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卷四十九 列傳第十九 阮籍 嵇康 向秀 劉伶 謝鯤 胡毋輔之 畢卓 王尼 羊曼 光逸

Volume 49 Biographies 19: Ruan Ji; Ji Kang; Xiang Xiu; Liu Ling; Xie Kun; Huwu Fuzhi; Bi Zhuo; Wang Ni; Yang Man; Guang Yi

Chapter 49 of 晉書 · Book of Jin
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Chapter 49
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1
Ruan Ji, courtesy name Sizong, came from Weishi in Chenliu. His father, Ruan Yu, served as a clerk to the Wei Chancellor and was widely known. He had a striking presence and a bold, expansive spirit—proud, self-possessed, and untrammeled—while his face betrayed neither joy nor anger. Sometimes he would shut himself in and read for months without stepping outside. Sometimes he climbed hills and roamed streams until whole days passed and he forgot to go home. He read voraciously, with a particular love for the Zhuangzi and the Laozi. He loved wine, could whistle, and played the zither with real skill. In moments of elation he would quite forget his own body. Most contemporaries dismissed him as eccentric, but his kinsman Ruan Wenye often marveled and admitted Ruan Ji surpassed him—after which everyone spoke of him as remarkable.
2
西
When he once traveled with an uncle to Dong commandery, Yanzhou Inspector Wang Chang requested an audience and sat with him all day, but Ruan Ji never spoke; Wang Chang concluded he could not be fathomed. Grand Commandant Jiang Ji, hearing of his talent, summoned him. Ruan Ji presented a memorial at the relay lodge: "You hold the summit of power with all-embracing virtue; heroes and talents strain to join you. When you first opened your office, every man hoped to be named to your staff; when the appointment list appeared, my lowly name headed it. Long ago Zixia taught west of the River, and Marquis Wen of Wei swept the path before him; Zou Yan lived north of Millet Valley, and King Zhao of Yan took the place beside him in the carriage. Poor scholars who stand apart are honored by lords because the Way still dwells in them. I have none of the learning of Zou Yan or Bu Zixia, only their obscurity; I was chosen by mistake and cannot live up to the role. I mean to farm the sunny fields east of the marsh and pay my grain tax from the surplus. I am worn thin hauling fuel and my legs are weak; I cannot sustain the duties of a clerk. Please withdraw this undeserved kindness and keep your recommendation unsullied." At first Jiang Ji had worried Ruan Ji might refuse; the memorial delighted him. He sent men to escort him in, only to find Ruan Ji had already left; Jiang Ji was furious. Villagers and kin together reasoned with him, and he finally accepted the appointment. Soon afterward he pleaded illness and went home. He was appointed Gentleman of the Masters of Writing but, within a short while, again left office citing illness. When Cao Shuang directed the government, he summoned Ruan Ji as an adjutant. Ruan Ji pleaded illness and withdrew to the countryside. A little over a year later Cao Shuang was executed; contemporaries admired his foresight. When Emperor Xuan held the Grand Tutorship, he named Ruan Ji a miscellaneous aide. After that ruler's death he again served Emperor Jing as aide to the Grand Marshal. When the Duke of Gaoling ascended the throne, Ruan Ji was enfeoffed as a marquis within the passes and promoted to Regular Cavalier Attendant.
3
使
He had once hoped to aid the world, but as Wei gave way to Jin and turmoil mounted, few eminent men escaped with their lives, so he turned away from affairs and sought refuge in perpetual drinking. When Sima Zhao first tried to arrange a marriage between his son Sima Yan and Ruan Ji's family, Ruan Ji drank himself insensible for sixty days until the matchmakers could get nowhere and the plan died. Zhong Hui repeatedly pressed him on state affairs, hoping to trap him in a damaging answer; each time Ruan Ji drank his way out of danger. Once Sima Zhao was regent, Ruan Ji remarked casually, "I have visited Dongping and love its people and landscape. Delighted, the regent immediately named him governor of Dongping. He arrived on a donkey, stripped the office of its screens so clerks and public faced one another, simplified the statutes, and resigned within ten days. He was then recalled as aide to the General-in-Chief. When officials reported a case of a son who had killed his mother, Ruan Ji exclaimed, "Well! Killing one's father might be imaginable—but killing one's mother?" The assembly thought he had spoken monstrously. The regent asked, "Matricide aside, do you call patricide acceptable?" Ruan Ji replied, "Beasts know their dams, not their sires; to slay a father is still the act of a beast. To slay a mother sinks below even beasts." The listeners were satisfied.
4
使 使 使便使
Learning that the infantry commissary kept excellent wine—three hundred hu in store—he requested appointment as colonel of the infantry garrison. He let worldly duties slide; though no longer adjutant, he still haunted headquarters and never missed the regent's banquets. When Sima Zhao declined the Nine Bestowals, high ministers prepared a joint memorial of urging and charged Ruan Ji with the draft. He was too drunk to write; when the courier arrived at the office, Ruan Ji was slumped over his desk in a stupor. Told the deadline had come, he scribbled the text on the document case and had the envoy copy it off unchanged. The prose was lucid and powerful and won wide admiration.
5
便 退
He flouted conventional ritual, yet his words ran deep and remote, and he refused to pass judgment on people in ordinary talk. He was profoundly filial, yet when news came that his mother had died he insisted on finishing a weiqi game though his opponent begged to stop. Only then did he drain two dou of wine, utter a single wrenching cry, and bring up several sheng of blood. At the funeral he ate a steamed pig's trotter, drank two dou more, bade the coffin farewell saying he was utterly spent, cried out again, and vomited more blood; he wasted to skin and bone, nearly following his mother in death. When Pei Kai came to mourn, Ruan Ji sat hair unbound, legs sprawled, drunk and staring blankly; Pei Kai completed the rites and withdrew. Someone asked Pei Kai, "At a wake the host leads the weeping before the guest pays respect. Ruan Ji never wept—why did you?" Pei Kai answered, "Ruan Ji stands outside the world of convention, so ritual does not bind him. I remain inside it, so I observe the forms myself." Onlookers said both men had acted fittingly. He could greet people with a "white eye" or a "blue eye": pedants of the ritualists' stamp received only the white. When Ji Xi came to offer condolences, Ruan Ji showed him the white eye; Ji Xi left in annoyance. Ji Xi's brother Ji Kang arrived bearing wine and a zither; Ruan Ji brightened and turned on him the blue eye of welcome. Ritual moralists loathed him, yet the regent shielded him.
