《易因上下經》

The Book of Changes (Yijing) begins by listing the names of the sixty-four hexagrams, with the first thirty presented here: Qian (Heaven), Kun (Earth), Zhun (Difficulty), Meng (Youthful Folly), Xu (Waiting), Song (Conflict), Shi (Army), Bi (Union), Xiao Xu (Small Accumulation), Lü (Treading), Tai (Peace), Pi (Standstill), Tong Ren (Fellowship), Da You (Great Possession), Qian (Modesty), Yu (Enthusiasm), Sui (Following), Gu (Decay), Lin (Approach), Guan (Contemplation), Shi Ke (Biting Through), Bi (Grace), Bo (Splitting Apart), Fu (Return), Wu Wang (Innocence), Da Xu (Great Accumulation), Yi (Nourishment), Da Guo (Great Excess), Xi Kan (Abysmal Water), and Li (Radiance).

Focusing on the Qian hexagram (symbolizing Heaven), its imagery and line statements are explained: Composed of two stacked Qian trigrams (each with three solid yang lines), its judgment "Initiating, penetrating, beneficial, and steadfast" represents the four heavenly virtues of creation, penetration, benefit, and perseverance.

The six line statements reveal wisdom for different life stages:

The first line (Initial Nine) "Hidden dragon, do not act" suggests one should accumulate strength when in a low position, like a submerged dragon biding its time.

The second line (Nine Two) "Dragon appearing in the field" indicates virtue beginning to manifest, favorable for meeting noble figures.

The third line (Nine Three) "Vigilant perseverance all day" shows that continuous refinement ensures safety despite dangers.

The fourth line (Nine Four) "Leaping from the abyss" represents a testing phase of tentative advancement or retreat.

The fifth line (Nine Five) "Soaring dragon in heaven" symbolizes career zenith, auspicious for encountering great mentors.

The top line (Top Nine) "Arrogant dragon will know regret" warns against overreaching through the principle of reversal when extremes are reached.

The Great Symbolism commentary interprets Qian as the movement of Heaven's Dao: The supreme Qian origin (qi) is the source of all things, like clouds and rain nourishing creation. Its six lines resemble six dragons steering celestial timing. Heavenly transformations grant all beings their proper places, maintaining cosmic harmony to universally benefit and stabilize the world. Noble persons should emulate this ceaseless self-perfection.

The Wenyan commentary elaborates: "Initiating" is the root of benevolence, "penetrating" the convergence of excellence, "beneficial" the harmony of righteousness, and "steadfast" the foundation of endeavors. By embodying these virtues, leaders align with ritual propriety to accomplish great works.

Confucius explained the line statements: Those with dragon-like virtue who dwell in seclusion neither alter their aspirations for worldly affairs nor seek fame. Withdrawing without bitterness, they act or retreat with unwavering resolve—this is the realm of the "hidden dragon." When virtue manifests ("dragon in the field"), it naturally attracts kindred spirits.

This passage explains the meaning of the six lines, or six changing states, of the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing), and how a noble person should conduct himself in different circumstances.

It begins by explaining “the virtue of the dragon,” a symbol of a noble person’s character. Someone with the dragon’s virtue keeps their words and actions trustworthy, behaves with care, guards against wrongful thoughts, and remains sincere. They benefit the world without boasting, and their virtue spreads and transforms others. As the Yijing says, “The dragon appears in the field.” This foretells the opportunity to meet a person of great virtue and standing, and expresses the virtue a ruler should possess.

The third line, “The noble person is diligent all day and remains vigilant at night,” means that a noble person cultivates virtue and pursues learning through loyalty and trustworthiness, and builds a career through sincere speech. Knowing the goal, they work to achieve it; knowing the proper limits, they stop in time. Thus, they are not arrogant when in a high position, nor anxious when in a low one. By remaining alert at all times, they avoid mistakes.

The fourth line, “The dragon may leap up or lie in the depths,” signifies that changes of position do not arise from wrongful intent, and uncertain advance and retreat do not mean abandoning the community. A noble person cultivates virtue and establishes achievements by acting at the right time; therefore, there is no misfortune.

The fifth line, “The flying dragon is in the heavens,” symbolizes how things of the same kind respond to one another: water flows toward the damp, fire moves toward the dry, clouds follow the dragon, and wind follows the tiger. When a sage appears, all things can reveal their true nature. What originates in Heaven draws near to what is above; what originates on Earth draws near to what is below. Each gathers with its own kind.

The final line, “The overreaching dragon will have cause for regret,” offers a warning: one may hold a high rank yet lack real authority, stand above others yet lose the people’s support, and fail to appoint worthy people. Such actions will bring regret.

The passage then uses the six stages to describe the circumstances of life. “The hidden dragon: do not act” is the early stage, when strength lies dormant. “The dragon appears in the field” is the stage of waiting for the right moment. “Diligent all day” is a period of hard work and practice. “The dragon may leap in the depths” is a time for testing oneself. “The flying dragon is in the heavens” is the height of fulfilling one’s aspirations. “The overreaching dragon will have cause for regret” is the misfortune that comes from excess.

Finally, the passage summarizes the nature of the Qian hexagram, which represents Heaven. The Qian origin gives birth to all things and enables them to flourish. “Favorable to constancy” expresses Heaven’s nature. Heaven initiates all things without claiming credit; this quality of strength, balance, purity, and subtlety is revealed through the changes of the six lines.

This passage elucidates the profound principles of the Qian hexagram (symbolizing heaven) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), using the dragon's various states as metaphors for life circumstances and the patterns of cosmic operation.

The text begins by interpreting the imagery of "clouds moving and rain falling" - just as clouds flow naturally across the sky and rain descends upon the earth, this represents the harmonious functioning of heaven and earth. A noble person (junzi) should take the cultivation of virtue (De) as their daily standard, with these moral qualities manifesting through ordinary actions. During the "hidden dragon" phase (indicating the time is not yet ripe), the noble person should conceal their brilliance and refrain from hasty action.

The passage then discusses the path of self-cultivation for the noble person: accumulating knowledge through study, discerning truth through questioning, treating others with tolerance, and acting with benevolence. When the sign of "a dragon appearing in the field" emerges (symbolizing the initial manifestation of worthy individuals), it indicates the time has come for those possessing sovereign virtue to appear.

Particular emphasis is placed on the special situation of the third and fourth lines: when positioned between upper and lower without firm grounding, one must maintain constant vigilance. Though danger exists, calamity can be avoided. The true "great person" (one of complete virtue) aligns their virtue (De) with heaven, earth, sun and moon, synchronizes with the changes of the four seasons, and resonates with the auspicious and inauspicious signs of spirits. Their actions precede heaven's will yet heaven does not oppose them; they follow heaven's timing yet perfectly conform to the Dao of heaven.

Finally, the text warns against the state of the "arrogant dragon" (one that has flown too high): knowing only advancement without retreat, understanding existence but not decline, grasping acquisition without relinquishment. Only sages comprehend the principles of advance/retreat and existence/decay without losing the proper path. The Qian origin (the fundamental principle of heaven) serves as the source of all creation, governing the operation of heaven's Dao. While all things maintain their individual natures, they unite within the holistic nature of the Qian origin. The dragon's different states across the six lines all represent natural manifestations of Qian's transformations - sages simply discern these timings to comprehend the Dao of heaven.

This scripture elucidates the core concept of "Qian Yuan" (the primordial creative force of the cosmos), which embodies the four virtues of "Yuan, Heng, Li, Zhen." Among these, "Yuan" (originating) is the most fundamental. The text clarifies that Qian Yuan is not only the source of all creation, but its "Li Zhen" qualities (benefiting all things while remaining steadfast) form the foundation for its enduring efficacy.

The author emphasizes that every individual inherently possesses the attributes of Qian Yuan and carries the potential to "transcend the mundane" (rise above ordinary existence). Yet in reality, people often resign themselves to mediocrity, decaying alongside common things—a truly regrettable state. True sages, however, can harness the power of Qian Yuan, governing the world as if "riding six dragons across the heavens" (a metaphor for mastering natural laws), thereby bringing peace to all nations.

The scripture further explains that behind Qian Yuan's "initiating and penetrating" (Yuan Heng) nature lies its essential character of "Li Zhen." It is precisely this quality of benefiting all while remaining unwavering that enables Qian Yuan to continuously bless the world. Such magnificent merit, achieved silently and without fanfare, represents Qian Yuan's greatest manifestation.

Finally, the text reveals that Qian Yuan's virtues manifest through the six lines of the hexagram (Yao), likened to six soaring dragons. Sages align with the Dao by skillfully navigating these forces. This virtue combines robust strength with perfect balance—pure, subtle, and ultimately beyond full verbal expression. Whether in Heaven, humanity, or sages, all share this magnificent primordial source without distinction.

This scripture explores the essential relationship between Heaven, humanity, and sages, as well as the profound meaning behind the four virtues of "Qian Yuan Heng Li Zhen" from the Zhouyi (Book of Changes).

The movement of Heaven and Earth is fundamentally one with human action, as sages share the same De (Virtue/Power) with the cosmos. The core of the Qian hexagram (representing Heaven) lies in "Zhen" (steadfast virtue), which manifests in human temperament. Both ordinary people and sages possess this Heaven-connected virtue. The four virtues—Yuan (origination), Heng (prosperity), Li (benefit), and Zhen (steadfastness)—are ultimately unified. Through the Qian hexagram, sages guide people to understand how steadfast virtue gives rise to new origination, creating a cyclical generation of all four virtues.

True Qian (Heaven) possesses ultimate strength and dynamism, while Kun (Earth) embodies ultimate softness and compliance. Should Qian lose its strength or Kun its compliance, Heaven and Earth would lose their fundamental attributes. Earth appears supremely soft yet generates vigorous movement, seemingly tranquil yet establishes directional stability—this demonstrates Kun's compliant virtue. The Dao of Qian enables all things to attain their nature and destiny through transformation—this manifests Heaven's dynamic virtue. Strength need not consciously seek compliance, nor compliance consciously seek strength; maintaining their authentic states constitutes the true path.

Both Qian and Kun hexagrams speak of "Yuan Heng," but Qian emphasizes "Li Zhen" while Kun specifies "Li pin ma zhi zhen" (beneficial steadfastness of the mare). This distinction is revealing: Qian uses the dragon to symbolize transformative ascension, while Kun employs the mare to represent compliant steadfastness. This is because Kun's virtue fundamentally lies in maintaining firmness within softness, much like how a gentle mare can endure long journeys—this constitutes Kun's essential virtue.

This passage elucidates the characteristics of the Kun hexagram (symbolizing the earth) from the Book of Changes, particularly the profound meaning behind "the steadfastness of a mare" (pìn mǎ zhī zhēn).

The Kun hexagram emulates the earth's virtue of docility, mirroring a mare's gentle yet loyal nature. Maintaining this attitude of peaceful compliance and steadfast integrity brings good fortune; applying it to affairs yields enduring benefits. The Way of Kun (earth) takes Qian (heaven) as its guide, willingly assuming a secondary position without contending for precedence or forming partisan alliances—this constitutes the essence of "zhen" (steadfastness). Should Kun attempt to precede Qian, it would lose its way; only by following Qian's lead can it maintain proper orientation. Whether Qian dominates the west or south, Kun remains content in the northeast position, devotedly following. This undivided attitude of compliance is the source of Kun's "yuan heng" (great success).

Human nature is originally upright, yet this uprightness inherently contains squareness. Our initial thoughts manifest this innate uprightness, and when such upright thoughts are perceived, the awareness itself is also upright. This awareness brings timely restraint—restraint constitutes squareness. The earth's nature is vast and substantial; Kun's De (virtue) knows no bounds. Thus the hexagram statement mentions both "upright" and "square": uprightness represents inner integrity, while squareness embodies outer righteousness. Integrity teaches restraint; righteousness guides action. These qualities of uprightness and squareness aren't acquired through learning but are inherent virtues.

The appended commentary by Su Dongpo explains: the dragon symbolizes self-directed transformation, while the horse represents domesticated usefulness. The mare epitomizes ultimate compliance, yet such compliance must maintain steadfastness to avoid deviating into wrong paths. Li Zhi further clarifies: true compliance means conforming to heaven's (Qian's) principles—aligning with the Dao of nature constitutes steadfastness. If yin (Kun) seeks attachment to other yin forces—such as forming alliances or moving southwest (the yin position)—it cannot achieve perfect compliance by wholeheartedly following yang (Qian). The essence of Kun's Way lies in being useful to others without losing its fundamental nature.

This passage primarily discusses principles for conducting oneself in the world and cultivating virtue (De). It begins by warning against obstinate self-will, advocating harmony while avoiding forceful prominence. A noble person should act according to proper timing—taking the lead too hastily may lead one astray, whereas following enables alignment with the Dao of Heaven.

The text employs Bagua (Eight Trigrams) symbolism: the western and southern directions (represented by the Dui, Li, and Xun trigrams) signify like-minded companions, while the eastern and northern directions (Zhen, Kan, and Gen trigrams) represent incompatible company. Two yin forces cannot mutually accomplish anything—thus one must depart from similar types and seek guidance by turning northeast (symbolized by the Qian trigram).

Commentator Li Tuweng explains that Qian (Heaven) governs Kun (Earth). As the ruling principle, Qian need not be deliberately pursued—forcing it leads to loss. Obsession with seeking companionship prevents one from wholeheartedly following Qian's guidance. The analysis then examines the characteristics of the second yao (line) in hexagram interpretation: occupying the second (yin) position, its nature is gentle and compliant. Upright and square virtue (De) emanates from within, manifesting as sincere speech and action. Loyalty fulfills sincerity, and sincerity originates from the heart—this is the universal principle all should follow. Hence, noble persons devote their lives to the path of loyalty and sincerity.

For those yet to fully comprehend the supreme state of loyalty-sincerity, they should begin with daily conduct, practicing it lifelong. This preserves righteousness and minimizes faults, for those diligently cultivating virtue (De) daily fear nothing more than transgressing righteousness. Those who truly understand the ultimate state immediately grasp the "one thread running through all" upon hearing "loyalty-reciprocity"; others may practice loyalty-reciprocity lifelong without ever comprehending this unifying principle. Thus Confucius's disciple Zengzi took loyalty-reciprocity as the highest standard, while his students practiced it lifelong—this marks the difference between realization and non-realization.

When Confucius said, "Is there one word that may serve as a rule of practice for all one's life? Surely it is reciprocity (shu)," he spoke truly. Scholars should practice loyalty-reciprocity lifelong, awaiting natural realization without forcing it. Only with Qian's firm, centered, pure, and refined virtue (De) can one reach the ultimate state—Kun's gentle virtue alone cannot attain this.

The fourth yang line (9-4) occupies Qian's upper position, suspended between faith and doubt—seeming to understand the supreme state yet lacking confidence, wishing to hold fast yet remaining unsettled. This is the "leaping in the abyss" state. Confucius clearly states: virtue's value lies in constancy—wavering up and down shows inconstancy; endeavor's worth lies in perseverance—advancing and retreating shows inconsistency.

This passage explains the principles of cultivating virtue and establishing oneself. What is called “constancy”—the constant Way—does not mean merely uttering empty words about loyalty and trustworthiness, nor must one withdraw from society to become a sage. Since we live among other people, how could we completely detach ourselves from the community? In my view, what matters in a gentleman’s cultivation of virtue and learning is recognizing the right moment and acting decisively. If one is always hesitant, when will one ever reach a state of peace and order?

The passage draws an analogy with the line statements of the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing). The fifth line, “The flying dragon is in the heavens,” represents a perfect state in which virtue, status, and timing come together. Such a “great person”—someone of lofty virtue—is revered throughout the world. But the second line has virtue without high status. Why, then, can it also be called that of a “great person”? Because virtue itself is the most precious thing in the world. A virtuous person deserves respect regardless of rank: from the Son of Heaven to the commoner, self-cultivation is fundamental. A commoner with the virtue of a ruler will naturally be revered by others; conversely, who would truly respect someone of high rank who lacks virtue?

As for the individual lines, the second line’s dragon-like virtue—an image of the gentleman’s virtue—has already emerged. It occupies the “central and correct” position, neither partial nor excessive, like a destination people long for. Though this virtue has not yet reached its height, it is already spreading its benefits widely. The other lines represent different stages of cultivation: the first warns one to focus on self-cultivation and not rush ahead; the top line cautions against going too far and suffering the regret of the “overreaching dragon”; the third and fourth call for diligence day and night, or for judging circumstances carefully. These are all states along the process of cultivation, rather than the ideal moment for “beneficial audience with a great person.” Yet as long as one perseveres in cultivating virtue, whether one reaches the state of the second or fifth line, one can become a “great person” revered by all things.

The passage’s central point is that cultivating virtue has nothing to do with rank. What matters is putting it into practice consistently. Timing and status are external conditions; the true priority is cultivating inner character.

This passage discusses the relationship between the "Great Person" (one of exalted virtue) and heaven-earth. A true "Great Person" aligns their De (Virtue) with the cosmic order, remaining indifferent to status whether in the supreme ninth-fifth position or the ninth-second position (referring to hexagram lines in the Yijing). Such a person cannot be opposed by heaven because they command the Dao of heaven; cannot be opposed by humans because they guide all beings to bring peace to the world; and cannot be opposed by spirits because they possess miraculous transformative abilities—capable of expansion or contraction, concealment or manifestation, summoning wind and rain—all occurring with natural spontaneity.

Confucius lamented that the "soaring dragon" of the ninth-fifth line (symbolizing the highest state) requires resonance with its kind to manifest. Yet in reality, even those sharing the same hexagram positions may fail to understand each other. Virtuous sages like Yan Hui who approached the "Great Person" realm were exceedingly rare, and after Yan Hui's passing, such individuals became even harder to find. This explains Confucius' profound sorrow between the second and fifth lines (symbolizing different spiritual states).

Only those who truly comprehend the Dao of advancement and withdrawal can be called sages, for they never reach extremes ("overreaching"). Sages perpetually maintain the balanced middle path, unlike ordinary people who selectively interpret texts to satisfy personal desires.

All nine yang lines of the Qian hexagram (symbolizing heaven) represent dragons. Though the multitude of dragons may be visible, their leader remains unseen—this is the crucial point. Those who truly understand the "application of nines" principle grasp the profound meaning of "a host of dragons without a head" (non-contention for leadership). Attaining this state naturally enables one to guide all beings toward universal peace, harness the celestial Dao to master cosmic principles, and fully comprehend the ultimate truth of the Qian Dao.

The core concept of the Classic of Changes (Yijing) states that all transformations in the universe originate from a single fundamental principle ("One Origin"), which governs the movement of heaven and earth, with all changes manifesting in concrete phenomena. Thus, the "Application of Nine" (the operational principle of Yang lines in the Qian hexagram) reveals the pattern of the Heavenly Dao (Tiandao).

The auspiciousness (Ji) in the phrase "a flock of dragons without a leader brings good fortune" encompasses four virtues: Yuan (origination), Heng (penetration), Li (benefit), and Zhen (perseverance). The true "Application of Nine" that aligns with Heavenly Virtue (Tiande) cannot have a fixed ruler—having one would contradict the Heavenly Dao. Therefore, the Classic of Changes states that only when the Qian Origin (Qianyuan) applies the "Application of Nine" principle can the pattern of the Heavenly Dao be manifested. Su Shi insightfully remarked: "The Qian Origin takes 'leaderlessness' as its Heavenly Dao principle"—this represents the highest wisdom.

Supplementary commentaries from various scholars:

Zhuangzi described the Classic of Changes as the study of Yin-Yang transformations. Yang Xiong noted that Fuxi used the Eight Trigrams (Bagua) to structure heaven and earth, King Wen of Zhou developed the six lines, and Confucius perfected the hexagram images and statements, thereby revealing cosmic mysteries and establishing the laws of all things.

Chen Tuan (Daoist philosopher) held that Fuxi initially drew the Eight Trigrams and doubled them into sixty-four hexagrams without textual explanations, allowing people to comprehend through observation. Alignment with the hexagram images brought auspiciousness, while opposition brought misfortune—this embodied Fuxi's "wordless teaching."

Shao Yong stated: "The Classic of Changes serves as the sage's tool to nurture the nobleman's way and diminish the petty man's path. It foresees trends before events occur and prevents hidden dangers before they form. These natural cycles of growth and decline, opening and closing, represent the subtlest divine mechanism under heaven—how else could such perfection be achieved?"

Zhou Dunyi pointed out: "Sages manifest essence through hexagram images and expound profound meaning through statements. Without images, the sage's essence remains invisible; without statements, the sage's thought remains incomprehensible. The Classic of Changes isn't merely the source of the Five Classics—it's the very key to the mysteries of heaven, earth, and spiritual beings."

Qiu Jun observed that the three lines of the Qian hexagram became the progenitor of later writing systems, while the four characters "Yuan Heng Li Zhen" formed the foundation of eternal principles. These four virtues correspond to seasonal cycles, human virtues of benevolence-righteousness-propriety-wisdom, and the cosmic cycles of celestial movements.

Cai Qing (style name Zimu) interpreted the Qian hexagram's six lines through historical figures:

1) The initial "hidden dragon" line corresponds to Yan Hui, who perfected virtue without worldly engagement;

2) The second "emerging dragon" line matches Confucius, who timely manifested cultural illumination;

3) The third "cautious dragon" line resembles sage ministers like Gao Yao and Hou Ji, maintaining vigilance in peace;

4) The fourth "leaping dragon" line parallels transformative rulers like Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou during turbulent eras;

5) The fifth "soaring dragon" line embodies the widespread sagely virtue of Yao and Shun;

6) The top "overreaching dragon" line reflects exemplary ministers like Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou, who maintained righteousness at the pinnacle of power. These six lines demonstrate different realms of human attainment.

This scripture compiles interpretations of the Qian (Heaven) hexagram from the Yijing by various scholars, focusing on the relationship between celestial movement and the virtue of sages.

Su Shi (Master Dongpo) observes that those who now soar high once lay concealed—who can say they aren't great figures? Those in such positions all possess methods to avoid regret. What we call "having" is never absolute. Only when Yin and Yang harmonize can they generate all things—this is called the "auspicious rite" (jiali). When actions lack smooth progression, they become obstinate; when they stray from righteousness, they turn callous.

Luo Yizheng analyzes the third yang line of Qian: This line position between two Qian trigrams symbolizes sustained effort; positioned at the top of the lower trigram, it resembles the setting sun. This perilous situation requires diligence throughout the day and vigilance at night to avert misfortune.

Shi Jie (Shou Dao) uses heaven-earth relations to illustrate ruler-minister dynamics: However lofty heaven may be, it must intersect with earth to cycle the seasons and nurture all beings; however exalted the ruler, he must engage with ministers to govern the state and command officials. Only thus can extremes be avoided.

Wang Ji explains "Qian" as representing heaven's virtue: The concentrated vital energy (qi) of heaven and earth forms one's innate nature, with desirelessness being the mind's original state—this is "Qian." The Dao of heaven operates ceaselessly day and night; the sun and moon alternate, the seasons revolve without disorder, due to its steadfast strength. The sage's virtue mirrors this—untiring throughout life, united with heaven. Ordinary people inevitably have desires, yet need not drown in them. Noble persons (junzi) should emulate heaven's way, progressively diminishing desires.

The final section interprets celestial phenomena: Heavenly bodies move with unceasing regularity. The North Star (Niuxing) serves as the celestial pivot—appearing motionless yet rotating without leaving its position. This embodies the Book of Songs teaching that "heaven's mandate runs deep and never rests"—the pivot of creation and the secret transmitted among sages. While Confucianism seldom discusses the realm of emptiness and stillness (xuji), this precisely constitutes the essence of the heavenly Dao.

Confucius explained the principle of resonance (the mutual influence between things) with great detail, for all phenomena of resonance in the world arise from stillness, and all responses originate from emptiness. Emptiness can adapt to change, and stillness can generate miraculous resonance. Without deliberate thought or planning, one can unify the patterns of movement in the world. The impartiality of Emperor Yao, the subtlety of Emperor Shun, the solemnity of King Wen of Zhou, the silence of Confucius, the seeming foolishness of Yan Hui (great wisdom appearing as simplicity), and the tranquility of the Duke of Zhou—all embody this very state.

Conventional scholars, constrained by classical dogmas, find their thinking clouding their understanding of the fundamental nature of emptiness and stillness. This is why the teachings of the sages remain obscure, and the creative transformations of heaven and earth seem almost stagnant.

(The Kun hexagram, symbolizing the Earth, consists of six yin lines.)

The Kun hexagram represents the primordial, the flourishing, and the beneficial, embodying the docile yet steadfast nature of a mare. When a noble person takes action, they may initially feel lost but will eventually find their way. Moving southwest brings companionship, while moving northeast leads to separation. Remaining steadfast in the right path brings auspiciousness.

The "Tuan" commentary states: How magnificent is the Kun origin (the foundation of the Earth)! All things rely on it for growth, gently receiving the Dao of Heaven. The Earth, vast and heavy, carries all things, its virtue boundless, encompassing all and nourishing the flourishing of life. The mare belongs to the Earth category, capable of traversing the land endlessly, docile yet firm in upholding the right path. When a noble person acts, they may first lose their way but later, by following the natural order, return to the proper course. Gaining companions in the southwest means walking with those of the same kind; losing companions in the northeast ultimately brings celebration. The auspiciousness of steadfastness is as boundless as the Earth itself.

The "Xiang" commentary states: The Earth's energy is vast and heavy. The noble person should emulate this virtue, embracing all things with magnanimous character.

First Six line: Treading on frost, one knows the season of solid ice is near.

The "Xiang" explains: Treading on frost signifies the initial coagulation of yin energy. Following this trend, solid ice will eventually form.

Second Six line: Straight, upright, and expansive—without forced cultivation, there is no detriment.

The "Xiang" explains: The movement of the Second Six line is naturally straight and upright. Without forced cultivation, there is no detriment, for the Earth's principle is inherently luminous.

Third Six line: Containing refined patterns, one can remain steadfast. Perhaps serving the king, though not claiming merit, will yield good results.

The "Xiang" explains: Containing refined patterns while remaining steadfast means awaiting the right moment to manifest. Serving the king reflects broad wisdom.

Fourth Six line: Cautious as if tying a sack—no blame, no praise.

The "Xiang" explains: Tying a sack without blame is due to caution preventing harm.

Fifth Six line: A yellow lower garment (symbolizing humility)—great auspiciousness.

The "Xiang" explains: The great auspiciousness of the yellow lower garment lies in the refinement of virtue within.

Top Six line: Dragons battle in the wild, their blood mingling blue and yellow.

The "Xiang" explains: Dragons battling in the wild signify the decline of their Dao.

The "Yong Six" line (unique to the Kun hexagram): Beneficial to eternally remain steadfast in the right path.

The "Xiang" explains: Eternal steadfastness culminates in grand fulfillment.

The "Wenyan" commentary states: The Kun hexagram is supremely yielding, yet in movement it is firm; supremely still, yet its virtue is upright. Finding its master in due course, it follows the constant Dao, embracing all things and nurturing their brilliance. The essence of the Kun Dao is yielding—it moves in harmony with the timeliness of Heaven. Families that accumulate goodness will surely have abundant blessings; those that accumulate wrongdoing will surely have abundant calamities.

This scripture primarily discusses the natural order of relationships between heaven and earth, ruler and subject, husband and wife, and the consequences of violating this order.

It first states that if a family fails to cultivate virtue (De) and accumulate good deeds, calamities will accumulate. When a subject kills their ruler or a son kills their father, these acts are not sudden occurrences but the result of long-term accumulation. As the Book of Changes (Yijing) states, "Treading on thin frost foretells the coming of solid ice," illustrating the inevitable progression of events.

Next, it speaks of the cultivation of a noble person (junzi): the mind must remain upright, and actions must align with righteousness (Dao). The noble person rectifies their inner self through reverence and governs their external conduct with righteousness. In this way, virtue is never isolated—integrity, correctness, and magnanimity need not be deliberately displayed, yet everything proceeds smoothly, and actions are free from hesitation.

It then discusses the nature of the yielding path (Yin): though yielding possesses virtue (De), it must subtly assist the ruler without claiming credit. This is the way of the earth, the duty of a wife, and the principle of a subject. The earth does not compete for merit, yet all things rely on it to grow and flourish.

When heaven and earth operate harmoniously, plants thrive; when they are blocked, the wise retreat into seclusion. The Book of Changes warns, "Tying the sack tightly," advising caution. The noble person, inwardly understanding principles and outwardly upright in conduct, naturally manifests virtue in speech and action, achieving great deeds—this is the most sublime state.

When Yin energy becomes excessive and doubts Yang, conflict arises. Though Yin may appear strong, it remains fundamentally Yin in nature, much like the analogy of dragons and horses: if a dragon is forced to pull a cart or a horse to command the clouds, both lose their inherent nature. Heaven and earth, husband and wife, ruler and subject each have their proper place—they cannot be reversed. Heaven above and earth below is the natural order, just as husband and wife have their distinct roles. Only when each remains in their proper position and fulfills their function can they truly realize their potential.

Finally, it emphasizes that forcibly altering the intrinsic nature of things—such as making a divine dragon perform a horse’s labor or a mare attempt a dragon’s work—causes both to lose their proper abilities. The sages established the order of Qian (Heaven, Yang) and Kun (Earth, Yin) precisely so that all things might find their rightful place.

This scripture discusses the essential characteristics of the Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) hexagrams from the Yijing (Book of Changes). The author argues that Qian (representing heaven, yang, and dynamic strength) and Kun (representing earth, yin, and receptive gentleness) each possess unique functions that cannot substitute or forcibly complement one another.

If Qian were to lose its dynamic strength or Kun its receptive gentleness, they would lose their very reason for existence. Just as heaven would fail to uphold all things if it lacked its celestial nature, or earth would collapse without its stabilizing foundation, the cosmic order would disintegrate. The true Dao of Qian (the Way of Heaven) lies in preserving its innate nature amid transformation, while the true Dao of Kun (the Way of Earth) manifests as movement within stillness and strength within gentleness.

The text particularly highlights the profound meaning behind Kun’s phrase "favorable for the perseverance of a mare." The mare, though gentle, can bear heavy burdens and travel great distances—symbolizing how Kun, despite its receptivity, holds immense utility. When noble individuals emulate the Kun principle, they should embody the mare’s qualities: unwavering focus, refusal to compete for dominance, avoidance of factionalism, and quiet alignment with Qian (the guiding force). This seemingly passive attitude is, in fact, the key to Kun’s capacity for great achievement.

The author critiques certain Confucian scholars’ misunderstandings of Qian and Kun—such as equating dynamic strength with aggression or receptive gentleness with weakness. In truth, the innate natures of Qian and Kun are perfect as they are; there is no need to artificially infuse Qian with gentleness or Kun with strength. Qian is ultimate dynamism and strength; Kun is ultimate gentleness and receptivity. Only by each fulfilling its distinct role does the cosmos operate harmoniously.

At birth, a person’s nature is originally upright. The text speaks of both “straightness” and “rightness” because people often know only that they should be upright, without realizing that uprightness itself also has a quality of being properly aligned. Is the first thought that arises in a person not the expression of this upright nature? As soon as a thought begins to stir, awareness follows: the first thought is straight, and awareness of the thought is straight as well. When the thought subsides, the heart becomes properly aligned. With an inner guide, one’s actions will naturally accord with the right Way. Though “straightness” and “rightness” are discussed separately, together they are one, luminous and expansive. The nature of the earth is vast, and the Way of Kun—the earth, symbolizing receptivity and support in the Classic of Changes—has no boundaries. The reason it cannot exist in isolation lies here. That is why the line text places “straightness” and “rightness” side by side.

“Straightness” means correctness; “rightness” means what is fitting. Correctness lies in stilling deluded thoughts, while what is fitting lies in acting appropriately. Stilling deluded thoughts is reverence. Here, “reverence” does not mean deliberately putting on a certain appearance; it simply means that the heart is upright by nature. Acting appropriately is rightness. Here, “rightness” does not mean striving to obtain something; it simply means acting in a way that benefits the circumstances. Must such uprightness and appropriateness be learned before they can be achieved? They are naturally possible without study, and bring benefit in every respect. What is there to doubt?

Appendix

Su Shi explains: “The dragon can transform and act as it wishes; the horse, by contrast, is docile and serves at another’s direction. The Way of Kun is used like a horse, and is characterized by the gentleness of a mare. If gentleness reaches its extreme but does not keep to the right Way, it will fall into perversity. Hence the phrase, ‘It is favorable to be steadfast like a mare’—it is beneficial to be gentle like a mare and remain upright.”

Li Tuoweng says: “When gentleness reaches its extreme, it cannot fail to keep to what is right. To be utterly receptive is to follow the Way of Qian—the heaven, symbolizing the active and governing principle in the Classic of Changes. Since it follows the Way of Qian, how could it fail to remain upright? As for ‘gaining companions’—receiving help from those of one’s own kind—or gathering with one’s own kind or traveling southwest, this means that a Yin, gentle nature attaches itself to others of the Yin, gentle kind. How could it then give its undivided attention to following the Way of Qian and attain the state of great receptivity?”

He also explains: “The Way of Kun can serve others, but cannot take the lead on its own; it can cooperate and bring things into harmony, but should not be the first to initiate. Therefore, it is favorable for the noble person to undertake a journey. Taking the lead brings one astray; following afterward allows one to move with the situation and fulfill one’s aims. That is why this is said to be favorable. The west and south correspond to Dui, Li, and Xun, which are all of the same kind. The east and north correspond to Zhen, Kan, and Gen, which are not of the same kind. Two Yin lines cannot serve one another; therefore, one must leave one’s own kind, sever partisan ties, and turn toward the northeast.”

Li Tuoweng adds: “Qian is the master of Kun. Since Qian is already the master, there is no need to seek elsewhere. Once one turns to seeking, the desire to gain help from one’s own kind arises, and one can no longer give undivided attention to following Qian.”

He also explains: “With a Yin line in the second position among the six lines, one may say that it is gentle and receptive.”

This passage elucidates the profound philosophy of the Kun hexagram (symbolizing earth and receptivity) from the Book of Changes. The core teaching reveals that true receptivity is not weakness, but rather alignment with natural laws while maintaining selfless equanimity. Just as the earth appears supremely yielding and still, it inherently contains vigorous strength and the virtuous quality of unwavering integrity.

The commentator "Bald Elder" (possibly an annotator) emphasizes that ultimate softness paradoxically transforms into firmness, while profound stillness manifests righteous virtue. When the yin energy develops to the fourth line (Six-Four line), one must exercise caution like tying a sack tightly, for this position easily falls into the dilemma of facing either blame or praise—commendation invites suspicion while reproach incurs fault, making the middle path of "neither praise nor blame" most challenging to maintain.

Later, the metaphor of "yellow lower garments" illustrates this principle: yellow represents the middle way, while the undergarment symbolizes humility. True virtue resides not in external ornamentation ("wen"), but in the inner quality of balanced centrality ("yellow center"). Like the earth that seeks no gaudy display, its true value lies in its intrinsic harmony.

Cheng Yi (Cheng Zhengshu) supplements that yin energy should follow yang (as the southwest yin position submits to the northeast yang position), otherwise it loses its foundation. Zhu Xi (Zhu Zhonghui) further explains: the Kun hexagram's six yin lines represent pure receptivity, yet the fifth line—though a yin line in the sovereign position—achieves internal-external penetration precisely because it embodies central harmony.

Through hexagram analysis, this text unveils the Daoist wisdom that "the soft overcomes the hard," emphasizing how authentic power stems from cultivating alignment with the Dao and maintaining centered integrity.

This passage presents multiple scholarly interpretations of the Kun hexagram (symbolizing earth and yielding yin energy) from the Book of Changes. When Nan Kuai consulted the oracle during his rebellion and obtained the auspicious line "Yellow skirt, supreme fortune," Zifu Huibo warned that only actions rooted in loyalty and sincerity could validate this omen—otherwise, failure was inevitable. Yellow represents centered virtue, while the skirt (lower garment) symbolizes humility; without inner loyalty, respectful conduct, and virtuous deeds, even favorable divination results would lead to defeat.

Jin Rubai explains the yin-yang dynamic: Yang energy should naturally lead, with yin following as its proper course. When yin presumes precedence, it loses its way; only by yielding to yang's guidance can it find benefit. Yin must relinquish attachment to its own kind (losing companions) to achieve auspicious alignment.

Various scholars analyze Kun's lines: Zheng Zhifu views the hexagram as embodying King Wen's cautious devotion while serving the Shang dynasty; Zhou Yan notes how the initial line's "frost hardening into ice" warns of danger at the peak of prosperity; Liu Junbo interprets the third line's "contained brilliance" as yin enveloping yang, while the fourth line's "tied sack" signifies yin's constriction, foreshadowing mutual destruction in ruler-minister conflict.

Both Hu Zhonghu and You Dingfu emphasize the consequences of yin-yang confrontation: even at its zenith, yin's struggle with yang inevitably brings mutual ruin (their blood dark and yellow). Yang Jingzhong concludes that when yin reaches its extreme, it may appear to overwhelm yang—yet yang never truly vanishes. Collectively, these readings unveil the Book of Changes' core teaching of yin-yang equilibrium and the principle that all extremes contain their reversal.

This passage from the Yi Yin, Upper and Lower Classics mainly explains the image and line statements of the Zhun hexagram in the Classic of Changes. Zhun consists of Zhen (Thunder) below and Kan (Water) above, symbolizing the difficulties that arise when all things are first coming into being.

The text first points out that although things are in a weak, initial state, represented by the uppermost Yin line, they still contain a vigorous Yang force, symbolized by the dragon. The sage deliberately uses the image of the dragon to remind people not to forget the vigorous Yang nature inherent in things. The metaphor of “blood,” which belongs to Yin, shows that Yin and Yang depend on each other and that harm affects both sides.

On the interpretation of “using six” and “using nine”: a six-line hexagram contains the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. Each has the two modes of Yin and Yang, so six lines form a hexagram. The relationship between six and three gives expression to the use of nine, the Yang number.

The Zhun hexagram statement says that although founding something is difficult—“great development; beneficial to remain steadfast”—one should not undertake ventures recklessly: “do not go anywhere.” This is a suitable time to establish a foundation: “beneficial to establish feudal lords.” The Commentary on the Judgment explains that Yin and Yang encounter difficulty as soon as they begin to join: “the firm and the yielding first join, and difficulty arises.” Movement takes place amid danger. It is like thunder and rain filling Heaven and Earth; all things are just beginning, still in a state of confusion and obscurity. At such a time, a ruler should be established to bring stability, for there is no peace.

The six lines are explained in turn:

The initial Nine: Hesitation and delay—“hesitating”—are appropriate; it is beneficial to remain settled and steadfast, and beneficial to establish a feudal lord. By lowering oneself, despite one’s noble status, to treat those of low rank with respect, one can win the people’s support.

The second Six: Progress is difficult—“advancing with difficulty and delay”—and the horse circles back and forth. The rider is no bandit, but comes to seek a marriage alliance. The woman remains steadfast and does not marry; only after ten years does she marry. Because the second Six, a Yin line, sits above the initial Nine, a Yang line, it must wait for the right moment to return to the proper way.

The third Six: Hunting a deer without a guide will only lead one astray in the forest. For a noble person who sees the signs, it is better to give up; going forward will bring regret. Blindly following the quarry and pressing on will only lead to difficulty.

The fourth Six: The horse circles back and forth; one goes forward to seek a marriage alliance. Going forward is auspicious and brings no disadvantage, because the purpose is clear.

The fifth Nine: One’s resources are held back. Steadfastness in small matters brings good fortune; steadfastness in great matters brings misfortune, because the benefits bestowed have not been broad enough.

The uppermost Six: The horse circles back and forth, and blood flows in unending tears. How could this state last?

Finally, the text explains that Zhun follows Kun in sequence. The Yang line of Zhen comes to rest beneath Kun, symbolizing Yin and Yang beginning to join. Kan lies ahead, creating an obstacle, and difficulty arises. This is precisely the meaning of “Zhun.”

This passage explains the meaning of the hexagram image of Tun (Difficulty at the Beginning) in the Book of Changes. Tun symbolizes the chaotic state when Heaven and Earth first open and all things begin to arise, like a true sovereign rising from obscurity. At this time, Yang energy has only just begun to stir. Though it is amid danger, represented by the Kan trigram, there is an inherent path toward success and progress. A true ruler therefore need not actively recruit people; they will naturally come to join him. This is the right moment to establish a foundation.

When thunder and rain fill Heaven and Earth, it is time to accomplish great things, not to settle into ease. The single Yang line of the Zhen trigram occupies the lower position, symbolizing someone who, despite noble standing, treats others with humility and thereby wins the people’s hearts. Such a person is suited to establishing a foundation in turbulent times. Heaven’s timing is like this, and human affairs must correspond. The Nine at the Beginning seizes the moment and acts. Though its presence is powerful, it leaves no visible trace; it remains steadfast and upright, unmoving as a great stone. People therefore come of their own accord. Hence the saying, “Though it hesitates and does not advance, its intent and conduct are upright.” This righteous force is enough to shake the world.

The Six in the Second position combines the virtue of yielding, gentleness, and centrality with the strength and uprightness of the Nine at the Beginning. This gives rise to the difficult image of “hesitating and not advancing, with a horse circling in place.” The Six in the Second position originally guarded its integrity and was reluctant to unite with the Nine at the Beginning. Yet the Nine at the Beginning was the one in whom everyone placed their hopes, and it actively sought a marriage alliance. Only after ten years did the Six in the Second position consent to the match. This conduct, contrary to ordinary expectations, is the inevitable way in which sages are brought together.

The Six in the Third position stands amid the chaos of a contested age, longing day and night to gain something. But lacking a responsive partner above, it would be wiser to give up. The Six in the Fourth position, by contrast, acts wisely: amid the difficulties of Tun, it should, like the Nine at the Beginning, carefully seek a proper match. If it sets out, it will meet with good fortune.

The Nine at the Beginning is the true ruler. Even the Nine in the Fifth position, though upright and auspicious, cannot escape hardship in the Tun hexagram or fully realize its ambitions. Small undertakings may bring good fortune, but great ones are dangerous. What use is it, then, to hold fast to the right path? As in the story of Emperor Taizu of Song and Qian Chu, King of Wuyue, the outcome is ultimately unification.

This passage discusses interpretations of the line statements in the Jing (classic) of Changes, specifically the hexagram Zhun, which symbolizes the difficulties that arise when all things are just beginning to emerge. Several scholars analyze how to conduct oneself in times of hardship from different perspectives.

When the world is just beginning and all things are in chaos—a condition symbolized by Zhun—it is like turmoil amid thunder and rain. At such a time, the first line, at the very bottom, may seem immovable, like a rock or a wooden stake, and appear to make no progress. Inwardly, however, it remains true to the right path. As in the union of a man and a woman, firmness and yielding must complement each other. This is a natural accord and need not be forced.

In troubled times, the people long for a wise ruler. A king should bring order to the realm through policies that combine firmness with gentleness, as thunder and rain wash away what is foul. If he blindly chases a herd of deer without knowing the way, as in the allusion “pursuing deer without a guide,” his efforts will come to nothing. Some people lack real ability yet still dream of achieving great things, as the third line suggests. Like someone setting out to hunt deer without preparation, they will only waste their strength and end up in difficulty.

Several commentators especially point out that in times of turmoil, the higher one’s position, as with the top line, the easier it is to lose one’s way. It is like someone riding a horse in circles, weeping tears of blood yet unable to find a way forward. Confucius lamented that such a state could not last. These are all errors caused by failing to understand the times. By contrast, the humble and unassuming first line can win the people’s trust because it accords with the deeper meaning of Zhun: using stillness to govern movement.

(Note: “Zhen” refers to the Zhen trigram of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), which symbolizes thunder. “First line,” “third line,” and so on indicate positions in a hexagram, counted from the bottom upward. “Firmness and yielding first come into contact” refers to the state in which Yin and Yang energies begin to interact.)

This passage explains the hexagram images of “Sprouting” (Tun) and “Youthful Folly” (Meng) in the Book of Changes.

On “Sprouting,” Wang Ji explains that when Heaven and Earth bring the myriad things into being, they have only just begun to emerge. For this reason, the Tun hexagram follows “Heaven” (Qian) and “Earth” (Kun). At this stage, the Yin and Yang energies have just begun to mingle, but their interaction is not yet smooth. It is like plants that have just sprouted and have not yet unfolded, or a world beset by calamities and hardship that has not yet found peace. A noble person, observing the image of Tun, should bring order to the affairs of the world as one untangles disordered threads. The phrase “weaving and ordering” originally refers to arranging threads and, by extension, means governing. In this way, the noble person helps people through difficult times. This resembles the ancient, primordial age, when Heaven and Earth had just opened and a noble person set out to establish a new undertaking. When clouds gather above thunder, Yin and Yang have just begun to mingle, but rain has not yet formed: this is the Tun hexagram. When clouds gather below thunder, rain has already formed, and the hexagram becomes “Deliverance” (Xie).

Yang Jingzhong explains the pattern of correspondence among the six lines: the first line corresponds to the fourth, the second to the fifth, and the third to the top line. This is because, when two trigrams are stacked to form a hexagram, the fourth line of the upper trigram is in effect the first line of the lower trigram. For lines to correspond, however, one must be Yin and the other Yang. If both are Yin or both Yang, they do not correspond. For example, the Six in the Third Place and the Six at the Top are both Yin lines, so they cannot correspond. This gives rise to the image of “pursuing a deer without a guide.”

