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Chapter 23 of 33
庄子
Overall Paraphrase
Among the disciples of Lao Dan was one named Gengsang Chu, who alone had gained the Master's Way. He went north to dwell in the Weilei Mountains. He dismissed those attendants who were shrewd and calculating, kept away those maidservants who made a show of benevolence, and associated only with those who were simple and slow-witted, employing only those who were aimless and unrestrained. After three years, the land of Weilei had a bountiful harvest.
The people of Weilei discussed among themselves, saying: "When Gengsangzi first arrived, we found him extraordinary and were quite astonished. Now, measured by the day, we feel he has done nothing, but measured by the year, we are abundantly prosperous. He must be a sage! Why not join together and honor him as a deity, and enshrine him as the master of our altars?" When Gengsangzi heard of this, he faced south, his heart troubled and gloomy. His disciples found this strange.
Gengsangzi said: "Why should you disciples find this strange? When the vital force of spring stirs, the hundred grasses grow; when autumn arrives, the ten thousand treasures ripen. Do spring and autumn come about vacuously? No—it is the Heavenly Way (the natural order) that is already in motion. I have heard that the Ultimate Person (one who has cultivated to the utmost), still as a corpse, dwells in a humble room of but a few feet square, while the people follow their hearts freely, not knowing where they are going. Now the people of this small place, Weilei, are privately discussing whether they should elevate me into the ranks of the worthy. Am I merely some display piece for others to praise? For this, I am uneasy about the teachings of Lao Dan."
The disciples said: "Not so. In ordinary small ditches, great fish cannot turn around, yet loaches move with ease; on mounds of but a few paces high, huge beasts cannot conceal themselves, yet foxes find them excellent places. Moreover, to honor the worthy, employ the able, advocate goodness, and bestow benefits—this has been the way from ancient times when Yao and Shun did it, let alone the people of Weilei! Master, just accept them!"
Gengsangzi said: "Young ones, come here! The great beast that can swallow a carriage, once it leaves the mountain forest, will suffer the calamity of nets; the great fish that can swallow a boat, when washed ashore and deprived of water, even ants can torment it. Thus birds and beasts do not disdain heights, and fish and turtles do not disdain depths. Those who preserve their bodies and nurture their lives conceal themselves, fearing only that they have not gone deep enough! And what of Yao and Shun, those two? What is there to praise in them! Their discrimination of right and wrong is like recklessly chiseling walls to plant weeds, picking through hairs to comb them, counting grains of rice to cook them—how could such nitpicking suffice to save the world? When the worthy are promoted, the people jostle each other; when cleverness is employed, the people deceive one another. These practices are not enough to make the people simple and honest. The people's pursuit of profit is so urgent that sons kill fathers, ministers kill rulers; they rob in broad daylight, and at noon they dig through walls to steal.
I tell you: the root of great disorder is certain to arise in the age of Yao and Shun, and its harmful consequences will remain for a thousand years. After a thousand years, there is sure to be the eating of human flesh by humans."
Nanrong Chu, startled and alarmed, straightened himself and said: "Given that I am already advanced in years, how should I cultivate my person to reach the state you describe?"
Gengsangzi said: "Preserve your body, guard your nature, and do not let your thoughts become entangled in confusion. Persist in this for three years, and you may attain the state I speak of!"
Nanrong Chu said: "As for the form of the eyes, I do not know how they differ from one another, yet the blind cannot see themselves; as for the form of the ears, I do not know how they differ from one another, yet the deaf cannot hear themselves; as for the form of the heart, I do not know how they differ from one another, yet the mad cannot know themselves. Form is originally the same as form, but perhaps external things obstruct them? Seeking to reach each other, they cannot find each other.
Now you say to me: 'Preserve your body, guard your nature, and do not let your thoughts become entangled in confusion.' I force myself to listen, but I feel the principle has only reached my ears!"
