs, ministers should remonstrate; if advice goes unheeded, they should maintain distance. But Shi Kuang didn't correct the duke's faults through proper remonstration—instead, he struck the ruler as if punishing a subordinate, completely reversing their proper roles. A minister's duty toward his ruler resembles a strict father disciplining his son; Shi Kuang's actions constituted grave impropriety. Worse still, Duke Ping accepted this willingly, revealing his fundamental misunderstanding of rulership.

Duke Huan of Qi (foremost among the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period) repeatedly visited the recluse Xiaochen Ji without success. The duke remarked: "I've heard that commoners who disregard rank and stipends won't submit to rulers, just as rulers who neglect humaneness (Ren) and righteousness (Yi) cannot attract worthy men." Only on his fifth visit did he gain audience.

Critics note: Duke Huan misunderstood true humaneness and righteousness. Authentic righteousness involves eliminating harm for all under heaven and sharing the nation's burdens while enduring humiliation—like Yi Yin (foundation minister of Shang) who became Tang's cook to save the realm, or Baili Xi (renowned Qin statesman) who endured captivity to rescue his state. Yet Duke Huan—a hegemon—demeaned himself courting a commoner, while Xiaochen Ji presumptuously refused audiences. What kind of righteousness is this? This reveals flaws in Duke Huan's conception of virtue.

This passage examines two historical incidents that reveal the principles rulers should follow in governance.

The first part discusses Duke Huan of Qi's treatment of minor officials. The text points out that true benevolence (ren) and righteousness (yi) should manifest in upholding proper ritual hierarchy between ruler and subject. When a ruler neglects the people and violates the Dao of ruler-subject relations, it cannot be called virtuous governance. Duke Huan either indulged petty officials who evaded their duties or tolerated their empty posturing—such practices actually fostered disrespect toward authority and harmed state administration.

The second part recounts the story of Han Xianzi and Xi Xianzi, two Jin state generals. When Han executed a man, Xi rushed to intervene but arrived too late. Xi then suggested publicly displaying the corpse to "share the criticism." The author questions this reasoning: if the executed man was truly guilty, attempting to save him would undermine the law; if innocent, displaying his body would compound the injustice. Both scenarios would breed public resentment and destabilize the state. Xi's approach not only failed to genuinely share criticism but risked generating new grievances.

These cases demonstrate that rulers must carefully consider consequences when handling affairs, safeguarding both legal authority and proper hierarchical order—otherwise, state disorder will inevitably follow.

This passage presents two historical anecdotes that explore the relationship between rulers and ministers and the principles of governance.

The first story recounts events during King Zhou's reign when the people held high expectations of their rulers. Han Feizi (a prominent Legalist scholar) failed to meet these expectations, as did another minister named Xi Zi. Consequently, the people became utterly disillusioned with their rulers. The text criticizes Xi Zi for not sharing the burden of criticism but instead exacerbating public discontent. When Xi Zi went to admonish Han Feizi, he merely pointed out Han's mistakes without specifying their nature, leaving Han Feizi even more confused about his faults. This approach both deepened the people's despair toward the ruling class and left ministers uncertain about their errors.

The second story concerns Guan Zhong (a renowned statesman of the Spring and Autumn period) and Duke Huan of Qi. After releasing Guan Zhong from captivity, Duke Huan appointed him as chancellor. Guan Zhong raised three concerns: first, about his humble status—to which Duke Huan elevated him above the aristocratic Gao and Guo families; second, about his poverty—to which Duke Huan granted him the "San Gui" (a generous stipend); third, about his distant relationship with the ruler—to which Duke Huan honored him with the title "Zhong Fu" (Second Father, a term of utmost respect). The text clarifies that Guan Zhong wasn't seeking power for its own sake, but recognized that status, wealth, and close relationships were essential foundations for effective governance.

