Chapter 3: The Third Month of Spring in the "Monthly Ordinances" of the Book of Rites — A Complete Cosmic Picture

Section 1: The Nature of the Monthly Ordinances — A Guide to Action Between Heaven and Humanity

Among all pre-Qin texts, the most detailed and systematic description of Guyu and the third month of spring in which it falls belongs to the "Monthly Ordinances" (Yueling) chapter of the Book of Rites (Liji) (its content is highly consistent with the "Record of the Third Month of Spring" chapter of the Lüshi Chunqiu, and most scholars believe the two share a common source). The Monthly Ordinances is not a simple calendrical record but a complete guide to action between Heaven and humanity—it tells us, at a given point in time, what the celestial phenomena are, what the earthly things are, and what human affairs ought to be. One might say the Monthly Ordinances is the most concrete, most systematic operating manual of the pre-Qin cosmology of "the unity of Heaven and humanity."

We must first clarify a correspondence in time: Guyu falls in the third month of the lunar calendar—the "chen month"—which is precisely what the Monthly Ordinances calls "the third month of spring." A year is divided into three stages for each season—the first, middle, and last months—so spring has its first month (the first lunar month), middle month (the second lunar month), and last month (the third lunar month). Guyu and Qingming both fall in the last month of spring, the solar terms of the final month of spring's three months. So to understand Guyu's place within the Monthly Ordinances, one must read the chapter on "the third month of spring."

Section 2: The Celestial Phenomena and Five-Phases Correspondences of the Third Month of Spring

The "Monthly Ordinances" of the Book of Rites opens its account of the third month of spring by sketching a complete picture of the celestial phenomena: "In the third month of spring, the sun is in the lodge Wei; at dusk the Seven Stars culminate; at dawn the Ox-Herder star culminates." The sun travels to the position of the lunar lodge Wei; at dusk, the constellation Seven Stars (one of the seven southern lodges of the Vermilion Bird) sits at the very center of the southern sky; at dawn, the Ox-Herder star sits at the very center of the southern sky. The positions of these stars and lodges were the astronomical basis by which the ancients judged the season.

Immediately following this, the Monthly Ordinances describes the Five-Phases attributes of the third month of spring, constructing an extraordinarily precise system of cosmic correspondences: "Its days are jia and yi; its sovereign is Great Hao; its attendant spirit is Goumang; its creatures are the scaly kind; its note is jue; its number is eight; its flavor is sour; its smell is fetid; its sacrifice is to the household gate, and the spleen is offered first." Let us examine each in turn:

"Its days are jia and yi"—the third month of spring corresponds to jia and yi among the Heavenly Stems. Among the ten Heavenly Stems, jia and yi belong to Wood. Why$15 Because the correspondence between the Stems and the Five Phases runs: jia and yi belong to Wood (spring), bing and ding belong to Fire (summer), wu and ji belong to Earth (late summer), geng and xin belong to Metal (autumn), ren and gui belong to Water (winter). The entirety of spring—first, middle, or last month alike—belongs to Wood, and is matched with jia and yi. This system welds time (the Heavenly Stems) together with material nature (the Five Phases), forming one of the basic frameworks of pre-Qin cosmology.

"Its sovereign is Great Hao"—the ruling sovereign of the third month of spring is Great Hao (also written Taihao or Taihao), that is, the legendary Fu Xi. Why is the sovereign of spring Great Hao$16 This relates to the system matching the Five Phases with the Five Sovereigns: the sovereign of spring is Great Hao (virtue of Wood), the sovereign of summer is the Flame Sovereign (virtue of Fire), the sovereign of the center is the Yellow Sovereign (virtue of Earth), the sovereign of autumn is Shao Hao (virtue of Metal), and the sovereign of winter is Zhuanxu (virtue of Water).

Great Hao Fu Xi is, in high-antiquity legend, the ancestral figure who drew the Eight Trigrams and invented writing and tallies, taking "brightness" (hao carries the meaning of luminosity, radiant whiteness) as his virtue; he governs the east, governs spring, governs Wood—grasses and trees growing toward the sun is precisely the expression of Wood's virtue of "bending and straightening" and its upward, luminous nature.

