《意林》Vol. 4

Book 4 of the Yilin Anthology, compiled by Ma Zong during the Tang Dynasty, contains excerpts from the Customs and Traditions (Fengsu Tong) written by Ying Shao of the Eastern Han Dynasty.

The text explains "customs" (fengsu) as follows: "Feng" refers to natural climatic variations of cold and warmth, rugged or gentle terrain, the quality of water sources, and the resilient or delicate nature of vegetation; while "su" denotes the living habits people develop under these environmental influences. Regional customs varied greatly, and during the Zhou and Qin periods, imperial envoys were often dispatched to collect local dialects and folk songs, which were then stored in the palace archives. Unfortunately, most of these records were lost during the fall of the Qin Dynasty, though later scholars like Yan Junping and Yang Xiong attempted to reconstruct and supplement them.

The text also interprets the titles of ancient sage-kings: Shennong ("Divine Farmer") signifies sacred sincerity and agricultural virtue; the Five Emperors (Huangdi, Zhuanxu, Diku, Yao, and Shun) each bore meaningful titles—for instance, "Huang" (Yellow) represents radiance, while "Shun" denotes the capacity to inherit Yao's virtuous governance. Similarly, the Three Sovereigns (Yu of Xia, Tang of Shang, and King Wu of Zhou) carried symbolic names—"Tang" signifies prosperity, and "Wang" (King) reflects popular support. The "Ba" title of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period (Duke Huan of Qi, Duke Wen of Jin, etc.) indicates both leadership status and implicit control over imperial authority.

On governance, it proposes that local officials should not be replaced frequently. Citing the Shangshu's evaluation system and Confucius' principle that "three years are needed to achieve results," the text argues that even capable administrators like Zichan required time to demonstrate effectiveness, and frequent rotations would only cause administrative chaos.

Regarding slavery: ancient times originally had no slaves (nu) or maidservants (bi); these emerged later when offenders were demoted—"nu" for the recalcitrant and "bi" for the lowly. A folk saying warns that delayed justice breeds resentment among the people, noting that even in peaceful eras, wise officials faced complaints when adjudicating cases, let alone during turbulent times. This passage reflects Ying Shao's lament about social conditions during the Three Kingdoms period.

Finally, it mentions that Emperor Guangwu transported two thousand cartloads of bamboo and silk texts when relocating the capital to Luoyang, but these classics were largely destroyed during Dong Zhuo's rebellion.

This passage records various folk legends and critical examinations from the Eastern Han period, which I will explain section by section:

Regarding the accounts of Qin Shi Huang's burning of books and burying scholars alive, it's said that when the imperial family moved westward, they hastily transported seventy cartloads of books. Heavy rain during the journey destroyed most of them, and the remaining texts were later completely burned, nearly causing the Dao of the ancient kings to be lost forever.

Concerning the meaning of "a thousand gold," common folk believed it referred to actual gold. However, according to The Art of War by Sunzi, "spending a thousand gold" actually meant a million coins. Historical records show that when Chen Ping used "a thousand gold" to sow discord in Chu State, and when "fifty jin of gold" was awarded to the two Shu officials, these indeed referred to real gold. There's also a theory that "one gold" equaled ten thousand coins.

Common people believed that giving birth to twins would harm the parents, just as livestock producing multiple offspring would weaken the mother. But the Guoyu chronicles of the Spring and Autumn period record that during King Goujian of Yue's reign, the state encouraged childbirth—providing grain for twins and even wet nurses for triplets. Ultimately, Yue grew strong and conquered Wu, proving no actual harm existed.

There was a taboo against children being born in the same month as their fathers, believed to create conflict. Yet the Zuo Zhuan records Duke Huan of Lu's son being born in the same month and named "Zitong" (Same Child). Similarly, Emperor Ming of Han shared a birth month with Emperor Guangwu without any ill omens.

Folklore held that women giving birth at their parental home would bring misfortune. In truth, this custom aimed to prevent mothers from secretly substituting female infants for others' male babies, hence the prohibition.

Regarding legends about the Fengshan sacrifices at Mount Tai, people believed golden caskets and jade tablets there could predict lifespan. Legend says Emperor Wu of Han received a prophecy of "eighteen" but deliberately read it backward as "eighty." Actually, during Fengshan ceremonies, stone tablets were erected inscribed with records of achievements. As Emperor Wu was already forty-seven, he couldn't possibly gain eighteen more years—the backward reading tale is pure fabrication. The author, having served six years at Eastern Peak and consulted elders during numerous sacrifices, confirmed no golden caskets or jade registers existed.

About the legends of Dongfang Shuo: some claimed he was an incarnation of the Venus star (Taibai Jinxing), appearing as Feng Hou during Huangdi's reign, Wu Chengzi during Yao's time, then later reincarnating as Fan Li of Yue and Chiyizi of Qi. In reality, Dongfang Shuo was merely a master of wit—these myths were later embellishments.

Finally, the story of Yuan Yuanfu, Chancellor of Pengcheng: his father Bo Chu conceived him during mourning rites, reasoning that "of the three unfilial acts, having no heir is greatest." He openly acknowledged this. As noble men don't conceal faults, he named his son "Fu" (meaning "to submit") as a permanent reminder.

This passage recounts several stories from the Rǔnán region, each reflecting the ancient people's emphasis on ethical virtues.

The first story concerns the family of Wáng Hè (courtesy name Yuánfú). When his grandfather Wáng Jīng served as Palace Attendant during Emperor Ān of Hàn's capping ceremony (yuánfú refers to the coming-of-age ritual for men), all officials came to offer congratulations. At this auspicious moment, Wáng Hè was born, and his family considered the timing so propitious that they named him "Hè" (Celebration). His father Wáng Bóchǔ had governed three commanderies but remained unmarried after his wife's early death. On his deathbed, he instructed his son: "Bury me simply without transporting my coffin back to our hometown. If the dead retain consciousness, travel poses no difficulty; if not, moving the coffin merely creates unnecessary trouble." How could such an upright family possibly name a child "Celebration" during mourning?

The second story involves Wáng Shūhàn and his son. When Wáng's son Zǐfāng failed to return after twenty years abroad, rumors spread of his death in Rǔnán. The court dispatched Zǐfāng's elder brother Bó Sān to retrieve the remains. After holding mourning rites and receiving 200,000 coins in funeral subsidies from the emperor, Wáng Shūhàn was astonished when Zǐfāng returned from Cāngwú. He immediately petitioned the throne to return the funds and accept punishment for deception. Emperor Líng convened his ministers, where scholar Rén Mǐn argued: "By convention, seventy years constitutes middle age. Since Zǐfāng and his father were contemporaries, verifying distant death rumors was impossible—no crime occurred." The emperor ultimately reclaimed the money but restored Wáng's position.

The third case describes Zhāng Miào drunkenly binding Dù Shì during horseplay, striking him twenty times and suspending him by his toes—resulting in death. Magistrate Bào Yù ruled: "This was alcohol-fueled amusement without harmful intent, warranting reduced punishment."

The final tale tells of Zhōu Wēngzhòng's wife secretly exchanging their newborn daughter for a butcher's son. Years later, as Governor of Běihǎi, Zhōu sent clairvoyant secretary Zhōu Guāng with the boy to ancestral rites. The secretary reported seeing only a ragged butcher's son cutting meat at the graves, while a blue-robed official lingered outside the shrine. Confronted with his sword, Zhōu's wife confessed. Zhōu declared: "We raise sons to continue ancestral sacrifices. If our ancestors reject him, what purpose does he serve?" Returning the boy, they reclaimed their daughter, who later married pastry-seller Lǐ Wénsī—eventually becoming Nányáng's Governor. This proves spirits won't accept sacrifices from non-lineal descendants—how could raising another's child be proper?

These narratives collectively illustrate Hàn dynasty values: the sanctity of bloodline continuity, ancestral veneration, and solemn attitudes toward life and death.

In Chenliu, a ninety-year-old wealthy man had no son until he married a woman from the Tian family. After spending one night together, the old man passed away, and the woman later gave birth to a boy. When the child grew up, the Tian woman claimed, "My husband only spent one night with me before his death—this boy cannot possibly be his son." A legal dispute over the inheritance lasted for years. Chancellor Bing Ji ruled: "The old man's son casts no shadow and fears the cold." It was the eighth lunar month at the time. When several children of the same age were stripped naked for comparison, the old man's son indeed cried from the cold and cast no shadow in sunlight. The inheritance was ultimately awarded to him.

In Yingchuan, two brothers lived together, and both their wives became pregnant. The elder sister-in-law suffered a miscarriage months later but concealed it. When the time came, both women entered the birthing chamber together. The younger sister-in-law gave birth to a boy, who was stolen by the elder sister-in-law at night. The dispute dragged on for three years without resolution. Chancellor Huang Ba had the two mothers stand ten paces apart in front of the hall and ordered them to compete for the child. The elder sister-in-law pulled violently, making the child cry, while the younger sister-in-law, fearing harm to the child, let go. The elder sister-in-law looked triumphant, while the younger one was heartbroken. Huang Ba declared, "This is the younger sister-in-law’s child." After interrogation, the elder sister-in-law confessed.

In Linhuai, a man took a bolt of fine silk to the market. When it rained, he draped it over himself. Another man asked to share part of it for shelter. After the rain stopped, the two quarreled over ownership. Chancellor Xuan Xue ruled, "A bolt of silk is worth a few hundred coins—why fight over it?" He cut the silk in half and gave each a portion. Secretly observing, he noticed the true owner protested bitterly while the other man was pleased. Upon learning the truth, Xuan Xue interrogated the latter, who then admitted his guilt.

The Duke of Zhou (founding minister of the Zhou dynasty) composed a musical piece called Shao, symbolizing the careful transmission of ancestral wisdom; King Wu (founder of the Zhou dynasty) created Wu, celebrating military triumph; Emperor Shun’s piece was Shao, signifying the continuation of Emperor Yao’s legacy; Emperor Yao’s Dazhang ("Great Manifestation") glorified virtue; and Emperor Ku (one of the Five Legendary Emperors) composed Wuying ("Five Splendors"), with ying denoting brilliance. Scholar Liu Xiang of the Han dynasty interpreted the musical modes: the shang mode represents the maturity of all things; the jue mode embodies the sprouting of plants; the gong mode embodies harmony; the zhi mode signifies flourishing; and the yu mode conveys inclusiveness. Hearing the gong mode fosters kindness and generosity, the shang mode inspires integrity and righteousness, the jue mode instills ritual propriety, the zhi mode awakens compassion, and the yu mode encourages benevolence.

