Yang Xin, styled Jingyuan, is from Nancheng, located at the foot of Mount Tai. His great-grandfather served as the Xuzhou governor during the Jin Dynasty, his grandfather was a Yellow Gate Attendant, and his father was the Prefect of Guiyang. Yang Xin has been known for his quiet and steady character since childhood, who did not compete with others, spoke gently, and behaved elegantly. He read widely, particularly excelling in clerical script. When his father was first appointed magistrate of Wucheng County, Yang Xin was only twelve years old, and the Prefect of Wuxing, Wang Xianzhi, took a great liking to him. One summer, when Wang Xianzhi came to the county, Yang Xin was napping in a newly made silk skirt. Wang Xianzhi even inscribed several characters on his skirt before departing. Although Yang Xin was already skilled in calligraphy, this incident further enhanced his abilities. Later, he served as an aide to the military, and after his term ended, he returned to his hometown. During the Long'an period of the Eastern Jin Dynasty, as the court began to fall into chaos, Yang Xin chose to live a leisurely life at home, no longer pursuing official positions. The Crown Prince of Kuaiji, Yuan Xian, frequently requested him to write, but Yang Xin consistently declined these requests. Yuan Xian, frustrated by his refusals, appointed him as the Attendant of the Rear Army Office. This role was typically filled by individuals from humble backgrounds, yet Yang Xin remained composed, showing no change in demeanor regardless of the official rank, earning the admiration of his contemporaries. Once, when Yang Xin went to visit the General Leading the Troops, Xie Hun, Xie Hun even swept aside the seating arrangement and changed his attire before receiving him. Xie Hun's son, Xie Lingyun, was also present and told his brother Xie Zhan after returning, "After encountering Yang Xin, I hurriedly changed my clothes and rearranged the seating." As a result, Yang Xin's reputation grew even more.
Huan Xuan served as the General Who Pacifies the West, appointed Yang Xin as an aide to the General Who Pacifies the West, and later promoted him to Chief Clerk, entrusting him with confidential matters. Yang Xin sought to resign voluntarily, which led to the leakage of certain confidential information. Huan Xuan noticed his intentions and instead chose to promote him further, appointing him as a Palace Attendant in the Chu Tai Hall. Huan Xuan remarked to him, "The Minister of Works oversees state affairs, which is the foundation of the country; the Palace is responsible for rites and music, which is the foundation of the country. When you previously served in the court, it was akin to working in a core department. Now, this position is actually more relaxed for you." Shortly after taking office, Yang Xin resigned citing illness, withdrew to his hometown, and did not return to office for over ten years.
During the Yixi era, Yang Xin's younger brother Yang Hui caught the attention of Emperor Gaozu. Emperor Gaozu said of the Consultant to the Army, Zheng Xianzhi, "Yang Hui is a talented individual, but public opinion of him does not match that of his brother. It's a pity I didn't know him before." Thus, Emperor Gaozu appointed Yang Xin as the Chief of Staff to General Liu Fan, and later promoted him to Chief Historian, and then appointed him as the Consultant to the Army of the General of the Central Army, Dao Lian. He was later sent as the new An Prefect. He served as Prefect of Xin'an County for four years, earning a reputation for his integrity and benevolence. Later, the court appointed him as Chief Historian to Prince Linchuan Yiqing, as well as the Cavalry Consultant of Prince Luling Yizhen, but he declined the offers. Emperor Taizu valued him highly, appointing him as the Prefect of Xin'an again, serving as Prefect of Xin'an County for a total of thirteen years. He enjoyed exploring the mountains and rivers, living a joyful life that suited his character. He was later transferred to Yixing County, but he found it unappealing. Not long after, he claimed to be gravely ill, resigned from office, and returned home. Finally, the court later appointed him as a Grand Master of the Palace Attendants.
He typically adheres to the teachings of Huang Lao, often copying scriptures by himself, refusing to take medicine when ill, opting instead for talisman water. He is also proficient in medicine and wrote ten volumes of "Prescriptions." He is a man of high integrity, who refuses to bow down in worship; both Gaozu and Taizu regretted not having met him. He rarely goes out unless visiting close relatives, and when he does go out, he always walks outside the city walls, never passing through any of the six city gates. In the nineteenth year of the Yuanjia era, he passed away at the age of seventy-three. His son Jun died early.