"Its attendant spirit is Goumang"—the assisting spirit of the third month of spring is Goumang. Goumang is, in high-antiquity legend, the spirit of Wood, the spirit of spring. The "Classic of Regions Beyond the Seas: East" chapter of the Classic of Mountains and Seas (Shanhaijing) records: "Goumang of the east has a bird's body and a human face, and rides upon two dragons." Goumang, in the capacity of Wood spirit, assists Great Hao and governs the east and spring. The very characters of his name, "Goumang," are themselves an image of grasses and trees first sprouting—"gou" means bent, curled, depicting the shape of a tender shoot still curled and not yet unfurled; "mang" means the awn or barb of a plant, its fresh tip. The name Goumang paints precisely the instant a seed breaks the soil, a tender shoot curls forth, and its first sharp tip appears. To take "Goumang" as the spirit of spring could not be more fitting.

"Its creatures are the scaly kind"—the representative category of creatures for the third month of spring is the "scaly creatures" (lin chong), that is, the fish-and-dragon kind, those bearing scales. In the pre-Qin classification of the five kinds of creatures, all things were divided into the scaly kind (corresponding to spring), the feathered kind (corresponding to summer), the naked kind (humanity, corresponding to the center), the furred kind (corresponding to autumn), and the shelled kind (corresponding to winter). One explanation for why the scaly kind is matched with spring is that the dragon is the chief of the scaly creatures, and the dragon governs spring rain, the east, and the virtue of Wood; when spring thunder first stirs and spring rain first arrives, it is exactly the time when "the scaled ones submerge and the feathered ones take flight," when the hibernating dragon ascends to Heaven. Guyu, abundant in rain, and rain being the domain the dragon presides over, makes the scaly creatures' match with spring especially fitting at Guyu.

"Its note is jue"—the musical note of the third month of spring is the note jue. Among the five tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu), the jue note is clear, resonant, and unimpeded, its tonal quality resonating with Wood's nature of growth and unfolding. The ancients believed each season had its own particular "sound"—not that one could only hear the jue note in spring, but that the vibrational frequency of Heaven and Earth's qi in spring resonates with the jue note. What a marvelous and bold imagination this is, linking acoustics with cosmology, holding that there exists between Heaven and Earth a kind of "resonance" that transcends matter.

"Its number is eight"—the numerological correspondence of the third month of spring is eight. In the pre-Qin numerological system, one and six belong to Water, two and seven to Fire, three and eight to Wood, four and nine to Metal, five and ten to Earth. Eight belongs to Wood, and is thus matched with spring. This correspondence of numbers with the Five Phases has an extremely ancient origin, possibly related to the tradition of the Yellow River Chart (Hetu) and the Luo River Writing (Luoshu).

"Its flavor is sour"—the flavor of the third month of spring is sour. The correspondence of the five flavors (sour, bitter, sweet, pungent, salty) with the Five Phases runs: sour belongs to Wood (spring), bitter to Fire (summer), sweet to Earth (late summer), pungent to Metal (autumn), salty to Water (winter). Why does sourness belong to Wood$17 One explanation holds that Wood's nature is to bend and straighten, to contract even as it grows forth, and sourness likewise carries a contracting quality; moreover, the fruits of newly sprouted plants are often sour (such as green plums and green apricots), and late spring is precisely the season of sour, unripe green fruit. In the perception of the ancients, taste was not merely a sensation of the tongue but a manifestation of the qi of Heaven and Earth.

"Its smell is fetid"—the smell of the third month of spring is fetid (shan, a rank, goat-like odor). The correspondence of the five smells (rank, scorched, fragrant, fishy, putrid) with the Five Phases matches rank with Wood and with spring. The rank smell is the raw scent of grasses and trees, and also the scent of goats, resonating with growing, sprouting Wood.

