《漢丞相諸葛忠武侯集》Vol. 7

This commentary gathers evaluations of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) from multiple ancient scholars, showcasing the extraordinary character and political acumen of the Shu Han chancellor.

Xi Zuochi compares Zhuge Liang to the renowned Spring and Autumn statesman Guan Zhong, noting that while Guan Zhong's confiscation of the Bo family's fief without provoking resentment was already remarkable, Zhuge Liang's dismissal of officials like Liao Li and Li Yan not only failed to incite bitterness but even moved them to tears and lifelong loyalty. Just as still water and a clear mirror reflect things impartially without causing resentment, it was precisely because they harbored no personal bias. Zhuge Liang enforced strict laws yet won genuine compliance because he upheld the benevolent principle of valuing life and the Dao of forgiveness, resorting to punishment only when necessary and targeting only actual offenders. Such impartial fairness naturally earned the trust of the people.

Su Shi (Dongpo) particularly admired Zhuge Liang’s Former and Later Memorials on the Expedition, considering these writings concise, upright, and forthright without being overbearing. Their lofty moral standard, he argued, rivaled classics like the Instructions of Yi and Charge to Yue from the Book of Documents, far surpassing the sycophantic writings of courtiers from the Qin and Han dynasties onward.

Yang Shi (Master Guishan), when comparing Zhuge Liang to the Tang dynasty chancellor Lu Zhi (Duke Xuan), observed that Zhuge Liang possessed a grander demeanor. He cited Zhuge Liang’s diplomatic persuasiveness in convincing Sun Quan to ally against Cao Cao—a skill so refined that even professional rhetoricians felt inadequate. Though Lu Zhi might have been more meticulous in administrative details, Zhuge Liang was equally thorough—personally inspecting everything from bridges and roads to military camp latrines, even ensuring no drunkards roamed the streets. Yet his rigor carried an air of unyielding dignity.

Luo Dajing (a scholar from Luling) especially praised Zhuge Liang’s attitude of "my heart is like a balance scale," seeing it as an impartial fairness approaching the natural order. At such a level, one could govern like heaven and earth nurturing all things—where the punished bear no resentment, the favored feel no personal debt, and trust is earned without forced effort. He believed Du Fu’s verse "Between him and Yi Yin or Lü Shang, there is but a hair’s breadth" (placing Zhuge Liang alongside legendary ministers Yi Yin and Lü Shang) truly captured his spirit. Addressing those who questioned why Zhuge Liang was also compared to Xiao He and Cao Can, Luo explained it was regret over his unfinished legacy—had he completed his grand mission, even these famed chancellors might have paled in comparison.

The Henan scholar Cheng Hao (styled Mingdao) commented on Zhuge Liang, saying: Zhuge Liang possessed the talent to assist a ruler, but did not fully attain the standard of a sage-king. A true sage-king should be as selfless as heaven and earth—even if committing one unrighteous act could gain him the empire, he would not do it. Zhuge Liang seized Liu Zhang's Yizhou to achieve his ambitions, whereas a true sage would rather forgo such success. However, when Liu Biao's son Liu Cong was about to be swallowed by Cao Cao, taking his territory to revive the Han dynasty would have been permissible.

Cheng Hao analyzed that if Zhuge Liang had not died, he could have conquered Wei within three years. Sima Yi (Xuanwang), whose suppressed ambition found no outlet, would likely have succumbed to depression and died soon after. Regarding the Battle of Wuzhang Plains, Sima Yi's claim of "being powerless" was merely a pretext to stabilize morale. Liu Bei had personally surveyed Wuzhang's terrain and deemed it unsuitable for garrisoning troops, showing that even the words of heroic figures should not be taken as absolute truth.

When asked whether Zhuge Liang could have restored the ritual-music system if he had lived, Cheng Hao replied: Restoring rituals and music is uncertain, but Zhuge Liang did approach the realm of assisting a sage-king. As for seizing Liu Zhang's land, it was indeed a grave mistake—though done to secure a foothold, how could one justify capturing a host who offered territory in good faith? This was pure calculation of profit. A noble person should cease any action that violates righteousness—how could they act expediently?

Regarding King Tang of Shang's strategy of "annexing the weak and attacking the benighted," Cheng Hao explained: Annexing the weak does not mean swallowing them but helping them develop together; attacking the benighted, quelling the rebellious, and punishing the fallen are the proper way.

Cheng Hao maintained that Zhuge Liang truly had the talent to assist a sage-king. When challenged—"If Zhuge Liang was such talent, why did he remain confined to Shu and fail to unify the empire?"—Cheng Hao clarified: Zhuge Liang had planned to attack Wei the following year and pacify the realm within a few years, but heaven denied him the time. He once told Sun Jue that Zhuge Liang had Confucian qualities, to which Sun Jue retorted that sages would not preserve one state at the cost of many lives. Cheng Hao countered: Killing indiscriminately for personal gain is wrong, but campaigning against rebels for the people's welfare, even with considerable bloodshed, is justified.

This passage examines the historical assessment and moral character of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming). Several key perspectives are presented:

When Confucius sought to punish the regicide Chen Heng, it wasn't that he could guarantee no casualties, but rather a necessary action to eliminate rebellion for the greater good. Similarly, the Shu Han dynasty during the Three Kingdoms period claimed legitimacy in restoring the Han precisely because of its pure intentions.

An Zishun proposed a famous observation: those unmoved to tears when reading Zhuge Liang's "Memorial on the Expedition" (Chushi Biao) lack loyalty; those unmoved by Li Mi's "Memorial Expressing My Feelings" (Chenqing Biao) lack filial piety; those unmoved by Han Yu's "Elegy for My Nephew Shi'erlang" lack fraternal love. This demonstrates how Zhuge Liang's loyalty could profoundly move readers.

Analyzing military capability, Zhu Fu noted: During the Wuzhang Plains campaign, Zhuge Liang implemented both benevolence and discipline, maintaining perfect harmony between soldiers and civilians. Had he not died prematurely, Sima Yi (courtesy name Zhongda) could never have prevailed against him. Sima Yi was no match for Zhuge Liang whatsoever.

Regarding Zhuge Liang's self-comparison to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, Zhu Fu considered this actually modest. Zhuge Liang's talents equaled those of the Shang dynasty's exemplary minister Yi Yin, though their historical circumstances differed. Both experienced reclusive periods (Yi Yin farmed at Youxin, Zhuge Liang at Nanyang), both required multiple invitations before serving (King Tang summoned Yi Yin three times, Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang thrice), and both shouldered responsibility for the realm.

The passage particularly emphasizes: Zhuge Liang's brothers served different Three Kingdoms states yet weren't considered traitors; his advice for Liu Bei to seize Yizhou wasn't later viewed as avaricious; his regency for the orphaned ruler never became autocratic. These parallels with Yi Yin's assistance to Kings Tang and Taijia reveal the true qualities of virtuous chancellors.

Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) maintained control over Shu Han for twelve years without incurring imperial suspicion precisely because he consistently upheld grand principles rather than personal gain. As Mencius once said of Yi Yin (the virtuous minister of the Shang dynasty): even if offered the wealth of the entire world, he wouldn't cast a glance at anything that violated righteousness (Yi).

During his reclusive years in Nanyang's thatched cottage, Zhuge Liang sustained himself through farming, spending his days chanting poetry and classical texts, utterly indifferent to fame and fortune. His decision to assist Liu Bei stemmed purely from the noble cause of restoring the Han dynasty and saving the people—never from a desire for wealth or status. It was this purity of purpose that enabled him to achieve three things: resisting the temptations of power without wavering in his principles, never betraying his lord for personal gain, and avoiding any action contrary to righteousness.

The Southern Song scholar Hu Yigui (also known as Shuanghu) analyzed that Liu Bei (posthumously titled Emperor Zhaolie), as a descendant of the Han imperial family, had the rare fortune of being aided by a top-tier talent like Zhuge Liang. Zhuge Liang likened himself to legendary ministers like Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, while Guan Yu and Zhang Fei served as fierce generals, Fa Zheng (courtesy name Xiaozhi) as chief strategist, and other versatile figures like Jiang Wan (courtesy name Gongyan), Ma Chao (courtesy name Mengqi), Huang Zhong (courtesy name Hansheng), and Pang Tong (courtesy name Shiyuan) each fulfilled their roles. With such an exceptional lineup, the restoration of the Han dynasty should have been achievable—so why did they ultimately end up confined to Shu?

The problem lay in Shu-Wu relations. Zhuge Liang originally advocated "allying with Wu to resist Wei," but after Wu seized Jing Province and executed Guan Yu, Shu Han's hatred toward Wu ran too deep. Liu Bei's decision to launch the Battle of Yiling (also called the Battle of Xiaoting) for revenge ended in disastrous defeat at Baidi City. This strategic miscalculation—sacrificing the greater good for a lesser grievance—left Shu Han incapable of facing Cao Wei alone. Though Emperor Liu Shan lacked talent, under Zhuge Liang's guidance he still managed to appoint capable officials, streamline bureaucracy, and govern transparently. Yet the earlier strategic errors proved irreversible.

This passage recounts the governance and military strategies of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming), the chancellor of Shu Han during the Three Kingdoms period. When governing Shu, Zhuge Liang implemented clear rewards and punishments, maintaining strict social order. Even public facilities like bridges, roads, wells, and toilets were meticulously maintained. Leading the Northern Expeditions, he stationed troops in Hanzhong, where he cultivated farmland and trained soldiers. He invented the "wooden ox and flowing horse" (transport vehicles) and the "Eight Formation Diagram" (a tactical battle formation), spending three years in preparation before launching his campaigns. Later, he allied with Eastern Wu to attack Wei, establishing farmland in Weinan for prolonged warfare. However, Sima Yi held his ground and refused battle, and Zhuge Liang ultimately passed away from illness in the army.

The text highlights two particularly moving episodes: First, during the Battle of Mianzhu, Shu officials demonstrated unwavering loyalty to their ruler unto death, a testament to Zhuge Liang's exemplary leadership. Second, when Chengdu surrendered, Liu Chen, Prince of Beidi and grandson of Liu Bei, chose death over surrender. After weeping and offering sacrifices at Liu Bei's temple, he killed his wife and children before taking his own life. Zhu Xi (styled Huiweng) remarked that Zhuge Liang's military campaigns were marked by calm deliberation, in stark contrast to the impetuousness of Fu Jian. He believed that, since the Three Dynasties, Zhuge Liang was the only one who truly acted on moral principles (Dao and De). Others, like Wei Zheng (Duke of Wei and Zheng), inevitably calculated gains and losses—only sage-kings like Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou could match Zhuge Liang's unwavering commitment to righteousness.

In the text, "Zhaolie" refers to Liu Bei (posthumous title Emperor Zhaolie), the "wooden ox and flowing horse" were transport tools invented by Zhuge Liang, and the "Eight Formation Diagram" was his renowned battle formation. By contrasting Zhuge Liang's composed military style with Fu Jian's rashness, Zhu Xi emphasized the importance of calm determination and praised Zhuge Liang's transcendent moral character, which surpassed the norms of his era.

This passage compiles evaluations and discussions of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming, posthumous title Marquis Zhongwu) by multiple scholars, focusing on his political character and historical significance.

Zhu Xi (Zhu Huiweng) argues that when Zhuge Liang lost three commanderies, his inability to relocate all civilians wasn't due to lack of will but practical constraints. Like someone threatened by wolves, the Wei state's brutality toward border populations likely exceeded present standards. Zhuge Liang wasn't an opportunist—his evacuation efforts embodied Liu Bei's (Emperor Zhaolie) principle of never abandoning the people.

Regarding Zhuge Liang marrying an unattractive wife, Zhu Xi identifies this as evidence of his ascetic temperament. Such self-discipline, he contends, enhanced both his wisdom and authority. Zhang Shi (Nanxuan) and Cheng Yi (Jinsilu) explore an intriguing question: Why did Wang Tong (Master Wenzhong) expect Zhuge Liang to restore ritual music? They argue that Zhuge Liang's innate integrity coupled with classical erudition would have made his governance surpass Han-Tang statesmen in peaceful times.

The scholars debate Zhuge Liang's self-comparison to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi. Some doubt even a successful Han restoration could achieve Three Dynasties-level ritual systems. But Zhang Shi counters that Zhuge Liang's moral stature transcended such figures—his declaration that "Han and traitors cannot coexist" and "exhausting all efforts" practice revealed timeless character.

Notably, the text mentions Zhuge Liang advising Liu Bei to seize Jing and Yi provinces while teaching Legalist texts to Liu Shan (Later Emperor), sparking controversy over these "pragmatic methods." Zhang Shi maintains such expediencies don't diminish Zhuge Liang's nobility, as his spiritual attainment surpassed worldly measures of success.

This passage examines Zhuge Liang's (the Marquis of Zhongwu) political ideals and historical legacy. The author contends that Zhuge Liang possessed the same political vision as Shao Kang (the restorer of the Xia dynasty) — had he lived during the eras of Duke Huan of Qi or King Zhao of Yan, he would undoubtedly have achieved greater accomplishments. During the Jianxing era (the reign period of Shu Han's Liu Shan), Zhuge Liang implemented policies emphasizing agricultural development, military training, and domestic governance, appointing capable officials like Guo Youzhi. His statecraft was principled and transparent, far removed from petty stratagems or underhanded schemes.

The author criticizes Chen Shou (compiler of Records of the Three Kingdoms) for providing overly terse accounts that fail to capture the essence of Zhuge Liang's governance and military strategies. Furthermore, the author challenges the conventional historiography that uses Cao Wei's reign titles to continue the chronology after Emperor Xian of Han, arguing that Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) legitimately preserved Han dynastic legitimacy in Shu until its final collapse.

Zhang Nanxuan (the Southern Song Confucian scholar Zhang Shi) observes: Since the era of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period, utilitarian thinking had dominated politics. Yet Zhuge Liang, amid the chaos following Cao Wei's usurpation of Han, steadfastly upheld the principle that "Han and traitors cannot coexist" while assisting Liu Bei and his successor. His devotion to "exhausting all efforts until death" paralleled the virtuous ministers of the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang, Zhou). Regardless of ultimate success or failure, this unwavering commitment to righteousness without regard for personal gain constitutes Zhuge Liang's most admirable quality.

(Notes: Shao Kang was the restorer of the Xia dynasty; Duke Huan of Qi and King Zhao of Yan were renowned rulers of the Spring and Autumn and Warring States periods; Zhaolie refers to Liu Bei; Jianxing was the reign era of Shu Han's Liu Shan; Chen Shou authored Records of the Three Kingdoms; Pei Songzhi compiled its annotations; Zhang Nanxuan was the courtesy name of Southern Song Neo-Confucian scholar Zhang Shi)

Zhuge Liang (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu), though passing away before fulfilling his mission to restore the Han dynasty, upheld the state and rectified human virtue, reviving the benevolent ways of ancient sage-kings. His spirit shines eternally like the sun and moon for posterity. The most vital principles between heaven and earth are the Three Bonds (ruler-subject, father-child, husband-wife) and Five Constants (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, faithfulness) – the very foundations distinguishing Chinese civilization from barbarians, and humans from beasts. Those who indulge in profit-seeking while violating heavenly principles cannot maintain power long, even if they possess the realm. This explains why Zhuge Liang remained steadfast in his campaign against usurpers until his dying breath.

During chaotic times, Zhuge Liang lived in seclusion at Longzhong until Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie), as imperial descendant, visited him thrice. His decision to serve already revealed extraordinary discernment. Governing with emphasis on foundational institutions rather than quick results, commanding armies with strict discipline rather than deceit – all his actions stemmed from selfless devotion without the slightest indulgence. These achievements remain unmatched by later generations. Reading his final "Memorial on Launching the Campaign," we witness how worldly temptations couldn't sway his resolve – profound cultivation naturally manifests in great words and deeds.

As Zengzi said, "A scholar must have lofty aspirations and steadfast determination" – Zhuge Liang embodied this ideal. Mencius' description of the "great man whom riches and honors cannot corrupt, poverty and obscurity cannot sway, power and force cannot subdue" fits none better. After Zhuge Liang's death, Shu commoners spontaneously made roadside sacrifices. Later Emperor Liu Shan established a temple at Mianyang (modern Shaanxi's Mian County) upon ministers' advice. Across millennia, temples throughout the former Shu-Han territories maintain continuous worship, testifying to his enduring legacy.

Hu Yin (alias Zhitang) commented: When Sima Yi claimed Zhuge Liang "commanded troops like a deity," it was merely an excuse masking his fear during the Wuzhangyuan standoff (modern Qishan, Shaanxi). Zhuge Liang's northern campaign embodied readiness to perish for his cause. Stationing troops deep in enemy territory yet facing no Wei attacks; implementing military farming without disturbing civilians – his conduct mirrored the benevolent "timely rain" armies of ancient sage-kings. Those criticizing his military skills gravely misunderstand history.

Hu Zhitang remarked that when people evaluate military commanders, they often lament that Sima Yi and Zhuge Liang never engaged in a decisive battle. This perspective only grasps superficial appearances without understanding the underlying principles. In truth, Zhuge Liang’s military deployment at Wuzhang Plains was of equal significance to the Battle of Red Cliffs.