Gengsangzi said: "My words have been exhausted. The small clay wasp cannot hatch the great green caterpillar; the Yue chicken cannot hatch a swan's egg, yet the Lu chicken can. Between chicken and chicken, their natures are not different. The difference between able and unable is that their capacities are originally great or small. Now my ability is shallow, insufficient to instruct you. Why not go south to pay homage to Laozi?"
Nanrong Chu shouldered dried provisions and traveled seven days and seven nights to arrive at Laozi's dwelling.
Laozi said: "Have you come from Gengsang Chu?"
Nanrong Chu said: "Yes."
Laozi said: "Why have you come with so many people?" Nanrong Chu, startled, turned to look behind him.
Laozi said: "Do you not understand what I mean?" Nanrong Chu lowered his head in shame, then raised it and sighed, saying: "Now I have forgotten how to reply, and for this reason I have also forgotten what I came to ask."
Laozi said: "What do you mean?"
Nanrong Chu said: "If I do not know, others call me foolish; if I know, it brings suffering to my body and mind. If I am not benevolent, I harm others; if I am benevolent, I bring suffering to myself. If I am not righteous, I harm the other; if I am righteous, I bring suffering to myself. How can I escape this dilemma? These three questions are what I am troubled by. I hope through the introduction of Gengsang Chu to seek your guidance."
Laozi said: "Just now, when I looked at your brow and eyes, I already knew you. Now that you have spoken out, it confirms my judgment even more. You are in a daze, as if you had lost your parents, holding a bamboo pole to fish in the sea. You are a lost one! Bewildered, you want to return to your original nature and disposition but cannot find the entrance—how pitiable you are!"
Nanrong Chu requested to stay and lodge in the guest house, cultivating what he loved and removing what he loathed. For ten days he remained solitary and distressed, and then went again to pay homage to Laozi.
Laozi said: "You have been washing and purifying yourself, yet why are you still so gloomy and despondent! Still, there remains a leaking of malignant thoughts. Those bound externally cannot be captured by complicated methods; they should draw inward. Those bound internally cannot be handled by entanglement; they should direct outward. Those bound both internally and externally cannot even hold to Virtue (the nature endowed by the Way), let alone those who willfully turn their backs on the Way and act!"
Nanrong Chu said: "When a villager is ill, the neighbor goes to inquire. The patient can describe his own illness, but one who can describe his illness is truly not yet gravely ill. My hearing the Great Way (the fundamental principle of all things) is like drinking medicine that aggravates the illness. I only wish to hear enough about the way of nurturing life."
Laozi said: "The way of nurturing life—can you hold to the One (the unified nature of the Way that is not dispersed)? Can you not lose it? Can you know fortune and misfortune without divination? Can you come to rest? Can you let go? Can you seek nothing from others but find it in yourself? Can you roam freely and at ease? Can you be muddled and unknowing? Can you be like an infant? An infant cries all day long yet its throat does not become hoarse—this is the utmost harmony; it clenches its fist all day yet its hand does not grow stiff—this is according to the Virtue of its nature; it stares all day yet its eyes do not blink—this is because its mind is not fixed on external things. Walking, it does not know where it is going; dwelling, it does not know what it is doing; it follows and bends with external things, moving with their waves. This is the way of nurturing life."
Nanrong Chu said: "Then is this the Virtue of the Ultimate Person?"
Laozi said: "No. This is merely what is called ice melting and frost thawing—an initial opening. The so-called Ultimate Person shares food with the earth and shares joy with heaven, does not become entangled with people and things through benefit and harm, does not set up novelties to distinguish himself, does not scheme and calculate among others, does not engage in contrived affairs, departs in freedom, and arrives in muddle. This is the way of nurturing life."
Nanrong Chu said: "Then does this reach the limit?"
Laozi said: "Not yet. I originally told you: 'Can you be like an infant?' An infant moves without knowing what it does, walks without knowing where it is going, its body like the branch of a withered tree, its mind like extinguished ashes. Like this, misfortune will not come, and fortune will not come either. When neither fortune nor misfortune exists, how could there be any man-made calamity!"