"Its sacrifice is to the household gate"—the object of sacrifice in the third month of spring is the spirit of "the household gate" (hu). The five sacrifices (household gate, hearth, central roof-beam, outer gate, roadway) are matched with the Five Phases, and the household gate is matched with spring. Why does spring sacrifice to the household gate$18 The household gate is the portal of entry and exit; in spring, the ten thousand things stir and sprout, and the vital qi issues outward, just as a person exits through the household gate; matching the household gate with spring takes its meaning of "opening, going forth, and sprouting."

"The spleen is offered first"—the organ first offered in sacrifice is the spleen. The five viscera are matched with the Five Phases, and here the Monthly Ordinances matches the spleen with spring (differing from the later medical tradition's matching of the liver with Wood, reflecting differences in Five-Phases correspondences across pre-Qin schools). But whatever the specific correspondence, the underlying logic is consistent: each organ of the body corresponds to some layer of the cosmos, and offering a particular organ in sacrifice expresses the resonance between the human body and Heaven and Earth.

Section 3: Why Did the Monthly Ordinances Construct Such a Precise System of Correspondence$19

Reflecting on the analysis above, we cannot help but ask: why did the Monthly Ordinances devote such extensive space to matching, one by one, the day, the sovereign, the spirit, the creature, the note, the number, the flavor, the smell, the sacrifice, and the organ$20 Would it not have sufficed simply to know "it is now late spring, and time to sow"$21

The answer lies here: for the ancients, merely knowing "late spring has arrived" was far from sufficient. What they needed to know was—behind this season in which rain gives birth to the hundred grains, in what manner does the entire cosmos operate$22 The stars and lodges above, the grasses and trees below, the human body's spleen, the sour taste on the tongue, the jue note in the ear—how are all these things threaded through and linked together by one and the same qi of "the virtue of Wood"$23

This impulse to seek a single thread running through all things is one of the most salient features of pre-Qin thought. The Master said: "My Way is bound together by a single thread" (吾道一以贯之) (Analects, "Li Ren"). This "single thread" is not merely an ethical principle but a cosmological conviction—though the ten thousand things of Heaven and Earth are utterly various, behind them a unified law is at work. The system of cosmic correspondence constructed by the Monthly Ordinances is precisely the concrete realization of this conviction.

It tells people: every seed you sow, every trace of sourness your tongue tastes, every sound of jue your ear hears, and even the spleen silently transforming things within your body—all are intimately connected to the position of the sun and the direction of the stars high above. You are not isolated; you are a single node upon this vast "web of the virtue of Wood."

Section 4: The Governmental Ordinances of the Third Month of Spring — The Governance of Growth and Nurture, and the Teaching of Guyu

The Monthly Ordinances lays out detailed prescriptions for the governmental ordinances of the third month of spring, whose core spirit may be summarized in four characters: growth, nurture, no killing. This is precisely the unfolding, on the political level, of the teaching of Guyu.

The "Monthly Ordinances" of the Book of Rites records the governance of the third month of spring: "In this month, order is given to the wardens of the wilds that they cut down no mulberry or cudrania trees. The cuckoo flaps its wings; the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry trees. The curved frames, upright posts, round baskets, and square hampers for silkworm-rearing are prepared; the queen consort fasts and purifies herself, and faces east to gather mulberry leaves with her own hands. The women's other labors are curtailed, and their service is reduced, in order to encourage the work of silk-rearing." This month, the officials in charge of the mountains and forests are ordered not to fell mulberry or cudrania trees. The cuckoo flaps its wings; the hoopoe alights on the mulberry trees. The tools for silkworm-raising (frames, posts, baskets, hampers) are made ready; the queen consort personally fasts, and faces east to pick mulberry leaves with her own hands. Women's other labors are reduced, so that all may devote themselves to encouraging the work of sericulture.