At Red Cliffs, Cao Cao suffered a crushing defeat because the allied forces of Sun and Liu were numerous, the situation was volatile, and heaven favored Sun and Liu. Thus, Cao Cao’s 800,000-strong army was devastated by a fire attack, nearly annihilated—a victory that brought immense satisfaction. In contrast, at Wuzhang Plains, Zhuge Liang led his troops deep into enemy territory, establishing farms to store provisions. His military might was awe-inspiring, yet he remained composed. Sima Yi, though a cunning and capable strategist, was too fearful to engage and could only feign aggression. In the end, exhausted of schemes and strength, he humbly endured the humiliation of receiving women’s garments (referring to Zhuge Liang sending him feminine attire to provoke him), merely hoping for Zhuge Liang’s early death. In reality, even before battle, Sima Yi had already suffered a psychological collapse.

However, the Mandate of Heaven for the Han dynasty had expired, and Zhuge Liang passed away prematurely, so superficially it appeared as though Wei had triumphed over Shu. Even a discerning observer like Du Fu was deeply anguished by this. Had Zhuge Liang not died, not only might he have captured Sima Yi, but he likely would have swept through everything east of Chang’an like a storm. Only then could it truly be said that heaven willed it so. Zhuge Liang’s death signified that the Han dynasty’s restoration was ultimately impossible.

Success and failure hinge on moments in time, but the principles of right and wrong embedded within them endure for millennia without fading. Zhuge Liang’s loyalty, moral integrity, and military prowess remain worthy of deep reflection and emulation by later generations, capable of inspiring even the timid to rise with courage. In contrast, Cao Cao and Sima Yi seized power by bullying orphans and widows, manipulating political schemes—methods so base that even foreign tribes disdained to imitate them. What is praiseworthy about such fleeting, brute force? This demonstrates that the hearts of people, ancient and modern, are connected, and the principles of heaven remain constant. Those with aspirations should hold lofty ambitions and uphold righteousness, never yielding to the transient might of the world.

Hu Zhitang further noted: When Liu Bei sought refuge in Jingzhou (modern Hubei), he was fleeing southward with nowhere to settle amid the chaos of war. Sun Quan had already held Jiangdong for three generations. When Zhuge Liang persuaded Sun Quan to oppose Cao Cao, he said, "If Cao Cao is defeated, he will retreat northward. Then, the power of Jingzhou and Eastern Wu will grow, and the tripartite division of the realm will take shape." This was precisely the strategy of using Jingzhou as a foundation to establish the Three Kingdoms.

This passage primarily discusses the historical encounter between Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) and Liu Bei (courtesy name Xuande, posthumous title Emperor Zhaolie) during the Three Kingdoms period, along with later evaluations of their relationship.

When analyzing the political landscape for Liu Bei in his thatched cottage, Zhuge Liang pointed out that true heroes must not only perceive current affairs clearly but also understand celestial omens. The decades-long division of the realm could not be altered by human effort alone—both Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang had recognized this early on. While Liu Biao and Liu Zhang still clung to Jingzhou and Yizhou respectively, Zhuge Liang had already strategized to seize these territories, which later came to fruition. Had they not died prematurely, they would certainly have continued expanding their domain rather than passively awaiting their fate.

When the Wei forces pressed eastward, Sun Quan of Wu, realizing his precarious position, had no choice but to ally with Liu Bei against Wei. Although Liu Bei never ceased coveting Jingzhou, Sun Quan ultimately relinquished the territory to him.

Scholar Hu Zhitang of the Song Dynasty commented: The Sima clan (historians of Jin) deliberately undermined Liu Bei's legitimacy as heir to the Han dynasty by emphasizing his distant blood relation to Prince Jing of Zhongshan (Liu Sheng of Western Han) and the difficulty of verifying his lineage. Yet consider—while seven centuries separated Sima from the Three Kingdoms period, Zhuge Liang stood only three centuries removed from Prince Jing. When he first met Liu Bei in the thatched cottage and confirmed his status as "scion of the imperial house," could this have been without foundation? Contrast this with historical facts the Sima historians knowingly ignored: Qin Shi Huang being actually Lü Buwei's son, or Sima Rui of Langya being born to minor official Niu Jin. They praised Xun Yu, went easy on Cao Cao—claiming he took the realm from warlords rather than the Han house—yet subjected Liu Bei to relentless scrutiny, even recording Zhuge Liang's northern expeditions as "invasions" in their histories. Such bias is manifestly unjust.

Hu Zhitang further observed: The Three Kingdoms produced talents rarely matched in later ages, with Zhuge Liang standing preeminent among them. Su Shi's assessment that Zhuge Liang rivaled the great ministers of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties is entirely fitting. Zhuge Liang's self-comparison to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi was modest—measured against Zhang Liang, their merits become nearly indistinguishable. Yet virtuous scholars consistently revere Zhuge Liang more than Zhang Liang, a preference only the wise truly comprehend. Finally, Hu noted: Liu Bei actually demonstrated keener insight and decisiveness than Cao Cao, though this truth escapes most people's understanding.

This passage primarily recounts the deeds of Liu Bei, Zhuge Liang, and others during the Three Kingdoms period, along with later evaluations of them.

When Cao Cao occupied Jingzhou, although he gained talents like Han Song, Kuai Yue, and Wang Can, the truly first-rate figures all defected to Liu Bei. The ministers of Wu and Wei could not compare to Liu Bei's faction, which perhaps demonstrates Liu Bei's greater wisdom compared to Cao Cao.

Hu Zhitang commented that Zhuge Liang's pacification of Nanzhong (modern Yunnan) was his first major action after assisting Liu Shan. At that time, Liu Bei had just passed away, the young ruler was immature, and the state was unstable, with rebels like Yong Kai and Meng Huo causing chaos within Yizhou. Without employing forceful measures, it would have been impossible to intimidate others and prepare for the future recovery of the Central Plains. Thus, the seven captures and releases of Meng Huo were not merely to subdue him but also to lay the groundwork for the eventual Northern Expeditions and the elimination of the Han dynasty's enemies.

Some speculate that Liu Bei, on his deathbed, specifically instructed Zhuge Liang to assist Liu Shan out of fear that Zhuge Liang might usurp the throne. Hu Zhitang considered this suspicion to be the petty mindset of lesser men projecting onto noble individuals. Liu Bei possessed magnanimity, and his relationship with Zhuge Liang was both that of ruler and minister and of mentor and friend—a rare bond throughout history. How could it resemble the mutual distrust typical of common folk?

In contrast, Cao Cao, on his deathbed, was still arranging affairs for his wives and concubines and distributing clothing—his lifelong deceit and hypocrisy laid bare in his final moments. Liu Bei, however, spoke not a single selfish word before his death, their moral heights as distinct as weeds are from pine trees. Liu Bei instructed Liu Shan, saying, "Do not refrain from small acts of kindness, nor commit even minor misdeeds. Only virtue can win people's hearts." These words remain worthy of study by later generations.

Hu Zhitang concluded by stating that diligence is the virtue of sages and the conduct of noble individuals. Shun, Yu, King Wen of Zhou, and the Duke of Zhou were diligent in their high positions, while Confucius and Mencius remained diligent in adversity—just as celestial bodies move ceaselessly. How much more, then, should ordinary people strive with diligence.

This passage highlights the exemplary character and governing abilities of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) through comparative analysis of prominent figures from the Three Kingdoms period.

Beginning with the Eastern Jin general Tao Kan (styled Shixing), known for his diligent use of time, the text contrasts Cao Cao (styled Mengde), who advocated frugality but indulged in luxury in his later years, and Sun Quan (styled Zhongmou), who gradually neglected state affairs after middle age. Only Liu Bei (the First Ruler) and Zhuge Liang remained diligent and frugal throughout their lives—a virtue that not only secured their dominance during the Three Kingdoms era but also aligned them with the moral legacy of ancient sages.

The Song dynasty scholar Hu Zhitang praised Zhuge Liang highly, likening his cautious character to that of King Wen of Zhou. Despite wielding immense state power and commanding armies, Zhuge Liang steadfastly adhered to the duties of a minister, never overstepping his authority. Such noble conduct, the text suggests, would have shamed even Cao Cao had he known of it. The passage also refutes the claim that "Zhuge Liang excelled in governance but not in military strategy," arguing that had Heaven willed the restoration of the Han dynasty, his campaign through the Xie Valley could have defeated Cao Wei. Wei Yan’s risky tactics, it notes, were incompatible with Zhuge Liang’s methodical and prudent military principles.

Hu Zhitang further analyzes that Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang were equals in insight and talent, embodying the ideal pairing of a wise ruler and a capable minister. While Liu Bei demonstrated discernment in recognizing Zhuge Liang (the "Crouching Dragon"), he misjudged Jiang Wan and Pang Tong; similarly, Zhuge Liang excelled in employing talent but erred in appointing Ma Su, leading to the defeat at Jieting—proof of the inherent difficulty in assessing people. What stands out, however, is Zhuge Liang’s refusal to shield his own mistakes or show favoritism. His impartial enforcement of military law, even executing Ma Su without hesitation, earned the latter’s sincere acceptance—a level of integrity few could achieve.

The passage concludes with a critique by Yuan dynasty scholar Yin Qishen, who condemns Cao Cao for manipulating the emperor and murdering the empress, contrasting these atrocities with Zhuge Liang’s unwavering loyalty. Through multifaceted comparisons, the text illuminates Zhuge Liang’s political wisdom, military acumen, and moral grandeur as the archetypal virtuous chancellor.

This passage primarily examines the legitimacy of Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) inheriting the Han dynasty's orthodox succession during the Three Kingdoms period. The author refutes Chen Shou's approach in Records of the Three Kingdoms that recognized Cao Wei as the legitimate successor, arguing instead that Zhu Xi's Outline and Details of the Comprehensive Mirror was correct in affirming Liu Bei's inheritance of Emperor Xian of Han's orthodox position as the proper historical assessment.

The author provides detailed evidence of Liu Bei's imperial lineage: as a descendant of Liu Sheng, Prince Jing of Zhongshan, his ancestors were enfeoffed as Marquis of Lucheng Village in Zhuo County before losing the title and settling there. During their first meeting, Zhuge Liang addressed Liu Bei as "a scion of the imperial house," and later, when seeking Sun Quan's assistance, also referred to him as "a descendant of the royal lineage." Other figures like Zhang Song speaking to Liu Zhang and Fu Jian addressing Fu Rong similarly acknowledged Liu Bei's Han imperial bloodline. Thus, there is no doubt about Liu Bei's legitimate succession to the Han dynasty.

The author points out that immediately after Cao Pi's usurpation, Liu Bei ascended the throne in Shu, ensuring the Han lineage remained unbroken. This mirrors Emperor Guangwu of Han's enthronement at Hao and Emperor Yuan of Jin's accession in Jiankang—all representing the rightful continuation of orthodox dynasties during crises, fundamentally different from other usurpers who falsely claimed imperial titles.

The passage concludes by citing Yin Suichang's commentary: During the chaotic late Han period, many talented individuals sought to establish meritorious deeds, yet exceptional figures like Zhuge Liang—a "dragon among men"—remained reclusive in Longzhong, claiming only to aspire to be virtuous ministers like Guan Zhong or Yue Yi. Were it not for Liu Bei's sincerity in making three visits to his thatched cottage, Zhuge Liang might have ended his days in seclusion. This text emphasizes that Liu Bei's legitimate enthronement rests not merely on bloodline but more crucially on his political legitimacy in perpetuating the Han imperial house.

Zhuge Liang could have lived in obscurity like the grasses and trees, fading away in the mountain forests. Yet once he emerged, he established achievements that shine through history, never to be erased. He was no idle talker but one who saw truth clearly and understood his own position. Believing one cannot correct others while distorting oneself, he refused to flatter for personal advancement. Insisting on serving only where principles aligned, he would not take office under illegitimate regimes.

When no enlightened ruler appeared, he cultivated his nature in rural seclusion. But when the Dao (the Way) could be pursued, he devoted himself fully to his mission. Forming a bond as close as fish and water with Liu Bei, he raised high the banner of righteousness, making his purpose to restore the Han dynasty and uphold legitimacy shine like the sun and moon. This exposed the crimes of usurpers far more effectively than any ordinary talent swayed by currents of ambition. Liu Bei's three visits to Zhuge Liang's thatched cottage mirrored King Tang seeking Yi Yin in the Shen wilderness and King Wen discovering Jiang Ziya by the Wei River—scenes separated by millennia yet identical in spirit. Since the Three Dynasties, who has navigated the path between service and reclusion with such integrity?

Dai Shaowang observed: Rarely do the heart of a benevolent scholar, the ability of a hero, and the resolve of a loyal minister unite in one person—yet Zhuge Liang embodied all perfectly. During the late Han chaos, warlords vied for power: Cao Cao dominated the central plains, Sun Quan held the Southland, while Liu Bei was but a repeatedly defeated general. Yet his sincerity in those three visits moved Zhuge Liang, forging an instant bond between ruler and minister. From then on, Zhuge Liang exhausted himself in service—first securing Jing Province for Liu Bei, later accepting the weighty trust of a dying lord’s orphaned heir. Though the south was pacified, with the Han unrevived and traitors unpunished, he marched north without hesitation. Stationed in Hanzhong to reclaim the heartland, he refused to settle for a corner of safety. When the Zizhi Tongjian Gangmu records "Chancellor Liang led troops to garrison Hanzhong, planning the central plains," its words still radiate awe-inspiring righteousness today, vitality surging through the text, a vast and upright energy filling heaven and earth.

This passage recounts the life achievements and charismatic character of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming, posthumous title Marquis Zhongwu). As Chancellor of Shu Han, he leveraged his exceptional military talents to ally with Eastern Wu against Cao Wei, establishing a power base in Shu that ultimately formed the Three Kingdoms tripartite balance. During his lifetime Shu Han flourished, yet after his death it declined—demonstrating his decisive influence on the nation's destiny.

Zhuge Liang governed the military with strict discipline, wielding arms with integrity while taking the restoration of the Han dynasty as his personal responsibility and the relief of common suffering as his mission. During his southern campaigns, he captured Meng Huo yet spared his life to pacify southern minority tribes; during northern expeditions, he seized Mount Qi yet refrained from celebrating victories, focused solely on unifying the realm. His administration was impartial, his enforcement of laws just—even punished officials like Li Yan and Liao Li submitted willingly. After his death, commoners spontaneously offered sacrifices, their devotion enduring like the beloved sweet pear tree praised in the Classic of Poetry.

Zhuge Liang remained eternally grateful for Liu Bei's recognition of his talents, serving the young ruler Liu Shan with unwavering loyalty while skillfully managing both domestic and military affairs, maintaining harmony throughout the court and countryside. His devotion—"exhausting all efforts until death"—surpassed even that of Eastern Han's renowned ministers Li Gu and Kong Rong. Though Zhuge Liang modestly compared himself to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, his actual accomplishments proved greater. The author reflects: Had such a man of perfect virtue and talent served an enlightened sovereign during the Han's golden age, his achievements would have been even more magnificent. A person's worth should be measured by ability and character, not reduced to mere success or failure.

The text concludes by noting how Liu Bei (courtesy name Zhaolie), though famed for integrity, drew criticism for attacking Liu Zhang. Through contrasts with figures like Cao Cao and Sima Yi, it elevates Zhuge Liang as the consummate synthesis of talent, virtue, and moral fortitude—the greatest ministerial genius across all ages.

This passage discusses the legitimacy of Liu Bei's seizure of Liu Zhang's territory during the Three Kingdoms period, as well as the trust between several famous historical rulers and their ministers.

Regarding Liu Bei's acquisition of Shu, the author considers it entirely justified. After the chaos caused by Dong Zhuo, regional warlords all claimed to oppose tyranny and uphold the Han dynasty, yet Liu Yan (Liu Zhang's father) had long harbored treacherous ambitions. After occupying Yizhou, he secretly manufactured imperial carriages, blocked the strategic Jian'ge Pass, colluded with Zhang Lu to murder Han envoys, and even aided Ma Teng in attacking Chang'an—all actions revealing his intent to usurp the throne. He was no different from traitors like Yuan Shao, Yuan Shu, and Dong Zhuo. When the incompetent Liu Zhang inherited the territory, Liu Bei was leading a righteous army to suppress warlords and restore the Han dynasty. Under such circumstances, how could the Han be revived without removing Liu Zhang? Thus, Liu Bei's actions not only vented Emperor Xian's grievances but also punished the treachery of Liu Yan and his son. His achievements were significant, and there was no betrayal involved.

The text then cites several exemplary ruler-minister pairs: King Zhao of Yan and Yue Yi, Liu Bang and Xiao He, Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang, and Fu Jian of Former Qin and Wang Meng. These relationships reached the highest level of "knowing and employing talent wisely." The author emphasizes that understanding such deep trust between historical figures is essential when studying history.

Finally, the passage illustrates the fates of loyal ministers through several historical examples: Qu Yuan, devoted to his state, was slandered and exiled, ultimately drowning himself in grief; Zhang Liang (styled Zifang), seeking revenge for his fallen kingdom of Han, spent his family fortune to ally with heroes. Though his assassination attempt on Qin Shi Huang at Bolangsha failed, he bided his time to assist Liu Bang in overthrowing the Qin. When Xiang Yu killed Han Cheng, Zhang Liang helped the Han eliminate Chu. Zhuge Liang, upon first meeting Liu Bei, foresaw Cao Cao's eventual defeat and advised securing Jingzhou and Yizhou to establish a power base. Tao Yuanming's ancestors during the Eastern Jin remained loyal to the dynasty, witnessing its decline as Huan Xuan usurped power and Liu Yu rose. These examples demonstrate the varied choices and destinies of loyal ministers in turbulent times.