His younger brother Hui, whose courtesy name was Jingyou, received high praise from the people. When Gaozu was stationed in Jingkou, he appointed him as a military secretary responsible for managing affairs. Eight years later, he was promoted to a Lang in the Ministry of Personnel, serving in the Western Province. He later served as the Chief Historian of the Western Central Army and as the Prefect of Hedong under Taizu. His son Zhan served as the Chief Historian of the Southern Central Army and the Prefect of Xunyang in the late years of Yuanjia, dying in office.
Zhang Fu, whose courtesy name was Jingyin, hailed from Wu County and was the son of Shao Zi, the Prefect of Wuxing. His mother passed away shortly after his birth. When he was just a few years old, he asked his family about his mother’s whereabouts, and they told him the difference between life and death. Though still a child, a look of longing crossed Zhang Fu's face. When he was in his teens, he wanted to find his mother's belongings, but they had all been given away, so he only found a painted fan, which he treasured. Whenever he thought of his mother, he would open the box and weep. He always felt sadness and would choke up whenever he saw his stepmother. He was upright and noble, exuding an elegant demeanor, with a passion for reading metaphysical texts, and skilled in writing and commentary, earning considerable fame at a young age. Gaozu took a great liking to him and appointed him as the Military Secretary to the Crown Prince, often summoning him. In the early years of Yongchu, he was promoted to the position of Gentleman of the Palace Secretariat.
Once, while on duty in the province, Fu Liang, the Minister of Personnel, held significant power. Upon hearing that Zhang Fu was a keen learner, he went to visit him; Zhang Fu was lying in bed and did not rise, so Fu Liang, puzzled, decided to leave. After his father, Shao Zi, became the governor of Xiangzhou, he resigned from his official duties to serve him. Taizu appointed him as a Colonel in the Western Army. In the early years of the Yuanjia era, he was appointed as an Assistant Cavalier Attendant and Secretary. When Prince Yigong of Jiangxia was stationed in Jiangling, he appointed him as a military aide, and later promoted him to a secretary. At that time, Yigong requested a learned monk from Taizu, and when the monk came to visit, he asked him to leave. Zhang Fu happened to be on vacation and returned to Jiangling. Taizu said to the monk, "Zhang Fu is returning to the west; you can let him take you along." When Zhang Fu said goodbye, the emperor said to him, "The military aide needs a learned monk. You can let him sit in the back of the cabin and talk to him on the way." Zhang Fu declined, stating, "I cannot endure such a chaotic environment." The emperor was very unhappy.
Zhang Fu was promoted to a full officer. The Minister of Personnel, Di Dang, and Zhou Jiu went to visit the renowned scholar, Mr. Fu. Zhou Jiu said, "If we aren’t welcomed, why bother?" Di Dang said, "We are both Assistant Cavalier Attendants now; what do we have to worry about not being able to sit together?" Mr. Fu initially arranged two beds, three or four feet away from the wall, and the two guests sat down and chatted happily. After a while, Mr. Fu asked his attendants to move his bed further away. Zhou Jiu and the others looked taken aback and left. This was Mr. Fu's way of treating others. He had a pleasant voice, and his speech was measured, and when saying goodbye, he would hold the other person's hand and say, "Hope we can meet again." The echo of his words lingered long after he had gone. The descendants of the Zhang family continue to hold him in high regard to this day, all thanks to Mr. Fu.
Zhang Fu was promoted to the position of Minister of the Interior and later served as the Chief Historian of the Rear Army under Wang Jun of Shixing and the Chief Historian of the Ministry of Works. Before officially taking office, his father passed away in Wuxing. Upon receiving news of his father's critical condition, Zhang Fu immediately rushed back and traveled from the capital to Wuxing to handle his father's funeral. For over ten days, he neither ate nor drank. After the funeral, he stopped eating salty food and ended up falling ill. His stepfather Maodu tried to console him multiple times, but each time he became even more heartbroken, fainting and coming to in tears. Maodu said, "I wanted to comfort you, but instead I made you feel worse." From then on, Maodu stopped trying to console him. Not long after, Zhang Fu passed away at the age of forty-one.