The subsequent discussion observes that even when orders are conveyed by lowly attendants (zang huo), high ministers dare not disobey—not because the messengers are esteemed, but because of the ruler's authority. Had Guan Zhong governed without relying on Duke Huan's authority, it would have amounted to disregarding the sovereign. A state cannot be governed without its ruler. If governance merely required enforcing Duke Huan's decrees, even attendants could have done so—why then was it necessary for Guan Zhong to attain the status surpassing the Gao and Guo families or receive the "Zhong Fu" honorific?

The conclusion reflects that in contemporary administration, even when low-ranking clerks (du cheng) deliver orders, they neither defer to the recipient's high status nor accommodate their low position. When acting according to law, even the humblest palace eunuch (xiang bo) can command respect. This illustrates that the essence of governance lies in adherence to law rather than in personal status.

Guan Zhong, though holding the position of a high minister, acted contrary to legal principles. Even high-ranking officials will be despised by the people if they behave this way. Instead of focusing on honoring the ruler and clarifying the law, Guan Zhong sought to increase his personal favor and titles. This reveals his greed for wealth and status, proving he was muddled and ignorant of proper governance. Thus, Guan Zhong's conduct was flawed, and his reputation was undeservedly inflated.

King Xuan of Han asked Jiu Liu: "I wish to simultaneously employ both Gong Zhong and Gong Shu. Would this be acceptable?" Jiu Liu replied: "In the past, the state of Wei concurrently employed Lou Huan and Di Huang, only to lose the western lands along the Yellow River. The state of Chu simultaneously favored the Zhao and Jing clans, resulting in the loss of Yan and Ying territories. If you now employ both Gong Zhong and Gong Shu, they will inevitably compete for power, collude with foreign states for personal gain, and thus endanger the nation."

Someone countered: "Duke Jing of Qi simultaneously employed Guan Zhong and Bao Shuya, while King Tang of Shang employed both Yi Yin and Zhong Hui. If employing multiple ministers inevitably leads to disaster, then Duke Huan of Qi could never have achieved hegemony, nor could King Tang have become a sage ruler." Jiu Liu responded: "King Min of Qi relied solely on Nao Chi, yet was killed in the eastern temple. King Wuling of Zhao entrusted power exclusively to Li Dui, only to starve to death in the Shaqiu Palace. The key lies in whether the ruler possesses the art of governance: those with skill can manage multiple ministers without issue, while those without will face chaos even with a single appointee."

When Duke Jing of Qi visited Yanzi's home and saw its cramped quarters near the marketplace, he offered to relocate him to the gardens of Yuzhang. Yanzi declined politely: "My family is poor and depends on the market for daily meals. Moving farther would be inconvenient." The duke laughed and asked: "Do you know the market prices?" At the time, Duke Jing's punishments were excessively harsh. Yanzi replied: "Prosthetic limbs are expensive, while shoes are cheap." When asked why, Yanzi explained: "Because too many people have had their feet amputated as punishment." Only then did the duke realize his cruelty and subsequently reduced five types of punishments.

In truth, Yanzi's remark about expensive prosthetics wasn't literal—it was a clever rhetorical strategy to persuade the duke to lessen penalties. In chaotic states, the severity of punishments doesn't depend on their quantity but on their appropriateness.

The hidden danger in governing a state lies not in the quantity of punishments, but in their appropriateness. If punishments are improperly applied, even a few can be as harmful as excessive ones. Those who fail to understand this principle always complain about excessive punishments without addressing their inappropriateness—this reveals a fundamental lack of governance expertise.

Consider a defeated army: executing hundreds of deserters still won’t stop the retreat. When quelling social chaos, no matter how severe the punishments, if they aren’t properly targeted, wickedness will persist unabated. Now, if someone like Yanzi focuses solely on the number of punishments without examining their fairness, isn’t that absurd? It’s like cherishing weeds at the expense of crops or shielding thieves to the detriment of honest citizens. Lightening punishments under the guise of benevolence only emboldens evildoers while harming the virtuous—this is certainly not the Dao of governance.

Duke Huan of Qi once lost his hat while drunk and, feeling ashamed, avoided court for three days. Guan Zhong advised: "This is no disgrace for a ruler—you needn’t dwell on it." Yet the Duke sought to erase this shame through decrees: opening granaries to aid the poor and pardoning minor offenders. Within days, people sang: "Why doesn’t our lord lose his hat again?" Some observed: While Guan Zhong helped the Duke save face before petty minds, he actually deepened the ruler’s shame in the eyes of noble men. For if distributing grain and pardons wasn’t motivated by righteousness (De), it couldn’t erase disgrace; if it was righteous, why wait for a lost hat to act? This proved the Duke’s "virtue" was mere expediency, not true Dao. Thus he traded small embarrassment for greater moral failure.

Moreover, indiscriminate granary openings reward the undeserving; reckless pardons encourage crime. Rewarding idleness breeds opportunism (like hoping for more lost hats), while unpunished offenses foster audacity in wrongdoing. These become seeds of chaos—how could they ever cleanse shame?

Long ago, King Wen of Zhou provoked King Zhou’s wrath by seizing Meng, conquering Ju, and occupying Feng. Fearful, Wen offered a thousand fertile miles west of the Luo River to abolish the "roasting pillar" torture—a cruel execution method where victims were burned on bronze columns—delighting all under heaven. Confucius later praised: "How benevolent! To sacrifice vast lands ending cruel punishment; how wise! Though losing territory, winning the people’s hearts."

(Note: The "roasting pillar" (炮烙) was King Zhou of Shang’s invention—a red-hot bronze column for torturing prisoners to death.)

Some question whether Confucius overpraised King Wen of Zhou. A true sage should foresee calamities and avoid them to preserve himself. When King Wen incurred King Zhou of Shang's suspicion—if it was due to losing popular support, winning back the people could have dispelled the tyrant's hostility. Yet King Zhou hated him precisely because he had the people's hearts, and King Wen continued to court their favor, only deepening the king's distrust. This ultimately led to his imprisonment at Youli. As the Daoist figure Zheng Zhangzi observed, those who embody the Dao (the Way) should practice Wuwei (non-action) and remain inconspicuous—this was the strategy King Wen should have adopted to avoid suspicion. Confucius praised King Wen's wisdom but overlooked this critical point.

Duke Ping of Jin asked Shu Xiang: "When Duke Huan of Qi convened the feudal lords nine times to restore order to the realm, was this the achievement of his ministers?" Shu Xiang replied: "It’s like tailoring a garment. Guan Zhong excelled at cutting (policy-making), Bin Xuwu at sewing (policy adjustment), and Xi Peng at hemming (refining details). Once the robe was finished, the ruler wore it—indeed, it was the ministers' labor. What credit belonged to the ruler?" Hearing this, the court musician Shi Kuang set aside his zither and laughed. When the duke asked why, Shi Kuang said: "I laugh at Shu Xiang’s answer. Ministers are like chefs seasoning dishes for their lord. If the lord refuses to eat, who can force him? Consider this: the ruler is the soil, the ministers the plants. Only when the land is fertile can the vegetation thrive. This is the ruler’s power—what have the ministers contributed?"

Commentators note both Shu Xiang and Shi Kuang’s views are one-sided. Great deeds like restoring order and uniting the lords rely neither solely on the ruler nor the ministers alone. In the past, Gong Zhiqi in Yu and Xi Fuji in Cao—both wise ministers—offered sound advice, yet their states fell. This shows the futility of capable ministers without enlightened rulers. When Jian Shu served Yu, Yu perished; when he went to Qin, Qin rose to hegemony. It wasn’t that Jian Shu suddenly grew wiser—he simply found a discerning lord. Thus, crediting "all to the ministers" is wrong. Addendum: Duke Huan once established two markets in his palace (the "women’s quarters," alluding to brothels), where palace maids let down their hair and sold their charms (symbolizing political disorder)...

This passage recounts the story of Duke Huan of Qi and Guan Zhong, exploring how the ruler-minister relationship affects a state's prosperity or decline.

