Uncle Dragon said to Wen-Zhi:
— Subtle art is available to you. I'm sick. Can you cure me?
“I obey the order,” Wen-Zhi replied. “But first, tell me about the signs of your illness.”
“I don’t consider praise in my community to be glory, and blasphemy in the kingdom is not a shame; When I gain, I don’t rejoice; when I lose, I don’t grieve. I look at life as well as at death; I look at wealth as well as at poverty; I look at a person as well as at a pig; I look at myself as well as at others; I live in my house, as if in an inn; I watch over my community as if it were the kingdoms of Rong and Man. I cannot be seduced by rank and reward, I cannot be frightened by punishment or ransom, I cannot be changed by prosperity or decline, by gain or loss, I cannot be swayed by sorrow or joy. Because of this darkness of illnesses, I cannot serve the sovereign, communicate with relatives, friends, manage my wife and sons, command servants and slaves. What kind of disease is this? What remedy can cure it?
Wen-Zhi ordered the patient to stand with his back to the light and began to examine him.
- Ah! - he exclaimed. - I see your heart. His place, a whole cun, is empty, almost like a sage’s! Six holes in your heart are open, but the seventh is blocked. Perhaps that is why you consider wisdom to be a disease? But my insignificant art cannot cure this!
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru