《抱朴子外篇》Vol. 35

Among my acquaintances was a recluse known as Master Qianju, who admired the lofty spirit of the ancient hermit Qinqiu (a legendary barren land no one coveted). He deliberately chose an infertile plot to build his dwelling, devoting himself entirely to literary pursuits while completely neglecting farming. Years of poor harvests left him gaunt with hunger, prompting someone to question him: "Understanding ritual propriety requires full granaries, and widespread benevolence depends on abundant wealth. Only the affluent can be generous, while the poor must practice frugality. Thus the Book of Odes praises fortunes of ten thousand coins, and the Book of Documents lists grain as first among the eight governmental priorities. Personal cultivation was the foundation of Zhou dynasty statecraft, while paired plowing (ancient cooperative farming) held timeless joy. A true extraordinary scholar should soar like a swan when serving in office, and emulate Tao Zhugong (Fan Li) or Bai Gui (ancient merchant sages) in managing wealth when retired. In governance one should achieve hegemonic success, at home amass a fortune of thousand gold. The ancients always sought fertile lands for profit, diligently tilling to make bean sprouts flourish and vegetables tender, filling granaries with harvested wheat and storing grains by the hundreds of millions. They rode out hunting, then returned wearing noble robes to feast. Yet you dwell here where dust swirls in drought and floods engulf hills in rain, where dry fields bear no crops and paddies yield no rice. Your granaries stand empty, your kitchen lacks firewood. Still you stubbornly cling to your 'wait-by-the-stump-for-hares' mentality, unmoved by considerations of staying or leaving. I foresee the starvation of Bo Yi and Shu Qi on Shouyang Mountain repeating today, with Dan Zhu's (the unworthy son of Emperor Yao) predicament imminent. Others grow anxious for you—why remain so calmly unconcerned? Failing to act when opportunity arises shows lack of wisdom; complacency marks the common man's nature. Does savoring salted fish make one forget orchids? Can the profoundly deluded change their essence? Why does the Master persist unawakened? I am truly perplexed."

Master Qianju replied: "One cannot demand tone-discrimination from the deaf, nor force the blind to distinguish colors. A frog at the bottom of a well cannot comprehend the ocean, nor can vulgar minds grasp the great Dao of classical learning. You recognize only the trivial skills of old farmers, remaining ignorant of the profound realm attained through facing-the-wall austerity. This is like gathering sand while discarding jade." (Note: Here "facing-the-wall" metaphorically represents intense scholarly devotion, synonymous with "facing-the-cliff"; "trivial sand" contrasts with "massive jade," subtly contrasting worldly gains with spiritual pursuit.)

To discard jade and pearls in pursuit of faint candlelight is to turn one's back on the bright sun. Human preferences cannot be measured by a single standard, nor should one's choices be altered by others' criteria. Those who aspire to ride the wind and ascend the Kunlun Immortal Realm will not linger on small hills; those determined to roam the Southern Seas and cross vast oceans have no leisure to frolic in shallow puddles. One engrossed in listening to the ancient "Nine Shao" music finds no pleasure in rustic folk tunes; those accustomed to the grand "Tai Lao" feasts cannot be satisfied with bitter wild herbs.

When the giant Kun fish transforms into the Peng bird and soars to the heavens, the wagtail happily hops among the weeds—their realms of flight are fundamentally different. Life is fleeting: the morning mushroom knows neither the last day nor the first day of the month; mayflies are born at dawn and die by dusk; the wild horses (springtime's floating Yang Qi) cease only by the sixth month, while small fish splash their scales in shallow waters as divine dragons dive to unfathomable depths. Human paths diverge—how can we demand uniformity? Though I dine on coarse wild vegetable soup, my contentment surpasses those feasting at bronze tripods. Liezi never coveted Zheng's official salary despite his poverty, nor did Zeng Shen envy the wealth of Jin and Chu in his destitution.

To salvage subtle truths on the verge of being lost is to emulate the foresight of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius; to scramble after profit with restless urgency makes one what Mencius called "a transgressor." A traveler cannot walk two diverging roads simultaneously, nor can a practical man till fields while pursuing scholarship. Though the body toils, the spirit rests at ease—why fret over material want? Barren lands foster diligence, and diligence naturally nurtures frugal virtue; fertile regions breed complacency, and complacency spawns extravagance. Frugality is where blessings gather, while extravagance heralds calamity's approach—when fortune converges, the faint becomes vivid, and decline revives; when disaster strikes, the mighty weaken, and the living perish. These patterns arrive unbidden and unsummoned.

Thus, the noble person rectifies branches by first correcting the roots and dams the river at its source. When virtuous deeds are established, the gates of extravagance close of their own accord. Jiang Taigong's lofty De (Virtue/Power) made people disregard land rents, and Emperor Shun's sage brilliance inspired fishermen to voluntarily reduce their nets. Hence the jade huang tablet proclaimed auspiciousness at Yingqiu, and his great achievements blessed twenty generations. Why measure others by slothful standards or judge talent by physiognomy? When dividing wealth, taking the lesser portion is integrity—I now relinquish the world's abundance to dwell content in this humble corner.

He who dwells content in a humble abode understands true satisfaction better than one who inhabits a northern mansion yet remains insatiable. All things follow their inherent principle of existence—why then chase restlessly after what cannot fulfill? The North Star, by maintaining its constant position, becomes sovereign among celestial bodies; the Five Sacred Peaks (Mount Tai, Hua, and others), through their immovable majesty, are revered as ancestors of all mountains. The cricket that frequently changes its burrow loses value, while beasts and birds courting danger by coveting deep waters meet peril.

Now we prepare to cultivate the wilderness of ancient texts, sowing seeds of six virtues—humanity, righteousness, and others. Such fertile mind-field surpasses the highest grade of earthly soil, yielding harvests that fill heaven and earth. Why cling stubbornly to physical fields alone? In antiquity, Bei Yi abandoned wealth to stop theft, Yu Gong refused jade to curb greed, Shu Guang dispersed his fortune to avert calamity for descendants, and Sunshu Ao deliberately chose barren land to quell desire's torment. Niu Que invited bandits by flaunting treasures, while Tao Gu brought disaster through excessive hoarding. These contrasts between gain and loss stand so clearly—do they not serve as potent warnings?

Hearing this, the questioner bowed his head in prolonged silence, lips parted yet wordless, unable to raise his lowered gaze. At last he sighed deeply: "Now I understand—those who leave immortal words never let household possessions disturb their minds, just as devoted scholars never glance distractedly at courtyard gardens. To lure phoenixes with rotting insects or trap tigers with crab-catching tricks—is this not profoundly shallow? Alas, that I should comprehend this truth only now."