This passage examines the character and circumstances of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu). The author observes that Zhuge Liang lived in an era without enlightened rulers like Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) to assist in restoring the Han dynasty, nor sovereigns like Emperor Gaozu of Han to rely upon for avenging grievances. Consequently, his lofty ambitions remained unfulfilled, and his suppressed indignation often surfaced in his literary works.

The text cites Wu Linchuan's commentary comparing Zhuge Liang to Tao Yuanming and Zhang Liang (Zifang). While Tao Yuanming failed to realize his political aspirations, his poetry endured through the ages; Zhuge Liang, however, possessed both literary brilliance and administrative prowess. Wu Linchuan particularly praises Zhuge Liang's governance philosophy—"opening a sincere heart, displaying impartial justice, gathering collective wisdom, and broadening loyal counsel"—as a model for future chancellors.

The author analyzes how Zhuge Liang, despite knowing he should preserve his health, insisted on micromanaging affairs, even personally reviewing punishments exceeding twenty strokes, which led to exhaustion. Though such behavior appears irrational by ordinary standards, the author argues it cannot be judged through conventional perspectives. With the Han dynasty collapsing, Zhuge Liang single-handedly upheld a crumbling regime, dedicating himself utterly until death—a spiritual devotion beyond common comprehension.

The passage also mentions Yang Hong, a registrar who advised Zhuge Liang against handling every minor matter himself. Though Zhuge Liang appreciated the concern, he did not alter his approach. The author interprets Yang Hong's counsel as well-intentioned but ultimately failing to grasp Zhuge Liang's deeper resolve. Finally, Du Fu's verses are quoted—"Three kingdoms divided by intricate strategies / A lone feather soaring through eternal clouds" and "Fate shifted the Han's mandate beyond revival / Resolute will consumed by military toil"—illustrating how Zhuge Liang persisted despite knowing the Han's restoration was impossible, a transcendent determination far exceeding ordinary understanding.

Xu Heng (a prominent Confucian scholar of the Yuan Dynasty) remarked: Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) never acted out of personal gain but solely pursued moral truth. He clearly recognized that reviving the Han dynasty and quelling the rebels (referring to Cao Wei) was an inescapable duty of his time. As for whether ultimate success could be achieved, this lay beyond human prediction—one could only accord with the will of Heaven. This attitude of disregarding success or failure while focusing solely on what was right embodies the magnanimity of sages, whereas ordinary people often fixate too much on profit and loss.

Song Lian (styled Qianxi) analyzed from a military perspective: The Dao (Way) of warfare emphasizes occupying high ground and sunny positions. When Zhuge Liang encamped at Wuzhang Plains, he chose an elevated, open area nestled between mountains and valleys, making it impregnable for defense, formidable for offense, and difficult for enemies to pursue during retreat—precisely what military strategy calls "first securing an invincible position, then awaiting the opportunity to defeat the enemy." Sima Yi (styled Zhongda) was deeply apprehensive of Zhuge Liang’s formations yet dared not confront him directly, resorting instead to deceit to placate his subordinates. If he truly considered Zhuge Liang no threat, why would he endure the humiliation of being sent women’s attire rather than engage in battle?

Song Lian also evaluated Wei Yan’s (a Shu Han general) bold strategy of marching through the Ziwu Valley: This plan entirely hinged on the assumption that Cao Wei’s commander Xiahou Mao would flee rather than resist. But upon closer examination, had Xiahou Mao held his ground—either by defending the strategic pass or adopting a scorched-earth tactic—Wei Yan’s isolated forces would have been trapped and annihilated. Thus, Zhuge Liang’s rejection of the plan as overly risky was profoundly wise.

Fang Xiaoru (styled Zhengxue) praised Zhuge Liang’s governance: Rising from commoner to chancellor, no one accused him of undue haste; shouldering the burden of quelling rebels, none saw him as power-hungry; even after failed northern campaigns, none questioned his courage. His governance, marked by clear rewards and punishments, drew no accusations of arbitrariness. The world credits Zhuge Liang’s brilliance for earning respect, yet overlooks his greater virtue—his humility in avoiding intellectual arrogance and his skill in pooling collective wisdom. Given his extraordinary capability, he hardly needed to consult subordinates (for none in Shu Han matched his strategic acumen), yet he earnestly sought their counsel on statecraft.

This passage contrasts the conduct of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming) and Pang Tong (styled Shiyuan), revealing traditional Confucian value judgments regarding the "Way of Kings" (wangdao) versus "Hegemonic Rule."

As Chancellor of Shu-Han, Zhuge Liang consistently maintained an attitude of humility and caution. He frequently examined his own shortcomings, fearing he might fail to hear others point out his errors. This open-minded approach to governance was rare among chancellors after the Qin and Han dynasties. Fang Xiaoru (Fang Zhengshu) commented that even if Pang Tong hadn't died young, his achievements would still pale in comparison to Zhuge Liang's. The reason lies in Zhuge Liang's pursuit of the "Way of Kings" (governing through moral virtue), while Pang Tong's discourse often carried tones of strategic cunning.

A telling example illustrates this contrast: When Liu Zhang invited Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) into Yizhou, some suggested seizing the territory by force. Liu Bei hesitated out of concern for breaking trust with the realm, yet Pang Tong advocated launching a surprise attack when Liu Zhang came to welcome them. This comparison shows Liu Bei still preserved his benevolent heart, while Pang Tong's character appears comparatively narrow.

Liu Renzhai further observes that later historians like Chen Shou, in his Records of the Three Kingdoms, recognized Cao Wei as the legitimate regime while labeling Zhuge Liang's northern campaigns as "invasions"—thus inverting the relationship between legitimacy and usurpation. Zhu Xi's Outline and Details of the Comprehensive Mirror corrected this view, clearly establishing Liu Bei as inheritor of Han legitimacy. Therefore Zhuge Liang's military actions should properly be termed "campaigns against Wei," while Wei's incursions should be called "invasions."

Ding Nanhu acknowledges Pang Tong from four perspectives: Liu Bei's ability to employ talent recommended by rival states (commendable in Zhaolie); Eastern Wu's Lu Su transcending factional boundaries to recommend talent (commendable in Lu Su); Zhuge Liang promoting junior colleagues (commendable in Kongming); and Pang Tong ultimately assisting Liu Bei in capturing Yizhou through strategy (commendable in Pang Tong). However, we should note Pang Tong was nephew to Pang Degong and had connections with both Zhuge Liang and Sima Hui (Sima Decao).

This passage presents evaluations and discussions of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) by several scholars, focusing on three key aspects: his perspective on talent, governance philosophy, and personal character.

Luo Yuzhang (Luo Congyan) categorized talents into three tiers: Western Han talents suited for following the proper Dao (适道), Eastern Han talents capable of upholding principles (立), and Three Kingdoms talents skilled in strategic flexibility (权). He considered Zhuge Liang as having attained the highest level of "mastering adaptability" (可與權), possessing the ability to respond to changing circumstances, though lamented that such extraordinary talent was underutilized during the Three Kingdoms period. Comparing Zhuge Liang to historical figures like Zhang Liang and Yi Yin, Luo argued that Zhuge possessed Yi Yin's caliber of statesmanship but was born in an unfavorable era.

Mao Kun (literary name Lumen) analyzed from a military perspective, interpreting Zhuge's northern expeditions (including the Qishan and Wuzhangyuan campaigns) as fulfilling the moral obligation of "avenging national humiliation" (国仇必报). He particularly praised the "Chu Shi Biao" (Memorials on the Expedition), noting how the first memorial demonstrated governance strategy while the second embodied foundational statecraft principles—far surpassing the complacent rulers of the Eastern Jin who settled for ruling south of the Yangtze.

Yuan Huang (literary name Liaofan) emphasized the unique relationship between Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang. When Liu Bei entrusted his orphaned son to Zhuge Liang on his deathbed (凭几之遗命), Zhuge accepted the charge with tearful devotion, displaying a ruler-minister trust that transcended their era. Yuan portrayed Liu Bei possessing Yao-and-Shun-like benevolence while Zhuge Liang demonstrated Yi Yin-and-Duke of Zhou-level loyalty. Using poetic metaphors—"a coiling dragon soaring through clouds refuses reins, a phoenix singing in jade forests resists the musician's cage"—Yuan explained why Zhuge wouldn't serve Sun Quan: though Sun could employ talents, he couldn't provide the complete freedom Zhuge needed to realize his ambitions.

These evaluations converge on a central theme: Zhuge Liang uniquely combined idealistic moral steadfastness with realistic political wisdom, maintaining his "devotion until exhaustion" (鞠躬尽瘁) character amidst chaotic times, making him the most exceptional statesman of the Three Kingdoms period.

During his youth, Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming) lived in seclusion in Nanyang, yet his heart remained devoted to the Han imperial cause. He observed that Sun Quan (styled Zhongmou) merely relied on his father and elder brother's lingering prestige to occupy Jiangdong—at his core, he was just a warlord seizing territory, utterly unworthy of Zhuge Liang's service.

Cao Cao had also sent envoys to recruit Zhuge Liang, but the latter explicitly refused to serve him. Cao Cao didn't press the matter, remarking, "I cannot let a man of such purity suffer humiliation in my less-than-immaculate court." This statement reveals Cao Cao's partial understanding of Zhuge Liang's disposition. However, Cao Cao's decision not to kill Zhuge Liang wasn't due to genuine tolerance—he never had patience for opponents. He simply feared the infamy of murdering a renowned scholar. Earlier, he had Mi Heng killed through Liu Biao's hands, and executed Kong Rong using Lu Cui as pretext. Had he killed Zhuge Liang, scholars across the land would have reviled him—a risk Cao Cao dared not take. Later, when Sima Yi refused recruitment, Cao Cao directly sent assassins to threaten him. Cao Cao understood clearly: Zhuge Liang could neither be employed nor easily eliminated, whereas Sima Yi could be bought with wealth or coerced by force. Cao Cao knew he could control Sima Yi but never Zhuge Liang—hence he tolerated Zhuge Liang's refusal but wouldn't permit Sima Yi's bargaining.

Yuan Liaofan commented: When governing Shu, Zhuge Liang personally attended to every matter, even auditing account books himself, often working until drenched in sweat. Later, Fei Yi succeeded him, changing to handling official business twice daily—morning and evening—while receiving guests to maintain relationships in between. Though their abilities differed and their eras contrasted in prosperity, both effectively governed—one through exhaustive effort, the other with relative leisure. Why? Because Zhuge Liang, as founder, had to establish systems, while Fei Yi, as maintainer, simply followed existing institutions—much like Xiao He establishing Han laws while Cao Shen merely adhered to them. Still, Zhuge Liang's diligence in reclaiming wastelands, enriching the treasury, and meticulously arranging military camp kitchens was truly remarkable. Sadly, Fei Yi's eventual assassination by a surrendered general during a banquet—a result of lowered vigilance—became a classic example of catastrophe arising from neglected details.

Yuan further noted: Zhuge Liang possessed the talent to assist emperors, comparing himself to Guan Zhong and Yue Yi while still a recluse. He discerned historical currents with perfect clarity of the realm's configuration. Some claim his youthful studies only grasped general principles, and that his later daily copying of Legalist texts as chancellor made his statecraft ultimately less profound than Yi Yin or Lü Shang's.

Yuan concluded: Ancient wisdom holds that among a thousand men emerges one of brilliance; among ten thousand, a hero. Emperor Gaozu of Han named Xiao He, Zhang Liang, and Han Xin as such heroic men (implicitly placing Zhuge Liang among their ranks).

This passage examines the historical assessment and governance capabilities of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming), the renowned chancellor of Shu Han during the Three Kingdoms period. It begins by noting how Zhuge Liang's administrative talents earned him recognition as a virtuous prime minister, with strategic acumen surpassing even early Han dynasty luminaries like Xiao He and Zhang Liang. Alongside Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, he formed the "Three Heroes of Shu Han," with his comprehensive abilities arguably exceeding those of Han dynasty's founding ministers.

The text references Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's comparison of three chancellors to the "Three Heroes," though the author contends only Song Jing truly deserved this honor while the other two were unworthy inclusions. Yuan Liaofan (a Ming dynasty philosopher) further analyzes that when opposing armies face each other, the more capable side prevails; but when both possess equal talent, victory depends on the ruler's ability to employ capable ministers. He cites the standoff between Zhuge Liang and Sima Yi (the Wei dynasty strategist) as such a case, suggesting that given more time, Zhuge Liang might well have prevailed.

Cheng Minzheng (a Ming dynasty scholar) refutes claims that Zhuge Liang's wisdom fell short of Fa Zheng's (courtesy name Xiaozhi). He points out that while Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) initially disregarded Zhuge Liang's advice to seize Yizhou but later accepted Fa Zheng's proposal to attack Wu, this didn't indicate any deficiency in Zhuge Liang's intellect. Rather, it demonstrated how upright counsel often falls on deaf ears while cunning strategies find ready acceptance—a tendency even wise rulers like Liu Bei couldn't completely avoid.

Cai Qing (a Ming dynasty Neo-Confucian scholar) concludes with an evaluation of Zhuge Liang's governance policies in Shu: his strict adherence to the principles that "ranks shouldn't be lightly conferred" and "punishments shouldn't spare relatives" might appear excessively harsh. However, considering the chaotic conditions under previous ruler Liu Zhang's administration, such rigorous legal measures became necessary—exemplifying the principle that "disordered times demand severe laws." Moreover, with Liu Bei's characteristically lenient and benevolent rule, Zhuge Liang's strict governance provided essential balance to the administration.

This passage examines Zhuge Liang's (styled Kongming) approach to governance while assisting Liu Shan, the later ruler of Shu Han. Through comparison, it illustrates: Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) won hearts through magnanimity and virtue (De) — this was the ruler's Dao (Way); whereas Zhuge Liang governed Shu with strict legalist methods — this was the chancellor's Dao. Just as water requires balancing adjustments, statecraft needs to harmonize leniency with severity, urgency with deliberation.

Some critics argue Zhuge Liang erred in applying the legalist philosophies of Shen Buhai and Han Feizi alongside military strategies when assisting the young ruler, claiming Confucian classics should have been used instead. The author refutes this by citing Tang Zixi's perspective: the later ruler's benevolent but politically naive temperament precisely required legalist methods like "verifying names against reality" (核名实) and "assessing priorities" (贵轻重) as targeted remedies. Just as effective medicine must suit the illness, governance methods must match actual needs.

The text further notes Liu Bei's deathbed instruction for his successor to study Shen Buhai and Han Feizi's works, confirming this approach as the late emperor's explicit mandate. When Meng Xiaoyu inquired about crown prince Liu Shan's qualities and learned of his kindness but political inexperience, he concurred this aligned with Zhuge Liang's assessment.

Finally, the passage rebuts Yu Bao's fallacy in Chuo Geng Lu that Zhuge Liang's loyalty to Liu Bei rather than Emperor Xian of Han was misguided. Citing historian Xi Zuochi's analysis, the author explains: just as Duke Hui of Jin's succession by his son during Qin captivity or Emperor Guangwu's enthronement while Emperor Gengshi still reigned were historically justified, Liu Bei's imperial claim while Emperor Xian was held hostage constituted correct statesmanship responding to exigent circumstances. Critics displaying such shallow understanding reveal their limited vision, and Tao Jiucheng's (Tao Zongyi) inclusion of these views appears careless.

Yang Shen (a Ming Dynasty scholar) commented: When Zhuge Liang analyzed the political landscape for Liu Bei in his thatched cottage, he proposed first occupying Jingzhou and Yizhou, then awaiting changes in the situation before launching a two-pronged attack—one advancing from Longyou (eastern Gansu) and another pushing north from Jingxiang (Hubei region), forming a pincer movement to seize Yongzhou (the Guanzhong area). However, after Guan Yu lost Xiangyang, it was as if Zhuge Liang had lost his right arm, and the strategic situation no longer matched the original plan conceived in the cottage. Thus, when Wei Yan suggested a surprise attack on Chang'an with elite troops, Zhuge Liang did not adopt the plan precisely because the coordinated strategy had collapsed. Had Heaven favored the Han dynasty, had Guan Yu held Xiangyang, and had the Cao Wei capital faced instability with possible relocations from Xuchang to Luoyang while Zhuge Liang advanced from Longyou, he could have secured Chang'an without resorting to Wei Yan's risky strategy.

Yang Shen further noted: During the Western Jin Dynasty, Zhang Hua once asked Li Mi (a former official of Shu Han) why Zhuge Liang's teachings and speeches were so detailed. Li Mi replied: Ancient sages like Shun, Yu, and Gao Yao spoke concisely and elegantly among themselves, but Zhuge Liang had to explain things meticulously to ordinary soldiers. Zhang Hua found this explanation insightful.

