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Chunao: frying the meat, adding it to the land rice and pouring it with fat is called Chunao. Chunwu frying the meat, adding it to the millet food and pouring it with fat is called Chunwu.
When Xie Renzu was eight years old, Xie Yuzhang was about to see off a guest. At that time, he had already attained enlightenment from his words and entered the upper stream. Everyone sighed and said, "He is the younger Yan Hui sitting here." King Renzu said, "Without Ni Fu sitting here, how can we distinguish Yan Hui?"
Xie's cavalry was in trouble in Anxi, and Lin Daoren went to talk to him, but Xie left at dusk. Someone saw him on the road and asked, "Where are you from?" He replied, "I came out today after a conversation with Xie Xiaoju."
Wang Da was an official in the Ministry of Personnel. He once made a draft of an essay. When he was about to submit it to the emperor, Wang Sengmi came and he showed it to him. Seng Mide then changed nearly half of the selections according to his own ideas. Wang Da thought they were very good and rewrote them immediately to present to the king.
"Confucians do not serve the emperor above, nor do they serve the princes below; they are cautious and calm, and they value tolerance. They are strong and resolute in dealing with others, and they are knowledgeable and know how to obey. They are close to literature and sharpen their integrity. Even if the country is divided as a penny, they will not serve. This is their rule.
When Cai Situ was in Luoyang, he saw that Lu Ji and his brothers lived in the three-room tiled house of the Assistant Director General. Shilong lived in the east end and Shiheng lived in the west end. Shilong is a gentle and cute person. Shi Heng was over seven feet tall, his voice was like a bell, and his words were often generous.
Jianwen saw rice in the field and didn't recognize it, so he asked what kind of grass it was. The answer is rice. Jianwen returned and did not come out for three days, saying: "Would you rather rely on the end than know the root?"
Xiahou Taichu once wrote while leaning against a pillar. It was raining heavily at the time, and a thunderbolt broke the pillar he was leaning against. His clothes were burnt, but his expression remained unchanged, and his book was also intact. The guests around were all stumbling and unable to stop.
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