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In the first month of summer, the sun is in Bi, the sun sets in Yizhong, and the sun rises in Wunuzhong. The days are Bing and Ding. Its emperor is Yandi, and its god is Zhurong. Its insect is feather. Its note is Zheng, and its rhythm is Zhonglü. Its number is seven. Its taste is bitter, and its smell is burnt. Its offering is to the stove god, and its lung is sacrificed. Crickets chirp, earthworms come out, king melons grow, and bitter herbs bloom. The emperor lives in the left side of the 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 rough.
Confucians do not fall in poverty, do not bend in wealth, do not be ashamed of the king, do not burden the elders, and do not pity the officials, so they are called Confucians. Nowadays, people call them Confucians, which is absurd, and often criticize each other as Confucians. "
Zhuge Liang later entered Jin and was appointed Grand Marshal, but he could not be summoned. Because he had a feud with the Jin Dynasty, he always sat with his back to the Luo River. She was an old acquaintance of Emperor Wu, and the emperor wanted to see her but had no way to do so, so he asked Concubine Zhuge to call Liang. When she arrived, the emperor met with the concubine dowager. After the ceremony and when they were drunk, the emperor said, "Do you still remember our childhood friendship?" Liang said, "I cannot bear to see my body covered in charcoal and lacquer. Today I see your holy face again." He burst into tears. The emperor then left in shame and regret.
The father and son of Yin Taichang of Jiangzuo were both able to reason, but they also had differences in their eloquence and taciturnity. When Yangzhou talked a lot, Taichang would say, "You should think more about my argument."
When Wei Jie was a child, he asked Le Ling about his "dream", and Le Ling replied, "It's just thinking." Wei said, "If you dream about something that is not connected between your body and your spirit, how can it be imagination?" Le said, "It is cause. I have never dreamed of riding a car into a rat hole, or pounding vegetables with an iron pestle. This is because there is no imagination and no cause." Wei thought about the "cause" for several days but could not find one, and thus he fell ill. I was pleased to hear it, so I ordered my driver to analyze it. Wei is slightly worse. Le sighed and said, "This child must not have any serious illness in his chest!"
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