The judgment of the Meng hexagram says: “In youthful folly, there is success. It is not I who seek the young and foolish; the young and foolish seek me. On the first divination, I give instruction. If asked again and again, that is disrespectful; to be disrespectful is to receive no instruction. It is favorable to remain upright.”

The Commentary on the Judgment explains: “There is danger below the mountain; when faced with danger, one stops. This is youthful folly. The success of Meng comes from acting in accord with the time. It is not I who seek the young and foolish; they come to me. This is a meeting of intentions. On the first divination, instruction is given because the hexagram contains a firm Yang line in the central position. To ask repeatedly is disrespectful, and the disrespectful receive no instruction. In this way, the young and foolish can be nurtured in the right path. This is the work of the sage.”

The Commentary on the Images says: “A spring wells up below the mountain: this is the image of initiation and instruction. In response, the noble person acts decisively and cultivates virtue.”

The Six in the First Place says: “To bring instruction to the young and foolish, it is appropriate to use punishments to establish discipline. But excessive use of fetters and restraints will make it difficult to proceed.” The Commentary on the Images says that punishments are used to set the standards of law aright.

The Nine in the Second Place says: “To be tolerant toward the young and foolish is auspicious. Taking a wife is auspicious; the son will be capable of managing the household.”

This passage comes from the "Meng Hexagram" (Hexagram of Childhood) in the Book of Changes, primarily discussing the Dao of educational enlightenment. The hexagram image shows danger beneath a mountain (Mountain over Water), symbolizing how people in a state of ignorance require proper guidance.

Interpretation of the line statements:

The third yin line advises against marrying a woman who loses herself upon meeting wealthy men, as such behavior deviates from the Dao. The fourth yin line depicts the distress of being trapped in ignorance due to distancing from reality. The fifth yin line describes the auspiciousness of childlike sincerity in seeking instruction, for it embodies humility and receptivity. The top yang line warns that forced enlightenment brings harm, while guarding against erroneous teaching proves beneficial—the key lies in proper coordination between teacher and student.

Core philosophy:

The state of ignorance reflects human nature; nurturing this nascent state cultivates the true Dao, constituting the practical cultivation for attaining sagehood. Like divination, the first sincere inquiry receives an answer ("initial consultation is answered"), but pestering repeatedly brings no response ("harassment receives no reply")—this prevents disturbing the seeker's original mind. True enlightenment should embrace natural growth like nurturing a child; forced indoctrination ("striking ignorance") damages learning like banditry.

The text emphasizes seizing the proper timing in education ("stopping when stopping is timely, acting when action is timely"). The sage's approach to the ignorant mirrors that toward children. The crux lies in the learner's active seeking ("the ignorant child seeks me"), not the teacher's forceful imposition. The second yang line, centrally positioned and upright, symbolizes the educator's proper attitude; the top yang line warns against the dangers of excessive interference.

This passage primarily discusses the relationship between "ignorance" (an unenlightened, uncultivated state) and "compliance" (adaptation and cultivation), as well as how to properly guide those in darkness toward the correct path.

The text observes that if those in superior positions lack proper conduct themselves, they cannot inspire genuine compliance in subordinates. True sages govern the world by aligning with natural laws—they need no rewards to inspire people toward goodness. The scripture criticizes those who resist enlightenment, comparing them to people who willingly don shackles; only proper methods can remove such constraints.

Illustrative examples are given: The "Six-Four" line represents an honest person who becomes isolated due to ignorance; the "Six-Five" line symbolizes a pliable, unenlightened child—whether as wife or son, harmony emerges when firmness and flexibility balance. However, the "Six-Three" line depicts a woman who, though awakened, abandons her proper role; such individuals offer no benefit to the unenlightened.

The author notes how worldly people often outsmart themselves—forsaking righteousness for petty gains. While true sages comprehend tenfold from hearing one principle, others mistake the realm of emptiness for mere poverty. Most lamentable are those shackled by ignorance yet content in their delusion—such individuals prove hardest to enlighten.

Finally, Wang Benke's perspective is cited: After Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) comes the "Zhun-Meng" state (primordial ignorance represented by the Zhun and Meng hexagrams in the Yijing). Herein lies the sage's transformative method of education. During eras of ignorance when hearts remain constrained, the sage's world-shaping mission is precisely to enlighten all beings.

(Note: "Zhun-Meng" refers to the primal state of chaotic beginnings symbolized by the Zhun and Meng hexagrams in the Yijing; "Six-Four," "Six-Five," etc. denote specific line positions in Yijing hexagram analysis.)

The "Zhun" and "Meng" hexagrams in the Book of Changes describe the nascent state of all things. "Zhun" depicts the primal chaos of heaven and earth's emergence, while "Meng" symbolizes human innocence at birth. Just as seedlings need protection, people in this ignorant stage must establish defenses (jianhou yukou) against external harm.

Wang Bi (Wang Fusi) explains: Nothing is brighter than the sage, nothing more ignorant than an infant. Cultivating the proper path through this state of ignorance demonstrates the sage's transformative power. Artificial cultivation through cleverness would instead lose the natural Dao.

Cheng Yi (Cheng Zhengshu) analyzes the hexagram imagery: The Gen trigram represents mountain and stillness, while Kan signifies water and danger. Danger beneath a mountain (Meng's structure) makes one halt in uncertainty—this perfectly captures the ignorant state.

You Zuo (You Dingfu) elaborates: Like a spring newly emerging from mountains (described in Meng's image text as "a spring beneath a mountain"), the undivided water current hasn't yet fully manifested its power. Observing this undeveloped potential reveals the principle of decisive action (guoxing), while witnessing the water's undistracted purity illuminates the method for nurturing virtue (yude).

Wang Ji's insight proves particularly profound: Mountain springs are originally clear, quiet sources—neither rushing east nor west, nor muddied by sediment. Simply guided by their nature, they naturally reach the sea. The noble person emulates Meng's lesson by using decisive action to cultivate virtue—the water's persistence embodies "decisiveness" (guo), the mountain's steadfastness represents "nurturing" (yu). That pure, undeveloped state is "Meng," the foundation for sagehood. Later scholars mistakenly treated "Meng" as mere foolishness, artificially carving it and fostering cunning—like muddying clear springs or forcibly redirecting currents, thereby destroying innate purity. In truth, all cultivation lies within this "Meng": cosmically, as dawn's potential within night; humanly, as awakening within chaos. Mencius' statement that "the great person never loses their childlike heart-mind" precisely describes maintaining this original genuineness within ignorance.

The Xu hexagram (Qian below Kan above) teaches the wisdom of waiting. "Xu" means awaiting—though danger lies ahead (Kan as danger), one's vigorous virtue (Qian as strength) prevents entrapment. Maintaining sincerity (youfu) brings brilliant success (guangheng), while upholding correctness (zhenji) allows crossing great rivers' perils (li shedachuan). The image shows clouds above heaven (yun shang yu tian), indicating the noble person should now feast and gather strength.

Specifically: The initial nine-line advises waiting in the wilderness—perseverance avoids fault, warning against rashly confronting difficulty. The second nine-line describes waiting on sand—despite some criticism, ultimate fortune comes. Nearer the danger (water) than the wilderness, this demands greater patience.

This passage explains the meanings of each line in the "Xu" hexagram (symbolizing awaiting the right moment) from the Book of Changes:

The Xu hexagram depicts water in the heavens, awaiting the moment to descend as rain. When facing difficulties, the most challenging virtue for capable individuals is refraining from hasty advancement.

The initial nine line speaks of waiting in the wilderness, admonishing us that only through perseverance can we avoid mistakes. The second nine line describes waiting on the sandbank (where water is about to reach) - though hearing idle gossip, ultimate good fortune comes from maintaining the Middle Way.

The third nine line warns of sinking into mud and inviting robbers, illustrating how excessive rigidity leads to poor judgment. While caution may prevent complete failure, it's better not to enter the mire initially. This shows even the heaven-like strength of the Qian hexagram can encounter difficulties through reckless advancement.

The fourth six line depicts waiting amidst bloodshed (the Kan trigram symbolizing danger), yet escaping through compliance with circumstances. The fifth nine line speaks of waiting amid wine and food (representing comfortable circumstances), achieving good fortune by maintaining centrality and correctness.

The top six line describes entering a cave (symbolizing peril), where three uninvited guests (representing other yang lines) arrive. Treating them respectfully brings eventual good fortune. Though positioned unfavorably, no major faults occur.

Overall interpretation: When facing danger, the strong tend to rush forward and invite disaster, while the yielding adapt skillfully. The key lies in assessing timing and circumstances, maintaining balanced composure during appropriate waiting. Even in peril, one can transform danger into safety. The Xu hexagram teaches us patience in all matters, warning against impulsive advancement.

This passage discusses the wisdom of the ninth line in the fifth place, a yang line, and the top sixth line, a yin line, in the Xu hexagram of the Yijing, which symbolizes waiting for the right moment. The ninth line in the fifth place occupies the central position. Though it may face harm, it does not rush recklessly forward, displaying the strength of centrality and correctness. The top sixth line lies at the summit of the Kan trigram, which symbolizes danger. It ought to leave the peril behind, but impatience instead draws it into even greater danger. Yet the text points out that even in danger, the ninth line in the third place comes to help as an “uninvited guest.” The ninth line in the third place is aligned with the top sixth line, and now, acting with caution, has left danger behind and come to its aid. If the top sixth line treats it with respect, the danger can still be turned into safety.

The author stresses that the hidden weakness of yin softness is difficulty breaking through a predicament, while the hidden weakness of yang strength is an inability to wait patiently. The Xu hexagram is precisely the teaching the sages devised for those of yang strength. “It is beneficial to remain constant” admonishes one to hold fast to the right path; “there will be a little talk” advises care in speech; and “bring about the arrival of bandits” warns the ninth line in the third place. All these admonitions stem from the ninth line in the fifth place. Although it is in danger, it forgets the danger and focuses only on the needs of food and drink, symbolizing attention to fundamentals. This is like the ninth line in the second place of the Kun hexagram, which remains at ease despite being in a difficult situation. This attitude is the highest wisdom for responding to both “waiting” and “distress.”

In an appendix, two scholars add that the sixth line in the fourth place can listen compliantly to the ninth line in the fifth place, while the other lines mostly display the vigor of Qian, meaning excessive firmness, or the overextension of yin, meaning excessive softness; they find it difficult to wait and heed advice. Without the ninth line in the fifth place presiding from the heavenly position of supreme authority and repeatedly admonishing them through the Dao of centrality and correctness, it would be even harder for people to attain the wisdom of “waiting.” Jin Rubai observes that both yin lines in the Kan trigram, the sixth line in the fourth place and the top sixth line, mention a “cave,” just as the first and third lines of the Kan trigram both mention “pit.” Wang Jun says that Qian is vigorous and advances upward; when it encounters danger, it can refrain from rushing forward. Thus, “waiting” contains a way to fulfillment. But if one delays and fails to advance because of a weak, yielding nature, one will miss the opportunity.

This passage discusses the Contention hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yi Jing)—the Heaven over Water hexagram—and the principles that determine whether disputes bring good or ill fortune. Its image is Heaven above and Water below, moving in opposite directions and thus foreshadowing conflict.

The hexagram text says: When contention arises, sincerity (fu) in one’s heart may still meet with obstruction (zhi). Yet if one remains vigilant (ti), the process will be relatively auspicious, though the final outcome is often unfavorable. It is fitting to seek the counsel of a person of high virtue and standing, but not to take the risk of crossing a great river.

The individual lines are interpreted as follows:

The first line, Six at the Beginning, says not to prolong a dispute. There may be some argument and recrimination, but the outcome will be good. Contention should not drag on: a minor quarrel is best settled by clarifying the matter.

The second line, Nine in the Second Place, says that after losing a dispute, one retreats to one’s own fief, where the three hundred households are spared involvement. This warns that a person of lower status who contends with someone above them may invite trouble.

The third line, Six in the Third Place, says to remain steadfast in the Virtue handed down by one’s ancestors. Though circumstances may be difficult, the outcome will be auspicious. If serving the ruler, one should not claim credit.

The fourth line, Nine in the Fourth Place, says that after losing a dispute, one should return to the right path. By changing one’s attitude and keeping to one’s proper role, one will find good fortune. Correcting one’s course in time prevents loss.

The fifth line, Nine in the Fifth Place, says that a fair judgment in a dispute is most auspicious, because it upholds the centered and correct way.

The top line, Nine at the Top, says that official robes and a belt won through contention may be stripped away several times in a single day. This shows that what is gained through dispute is not worthy of respect.

Fang Shihua, a Ming dynasty scholar of the Book of Changes, adds this explanation: The hexagram has strength above and danger below; contention arises when force meets peril. But how can contention truly succeed? How can it last? Fortunately, the person represented by the Nine in the Fifth Place embodies the centered and correct way and can bring the dispute to an end. The firm and central Nine in the Second Place allows contention to resolve naturally, before it sinks into the abyss. Yang represents what is substantial; Yin represents what is insubstantial. When Yang is trapped in Yin’s peril, the obstruction is plain. Contention arises because of obstruction, while vigilance keeps the conflict from continuing.

This passage explains the profound meaning of the Nine in the Fifth Place—the most honored yang line—in the Dispute Hexagram of the Book of Changes (Yijing), which symbolizes contention. When people encounter the Nine in the Fifth Place, a sign of justice, they feel shame and regret at once and flee before the thought of arguing can even arise. This is because the line lies between two dangerous positions, the second and the top, where disputes could easily set off a chain reaction. But if people yield in time, three hundred households around them can be spared calamity.

The passage examines the relationships among the lines of the Dispute Hexagram. The first and fourth lines have no wish to pursue a dispute to the end. The top and third lines are not contentious by nature either; they respond only because they fear someone may incite trouble. The authority of the Nine in the Fifth Place also brings a reward—the sash—to the top line, which then ends its dispute. This shows that all five lines in the hexagram allow contention to subside on their own out of respect for the justice of the Nine in the Fifth Place.

The Nine in the Fifth Place is greatly auspicious because it occupies the center and holds to what is right. It embodies the idea that, when hearing disputes, I may be much like others, but what matters more is preventing people from quarreling in the first place. That is why the line statement says only “Dispute: supreme good fortune,” not “Hearing disputes: supreme good fortune.” True wisdom lies in preventing trouble before it begins.

To consider the individual lines: the first line is yielding and content, and stops after a little self-defense; the fourth and fifth lines are united in their allegiance to the Nine in the Fifth Place; and the top line, though strong, ultimately ends its dispute out of shame. The appended commentaries by Yang Zhongli and Wang Ji further clarify the point: just as the heavens revolve to the left while water naturally flows east, the noble person must prevent the possibility of contention at its source. They use the celestial image of “Heaven and water moving in opposite directions” to show that the five planets’ apparent movement to the right and the heavens’ rotation to the left may seem contrary but are in fact harmonious. This suggests that resolving disputes requires knowing how to act in accordance with the natural course of things.

This passage from the Yi Yin Shangxia Jing discusses the wisdom of the "Shi Gua" (the Army hexagram, symbolizing military forces and collective action). At its core, it teaches that leading people requires steadfast adherence to the Dao (the Way) and the appointment of virtuous and capable individuals.

The hexagram's image consists of Kan (Water) below and Kun (Earth) above, symbolizing water contained within the earth. Just as water finds stability by adhering to the earth, leading a group requires alignment with the Dao. The hexagram statement declares: "If the army maintains the Dao and appoints virtuous elders, there will be good fortune and no error."

The commentary highlights three essential principles for leadership: first, upright conduct (zhenzheng, "correct and steadfast"); second, resolute and balanced authority (gangzhong, "firm yet centered"); and third, alignment with the will of Heaven (cheng tian chong, "receiving Heaven's favor"). This is likened to a ruler repeatedly honoring a general—because the general serves with the welfare of all in mind. However, if military discipline collapses (shi chu yi lv fou, "the army marches without order") or leadership is misguided (dizi yu shi, "inexperienced youths carry corpses"), even good intentions will lead to misfortune.

Two key points are emphasized: First, authority must be entrusted exclusively to the wise and capable (represented by the "Nine in the Second Place," the elder). If incompetent "disciples" are allowed to interfere, it is like sending both the eldest and younger sons to lead a hunt—failure is inevitable. Second, discernment between loyalty and deceit is crucial. When rewarding merit after victory, petty individuals must not be elevated, lest they bring chaos to the state.

The passage concludes by stressing that the art of leadership lies in "zhen" (steadfast correctness)—just as hunting requires a clear target (tian you qin, "the field holds game"), military action must have righteous justification (li zhi yan, "beneficial to uphold just words"). Leading people with the Dao ensures both national stability and willing followership. Yet without understanding the necessity of trusting the capable, even the most virtuous and talented generals will struggle to succeed.

This scripture primarily discusses the challenges of commanding an army, emphasizing the crucial need to appoint a respected "elder" (zhangren, referring to a commander of high prestige) to lead and to place unwavering trust in him. The text uses the hexagram lines from the Book of Changes (Yijing) to illustrate this:

The Nine in the Second Line occupies the central position in the lower trigram, symbolizing a suitable candidate for leadership, while the Six in the Fifth Line corresponds to it, suggesting the potential for appointment. However, the danger lies in divided authority and mixed directives. The Six at the Bottom Line warns of "violating military discipline" (shilü) as soon as the campaign begins, because military orders must be issued solely by the supreme commander. If the Six at the Bottom acts independently, it constitutes a breach of discipline.

Although the Six in the Fifth Line appoints the Nine in the Second as commander, the Six at the Bottom still risks defying orders, and the Six in the Third Line carries the ominous sign of "transporting corpses" (yushi, indicating defeat). Moreover, the Six in the Fifth cannot avoid appointing "disciples" (inexperienced subordinates) and "petty men." This stems from the yielding nature of the Kun (Earth) trigram, which tends to foster such situations.

Only the Six in the Fourth Line holds an appropriate position, serving as a "lieutenant general" (pian jiangjun) who remains steadfast on the left flank, awaiting orders. The scripture stresses that the appearance of "transporting corpses" signifies a major defeat. If the Six in the Fifth allows disciples to participate in decision-making, disaster will follow. This is because the Nine in the Second represents yang strength, the eldest son, and the elder, while the Six at the Bottom and the Six in the Third embody yin softness, symbolizing disciples and petty men who should only obey the commander's directives.

Finally, the text cites an example from the Tang Dynasty: Emperor Daizong appointed the eunuch Yu Chao'en as "Army Surveillance Commissioner" (guanjun rongshi) to oversee the military, leading even renowned generals like Li Guangbi (of Línhuái) and Guo Ziyi (of Fényáng) to suffer defeats. This demonstrates that even when a ruler and his commanders have endured hardships together, failure is inevitable if the ruler fails to trust his generals wholeheartedly and instead listens to petty men.

This passage primarily discusses principles of governance and military strategy. The text states that appointing petty individuals will bring disgrace to the state, as such people are weak-willed and easily swayed. As indicated by the fifth yin line of the Shi (Army) hexagram in the Yijing (Book of Changes), sages repeatedly warn us to be vigilant against such situations.

The appendix compiles interpretations from various scholars:

Su Shi (Dongpo) argues that true military commanders should resemble venerable elders of great virtue (De), where ancient kings emphasized virtuous governance rather than military display. Armies should move as secretly as water flowing underground, remaining undetectable. Liu Yongxiang points out that the correspondence between the second and fifth lines symbolizes a ruler bestowing favors upon ministers through proper hierarchical channels.

Xiong Guo explains ancient military organization: five soldiers formed a squad (wu), five squads a company (liang), five companies a battalion (zu), and five battalions a brigade (lü)—all based on multiples of five. The term "yu shi" (carrying corpses) in ancient times referred to collective decision-making.

Yang Jingzhong employs the metaphor of water flowing through land: an army, like water, requires containment to gather; without proper vessels, it cannot assemble.

The latter section discusses the Bi (Closeness) hexagram:

The Bi hexagram (Earth below, Water above) symbolizes intimate connection. Its judgment states that closeness brings good fortune, with no misfortune in long-term divinations. Restless feudal lords will come to pledge allegiance, while latecomers face misfortune.

Line interpretations:

First Six: Approaching others with sincerity (cheng) brings no harm; when sincerity overflows, unexpected blessings follow.

Second Six: Closeness arising from inner authenticity brings auspiciousness through proper conduct.

Third Six: Associating with improper companions invites harm.

Fourth Six: Outwardly bonding with worthy individuals brings auspiciousness through correctness.

Fifth Nine: Open and upright closeness. The king employs the three-sided hunt (leaving one direction open), releasing animals at the front while townspeople remain unwary—signifying good fortune.

These passages elucidate principles of interpersonal relations and statecraft, emphasizing sincerity (cheng), proper conduct (zheng), and alignment with the virtuous and capable.

This passage analyzes the hexagram imagery of "Bi" (Closeness) from the Book of Changes. The topmost sixth line (Shang Liu) faces misfortune when failing to find a leader to attach to. The Xiang Commentary explains that lacking a proper figure to follow means no favorable outcome.

The Bi hexagram combines Water (Kan) above Earth (Kun), symbolizing how water naturally flows downward—a metaphor for subordinates properly yielding to superiors. Here, the fifth line (Jiu Wu) stands as the sole yang line, with all yin lines drawing near it. Being firm yet balanced while embodying "enduring constancy" (yuan yong zhen), it naturally attracts followers without calamity.

The second line (Liu Er), initially unsettled, determines through divination to attach to Jiu Wu, thus gaining auspiciousness without misfortune—exemplifying how "finding proper attachment brings stability." The fourth line (Liu Si), sharing the upper trigram with Jiu Wu, outwardly attaches to it. By drawing near the virtuous and serving the worthy while seeking stability through proper alignment, it naturally attains good fortune.

The bottommost first line (Chu Liu), positioned at the lowest level, initially lacks stable attachment and feels restless. Yet by initiating connection with sincerity, it too avoids misfortune. Like water naturally pooling in low places, when sincerity fills one's being, it ultimately brings the fourth line's auspiciousness—far beyond mere avoidance of harm. Thus, when restlessness prompts active seeking of proper connection, other blessings will surely follow.

Jiu Wu, yang and centered, resembles a true sovereign whom all approach willingly. For those yet unattached, it employs the "three-drive hunt" method (an ancient hunting practice leaving one escape route to show benevolence), inspiring without coercion. Such selfless magnanimity makes people submit willingly, explaining why lower lines vie to connect.

The topmost sixth line (Shang Liu) resembles game refusing the hunter—if the third line rejects Jiu Wu to cling to Shang Liu, harm follows. By contrast, Chu Liu, Liu Er, and Liu Si resemble common people submitting naturally without admonishment. Positioned at Bi's apex yet lacking proper attachment, Shang Liu's peril is self-evident—truly "not knowing what end" awaits.

This passage from the Yi Jing (Classic of Changes), “Bì” (Holding Together), explains the principle of joining with and relying on others. The hexagram symbolizes closeness and attachment, but the choice of whom to rely on matters. If no suitable leader can be found and one nevertheless forces oneself to attach to the fifth line, which represents the ruler’s position, the result will be perilous. Wang Bi (Wang Fusi) explains that there is no firm Yang force above or below to lead the people; only the fifth line stands alone in a position of honor, so everyone has no choice but to turn to it. Yet the stability of this forced attachment is false, and the sources of instability will sooner or later come to light.

Su Shi (Lord Po) holds that attachment is auspicious in itself, but relying on the wrong person may seem fortunate now and bring calamity later. “Consulting the oracle at the outset” means divining repeatedly and choosing carefully whom to rely on. Zhao Rumei points out that, regardless of whether the lines in “Holding Together” correspond, its central meaning is to attach oneself to the fifth line. Ban Gu explains that the word “beasts” is a general term for birds and animals, here indicating those brought under another’s control. Bu Zixia says that attachment without sincerity, made only when one has nowhere else to turn, will ultimately fail to escape punishment.

The “Small Taming” hexagram concerns the process of building strength. Its image is Qian (Heaven) below and Xun (Wind) above: dark clouds gather, yet no rain falls, as they come from the west. This indicates that strength is accumulating but has not yet taken effect. A noble person should use this time to cultivate literary virtue and improve themselves.

The line statements are explained as follows:

Initial Nine: Return to the right path, and there will naturally be no fault. Auspicious.

Nine in the Second: Drawn back to the right path, one will not lose one’s way by remaining centered.

Nine in the Third: Like a wheel losing its spokes and a married couple turning against each other, this signifies discord within the family.

Six in the Fourth: With sincerity in one’s heart, one can avoid injury and set aside one’s wariness; there will be no disaster.

Nine in the Fifth: Sincerity binds the people together, and one shares prosperity with one’s neighbors.

Topmost Nine: The rain has fallen, and the work is complete. But setting out on a campaign now would be perilous, because overconfidence can lead to poor judgment.

This hexagram teaches that during a period of gathering strength, one should cultivate virtue. Even when conditions are ripe, one must remain cautious and not rush ahead. Wind moving across the sky, the image of “Small Taming,” marks a favorable time for a noble person to cultivate literary virtue.

This passage analyzes the Xiaoxu hexagram (Minor Accumulation) from the Yijing (Book of Changes). The fourth line (a yin line in the fourth position) serves as the ruling line of the Xun trigram (symbolizing compliance). Though yielding in nature, it occupies an appropriate position above the Qian trigram (symbolizing strength), creating a dynamic where firmness incorporates gentleness.

The surrounding yang lines all resonate with this yin line: the fifth line (the ruler's position) harmonizes with it, while the first and second lines also respond. Multiple yang lines willingly submit to its accumulation, hence the name "Minor Accumulation." Though a single yin line is small, it can gather the strength of many yang lines—the key lies in its ability to act with firmness while maintaining flexibility. Particularly, the fifth line's sincere trust enables the fourth line to fulfill its role in accumulation.

The text uses "dense clouds yet no rain" to depict this state of accumulation—not that rain won't fall, but that it is still gathering. The fourth line, combining strength and compliance, moves others through sincerity, dispelling suspicion and acting with gentle wisdom. This allows the fifth line to draw on communal support for stability and prosperity. In contrast, the third line (excessively firm and unbalanced) resembles a neglectful husband who disrupts the household, while the top line observes the completion of accumulation—like clouds finally releasing rain and harvests stored in barns.

Finally, the passage emphasizes the fourth line's steadfast and cautious nature as a yin line (symbolizing feminine virtue), akin to the moon nearing fullness. This demonstrates that when the proper way of accumulation is mastered, yin and yang harmonize to achieve shared success.

This passage elucidates the Dao of interaction between ruler and minister. The fourth yao line (a yin line in the fourth position) of the Xiaoxu hexagram, though appearing gentle and yielding, brings great benefit to both state and sovereign when aligning with temporal circumstances. This mirrors how the ancient virtuous minister Yi Yin assisted King Tai Jia of the Shang dynasty—initially facing difficulties until the king's sincere repentance allowed Yi Yin's governing principles to be implemented. Similarly, the Duke of Zhou's guidance of King Cheng required awaiting the opportune moment.

The essential principle lies in ministers assisting their ruler through the Dao of gentle compliance, maintaining utmost sincerity without selfish motives. Should ministers constantly seek self-display or contend for superiority, conflict with the ruler inevitably arises. As the Book of Documents states: When ministers devise excellent strategies, they should first report them to the ruler, while publicly attributing such policies to the ruler's virtuous governance. Only thus can ruler and minister achieve heart-to-heart connection and seamless cooperation.

The Lü hexagram (Dui below, Qian above) illustrates the importance of cautious conduct. Like treading on a tiger's tail yet avoiding being bitten, success comes through responding to strength with gentleness. The hexagram imagery shows heaven above and marsh below—the noble person must clearly discern hierarchy to stabilize the people's hearts. The initial yang line advises maintaining simple authenticity to advance without error; the second yang line speaks of walking the smooth great highway where recluses upholding correctness find good fortune. These all emphasize that worldly conduct should blend gentle compliance with centered correctness, harmonizing with what is seasonally appropriate.

Note: The term "Xun" refers to the Xun (Compliance) hexagram in the Yijing, symbolizing obedience; "Xu" here denotes a minister's corrective guidance toward the ruler; "Fu" indicates mutual treatment with integrity. These concepts carry specific meanings within the Yijing framework.

This passage explains the meaning of each line of the “Treading” hexagram in the Book of Changes, which symbolizes acting with caution. In modern terms:

The “Treading” hexagram as a whole represents a situation like walking on thin ice. Its upper trigram is Qian (Heaven) and its lower trigram is Dui (Lake), like walking on a tiger’s tail. Each line reveals how to respond to a different situation.

The third line says that a blind person forcing himself to see the road, or a lame person forcing himself to walk, is like stepping on a tiger’s tail and being bitten: it is extremely dangerous. This is a metaphor for taking on major responsibilities despite lacking the ability to meet them, like a warrior serving a ruler and bringing trouble upon himself by occupying an unsuitable position.

The fourth line says that even while trembling with fear as one steps on the tiger’s tail, the outcome is auspicious. By staying alert and resolute, one can turn danger into safety.

The fifth line says that decisive action must remain upright and guard against danger. Even when one occupies a proper position, the highest station demands particular caution.

The top line says that carefully reviewing one’s course and examining what is auspicious or inauspicious brings a complete and very favorable outcome. Even someone in a high position can reflect on their actions, and so receive abundant blessings.

The first line represents preserving one’s unadorned nature from the very beginning. Like someone who is cautious of the tiger’s tail as soon as they set out, one can follow one’s own path independently. The second line says that the “hidden person”—the recluse—gains good fortune by remaining upright. There is no need to curry favor with those above; keeping the mind at peace is the hallmark of an exemplary person of antiquity.

Fang Shihua’s commentary points out that although the fifth line occupies the ruler’s position and possesses firm strength, the hexagram text still stresses the danger of “treading on a tiger’s tail.” This shows that even when circumstances are favorable, one must remain watchful and apprehensive. The third line’s ability does not match its position; like a minister serving a ruler, it is constantly exposed to danger, and failing to read the situation clearly can bring disaster. Through its different scenarios, the hexagram as a whole advises people to anticipate danger in times of security, act within their abilities, and remain upright and centered as they navigate the world.

This passage explains the profound lessons of the “Lü hexagram” in the Book of Changes, which symbolizes the proper way to conduct oneself. In modern terms:

When someone is in danger, maintaining an attitude of alertness and caution can ultimately bring good fortune, allowing them to fulfill their aims without suffering harm. Yet this remains a dangerous situation, unlike the secure conditions described by the first and second yang lines. The top line marks the end of the Lü hexagram and signifies that events have reached their conclusion. At this point, one should look back on one’s conduct, examine the signs of good and bad fortune, and return to one’s original intentions. This naturally brings great good fortune.

The text uses three images to show the consequences of acting improperly: failing to see the situation clearly is like having only one good eye (miao shi); taking the wrong steps is like walking with a lame leg (bo lü); and failing to understand how things work makes it impossible to proceed smoothly. Anyone who shows off their strength like a reckless warrior and behaves brazenly before a ruler is bound to invite danger. What use is a resolute ambition if the means are wrong?

The author, Li Zhi, also known as Li Tuweng, uses King Wen of Zhou as an example. At the end of the Shang dynasty, King Wen experienced this kind of danger firsthand, when King Zhou imprisoned him at Youli. For this reason, King Wen deeply understood the hexagram image of “treading on a tiger’s tail,” a metaphor for a perilous situation. The hexagram statement says, “The tiger does not bite; there is success,” because the inner disposition is yielding and compliant. The line statement says, “The tiger bites; misfortune,” because the third yin line is excessively forceful.

In such a dangerous moment, it was impossible to remain plain and unassuming like the first line, or to withdraw from the world like the second; even the perfect outcome of the top line was hard to attain. Looking back later on that experience, King Wen regretted having acted recklessly, like a warrior. “Miao shi bo lü” describes King Wen’s condition before his imprisonment; “fearful caution, and in the end good fortune” describes his transformation during imprisonment; and “complete fulfillment and great good fortune” describes what followed his release, when he became the Earl of the West, King Wen’s title, and gained command over punitive campaigns. This is connected to the lessons of the Mingyi hexagram, which symbolizes the dimming of light.

Cheng Yi, also known as Cheng Zhengshu, adds that Heaven above and the lake below reflect the natural order. In observing the symbolism of the Lü hexagram, a junzi should distinguish between high and low, and between those of higher and lower rank, so as to bring peace of mind to the people. Only when ranks are clearly defined can the people be at ease and the state be well governed. In ancient times, officials each held their proper positions, with virtue corresponding to rank. If someone’s virtue did not match their position, the ruler should promote worthy people. Society can be harmonious only when people in every occupation diligently fulfill their proper roles.

This passage discusses the Tai Hexagram (Earth over Heaven) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), expounding on how harmony between Yin and Yang and communication between upper and lower realms bring about peace and prosperity.

The hexagram's image shows Qian (Heaven) below and Kun (Earth) above, symbolizing the communion between heaven and earth. The text states: "When the small departs and the great arrives, there is good fortune and success." This refers to how the Qi of heaven and earth must interact for all things to flourish, and how communication between different social strata unites aspirations. The inner firmness and outer gentleness, the strong core with mild exterior, represent the growth of the noble path and the decline of petty ways.

Rulers emulate this celestial communion by establishing systems aligned with natural law, helping people accord with heavenly timing and earthly advantages. The six line statements illustrate this principle through progressive stages:

The first line (Initial Nine) resembles uprooting reeds that bring their kindred along, symbolizing how noble individuals actively engage with receptive Yin energies. The second line (Nine Two) calls for embracing even the uncultivated with magnanimity, like wading across a river while remembering distant friends, maintaining balanced integrity. The third line (Nine Three) cautions that no path remains forever smooth—what goes must return—only steadfast adherence to the Dao avoids misfortune.

The fourth line (Six Four) depicts yielding Yin individuals who, though not wealthy, interact sincerely with Yang counterparts. The fifth line (Six Five) employs the historical example of Emperor Yi marrying off his younger sister to show how centering goodness brings great blessings. The final line (Top Six) warns of city walls crumbling into moats, symbolizing social disorder when military action becomes inadvisable.

The entire passage emphasizes that Yin and Yang must unite as naturally as heaven and earth intermingle, with noble individuals actively embracing and petty persons reciprocating sincerity. Only through voluntary union rather than coercion can lasting peace be achieved. When this virtuous cycle of "the small departing and great arriving" occurs—where the small gain blessings and the great attain success—society maintains stability and prosperity.

This passage elucidates the relationship between ruler and minister through the lens of the Tai hexagram (symbolizing peace and prosperity). The scripture states that genuine connections are not formed merely because neighbors are wealthy—how much more profound should the ruler-minister bond be? The second yang line (representing the minister) embodies expansive and inclusive virtue (De), while the fifth yin line (representing the ruler) receives great blessings, much like a sister's marriage that fulfills aspirations while enabling their realization.

Achieving true harmony requires a humble ruler willing to heed ministers and magnanimous ministers capable of assisting their sovereign. Yet we must understand that the Dao of Tai lies in continuous exchange—this dynamic interaction is inherently impermanent. The difficulty of sustaining perpetual prosperity necessitates deliberate contemplation. Thus, special emphasis is placed on the third line of the inner trigram and the top line of the outer trigram: even the convergence of heaven and earth is transient, their union inevitably giving way to separation.

Though the cyclical nature of prosperity and decline follows cosmic patterns beyond human control, comprehending this principle allows one to overcome adversity through steadfast adherence to the proper path (Zhengdao), thereby avoiding the misfortunes of obstruction ("Pi"), decline ("Bei"), and dissolution ("Wang"). For human determination can prevail over celestial inevitability. Hence the admonition: do not assume Tai's departure is fated simply because you understand its laws. By maintaining right practice without taking prosperity for granted, one may prolong harmonious conditions indefinitely, enjoying blessings without calamity.

At the topmost line (the sixth), representing Tai's zenith, city walls crumble back into moats as those in high positions revert to lowly stations—unable to command obedience, for when communication between rulers and people ceases, governance collapses. Even with righteous intent, restoration becomes impossible, emphasizing the need for timely vigilance.

The appended commentary by Feng Qizhi observes: After Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth), the Yi Jing begins addressing human affairs. Passing through six levels of obstacles—internal accumulation and external practice—one attains Tai. Yet obstruction inevitably follows prosperity, revealing how order is hard-won while chaos comes easily—a profound insight embedded in the Yi Jing's structure.

Wang Bi (styled Fusi) explains: Like pulling up mao grass reveals interconnected roots, all phenomena are fundamentally interrelated.

This passage explains the hexagram lines of Tai (Peace) and Pi (Obstruction) from the Yijing (Book of Changes). The Tai hexagram (Earth below Heaven above) symbolizes smooth progress, while Pi (Heaven below Earth above) represents the opposite—blockage and stagnation.

First, regarding Tai: When the three yang lines (representing yang qi) unite in outward development, it resembles interconnected roots of thatch grass, where one plant stimulates the growth of the whole patch, heralding auspicious signs. Cheng Yi (Cheng Zhengshu) interprets that an attitude embracing even barrenness can align with the central and upright Dao, making De (Virtue) shine brightly. Shi Jie (Shi Shoudao) observes that when things reach their extreme, they reverse: flat ground becomes steep slopes (passing the second line), and city walls collapse to fill the moats (passing the fifth line). Yang Wanli (Yang Tingxiu) warns: in times of peace, one must remain vigilant against hidden crises, as yin qi may appear to retreat but can suddenly counterattack. At the ninth-third line, when yang qi becomes excessive, yin qi is about to revive—the turning point from Tai to Pi lies between the ninth-third and sixth-fourth lines.

Jin Lüxiang (Jin Rubai) uses the metaphor of feudal lords marrying royal princesses to illustrate how the De of the ninth-second line harmonizes with the central and upright ruler of the sixth-fifth line. Wang Bi (Wang Fusi) adds that when Tai reaches its peak, it returns to its origin. When communication between above and below ceases and city walls crumble, there’s no need for forceful attacks—government decrees become unenforceable, and the fate of Pi is sealed. Su Shi (Su Dongpo) compares this to using moat mud to build walls meant to protect the people. If rulers lose the Dao, it’s as if the walls wish to revert to mud, and regions will no longer heed commands.

Next, regarding Pi: When Heaven and Earth do not commune, all things are blocked; when rulers and subjects are cut off, the state declines. The structure of yin within and yang without, softness inside and hardness outside, symbolizes petty men gaining power while noble men lose position. Noble men should restrain their De to avoid calamity and not covet rank or salary. The first-six line’s imagery of "uprooting thatch grass by its roots" shows that even in adversity, a heart turned toward the ruler can maintain uprightness and secure good fortune.

These explanations use natural phenomena (such as thatch growth and collapsing walls) and human analogies (like feudal lords marrying princesses) to illustrate how things reverse at their peak and how yin-yang transform. They emphasize the wisdom of remaining vigilant in peace, upholding integrity, and awaiting the right moment.

This is a modern interpretation of the hexagram "Pi" (Obstruction) from the Book of Changes (Yijing):

The second line (Yin at 2nd place) states that tolerance and compliance benefit petty people but hinder noble individuals, though ultimately there will be breakthrough. The commentary explains: Though temporarily obstructed, the noble person refuses to drift with the tide, hence achieving success in the end.

The third line (Yin at 3rd place) speaks of humiliation through excessive tolerance. The commentary attributes this to improper positioning.

The fourth line (Yang at 4th place) declares that following the Mandate of Heaven brings no misfortune, with like-minded companions sharing blessings. The commentary explains this results from realizing one's aspirations.

The fifth line (Yang at 5th place) describes how the great person finds auspiciousness by pausing during obstruction, maintaining vigilance like hanging from a fragile mulberry branch. The commentary attributes this auspiciousness to correct positioning.

The top line (Yang at 6th place) shows obstruction reaching its limit before overturning—first obstruction, then joy. The commentary explains that obstruction must reverse at its extreme, being unsustainable.

The core teaching of Heaven-Earth Obstruction (Pi hexagram) lies in this principle: When the small departs and the great arrives, one interaction transforms it into Tai (Peace). Conversely, when the great departs and the small ceases interaction, Pi forms. The root cause of obstruction is "improper people"—those who presume themselves noble yet lack adaptability. Clinging to rigid righteousness, they prevent the great from coming and the small from going, creating obstruction.

Some ask: Why does the first line's "uprooting reeds" (Yin at 1st place), clearly showing improper Yin accumulation, get called auspicious by sages? Because when Yin interacts with Yang, knowing only that the small should advance while remaining unaware that nobility requires steadfastness, this mutual coming and going obscures petty characteristics—dissolving the petty path. Without forced displays of nobility, all naturally become noble—expanding the noble path. This is Peace (Tai).

Therefore, transforming obstruction into peace requires abandoning claims to exclusive nobility. The first line's "uprooting reeds" aims for the ruler, while the fourth line's "companions share blessings" realizes aspirations—establishing communication. Moreover, the fourth line occupies the lower position of the upper trigram—the turning point before peace arrives—and stands near the ruler as chief minister, when Heaven's Mandate is about to be restored.

This scripture discusses how to maintain proper mindset and conduct in both "Tai" (smooth progress) and "Pi" (adversity) situations.

When one persists in their aspirations, they naturally avoid calamities and allow those around them to share in blessings. This goes beyond the simplicity of uprooting thatch grass with its roots intact. The true essence lies in always keeping the sovereign (representing lofty ideals or principles) in one's heart. If one can emulate the second yin line (Liu'er) from the Yijing by understanding the way of tolerant acceptance, even petty people (those lacking virtue) may receive good fortune. Similarly, by mastering the "resting in adversity" (Xiu Pi) method like the fifth yang line (Jiuwu), noble persons (those of high virtue) naturally attain auspiciousness while benefiting others.

The text references King Wen of Zhou diligently attending to governance from dawn to dusk without pausing to eat, and King Goujian of Yue sleeping on firewood and tasting gall—demonstrating how one should maintain vigilance ("perish, perish" alertness) during prosperous times while seeing hope in adversity. When others perceive smooth sailing, one should discern hidden dangers; when others see only difficulty, one should recognize turning points. This approach allows mastery of initiative, like wielding the legendary Tai'a sword to control the situation.

Yet true noble persons don't deliberately act this way, for they steadfastly uphold the correct path (Zhen). Simply by connecting with kindred spirits like intertwined thatch roots, or embracing all things with the earth's magnanimity, one maintains the proper way. By upholding this correct path, one naturally attains clarity, peace, and auspiciousness.

Note: "Tai" and "Pi" are hexagram names from the Yijing (Book of Changes), representing states of openness/success and obstruction respectively; "Liu'er" and "Jiuwu" refer to specific line positions in the hexagrams; "Xiu Pi" means ending adversity; "Tai'a" was a famous ancient sword symbolizing authority.

This passage examines the wisdom of navigating life through the lens of the "Tai" (Peace) and "Pi" (Stagnation) hexagrams from the Yijing (Book of Changes). The core message reveals that true tolerance is not unconditional concession but requires both principles and courage.

During prosperous times (symbolized by the Tai hexagram), the noble person should embrace others with open-mindedness (bao huang, "containing the vast"), yet remain vigilant against indulging wicked behavior. Like crossing a river (feng he, "ford the river"), one needs both magnanimity and the resolve to stop wrongdoing decisively. Historical examples like Emperor Yuan of Han allowing eunuchs to kill loyal ministers and Emperor Zhang permitting Dou Xian to seize civilian lands demonstrate how superficial tolerance without substantive responsibility leads nations from prosperity to decline.

In adversity (symbolized by the Pi hexagram), discerning timing becomes paramount. Scholar Lü Zuqian (Lü Bogong) observed that Pi represents a blockage between heaven and earth—retaining form but losing the dynamic interaction of Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth). Here, dealing with petty people demands strategy: one might endure humiliation like letting spit dry on one's face (tuo mian zi gan), or conceal one's brilliance like removing robes during gambling (chi qiu zong bo). However, blindly resisting as Li Gu did—only to be killed and embolden the tyrant Liang Ji—proves futile. Chen Ping's apparent submission to Empress Lü, though seemingly disgraceful, preserved strength to later suppress the Lü clan's rebellion.

The text concludes with Han general Zhou Bo's famous words: "In open debate, I cannot match Your Majesty [Emperor Wen], but in stabilizing the realm and preserving the Liu dynasty, Your Majesty cannot match me." This illustrates how authentic tolerance (bao xiu, "containing disgrace") demands wisdom—knowing when to endure and when to act, guided solely by righteousness.

This passage consists of two main parts. The first presents several scholars’ discussions of concepts such as “embracing the mulberry tree” in the Book of Changes. The second gives the text of Hexagram 13, Fellowship with Others, along with its commentary.

In the first discussion, Xiong Guo explains that the character “rest” means a person leaning against a tree to take a break, and that “embracing the mulberry tree” refers to a mulberry just beginning to sprout. Deng Bogao argues that the phrase is not a metaphor for firmness but describes a perilous situation, like driving six horses with a rotten rope, treading on a tiger’s tail, or walking across spring ice. After recovering Hebei, Lu Xuanguo used “embracing the mulberry tree” to describe the state’s fate as fragile as a thread. Shao Guoxian discusses the Hexagrams of Peace and Standstill. He sees Peace as symbolizing a ruler above who puts the right way into practice, and Standstill as symbolizing gentlemen below who are frustrated in their aims. He emphasizes that the times depend on the actions of those in high positions and of gentlemen.

