《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 19

I have a friend named Master Juling, whose temperament is serene and unassuming. Outwardly plain without deliberate adornment to deceive the foolish, inwardly free from utilitarian motives, he immerses himself in ancient classics (referring to texts like the Sanfen and Wudian), finding joy in them and forgetting worldly worries. By day, he chases the last rays of the sun (Xihe, the sun deity), and by night, he bathes in the gentle light of the moon (Wangshu, the moon deity). No matter how profound the principle, he delves into it; no matter how subtle the discourse, he scrutinizes it. Yet his footsteps never tread the thresholds of the powerful, nor do his letters reach the hands of high officials. Thus, his reputation remains confined to his humble cottage, and he never strays from the fields throughout his life.

A certain official named Yiliang once said to him: "I have heard that when the dragon (yuanpan) lurking in the deep abyss rises, auspicious clouds follow, and when moral teachings spread widely, talents emerge. Thus, folk songs (jiaoge) can be heard on the broad roads, and extraordinary individuals can be found among the feasting elite. With recognition, one may obtain priceless treasures; with opportunity, one may realize soaring ambitions. Let your radiance illuminate the land of the rising sun (Yang Valley), and let your fame spread across the Nine Provinces. Achievements will be credited to you, and your name will endure for ages. Yet if you refuse to take the short path right before you, even the swiftest feet chasing the wind will not reach the destination; if you will not move under the low eaves, even the wings of the great roc (hongkun) cannot take flight. How much less when your feet are buried in the wilderness and your wings folded on the shadowy branches of the phoenix tree—how can you swiftly chase light and shadow or soar into the azure sky?

"Human life is fleeting, and worldly splendor vanishes in an instant. The wise, stepping on frost, know that solid ice is coming; observing the beginning, they understand that all things must end. The six dragons (referring to the sun) hasten through chaos, and youthful hair turns gray in a blink—thus the ancients sighed at the flowing river and grieved at the white steed galloping past a crack. You, sir, possess extraordinary talent, a mind surpassing the mundane, thoughts surging like waves, and wisdom unfathomably deep. Yet you cannot ride the whirlwind (fuyao) to ascend the heavens and display your noble character among the Nine Heavens. A fine vessel (hugui, ritual objects) not displayed in the ancestral temple must still endure the toil of gathering firewood, like performing refined music for the deaf or selling ceremonial caps (zhangfu) among barbarians with disheveled hair. In vain, you lose yourself in the sea of books (Hanlin), stubbornly pursuing abstruse principles, cradling virtue as precious as jade (wanyan), your brush flowing with pearls of writing—yet your body remains trapped in poverty, your spirit exhausted in obstinate purity."

This passage employs a series of vivid metaphors to illustrate the regret of unrecognized talent. Burying precious jade underground or locking exquisite brocade in layered chests renders even the finest treasures worthless when undiscovered. A thousand-mile steed tethered becomes no different from a lame donkey, and a treasured sword concealed might as well be made of lead. A giant fish won’t linger in a hoofprint-sized puddle, nor will the mighty roc perch among lowly shrubs.

The author advises: "I hope you’ll emerge from your hermit’s cave (the ‘dragon-snake den’ symbolizes seclusion) and step onto the path where your talents can shine. Recognize how fleeting life is—like two mice gnawing a rope (a Buddhist analogy for life’s fragility). Leave the secluded valley, scale the heights, and transcend simple living for higher pursuits. Spread your wings with the morning wind; don’t delay until nightfall. Seek noble reputation and status, savor the luxury of bell-and-cauldron feasts—why envy Bo Yi and Shu Qi (reclusive nobles who foraged wild herbs) in their poverty?"

Master Ling replies: "I’ve heard the mysteries of heaven and earth are profound—fortune and misfortune intertwine, prosperity and decline alternate. No matter how fast you run, your shadow follows; no success escapes the law of decline after zenith. Rather than drift with worldly currents, preserve your true nature; instead of mending what’s broken, return to primal simplicity. Those who understand flexion and extension know retreat prepares for advance; those who see life’s impermanence remain unmoved by circumstance.

Heaven and earth nurture all things, each with unique traits: some thrive in bustle, others in tranquility; gold is valued for weight, feathers prized for lightness. The narrow-minded are bound by filth; the enlightened roam freely in mystic purity. A puddle overflows with scant rain, yet the ocean welcomes all rivers without complaint. Minnows frolic in muddy ponds while crimson dragons soar the nine heavens. Those lured by bait perish; those savoring simplicity harmonize with nature. The wise discern omens in the formless, while the ignorant face danger unawares. All things find their place—why alter innate nature?"

A final cascade of metaphors underscores timing’s importance: "Jade won’t leap unaided from mountains; the tengshe (flying serpent) needs clouds to ascend. The Dragon Spring sword cannot fell rhinos without a wielder; great bells stay silent until struck. Golden mushrooms gleam only in autumn winds, and orioles sing solely in spring. Noble steeds don’t recklessly gallop; gentlemen err not for fame. When fortune wanes, withdraw with grace—this is the way of the world."

This passage discusses the attitude and wisdom of noble individuals in navigating life. Those with true virtue (De) do not deliberately flaunt themselves—just as scholars appear noble by not boasting of their talents, and women appear chaste by not promoting themselves. Why must one imitate Xu You's ostentatious act of washing his ears (legend has it he cleansed them after Emperor Yao offered him the throne, deeming the proposal defiling), or replicate Yi Yin's showy approach of carrying his cooking pot to seek audience with King Tang of Shang?

Human circumstances alternate between adversity and prosperity: Emperor Shun once toiled in the fields, Fan Ju suffered the humiliation of being confined in a bamboo cage, and Hong Shi (a recluse of the Eastern Han) lived in seclusion farming. Yet in times of success, Han Xin rose from a humble fisherman to become a marquis, Wen Zhong exchanged straw sandals for official robes, Fu Yue ascended from wall-builder to prime minister, and Guan Zhong transformed from prisoner to high minister. This teaches us that noble individuals must cultivate their talents while awaiting opportunity and nurture their virtue (De) for future action—remaining concealed when the time is inopportune, and refusing service to unenlightened rulers.

Whether in adversity or prosperity, one should maintain equanimity: as a recluse, becoming a model of eremitic life; in office, setting the standard for all officials. Some establish their legacy through writings, others through meritorious deeds—the methods differ, but the principle remains constant. Scholars may accomplish praiseworthy deeds, yet should never demand worldly recognition; they may possess employable talents, yet must not insist on public appointment. Wearing coarse hemp and dining on wild greens, fishing and hunting—they remain content. Donning official robes and riding in carriages—they preserve their inner peace. This is the magnanimity of the perfected person (Zhiren).

If jade goes unrecognized or a phoenix is mistaken for a common bird, the fault lies not with me. Those who anxiously chase fame or wallow in frustration embody worldly frailties, while those who cultivate the vast Qi of the Dao and embrace serene detachment attain transcendent states. When the moment arrives, aspirations will naturally unfold—the truly enlightened harbor no anxieties. As for haggling over trivial gains like trading priceless treasures for meager sums? Such petty calculations are beneath contempt.

(Note: "Wearing coarse hemp and dining on wild greens" symbolizes humble circumstances, while "donning official robes and riding carriages" represents prosperity—both metaphors for life's fluctuating fortunes.)