Rain Blurs the Distant Peaks. When the pure and turbid first parted, when heaven and earth found their places,…
Rain Blurs the Distant Peaks.
When the pure and turbid first parted, when heaven and earth found their places, the Three Powers were established, the Five Elements settled. All things were simple then, beyond naming. Then came Suiren, who studied the celestial pole to mark the directions and first brought fire to mankind. Fuxi followed, drawing the Eighteen Trigrams and establishing the kitchen, with cooked food came flavor, and with flavor, disease. The Divine Farmer, pitying the people's suffering, shattered a hundred evils to heal them, yet his methods remained imperfect. The Yellow Emperor, receiving heaven's mandate, created the nine needles. With swordsmen like Pei Gong and Lan Gong, he mapped the meridians, debated their pathways, and compiled the classics so future generations might follow. In the harsh transition between winter and spring, during the Warring States came Bian Que; in the Han Dynasty, Lord Cang and Zhongjing; in Wei, Hua Tuo, each delving into mysteries, mastering the subtle arts, curing diseases with but two or three herbs or seven or eight moxa cones. Yet from the Jin and Song dynasties onward, though famous physicians occasionally emerged, fewer than half of ten patients recovered. The fault lies with modern men, and their desires too great, their resolve too weak, indulgent and unrestrained, neglecting self-care. The sages taught so that every household might learn, every person understand. To fail in healing one's lord or parent is to fail in loyalty and filial piety. But now, petty men practice deceit under the guise of sacred teachings, making nobles and commoners alike despise the medical arts. They teach children to memorize trivial essays and petty stratagems, seeking only advancement. The art of healing goes neglected. How baffling! How far we've strayed from the sages' intent.