When Duke Huan of Qi had Guan Zhong's assistance, he became the foremost of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period. But after losing Guan Zhong and employing Shu Diao (a treacherous minister), his corpse was left to rot without proper burial after his death. This illustrates that a state's strength does not rely solely on the minister's ability or the ruler's talent alone. Duke Wen of Jin, for instance, once became so infatuated with a woman from Qi that he refused to return to his own state. It was only due to the forceful remonstrations of his uncle Fan that he went back and achieved hegemony.

Master Kuang (a renowned musician of the time) attributed these successes entirely to the rulers' merits. However, Han Feizi pointed out that all Five Hegemons who achieved fame and accomplishment in the world did so through the joint efforts of both ruler and minister. Thus, the views of Shu Xiang and Master Kuang were too one-sided.

The text records an amusing anecdote: When a foreign envoy visited, officials sought Duke Huan's guidance three times on ceremonial protocol, and each time he replied, "Ask Zhongfu (Guan Zhong)." A court jester mocked him, saying, "Being a ruler is so easy—all you do is say 'Zhongfu, Zhongfu' all day!" Duke Huan explained, "I’ve heard that the difficulty of rulership lies in finding talent; once found, employing them becomes effortless. It was no small feat for me to obtain Guan Zhong, so of course, things became easier afterward."

But Han Feizi criticized this reasoning: Duke Huan was mistaken. Finding talent is not difficult—figures like Yi Yin (the celebrated minister of Shang) voluntarily worked as a cook to approach Tang of Shang, and Bai Lixi (a distinguished Qin statesman) deliberately became a prisoner to gain access to Duke Mu of Qin. Truly worthy men actively seek opportunities to serve enlightened rulers. A ruler need only refrain from rejecting talent; by establishing proper offices and ranks, capable individuals will naturally come forward. Why exhaust oneself searching?

Moreover, employing talent is not effortless. A ruler must govern according to laws and standards, scrutinizing whether words match deeds, and ensuring rewards and punishments are justly administered. Thus, Duke Huan’s claim that "finding talent is hard, but employing them is easy" was incorrect. In truth, Duke Huan did not struggle to obtain Guan Zhong, nor was Guan Zhong’s service to him particularly difficult.

This passage primarily discusses the historical account of Guan Zhong assisting Duke Huan of Qi, exploring the principles of how rulers should employ capable individuals.

Minister Bao Shuya modestly downplayed his own official position and proactively recommended the more talented Guan Zhong to serve Duke Huan. For Duke Huan, obtaining a virtuous minister like Guan Zhong wasn't particularly difficult—the true challenge lay in how to properly employ him afterward. Guan Zhong was no Duke of Zhou (a founding minister of the Zhou dynasty), who had governed as regent for seven years before dutifully returning power to the adult King Cheng of Zhou, thus exemplifying proper ministerial conduct.

The analysis continues: A person who wouldn't betray a deceased ruler to serve their enemy would never lightly depose a sovereign; conversely, one who easily betrays former masters would just as readily usurp authority. Guan Zhong had originally served Prince Jiu (Duke Huan's political rival) and even plotted to assassinate Duke Huan, yet later switched allegiance to serve him—conduct entirely unlike that of the Duke of Zhou.

The author presents two hypothetical scenarios: If Guan Zhong had been a virtuous minister like Tang of Shang or King Wu of Zhou, then Duke Huan's tyrannical posturing above him (like the infamous tyrants Jie and Zhou) would have been dangerous. Conversely, if Guan Zhong had been a treacherous minister like Tian Chang (who murdered his ruler), then Duke Huan's casual treatment of him (like the ill-fated Duke Jian of Qi) would have been equally perilous. This illustrates how Duke Huan's position became subtly precarious after obtaining his "Second Father" Guan Zhong.

The conclusion observes that while Duke Huan knew Guan Zhong wouldn't deceive his ruler, his excessive trust led him later to employ corrupt ministers like Shu Diao and Yi Ya, resulting in his corpse lying neglected with maggots after death. This proves Duke Huan fundamentally couldn't distinguish which ministers would betray him and which wouldn't, marking him as a fatally incompetent ruler.