The pipa is a modern instrument created by musicians, though its exact inventor is unknown. Its name derives from the plucking (piba) motion of the fingers. The body measures three and a half chi in length...

This passage elucidates the origins and meanings behind various ancient honorifics, drawing upon multiple classical texts to reveal their cultural significance.

The measurement "three chi five cun" symbolizes the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humanity) and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), while the number "four" represents the four seasons. The Yi Jing (Book of Changes) uses the terms "great man" and "sage" interchangeably.

Regarding the title "elder" (zhangzhe), the Liji (Book of Rites) states that when five people sit together, the eldest should occupy a separate mat. However, it's incorrect to use this term for the powerful today. The Guanzi records how teachers impart knowledge while students emulate them—thus "teacher" (xiansheng) resembles a sober person, while learners resemble those intoxicated.

The title "libationer" (jijiu) originates from the ritual where the most honored person receives the first drink. When Xunzi (Master Xun) was in Qi state, he was so revered that he was thrice honored as libationer. Scholars were categorized differently: Yin scholars (Shang dynasty descendants) were quick-witted, mao scholars were talented and handsome, refined scholars were erudite, martyrs maintained moral integrity, and reclusive scholars withdrew from public life.

The term "husband" (zhangfu): The Yi Jing states "the army's steadfastness brings good fortune to the elder," referring not just to age but virtue. The Liji explains "zhang" (ten feet) represents adult height, while "fu" (skin) symbolizes wisdom and teaching ability.

"Common man and woman" (pifu pifu): Ancient clothing required two bolts of fabric (now one), hence "pi." Marriage unites genders as day and night form a complete day.

"Vulgar people" (suren) refuse to adapt or learn from goodness. "Unworthy" (buxiao) originally meant children unlike parents, now used modestly. "Rogue" (wulai) describes idle, unreliable persons—Emperor Gaozu of Han once called himself thus to his father.

Finally, it mentions Situ Zhu Tian (courtesy name Boxiu) falling ill en route to imperial summons. His friend Xie Zhu (magistrate of Ye County) refused him shelter. Staying at a Ji County inn for six days, his students saw his condition worsening....

This passage contains multiple historical anecdotes and records, summarized in modern vernacular as follows:

The story of Ying Rong aiding his friend: Someone wanted to report a friend to the magistrate of Jixian County. Ying Rong (courtesy name Boxiu) advised: "If you can't even tolerate a friend, what's the use of reporting to a magistrate you don't know? Life and death are fated—there's no need to seek medical treatment." Later when Ying Rong fell seriously ill, the magistrate personally visited him in tears, saying: "Boxiu is a rare talent of our age who should serve the state—how can he die unnoticed in a guesthouse?" He then took Ying Rong home to care for him. After recovery, the magistrate prepared funeral items in advance as a gesture of concern. Ying Rong eventually rose to high offices like Palace Attendant and Imperial Secretary, later recommending this magistrate as his successor.

Discussion on naming taboos: Zhang Zijiao, a Filial and Incorrupt candidate from Pengcheng, proposed that rulers' and ministers' names shouldn't overlap. He cited examples: King Mu of Zhou was named "Man," yet during King Ding's reign there was a royal descendant called Wangsun Man; King Li of Zhou was named "Hu," while King Zhuang's son was also named Hu.

Folklore about official appointments: A saying claimed "Officials assuming posts in May will never get promoted." Yet records show someone became Xiaoxian County magistrate in May and later advanced to Wuling magistrate. The author himself, while serving as Yingling County magistrate, ignored his clerk's suggestion to work facing northeast—and was promoted to Taishan Governor within five months.

Records of wind and rain deity worship: The Songs of Chu names the wind god Feilian. The Rites of Zhou prescribes wind worship toward the Ji constellation (one of the 28 lunar mansions), conducted northwest on Bingxu days. The rain god corresponds to the Bi constellation, worshipped northeast on Jichou days. Since water is supreme in the water-earth relationship, it's respectfully called "Master."

Fashion trends during Emperor Huan of Han: Capital women popularized "sorrow eyebrows" (thin, curved brows), "tear makeup" (powder below eyes resembling tears), "fallen-horse chignons" (sideways hairstyles), "broken-waist walks" (hip-swaying gait), and "toothache smiles"—all trends originating from the powerful Liang family. The text notes how Warring States rulers' aesthetics influenced commoners: The King of Zhao favored thick brows, so people painted brows covering half their foreheads; the King of Chu preferred wide collars, so collars became enormous; the King of Qi liked slender waists, leading to palace women starving to death. The capital also embraced foreign styles like Hu clothing and tents.

This passage primarily documents several historical anecdotes and etymological explanations from the late Eastern Han period:

It records how during Dong Zhuo's reign, northern nomadic tribes (referred to as "Hu people") flooded into the Central Plains. Hu soldiers filled the capital, and their musical instruments (like konghou harps and flutes) along with dances became wildly popular.

Emperor Ling of Han enjoyed personally driving a chariot pulled by four white camels during his excursions in the Western Garden, causing high officials to imitate him. This fashion drove camel prices to match those of horses.

