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When Lord Gaogui passed away, there was an uproar both inside and outside the city. Sima Wenwang asked Chen Tai, the attendant, "How can we calm it down?" Tai said, "Only by killing Jia Chong can we thank the world." Sima Wenwang asked, "Can we lower this level?" Chen Tai replied, "We only see the upper level, not the lower level."
Confucians have a palace of one acre, a room with round walls, a door with bamboo, a thatched door and a window with urns; they change their clothes and go out, and eat every day. They dare not doubt the emperor's answer, and dare not flatter the emperor's answer. They are like this in their official career.
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.
Xie Gong said: "The wise and sages leave people behind, and their leisure time is also close." His sons and nephews did not agree with him. The Duke sighed and said, "If Xi Chao heard this, he would never reach the Hehan River."
After asking the mother of Yinman's father, he was buried together in Fang. When a neighbor dies, the pounding of rice does not meet; when a village dies, people do not sing in the alley. The mourner's cap is not tied.
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