The second part presents the complete hexagram statement and line statements for Hexagram 13 of the Book of Changes, Fellowship with Others. The hexagram consists of Fire below and Heaven above, symbolizing Heaven and Fire communicating and people living in harmony. The hexagram statement says that joining with others in the open country is favorable for crossing a great river, and that a noble person who holds to the right way will find good fortune. The line statements describe how to relate to others in different circumstances: the first nine says that going out to associate with people brings no harm; the second six says that associating only with one’s own clan brings regret; the third nine describes lying in ambush among the brush for three years without daring to act; the fourth nine describes climbing the city wall but not attacking, which brings good fortune; the fifth nine says that people first weep and then laugh when a great army meets them; and the top nine says that joining with others in the outskirts leaves one’s aims not fully realized, but brings no regret.

The commentary emphasizes that a noble person should distinguish kinds of things and groups, and approach others with an upright heart. Through civilized conduct joined with strength, one can realize the aim of bringing the world into harmony. Overall, the passage explains the importance of openness and tolerance in human relationships, while holding firmly to the right way.

This passage explains the positional relationships between the hexagrams "Tongren" (Fellowship) and "Dayou" (Great Possession) from the Yijing (Book of Changes). It primarily analyzes how a single yin line interacts with yang lines when occupying different positions.

When the yin line occupies the second position (Six in the Second Place), all five yang lines above and below seek correspondence with it, forming the "Fellowship in the Field" hexagram image. Because the yin line occupies the central and proper position, it naturally becomes the focal point for others to rally around. When the yin line occupies the fifth position (Six in the Fifth Place), it commands all yang lines, creating the auspicious omen of "Great Possession." This occurs because its softness in an honored position naturally embraces all things.

However, while the fifth position easily achieves "Great Possession," the second position struggles to become the sovereign leader, reflecting hierarchical distinctions. Thus, the Six in the Fifth Place of "Great Possession" is particularly auspicious, whereas the Six in the Second Place of "Fellowship" inevitably involves factional disputes. Yet from the perspective of the five yang lines, the Six in the Second Place is indeed their shared object of pursuit, hence the hexagram statement names it "Fellowship in the Field."

Other lines seek correspondence with the Six in the Second Place in different ways: the initial line resembles going out to find companions; the third line resembles lying in ambush in tall grass; the fourth line resembles climbing city walls to gaze afar; the fifth line openly summons the multitude; and the top line ventures beyond the city alone. These all demonstrate how the five yang lines regard the Six in the Second Place as their sovereign and seek to connect with it. The entire hexagram depicts all members rallying together, hence called "Fellowship in the Field."

The core of this hexagram lies in the heartfelt resonance between the Six in the Second Place and the Nine in the Fifth Place. The Six in the Second Place embodies the virtues of cultural refinement, strength, and balanced correctness, aligning with the noble path of the junzi (superior person). Thus, it can resonate with all under heaven. Although the process inevitably involves struggles with the third and fourth lines and restraint from the fifth line—appearing somewhat regrettable—this is precisely the necessary journey for the Six in the Second Place as the focal point of collective allegiance.

This passage expounds on the profound importance of sincere unity between individuals. Just as metal can be severed, genuine unity of heart generates formidable strength; like the natural fragrance of orchids, those who share common aspirations naturally speak in harmony.

The ancient sages exemplified this principle—the abdication between Yao and Shun, the master-disciple transmission between Confucius and Yan Hui—all flowed as naturally as moisture moving toward dry places or clouds drifting with the wind. Such synchronicity requires no forced effort; it arises spontaneously through heartfelt resonance. As King Wen of Zhou (represented by the 95th hexagram line) and Confucius (the 62nd line) realized, true unity creates profound spiritual attunement.

The text observes that without genuine shared virtue (De), relationships may endure peacefully in stable times but will collapse when facing trials (like crossing a river). Yet when united like the six unbroken yang lines (symbolizing the Qian hexagram's vigorous power), even great rivers become crossable. The force of a single yang line is already unstoppable—how much more when five unite?

Particularly noteworthy is how the initial yang line (the bottom ninth line) forms unity by reaching outward from within, while the top yang line (the upper ninth line) connects by extending downward. Like meeting kindred spirits upon stepping outside—with no barriers between. The resonance between the 95th line (the sovereign position) and 62nd line (minister position) springs from innermost sincerity, creating bonds that time cannot erase.

Ultimately, true unity cannot be broken by external coercion (symbolized by the third and fourth lines' forces). Initial difficulties (weeping and wailing) will ultimately give way to joy. Even military force cannot sever this bond of shared purpose. This demonstrates how the unity between second and fifth lines remains unshakable against all opposition.

This passage elucidates the philosophical principles of the "Tongren" (Fellowship) and "Dayou" (Great Possession) hexagrams from the Zhouyi (Book of Changes). The Tongren hexagram features two yin lines and five yang lines, while Dayou has five yang lines and one yin line—demonstrating how differing yin-yang configurations can achieve harmonious coexistence. This mirrors the way noble persons (junzi) navigate the world: though their methods may differ, their shared purpose creates a unifying power so strong it can "cut through metal," as the saying goes.

The text cites Li Bai's example: the Tang poet narrowly escaped death after following Prince Yong Li Lin, only to be saved by Guo Ziyi who exchanged his own official rank for Li Bai's pardon. Later, when imprisoned in Xunyang, Li Bai was rescued by Song Ruosi's troops. Such episodes reveal how rare true understanding friends are, and how often virtuous individuals find themselves with nowhere to turn. Thus, the sages viewed superficial "fellowship" with skepticism.

Scholar Xiong Guo explains: In Dayou, the yin line occupies the fifth position (the most honored), hence the judgment "yuan heng" (supreme success). In Tongren, the yin line in the second position is revered by surrounding yang lines, producing "heng" (success)—showing that nobility must maintain integrity to earn respect. As the Book of Songs states, "The junzi becomes their exemplar," though in reality, noble aspirations often go unfulfilled.

Jiang Tingshan adds: Some lie in wait amid tall grass, climb heights to observe movements, yet dare not act for three years—not for lack of will, but for lack of the proper moment.

The Dayou hexagram's structure—Qian (Heaven) below Li (Fire) above—symbolizes illumination shining upon all under heaven. Its judgment "yuan heng" indicates that when yielding virtue occupies the honored position, maintaining centrality while receiving support from above and below, supreme fortune follows. The noble person should restrain evil while promoting goodness, aligning with Heaven's mandate.

Line interpretations:

• First Nine: Avoiding unnecessary connections prevents harm; hardship brings no blame—emphasizing cautious beginnings.
• Second Nine: Transporting goods in great carts incurs no misfortune—showing balanced accumulation prevents failure.
• Third Nine: When lords present offerings to the Son of Heaven, petty persons cannot—revealing how inferior people invite calamity.
• Fourth Nine: Restraining ostentation avoids blame—demonstrating the need for discernment.
• Fifth Six: Sincerity inspires awe, bringing good fortune—proving integrity kindles others' aspirations, while authority stems from approachability.
• Top Nine: Receiving Heaven's blessing ensures universal auspiciousness.

The image statement of the "Dayou" hexagram in the Book of Changes states: "The topmost yang line is auspicious because it receives divine protection from heaven." This hexagram shows the Li (Fire) trigram above the Qian (Heaven) trigram, symbolizing brilliant illumination shining upon the world.

Su Shi explains that "Dayou" (Great Possession) refers to the multitude submitting to the ruler represented by the fifth line. In times of universal abundance, both superiors and inferiors respond harmoniously to the sovereign through sincere interaction. The majestic ruler acts in accordance with heavenly timing, enjoying the prosperity and blessings bestowed by heaven, where no favorable circumstance is lacking.

When encountering such flourishing times in life, as one's worldly experience expands and social connections multiply, maintaining virtuous conduct becomes increasingly challenging—one should never consider it simple. The initial yang line at the bottom position, though not yet engaged in interaction, marks the beginning of social exchange. Where there is no interaction, there is no harm; thus we understand that interaction may potentially bring harm. Hence the warning to follow the "path of no error," whose key lies in overcoming difficulties. If one can overcome challenges, what harm could come from daily interactions?

The second yang line, with its "great carriage loaded with goods," signifies no failure—that is, no harm. The third yang line presents tribute to the Son of Heaven; even those in the position of the Three Dukes may do so without harm. The fourth yang line does not flaunt its wealth; knowing caution at the height of prosperity ensures no harm comes. Whether harm occurs depends entirely on the individual. If one becomes indulgent due to abundance and fails to act prudently, calamity will gradually ensue—this has nothing to do with interaction itself.

Observing the third yang line at the peak of the lower trigram—equivalent to the Three Dukes position—we see yang strength occupying its proper place, thus enabling shared blessings with the prosperous ruler. This stems from profound awareness of difficulties and careful attention to beginnings and endings, exemplified by Jiang Ziya of Qi. Contrastingly, Han Xin and Peng Yue met misfortune through lack of caution.

The fourth yang line, closest to the yielding fifth line ruler, reaches the zenith of power. Yet as yang in a yin position, it dedicates everything to the sovereign without presuming ownership—hence "not flaunting." This requires supreme wisdom to maintain caution through profound understanding of difficulties, as demonstrated by Fan Li and Zhang Liang.

Thus we see that in prosperous eras, when rulers govern with gentle harmony and centrality, ministers overcome challenges. When rulers interact with sincere trust, ministers engage without harm—only then can they share in the blessings of abundance. Otherwise, disaster strikes. The more gentle the ruler, the more ministers understand hardship—this embodies the profound intention of the sages.

Wang Benke explains: The topmost yang line (the ninth line in the hexagram) receives divine protection from heaven, while the sixth five line (the sovereign position) acts in accordance with celestial timing, naturally attaining the most unobstructed and auspicious state.

Cheng Zhengshu further elaborates: While tributary offerings from feudal lords to the Son of Heaven follow the proper Dao, such affairs become calamitous when managed by petty men. Throughout history, when feudal lords served their sovereign with loyal submission, they governed the people well as bulwarks of the royal house and amassed resources for imperial requisition. But when petty men gain power, abundant population and wealth only fuel greater rebellion through their arrogance. Thus when petty men achieve great success, it inevitably brings disaster.

Zhang Youyu cites the "Pengpeng" descriptions from the Book of Songs, noting how these verses consistently depict scenes of formidable horses and men.

Yang Tingxiu analyzes: The sixth five line as sovereign of Great Possession (the 14th hexagram in Yijing), though occupying the Li (Fire) position symbolizing brightness, maintains self-restraint through yielding receptivity - empty-minded within while gentle without, exclusively treating others with sincerity. Thus it inspires ministers' loyalty and secures subordinates' willing submission. The bond between ruler and minister needs no pact to become firm; the dignity of righteousness requires no severity to achieve harmony. Sincerity evokes sincerity in others; equanimity dissolves others' wariness.

Wang Bi (styled Fusi) expounds: Occupying the honored position with gentle demeanor, handling great affairs via the Middle Way, harboring no selfishness toward all things - this naturally elicits universal response. Inspiring others' hearts through sincerity ensures genuine allegiance. When the ruler lacks selfishness, the people become impartial; when the ruler suspects none, others respond with trust. What difficulty remains to guard against when both justice and sincerity prevail? What action lacks dignity when teachings spread without words? As sovereign of Great Possession, how could one attain auspiciousness without following this Dao?

Su Shi (styled Dongpo) interprets: The sixth five line dwells amidst multiple yang positions yet uniquely employs yielding receptivity, appearing completely unguarded. Precisely through this total lack of defense, all things return to it with perfect sincerity. From where comes this gentle yet awe-inspiring power? It emerges precisely through the absence of precaution, demonstrating abundant inner reserves. Defensiveness springs from insufficiency; when insufficiency manifests externally, dignity diminishes. He further states: Heaven assists those who follow the celestial Dao; people help those who keep faith. Practicing sincerity, contemplating the Way of compliance, plus honoring the worthy - thus one receives heavenly protection with omnipresent auspiciousness. Sincerity, compliance, and reverence for worthiness - these constitute the virtues of the sixth five line.

This passage originates from the "Dayou" (Great Possession) and "Qian" (Modesty) hexagrams of the Yijing (Book of Changes), focusing on two essential virtues in human conduct: sincerity and humility.

In the "Dayou" hexagram, the sixth line in the fifth position (a yao being the basic component of a hexagram) represents a ruler who, if possessing three virtues—first, aligning with the Dao (the Way) (shun); second, treating others with sincerity (xin); and third, honoring the worthy (shangxian)—will receive blessings from heaven and support from the people. The topmost line (ninth) further explains that such blessings are not attained through deliberate pursuit. Just as sages act without leaving traces of their achievements and divine beings (shenren) dwell in the world without revealing their names, true fortune often arrives unexpectedly.

The "Qian" hexagram specifically discusses the principle of humility. Its imagery depicts a lofty mountain concealed beneath the earth (the Gen trigram below, the Kun trigram above), symbolizing inner virtue that remains unassuming. The Dao of heaven diminishes the proud and enriches the humble; the Dao of earth transforms the overflowing and flows toward the lowly; even spirits and deities (guishen) bring misfortune to the arrogant but bestow blessings on the modest. Likewise, human society despises pride and cherishes humility. A true noble person (junzi), even when in an exalted position, maintains gentleness, and when in a humble station, retains dignity.

The individual line statements elaborate further:

• The first line (sixth) states that a noble person who is humble upon humility, like a shepherd managing his flock with discipline, can safely navigate dangers.
• The second line (sixth) explains that gaining renown through modesty is auspicious because it arises from inner sincerity.
• The third line (ninth) describes a noble person who remains humble despite achievements, naturally drawing the people’s allegiance.
• The fourth line (sixth) asserts that applying humility brings no disadvantage, as it does not violate cosmic principles.
• The fifth line (sixth) suggests that even without wealth, one can lead neighbors to prosper together, and when necessary, using force to punish injustice will not bring harm.
• The topmost line (sixth) indicates that a reputation for humility can be employed in commanding armies to subdue rebellious states.

The passage concludes by emphasizing that humility ultimately leads to success. Though the beginning may be challenging, perseverance in this virtue will inevitably bring good fortune. This serves as a reminder not to abandon humility simply because of temporary difficulties.

This passage elucidates the profound meaning of the "Qian Hexagram" (Humility) from the Yijing (Book of Changes) through historical anecdotes. It first cites two exemplary rulers: Taibo (the elder uncle of King Wen of Zhou), who three times yielded the throne to his younger brother Jili, eventually cutting his hair and tattooing himself to flee to the barbarian lands of Jing. Though seemingly destitute, he ultimately founded the state of Wu. Similarly, King Wen of Zhou ceded two-thirds of the realm to the Shang dynasty, appearing to suffer loss but laying the foundation for the 800-year Zhou dynasty. Confucius thus praised these two sages as models of "supreme virtue" (zhide).

The text emphasizes the essence of humility: when one does not boast of oneself (bujin), no one in the world competes with them for ability; when one does not flaunt one's achievements (bufa), no one contends with them for merit. Just as Yu the Great governed with humility, enabling the Xia dynasty to endure for four centuries, Confucius and Yan Hui (Confucius's most virtuous disciple), though not seeking fame, became eternal exemplars. These are the finest proofs of the adage "the noble person reaps good outcomes" (junzi you zhong), showing that the humble ultimately receive benevolent rewards.

Particular attention is given to analyzing the "laborious humility" (laoqian) spirit of the Nine in the Third Line (the ruling line) of the Qian Hexagram: having merit yet not boasting, possessing virtue yet not claiming it—this represents the most profound moral character. Like a herdsman taming a powerful ox, true humility lies in subduing one's own strength to attain a state of gentle compliance. The text employs the natural phenomenon of male and female birds calling in harmony as a metaphor for the balance of Yin and Yang, illustrating how the Second and Top Yin lines resonate with the Third Yang line, revealing the inherent harmony within the Dao of humility.

In the appended commentary, Xiong Guo and Fang Shihua further clarify the distinction between "humility" (qian) and "abasement" (bei): humility is not about being lowly but rather, like the herdsman taming an ox, represents the cultivated skill of overcoming strength with gentleness. Su Shi (Dongpo) uses the imagery of birds calling in harmony to explain that the true meaning of "resonant humility" (mingqian) lies in the harmonious interplay of Yin and Yang.

This passage discusses the deeper meaning of the Hexagram of Humility in the Classic of Changes. Made up of Kun below and Gen above, the hexagram symbolizes the virtue of humility, though excessive humility can also cause problems.

It first explains the term “hui qian.” The original meaning of “hui” is to tear something apart with the hand; by extension, it means to remove or sweep away. The character is related to “hui” in phrases such as “directing with one’s arm” in the Book of Songs and “holding a white yak-tail banner to direct” in the Book of Documents.

Several scholars interpret the Hexagram of Humility from different perspectives. Yang Jian argues that the Six in the Fourth Place, a yielding line in a yielding position, is too weak. It belongs to the Kun, or all-yielding, structure and does not occupy the central position, making its humility excessive. The sages therefore teach that one should “sweep away some of that humility”—removing its excess—while still keeping within bounds and not abandoning the principle of humility altogether.

Cheng Yi, whose courtesy name was Zhengshu, points out that gentle virtue alone cannot always win people over. If one never uses authority or force, it may be impossible to govern the world; this is the drawback of excessive humility. When firmness is called for, one must be firm, as in King Tang’s campaign against the state of Ge and the Duke of Zhou’s eastern expedition.

Wang Ji’s interpretation is that the inner trigram of the Hexagram of Humility, its lower three lines, embodies the virtue of stillness, while the outer trigram, its upper three lines, embodies a disposition of compliance. The sage reduces what is excessive to make up for what is lacking, bringing the worthy and unworthy, the high and the low, into balance. But if the heart is not truly still and one merely appears compliant, this becomes insincere deference—a display that the noble person does not value.

The passage then turns to the Hexagram of Joyful Enthusiasm, with Kun below and Zhen above. Its commentary says that the firm Yang line accords with its aim and acts through compliance, thereby attaining joy. This principle is closely related to that of the Hexagram of Humility: be humble when the situation calls for humility, and act in accord with circumstances when it is time to act.

These interpretations teach that humility is a virtue, but it must be applied flexibly according to the situation. True humility means keeping the heart calm while responding to circumstances outwardly, rather than yielding at every turn. Governing a state, for example, requires both benevolence and the ability to show authority when necessary.

The Yu hexagram (symbolizing harmony and ease) in the Book of Changes (Yijing) illustrates through the movement of heaven and earth: by following the natural Dao, the sun and moon never err in their courses, and the four seasons never falter in their transitions. When sages emulate this principle of accordance, punishments become just and the people submit willingly. The timing revealed by the Yu hexagram is profoundly significant.

The Xiangzhuan (Image Commentary) states: "Thunder emerges from the earth's vibration" (the Yu hexagram's upper trigram Zhen [thunder] over lower trigram Kun [earth]), symbolizing how ancient sage-kings composed music to glorify virtue (De), offering grand sacrifices to heaven while venerating their ancestors.

First Six (yin line at the bottom): Indulging in pleasure with self-satisfaction brings misfortune. This stems from dissipated intent exhausting one's aspirations.

Six in the Second Place (firm as stone): Resolute and upright like a rock, not indulging in pleasure all day—persisting in the correct path brings good fortune. This reflects maintaining the central and proper way.

Six in the Third Place (improper position): Hesitantly pursuing pleasure brings regret both for acting too slowly and for not acting at all. This arises from occupying an inappropriate position (a yin line in a yang place).

Nine in the Fourth Place (the sole yang line): Through him comes ease and joy, yielding great gain. Without doubt, companions gather like hairpins securing a topknot. This manifests the fulfillment of his intent.

Six in the Fifth Place (soft line in the honored position): Though chronically ill, one does not die. Though overriding the yang strength (of Nine in the Fourth), centrality preserves life from extinction.

Top Six (ultimate pleasure): Delirious indulgence at its extreme, yet timely correction averts calamity. Such excessive pleasure cannot endure.

Fang Shihua's commentary observes: Among the six lines of Yu, only Nine in the Fourth (the yang line) truly enjoys ease and attains great gain—the others all lose through pleasure. Only Six in the Second maintains centrality without drifting, thus securing good fortune. The Xici Zhuan's concept of "knowing the subtle signs" (zhi ji) precisely refers to Yu's propensity for misfortune—only Six in the Second's rocklike steadfastness foresees this. Six in the Third, misplaced, both covets Nine in the Fourth's joy and fears Six in the Second's warning, torn by inner conflict. Few indeed match such stone-like resolve; without it, sharing Nine in the Fourth's ease proves difficult. As the hexagram's sole yang line, Nine in the Fourth's vigorous correspondence with the yin lines fulfills its intent, granting the entire hexagram its "ease" (Yu). Both Yu and Fu hexagrams involve five yin lines with one yang, hence both employ "companions" (peng) as metaphor. Xiong Guo identifies "great gain" as this yang line uniting the yin multitude.

This passage analyzes the hexagram Yu (Pleasure) from the Book of Changes to reveal the calamities brought by indulgence in pleasure. The fifth line (a yin line in the honored position), though supported by five other yielding lines, becomes weak and improper in itself while being suppressed by the yang line in the fourth position. It knows only comfort and pleasure, unaware that its authority has been hollowed out and its dignity and blessings lost—much like Liu Shan, the later ruler of Shu Han, who retained only nominal power while becoming a walking corpse, worse off than if he had perished entirely.

The text presents a counterexample: without loyal ministers like Zhuge Liang (the Loyal and Martial Marquis) to assist them, rulers overshadowed by powerful officials (such as Wang Mang or Sima Yi) could hardly maintain even a semblance of existence. As for the topmost line of Yu, it represents complete immersion in pleasure with no possibility of return, for the pattern of the hexagram (symbolizing comfort and ease) has already solidified. Change is possible if one acts early, but once the situation hardens, it becomes too late.

The author incisively points out: while the hexagram statement of Yu describes the beautiful appearance of comfort and joy, each individual line warns of the disasters brought by indulgence. The tragedies of nations in decline and families in ruin today all stem from excessive pursuit of pleasure—whether like the top line, blindly indulging until death, or losing all ambition through dissipation. Only by maintaining vigilance like the second line ("alert as if the day might end at any moment") can one preserve true comfort and joy for long. Such vigilance itself aligns with the Dao (the Way) and is the path to genuine happiness.

Finally, the text criticizes scholars of the time for misinterpreting Confucius's saying "joy is found within." They distorted the sage's spiritual delight—born from diligent striving—into mere sensual indulgence. This erroneous view is no different from those who drown in pleasure and court destruction, for the sage's true joy never separates from vigorous effort, as shown in Confucius's state of "so diligent as to forget to eat, so joyful as to forget sorrow."

This passage from the Yijing (Book of Changes) discusses the path of cultivation and worldly conduct. The essential meaning conveys that those who truly attain the Dao reach a state of "forgetting sorrow"—neither clinging to joy nor troubled by melancholy. When eating, their minds remain unclouded; in old age, they remain unattached, devoting their lives to pursuing spiritual fulfillment. Such individuals perceive worldly pleasures as transient illusions.

Practitioners of the Dao must be steadfast as bedrock. Not only should they maintain vigilance in times of ease (the "Yu" hexagram signifies a state of comfort), but they must also comprehend the subtle signs of change ("knowing the incipience" refers to perceiving omens). This wisdom connects with the Dao of heaven and earth.

Supplementary explanations from scholars:

Qiu Xingke interprets the Zhun hexagram as establishing foundations, the Qian hexagram as military strategy, while the Yu hexagram combines both characteristics. Su Shi (Zizhan) observes that true joy does not depend on external things—blindly following others' emotions ultimately leads to difficulty.

Wang Ji explains the imagery of thunder shaking the earth and reviving all things (symbolized by the Yu hexagram). Ancient sage-kings created music in harmony with cosmic principles to mediate between spirits and humanity. This music arises from within, aligned with the lülü (ancient tonal system), and expressed through instruments. In rituals, music venerates heaven and earth: at the circular altar (yuánqiū), heaven is worshiped alongside ancestors; in the Bright Hall (mingtang), the Supreme Deity is honored alongside forebears, embodying the ethics of "revering the noble and cherishing kin." This invites divine presence, fosters growth, and brings peace to the world.

The Sui hexagram teaches the way of yielding. Its image—thunder below, lake above—symbolizes the union of strength and gentleness. The judgment states that perseverance in correctness brings success. The noble person emulates this by working diligently by day and resting at night.

Line interpretations:

First Nine: Official position may change, but steadfastness brings good fortune. Social interactions yield benefit.

Six in Second: Fixating on petty individuals means losing significant figures.

Six in Third: Following virtuous people while abandoning lesser ones brings gain. Residing in stillness with correctness is most auspicious.

The core philosophy: In navigating life, discern what to embrace and relinquish. Follow the worthy, maintain inner stability amid change, and balance activity with rest—this is the path to genuine fulfillment.

This passage explains the meaning of the individual lines in the “Following” hexagram of the Book of Changes (Yijing)—the Lake over Thunder hexagram—and the principles behind the Way of following.

The fourth line says: Although following another may bring gain, danger arises if one’s motives are improper. If one is sincere inwardly, acts in accord with the right way, and conducts oneself openly and honorably, there will be no fault. The Commentary on the Images explains: Gaining by following another is, in principle, dangerous; but sincerity of heart and adherence to the right way can bring one’s achievements to light.

The fifth line says: Sincerely following what is good brings good fortune. The Commentary on the Images explains that this is because the line occupies a proper and central position.

The top line says: One is restrained and bound, and can only follow reluctantly; the king performs a sacrifice at the Western Mountain. The Commentary on the Images explains that this compelled following results from being in a difficult situation.

The overall image of the Following hexagram (Lake over Thunder) is that the strong, represented by the Qian trigram, places itself beneath two Yin lines. This means that the strong willingly takes a lower position than the weak. When the strong are humble, the weak naturally wish to follow them. Such following is proper; refusing to follow would be improper. Who would not want to follow what is right?

In the Following hexagram, Zhen (Thunder) is below and Dui (Lake) is above, symbolizing action joined with joy. When people are joyful, they are willing to follow; when they are not, they are unwilling. True following comes from the heart and cannot be forced. That is why it is said, “The meaning of acting in step with the times is of the greatest importance”: since there is no single, unchanging time, there can be no single, unchanging way of following.

The first line, as a Yang line, is the principal line of the Zhen trigram. It willingly changes whom it follows and does not stubbornly attach itself to a single person, so it brings good fortune. Rather than give up someone nearby to pursue someone far away, one can build an achievement through a relationship close at hand. Why insist on passing over the second and third lines to follow the fourth? This flexible way of following naturally brings good fortune.

The second line understands that the third line, the “young boy,” is not worth attaching oneself to, while the first line, the “husband,” must not be lost. Though it would like to keep both, circumstances do not allow it, so it chooses to maintain its relationship with the first line. The third line, by contrast, regards the fourth line as a “husband” worth following, and therefore chooses to follow the fourth and give up the “young boy.”

When it is right to follow, if one thinks only of profit and gain and lacks the four virtues of origination, flourishing, benefit, and perseverance, such following will not bring advantage but instead invite misfortune. The fifth line occupies the central, correct position and belongs to the same trigram as the fourth; it already possesses sincere and admirable qualities. As a minister, the fourth line follows the ruler and will naturally gain something. It may seem improper for the minister to speak of winning the ruler’s trust as a reason for following, but who can say that the fourth and fifth lines do not truly trust one another? Their aims are indeed aligned. Moreover, the fourth line knows that following the ruler can establish achievements, and the ruler therefore also wants the fourth line to follow him. How could this kind of “gain” be dangerous?

This passage primarily explains the principles of the "Sui" (Following) and "Gu" (Decay) hexagrams from the Book of Changes.

Regarding the "Sui" hexagram, it speaks of aligning with the times. Like the top sixth line (yao being the constituent parts of a hexagram), if one forces others to follow against the Dao's righteousness, it ultimately won't succeed. A true ruler should unite states through virtuous rituals, and people will naturally follow with willing hearts. Like King Wen of Zhou, even the mountain spirits of the western hills accepted his offerings—how much more would his subjects? Why resort to coercion?

Other lines in the hexagram illustrate this principle: the initial ninth line shows meeting like-minded friends upon stepping out; the second and third lines reveal that focusing solely on petty figures makes one lose the greater ones, and vice versa. The key lies in possessing the four virtues of "yuan heng li zhen" (originating, prospering, benefiting, and persevering). Without these, forced following brings misfortune. Fang Shihua said the essence of "Sui" is acting according to the moment—timing is omnipresent, hence none of the six lines have fixed objects to follow. One follows when appropriate and lets go when not—the crux is whether the timing is right.

The appendix cites Liu Bang and Xiang Yu's historical rivalry as proof. Zhou Yan explains that the lines speak of acting in time, while the hexagram speaks of resting in time—both action and rest must accord with the moment. This is the greatness of the "following the times" Dao.

Concerning the "Gu" hexagram, it discusses rectifying disorder. Overall auspicious, it favors overcoming major obstacles like crossing great rivers. "Three days before Jia and three days after Jia" refers to special vigilance around the Jia day. The hexagram image—wind beneath a mountain—symbolizes the nobleman rousing the people and nurturing virtue.

The line statements address rectifying inherited problems: the initial sixth line says rectifying paternal disorder, though arduous, ends well; the ninth second line advises maintaining the Middle Way when correcting maternal disorder; the ninth third line notes minor regrets but no grave faults in addressing paternal disorder; the sixth fourth line warns that indulging paternal disorder invites regret; the sixth fifth line promises acclaim for rectifying paternal disorder. These teachings urge us to inherit our forebears' legacy through virtue.

This passage explores the philosophy of the "Gu Hexagram" (Hexagram of Decay) from the Book of Changes. The topmost yang line states: "Not serving kings or lords, maintaining noble aspirations," with the commentary explaining that this attitude of refusing to curry favor is worthy of emulation.

The Gu hexagram's structure shows mountain above wind below (Gen above Xun below), symbolizing disconnection between upper and lower realms. When neither acts, decay arises. Only by first recognizing how obstruction breeds decay can we understand governance must begin with clearing blockages—hence the hexagram's judgment "yuan heng" (great success). Similarly, only through recognizing how inaction causes decay do we realize governance requires action—thus "li she da chuan" (favorable to cross great rivers).

The text mentions "three days before Jia and three days after Jia," using heavenly stems and earthly branches (Zi-Xu-Shen, Wu-Chen-Yin) to illustrate cyclical time. The Dao of heaven operates through endless cycles. So too with rectifying decay: by refusing complacency, we uncover its roots for remedy.

The sage's method for curing decay is simple: governing state decay follows the same principles as household decay. Though methods differ, the key lies in willingness and capability. Even risking danger to correct a father's faults brings ultimate good fortune; even with inner regrets, no misfortune follows. Those who heal decay must be filial children.

The author reflects: Rulers and parents form one family. Those who manage households can govern states; those who rectify parental errors can assist rulers. Yet people often focus solely on domestic problems while treating the state as temporary lodging. This occurs because while some ministers may nobly refrain from serving rulers, no child can refuse to serve parents—children must inherit paternal will and correct errors.

Refusing royal service is understandable, yet today nearly all serve rulers—such noble individuals are exceedingly rare. Through the Dao of curing decay, this passage reveals how self-cultivation, household management, and state governance share common principles, particularly emphasizing the value of maintaining independent character between filial piety and royal service.

This passage explores the profound meaning of the "Gu Hexagram" (Hexagram of Decay) in the Yijing (Book of Changes). Gu (symbolizing corruption and malady) is like utensils growing worms from disuse, people falling ill from prolonged comfort, or societal ills emerging during extended peace. The sages particularly emphasize a child's duty to "address decay" for their parents, illustrating an inescapable responsibility rooted in the heart.

Those in high positions (represented by the top yang line) often claim to "hold lofty principles," but this is merely an excuse for inaction. Serving parents as children and being loyal to rulers as subjects are fundamental duties under heaven. If even nobles and officials neglect their responsibilities, they become rebels violating cosmic order. While the sages acknowledge that such "disdain for power" is admirable, if everyone followed suit, who would govern the state or care for parents? This would lead to chaos.

The text analyzes the different approaches to addressing decay symbolized by each line: The first line represents a strong father figure, the second a gentle mother figure. Addressing a mother's issues (handling maternal decay) requires subtlety (not forceful correction), hence the second yang line's method differs from the first and third. The fifth yin line, instead of guiding the father with proper principles, uses flattery and compliance (praising to coax the father), which worsens corruption. The true art lies in gentle influence (the subtle art of imperceptible correction), helping the father reform unconsciously—this is the essence of addressing decay.

Su Dongpo (Su Shih) insightfully adds: Gu's nature is "creating problems from peace." Believing lasting tranquility justifies negligence ultimately breeds greater crises. Utensils need regular use, bodies require movement, and the world demands governance—how could the calamity of decay arise overnight? This perfectly aligns with human nature and cosmic principle.

This scripture primarily discusses the governance principles of the "Gu" hexagram and family ethics. The general meaning is as follows:

When the world is at peace without troubles, if one still acts as cautiously as wading across a river, it may instead lead to complacency. Lu Bozai states that the sun's movement follows the six Jia cycles (an ancient timekeeping method), like an endless circle—this is the natural law of the Dao's operation, ensuring that creation never declines.

Shao Guoxian explains the term "zhi gu" (governing decay) similarly to "zhi luan" (governing chaos) or "zhi huang" (governing famine). Zixia believes that although focusing on handling affairs is laborious, achieving one's aspirations through it will prevent faults. Zheng Kangcheng adds that when a son alters his father's ways, though difficult at first, it ultimately brings good fortune because the intention is virtuous.

Cai Jiefu and others discuss "yu fu zhi gu" (gently addressing a father's failings), emphasizing that the key lies in practical action. They particularly stress that matters concerning the mother require even greater caution than those of the father—a principle equally applicable to ministers serving their rulers.

Jiao Ruohou points out that the first five lines of the Gu hexagram all address resolving a father's issues, yet the final line suddenly states "not serving kings or nobles." This resembles the idea that when parents grow old, children should not travel far to take office. Zengzi, for instance, once declined a high-ranking appointment from Qi due to his parents' advanced age.

Wang Ji analyzes the hexagram imagery: Gen (mountain) above and Xun (wind) below symbolize obstruction between upper and lower, leading to decay. Governing societal ills should resemble a skilled physician treating illness—both dispelling external pathogens (revitalizing the people's spirit) and nurturing vital Qi (cultivating virtue). Zhou Yan adds that revitalizing the people's spirit aims to correct submissive tendencies, while cultivating virtue overcomes complacency.

Finally, the mentioned Lin hexagram (Dui below, Kun above) states: "Supreme success, beneficial perseverance," yet warns of danger by the eighth month. This serves as a reminder to remain vigilant against future crises even in favorable circumstances.

The Lin Hexagram (Earth over Lake) in the Book of Changes illustrates the gradual growth of yang energy and the principle of acting with gentle compliance. The hexagram imagery reveals that when yang firmness occupies the central position and resonates with yin softness, success and smoothness follow—this aligns with the Dao (the Way). However, by the eighth lunar month (symbolizing the rise of yin energy), danger arises because yang cannot remain dominant indefinitely.

The hexagram shows earth above a lake (symbolizing a noble ruler facing the people). Thus, the noble person must constantly contemplate the methods of moral instruction, embracing and protecting the populace without end.

Detailed line interpretations:

The first line (Initial Nine) states that governing through sincere influence brings good fortune because both intention and conduct are upright. The second line (Nine Two) similarly advocates governing through influence—not only auspicious but also universally beneficial. Though not fully compliant with the ruler’s commands, it harmonizes with the enlightened sovereign (Six Five).

The third line (Six Three) warns that governing with sweet words yields no good outcome. Yet, if one promptly reflects and corrects, no misfortune follows, as the position itself is inherently misaligned. The fourth line (Six Four) governs through direct engagement without error, as the position is appropriate.

The fifth line (Six Five), as the enlightened sovereign, understands governance—this is the ruler’s duty. Its auspiciousness stems from balanced action. The top line (Upper Six) governs with earnest sincerity, ensuring good fortune and absence of calamity, as the mind is focused on inner cultivation.

The Lin Hexagram comprises two yang lines (symbolizing rising yang) facing four yin lines. The phrases "yuan heng li zhen" (originating, penetrating, beneficial, steadfast) praise yang’s growth, while "the eighth month brings danger" warns of its eventual decline. The sage both celebrates yang’s ascent and cautions against its retreat, revealing profound intent to support yang’s vigor. The resonance between Initial Nine and Six Four, and between Nine Two and Six Five, demonstrates the governance principle of yin-yang interaction. Here, the emphasis lies on the sovereign (Six Five) embodying wisdom, while the minister (Nine Two), though not wholly submissive, complements the ruler synergistically.

This passage elucidates the principles of the "Lin Hexagram" (Approach) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), using the story of Emperor Shun to illustrate the wisdom of governing the world.

The phrase "the fifth line receives through compliance, the second line influences through centrality" means the ruler in the honored position (fifth line) should follow the will of the people, while the minister (second line) should influence the ruler with the Dao of centrality and rectitude. Mere blind compliance does not constitute true assistance. Emperor Shun was considered a great sage precisely because he governed the people through the Middle Way.

The third line (six-three) occupies an improper position, resembling those who flatter superiors with sweet words. If the superior remains unmoved, such flattery turns into sorrow—sweet words becoming bitter fruit. Yet it is precisely this predicament that naturally cultivates vigilance, thereby preventing mistakes.

"Dun Lin" (the top line, six-six) signifies that those in high positions should treat subordinates with magnanimity. Just as the earth embraces lakes and marshes, a noble person governs the people with generosity. The sage-kings of the Three Dynasties ruled their people like containing water with earth—if pressed too tightly, it bursts its banks; only through tolerant embrace can nourishing lakes form.

Supplementary explanations by scholars in the appendix:

Yang Jian interprets "misfortune in the eighth month" as referring to the growth of yin energy. Counting from the Fu Hexagram (Return) with its single yang line, through the Lin, Tai (Peace), Dazhuang (Great Strength), Guai (Resolution), Qian (Heaven), Gou (Encounter), and Dun (Retreat) hexagrams, yin energy becomes dominant by the eighth month. Yin is measured by months, yang by days.

Xiong Guo explains "ultimate approach" (zhi lin) as the Kun (Earth) and Dui (Lake) hexagrams intersecting—earth and lake approaching each other. "Dun" (magnanimity) in ancient texts refers to raised earth mounds, symbolizing inclusive oversight from above.

Wang Ji states that among all approaching relationships in nature, none is more exemplary than earth approaching water. Controlling water with earth seems simple, but if constrained narrowly, the water breaks through; if embraced generously, it forms a reservoir. This is how noble persons govern the people.

This interpretation of the Guan hexagram in the Yijing explains how rulers can influence the people through their own virtue. Here, “Guan” means to observe and to set an example.

The hexagram shows Kun (Earth) below and Xun (Wind) above, symbolizing wind moving across the earth, where all things can be seen. This is like the sage kings of antiquity traveling through the regions, observing the people’s circumstances and guiding them through instruction. The hexagram’s statement, “Observing the washing of hands, but not yet presenting the offerings; sincerity and solemnity,” means that while a person in authority is still washing their hands in preparation for a sacrifice, before presenting the offerings, their sincere and solemn bearing has already moved those below them.

The individual lines explain this in turn. The first six says that observing superficially, like a child, is no problem for ordinary people, but is regrettable in a junzi (noble person). The second six describes peering through a crack in the door: suitable for a woman who remains chaste, but an undignified posture. The third six says to observe one’s own conduct when deciding whether to advance or withdraw. The fourth six says to observe the splendor of the state; this is fitting for someone who is to serve as a guest of the king. The fifth nine says that when a junzi observes the people’s lives, he makes no mistakes. The top nine says that by observing how others live, even a junzi can avoid mistakes.

The central idea is that the fifth nine, occupying the ruler’s place, need not preach deliberately. Just as the Way of Heaven speaks no words while the four seasons proceed, the ruler’s own solemn and reverent bearing can naturally move the people. This is what is meant by “establishing instruction through the way of the spirits”: it does not refer to mysterious magic, but to guiding the people through the subtle influence of virtuous example.

The whole hexagram stresses that rulers should lead by example. Like wind passing over the earth, their influence is invisible yet reaches everywhere. By observing the people’s circumstances and reflecting on themselves with a balanced and upright attitude, they allow those throughout the realm to follow their example of their own accord. True instruction lies not in preaching with words, but in the virtue that naturally shines through in everyday conduct.

This passage from the classic is mainly about the principle of “observation”: the different levels of seeing and understanding. It uses six line positions, such as Six in the Fourth and Nine in the Fifth, to describe distinct states of observation.

Those at the lowest level see only outward appearances (“they see its likeness but not its truth”), much as a child sees only the small aspects of things (“a child’s observation sees only what is small”). Observers at the middle level, such as the Six in the Third, can observe but do not dare to act rashly. The highest-level observers are the Six in the Fourth and the Nine in the Fifth. As the leading line of the Xun trigram, the Six in the Fourth can approach the position of the Nine in the Fifth. It can therefore “observe the radiance of the state”—understand matters of national importance—and become an honored guest of the ruler. The Nine in the Fifth is the true master of observation: it teaches through the spirit’s power, enabling people to understand the principle without words.

In the appendix, Su Shi explains that the true way of observation is to bring the people to one’s side without relying on material objects, and to make them understand without words. The sage transforms the people through the spirit’s power. Institutions such as punishments are established but not used lightly. Xiong Guo’s commentary adds that “observation” in this passage refers more to attending to affairs of state and the rites of receiving guests than to sacrificial activities.

Taken as a whole, the passage describes different depths of observation. At its highest level, observation transforms people without words, so that they follow naturally. People of different capacities see different aspects of the same thing according to their own level of understanding.

Wu Youqing explains: The first line (yang) represents the masculine image, symbolizing a young boy; the second line (yin) embodies the feminine image, representing a maiden. "I" refers to the third line. The greatest virtue (De) of heaven and earth is the generation of all things. The third line of the lower trigram occupies the highest position, bordering the Xun trigram (symbolizing advance and retreat). Thus, this line examines its learning by observing its own growth, as if saying, "I am not yet confident in what I have learned."

Yang Jian mentions: Zixia (a disciple of Confucius) enjoyed discussing subtle principles. After Confucius's passing, he considered certain wise rulers as sage-like and wished to serve them as he had served Confucius, but Zengzi (another disciple) firmly opposed this. Only Zengzi could avoid such improper veneration. He further notes that the third line, positioned at the apex of the lower trigram and about to enter the upper trigram, stands at a critical juncture of transition. While the third line embodies the imagery of advance and retreat, the fourth line progresses further, enabling one to observe the radiant state of a nation.

Wang Ji elaborates: The wind moves across the earth, interacting with all things, forming the symbol of comprehensive observation. Ancient rulers, seeking to educate the world, established the system of royal inspections—sometimes touring regions annually, other times convening grand assemblies every five years. They unified calendars, weights, and measures, commissioned musicians to collect poetry for assessing folk customs, and gauged popular preferences through market prices. After examining regional differences in customs, they implemented targeted teachings: for instance, teaching agriculture to commerce-focused Qi, ritual propriety to unrestrained Wei, frugality to extravagant Cao, and ceremonial decorum to austere Wei—thereby unifying moral standards and harmonizing social practices.

Regarding the "Shihe" hexagram (symbolizing biting through and penal justice):

The hexagram statement reads: Success; favorable for legal proceedings. The "Tuanzhuan" explains: An obstruction in the mouth must be bitten through—only then comes success. The interplay of firm and yielding lines, combined with enlightened action, manifests like thunder and lightning. The yielding line centered and ascending, though positioned incorrectly, suits the resolution of legal matters.

The "Xiangzhuan" states: Thunder and lightning symbolize the Shihe hexagram; thus, ancient kings clarified punishments and rectified laws accordingly.

Line interpretations:

First Nine: Shackles injure the toes—no major blame. Symbolizes constrained action.

Second Six: Biting tender meat injures the nose—no blame. Due to overriding firmness.

Third Six: Biting cured meat encounters poison—minor distress but no major blame. Positioned incorrectly.

Fourth Nine: Biting sinewy meat finds a bronze arrow—perseverance brings fortune. Not yet fully illuminated.

Fifth Six: Biting dried meat finds gold—maintaining rectitude prevents blame. Handled appropriately.

Top Nine: Shouldering shackles injures the ears—ominous.

This passage explains the "Shihe Hexagram" (symbolizing biting and punishment) from the Book of Changes (Yijing). The Image Text mentions "carrying a wooden collar that covers the ears," referring to wearing punishment devices that obstruct hearing, symbolizing refusal to heed advice.

The imagery of the Fire-Thunder Shihe Hexagram is as follows: "Shi" means to bite, while "He" means to close, like holding something in the mouth that must be bitten through before the jaws can shut. The hexagram consists of two solid yang lines at the top and bottom, sandwiching a yielding yin line in between, resembling an open mouth. The single yang line crossing the middle represents an obstruction in the mouth that must be bitten through to close it—hence the name "Shihe."

Various interpretations of this hexagram:

Cheng Yi explains that this symbolizes using punishment to remove obstacles. In legal cases, uncovering the truth and delivering fair judgments earn public trust. Li Guangdi compares it to how heaven and earth, in creating all things, use thunder and lightning to shatter obstructions; similarly, sages governing the world employ punishment to eliminate harms to the people. The Shihe Hexagram serves to clear blockages—just as thunder clears natural barriers, punishment removes societal ones.

Zhu Xi elaborates: Biting dried meat is harder than biting fresh meat but easier than gnawing bones. Liu Junbo interprets "carrying a collar that covers the ears": "carrying" means to bear, "collar" refers to wooden punishment devices, and "covering the ears" indicates the device encircling the neck and obscuring hearing.