A man from Langye, Yan Yanzhi, wrote a letter of condolence to Maodu, saying, "From a young age, your virtuous nephew followed the right path and as he grew older, he upheld great righteousness and integrity, displaying innate character. Since you first met, you forged a friendship; though circumstances prevented you from meeting later on, your mutual affection never wavered. I thought he was in the prime of his life and would find solace, but unexpectedly he passed away in middle age. Upon hearing this news, I am deeply saddened. Your strict upbringing and noble family values have now suffered the loss of a beloved son, which is truly heartbreaking." It is evident how respected Zhang Fu was during his lifetime. After Emperor Sizhu ascended to the throne, he issued a decree saying, "The late Chief Historian of the Ministry of Works, Zhang Fu, was of upright character, honest by nature, and well-mannered from a young age. During the mourning period for his father, he displayed extreme grief and filial piety, and should be posthumously honored for his filial devotion, conferring upon him the position of Shizhong." As a result, the place where Zhang Fu resided was renamed "Xiaozhangli." Zhang Fu did not have any sons.
Wang Wei, courtesy name Jingxuan, was a native of Linyi in Langya and a disciple of Wang Hong, the Grand Tutor. His father, Wang Ru, had served as Grand Master of Ceremonies. Wang Wei loved studying from a young age, having read extensively, skilled in writing, calligraphy, painting, as well as knowledgeable in music, medicine, and the Five Elements. At the age of sixteen, he was recommended as a Xiucai by the local government, and Wang Yiji of Hengyang even invited him to serve as a military officer, but he declined both offers. He was later appointed as the Libationer of the Ministry of Works, promoted to the position of registrar, and then served as a military officer in the rear guard of Wang Jun of Shixing, the Prince's Aide, and finally became an aide to Wang Jun of Shixing. After his father's death, he resigned from his official position to observe a mourning period at home. After the mourning period ended, the court appointed him as a military advisor to Prince Wang Shuo, the Prince of Nanping. Wang Wei never liked being an official, so he pretended to be ill to turn down the appointments. Later, the court appointed him as the Deputy Minister of the Imperial Secretariat and intended to appoint him as the Governor of Nanlangye and Yixing, all of which he refused. The Minister of Personnel, Jiang Zhan, wanted to promote Wang Wei to be a secretary of the Ministry of Personnel, but Wang Wei wrote a letter to him: "Brother, my health is very poor; this is not just a simple illness; everyone in the court knows this very well. Your sudden invitation is seen as strange by the neighbors; they think it is an ominous sign. You are well-informed; you should know that the will of Heaven is fickle. I am the laughingstock of everyone, like a bald sparrow in a swallow's nest. Do you really not know how to explain this to future historians?"
Although the court is peaceful and prosperous now, there may be talented individuals with outstanding abilities who are being overlooked. The court wants to find those hidden treasures, like looking for a needle in a haystack, whether it be near the sorcerer's shrine or in the cow and horse stables, just like searching for Meng Changjun among gamblers or Bu Shi among shepherds. Of course, there are also loyal ministers from the Western Rong and recluses from the Eastern Capital, who are well-versed in astronomy and geography and skilled in various arts; there must be many such people in the world. Furthermore, serving in the Chengming Hall and working at the Jinma Gate are very important positions, far more prestigious than managing warehouses. Why force someone like me, who is in poor health and feels ashamed, to take office? Are you trying to run the country and make things worse? The "Book of Documents" states that "officials should be chosen for their merit," yet you promote those with physical ailments, which seems off, doesn’t it?
Moreover, I haven't seen my siblings for over ten years. When my sister occasionally comes back, I can't even let her take a carriage into the palace, and my brother guards the Golden City; I can't even support him for a short distance. If I were healthy, wouldn’t that be odd? You always say I'm hypocritical, but you don’t need to scrutinize me with a magnifying glass.