6
便 使
When his sister-in-law returned to her natal family, Ruan Ji saw her off in person. Critics scoffed; he retorted, "Were the rites written for the likes of me?" A neighbor's pretty young wife kept the wine shop. Ruan Ji would drink there until drunk and sleep beside her counter. He saw nothing improper in it, and her husband, watching closely, never distrusted him. A soldier's talented, beautiful daughter died unwed. Ruan Ji, a stranger to her family, walked straight in to weep out his grief and left. Open and easy outwardly, inwardly he was utterly sincere—such was his way in everything. He would drive alone wherever whim took him; when the road ended he would burst into tears and turn back. Climbing Guangwu Pass to the old Chu–Han battlefield, he sighed, "No true heroes in that hour—so mediocrities won the renown!" From Mount Wulao he looked toward Luoyang and sighed, then composed his "Poem on Heroes." He died in the winter of Wei Jingyuan 4 (263 CE) at the age of fifty-four.
7
He could write at speed without brooding beforehand. His eighty-odd "Poems Singing My Cares" became classics of the age. His essay "Mastering the Zhuangzi" praised the worth of non-action. Further compositions are omitted here.
8
退
On Mount Sumen he met the recluse Sun Deng and debated high antiquity and breath cultivation; Sun Deng never answered, so Ruan Ji gave a long whistle and walked away. Halfway down the ridge he heard phoenix-like notes echoing through the peaks—it was Sun Deng answering with a whistle of his own. He then wrote "The Great Gentleman," arguing in essence: "The respectable men of the world polish law, hug ritual, jade tablets in hand, inked guideline underfoot, their deeds a curb on the moment, their words a pattern for all time, praised in the village as youths, famous abroad as adults, reaching for the Three Excellencies yet never scorning a provincial post. They never notice the lice in a pair of pants—cowering in seams and moldy wadding, mistaking filth for a lucky home, never daring beyond a crease or outside the fly, convinced they are walking straight lines. Yet when wildfire scorches city and plain, those lice stay trapped in the cloth and burn. What separates a pedant boxed inside the world from a louse boxed inside trousers?" That parable captured Ruan Ji's own temper.
9
His son Ruan Hun, courtesy name Changcheng, resembled him in spirit. In youth Hun admired breadth of mind and scorned petty scruples. Ruan Ji warned him, "Your cousin Zhongrong already walks this path with me—you must not follow suit!" Under Emperor Wu's Taikang era he became a retainer of the crown prince.
10
竿
Ruan Xian's courtesy name was Zhongrong. His father Ruan Xi governed Wudu as prefect. Ruan Xian was as free-spirited as his uncle Ruan Ji; together they roamed the Bamboo Grove, drawing scorn from the ritual-minded. He lived south of the lane with Ruan Ji while the rest of the clan lived on the north side—there the rich branch flaunted its wealth and here the poor branch scraped by. On the Double Seventh the northerners spread out silks brilliant as jewels; Ruan Xian hoisted a pair of rough cloth shorts on a pole in the yard. When people gawked, he said, "I cannot rise above vulgar ways—so I join them, that is all!"
11
He rose through appointments as Gentleman of the Palace Gate. Shan Tao urged his appointment as personnel evaluator: "Ruan Xian is upright, spare in appetite, and reads men with a clear eye—nothing sways him. Put him in charge of appointments and he would tower above his generation." Emperor Wu dismissed the idea, judging him a drunkard and a lightweight. Guo Yi of Taiyuan—open, shrewd, and seldom impressed—met Ruan Xian and was utterly won over, sighing before he knew it. Yet during mourning for his mother he indulged his impulses and flouted ritual. He had long desired his aunt's maidservant; the aunt first promised to leave her behind, then took her away when she returned to her husband's house. Guests were still in the house when he heard; he borrowed a mount, galloped after the cart, caught the girl, and rode back astride behind her—moralists were scandalized.
12
便
He had a genius for pitch and rhythm and played the pipa to perfection. He shunned public life except with family, where he passed nights in song, zither, and wine. He was closest to his nephew Ruan Xiu; the two delighted in each other's company. Whenever the clan feasted, they set aside cups and ladled wine from a great basin, sitting in a ring and passing it in deep drafts. Pigs wandered up to the wine basin; Ruan Xian sat down among them without shooing them away and shared the drink. Every younger cousin aped his abandon, but Ruan Ji refused to bless their excess. Xun Xu, outclassed whenever they discussed music, nursed a grudge and had him posted away as governor of Shiping. He ended his days in old age. His sons were Zhan and Fu.
13
退
Ruan Zhan, courtesy name Qianli, was a man of lucid calm and few wants, content within himself. He read without pedantic drilling yet quietly seized essentials; in debate his language was spare but his meaning ran deep. He played the zither beautifully, and whoever came—high or low, old or young—he would play for. His manner was gentle and diffuse; you could never tell where his mind had drifted. Pan Yue, his brother-in-law, kept him playing from dusk till dawn, yet he never showed irritation. Observers marveled at his equipoise: neither honor nor shame could touch him. In deportment he was luminous and composed. Visiting Minister of Education Wang Rong, he was asked whether the sages' esteem for moral norms and Laozi-Zhuang's teaching of spontaneity meant the same thing or not. Ruan Zhan answered, "I should think they are not unlike each other." Wang Rong mused at length, then ordered him offered a post on the spot. Wits dubbed him the "three-line secretary." Grand Commandant Wang Yan likewise esteemed him. On a sweltering journey the party rushed a roadside well; Ruan Zhan hung back until every thirst was slaked—so unhurried and ungrasping was he.
14
When Sima Yue, Prince of the East Sea, held Xuchang, he named Ruan Zhan secretary-adjutant alongside Wang Cheng, Xie Kun, and Deng You. Sima Yue wrote: "Ritual says a boy of eight leaves home for outer schooling, ready for a teacher's discipline; at ten he enters 'child study' and may absorb the lessons of the ancient kings. Yet book learning stays shallow; what shapes the person runs deeper. So rehearsing ritual gestures counts for less than watching true bearing in action; reciting old texts counts for less than hearing a living voice explain them. My boy Pi lacks natural grace and has felt little of the Way; when you are free, move with him and teach him in conversation."
15
便
During Yongjia he became attendant for the heir apparent. He was famous for arguing there are no ghosts; none could overturn him, and he boasted the point settled spirit against flesh. A stranger announced himself, exchanged courtesies, and drifted into metaphysical talk. He was brilliant in debate; they wrangled for hours until the talk turned to ghosts, growing fierce. At last the visitor flushed and said, "Sages old and new all attest spirits—how dare you deny them! I myself am a ghost." He shifted into a monstrous shape and vanished in an instant. Ruan Zhan sat speechless, his face gone gray. A year later he died of illness at Cangyuan, only thirty years old.
16
殿
Ruan Fu, courtesy name Yaoji, was born to a Hu bondwoman. His aunt, quoting Wang Yanshou's rhapsody on the Hall of Spiritual Light in Lu—where barbarians "gather from afar beneath the ridgepole"—chose his name from those words. He began in the Grand Tutor's bureau and moved up to aide in the cavalry service. Crossing the Yangzi ahead of the collapse, he became adjutant to the eastern pacification command under Emperor Yuan. He drank with hair uncombed and refused to let paperwork weigh on him. The court was applying Legalist rigor to save the realm, yet men of Ruan Fu's stamp could not simply vanish. Still, he kept them away from real responsibility. Ruan Fu was shifted to aide in the chancellery. He caroused endlessly and was repeatedly censored, but the emperor indulged him.
17
Wang Ai of Langye, chariot-and-cavalry general at Guangling, was picking elite staff and chose Ruan Fu as chief clerk. The sovereign told him, "You head an army headquarters on a busy frontier—you should drink less." Ruan Fu replied, "You burden a dullard like me with military weight. I would have kept silent save for this: your prince's presence makes terror spread and imperial grace reach far—foes shrink, the air clears, sun and moon seem brighter—why should I still fuss like a torch flame that will not die? Better I fold my hands, whistle, and enjoy my years in peace." He advanced to Gentleman at the Yellow Gate and Regular Cavalier Attendant. He once traded a gold sable tail for wine, drew another impeachment, and was pardoned. Later he was retainer to the crown prince, leader of the left guards, and colonel of garrison cavalry.
18
便 便
Emperor Ming raised him to palace attendant. He followed the campaign against Wang Dun and was enfeoffed marquis of Nan'an. He was named minister of personnel and tutor to the Prince of the East Sea but pleaded illness and stayed home. An edict ordered him employed from his house; Chi Jian, minister of the left, called that improper. The emperor answered, "It is awkward, yes—but otherwise his talent goes unused." When the emperor sank toward death, Wen Jiao came to take the deathbed charge and invited Ruan Fu into the carriage. Wen said, "The throne is failing; the southland is weak—we need worthy men to steady the realm. You command respect; I want you beside me to accept the regency." Ruan Fu said nothing, demanded to be let off, and Wen Jiao refused. Near the palace gate he pleaded a call of nature, slipped down, and walked home.
19
People once compared Zu Yue's greed for money with Ruan Fu's passion for wooden clogs—two manias, hard to rank. A caller on Zu Yue found him counting coin; startled mid-task, he hid two small chests behind his back, hunched and uneasy. A caller on Ruan Fu found him waxing clogs and sighing, "Who knows how many pairs I'll wear in one lifetime?" His face stayed serene and bright. Then everyone knew which obsession was nobler.
20
At the opening of Xianhe he became governor of Danyang. The empress dowager ruled from behind the screen while her uncles pulled the strings. Ruan Fu told friends, "This southern court may boast many reigns, but its calendar is still short. The boy emperor faces a hard age; the 'hundred-and-six' ill cycle nears; Yu Liang is young, untested, untrusted—I see the makings of chaos." When Guangzhou inspector Liu Kai died, he begged desperately for an outside post. Wang Dao judged him unfit for the capital magistracy but named him military commander over Jiao, Guang, and Ning, general who guards the south, colonel against the Yue, inspector of Guangzhou—with plenipotentiary baton. He died en route, forty-nine years old. When Su Jun rose soon after, wise men said he had read the signs. Childless, he passed his line to a grandnephew, Ruan Guang.
21
Ruan Xiu, courtesy name Xuanzi. He loved the Zhouyi and Laozi and excelled at qingtan. In a debate on ghosts everyone assumed the dead lingered; Ruan Xiu alone denied it: "Witnesses say ghosts wear their living clothes—if the dead have ghosts, do garments have ghosts too?" The others conceded the point. Later he chopped down a village earth-god's tree; when warned, he said, "If the god is the tree, felling it moves the shrine; if the tree is the god, then cutting it ends the god."
22
便 便
He was blunt and easygoing and kept no social façade. He detested philistines and would bolt the moment he met one. When a thought seized him he would hike his skirts and go, heedless of hour; sometimes he and a companion sat in wordless, happy understanding. He walked with coins strung on his staff, slipped into taverns, and drank alone to blissful excess. He scorned the rich and powerful of the day, yet though his larder held not a peck of grain he lived as serenely as if at banquet. He and his brothers shared one mind and took quiet joy in hills and streams.
23
Wang Yan headed the pure-talk circles, thought he had plumbed the Zhouyi yet still sensed a blind spot he could not crack, and muttered, "Will I live to meet anyone who truly masters it?" Wang Dun told Wang Yan, "You can actually talk ideas with Ruan Xiu." Wang Yan answered, "I have heard the same—but where lies his real obsession?" Their conversation proved Xiu spare of phrase but lucid in meaning, and Wang Yan cried out in admiration.
24
Zhang Wei of Liang was odd in aspiration and posed as a butcher-angler recluse; Ruan Xiu admired his gifts yet sensed the pose was hollow. Zhang Wei later rose to Gentleman of the Yellow Gate and interior secretary of Chenliu and, as Xiu foresaw, was ruined by politics.
25
Ruan Xiu stayed poor and unmarried past forty, so Wang Dun and other luminaries pooled a bride-price; hangers-on who craved the cachet were refused a share.
26
He wrote little; among his pieces is a "Rhapsody on the Great Peng" that opens: "Darkly vast, the great peng, conceived in the Northern Dark. It draws life from the subtle essences of scale and fin, born of spirit-transformation. Its wings veil the sky like clouds; its bulk looms like a mountain. When seas shift and surge strikes, it rides the whirlwind upward. In one soaring burst it climbs tier on tier, shouldering the empyrean. Its purpose spans heaven and earth; it scorns the halls of Tang. Warbler and dove titter upward; the inch-long quail sneers. It quits the vulgar world and soars away—none can fathom its heart."
27
祿 西
Wang Dun, then chamberlain for ceremonials, said, "You are always hungry—the assistant chamberlain has a stipend; will you take it?" Ruan Xiu said, "I suppose I could manage that." So he accepted the post. He moved on to acting adjutant to the Grand Tutor and groom-launderer to the crown prince. Fleeing war southward he reached Qisi in Xiyang, where bandits cut him down at the age of forty-two.
28
Ruan Fang, courtesy name Sidu, his grandfather Ruan Lue governed Qi commandery, his father Ruan Kai was interior secretary of Huainan. In youth he matched Ruan Fu in reputation. After the Eastern Jin restoration he became academy erudite, household attendant to the heir apparent, and palace retainer. Though armies marched again and again, he tutored the heir only in Laozi and Zhuangzi, never touching strategy or policy. Emperor Ming treated him as an intimate friend. Promoted to Gentleman of the Yellow Gate and then personnel director, he won praise for even-handed appointments.