The discussion then turns to the crux of legal judgment: resolving cases requires identifying the critical juncture, much like a chef handling meat must locate the tendons and joints to make clean cuts. The bottom line symbolizes shackles covering the toes, while the top line represents a cangue covering the ears. The second yin line (Six-Two) signifies a difficult case to adjudicate, like biting so deeply into meat that the nose sinks in, reaching the bone.

(Note: This passage primarily uses the metaphor of biting to illustrate legal punishment, emphasizing that governance must target key issues and that penalties should be just and appropriate. "Dried meat" and "meat with bones" are images from the Shihe Hexagram symbolizing varying degrees of difficulty in legal resolution.)

This passage primarily explains the hexagram statements of "Shihe" (Biting Through) and "Bi" (Adornment) from the Book of Changes, along with an analysis of the imagery of the "Mountain over Fire" (Bi) hexagram.

Regarding the "Shihe" hexagram:

The third yin line, though in an inappropriate position, is likened to biting into cured meat and encountering something toxic—a minor nuisance. However, because one has personally bitten into it and obtained it, there is ultimately no misfortune. The fourth yang line embodies firm virtue; when biting into dried meat with bones, one obtains a metal arrow (the "golden arrow" refers to utensils). The fifth yin line is gentle and centered, so when biting into dried meat, one obtains gold, signifying proper handling. The second yin line, though "riding on firmness" (a yin line above a yang line), is in the initial stage, so it merely bites the skin. The third line corresponds to the firm top line (yang), hence the reference to cured meat with bones. The fourth line mentions "dried meat with bones," while the fifth mentions "dried meat," illustrating the distinction between yang (nine) and yin (six) lines.

Regarding the "Bi" hexagram:

The Bi hexagram symbolizes adornment leading to success, with minor gains for those who proceed. The yielding lines come to adorn the firm lines, hence the success. The firm lines above adorn the yielding lines, so minor gains are possible when proceeding. Observing celestial patterns reveals seasonal changes; observing human patterns enables the transformation of the world. The hexagram image is "mountain over fire" (Bi); thus, the noble person should scrutinize governmental affairs but refrain from hastily adjudicating legal cases.

Line interpretations:

First nine: Adorning the toes, abandoning the carriage to walk (prioritizing righteousness over convenience).

Second six: Adorning the beard (rising together with those above).

Third nine: Adorned with radiant luster, steadfast perseverance brings good fortune (ultimately unassailable).

Fourth six: Adorned in pure white, riding a white horse—not a bandit but a suitor (though correctly positioned, doubts arise, yet no fault in the end).

Fifth six: Adorning the hills and gardens with modest silk—though regretful, ultimately auspicious (due to joyous events).

Top nine: Unadorned simplicity, free from blame (fulfilling one's aspirations).

Finally, the explanation of the "Mountain over Fire" (Bi) hexagram:

Originally, the hexagram was composed of Qian (Heaven) below and Kun (Earth) above. Now, a single line from Kun moves into the center of Qian, transforming firmness into the cultured Li (Fire) hexagram, with yielding lines adorning the firm ones. Qian symbolizes strength, ever-successful whether adorned or not. The yielding lines' adornment does not rely on adornment for success, yet adornment still brings success—hence "Bi brings success." The middle line of Qian also divides and ascends above Kun, transforming yielding lines into the firmness of Gen (Mountain), with firm lines adorning yielding ones above. Kun symbolizes docility, requiring Qian's strength to function.

This passage explores the profound meaning of the "Bi Hexagram" (symbolizing ornamentation) from the Book of Changes. The interweaving of Yin and Yang, the blending of firm and yielding, represents the transformations of natural law (the Dao of Heaven)—this is the principle governing celestial phenomena. Without this natural order, the four seasons would not alternate, and heavenly patterns would remain obscure. The Bi Hexagram's inner trigram (lower trigram) is Li, symbolizing civilization, while its outer trigram (upper trigram) is Gen, symbolizing stillness. This reflects the principle of human culture—when civilization reaches a certain stage, it returns to stillness, ultimately reverting to simplicity.

Without observing celestial patterns, one cannot comprehend the mysteries of natural transformation; without studying human culture, one cannot understand how humanity may assist in the transformations of heaven and earth. The restraining function of the Gen trigram is particularly significant. The initial line (bottom line) symbolizes firmness yet occupies a humble position, like adorning toes with refinement—though superficially decorated, its essence is stillness. The second line seeks to ornament the beard but is constrained by the third line's firmness, ultimately failing to achieve true adornment.

The topmost line, the ninth, attains the highest state of "plain adornment" (bai bi), symbolizing a recluse in the hills and fields. The yielding fifth line, as a compliant ruler, willingly accepts the simple adornments of the rustic, appearing frugal and unadorned yet nearing the realm of bai bi. The elderly hermits need no extravagant gifts; by not deliberately currying favor with those above, they ultimately attain auspiciousness.

The fourth line occupies a pure Yin position. Though still harboring doubts, it is already as spotless as a white horse. Instead of viewing those above as adversaries, it approaches them like a marriage partner, ultimately avoiding missteps. This illustrates that the most refined adornment is a return to simplicity—like white, which contains all colors within it, appearing unadorned yet embodying supreme beauty.

This passage discusses the principles of Yin-Yang and hard-soft transformations in the "Bi Hexagram" (Symbolizing Adornment) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), as well as the mutual conversion relationships between hexagram images.

The Bi Hexagram's image shows fire beneath a mountain, resembling flames illuminating a forest to reveal the splendor of vegetation. Observing this phenomenon, the noble person understands that governance should be as clear as illuminating light, yet when adjudicating cases, one must focus on facts rather than superficial embellishments. Excessive ornamentation can obscure truth, so judgments shouldn't rely on flowery rhetoric.

The text explains that the fundamental transformation between Yin-Yang and hard-soft stems from the Qian (Pure Yang) and Kun (Pure Yin) hexagrams. When Qian donates one Yang line to Kun while removing one Yin line, it generates three "son hexagrams" (Zhen, Kan, Gen), all featuring one Yang and two Yin lines. Conversely, when Kun donates one Yin line to Qian while removing one Yang line, it produces three "daughter hexagrams" (Xun, Li, Dui), each with one Yin and two Yang lines.

Particular attention is given to the Bi Hexagram's statement "soft comes to adorn the hard," similar to how the Gu Hexagram says "hard ascends while soft descends," the Xian Hexagram states "soft ascends while hard descends," the Heng Hexagram notes "hard ascends while soft descends," the Sun Hexagram describes "reducing below to benefit above," and the Yi Hexagram explains "reducing above to benefit below." These six transformations all represent phenomena of Yin-Yang line position exchanges when specific hexagrams interact. The author criticizes the limited view that Bi Hexagram can only derive from Tai Hexagram, since theoretically any hexagram can transform into any of the other sixty-three hexagrams.

This passage mainly explains the image and line statements of the “Splitting Apart” hexagram in the Yijing (Classic of Changes). The hexagram consists of five Yin lines and one Yang line, with the Yang line at the top. It symbolizes the gradual erosion of Yang by Yin.

First, the passage explains the hexagram’s overall meaning: it shows Yin changing Yang, and warns against taking action because petty people are gaining influence. At such a time, one should follow the course of events, refrain from acting, and observe how things develop. A noble person understands the natural cycles of growth and decline, fullness and loss, which turn and return like the movements of the heavenly bodies. Just as a mountain rests upon the earth, those in higher positions should treat those below them generously in order to secure their foundations.

The passage then explains each line in turn. The bottom line, Six at the Beginning, says, “Splitting begins at the bed’s legs; neglecting the proper way brings danger.” This means the foundations are being eroded. Six in the Second Place says, “Splitting reaches the bed frame,” showing that no one is there to offer help. Six in the Third Place indicates that although the process of splitting apart is underway, there is no disaster, because this line has escaped the restraints imposed from above and below. Six in the Fourth Place, “Splitting reaches the bed,” signals that danger is near. Six in the Fifth Place uses the image of “the palace women, like a school of fish, receiving favor in order” to show that following the course of events brings no harm. The top Yang line, Nine at the Top, is “a large fruit left uneaten.” A noble person receives a carriage, symbolizing the people’s support, while a petty person has even his house stripped away, leaving him without shelter.

Fang Shihua, a Ming-dynasty scholar of the Yijing, adds that from the first line through the fifth, the original Yang strength has turned into Yin; this is why the process is called “splitting and decay.” Yet the Yang line remains at the top, like a seed on the verge of sprouting again, giving rise to the image of “a large fruit left uneaten.” This Yang line is also supported by the five Yin lines, like a noble person receiving a carriage. The statement “the petty person has his hut stripped away” means that without the top Yang line, the five Yin lines would destroy their own shelter. This reveals the pitiable situation of petty people.

Through the “Splitting Apart” hexagram, the passage explains how things transform as they rise and decline. It emphasizes that when Yin grows and Yang wanes, a noble person should follow the Dao of Heaven and build up strength, while petty people who persist in eroding others will ultimately bring harm upon themselves.

This passage explains, through the changing line images of the Stripping hexagram in the Classic of Changes (Yijing), the wisdom of holding to the right path in adversity. When circumstances are unfavorable—with petty people in power and fortune against you—the proper course is to wait patiently for the right moment, as one waits through a winter night for spring, rather than flee blindly. Just as day and night and the seasons follow one another naturally, a noble person observes the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang (the cycles of increase and decrease, fullness and emptiness) and acts in accord with the Dao of Heaven.

Consider the six lines of the Stripping hexagram. The first Six, at the lowest position, depicts the legs of a bed being stripped away. By keeping to a lowly position, one can remain safe despite being weak. The second Six depicts the bed frame being stripped away. By holding to the centered and correct path, without simply following the crowd, one can also avoid harm. These two lines show that even in a time of decline, one will not invite danger so long as one does not abandon one’s integrity.

The third Six, by contrast, is surrounded by Yin lines above and below, yet it avoids disaster by remaining in correspondence with the ninth line, the Yang line above, and holding firmly to the right path. The fifth Six leads the gathered Yin lines in following the ninth Yang line, like palace women attending their ruler in orderly procession; this wins the sage’s praise. These two lines reveal that the yielding Yin lines can remain secure even in a time of decline by attaching themselves to firm Yang.

Only the fourth Six, though close to the ruler’s position, brings disaster upon itself—like a bed stripped down to the sleeper’s skin. This is a foolish choice. Finally, the ninth line is like the one remaining large fruit, symbolizing that Yang energy will eventually revive. As Cheng Yi (styled Cheng Zhengshu) said, Yang energy cannot be extinguished completely: just as it recedes from the heights, new life is already taking root below.

This passage primarily explains the meaning of the "Return Hexagram" (Fu Gua) in the Book of Changes. "Return" signifies reverting to the proper path and making a fresh start.

Cai Jiefu explains that the circumstances of noble persons (junzi) and petty persons (xiaoren) cannot coexist. If the noble person gains the carriage (symbolizing status), the petty person will lose their dwelling (symbolizing downfall). The top yang line (Shang Jiu) occupies the highest position, supported by five yin lines, representing the noble person gaining power. However, if this yang line changes, it transforms into the pure yin Kun hexagram, losing heaven's protection, and the petty person will suffer misfortune.

Zhu Zhonghui states that the mountain relies on the earth (symbolizing the Return Hexagram), and it is precisely because the earth is substantial that one can dwell securely.

The hexagram image shows Zhen (Thunder) below and Kun (Earth) above, indicating thunder hidden within the earth as yang qi begins to revive. The hexagram statement says: "Returning to the proper path brings smooth progress. Coming and going encounters no obstacles. Friends arriving bring no harm. The Dao of heaven completes its cycle in seven days. Action at this time is favorable."

The Tuan Commentary explains: "Yang's firmness returns, moving with the current, thus encountering no obstacles. The seven-day cycle is heaven's constant pattern. When yang's firmness grows, action is favorable. The Return Hexagram manifests the Dao of heaven and earth's operation."

The Xiang Commentary states: "Thunder hidden within earth symbolizes the Return Hexagram. Ancient kings closed city gates at the winter solstice, merchants and travelers ceased movement, and rulers suspended inspections of the realm."

Meanings of individual lines:

Initial Nine: Returning after straying not far brings no great regret—supreme good fortune. (Symbolizing timely correction of errors)

Six Two: Admirable return brings good fortune. (Symbolizing taking benevolence as the standard)

Six Three: Repeated hesitation brings danger, but ultimately no harm. (Symbolizing wavering but ultimately returning to the proper path)

Six Four: Walking the central path alone in returning. (Symbolizing steadfast adherence to the proper path)

Six Five: Sincere return brings no regret. (Symbolizing self-reflection)

Top Six: Losing direction without returning brings misfortune and calamity. Used in military campaigns guarantees great defeat, brings misfortune to rulers, and ensures no success for ten years. (Symbolizing violating the proper way of rulership)

In summary: Yang's firmness returning constitutes "return," and return brings smooth progress. When not returning, the spirit becomes unsettled, creating obstacles; once returning, all flows unimpeded. When not returning, friends are affected, but after returning, even if yin-aligned friends come, no harm results. All people will emulate this practice of self-cultivation and virtue, taking benevolence as fundamental, strictly demanding of themselves, persisting in returning to the proper path, never willingly descending into the misfortune of being lost.

This interpretation of the Fu (Return) hexagram from the Yijing (Book of Changes) explores the principle of cyclical renewal in all phenomena. Through the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang, it emphasizes the importance of recognizing one's errors and returning to the right path.

The Fu hexagram symbolizes the initial resurgence of Yang energy, where the gravest mistake is persistent delusion. The first line (the Yang line at the bottom) represents timely repentance that brings no regret, hence great fortune. This state of "no blame or remorse" (wu zhi hui) is likened to returning home—free from the regret of aimless wandering.

The text compares different scenarios across the lines: The second line (Yin) benefits from proximity to the first line's Yang strength, allowing smooth return to the Dao. The third line (Yin), though unstable in position, ultimately finds its way back despite repeated wavering. The fourth line (Yin) responds solely to the first Yang line, termed "solitary return" (du fu). The fifth line (Yin), occupying the central position, achieves introspection—called "sincere return" (dun fu). These variations demonstrate that while the difficulty of returning differs, the outcome remains auspicious.

The topmost sixth line (Yin) represents the extreme dominance of Yin energy making return nearly impossible, marked by repeated warnings—"misfortune," "calamity," and "great defeat." This illustrates how even the benevolent influence of the first Yang line cannot save those obstinately lost.

Later annotations elaborate: When Yin energy peaks (as in the Bo hexagram), an abrupt reversal occurs—the reappearance of Yang constitutes Fu. The seven-stage cycle from Gou to Fu (Gou, Dun, Pi, Guan, Bo, Kun, Fu) mirrors Yang energy's cyclical rhythm. The first Yang line embodies the initial turnback, while the second Yin line actively returns under its influence—termed "auspicious return" (xiu fu).

Jin Rubai's commentary observes that studying Fu reveals the essence of "humaneness" (ren)—the innate creative nature of heaven and earth. Just as Yang energy temporarily retreats only to regrow, this is cosmic law. The "Yang's return" (gang fan) initiates Fu, while "Yang's growth" (gang zhang) marks its subsequent trajectory.

This passage primarily elucidates interpretations of the "Return" (Fu) and "No Falsehood" (Wu Wang) hexagrams from the Book of Changes (Yijing).

Regarding the "Return" hexagram, various commentaries suggest: The Fu hexagram manifests the fundamental operation of Heaven and Earth (the heart of tian-di), with all six lines embodying benevolence (ren-de). The initial line symbolizes timely correction of mistakes like Yan Hui; the second line represents virtuous individuals like Min Ziqian cultivating benevolence through worthy companionship. The third line's "frequent return" denotes repeated errors and corrections—while sages worry about such vacillation, they affirm the act of reform. The fourth line's "solitary return" describes Mencius independently transmitting Confucius' Dao despite living in later times. The fifth line's "sincere return" corresponds to Zengzi, embodying the receptive Earth principle's substantiality. The top line's "deluded return" refers to those who abandon themselves to depravity.

Concerning the "No Falsehood" hexagram: Its image shows Thunder (Zhen) below Heaven (Qian), symbolizing cosmic thunder stirring all things into authentic being. The judgment states that adhering to the correct path brings success, while deviation invites misfortune. The initial line's "no falsehood in going brings good fortune" indicates that maintaining sincerity (cheng) in action fulfills one's aspirations. Ancient kings emulated this hexagram by following celestial timing to nurture all beings.

Additional commentaries clarify: The Return hexagram reflects Heaven-Earth's patterns but isn't the patterns themselves; the danger in "frequent return" lies in repeated errors rather than repeated corrections; "solitary return" means returning alone to the right path when others are lost. Later generations neglect self-cultivation, hence fail to understand the importance of drawing near to worthies.

This passage comes from the "No Errancy" hexagram (Wuwang) in the Book of Changes, expounding on the principle that one should eliminate delusions and accord with heavenly mandate. "No Errancy" means being genuine and free from false thoughts.

The second line states: Seeking harvest without plowing, or expecting cultivated fields without clearing wilderness—such impatient pursuit of gain brings no benefit. The appended judgment explains: Those who seek unearned rewards will never attain true abundance.

The third line describes: Misfortune without cause is like a stranger's ox running loose—when a passerby takes it, the local villager gets wrongly blamed. The judgment says: The passerby gains the ox, yet the local suffers calamity.

The fourth line advises: Maintain uprightness and no misfortune will occur. The judgment clarifies: By steadfastly holding to the correct path, one naturally avoids error.

The fifth line observes: Illness without cause may heal without medicine. The judgment cautions: This "unprovoked ailment" requires no reckless treatment.

The top line warns: Forced action in a state of no-errancy inevitably brings disaster—nothing proves advantageous. The judgment states: Such rash movement leads to calamitous dead ends.

The entire hexagram illustrates the principle of "Heaven's Thunder: No Errancy"—only genuine freedom from delusion brings natural success. The heavenly mandate is inherently true and without falsity, just as healthy eyes see no phantom flowers in the sky. Those who perceive heavenly will as unjust actually harbor delusions themselves. Heaven's mandate constantly blesses silently, yet people often remain blind to it due to their own false thoughts. The hexagram image shows thunder moving under heaven and the genuineness of all things—students should comprehend the authenticity of "no errancy."

The initial yang line indicates the first stirring of vital energy to dispel false thoughts—action at this stage brings auspicious results. Yet the second line reminds us that even when the shaking eliminates delusions, sages still worry about potential regrets, hence their repeated admonitions to remain grounded.

This passage discusses the meanings of each line in the "No Errancy" hexagram (Wu Wang) from the Book of Changes. The hexagram teaches the principle of following nature's course and avoiding willful action.

The initial nine line (yang line at the bottom) symbolizes thunder erupting from beneath the earth, representing the beginning of dispelling delusion. Maintaining stillness at this stage brings good fortune, as it aligns with the Dao of heaven.

The six-two line (second yin line) embodies the natural cycle of tilling and harvesting from the earth. The ideal state would be reaping without forced cultivation (metaphorically gaining wealth without striving for it). However, the yin line's inherent tendency toward miserliness makes effortless gain difficult, requiring vigilance against greed.

The six-three line recounts a parable about three men and an ox: one tethers it, another gains it, and the third loses it. This illustrates life's unpredictable gains and losses—seemingly accidental outcomes that actually stem from one's own conduct, not mere fate.

The nine-four line, positioned below the Qian (heavenly) trigram yet internally empty and clear, maintains steadfast conviction without reckless action, thus avoiding misfortune. Such resoluteness is humanity's innate quality.

The nine-five line, though ideally embodying vigorous centrality and understanding "no errancy"'s essence, becomes self-doubting through its correspondence with the six-two line (yin-yang resonance). This resembles illness caused by random medicine-taking.

The top nine line has already deviated from the proper path. While recognizing that wealth shouldn't be forcibly sought, it fails to understand poverty's potential disasters—revealing an inner departure from "no errancy"'s true meaning.

The conclusion states: When vigorous energy enters from without to govern within, creating strong yet balanced action with mutual resonance, this constitutes heaven's mandate of great smoothness. How could the heavenly mandate involve falsehood? Each line's fortune or misfortune ultimately depends on alignment with this natural principle.

This passage primarily elucidates the principles of the hexagrams "No Errancy" (Wuwang) and "Great Accumulation" (Dachu).

Regarding the "No Errancy" hexagram, it teaches that when a person is fundamentally free from deluded thoughts yet forcibly takes medicine to cure illness, the condition may actually worsen. Like the top yang line (the sixth line of a hexagram) which is excessively rigid and not centered, failing to understand the innate nature of Qian (Heaven, one of the Eight Trigrams) that is free from error, and stubbornly heading toward calamity—this is entirely self-inflicted trouble. The sage interacts with external things like a mirror: neither rejecting what comes nor clinging to what goes—this is the state of "No Errancy." There's no need to deliberately reject external things, as they naturally cannot affect one who is in this state. Why would such a person need medicine at all?

Next, the "Great Accumulation" hexagram (composed of Gen above and Qian below) signifies benefit in steadfastly adhering to the correct path. It is auspicious not to rely on family provisions, and favorable for crossing great rivers. This is because Qian represents strength and steadfastness, while Gen (Mountain, one of the Eight Trigrams) embodies radiant renewal. Their combination constitutes the virtue of "Great Accumulation." This hexagram instructs us to diligently study the words and deeds of sages to cultivate our virtue.

Detailed line interpretations:

• The initial yang line indicates danger, but timely cessation brings benefit.
• The second yang line describes an axle coming loose, yet maintaining the Middle Way prevents fault.
• The third yang line portrays fine horses galloping—though the path is difficult, perseverance in righteousness favors progress.
• The fourth yin line shows placing a crossbar on a young ox (to prevent butting), bringing great fortune.
• The fifth yin line describes capping a boar's tusks (to prevent biting), signifying auspiciousness.
• The top yang line reveals the open heavenly path, representing smooth success.

Finally, the meaning of "Great Accumulation" is explained: Gen represents firm greatness, Qian's three yang lines (consecutive yang lines in the trigram) symbolize steadfast strength, while the Gen aspect in the fourth and fifth lines signifies radiant renewal. The virtue of the top yang line is sufficient to embrace worthy individuals, as it esteems wisdom while occupying the superior position, thus attracting the virtuous to gather.

This passage elucidates the wisdom of the Great Accumulation hexagram (Daxu) from the Book of Changes, whose core principle reveals that "stopping at the proper time enables better progress."

The initial nine-line (yang line at the bottom), though positioned low, possesses virtuous capability and potential for upward development. Yet it exercises restraint, refraining from reckless advancement to avoid calamity caused by impetuosity—a caution worthy of admiration. The second nine-line resembles a chariot prepared for travel but deliberately removing its axle, another manifestation of wisdom. The third nine-line, originally sharing aspirations with the top nine-line, maintains vigilance despite the powerful momentum of the three yang lines (initial nine, second nine, and third nine) advancing together. This mindset—never forgetting hardship while adhering to the correct path—is equally commendable.

The two yin lines (six-four and six-five), symbolizing yielding force, rest above the three yang lines like placing protective wooden blocks (gu) on calves or removing the tusks (fen shi) of wild boars to tame their fierceness. By tempering their vigorous nature through appropriate restraint, virtue is cultivated, naturally bringing great fortune. When the way of accumulation reaches completion, all proper paths become unobstructed, and yang qi (symbolizing active force) expands freely, as though celestial roads open wide.

Particularly noteworthy is how the three yang lines all recognize potential danger (you li) before advancing, pause midway (tuo fu), and ultimately hold fast to the right path (jian zhen). Meanwhile, the six-four and six-five lines employ methods like protective blocks (gu) and tusk removal (fen) to moderate unbridled vigor. This unhurried approach to accumulation mirrors the governing wisdom of the golden ages of Yao and Shun (Tang-Yu zhi ji). The passage concludes by clarifying that stopping is not the ultimate goal—just as the mountain hexagram (Gen, symbolizing stillness) pauses for the sake of better progress. This wisdom of "stopping to advance" constitutes true brilliance that renews daily.

The appended commentary by Su Shi (Dongpo) contrasts the Small Accumulation (Xiaoxu) and Great Accumulation hexagrams: Xiaoxu resembles forced stoppage causing marital discord, while Daxu represents voluntary pausing (yue fu) with inner composure, thus remaining blameless (zhong wu you). This further underscores the importance of proactive self-restraint.

This passage mainly explains the symbolic meaning of the Yi Jing hexagram Yi, “Nourishment,” and the meaning of its line statements. Several scholars offer interpretations from different perspectives.

On the difference between fu and fu: fu refers to the thirty spokes of a wheel, while fu is the part of the axle that holds the spokes in place. The Xiao Xu hexagram says that the spokes are held back by Yin energy, signifying a prolonged pause. The Da Xu hexagram says that the axle fitting stops of its own accord and does not advance, signifying a brief pause after which one can continue forward.

Zheng Xuan and Guan Lu, a famous diviner of the Three Kingdoms period, understood ya to mean a wooden stake used to tether pigs. Just as a stake holds a pig in place, a firm line positioned at the front of the hexagram image is like a fixed stake. Lu Shinong adds that in coastal areas of Shandong, people really did call the wooden stakes used to tether pigs ya.

Jiao Hong, a Ming dynasty scholar, points out that in ancient writing the forms of ri, “sun,” and yue, “to say,” are similar, and that he, “what,” and he, “congratulate,” sound alike and can be used interchangeably. He cites the Zhuangzi phrase “bearing the blue sky on one’s back” and the Han dynasty Rhapsody on the Lu Lingguang Hall to illustrate this usage.

Xiang Xiu, a Jin dynasty scholar of the Learning of the Profound, explains the image of the Da Xu hexagram: nothing represents stopping better than a mountain, and nothing represents vastness better than the sky. The sky within the mountain is the image of Da Xu.

The Yi hexagram, with Zhen below and Gen above, concerns the way of cultivation. Its judgment says to observe how others nourish themselves, while giving even greater attention to one’s own cultivation. Heaven and earth nourish all things; the sages cultivate worthy people, who in turn benefit the people. The way of nourishment is of great significance. The Image says that the noble person should be cautious in speech and moderate in eating.

The line statements mean the following:

The first nine: Abandoning one’s own spirit tortoise, a symbol of inner wisdom, and envying another’s chewing of food brings misfortune.

The second six: Reversing the way of nourishment and going against what is proper brings misfortune when one acts.

The third six: Going against the right way of nourishment leaves one unable to accomplish anything for ten years, because one has completely departed from the Dao.

The fourth six: Although the approach is unconventional, the outcome is auspicious. One is as focused as a tiger watching its prey, and there is no error.

The fifth six: Although one goes against what is usual, holding to the right way brings good fortune; however, one must not risk crossing the great river.

The top nine: Treat the benefits gained through cultivation with care, and good fortune will follow. Crossing difficulties will bring great blessing and celebration.

This interpretation of the Classic of Changes (Yijing), hexagram 27, “Nourishment,” focuses on the principle of nourishing. “Nourishment” originally referred to the cheeks; here it extends to mean raising and sustaining. Through the examples of Heaven and Earth and the sages, the text shows that the true way of nourishment lies in caring for others rather than looking after oneself alone.

Heaven and Earth nourish the myriad beings without nourishing themselves; sages cultivate the worthy and care for the people without seeking their own benefit. This is the most upright and luminous way of nourishment, bringing good fortune (zhen ji). The top yang line symbolizes someone skilled at cultivating the worthy, while the fifth yin line represents the ruler. The ruler should nourish the people, yet instead is sustained by them, which goes against what is proper. Though the first yang line is firm and lowly placed, it is unbecoming if it merely envies the nourishment others receive—“abandoning the sacred tortoise and gazing at the drooling jaws.”

The third yin line should correspond with the top line and receive nourishment, but instead it defies the way of nourishment in pursuit of aloofness, bringing danger. Only the fourth yin line, which belongs to the same trigram as the top line, Gen (Mountain), can follow the way of nourishment and gain good fortune. This is like King Wen of Zhou, who was skilled at cultivating talent and drew worthy men such as Boyi and the Grand Duke of Qi to his side. The passage emphasizes that true nourishment means selflessly cultivating others; seeking only one’s own gain or acting against the proper time invites danger.

This passage elucidates the principles of the Yi Hexagram (the I Ching's symbol concerning nourishment) and the Great Excess Hexagram (symbolizing states of extreme excess).

Regarding the Yi Hexagram, the text states: When those in power nurture talents as heaven and earth nourish all beings, universal harmony can be achieved. Just as a tortoise sustains itself through breath regulation without eating, true nourishment lies in internal cultivation. One must practice careful speech and dietary moderation, for words once spoken cannot be retrieved, just as food consumed cannot be regurgitated.

The Great Excess Hexagram reveals how to handle situations of extreme excess. Its imagery shows a sagging roof beam (symbolizing unstable foundations), requiring firm yet balanced action in accordance with circumstances to achieve success. Specific manifestations include:

• The first yang line advises using white cogon grass for ritual offerings (symbolizing cautious conduct) to avoid errors
• The second yang line compares an old tree sprouting new shoots or an elder man taking a young wife to extraordinary measures in extraordinary times
• The third yang line warns that excessive bending of the roof beam brings danger
• The fourth yang line indicates that while an arched beam appears auspicious, hidden risks may remain
• The fifth yang line likens an old tree flowering or an elderly woman marrying a youth to abnormal phenomena—blameless yet unworthy of praise

The passage concludes by observing that noble persons facing worldly excesses should stand fearless yet unperturbed when withdrawing from society. Through these hexagram transformations, the text demonstrates the wisdom for navigating extreme developmental phases.

This passage explains the deeper meaning of the Great Exceeding hexagram in the Book of Changes, whose image is a lake above wind. It describes why extraordinary measures may be necessary in exceptional times.

The text uses a withered poplar putting forth blossoms as a metaphor for an unusual condition that cannot last. It is like an old woman marrying a young man: though contrary to convention, it should not be condemned. When disaster threatens to overwhelm everything, as in the top line, what appears ominous is in fact beyond reproach, because it is an exceptional act suited to an exceptional time.

The heart of the Great Exceeding hexagram is this: during major change, one must keep the foundations firm and strong. Only the pure strength and vigor symbolized by the Qian hexagram, which represents Heaven, can bring success without blame. It is called “Great Exceeding” because the first and top lines are both Yin, appearing weak and yielding, while Yang strength is excessive.

The text describes three forms of “exceeding”: a ruler surpassing his ministers, a father surpassing his son, and a husband surpassing his wife. If this goes too far, the ruler loses support, the father loses an heir, and the husband loses a partner’s help. In times of great change, one must therefore act quickly and seek new, upright strength to avoid the danger of a sagging beam.

The fourth nine is the hexagram’s most important line. Its strength is balanced and centered; it combines humility, represented by Xun, with openness and joy, represented by Dui, and so it brings success. Its auspicious image is a beam rising high, without needing a response from the first line. By contrast, the third nine is also beam-like in strength, but it is too forceful and lacks balance. It knows only how to yield and lacks the power to act, bringing the danger of a sagging beam.

Finally, the text points out that ancient sages, such as Yao in choosing Shun and King Wu Ding of Shang in appointing Fu Yue, took extraordinary measures in exceptional times. This is the essence of the Great Exceeding hexagram: in exceptional times, one must accomplish what surpasses the ordinary.

This scripture employs the imagery of the "Great Excess" hexagram (one of the 64 hexagrams in the Yijing), using metaphors of trees and marsh waters to illustrate the dynamics of advantage and disadvantage in different situations.

Beginning with the initial six line (the bottom yin line), it resembles white cogon grass placed beneath the Xun wood (symbolizing humility in the trigram). Though the material appears weak, it can avert disaster. When reaching the perilous moment of a sagging roof beam—like a tree submerged by rising waters—no amount of effort can reverse the situation. This demonstrates that extraordinary capability is required to confront major crises.

The top six line (the uppermost yin line) presents the image of "marsh waters submerging wood": when the waters rise too high, even the treetop disappears, naturally signifying danger. Yet from another perspective, while water can drown the tree, it cannot destroy it—when the waters recede, the tree still stands tall. The weakness of the initial line lies in its low position, making the problem inherent to the tree itself; the weakness of the top line, however, occupies a high position, shifting the problem to the marsh waters.

The second and fifth lines both resemble roof beams. Consider how households in Shanxi province cultivate poplar trees—not just for their rapid growth, but because their straight, sturdy trunks make ideal beams. If the optimal usage period is missed and the wood decays, fortunately, withered poplars can still sprout new shoots. This mirrors how the second line, paired with the initial line (symbolizing a young maiden), gains renewal and can still become useful timber. But the fifth line paired with the top line (symbolizing an elderly woman) is different: like a withered poplar blooming, the brief flowering neither endures nor yields new growth, ultimately leading to complete decay.

Additional commentary notes: The roof beam takes Xun wood as its symbol, with the third and fourth lines at the center representing the house beam. Withered poplar signifies outdated timber—the second and fourth lines share the same function, allowing new shoots to emerge, while the third and fifth lines occupy different positions, resulting in flowers without fruit. The initial six line originally symbolizes cogon grass, but with yin beneath yang, it also hints at a young maiden paired with an old man; the top six line originally symbolizes drowning, but with yin above yang, it suggests an elderly woman paired with a young man.

Finally, Yang Yuansu (likely the annotator) observes: This cannot be explained by ordinary moral principles, nor can it be addressed through conventional methods. In extraordinary moments requiring adaptability, the stakes of success or failure are profoundly significant. Through the life, death, flourishing, and decay of trees, this passage reveals how the development of things depends on seizing the right moment and adapting to circumstances.

This passage from the Yi Yin Shangxia Jing primarily interprets the Kan hexagram (symbolizing water and peril) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), drawing upon annotations by multiple scholars to elucidate the wisdom of navigating adversity.

Xiong Guo remarks: Though the poplar tree is ordinary, it can serve as excellent material for building houses (metaphorically suggesting that even humble things have great utility). Lü Zhongmu adds: Just as a ruler in distress encounters ministers capable of restoring order, their relationship is as harmonious as fish and water; or like an enterprising father meeting a son who can inherit the family legacy—such mutual understanding can even resonate with spirits. This is akin to a withered poplar sprouting new buds (symbolizing transformation within adversity).

Wang Ji further explains: A marsh may submerge trees but cannot make them fall (symbolizing maintaining independence without fear in adversity), and may obscure them but cannot destroy them (symbolizing retreating from the world without bitterness)—this is the mark of extraordinary virtue.

The hexagram statement of Kan (composed of two overlapping water trigrams) says: Facing repeated perils, only sincerity can bring inner clarity, and only proper conduct earns reverence. The Tuanzhuan (Commentary on the Judgment) interprets: The Kan hexagram signifies double danger, like water flowing endlessly yet never overflowing. In peril, one must not lose sincerity; inner strength and balance lead to success. The perils of heaven are insurmountable; the perils of earth are mountains and rivers. Kings establish strategic barriers to defend their states—thus, the application of peril is of great importance.

The Xiangzhuan (Commentary on the Images) states: The ceaseless flow of water symbolizes repeated danger; thus, the noble person cultivates virtue persistently and masters the teachings of transformation. The interpretations of each line are as follows:

First Six (Yin line at the bottom):

Falling into a deep pit of repeated peril—misfortune. (Because the path is lost.)

Nine Two (Yang line in the second position):

Seeking in peril brings modest gains. (But one has not yet escaped the heart of danger.)

Six Three (Yin line in the third position):

Coming and going, all is peril—do not act recklessly. (In the end, nothing is achieved.)

Six Four (Yin line in the fourth position):

Presenting simple offerings in earthenware, passed through a window—ultimately no blame. (Balancing firmness and flexibility.)

Nine Five (Yang line in the fifth position):

Peril is not yet full; just as balance is restored, no blame. (Because moderation is upheld without excess.)

Top Six (Yin line at the top):

Bound with ropes, imprisoned among thorns—three years without release, misfortune. (Because the path is abandoned.)

The conclusion observes: Sages establish barriers to secure the state (such as building city walls), and because their Dao is clear, they remain at peace. Thus, sages often worry about insufficient defenses. Meanwhile, worthy individuals enter peril to govern, not because they delight in danger, but ultimately bring calamity upon their families and states, leading to insurmountable disaster. The difference lies in this: one relies on peril to seek stability, while the other is trapped in peril without escape. Herein lies the distinction between sages and worthies, as well as the hierarchy of their wisdom.

This passage discusses the wisdom of navigating adversity (kan). Sages in turbulent times actually use danger as a means of self-preservation. The key lies in one's perspective—if one can calmly face the deepest perils, what difficulty remains insurmountable?

The modern predicament is this: many virtuous individuals neglect scholarly cultivation in ordinary times, yet rigidly cling to ritual propriety and reputation when crisis strikes. By the time they're mired in difficulty, escape becomes impossible. Thus the noble person doesn't hate adversity itself, but remains vigilant against willfully walking into traps. If one doesn't voluntarily enter the snare, how can adversity harm them? But once deliberately entered, immediate escape grows difficult.

True wisdom manifests thus: when trapped in adversity, don't rush to escape. Rather, like King Wen confined in Youli (where the tyrant Zhou imprisoned him), first settle into the present circumstance—treat danger as your pillow. This is the primary principle for handling predicaments. It's not about refusing escape, but understanding that hasty action guarantees failure. Those who chase petty gains while ignoring underlying perils may never break free.

The text cites cautionary examples: the initial six-line yin Yao (bottom line of a hexagram) represents those who actively enter danger—figures like Chen Dong and Ouyang Che, renowned scholars who plunged into hopeless situations—who can they blame? The top six-line yin Yao represents those who've escaped danger yet remain bound by metaphorical ropes and thorns, like ministers Li Gu and Chen Fan who still faced peril within three years. These so-called paragons of virtue ultimately couldn't protect themselves, brought disaster upon their state, yet smugly believed they'd preserved their honor—how pitiful.

In contrast, consider Ning Wuzi (a wise minister of Spring and Autumn period): when assisting Duke Cheng of Wei, he used simple offerings (a cup of wine and two bamboo containers) to navigate crisis while maintaining humility (not overfilling). The second nine-line Yang Yao (central position in lower trigram) seeks gradual progress without rashness; the fifth nine-line Yang Yao (upper trigram's center) faces no obstacles ahead, indicating the adversity's end. Though still within danger, it won't expand. This teaches us: in adversity, understand how softness overcomes hardness. When the time ripens, safe passage comes naturally.

This passage elucidates the meanings of the hexagram lines in the Yijing's Kan (Water) hexagram, which symbolizes perilous situations. The core message reveals that while Kan represents adversity, it contains wisdom for navigating difficulties.

The second yang line (Nine at Second) finds itself in danger but, through firmness and centered virtue, ultimately escapes calamity by cooperating with the fourth yin line. Like water that never overflows its bounds, it maintains integrity even in peril—embodying the principle of "you fu" (sincerity). Both the second and fifth lines possess this steadfast, balanced quality, enabling inner clarity.

The Kan hexagram's doubled water trigrams symbolize layered dangers. Yet precisely through familiarity with adversity, one progresses toward success. Thus Kan actually contains beneficial De (Virtue/Power)—its value lies in skillful application.

Later commentaries cite multiple scholars:

• Jin Rubai notes Kan is the Yijing's only "hexagram of caution," recalling Confucius' remark that the Yijing's authors possessed crisis consciousness.
• Xiong Nansha explains "xi kan" (repeated Kan) as inner and outer trigrams both representing danger, like being trapped in dual perils. "A cup of wine with two bowls of rice in earthenware" signifies humble rites, while "making covenants through the window" reflects unconventional solutions in hardship.
• References to ancient penal systems describe offenders confined in thorn enclosures (symbolizing Kan). Those who reformed were freed after three years; the unrepentant faced execution.

Su Shi (Dongpo) interprets: Those in adversity need no elaborate ceremonies—shared hardship naturally fosters mutual trust. Like the relationship between the fourth and fifth lines: rulers require ministers' support, just as ministers need sovereign protection.

This passage mainly discusses the image and line statements of the Li hexagram in the Book of Changes. Li represents fire, brightness, and attachment.

It first addresses human relationships: if people treat one another with simple gifts and modest courtesy, neither side will ultimately blame the other. This describes the relationship between the fourth and fifth lines. As Li Zisi observed, the top line rests upon five yang lines, like a person trapped in prison, bound hand and foot, with thorns beneath their feet. Sima Guang (Junshi) likened an unceasing stream that eventually becomes a great river to the way continual study can make someone a worthy person. Thus, a noble person should preserve their virtue and keep learning how to educate others.

The judgment of the Li hexagram, formed by two Li trigrams placed one above the other, says: “Perseverance in the right path brings success. Raising a cow is auspicious.” The explanation of the image says: “Li means attachment. The sun and moon are attached to the sky, and plants and trees are attached to the earth. When brightness upon brightness is attached to the right path, it can transform the world. Gentle attachment to the centered and upright way brings success; therefore, raising a cow is auspicious.”

The Great Image says: “Brightness continues to shine. A great person uses this brightness to illuminate the four quarters.”

The lines are interpreted as follows:

The first nine: “Footsteps are confused, but one remains reverent; there is no misfortune.” Reverence can avert misfortune.

The second six: “Yellow attachment”—that is, remaining centered and upright—is greatly auspicious because it accords with the middle way.

The third nine: “The sun is sinking in the west. One does not strike a clay vessel and sing; an old person sighs. This is perilous.” The light of the setting sun cannot last long.

The fourth nine: “It comes suddenly, like a fire, like death, like abandonment.” It comes so suddenly that there is nowhere to find shelter.

The fifth six: “Tears flow, and there are sorrowful sighs, yet it is auspicious.” The fifth line’s auspiciousness lies in its attachment to the ruler and lords.

The top nine: “The king goes forth on campaign, takes the enemy’s heads, and captures those who are not of his own kind; there is no misfortune.” The king’s campaign is undertaken to set the state in order.

Finally, Fang Shihua explains: Li means attachment; through attachment, there is brightness. The sun and moon are attached to the sky, and plants and trees to the earth. This is an image of brightness upon brightness attached to the right path. Why is the Li hexagram favorable for holding to what is right? Its image is civilized and yielding, and it is attached to the centered and upright positions of the second and fifth lines. At such a time, darkness is illuminated, and all things find their proper place. People live in peace, farm and eat, and dig wells for water. What more is needed? Simply raising a cow is auspicious. The three lines of the lower trigram represent the morning in the first line, midday in the second, and, in the third, the old age of the setting sun, as one bids farewell to the departed.

The Yi Yin Shangxia Jing passage primarily discusses the brevity of human life and the importance of cherishing time to enjoy life while also expounding on the principles of cosmic resonance and the relationship between rulers and subjects.

Human life is like the morning hours that determine the course of the day—opening the door to a new beginning. Each person should approach their duties with caution, just as one walks carefully to avoid missteps. If one can grasp the Middle Way (Zhongyong), it will bring auspiciousness like the golden glow of dusk, a time of radiant clarity. But if this moment is missed, it will be like the setting sun—unable to endure. If one fails to strike the earthenware drum (an ancient musical instrument) and sing in joy while there is still time, in old age and frailty, one can only sigh in regret—a sign of impending misfortune. Thus, one must seize the present moment to enjoy life, not out of a fear of death, but to cherish the twilight years and savor existence.

The passage then turns to the hexagram imagery: the upper trigram (referring to Li, the Fire trigram) shows the fourth, fifth, and top lines cooperating to extend brightness. The Nine in the Fourth line symbolizes the sun at its zenith, where shadows naturally disperse—yet this is fleeting, and sudden calamity may strike like fire, death, or abandonment, leaving no place to hide. This is not something we actively discard. The Fifth line states that if, unfortunately, there are tyrants like Youmiao or Gebo who bring suffering to the people, the people, after enduring hardship, will resent the great state and flee. How could a benevolent ruler not be deeply concerned and urgently seek to save them? Thus, the Top Nine line shows a military campaign achieving success—eliminating the chief evildoers and capturing the remnants—all because they were not of our kind, and this was done out of necessity. When enlightened rulers and ministers act in this way, it is as auspicious as nurturing a gentle cow (symbolizing docile virtue), and this is indeed true.

The appendix lists the sequence of hexagrams in the lower part of the Yijing: Xian (Resonance), Heng (Constancy), Dun (Withdrawal), Dazhuang (Great Strength), Jin (Advance), Mingyi (Darkening of the Light), Jiaren (Family), Kui (Opposition), Jian (Obstruction), Xie (Release), Sun (Diminution), Yi (Increase), Guai (Breakthrough), Gou (Encounter), Cui (Gathering), Sheng (Ascent), Kun (Distress), Jing (The Well), Ge (Revolution), Ding (The Cauldron), Zhen (Shock), Gen (Restraint), Jian (Gradual Progress), Guimei (The Marrying Maiden), Feng (Abundance), Lü (The Wanderer), Xun (Gentleness), Dui (Joy), Huan (Dispersion), Jie (Limitation), Zhongfu (Inner Truth), Xiaoguo (Small Exceeding), Jiji (After Completion), and Weiji (Before Completion).

Finally, the Xian hexagram (Gen below, Dui above) is explained: Xian symbolizes resonance, bringing smooth progress and favoring steadfast correctness; taking a wife in this context is auspicious. The Tuanzhuan (Commentary on the Judgments) states: Xian means resonance—the yielding above and the firm below, where the two energies of Yin and Yang interact and unite. Resting in joy, the man humbly seeks the woman, hence the smooth progress and auspiciousness in marriage. Heaven and Earth resonate, and all things are transformed and nurtured; the sage moves people's hearts, bringing peace to the world.

This scripture elucidates the principle of the "Xian Hexagram" (symbolizing resonance) from the Book of Changes. Composed of the Gen trigram representing the mountain and the Dui trigram representing the marsh, the Xian Hexagram reveals the natural law of mutual resonance among all things.