Regarding Liu Bei's conquest of Yizhou, Yang Shen's research shows: In the winter of the 16th year of the Jian'an era (211 CE), Liu Bei accepted Liu Zhang's invitation to enter Shu to suppress Zhang Lu, while Zhuge Liang remained in Jingzhou. It was not until the following year that Liu Bei, following Fa Zheng's advice, advanced from Jiameng Pass to occupy Fucheng. Had Zhuge Liang been present, the decision might not have been made so hastily. Later generations wrongly attributed the conquest of Liu Zhang to Zhuge Liang without thorough historical examination.

Yang Shen also recorded an anecdote: In the 13th year of the Zhengde era (1518), while visiting the Wuhou Shrine, he met the compiler Yu Fangchi and saw a poem inscribed on the wall praising Zhuge Liang. Lines like "The spring waters of Jianjiang ripple emerald green" and "The great star had already fallen over the front camp" lamented Zhuge Liang's unfinished northern expeditions, with artistic merit rivaling Du Fu's works. The poem's conclusion emphasized valuing Zhuge Liang's spirit of upholding orthodox legitimacy over judging heroes by success or failure. Unfortunately, the author remains unknown.

Finally, Yang Shen added: The Records of the Song Dynasty contains a rare criticism by Zhuge Liang stating that "Lai Min disrupted the region even more than Kong Rong (styled Wenju)." This is noteworthy—it shows that as early as Zhuge Liang's time, the tendency of empty talk and impracticality, exemplified by figures like Kong Rong, had already been foreseen. The later Jin Dynasty's decline due to "pure conversation" (qingtan) was thus presaged.

(Note: "Zhaolie" refers to Liu Bei, posthumously titled Emperor Zhaolie; "Kong Wenju" is the Eastern Han scholar Kong Rong; "Zhengde" was the reign era of the Ming Emperor Wuzong.)

The text discusses several key perspectives:

First, it examines Zhuge Liang's (Kongming) approach to talent recruitment, noting that capable individuals like Li Ping and Liao Li would undoubtedly be recognized and employed by him for their exceptional abilities. Later generations often focus solely on Zhuge Liang's erudition when evaluating him.

Yang Shengan (a Ming dynasty scholar) cites Du Fu's poetic line "reluctant to marry, cherishing one's grace" to illustrate a profound principle: a scholar's decision to serve in government resembles a woman's choice to wed—both require prudence. Chen Shidao (Houshan) further elaborates that just as a maiden hesitates to marry in her youth, a gentleman should not hastily enter official service. The crux lies in discerning circumstances clearly. Figures like Yi Yin and Zhuge Liang achieved merit by thoroughly understanding their times before emerging, while Yan Guang and Su Yunqing preserved their integrity through reclusion when comprehension proved insufficient. Conversely, Liu Xin and Xun Yu suffered ruin due to misjudgment.

The text then presents five maxims Zhuge Liang taught his son: "Only through detachment can one clarify aspirations; only through tranquility can one plan profoundly; only through magnanimity can one embrace all things; only through benevolence can one unite people; only through impartiality can one decide affairs." These distilled teachings originate from the Huainanzi, which Zhuge Liang selectively adapted for his descendants. Yang Shengan observes that the first two phrases ("detachment and tranquility") encaps the essence of the latter three, praising Zhuge Liang's exemplary scholarship and discernment.

It further explores self-cultivation principles: "The mind should be meticulous but courage expansive; wisdom should be adaptable but conduct upright; abilities should be numerous but undertakings few." Also derived from the Huainanzi and cited by Sun Simiao, these precepts receive Yang Shengan's commentary—he suggests "ambition should be grand" improves upon "courage should be great," while particularly valuing the maxim about cultivating diverse skills with focused practice.

Finally, the Wenzi's quotation of Laozi appears: "Human nature is originally tranquil; desires arise through sensory stimulation." Incorporated into the Book of Rites by Han Confucians, this became canonical. Yang Shengan wryly notes that had Song Confucians known its Daoist origin, they would have denounced it—yet its classical status earned reverence, exemplifying blind conformity like "dwarves watching theater and echoing applause."

This passage presents Ming dynasty scholar Yang Shen's (style name Sheng'an) critical examination and commentary on historical records concerning Zhuge Liang, containing several key points:

Regarding the famous saying "Dispassion reveals one's aspirations; tranquility leads to distant vision," Yang points out that while commonly attributed to Zhuge Liang, it actually first appeared in the Western Han text Huainanzi by Liu An. He questions why Confucian scholars, knowing its true origin, still credit it to Zhuge Liang.

When discussing different versions of the Chu Shi Biao (Memorial on the Expedition), Yang's textual analysis shows existing versions all derive from Records of the Three Kingdoms, though the Wenxuan version contains six additional characters ("若无兴德之言"). He considers this version more complete and accurate.

Yang cites Ge Hong's Baopuzi which records that Cao Cao once sought to employ Zhuge Liang, but Zhuge declined. Rather than forcing the issue, Cao Cao remarked, "One should not make a noble scholar suffer humiliation under a foolish ruler's court." Yang marvels at Cao Cao's magnanimity—exceeding all other Three Kingdoms rulers—as evidenced not only in sparing Zhuge Liang but also in releasing Guan Yu unharmed.

Concerning Zhu Xi's assertion that Zhuge Liang's scholarship derived from Legalist thinkers (Shen Buhai, Han Feizi) while Tao Yuanming's came from Daoist sources (Laozi, Zhuangzi), Yang cautiously states that later scholars dare not casually comment on nor fully endorse this view.

Yang provides detailed etymology of "jinguo" (ancient female headwear): Zhuge Liang sending Sima Yi women's headdresses (specifically unwed maidens' ornaments) was meant to mock his refusal to engage in battle like a sequestered woman. He further explains regional variations—called "cloud chignons" in Yanjing and "temporary cages" in Sichuan.

Finally, he refutes the Houzhu Zhuan claim that Shu Han lacked court historians recording omens, citing specific records like yellow vapors over Zigui and crows falling into rivers as proof of official historians (including Wang Chong, Xu Gai, and Xi Zheng). Yang suggests this inaccuracy stems from possible bias—Chen Shou (author of Records of the Three Kingdoms) having a father who suffered the humiliating kun punishment (head-shaving penalty).

This passage discusses the performance and evaluation of members of the Zhuge family across different states during the Three Kingdoms period.

It first refutes the claim that "Shu lacked official historians," pointing out that historical records from the first year of Jingyao (258 CE) under Liu Shan (the Later Ruler) document celestial anomalies and imperial pardons, proving that Shu indeed maintained a system of official historians during Zhuge Liang's time.

The text then cites Yang Shen (a Ming dynasty scholar known as Yang Sheng'an), who regarded Zhuge Liang as a rare talent, excelling in both domestic governance and military campaigns. Yang criticized historical records that labeled loyal martyrs who died for their states as "rebel generals," arguing that such portrayals would dishearten righteous individuals and violate the fundamental purpose of histories: "to punish evil and promote good."

Wang Shizhen (a Ming dynasty literary figure) analyzed the three brothers of the Zhuge family: Zhuge Liang (Kongming), who served as Shu's chancellor; his elder brother Zhuge Jin (Ziyu), who rose to the rank of Grand General in Wu; and their cousin Zhuge Dan (Gongxiu), who became Minister of Works in Wei. Though each served a different state, none harbored mutual suspicion, and all reached the highest echelons of power. While Shishuo Xinyu famously remarked, "Shu gained a dragon (Zhuge Liang), Wu gained a tiger (Zhuge Jin), and Wei gained a dog (Zhuge Dan)," a closer examination of Zhuge Dan's deeds—his reputation in Luoyang rivaling the esteemed Xiahou Xuan, his administrative achievements, and the loyalty of hundreds of followers who chose death over surrender, crying, "We die without regret for Lord Zhuge!"—reveals that his abilities and prestige were far from mediocre.

Lastly, the text mentions Zhuge Jin’s son, Zhuge Ke (Yuanxun), who imitated Zhuge Liang in every aspect: assisting a young ruler, launching northern campaigns against Wei, and harshly punishing failed generals (just as Zhuge Liang executed Ma Su, Zhuge Ke executed Zhu Yi; as Zhuge Liang disciplined Li Yan, Zhuge Ke disciplined Sun Hei). However, this forced emulation hastened his downfall. The author suggests that Zhuge Ke’s achievements in pacifying the Shanyue tribes were comparable to Zhuge Liang’s subjugation of the Nanzhong region (Meng Huo), implying that historical assessments should be more balanced.

This passage reveals the essence of governance by comparing the administrative styles of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) with other historical figures.

The text first contrasts Zhuge Liang with his Eastern Wu counterparts Zhuge Jin (courtesy name Ziyu) and Zhuge Ke (courtesy name Yuanxun): Zhuge Liang acted with meticulous deliberation, treating others with strict yet benevolent discipline, while Zhuge Ke was rash, impatient, and harshly oppressive. The author laments that while Zhuge Liang's loyalty to Shu Han, Zhuge Jin's loyalty to Eastern Wu, and Zhuge Zhan's (courtesy name Siyuan) martyrdom in upholding his father's legacy are widely praised, the loyalty of Zhuge Dan (courtesy name Gongxiu) to Cao Wei and Zhuge Ke to Eastern Wu is rarely acknowledged—even mistakenly equated with rebels like Zhong Hui and Sun Jun, which is a grave injustice.

The Ming scholar Wang Shizhen (literary name Yanzhou) observed that Confucian learning began to decline in the Song Dynasty, as Song Confucians indulged in empty discussions of moral principles while neglecting practical governance, leading to repeated defeats against the Liao and Jin dynasties. In contrast, though Zhuge Liang likened himself to pragmatic statesmen like Guan Zhong and Yue Yi and had the later Shu emperor study the Legalist classic Han Feizi, his results-oriented governance enabled the weak state of Shu Han to contend with the mighty Cao Wei for decades.

The Ningdu scholar Dong Tianxi further analyzed: The ancient system of integrating soldiers and farmers (tilling fields in peacetime, taking up arms in war) formed the foundation of statecraft. Zhuge Liang innovated with inventions like the "wooden ox and gliding horse" and the "Eight Formations," preserving ancient wisdom without rigid adherence to tradition. He selected generals based on both talent and loyalty, employing evaluation, probation, and motivation to maximize their potential. In warfare, he emphasized seizing opportunities, discerning enemy movements, and preventing military arrogance and corruption. These insights surpassed earlier thinkers, embodying the highest principles of military strategy. What is called "the art of war" is ultimately "the art of the mind," proving that success or failure in all endeavors hinges on one's dedication. This Collected Works of Zhuge the Loyal and Martial Marquis has long been revered, with many scholars studying its essential teachings.

This passage primarily discusses Zhuge Liang's talents, aspirations, and historical significance.

The text begins with the metaphor of a master craftsman: while compass and square can be taught, their ingenious application depends on personal insight. Just as the disparity in strength between Shu and Wei was evident, yet Wei feared Shu—this was solely because of Zhuge Liang's presence. His abilities stemmed from profound self-cultivation, accumulated through the scholarly principle of "stillness perfects learning, learning expands talent." Upholding the loyal conviction that "the Han and traitors cannot coexist, and the royal enterprise must not settle for partial peace," he achieved greatness in assisting the imperial cause.

Lin Wenjun (a Ming dynasty scholar) often reflected on Zhuge Liang's deeds while studying history. Amid the chaos of the late Han dynasty, when warlords rose to power—Cao Cao manipulated the realm with political schemes, and Sun Quan carved out his dominion in Jiangdong—many talented individuals flocked to their service. Only Zhuge Liang emerged from seclusion after Liu Bei's three visits to his thatched cottage, precisely because Liu Bei was a descendant of the Han imperial house. When Cao Pi usurped the Han throne, Zhuge Liang urged Liu Bei to claim imperial legitimacy in Shu, sustaining the Han lineage with the mission to "eradicate traitors and revive the Han." Though ultimately unsuccessful, the spirit of "the Han and traitors cannot coexist" from his Chu Shi Biao (Memorial on the Expedition) still serves as a warning to those who forsake their sovereign for personal gain.

Deng Qiyu (another Ming dynasty scholar) compared Zhuge Liang to Zhang Liang (courtesy name Zifang) of the early Han dynasty: Zhang Liang first received military strategy from the Yellow Stone Elder (Huangshigong) and later retired after achieving merit, whereas Zhuge Liang struggled to reverse the Han's decline. His strategic brilliance matched Zhang Liang's, yet unfavorable circumstances prevented him from fulfilling his dream of Han restoration. The regret of "autumn winds at Wuzhangyuan" (alluding to Zhuge Liang's death) was not due to any lack of ability but to the constraints of the era—he possessed Zhang Liang's wisdom but not his opportunity for success.

(Note: The variant character [火/又] in the text is now commonly written as "炎," referring to the Han dynasty's Fire Virtue (Huode); "Yu Yuan" is a mythical place where the sun sets, symbolizing the rescue of a desperate situation; "Yellow Stone" refers to Huangshigong, the legendary figure who taught Zhang Liang military strategy; "Red Pine" (Chisong) alludes to the immortal Chisongzi, whom Zhang Liang followed in his later years.)

This passage recounts the life and achievements of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu), as well as later generations' reverence for him. The author compares Zhuge Liang to a master carpenter supporting a collapsing tower—though he exhausted all efforts, he couldn't reverse the decline of Shu Han, yet this was never his failing.

During his early years of reclusion in Nanyang (modern-day Nanyang, Henan), tilling fields in humble circumstances, Zhuge Liang had already foreseen the tripartite division of the realm in his thatched cottage and devised strategic formations like the Eight Arrays. Just as the Shang dynasty's renowned minister Yi Yin (of Shenye) nourished the dynasty's foundations with "a single plow's spring rain," or the Eastern Han's Yan Ziling (of Tongjiang) sustained the Han's vitality with his "clear breeze," Nanyang's very soil was destined to nurture rulers and statesmen—a land blessed with potent fengshui.

The author recalls how, upon first entering official service, each reading of Zhuge Liang's "Memorial on Launching a Campaign" moved him to tears. Later, when stationed in Nanyang by imperial command, he surveyed the undulating ridges of Longgang Mountain and the limpid waves of the Yu River (modern Baihe). Though today's Wuhou Temple boasts resplendent halls and lush pines, this magnificence bears no resemblance to the original simplicity of that thatched cottage. Later generations express reverence through lavish sacrificial architecture, yet what truly concerned Zhuge Liang was always the rise and fall of the realm—never the cottage itself.

The local official Zong Ling (styled Ganqing, from Sishui) compiled an illustrated collection of poems documenting the Marquis's deeds. The author believes that so long as Longgang Mountain and the Yu River endure, these records will remain immortal. The text concludes by invoking Chen Liang's Discussions on History: True heroes accomplish what ordinary people cannot, just as a thousand-mile steed traverses rivers and mountains. Even when performing tasks within an ordinary horse's capacity, their realms remain worlds apart—an implicit tribute to Zhuge Liang's transcendent abilities, which surpassed common understanding, despite his ultimate lack of success.

This passage compares the military strategies of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) and Sima Yi (courtesy name Zhongda). Zhuge Liang led 100,000 infantry troops on long marches to actively seek battle, while Sima Yi, despite commanding 300,000 elite cavalry, dared only to defend—even when pressured by advisors like Jia Xu to engage, his attempts ended in failure.

The crux lies in their fundamentally different strategic approaches: Sima Yi excelled in deception, unpredictability, and cunning stratagems (the conventional tools of a tactician), whereas Zhuge Liang adhered to the upright path, leading his troops with moral righteousness and governing the army with benevolence. His ingeniously arranged "Eight Formations" left no weakness in the vanguard, rear guard, or flanks, rendering Sima Yi's usual tactics—surprise attacks, ambushes, and espionage—utterly ineffective.

The author emphasizes a critical point: Had Zhuge Liang countered deception with deception, it would have been a contest of "wisdom against wisdom, courage against courage," with unpredictable outcomes. Instead, Zhuge Liang chose to "confront cunning with righteousness and oppose valor with moral principle"—using the upright Dao to neutralize schemes and overwhelming force with ethical supremacy. This strategy might not yield immediate, dramatic results, but it fundamentally eroded the opponent's morale. Sima Yi, renowned throughout the land for his crafty stratagems—even feared by Sun Quan—found himself powerless against Zhuge Liang, reduced to passively waiting for his rival's death.

Finally, the text refutes the popular notion that "Zhuge Liang excelled at military administration but lacked ingenuity in unconventional tactics." This, the author argues, is a misunderstanding: Zhuge Liang was fully capable of employing cunning stratagems but consciously chose not to resort to deceitful methods. This very choice elevated him above ordinary tacticians.

This passage analyzes the strategic vision Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) might have realized had he lived longer. Sima Yi (courtesy name Zhongda), skilled at leveraging his strengths to pressure rulers and suppress colleagues, flaunted his talents in Wei while adopting defensive tactics to wait for the Shu army's collapse. Yet in his later years, Zhuge Liang deployed wooden oxen and gliding horses (transport vehicles) for farming garrisons along the Wei River, preparing for prolonged warfare. Had this stalemate persisted for a year or two, Sima Yi would have faced a dilemma: avoiding battle would invite imperial suspicion and colleague criticism, while engaging would guarantee defeat.