29
When Emperor Cheng was a child and the Yu clan ran the court, Ruan Fang begged for distant Jiaozhou and received the posts of military overseer, General Who Displays Might, and inspector. Near Ningpu he met Tao Kan's officer Gao Bao returning from crushing Liang Shuo; Ruan Fang feasted him, then had him ambushed and killed. Gao Bao's men counterattacked; Ruan Fang fled and holed up in Jianyang until the storm passed. Soon after taking up his post he was seized by raging thirst, saw Gao Bao's ghost, and died; the court mourned him deeply—he was forty-four. He was posthumously honored as minister of justice.
30
Famous yet frugal, he built no fortune; even as personnel chief he shivered and hungered. Wang Dao and Yu Liang kept him clothed and fed out of respect for his name. His son Ruan Xizhi became governor of Nandun.
31
簿
Ruan Yu, courtesy name Sikuang, lacked Ruan Fang's dash but surpassed him in moral repute. At his capping he entered service as clerk to the grand steward. Wang Dun, grand general, made him chief clerk and doted on him. Sensing Wang Dun's treasonous ambition, Ruan Yu drank all day and feigned incompetence. Wang Dun wrote him off as a hollow reputation and packed him off to Liyang county, then dismissed him on a bureaucratic pretext. Thus he slipped Wang Dun's purge, and wise men praised the stratagem.
32
便
At Xianhe's opening he was named Gentleman of the Masters of Writing. With the realm still broken after rebellion, he resigned and retired to Shan in Kuaiji. Wang Dao summoned him as staff adviser; he refused flatly. When fresh summons loomed, he begged instead for chief clerk under Wang Shu's pacification command—anything to stay clear of the capital. After Wang Shu died he was offered the personnel ministry and again declined. The court invested him governor of Linhai from his home; he quit within months. Chi Jian wanted him as chief clerk; an edict named him palace librarian—each time he pleaded illness. He briefly served as governor of Dongyang. Palace attendant was next offered; he never appeared. He withdrew to Mount Shan, intent on high reclusion. Asked for a verdict, Wang Xizhi said, "He is proof against glory and shame—who among the ancient recluses surpasses him?" Gossip compared him to Wang Xizhi, Liu Tan, Wang Shu, and Yin Hao—falling short in each trait yet somehow blending their virtues. At Emperor Cheng's funeral he rode to the mausoleum and bolted the moment rites ended. The salon raced after him; foreseeing their chase, he galloped off and vanished past Mount Fangshan. Liu Tan sighed, "Next time I sail east I shall anchor by Xie An's shoal—I would not moor beside Ruan Yu again."
33
使
He was no polymath, yet in debate he was razor-keen. He once asked Xie Wan to summarize the lost "Treatise on the Four Roots." After Xie Wan's précis he sided with Fu Gu's thesis and improvised hundreds of words so subtle the audience savored every line. He argued one need not read widely if ritual yielding came first; sitting silent without display, he still became the cynosure of the age. In Shan county he owned a fine carriage and lent it freely. A neighbor needed it for his mother's funeral yet dared not ask. Learning this, Ruan Yu cried, "What good is a carriage that frightens borrowers?" He ordered it burned on the spot.
34
祿
Long settled east of Shan, he was recalled as Regular Cavalier Attendant and libationer of the national university. Soon he was offered golden-purple grand master and tutor to the Prince of Langye. Year on year the court pressed him; he never took office. Censor Zhou Min charged him and Xie An with years of ignoring summons; the throne forgave them. Someone asked why he shunned high appointments yet twice ran a commandery. He answered, "I refuse imperial call not from lofty pride. I never craved office and am awkward among men; unable to farm for a living, I bent twice to local posts. That was survival, not swagger." He died at sixty-two. His sons were Yong, Ning, and Pu.
35
Yong died young. Ning governed Poyang. Pu served as adviser to the general of agile cavalry. Yong's son Ruan Xinzhi rose to chief of the central guard. Ning's son Ruan Tian became palace librarian. Tian's brother Wanling and Xinzhi's son Mizhi both reached high rank under the final Jin emperors.
36
姿
Ji Kang, courtesy name Shuye, came from Zhi in Qiao. His clan originally surnamed Xi in Shangyu, Kuaiji, and moved here to escape a blood feud. A Ji ridge stood near Zhi; they settled beside it and adopted Ji as their name. His elder brother Ji Xi was a man of affairs, rising to grand coachman and chamberlain for the imperial clan. Orphaned young, he showed genius that towered over others. He stood seven chi eight cun, spoke with grace, yet treated his body like unworked clay—no self-adornment—so men saw dragon markings and phoenix mien, utterly natural. Calm, wanting little, he swallowed slights and bore insults with large-minded ease. Untutored yet omnivorous in reading, he cherished Laozi and Zhuangzi above all. Marriage to Wei imperial women won him the title grand master of the palace. He practiced longevity arts, swallowed drugs, played the zither, and chanted poetry—content in his own mind. Immortals, he argued, are born, not made; yet proper breath-cultivation could match Anqi or Pengzu—hence his treatise "On Nurturing Life." He also taught that the gentleman is selfless: "The gentleman's mind does not clutch at right and wrong, yet his acts never leave the Way. Why is this so? When breath is quiet and spirit open, the mind holds no vanity or rivalry; When body and mind are clear, passion no longer clings to craving. With vanity gone from the heart, you step past moral labels and yield to nature. Unhooked from appetite, you weigh high and low and read the temper of things. Once things' truth flows freely, nothing violates the great Way. Drop reputation and follow the heart, and quarrels over right and wrong fall away. So the gentleman keeps no fixed doctrine—only luminous accord with reality. The petty man hides his heart and breaks the Way—that is his failing. Why? Hoarding feeling and clutching gain is villainy at its worst. An open mind with no ulterior motive is the gentleman's steadfast path. Hence the classic line: lose the self and trouble ends. Whoever disdains life for life's own sake ranks above mere survivalists. Thus the sage's mind never camps on fixed answers. As the adage runs, the gentleman follows the Way until he forgets his own skin—and it is true. His goodness flows without first checking a yardstick. He follows an upright heart without staging virtue for display. With motives clear and no scheming, he never debates correctness before acting. Forget you are virtuous, and virtue aligns with order. Surrender to the heart, and goodness aligns unbidden. Drift without fixed plans, and right action appears on its own." Such was the thrust of his argument. In spirit he pined for rare understanding, forever seeking a listener like the Ying whetstone. His soul-friends were Ruan Ji and Shan Tao; Xiang Xiu, Liu Ling, Ruan Xian, and Wang Rong rode the same current—the circle later called the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove. Wang Rong said twenty years beside Ji Kang in Shanyang never showed joy or anger on his face.
