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"Confucians praise their relatives without avoiding relatives, and promote their relatives without avoiding enemies. They accumulate merits and deeds, promote the virtuous and promote them, and do not expect rewards. The king gets his will and does not seek wealth and honor as long as it benefits the country. They can promote the virtuous and support them like this.
Wang Zijing asked Master Xie, "How is Jiabin compared to Daoji?" He replied, "Daoji is sincere in copying and summarizing the clear enlightenment, so Jiabin is superior."
When Confucius arrived at his house, he felt sorry for the mansion. When he heard this, he became more faithful in his words and more righteous in his actions: "I will never dare to joke about Confucianism until I die."
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.
"No! In the beginning of Lu, the royal family looked at the Fengbei, and the three families looked at the Huanying. In the same way, if someone's mother was skilled, then can't you do it? Is his mother skilled? Is she sick? Alas!" He didn't follow it.
Wang Junfu used rice from a rice pot to cook, and Shi Jilin used candles to cook. Junfu made a purple silk cloth barrier covered with green satin forty li, while Shi Chong made a brocade barrier fifty li to compete with him. Shi used pepper to make mud, and Wang used red ochre to make mud walls.
Xuanwu was riding in the same carriage with Jianwen and Taizai, and secret orders were sent to beat drums and shout loudly in front and behind the carriage. The procession was disturbed, and the Prime Minister was terrified and asked to get off the carriage. Looking at the brief text, I feel calm and peaceful. Xuanwu said to others, "The court is idle, so we have this wise man again."
Yan Ding was good at mourning: when he died, he was anxious as if he wanted to find it but couldn't get it; when he was buried, he looked around as if he wanted to follow but couldn't reach it; after the burial, he sighed as if he couldn't reach it and stopped.
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