Had Zhuge Liang enjoyed greater longevity, he might first have seized the Guanzhong region, pacified the people by promoting the Han dynasty's virtuous governance (De), then swept through central China with unstoppable momentum. Five or six years later, when Emperor Ming of Wei died and Prince Qi succeeded him, internal Wei turmoil would have been inevitable. A coordinated offensive could then have struck directly at Wei's heartland. After Wei's fall, the aging Sun Quan of Wu—plagued by deepening paranoia—would have seen his top generals like Lu Xun perish in succession, while succession disputes between legitimate and illegitimate heirs tore Wu apart. With Shu Han's three armies descending the Yangtze, the Jiangdong region could have been pacified within a year.

Following unification, Zhuge Liang would have ceased military campaigns to implement civil governance (Wen), reforming customs and moral education—within a few years, a golden age of peace could have been restored. The author particularly emphasizes that Zhuge Liang's governance of Shu was inherently regal in nature; extending such administration nationwide would inevitably have revived a flourishing era of Great Peace (Taiping).

This passage discusses Zhuge Liang's (styled Kongming) political acumen and historical assessment. The author argues that Zhuge Liang possessed full capability to restore the ritual-music system of governance, but Shu Han's failure to unify China led later superficial Confucians to make unwarranted criticisms of him.

Zhuge Liang was a statesman comparable to ancient worthies like Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou, yet found himself subjected to various censures due to the chaotic era. When others clamored for official positions, he lived in seclusion in his thatched cottage until Liu Bei made three visits to solicit his service. When entrusted with the heavy responsibility of a regent, he neither monopolized power nor evaded duty, leaving no room for court gossip. Though wielding immense authority, he incurred no imperial suspicion; though standing above all ministers, he provoked no jealousy. Governing Shu, he worked diligently, pardoning minor faults while severely punishing major crimes, creating an atmosphere of solemn discipline.

He governed the people with the "Dao of Ease" (yidao), making them labor without resentment; he implemented punishments with the "Dao of Life" (shengdao), making the condemned die without hatred. These were methods of true kingship, all perfectly executed by Zhuge Liang. Yet some claim he merely compares to Guan Zhong or Yue Yi—merely a regional minister—or even assert he was inferior to Sima Yi (styled Zhongda). Such views reveal childish understanding.

The author specifically refutes claims of Sima Yi's superiority. When Zhuge Liang marched to Qishan, Sima Yi rushed to Shanggui upon hearing of Shu forces harvesting wheat, only to find Zhuge Liang had already withdrawn due to grain shortages. Sima Yi then disingenuously claimed: "My forced march violated military principles, yet Zhuge Liang dared not hold the Wei River—proof he's easily handled." In truth, Sima Yi knew better but used bombast to deceive his officers. Later, when Zhuge Liang advanced through Xie Valley, Sima Yi led troops to resist but withdrew upon learning the Shu army hadn't reached the Wei River. These incidents demonstrate Sima Yi's actual fear of Zhuge Liang.

This passage recounts the military rivalry between Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming) and Sima Yi (courtesy name Zhongda) during the Three Kingdoms period. When Zhuge Liang stationed his troops at Wuzhang Plains, Sima Yi deliberately spread rumors saying, "If Zhuge Liang truly had courage, he would take the initiative to attack." In truth, Sima Yi knew Zhuge Liang wouldn't rashly engage in battle—his words were calculated to showcase his own strategic foresight while bolstering his troops' morale.

Zhuge Liang governed his army with strict discipline, avoiding petty schemes and short-term gains. Yet Sima Yi remarked, "Zhuge Liang has grand ambitions but lacks adaptability, many stratagems but indecisiveness, and a fondness for military campaigns but no tactical flexibility." These were empty boasts Sima Yi made for his subordinates' ears, not his genuine assessment. To truly understand a person, one shouldn't listen to what they say while their rival lives, but observe their conduct after the rival's death. When Zhuge Liang passed away, Sima Yi inspected his military camp, straightened his robes, and sighed: "Truly a rare genius of our age!" Only upon witnessing Zhuge Liang's military arrangements—far surpassing his own capabilities—did Sima Yi reveal his authentic thoughts.

Later commentators often took Sima Yi's earlier deceptive words at face value, falling for his ruse. The Tang dynasty strategist Li Jing, while studying military tactics, held Zhuge Liang's systems in highest esteem yet never praised Sima Yi. This demonstrates how true military experts discern the deeper realities.

The author laments that nearly a millennium after Zhuge Liang's death, few truly understood him. Heying (the author's self-reference) particularly admires Zhuge Liang's talent and loyalty when studying history, considering him comparable to ancient sages. Yet some unofficial histories like Yu Wenlong's records cast doubt on Zhuge Liang—questioning Liu Bei's claimed descent from Prince Jing of Zhongshan and criticizing the wisdom of the Wu campaign.

This passage critiques Zhuge Liang’s (the Marquis of Zhongwu) political stance and choices. While acknowledging his exceptional intellect, the author argues that Zhuge fell short in upholding righteous legitimacy (大义名分).

Zhuge Liang claimed to champion the restoration of the Han dynasty, yet he supported Liu Bei’s self-proclamation as King of Hanzhong while Emperor Xian still reigned, and later endorsed Liu Bei’s imperial ascension. This contrasts sharply with the loyalty of Dong Gong, who once urged Emperor Gaozu of Han to mourn the Righteous Emperor and rally against Xiang Yu. The author questions: If Zhuge truly sought to revive the Han, how would he have handled the incumbent Emperor Xian? This reveals Zhuge’s pragmatism in adapting to circumstances but also his lack of commitment to dynastic legitimacy—his allegiance lay with Liu Bei personally, not the Han’s orthodox line.

Regarding Liu Bei’s claim of descent from Prince Jing of Zhongshan, the author raises doubts: Over three centuries separated the prince from Liu Bei—how reliable were the genealogical records? Moreover, while Liu Biao addressed Liu Bei as "younger brother" and Liu Zhang honored him as "uncle," figures like Cao Cao excelled at distorting truths. Yet Zhuge Liang never publicly challenged Liu Bei’s imperial lineage. When Wang Lang falsely posed as a Han descendant, his fraud was swiftly exposed. Could contemporaries truly have been blind to the authenticity of Liu Bei’s claim?

The author further analyzes: The empire belonged to Emperor Gaozu of Han, not Emperor Xian alone. By then, the latter was a puppet under Cao Cao’s control. Zhuge Liang likely wished to rescue Emperor Xian, but Cao Cao had long disregarded the emperor’s authority. Even sages like Yi Yin or Lü Shang would have struggled to reverse the situation. Failing to assist Emperor Xian, selecting a capable clansman like Liu Bei to uphold the state was a defensible, pragmatic choice prioritizing the realm’s stability.

Finally, the author rebuts those who argue Zhuge should have emulated Emperor Guangwu’s deference to the Gengshi Emperor: Emperor Xian was imprisoned, his whereabouts unknown to officials—to whom could they have appealed? This serves as a justification for Zhuge Liang’s decisions.

This passage discusses Zhuge Liang (the Marquis of Zhongwu) and his difficult choices in assisting Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) to establish the Shu Han dynasty.

At that time, Cao Cao held Emperor Xian of Han under his control. Had Liu Bei accepted Cao Cao's imperial edict (issued under the emperor's name) to disband his forces, Liu Bei's foundation would have immediately collapsed. Zhuge Liang keenly understood the dilemma: rejecting the order would brand them as rebels, while compliance meant self-destruction. He had no choice but to first support Liu Bei's claim as King of Hanzhong, then later as Emperor of Shu Han, all to preserve the Han dynasty's legitimacy in hopes of eventually pacifying Wu and Wei to restore the Central Plains. Even when this ultimately failed, it was due to the mandate of heaven.

The text notes that Liu Bei's royal proclamation followed Cao Cao's acceptance of the Nine Bestowments (the highest honors for a regent), and his imperial ascension coincided with Emperor Xian's death—neither action was rash. The righteous spirit in Zhuge Liang's "Memorial on the Expedition" moved both gods and ghosts; his six northern campaigns from Qishan reverberated through history. His vision matched that of Tang of Shang and King Wu of Zhou; his achievements stood alongside ancient sage-ministers like Yi Yin and Lü Shang—far surpassing those who merely paid lip service to loyalty while scheming for power.

It was precisely Zhuge Liang's assistance that allowed the Han ancestral temples to endure for decades. Had he remained in reclusion, the Three Kingdoms' tripartite balance might never have formed, and Cao Cao's usurpation could have occurred as early as Jian'an 19. Zhuge Liang was no stranger to righteousness—in those treacherous times, who else could so precisely gauge the situation? Who could execute the tripartition strategy with contractual precision? Who could uphold Han legitimacy against collapse? Who could simultaneously resist powerful foes like Cao Wei (Dangtu) and the Sima clan (Dianwu)? Even Emperor Guangwu of Han faced bandits across the land, yet none threatened like Sun Quan, Cao Cao, and Sima Yi. Zhuge Liang made "punishing traitors" his life's purpose, persisting in what he knew was nearly impossible.

This passage examines Zhuge Liang's (Marquis Zhongwu) loyalty and political stance. It argues that when Emperor Xian of Han had already lost real power, if Liu Bei (Emperor Zhaolie) hadn't declared himself emperor, the Han dynasty's legitimate succession would have fallen into Cao Cao's hands. Zhuge Liang steadfastly upheld the principle of "not coexisting with Han traitors," exhausting himself in assisting Liu Bei to continue the Han lineage—such loyalty is beyond question.

Later historians like Zhu Xi (Yuanhui) affirmed Zhuge Liang's reputation in Outline and Details of the Comprehensive Mirror, officially recognizing Shu Han's legitimacy. The author composed these words at the Zhuge Wuhou Shrine in Yizhou (present-day Chengdu) precisely to defend Zhuge Liang, demonstrating his profound understanding of righteousness and the correct choices he made during difficult times.

Wang Shiqi (styled Jiongbo) adds: Zhuge Liang and Xu Shu deeply understood each other. After joining Liu Bei, Xu Shu was forced to serve Cao Cao when his mother was captured, yet his heart remained with Shu; similarly, Huang Quan, who surrendered to Wei, always maintained his allegiance to Shu Han. This reflects Zhuge Liang's perceptive understanding of human sentiment.

Wang Jiongbo particularly highlights Zhuge Liang's legendary "seven captures of Meng Huo," considering this virtue-based subjugation unprecedented in history. It won the sincere submission of southern minority tribes, an influence that remains vivid even after a millennium. This reveals Zhuge Liang's mastery not only of military strategy but also of winning hearts through benevolence and righteousness.

This passage records several historical evaluations and anecdotes about Zhuge Liang, primarily concerning three incidents:

The first recounts the story of Li Miao (courtesy name Hannan). When Liu Bei served as Governor of Yizhou, Li Miao nearly faced execution for blunt remonstrance until Zhuge Liang interceded to save him. Later, as an army advisor to the chancellor, Li Miao again offended Zhuge Liang with his outspoken advice after Ma Su's defeat at Jieting. Following Zhuge Liang's death, Li Miao shockingly submitted a memorial comparing Zhuge's authoritarianism to Lü Bu and Huo Yu, describing him as a "wolf and tiger threatening the sovereign." Emperor Liu Shan was enraged and had Li Miao imprisoned and executed. Wang Jiongbo commented that Li Miao was truly a treacherous individual.

The second incident analyzes the literary meaning of the "Later Memorial on the Campaign." Wang Jiongbo proposed that when the memorial referenced Liu Yao and Wang Lang missing opportunities that allowed Sun Ce to grow stronger, Zhuge Liang might have been drawing a parallel between himself and Liu/Wang while likening Cao Pi to Sun Ce. This novel interpretation gained approval from judicial officials, who suggested it might originate from Zhang Yan's "Silent Records," though with possible textual omissions.

The third episode concerns Xu Jing's deeds. When Xu Jing considered surrendering by opening city gates, Liu Bei initially despised him. Fa Zheng advised that although Xu Jing's reputation exceeded his actual merits, his fame commanded public respect, and treating him courteously would win popular support. Later, Zhuge Liang also paid respects to Xu Jing, demonstrating how great minds think alike. Wang Jiongbo cited Su Shi's evaluation that Zhuge Liang's "Memorial on the Campaign" possessed the same profundity as the "Instructions of Yi" and "Charge to Yue" from the "Book of Documents."

These accounts reveal Zhuge Liang's wisdom in handling interpersonal relationships and later scholars' explorations of his writings' deeper meanings. Notably, the frequent appearance of commentator Wang Jiongbo stands out—he analyzes Zhuge Liang's governance principles and textual connotations through concrete examples.

This passage examines Zhuge Liang's (courtesy name Kongming, posthumous title Marquis Zhongwu) talents and historical assessments. The author refutes contemporary criticisms of Zhuge Liang as unfair.

Some criticize Zhuge Liang's writings for lacking ornate beauty, but the author argues that just as the ancient sage minister Gao Yao (advisor to Emperor Shun) employed concise and elegant strategies, and the Duke of Zhou (founding minister of the Zhou dynasty) crafted meticulous and comprehensive admonitions, literary style depends on the audience. Zhuge Liang often spoke to ordinary people, so his writing was plain and accessible. Comparing him to the Duke of Zhou is already the highest praise.

Regarding criticisms of his military prowess, the author attributes this to Chen Shou (compiler of Records of the Three Kingdoms) writing disingenuously to flatter Sima Yi. In truth, Chen Shou understood Zhuge Liang's real strengths: he excelled in military discipline and civil governance but was slightly less adept at unconventional tactics. Combined with formidable opponents (like Sima Yi), numerical disadvantages, and unfavorable strategic conditions, these factors led to the failed northern campaigns. Just as Xiao He recommended Han Xin, and Guan Zhong promoted Prince Chengfu, each person's talents have their focus—one cannot demand universal mastery. Zhuge Liang's administrative abilities rivaled Guan Zhong and Xiao He; he simply lacked a general like Han Xin to support him.

The author specifically rebuts Su Shi's (Dongpo) critique that Zhuge Liang could neither win trust through righteousness nor outmaneuver Cao Wei with strategy. This claim is clearly mistaken—taking Liu Zhang's territory did not violate trust, Cao Pi's usurpation was already inevitable, and what could Cao Zhi have done? Even after death, Zhuge Liang's reputation frightened Sima Yi (living Zhongda)—how can this be called repeated defeat? Such careless remarks are truly regrettable.

Finally, the passage explains the purpose of compiling this collection: earlier anthologies emphasized recording deeds, while this one prioritizes preserving words. The former concerns statecraft; the latter reveals literary brilliance. Through Zhuge Liang's writings, later generations can sense his loyal heart, and these texts remain instructive today. This also confirms that Chen Shou was not ignorant of Zhuge Liang's merits—some assessments were simply constrained by circumstances.

The conclusion notes that Yang Qushe, in his preface to the collection, cited nineteen commentaries, demonstrating that evaluations of Zhuge Liang have long been debated.

This preface discusses the joint publication of literary collections by Zhuge Liang (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) and Tao Yuanming (posthumously titled Master Jingjie). Some questioned this pairing, arguing that while Zhuge Liang served as a statesman, Tao Yuanming lived as a recluse—how could their diametrically opposed life choices warrant combined publication?

The author responds using the "Dragon Virtue" (long de) concept from the Yijing (Book of Changes): True virtue, like a dragon, manifests or withdraws according to circumstance. During the chaotic late Han and Jin periods, Zhuge Liang exhausted himself serving Shu Han, while Tao Yuanming—though living in seclusion—expressed identical political ideals through works like "Narrating Wine" and "Ode to Jing Ke." Both maintained moral integrity unlike contemporaries like Xun Yu or Chen Qun who curried favor with the powerful.

Notably, Zhuge Liang and his son died defending Mianzhu—none of his five sons sought empty fame. Tao Yuanming's declaration that he "wouldn't bow for five pecks of rice" exemplified nobility surpassing literati who flattered the powerful. Though Eastern Han literature lacked Western Han's vigor, and Jin poetry often indulged in frivolity, Zhuge Liang's "Memorial on the Expedition" and Tao Yuanming's "Returning Home" shine eternally like sun and moon.

A telling example concludes: When compiling Models of Literature, Southern Song scholar Xie Fangde annotated every text except these two masterpieces—daring not add commentary to their perfection. This demonstrates how both men's spiritual heights and literary merit transcend their divergent life paths.

This passage serves as the preface by Yang Qushe and Yang Shiwei to the Collected Works of Zhuge the Marquis of Zhongwu (Zhuge Zhongwuhou Ji) from the Ming dynasty, expressing regret over the scattered state of Zhuge Liang's writings and their meticulous efforts in recompiling them.

The authors first reflect on the virtue of Zhuge Liang (posthumously titled Marquis of Zhongwu), whose wisdom was as elusive and profound as a divine dragon—capable of assisting Liu Bei with effortless grace, yet also content to withdraw into seclusion in Longzhong without seeking fame. This adaptability in conduct, neither rigid nor forced, allows later generations to grasp its wisdom without needing to alter their circumstances.

They then outline the historical state of Zhuge Liang’s collected works: Chen Shou’s Records of the Three Kingdoms (Sanguo Zhi) originally documented twenty-four chapters, including texts like On Governance and Pastoral Duties (Kaifu Zuomu), which Pei Songzhi later cited in his annotations. However, by the time of Su Shi and Ye Shi, the complete collection was no longer extant, indicating its long dispersal. Recently, Wang Jiongbo recompiled the Complete Works of Marquis Wu (Wuhou Quanshu), preserving not only Zhuge Liang’s key writings but also aiding in the promotion of loyalty and filial piety.