37
Gathering herbs among hills and streams, he would vanish for days when rapture seized him. Woodsmen who stumbled upon him mistook him for an immortal. In the Ji mountains he met recluse Sun Deng and followed him as a disciple. Sun Deng stayed mute, offering not a word. As Ji Kang turned to go, Sun Deng warned, 'Your temper is fire and your talent blazes—how will you dodge disaster?' With Wang Lie he found stone marrow sweet as syrup; each tasted half, yet both halves hardened into stone. Another time Wang spied a white silk scroll in a grotto and beckoned Ji Kang—by the time he arrived, the book had vanished. Wang Lamented, 'Ji Kang's aspirations outsoar the world, yet fortune never smiles—fate alone decides.' Again and again his spirit met recluses and portents like these.
38
When Shan Tao resigned the personnel post, he proposed Ji Kang as successor. Ji Kang answered with a celebrated letter severing ties:
39
'Though the appointment never happened, you still fail to understand me.' 'Lest you draft the sacrificial priest to do the butcher's work, I spell out why this cannot be.'
40
輿
'Laozi and Zhuangzi—my masters—willingly kept humble offices.' 'Liuxia Hui and Dongfang Shuo were realized men content in low rank.' 'Would I belittle such men?' 'Confucius loved humankind and thought nothing demeaning about holding a driver's whip;' 'Ziwen never craved high office yet thrice served as chief intendant—such is the gentleman's urge to help the world.' 'Able in success to lift everyone without swerving; in failure to rest content in private peace.' 'Seen this way, Yao and Shun on the throne, Xu You on a cliff, Zhang Liang serving Han, and mad Jieyu singing past the ruler all obey one inner measure.' 'Each honored his chosen path.' 'So the wise pursue a hundred roads that end one way—each follows his nature to where he rests easy.' 'Hence the old paradox: stay at court yet never "come forth," retreat to the hills yet never "turn back."' 'Yanjiling prized Gaozi Zang's austerity; Sima Xiangru emulated Lin Xiangru's spine—what the heart affirms first, no power can rip away.'
41
使
'Whenever I read lives like Shang Ziping and Tai Xiaowei I ache with longing.' 'Orphaned, spoiled by mother and brother without classical drill, steeping instead in Laozi-Zhuangzi, my ambition for rank rotted while love of freedom deepened.' 'Ruan Ji never gossiped—I try to model him and still fall short.' 'His nature was fierce yet gentle to others—only drinking drew ritualists' hatred, until the Grand General shielded him.' 'I lack his gifts yet carry insolence and slackness;' 'I misread human tides and mistime every move;' 'I am no paragon of stone-faced caution yet always speak my whole mind;' 'long tangled in office, fault lines widen daily—how could I dodge scandal?'
42
便
'Daoist lore promises long life from atractylodes and sealwort—I want to believe it.' 'I exult in roaming hills, greeting fish and birds—' 'the moment I buckle on an official seal, joy ends—could I trade beloved freedom for feared bondage?'
43
'True friendship reads innate nature and eases it forward:' 'Yu never forced the sage hermit Bozhang Zigao—honoring his height of character;' 'Confucius refused Zixia's umbrella—shielding his fussy flaw.' 'Zhuge Liang never pressed Xu Shu west; Hua Xin never strong-armed Guan You'an into high office—such men knew how to respect a friend's whole arc.' 'I have taken my own augury. If my path ends in ruin, so be it—do not push me into the ditch for nothing.'
44
'Freshly bereaved of mother and brother, I ache constantly.' 'My daughter thirteen, son eight—still children, still sick—how can I bear to leave them?' 'I only want a mean lane, music, muddy wine, chatter with old friends, teaching the young—why must I prove chastity to some petty inspector?' 'If you drag me up the road to power for joint advancement, merriment will sour into frenzy the day you push too hard.' 'I would not speak so harshly were this not existential.' 'Consider this explanation your parting gift.'
45
Once the letter spread, everyone saw he could never be harnessed. He loathed petty cleverness and loved to hammer iron. A lush willow shaded his yard; he trench-irrigated a ring around it and spent midsummer forging in its cool. Lü An of Dongping revered him; a whim of longing sent Lü driving a thousand li, and Ji Kang welcomed him as a dear friend. Later Lü An's brother framed him; confessions in jail implicated Ji Kang, who was seized again. Fastidious in word and deed, he wrote his 'Poem of Secret Resentment' from prison:
46
'Alas, thin my fate—orphaned young, still swaddled, knowing nothing.' 'Mother and brother coddled without discipline; I followed whim, untaught.' 'At capping I leaned on indulgence, set my heart on antiquity, and chased whatever I admired.' 'Laozi-Zhuangzi taught me to slight things and prize the self—to keep plainness and nurture the whole.'
47
宿
'They call me dim—loving good yet blind to men—like Ziyu's defeats piling blame.' 'Great souls embrace shame to hide another's stain.' 'Men are crooked; rule never rests with oneself alone.' My narrow heart alone blurts judgments of good and bad. 'Awakened, I brood on faults like fresh wounds.' 'I try to curb fault, yet slander boils; I harm no creature, yet hatred gathers.' 'Once I blushed before Liuxia Hui; now before Sun Deng—betraying my old vow, shaming true friends.' 'I revere Yan Zun and Zheng Zizhen, who loved the Way in quiet homes—no striving with the world, spirits calm.'
48
'Alas, weak my virtue—trouble rings me round.' 'Not heaven's curse—my own stubborn slack snapped principle into jail.' 'Grilled by vile questions, tangled here—ashamed to plead innocence, the hour is wrong.' 'Though my case is just, my spirit is broken; even bathing in Canglang's stream cannot wash the stain.' 'Wild geese cry in tune, beat north on season's cue, carefree in joy.' 'Alas, my rage—never their match.' 'Events thwart my will; I linger here—riches and ruin are fated—what more to seek?'
49
'The ancients said: best stay shy of renown.' 'Serve the age in humble silence—no regret rises.' 'The Wan clan's stone-like care kept kin safe and honor bright.' 'Worldly clamor stirs my heart; guard peace and joy to end in lasting good.' The numinous lingzhi blazes forth three times each year. So why am I stalled—high aims I never reach? Scarred by disaster I yearn for renewal, gnawed by guilt, vowing the morrow will bear neither fame nor infamy. I will pluck ferns in glens, loose my hair on cliffs, whistle for life, and breathe to lengthen years.
