✉️ Song People's Collection

The Ultimate Theory of Reward and Punishment Based on Loyalty and Generosity Su Shi During the times of Emperors Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, Wen, Wu, Cheng, and Kang, how deeply they loved their people, how earnestly they worried for them, treating all under heaven with the manner of gentlemen and elders. When someone did good, they rewarded them, then praised and celebrated them encouraging their beginnings and motivating their continued effort. When someone did wrong, they punished them, then showed compassion and helped them reform letting go of past errors and opening the way for renewal. Thus, their expressions of approval and disapproval, joy and sorrow, pleasure and grief, are recorded in the books of Yu, Xia, Shang, and Zhou. After Cheng and Kang passed away, King Mu ascended the throne, and the Zhou way began to decline. Yet he still instructed his minister, Marquis Lyu, about auspicious punishments. His words were concerned but not harmful, stern but not angry, loving yet decisive, showing compassion and sympathy for the innocent. Therefore, Confucius still found merit in them. The tradition states: "When in doubt about rewards, err on the side of giving them, to extend kindness; when in doubt about punishments, err on the side of withholding them, to be cautious with penalties." In Yao's time, Gao Yao served as the judicial officer. When considering executing someone, Gao Yao would recommend execution three times, while Yao would grant pardon three times. Thus the people feared Gao Yao's firm enforcement of the law, but delighted in Yao's leniency in applying punishments. The Four Peaks officials recommended employing Gun, but Yao objected, saying Gun was condemned to clan extermination, but later said, "Let's give him a try." Why did Yao not listen to Gao Yao's call for execution, but followed the Four Peaks' recommendation to employ Gun? The sage's intention is clear here. The Book states: "When guilt is uncertain, impose lighter punishments; when merit is uncertain, give greater rewards. Better to spare the guilty than to punish the innocent." Ah, this expresses it perfectly! When something deserves reward but could go unrewarded, rewarding shows excessive benevolence. When something deserves punishment but could go unpunished, punishing shows excessive righteousness. Excess in benevolence still preserves one's status as a gentleman; excess in righteousness can deteriorate into cruelty. Therefore, benevolence may be excessive, but righteousness should not be. In ancient times, rewards weren't limited to ranks and salaries, and punishments weren't confined to physical torture. Rewarding with ranks and salaries means the way of reward only applies where ranks and salaries reach, not where they don't. Punishing with physical torture means the power of punishment only extends where torture reaches, not where it doesn't. The ancient kings knew the good in the world was too abundant to be fully rewarded, and ranks and salaries insufficient to encourage it; they knew the evil in the world was too extensive to be fully punished, and physical torture insufficient to control it. Therefore, in cases of doubt, they favored benevolence, treating all under heaven as gentlemen and elders would, encouraging people to follow the way of gentlemen and elders. This is the ultimate expression of loyalty and generosity. The Book of Poetry says: "When the gentleman is pleased, disorder will soon end; when the gentleman is angry, disorder will soon be suppressed." How does a gentleman quell disorder? By timing his pleasure and anger appropriately, never departing from benevolence. The principle of the Spring and Autumn Annals is to establish strict laws while judging people leniently. Basing rewards and punishments on its standards of praise and criticism is also the ultimate expression of loyalty and generosity.