The old saying goes that someone like me, if I were to encounter someone like Zhou Taigong, would probably have been beheaded; fortunately, I met Guan Shu and was able to lead a humble life as a scholar. Emperor Guangwu regarded Feng Yan as lacking depth in talent, so he didn't value him. Zhuge Liang once said, "In terms of governance, he is inferior to Kong Rong." How could I, without the talents of those ancient luminaries, dare to defy the laws of the Zhou and Han dynasties? Can those mediocre talents truly reflect the quality of governance? Perhaps if you encounter such a situation, you too may find yourself sidelined, and you will have to raise your status by feigning ignorance of lesser-known individuals, wanting to compare yourself with people like Wei Ci. You aspire to the nobility of Shantao, but can only be as obscure as Zhongrong, merely occupied with tedious formalities, never thinking about participating in officialdom. Those vulgar people look down on me, so of course I won't flatter them. I can't predict what your future holds. If you don't learn from the ancients, disturb the government, use false appearances to conceal inner emptiness, and try to succeed in this way, it's like using earthworms to summon dragons. If you continue to be hypocritical, you shouldn't expect to leave a good reputation in the capital, as this will corrupt customs. You shouldn't expect others to be like you. If you make friends solely for personal gain rather than out of duty, then doing business is even more intolerable for you. Do you think that scoundrels can easily rise in rank, or that greedy people are easily bought? You likely belong to one of these categories. Even if you are as eloquent as Qi Pian, as good at speaking falsehoods as the sorcerers of the late Zhou dynasty, as brilliant in writing as Gong Sunlong, as unrestrained as Zhuangzi, you will still struggle to convey your true thoughts. After you die, your soul will surely wander far away; talented individuals from Runan and Yingchuan will turn their backs on the court. When the trend of extravagance takes hold, customs will deteriorate.
Guiguzi, the ancient philosopher, said that reading people's minds is the most difficult: how can you make such a hasty judgment?
I wrote this book not to compare myself to Cao Zhi. I can't be that insincere. I simply want to express my true feelings, not chase after fame and fortune. Since childhood, I would visit relatives and friends in the mornings and socialize in the evenings. How can I completely cut ties with my nephews? Nonetheless, all my lifelong wishes are conveyed in this book. Lord Jun Ping once said, "The one who named me has done me harm." If even the titles given by the Heavenly Emperor can be abolished, why should I worry about official titles? My behavior may be vulgar, my actions may not conform to norms; not only do the literati look down on me, but even servants and maids will ridicule me. I feel constantly down; I know my time is short, and I just want future generations to know that I am sincere.
I used to work for the Wang family in Shixing. Wang Jun often visited me to offer comfort. Every time I wrote back to him, I would carefully refine my words. My writing style tends to be somewhat old-fashioned, and I enjoy emphasizing and embellishing. When Yuan Shu read my letters, she thought I was complaining. Because of this, I decided to write to my brother, Sengchuo:
Alas, even though I am not appreciated by many, if I had known that your brother was such a kindred spirit, every time we drink and chat, I always talk about being content and happy. Moreover, being cautious and humble has always been the tradition of our family, so how did we end up like this? Am I just being naive? Why haven't I heard any rumors at all? Maybe it's because I don't know myself. There are plenty of descendants from prestigious families like me; my talents are nothing special—it's just that I don't flatter or scheme, so everyone tolerates me. As for the trivial rules, it's hard to explain. My illness is getting worse day by day, and I am becoming more indulgent. I've given up on the things that matter in dealing with others. Fortunately, now is an era of enlightenment; the emperor is so tolerant that he lets me off the hook, and because of past favors, he always shows me leniency. I feel like I'm barely hanging on with this illness getting worse, and I have long given up on the well-being of the people. So, I just drift through life, have simple meals, and feel content with a peaceful sleep at night. My health is deteriorating day by day; I often eat jujube porridge to regulate my body—haven't you noticed? Now that I am so ill, I only care about myself; I have not tarnished social morality, nor have I lost face for our family. I just live aimlessly, waiting for the inevitable. These are all facts. I'm writing to you, so let's not kid ourselves about this! I just can't wrap my head around Zhou Ling's recent actions; I've pondered repeatedly, but still do not understand. Did he read the letters I wrote recently? It's ridiculous!
