Chapter 11 · Yin-Yang and the Five Phases: Fire Virtue Approaching Its Extreme and the Mechanism of Transition Between Fullness and Emptiness

I. Yang Qi Full and Flourishing: The Position of Xiaoman in the Waxing and Waning of Yin and Yang

Viewed from the macroscopic perspective of the waxing and waning of yin and yang, Xiaoman occupies the critical stage where yang qi is "full and flourishing, approaching its extreme."

Across the year, yang qi begins its return with the birth of a single yang line at the Winter Solstice, and grows in succession: passing through Lichun (Beginning of Spring) and the Spring Equinox (yin and yang in balance), yang qi passes the halfway point; passing through Lixia, yang qi is already flourishing; by Xiaoman, yang qi is "full and flourishing, approaching its extreme"; by the Summer Solstice, yang qi reaches its utmost flourishing (yang at its extreme), whereupon a single yin line begins to be born.

Xiaoman's position within this sequence is "yang flourishing but not yet at its extreme." It has already far surpassed the Spring Equinox's balance of yin and yang, and is rapidly approaching the Summer Solstice's extreme of yang—yet it has not yet reached that turning point of "yang at its extreme, yin being born."

This position of "yang flourishing but not yet at its extreme" is entirely consistent with the literal meaning of "Xiaoman," with hexagram Qian's "six yang lines approaching fullness but not yet triggering yin's birth" among the twelve sovereign hexagrams, with the sun's shadow "approaching its shortest but not yet there," and with Fire virtue "approaching its extreme but not yet there." All of these dimensions point toward one and the same state—"approaching the extreme but not yet at the extreme." This is by no means mere coincidence, but a consistent grasp, from different angles (etymology, hexagram imagery, astronomy, the Five Phases), of one and the same great cosmic trend, under our ancestors' cosmology of "the unity of Heaven and humanity." In the eyes of our ancestors, the waxing and waning of the qi of Heaven and Earth was a single, unified process—no matter from which angle one approached it, what one saw was one and the same "Xiaoman."

II. Fire Virtue Approaching Its Extreme: From "The Flourishing Virtue Lies in Fire" to "Yang at Its Extreme, Yin Being Born"

We have already discussed how the first month of summer is correlated with the virtue of Fire. Here, we shall elaborate particularly on the trend of Fire virtue "approaching its extreme" at this specific point of Xiaoman, and on the "transition between fullness and emptiness" that it foretells.

At Lixia, "the flourishing virtue lies in Fire"—Fire virtue begins to flourish; by Xiaoman, Fire virtue has advanced further, full and flourishing, approaching its extreme; by the Summer Solstice, Fire virtue (yang qi) reaches its utmost flourishing. And the very moment "Fire virtue reaches its utmost flourishing" is precisely the mechanism by which "yin qi begins to be born" (a single yin line born at the Summer Solstice). This is the most profound dialectic of yin-yang and the Five Phases—any single "Phase," any single form of "qi," once it flourishes to its extreme, immediately turns into its opposite.

Xiaoman occupies the position where Fire virtue is "approaching its extreme but not yet there," precisely the eve of the transition between fullness and emptiness, "approaching but not yet arrived." It enjoys the full benefits of Fire virtue's fullness and flourishing (all things growing vigorously, the wheat kernels filling with grain), yet, through the restraint of "small fullness," avoids the turning point of "Fire at its extreme, yin being born." This is Fire virtue's most glorious, and also its safest, moment—one step before flourishing reaches its utmost extreme, the turning point not yet having begun.

Viewed in this light, "small fullness with no great fullness" appears all the more far-sighted. Were there such a thing as "great fullness," it would correspond to the "utmost flourishing" of Fire virtue (the extreme of yang at the Summer Solstice), to the turning point of "yang at its extreme, yin being born," to the perilous cliff of transition between fullness and emptiness, where utmost flourishing gives way to decline. Our ancestors' abolition of "great fullness," letting all things pause at "small fullness" (Fire virtue approaching its extreme but not yet there), was precisely to let all things remain one step before the very summit of "fullness"—there, everything still lies within the ascending channel of "fullness," not yet having fallen into the descending channel of "emptiness."