A children's rhyme circulated during Emperor Huan's time—"Straight as a bowstring, dead by roadside; curved as a hook, ennobled instead"—alluded to the powerful minister Liang Ji's murder of loyal official Li Gu. Li had advocated making the Prince of Qinghe emperor and was killed in prison, his corpse discarded roadside.

The character riddle "Lush grass stretching a thousand li, ten days yield not one day's life" deconstructs Dong Zhuo's name. "Thousand-li grass" combines to form "Dong" (董), while "ten days divination" forms "Zhuo" (卓).

The evolution of the character "宫" (palace) is explained: before Qin-Han times, both nobles and commoners could use it for residences, but later it became exclusive to royalty.

Quoting the Shiben text, it clarifies that "城" (city wall) signifies sturdiness while "郭" (outer wall) denotes expansiveness.

"菀" (variant of "苑") originally meant a place for stacking firewood.

Citing Sunzi's Art of War, it emphasizes grain reserves' importance: even the strongest fortress without provisions couldn't be held by Jiang Ziya or Mozi.

The original meaning of "郡" (prefecture) as "group" is noted, with the county-prefecture system formalized under Qin Shi Huang.

"传舍" were lodgings for couriers relaying messages.

Field pathways: "阡" runs north-south, "陌" east-west.

The Yijing explains "无恙" (unharmed): ancient people frequently relocated to avoid venomous creatures, greeting each other with "no insect harms."

The proverb "When city gates catch fire, pond fish suffer" has two origins: either pond water used for firefighting killed fish, or a family named Chi Zhongyu got caught in the disaster.

Evolution of "狱" (prison): from Xia Dynasty's "lower platform" to Zhou's "囹圄," its pictograph shows two guard dogs (犬) symbolizing ruthlessness. "囚" (prisoner) depicts a person in a square. "罪" (crime) originally wrote as "辠," changed by Qin Shi Huang who thought it resembled "皇" (emperor).

In Kuaiji region, various sacrificial rites that violated proper rituals were prevalent. A poor man who couldn't afford an ox for sacrifices actually mooed like an ox on his deathbed. Governor Diwu Lun issued strict decrees to prohibit such improper worship practices.

Li Shujian, the governor of Guiyang, kept a dog in his youth that could stand upright like a human. He remarked, "What harm is there in a dog imitating human posture?" Later when serving as county magistrate, his hat placed on the bed was carried away by the dog. He explained it as "the dog accidentally knocked it off, and the hat strings got caught on its ears." When the dog was seen watching the kitchen fire, neighbors complained, but Li defended: "Isn't it labor-saving to have a dog guard the fire?" After the dog's sudden death, Li Shujian rose to high official positions.

The Book of Lord Shang states: Those with extraordinary conduct often face worldly criticism, while individuals with unique insights frequently incur others' resentment. Like pests born in spring and dying in autumn—their appearance can cause years of famine. Today when one farmer must feed a hundred people, the harm exceeds that of locusts. With few farmers and many idlers, the idle multiply while cultivators slacken, leaving fields untended. When the strong eliminate the weak, the weak grow weaker; when the weak eliminate the strong, the strong grow stronger.

Ancient sages endured cold and hunger to temper their will and strengthen their limbs. Primordial humans lived communally until rulers were established to govern chaos. Too many borers break trees; large cracks collapse walls. Survival without trials or success without failure—such things have never existed since antiquity. Soldiers must fight like starving wolves sighting meat to unleash their full combat potential. The sage governs people as terrain guides water flow, controlling fire according to dryness or dampness.

Ruanzi records: Fishermen cast nets in deep waters to catch big fish; enlightened rulers implement laws to restrain the powerful. Dikes prevent floods; laws regulate the people. Broken dikes unleash raging rivers; violated laws bring suffering to citizens. Those who plant no trees die without coffins; those who raise no silkworms lack silk garments; those who weave no cloth have no mourning attire.

Noble minds contemplate righteousness in leisure; petty minds scheme mischief. High-flying birds choose sturdy trees to perch; wise men select virtuous lords to serve. Sparing one thief breeds theft; tolerating flatterers endangers honest advisors.

(Note: The ten-volume Zhengbu, according to the Book of Sui's Bibliographical Treatise, refers to the eight-volume Zhengbu Lun by Wang Yi of Eastern Han, cited in the Yiwen Leiju as Wang Yi Zi—namely the Zhengbu text.)

This passage from Yilin primarily expounds on the principles of self-cultivation, moral virtue, learning, and governance:

Ordinary people begin in a state of ignorance and must awaken wisdom through study and practice to refine their character. Those who follow the Dao (the Way) become noble individuals, while those who violate ritual principles degrade into petty persons. The noble act with radiant De (Virtue), whereas the petty sink into wrongdoing and invite punishment.

Like undyed silk—blue dye turns it indigo, vermilion makes it scarlet, yellow renders it golden, and black transforms it to jet. Unpolished jade remains but an ordinary stone from Southern Mountains. Thieves disregard the threat of dismemberment, and deserters ignore the axes of executioners.

The Han dynasty’s vast territory stretched east to Tang Valley (land of sunrise), west to Yu Abyss (land of sunset), south to fiery Chu, and north to frontier passes. From Qilian Mountains to Huangshan, Jieshi’s eastern cliffs to Heli’s western plains, all paid tribute. Confucius compiled the Shangshu (Book of Documents), aligning celestial will with human affairs, encompassing all genders, and probing the essence of phenomena.