When I was young, I studied writing, but it was only in my later years that I made some progress. Those officials, in their efforts to prevent the common people from erring, always emphasize and modify the decrees, socialize with high-ranking officials, always acting with utmost respect. Furthermore, if an article lacks emotions like resentment, joy, anger, and sorrow, it will be dull and uninteresting to read. I enjoy reading ancient texts because I believe that connecting various things together can reflect the value of the article, and reading more makes me feel like there are many meanings within. Those who only care about immediate benefits and do not pursue ideal aspirations are rejected by the lofty, which essentially amounts to indirect complaining and lamenting. You really are too honest and naive! Many people come to visit me daily, and my courtyard is bustling, so I don't need to flatter anyone. These people say that it is a matter of circumstance, but that's not quite true. I do not want to stay in this place; there's no inherent right or wrong in anything, but the Lu state objects appear crude in the Qi state. As a scholar, I should indeed be serving in the court. With so many officials in the three provinces and six ministries, who really stays true to their words and actions? If someone suspects my involvement, what would they think of me? At this rate, even if I live to a hundred, I’ll still be wasting my best years!
"The river only blows strongly past me, the clouds are the caves of men." I am a recluse in the mountains and forests; the character of a hermit is noble. If I could reach that level, it would be like a chicken and duck transforming into a phoenix. Why bother embellishing my integrity? My conduct will naturally be reflected in my words and actions. Unfortunately, my ears are too big (meaning overly sensitive). The other people in my family have been tainted by some worldly selfishness; it's not easy to talk about these things, so I often remain silent. Especially my brothers, they make me feel guilty; they often trouble the two coastal county governors, humbly and cautiously advancing, while I sit comfortably in my hometown and eventually become a Gentleman of the Palace, which is more than enough for me.
You conveyed the court's grace to me, my younger brother. Even Emperor Yu, known for his generosity and kindness, and King Xuan of Zhou, who was compassionate to the widowed and orphaned, cannot compare to this kindness! Everything I've said is based on the truth, with no exaggeration. I don't flatter or deceive, which is why my hair hasn't turned white, nor have I learned those deceitful methods. Besides, what can I do? I can't walk and can't leave the house; my head is sensitive to the wind, and I can't be assisted to go out. Our family is originally poor, only able to afford simple clothing and meals. Even if a bandit came here, they wouldn't find anything valuable, let alone any treasures. Even if the court really has such measures in selecting officials, it would not harm me substantially. I'm just being cautious because I'm afraid of gossip. Even wise men like Guan Zhong can be discerned by Duke Huan of Qi, which is not an easy task. Local officials say they have sharp eyes and ears, yet they still try to flatter me; how do I explain this to those talented folks? Those extraordinary people often hide themselves, associating with commoners, making it difficult even for a sage like King Fang Xun to discover them, let alone someone like Lin Zong. I don't want to flatter or overly embellish my letters. I live near a busy area, with relatives all over the city, and I honestly don't know if people like Yuan Yangyuan can sort this out. Hypocrisy and honesty have nothing to do with me, so why should I care? You should talk to those wise men and let them know these words come from me, your older brother.
I’ve been looking forward to your visit every day, but I’ve been ill and haven’t been able to get out of bed. I wanted to write a letter to you, but my heart is wrapped in coarse cloth, with no one to confide in. I can only wait until we meet in person to explain everything in detail. Finishing this letter makes me feel like I’ve met you already. I don’t like to put in too much effort, so I don’t have much to say. I’m not really cut out for politics, and even if we meet, I wouldn’t be able to get through all of this. It’s better to read this letter instead. Feel free to show it to any relatives or friends who want to read it; there’s no need to rush to deliver it to me.
I’ve heard some people say that I’ve been recommended, and He Yan from Lujiang participated in this decision. They are worried that I will blame him for this, so they wrote to explain to me. I replied:
You praised me before in Yixing County, and I’ve always seen it as your appreciation of me. But I often feel I’m too crude and uncivilized, unable to fit into refined circles, and not having a friend familiar with government affairs. Why should you want to know me specifically? I recently heard that He Chuo delivered my letter to you; although I know this is all in good fun, I also know that you probably won’t sympathize with me. If there’s no sympathy, then what is there to hope for?