When the mind is settled and penetrating, it radiates a natural brilliance. One who radiates natural brilliance—people see him as a genuine person, and things see him as a genuine thing. When one can cultivate oneself, one can endure. One who has enduring cultivation, people are willing to attach themselves to him, and Heaven assists him. Those whom people attach themselves to are called Heaven's People (those who accord with the Way); those whom Heaven assists are called Heaven's Sons (those favored by the Way).
Learning—is it learning what cannot be learned? Walking—is it walking where cannot be walked? Arguing—is it debating what cannot be debated? To know where to stop at what one cannot know—that is the highest! If one does not do this, the natural balance will destroy him. To hold all things to fill the body, to conceal thoughts to nourish the heart, to reverently guard the inner to penetrate the outer. Doing these, if various calamities still come, they are the mandates of Heaven, not of man; they are insufficient to disturb one's inner peace and must not be admitted into the Spiritual Tower (the mind, the seat of one's nature). The Spiritual Tower holds something, yet does not know what it holds—that is the truly unholdable.
To act rashly without seeing the sincerity within one's own heart—every action will not be fitting; external karma invades without being relinquished—every time will bring greater loss. Those who do wrong in broad daylight may be openly condemned by people; those who do wrong in dark concealment may be secretly punished by ghosts. And only when one understands both human affairs and ghostly affairs can one walk alone between heaven and earth. Those whose hearts are aligned act without seeking fame; those who pursue the external have their minds set on coveting wealth. Those who act without seeking fame, though ordinary, possess brilliance; those whose minds are set on coveting wealth are merely merchants. People see them standing on tiptoe and think them tall. Those who are one with all things—all things return to them; those who are estranged from all things—their own selves cannot even contain themselves, so how could they contain others! Those who cannot contain others have no close companions, and those without close companions are severed from others. No weapon is sharper than the will; even the Moye sword is no match for it. No thief is greater than the forces of yin and yang, from which there is no escape anywhere between heaven and earth. It is not yin and yang that harm people, but the human heart that invites it.
The Way permeates the division of all things, and the formation of all things is also their destruction. One hates division because after division one still seeks completeness. Why hate the pursuit of completeness? Because there arises the attachment to completeness. Thus, when one goes out and does not return, one sees ghosts. When one goes out and gains something, this is called gaining death. What is extinguished yet still retains substance belongs to the same category as ghosts. To model the formless Way with one's formed existence—the mind becomes settled!
Birth has no root, entry has no aperture. There is substance yet no place, there is continuity yet no beginning and end. There is issue yet no aperture, yet it truly exists. Substance without place—this is Yu (the infinity of space); continuity without beginning or end—this is Zhou (the infinity of time). There is birth, there is death; there is egress, there is ingress. Egress and ingress without seeing its trace—this is called the Gate of Heaven (the general gateway through which all things issue and enter, i.e., the Way). The Gate of Heaven is Non-Being (the realm of emptiness). All things arise from Non-Being. Being cannot produce being from being; it must arise from Non-Being, and Non-Being itself is nothing at all. The sage hides within this realm.
In ancient times, people's knowledge reached somewhere. Where did it reach? Some held that there had never been any things—this is the highest, the most complete, beyond which nothing can be added! Next came those who held that there were things, regarding birth as a loss and death as a return—this already involved distinction. Next came those who said that in the beginning there was emptiness, then life arose, and life soon died. Taking Non-Being as the head, life as the body, and death as the rump. Whoever knows that being and non-being, life and death, are one—I would befriend him. Though these three kinds of knowledge differ, they belong to one family. The clans of Zhao and Jing were renowned for their lineages; the Jia clan was renowned for its fief—these were not the same thing.
Within life there is something dark and obscure, yet people busily declare "moving the standard" (shifting the criterion of right and wrong). I once spoke of "moving the standard," but this is not something words can fully express. Nevertheless, it must be known. In the wax sacrifice, the ox's stomach and hoof may be separated and yet not separated; those who tour the palace, having seen all the bedchambers and ancestral halls, then go to the latrine. Use this to illustrate "moving the standard." Allow me to try to speak of "moving the standard": taking survival as the root, taking knowledge as the teacher, thereby driving right and wrong. Truly having names and substance, one makes the self the standard, causing others to measure by oneself, even to the point of dying for it. People like this regard being favored as cleverness, being disfavored as foolishness; regard prominence as glory, and distress as disgrace. "Moving the standard" describes the people of today, the same breed as the cicada and the dove-cuckoo congratulating themselves.