Record of the Pavilion of the Drunken Old Man Ouyang Xiu Mountains encircle Chuzhou. The peaks to the southwest, with their particularly beautiful forests and valleys, appearing lush and profoundly elegant when viewed from afar this is Mount Langya. Walking six or seven li into the mountains, one gradually hears water gurgling and flowing out between two peaks this is Brewing Spring. Where the peaks curve and the path winds, a pavilion stands majestically overlooking the spring this is the Old Drunkard's Pavilion. Who built this pavilion? The mountain monk Zhixian. Who named it? The prefect named it after himself. When the prefect came with guests to drink here, he would get drunk after just a few cups, and being the eldest among them, he called himself the "Old Drunkard." The Old Drunkard's interest was not in the wine, but in the mountains and waters. The joy of mountains and waters was captured in his heart and expressed through wine. As the sun rises and the forest mist clears, as clouds return and cliff caves darken these changing patterns of light and shadow mark morning and evening in the mountains. Wild flowers blooming with subtle fragrance, fine trees flourishing with dense shade, wind and frost pure and lofty, water receding to reveal stones these are the four seasons in the mountains. Going forth at dawn and returning at dusk, the scenery changes with the four seasons, and the pleasure is endless. The porters singing on the road, travelers resting under trees, those ahead calling out, those behind responding, the elderly and children supporting each other, coming and going without end these are the people of Chuzhou at leisure. Fishing by the stream where the water runs deep and fish grow fat; brewing wine from the spring where the water is fragrant and the wine is clear; mountain delicacies and wild vegetables arranged in abundance this is the prefect's feast. The joy of the banquet requires neither string nor wind instruments; archers hit their targets, chess players win their games, cups and chopsticks intermingling, people rising and sitting amid cheerful clamor these are the guests enjoying themselves. With gray face and white hair, relaxed amidst it all this is the prefect in his drunkenness. Soon the evening sun rests on the mountains, people's shadows scatter in disarray, the prefect leaves and guests follow. Tree shadows deepen, bird calls echo up and down as the visitors depart, the birds and beasts celebrate. Yet birds and beasts know the joy of forests and mountains, but not human joy; people know the joy of accompanying the prefect, but don't know that the prefect takes joy in their joy. One who can share in others' joy while drunk, and describe it eloquently while sober this is the prefect. Who is this prefect? Ouyang Xiu of Luling.

On the Six Kingdoms Su Xun The fall of the Six Kingdoms wasn't due to inferior weapons or poor military strategy their downfall came from bribing Qin. Bribing Qin depleted their strength, paving the way for their destruction. Some might ask: "Did all Six Kingdoms fall because they bribed Qin?" I answer: Those who didn't bribe fell because of those who did, as they lost powerful allies and couldn't stand alone. Thus I say: their fundamental problem was bribing Qin. Beyond military conquest, Qin would gain small territories or entire cities through bribes. What Qin acquired through bribes was a hundred times more than what they won through battle. What the feudal lords lost through bribes was also a hundred times more than their battlefield losses. So Qin's greatest desire and the lords' greatest worry clearly wasn't about warfare. Think of how their ancestors endured frost and dew, cleared thorns and brambles to secure even small plots of land. Yet their descendants valued these lands so little they gave them away like discarded weeds. Today they cede five cities, tomorrow ten cities, just to sleep peacefully for one night. When they wake and survey their borders, Qin's army has already returned. The feudal states had limited territory while rapacious Qin had unlimited greed the more they gave, the more urgent Qin's encroachment became. So without fighting a single battle, the outcome between strong and weak was already decided. Their eventual collapse was inevitable. The ancients said: "Serving Qin with territory is like trying to put out a fire with firewood as long as the wood doesn't run out, the fire won't die." These words are perfectly apt. Qi never bribed Qin, yet it was the last of the Six Kingdoms to fall why? Because they allied with Qin instead of helping the other five states. Once the five states fell, Qi couldn't escape the same fate. The rulers of Yan and Zhao initially showed foresight, defended their territories, and righteously refused to bribe Qin. That's why Yan, though small, was among the last to fall proof of effective military resistance. But when King Dan employed Jing Ke's assassination plot, he hastened disaster. Zhao fought Qin five times, losing twice but winning three times. Later, when Qin attacked Zhao twice more, General Li Mu repeatedly repelled them. After Li Mu was executed because of slander, Handan became a Qin commandery regrettably, Zhao's military resistance didn't last. Moreover, Yan and Zhao faced Qin when the other states were nearly destroyed truly isolated and desperate situations. Their defeat and destruction were indeed inevitable. But had the three states each cherished their territory, had Qi not allied with Qin, had assassins not been sent, had good generals remained, then the outcome of victory or defeat, survival or destruction might have been more evenly matched with Qin perhaps not so easily determined. Alas! If they had used the land they gave to Qin to instead reward brilliant strategists, if they had used the loyalty they showed to Qin to instead honor exceptional talents, if they had united forces against the west I fear Qin would have been unable to swallow them! How tragic! With such potential advantage, they were intimidated by Qin's accumulated power, losing territory day by day, month by month, hastening toward destruction. Let those who govern never allow themselves to be intimidated by accumulated power! The Six Kingdoms and Qin were all feudal lords. Though weaker than Qin, they still had the potential to defeat Qin without bribes. If today's vast empire were to follow the pattern of the Six Kingdoms' destruction, it would fall even lower than they did.