50
Once, destitute, he hammered iron under a tree with Xiang Xiu to earn his keep. Zhong Hui—a polished aristocrat—paid a call hoping to spar in debate. Ji Kang ignored him and kept hammering. As Zhong rose to leave, Ji Kang asked, "What rumor brought you? What sight sends you away?" Zhong snapped, "I came for what I heard; I leave from what I saw." Zhong nursed a grudge. At his chance he told Sima Zhao, "Ji Kang is a sleeping dragon you will never harness. Forget the realm—worry about Ji Kang." He added the lie that Ji Kang meant to join Wuqiu Jian's revolt and was blocked only by Shan Tao. Ancient states executed men who broke the moral order—saints pruned such weeds. Ji Kang, Lü An, and their circle sneer at the classics—no throne can tolerate them. Kill them on a pretext to cleanse society." The regent, ear bent to Zhong Hui, had them executed together.
51
西宿 調
Three thousand academy scholars begged to study under him at the block; the court refused. He studied the sundial, called for his zither, and said, "Yuan Zhun once begged for the Guangling melody—I was too stingy. Today the Guangling tune dies with me." He was forty. The empire mourned him. Sima Zhao soon repented—but too late. Long before, west of the Luo, he lodged at Huayang pavilion and played his zither. At midnight a stranger calling himself an ancient shared music theory, played the peerless Guangling score, handed it over, swore Ji Kang to secrecy, and vanished nameless.
52
He argued principle and wrote prose with cool distance always veering toward the arcane. He wrote lives of ancient worthies, courting their ghosts as friends. His Grand Tutor Admonition spells out kingship itself. His essay "Sound Has Neither Joy Nor Sorrow" is tightly reasoned. His son Ji Shao has his own chapter.
53
Xiang Xiu, courtesy Ziqi, came from Huai in Henei. Bright and farsighted, he came early to Shan Tao's notice and loved Daoist texts. Generations had read Zhuangzi without cracking its spine; Xiang Xiu's commentary awakened readers to a new metaphysical breeze. Guo Xiang later elaborated the same line, burying Confucianism and Mohism under rising Daoist fashion. When Xiang Xiu began annotating Zhuangzi, Ji Kang joked, "Does that text need glosses? You only spoil the sport." When the draft was done he asked, "Still not better than the original?" They sparred over longevity lore simply to draw out Ji Kang's wit.
54
Ji Kang smithied while Xiang Xiu pumped the bellows, both grinning as if alone in the world. With Lü An he tended gardens in Shanyang. After the execution Xiang Xiu answered a census call and went to Luoyang. Sima Zhao asked why a Mount-Ji recluse had come to court. He replied that hermits like Chao and Xu were cramped pedants who never grasped Yao's mind—not worth imitating. The regent beamed. Then he wrote his "Rhapsody Recalling Old Friends":
55
西
"Ji Kang kept a cool distance, Lü An was effusive; both died by the law." "Ji Kang mastered every art; facing execution he read the sundial and played his zither one last time." "Now I ride west past their lanes." "The sun sank toward Yuquan; ice-bit air bit sharp." "A neighbor's flute pierced the dusk, bright and clear." "Moved by that sound, I sigh for old feasts and set brush to silk:"
56
"Ordered to the distant capital, I wheel my carriage north again;" "I float the Yellow River and pass our Shanyang homes;" "I scan bleak fields and halt my horses at the wall;" "I walk their lanes—only empty cottages;" "I sigh like the Odes for fallen Zhou, grieve like the wheat song for lost Yin;" "Past and present knot my heart in hesitation;" "The beams still stand—where are their souls?" "Li Si, condemned, moaned for his yellow hound;" "I mourn Ji Kang, who read the shadow and played his zither;" "I lodge my fate in a breath of shadow;" "The flute's passion fades yet I strain to hear;" "My chariot waits—so I dip ink to bare the heart."
57
Later he held titular court posts, leaving no mark of power. He died in office. His sons were Xiang Chun and Xiang Ti.
58
鹿使便 便
Liu Ling, courtesy Bolun, came from Pei. He stood six chi tall and was famously ugly. He treated heaven and earth as a speck and the myriad things as equals. Silent and solitary until he met Ruan Ji and Ji Kang—then he plunged into the grove with them, soul alight. Wealth never crossed his mind. He rode a deer cart with wine while a servant trailed with a spade, saying, "Where I drop, dig me in." So little did he cling to the flesh. Once parched, he begged wine from his wife. She smashed the jars and wept, "Your drinking will kill you—you must quit." He said, "Well spoken! I cannot stop alone—I must swear off drink before the spirits. Set out wine and meat for the oath." She obeyed. He knelt and intoned, "Heaven spawned Liu Ling to prove the power of wine. One hu steadies me; five dou clears the dregs. Never heed a wife or child." Then he ate, drank, and passed out again. Drunk once, he insulted a bully who came swinging fists. Liu Ling drawled, "These ribs of a frame cannot hold your mighty fists." The man laughed and walked off.
59
For all his stupor his timing was exact. He wrote almost nothing save the "Eulogy on the Virtue of Wine." It begins:
60
"A great soul treats the cosmos as one morning, eternity as a blink, sun and moon as windows, the eight wastes as his courtyard." "He leaves no tracks, owns no roof—sky his curtain, earth his mat—roaming wherever whim leads." "Stopped, he grips cup and horn; moving, he hoists keg and jug—wine is his trade; the rest is noise." "Pedants hear of him, roll up sleeves, gnash teeth, thundering ritual until right and wrong swarm." "The master hugs the vat, rinses mash in his teeth, sprawls on lees—thoughtless, ecstatic." "He floats drunk, then snaps awake;" "Deaf to thunder, blind to Tai;" "numb to frost and flame, deaf to greed;" "Below him creation teems like duckweed on a sea;" "the moralists at his side look like wasps beside worms."
61
調
He once served as adjutant to the general who displays might. At the opening of Taishi he aced the policy exam praising non-action. Classmates won high placement; Liu Ling alone failed as useless. Liu Ling died in bed of old age.
62
輿
Xie Kun, courtesy Youyu, came from Yangxia in Chen. His grandfather Xie Zuan commanded the agricultural colonies. His father Xie Heng was a noted Confucian scholar who became libationer of the national university. Young Xie Kun was famous for insight and ease—he loved the Changes and Laozi, sang and played zither, and won Wang Yan's and Ji Shao's admiration.