If one steps on a market-goer's foot, one apologizes for being too rough; stepping on an elder brother's foot, one offers a word of comfort; stepping on a parent's foot, one says nothing at all. Therefore it is said: the highest ritual does not regard others as outsiders; the highest righteousness does not regard things as external; the highest wisdom does not scheme; the highest benevolence has no partial affection; the highest sincerity does not require gold as a pledge. Dissolve the disorder of the will, untie the error of the mind, remove the burdens of Virtue, and penetrate the blockage of the Way. Wealth, honor, prominence, severity, fame, profit—these six disorder the will; appearance, manner, complexion, reason, breath, intent—these six delude the mind; aversion, desire, joy, anger, grief, pleasure—these six burden Virtue; rejection, attachment, taking, giving, knowledge, ability—these six block the Way. When these four groups of six do not stir within the breast, the heart is set right; when the heart is set right, it is calm; when calm, it is clear; when clear, it is empty; when empty, it is non-action yet nothing is left undone.
The Way is what Virtue venerates; life is the brilliance that Virtue emits; nature is the essence of life. The stirring of nature is called action; when artificial fabrication arises, it is called loss. Knowledge is the contact with external things; knowledge is also the planning of the inner mind. That which the knower does not know is like peeking sideways—one can never see it all. Acting from necessity is called Virtue; acting universally from oneself is called governance. The names seem opposite, but in substance they accord. Hou Yi was skilled at hitting minute targets, yet clumsy at keeping people from praising him; the sage is skilled at according with the Heavenly Way, yet clumsy at dealing with human affairs; one who is both skilled at according with the Heavenly Way and adept at handling human affairs—only the Complete Person (one who has thoroughly penetrated all things) can achieve this. Although insects can live like insects, insects too can accord with the Heavenly Way. The Complete Person dislikes the heavenly, dislikes the artificial heaven, let alone employing one's own standards to measure both heaven and humanity! When a sparrow flies at Hou Yi, Hou Yi is sure to hit it—this is incidental happenstance. If one wields the whole world as a cage, then the sparrow has nowhere to flee. Thus, Shang Tang used the position of a cook to win over Yi Yin, and Duke Mu of Qin used five ram-skins to win over Bai Li Xi. Therefore, to win someone over without using what pleases him is impossible.
Those who have had their feet cut off do not care about adornment, for they have already ceased to care about outward praise or blame. Convicts in servitude ascend to heights without fear, for they have already forgotten life and death. Repeated threats that fail to intimidate them liberate them from human concerns, and having been freed from human concerns, they become Heavenly Persons! Thus, those who do not rejoice when respected and do not grow angry when insulted—only those in harmony with the harmony of heaven and earth can achieve this. When one is angry yet not truly angry, then anger arises from non-anger; when one acts yet from non-action, then action arises from non-action! To desire tranquility, one must calm the vital breath; to desire spirit, one must accord with the mind. To act appropriately, one must act from necessity. Acting from necessity is the Way of the sage.
This chapter begins with the story of Gengsang Chu and unfolds layer by layer the Zhuangzi school's core understanding of non-action (wu wei), nurturing life, and cultivation of the mind-nature.
Layer 1: "Concealing the Self" and "Renouncing Fame." Gengsang Chu dwelled at Weilüi Mountain, governing without deliberate intervention, yet the people prospered. When the people sought to honor him as a sage with offerings, he was disheartened. The crucial point here is: the true cultivator of the Way refuses to be elevated to a pedestal. Once "placed among the worthy for ritual sacrifice," one becomes a display piece for others' admiration, and thus diverges from the Way. This echoes the spirit of "the utmost person has no self, the spiritual person has no merit, the sage has no fame" from Wandering Beyond. What unsettles Gengsang Chu is precisely that very "fame."