Former Ode to the Red Cliffs Su Shi In the autumn of the Renxu year, after the full moon of the seventh month, I took guests boating below Red Cliff. A gentle breeze stirred without raising waves. We raised our cups in toast, reciting poems about the bright moon and singing songs of elegant beauty. Shortly after, the moon rose above the eastern hills, wandering between the constellations of the Dipper and Ox. White dew spread across the river, and the water's gleam met the sky. We navigated our small craft through the vast expanse, feeling as if we were floating through air, riding the wind without knowing where we'd stop like transcending the world to become immortals. We drank joyfully, tapping the boat's side as we sang: "With cassia oars and orchid paddles, we strike the clear brightness and row against flowing light. Distant, distant in my thoughts, I gaze toward my beloved in a far corner of the sky." One guest played a bamboo flute, harmonizing with our song a sound both mournful and yearning, weeping and pleading. The lingering notes continued like fine threads, stirring hidden dragons in deep gorges and moving widows in lonely boats to tears. I grew solemn, sat up straight, and asked the guest, "Why do you play so?" The guest replied, "Bright moon, scattered stars, crows flying south is this not from Cao Mengde's poem? Looking west to Xiakou and east to Wuchang, mountains and rivers intertwine in deep green is this not where Mengde was trapped by Zhou Yu? When he conquered Jingzhou, captured Jiangling, and sailed eastward downstream, his boats stretched a thousand miles, his banners filled the sky. He poured wine by the river and composed poems with spear in hand truly a hero of his age. But where is he now? Consider us, fishing and woodcutting by the river, befriending fish, shrimp, deer, and elk, riding a small leaf-like boat, raising gourds of wine in toast. We're like mayflies between heaven and earth, a single grain in the vast ocean. I mourn our brief lives while admiring the endless Yangtze, longing to roam with immortals and embrace the bright moon forever. Knowing these can't be quickly attained, I entrust these echoing thoughts to the sorrowful wind." I replied, "Do you understand water and moon? Though flowing, water never truly departs; though waxing and waning, the moon neither grows nor diminishes. From the perspective of change, heaven and earth don't remain the same for even a moment; from the perspective of constancy, all things are inexhaustible. Why envy anything? Moreover, in the world, everything has its rightful owner. If something isn't mine, I wouldn't take even a hair of it. Only the river's clean breeze and the mountain's bright moon ears hear them as sound, eyes see them as color. We can take freely without prohibition and use without exhaustion. These are the Creator's infinite treasures that you and I share." My guest smiled with delight. We rinsed our cups for more wine. The food was gone, cups and plates scattered. We reclined together in the boat, unaware that dawn had already broken in the east.

Latter Ode to the Red Cliffs Su Shi On the night of the full moon in October of that year, I walked from Snow Hall intending to return to Lingao. Two friends accompanied me past Yellow Mud Slope. Frost and dew had fallen, trees were bare of leaves, and our shadows stretched across the ground. Looking up at the bright moon, we delighted in it, singing as we walked, answering each other's verses. Then we sighed: "We have company but no wine, wine but no food on such a perfect night with a bright moon and clear breeze!" One friend said, "This evening at dusk, I caught fish in my net large-mouthed with fine scales, like perch from the Song River. But where shall we find wine?" He went home to consult his wife, who said, "I've been storing a gallon of wine for some time, saving it for your unexpected needs." So we took the wine and fish and returned to the foot of Red Cliff. The river flowed with a murmur beside thousand-foot cliffs. The mountains loomed large, making the moon seem small; the low water revealed stones. How little time had passed, yet the rivers and mountains were barely recognizable. I gathered my robes and climbed up, treading treacherous rocks, pushing through thick vegetation, perching where tigers and leopards might crouch, scaling peaks like coiled dragons, reaching for nests as precarious as those of hunting falcons, and gazing down into the deep palace of the river god. My two friends couldn't follow. I let out a long whistle that shook the grass and trees, echoed through mountains and valleys, and stirred wind and waves. I grew melancholy and fearful, sensing I couldn't remain. I returned to our boat and drifted in midstream, stopping wherever the current allowed. It was nearly midnight, with silence all around. Just then, a solitary crane flew eastward across the river. Its wings were like cartwheels, its dark plumage contrasting with white, as it cried out sharply and flew west past our boat. Shortly after, my friends departed, and I went to sleep. I dreamed of a Daoist in feathered garments dancing through the air past Lingao. He bowed to me and asked, "Did you enjoy your Red Cliff excursion?" When I asked his name, he looked down without answering. "Ah!" I exclaimed, "I know you now. Were you not the one who flew by with that cry last night?" The priest smiled, and I awoke startled. Opening my door to look, I saw no trace of him.