Yang Shiwei adds in a supplementary note that this edition builds upon Wang Jiongbo’s compilation but restructures a third of its content and revises nine-tenths of the text—not out of a desire for novelty but for accuracy. He specifically notes that Liangfu Yin (Song of Liangfu) may not be Zhuge Liang’s original work, as the existing version lacks depth, and the literary style of Huangling Miao Ji (Record of the Huangling Temple) does not match that of his era.

Finally, they explain the title: Zhuge Liang was enfeoffed as Marquis of Wuxiang and posthumously honored as Zhongwu, yet later generations often abbreviated this to "Marquis Wu." The title Collected Works of Zhuge the Marquis of Zhongwu (Zhuge Zhongwuhou Shu) clarifies that this is a compilation of his writings, not presumptuously called a "complete collection." As for dubious attributions like Xin Shu (New Book) and Jiang Yuan (The General’s Garden), even if earlier scholars did not question them, they now demand careful scrutiny—preferring omission over inclusion of doubtful material.

When compiling the Collected Works of Zhuge Liang, the Loyal and Martial Marquis of Han, Yang Qushe noted that while this anthology gathered a wealth of historical records and local chronicles, certain sections were excessively verbose and even included unverified legends from Baopuzi. He considered only the critiques by Yang Jian, Chen Shou, Zhang Yan, Yuan Xiaoni, and Xi Zuochi to be reliable. For epitaphs, he retained only those by Liu Zhennan and Pei Jingong, while the poetry selection was limited to a few masterpieces by Li Bai, Du Fu, and Su Shi—all others were excised.

Yang Qushe observed that Liu Bei (Xuande) and Zhuge Liang (Kongming) possessed the magnanimity of sage-kings like Yao and Shun, with the scene of Liu's deathbed entrustment of his heir rivaling the noble precedents of antiquity. Chen Shou praised their ruler-minister relationship as one of absolute mutual trust, a model for all ages. Sun Sheng's criticism of this as hypocrisy was, in Yang's view, profoundly mistaken—what room could there be for calculation in such a moment of sacred trust? Later generations' conspiratorial interpretations were strained at best.

He reflected that perfect loyalty and filial piety are rare across millennia, and maintaining family virtue through generations rarer still. Yet Zhuge Liang (the Loyal and Martial Marquis) left no cause for regret here. The three Zhuge brothers served the Three Kingdoms respectively, each loyal to their sovereign. Though Zhuge Jin faced suspicion in Wu and Zhuge Dan's clan was exterminated in Wei, neither failing was their own. By comparison, Zhuge Liang's posthumous honors and enduring reverence far surpassed his brothers. Zhuge Ke, despite his talents, courted disaster without dying for his state; Zhuge Zhan's heroic death still paled beside Zhuge Liang's legacy.

Regarding the Battle of Bowang Slope, Yang noted Chen Shou's Records of the Three Kingdoms dates it before 206 CE, while the Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage occurred in 207 CE. Folklore mistakenly attributes the "burning of Bowang" as Zhuge Liang's "first triumph after leaving seclusion," with Xie Shaolian and Wang Jiongbo erroneously placing it after the Three Visits. In truth, Liu Bei was already a capable strategist—not all victories need be credited to Zhuge Liang. Moreover, histories merely mention "burning supplies," not enemy camps.

On Later Lord Liu Shan, Yang offered an unconventional perspective. Though Liu Shan's forty-year reign achieved little, earning him a reputation for mediocrity, Yang discerned remarkable poise and resolve in three acts: his complete trust in Zhuge Liang, delegating all governance without interference; maintaining the ministerial system unchanged for thirty years after Zhuge's death; and executing Li Miao for slandering Zhuge Liang. This last act in particular—beyond ordinary capability—revealed extraordinary fortitude.

Scholar Yang Qushe raises several questions regarding historical records about Zhuge Liang. He notes that in a letter to his elder brother Zhuge Jin, Zhuge Liang expressed grief over the loss of Ziqiao (Zhuge Qiao, his adopted son). However, textual research reveals that Sun Quan's son Sun Song died in 231 (the third year of the Huanglong era), while Zhuge Qiao had passed away as early as 223 (the first year of the Jianxing era), a nine-year discrepancy. If this letter was truly mourning Sun Song, its emotional tone would be entirely incongruous—a puzzling inconsistency.

Regarding the interpretation of the term "bai er" (白毦): previous scholars mistakenly understood "er" (毦) as a hat ornament until scholar Qian Gongfu pointed out that it actually refers to feather decorations (derived from the "ear" radical rather than the "eye" radical). This demonstrates how minor errors in reading characters can lead to significant misinterpretations.

During Zhuge Liang's northern expedition in 234 (the twelfth year of Jianxing), he coordinated with Eastern Wu for a pincer attack. Yang Qushe reflects that had celestial omens been favorable (with auspicious planetary alignments), the Wei state would have been indefensible. Lu Xun's (styled Yuanxun) proposed strategy—"Wu attacks from the east, Han from the west"—was brilliant, yet heaven did not favor the Han, resulting in ultimate failure. Yang considers Lu Xun's loyalty and moral integrity comparable to that of Zhou Yu and Lu Su.

Finally, the discussion touches on Zhuge Liang's southern campaigns, whose achievements shine through the ages, yet Chen Shou (author of Records of the Three Kingdoms) recorded them too briefly—an observation echoing the regrets of Song dynasty scholar Xu Yinglong (styled Bogong). This analysis reveals historical research challenges like chronological discrepancies and textual exegesis, while conveying profound lament for Zhuge Liang's unfulfilled ambitions.

Yang Qushe made several important textual critiques and commentaries in his work "Collected Works of Zhuge Liang, the Loyal Martial Marquis of Han":

Regarding the records of Zhuge Liang’s northern campaigns, he pointed out that the original title Beichu Quanshu (Complete Book of the Northern Expeditions) should more accurately be renamed Beifa (Northern Punitive Campaigns). The edicts of Emperor Liu Shan and Zhuge Liang’s Memorial on the Expedition all embody an enduring righteous spirit, but earlier compilations were disordered—now they have been properly reorganized. Though Zhuge Liang’s ambitions remained unfulfilled, leaving heroes to weep in regret, Yang still included Jiang Wei’s (styled Wenchang) risky strategies and the tactics of Jiang Wei (styled Boyue) and Lu Xun (styled Yuanxun) as appendices.

On the subject of Sima Yi (styled Zhongda) facing Zhuge Liang in battle, Yang Qushe analyzed: Sima Yi retreated upon encountering Zhuge Liang at Chenggu, avoided battle again at Shanggui, and after suffering a major defeat at Lucheng, could only hold firm south of the Wei River. In truth, Sima Yi privately feared Zhuge Liang but feigned composure to steady his troops, even enduring mockery for being "as timid as a tiger before Shu" and the humiliation of being sent women’s garments. This demonstrates Zhuge Liang’s exceptional military prowess—so formidable that even Sima Yi struggled to anticipate his moves. The analogy of "two rival chess masters" is thus inaccurate.

Concerning military formations, Yang cited Li Jing’s Liu Hua (Six-Petal) Formation, arguing it derived from Zhuge Liang’s Ba Zhen Tu (Eightfold Battle Array). He agreed with Su Shi’s view: true mastery of warfare lies not in rigid patterns. Figures like Ma Long and Li Jing grasped the essence of Zhuge Liang’s tactics and applied their principles flexibly under different names.

Regarding the location of Zhuge Liang’s Eightfold Array, Yang Qushe verified that Zhuge Liang did not accompany Liu Bei’s campaign against Wu, though Yang Shen (literary name Sheng’an) speculated the ruins at Kuizhou might have been arranged by Zhuge Liang as a precaution against Wu. Yong’an Palace (also called Baidi Castle) was where Liu Bei entrusted his heir, referenced in Du Fu’s line "the year of his death was also at Yong’an Palace"—yet its exact construction date remains uncertain.

Lastly, Yang touched on Zhuge Liang’s early years in Jingzhou: only a few, like Pang Degong, Sima Decao, and Xu Yuanzhi, recognized his talent. Though Liu Bei sought worthy men fervently, he only learned of Zhuge Liang through Xu Shu’s recommendation. Yang questioned: how could Cao Cao have considered employing Zhuge Liang before even securing Jingzhou? The term "defiled ruler" (wujun)—whether self-applied by Cao Cao or assigned by others—remains unclear in origin.

This passage examines several debated aspects of Zhuge Liang's (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) life, presenting scholarly perspectives for analysis.

Regarding Zhuge Liang's hermitage location, Yang Qushe notes that during Liu Biao's governance of Jingzhou when Liu Bei resided there, Cao Cao was engaged in prolonged warfare against Yuan Shao and his sons across Youzhou and Jizhou. Consequently, the Xiangyang region never became a contested zone between Cao and Liu forces. This explains why Liu Bei had leisure to lament "the flesh returning to my thighs" (a sigh about prolonged inactivity from horseback combat). Had Xiangyang truly been a strategic military hotspot, how could Zhuge Liang have peacefully retreated there, climbing heights to chant the "Liangfu Yin" poem?

Two theories exist about Zhuge Liang's residence: One places it at Wolonggang seven li southwest of Nanyang commandery's capital, but Wang Shizhen (alias Yanzhou) questions this given the region's turmoil during late Han warfare. The alternative theory, supported by Song dynasty notes and the Commentary on the Water Classic, locates it at Longzhong near Xiangyang—the famed "thatched cottage" of Liu Bei's Three Visits. This is corroborated by Liu Hong's record of commissioning Li An to compose a "Residence Inscription" while garrisoning Xiangyang.

The text also recounts two anecdotes: First, despite Zhuge Liang's discernment in choosing a worthy lord (Liu Bei), he married a plain-looking wife. Yang Qushe interprets this as proof of his exceptional judgment, suggesting his wife—who taught him the wooden ox and gliding horse transport technologies—was providentially sent to assist him. Second, the compiler admits initially omitting Wang Tong's (Master Wenzhong) evaluation of Zhuge Liang from the Collected Works of Marquis Zhongwu until a friend's reminder prompted reflection on the inevitable limitations of individual scholarship.

This passage demonstrates classical scholars' rigorous scrutiny of historical details through geographical verification and multifaceted assessments of Zhuge Liang's marriage and talents, concluding with humble acknowledgment of academic inquiry's inherent constraints.

The Confucian scholars of the Song dynasty all disagreed with Wang Tong's (styled Zhongzi) evaluation of Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming). When asked why, a guest replied: "If names and duties are not properly aligned, words will not flow logically; if speech lacks coherence, actions will falter, and the rites and music systems cannot flourish. When Zhuge Liang declared, 'The Han and traitors cannot coexist,' his stance was principled and his words compelling—what could he not achieve? Whether through peaceful abdication or military conquest, he was thoroughly prepared. His enforcement of laws was so just that some wept in admiration and even fell ill from emotion. The governance models of Yao and Shun, the Three Dynasties, and the foundations laid by Emperor Gaozu of Han and Emperor Guangwu—Zhuge Liang fulfilled them all without regret.

To discard these and seek so-called rites and music elsewhere would only yield the rites and music of later ages, never those of Yao, Shun, the Duke of Zhou, or Confucius. Moreover, Zhuge Liang rectified names and duties in Shu-Han just as Confucius did in Wei. That he calmly embodied the Dao of rites and music goes without saying; even when he died in hostile territory and his descendants fell in battle, he remained steadfast and harmonious with Heaven and Earth. By contrast, the Southern Song could not even clarify its own legitimacy—its rites were corrupted, its music ruined—yet it laid down arms to idly discuss rites and music, even seeking them from foreign lands. In this light, Shu-Han never truly perished, while the Song never truly existed.

For the Song's sake, the only path was for the ruler to die for the state (as symbolized by the mourning mat, shan kuai) and ministers to fall in battle (as symbolized by armor and weapons, jin ge), like Yue Fei (styled Pengju), whose soaring ambition drove him to storm the enemy capital at Huanglong. Even if they perished in the attempt, it would be far nobler than clinging to survival in disgrace for a century!"

Someone asked: "Could Zhuge Liang and Yue Fei have truly destroyed Wei and crushed the Jin? It's hard to say. Sima Yi was a master of defense, and Wanyan Zongbi (Jin Wuzhu) was cunning—neither could be easily subdued. Besides, both Zhuge Liang and Yue Fei stood alone in their loyalty, with few to aid them. As for Zhuge Liang's passing under a falling star and Yue Fei's wrongful imprisonment, though Heaven's will seemed unkind, perhaps it was the finest conclusion for such loyal ministers."

After the guest departed, I found his words worthy of reflection and recorded them lest they be forgotten. Written on the sweltering fifteenth day of the sixth month in the jiwei year, by Sun [X], bared in the humble "Snail Hut."

Regarding military strategy, there are matters that should not be spoken of, and others that must be discussed. Take Duke Ling of Wei (a ruler during the Spring and Autumn period) as an example—as a feudal lord, his duty was to uphold ritual propriety, not to inquire about battle formations. Given his own moral failings, he should have focused on cultivating virtue (De) rather than studying warfare. Yet he insisted on asking, which is why Confucius refused to answer—this exemplifies what "should not be spoken of."

However, Confucius's refusal was itself a lesson in moral instruction. In truth, Confucius once said, "If I were to wage war, I would surely prevail." When petitioning to punish a wrongdoing state, he remarked, "With the forces of Lu and half of Qi's army, victory should be assured." Clearly, had Confucius been entrusted with governing the realm and pacifying the land, he would have had his own distinctive approach to military affairs. One thing is certain: he would never have sent untrained masses to their deaths. In his time, commanders were too busy drilling troops to even discuss military strategy—this is precisely what "must be discussed."

Today, some scholars who know nothing of warfare use Confucius's refusal as an excuse. They fail to grasp the deeper meaning behind it: the Way (Dao) encompasses both civil and martial virtues. To claim, "I only understand morality; military affairs are not my concern," and dismiss all questions—whether appropriate or not—is sheer pedantry that leads to grave errors. What use are such Confucians to the world?

In ancient times, no army exemplified benevolence and righteousness more than King Wu of Zhou, and no advisor surpassed Jiang Taigong in serving a wise ruler. By principle, they should have concerned themselves solely with virtue (De) and the people's hearts, not ambushes or battle formations. Yet the Six Secret Teachings (a military text attributed to Taigong) contains detailed chapters like "Cloud-Dark Mountain Warfare" and "Cloud-Dark Marsh Warfare." Does this mean King Wu and Taigong abandoned righteousness for deception? Not at all—they understood that when virtue alone cannot sway others, arms must be employed. Thus, the art of commanding troops and subduing enemies had to be mastered. Some may argue the Six Secret Teachings is a later fabrication by Warring States strategists, but even the Book of Songs and Book of Documents, those canonical works of sage-kings, record principles of warfare.

This passage discusses ancient military formations, primarily emphasizing the importance of command structure and battlefield discipline. It cites several famous historical battles to illustrate this principle.

For example, during the Battle of Youhushi in the Xia dynasty, commanders strictly enforced orders: soldiers on the left who did not attack the left flank were disobeying commands, those on the right who failed to strike the right flank were likewise in violation, and charioteers who did not properly control their horses were also guilty of insubordination. Similarly, before the Battle of Muye, King Wu of Zhou declared in his oath: "In today’s battle, advance no more than six or seven steps before halting to reorganize formations, and strike no more than four to seven times before regrouping."

The text also explains the naming conventions of ancient battle formations: some were based on the "Three Powers" (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity)—such as the Heaven Formation, arranged according to celestial bodies like the sun, moon, and stars; the Earth Formation, which utilized mountain and river terrain; and the Human Formation, structured around chariots, cavalry, and the deployment of civil and military officials. Others were named after the "Five Seasons" (spring, summer, late summer, autumn, and winter), with different weapons serving as the vanguard in each season. There were also formations modeled after the "Four Symbols" (Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise), where troops imitated the shapes of these divine creatures, as well as formations designed according to the attributes of the "Five Phases" (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth).

Finally, the passage mentions the most famous formation, the "Eight-Diagram Battle Array" (Bagua Zhen), noting that while specific names and arrangements vary among different schools, they all reflect the ancient military strategists' philosophy of designing tactics based on natural laws and practical combat needs. The author criticizes later generations for focusing on superficial names rather than actual effectiveness, viewing this as a misguided approach that neglects fundamentals.

This passage discusses the origins and evolution of the ancient military formation known as the "Eight Arrays" (Bazhen), with particular emphasis on the contributions of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming).

The Eight Arrays derive their names from eight natural phenomena: Heaven, Earth, Wind, Cloud, Dragon, Tiger, Bird, and Serpent. While interpretations vary among different schools, military strategists generally accept this classification. In truth, the origins of the Eight Arrays can be traced back to the Yellow Emperor's era, developed into a complete system during the Zhou dynasty, and were innovatively transformed by Zhuge Liang.

The Yellow Emperor established the earliest battle formations by studying the Bagua (Eight Trigrams). The Duke of Zhou later developed this system using the "Well-Field System" (an ancient land division method), creating a hierarchical structure where nine households formed a well (jing) and four wells made a settlement (yi), while also instituting the military organization of "five soldiers per squad." Zhuge Liang, while preserving the profound principles of the Yellow Emperor and incorporating Zhou dynasty methods, reformed the system according to contemporary needs, ultimately perfecting the Eight Arrays.