(Noting characteristics of texts: Huainanzi—florid exaggeration; Taixuanjing—abstruse and unverifiable; Fayan—disordered; Xinshu—overly intricate yet impractical.)

Jade appraisal standards: red as a rooster’s comb, yellow as steamed chestnuts, white as congealed fat, black as pure lacquer. Similarly, only conduct adhering to norms merits emulation.

Cataloguing spirits: mountain deities are chi, object spirits mei, earth spirits fenyang, water spirits wangxiang, wood spirits bifang, fire spirits youguang, metal spirits qingming. These retreat when the world is at peace.

Heaven treats immortals as beloved children, mortals as straw dogs (sacrificial objects). Cherishing children reflects affection; discarding straw dogs aligns with Tianming (heavenly mandate).

To reject learning is like seeking sight without eyes, walking without legs, flight without wings, or speech without a mouth—all impossible.

Tyrants like Jie and Zhou held imperial power yet earned no praise, resembling rotten trees toppled by wind.

Just laws and compassion leave the living without resentment, the dead without regret. As the saying goes: "Decrees sharp as frost eradicate corruption; authority loud as thunder stifles banditry."

(Mentioning Shiwei in ten scrolls by Yao Xin.)

Concluding with Kong Rong: his excessive metal phase (rigidity) and deficient wood phase (flexibility) manifested in unyielding character. Just as silk weaves plain cloth or brocade, and copper casts small chimes or great bells—identical materials yield divergent worth through application.

(Note: Parenthetical terms like "Dao" and "Tianming" appear only on first occurrence per glossary rules.)

This passage conveys several layers of meaning through vivid analogies and historical references:

The opening paragraph uses metaphors to illustrate how things share the same essence despite different manifestations. Just as water becomes hot soup when heated and turns to ice when chilled—changing form while remaining fundamentally water, or how silkworm cocoons must be boiled to produce fine silk, human nature likewise transforms according to environment. Well-tuned zithers naturally play the melodies of Zheng and Wei (ancient folk music), while assembled colors weave splendid brocades. Mencius guiding people toward benevolence and righteousness is likened to walking the proper path.

The second section employs precious stones to demonstrate how value requires human recognition. Without pearl divers in the Southern Seas or jade carvers at Mount Kunlun, luminous pearls wouldn't grace palace halls nor exquisite jade adorn noble persons. References to the "Pepper Chamber" (imperial consort's quarters) and "Cassia Palace" (emperor's residence) symbolize exalted spaces where such treasures belong.

A discussion on talent and scholarship follows: true ability lies in specialization, while learning thrives through rigorous study. Historical examples include Shi Jian (Han dynasty statesman) who valued substance over ornamentation, Cai Yong (Eastern Han scholar) whose literary brilliance surpassed practical merit, and Xu Gan (Jian'an period literatus) who perfectly balanced both qualities.

Interspersed throughout are classical allusions: Ge Hong's Daoist text Baopuzi with its distinct inner and outer chapters; the legend of alchemist Li Shaojun summoned by celestial beings while accompanying Emperor Wu to Mount Song; the cautionary "ant's-nose flaw" metaphor warning how minor defects (like neglecting Daoist cultivation) can forfeit immortality. The conclusion enumerates mystical abilities—shape-shifting, invisibility, sword-swallowing, fire-spitting, and walking unharmed on blades—demonstrating advanced spiritual attainment.

Through natural phenomena, historical precedents, and cultivation examples, the text explores the relationship between essence and appearance, the refinement of human potential, and the stages of Daoist practice.

The Forest of Ideas records several stories and philosophical insights:

In Chen Zhonggong’s Tales of the Strange, it is said that during wartime, a villager named Zhang Guangding placed his four-year-old daughter, who could not walk, in a tomb with several months' worth of food. Three years later, when he returned to bury her remains, he found her still alive. The girl explained that after the food ran out, she noticed a creature (possibly a turtle) in the corner of the tomb stretching its neck and swallowing Qi (vital energy). She imitated it and, as a result, no longer felt hunger.

Ancient sage-kings derived wisdom from observing nature: Taihao (Fuxi) mimicked spiders to create nets, Jintianshi (Shaohao) studied the nine hu birds to establish the calendar, the Yellow Emperor (Dixuan) adjusted musical tones based on the calls of phoenixes, and Emperor Yao discerned the months by observing the mingjia herb.

Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) can soar through the skies and tread on shadows, drinking jade nectar and feasting on emerald lingzhi mushrooms. Pengzu said that celestial offices in heaven are numerous, and newly ascended immortals hold lowly positions, serving many others.

Just as a farmer obtains a red bow but uses it to scare birds, or southern tribes receive fine robes yet wear them while carrying firewood, ordinary people acquire elixirs of immortality but fail to treasure them. Yuanjun was the teacher of Laozi (the Old Master).

Master Shi’s alchemical method: Feed a featherless fledgling with true cinnabar and beef until it grows red feathers, then kill and dry it in the shade—consuming it grants a lifespan of five hundred years. The zhucao (immortal herb) has a stem like coral; when carved, it bleeds a blood-like sap. Placing jade into it produces jade nectar, while gold yields golden syrup—drinking either bestows longevity.

