Chapter 15第15章

The masters of old were so subtle and profound you couldn't really figure them out. Since they can't be fathomed, let me just describe how they appeared: cautious, like crossing a frozen river in winter. Watchful, as if surrounded by danger on all sides. Courteous, like a visiting guest. Yielding, like ice about to melt. Simple, like uncarved wood. Open, like a valley. Opaque, like muddy water. Who can be still until the mud settles and the water clears? Who can remain at rest until the moment of action naturally arrives? Those who hold to this Way don't want to be filled to the brim. Because they're not full, they can be worn out and yet renewed.

The ancient masters were subtle, mysterious, and penetrating — so deep they cannot be known. And because they cannot be known, we can only describe their appearance. Hesitant as one crossing a winter stream. Vigilant as one aware of threats from all quarters. Dignified as a guest. Yielding as melting ice. Simple as uncarved wood. Broad as a valley. Murky as turbid water. Who can, through stillness, gradually bring the muddy to clarity? Who can, through prolonged calm, slowly come to life? These are descriptions of the shamanic temperament — the person who has surrendered to the process rather than trying to control it. Those who preserve this Way do not wish to be full. Not being full, they can be depleted and yet renewed — the eternal cycle of death and rebirth that is the hallmark of genuine initiatory experience.

Wang Bi observes that the ancient masters who were good at practicing the Way were so subtle, so mysterious, so deeply penetrating, that their true nature could not be recognized. And precisely because they could not be recognized, one can only try to describe their appearance by analogy. Their edges and outlines could not be modeled or mapped. 'Full must overflow' — so the one who preserves this Way does not desire fullness. And precisely because there is no fullness, Wang Bi says, there is the ability to remain covered over rather than becoming something shiny and new. The word 'bi' means to cover, to keep hidden. The word 'new' here is contrasted with the old — the sage can remain in the state of the worn and weathered rather than chasing after the bright and novel. The one who attains life from this natural Way does so through what is difficult: carefully, slowly, with detailed attentiveness.

Wang Bi’s commentary here establishes the epistemological problem of recognizing mastery. The ancient practitioners of the Way were so subtle and deeply communicating that their inner state was unrecognizable. Because they were unrecognizable, any description must be forced — 'qiang wei zhi rong,' one can only struggle to approximate their appearance. Their edges could not be mapped or modeled. And then the key insight about non-fullness: 'ying bi man' — what is full must overflow. Therefore the one who preserves this Way does not desire fullness. Because there is no fullness, there is the capacity to remain 'bi' — covered, hidden, worn — rather than becoming 'xin cheng,' shiny and newly accomplished. Wang Bi is making an aesthetic and ethical argument simultaneously: the genuine master looks old, used, unremarkable. The person who attains this natural Way does so through what is difficult — 'xu zhe xiang shen ye,' carefully, with detailed attentiveness. This is the anti-charismatic theory of leadership: real mastery is invisible, unremarkable, indistinguishable from the ordinary.