The text begins by noting that observing the phenomena of resonance between heaven and earth allows one to comprehend the principles of universal harmony. The image of a marsh atop a mountain symbolizes how the noble person should embrace others with an open and receptive mind, like a valley.

It then uses the human body as a metaphor for the process of resonance: The initial six yin line (at the bottom) describes resonance beginning at the big toe, representing the outward movement of intention. The second six yin line speaks of resonance reaching the calf—though seemingly ominous, remaining still brings good fortune. The third nine yang line warns that when resonance reaches the thigh, blindly following others leads to regret. The fourth nine yang line states that when resonance reaches the heart, maintaining upright mindfulness dispels remorse. The fifth nine yang line describes resonance extending to the back, where no regret arises. The top six yin line cautions that when resonance reaches the cheeks and tongue, it may devolve into empty words.

A key emphasis is placed on resonance as a natural law between heaven and earth. Just as the movement of the big toe affects the calf and thigh, the heart (corresponding to the fourth nine yang line), though seemingly unmoving, must maintain steadfast mindfulness. The true noble person understands how to prevent potential remorse in resonance but does not reject it out of fear. If resonance goes unanswered, inner turmoil arises—proof that its power is both profound and righteous.

Finally, the resonance of the back (corresponding to the fifth nine yang line), though subtle, is undeniably present. The hexagram as a whole teaches that resonance progresses step by step, from foot to head, with each part having its unique characteristics that must be properly understood and addressed.

This passage primarily discusses the difference between “resonance” and “following movement,” emphasizing that genuine action should arise from inner resonance rather than from blindly following others.

The text uses parts of the body as a metaphor: by observing the movement of the cheeks, one can understand the intentions of the five internal organs. If there is no genuine inner resonance, why expend so much effort speaking? True resonance needs no words, just as all things in Heaven and Earth move naturally. If this resonance were lost, movement throughout the world would cease.

The text says that the movement of the toes in the first line, the initial stage, is genuine resonance. The movement of the calf in the second line, the second stage, merely follows the first line; it is not genuine resonance, which is why King Wen of Zhou disapproved of it. Confucius, however, held that although the second line appears to follow the first, it may also have its own resonance. Blindly following brings danger, while maintaining an independent resonance allows one to accord with nature without harm.

The third line is the true blind follower. The text describes it as “also having no position of its own”: when others move, it moves along, without any resonance arising from within itself. Genuine resonance arises naturally and without deliberation. Going along with the current, by contrast, is as lowly as a servant obeying orders; it is not the bearing expected of a person of true stature.

The sage values resonance that arises from within and does not encourage blind following. Resonance originates in oneself, whereas following comes from others. If resonance brings no response, it loses its meaning. Genuine resonance and response occur together, as Yin and Yang Qi naturally resonate with and answer one another, like the Qi connecting mountain and lake. This is the proper way of resonance.

Finally, the text points out that resonance begins in the heart, and response also arises from within. When the heart resonates, the lower body moves the feet and the upper body moves the mouth. If the first line resonates and moves the toes, but the fourth line, which represents the heart, does not respond, this makes no sense. The sage therefore concludes that genuine resonance must be accompanied by a corresponding response.

Note: “Line” refers to one of the six positions in a hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing), counted from the bottom upward: first, second, third, fourth, fifth, and top line. “King Wen” refers to King Wen of Zhou, traditionally considered one of the principal authors of the Book of Changes.

This passage elucidates the principle of mutual resonance between the human heart and external phenomena through the Xian hexagram (symbolizing resonance) from the Book of Changes. Using bodily metaphors: when the heart (represented by the back muscles) generates thoughts, though the inner activity remains invisible, it inevitably manifests through speech (represented by the Dui trigram symbolizing the mouth). Just as when one feels moved, the toes (represented by the Gen trigram symbolizing stillness) will involuntarily twitch—even if one attempts to feign composure, it proves impossible.

The author marvels that the transformations of heaven and earth and the peace of the world all arise from such natural resonance. Even sages cannot defy this principle, yet ordinary people try to deceive others by falsifying emotions. The primary tenet of genuine learning lies in not deceiving oneself—to face one's true intentions with honesty. When the heart-mind becomes sincere, the heart naturally rectifies itself, and body-mind cultivation naturally reaches completion. Thus, families, states, and the world can be properly governed.

Supplementary explanations from scholars:

Su Shi compares it to a man humbly courting a woman—only sincerity yields true union. Genuine feeling resembles clouds following dragons or wind trailing tigers, leaving no room for pretense.

Zhu Xi interprets the Xian hexagram as resonance, where the Gen trigram (stillness) focuses the resonance and the Dui trigram (joy) ensures proper response. The young man (Gen) actively pursuing the maiden (Dui) aligns with the proper way of male-female interaction.

Yang Jian views resonance and joy as inseparable—like still water naturally reflecting all things. Though heaven and earth appear quiescent, they constantly resonate with each other.

Mu Bozai emphasizes that without resonance, communication cannot exist. This principle of resonance applies not only to human relationships but constitutes the fundamental pattern of cosmic operation.

This passage is mainly about the relationship between the way Heaven and Earth and all things operate and the responses of the human heart. It can be understood in several parts.

The growth and development of all things under Heaven and Earth rests on the natural principle of “response.” Just as a sage can move others through sincerity, bringing harmony and peace to the world, observing this kind of response allows us to understand the nature of all things. That nature is the true mechanism by which Heaven and Earth and all things operate; without response, it cannot become manifest.

The Upper Canon of the Book of Changes (Yijing) begins with the Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) trigrams, which symbolize Heaven and Earth taking their places. The Lower Canon begins with Xian (Mountain and Lake exchanging their Qi) and Heng (Thunder and Wind pressing against one another), which symbolize the interaction of Yin and Yang. Distinct positions require separation, so Heaven and Earth form two trigrams; Qi needs to mingle, so Mountain and Lake combine in one. The Xian hexagram, with Gen below and Dui above, represents a young man and a young woman responding to one another. Since this is the most intense form of response, the hexagram opens the Lower Canon.

The ancients believed that the heart is connected to the spine, or lu (the spinal column), and is the center that governs mental activity. The eyes must be kept empty to see the full range of colors clearly, and the ears must be kept empty to hear the full range of sounds clearly. In the same way, the mind must remain empty to receive the beauty of the world. If it is filled with fixed opinions, it becomes like a blocked passage that cannot adapt.

True response is “response without a deliberate mind”: the inner state remains empty and free of self-interest. This does not mean having no thoughts at all, but thinking in accord with nature—like thinking throughout the day while seeming not to think deliberately. It is like the myriad things under Heaven taking different paths yet ultimately returning to the same truth. Scholars today often cling to particular methods and forget the root; absorbed in deliberation, they lose sight of its source. Their response then becomes contrived and artificial, rather than following the natural Dao.

Note: The Xian hexagram is one of the sixty-four hexagrams in the Book of Changes and symbolizes response. Lu refers to the spine. “Response without a deliberate mind” is an important Daoist concept, describing a state of response that is unforced and arises naturally.

The Heng Hexagram (Wind below Thunder above, symbolizing wind following thunder) in the Book of Changes (Yijing) speaks of the Dao of perseverance. The hexagram statement says: Maintaining constancy brings smooth progress without calamity; it is favorable to hold fast to the correct path and also beneficial to take action.

The Tuanzhuan (Commentary on the Judgment) explains: "Heng" means long-lasting. The upper trigram Zhen (Thunder) belongs to the firm and strong (Yang), while the lower trigram Xun (Wind) belongs to the yielding and gentle (Yin). Thunder and wind complement each other. When Yin and Yang resonate, constancy is achieved, hence smooth progress without calamity. The movement of Heaven and Earth follows an unchanging principle. The sun and moon rely on the Dao of Heaven to shine eternally, and the shifting of the four seasons brings all things to fruition. When sages persistently practice the correct path, they can transform the world. By observing the principle of constancy, one can comprehend the essence of all things in Heaven and Earth.

The Xiangzhuan (Commentary on the Images) states: The image of wind following thunder represents the Heng Hexagram. The noble person, recognizing this, understands the need to hold fast to the correct path.

Detailed interpretations of each line:

First Six (Yin at the bottom): Seeking excessive constancy from the very beginning brings misfortune, with no benefit. It is like digging a well—trying to go too deep too soon invites trouble.

Nine Two (Yang in the second position): Regrets vanish. Because it occupies the central position (indicating balance), it can maintain the Middle Way persistently.

Nine Three (Yang in the third position): Failing to uphold constancy in virtue may bring disgrace. Like someone impatient and erratic, even friends will find them intolerable.

Nine Four (Yang in the fourth position): Hunting yields no catch. Because it remains in an unsuitable position for too long, how could it achieve anything?

Six Five (Yin in the fifth position): For a woman, constancy in chastity brings good fortune, but for a man, it brings misfortune. A woman should remain steadfast to one principle, while a man must adapt to circumstances—being as rigid as a woman would be unwise.

Top Six (Yin at the top): Shaking the foundation of constancy inevitably leads to misfortune. Occupying a high position yet wavering in fundamentals ensures fruitless effort.

Fang Shihua (a Ming Dynasty scholar of the Yijing) adds: "Heng" means perseverance. Since it is about endurance, one should follow nature’s course rather than force it. The First Six line is at the beginning of the Xun (Wind) trigram—seeking depth too eagerly is counterproductive. True constancy lies in maintaining the Middle Way, as seen in the Nine Two line. Nine Three is overly firm and off-center, eventually losing virtue due to impatience. Nine Four is in the wrong place yet seeks gain—naturally, it achieves nothing.

This scripture explores the profound meaning of "constancy" (heng, persistence and stability). Confucius said that even when seeking prey (metaphor for pursuing goals), one must follow the correct method. If one forcibly pursues without occupying the proper position (the central place), even prolonged effort will be futile. The Zhen trigram symbolizes the great road, while the Xun trigram represents birds. The sixth line in the fifth position, with yin occupying a yang place, maintains constant virtue yet still encounters misfortune—this is because it understands constancy but not why constancy is necessary. The topmost line, positioned at the end of the Zhen trigram, believes that shaking things up will achieve merit, unaware that this is futile because it understands movement but not that constancy cannot be forced.

The Dao of constancy is difficult to articulate: one must maintain constancy yet not deliberately pursue it; it seems unattainable, yet one must not abandon it; it cannot be forced, nor can it be scrutinized. What, then, should be done? Only by ceaselessly maintaining perseverance.

In the appendix, Yang Jian notes: When above and below are not in harmony, constancy cannot endure. Thunder and wind always act in concert; the Xun trigram (wind) does not conflict with Zhen's movement—only when all six lines, firm and yielding, respond to one another can constancy be achieved. Observe what is constantly maintained, and you perceive what is sensed; what is constantly maintained is what is felt, and thus the truth of heaven, earth, and all things becomes clear. If one separates feeling from constancy, one understands neither constancy nor resonance. Just as violent storms do not last all day, this impermanence is merely superficial, while the source of wind and rain is constant. Sounds and movements may seem inconstant, but their origin is never inconstant. Understanding this principle reveals that all changes are, in essence, constant. Terms like "constancy" (heng), "resonance" (xian), "change" (yi), and "Dao" are all provisional labels—the principles of heaven, earth, all things, and the sixty-four hexagrams are all like this.

Jin Rubai adds: Persisting without attaining the proper position (i.e., failing to align with the central Dao) does not refer to the issue of yang lines occupying yin positions. For example, the third line, with yang in a yang place, is also unfavorable, whereas the second line, centered, can eliminate regret.

Wang Bi (style name Fusi) explained: Stillness governs agitation, and stability is the foundation of movement. Stability is therefore the proper state of those in a superior position, while maintaining stillness is the way to endure. If one occupies the highest place in a hexagram yet reaches the extreme of violent change, and treats that as normal, nothing can be accomplished.

Yang Jian offered a further explanation: “Zhen” means turbulence. If one remains unsettled and turbulent at the final stage, never attaining a state of pure focus, one will accomplish nothing and head toward danger. The Sage (Confucius) worked so diligently that he forgot to eat because he feared this very outcome. Thus, at fifteen he set his heart on learning; at thirty he established himself; at forty he was no longer perplexed; at fifty he understood Heaven’s Mandate; at sixty he could take in all kinds of views; and at seventy he could follow his heart’s desires without overstepping the rules. Only then did he achieve great things. Alas! Following this principle brings good fortune; going against it brings danger. How could one fail to take it seriously?

He also said: Thunder and wind are the most turbulent phenomena under Heaven, so they would seem unfit to represent constancy. Yet the Hexagram of Constancy uses them as its symbols. This is hard for ordinary people to understand, but the noble person sees that, in their essential nature, they have never truly changed. Confucius said that sorrow and joy transform into one another, like wind and thunder alternating; then he added: “Look with eyes wide open, and you do not see; listen with ears raised, and you do not hear.” Sorrow and joy can neither be seen nor heard. Who can deny that they have never truly changed? This unchanging essence is the foundation on which one stands. This is the state of the noble person; this is the true meaning of thunder and wind. They cannot be judged simply as movement or stillness.

Wang Shouren (style name Bo’an) said: When the noble person understands the true meaning of thunder and wind as the symbols of the Hexagram of Constancy, they can respond flexibly to the myriad changes, while the foundation on which they stand remains firmly unmoved.

(Gen below, Qian above)

The Hexagram of Retreat symbolizes withdrawing and flourishing. There is a small advantage in remaining upright.

The “Commentary on the Judgment” explains: “Withdrawing and flourishing” means that withdrawing at the proper time brings success. The firm Yang lines occupy the proper places and act in accordance with the times. “A small advantage in remaining upright” means that the soft Yin force is gradually growing. The significance of withdrawal is immense!

The “Commentary on the Images” says: A mountain rises beneath Heaven, symbolizing withdrawal. The noble person therefore keeps distance from petty people, without hating them, while maintaining dignity.

The first six line says: In withdrawing, one is left behind; this is dangerous. Do not act rashly.

The “Commentary on the Images” says: The danger of being left behind in withdrawal is avoided by not acting; then no disaster will occur.

The second six line says: Bound tightly with yellow oxhide—an image of a resolute will—no one can undo it.

The “Commentary on the Images” says: Binding with yellow oxhide means making one’s resolve firm.

The third nine line says: To withdraw while burdened by attachments brings the danger of illness. But keeping servants brings good fortune.

The “Commentary on the Images” says: The danger of withdrawing while burdened by attachments is like the exhaustion of illness. Keeping servants brings good fortune because one cannot undertake great deeds.

The fourth nine line says: Withdrawing with ease brings good fortune for the noble person and misfortune for the petty person.

This passage discusses the "Dun Hexagram" (Retreat) from the Book of Changes, which symbolizes withdrawal and seclusion, exploring how to wisely retreat under different circumstances.

The hexagram imagery reveals: The noble person understands timely withdrawal, while petty individuals cannot. The Nine in the Fifth line (a yang line in the honorable position) illustrates how virtuous retreat brings auspiciousness by maintaining upright aspirations. The Nine at the Top line (the highest yang position) shows that well-prepared withdrawal encounters no disadvantages, as all inner doubts are resolved.

The Dun Hexagram, formed by Heaven over Mountain, represents a period when yin energy gradually expands while yang energy retreats. Its essence lies in understanding timely withdrawal according to circumstances. Though the Nine in the Fifth occupies a respected position, it maintains its original interaction with the gradually rising Six in the Second line (a yin line), demonstrating the wisdom of retreating in accordance with changing times.

Truly wise individuals don't wait until petty people gain power before considering withdrawal, but maintain a retreating mindset at all times. As the Six at the Beginning states: "If one withdraws from the outset, what misfortune could there be?" Historical examples like Kou Zhun recommending Ding Wei, or Zhang Jun recommending Qin Hui, show the danger of recognizing someone's true nature only after they've gained authority—by then, retreat comes too late.

The Six in the Second line depicts the gradual rise of yin energy (symbolizing petty people), exemplified by the Tang Dynasty story of Li Linfu. He first pretended goodwill by suggesting Li Shizhi propose building an imperial mausoleum on Mount Hua to Emperor Xuanzong, then suddenly reversed his stance when the emperor showed interest, claiming Mount Hua was the emperor's destiny mountain and shouldn't be disturbed—thus framing Li Shizhi while consolidating his own position.

Through hexagram transformations and historical allusions, this scripture teaches people to assess situations wisely and withdraw when appropriate, rather than waiting until disaster strikes. True wisdom lies in maintaining a retreating mindset in ordinary times, not being forced into hasty escape.

This passage uses historical anecdotes and an analysis of the hexagrams to explain the wisdom of dealing with rulers and ministers, and of withdrawing from public life to avoid danger.

It mentions how Qin Hui of the Song dynasty used underhanded means to strip three great generals of their military commands, as though binding a person’s hands and feet with oxhide while the person remained unaware of being controlled. This introduces the importance of the “art of withdrawing from the world”—the wisdom of retreating from public life. In the Gen hexagram of the Book of Changes, which symbolizes stopping, the third line holds the central position. If it is constrained, the entire system is affected. But someone in a leadership role, such as a head of household or an official, can still keep things under control even when constrained: small tasks pose no problem, but great undertakings should not be attempted.

The fourth line corresponds to the first, symbolizing that a noble person knows when to withdraw and thereby naturally meets with good fortune; a petty person cannot entangle the noble person. If the fifth line, the ruler’s position, is held by someone wise, then even with petty people nearby—represented by the yielding force of the second line—the ruler can preserve the right course by knowing how to withdraw. Yet such enlightened rulers are rare. Throughout history, firm and upright yang energy has often been hemmed in by petty people associated with yielding yin energy.

The passage concludes with several historical examples of ways to conduct oneself: Di Renjie served Empress Wu Zetian, while Feng Dao lived in seclusion amid the turmoil of his age. Tao Hongjing declined to serve the Liang court, and Chen Tuan refused to pledge loyalty to the Song. Li Mi assisted Emperor Suzong of Tang as a commoner; Liu Bingzhong served Kublai Khan as a monk; and in the Ming dynasty, Yao Guangxiao, also a monk, helped Zhu Di seize the throne, earning the nickname “monk killer.” These examples show that whether one enters public service or withdraws, one must choose wisely in response to the circumstances.

This passage primarily explores the philosophical implications of the "Dun hexagram" (symbolizing retreat) and the "Dazhuang hexagram" (symbolizing great strength) from the Book of Changes.

Regarding the Dun hexagram, the text explains: When Yin energy gradually strengthens (symbolizing the rise of petty individuals) while Yang energy (representing noble persons) has not yet been completely suppressed, the noble person's choice to retreat does not signify abandoning responsibilities. Rather, it aligns with the natural movement of the Dao. This conscious withdrawal represents active disengagement—appearing indifferent yet profoundly strategic, adaptable to circumstances while maintaining unwavering principles, as immovable as a mountain. To petty minds, such noble persons appear simultaneously distant yet dignified.

Supplementary commentaries from various scholars add:

• Su Shi posits that noble persons retreat during Yin's ascendancy to preserve strength for future opportunities.
• Jiao Hong's textual research suggests the character "fei" (fat) was originally a scribal error for "fei" (fly), metaphorically implying retreat resembles birds taking flight.
• Wang Ji emphasizes that noble persons facing petty individuals should maintain "non-hostility yet sternness"—courteous speech with upright conduct, gentle demeanor with resolute spirit, leaving no openings for exploitation.

Concerning the Dazhuang hexagram (comprising Qian below and Zhen above), it is interpreted as:

"Great strength" signifies the powerful maintaining a union of firmness (gang) and action (dong). True greatness must uphold proper alignment (li zhen), for such is the Dao of heaven and earth—both vast and upright. The hexagram image resembles thunder resounding across the sky, warning noble persons against transgressing ritual propriety.

The line statements advise:

First Yang line: Mere toe strength (symbolizing reckless advance) leads to hardship.

Second Yang line: Maintaining the central path (yi zhong) brings auspiciousness.

These teachings embody Daoist wisdom for navigating existence: knowing when to retreat during adversity while adhering steadfastly to principle during strength, emphasizing the unity of inner fortitude and outer flexibility.

This passage comes from the “Great Strength” hexagram (Da Zhuang, Thunder over Heaven) in the Book of Changes. It mainly discusses how to use strength properly.

The line text for Nine in the Third Place says: A petty person—someone lacking virtue—uses brute force recklessly, while a noble person—someone cultivated—knows how to judge the circumstances. Persisting in forceful action is like a ram butting a fence with its horns: it only gets its horns stuck. The image of the ram striking the fence illustrates the outcome of acting blindly.

The line text for Nine in the Fourth Place says: Holding to the right path brings good fortune and leaves no cause for regret. It is like a gap opening in the fence, so the ram’s horns are no longer caught; the axle of the great cart is also sturdy, allowing it to move forward with confidence. This means that when strength is used appropriately, obstacles can be overcome.

The line text for Six in the Fifth Place says: Losing the sheep on level ground brings no regret. This is because the loss results from being in an unsuitable position.

The line text for Six at the Top says: A ram butts the fence and can neither retreat nor advance; nothing is gained. But if one can endure hardship, good fortune will eventually follow. This means that when caught between advancing and retreating, holding to the right path can turn danger into safety.

Fang Shihua’s interpretation points out that in this hexagram, only Nine in the Fourth Place is firm and active, so its action brings good fortune. True “Great Strength”—a state of power—must rest on the right path. Initial Nine is too low in position and should not act hastily. Although Nine in the Third Place is near the Zhen trigram, which symbolizes action, obstacles still lie ahead, so it must not act recklessly. When a noble person is at the height of their strength, they should know what is right: they may be powerful, but must not misuse their power. As Emperor Wen of Han lamented, when the time is not right, even talent can be difficult to put to use.

The central teaching of this passage is that strength must be used in the right place and at the right time; acting blindly only defeats its own purpose. A noble person should know how to judge the circumstances, rather than behaving like a petty person who knows only how to throw their weight around.

This scripture expounds wisdom on governance and personal conduct. Emperor Wen of Han (the fifth emperor of the Western Han Dynasty) was a ruler of gentle moderation who governed his people with an approachable manner and administered the state through lenient, simplified policies. Just as a powerful ram cannot display its might on level ground, this soft approach to governance can resolve many conflicts—even if it appears to sacrifice certain advantages (losing the ram), there is no true regret.

The scripture employs the metaphor of "a ram butting against a fence" to illustrate that during times of great strength (symbolized by the Dazhuang hexagram), if one insists on brute force, it is like a ram stubbornly charging at a barrier, leaving itself trapped in a dilemma. A true sage should emulate how King Tang of Shang appointed Yi Yin—though initially met with skepticism (some doubted Yi Yin for having once worked as a cook), he ultimately recognized genuine talent.

The author critiques Emperor Wen for his benevolence yet failure to fully utilize capable figures like Li Guang and Jia Yi, emphasizing that rulers should cherish talent as the ancients did—like the Duke of Zhou, who would "spit out his food and clutch his hair" (interrupting meals and grooming to receive worthy scholars). The text concludes by stressing that during prosperous times, one must remain rooted in the right path (Dao) and widely open avenues for the virtuous—this is the supreme principle of cosmic operation.

In the appendix, commentaries by Su Shi and Yang Jian note that true "great strength" (Dazhuang) must be founded on the right path, just as the height of Yang energy in the four seasons (the zenith of the four Yang phases) represents the fundamental principle of heaven and earth.

This passage comes from the Yi Yin Shangxia Jing, primarily explaining the symbolism and line interpretations of the "Jin" hexagram (Fire over Earth) from the Book of Changes.

"Jin" signifies advancement and ascension, much like the sun rising above the earth (with the Li trigram above representing fire and the sun, and the Kun trigram below representing earth). The hexagram imagery shows brightness appearing over the land, symbolizing how the noble person should manifest their luminous virtue.

The text interprets each line position to illustrate different circumstances:

The bottommost first six (yin) line, though hindered in progress, will find auspiciousness if it maintains correctness. The second six line, despite worries during advancement, receives great blessings ("Jie Fu") from the grandmother (referring to the fifth line) by adhering to centrality and correctness. The third six line, gaining the trust of the multitude, naturally dissolves regret.

The fourth nine (yang) line resembles a timid mole rat; its improper position invites danger. The fifth six line, occupying the central and honored position, harmonizes the strong yang energies with its yielding virtue—without needing to calculate gains or losses, moving forward ensures good fortune. The topmost nine line attacks a city with horns; though the process is arduous, the outcome is blameless, though the method lacks full radiance.

Particular emphasis is placed on the fifth six line: though yielding, it resides at the center of the Li trigram (symbolizing brightness) in the most revered position, capable of pacifying vigorous yang forces with gentle and harmonious virtue. Like the "Marquis of Kang" (a stabilizing noble) honored by the Son of Heaven with numerous chariots and horses, receiving three royal audiences in a single day—this stems from the yielding ascending upward, aligning with the great luminous Dao.

Note: Here, "mole rat" refers to a field mouse, symbolizing timidity and suspicion; "Jie Fu" means great blessings; "Wang Mu" (royal mother) in the line imagery refers to the fifth line. These interpretations embody the Book of Changes philosophy of the yielding overcoming the firm and the radiant display of virtuous light.

This passage employs the hexagram Jin (Advancement) from the Yijing (Book of Changes) to elucidate the principles of advancement and retreat for rulers and ministers in varying circumstances.

The sixth line in the fifth position (a yin line occupying a yang position) represents a sovereign who governs through civilized gentleness, possessing magnanimous tolerance. Such a ruler resembles the sun illuminating all things, showing leniency toward the gains and losses of feudal lords without calculation. Consequently, ministers submit with sincere hearts, ensuring auspicious and smooth affairs. Although a yin line in a yang position would normally bring regret, its placement within the Li trigram (symbolizing brightness) ensures virtuous conduct shines forth, compelling subordinates to obey—thus dispelling regret.

The initial six (the bottom yin line) finds itself in the early stage of advancement. Though aspiring to progress, it appears restrained—an embodiment of ultimate humility and gentleness. While lacking correspondence with the nine in the fourth position (a yang line), maintaining steadfast correctness ensures no misfortune. The six in the second position (a yin line in the central place of the lower trigram) occupies a place where advancement is fitting, yet feels no joy in promotion, manifesting outward gentleness and inner emptiness. This state attracts great blessings from the "royal mother" (referring to the sovereign represented by the six in the fifth position).

The six in the third position (a yin line at the top of the lower trigram) advances alongside the multitude. Though its aspirations rise upward, it must avoid rashness, acting only with collective approval—otherwise, regret may follow. These three yin lines (initial six, six in the second, and six in the third) represent compliant and dutiful feudal lords whom the sovereign deems trustworthy; their undertakings will invariably prove auspicious.

Only the nine in the fourth position (a yang line in a yin position) is misplaced—seeking advancement through forceful means like a field mouse active at night but shrinking from daylight, having forfeited its own luminous virtue. Yet in the sovereign's eyes, even such errors warrant no reproach, as opportunities remain. However, lacking the capacity for daylight movement, how can conventional advancement be expected?

Through these symbolic line interpretations, the passage illustrates appropriate conduct across situations: rulers should illuminate others with radiance and tolerance, while ministers must advance timely while maintaining their proper roles. The forceful risk losing position, whereas the gentle ultimately receive blessings.

This passage explores the profound meaning of the top line (Shangjiu) in the Jin hexagram (symbolizing advancement and illumination) from the Book of Changes. The uppermost line of Jin, being excessively rigid, seeks to establish merit through conquering neighboring territories, unaware of the inherent danger in such actions. While superficially appearing as a justifiable "love of gain and aversion to loss" that may bring temporary good fortune and freedom from calamity—seemingly aligned with the proper Dao—it ultimately leads to regret.

The historical context reveals a ruler indifferent to personal gain and trusted ministers deeply concerned for the nation's welfare, with the state enjoying peace and prosperity. In such harmonious relations between sovereign and subjects, there was no need for military displays. Just as in times of abundant harvests and full treasuries, there was no call for strategies like the "Three Demonstrations and Five Lures" (Han Dynasty appeasement policies toward the Xiongnu). If no injustices plagued the land, a single upright official like Chief Justice Zhang Shizhi would suffice—why fret over petty opportunists as useless as flying squirrels?

Thus, the approach of "resorting only to conquering towns" reflects insufficient moral clarity in one's De (Virtue). A truly enlightened era, symbolized by the Jin hexagram’s radiant sunlight, should emulate King Wen’s golden age—where "horses were bestowed in abundance, and worthy ministers received three daily audiences." When light shines upon the earth, it manifests as Jin; when concealed beneath, it transforms into Mingyi (the hexagram of "Brightness Wounded")—what a lamentable shift!

Appendix: Term Explanations

• "Queen Mother" refers to the emperor’s mother.
• The "flying squirrel" is a creature with five mediocre skills (it can fly but not over rooftops, climb but not to treetops, swim but not across streams, burrow but not conceal itself, and run but not outpace humans)—symbolizing superficial jack-of-all-trades.
• This differs from the "giant rat" (shuo shu) mentioned in the Book of Songs.

Through analyzing Jin’s top line, this text admonishes against military force in prosperous times, advocating rule by De (Virtue), while satirizing those as incompetent as flying squirrels—all show with no substance.

The “Advance” (Jin) and “Darkening of the Light” (Mingyi) hexagrams in the Yijing describe two ways of navigating life.

When you are on the rise, as in the Advance hexagram, act like the sun at dawn: remain modest and low-key. A truly wise person knows that promotion is no cause for self-satisfaction; it calls instead for caution. The story of a minister receiving repeated audiences with the ruler (the allusion to “a team of horses presented three times”) illustrates that he was valued because he could hold to the Middle Way. The Queen Mother—here representing the virtue of yielding yet remaining centered and upright—and the fifth line, six in the fifth place, both embody this gentle wisdom of keeping to the center. Cheng Yi explains that advancement means following the Way of light, and that following an enlightened ruler is a shared aspiration. Wang Ji extends the image: the rising sun symbolizes advance, but the sun’s own light has never increased or diminished; it is only a matter of whether that light is obscured. From this, the noble person understands that human nature is inherently bright and must be brought forth by “making one’s bright virtue manifest.” All cultivation is inner work and does not depend on external forces.

When you are in hardship, as in the Darkening of the Light hexagram—with Earth above and Fire below—it is like the sun sinking beneath the earth, its brightness obscured. At such a time, be outwardly yielding but inwardly strong, as King Wen was while imprisoned, or conceal your wisdom, as Jizi, the worthy minister of the Shang dynasty, did by feigning madness to avoid disaster. The first line, nine in the first place, describes an injured bird flying with drooping wings; the noble person goes out and does not eat for three days. This image represents holding to one’s principles in adversity. The second line, six in the second place, says that an injured left thigh receives the help of a strong horse and brings good fortune, showing that adapting to circumstances can turn danger aside. The third line, nine in the third place, tells of a great catch while hunting in the south, but warns against haste; it points to the importance of seizing the right moment in adversity. The fourth line, six in the fourth place, describes entering the other side to learn what is really happening. The fifth line, six in the fifth place, takes Jizi as its example of remaining steadfast in what is right. Both lines emphasize preserving the light amid darkness. The top line, six in the sixth place, uses the image of the sun first rising into the sky and then falling beneath the earth to warn that when one loses the guiding principles, prosperity gives way to decline.

The central message is this: stay clear-minded in favorable times, and hold fast to the light in adversity. As the image of Fire beneath Earth in the Darkening of the Light hexagram shows, the light may be temporarily buried beneath the earth, but it will never be extinguished.

This passage explains the story of King Wen of Zhou concealing his brilliance and biding his time under the tyranny of King Zhou of Shang, through the line texts of the Hexagram Mingyi in the Book of Changes. Mingyi symbolizes a dark period when light is obscured, like the sun rising into the sky and then sinking beneath the earth. Though King Zhou was forceful and decisive, he fell into darkness because he violated the Dao of Heaven.

The passage uses King Wen’s imprisonment at Youli, a Shang dynasty prison, as an example. The first nine describes his plight when he had just been imprisoned: like a bird with drooping wings, he went three days without food, and could only accept his fate when faced with the jailers’ accusations. The six in the second place tells how his left leg was injured and needed urgent treatment, like escaping danger swiftly on a strong horse; this accorded with Heaven’s will and the people’s wishes. The nine in the third place says that his worthy ministers, after hunting in the south, presented important game to King Zhou as one might offer a great beast to a ruler. It seemed like an attempt to curry favor, but was really a strategy for survival.

By the six in the fourth place, King Wen had gradually won King Zhou’s trust through patience and restraint, like the sun rising above the horizon again; at last, he left Youli. His experience shows that even sages can be wounded when they encounter darkness, but the wisdom of “holding to what is right amid hardship” can ultimately move a tyrant and bring light back into view. The six in the fifth place sums up how King Wen survived his ordeal by “keeping clarity within and showing gentleness outwardly.” This wisdom of keeping one’s strengths hidden is the heart of Mingyi’s teaching: “It is beneficial to remain steadfast in hardship.”

This scripture passage recounts how Ji Zi, a virtuous minister of the Shang Dynasty (uncle of the tyrannical King Zhou), preserved his wisdom through the "Ming Yi" (Brightness Hidden) principle during politically dark times.

Facing the oppressive rule of King Zhou, Ji Zi feigned madness to avoid persecution—outwardly appearing foolish while maintaining inner clarity. Like the "Ming Yi" hexagram in the Yijing (Book of Changes, with Li ☲ below and Kun ☷ above, symbolizing light entering the earth), true wisdom often shines brightest in darkness. Such wisdom is not transient but eternally enduring.

The text describes two types of adversity: external calamities (national crises), which can still be resolved, and internal calamities (family crises), which leave one trapped between impossible choices. Ji Zi faced precisely this inescapable internal adversity, prompting him to adopt the "Ming Yi" path—concealing his wisdom without abandoning his inner principles.

Through Ji Zi's example, the author illustrates that just as heaven and earth alternate between day and night, sages must adapt their conduct to the times. True wisdom does not lie in rigid opposition but, like Ji Zi, in "inner clarity and outer gentleness" (nei wenming er wai roushun), maintaining inner radiance while outwardly conforming to circumstances. This state, seemingly simple, reaches such profound refinement that even sage-kings like King Wen of Zhou marveled at it.

The appended commentary by Wang Ji further clarifies: When governing the people, a noble person should not be overly shrewd. Just as the dangling jade beads (chui liu) and yellow silk tassels (tou kuang) on ancient emperors' crowns obscured their vision, strategic "feigned ignorance" often aids governance. As the saying goes, "Water too clear breeds no fish" (shui zhi qing ze wu yu), for excessive scrutiny portends misfortune.

The concluding quotation from the Jiaren (Family) hexagram shifts to familial ethics: harmony arises when men and women abide in their proper roles (women managing domestic affairs, men external ones), with parents acting as stern yet benevolent rulers. Though seemingly unrelated, this subtly mirrors Ji Zi's adherence to his dual roles as both subject and kinsman amid the intersecting crises of "state" and "family."

This passage discusses the relationship between family ethics and governance. The core message is: when fathers fulfill their paternal duties, sons their filial responsibilities, brothers maintain harmony, and spouses each uphold their proper roles, the family will naturally follow the right path. When families are well-ordered, the world will naturally achieve peace.

The Xiang Zhuan (commentary on hexagram imagery) states: "Wind arises from fire" (symbolizing family relationships). The noble person should speak with substance and act with constancy.

Detailed interpretations of each line:

The initial Nine line indicates: Governing a family requires preventing problems before they arise, thus avoiding regrets. This means maintaining vigilance keeps the family way from deviating.

The second Six line shows: A woman who doesn't act arbitrarily but focuses on household duties, remaining steadfast in the proper way, will find good fortune. This emphasizes the virtues of feminine gentleness and humility.

The third Nine line warns: If the family head is excessively strict, there may be temporary good fortune but ultimately misfortune; if wives and children constantly laugh and play without discipline, it will ruin family traditions. This shows family governance should be neither too strict nor too lax.

The fourth Six line declares: Enriching the family brings great good fortune. The key lies in each member maintaining their proper position and fulfilling their respective duties.

The fifth Nine line explains: When rulers transform the world's families through virtuous influence, they need not worry and naturally achieve good fortune. This means those in high positions must lead by example.

The top Nine line concludes: Family governance requires both sincerity and dignified authority, ultimately bringing good fortune. Authority comes not from external coercion but from self-reflection and exemplary conduct.

Fang Shihua's commentary further elaborates: Judging from the hexagram imagery, the Family hexagram (Jiaren) draws its symbolism from two yin lines representing women, hence its focus on family ethics. Like the harmonious lute and zither described in the Guanju poem, sages personally embody this harmony. King Wen attributed virtue to his queen, hence the phrase "favorable for the woman's steadfastness"; Confucius credited King Wen, emphasizing "the man maintains his proper position externally." Today's spouses are tomorrow's parents; when current male-female relationships are proper, future father-son, brotherly, and marital relationships will naturally follow suit. Thus the conclusion: rectifying one family rectifies the world. Emperor Yao married his two daughters to Shun, who used them as models to ultimately bring peace to all under heaven—proving family ethics are no trivial matter.

(Note: The phrase "sent down his two daughters to the Gui River bend" refers to Emperor Yao marrying his daughters Ehuang and Nüying to Shun. "Taking the two women as models" describes how Shun used them as exemplars for family governance.)

This scripture passage primarily discusses the art of household management, emphasizing the importance of each family member maintaining their proper role. For women, adhering to the righteous path and fulfilling their inherent duties constitutes the highest virtue (De). Within the family, there's no need to deliberately project an air of stern authority—when each person attends to their responsibilities, an atmosphere of natural dignity will emerge.

The text mentions that the head of the household (referred to as the "stern ruler") need not rely on harsh reprimands to establish authority. True respect arises from leading by example. Women in the family should be supportive of their husbands and devote themselves to domestic duties (symbolized by "managing the central hearth"), ensuring the household naturally prospers (bringing "great fortune to the family"). However, it also cautions that the pursuit of wealth must follow ethical principles and never violate moral standards.

Later commentaries by notable scholars provide further insight: Wang Bi (Wang Fusi) argues that household governance requires establishing proper rules from the very beginning—waiting until problems arise before enforcing strict discipline is already too late. Yang Jian (Yang Jingzhong) emphasizes preventing trouble before it starts, addressing wayward thoughts before they take root. Even sage rulers like Yao and Shun could not avoid having unworthy descendants, illustrating how completely averting family discord is inherently difficult.

The passage concludes with a quote from Xue Rengui, highlighting that inner clarity (symbolized by the Li trigram, representing brightness) and outer humility (symbolized by the Xun trigram, representing gentle compliance) naturally lead to harmonious household governance. This embodies the wisdom of balancing internal and external cultivation, as well as the interplay of firmness and flexibility in family life.

Wei Zheng (courtesy name Xuancheng), explaining the Classic of Changes, said that “yielding and compliant” means the Six in the Second position occupies its proper place and follows the will of the Nine in the Fifth. It is like a daughter obeying her father or a wife obeying her husband: one cannot simply fulfill one’s personal wishes as one pleases.

Xiong Guo (studio name Nansha), citing ancient texts, noted that the word haohuo is written as huo in Liu Xiang’s version and has the same meaning as huo huo in the Classic of Poetry—in both cases, it is an exclamation. From “Yi xi” in the “Zhou Hymns” to the exclamation here, the feeling is more intense than in huo huo: it expresses a sigh of distress, uttered when something becomes unbearable, not the sense of laughter given in traditional lexical explanations. Since the Han dynasty, scholars have interpreted haohuo as meaning the opposite. Wang Hui of the Song dynasty argued that laughter could not be intended in a hexagram composed of strong lines. This view accurately captures the essence of the hexagram: excessive hardness makes one’s wife and children sigh in distress. How could such a situation fail to be regrettable? This is entirely different from the image of majesty in the Nine at the Top.

Yu Fan (courtesy name Zhongxiang) explained that the Six in the Fourth position is correctly placed and corresponds to the Initial Nine; it follows and supports the Nine in the Fifth, governs the Nine in the Third, and corresponds to all three yang lines. Thus it can “enrich the family and bring great good fortune.” Jing Zhong added that the Six in the Fourth and the Six in the Fifth are both yielding yin lines, and both lie within the body of the Xun trigram, which symbolizes compliance. They therefore embody the utmost yielding. Compliance brings harmony, and harmony brings prosperity. As the saying goes: when ten people each have their own mind, they cannot even pool enough to buy a needle; when ten people share one mind, they have enough to buy gold.

Jin Sheng (courtesy name Rubai) observed that the Six in the Second occupies the center and is correctly placed, so it is called “yielding.” It corresponds to the Nine in the Fifth and belongs to the Xun body, so it is called “compliant,” meaning that it can join with the Nine in the Fifth through a yielding way. He then raised a question: the Six in the Fourth is a yielding, empty line, just like the Six in the Fourth of the Tai hexagram. Why, then, does Tai say “not wealthy,” while this passage says “wealthy”? The key to prosperity is that the Six in the Fourth follows and supports the Nine in the Fifth. The Nine in the Fifth occupies the centered and correct position, and the Six in the Fourth assists it with yielding compliance; in this way, the family’s wealth is preserved. Hence the phrase “yielding while in its place.”

Yang Wanli (courtesy name Tingxiu) used King Wen’s family as an example. The Nine in the Fifth has the firm virtue of Qian and occupies the centered, correct position in the Xun trigram. This resembles the Zhou royal house: King Wen as ruler, Tai Si as his consort, King Ji as his father, Tai Ren as his mother, King Wu as his son, and Yi Jiang as his daughter-in-law. How could the members of such a family fail to love one another? That is why the Classic of Poetry praises the way a person’s example influences his wife, then extends to his brothers, and ultimately brings order to the state. Confucius, too, praised King Wen as perhaps the only one who lived without worry. This is what “do not worry; good fortune” expresses.

Wang Ji analyzed the hexagram through its images: Xun is wind, and Li is fire. When fire grows strong, it produces wind; fire is the mother of wind. A noble person who observes the image “wind emerges from fire” understands that the basis of transformation and instruction—the wind—lies in the family, while the basis of family life lies in personal cultivation. The key to cultivation is consistency between words and actions. Careful speech and conduct cultivate the self, and cultivating the self brings order to the family.

This passage from the Yijing (Book of Changes) Hexagram Kui (Opposition) elucidates the principle that seemingly divergent phenomena actually contain hidden connections. The hexagram's image shows fire above and marsh below (Li trigram above, Dui trigram below), symbolizing the opposite movements of flames rising upward and marsh waters seeping downward.

The hexagram statement "auspicious for small matters" indicates smooth progress in handling daily affairs. Just as two women living together may have different aspirations (referring to both Li and Dui being yin trigrams), surface discord can achieve yin-yang balance through gentle communication ("pleasingly attached to clarity") and flexible advancement ("the yielding advances and moves upward"). Heaven and earth, male and female, all things appear opposite yet complement each other—this is the wondrous function of "Kui."

The individual line texts illustrate this principle through concrete examples:

The initial Nine line describes how lost horses return without pursuit, and encountering disagreeable people brings no harm, because proactive engagement prevents conflict. The Nine in Second line shows meeting one's lord in a narrow lane is blameless when maintaining proper conduct. The Six in Third line uses the metaphor of an oxcart being dragged, indicating initial difficulty but ultimately favorable outcomes.

The Nine in Fourth line speaks of finding kindred spirits ("primal man") in solitude—sincere interaction, though challenging, causes no harm. The Six in Fifth line describes clan intimacy ("biting through tender flesh" suggests closeness like skin contact), making actions naturally auspicious. The top Nine line employs bizarre imagery—seeing pigs covered in mud, ghosts in a carriage—to show how seemingly strange events ("not robbers but suitors") become clear when washed by rain.

Fang Shihua's commentary adds: Just as horses need pairing for long journeys, the first and fourth lines appear incompatible ("Kui"), yet the fourth line proves trustworthy to the first ("primal man"). The second and fifth lines show ruler-minister correspondence, enabling "meeting the lord in the lane," while the fifth line gains clan support. The Li trigram's hollow center symbolizes narrow lanes, demonstrating how maintaining the Middle Way proves most crucial in seemingly oppositional situations.

This passage explains the hexagram "Kui" (symbolizing divergence and contradiction) from the Book of Changes and its life lessons. The third line (Six-Three) depicts the estrangement between people caused by misunderstanding: initial suspicion creates distance, like mistaking a companion pulling a cart for dragging it, seeing an ox being led as being yanked, even imagining someone might descend from heaven to cut off one's nose. These are all illusions, akin to viewing an ox as a mud-covered pig or companions as a cartload of demons—first reaching for the bow to shoot, only to realize they've come to propose marriage.

The "Bald Elder" (likely the author's self-reference) comments: Divergence is natural, yet eventual harmony remains inevitable. But people often create divisions themselves—some perceive conflicts where none exist (as in the initial line), others who should naturally resonate create barriers (as in the second and fifth lines), while the isolated yang line (Nine-Four), lacking correspondence, risks loneliness unless encountering the "primal husband" (a virtuous man) of the initial line. When two virtuous individuals meet, shared ideals naturally foster sincere connection.

Most intriguing are the Six-Three and Top-Nine lines—a relationship that should embody yin-yang harmony becomes poisoned by suspicion, transforming the other into thieves, pigs, or demons, turning the sweet marsh of "Dui" (the hexagram symbolizing joy) into a quagmire. It's like mistaking normal cart-pulling for dragging, ox-leading for yanking, even fantasizing about nose-cutting. Most conflicts in the world stem from imagining oppositions that never existed.

This scripture primarily explores the philosophical implications of the "Kuai Hexagram" (symbolizing divergence and contradiction) from the Book of Changes. The text observes that while things may initially appear contradictory (wuchu, "no beginning"), they can ultimately achieve harmony (youzhong, "having an end"). Just as rain may seem inauspicious at first glance, it actually brings vitality. The key lies in one’s perspective: fixating on differences creates disharmony, while recognizing the underlying connections reveals eventual unity.

The text cites the fifth line of the Kuai Hexagram as an example: the yielding six in the fifth position resonates with the firm nine in the second, much like Emperor Taizu of Song visiting Zhao Pu on a snowy night, where Zhao’s wife personally poured wine and roasted meat—seemingly improper (kuai, "divergent") on the surface, yet reflecting deep mutual understanding (he, "harmony") between ruler and minister. This illustrates that even when things appear contradictory, their intrinsic connection remains—like a marsh (duize, "Lake of the Dui trigram") nourishing all things despite its lowly position, or lost horses returning on their own without forced pursuit.

The author emphasizes: we may dislike certain people, but are we ourselves flawless? We may evade mistakes, but who never errs? Thus, the first line (chu jiu) is called yuanfu ("the virtuous one") precisely because it transcends superficial contradictions. The fourth line encounters such a virtuous person, the second line—firm yet centered—meets a wise ruler in humble circumstances, and the top line, though unyielding, attains a good end. This demonstrates that strength tempered by balance is most precious.

Appended commentaries by Su Shi (Pogong) and Li Zhi (Tuweng) further clarify: forcing superficial sameness leads to substantive division, while acknowledging necessary differences fosters deeper harmony. Consider:

• Two women living together but with divergent aims will eventually part ways.
• Heaven and Earth differ in form yet jointly nurture all things.
• Men and women are distinct but share mutual understanding.
• All beings vary yet follow the same laws of growth.

This dialectical principle—"unity within difference, harmony within divergence"—is the fundamental order of the cosmos. Hence, the text concludes: "The timely function of the Kuai Hexagram is truly profound."

This passage mainly explains the meanings of the two hexagrams Kui and Jian in the Yijing (Classic of Changes).

Kui symbolizes estrangement and conflict. The passage says that “small matters are auspicious” because Yang energy is strong while Yin energy is weak, like two women who cannot travel together. Although the hexagram shows separation, that separation can ultimately bring things into cooperation. Yang Jian explains that the fourth and first lines are both Yang lines. Since the two Yang lines do not respond to each other, they appear isolated. Yet the firm and bright first line, Nine at the Beginning, represents a “worthy man.” Though the two may not recognize each other at first, once they do, they can form a sincere bond. The second and fifth lines are correspondingly positioned; if Six in the Fifth position employs Nine in the Second, its beneficence can reach throughout the realm.

Li Taifa adds that people become estranged through suspicion, and only firmness can dispel suspicion and bring them together again. Cai Jiefu, meanwhile, explains the connection between the character Kui and the character for “lane” by examining their written forms.

Jian symbolizes difficulty. Its configuration has Gen (Mountain) below and Kan (Water) above. It is favorable to advance toward the southwest, unfavorable to go northeast, and suitable to seek an audience with a person of high virtue and standing. The Explanation of the Judgment says that Jian means difficulty: danger lies ahead, and recognizing danger and stopping is wise. The southwest is favorable because one can attain the middle way; the northeast is unfavorable because the road is blocked. Seeking an audience with a person of high virtue and standing will bring achievement, while holding firmly to the right course enables one to govern the state.

The Image says that water on a mountain forms the image of Jian. A noble person should reflect on themselves and cultivate their virtue. The individual line statements explain: Six at the Beginning faces difficulty in going forward, but returning brings praise; Six in the Second position, a minister, endures hardship not for personal gain; Nine in the Third position faces difficulty going forward, but returning brings a turning point; Six in the Fourth position faces difficulty going forward, but returning brings support; Nine in the Fifth position confronts great hardship but receives help from friends; and the top line faces difficulty going forward, but returning brings great good fortune, and it is suitable to seek an audience with a noble person.

Finally, the passage explains the overall symbolism of Jian: because it is difficult for the feet to move forward, it is called “Jian.” The difficulty lies in the danger ahead. This hexagram has danger on the outside and stillness within. Stopping because progress is difficult is called “Jian”; recognizing danger and stopping is wisdom.

This passage explains the teaching of the “Jian” hexagram in the Book of Changes (Yijing), which symbolizes hardship and danger. Its general meaning is that when obstacles arise, the wise course is to stop advancing: Gen means “to stop,” and all six lines emphasize that “going forward brings difficulty.” At such a time, one should withdraw and hold one’s position rather than press ahead. Yet the hexagram also says that “the southwest is favorable” and that it is “favorable to meet a great person”—someone of eminent virtue and standing. This may seem contradictory, but the point is that although recognizing danger and stopping is wise, how could one gain the good fortune of “going forward and finding the center” and “going forward and accomplishing something” without going to meet the eminent figure in the ninth position of the fifth line? This yang line symbolizes the ruler.

The key is that the ninth line of the fifth place lies in the southwest, a safe and balanced position free of danger. This eminent figure has centered and upright virtue and can bring stability to the realm; he is precisely the person whom all should go to meet. The foolish believe the ruler is trapped in danger and can only look after himself, but the worthy person—the second line, a yin line—can see that this is the safe center. Thus all six lines say, “Going forward brings danger; returning brings good fortune.” The top line especially emphasizes the auspicious sign, using one instance to sum up the whole.

In short, charging blindly ahead will surely lead to danger, while withdrawing brings praise and prevents mistakes. Yet people do not understand that when an eminent figure like the ninth line of the fifth place faces “great difficulty,” that is all the more reason to go forward and offer help. True wisdom lies in knowing when to stop and when to proceed. The ninth line of the fifth place is firm, resolute, and centered; it can contain the danger, remaining steady within it. Such a wise ruler is someone people should turn to. The subtle teaching of the Jian hexagram is therefore the art of advancing or withdrawing at the right moment. When one begins to go forward and recognizes the difficulty, turning back in time brings praise.

This scripture primarily explains the symbolic meanings of the hexagrams "Jian" (Adversity) and "Xie" (Release) from the Book of Changes.

Regarding the Jian hexagram (symbolizing hardship): The second yin line, though a minister, does not rush to rescue the ruler—not out of cowardice, but from careful consideration that ruler and subject should face adversity together. The third yang line, as the host of the Gen trigram (symbolizing stillness), actively returns to resonate with the fifth yang line, bringing joy to all other lines through united effort. This third yang line, firm and properly positioned, represents solid reliability, making the fourth and top lines willing companions. Throughout the hexagram, five lines honor the fifth yang as the noble sovereign, while only the top yin line recognizes the third yang as the steadfast sage—their shared understanding makes approaching the sovereign effortless.

Supplementary commentaries note: Those who remain composed in danger can shoulder the world's burdens. True wisdom lies in halting at the sight of peril. With the Kan trigram (danger) ahead and Gen (obstruction) behind, the noble one learns to reflect inward and cultivate virtue (De). This resonates with Mencius' teaching: "When actions bear no fruit, one must examine oneself."

Regarding the Xie hexagram (symbolizing liberation): Movement toward the southwest brings benefit. No distant travel is needed—return brings good fortune. For those proceeding, early action proves advantageous. The Tuanzhuan explains: Danger is resolved through movement; only action brings deliverance. Southwestward movement gains popular support, while returning aligns with the Middle Way. Success comes through timely action. Just as thunder and rain erupt when heaven and earth commune—causing plants and fruits to burst forth—so too does the Xie hexagram reveal the profound significance of timing.

(Note: Kan represents water/danger; Gen represents mountain/stillness; Zhen represents thunder/action. These are fundamental symbolic meanings of the Eight Trigrams [Bagua] in the Book of Changes.)

This passage explains the hexagram imagery and line interpretations of "Thunder over Water" (Lei Shui Jie) from the Book of Changes. The "Thunder over Water" hexagram symbolizes the state of renewal after a thunderstorm, representing the resolution of difficulties.

The hexagram imagery shows: When thunder and rain converge (symbolizing the resolution of difficulties), the noble person should practice forgiveness towards others' faults and pardon transgressions.

Modern interpretations of the individual lines:

The first line (Initial Six) indicates no misfortune. This is because the balance of firm and yielding aligns with the Dao's principles.

The second line (Nine Two) describes obtaining three foxes during a hunt and receiving a yellow arrow—maintaining correctness brings good fortune. This signifies acting in accordance with the Middle Way.

The third line (Six Three) warns that carrying valuables in a carriage invites thieves—even with correct conduct, trouble arises. This is self-inflicted misfortune.

The fourth line (Nine Four) states that after releasing restraints, friends arrive with sincerity. Though the position isn't ideal, trust is gained.

The fifth line (Six Five) shows the noble person resolving difficulties with good fortune, earning even petty people's trust. When noble people solve problems, petty people naturally withdraw.

The sixth line (Top Six) depicts a duke shooting a hawk atop a high wall—capturing it brings no disadvantage. This symbolizes using force to resolve rebellion.

Fang Shihua's commentary adds: Before danger dissipates, all action is difficult—waiting brings good fortune. After resolution, one not only returns to stability (Nine Two's central position) but can act successfully. Thus the hexagram statement mentions "favorable southwest direction," indicating gaining collective support.

Note that while both "Difficulty" (Jian) and "Resolution" (Jie) hexagrams mention "favorable southwest," their meanings differ: Jian's reference points to Nine Five's position of no danger, while Jie refers to the collective resolution in lines Two, Four, and Top. Jian's "advance" actually means "retreat," whereas Jie's "advance" signifies true action.

In this hexagram, only Six Three reaches danger's extreme without support. Top Six should respond to Six Three but fails—only forceful resolution can overcome the crisis. From Initial Six's "no blame" and Nine Four's "gaining trust," we see that once Nine Four acts to escape danger and Initial Six responds, peril transforms into safety.

This passage explains the principles of the “Deliverance” hexagram in the Classic of Changes (Yijing), using the relationships between ruler and ministers, and among people, to illustrate changes in the hexagram.

When one person is the first to stir up trouble, all who follow will respond, and in the end they will suffer together. Once the crisis has passed, those who once formed factions for private gain will gather together again. This follows both from circumstances and from ordinary human nature. Thus, when firmness and yielding alternate, there is no fault as long as one acts in accordance with what is right.

In the Deliverance hexagram, the Second Nine line remains centered and still. This is the key force in resolving a crisis. Someone who can truly solve a problem is like a skilled hunter: they keep their tools out of sight and wait for the right moment to act. The Fourth Nine line marks the start of action. When caught in danger, one must not act recklessly; once one does act, one must leave the danger behind completely. So the Fourth Nine line is like a big toe beginning to move: once it moves, it cannot stop, and friends who see it will follow. Yet the Fourth Nine line merely enjoys the outcome; it is not the true force that resolves the crisis.

The Fifth Six line approaches the problem with a yielding, balanced, and upright attitude. After the crisis is resolved, it says with joy, “For the noble person, resolving the crisis brings good fortune.” This attitude can win the trust of friends and even persuade petty people. Once a noble person resolves a conflict, petty people will naturally give way. But if resentment still remains in the heart, then even if people make peace on the surface, the problem will flare up again.

The lesson of the Song dynasty offers clear proof. At first, petty people also wanted to live in harmony with noble people and preserve their wealth and status. But if noble people continued to hold grudges against them, the petty people, afraid of losing what they had, would strike back, deepening the hostility. Many calamities that seem impossible to resolve, then, begin because noble people refuse to forgive. This is a crucial principle underlying the rise and fall of order through the ages.

The Fifth Six line, occupying a position of honor—that is, the ruler’s position—with a yielding, balanced, and upright attitude, represents someone who can truly resolve conflict. Emperor Wen of Han is an example.

In the appendix, Li Dingzuo explains that the Fourth Nine line symbolizes the big toe. Xiong Nansha, meanwhile, says that the Jiujia school regarded Kan, one of the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), as symbolizing a fox; its position on the second line represents the central yellow, a Neidan term for Qi in the Dantian.

The "Sun Hexagram" (Loss) in the Book of Changes explores the dialectical relationship between decrease and increase. The hexagram image shows Dui (Lake) below and Gen (Mountain) above, symbolizing a lake eroding a mountain—a natural phenomenon representing gradual diminishment.

Its core teaching reveals that proper decrease can yield greater gains. Just as moving objects from lower to higher ground (decreasing below to increase above) follows the upward path of development, three essential principles must be observed: first, maintaining sincere faith (you fu); second, adhering to the correct path (ke zhen); and third, acting in accordance with timely circumstances (yu shi xie xing). Like using simple offerings of two bowls of rice (er gui) in rituals—what matters is performing them with proper timing and sincerity.

The six lines illustrate decrease in different contexts:

The initial yang line advises prompt action in handling affairs (yi shi chuan wang) to avoid faults. The second yang line emphasizes maintaining the Middle Way. The third yin line uses the metaphor that three travelers will lose one companion, while a solitary traveler may gain friends—showing how reduction can sometimes bring assistance. The fourth yin line describes how alleviating illness brings joy. The fifth yin line speaks of receiving heaven-sent blessings, like the invaluable "tortoise worth ten strings of shells" (shi peng zhi gui). The top yang line demonstrates that neither decreasing nor increasing ultimately wins people's support.

The conclusion emphasizes that all decrease serves greater increase. Just as weakening the strong strengthens the weak, or abstaining from ritual offerings when timing isn't right, the noble person learns to restrain anger (cheng fen) and curb desires (zhi yu), mastering the wisdom of discernment. Through natural phenomena and daily examples, this passage profoundly illustrates the truth that "loss precedes gain."

This passage explores the dialectical relationship between “Decrease” and “Increase” in the I Jing (Classic of Changes). Its central idea is that when circumstances call for increase, even Heaven, Earth, and the sages must first accept some decrease in order to bring about a true increase. Only when discussing increase in its pure form does the principle of decrease not come into play.

The passage examines the difference between the Decrease and Increase hexagrams. The Increase hexagram never mentions the word “decrease,” while the Decrease hexagram is devoted entirely to the subject. This shows that decrease must bring increase, and that genuine increase does not actually cause a loss. For example, in the Decrease hexagram, the first line advises “measuring the decrease”; the fourth says to “remove an illness”; the second and top lines both say, “Do not decrease; instead, increase.” The third line decreases firmness to benefit the weakness of the top line, but because it receives help from a friend, what appears to be a loss is in fact a gain.

The example of the Qian hexagram, representing Heaven, decreasing its three yang lines to benefit the Kun hexagram, representing Earth, illustrates this principle. When the top line of Kun receives yang energy, it becomes the Gen hexagram, representing the mountain; when Qian loses its three yang lines, it becomes the Dui hexagram, representing the lake. The fourth line is below Gen’s stillness and adjacent to Dui, so its “illness” is clear. But if the first nine can act swiftly and respond to the sixth line, the illness will naturally disappear. The illness arises from a loss of unity of purpose; restoring that unity removes it.

For the fifth line, once it receives the firm yang energy of the top line, it is like receiving the auspicious sign of a precious tortoise shell used for divination. It can obtain Heaven’s protection without anyone else’s help. The second nine, by contrast, would meet danger if it acted rashly, so it should remain centered and correct. The line that truly needs to undergo decrease is the third. Once one of the three yang lines has been decreased, the third line proceeds alone. It may seem to suffer a loss, but it may in fact receive help from a friend.

Taken as a whole, the passage reveals the subtle way “Decrease” and “Increase” transform into one another: sometimes apparent decrease is actually increase, while apparent increase may conceal a loss. The key is to grasp the right moment and observe the proper measure.

This passage elucidates the changing relationships between the hexagrams Sun (Diminishing) and Yi (Increasing) in the Book of Changes (Yijing), demonstrating how apparent loss may not signify true detriment.

Though the upper trigram (outer hexagram) loses a yang line (symbolizing diminishment), the yin line at the sixth-third position gains proper correspondence (yin and yang complementing each other). What seems like loss actually results in secure assistance. Therefore, the lines at the initial ninth and second ninth are not truly diminished, and while the sixth-third appears to suffer loss, it remains unharmed in essence. The top ninth line, though benefiting the most, is fundamentally in a state of "neither diminishing nor increasing."

The text particularly emphasizes the relationship between the initial ninth and sixth-fourth lines: In the initial stage of the Tai hexagram (symbolizing prosperity), the sixth-fourth yin line originally corresponds with the initial ninth yang line. When the Sun hexagram forms, the third ninth yang line ascends to become the top ninth, leaving the sixth-fourth without its original counterpart—like a person suddenly afflicted by illness. Fortunately, the initial ninth does not forget its old bond and actively moves to assist, causing the sixth-fourth's "illness" to naturally dissipate. This explains why the Sun hexagram's initial ninth line states, "Hasten to go, and there will be joy."

Fang Shihua adds: The essence of "diminishing below to benefit above" lies in the yang line ascending, a transformation that aligns with the Dao of heaven. Though it appears as loss, it inherently contains sincerity, hence the hexagram statement declares, "Supreme good fortune, no blame." Lu Bozai further elaborates: Using two modest food vessels (ancient ritual containers) for sacrifices is an act of simplicity during special times and should not be taken as the norm. The natural law of heaven and earth operates through the waxing and waning of firmness and softness, fullness and emptiness—diminishing when necessary, increasing when appropriate, all in accordance with the timing. Just as in nature, excess leads to reduction, deficiency calls for replenishment; emptiness fills when depleted, fullness empties when complete—always maintaining a dynamic equilibrium.

The "Yi Hexagram" (Hexagram of Increase) in the Book of Changes discusses how a ruler gains celestial and terrestrial advantages by reducing upper-class privileges to benefit common people. The hexagram combines Zhen (Thunder) below and Xun (Wind) above, symbolizing the dynamic interplay of thunder and wind that nurtures all things.

The core teaching reveals that when those in power voluntarily diminish their own interests to benefit the populace, the people will rejoice. This top-down beneficence, when practiced with integrity and impartiality, aligns with the central Dao and brings auspicious outcomes. Just as a tree's growth requires strong roots, a ruler's governance must accord with celestial timing, mirroring how Heaven and Earth impartially nourish all beings.

The individual line statements illuminate this principle:

• The initial Nine line indicates great fortune when undertaking major construction projects (referring to public works).
• The second Six line suggests that obtaining a priceless spiritual tortoise (symbolizing divine favor) while adhering to the upright path ensures celestial protection.
• The third Six line shows that providing disaster relief, though seemingly perilous, ultimately avoids calamity.
• The fourth Six line demonstrates that relocating the capital for public benefit gains support when following the Middle Way.
• The fifth Nine line emphasizes how sincere beneficence inevitably brings good fortune.
• The topmost Nine line warns that insatiable greed invites opposition.

A crucial distinction emerges: genuine public welfare policies must stem from the fifth line's heartfelt sincerity, not the top line's wavering intentions. The "ten-peng tortoise" mentioned in the second line (ancient currency where two shells equaled one peng, hence twenty shells) uses precious imagery to represent heaven-sent auspicious signs.

The concluding insight reveals that this governance principle of "decreasing above to increase below" requires steadfastness like restraining mountains or plugging leaks of desire. When rulers sincerely benefit the people, the resulting blessings become mysteriously pervasive—just as the second line's ability to sacrifice to the Heavenly Emperor actually stems from resonating with the fifth line's benevolent heart to receive divine protection.

This passage explains the meanings of the hexagram lines in the "Yi" (Increase) hexagram from the Book of Changes, illustrating how benefiting others leads to gaining trust and blessings.

The text first points out that the fifth yang line (the sovereign position) can sincerely benefit those below, thereby winning the people's trust. The first yang line (the lowest position in the lower trigram) symbolizes the vigorous energy of thunder and wind—when it enters the originally yielding lower trigram (Kun, the Earth), it brings vitality to the land. Though the third yin line (the third position in the lower trigram) loses its correspondence with the fourth yang line (the lowest in the upper trigram) and appears unfavorable, the arrival of the first yang line fundamentally benefits the entire lower trigram.

The fourth yin line (the lowest in the upper trigram) aligns with the fifth yang line's intent to benefit those below, earning it the name "central conduct" (action in accordance with the Middle Way). Its movement follows the first yang line's symbolic shift, showing that yielding individuals who harbor the will to benefit others can still gain recognition.

Finally, the text criticizes the top yang line (the highest position) for lacking the intent to benefit others while still seeking reward—such an inconsistent, demanding mindset inevitably invites harm. The scripture emphasizes that true benefit arises from sincere giving—without genuine intent to benefit, one may face retaliation. Through the relationships between the lines, the passage demonstrates that sincere beneficence from above fosters mutual trust, whereas seeking reward without offering anything in return ultimately leads to self-inflicted consequences.

This passage primarily analyzes the hexagrams "Sun" (Diminution) and "Yi" (Increase) from the Book of Changes, with the core idea that rulers should embody benevolent virtue (De), reducing benefits for the upper classes to increase them for the common people. The second and third yin lines both illustrate this principle: the second yin line speaks of obtaining auspicious omens through divination with precious turtle shells, while the third yin line states that even in the face of danger, persisting in bestowing benefits from above to below will lead to a bright and smooth path.

The first yang line is particularly auspicious and free of calamity, and the fourth yin line also mentions the advantage of taking action. The first yang line is suited for large-scale construction projects, while the fourth yin line is appropriate for relocating the capital to settle the people. By the time of the fifth yang line (symbolizing the ruler), the intention to benefit the people is truly realized, demonstrating that upholding the balanced and correct Dao inevitably brings blessings. The phrase "favorable to cross the great river" specifically refers to the fourth yin line, as it represents the dominant force that complies with the people's will and completes transformative change. The entire Yi hexagram speaks of how heaven and earth generate and transform, benefiting all things—all paths of increase must align with the timing of circumstances.

Wang Benke explains: both the third and second yin lines receive heaven's favor, hence both are described as "walking the middle path" (acting with balance). The fourth yin line and the fifth yang line both aim to benefit the people, so they too are called "walking the middle path." However, the true beneficiaries are the diligent workers of the first yang line undertaking large-scale construction, while what the ruler bestows is not merely material rewards but a heart of benevolent virtue (De). The achievement of relocating the capital in the fourth yin line reflects not only individual talent but also the ruler's grand vision. It is precisely because of such lofty aspirations that great deeds are accomplished; it is precisely because of virtuous and capable individuals that ideals are realized. From this, the noble person (junzi) can grasp the true meaning of "increase."

In the appendix, Cheng Yi (courtesy name Zhengshu) adds: the reason one can persuade lords and high officials is that the proposals are all policies to benefit the people. As long as one sincerely seeks the welfare of the populace, those in power will inevitably trust and adopt them.

Finally, the "Guai" hexagram (Heaven below, Lake above) discusses the Dao of decisive action. The hexagram statement advises openly proclaiming sincerity in the court. Though there may be danger, a warning can be issued from the fiefdom—immediate military action is inadvisable, but taking initiative is favorable. The commentary explains that "Guai" means resolution: the firm resolves over the yielding, requiring both strength and harmony. Proclaiming the correct Dao in the court is necessary because the yielding line encroaches upon the five firm lines. Issuing a warning with sincere intent turns danger into brightness. Warning from the fiefdom without immediate military action is because glorifying force leads to exhaustion.

This passage explains the wisdom of decisive action through the lens of the Guai hexagram (Hexagram 43, symbolizing resolution) from the Book of Changes (Yijing).

The Guai hexagram as a whole depicts five solid (yang) lines below resolving to eliminate one yielding (yin) line above, much like water from a marsh rising to the heavens must eventually fall as rain. The noble person should emulate this natural principle by bestowing blessings upon subordinates, yet claiming merit for oneself invites misfortune.

The initial nine line states: "Advancing with the impetuosity of a toe, pressing forward without adequate strength invites calamity." This warns against forcing decisions when unprepared.

The second nine line describes: "Vigilant cries in the night—though armed conflict arises, there is no cause for alarm." By holding to the Middle Way (proper conduct), even conflicts can be resolved harmoniously.

The third nine line illustrates: "Tense cheekbones reveal a fierce countenance. The noble person acts decisively, like walking alone in the rain—though drenched and disheartened, no true fault is committed." This shows that adhering to the correct path ensures temporary hardships cause no lasting harm.

The fourth nine line uses the metaphor of "a skinless buttock" to depict precarious hesitation in action. If one could yield like leading a sheep, regret would vanish—yet failing to heed wise counsel reflects impaired judgment due to an improper position.

The fifth nine line's "soft yet resilient plant" (likely purslane) symbolizes flexible strength—following the Middle Way avoids error, though this balanced approach hasn't yet reached radiant perfection.

The top six line warns: "No cries for help—ultimate misfortune approaches." The yielding line (six at the top), though positioned high, lacks decisive power and fails to seek support below—an unsustainable state.

The core teaching of Guai reveals: Five yang lines resolving one yin line mirrors water inevitably descending after rising skyward. The yielding line (top six) cannot self-determine—it requires yang strength. With Heaven (Qian, firmness) below and Lake (Dui, joy) above, the hexagram shows resolution demands both strength and flexibility. Tragically, the top yin line occupies Dui's (mouth) position yet remains silent, inviting disaster. This mirrors governance: recognizing danger and seeking change averts crisis, while passive silence courts catastrophe.

This passage analyzes the hexagram "Guai" (Decision) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), illustrating the principles of decision-making in different situations through the transformation of its six lines.

The Nine in the Third Line (a yang line) states, "One cannot maintain lasting peace—even upright conduct may bring misfortune," which can be inferred from the situation of five yang lines. When those in high positions lack sufficient capability yet force action, the consequences are evident. Thus, the Nine in the Second Line, situated among multiple yang lines, recognizes it should not bear heavy responsibilities—why then worry about "nighttime battles"? The "nighttime battles" refer to the activities of thieves at dusk, which are already overseen by those in charge. Therefore, the Nine in the Second Line remains secure in its central position in the lower trigram; even if night battles arise, there is no need for concern. It merely exercises caution, fearing only that commands from above might endanger itself. Hence, the sages praise it for embodying the Middle Way.

The Nine at the Bottom Line resembles a reckless young man charging forward, unaware that proceeding will lead to failure and invite misfortune. The Nine in the Fifth Line speaks of "displaying in the royal court," akin to figures like Zhuge Liang, Jiang Wan, and Fei Yi, who acted with balance and avoided fault. Yet talents like Zhuge Liang are exceedingly rare—observe how the central and upright path of the Nine in the Fifth Line has yet to flourish, far from matching Zhuge Liang's caliber.

The Top Six Line (a yin line) only concludes when the yang energy has fully grown, much like Emperor Xian of Han encountering Cao Pi. From this, we see how difficult it is to support weakness and yielding. Even with the decisive talents of Yi Yin or the Duke of Zhou, one still requires the sincere cooperation of a King Tai Jia or King Cheng. The noble person should adhere to constant principles, and I deeply resonate with the idea of "deciding and re-deciding."

The phrase "announcing from one's own town is unfavorable for waging war" indicates that the five yang lines have nearly exhausted the territory of the Kun (Earth) hexagram. With little left of their own domain, whom could they rally to fight? What they once revered is now depleted—what can five yang lines accomplish? Yet "it is beneficial to have somewhere to go" because all five yang lines represent noble individuals, ensuring no sudden conspiracies of usurpation. They merely allow matters to reach their natural conclusion.

Thus, the sages reiterate the Dao of decision-making through the six lines: The Nine at the Bottom Line, strong in the toes, proceeds but cannot prevail, inviting misfortune—this is the error of excessive decisiveness. The Nine in the Second Line's "no need for anxiety" shows understanding of timing and restraint, aligning with the Middle Way. The Nine in the Third Line, with overlapping yang strength, reveals its decisiveness on the face, manifesting as strong cheeks. If strong toes already bring fault, how much more perilous are strong cheeks? Yet these three lines all embody the virtue of Qian (Heaven) while containing the nature of Dui (Lake), standing at the peak of decisive vigor. Thus, the many yang lines resonate with one another. I alone encounter them, and our meeting blends like moisture—yin and yang harmonize, strength and joy accompany each other. Even with repeated decisions, nothing is unsuitable.

This passage primarily explains how a noble person should conduct themselves according to the "Guai" hexagram (symbolizing decisive action) in the Book of Changes (Yijing), with particular analysis of each line's situation.

A noble person ought to act decisively (guai guai), yet the top sixth yin line (the uppermost yin line) fails to actively seek cooperation. The fourth nine yang line, though desiring decisive action, finds itself in a yin position (yang occupying yin) - like someone with injured skin moving hesitantly, unable to advance, and can only follow passively like sheep in a flock, barely avoiding the regret of being controlled. Its improper positioning renders it insufficiently wise, merely following passively due to hesitation.

The fifth nine yang line stands closest to this isolated top sixth yin line, resembling tender amaranth growing on parched earth - here, refraining from forceful decision-making is actually reasonable. Forcing decisive action at this moment would instead compromise one's upright character. The third nine yang line faces hardship; though corresponding with the top sixth yin line, it still maintains the will to share the nation's adversity. Yet the fifth nine yang line treats the top sixth yin line as if awaiting its eventual misfortune. When ministers reach this state, it's difficult to avoid harboring selfish thoughts. The text particularly extols the virtues of three sages: Yi Yin, Duke of Zhou, and Zhuge Liang.

Supplementary commentaries in the appendix note: The Kun hexagram symbolizes a city, where all five yin lines have transformed, leaving only the top sixth yin line representing a confined urban space. The "Dazhuang" hexagram (Qian below, Zhen above) mentions "strength in the toes" in its first line, while the "Guai" hexagram (Qian below, Dui above) emphasizes advancement even more. The top sixth yin line serves as the dominant line forming the Dui (Lake) hexagram, positioned above heaven, hence the imagery of "encountering rain." Finally, Li Zhi (the Bald Elder) observes that sages deeply cherish the growth of yang energy - from the "Fu" hexagram (initial yang emergence) where they begin seclusion to nurture it, to the "Lin" hexagram (dual yang growth) where they rejoice in its expansion while remaining vigilant against potential decline, demonstrating the sages' commitment to sustaining yang energy's continuous growth.

This passage elucidates the philosophical meanings of the hexagrams "Tai" (Peace), "Dazhuang" (Great Strength), "Guai" (Resolution), and "Gou" (Encounter) from the Book of Changes, with particular emphasis on the principles governing the use of Yang's Virtue (De).

First, it explains that when Yang energy reaches three lines (the "Tai" hexagram, with Earth above Heaven), it represents an ideal state of Yin-Yang balance. At four Yang lines ("Dazhuang," with Thunder above Heaven), though Yang is strong, the noble person should not rely on force to act aggressively—just as a ram butting against a fence would only injure itself. With five Yang lines ("Guai," with Lake above Heaven), even greater caution is required. These are profound warnings from the sages about the proper use of Yang's strength.

The focus then shifts to the "Gou" hexagram (Heaven above Wind), where five Yang lines encounter a single Yin line. The hexagram text states, "A strong woman should not be taken as a wife," meaning that though Yin energy (symbolized by the feminine) occupies only one-sixth of the hexagram, its momentum is fierce, making prolonged interaction inadvisable. Just as Heaven and Earth meet to give birth to all things, the encounter of Yin and Yang is a natural law. However, in this case, Yin is excessively strong and demands vigilance.

Interpretation of the individual lines:

• The first Yin line (bottom line) is like being restrained by a metal brake—stable for the moment but restless, like a lean pig.
• The second Yang line resembles having fish in the kitchen, suitable for personal use but not for hosting guests.
• The third Yang line is like having no skin on the buttocks—walking unsteadily but without serious harm.
• The fourth Yang line, where the kitchen lacks fish, symbolizes losing the people's support, which brings misfortune.
• The fifth Yang line uses willow branches to wrap melons, containing refined beauty—showing adherence to the central and upright path.
• The top Yang line encounters horns; though the situation is difficult, there is no calamity.

Overall, this hexagram represents the "encounter" of a single Yin line appearing within a predominantly Yang structure. One Yin below meets five Yang above, akin to an eldest daughter (symbolized by the Wind trigram) encountering many strong men. Though the meeting of Yin and Yang is natural, the excessive strength of Yin here calls for exceptional caution.

This scripture employs metaphors and symbolic language to convey a cautionary tale about choosing partners and navigating life's path. The core message is: When one has already attained sufficient strength, one should no longer take this woman as a wife. The decision not to marry her signifies that this woman absolutely must not be kept for long-term companionship. As the mother of Shuxiang from the Jin State said: "Indeed, dragons and serpents are born in deep mountains and vast marshes." That beautiful woman—I fear she may bring forth calamity to harm you. Is this woman not precisely the kind who brings disaster, endangering the state and bringing chaos to the family? Clearly, she should not be taken as a wife.

Fortunately, the firm strength of the Nine in the Second Line (the yang line in the Yi Jing symbolizing strong, dynamic energy) acts like a metal brake. When this woman encounters it, she is restrained as if by a brake—once halted, she can no longer act recklessly. The text uses pigs, fish, and melons—symbols of yin energy—to represent the First Line (symbolizing the initial, yielding state). It describes them as pigs trapped within a fence; though they struggle to escape, they do not realize that breaking free would bring misfortune. The restraint of the metal brake, in contrast, is auspicious and proper.

The Nine in the Second Line mentions "wrapping fish." Fish need water to survive; wrapping them naturally leads to their death. Yet here, the fish must be wrapped to avoid calamity, as this fish is harmful to guests and thus cannot be served to them. It is better to confine it than to allow it to bring danger. However, the Fourth Line (representing another developmental stage) invites misfortune upon itself. Even with the braking power of the Nine in the Second Line, it may be difficult to fully restrain. To ultimately avert disaster, one must rely on the balanced and upright Dao of the Nine in the Fifth Line (symbolizing the sovereign position).

Finally, the text speaks of "wrapping melons." Melons are inherently perishable, and wrapping them only hastens their decay. Yet the Nine in the Fifth Line, upholding the balanced Dao, embraces the virtuous qualities of the Nine in the Second Line, much like using willow branches to wrap the melon of the First Six Line. Once the melon has fallen from heaven (indicating the matter is settled), the Fourth Line can appeal to heaven's decree to avert calamity. Here, "heaven" refers to the Qian hexagram (symbolizing heaven, yang energy)—that is, the Fifth Line. Thus, the Nine in the Second Line can also preserve its yang energy.

This passage discusses the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang in the Yijing (Classic of Changes). When Yin begins to grow (the Gou hexagram), Yang must know when to withdraw (the Dun hexagram). If Yin continues to grow until there are three Yin lines (the Pi hexagram), the situation turns unfavorable. Strangely, however, when Yin grows to four lines, the Guan hexagram takes shape. This is because two Yang lines still remain above, able to observe the whole situation without drawing attention to themselves.

The passage stresses that the key is to have a sage of great virtue and standing—a person of broad vision—in a position of leadership. As long as one strong Yang ruler is in place, that is enough to maintain peace throughout the realm; two Yang rulers are unnecessary. When Yin grows to five lines and erodes Yang (the Bo hexagram), it is like a house losing its roof. At that point, the sage teaches people to repair their homes and protect themselves.

Finally, just as the last fruit on a tree (the “great fruit”) must be protected, the sage makes far-reaching plans for Yang amid the changes of Yin and Yang. The author reminds readers to reflect carefully on the deeper meaning. In the appendix, Xiong Nansha discusses the term “dízhú,” citing Li Maoqin’s explanation that it describes the hesitant way someone walks.

The Hexagram of Gathering (Cui) in the Book of Changes (Yijing) illustrates the principle of all things coming together. The hexagram image shows Kun (Earth) below and Dui (Lake) above, resembling water overflowing onto the land, creating a natural scene of convergence.

The core meaning of this hexagram is: When a ruler (Wang) sincerely honors ancestors through sacrificial rites ("jia you miao"), demonstrating filial piety, they will receive divine protection. At such times, meeting virtuous and respected individuals ("li jian da ren") brings favorable outcomes, offering abundant sacrificial offerings ("da sheng") is auspicious, and undertaking journeys or tasks will proceed smoothly.

Why does this hexagram signify such auspiciousness? First, the lower trigram Kun represents gentleness and compliance, while the upper trigram Dui symbolizes joy, indicating harmony between superiors and subordinates. Second, the fifth line (Nine in the Fifth Place) embodies a strong and upright ruler, resonating with the second line (Six in the Second Place), which represents a gentle and virtuous minister—like a wise ruler encountering a capable advisor, naturally fostering unity.

The insights from each line are as follows:

The first line warns: If sincerity is not maintained to the end, gatherings will become chaotic. However, timely adjustments can still avert misfortune.

The second line explains: By adhering to the Middle Way, even simple and sincere offerings ("yue ji") can bring blessings.

The third line cautions: Forced gatherings lead only to sighs; though not disastrous, there will be minor regrets.

The fourth line indicates: Great fortune arises from being in the right position.

The fifth line observes: Though occupying a high position without fault, if trust is lacking, one must remain true to their original intent.

The topmost sixth line reveals: Even if weeping in distress, maintaining reverence ensures eventual peace.

The entire hexagram teaches us: By observing how all things gather, we can understand the patterns of Heaven and Earth. Just as water flows downward, human hearts incline toward goodness, and all things naturally gravitate toward virtue. Leaders must prepare weapons ("chu rong qi") to guard against unforeseen events, but more importantly, they must align with the will of Heaven, using sincerity and virtue (De) to unite people.

This passage discusses how a "great person" (a virtuous leader) should unite the people. A true leader does not deliberately curry favor with the masses but aligns with the Mandate of Heaven and the inherent nature of all things. If a leader attempts to win hearts through flattery, it will instead lead to chaos.

The scripture points out that an excellent leader should: align upward with the Dao of Heaven and downward understand the people's conditions, without the slightest intention of ingratiating themselves. In this way, the people will naturally and sincerely support and willingly gather around them. Just as grand sacrificial offerings are used to honor Heaven, such genuine gathering is auspicious and smooth.

The text illustrates with examples: The first line (Chu Liu in the hexagram) may have sincere intentions, but because the leader (the fifth line, Jiu Wu) treats the people with flattery, Chu Liu ultimately cannot maintain its original purpose. Fortunately, the second line (Liu Er) can wholeheartedly respond to Jiu Wu's call, guiding Chu Liu to gather together, thus avoiding fault.

The situation of the third line (Liu San) is similar to Chu Liu—though gathered, it still sighs, worrying about personal gain. In truth, while Jiu Wu may not be a perfect "great person," it is an upright and virtuous ruler, already trusted by Liu Er and close to Liu Si. The top line (Shang Liu) even longs to gather around Jiu Wu to the point of shedding tears.

This passage emphasizes that true cohesion comes from aligning with the Dao of Heaven and the people's hearts, not from deliberate pandering. Just as Heaven and Earth do not make all things flourish out of selfish intent, a leader should unite people's hearts through the correct path.

This passage expounds on the principles of the "Cui Hexagram" (Gathering) from the Book of Changes. The Cui Hexagram symbolizes congregation and unity.

The scripture analyzes each line's situation: Although the third six-line occupies an improper position, so long as it understands how to follow the fifth nine-line (symbolizing the ruler) upward, proceeding to gather will incur no fault, though there may be minor regrets. Under the circumstances of the Cui Hexagram, as long as one understands to proceed with gathering, none of the lines will be at fault. The second six-line maintains centrality and correctness, while the fourth nine-line shares virtue (De) with the fifth, both attaining auspicious outcomes.

As the ruler, the fifth nine-line, though occupying the honored position of gathering people, must maintain "constant primordial purity" (unyielding integrity of virtue), otherwise it may arouse suspicion and disorder from the first six-line and others. This reminds rulers to rectify their virtue (De) and maintain broad-mindedness.

The text particularly notes that the Cui Hexagram resembles the Bi Hexagram (Union), both emphasizing the ruler's need for "constant primordial purity" virtue. The first six, third six, and top six lines will be faultless so long as they proceed to gather; the second six and fourth nine lines not only avoid faults but achieve great auspiciousness. This shows the sage's magnanimous consideration for ministers—since encountering enlightened rulers isn't easy, it's already commendable if ministers can recommend and gather each other, without demanding every ruler be as sagely as Yao and Shun.

Though the fourth nine-line is yang, unlike the fifth it doesn't occupy the ruler's position. Thus by actively proceeding to gather with the fifth, it attains great auspiciousness instead. This illustrates the principle of harmonious ruler-minister relations.

This passage elucidates the philosophical principles of the "Cui Hexagram" (Gathering) and "Sheng Hexagram" (Ascending) from the Book of Changes.

Regarding the Cui Hexagram (symbolizing gathering), scholars offer this interpretation: True gathering requires a central figure (represented by the fifth yang line at the top), but status alone is insufficient—virtuous character (De) is essential to unite people. The fourth yang line holds actual power without occupying the highest position, yet achieves "great fortune without blame." This teaches us that leaders must rely not merely on authority but on moral integrity to foster unity.

Wang Benke employs the metaphor of water and earth: just as water adheres to the land like people drawing close to their ruler, such affinity brings stability. Yet gatherings require vigilance—as marsh waters need embankments when accumulating, so must a strong nation maintain military preparedness against unforeseen events. This embodies the wisdom of "being prepared for danger in times of peace."

Concerning the Sheng Hexagram (symbolizing ascent), the text states: Ascending gently by seizing the moment (with the Xun trigram below representing humility and the Kun trigram above representing gentleness), maintaining balance and rectitude ensures smooth progress. Like a tree growing steadily from the earth, a noble person must gradually accumulate virtue (De).

Line interpretations:

First yin line: Sincere ascent brings great fortune, for it aligns with celestial will.

Second yang line: With heartfelt sincerity, even simple offerings attract blessings.

Third yang line: Ascending into an empty city signifies unimpeded progress.

Fourth yin line: King Wen's sacrifices at Mount Qi followed heavenly will, securing auspicious outcomes.

Fifth yin line: Perseverance in righteousness enables step-by-step advancement to fulfill one's aspirations.

Wang Ji further notes: Unrestrained water gathering leads to flooding; unregulated human gatherings breed chaos. Just as the five grains are all indispensable and military preparedness cannot be neglected, the key lies in maintaining vigilance without resorting to force.

This passage elucidates the profound meaning of the "Ascending Hexagram" (symbolizing upward movement and development) in the Book of Changes, particularly emphasizing the principle of "ascending naturally without conscious effort."

The topmost yin line represents "ascending unconsciously," the essence of which lies in continuously maintaining the correct path. The Commentary on the Images explains that this unconscious ascent, though reaching a lofty position, eliminates the mentality of insatiable greed.

It is like the growth of a tree: initially tender and fragile, it breaks through the soil and eventually grows taller than the heavens. The hardest things cannot achieve this precisely because they are too fixated on the idea of "ascending." If one constantly thinks about rising, true ascent becomes impossible; even temporary elevation cannot be sustained. Thus, yielding and ascending in accordance with the timing is the most unobstructed and smooth state.

The fifth yin line represents the "great person" (one of noble virtue) in the hexagram. The second yang line, with its firm and centered virtue, resonates with this figure, enabling ascent to meet this great person. Once meeting them, what aspiration could remain unfulfilled? Why worry about people not receiving blessings?

The flourishing growth of trees in summer corresponds to the south (in the Five Phases, the south belongs to Fire, as does summer). Moving southward allows one to encounter the great person, fulfilling aspirations and bestowing blessings upon the people—naturally, this is supremely auspicious. The joy of the second yang line and the fulfillment of the fifth yin line echo each other, with each line ascending at the proper time, leaving no unfavorable outcomes. Other hexagrams, when reaching their zenith, inevitably reverse, but the Ascending Hexagram does not—this is its unique principle.

The bottom yin line, yielding and positioned low, resonates with the fourth yin line, enabling steady ascent and great fortune. The second yang line, firm and centered, is like a simple sacrificial offering that still conveys sincerity. The third yang line is akin to a tree breaking through the soil unhindered, easily entering an empty city. The fourth yin line follows virtue and acts in accordance with timing, its ascending merit worthy of being proclaimed to heaven. The fifth yin line, greatly yielding and centered in correctness, symbolizes an era of universal peace. Thus, steadfastness in the correct path brings good fortune, and ascending the steps signifies assuming the imperial throne and becoming the Son of Heaven.

The topmost yin line ascends unconsciously to the highest point, unaware of its own ascent, eternally maintaining the correct path without cease. This ascent reaches the clouds, yet the tree itself remains oblivious. Because its nature is empty and tranquil, free from self-satisfaction, it constantly guards against complacency. Now, though it has risen to rival the heavens, it remains utterly unaware—this is the elimination of insatiable greed.

Therefore, those skilled in ascent should emulate trees: yielding as they break through the soil, growing into pillars of support in due time, allowing people to enjoy their blessings while remaining indifferent to their own towering height. When their aspirations are fully realized, all may benefit—this is true harmony.

This passage elucidates the symbolic meanings of the "Hexagram of Adversity" (Kun) and "Hexagram of Ascent" (Sheng) from the Book of Changes.

Regarding the Hexagram of Ascent, ancient sages used the metaphor of a tree growing from the earth. Beginning as a tiny seed, the tree imperceptibly grows into towering heights—a process mirroring natural development. Similarly, human endeavors should progress step by step: advancing toward distant goals from nearby starting points, ascending great heights from humble beginnings. The Kun trigram represents earth while the Xun trigram symbolizes wood, together illustrating how gradual accumulation ultimately achieves lofty attainment.

The Hexagram of Adversity reveals the proper response to hardship. Its imagery shows yang strength obscured by yin softness—though in perilous circumstances, one maintains optimism. The noble person who upholds righteousness amidst adversity ultimately finds auspicious outcomes. Mere words without action only deepen distress, like a dried-up marsh. In such times, the superior person must fortify resolve to fulfill their mission.