This passage of governmental ordinances corresponds, almost sentence by sentence, directly to the phenology and farm work of Guyu: "the cuckoo flaps its wings" and "the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry trees" are precisely the second and third pentads of Guyu's phenology; "cut down no mulberry or cudrania trees," "gather mulberry leaves with her own hands," and "encourage the work of silk-rearing" are the most crucial governance of mulberry and silk at the season of Guyu. What does it mean that the Monthly Ordinances records these as "ordinances" that the Son of Heaven and the queen consort must personally obey$24 It means that, in the eyes of the ancients, according with Guyu and fostering the care of sericulture was not a private matter for farmers, but a great affair of state, participated in jointly from the Son of Heaven and queen consort above down to the myriad people below, bearing upon the harmony of Heaven and humanity.

The Monthly Ordinances further records: "In this month... the qi of growth is just now at its height, the yang qi issues forth and disperses; the curled things all emerge, the sprouting things all extend; nothing should be kept closed within." This month, the qi of growth is just at its height, the yang qi disperses outward; whatever was curled has all come forth; whatever was sprouting has all extended itself; nothing may be kept sealed away within. The eight characters "the curled things all emerge, the sprouting things all extend" (句者毕出，萌者尽达) portray, to the fullest, that surging vitality of late spring in which the ten thousand things vie to break through the soil, none remaining curled or hidden away. This is precisely the total picture of Guyu's "rain giving birth to the hundred grains" across Heaven and Earth—beneath the moistening rain, whatever possesses the will to live surges forth without exception.

Section 5: The Warnings of the Monthly Ordinances — The Consequences of Enacting Untimely Ordinances in the Third Month of Spring

Having described the governance proper to the third month of spring, the Monthly Ordinances also sternly warns of the consequences of enacting "untimely ordinances": "If in the third month of spring the ordinances of winter are enacted, then cold qi will repeatedly arise, the grasses and trees will all wither, and the state will know great dread. If the ordinances of summer are enacted, the people will suffer much pestilence, the timely rains will not fall, and the mountains and forests will yield no harvest. If the ordinances of autumn are enacted, Heaven will be heavy with gloom, excessive rains will fall prematurely, and weapons and warfare will arise on every side."

If, in the third month of spring, the ordinances proper to winter were enacted (such as severe punishment and sealing away), then cold qi would repeatedly arise, the grasses and trees would all wither, and the state would know great dread. If the ordinances proper to summer were enacted (such as forcing premature growth), then pestilence would spread, the timely rain would not fall, and the mountains and forests would yield a poor harvest. If the ordinances proper to autumn were enacted (such as severity and military campaigns), then dark clouds would gather thick, excessive rain would fall prematurely, and weapons of war would rise on every side.

Among these warnings, two bear directly on the rain of Guyu and merit special attention. First: "if the ordinances of summer are enacted... the timely rain will not fall"—if, in late spring, the ordinances of high summer were enacted, the timely rain would not fall. Does this not say precisely that acting contrary to the season brings the cutting-off of Guyu's rain$25 Second: "if the ordinances of autumn are enacted... excessive rains will fall prematurely"—if, in late spring, the severe ordinances of autumn were enacted, excessive rain would fall prematurely. This says, in turn, that acting contrary to the season would turn Guyu's rain into an excessive rain that harms the crops.

These two warnings, one positive and one negative, reveal a deeply held conviction of the ancients: the "timing" and "measure" of rain are intimately bound up with the "governance" of human affairs. When the timely rain that should come fails to come, and the excessive rain that should not come arrives instead, this, in the eyes of the ancients, is no mere accident of weather, but the retribution, manifest in celestial phenomena, for misgovernance in the human world.

The rain of Guyu is precious precisely because it is "timely rain"—rain arriving at exactly the right time, in exactly the right measure. And to preserve this "timely rain," humanity must enact "timely governance"—ordinances that accord with the season of Heaven. Viewed from a modern perspective, this causal logic surely lacks scientific foundation, but its core insight—that governance must adapt to the objective rhythms of the seasons and the growth of the ten thousand things—still glimmers with wisdom today.