Old Chinese wisdom: Laozi on life

Author: Wen Zhang
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2005-10-01
Features:
Don't listen to the words of the ancients, and you'll suffer losses in front of your eyes;
Don't learn from old experiences, and you'll struggle to succeed in life.
The old wisdom of the Chinese—great knowledge passed down through millennia,
the golden rules guiding life, and the operational guide for success.
Walk without changing your name: Jin Zhang is the author;
Sit without altering your nature, remaining a man to the end;
Stand with a registered origin: Cangzhou, Hebei.
Unable to resist the temptation, here is a brief introduction:
Vice Editor-in-Chief of a certain newspaper;
Member of the Chinese Writers' Association;
Council Member of the Provincial I Ching Research Association;
Vice President of the Provincial Military Strategy Business Management Research Association.
Wen Zhang is a small servant, specializing in writing.
Apart from the boss Cangjie, he has already churned out three or five million words,
which he sells to newspapers or publishing houses.
The effort is his, but the profit is mine.
As an equal exchange, works such as Eternal Constellations (short story collection),
Chronicles of the Dangerous Building (drama), and The Spiritual Archive of Han Yu (biography),
along with this book, all bear Wen Zhang's name.
What more can he say?
This book contains over 200,000 words,
analyzing the profound and distant Tao Te Ching in a meticulous, illustrative, and accessible manner.
It is vivid and colloquial, so even an old woman or a child can recite it easily.
The writing style, like a mountain with pointed stones or the sea with waves,
alternates between restraint and exuberance, shifting between solemnity and humor.
It makes readers reflect upon closing the book, awaken with clarity,
understand with sudden insight, and laugh with joy.
Wen Zhang's quiet strength finally reveals itself.
His witty and engaging words flow effortlessly from the pen.
The "fun" in this book is not just for amusement.
The real intent lies in resolving doubts,
benefiting the world and its people.
To say that "Laozi opened a pharmacy" is quite apt.
This reminds me of a passage in Notes from a Hidden Valley by Cao Xueqin,
where a guardian deity says something similar:
"Confucianism and Taoism are like medicine—addressing the concerns of life and death,
gain and loss, joy and sorrow.
They explain grievances, dispel frustrations, and are faster than Confucianism."
Dear readers, if you have endured the bitterness of human interactions and find it hard to let go,
you might as well pick up this book, find your place, and take the right medicine.
Even if it doesn't fully free you from the constraints to enjoy life as you wish,
it can at least scratch the right spot, open your heart, and cleanse your soul.