My friend, you’re eloquent and elegant, truly the epitome of a gentleman! As for me, I’m just an ordinary person, with aspirations similar to those of Wang Dao and Le Guang—nothing special. I was particularly stupid when I was young, unable to grasp even the simplest texts from my teacher, and I stuttered, unable to read smoothly, so I simply gave up studying. It wasn’t until I was around twenty years old that I started reading some novels. When guests at home saw a few books on my bedside, they said I loved studying and wanted to test me, but I didn’t really know much. Ah, it’s really just a way to fool people! I’m not as good as Yang Xiong in literary talent, and I don’t think poetry is really what a gentleman should be doing, let alone calligraphy; I’m far from that too! Perhaps you and my friends see me this way. Some people say my articles are profound, very individualistic, and look down on the mundane, but I dare not say so. So every time I see the writings, poems, and literary discussions of the world, I can’t tell right from wrong. I quickly ask for help with things I don’t get; that’s just my nature.
I have enjoyed traditional Chinese medicine since I was a child. I have been frail and sickly since I was twelve. The prescriptions I wrote were all simple. Since then, I have believed that it is important to regulate the body, so I often consume Dwarf Lilyturf, Asparagus Root, and Atractylodes, adjusting according to the season. I balance the body's cold and heat, hoping to strengthen my health and live a long life. My family is poor, and there are many things to do. In spring and autumn, I often take a couple of students into the wild to gather herbs. In fact, I dislike going to the clinic to see a doctor. I have a better understanding of pharmacology and especially believe in the "Compendium of Materia Medica." I want the prescriptions to be truly effective, so I personally collect herbs, aiming for the quality of the medicinal materials. People say that I pursue the Taoist way, that I am eccentric, unrestrained, and do not follow the rules, and many even scold me! I also enjoy painting, which I suppose is a kind of talent. I have many ideas in my mind, and then I draw them down. So I also like landscape painting, sketching everywhere, mostly from observation. I don't like visiting others; I tend to steer clear of powerful people. I keep a low profile in my interactions, always afraid that I am not good enough, and I dare not force myself to do things beyond my ability. These are probably my circumstances. Several wise friends, however, have exaggerated my flaws and written articles about them that have circulated. My humble words can't compare to wise advice!
Ah, in recent years my old ailment has flared up again; I've been feeling unwell and miserable, thinking this is how my life will remain. I never expected you all to care for me like this; I am truly surprised and honored! I have been quite ill, lying in bed for a long time, before deciding to write something in response to you all. Thank you for the blessings, for not letting me pass away too soon, and thank you to all the kind-hearted people, especially you for speaking up first and turning everyone's concern into an article. This is such a profound kindness, I hardly know how to accept it! Your thoughtfulness truly surprises me. I am truly grateful for your kindness. When you heard that I was sick, you were very scared; it even startled everyone in the court. I was waiting for visitors to come, but when this illness struck, I became so confused, and when I heard your news, I frightened myself. These past five or six days, my chest has been hurting badly, feeling like my throat is swollen; I scared myself. It took a lot of effort for me to write this reply; the sentences might not flow well, so please forgive me. I mainly want to express my gratitude; I don't want to say anything else. If you don't understand, feel free to leave; let's just treat it as a joke.
I usually stay in a small room at the gatehouse, reading books and playing with antiques; I've been living like this for over ten years. The Emperor Taizu gave me the name "Shi" because I was good at divination. My brother, Monk Qian, was also very talented; he served as an attendant to the crown prince, but sadly passed away because of improper medication. I feel a great deal of guilt over this, and it made me ill; I've been grieving endlessly over Monk Qian's passing. I wrote a letter to mourn him:
My younger brother, you moved out at fifteen. Though you never gained much fame, you immersed yourself in reading, enjoyed listening to the qin, and had an exceptional memory. You studied classical literature, carefully read the Records of the Grand Historian, and had already made significant progress by the time the seasons turned. When I was sick, whenever I felt a little better, I would often quote things you had said before, feeling like you were an old scholar. You accumulated knowledge day by day, and your reputation grew; you were about to realize your ambitions and inherit the legacy of the wise ones before you, but unexpectedly passed away, the immense pain twisting my heart like a knife.
Thinking back on the ten years we lived together, apart from official business, we were hardly ever apart. Even in our letter exchanges, we would recite and read them together; any piece of writing, we would carefully discuss and appreciate. We often drowned our sorrows in drink, with books as our companions. The reason I could be poor without worry was all because of this! But now, I feel trapped, sitting alone in my solitude. Remembering our walks together, I cry out loud, worrying about you day and night, always concerned about your health; never did I expect you would suddenly pass away before me. Repeatedly recalling, we will never have the chance to meet again, your appearance and laughter, every detail, vividly clear in my mind. Younger brother, where are you now? This fills me with unbearable grief.
