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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.
When Gu Changkang painted people, he might not be able to paint their eyes well for several years. People asked why? Gu said: "The beauty of the body is irrelevant; the essence of the portrayal lies in the details."
They seek but cannot find him, they enter the door but cannot see him, they go up to the hall but cannot see him, they enter the room but cannot see him. He is gone, he is dead! He can never be seen again! Therefore, they cry and dance, and stop when they have exhausted their grief. Their hearts are sad and sorrowful, they are confused and angry, their hearts are broken and their wills are sad. They offer sacrifices to the ancestral temples and offer sacrifices to the ghosts, hoping that they will return.
Wang Rong lost his son Wanzi. Shan Jian went to visit him, and the king was overwhelmed with grief. Jian said, "How could the thing in the child's arms be like this?" The king said, "The sages are oblivious to emotions, and the lowest among the poor are not even capable of emotions. Emotions are focused on people of our generation." Jian was convinced by his words and felt even more sad.
Wei Wu had a prostitute whose voice was the most noble, but whose temperament was extremely evil. If you want to kill someone, you love his talent; if you want to place him, you cannot bear it. So he selected a hundred people and taught them all at the same time. After a while, there was another voice heard, and the evil person was killed.
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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