63
稿 便 輿 宿 便鹿
Under Yongxing, Prince Wang Yi of Changsha entered the capital; a slanderer claimed Xie Kun meant to desert. Wang Yi ordered a flogging; Xie Kun stripped without flinching. Freed, he showed no elation either. Sima Yue summoned him as clerk; he lost his post when a servant stole official fuel. Wang Xuan and Ruan Xiu mourned his fall from the ministry. Xie Kun merely sang and played, unruffled—everyone marveled at his distance from fame. He flirted with a neighbor's beauty; she hurled her shuttle and knocked out two teeth. Wits sang, "So free he lost his teeth—our Youyu!" He roared with laughter, "She never silenced my song!" Sima Yue soon recalled him as military adjutant. Troubled times drove him to resign and flee to Yuzhang. He once slept in a murder-haunted post-house. At dawn a yellow-clad voice demanded entry; he reached through the lattice, tore off a shoulder—it was a bleeding deer, not a ghost. The haunt never troubled travelers again.
64
Wang Dun made him chief clerk; he earned the Xianting marquisate crushing Du Tao. After mourning his mother he became Wang Dun's chief clerk. At Wang Dun's banquet he talked only to Xie Kun, ignoring Wang Dun—such was his charisma. He chased neither fame nor polish, lived in moral gray zones, yet never debased the ideal. Wang Dun's treason showed plain to all. Knowing he could not steer Wang Dun, he drifted, shirked duties, and offered only oblique counsel. He caroused with the Seven Sages set; Wang Dun honored his name.
65
使 使
Crown prince Sima Shao adored him on a mission to the capital. The heir asked how he compared to Yu Liang. He replied, "In court regalia, making ministers take their cue, I fall short of Yu Liang. Among hills and streams I surpass him." Wen Jiao told Xie Shang his father's discernment rivaled Zhuge Jin's praise of Sun Quan.
66
使 便
As Wang Dun plotted revolt he said, "Liu Wei threatens the state. I will purge the villain beside the throne—what say you?" Xie Kun answered, "Liu Wei is a pest, yet only a fox on the city wall, a rat in the shrine—" Wang Dun snarled that he was a mediocrity. Wang Dun named him governor of Yuzhang yet held him hostage for his prestige. At Stone Citadel Wang Dun sighed he could no longer play the benefactor. Xie Kun asked why despair. From today forget yesterday's grudges, day by day." Wang Dun once planned to name Zhou Yi and Dai Yuan to high office. Entering the capital he asked the mood of the city. Xie Kun said, "Your move may save the dynasty, but rumor has not caught your noble aim. Win the people by elevating Zhou Yi and Dai Yuan." That day Wang Dun arrested Zhou and Dai without telling Xie Kun, then accused him of stupidity. They would not serve me—I have seized them." Xie Kun reeled as if he had died with Zhou Yi. Wang Jiao protested Zhou Yi's death; Wang Dun ordered him executed—none dared speak. Xie Kun said, "You launch a coup yet kill no one— yet for one blunt remonstrance you would kill Wang Jiao and paint the war drum with his blood? That crosses the line!" Wang Dun relented.
67
使 退 使
After murdering loyalists Wang Dun feigned illness and prepared to withdraw to Wuchang. Xie Kun urged him to face the emperor and heal the realm's mistrust. A royal audience would calm court and country. Humility before the throne would crown your deed for ages." Wang Dun asked, "Can you guarantee no treachery?" Xie Kun swore the emperor waited eagerly and the palace was calm. Let me escort you in." Wang Dun roared that killing hundreds would not matter. He marched away without an audience. Friends feared for Xie Kun's life. Yet Xie Kun stayed calm and spoke plain truth. Wang Dun ignored his counsel and nursed resentment. Sent to his province, he ruled cleanly and the people loved him. He died in office at forty-three. After Wang Dun fell he was canonized minister of rites as "Kang." His son Xie Shang has his own biography.
68
Biography of Hu Wu Fuzhi.
69
Huwu Fuzhi, courtesy Yanguo, came from Fenggao in Taishan. His ancestor Huwu Ban was Bearer of the Golden Mace under Han. His father Huwu Yuan was a soldier-scholar praised by Shan Tao and ended as magistrate of Henan. Youth brought him fame and a knack for reading character. He drank freely and scorned petty scruples. Wang Yan favored him with Wang Cheng, Wang Dun, and Yu Kai as the "Four Friends." Wang Cheng wrote that Fuzhi showered wit like sawdust—leader of the rising generation.
70
He declined aide posts to the grand commandant. Poor, he took acting magistrate of Fanchang, sobered up, and earned a capable name. He rose to Gentleman of the Masters of Writing. He helped crush Sima Jiong and won the Yinping barony. He became chief clerk of the left in the ministry of education. He then sought field duty as General Who Establishes Might and governor of Le'an. He drank day and night with Guang Yi and ignored the yamen. When Sima Ying was heir apparent, Fuzhi joined the carousing set with Xie Kun and others.
71
使 使
Drinking at the Henan commandery gate, he ordered a courier Wang Zibo to fetch a light. The man snapped that he served no one. Huwu Fuzhi talked with him and cried, "I am not his peer!" He recommended Wang Zibo to Yue Guang, who made him merit assessor. Such was his eye for talent.
72
His son Hu Wu Qianzhi.
73
Huwu Qianzhi, courtesy Ziguang, fell short of his father's learning but outdid him in swagger. Drunk, he called his father "Yanguo" to his face; Fuzhi only laughed—others called him mad. Once, as Fuzhi drank, his son barked, "Old Yanguo, stop this— you will leave me arse to the east wall!" Fuzhi laughed him inside to share the jar. Such were his ways. He died before thirty.
74
滿便
Bi Zhuo, courtesy Maoshi, came from Tongyang in Xincai. His father Bi Chen was a palace secretary. Youthful Bi Zhuo yearned for freedom and won Huwu Fuzhi's notice. Late in Taixing he was personnel director who drank away his duties. A neighbor's wine matured; Bi Zhuo, drunk, raided the vats at night and was tied up by the cellar master—come dawn they found the thief was the personnel minister himself and cut him loose. He dragged the owner into a binge beside the casks, then staggered off. He said life would be complete with a boatload of wine, delicacies fore and aft, a cup in one hand and crab claws in the other, splashing midstream. South of the Yangzi he served Wen Jiao as chief clerk and died in harness.