Layer 2: "The Art of Nurturing Life"—The Foundation of Cultivating Vitality. Nanrong Chu arrives with the dilemmas of "knowledge and ignorance," "benevolence and non-benevolence," "righteousness and unrighteousness." Laozi's answer is not a set of ethical codes, but a direction: embrace the One, do not lose it, set aside others and seek within oneself, can you become like an infant? The core of nurturing life lies not in seeking external methods, but in returning to the state of an infant—pure, undispersed, not fixated externally. This does not mean becoming childish, but refers to the "utmost harmony" of the mind-nature.
Layer 3: "The Serenity of the Mind" and "The Gate of Heaven." Laozi further explains that when the mind is peaceful and unobstructed, natural radiance spontaneously shines forth. This radiance is not a light cultivated through deliberate practice, but rather the manifestation of inherent nature once obscurations are removed. Moreover, the introduction of the concept of "the Gate of Heaven" connects individual mind-nature cultivation with cosmology—all things arise from non-being, and what the sage conceals himself in is precisely this state of "non-being."
Layer 4: "The Twenty-Four Entanglements." Zhuangzi enumerates four categories of six items each (twenty-four total) that disturb the human mind: wealth, nobility, prominence, prestige, profit, glory; appearance, demeanor, countenance, reason, temperament, intention; aversion, desire, joy, anger, sorrow, delight; departure, approach, taking, giving, knowledge, ability. When these are purged from the bosom, the mind can become upright, tranquil, luminous, and empty, ultimately achieving non-action yet nothing is left undone.
Layer 5: The Wisdom of "Inevitability." The chapter concludes with "matters of inevitability constitute the way of the sage." "Inevitability" is not passive coercion, but rather a state of acting in accordance with natural tendencies after eliminating subjective artifice. This is an extremely refined form of "the action of non-action."
The Anxiety of "Being Enshrined" and Modern Identity Hijacking: Gengsang Chu's refusal to be worshipped as a sage resonates profoundly in the contemporary context. Today's "enshrinement" might be the adulation of social media, the "benchmark" identity in the workplace, or the "perfect role" within the family. Once one accepts such veneration, one becomes locked into that label—you must continue to become what others expect you to be. Gengsang Chu's unease is precisely an alertness to "being alienated into a symbol." In an era where everyone pursues "being seen," Daoism reminds us: true freedom sometimes lies precisely in refusing to be enshrined.
"The Art of Nurturing Life" and Contemporary Mind-Body Care: Nanrong Chu's predicament—anxious with knowledge, anxious without it; troubled in benevolence, troubled in non-benevolence—is essentially the ancient version of modern mental burnout. Laozi's solution is not to provide a definitive answer, but to point toward the "infant state": not fixing one's mind rigidly onto external things, not ruminating repeatedly, not rehearsing anxiety. This deeply echoes contemporary psychology's "mindfulness" and "Acceptance and Commitment Therapy": suffering often arises not from things themselves, but from our "entanglement" with them.
"Shifting Standards" and the Trap of Relativism: Zhuangzi criticizes those who "shift standards"—moving the criterion of "right" back and forth, judging everything from a self-centered perspective. In today's world, this manifests as: everyone fights for discursive power, everyone believes their own set of standards is universally applicable. Zhuangzi says these people are "the same as the cicada and the dove"—on par with the small creatures who mock the great roc. This is not advocating nihilism, but reminding us: when the very standard of "right" warrants scrutiny, true wisdom may lie in "knowing where to stop."
"The Twenty-Four Entanglements" and Mental Simplification in the Information Age: Wealth, nobility, prominence, prestige, profit, glory; appearance, demeanor, countenance, reason, temperament, intention; aversion, desire, joy, anger, sorrow, delight; departure, approach, taking, giving, knowledge, ability—these twenty-four items encompass virtually all the sources of modern anxiety. Social media amplifies the temptation of "fame" and "prominence," consumerism amplifies the desires for "wealth" and "profit," while "departure, approach, taking, giving, knowledge, ability" corresponds to endless "decision fatigue" and "competence anxiety." Zhuangzi's solution is not to repress these, but to "not let them stir the heart within." When the heart is not stirred, it naturally becomes upright, tranquil, luminous, and empty.
