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Wang Ziyou lived in Shanyin. It snowed heavily at night. He woke up, opened the room, and ordered wine to be poured. The sky was bright all around, so I stood up and imitated the poet, reciting Zuo Si's poem to invite hermits. Suddenly I remembered Dai Andao, who was in Shan at that time, so I took a small boat to visit him at night. After walking a night, he finally arrived, but he opened the door without going forward and turned back. When asked why, the king said, "I went out for fun and returned when the fun wore off. Why should I see Dai?"
Zhu Jiye asked Sun Sheng: "When will your national history be completed?" Sun said: "It has been a long time since I finished it, but I have no time to finish it, so I have waited until today." Zhu said: "The ancients 'narrated but did not create', so why do we have to work in the silkworm room?"
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?"
Taoist Lin went to see Mr. Xie. He was a child in Dongyang. He had just recovered from an illness and was not yet able to bear the hard work. After discussing with Mr. Lin, they ended up quarreling with each other. His mother, Lady Wang, listened to it from behind the wall, and then sent another letter ordering him to return, but the Grand Tutor kept him. Mrs. Wang then went out and said, "My new wife suffered a family tragedy when she was young. This child is all I have for my life." She burst into tears and took the child home. Mr. Xie said to his companions, "My sister-in-law's speech was so passionate and impressive that it is worthy of being passed down. I regret that I did not allow the officials to see it."
Then the bald people do not strip, the hunchbacks do not bare, and the lame people do not jump, not because they are not sad; if the body is sick, it is not suitable for the ritual. Therefore, it is said: the funeral ceremony is mainly about mourning. Women cry and mourn, beat their chests and feel sad; men cry and mourn, bow their heads and touch the ground, which is the extreme of sorrow.
When following the teacher, I will not cross the road to talk to others. When I met the teacher on the road, I walked towards him, stood upright and bowed. If the teacher talks to him, he will respond; if the teacher doesn't talk to him, he will retreat.
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