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Wang Ziyou left the capital and was still at the foot of the islet. I had heard before that Huan Ziye was good at playing the flute, but we didn't know each other. The king met Huan passing by on the shore while he was in the boat. A passenger who recognized him said, "This is Huan Ziye." The king then sent someone to tell him, "I heard that you are good at playing the flute. Please try to play it for me." Huan was already noble and prominent at that time. He had always heard of the king's name, so he got off the car, sat on a Hu bed, and played three tunes for him. After finishing, he got in the car. The host and the guest did not exchange a single word.
In this month, the emperor began to wear furs. He ordered the officials to say: The sky is rising, the earth is falling, the sky and the earth are not connected, and winter has come. He ordered all officials to cover and store carefully. He ordered the minister of justice to go around and accumulate, and collect everything. He destroyed the city walls, guarded the gates, repaired the keys and gates, carefully managed the flutes, strengthened the borders, prepared for the borders, completed the fortresses, carefully closed the bridges, and blocked the paths. He ordered the funeral rules, distinguished the clothes, and examined the thickness of the coffins, the size, height, thickness of the tombs, and the levels of the nobles and the humble.
Zu Guanglu was orphaned and poor when he was young. He was very filial and often cooked for his mother. Wang Pingbei heard of his good name and gave him two maids as a reward, and then appointed him as a Zhonglang. Someone teased him, saying, "The price of a slave is twice that of a maid." Zu said, "Why should Baili Xi be less valuable than the skins of five goats?"
Huan Xuan once climbed up to the southern tower of Jiangling City and said, "I want to write a eulogy for Wang Xiaobo now." He chanted and whistled for a long time, and then began to write. I took a moment to sit and write this eulogy.
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.
Duke Huan entered the gorge, where sheer cliffs hung high into the sky and the waves rose swiftly. He sighed and said, "Since I am a loyal minister, I cannot be a filial son. What should I do?"
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