Achievements in Daoist cultivation are divided into three grades: the highest become celestial officials, the middling dwell on Mount Kunlun, and the lowest attain earthly longevity. Yet ordinary people chase only fleeting pleasures—sensual delights, wealth, and status.

The dragon-spring sword remains sharp from disuse, while an axe wears out quickly from daily labor. A tiny insect in shallow water believes the world has no vast oceans; a bug inside a fruit pit imagines no horizons beyond its shell. Eating rotten meat to sate hunger or drinking poisoned wine to quench thirst may bring temporary relief but leads to death.

People treasure luminous pearls yet scorn the deep pool; they adore the He Shi jade but despise Mount Jing—unaware that pearls emerge from the depths and jade is born of the mountain. Today, scholars wait for official posts, yet vacancies are few. In times of peace, extraordinary individuals withdraw into obscurity.

The Fleshly Ganoderma (Roulingzhi) is a ten-thousand-year-old toad with eight vermilion characters on its head. If captured precisely at noon on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, drawing lines on the ground with its feet will cause water to spring forth. Carrying its left forelimb protects one from weapon injuries.

When traveling through mountains, encountering tiny figures seven or eight inches tall riding chariots also indicates the presence of Fleshly Ganoderma - consuming it confers immortality. Millennia-old bats turn snow-white because their blood concentrates in their heads from hanging upside down in caves. Thousand-year-old swallows invariably build nests with entrances facing north.

When ingesting mineral substances like Cloud Essence (Yunying), Cloud Pearl (Yunzhu), Cloud Liquid (Yunye), Mica (Yunmu), or Cloud Sand (Yunsha), one must use jade cups with clear water. Emperor Cheng of Han once hunted on Zhongnan Mountain and encountered a naked woman covered in black hair who leaped across deep ravines like a bird when pursued. She was revealed to be a Qin dynasty palace maid who fled into the mountains when Prince Ying surrendered. Near starvation, an old man fed her pine nuts, granting eternal satiety - she had lived over two centuries. When later given grain, her black hair fell out and she rapidly aged to death.

For longevity, consume mountain essences (Shanjing). Scholar Lingyang Zizhong consumed Polygala root for twenty years, fathering thirty-seven sons while gaining photographic memory.

Those attaining sagehood through Daoist practice include Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) and Laozi, while governance sages like Duke of Zhou (Zhougong) and Confucius (Kongzi) represent worldly wisdom. Just as master Go players like Yan Ziqing and Ma Suiming earned the title "Go Sage" (Qi Sheng).

Pengzu served from Emperor Yao's reign through Xia to Shang dynasties. When the Shang king sent concubines to learn bedroom arts (ancient longevity techniques) from him, the king later sought to kill Pengzu after achieving results. Forewarned, Pengzu fled westward, with sightings reported in deserts seventy years later.

A folk saying warns: Human existence resembles livestock led to slaughter - each day brings death nearer.

For longevity, maintain clean intestines; for immortality, retain no fecal accumulation.

Laozi, surnamed Li with given name Er and courtesy name Boyang, stood nine chi tall (≈2m) with golden complexion, beak-like mouth, prominent nose bridge, five-inch eyebrows, and dwelled in gold-jade adorned halls.

Clove buds and coptis juice cure eye ailments. Proverbs state: "No corpulent immortals nor wealthy Daoists exist - even alchemists remain poor." Another warns: "Texts distort through three transcriptions - 'fish' becomes 'Lu,' 'emperor' turns to 'tiger.'" Talismans (Fulu) suffer similarly, their efficacy diminishing.

White stones resemble jade but aren't; hypocrites mimic sages. True phoenixes evade nets, qilin avoid traps.

This passage employs vivid metaphors and contrasts to reveal the inherent limitations of all things in the world and principles for navigating human affairs.

A small cup of wine cannot clarify the turbid Yellow River, nor can a foot of water extinguish a burning mountain. Patching a leaking boat or trying to stop boiling water with intense fire are equally futile efforts. If scholars were made to farm by day for sustenance and burn midnight oil studying at night, even virtuous men like Ziyou and Zixia would find their capacities insufficient. Fetching seawater when the mansion is already ablaze or chopping wood to build boats during a catastrophic flood—both actions come too late. Ministers are like limbs of the body—whether treading on ice or grasping hot coals, they cannot shirk their duties.

Multiple images illustrate how all things have their constraints: a thin thread cannot secure a collapsing mountain; a handful of earth cannot block the raging torrent at Dragon Gate. Swords and halberds, though useless for sewing, excel at slaughtering cattle and horses; awls, ineffective for killing, prove adept at stitching—each tool has its specialty that cannot be forced. A massive army doesn't guarantee universal bravery; benevolent governance resembles cosmetic powder for adornment, while penal laws function like bridles for control. When anger is warranted yet withheld, treacherous ministers transform into tigers; when execution is due yet delayed, great bandits rise in rebellion.

A single ladle of water suffices to quench a small flame, and an unhatched swan's egg can be crushed with one palm. But once that flame becomes a wildfire or that swan takes flight, neither wisdom nor courage can subdue them. Releasing the reins while riding a dangerous mountain path or discarding oars when sailing stormy seas—is this not courting disaster? A golden boat cannot navigate raging waves, nor can a jade steed gallop a thousand miles.

