Duke Jing once held a grand banquet at the southern foot of Mount Tai. Deep in his cups, he gazed upon his lands and wept, lamenting, "Must I one day leave this great realm and die?" Three attendants joined him in sorrow. But Yanzi laughed heartily, slapping his thigh.
Angered, the Duke demanded an explanation. Yanzi replied, "I see before me one timid ruler and three flattering ministers—hence my laughter."
He continued gently: "Life and death follow nature's rhythm. If ancient kings never died, how could you have inherited this land? Growth yields to decay; birth precedes death. To fear the inevitable is cowardice; to echo such fear is flattery."
The Duke shifted, citing a comet that portended doom. Yanzi answered firmly: "Your deeds invite calamity—digging ponds to excess, building towers beyond need, taxing like plunder, punishing like vengeance. Why weep at a comet when your rule breeds darkness?"
The Duke trembled, returned to his court, filled the ponds, halted construction, lightened taxes, and tempered justice. Thirty-seven days later, the comet vanished.
——Life flows like seasons. Embrace impermanence, mend your present path—that is wisdom.