Wù means ‘to apply yourself diligently (to something)', ‘to mind (something)'. Zī means not only ‘this' but also ‘this year's': really a mot just on Zhōu Xìngsì's part, revealing his elegant and economical powers of expression. The Chinese of antiquity were chiefly concerned with agriculture, as we see from the lunar calendar. Wú Jìng of the Táng said: "In all matters, we must all apply ourselves to the foundations. The people are the foundation of the country; clothing and food are the foundation of the people". (Zhengguan Zhengyao, cited in the Huáxià GB reader.)

The Book of Poems says ("Xiǎo yǎ", "Dà tiān"): "With my keen plow I start the year down in the southern field; the grains I've sown will be so vast and very tall in yield". shǔ jì, millet and sorghum here refer to grain product in general.

Shòu and gòng both refer to payment of tax in grain. At its worst, the common people were robbed yearly at knifepoint, at idyllic best with a good prince they had their needs taken care of throughout the year in return for their grain. In the Eastern Hàn this changed with the stronger central authority and the appointment by Hàn Jǐngdì of Cháo Cuò (200–154 BCE) to high office at court. Cháo strengthened the farmers and tradespeople at the expense of the feudal lords (zhǔhóu) and their old kingdoms. The central state's tax collectors took the grain where they could and invested industrious farmers with titles and estates at the expense of the establish feudal interests. He began cutting back severely on the Zhǔ Hóu and their lands, and encouraged population to move toward the frontier under central government rule in fortified settlements, as a policy against the invading Huns. Finally, seven old feudatories led by Wú and Shǔ revolted; when Emperor Jǐngdì heard of it, he had Cháo Cuò put to death.

The sage Mèngzì famously said that the highminded adult should always be true to the "child inside them"; preserve the pure spirit of the child and never take leave of or adulterate one"s natural-born pure goodness. (Mèngzì: "Li Lou", "Xia"). Shǐ Yú, or Shǐ Guānzì Yú of the state of Wèi, was praised by Kǒngzǐ for his uprightness, frankness, correctness and honesty; no matter what the situation, good or bad, whether treated kindly or abused, he would never lose his composure or compromise himself, remaining always "straight as an arrow". "Jūnzǐ hé ér bù liú": the jūnzǐ is mild and agreeable but cannot be swayed from principle.

In the Zhōngyōng, what is upright and uninfluenced is zhōng, or ‘in the middle': once affected, the resulting arousal is moderated, and that moderation process is yōng. The behavior of a pendulum is a good analogy. The family upbringing, education and moral refinement of an individual allow their various feelings to remain calm and unmoved if not appropriatly activated, to be on guard against dangerous arousal, and to limit the resulting engagement of moved feelings appropriately. The common type runs against the mean, courts danger in pursuit of pleasure or benefit; the highminded, princely person follows the mean calmly, accepts things they cannot change and extends their life. The refined and highminded person must remain modest and humble, and guard their private moments and thoughts at all times. This enables a person to achieve chéng, sincerity, to serve society and to share the unfailing regularity and integrity of heaven and earth, like the rules of physics that limit the pendulum. It can never be reached in completeness: like infinity, it is the ideal end of purity, control and integrity which men and women strive to approximate.

In Analects ("Xue Er", "One"), Kǒngzǐ said: "Qiǎo yán lìng sè, xiǎn yǐ rén" (‘clever words and a charming smile are rarely a sign of kindness'). When listening, be careful to distinguish truth from falsehood: carefully examine the voice and the see if the words spoken make sense. And, as the Chinese people have long said, "chá yán guān sè" (‘look at the color') of a person's face carefully.

Transmit your life experience and moral principles to others, to help them avoid pitfalls in establishing themselves in the world. Kǒngzǐ said in Analects ("Shu Er") "Sān rén xíng, bì yǒu wǒ shí" (‘Out of every three people, there must be one who can be my teacher').

When receiving harsh words of criticism or warning, even disrespect, sincerely search your soul first for the reason. "Don't accuse the speaker but be warned by his words," goes a Chinese proverb. This notion once more of fǎnxǐng (or self-examination). When you are the subject of praise or flattery, don't get carried away and compromise your loyalties; don't indulge your pride and fall into words or acts of treason due to some sweet words. In old China one's entire family could be beheaded for treason: miè mén zhī huò, the tragedy of collective family punishment.

When you sense the danger of a shameful affair or scandal about to occur, remove yourself to a high, wooded place near water. Lǎozì said that "zhī zǔ bù rǔ, zhī zhǐ bù dài": "Those who know a limit don't bring shame; those who know when to stop stay out of danger".

The brothers Shū Guǎng and Shū Shòu were court officials of Hàn Xuāndì's reign who received glowing praises after long, dedicated service; five years later the two famously used the pretext of age and infirmity, turned in their seals and retired to their home district. Later people have since said "gōng suì shēn tuì", or, ‘Attack complete, self in retreat': quit while you're ahead.

The poet Táo Yuānmíng (372–427) of the Eastern Jìn was tired of involvement in officialdom and retired to the quiet fields and gardens, where he came to love the tranquility and silence. He wrote:

"Living in a grass hut in country, Happily resigned from luxury...In cottage at the limit of the town, Without a sound of cart or horse around".

Happily puting aside the luxuries of official quarters, he went off to a secluded and poor district to till the soil and enjoy a solitary and cloistered existance in purity.

Lù Yóu of the Sòng, who spent his later years in seclusion at Shān Yīn (today's Shàoxīng in Zhèjiāng Province), wrote:

"In bed I endlessly read Tao's rhymes Then in drizzle go to tend my vines."

That well describes the escape to tranquility in wistful pursuit of the ancients, and the charmingly delightful and idyllic existance that offers joy with everything before one's eyes.

The Táng poet Wáng Wéi who himself withdrew to live as a recluse in Wǎngzhōu, today's Lántián in Shǎnxī Province, wrote:

"In old age seeking just tranquility Not a thing in this whole world to trouble me...An old man of the woods and I once metThe chatting and the laughter goes on yet..."

This describes the incomparable joy to be found in the putting aside of worldly matters.

Now we turn to the beautiful scenes of Chinese gardens, which subtly represent the will of the cultivated person.

The Chinese are fond of using the signs of autumn in literature to represent the early passing of a person or life's sadness and ephemeral nature in general. The changes in trees and foilage, rains, migration of birds, and appearance of the sky are commonly used. The firmiana, wútóng in Chinese, is similar to the the paulownia with its large, heart-shaped leaves, and is often used in such imagery, especially to signify mourning or the onset of old age. The oak, a much different sort of tree, is similarly used by western writers as its leaves also whither and fall rather early. The famed poetess Lǐ Qīngzhào of the Sòng wrote:

All alone and somehow cast in black From wutong tree combined with misty rain A steady drizzle patters unto dusk Can words like sadness really say it all?

The flight of fowl such as geese or more exotic birds is often used as well in the autumnal sense.

The Táng poet Dù Fǔ wrote:

All around the fallen branches whistle to the ground In the air we hear the distant Yángzǐ's gushing sound.

A rich and sweeping image, deep in meaning and rendered in very simple language.

The legendary giant bird of land and sea called the kūnpéng flies off on its own discretion, soaring high and drawing near to the auspicious red cloud hanging in the autumn sky. The clean and auspicious departure of the great; leaving at the height of one's fame. This concludes Chapter 5 of the Qiānzì wén, which began with agriculture as the base of government, turned to the cultivation of official morality, spoke of the need for caution and foresight, of dealing with others, and finally got around to the ideal later life in rural seclusion, quiet and tranquility, and the individual's decline decline and death as a natural eventuality.