75
輿 使宿
Wang Ni, courtesy Xiaosun, was said to hail from Chengyang or Henei. Son of a soldier family in Luoyang, he was bold and unbending. Huwu Fuzhi, Wang Cheng, Fu Chang, Liu Yu, Xun Sui, and Pei Xia petitioned the Henan clerks to free him from military service. The magistrates dared not break the rules. They arrived with mutton and wine; the gate captain reported up; the general muttered that such a deputation meant trouble. They bypassed the general, roasted mutton in Wang Ni's stable, drank their fill, and left. The general, stunned, gave Wang Ni long leave and struck him from the rolls. Sima Teng offered him a staff post; he refused. Wang Ni said wastrel He Sui would not live long in troubled times. Friends warned He Sui would retaliate. Wang Ni answered that He Sui was already a dead man walking. He Sui soon fell to Sima Yue's purge. Entering Luoyang he refused to bow to Sima Yue. He said Sima Yue lacked the talent of a true chancellor. He listed the warlord's failings bluntly. He added that Sima Yue owed him a debt. Sima Yue gaped—how could that be? Wang Ni cited the parable of the lost cloth blamed on the chief minister. Sima Yue's troops had stripped him bare—so the debt was real. Sima Yue roared with laughter and handed him fifty bolts of silk. Luoyang grandees showered him with gifts. When Luoyang fell he fled to Jiangxia. Jingzhou inspector Wang Deng treated him kindly. Widowed early, he had one son. Homeless, he lived in an ox-cart with his boy. He sighed that chaos left nowhere safe. After Wang Deng died and famine struck, he slaughtered his ox and burned his cart for food. When the food ran out, father and son starved.
76
簿
Yang Man, courtesy Zuyan, descended from Yang Hu's brother's line. His father Yang Ji governed Yangping. Youth brought fame; he spurned provincial and court summons. East of the river he became Sima Rui's adjutant and confidential clerk. He rose to personnel director and Jinling governor until a public scandal dismissed him. He drank freely and lived loose. He ran with Wen Jiao, Yu Liang, Ruan Fang, and Huan Yi—stars of the Eastern Jin revival. Yang Man headed the "Eight Barons" clique aping the Han Eight Paragons—each man had a mock noble title.
77
When Wang Dun held the capital, Yang Man became his chief clerk. Knowing Wang Dun's treason, he stayed drunk and offered only veiled advice. Wang Dun honored his name but gave him no real work, sparing him the purge. After Wang Dun fell he became governor of Danyang. New southern appointees vied to host banquets. Yang Man's feasts started lavish for early guests and thinned by night—he never ranked guests by rank. His kinsman Yang Gu fed everyone lavishly all day, even latecomers. Critics said Yang Gu's opulence lacked Yang Man's honest ease.
78
Su Jun's revolt won him general's rank to hold Cloud Dragon Gate. Imperial forces faltered; friends urged retreat. Where could a loyalist flee for life? He held his post and died to Su Jun at fifty-five. After Su Jun fell he was canonized minister of rites. His son Yang Ben married Mingdi's daughter and died young. His brother was Yang Dan.
79
Yang Dan, courtesy Pengzu. He skipped scholarship and was mocked as dull. After the Eight Barons came the "Four Barons" mockery. Yang Dan was dubbed "Petty Baron" beside three other jest titles, aping the Four Fiends.
80
殿 便
He entered Yuan's chancellery and rose to governor of Luling. Brutal and well-connected, he killed over slights. He massacred over two hundred—including babies—on a bandit scare. Yu Liang arrested him for the capital. The law demanded death, but kinship to the empress triggered the eight deliberations. Chengdi called the case unprecedented—no eight deliberations. He spared public execution and ordered prison suicide. Prince-in-law Yang Ben begged to divorce him. An edict cited the rule that guilt does not taint kin. Yang Dan's guilt should not stain Yang Ben. The throne refused the divorce. Lady Shan, Yang Dan's niece, fell to her knees to plead for his life. Wang Dao urged maximum punishment. Yet killing him might kill the grieving grand consort. A second edict cited Lady Shan's grief. The emperor recalled her nurture like a mother's. He feared her death more than his own shame. He spared Yang Dan to console Lady Shan. Yang Dan was stripped of office. Soon visions of his victims drove him mad and he died within days.
81
使 便
Guang Yi, courtesy Mengzu, came from Le'an. A frozen courier, he warmed himself in his boss's bed. The magistrate returned furious. Guang Yi pleaded poverty—his clothes were soaked. Without warmth he would freeze—better than dying for modesty. A humane magistrate would not punish that sleep. The magistrate spared him. He later greeted a new magistrate bound for the capital. Huwu Fuzhi and Xun Sui spotted him as a genius in the street. They hauled him into a carriage for a long talk and confirmed his brilliance. The magistrate fumed that his guests dallied with a clerk. He struck Guang Yi from the roster.
82
便
Recommended as filial, he quit to join Huwu Fuzhi. Sima Yue snubbed him as low-born despite Fuzhi's memo. Later at a banquet Sima Yue scolded Fuzhi for poor recommendations. Fuzhi answered that Guang Yi had been recommended but blackballed for pedigree. Sima Yue summoned him on the spot. Local clerks thought the summons a mistake until they saw his name. He fled south with the court and again joined Fuzhi. He arrived while Huwu Fuzhi and friends had been naked, hair down, drinking behind locked doors for days. Blocked at the door, Guang Yi stripped and shoved his head through the dog flap, shouting. Huwu Fuzhi shouted, "No one else would dare—that is my Guang Yi!" They hauled him in and drank without pause for days. Onlookers dubbed them the Eight Free Spirits. Emperor Yuan appointed Guang Yi army adviser with libationer's stipend. When the Eastern Jin court stood, he became palace counselor and died in harness.
83
退
The historian writes: without a fixed Way, inquiry reaches everywhere; when truth outruns speech, passion falls away. In office they mingled with dust and shunned fame; in withdrawal they harmonized with nature and kept Heaven's core. Laozi modeled silence, Zhuangzi spun fables—like soundless music that still draws the phoenix dance. Zhuangzi preached release yet argued without end; they scorned tinsel rank yet scorned kings who wore it; they mocked lickers of sores and crows at carrion—Zhuangzi's bitter jests. Their talk toyed with scandal the way Zhuangzi's empty boat excuses rage—yet it stirred the age like rolled sleeves. Ji Kang's circle drank Zhuang's wine yet camped in Laozi's quiet. Where heaven's pattern needs officials in harness, they cast ritual aside. So Yao exalted Xu You beyond the dust, Guangwu left Yan Ziling on the stream—landscape itself became the stipend of reclusion; ministers kept their vows, rulers kept repute. From Ji's break with Shan Tao to Ruan's "Great Man," from naked advisers to stolen wine—were they fouling themselves because the age despised fame? At the forge and Guangwu Pass they sealed Ji Kang's silent zither and Ruan Ji's lonely breath. Their shortcuts wither public morals; call them to office and they become empty sacks. Yet beyond the ruts they still reward the gaze. They answered spirit with spirit—flute notes at dusk, carriages racing for a last word. So this chapter gathers their scattered tales.
84
The encomium sings: Laozi planted the seed, Confucius weighed the scales; each path keeps its charm, yet the nameless Way is highest; Those who flouted ritual were chasing the art of the fulfilled life. Autumn floods lift long waves; spring clouds soften the sunlight. Fine wine was their virtue; emptiness was their nature. Who could condemn their temper without faulting the throne?
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