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In the last month of summer, the sun is in the willow, the fire is in the dusk, and the Kui is in the morning. The days are Bing and Ding. Its emperor is Yan Emperor, and its god is Zhurong. Its insects are feathers. Its sound is Zheng, and its rhythm is Lin Zhong. Its number is seven. Its taste is bitter, and its smell is burnt. Its offering is to the stove and the lungs. The warm wind begins to arrive, crickets live on the wall, eagles learn, and rotten grass becomes fireflies. The emperor resides in the right side of 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 coarse. He orders fishermen to kill dragons and catch alligators, and climb turtles and catch sea turtles. He orders marsh people to collect wood and reeds.

King Wen of Jin had great merits and virtues, and he sat at the table with solemnity and respect, worthy of a king. Only Ruan Ji was sitting there, sitting cross-legged, whistling and singing, feeling relaxed and at ease.

Confucius got up early, put his hands behind his back and dragged his stick, and swayed at the door, singing, "Is Mount Tai collapsing? Is the beam breaking? Is the philosopher withering?" After singing, he went in and sat in front of the door. Zigong heard it and said, "If Mount Tai collapses, where can I look up? If the beam breaks and the philosopher withers, where can I go? Master, I am afraid you will be ill." Then he hurried in. The Master said, "Ci! Why are you so late? The Xia emperor was buried on the east steps, which was like being in the east; the Yin people buried between the two pillars, which meant that they were flanked by the host and the guest; the Zhou people buried on the west steps, which was like being the guest. And I am a Yin person. Last night, I dreamed that I was sitting and lying between the two pillars. If a wise king does not rise, who in the world can respect me? I am about to die." He died after seven days of illness.




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