The passage further cites the example of Li Dui governing Zhongshan: When the magistrate of Kuxing County reported unusually increased revenues, Li Dui pointed out that unjustified surplus income constituted "ill-gotten wealth" (tiao huo), which virtuous persons should never accept—whereupon he dismissed the magistrate.

This passage originates from Han Feizi, primarily discussing principles of state governance and wealth accumulation. It begins by critiquing a particular viewpoint: a certain Master Li argued that if debates and arguments do not align with righteousness (Dao), they are mere empty words. Han Feizi refutes this, stating that the validity of an argument does not depend on whether the listener is petty or noble, for petty people do not understand righteousness, while noble people understand it but will not blindly agree. The claim that arguments not aligned with righteousness are insincere is as absurd as considering abundant income to be illusory wealth.

The text then elaborates on methods to increase state revenue: actions must follow the natural order, farming must adhere to seasonal cycles, avoiding errors of premature or delayed planting and the disasters of extreme weather. When men focus on farming and women diligently weave, income naturally multiplies. One must also understand animal husbandry, raising livestock and cultivating grains according to land conditions. Skillful calculation and leveraging terrain and mechanical tools yield great results with minimal effort. Developing commerce and transportation facilitates the flow of goods between regions, attracting foreign merchants. Frugality in expenditures, avoiding extravagance and indulgence, further increases revenue. All these are achievements of human effort. If favorable weather conditions are added, even without expanding land, bountiful harvests can be achieved.

Finally, the story of Zhao Jianzi attacking Wei illustrates the point: Zhao Jianzi used rhinoceros hide for shields in the siege, but when he beat the drum, his soldiers did not advance. He complained about their sluggishness. His advisor Zhu Guo pointed out that the problem lay with the ruler himself, not the soldiers. This metaphor suggests that poor governance requires self-reflection by the ruler, not blame on the people. The entire passage emphasizes that governing a state relies on correct methods and human effort. Wealth accumulation cannot be simplistically attributed to natural advantages, nor can responsibility be evaded.

This passage examines the principles of employing people through the examples of several rulers of the Jin State. Duke Xian of Jin annexed seventeen states, conquered thirty-eight, and won twelve victorious battles by skillfully harnessing the strength of his people. When Duke Hui succeeded to the throne, his indulgence in sensual pleasures and tyrannical misrule led to Qin's invasion and the loss of seventeen li of territory—this too was a consequence of his approach to employing people. Upon Duke Wen's ascension, he besieged the State of Wei, captured the city of Ye, defeated Chu five times at the Battle of Chengpu, and achieved hegemony over the realm—all manifestations of his effective personnel management.

Zhao Jianzi (a Jin minister), during a military campaign, removed his shield and stood where arrows and stones could reach him, beating the drum to inspire his troops. After a great victory, he exclaimed, "Rather than acquiring a thousand chariots, I would rather heed a single remonstrance from the diplomat Zhu Guo." However, someone countered that Zhu Guo had merely cited the examples of Duke Hui's defeat due to poor personnel choices and Duke Wen's rise to dominance through proper employment, without specifying concrete methods for managing people.

The author further analyzes: Truly filial children are one in a hundred—it is unrealistic to expect soldiers to risk their lives in battle as dutiful sons would to save their parents. Human nature universally seeks benefit and avoids harm. With clear rewards and punishments—generous rewards that are reliably granted, soldiers will not fear the enemy; severe penalties that are invariably enforced, soldiers will not dare to flee. Leading the masses cannot rely on the filial piety achievable by only a few but must leverage the universal patterns of human nature. In truth, Zhu Guo did not understand the correct method for governing multitudes.

The core argument is: Governing a state and commanding an army must be based on the universal principle that "human nature favors profit and abhors harm," mobilizing people through a rigorous system of rewards and punishments rather than depending on the moral virtues of a select few.