I used to be an official in the capital, now sixty years old, and on three occasions, you thought I wouldn't come today; you always worried about me, nothing compares to this bond. I was planning to retire to the countryside with you, to enjoy our old age, but you faced such misfortune and died so tragically; this fills me with deep anger! I have always been skilled in medicine, but I was unable to save you, and I didn't carefully consider your illness, leading to your misfortune. Thinking of this only deepens my grief! This cursed fate! My sins!
You are filial, devotedly serving your parents, respectful and obedient to your elder brother, and you never scold the servants. You are a true gentleman, navigating relationships and situations with finesse. You are gentle and wise, distinguishing right from wrong, always acting appropriately. I often turn to you for guidance. You often say, "Brother, your writings are full of character; you can take pride in your eloquence and charm. But you are too upright and strong-willed; you should be more gentle." I remember these words clearly, but we will never see each other again; how can I not be sad! Only the ten letters you left behind are still intact; every time I see them, my longing for you grows stronger. When you heard I was sick, you must have been heartbroken, worried that my passing would cause you trouble, but you ended up taking care of my funeral arrangements! You once believed, "Even if a woman is childless, she should not remarry. If this custom prevails, every household will have a filial daughter-in-law." Zhong Changtong's "Changyan" also expresses the same idea. Liu Xinfu swore never to remarry after being punished, determined to serve her parents-in-law; Lady Yin honored her husband's chastity, not going against his wishes. The wives of Pushe and Lady Fan, who believed in filial piety and were well-mannered, found suitable partners. But what good does it do? My sadness still cannot be alleviated; this merely serves to comfort those who remain.
I, a person gravely ill, have had lifelong aspirations, which your younger brother knows. I sit by the window all day; what happiness can there be? It's all thanks to your younger brother! If you haven't come by noon, I've already started to despair. Now I don't even know how to go on living, feeling dazed and heavy, as if I'm not even human. My body is in such pain and discomfort; I lack the strength even to carve inscriptions. If my soul is aware and cannot receive my writings, wouldn't that be a lifelong regret? If my thoughts cannot be realized, I'd regret it like a madman, with no one to confide in. I hastily wrote these few pages; the sentences are jumbled, just briefly explaining my situation, many things are left unsaid. Ah Qian! How did it come to this? Who else will come to see me, who else will worry about me? I used to cherish time, restrain my preferences to pray for longevity; now I just want to die soon. How much longer can I hold on? I have no idea what the future holds. Your younger brother has been collecting my poems and essays, but hasn't had the chance to organize them for publication, wanting to compile my works into a collection, not knowing when this will be completed. I've already put on my mourning clothes, and before I die, I want to have a drink of my homemade wine with you. Will you come by when you can? It's so unfair! So unfair!
In the 30th year of Yuanjia, I passed away at thirty-nine. Monk Qian passed away forty days after I did. I left a will requesting a simple burial, without any pomp or circumstance, just a five-foot-long bed, with the coffin resting for two nights before cremation. I placed the zither I usually play on the spirit bed, and when He Changshi arrived, I gave him the zither. This He Changshi refers to He Yan. I have no sons. My family honored my will and took care of the funeral arrangements. My writings were compiled and shared with the world. After the Emperor ascended the throne, he issued a decree: "Yuan Shu had steadfast aspirations, noble virtues, and lived a life of integrity and frugality, enough to bring honor to the village and improve customs. Sadly, he passed away at a young age, and I feel a deep sorrow. He was posthumously awarded the title of Secretariat Supervisor."
In the historical records, it is said that the Prince of Yan made Mr. Tian so furious that he died from anger; a warning from the magistrate of Anyi prompted Min Zhongshu to leave angrily for Pei County. All of this is because they were upright and noble in their hearts, with an unyielding sense of integrity. Yuan Shu died unexpectedly, while Wang Wei composed numerous memorials, perhaps because those who craved empty fame desired their reputation to be as pure and flawless as jade, untouched by even a hint of blemish.