The formation's specific structure consists of eight columns horizontally and vertically, totaling sixty-four smaller arrays corresponding to the Bagua. The army divides into three forces, each deploying in the "five soldiers per squad" formation to create eighty-one arrays matching the Nine Palaces (Jiugong). This demonstrates Zhuge Liang's profound understanding of ancient military principles.

The author concludes by citing Li Xing's observation that the Eight Arrays did not originate with Sun Wu or Wu Qi (two renowned military strategists), nor are they recorded in their writings, because Zhuge Liang's formations directly inherited the older traditions of the Yellow Emperor and the Duke of Zhou.

This passage discusses the transmission and application of the ancient military strategy known as the "Eight Formations." The origins of this strategy can be traced back to the era of the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi), reaching maturity during the Zhou dynasty before being further developed by Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming).

The Yellow Emperor employed the Eight Formations to campaign north against the Xunyu (nomadic tribes) and pacify the south by subduing Chiyou (a legendary tribal leader). He quelled the Li people at the Battle of Banquan and toured the sacred Daoist mountain Kongtong to stabilize the realm. The Duke of Zhou later used this strategy to overthrow King Zhou of Shang, conquer the Yan state, repel the Rongdi tribes, and punish the Jing-Shu southern clans. By Zhuge Liang's era, he applied the Eight Formations to pacify Nanzhong (modern Yunnan), awe the Guanzhong region, slay the Wei generals Wang Shuang and Zhang He, repel Guo Huai, and ultimately establish the Three Kingdoms equilibrium.

Later military scholars all sought to study the Eight Formations, yet few truly mastered them. Huan Wen of the Jin dynasty feigned understanding while remaining ignorant—when encountering remnants of the formations, he deceived his officers by calling them the "Changshan Snake Formation" (a head-to-tail coordinated tactic), which was merely one variation within the Eight Formations system. In contrast, the Tang dynasty strategist Li Jing genuinely inherited its essence. When Emperor Taizong inquired about the origins of the "Six Petals Formation," Li Jing clarified it evolved from Zhuge Liang's system, featuring nested formations within formations and interconnected battalions. He grasped not just the Eight Formations' structure but their underlying principles.

The core philosophy of the Eight Formations ultimately reduces to two characters: "Qi-Zheng" (unconventional and conventional tactics combined). Ancient military organization of 12,000 troops followed precisely this dual principle.

This passage discusses the "Eight Formations" military strategy system created by the ancient strategist Zhuge Liang. At its core, it explains how armies should divide into extraordinary (qi) and orthodox (zheng) troops, deploying formations based on four orthodox arrays (Heaven, Earth, Wind, Cloud) and four extraordinary arrays (Dragon, Tiger, Bird, Snake).

Specifically: Five hundred soldiers form an army unit, subdivided into 1,125 "wu" (five-person squads) and 250 "liang" (two-person teams). Thirty percent serve as extraordinary troops, while seventy percent constitute orthodox forces. These four extraordinary and four orthodox configurations create the eight tactical formations. Deployment follows celestial patterns: swirling formations mirror the vault of heaven, straight-line arrays reflect the solid earth, dispersed units emulate wind currents, and wedge-shaped vanguards imitate cloud formations.

Combat application also distinguishes between extraordinary and orthodox tactics: the commander remains stationary at the center while mobile detachments maneuver flexibly on the periphery. Troops maintain formation during movement with coordinated front-rear and left-right support—advancing like interconnected fish schools, holding positions like geese in flight. Long weapons cover short weapons, while short weapons protect long weapons. During formation transitions, front and rear units alternate positions with measured advances and retreats, preserving combat readiness even when disrupted.

Preemptive strikes should be swift and fierce (yang in nature), while reactive defenses remain firm and impenetrable (yin in character). These tactical variations prove endless, like a circle without beginning or end. The author concludes that while benevolent armies ideally achieve victory without battle, this strategy remains effective against intractable enemies. Following the principle of yin-yang transformation, when chaotic times arise (pure Kun hexagram's yin dominance), warfare becomes inevitable (like flying dragons battling in the wild).

This passage explores the relationship between warfare and benevolent governance, as well as the enduring value of Zhuge Liang's (the Marquis of Zhongwu) Eight Formation strategy.

In ancient times when the world was in turmoil, the Yellow Emperor (progenitor of Chinese civilization) established military principles in accordance with the times. The Star of Culture (Wenchang, Daoist deity of literature) appointed generals and transmitted strategic formations to later generations—actions taken out of necessity. The concept of "preserving life through controlled violence" refers to using military deterrence against lawbreakers to achieve civil governance through De (Virtue). Yet later Confucian scholars criticized this approach, even disparaging the military traditions inherited by Zhuge Liang. How would these critics respond if suddenly confronted with foreign invasion?

Those who neither emulate the Yellow Emperor and Zhuge Liang in cultivating De through disciplined methods, nor restrain their bloodlust and plundering instincts, bring immeasurable suffering to the people. Battle formations like the Fish-Scale Array of Zheng, the Goose-Crane Array of Wei, the Three Armies of Jin, or the Double Vanguard of Chu served only rulers' selfish ambitions, reducing commoners to cannon fodder. How could noble-minded scholars not lament such atrocities? Confucius refused to discuss military matters with Duke Ling of Wei, while Mencius condemned "those skilled in formations and warfare as enemies of the people"—precisely targeting such tyranny.

Neither humaneness nor strategy should be neglected: exclusive emphasis on benevolence leads to impractical idealism, while pure strategizing descends into cunning. Thus the author particularly extols Zhuge Liang's Eight Formation strategy—it serves both as a military model for posterity and prevents the recurrence of brutal tactics like the Fish-Scale Array, aligning perfectly with Confucius' original intent of prioritizing ritual and moral education.

Regarding field research on the Eight Formation site at Kuizhou (modern Fengjie, Chongqing): This world-renowned ancient battlefield has endured millennia at the Yangtze River's gorges. Previously misled by hearsay during brief visits, the author only comprehended its structure after assuming local office and surveying it from elevated vantage points. The formation platform stands imposing, its stone embankments level and boulders arranged with geometric precision. Research reveals Zhuge Liang's tactical essence lies in the interplay of square/circular and orthodox/unorthodox configurations: the front eight arrays face eastward in rigid rectangular formations, while twelve rear arrays flank north-south in fluid circular patterns. Square formations represent defensive orthodox tactics, circular ones offensive unorthodox maneuvers.

This passage explains the operational principles of "regular and irregular forces" (qizheng) in ancient military formations, with particular analysis of the ingenious aspects of Zhuge Liang's (Marquis Wu) Eight Trigrams Formation.

Military formations emphasize the coordination between square formations (fixed arrangements) and circular formations (flexible mobility), much like the mutual generation of Yin and Yang. Ancient formations typically divided troops into eight sections, which later evolved into twelve. Zhuge Liang’s Eight Trigrams Formation designated 64 units (8×8) as the "regular forces" (main troops) and 24 units (3×8) as the "irregular forces" (mobile troops), equivalent to allocating three out of eleven sections as irregular forces—a more precise ratio than the ancient "three out of ten" standard.

The essence of formations lies in the interplay of Yin and Yang: square formations belong to Yin, representing stability, while circular formations belong to Yang, representing mobility. In Zhuge Liang’s Eight Trigrams Formation, the vanguard of 64 units formed a square (Yin), while the rear guard of 24 units formed a circle (Yang), creating a ratio of two Yin to one Yang. This resembles the Yijing (Book of Changes), where two Yin lines and one Yang line form the Zhen (Thunder) trigram, and doubling them produces the Lin (Approach) hexagram with four Yin and two Yang lines—possibly the very inspiration for Zhuge Liang’s design.

Historically, irregular forces were deployed in three main ways: Li Jing (a renowned Tang dynasty general) placed them in the central army ("holding the irregular"); Han Xin (Marquis of Huaiyin) positioned them on the flanks during the Battle of Gaixia; while Zhuge Liang pioneered the tactic of concealing irregular forces in the rear. Sima Qian’s records of the Battle of Gaixia describe Han Xin leading 200,000 regular troops in a frontal assault, with Liu Bang commanding from the rear, flanked by Generals Kong and Fei, while Zhou Bo (Marquis of Jiang) and General Chai held the back. When Han Xin’s initial attack faltered, the irregular forces on the wings turned the tide—a tactical arrangement that aligns closely with Zhuge Liang’s strategic thinking.

This passage primarily discusses Zhuge Liang's (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) military prowess and governance achievements, along with later generations' evaluations of him.

Regarding military strategy, it mentions how Han Xin (Marquis of Huaiyin) excelled at using weak troops to lure enemies while deploying elite forces on the flanks for surprise attacks. Zhuge Liang's military methods were even more meticulous—he positioned his main forces to firmly hold defensive lines while concealing special troops in the rear to await opportunities. This tactic kept adversaries like Sima Yi from daring to engage in direct confrontation.

Yang Jian's eulogy praises Zhuge Liang: By the Yangtze River he offered strategic counsel, forging the Wu-Shu alliance against Cao Wei. After accepting Liu Bei's deathbed entrustment, he reorganized the military and promoted civil governance, using moral virtue (De) to educate the people, bringing internal stability and border peace. Each military campaign demonstrated extraordinary strategic brilliance, though ultimately he couldn't complete the unification of the realm.

Su Shi's evaluation observes: Western Han strategists excelled in schemes but lacked moral fortitude, while Eastern Han scholars upheld integrity but lacked tactical flexibility. Only eminent ministers of the Three Kingdoms period (like Zhuge Liang) combined both qualities. Zhuge Liang's bearing rivaled the virtuous chancellors of the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties—he cannot be judged by ordinary worldly standards.

In his portrait eulogy, Su Shi describes Zhuge Liang's warfare: "Precise as ghosts and deities, swift as wind and thunder. When advancing, unstoppable; when retreating, traceless. Unassailable by day, unambushable by night." Regardless of enemy numbers, his forces remained formidable, coordinating seamlessly across all directions. He could seemingly alter the operations of the Five Phases (Wuxing) and the succession of four seasons—truly embodying the prowess of an immortal sage, fully deserving his "Crouching Dragon" epithet.

Zhang Shi's eulogy emphasizes his character: Zhuge Liang steadfastly upheld righteousness with impeccable conduct. Originally living in seclusion at Nanyang intending to retire, he emerged only after Liu Bei's three visits. He mastered the art of assessing circumstances, grasping pivotal moments amid turbulent times. After establishing grand strategies, all subsidiary matters naturally fell into place.

This passage presents eulogies by several historical figures honoring Zhuge Liang (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu). Yang Weizhen praises Zhuge Liang's achievements in allying with Eastern Wu and pacifying Nanyue (modern Guangdong-Guangxi region), stating that under his governance the people lived in peace and prosperity, comparable to ancient virtuous ministers like Yi Yin and the Duke of Zhou. Song Lian declares Zhuge Liang the only figure since the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang, Zhou) who truly embodied the Way of ancient sage-kings, serving his lord with utter loyalty and complete transparency—though ultimately unsuccessful, this outcome reflected Heaven's will rather than any personal inadequacy. Fang Xiaoru admires how Zhuge Liang upheld moral principles during chaotic times, possessing wisdom sufficient to quell disorder, yet unfortunately lacking Heaven's favor. Yang Pu encapsulates Zhuge Liang's devotion to reclaiming the Central Plains through two iconic moments: the "Three Visits to the Thatched Hut" (Liu Bei's repeated invitations) and the "Two Memorials on Campaigns" (his famous pre-battle petitions).

These tributes collectively highlight Zhuge Liang's image as a peerlessly loyal and brilliant statesman, worthy of standing alongside ancient worthies like Yi Yin and Lü Shang (Jiang Ziya). Though his northern expeditions failed, this in no way diminishes his greatness—rather, it accentuates his tireless dedication. All authors criticize those who judge heroes solely by success or failure, or who interpret Zhuge Liang's actions through scheming stratagems, considering such people fundamentally incapable of comprehending his luminous and magnanimous spirit.

This collection comprises later generations' poetic tributes to Zhuge Liang (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu), organized in three sections:

Liu Weide's eulogy laments the decline of the Eastern Han Dynasty when the Sleeping Dragon of Nanyang (Zhuge Liang) assisted Liu Bei in establishing the Three Kingdoms balance, creating the Eight Formation Diagrams military strategy in Shu. His loyalty rivaled the sun and moon, his moral integrity like a rainbow across the sky, making him the preeminent hero of his age and through the ages. Though rulers of Wei and Wu were also renowned for wisdom, Zhuge Liang's talents surpassed even legendary statesmen like Guan Zhong and Yue Yi. Had he lived during the eras of Tang of Shang or Wu of Zhou, his capabilities would have matched Yi Yin or the Duke of Zhou. His devoted service unto exhaustion remains an eternal model for posterity.

Yuan Hong's ode depicts Zhuge Liang biding his time in seclusion (panhuan si shi), emulating Guan Zhong and Yue Yi. He governed with ritual propriety and judicious punishments, leaving no grievances among the people. Accepting the weighty trust of a dying ruler's orphaned heir, he received complete confidence from Later Lord Liu Shan, undertaking his charge with composure. This rare harmony between ruler and minister, coupled with the people's trust, forms an admirable tale. The text particularly emphasizes Zhuge Liang's magnanimity and prescience—like a hidden dragon (chujiu longpan) awaiting its moment amidst chaos, ultimately becoming the pillar supporting a crumbling realm.

The final section presents an official 1539 Ming Dynasty memorial from the Jiajing Emperor, who dispatched Consort Wu Jinghe and others to offer sacrifices to Zhuge Liang. The document references his retreat at Longzhong (yanggao Longzhong) until Liu Bei's three visits compelled his emergence, followed by his famed "First and Second Memorials on the Expedition" expressing his resolve. It highlights his strategic victories over Cao Cao (styled Mengde) and intimidation of Sima Yi (styled Zhongda), lamenting how his general's star fell while his spirit endures eternally.

This text records two sacrificial orations from the 24th year of the Hongwu era (1391) during the Ming Dynasty, when the Prince of Shu paid homage to Emperor Zhaolie of Han (Liu Bei) and Chancellor Zhuge Liang. The first oration describes the Prince of Shu personally overseeing the restoration of the Wuhou Shrine.

In his address, the Prince reflected on history: just as King Tang of Shang sought Yi Yin three times at the fields of Xin, Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang's thatched cottage in Nanyang three times, their ruler-minister relationship becoming as harmonious as fish and water. Together they established the foundation of Shu-Han, dividing the realm into three. Witnessing the shrine's dilapidation, the Prince ordered the halls rebuilt and new walls erected, revitalizing the memorial site. For the ceremony, fine wine and sacrificial animals (a ram) were prepared, beseeching the Late Emperor and Marquis Wuhou to bless the people of Shu.

The second oration was delivered by the Nanyang prefect during biannual spring and autumn rituals honoring Zhuge Liang. It praises Zhuge as "Shu's Yi and Lü" (comparing him to Yi Yin of Shang and Lü Shang of Zhou), extolling his pure scholarship and luminous character. Recalling the典故 of the "Three Visits to the Thatched Cottage," it memorializes Zhuge's emergence from Nanyang to assist Liu Bei. During renovations of the cottage shrine, officials prayed for the eternal presence of Marquis Wuhou's spirit during seasonal rites.

Both orations employ Zhuge Liang's posthumous title "Loyal and Martial Marquis" (Zhong Wuhou) and reference the famous "Three Visits"典故. The ceremonies followed ancient protocols—shrine restoration, ritual offerings (wine and ram), and oration recitations—demonstrating Ming official reverence for the Shu-Han sovereign and his chancellor.

This passage contains assessments and anecdotes about Zhuge Liang, whose courtesy name was Kongming and whose posthumous title was Marquis Zhongwu, from several historical figures. They can be explained section by section.

On Zhuge Liang's abilities, the passage says that he was central to the restoration of the Han and that his relationship with Liu Bei was as close as fish and water. His talents far surpassed those of Cao Pi, Cao Cao's son, but unfortunately his northern campaigns did not succeed. Had Zhuge Liang not died early, another campaign might have annexed both Wu and Wei and restored the Han's ritual and musical institutions. Later heroes would then have had no cause to mourn him with tears. Some criticize his military abilities, but this is merely the view of mediocre historians.

Li Hao, King Wuzhao in the Jin period and founder of Western Liang during the Sixteen Kingdoms era, once copied Zhuge Liang's admonitions to educate his sons. Li Hao said that he bore heavy responsibilities but had yet to establish achievements. Although supported by capable ministers, he was so occupied with military affairs that he often worked through the night. He believed that governing required both employing worthy talent and remaining close to the ruling family, so he wanted his sons to take responsibility while still young. He stressed learning from history. Zhuge Liang's admonitions and Ying Qu's remonstrances both embodied the approaches to government of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius. Diligent study of the classics and histories could secure the state and establish a good name; these principles were clear and easy to understand.

In a letter to Shan Tao, Ji Kang, a celebrated figure of the Three Kingdoms period, noted that Zhuge Liang did not force Xu Shu, courtesy name Yuanzhi, to accompany him into Shu, and Hua Xin, courtesy name Ziyu, did not insist that Guan Ning, courtesy name You'an, take office. This was true mutual understanding and respect.