III. Bitterness, the Scorched Smell, and the Note Zhi: The Unity of Fire Virtue's Various Manifestations at Xiaoman

Let us return once more to the Five Phases correlations of the Monthly Ordinances, and, from the perspective of "Fire virtue approaching its extreme," reexamine those several correlations associated with Fire, to see how they unite into a single whole during the Xiaoman season.

"Its flavor is bitter"—as Fire virtue approaches flourishing, bitter things (the bitter herb) put forth their flowers in season, using bitterness to clear Fire. This is Fire virtue in the dimension of taste.

"Its smell is scorched"—the scorched smell is the qi of something burned by fire; among the five smells (goaty, scorched, fragrant, fishy, putrid), the scorched smell carries the strongest sense of "heat," corresponding to the dry heat of Fire virtue approaching flourishing. This is Fire virtue in the dimension of smell.

"Its note is zhi"—among the five notes (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu), the note zhi is the most impassioned and high-pitched, its tonal quality corresponding to the fervor of Fire. Our ancestors believed that, in summer, the vibrational frequency of the qi of Heaven and Earth resonated with the note zhi. This is Fire virtue in the dimension of hearing.

The "bitterness" of taste, the "scorched smell" of smell, the note "zhi" of hearing—three different senses, under the single unifying cosmic energy of Fire virtue, sound out one and the same movement of "summer." And Xiaoman is precisely the passage of this movement gradually building toward its climax (Fire virtue approaching its extreme). The bitterness of the bitter herb is on the tip of the tongue, the dry, scorched qi is at the tip of the nose, the impassioned note zhi resonates between Heaven and Earth—everything speaks of Fire virtue's fullness approaching its extreme. This holistic perception, in which "the five senses connect to the Five Phases, and the Five Phases unite in a single qi," is precisely the most captivating aspect of our ancestors' cosmology of yin-yang and the Five Phases—it unifies scattered sensory experiences into a single, seamlessly connected cosmic portrait.

IV. "The Number Seven" and Fire: Reflections on Fullness and Emptiness Within a Number of Fullness

The Monthly Ordinances states that the first month of summer's "number is seven" (其数七). In pre-Qin numerology, one and six belong to Water, two and seven to Fire, three and eight to Wood, four and nine to Metal, and five and ten to Earth. Seven belongs to Fire, and so it correlates with summer.

This "seven" can also give rise to a further reflection on "fullness and emptiness." In the numerology of the Luo River Chart's nine palaces and the He River Diagram, each number carries its own symbolism. "Fullness" and "brimming," in numerology, are often associated with "extreme numbers" (such as nine or ten)—nine being the extreme number of yang, and ten being a number of fullness (a full, complete number).

It is worth noting that Fire virtue is correlated with "seven," rather than with "nine" or "ten," those numbers symbolizing "utmost fullness." Seven is a number that is "full but not yet at its extreme"—it is no longer small, yet has not yet reached the extreme number of yang (nine) or the number of fullness (ten). How this quietly resonates, once again, with the spirit of "Xiaoman"! Though Fire virtue is flourishing, its number is "seven" (full but not yet at its extreme), rather than "nine" or "ten" (utmost fullness). This seems to corroborate, even at the numerological level, that however flourishing Fire virtue becomes, it ought still to hold to its "seven" (small fullness), rather than covet its "nine" or "ten" (great fullness).

Of course, such a numerological correspondence may seem somewhat forced, but it at least suggests to us: in our ancestors' cosmology, in which "all things are number," even numbers themselves were steeped in the philosophy of the waxing and waning of fullness and emptiness. "Seven," in relation to Fire and to summer, is not a cold symbol, but an expression, in the numerological dimension, of that state in which the qi of Heaven and Earth is "full but not yet at its extreme." Our ancestors' fondness for "small fullness," and their avoidance of "great fullness," turns out to resonate faintly, too, with this numerological arrangement—yet further evidence of the "consistency running through all things" (一以贯之) within the Chinese cosmology.