Memorandum on the Dynasty's Hundred Years of Peace Wang Anshi Your Majesty recently asked about how our dynasty has enjoyed a hundred years of peaceful rule. With my limited knowledge, I hurriedly responded to your sacred inquiry, but constrained by time, I dared not linger. My explanation was incomplete before I withdrew. Reflecting on Your Majesty's question a blessing for the realm I regret offering nothing substantial. This fails my duty as your close minister, so I now humbly present my thoughts. I believe Emperor Taizu possessed exceptional wisdom and insight, understanding people's true nature. He assigned responsibilities perfectly matching each person's talents and established systems precisely addressing each need. Thus, he could command generals, train soldiers, subdue foreign tribes externally while unifying China internally. He eliminated harsh taxes, ended cruel punishments, disbanded powerful regional military governors, punished corrupt officials, and personally led by example with simplicity and frugality. His every policy and decree aimed at benefiting the common people. Emperor Taizong continued this legacy with intelligence and martial strength, Emperor Zhenzong preserved it with humility and benevolence, and Emperors Renzong and Yingzong maintained virtuous rule. This explains our hundred years of peaceful governance. Emperor Renzong reigned longest, and I personally served in his court, witnessing his administration firsthand. Allow me to share some examples for Your Majesty's consideration in today's governance. Emperor Renzong ruled with reverence for Heaven above and people below. His kindness, respect, and frugality came naturally. His loyalty, empathy, honesty, and sincerity remained consistent throughout his reign. He never needlessly launched military campaigns nor executed anyone without cause. In judicial matters, he prioritized saving lives and particularly despised officials who harassed the people. He would rather humble himself and spend money on barbarian tribes than resort to warfare. His punishments were fair and impartial, his rewards generous and reliable. He welcomed criticism from inspectors and officials, listened objectively to all sides, and wasn't swayed by one-sided slander. He relied on public opinion to identify talented individuals from afar, while implementing systems of mutual accountability. Consequently, no official from imperial inspectors down to county magistrates dared abuse or harm the people. The Xia people became obedient, ethnic minorities caused no major disturbances, and border families were spared from war deaths. The nation's population thrived peacefully all because he never launched unnecessary wars, never executed without cause, focused on preserving lives in judicial cases, detested official abuse, and preferred diplomacy over combat. High ministers, nobles, and court attendants dared not violate laws, sometimes being even more cautious than common villagers the result of fair and impartial justice. Though nearly a million fierce warriors were recruited as soldiers, conspiracies were promptly defeated without needing exceptional generals. Despite the empire's vast wealth being managed by mere clerks with written records, thieves were consistently caught without requiring special officials. Even during famines when refugees filled roads and corpses piled up, bandits were quickly suppressed all because rewards were generous and reliable. No officials, nobles, or courtiers could abuse power or accumulate wealth through corruption, as wrongdoing was promptly reported. Though occasionally employed, corrupt individuals never lasted long the result of heeding inspectors and officials while remaining open to all perspectives without bias. From county magistrates to imperial ministers, though not every appointment was perfect, few truly talented individuals of the time failed to be recognized the result of relying on public opinion to identify talent while implementing mutual accountability. When he passed away, the entire nation wept as if losing their parents the result of his natural kindness, respect, frugality, empathy, honesty, and unwavering sincerity. However, our dynasty has perpetuated certain flaws of previous eras without frank counsel from ministers. Rulers spend their days with eunuchs and women, and when attending to state affairs, focus only on minor administrative details. Unlike the great rulers of old, they don't discuss the ways of ancient kings with scholars to implement throughout the realm. The dynasty mostly follows natural developments without applying focused effort or examining substance beyond appearances. While worthy individuals are valued, small-minded people also find positions. Though proper opinions are heard, corrupt ideas sometimes prevail. We seek talented individuals through poetry and essays without proper educational systems to nurture them. Court positions are assigned based on examination results and seniority without proper evaluation methods. Supervisory officials lack proper oversight, and frontier commanders aren't carefully selected. Frequent transfers make performance evaluation difficult, while empty talk confuses truth. Those with connections advance to prominent positions, while independent workers face obstacles. Thus, everyone merely fulfills minimal duties. Even capable officials cannot distinguish themselves from mediocre ones. Farmers suffer from labor duties without special relief or officials appointed to improve irrigation and land cultivation. The military includes aged and weak soldiers without proper training or selecting generals with long-term border authority. Palace guards consist of unreliable troops, continuing the Five Dynasties' practice of loose control. Imperial clan members receive no proper education or selection, failing to match ancient principles of treating relatives appropriately. Financial management generally lacks proper systems, so despite frugality the people aren't prosperous, and despite diligence the nation isn't strong. Fortunately, we haven't faced powerful foreign threats or natural disasters like floods and droughts during Emperors Yao and Tang's times, allowing peace for over a century. Though human effort played a role, Heaven's assistance was crucial. Our successive Emperors' reverence for Heaven and people, along with their kindness, respect, frugality, loyalty, empathy, and sincerity, earned this divine favor. Your Majesty possesses supreme wisdom and inherits an endless legacy. Recognizing that Heaven's assistance cannot be permanently relied upon and human effort cannot slacken, this is precisely the time for great achievement. I dare not abandon my duty to speak clearly nor evade punishment for any offense. I humbly request Your Majesty's forgiveness and consideration of these thoughts, for the benefit of all under Heaven. Awaiting your command.

