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After Deng Jingling was dismissed from office, he went to the mountain tomb and met the Grand Marshal Huan Gong. The Duke asked him, "Why have you become thinner?" Deng said, "I feel ashamed of Shuda, and I cannot help but feel resentful for the broken steamer!"
In the last month of summer, the sun is in the willow, the fire is in the dusk, and the Kui is in the morning. The days are Bing and Ding. Its emperor is Yan Emperor, and its god is Zhurong. Its insects are feathers. Its sound is Zheng, and its rhythm is Lin Zhong. Its number is seven. Its taste is bitter, and its smell is burnt. Its offering is to the stove and the lungs. The warm wind begins to arrive, crickets live on the wall, eagles learn, and rotten grass becomes fireflies. The emperor resides in the right side of Mingtang, rides on a red road, drives a red horse, carries a red flag, wears a red robe, and wears red jade. He eats beans and chickens, and his utensils are high and coarse. He orders fishermen to kill dragons and catch alligators, and climb turtles and catch sea turtles. He orders marsh people to collect wood and reeds.
When Ji Sun's mother died, Duke Ai went to offer condolences. Zengzi and Zigong went to offer condolences. The gatekeeper did not let them in because the king was present. Zengzi and Zigong went into the stable and dressed up. Zigong went in first, and the gatekeeper said, "The governor has already told us." Zengzi went in later, and the gatekeeper let him in. When they went inside, the nobles and officials all left their seats, and the Duke lowered his rank and bowed to them. The gentleman said, "If you use all your skills, you will go far." When Jiefu of Yangmen died, the city manager Zihan went in and cried. The Jin people who spied on Song reported back to the Duke of Jin, saying, "Jiefu of Yangmen died, and Zihan wept bitterly, and the people were pleased. It is unlikely that he should be attacked." Confucius heard about it and said, "How good is the spying on the country! The Book of Songs says, 'When the people are in mourning, they should be supported and clothed.' Although it is only a small country like Jin, who in the world can do it?"
Sun Xinggong said: "Pan's writing is like a piece of brocade, and everything is good; Lu's writing is like separating gold from sand, and treasures are often found."
Huan Xuan was the Taifu, and when he held a meeting, all the court officials gathered. After the judgment was made, he asked Wang Zhenzhi, "How am I compared to your seventh uncle?" The guests breathed their last at that moment. The king replied slowly, "My late uncle was a role model of his time, and you are a hero for thousands of years." Everyone in the room rejoiced.
Zhi Daoling asked Sun Xinggong: "How do you compare to Xu Yuan?" Sun said: "Your sentiments are high and far-reaching, and I have already accepted them early. If you recite a poem, Xu will face north."
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