In a memorial discussing Yaozhou, in present-day Yunnan, the Tang chancellor Zhang Jianzhi traced its history. Formerly known as the kingdom of Ailao, it submitted to the central Chinese state only in the Eastern Han. When Shu Han lacked troops, Zhuge Liang crossed the Lu River, the Jinsha River, in the fifth month, collected local products to replenish military supplies, and sent Zhang Boqi to select elite soldiers to strengthen the army. This account supplements the Shu Zhi, the history of Shu.

Proper names and expressions in the passage:

• Bazhen: the famous Eight Formations devised by Zhuge Liang.
• Kuizhou: the area around present-day Fengjie in Chongqing, where Zhuge Liang once arranged his formations.
• Guan and Zhang: Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, who together with Zhuge Liang were called "one dragon and two tigers."
• Crossing the Lu: the story of Zhuge Liang "crossing the Lu in the fifth month" during his campaign to pacify Nanzhong.

This passage consists of three sections containing later scholars' evaluations of Zhuge Liang's (posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) wisdom in governance.

The first section discusses Zhuge Liang's administrative strategy after pacifying the Nanzhong region (modern-day Yunnan). Unlike his predecessors who appointed Han officials and stationed troops, he empowered local chieftains to govern. Appointing Han administrators risked ethnic tensions, while garrisoning troops created heavy logistical burdens for grain transportation. By establishing only basic administrative systems and allowing local autonomy, Zhuge Liang achieved lasting stability. This "loose rein" policy (referring to the soft-handed control of frontier ethnic groups) truly grasped the essence of governing non-Han peoples.

The second section presents Su Shi's (courtesy name Zizhan) perspective on personnel management. He argued that governing a state requires strictness like Zhuge Liang's administration of Shu or Wang Meng's governance of Former Qin, creating an environment where people dare not engage in deceit. However, such an approach inevitably invites resentment and slander from mediocre officials. Just as Liu Bei ignored Guan Yu and Zhang Fei's slander to let Zhuge Liang's talents flourish, or how Former Qin's Fu Jian dismissed powerful aristocrats like Fan Shi to enable Wang Meng's successful reforms.

The third section records Zhu Xi's (sobriquet Yuanhui) reminiscence. He recalled seeing an ancient portrait of Zhuge Liang in Zhang Shi's (courtesy name Jingfu) study in Changsha, allegedly painted by Tang dynasty artist Yan Liben. Zhang Shi composed an impromptu eulogy for the portrait with remarkably concise and vivid language. Twenty-nine years later, when Zhu Xi saw the portrait again, all his old friends had passed away, filling him with profound melancholy. In his preface to the Nanxuan Collection, Zhu Xi further noted that since Mencius, few truly understood the distinction between righteousness and profit—only scholars like Dong Zhongshu, Zhuge Liang, and the Cheng brothers (Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi) had properly expounded this principle.

This passage examines the governing principles and personal virtues of historical figures like Zhuge Liang. The text observes that when pursuing personal interests, people often indulge in selfish desires, while in statecraft they easily fall into utilitarianism. During the Southern Song Dynasty, Duke Zhang Zhongxian (Zhang Jun) and Duke Hu Wending (Hu Anguo) guided the nation differently—the former by upholding righteous principles, the latter through classical exegesis—yet both approaches aligned with Mencius’ philosophy and the teachings of Dong Zhongshu and the Cheng brothers (Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi), demonstrating different paths leading to the same destination.

The author particularly admires Zhuge Liang’s wisdom in governing Shu Han. Compared to other renowned administrators of Sichuan like Li Deyu, Zhuge achieved greater success under far more challenging circumstances—managing the weak Shu state while simultaneously confronting threats from the Southern Barbarians, Western Rong tribes, Eastern Wu, and Northern Wei. After Liu Bei’s death, Zhuge refrained from leaving Chengdu’s city gates for three years, first consolidating domestic governance (metaphorically described as reinforcing a house’s foundation), then pacifying the southern tribes (strengthening the perimeter fences), before finally launching the northern expeditions. This strategy of securing fundamentals before pursuing strength exemplifies extraordinary political wisdom.

The concluding historical comparisons illustrate that evaluating talent must transcend mere success or failure. Zhuge Liang’s service to Shu Han and Di Renjie’s restoration of the Tang Dynasty both stemmed from loyalty; Guo Ziyi (Prince of Fenyang) enjoyed wealth after recapturing Chang’an, while Yue Fei’s vow to avenge national humiliation ended in betrayal by treacherous officials—yet their moral righteousness remained equivalent. Conversely, Cao Cao’s imperial ambitions and Xun Yu’s (Wenruo) ill-fated counsel about the Nine Dignities represent usurpers’ conduct. These contrasts emphasize that true heroes should be measured by upright intentions rather than worldly outcomes.

This passage contrasts historical loyal ministers with treacherous officials, illustrating the divergent outcomes of their choices.

First, consider Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu), whose lifelong loyalty and diligence—devoting himself entirely until death—earned him reverence akin to a divine dragon. In contrast, figures like Cao Cao, cunning and deceitful, lived hypocritically only to reveal their true nature after death, their actions ghostly and sinister.

The text juxtaposes several historical figures: Su Wu, who remained unyielding while held captive by the Xiongnu, embodying the sacrifice of life for righteousness; and Yan Zhenqing (enfeoffed as Duke of Lu Commandery), who chose death over submission to the rebel Li Xilie, upholding moral integrity. On the other hand, Li Ling and Wei Lü surrendered to the Xiongnu, committing grave offenses, while Zhang Bangchang and Liu Yu defected to the Jin dynasty, willingly becoming traitors.

Historical lessons are also highlighted: Huo Guang, though instrumental in enthroning two emperors, saw his descendants executed due to arrogance—proof that high status without restraint invites disaster. Han Qi (a renowned Northern Song minister), however, served two dynasties with esteemed virtue because he understood the Dao of advancing and retreating. Tao Yuanming found peace in reclusive rural life, while Yang Xiong (a Western Han scholar) suffered inner turmoil after aligning with Wang Mang, his life worsening despite his efforts.

Particular emphasis is placed on Zhuge Liang’s Northern Expeditions. Though Jin dynasty historiography recognized Wei as the legitimate regime, Zhuge upheld the principle that "the Han and traitors cannot coexist," much like Tang dynasty records that demoted usurpers to kings—efforts to clarify legitimacy in chaotic times. Over 1,362 years, from Jin ministers becoming feudal lords, historical records served to condemn deceased rebels, rectify titles, assign praise or blame, and encourage virtue while punishing vice.

Ye Shi (a Southern Song scholar) lamented that Jin-era compilations of Zhuge Liang’s deeds were lost. Zhang Fu, comparing Guan Zhong and Yue Yi, argued that Zhuge Liang combined civil and martial virtues—governing with stability and defending with might. His strict yet fair military discipline, refusal to exploit civilians, humility in crediting subordinates, and accountability for failures made his reputation rival sage-ministers like Yi Yin and Lü Shang, far surpassing Guan Zhong and Yue Yi.

The Xu commentary notes that when the Han fell, many surrendered to survive, yet only Zhuge Liang’s son Zhuge Zhan and grandson Zhuge Shang chose death in battle—a legacy of loyalty instilled by Kongming’s teachings. Though they perished, their righteous spirit endures, shaming those who clung to life in disgrace.

The Song dynasty scholar Chen Yu recorded an anecdote: When Zhuge Liang (styled Kongming, posthumously titled Marquis Zhongwu) recommended Ma Chao to Liu Bei, Guan Yu grew concerned about being overshadowed and wrote to inquire. Zhuge Liang replied: "Ma Chao may rival Zhang Fei (styled Yide) in prowess, but he cannot compare to the General with the Beautiful Beard (referring to Guan Yu)." This response greatly pleased Guan Yu. I believe Zhuge Liang's words simultaneously affirmed Ma Chao's capability while reassuring Guan Yu—such profound wisdom demonstrates truly unfathomable foresight.

When the Shu army suffered repeated defeats, Zhuge Liang issued an edict stating: "Our failures stem not from incompetent generals or insufficient troops, but from my own inability to recognize mistakes. If you can point out my errors, our army shall surely prevail." Ordinary men resent having their faults exposed, yet Zhuge Liang actively sought criticism—this exemplifies true magnanimity.

Zhang Wencheng remarked: "Assisting a young ruler proved manageable for the Duke of Zhou (founding minister of Western Zhou), yet Zhuge Liang faced greater challenges." Liu Zongyuan's "Discourse on Six Contraries" notes: "Liu Bei's three visits to Zhuge Liang's thatched cottage rivaled the legendary meetings between ancient sage-kings and their ministers."

The Ming scholar Fang Xiaoru wrote in "Wang Ludao's Hall of Filial Remembrance": "Though Sichuan luminaries like Sima Xiangru and Yang Xiong brought glory to their clans, their virtue remained incomplete. While Li Mi (styled Lingbo) achieved filial fame, his character still showed flaws. Only Zhuge Liang and Zhang Shi (styled Jingfu) stand as truly flawless exemplars of humanity and filial piety—both sages whose reputations endure eternally. My friend Wang Ludao, erudite in ancient wisdom and gentle in conduct, maintained filial devotion even after becoming a renowned statesman. That posterity celebrates his virtue through this 'Hall of Filial Remembrance' confirms my assessment."

Yuan Huang (styled Liaofan) compared: "Fu Jian of Former Qin acquiring Wang Meng is often likened to Liu Bei obtaining Zhuge Liang. Yet consider—Zhuge Liang remained in Nanyang refusing service to Wu or Wei, let alone foreign rulers. Though Liu Bei descended from Han royalty, only three solicitations moved him. Wang Meng, however, accepted office after mere recommendation by Lü Polou. Zhuge Liang sought Han restoration, while Wang Meng merely discussed current affairs to please his lord. Fu Jian harbored usurping ambitions—Wang Meng not only participated in deposing the tyrant Fu Sheng but actively facilitated the coup. Their moral stature differs profoundly."

This passage presents comparative evaluations of several historical figures and events. It begins by criticizing those who equate Wang Meng with Zhuge Liang, likening such comparisons to matching an earthworm with a divine dragon. While acknowledging Wang Meng's strategic brilliance, the text condemns his ruthless methods in handling figures like Fu Fa and Fan Shi, which pale in comparison to Zhuge Liang's transparent governance.

Wu Yangxin remarked that Zhuge Liang stood as a rare talent unmatched since the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang, Zhou), making Wang Meng utterly incomparable. However, the text notes that the trust between Former Qin ruler Fu Jian and Wang Meng did parallel the bond between Liu Bei and Zhuge Liang. It recounts how Fu Jian met Wang Meng through Lü Polou's introduction, with their instant rapport prompting Fu Jian to liken their meeting to Liu Bei encountering Zhuge Liang.

The discussion then shifts to proposals for venerating historical figures. Xiong He memorialized the throne advocating sacrifices to exemplary ministers across dynasties: Zhuge Liang (Nanyang), Guan Ning (Liaodong), Zhang Jiuling (Qujiang), and Yang Cheng (Jinyang), along with cultural pioneers like Wen Weng (Shu region) and Chang Gun (Fujian) who established local education systems.

The final section documents the establishment of a Confucian school in Dingyuan County, Yunnan. This region belonged to Yuexi Commandery during the Han dynasty and hosted Zhuge Liang's southern campaigns (evidenced by surviving sites like Wangzi Cave). After Tang-era administrative changes and Song-era local occupation, Yuan dynasty renamed it Dingyuan Prefecture. In 1547, during Emperor Jiajing's reign, judicial commissioner Hu Yaoshi petitioned for constructing the school, completed the following year with Yang Shen (styled Sheng'an) composing its commemorative record. The text particularly highlights the area's historical connection to Zhuge Liang's southern expeditions.

This passage traces the cultural development of Yuexi region (modern-day Liangshan, Sichuan) from the Han to Ming dynasties. Although Zhuge Liang (the Martial Marquis) pacified the area through military campaigns during his southern expedition, Confucian education had yet to take root. During the Tang, the region briefly submitted to central authority before rebelling again, and after Song dynasty border demarcations, it became increasingly marginalized. Not until the early Hongwu reign of the Ming dynasty, when the court implemented Confucian moral principles and ritual music to civilize frontier regions, did this remote land truly integrate with Central Plains civilization.

The author particularly highlights Zhuge Liang's teachings of "cultivating indifference to clarify one's aspirations, maintaining serenity to attain far-reaching goals," suggesting local scholars should inherit this spirit. Establishing schools must be grounded in local traditions, and Zhuge Liang—as the region's most renowned historical figure—naturally becomes the model for emulation. As long as students devote themselves to study under the inspiration of this ancient sage's spirit, revering virtuous exemplars and delving into classical texts, they will naturally develop both moral character and scholarly accomplishment.

The concluding section references the Records of the Three Kingdoms' sparse documentation of Shu-Han history, which some attribute to Zhuge Liang's failure to appoint official historians. Yet the Biography of the Later Lord mentions officials recording auspicious signs, suggesting there might have been officers specializing in omens rather than comprehensive history. Even without dedicated historians, Shu scholars like Qin Mi and Qiao Zhou possessed sufficient capability to record historical events. This subtly defends Zhuge Liang's governance strategy, implying the lack of Shu historical materials shouldn't be considered his failing.

This passage primarily discusses the historical evaluation and deeds of Zhuge Liang (courtesy name Kongming, posthumous title Marquis Zhongwu), the Chancellor of Shu Han during the Three Kingdoms period.

First, it notes the contradictory evaluation by Chen Shou (author of Records of the Three Kingdoms). Zhuge Liang possessed the talent to assist kings, employing military strategies with divine skill—even Sima Yi (Sima Xuanwang) feared him. His inventions like the Eight Formation Diagram and the wooden ox and gliding horse remain mysteries no one has deciphered to this day. Yet Chen Shou, a native of Shu, claimed Zhuge Liang was not particularly skilled in military strategy, likely because Chen later became an official of the Jin dynasty and had to downplay Zhuge Liang, who had opposed the Sima clan.

The text includes Chao Shi's record of Zhuge Liang's Sixteen Matters of Expediency, covering sixteen aspects of governance, ruler-minister relations, and military affairs. However, Chen Shou's Records of the Three Kingdoms omitted these, leading some to suspect later forgery. There is also a reprinted preface by Li Xiangji of Daliang.

The Eastern Han historical commentary summarizes: After Liu Shan ascended the throne, Zhuge Liang, with both civil and military talents, served as both general and chancellor. He pacified the southern barbarians by capturing Meng Huo seven times and launched six northern expeditions from Qishan. His achievements rank first among the Three Kingdoms, and his Eight Formation Diagram's fearsome reputation made even Sima Yi tremble. Yet just as he was exhausting his utmost efforts, his star fell at Wuzhang Plain. As the ancients said, "When Heaven's favor no longer rested with the Han, even Zhuge Liang could not reverse it"—truly so.

Yang Wanli (Chengzhai) wrote in his collected works: When popular sentiment favored the Han, even a pretender like Wang Lang could succeed by invoking the Han name; when Heaven's favor departed, even Zhuge Liang couldn't sustain it.

Regarding memorials to the throne, content should outweigh literary embellishment. Though Cao Zhi's memorials were beautifully written, it was Zhuge Liang's Memorial on Sending Out the Troops, Pei Du's memorials, and Yang Hu's memorials declining honors that represented truly virtuous writing (as commented by Li Kehanlin).

Su Xun (Laoquan) and his son disagreed with Zhuge Liang's strategy, considering his abandonment of Jingzhou to retreat to Ba-Shu a miscalculation. But this criticism overlooks that Zhuge Liang had already proposed to Liu Bei during the Longzhong Dialogue the strategic plan that "Jingzhou is a militarily vital territory."

This passage discusses the deeds and evaluations of several historical figures. Regarding Liu Bei's abandonment of strategically advantageous territory being wrongly attributed as Zhuge Liang's (styled Kongming) mistake, the author considers such criticism unjust.

The text mentions that ancient sages like the Duke of Zhou and Zhuge Liang never sought wealth or fame. When Zhuge Liang passed away, his family possessed only eight hundred mulberry trees and a few dozen acres of land, demonstrating his incorruptible character—a testament to his selfless devotion to the world and impartial spirit.

Yang Huan, a Yuan dynasty scholar, while reading the Comprehensive Mirror for Aid in Government (Zizhi Tongjian), took issue with its discussion of the legitimacy of Han and Wei regimes. He consequently wrote Han Records (Han Shu) to correct these viewpoints and composed poems questioning Sima Guang's historiography. Only after encountering Zhu Xi's Outline and Details of the Comprehensive Mirror (Tongjian Gangmu) did this controversy subside.

Chen Renxi points out that although Zhuge Liang advocated "drawing close to worthy ministers and keeping petty men at a distance" in his Longzhong Plan, the officials he later promoted—Ma Su, Wei Yan, and Yang Yi—all proved problematic. Nevertheless, his military discipline and legislative fairness remain talents later generations could scarcely match.

Zhang Yi cites the Xuanhe Painting Manual (Xuanhe Huapu), noting Zhuge Liang's skill in painting and crediting him with designing the famous Eight Formation Diagram battle array. Such military strategic brilliance far surpassed what mere armchair scholars could conceive.