Record of Dao Mountain Pavilion By Zeng Gong Min was once part of Zhou. When Qin Dynasty opened this land, it was incorporated into central China, becoming Min-zhong Commandery. From the furthest reaches of Yue and Yuzhang of Wu came its access routes. The land route through Min passes between two mountain ranges that run continuously without breaks. After traveling several postal stations, one might finally find a patch of flat land small ones become counties, large ones prefectures yet even these are surrounded by mountains. The paths sometimes climb steep slopes as if scaling a rope, sometimes hang over cliffs by a hair's breadth, or wind along precarious ledges above unfathomable streams. Jagged rocks jut out everywhere, forcing travelers to carefully choose each step. Even local porters must walk sideways to make progress. Outsiders rarely avoid stumbling. For water travel, all streams cascade from heights, with rocks jutting out like forests or like soldiers and horses filling the plains, stretching for hundreds of miles with no visible beginning or end. Water flows between the gaps, sometimes constricting and churning, sometimes shooting backward or sideways, appearing like knotted earthworms or insect carvings, swirling like wheels or shooting like arrows. Boatmen must navigate precisely miss by a hair and they'll be wrecked and drowned. Even locals who've lived by rivers their whole lives wouldn't dare pilot boats unless born and trained in water skills. Such are the dangers by land and water. The Han Dynasty once settled people between the Yangtze and Huai rivers while leaving this land empty perhaps because of its narrow passes and numerous obstacles, not simply abandoning it. Fuzhou, central to Min, is known as Minzhong. It is the flattest and broadest area in Min, with distant mountains and the Yangtze to the south, the sea to the east. The city is surrounded by moats connected to tides, with boats coming and going day and night. The hills abound with sturdy trees, and skilled craftsmen boast of grand houses; even the poor enhance their homes, while the palaces of Buddhists and Daoists are particularly magnificent. Within the city are three mountains: Min Mountain to the west, Nine Immortals Mountain to the east, and Yue King Mountain to the north, standing like a tripod. Along these mountains, hundreds of Buddhist and Daoist temples display extraordinary designs that exhaust human capability. When Grand Master of Ceremonial and Director of the Zhaowen Hall, Lord Cheng, governed this prefecture, he built a pavilion on a craggy spot on Mount Min. From there, the splendid mountains and rivers, the grand city, and the glorious temples all lay before one's eyes without leaving one's seat. Lord Cheng believed that this viewpoint above rivers and seas matched the legendary Daoist islands of Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou, so he named it "Dao Mountain Pavilion." Min's dangerous remoteness makes officials reluctant to serve here, but Lord Cheng could appreciate the land's beauty to delight his senses, not only forgetting its remoteness and dangers but elevating his thoughts beyond worldly dust how magnificent his spirit! Lord Cheng became known for his governance of this prefecture. He renovated the city walls, rebuilt the schools, and accomplished much more besides. When his term ended, he was transferred to Guangzhou and appointed as Remonstrance Officer, then as Imperial Secretary and Compiler of the Jixian Hall. Now he governs Yuezhou. His courtesy name is Gongbi, and his given name is Shimeng.