The text also satirizes contemporary social phenomena: some officials inherit their positions through ancestral privilege, others gain power by currying favor with the mighty. A folk saying goes: "The recommended scholar cannot read, the chosen filial son doesn't support his father." So-called lofty scholars prove filthy in reality, while reputed valiant generals cower like frogs. Ancient scholars achieved distinction through diligent study of classics, whereas modern men covet official titles yet shirk responsibilities.

The author values friendships rooted in mutual understanding over superficial sociability, just as a mirror reveals a crooked hat and sunlight exposes a bent shadow. Even capable statesmen like Zhou Bo couldn't master accounting ledgers. True connoisseurs retrieve bright pearls from muddy waters; flower admirers seek fragrant herbs amidst weeds—without discerning vision, who could uncover jade beneath soil or harvest pearls from deep waters? The supremely wise stand immovable as mountains, while petty minds drift like duckweed. The upright detest warped timber; the incorruptible abhor cunning villains.

When King Wen of Zhou encountered Jiang Ziya (Lü Wang), after just a brief conversation beneath the mulberry tree’s shade, he knew he could take him as his teacher. Similarly, when a man of high virtue met Zhuge Liang (Kongming), before the shadow had moved much, they had already confided in each other with complete trust. Those who appear tall and imposing may not necessarily be virtuous, nor are those with frail forms necessarily foolish.

Cai Yong (Bo Jie) could discern a peerless qin from charred wood, and Zhang Heng (Pingzi) could select an exceptional flute from unworked bamboo. A true sage’s majestic presence is like coiling dragons and tigers, naturally conforming to the proper measure.

After drinking, some feel light and unsteady, their hats askew and belts loosened—those who were once composed now sway like tumbleweeds, while the usually stern become as lively as leaping deer and darting fish. Those normally tongue-tied begin to gesture wildly and expound grandly, and the modest grow impassioned. In drunkenness, the nine bends of a perilous road seem like an anthill, and the raging currents of Lüliang appear as shallow as ox hoofprints. To curb excessive drinking, the best method is to fear intoxication as one fears illness, to loathe drunkenness as one loathes a grave malady—then one will not sink into its depths.

Some among the common folk dig cellars to hide wine or smuggle it in oil bags, for the punishment is light while the profit is great, making it difficult to eradicate entirely. Guan Lu of the Three Kingdoms could drink three dou and still think clearly, while Yang Xiong never parted with his wine yet composed the Taixuan Jing (Classic of Supreme Mystery).

Those drawn to vice are like moths to a flame; those who learn wickedness are like dust swept by the wind. It is like having an axe without a handle—ultimately, nothing can be done.

Nowadays, people regard slovenliness as elegance and dismiss dignified solemnity as rustic—is this not utterly confused?

Impoverished scholars spend their days reciting from yellowed bamboo scrolls, crawling among piles of ancient texts. Meanwhile, those who bow and scrape before the powerful, like hairy-winged cicada nymphs, fancy themselves soaring to greatness—but in truth, they are base and petty.

When the beauty Xishi once clutched her chest in pain and collapsed by the roadside, people still found her lovely because she carried the fragrance of orchids and musk. But when her neighbor, Dongshi, imitated her frown, she only earned disgust. So too do people today mimic the famous scholars Dai Liang and Ruan Ji, grasping only the surface.

Born in chaotic times, even a lame donkey can fetch the price of a fine steed. But no matter how splendid a fox-fur robe, it cannot ward off summer heat; no matter how magnificent a dragon boat, it cannot sail on land.

A true great commander is unyielding as the vault of heaven—none dare defy him—yet yielding as the fathomless abyss, unfathomable in depth. In motion, he is like lightning, vanishing in an instant; in stillness, he is like a mountain, immovable.

This passage from Yilin records multifaceted content encompassing ancient military tactics, natural phenomena, and extraordinary anecdotes:

In spring campaigns, long spears should lead the vanguard; in summer, halberds take the front; in autumn, bows and crossbows guide the way; while in winter, sword-and-shield units spearhead the advance. These are the principles of warfare aligned with the seasonal rhythms of heaven. Jiang Taigong (Jiang Ziya) once said: "Strike the enemy at their weakest point, and even a force of ten thousand can be utterly annihilated. A single woman who masters the essential techniques can hold off a hundred strong men."

Predicting enemy movements through natural signs: rustling leaves indicate foes ten li away, swaying branches suggest enemies four hundred li distant. When metal weapons ring without cause or cooking vessels emit scorched odors, these signal an army's exhaustion. Troop morale scattering like startled deer foretells imminent defeat. Dew moistening soldiers' uniforms is auspicious (called "moistening the troops"), while dry garments portend misfortune ("weeping army"). When the Supreme Unity (Taiyi, the highest celestial deity) protects the enemy, do not attack. Encountering crabs at a campsite demands immediate relocation.

On evaluating talent: Ji Kang once remarked that Zuo Si and Zhang Hua could be considered "erudite scholars" (通人), though such scholars rank only below sages. Ban Gu noted that Empress Lü could discern Liu Bang's whereabouts by observing cloud formations—this wasn't heaven uniquely favoring the Lü clan. Just as eunuchs' lack of desire doesn't equate to chastity, or singing girls abstaining from wine hardly proves their integrity, King Wen of Zhou pretending not to know he was eating soup made from his son's flesh wasn't because he found it delicious.

