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Yuan Hu was poor when he was young and once worked as a servant carrying rent for others. Xie Zhenxi was traveling by boat. That night the wind was clear and the moon was bright. He heard the sound of passengers reciting poems on a boat on the river bank, which was quite sentimental. The five-character verse he recited was something he had never heard before, and he could not stop admiring it. He immediately sent someone to interrogate him in detail, and it turned out that it was Yuan himself who was reciting the historical poem he had written. Therefore, they wanted each other and were greatly appreciated.
Wang Pingzi looked at the Taiwei and said, "Brother, your appearance is like Taoism, but your spirit is too sharp." The Taiwei replied, "I am not as calm and solemn as you."
After the grave is completed, they return home, and dare not enter the room. They live in a lean-to, mourning for their parents outside; they sleep on straw and pillows, mourning for their parents in the ground. Therefore, they cry without time, serve diligently for three years, and their longing for their parents is the will of filial sons and the reality of human nature.
If the guest is not here to eat or drink, then a table will be laid out with a space of one meter between them. The host kneels at the table, and the guest kneels and touches the table to leave. The guest left the seat, but the host refused. The guest stepped onto the mat and sat down. If the host doesn't ask, the guest shouldn't raise his question first. I will improvise, so don't be embarrassed. Use both hands to pull the clothes up to the ruler. Do not tear your clothes and do not step on your feet.
When Ruan Bubing lost his mother, Pei Linggong went to offer condolences. Ruan Fang was drunk, sat on the bed with his hair loose, and did not cry. Pei arrived, sat on the ground, cried and mourned, and then left. Someone asked Pei, "In a condolence ceremony, the host cries and the guests perform the rituals. Since Ruan didn't cry, why did you cry?" Pei said, "Ruan is an outsider, so he doesn't respect rituals. We are ordinary people, so we take rituals as our own." People at that time sighed that he had achieved the best of both worlds.
When Yu Zisong finished writing a fu, his follower Wenkang saw it and asked, "If there is intention, then it is not the end of fu; if there is no intention, then what is there to write about?" He replied, "It is somewhere between intention and no intention."
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