The individual line statements depict varying adversities:

• The initial six (yin line) resembles being trapped on a tree stump, plunged into dark valleys where light remains unseen for years;
• The nine-two (yang line) suffers indulgence in food and wine, yet remains suitable for sacrificial rites—expeditions bring risk but no major harm;
• The six-three (yin line) is ensnared amidst rocks and thorns, returning home to find no wife—an inauspicious omen;
• The nine-four (yang line) progresses slowly, hindered by a golden chariot, yet ultimately finds deliverance from difficulties;
• The nine-five (yang line) endures mutilation-like constraints (nose severed, feet cut) that gradually loosen—sacrifices here bring blessings;
• The top six (yin line) tangled in creeping vines wavers uncertainly, but transformative action turns peril into safety.

Commentators like Zheng Kangcheng, Xiang Anshi, and Xu Jinzhai further clarify: Kun symbolizes earth while Xun represents wood; when yang strength occupies the upper position, multitudes gather, whereas yang below generates ascending momentum; when the yielding aligns purpose with the firm, recognition and advancement follow. Wang Ji observes that a tree's growth follows natural law—humans should emulate this gradual progression, just as distant journeys begin with nearby steps and lofty ascents commence from lowly footholds.

This passage interprets the line statements of the Water over Lake hexagram, “Oppression” (Kun), in the Yijing (Classic of Changes). The hexagram represents a noble person beset by petty people, yet steadfastly following the right path can ultimately bring good fortune.

The image shows the firm, Yang Kan trigram, which represents water, obscured by the yielding, Yin Dui trigram, which represents a marsh. It is like a noble person surrounded by flatterers and petty people. Though the situation is difficult, the Fifth Nine line keeps its integrity, so it does not lose its prospects for success even in adversity. This is the meaning of “Oppression: success. Constancy. For a great person, good fortune, no blame”: a great person of lofty virtue can remain steadfast on the right path and find good fortune without misfortune, even when beset by hardship.

The firm Qi of the Second Nine line is in the perilous situation of the Kan trigram, but its resolute nature does not change with adversity. Outsiders see only that the person is imprisoned; inwardly, however, he remains at ease and keeps to his usual routine of eating and living. Although the Fifth Nine line listens to slander and repeatedly considers punishing him, in the end it will recognize his integrity.

The First Six line is at the very bottom. It symbolizes sitting on a tree stump, sunk deep in a secluded valley, and needing three years to meet the Fourth Nine line. The wait is long, but they will eventually meet, because the Fourth Nine line has always kept the First Six line in mind.

The Third Six line is in the most difficult position, like someone trapped beneath a massive rock and among thorn bushes. Not only is the person physically confined; even the family is difficult to protect. The passage invokes symbols of status such as the “golden carriage,” the ruler’s chariot, and the “scarlet knee covers,” garments worn by nobles, to underscore the depth of the hardship.

Taken as a whole, the passage teaches that one should keep inner integrity in adversity and, like the Second Nine line, remain undisturbed by external circumstances. In the end, Heaven’s blessing will come. Sacrifice here symbolizes sincere faith in the Way of Heaven and is key to escaping hardship.

This scripture primarily discusses the way to respond when facing adversity. Its core message is that a true "great person" (one of high virtue) can maintain openness and auspiciousness even in difficult circumstances.

The text begins with historical examples: the Lords of Jiu and E brought destruction upon their families through improper conduct. However, the reason the second yang line (in the hexagram imagery of the Yijing) can remain open in adversity lies in two key points: first, steadfast adherence to the correct path (zhen), and second, support from a sage ruler (the supreme ninth line). If a person only knows how to speak clever words (shang kou), they will be helpless when adversity strikes—like being entangled by vines with no means of escape, trapped in danger without peace.

At such times, one should reflect inwardly and sincerely repent past mistakes. With genuine remorse, misfortune can transform into good fortune. A true great person (one of high virtue) is occupied with implementing new policies—how could they spare the time to quarrel with others? This is why great people remain open even in adversity. The scripture particularly reminds practitioners to carefully contemplate the deeper meaning of the phrase "trapped by wine and food"—adversity often stems from one's own indulgence.

Fang Shihua explains: How does one maintain openness in adversity? By keeping a joyful heart (xian yi yue) amid danger, thereby never losing one's true nature. But only a "great person" can achieve this, because their inner strength (gang ju zhong) remains unshaken by external circumstances. True strength is impervious to any hardship, which is why the sages say adversity is the constant state of life. Great people endure silently—though they appear trapped, they are actually open. Complaining about fate or putting on false bravado, on the other hand, invites misfortune.

In the appendix, Wang Zhaosu explains that "three years without meeting" refers to the transformation across three lines from the first to the fourth. Wang Ji analyzes the hexagram imagery: the lower trigram Kan (Water) and the upper trigram Dui (Lake) form the "Adversity" hexagram, symbolizing the plight of a noble person obscured by petty individuals. "Entrusting one's fate" (zhi ming) means surrendering one's life, while "fulfilling one's will" (sui zhi) means persisting in virtuous intent regardless of calamity—these two may seem contradictory but are in fact unified, representing the highest state of confronting adversity.

This interpretation of the Jing (Well) hexagram from the Yijing discusses the virtue of wells and their lessons for human conduct. The hexagram combines Xun (Wind) below and Kan (Water) above, symbolizing an inexhaustible water source.

The well's nature is to remain fixed in place ("the settlement may change, but the well does not"). Whether people draw water or not, the well neither decreases nor increases ("no loss, no gain"). People come and go to draw water, while the well remains constant ("coming and going, the well remains a well"). But if one breaks the bucket before drawing water ("nearly reaching it yet failing to draw from the well, breaking its pitcher"), misfortune follows.

The hexagram explanation states: "The well nourishes all things without exhaustion" ("the well's nourishment is inexhaustible"). The saying "the settlement may change, but the well does not" refers to the well's firm and centered virtue ("its firm centrality"). Drawing water unsuccessfully means failing to obtain it ("not achieving the work"), and breaking the bucket naturally invites misfortune.

The initial six yao line describes a well with mud at its bottom that cannot be drunk ("a muddy well, undrinkable"), so abandoned that even birds and beasts avoid it ("an old well without creatures"), indicating it has been discarded by the times ("temporarily abandoned"). The nine-two line speaks of water leaking away ("shooting fish in a well's gully"), like a cracked jar that cannot hold water ("a broken pitcher leaks"), showing a lack of support ("having no ally").

The nine-three line says the well water has been purified but remains undrunk ("a cleansed well, undrinkable"), which pains the heart ("causing my heart sorrow"). If a wise ruler appears ("with the king's clarity"), all may share the benefit ("together receiving his blessing"). The six-four line states that repairing the well's walls ("lining the well") prevents misfortune. The nine-five line describes cool, refreshing well water ("clear, cold spring from the well"), fit for drinking, embodying centered virtue ("central correctness"). The top six line advises not to cover the well after repair ("the well completed, do not cover it"), for maintaining sincerity brings great fortune ("with sincerity, supreme good fortune").

The Well hexagram teaches us: The well's virtue of nourishing all things is natural and eternal ("the Way of nourishment is naturally inexhaustible"). What matters is whether people draw from it ("the key lies in people drawing from it"). The well neither disappears when ignored ("not drawing doesn't mean the well is lost") nor increases when drawn from ("drawing doesn't mean the well gains"). The well's constancy contrasts with people's coming and going ("what endures is the well; what comes and goes are people").

Just as settlements may relocate ("those who change settlements"), the well's position remains unchanged ("how could the well be changed?"). The nine-five line, situated within Kan's danger ("being in the midst of peril"), shares the well's unyielding nature. But breaking the bucket before drawing water ("breaking its pitcher") means going through the motions without results ("though called drawing, in truth nothing is drawn"), and misfortune becomes evident.

This passage uses the well as a metaphor to explain the principles of governing a state. The water is clean, yet no one draws from it, like worthy people whose talents go unrecognized—a painful loss. A wise ruler appoints capable and virtuous people, bringing benefit to all, from top to bottom.

The scripture unfolds in several stages. At first, the well water is too muddy to drink, as though talent has yet to be discovered. Later, the water is clean (in the Ninth in the Third Place line), but no one draws from it, making the loss even more regrettable. By the Sixth in the Fourth Place line, the well has been repaired but is still unused. In the Ninth in the Fifth Place line, cool water is finally drawn, quenching the thirst of travelers. By the Top Sixth line, the well’s water is inexhaustible and available morning and evening. It need not be covered; anyone can draw from it at any time. This shows that a wise ruler (the Ninth in the Fifth Place line, centered and correct) can bring blessings to all.

The commentaries in the appendix develop these ideas further. Su Shi says that the well itself has neither gain nor loss; what matters is whether anyone comes to draw water. Liu Junbo explains that “do not cover it” means leaving the well mouth uncovered, symbolizing the open sharing of its benefits. Xiong Guo, analyzing the hexagram’s imagery, says that the Initial Six line represents silt at the bottom of the well, the Nine in the Second Place line resembles a small fish in a valley, and the Nine in the Third Place line marks the completion of the cleaning.

The passage concludes by mentioning the Hexagram Ge (Revolution), with Li below and Dui above. It represents change and stresses that reforms carried out at the right time (“the day of one’s own stem”) can win trust (“then confidence is established”), bring a bright prospect (“great success; beneficial to be steadfast”), and dispel regret (“regret disappears”). Through the metaphor of the well, the passage shows that good appointments and sound governance depend on a wise ruler who enables people to use their talents and things to serve their purpose.

The "Tuan" commentary (explanatory text on hexagrams) of the "Ge" (Revolution) hexagram in the Book of Changes states: The Ge hexagram symbolizes the mutual overcoming of water and fire (the upper trigram Dui represents marsh/water, the lower trigram Li represents fire), like two women living together with conflicting aspirations. True revolution requires waiting until the proper time ("ji ri" refers to the opportune moment for change) to gain trust. When revolution commands faith, it can civilize and delight people, achieving smooth progress. Properly conducted revolution eliminates regret. Just as heaven and earth's revolutions create the four seasons, the revolutions of Tang of Shang and Wu of Zhou (referring to Tang overthrowing the Xia and Wu conquering the Shang) conformed to both heavenly will and popular sentiment—demonstrating the crucial importance of timing.

The "Xiang" commentary (image interpretation) states: The image of fire beneath a marsh constitutes the Ge hexagram. Thus the noble person revises calendars and clarifies seasonal ordinances (metaphor for establishing new systems).

Line interpretations:

First Nine: Bind firmly with yellow oxhide (symbolizing securing foundations in early stages). The Xiang explains: This is because the time isn't ripe for reckless action.

Second Six: When the proper time comes for revolution, action brings auspicious results without fault. The Xiang says: Well-timed revolution yields good outcomes.

Third Nine: Rash advance brings danger—even with pure motives, peril remains. Revolutionary proposals require repeated deliberation to gain trust. The Xiang states: Triple consideration of plans prevents errors.

Fourth Nine: Regret vanishes. Changing old systems with sincerity brings good fortune. The Xiang explains: Institutional change succeeds because it aligns with popular will.

Fifth Nine: The great man transforms like a tiger molting (symbolizing leadership-driven change). No divination needed to know he'll gain trust. The Xiang says: The great man's revolution shines with cultural brilliance.

Top Six: The noble person changes like a leopard molting (assisting transformation), while commoners comply superficially. Here, military action brings danger while peaceful perseverance brings good fortune. The Xiang explains: The noble's transformation manifests cultural brilliance; commoners change by following their ruler.

On revolutionary wisdom:

Revolutions must accord with circumstances—never rashly implemented. Like Shang Yang's reforms that strengthened Qin: within one year thousands complained, and ultimately Shang Yang suffered dismemberment without public mourning—precisely because he forced change against unready popular sentiment. Hence "ji ri nai fu"—await the ripe moment and popular support. People can be guided to follow new laws, but hard to make them understand the original intent. Even sages must conform to popular will, through deep contemplation and meticulous planning to make revolution proper and reasonable—only then without regret. People see only the sage's successful revolution gaining trust, unaware of the thorough preparation behind it.

This passage explains the meanings of each line in the "Ge" hexagram (symbolizing revolution) from the Book of Changes (Yijing). The core idea is that revolution requires seizing the right moment and gaining trust, with the entire process unfolding gradually.

The initial Yang line (bottom line) represents the early stage of revolution when the time is ripe but people's trust hasn't yet been established. Like binding something securely with ox-hide, one should maintain stability and avoid rash actions. The second Yin line, positioned at the center of the Li trigram (symbolizing fire), reaches the "day of Ji" (an auspicious time for change). Acting swiftly like a raptor striking or thunder sounding without warning brings favorable outcomes.

By the third Yang line, trust has been secured, and failing to act now would mean missing the opportunity. The fourth Yang line marks the formal implementation stage, where people naturally rally to the cause, bringing inherent auspiciousness. The fifth Yang line shines like tiger stripes, representing the great revolutionary period when one responds to Heaven's will and human needs, capable of establishing new systems. The top Yin line signifies completed revolution—now is the time for maintaining stability, as forcing further change would invite danger.

The hexagram's imagery interpretation: The lower Li (fire) trigram meeting the upper Dui (lake) trigram shows water and fire balancing each other, reflecting Heaven's inevitable laws of transformation. The younger sister (Dui) above the middle sister (Li) also implies the necessity of renewal. The entire revolutionary process demands both decisiveness and caution, ultimately achieving the ideal state of "governing through non-action" (Wuwei).

This passage discusses the principles of “change.” When people occupy the same position but hold different aspirations, a change in human affairs becomes necessary. Only a sage can follow the order of Heaven above and respond to the people’s wishes below, guiding change with just the right measure.

“Originating, flourishing, beneficial, and steadfast” (the four virtues of the Qian hexagram, representing beginning, progress, suitability, and upright constancy) means that change brings no regret. Change requires waiting for the right moment (“the day of ji”). When conditions are ripe, it can be put into effect, and people will naturally be convinced; there will be no need for doubt.

Zheng Xuan explains that “change” means alteration, like Water and Fire opposing one another while also transforming into one another. Wang Bi argues that people are accustomed to established ways and find it hard to adapt to sudden shifts. The principle of change is therefore that it may not win people’s trust at once; one must wait until the time is ripe (“the day of ji”) to gain their confidence.

Cai Zimu points out that both change and following what is fitting must observe the principles of originating, flourishing, benefiting, and steadfastness. One must neither follow external things indiscriminately nor change rashly; only by acting in accord with the right way can one avoid error.

Other commentators offer further explanations. Yu Lingsheng says that, at the outset, change should remain stable, like something firmly secured with yellow oxhide. Liu Changmin argues that the leader of change—that is, the ruler—must use both civil and military means. Chang Jichang draws on a historical allusion to explain that the virtue and authority of genuine change can bring distant peoples to submit of their own accord, just as Emperor Shun led the Youmiao tribe to submit through a dance with shields and axes. Wang Ji stresses that one should follow the pattern of the changing seasons, observing celestial signs and establishing the calendar in order to judge the right time for change.

The central idea is that change must accord with Heaven’s timing and win the people’s trust. It must be neither rushed nor indecisive; one must hold to the balanced and upright way of originating, flourishing, benefiting, and steadfastness.

This passage discusses the Ding (Cauldron) hexagram from the Yijing (I Ching), using the cooking cauldron as a metaphor for governing the world. In ancient times, the cauldron served both as a culinary vessel and a symbol of state power.

Regarding calendar reform, the text explains that calendars require continuous revision. Without adjustments, astronomical calculations would gradually accumulate errors—a phenomenon known as "precession of the equinoxes." Establishing a calendrical epoch (lìyuán) maintains the system's accuracy.

The Ding hexagram's structure shows Wood (Xun trigram) below Fire (Li trigram) above, symbolizing cooking with firewood. Its judgment reads "supreme fortune and success" (yuan ji heng), indicating great auspiciousness and smooth progress. Sages used cooking to make offerings to Heaven (xiang shangdi) and nourish worthies with abundant food. The hexagram represents clear perception, gentle advancement while maintaining centrality, and harmonious correspondence with yang strength—hence its exceptional auspiciousness.

Each line corresponds to different cauldron components:

• The initial six line resembles overturned cauldron legs—spilling dregs proves beneficial, just as taking a concubine to bear children brings no harm.
• The nine-two line shows the cauldron filled with food; though companions suffer ailments, one remains unaffected and ultimately blessed.
• The nine-three line depicts broken cauldron handles obstructing action—pheasant soup goes unconsumed, yet rain brings renewal.
• The nine-four line's broken legs spill a noble's feast, portending danger.
• The six-five line features golden handles and carrying pole (jin xuan), favoring steadfastness.
• The top nine line's jade carrying pole (yu xuan) signifies supreme fortune.

Fang Shihua's commentary notes: The initial six represents legs; the three central yang lines form the cauldron's belly; the six-five yin line serves as handles; the top yang line becomes the carrying pole. Though cooking with firewood seems mundane, sages elevate it to sacred ritual—offering to Heaven and sustaining worthies. The six-five line's gentle ascent while maintaining centrality, resonating with nine-two's yang strength, embodies the Dao of sages. The top line's jade pole symbolizes perfect yin-yang harmony, explaining the hexagram's emphasis on "supreme fortune and success."

(Note: "Xiang shangdi" refers to Heaven worship; "jin xuan/yu xuan" are metal or jade carrying poles; "yuan ji heng" denotes supreme auspiciousness in Yijing terminology.)

This passage uses the hexagram image of "Ding" (the Cauldron from the I Ching) to elucidate principles of state governance and nurturing worthy individuals. In ancient times, the cauldron served both as a cooking vessel and a symbol of state power.

The second yang line (Nine in the Second Place) depicts a cauldron filled with food, symbolizing a ruler's genuine capacity to sustain sages and worthies. Though the third and fourth lines also contain food, the third line's distorted cauldron handles make it impossible to lift, while the fourth line's overfilled vessel topples and spills its contents. Thus, only the second yang line truly embodies the capacity to nourish the worthy.

The bottom yin line (Six at the Beginning) represents the cauldron's legs. Though inverted legs may seem contrary to normalcy, this position actually facilitates the removal of spoiled food (symbolizing the elimination of maladministration). While the action appears unconventional, it proves beneficial for removing the old to make way for the new—much like taking a concubine to bear children ultimately brings no harm.

The second yang line, strong and centered, has its cauldron belly full of nourishment (symbolizing substantial capability). Looking upward, it sees problems with both the third and fourth lines—the third's deformed handles and the fourth's spilled provisions—thus it must present its bounty to the fifth line (symbolizing worthy ministers offering their talents to the ruler). Though mutual cooperation would be ideal, with only the second line being reliable, cautious action becomes imperative—how else could one properly conduct sacrifices to Heaven or sustain the worthy?

The third line exists in a transitional phase—its deformed handles render the cauldron immobile, leaving its delicacies unconsumed (symbolizing wasted talent). Failing to resonate with the top yang line creates regret. Though the original purpose of nourishment is lost, the capacity remains, and with the top line's jade carrying ring (the lifting mechanism), the vessel can ultimately be raised, bringing auspicious results.

The fourth line, however, suffers from overfilling—its broken legs topple the cauldron, creating chaos (symbolizing failure through overextension). The key lies in maintaining hollow centrality (the empty space within the cauldron's belly), as the true capacity to bear weight depends entirely on this wise emptiness. Hence the phrase "yellow handles and metal rings"—using yellow (symbolizing the Mean) for the handles and metal for the rings to lift heavy loads. The fifth yin line precisely embodies this—employing the Mean as handles and gold as rings (symbolizing the ruler governing via the Middle Way)—thus particularly emphasizing "perseverance brings advantage."

As for the top yang line, the cauldron's contents have already been lifted, making rings unnecessary—yet it occupies the ring's position (symbolizing withdrawing after accomplishment). Thus jade rings metaphorize its noble virtue. The second yang line and fifth yin line, strong and yielding respectively, interact harmoniously—metal rings lift the cauldron's delicacies while the top line's jade rings naturally accomplish the work of transformation. Therefore it is deemed supremely auspicious.

Collectively, this illustrates governance principles: the ruler (fifth line) must uphold the Middle Way; worthy ministers (second line) must dedicate their talents; maladministration must be cleared (first line); overextension avoided (fourth line)—only then can the highest realm of Wuwei (non-action) governance be achieved (top line).

In the Book of Changes (Yijing), the image of the Ding hexagram is highly auspicious, symbolizing great good fortune and smooth success. A ding, an ancient cooking vessel, may seem to be no more than a pot for preparing food, but in the eyes of the sages it symbolizes nurturing worthy people to govern the many. Just as food is cooked in a ding to nourish the spirits, the sages serve Heaven by cultivating worthy people.

Ma Fengyang explains: The sages use simple offerings to honor the spirits, but more solemn rites to cultivate sages and worthies. If they fail to cultivate worthy people properly, then even if they wish to honor the spirits, the spirits will not accept their offerings. Thus, honoring the spirits is called “cooking,” while cultivating worthy people is called “great cooking.” Sages and worthies are so important to the world between Heaven and Earth, yet in reality we often see them die before they are put to use. This is truly heartbreaking! How, then, should the Ding’s symbolic meaning be realized?

As for the Ding’s specific symbolism, its hollow ears allow a pole (xuan) to be threaded through so the vessel can be lifted. It can hold at most four portions; any more and it will overflow. The same principle applies to governing a state: one must know when enough is enough.

Yang Jian uses the Ding as a metaphor for reform: the vessel transforms food, just as the revolutions of King Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou followed the Mandate of Heaven. When a junzi receives the Mandate of Heaven, he must take up his proper position, but the mandate is not everlasting. By following the Way of Heaven, he can retain it; by going against that Way, he will lose it. For this reason, a junzi never dares to forget Heaven’s will.

The Zhen hexagram, formed by doubling the Zhen trigram, symbolizes the rumbling of thunder. Its judgment says: “Thunder rolls, bringing fear, but afterward comes good fortune. The thunder startles those within a hundred miles, yet the sacrificial wine vessel, the qi chang, is not overturned.” This means that when sudden changes arise, one should remain reverent and wary, and only then can one respond with composure. Great upheavals may startle people far and near, yet the person presiding over the sacrifice can still remain calm.

The Commentary on the Images says: “Thunder follows thunder.” Therefore, the junzi remains constantly alert and examines himself. Just as repeated thunder reminds people to be cautious and vigilant, one should continually cultivate oneself and reflect inwardly.

Interpretation of the Zhen Hexagram (Thunder) from the Book of Changes:

The initial yang line (Nine at First) states: When thunder suddenly roars, one first feels startled but soon regains composure, laughing and talking calmly—this brings good fortune. The Xiangzhuan (Image Commentary) explains: The fear induced by thunder serves as a warning that leads to blessings, while the subsequent calmness demonstrates adherence to the Dao's principles.

The second yin line (Six at Second) describes: The thunder strikes violently, potentially causing loss of valuables ("bei" referring to ancient currency). One should seek refuge on high ground (the "nine hills") without haste—what is lost will return naturally after seven days. The Xiangzhuan notes this danger arises from a yin line overriding yang vigor ("riding the firm").

The third yin line (Six at Third) suggests: Though thunder causes trembling, cautious action prevents misfortune. The Xiangzhuan attributes this unease to improper positioning (a yin line occupying a yang place).

The fourth yang line (Nine at Fourth) portrays thunder muffled as if trapped in mud, which the Xiangzhuan interprets as virtue not yet shining forth. The fifth yin line (Six at Fifth) shows thunder reverberating dangerously. While severe loss seems imminent, maintaining the Middle Way (as this line occupies the central position in the upper trigram) averts actual harm.

The topmost yin line (Six at Top) depicts: Thunder makes one's legs quiver ("suosuo") and eyes dart fearfully ("juejue")—advancing now brings misfortune. If the thunderstrike affects only neighbors, no harm befalls oneself, though marital dealings may draw criticism. The Xiangzhuan explains this dread stems from straying from the Middle Way; though ominous signs appear, no real damage occurs when heeding others' experiences as warnings.

The Zhen hexagram symbolizes thunder, representing the eldest son (as Zhen corresponds to the firstborn) presiding over ancestral rites ("chang" denotes sacrificial wine). When thunder resounds, lords within a hundred li who cultivate reverence—as if hearing heaven's warning—inspire similar awe among their people, thereby preserving sacrificial authority ("qichang" signifies ritual privileges). Ancient rulers departing on journeys left their eldest sons to maintain temple ceremonies, hence Zhen's association with "qualified sacrificial officiant." The first line, initiating the hexagram's movement, echoes its core theme; the second line's peril stems from yin overwhelming yang; the third line concludes the lower trigram's vibrational phase.

This passage uses the six lines of the "Zhen Hexagram" (the trigram symbolizing thunder and awakening in the Yijing) to illustrate the proper attitude for cultivation during turbulent times.

The third line (6-3) depicts the state of inner vigilance when disturbances first arise. Like thunder that startles people awake before stillness returns, practitioners at this stage should introspect, act prudently, ensure their inner cultivation remains flawless, and avoid behavioral missteps.

The fourth line (9-4) represents the peak of turbulence, where the heart is filled with terror. Yet the scripture clarifies that true "shock" (zhen) should focus on self-reflection. Those who wallow in fear without learning to retreat and examine themselves will never attain luminous clarity.

The fifth line (6-5) faces continuous tremors, moving perilously back and forth. But advanced practitioners maintain composure, knowing what truly matters (their inner cultivation) can neither be seized by external chaos nor augmented by it. This ability to preserve one's essence amid danger becomes the measure of cultivation depth.

The top sixth line (Top-6) has distanced itself from the epicenter yet displays more panic than those actually affected—its mind empty and actions erratic. The text critiques this inversion of priorities, suggesting that adopting the fifth line's steadiness could avert misfortune. Otherwise, like the third line, one may appear cautious yet remain unfit for meaningful collaboration.

The conclusion observes: practitioners at lower stages often require external shocks to awaken their diligence. Through contrasting the hexagram's lines, the passage demonstrates that genuine cultivation lies not in superficial agitation, but in maintaining inner stability amidst upheaval.

This passage elucidates the principles of the "Zhen" (Thunder) and "Gen" (Mountain) hexagrams from the Book of Changes. The Zhen hexagram represents thunder, symbolizing agitation and awakening, while the Gen hexagram represents a mountain, symbolizing stillness and restraint.

Regarding the Zhen hexagram, it states: The supreme state is one unaffected by external disturbances. When thunder rumbles, all things experience loss, birth, gain, and cessation—phenomena unmatched by other hexagrams. Thunder moves swiftly, lightning strikes fiercely, and nothing under heaven remains undisturbed. Those who defy the will of heaven are punished; the unfilial are condemned—how much more so for Daoist practitioners and noblemen presiding over rituals? A nobleman observing the Zhen hexagram should awaken to self-reflection. Thus, the Great Image Commentary says: "Thunder rolls continuously; the nobleman, therefore, maintains reverence and cultivates self-examination."

Scholarly interpretations include: Master Wu associates the Qian (Heaven) hexagram with the firmness of a sovereign and the Kun (Earth) hexagram with the land and cities. Master Yu explains that "far" refers to the hexagram's external manifestation, while "near" denotes its intrinsic nature—both embody the imagery of agitation. Zheng Kangcheng interprets ritual sacrifices as the sovereign overseeing the slaughter of offerings, while ministers arrange the ceremonial vessels. Xiong Guo notes that the Zhen hexagram symbolizes the foot, with the initial nine-line resembling a foot stepping upon the Nine Mounds.

Concerning the Gen hexagram, it teaches: Gen signifies stopping. One halts when it is time to halt and moves when it is time to move. When stillness and action align with their proper timing, the path becomes clear. Stopping must occur in the appropriate position. Though upper and lower lines correspond, they do not interfere with one another—thus, one remains unbound by bodily desires, walking through a courtyard as if seeing no one, free from fault. The Image Commentary states: "The doubled mountain of the Gen hexagram reminds the nobleman to contemplate without overstepping his bounds."

Line interpretations include: The initial six-line advises restraining the toes to avoid fault, favoring enduring adherence to correctness. The second six-line warns that stopping the calves cannot save followers, bringing inner discontent. The third nine-line cautions that halting at the waist tears the spine's sinews, with danger scorching the heart. The fourth six-line affirms restraining the body incurs no blame. The fifth six-line explains that stopping at the jaws brings orderly speech, dispelling regret. All these teachings emphasize the wisdom of knowing when to stop.

This passage uses the Gen hexagram in the Classic of Changes (the Yijing), which symbolizes a mountain and represents stillness, to explore the principles of learning and self-cultivation. Its central message is that true learning does not come from pursuing breadth without limit, but from knowing when to stop.

The top line of the Gen hexagram, the “Nine at the Top,” says, “Firm stillness brings good fortune.” The Image commentary explains that this is because only what is substantial can bring things to a good end. The Zhen hexagram, symbolizing thunder and action, and the Gen hexagram are the two hexagrams the sages used to explore the great principles of learning.

People seeking knowledge today often fall into a trap: the broader their knowledge, the richer their experience, and the more principles they accumulate, the more likely they are to become stubbornly attached to their own views. They are like people who have fallen into a deep pit of desire, from which even the most outstanding individuals can hardly escape. That is why learning depends on knowing when to stop. Stopping must have something to rest upon. The Gen hexagram takes the back as its image because the back is stable and still. True “stopping” is not something one forces through deliberate effort; it is a state that arises naturally.

From the toes to the other parts of the body, the text uses five line positions to represent different levels of “stopping”: the toes symbolize imitative learning that follows another’s steps; the calves represent being unable to stop despite wanting to; the waist represents forcing oneself to be still amid turmoil, like Gongsun Long’s method of forcibly controlling the mind; the body represents proceeding with care and discipline; and the cheeks represent speaking and acting with restraint.

Each of these counts as a kind of “stopping,” but none reaches the highest level. True learning must attain “firm Gen”: substantial, steady stillness. Such stillness brings inner stability; stability gives rise to quiet, quiet gives rise to calm, and only then can one discern the smallest details and respond to the affairs of the world. One can serve society and its people while remaining detached from worldly concerns.

Yet the passage ends with a warning: without a thunderbolt-like shock—that is, a major upheaval—it is difficult for people truly to clear away distracting thoughts and reach stillness. As the line “Six at the Beginning” says, it is certainly blameless to know when to stop while still at the stage of the toes, but what matters is maintaining lasting correctness. Confucius also said that “stopping” is one of life’s great challenges. Those who follow the way of stillness embodied by the Gen hexagram will naturally meet with good results.

(Note: Gongsun Long was a Warring States period thinker who advocated forcibly controlling the mind. A “line” is one of the basic components of a hexagram in the Yijing; each hexagram has six lines.)

This passage focuses on the state of cultivation known as “stillness” (stopping and settling into quiet). It uses parts of the body as metaphors: the calf (fei) does not want to move, yet must follow the foot’s movements. This is like a practitioner who longs for inner calm but cannot easily control the flurry of distracting thoughts.

Yang Jian’s appendix offers a further explanation: those who truly understand stillness naturally act in accord with the Dao (the Way), while those who understand action naturally settle into stillness. Most people, however, cannot find the right balance between movement and rest, as naturally and harmoniously as the cycles of heaven and earth or the alternation of sun and moon. The sages teach the practice of “keeping the back still”—focusing on the back—to make the senses and actions as settled as the back itself. When this state is reached, even social interaction is like being alone, because the mind has moved beyond distinctions and oppositions. This is what it means to “remain in one’s proper place,” abiding in one’s proper position. If the notion of “I” remains, attachment remains too.

Xiong Guo’s commentary adds that in ancient writing the character for “back” was written as “north,” and was sometimes mistakenly written as “stop.” But according to the hexagram text, it should be understood as “back.”

The central point is that the highest form of stillness does not come from forcibly suppressing thoughts. It comes from a natural state free of self and attachment. Just as the back is naturally still and the face naturally active, practitioners should let the mind return to its inherent quiet, rather than deliberately trying to control it.

This passage explains the principles of the Gen (Mountain) and Jian (Gradual Progress) hexagrams from the Book of Changes. The ancients observed that paired thunder, wind, fire, water, and marsh hexagrams all signify mutual interaction, while only paired mountains (Gen) represent stillness without exchange. The mind's function lies in thinking, but only thoughts anchored in their proper place constitute correct contemplation—just as calm water reflects all things yet remains unmoved, or as the sun and moon eternally illuminate creation without ever shifting.

The mind's operation is subtle: complete absence of thought leads to emptiness, while excessive thinking chases external objects. The highest state is apparent thoughtlessness that comprehends all—this is the supreme learning of sages. Earlier scholars spoke of "not overstepping one's position" as the rich being content with wealth and the poor with poverty, but this merely describes surface phenomena without addressing thought's foundation. True "non-overstepping" means the mind refrains from external grasping.

The Gen hexagram symbolizes stopping, using the human back as metaphor—eyes, ears, mouth, nose and limbs all engage in frontal activity, while the back alone remains still. Yet this seemingly useless back connects the five viscera, transporting nutrients to nourish the whole body, embodying the wisdom of "using what appears useless."

The Jian hexagram (Gen below Xun above) teaches gradual advancement. Its judgment states a maiden's marriage brings good fortune because success comes through step-by-step propriety. Progress requires steadfast adherence to the correct path to properly govern states. The image of trees on a mountain (symbolizing accumulated virtue) shows how noble persons cultivate worthy character to transform customs.

The line statements employ wild geese ascending as metaphors:

• Initial Six: A young goose on the shore—youths face reproach but no real harm;
• Six Two: The goose rests securely on flat rocks while feeding—steadfast work brings good outcomes;
• Nine Three: The goose flies to high ground—a husband departs never to return, a wife struggles in childbirth—warning against external threats;
• Six Four: The goose perches safely on tree branches—adapting to circumstances ensures stability;
• Nine Five: The goose reaches the mountain ridge—a wife bears no child for three years but ultimately succeeds—perseverance in righteousness brings fulfillment.

These all illustrate that affairs should progress like migrating geese—knowing when to stop (Gen) and when to advance steadily (Jian). Proper balance between movement and stillness brings auspicious results.

This passage explains the line statements of the Gradual Progress hexagram in the Classic of Changes (Yijing), which symbolizes development by degrees. Through images of wild geese in flight and a woman marrying, it teaches that people should proceed step by step and remain true to their proper place.

The statement for the top line says that a wild goose flies to the high ground, and its feathers can be used to adorn ceremonial regalia. This is an auspicious sign. The Image Commentary explains that the good omen lies in the feathers being arranged in order and not thrown into disarray. This serves as a metaphor for maintaining one’s integrity.

The Gradual Progress hexagram is made up of Xun (Wind) and Gen (Mountain), symbolizing the gradual development of things. Fang Shihua explains that both the Mutual Influence hexagram, which concerns resonance, and the Gradual Progress hexagram are associated with marriage between men and women. But the Mutual Influence hexagram addresses the principle of attraction, while the Gradual Progress hexagram focuses specifically on the process of a woman’s marriage.

The first line symbolizes a woman awaiting marriage, like a wild goose just leaving the water. The second and fifth lines correspond to one another and represent a proper marriage. The third and fourth lines represent a marriage formed as a temporary expedient. The top line emphasizes chastity and integrity. When a woman first marries, she is like a young wild goose leaving the water: she feels anxious and unsettled, which is only natural and does not count as a fault.

The passage then alludes to the story of Meng Guang, who served her husband with such respect that she raised a tray of food to the level of his eyebrows. Like a wild goose resting by the water and eating at ease, she represents a woman who disdains vanity and is content with a simple life. This attitude of finding joy in contentment naturally brings good fortune. The wild goose in the fifth line flies up to the hills. This does not mean it is dissatisfied with its present circumstances, but that it refuses to settle for an unsuitable match. Going three years without conceiving does not mean being unable to bear children; it means waiting for a suitable partner. Like Liang Hong of the Eastern Han dynasty, who chose a wife with great care and found happiness only late in life, this is the proper way to marry.

The third line has no corresponding partner. It is like a wild goose stranded on dry land, unable to find a place of rest. When a husband goes off to war and does not return, he reluctantly takes in the woman represented by the fourth line, but dares not openly have a child with her. Such a forced union is bound to end badly. Yet an orphaned woman with no one to rely on has no protection unless she marries. The woman in the fourth line is also anxious in her heart, like a wild goose that should not perch in a tree but settles there because it has nowhere else to go. Losing one’s support is indeed dangerous, but finding a suitable home—like finding a level branch to rest on—can avert disaster. This is the expedient marriage represented by the third and fourth lines.

Finally, the passage emphasizes that a wild goose that loses its mate will live out its days alone. Even after death, its feathers remain neat. This quality of remaining true to one’s integrity is like the orderly feathers that make it fit for ceremonial decoration: it symbolizes a lofty integrity that must not be thrown into disarray.

This passage primarily explains the hexagram image and line statements of the "Returning Maiden" (Guimei) hexagram from the Book of Changes. The "Returning Maiden" symbolizes a maiden's marriage, yet the hexagram reveals numerous problems in this union.

Wang Bi (style name Fusi) notes that the third line (a yin line) originally belongs to the Gen hexagram (representing stillness), but abandons its proper path to pair with the fourth line (also yin). This resembles a wife forsaking chastity to unite with a non-husband figure, resulting in the ominous omen of "conceiving yet being unable to nurture." The fourth line belongs to the Xun hexagram (symbolizing wood), hence the line statement mentions the imagery of "obtaining rafters (roof beams)."

Yu's commentary explains that the fifth and second lines correspond, symbolizing proper marital relations and thus good fortune; whereas the third and fourth lines' adjacency represents improper relations between genders, hence misfortune.

The hexagram statement "Returning Maiden" declares: Marriage brings misfortune, nothing proves advantageous. Though male-female union reflects heaven-earth's great principle ("the grand meaning of heaven and earth"), this hexagram shows improper positioning (yin lines occupying yang positions) and weakness overriding strength ("the yielding riding the firm"), thus inauspicious. The hexagram image shows thunder above the marsh (Dui below Zhen above), prompting noble persons to carefully consider matters' ultimate outcomes.

The line statements respectively describe:

• First Nine: A maiden marries as accompanying bride; like a lame person who can still walk, advancement brings good fortune
• Nine Two: A one-eyed person who can still see; fitting for hermits maintaining rectitude
• Six Three: The marriage gets delayed, ultimately becoming an accompanying bride instead
• Nine Four: The marriage gets postponed, yet eventually finds its proper timing
• Six Five: Emperor Yi marries off his sister; the principal wife's sleeves prove less splendid than the accompanying bride's; fortune comes at full moon
• Top Six: A maiden carries an empty basket; a man slaughters a sheep without bloodshed; nothing proves advantageous

The passage concludes by contrasting the "Gradual Advance" (Jian) hexagram—which describes a maiden gradually becoming principal wife—with the "Returning Maiden" hexagram where the maiden immediately becomes principal wife (without gradual process). This juxtaposition implies marital stability requires step-by-step progression.

This passage elucidates the auspicious and inauspicious principles concerning ancient marriages (nü gui) through the lens of the hexagrams. In modern terms:

A woman's marriage must align with her status and proper protocol. The principal wife (nü jun) entering matrimony is auspicious, for her position is rightful and helps uphold the virtuous conduct (De) of all women in the state. Just as the Nine in the Fifth line represents the sovereign, the principal wife's position must remain stable and gentle to ensure the country's tranquility.

The situation differs for accompanying concubines (di qie). Their lowly status is symbolized by the imagery "the maiden carries a basket, but it is empty" - denoting their lack of substantial position; and "the young man slaughters a sheep, but no blood flows" - signifying an incomplete marital rite. The Top Six line represents such improperly positioned concubines whose forced ascension invites misfortune.

Other lines carry distinct meanings: The Nine in the Fourth resembles an eldest daughter awaiting marriage; the Six in the Fifth holds supreme nobility, like King Di Yi's sister marrying King Wen of Zhou; the Six in the Second symbolizes the principal wife's attendants who must remain humble and ritual-proper; the Initial Nine and Six in Second share substance, reflecting the tradition of daughters obeying fathers before marriage and husbands after; while the Six in Third, though senior in age, remains subordinate in status, merely awaiting arrangements.

Ultimately, these hexagram images illustrate the distinction between principal wives and concubines in ancient marriages, emphasizing the importance of correct positioning and ritual propriety (li). Proper alignment brings good fortune, while forced overstepping invites calamity.

This passage discusses the ancient marriage custom known as “Returning Maiden,” in which a younger sister accompanied her elder sister when both married the same man, and the principles for conducting oneself that it embodies.

The text uses celestial phenomena as a metaphor. Just as the moon stands at the center as it nears fullness, the principal wife, the ruler’s consort, is matched with her husband in their respective inner and outer roles and holds a position of honor beyond comparison with the younger sisters who accompany her. Though the Fifth Line is plain, its sleeves, which symbolize status, are ultimately less splendid than the principal wife’s. The accompanying sisters never presume to stand on equal footing with her. They should follow in her measured steps and model her Virtue. Such humility allows them to avoid jealousy and conflict, just as the union of Heaven and Earth brings forth the growth of all things and fulfills their great purpose.

If the principal wife is virtuous, but the accompanying sisters fail to be humble and compliant, disaster is hard to avoid. That is why the Returning Maiden hexagram states plainly, “Going forth brings misfortune”: taking the initiative carries danger, with misfortune and no good fortune. One should comply, not press one’s own claims. Even if one humbles oneself and proceeds as cautiously as a lame person or a blind person, there is still fear of misfortune. How much more so if one actively competes for favor? This is a stern warning.

Although the “Returning Maiden” custom accords with the great purpose of Heaven and Earth, an accompanying wife who does not keep to her proper place invites danger. The custom no longer exists today, but distinctions between wives and concubines remain. Those of lower status must learn restraint; anyone seeking to become a principal wife should take the Fifth Line as a warning. Rulers and ministers, too, must be vigilant if they wish to keep their households harmonious. Otherwise, the result may be the tragic ruin of both state and family. The sages offered earnest warnings even about such seemingly minor matters because they could not bear to see the harmony of Heaven and Earth disrupted by something small.

In an appendix, Yang Jian explains that the Initial Nine Line occupies a low position and therefore symbolizes the accompanying younger sister. She cannot act independently, just as a lame person has difficulty walking. Yet proceeding in this way accords with the proper role of an accompanying wife, so “Going forth brings good fortune.” Xiong Guo, by contrast, explains the hexagram through celestial imagery: in the Returning Maiden hexagram, Zhen symbolizes the elder brother, who governs the outer realm, while Dui symbolizes the young woman awaiting marriage. The Records of the Celestial Offices identify the four stars of Xunu as the stars of low-ranking concubines, which is why both Zixia and Meng Zong understood the passage as referring to the custom of accompanying wives.

The Hexagram Feng (Abundance) in the Book of Changes elucidates the principles governing the zenith of prosperity. "Feng" symbolizes greatness and radiance, akin to the noonday sun illuminating all things. The sovereign (representing leaders) should emulate this magnanimous spirit—free from anxiety yet maintaining moderation like the midday sun, for when the sun passes its zenith it declines westward, and the full moon inevitably wanes. This reflects the natural order of heaven and earth, equally applicable to human affairs and the Dao of spirits.

The hexagram's image of thunder and lightning teaches the noble person to adjudicate legal cases and administer punishments with penetrating clarity. Its six lines reveal distinct situations:

The initial yang line suggests meeting a compatible ruler—remaining blameless for ten days, with favorable prospects if proceeding further. However, exceeding this period invites misfortune.

The second yin line depicts obscured brilliance—seeing the Big Dipper at noon. Action here arouses suspicion, yet sincere intent brings auspiciousness.

The third yang line shows greater obscuration—spotting minor stars at midday like a broken right arm. Though without major faults, significant achievements prove difficult.

The fourth yang line again encounters veiling—observing the Dipper at noon, but encountering an equitable ruler ultimately brings good fortune.

The fifth yin line welcomes returning radiance—receiving blessings and acclaim, indicating great auspiciousness.

The top yin line warns of towering houses that shadow homesteads—peering inside for three years without seeing inhabitants portends calamity, demonstrating how excessive pursuit of grandeur leads to isolation.

Ming Dynasty Yijing scholar Fang Shihua explains: Feng's abundance resembles the sun at zenith making all things visible. At dusk when creatures rest, this magnificence disappears. Rulers governing the world revere precisely this luminous magnanimity. Though the hexagram shows light below (suggesting impending dimness) and thunder above (implying gathering clouds)—seemingly worrisome—understand this: the sun declines after zenith only to rise anew; thunderstorms invariably yield clear skies. Present brightness below will ascend to mid-heaven; overhead thunder ultimately heralds fresh illumination.

The sun will naturally have its time to shine everywhere under heaven. Why worry that it will not rise to its zenith? All things under heaven will eventually see the light. So there is no need for concern: the sun should rise to its highest point and shine in every direction. When it reaches noon and shines most brightly, its light gives rise to action, and action brings abundance. This is the principle by which a ruler governs the realm.

The line text for the fifth line, Six, mentions “coming to display the light.” This in fact refers to the image of “the sun at noon” represented by the second line, Six. The second line, Six, is the ruling line of the Li trigram, which symbolizes the sun, and represents the sun at midday. But under the influence of the Zhen trigram above, which symbolizes thunder, the unusual celestial signs of “the great screen that blocks the light” and “at noon, seeing the stars” appear. There is no need to worry, however: the sun’s light has never truly vanished. It is only temporarily obscured by the clouds represented by the fourth line, Nine.