Dong Zhongshu possessed profound learning but dull natural aptitude. Those mistaking mayflies for divine dragons understand neither dragons nor mayflies (Taiping Yulan records this as mistaking lizards). Wang Chong patted Ban Gu's back and prophesied: "This child will surely become a renowned scholar under heaven."

Geographical wonders: The Wuling Mountains harbor no frost-killed trees, while Jin'an in the South Sea produces rice yielding nine harvests annually. Daoist texts record: pine resin buried for a millennium becomes poria cocos, after another thousand years turns to amber, then after further millennia becomes stone gall, ultimately transforming into weixi (a Daoist elixir).

Life observations: Heating drums to make them sound or tightening zither strings for mournful tones accelerates the drumheads' perforation and the strings' premature snapping. Sharpen a knife to slaughter a horse, and the outcome is immediately verifiable. Beehives yield wax, water foam forms pumice. The place name "Falling Star Gulch" originates from a meteorite's fall during Eastern Wu.

The Jizhong Documents record: After the Yellow Emperor achieved immortality, his minister Zuo Que carved a wooden effigy of him, leading the feudal lords in worship. Legend says consuming swan embryos grants night vision bright as daylight. Hebo (the Yellow River god) was originally a native of Huayin who drowned while crossing the river on the first geng day of the eighth month, thereafter being appointed River God by the Celestial Emperor.

The Forest of Thoughts records several tales of supernatural phenomena and strange occurrences:

When Emperor Jing of Wu fell ill, he summoned a shaman for divination. The shaman killed a goose and buried it in the garden, then arranged a curtained bed in a small hut with women's shoes placed inside. Claiming he could see only the white goose but no woman, the shaman thereby gained the emperor's trust.

A friend kept a large macaque that was killed by a dog. A hundred days later, a medium reported seeing an injured, bleeding monkey on the house beams.

One of my ancestors, having achieved Daoist cultivation, could manifest doppelgangers—simultaneously conversing with guests while welcoming visitors elsewhere.

Regarding the literary works of Lu Ji and Lu Yun (the Lu brothers), their writings were likened to mighty rivers compared to shallow puddles. Ji Kang (the "Ji Scholar") would sigh in awe while reading, fearing he might finish their works too quickly. Lu Ji's ten essays in particular stand as masterpieces—their ornate passages cannot be abridged, their concise arguments cannot be expanded. These men were far more than mere Confucian literati.

Ge Hong (styled Zhichuan) recounts his family history: His lineage traced back to the legendary tribal leader Ge Tianshi. After repeated fires destroyed their library, he carried book boxes on foot to borrow texts for copying. Selling firewood to buy paper, he studied by lamplight, memorizing through repeated transcription.

Other notable observations:

• Qin dynasty people didn't consider noselessness ugly, while Yangdi natives despised those lacking tumors (reflecting aesthetic relativity)
• Lu Ji's writings resemble piled jade—unmatched for centuries
• Oral teachings from Confucius' and Zheng Xuan's disciples have vanished; only written records endure
• Mi Heng's evaluation of contemporaries deemed only Kong Rong and Xun Yu worth conversing with
• Ancient humans could endure extreme cold and hunger
• Otters proliferate → fish scatter; hawks multiply → birds chaos
• Long tails require large bodies; giant tusks demand broad jaws
• A friend used Confucian-Mohist thought as armor and wit as weaponry

(Note: "⬤" indicates missing characters in original text. Proper nouns include "Ge Tianshi"—legendary tribal leader; "Ji Scholar" refers to Ji Kang; "Two Lus" denotes Lu Ji and Lu Yun brothers.)

This passage describes the lifestyle and character traits of Ge Hong (Baopuzi), a renowned Daoist master of the Eastern Jin dynasty. Ge Hong dressed with extreme simplicity, paying no attention even when the ribbons on his hat became soiled. At times he wore loose robes with broad sashes, while on other occasions he donned tight-sleeved narrow garments, with hemlines either trailing on the ground or so short they couldn't cover his knees. Contemporaries praised him as truly embodying the principle of "embracing simplicity" (baopu), and he consequently adopted "Baopuzi" (Master Who Embraces Simplicity) as the title for his writings.

Living in austere poverty, Ge Hong's household lacked even servant boys. He wouldn't repair broken fences, often needing to push aside weeds to enter or exit his dwelling. His temperament was detached—he never curried favor with officials nor disturbed his relatives. When Ji Jundao served as Governor of Guangzhou and recommended him for the position of Army Advisor, Ge Hong showed no interest in the post, instead using the opportunity to retreat southward.

At fifteen, Ge Hong had composed numerous poems and rhapsodies, believing they would endure through the ages. Yet upon reviewing these works around age twenty, he found them unsatisfactory and destroyed them all. He never participated in games like weiqi (Go) or chupu (an ancient gambling game), and wouldn't even watch when others played such games.

Through these life details, the text reveals Ge Hong's Daoist character of "embracing simplicity and preserving authenticity" (baopu shouzhen)—disdaining fame and wealth, maintaining an ascetic lifestyle, exercising strict self-discipline. His willingness to discard immature early works demonstrates his cultivation attitude pursuing spiritual transcendence.