Not Clinging to "Usefulness": Gengsang Chu's disciples urged him to accept the people's reverence, arguing that "honoring the worthy and empowering the able" has been the norm since antiquity. But Gengsang Chu saw clearly: once you accept the designation of "usefulness," you become a tool, and tools are ultimately consumed. In the workplace and in interpersonal relationships, learning to maintain "the usefulness of the useless" at appropriate times is a form of self-protection.
The Wisdom of Knowing When to Stop: Laozi states, "Knowing to stop at what one cannot know reaches culmination." Not every problem requires an answer; not every confusion requires resolution. Acknowledging the boundaries of cognition and not forcibly attacking questions beyond those boundaries with discursive thought is itself a kind of liberation.
The Attitude of "Inevitability" in Action: Contemporary people often act with excessive subjective will—"I absolutely must achieve this." Zhuangzi says, "For action to be appropriate, it must arise from inevitability," meaning: for action to be proper, it should appear as the natural result of no alternative. This can be understood as: reducing the attachment to "I want," and increasing sensitivity to "what the situation itself requires."
The Daily Practice of "Not Stirring Within": When emotions arise, do not react hastily nor forcibly suppress them, but simply notice them "arriving," then allow them to "pass." The "not stirring" Zhuangzi speaks of does not mean having no waves, but rather not letting the waves churn the entire ocean.
"Non-Being" as Ontological Ground and the Openness of "The Gate of Heaven": Zhuangzi states, "All things emerge from non-being. Being cannot be established through being; it must arise from non-being." This aligns with Dao De Jing, chapter 40—"All things under heaven are born of being; being is born of non-being"—but Zhuangzi goes further: "Within non-being, there is no non-being"—even non-being itself is nothing. This thoroughgoing negative thinking is not intended to establish nihilism, but to dissolve all reified ontological attachments. The image of "the Gate of Heaven" is particularly worthy of contemplation: it is both entrance and exit, both formless and real. There is no visible trace in its comings and goings—this means that the "Way" is not a "thing" that can be located or grasped, but an "event" that remains perpetually open.
"Shifting Standards" and the Situatedness of Truth: Zhuangzi's theory of "shifting standards" touches on a profound philosophical question: does the standard of truth genuinely possess a stable foundation? His answer seems to be: any standard predicated on the "self" as reference and supported by "name and actuality" is inevitably situated and relative. Yet this does not lead to a shallow relativism of "anything goes," but rather to ongoing reflection on "the standard itself." This echoes "perspectivism" in contemporary philosophy: we always perceive the world from a particular perspective, but perspective itself can be examined and shifted.
The Paradox of "The Complete Person Repudiates Heaven": Zhuangzi says, "The complete person repudiates heaven, repudiates the human-made concept of heaven." The complete person is averse even to the concept of "heaven," let alone the humanly constructed notion of it. This represents a radical distrust of anything reified or conceptualized. The true "completeness" perhaps lies precisely in not clinging to the concept of "completeness" itself. This is an extreme, meta-level reflectiveness: even the word "Way" is merely a finger pointing at the moon, not the moon itself.
The Relationship Between "Inevitability" and Freedom: On the surface, "inevitability" seems to imply unfreedom. Yet Zhuangzi defines it as "the way of the sage." The logic here is: when action stems from the coercion of subjective will, the actor is enslaved by their own desires and fixations; when action stems from "inevitability"—driven by the inherent logic and natural tendency of things—the actor gains freedom in union with the Way. This is a "freedom within unfreedom," a profound challenge to the concept of "free will."
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This content is based on classical Daoist texts and is provided exclusively for traditional cultural study and personal life reference. It does not constitute religious, medical, or investment advice.