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The king offered five sacrifices to the deceased: the son, the grandson, the great-grandson, the great-great-grandson, and the great-great-grandson. The princes offered three sacrifices, the officials offered two sacrifices, and the suitable scholars and common people offered sacrifices to their sons.
When Bian Fan was the prefect of Danyang, Yang Fu returned temporarily from Nanzhou and went to Bian Xu, saying, "I am too ill to sit." Bian then opened the tent and brushed the mattress. Yang went straight to the big bed, got into the quilt and pillow. Bian Hui sat and looked around, moving the morning towards Damo. After the sheep left, Bian Yu said, "I have expected you to do the right thing, so please don't let me down."
After Yin Zhongjun was deposed from Dongyang, he began to read Buddhist scriptures. When I first read Vimalakirti, I suspected that there was too much Prajnaparamita. Later, when I read the short piece, I hated that there were so few words.
In this month, he orders the four supervisors to gather the fodder of the hundred counties to feed the sacrifices. He orders all the people to contribute their efforts to the gods of the heaven and earth, the mountains, the rivers, and the four directions, to worship the spirits of the ancestral temples and the land, and to pray for the blessings of the people. In this month, he orders women officials to dye and color, and to decorate and decorate according to the law, without any mistakes. Black, yellow, cang, and red must all be of good quality, and no one dares to be false, so as to provide clothes for the sacrifices in the suburbs and temples, as flags, and to distinguish the nobles and the humble.
Wang Ziyou and Zijing were both seriously ill, but Zijing died first. Ziyou asked his attendants, "Why haven't we heard any news? He is already dead!" He showed no sadness at all when he spoke. They asked for a sedan chair and came to the funeral, but did not cry. Zijing had always loved the zither, so he went straight in and sat on the coffin, took out Zijing's zither and played it. When the strings were out of tune, he threw it to the ground and said, "Zijing! Zijing! Both you and the zither are gone." He was in grief for a long time, and died more than a month later.
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