The fourth line, Nine, lies at the first stirrings of the Zhen trigram, and so brings about the obstruction. Though this makes daylight as dim as night, the image of the Mingyi hexagram, once the dark clouds disperse and the sun reappears at its zenith, it can meet again with the “lord of darkness,” referring to the second line, Six, and in the end all will be auspicious. The first line, Nine, and the second line, Six, both belong to the Li trigram’s sphere of light. Their meeting is a natural match, though for the moment they are obscured. The hexagram image suggests that if rain falls and the skies clear within ten days, the sun will surely be seen again. There is no need for excessive worry.

The third line, Nine, lies beneath the thunder’s movement. Not only are the clouds thick, but heavy rain is falling. Though it is midday, the downpour makes it a poor time to set out. Of the three lines in the Li trigram, only the second line, Six, represents noon; the first and third lines, Nine, are like the left and right arms. At this moment, the right arm—the third line, Nine—should not move recklessly, or it may be broken. But this is simply due to changing weather; the third line, Nine, itself is not at fault.

The true way to abundance is to shine everywhere under heaven like the sun at its zenith. It is not to be like those who think only of “making their house grand”—who give no thought to benefiting all beings as the midday sun does, but concern themselves only with enlarging their own home. How could such selfish conduct be compared with the way of a king?

This scripture primarily discusses two core concepts: self-enclosure versus universal illumination, and the wisdom of the Travel hexagram.

The first section uses the metaphor of a house to describe human states of being. Those who elevate themselves believing none can equal them are actually confining themselves within sealed chambers. They construct lavish dwellings (fengwu) imagining they soar through the heavens, yet render their homes utterly vacant—ultimately burying themselves in isolation. The truly wise do not shine for themselves alone, but radiate like the midday sun upon all beneath heaven. This is how a true sovereign should be, for even with greatest achievements one remains free from arrogance, naturally earning praise. Compared to those self-enclosed autocrats, this represents genuine abundance.

The second section interprets the Travel hexagram (Lü, formed by Gen below Li above, symbolizing fire beneath a mountain) from the Book of Changes. The hexagram advises that when wandering abroad, one should maintain gentle adaptability (rou de zhong) while cleaving to illumination (li hu ming) to attain minor success (xiao heng). The noble person thus understands the need for discerning judgment in applying penalties, never prolonging legal disputes. The individual line statements reveal:

• First Six: Pettiness during travel invites misfortune—this stems from narrow-mindedness.
• Second Six: Finding lodging on the journey while carrying wealth and retainers; maintaining correctness prevents error.
• Third Nine: The inn burns down, retainers are lost—grave danger arises from treating subordinates as mere travelers, abandoning moral principle.
• Fourth Nine: Gaining resources and tools (the axe) during travel, yet remaining joyless because one hasn't found proper positioning.

The appendix clarifies the phrase "peering through the door to find no one": the character for "peering" (kui) depicts spying through a crack, while "no one" (chou) combines "eye" with emptiness—describing absolute desolation where even wide-eyed searching reveals no presence.

This passage from the "Travel" hexagram (Lü Gua) of the Yijing explores the varied circumstances and wisdom required during life's journeys.

The sixth line in the fifth place states: "Losing an arrow while hunting pheasants, yet ultimately gaining honor." Here, the hunting metaphor illustrates gains and losses during travel, suggesting that even with setbacks, adhering to the right path will eventually bring recognition. The top line (ninth line) employs the imagery of "a bird's nest burning" as a warning—those in high positions who approach life's journeys with arrogance will experience fleeting success followed by misfortune, akin to the irrecoverable loss of an ox at the field's edge.

The hexagram's structure (Fire over Mountain, with Gen below and Li above) symbolizes a traveler carrying illumination forward. Fang Shihua explains: Travel requires external flexibility (the yielding virtue of the Li trigram) while maintaining inner steadfastness (the restraining virtue of the Gen trigram). Ordinary travelers must attend to details, much like merchants managing attendants and goods, whereas the "great journeys" of nobility concern national fortunes and demand greater caution.

The initial six-line warns: At humble stations, excessive pettiness (such as fixating on servants' treatment) invites misfortune—one must cultivate broad-mindedness. Yet the third nine-line cautions: Excessive rigidity and haste (like harsh treatment of subordinates) leads to dwellings burned and followers scattered. Only the second six-line, centered and yielding, demonstrates the ideal state for common travelers—securing shelter while properly managing resources and retinue. The fourth nine-line notes: Those in noble positions must abide by their roles, as capricious commands erode authority.

Through these scenarios of "travelers" at different stations, the text reveals a universal truth: Life is a journey where all, regardless of status, must balance strength and flexibility—neither becoming mired in trivialities nor domineering to one's detriment. Finding this equilibrium ensures auspiciousness and peace.

This passage uses the "Travel" hexagram (symbolizing wandering and journeying) to expound on the principles of human circumstances. When one finds oneself in a rootless, wandering state, even if acquiring material resources (symbolized by "provisions and axes"), one can only go with the flow. Like when the Li hexagram (symbolizing fire) occupies the upper position, it portends signs of being burned: the imagery of tear-filled eyes and wailing in grief; or like losing the mother cow, symbolizing the loss of one's foundation.

The text cites historical lessons: figures like King Taikang of Xia and Emperor Yang of Sui initially reveled in pleasure and self-satisfaction, only to end in bitter tears. This illustrates that those in high positions who remain rootless wanderers for too long will inevitably lose their foundation, like birds whose nests are burned. Only by following the fifth line of the Li hexagram (symbolizing shooting a pheasant) can one, despite initial setbacks, ultimately gain heaven's favor through cultural refinement and reputation—as seen in the stories of Shaokang's restoration, Duke Huan of Qi (Xiaobai), and Duke Wen of Jin (Chong'er).

For ordinary people, seeking livelihood abroad is a last resort: whether pursuing scholarly honors or commercial profits. One must treat servants as one's own children and serve masters as elder brothers, avoiding greed and anger to remain safe. For those in high positions, unless they achieve extraordinary merit like gaining renown through shooting pheasants, they fundamentally should not lightly abandon their proper place.

Wang Ji's appendix adds: fire on a mountain (the Travel hexagram image) symbolizes clarity and caution. Fire's restless nature mirrors the traveler's predicament, with the worst scenario being like a prisoner trapped in jail. Whether emperor (like King Hui of Zhou fleeing to Zheng), feudal lords, or commoners, all wanderers must maintain fire's clarity and the mountain's steadfastness.

This passage primarily explains the meanings of the two hexagrams "Lü" (Travel) and "Xun" (Compliance/Wind).

First, the "Lü" hexagram. In ancient times, people of different statuses each had their own "journeys": feudal lords had their official travels (like the example of Ren Qianzhou), ministers had their diplomatic missions (like Chen Wenzi visiting other states), and sages too had their sacred wanderings (such as Confucius traveling between states or Mencius spreading his teachings). King Wen's travels during times of adversity particularly inspire deep reflection, hence the sayings "petty concerns during travel invite misfortune upon oneself" and "though receiving assistance on the journey, the heart finds no joy." Confucius' extensive travels east, west, south and north illustrate that "treating subordinates with a traveler's mentality loses Dao (the Way), while treating superiors thus invites calamity" — neither approach being appropriate.

Next, the "Xun" hexagram (representing wind). This hexagram indicates modest success, favorable conditions for travel, and beneficial encounters with noble persons. With both upper and lower trigrams being Xun, it symbolizes repeated proclamation of orders. The strong Nine in the second line aligns with the central and upright Nine in the fifth, enabling the realization of aspirations. The yielding submit to the firm, hence the modest success, favorable travel and auspicious meetings with dignitaries.

Line interpretations:

Initial Six: Indecisive advancing and retreating; suitable for military officers to maintain steadfastness.

Nine in Second: Humility extending beneath the bed (indicating extreme deference), showing scribe-like reverence — auspicious without misfortune.

Nine in Third: Frequent attitude changes invite trouble.

Six in Fourth: Regrets vanish; hunting yields diverse game (symbolizing abundant harvest).

Nine in Fifth: Perseverance in Dao (the Way) brings good fortune; regrets disappear with nothing unfavorable. Initial difficulties ultimately resolve. Action taken during the three days before and after the Geng day (an ancient calendrical marker) proves auspicious.

Top Nine: Humility beneath the bed loses support; even perseverance in Dao (the Way) turns ominous.

Finally, the Xun hexagram symbolizes wind, which resembles heaven's mandate. When rulers issue commands, they must emphasize them repeatedly (like "three exhortations and five declarations"), just as wind must penetrate deeply. The strong Nine in the second line aligns with the central Nine in the fifth, thus fulfilling the aspiration to convey orders. The yielding submit to the firm, hence the modest success and favorable conditions for travel and meeting noble persons. The benefits of "favorable travel" and "auspicious encounters with dignitaries" here are no trivial matters.

(Note: The "Geng day" refers to a day in the ancient sexagenary cycle. "Three days before and after the Geng day" indicates this specific time window.)

This scripture primarily analyzes the line statements of the Xun hexagram (symbolizing wind and compliance) from the Book of Changes. The Xun hexagram represents gentle compliance like the wind, which penetrates all things without obstruction. The text examines each line position:

The Nine in the Fifth (yang line at the fifth position) symbolizes a great person, akin to how a powerful wind commands universal compliance. Scholar Yu's commentary interprets this through heavenly stems: Jia represents the beginning of affairs, as seen in the Gu hexagram discussing restoration after chaos; Geng signifies the midpoint requiring transformation, where the Xun hexagram emphasizes cautious action for favorable outcomes.

The Six at the Beginning (yin line at the first position) should theoretically correspond with the fourth line, but compliance with the times demands following the fifth instead. Hesitation leads to missed opportunities, whereas decisive action like a warrior brings advantage. The hunting metaphor illustrates this: while the fourth line can "capture three grades" of game, the initial line must maintain a warrior's steadfastness.

The Nine in the Second (yang line at the second position) resides in Xun's lower realm, stable as a bed's foundation. Though employing diviners ("Shi and Wu") may seem chaotic, adherence to the central path ensures auspiciousness without blame.

The Nine in the Third (yang line at the third position), sandwiched between upper and lower Xun, appears compliant with the fifth while secretly aligned with the top ninth, resulting in distress.

The Nine at the Top (yang line at the sixth position) reaches Xun's extreme, where excessive humility resembles hiding beneath a bed. This forfeits one's "resources and tools" (symbolizing foundational integrity), rendering even surface-level correctness ominous. The text concludes by stressing that compliance directed wrongly—even with proper conduct—invites misfortune during times requiring submission.

Note: "Capturing three grades" refers to ancient hunting's three-tiered game classification; "resources and tools" signify wealth and implements as metaphors for life foundations; "Shi and Wu" were officials overseeing divination and rituals in antiquity.

This passage explains the "Dui Hexagram" (symbolizing marsh and joy) from the Book of Changes (Yijing). The Dui Hexagram is formed by doubling the Dui trigram (Dui below, Dui above), with its judgment stating: "Success is imminent; it is beneficial to persevere in the correct path."

The core meaning is: Dui represents joy—when inner strength is coupled with outward gentleness, such joy brings true benefit. Joy that aligns with the Dao (the Way) and resonates with human hearts can make people forget their toils and even disregard danger in the face of death. Such great joy inspires the masses.

Detailed line interpretations:

The first line (Initial Nine): "Harmonious joy brings good fortune," as upright conduct leaves no room for doubt.

The second line (Nine Two): "Sincere joy brings good fortune; regret vanishes," because the heart is filled with integrity.

The third line (Six Three): "Forced joy invites misfortune," due to an improper position.

The fourth line (Nine Four): "Joy in deliberation is yet unsettled, but minor ailments will heal," worthy of celebration.

The fifth line (Nine Five): "Trusting petty individuals invites danger," as the position is correct but misplaced in faith.

The top line (Six Six): "Luring others for pleasure," such conduct lacks righteousness.

The text emphasizes: Two marshes joined symbolize friends exchanging knowledge (Lize Dui). True joy requires inner steadfastness (gangzhong) and outward gentleness (rouwai), embodying the virtue of the four yang lines (strong and firm). Losing this upright De (Virtue/Power) leads to misfortune, as seen in the two yin lines (soft and yielding).

Through line analysis, the author highlights principles of friendship: The first line stresses harmonious interaction, while the fourth emphasizes deliberation. Initial friendships should maintain purity and warmth, like the ancient sage Liu Xiahui, who valued righteousness and cherished shared joy. Similarly, relationships between rulers and ministers should mirror mentor and friend, jointly upholding the Dao.

This passage elucidates the principles of human relationships and ruler-subject dynamics in the Zhouyi (Book of Changes), analyzing the interpersonal interaction patterns represented by different hexagram line combinations.

When the initial nine line (bottom line) meets the six-four line (fourth line), it resembles encountering a friend upon stepping outside. Forced agreement proves unfavorable—maintaining proper distance brings peace. The text contrasts the stories of Liu Xiahui (a virtuous scholar of the Spring and Autumn period) with Bo Yi and Shu Qi (reclusive brothers of the Shang-Zhou transition) to illustrate that genuine connection lies not in superficial conformity but in heartfelt sincerity. Both parties benefit when, like Liu Xiahui who wouldn't alter his principles even for high office, and Bo Yi who harbored no old grudges, they remain true to themselves.

The nine-two (second line) and six-five (fifth line) relationship embodies trust between ruler and minister. The upright nine-two approaches with integrity; though candid advice may seem offensive, the six-five accepts it. This mirrors how King Wuding of Shang trusted his minister Fu Yue, comparing him to "nourishing rain" and "salt-plum" (essential governance remedies). While frank speech carries risks, a virtuous ruler embraces it.

The six-three (third line) and top nine (top line) combination represents improper connections. The six-three employs flattery while the top nine exploits it for self-display—their mercantile interactions overflow with sycophancy yet they presumptuously claim "mentor-friend" status, revealing true pathos.

The text highlights the conduct of "great persons" (daren, those of lofty virtue): they focus on rectifying themselves without demanding perfection from others, yet transform everyone around them. In contrast, overly calculating relationships appear petty, while unprincipled compliance borders on frivolity. Only those like the nine-five line position—capable of accepting blunt remonstrance without taking offense—approach true noble-mindedness.

The appendix cites Song dynasty scholar Hu Yuan (style name Yizhi) explaining that the Dui (Joy) hexagram avoids direct use of the word "pleasure" because sage-inspired transformation operates beyond language. Ming scholar Xiong Guo observes that while the six-four and six-three lines occupy adjacent positions, they maintain boundaries like demarcated territories.

Finally, the Huan (Dispersion) hexagram (Water below Wind above) symbolizes how fragmented situations require ritual cohesion—just as rulers use ancestral temple ceremonies to unite people. This facilitates overcoming difficulties, provided one steadfastly adheres to the correct path.

This passage explains the hexagram imagery and line interpretations of "Huan" (Dispersion) from the Book of Changes (Yijing). The Huan hexagram symbolizes wind moving over water, representing the scattering of all things, yet it contains principles for rulers governing the world.

Composed of the inner trigram Kan (Water) and outer trigram Xun (Wind), this wind-water interaction signifies the dissemination of governmental decrees. The hexagram statement mentions "the king approaches his ancestral temple," indicating the ruler maintains centrality and correctness through ritual observance. Like the North Star remaining steadfast while other stars revolve around it, when the king issues commands from this centered position, the people naturally follow. Even formidable obstacles like great rivers can be safely crossed.

The line interpretations reveal:

The initial six yin line suggests using strong horses to rescue from peril, bringing good fortune through timely response. The second nine yang line advises seeking refuge during dispersion to eliminate regret. The third six yin line shows personal dispersion without error, as one's aspirations extend outward. The fourth six yin line paradoxically reveals great fortune in dispersing groups through righteous openness. The fifth nine yang line describes the king issuing major decrees like sweat naturally flowing forth, maintaining proper position without fault. The top nine yang line shows dispersion's harm receding, enabling avoidance of calamity.

Notably, though symbolizing dispersion, true kings need not personally scatter (issue commands). Like Emperor Shun entrusting governance to capable ministers like Yu the Great while maintaining courtly composure, when ministers transmit decrees like wind over water, the ruler governs effortlessly from the center. Thus "the king's dwelling in dispersion incurs no blame" – when properly positioned, the ruler remains faultless despite external fluctuations, like smoothly crossing a river by boat.

This passage primarily explains the symbolic meanings of the "Huan" (Dispersion) and "Jie" (Restraint) hexagrams from the Yijing (Book of Changes).

The Huan hexagram describes a state of dispersion and fluid movement. The fourth yao (six-four line) represents the key to governing dispersion, while the fifth yao (nine-five line) facilitates its smooth development. If those in high positions receive rewards without merit, it invites misfortune—hence the need to distance oneself from danger. Dispersion resembles water flowing downward or wind brushing against one's face, representing a naturally occurring state. The initial six-yao line uses the metaphor of a weak horse to illustrate insufficient strength, requiring external assistance for auspicious outcomes. The nine-two yao resembles riding a wooden raft—one must seize the opportune moment to act, or face regret. The entire Huan hexagram symbolizes the wisdom of natural flow and following circumstances, akin to the legendary rulers Yao finding Shun, and Shun finding Yu as virtuous ministers.

The Jie hexagram conveys the principle of moderation and restraint. Proper restraint brings prosperity, but excessive restriction leads to hardship. Just as heaven and earth operate through the measured alternation of seasons, human society requires established norms and systems. A noble person should institute rituals and laws while assessing moral cultivation. The initial nine-yao line states, "Not going beyond the courtyard gate incurs no blame," meaning cautious action and avoiding rashness prevents fault. The essence of restraint lies in finding balance—neither excessive indulgence nor undue restriction.

Both hexagrams embody the Yijing's philosophy of Yin-Yang equilibrium and alignment with nature. Huan emphasizes fluid transformation, while Jie highlights structured restraint. Though seemingly opposite, they complement each other as inherent patterns of cosmic operation.

This passage explains the principle of the “Limitation” hexagram in the Book of Changes, focusing on how to find the right measure between restraint and free passage.

“Limitation” is like regulating water as it flows into a lake (Dui, the Marsh): too much freedom leads to flooding, while too much restraint leaves the lake dry. The six lines of the hexagram reveal how to respond in different circumstances.

The first line says, “Do not go out beyond the courtyard gate,” pointing to the need to understand the boundary between inside and outside. But the second line, “Do not go out beyond the outer gate,” spells danger, because it means missing the right moment. The third line sighs because weakness prevents it from exercising restraint; the fourth finds things go well by accepting restraint; and the fifth willingly embraces restraint and is more auspicious still. At the very top, excessive restraint turns into bitter austerity and brings hardship.

The key lies in the ninth line in the fifth place, a strong line in the honored position, which symbolizes the need to regulate water when it flows freely. The second line in the second place, also a strong line in a central position, carries out the practical work of restraint. Their strength and yielding work together, like water and a lake: water (Kan, the Abysmal) must flow, while the lake (Dui, the Marsh) must hold it. If the second line fails to step forward when restraint is needed (“do not go out beyond the outer gate”), or if the top line restrains too much (“bitter restraint”), the natural order is disrupted.

The true way of restraint is to remain centered and upright, as the ninth line in the fifth place does: keep the water flowing freely (“esteem free passage”) while allowing the lake to remain sweet (“sweet restraint”). Forcibly blocking the flow (“sealing it off”) or being excessively frugal (“stinginess”) turns blessings into a bitter sea. That is why the hexagram’s judgment emphasizes that moderate restraint brings success, while excessive restraint invites danger.

This passage explains the principles of the "Jie Hexagram" (Moderation) and "Zhongfu Hexagram" (Inner Trust) from the Yijing (Book of Changes). First, regarding the Jie Hexagram: while moderation is inherently virtuous, excessive restraint can lead to opposite outcomes. Just as water (represented by the Kan trigram) flows naturally with inherent moderation, and the marsh (represented by the Dui trigram) embodies restraint by nature. The fourth line of the upper trigram states that peaceful moderation brings success because it follows the middle path of integrity; the first line of the lower trigram suggests that even without venturing out, understanding the Dao of advance and retreat ensures safety. There are five conditions for smoothness and two for obstruction—the key lies in mastering the balance of restraint.

In the appendix, Liu Yongxiang comments: Though moderation is a righteous path, turning it into asceticism is undesirable. People often mistake frugal austerity for virtue—who would recognize it as hardship and regret it? This hexagram combines firmness and yielding, taking one yielding line from the Kun (Earth) hexagram to form the Dui marsh in the upper position of the lower trigram, and one firm line from the Qian (Heaven) hexagram to form the Kan water in the central position of the upper trigram.

Next is the Zhongfu Hexagram (symbolizing sincerity and trust), with the lower trigram Dui (marsh) and upper trigram Xun (wind). Sincerity can transform all things—even piglets and small fish benefit from it, aiding in crossing great rivers and aligning with the Dao of Heaven. The imagery of wind over the marsh (Xun as wind) illustrates this: a noble person, embodying this hexagram's spirit, adjudicates legal cases with leniency.

The initial nine line states: Maintaining sincerity brings good fortune; wavering brings unease. The second nine line uses the metaphor of a crane calling from the shade and its fledgling responding—symbolizing shared purpose. The third six line describes encountering an opponent: one may either fight fervently or withdraw, weep or sing, reflecting the instability caused by an improper position.

The Six in the Fourth place says: “As the moon nears fullness, the horses are lost, but there is no calamity.” The Commentary on the Image explains that the horses are lost because ties with their own kind have been severed; this allows them instead to advance upward.

The Nine in the Fifth place says: “With sincerity in the heart, all are bound closely together. There is no error.” The Commentary on the Image points out that this state of sincere unity comes from occupying a proper and fitting position.

The Nine at the Top says: “A cock’s crow reaches the heavens; it seems auspicious, but is in fact ominous.” The Commentary on the Image warns: “How could such a boastful cry last?”

When Zhang Zai explained the Wind over Lake hexagram, Zhongfu (Inner Sincerity), he said: The upper trigram, Xun (Wind), gives downward; the lower trigram, Dui (Lake), receives gladly. A transforming influence must arise between them. The original meaning of the character fu is a bird hatching eggs, which embodies the principle that life must come into being. When a mother bird hatches her eggs, only genuine sincerity—inner sincerity—can transform the chicks; likewise, only the chicks’ sincerity can elicit a response to their mother. Thus, “Zhongfu is favorable for steadfastness in the right course” expresses accord with the Way of Heaven.

If one has only an empty reputation and no substance, one is like the cock’s cry in the Nine at the Top: though it reaches the heavens, how could the Way of Heaven be moved by it? That is why the text uses the image, “The crane calls in the shade of a tree; its young answer. I have fine wine to share with you,” to portray a state of harmony between those above and below, in which gain and loss are forgotten. This vision follows the same tradition as the Airs and Odes of the Book of Songs: the Sage’s feelings are fully revealed through words.

The sincere unity of the Nine in the Fifth place is worthy of praise, but the key is that the Nine in the Second place, symbolizing a minister, responds genuinely to the ruler, the Nine in the Fifth. Both are firm and occupy central positions. A firm heart is genuine, and what is genuine can transform others. At first glance, the yielding quality of the inner trigram, the lower trigram, may seem empty and incapable of transforming anything. Yet the subtlety of Zhongfu lies precisely here: though yielding within, it is firm and balanced on the outside. Through harmony and humility, it naturally brings forth the power to transform, even to educate a whole state.

Without genuine sincerity to answer the ruler, even someone as firm as the Nine at the Top can only make a show of strength. Conversely, with a sincere response, even someone as yielding as the Six in the Fourth place can accomplish something as the moon approaches fullness—a metaphor for the moment when circumstances ripen. Hence it is said: “Zhongfu can move even pigs and fish; it is favorable to cross the great river.” The Six in the Third and Fourth places lie within the hexagram, symbolizing things insubstantial and adrift, like pigs and fish or an empty boat. The Six in the Fourth place was originally close to the Six in the Third as one of its own kind, but the Six in the Third occupies an improper position in the lower trigram Dui, leading it to fluctuate between sorrow and joy and to behave without restraint.

This passage primarily elucidates the symbolic relationships and philosophical implications of the "Zhongfu" hexagram (symbolizing sincerity) from the Book of Changes (Yijing).

The fourth line, due to its improper position, loses resonance with its kindred lines and can only attach itself upward to the fifth line. The fifth line, having received the transformative power of sincerity from the fourth line, thereby avoids misfortune. Here, the metaphor of "piglets and fish" (representing humble creatures) illustrates how sincerity can influence even the lowliest beings.

Within the hexagram's structure, the two yin lines in the center create a hollow image (central emptiness), resembling a wooden boat crossing a great river. The fifth line occupies the honored position, like a crane calling from the heavens, while the second line responds like a fledgling answering its parent. When sincerity reaches its ultimate expression, even entire states can be transformed—at this stage, distinctions between firmness and yielding, emptiness and fullness, become irrelevant.

The initial yang line (Chujiu), as the hexagram's starting point, prefers maintaining its joyful state rather than blindly following others. It awaits resonance from the second line like burning incense to welcome guests. Ultimately, the fifth line completely transforms all things, including even the yielding nature of piglets and fish.

The appendix, as explained by Wang Ji (a Ming dynasty scholar), interprets: The Zhongfu hexagram combines Xun (Wind) above and Dui (Lake) below, symbolizing how the noble person emulates heaven and earth's virtue of nurturing life. When adjudicating legal cases, one should deliberate repeatedly, postponing capital punishment to allow offenders opportunities for reform. Just as Emperor Shun exercised caution in punishments, Yu the Great wept for criminals, Tang of Shang opened his hunting nets on three sides, and King Wen of Zhou buried exposed bones—only heartfelt sincerity can move heaven, earth, and spirits. Legal judgments should undergo multiple reviews by the king, the Three Dukes, and the Minister of Justice, with ten days of careful deliberation.

Note: The terms "Gou," "Bo," and "Daxu" mentioned are all hexagram names from the Yijing; "Six in the fifth place" refers to the yin line in the fifth position; "castrated pig" indicates neutered swine; and "cock's crow" denotes a rooster's cry—all metaphors demonstrating how sincerity can transform all things.

This passage discusses the "Minor Surpassing" hexagram (Hexagram 62) from the Book of Changes (Yijing), composed of Gen (Mountain) below and Zhen (Thunder) above, symbolizing minor excesses. The general meaning is that while minor excesses are permissible in small matters, one must exercise caution in significant affairs.

The hexagram statement indicates that Minor Surpassing signifies success, being suitable for minor affairs but unsuitable for major ones. Like the lingering cry of a flying bird, it's inauspicious to soar upward but auspicious to descend—this brings great fortune. The commentary explains that minor excesses can paradoxically bring success when properly timed. The yielding lines occupying central positions (referring to the second and fifth lines) bring good fortune in small matters, while the strong lines lacking proper position (third and fourth lines) make major undertakings inadvisable. The bird imagery reminds us that ascending goes against the current while descending follows it.

The Great Image adds: Thunder over the mountain symbolizes Minor Surpassing. The noble person thus understands that behavior may show slight reverence, mourning may display moderate grief, and expenditures may demonstrate reasonable frugality—these are all acceptable forms of "minor surpassing."

The line interpretations reveal:

The first yin line warns that a bird flying upward brings misfortune, showing the danger of going against the current.

The second yin line suggests that missing one's grandfather but meeting the grandmother, or failing to see the ruler but encountering the minister, involves no blame—indicating one shouldn't force matters excessively.

The third yang line cautions that inadequate precautions may lead to harm, emphasizing preventive measures.

The fourth yang line advises maintaining propriety without excess, remaining vigilant when encountering situations and avoiding prolonged stubbornness.

The fifth yin line uses "dense clouds without rain" as a metaphor for brewing situations, requiring the caution of a prince hunting in caves.

The top yin line warns that forcing excess where none is encountered resembles a bird flying into a net—this is courting disaster.

In summary, this hexagram shows four yin lines in proper position (first, second, fifth, and top) and two yang lines out of position (third and fourth), hence "Minor Surpassing." When timing and positioning align in minor matters, some excess is permissible. However, one must remember: excess should serve steadfast virtue and keep pace with the times. When circumstances are right, yielding and maintaining centrality bring good fortune in small matters. But for truly significant undertakings, one must rely on yang strength—if the strong lose their proper position and centrality, even talent cannot accomplish great deeds. Thus this hexagram reminds us: flexibility suits small matters, while prudence is essential for great ones.

When someone who acts finds that they cannot accomplish an important matter through their own strength, they should treat worthy people with courtesy and hope for their help.

I believe that if such a person trusts they can keep to their proper place and understand the times, they can act in this way. Then, even if their position is low and their circumstances exceed what is proper, they can in fact prosper. This is why it says, “The small overstep and prosper”: it is because they keep to what is right.

But petty people of yielding nature cannot keep to their proper place or act in accord with the times, and they are unwilling to associate with people of firm, strong nature. Now the two yielding lines occupy the central, proper positions and bear the duties of ruler and minister. Yet the ones they treat with courtesy and join as companions are the two flying birds at the first and top lines. In this way, even if one or two isolated worthy men of firm, strong nature remain, they will naturally be so occupied with withdrawing and keeping clear that they have no time for anything else.

Thus, seeing the image of flying birds in this hexagram, the sage used it as a warning: “The flying bird leaves its cry behind.” He then explained: “It is not suitable to go upward; it is suitable to go downward. Great good fortune.” For a bird to fly upward goes against the current, while flying downward follows it; this is the general principle. To say that going downward is suitable and going upward is not may seem, on the surface, to be advice to oneself, but in fact it is advice to those two men of firm, strong nature. Yet must worthy men of firm, strong nature wait for petty people of yielding nature to tell them to leave before they lower their heads and withdraw? I fear that by the time the flying bird has gone, even if they want to leave, they may no longer be able to.

The first six, in the lowest position, yet eager to advance and rash in its actions, truly resembles a flying bird. So the sage uses the line statement to warn: it is a flying bird; though it has only just begun in a low position, the signs of danger have already taken shape. How much more so when it is linked to the other four yielding lines and clings to the top six? It has become a source of danger, and the situation is very difficult to reverse. Should those occupying the two firm, strong lines not withdraw in good time?

The nine in the fourth place corresponds to the first six, yet can avoid blame because it knows it has no strength to overcome its counterpart and ultimately chooses to treat it with goodwill. Still, where there is coming and going, there will be departure; where there is departure, there will be danger. How could one fail to be vigilant? Can there really be a situation in the world that remains dangerous forever and requires constant vigilance? Thus it says that going forward brings danger and requires caution, but that such a situation cannot last. Seen this way, it is better simply to take no action. With no action, there is naturally no danger; only without danger can one keep to what is right and remain secure for a long time.

Someone like the nine in the third place knows they cannot overcome their opponent, yet still does everything possible to defend against them. The top six will then think they are deliberately acting against it. What is more, this person overestimates their own strength and even tries to harm the other, as Chen Fan and Dou Wu did. I do not know what further dangers this might invite. Perhaps, under the circumstances of the Small Exceeding hexagram, the first six and the top six are close to one another and, through their power, receive important appointments…

This passage explains the relationship between ruler and minister, and the way to conduct oneself, through the hexagrams of the Classic of Changes. When Yang Qi is strong on the earth, a noble person should act with caution, considering each move as carefully as a chess player. The passage stresses that one should hold back rather than advance: the dark clouds represented by the Six in the Fifth Position rise but cannot meet the Yang Qi. Like dense clouds that bring no rain, they symbolize a ruler who stands high above the people yet cannot bring them benefit.

The text cites Duke Ai of Lu as an example. Some rulers, it says, fail to follow their ancestors and instead show their ministers excessive courtesy. Meanwhile, the Six in the Second Position, a Yin line symbolizing a minister, is overly cautious: it cannot surpass its ancestors and does not even fulfill the ruler’s proper duties. The sage deliberately uses the word “reach” rather than “surpass” to warn later generations that the bounds between ruler and minister must not be crossed.

The author compares such people to small insects in a cave: they know only how to catch small prey and do not understand the Dao of controlling a great dragon as it soars through the sky. Yin Qi cannot produce rain and dew without meeting Yang Qi, and Yin seeking Yin could never yield a statesman like Fu Yue, the worthy minister of the Shang dynasty. The Six at the Top represents excess carried to its extreme. It is cut off from the Third Line and cannot meet it, like a bird about to fly away—a sign of still greater danger.

The passage concludes that the First and Top Lines signify danger, while the Second and Fifth Lines are like puppets. Even a sage such as Confucius could hardly have changed the decline of Lu under Dukes Ding and Ai. It proposes three ways to conduct oneself: the best course is not to serve in office; the middle course is to take a minor post; the least favorable is to serve as minister of justice, in charge of criminal cases. Confucius retired after only three months in that office, and so managed to turn the situation around halfway.

In an appendix, Su Shi, whose courtesy name was Zizhan, adds that the Small Exceeding hexagram has the image of a flying bird. Its four Yin lines occupy the important positions, suggesting a situation in which Yin is strong and Yang is weak.

This passage primarily explains the "Ji Ji" hexagram (Water over Fire) from the Book of Changes and the meanings of its individual lines.

The "Ji Ji" hexagram depicts water above fire, symbolizing the completion of affairs. The hexagram statement indicates smooth progress at this stage, yet advises maintaining correctness only in minor matters. While auspicious at the outset, it ultimately leads to disorder. This resembles a bird in flight whose wings strive forward while its body holds them back, creating a relationship of mutual restraint.

Historical examples illustrate the importance of rectifying contemporary malpractices: Zheng Kaofu corrected the arrogance of Mo'ao, Gao Chai rectified Zai Yu's abbreviated mourning period, and Yanzi reformed Guan Zhong's extravagance. Though these corrections weren't perfect, they sufficiently addressed harmful trends.

Detailed line interpretations:

The initial nine-line describes dragging cart wheels and wetting one's tail (symbolizing cautious action), ensuring no misfortune. The second six-line suggests a woman losing her hair ornament needn't search for it, as it will return in seven days—this accords with the Middle Way. The third nine-line recounts Emperor Gaozong of Shang taking three years to conquer the Guifang tribe, demonstrating the danger of employing petty men. The fourth six-line warns of maintaining vigilance all day due to lingering doubts. The fifth nine-line compares sacrificial rituals between eastern and western neighbors, showing how the western neighbor's simpler offerings received greater blessings. The top six-line cautions against the peril of "wetting one's head" (reckless risk-taking), as such a state cannot endure.

The overarching message emphasizes heightened caution after success—maintaining vigilance, valuing modest achievements over grandiose ambitions, since major successes often breed chaos. Like remaining watchful after crossing a river, one should perpetually maintain the mindset of treading on thin ice.

This scripture employs the hexagram of "Ji Ji" (Completion) from the Book of Changes (a symbol representing the state of accomplished affairs) to expound on the profound wisdom of "retiring after achieving success." The Ji Ji hexagram consists of Li (Fire) below and Kan (Water) above, with fire beneath water symbolizing inner illumination held within. The text clarifies that true "completion" is not merely external achievement but must also entail an internally unobstructed and transparent state of mind. Only when both body and mind reach this fullness can the attainment be enduring.

The passage cites the story of King Wuding of the Shang dynasty (revered as Gaozong) and his campaign against the Guifang (a northern nomadic tribe): Even a ruler as virtuous as Wuding, mobilizing the vast resources of a great kingdom to subdue a smaller state, required three years to achieve victory, exhausting the nation’s strength. This illustrates how the pursuit of accomplishment can easily stir extravagance and indulgence, and once vigilance slackens, existing achievements may unravel. Just as in sacrificial rites, lavish offerings (grand sacrifices) to please the spirits are less effective than simple, timely rituals (modest sacrifices) in securing divine favor.

The topmost line (Sixth Yang) stands at the peak of the Kan hexagram (symbolizing danger), warning that becoming intoxicated with past successes ("soaking one’s head") is akin to drunkenness—a loss of clarity that inevitably leads to chaos. The admonition to "remain cautious all day" does not mean obsessing over trivial losses (such as fretting over tattered sleeves) but rather maintaining concern for the suffering of the people. True wisdom lies in knowing when to halt (stopping at the edge of danger), as excessive conservatism risks forfeiting what truly needs safeguarding.

Fang Shihua further elaborates that the Li hexagram (symbolizing dependence) carries connotations of armor and weaponry, hence the term "campaign"; the Third Yang line governs darkness with illumination, hence "Guifang." The deeper meaning of "remaining cautious all day" is to understand the balance between preservation and advancement—just as the state of Ji Ji balances water and fire, it requires inner radiance ("civilization within") to sustain it.

The “Already Fulfilled” and “Not Yet Fulfilled” hexagrams in the Book of Changes (Yijing) describe the different conditions that arise when things are complete or incomplete, and how to respond to each.

The “Already Fulfilled” hexagram, with Fire above and Water below, symbolizes a matter that has been completed. It is like neighbors to the east (associated with the Li trigram) and west (associated with the Kan trigram) depending on one another. At this point, one should remain modest and frugal and avoid insatiable greed in order to benefit over the long term. The hexagram statement says, “Good fortune at first, disorder at the end.” This means that a matter may seem to go smoothly just after its completion, but by the time it reaches the final line, the top six, it is like water spilling over once a vessel is full. If one cares only for drinking and merrymaking, joy will turn to sorrow. A junzi may drink to ease grief in difficult times or to relax while waiting for the right moment, but giving oneself over to pleasure after a matter is complete is wrong.

Yang Jian explains that “Already Fulfilled” means complete success. In this hexagram, the first, third, and fifth lines are firm yang lines, while the second, fourth, and top lines are yielding yin lines. Each occupies its proper place, with the honored ninth line in the fifth position above and the sixth line in the second position below corresponding to it. Firmness and yielding thus complement each other just right, which is why the text says “favorable to constancy”—favorable for holding to the right way. The character xu is interchangeable with ru, meaning a short garment; it also serves as a metaphor for something that, though complete, still requires careful upkeep.

The “Not Yet Fulfilled” hexagram, with Water above and Fire below, symbolizes a matter that remains unfinished. It is like a young fox crossing a river: just as it is close to succeeding, it wets its tail and loses all its progress. The image shows Fire and Water failing to mingle. At this point, the junzi should carefully distinguish the nature of things and find the right place for themselves. The lines offer these cautions: the first six, acting rashly, will wet its tail; the second nine brings good fortune by steadying the wheels of a cart, a metaphor for keeping the pace under control; the third six is out of place, so acting hastily brings danger; the fourth nine can achieve great things by holding to the right way; the fifth six has the radiance of a junzi and finds good fortune through sincerity; and the top nine, if it drinks to excess and wets its head, shows a lack of restraint.

Together, these two hexagrams teach that when a matter is complete, one should guard against pride and restlessness; when it is incomplete, one should proceed steadily and carefully. In either case, one must know when enough is enough. As with clothing, it should be neither too short, as when a matter is unfinished, nor worn out through neglect after completion. One should always maintain the middle way.

The “Before Completion” hexagram in the Classic of Changes describes the state of affairs before a task has succeeded. “Before Completion” means that the difficulty has not yet been crossed. If one rushes toward success at this point, one is like a child who does not understand danger and acts recklessly. It is like a little fox trying to cross a river, only to wet its tail and make matters worse. Consider Fu Jian in history, who camped with an army of a million beside the Fei River and, while still in danger, rashly tried to cross. Was that not a failure to understand danger?

The Nine in the Second Place understands this principle, so it holds back the chariot wheel instead of hurrying across the river. The line statement says this is right and auspicious. The Six in the Third Place is close to leaving danger—the Kan trigram represents danger—but has not yet escaped it completely, so setting out on a campaign at this point would also be inauspicious. Above it, however, is the Nine in the Fourth Place, which represents light. The Six in the Fifth Place, the ruler’s position, trusts the Nine in the Fourth Place, so the Nine in the Fourth Place leads the troops into battle. Though the Six in the Third Place does not set out itself, the overall situation can thus pass through the difficulty.

This shows that where there is a wise ruler, there will be worthy ministers; and where there are worthy ministers, things can be accomplished. What seems not yet to have succeeded will, in the end, succeed of itself. That is why the “Before Completion” hexagram says “success”: even at a stage when success seems out of reach, people capable of getting things done, ministers able to offer support, and the right moment for success will naturally appear.

The Six in the Fifth Place, the ruler’s position, can be “steadfast and auspicious, with no regret” because its heart is bright and upright—the Li trigram represents light. The radiance of such a ruler’s De (virtue) influences the ministers, represented by the Nine in the Fourth Place, bringing good fortune. A ruler’s De is like sunlight: it must shine out. When such a bright ruler is present in a time before completion, it is hard not to succeed.

From this we can see that the sage’s way of dealing with the world is, in a sense, as composed each day as if everything were already complete—as if in the state of “After Completion.”

This passage explores the dialectical relationship between the "Ji Ji" (Completion) and "Wei Ji" (Incompletion) hexagrams from the Yijing (Book of Changes), revealing their profound philosophical implications for human life.

No day in life exists outside the state of "Wei Ji" (incompletion), nor is there any moment that doesn't require continued effort. Precisely because of this, people constantly harbor aspirations to complete things. As soon as sorrow arrives, joy may follow; when joy appears, sorrow arises again. This cyclical alternation between worry and delight is precisely why sages exert themselves diligently, forgetting the approach of old age. Thus, when viewing "Ji Ji" and "Wei Ji" together, we grasp the fundamental principle of the Yijing.

The Qian hexagram emphasizes ceaseless self-strengthening—working diligently all day and remaining vigilant at night. This principle holds profound meaning. Those who indulge in wine and pleasure, becoming complacent in their success, believe matters are settled and relax their efforts. They fail to recognize that the state of "Wei Ji" follows immediately. Such people embody what the sages described as incapable of endurance or seeing things through properly. When rulers behave this way, kingdoms fall; when ministers act thus, families ruin; for commoners, it brings self-harm; for scholars, it means losing their aspirations. Throughout history, who has escaped this pattern?

Fang Shihua explains: When a fox crosses the river (represented by the Kan trigram symbolizing water), it hasn't completed the crossing until reaching the opposite bank (the Li trigram symbolizing fire). Therefore, the Yijing states that "Wei Ji" achieves smooth progress through the yielding line finding its central position (referring to the sixth five line in the outer Li trigram), while the "little fox nearly crossing" indicates not yet fully escaping danger (the initial six line in the inner Kan trigram).

The same matter requires caution during "Ji Ji" to prevent three years of exhaustion, while "Wei Ji" demands vigorous action to secure rewards after three years. "Ji Ji" warns against unnecessary complications, whereas "Wei Ji" favors merit-building. Both the fifth line (sovereign position) and fourth line (minister position) in the Li trigram emphasize that only by holding to the correct path can one attain auspiciousness without regret. The top nine line's capacity for enjoyment entirely depends on the sixth five line's sincerity. Within the great undertaking of "Ji Ji," temporary feasting brings no harm, but indulgence (symbolized by "drenched head") mirrors the top six line of "Ji Ji"—certain to bring failure. Didn't Emperor Xuanzong of Tang and others exemplify rapid success followed by swift collapse?

Liu Yongxiang observes: Heaven generates water through its primal unity, Earth generates fire through its dual nature—water and fire represent heaven and earth's most essential functions. The Qian and Kun hexagrams conclude with Kan and Li (water and fire). With Kan-water below and Li-fire above, though both possess heaven-earth's functional capacity, they cannot practically interact. The Xian and Heng hexagrams end with Li and Kan. When water ascends and fire descends, Kan and Li commune—thus the heart finds stability, the body maintains health, and nations achieve peace. What then remains unaccomplished? This constitutes heaven-earth's ultimate principle—how could there exist any path that begins auspiciously but ends in chaos? That the Yijing concludes with "Wei Ji"—is this not profoundly appropriate?

This passage interprets the lines "Six in the Third Place" and "Six in the Fifth Place" from the Book of Changes' Weiji hexagram (symbolizing incomplete states). Several scholars analyze the deeper meanings of these line images from different perspectives.

Wu Youqing (a Yuan dynasty Yijing scholar) points out that although all lines in the Weiji hexagram are in inappropriate positions, the Xiangzhuan (Commentary on the Images) particularly emphasizes the Six in the Third Place because its yin-softness (symbolizing gentle strength) is situated in an extremely perilous situation. Wang Bi (a Three Kingdoms-period classicist) argues that while the Nine in the Second Place is improperly positioned, it remains centered and follows the correct path. The Six in the Fifth Place, on the other hand, is gentle yet discerning, occupying a noble position—it excels at employing the worthy without being domineering. Governing military force with civil virtue (De) and mastering strength with flexibility, this embodies the radiance of a noble person. Trusting others' abilities without suspicion ensures that people will exhaust their efforts, and accomplishments will naturally follow—hence the saying, "With sincerity, there is good fortune."

Yang Wanli (a Southern Song poet) further elaborates: The Six in the Fifth Place exists in the chaotic era of Weiji yet responds with yin-soft skill. It attains good fortune first by adhering to the correct path, then again through sincere trustworthiness, and a third time through the brilliance of its virtue (De). Why is this? Because the Six in the Fifth Place embodies the nature of the Li hexagram (symbolizing brightness). Li represents the sun in heaven and fire on earth—the summer sun appears more scorching, and a nighttime bonfire shines even brighter. With its flourishing civilization and humble discernment of officials, the Six in the Fifth Place sincerely and steadfastly trusts its virtuous ministers. Thus, it naturally transforms great difficulties into a world without hardship, turning the predicament of Weiji into the prosperous age of Jiji (the completed state). Possessing this threefold blessing of good fortune without regret—what doubt could remain?

Through analogies between natural phenomena and human affairs, this analysis reveals leadership wisdom in adversity: overcoming strength with gentleness and treating others with sincerity.