In adulthood, Hua-tzu from the Yang-Li clan of the Song state lost his memory. He could receive a gift in the morning and forget about it in the evening; he could give a gift in the evening and forget about it by morning. On the street he might forget to walk, at home he might forget to sit down. Today he could not remember what happened yesterday; tomorrow - what happened today.
His family became worried and invited a diviner to tell Hua Tzu's future, but to no avail. They invited a shaman to perform an auspicious ritual, but this came to nothing. They invited a doctor to cure him, but this did not bring any improvement.
There was a Confucian from Lu who, offering his services, announced that he could improve matters. Hua Tzu's wife and children promised him half of their fortune as a reward.
The Confucian said to them:
“It is clear that this is a disease that cannot be predicted by hexagrams and omens, cannot be bewitched by auspicious prayers, cannot be cured with medicines and needles. I will try to transform his mind, change his thoughts. It is hoped that this will restore it.
After this, the Confucian tried to undress Hua-tzu, and he looked for his clothes; tried to starve him, and he looked for food; tried to close it in the dark, and it looked for a way out to the light.
The Confucian was pleased and said to his sons:
“The disease is curable, but my art is carried secret through generations and is not told to outsiders. So I will shut up his ears and stay alone with him in his room for seven days.
They agreed - and no one knew what methods the Confucian used, but the long-term illness dissipated in one morning.
When Hua Tzu woke up, he was very angry. He drove away his wife, punished his sons, and chased the Confucian with a spear. The Song authorities arrested him and wanted to know the reason.
“Before, when I forgot,” said Hua Tzu, “I was without boundaries, I did not notice whether heaven and earth existed.” Now suddenly I remembered - and all the disasters and their overcoming, gains and losses, joys and sorrows, love and hatred of the twenty or thirty years I had lived rose up in a thousand tangled threads. I am afraid that all these adversities and overcoming them, gains and losses, joys and sorrows, love and hate will come and hit my heart hard. Will I find a moment of forgetfulness again?
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru