An Exploration of Pre-Qin Philosophical Origins of "Those Whose Universes are Vast and Stable Emit the Light of Heaven" in Zhuangzi's "Geng Sang Chu"
This paper deeply interprets the core proposition "Those whose universes are vast and stable emit the light of heaven" from Zhuangzi's "Geng Sang Chu." Integrating Pre-Qin classics, it analyzes the proposition's five-layered progressive meanings, exploring the essence of Zhuangzi's thought concerning inner stillness, the interaction between Heaven and humanity, the transcendence of intellectual limits, and the cosmic order.

Part Eight: Deep Inquiries and Tentative Answers
Chapter 23: Ten Fundamental Inquiries
Question 1: Why "Yǔ" (Universe/Space) instead of "Xīn" (Mind)$43
Why did Zhuangzi choose "Yǔ" to describe the inner state instead of directly using "Xīn" (Mind)$44
Guanzi, Nei Ye used "Mind" ("Settled mind within"). Mencius used "Mind" ("Unshakeable mind"). Xunzi used "Mind" ("The mind is the sovereign of the form"). Why did Zhuangzi prefer "Yǔ"$45
Tentative Answer:
The character "Xīn" in the pre-Qin context was already burdened with too many meanings—the mind of thought, the mind of emotion, the mind of morality. Using "Xīn" to describe the practitioner’s inner state risks misunderstanding—suggesting cultivation is merely a psychological affair. "Yǔ," however, points to a broader dimension—it encompasses not only the mind but also the space the mind occupies, the body, the vital energy field, and the entire internal existence. "Yǔ Tài Dìng" is not just mental tranquility but the settling of the entire inner universe (all internal existence, including body, mind, and energy) into harmony and flow. This differs subtly from "Fasting of the Mind" (Xīn Zhāi) in Zhuangzi, Ren Jian Shi—where "Emptiness is the Fasting of the Mind." "Xīn Zhāi" emphasizes the emptiness of the mind. "Yǔ Tài Dìng," however, emphasizes the tranquil settling of the entire inner spatial realm—not only is the mind empty, but the entire inner universe is harmonious and flowing. "Xīn Zhāi" is one step in the technique; "Yǔ Tài Dìng" is the holistic effect of the technique.
Question 2: Why Can't "Heavenly Light" Be Pursued Artificially$46
If "Heavenly Light" is the effect of cultivation, why can't pursuing "Heavenly Light" be the goal of cultivation$47
Tentative Answer:
This question touches upon the core paradox of Zhuangzi’s cultivation: Pursuing "Heavenly Light" is itself an artificial fabrication, and any artificial fabrication obscures Heavenly Light. It is like trying to catch a shadow—the harder you try to catch it, the faster it disappears.
Zhuangzi, Tian Yun, states:
"Nature cannot be changed; destiny cannot be altered; time cannot be stopped; the Dao cannot be blocked. If one obtains the Dao, there is nothing one cannot do; if one loses it, there is nothing one can do."
"If one obtains the Dao, there is nothing one cannot do; if one loses it, there is nothing one can do"—obtaining the Dao is not pursuing the Dao, but rather the Dao naturally manifesting once all obscurations are removed. Likewise, the arising of "Heavenly Light" is not pursuing light but letting it shine forth naturally after removing all obscurations.
This is the meaning of "daily decrease in the pursuit of the Dao"—cultivation is not about adding something (pursuing Heavenly Light) but subtracting something (removing obscurations). When obscurations are completely removed, Heavenly Light arises naturally without need for pursuit.
Question 3: Why is "Human Abandonment" a Good Thing$48
Worldly abandonment is usually seen as a sign of failure and isolation. Why does Zhuangzi see "Human Abandonment" (Rén Shě Zhī) as a good thing$49
Tentative Answer:
This must be understood on two levels.
First level: The reason people abandon the cultivator is that the cultivator no longer conforms to secular standards—he does not pursue fame, profit, or power, nor does he participate in social competition or adhere to worldly rules. In the eyes of the world, he is useless, eccentric, and incomprehensible. However, it is precisely this "uselessness" that saves him from being consumed by the secular world and preserves his natural vitality.
Zhuangzi, Ren Jian Shi, states:
"The mountain tree harms itself, the oily flame consumes itself. Lacquer can be used, so it is scraped; the cassia tree can be eaten, so it is cut down. Everyone knows the use of the useful, but no one knows the usefulness of the useless."
"The usefulness of the useless" (Wú Yòng Zhī Yòng)—the usefulness of being useless. The "uselessness" of the cultivator is his greatest "usefulness"—preserving life and comprehending the Heavenly Dao.
Second level: The abandonment by worldly people allows the cultivator to focus exclusively on his practice, no longer entangled by secular relationships and expectations. When secular entanglements vanish, the mind’s space opens up completely, allowing the power of the Heavenly Dao to enter freely.
This is the deeper reason why "Human Abandonment" is the prerequisite for "Heavenly Assistance"—it’s not that the Dao waits until people abandon the cultivator before helping; rather, once secular constraints disappear, the help of the Dao naturally manifests because the obstruction is removed.
Question 4: Why Can "Tiānmín" and "Tiānzǐ" Be Unified$50
In the secular order, "People" (Mín) and "Son" (Zǐ, Tiānzǐ) are opposed. Why can they be unified in Zhuangzi’s order of the Heavenly Dao$51
Tentative Answer:
The opposition between "people" and "son" in the secular order is based on unequal power—the Tiānzǐ has power, the people do not. But in the order of the Heavenly Dao, there is no inequality of power—the Dao shines equally upon everyone ("The Dao of Heaven is impartial").
When the cultivator returns to the order of the Heavenly Dao, he simultaneously possesses two identities:
As "Tiānmín," he is a subject of the Heavenly Dao—living humbly, naturally, and non-actively, seeking no secular power.
As "Tiānzǐ," he is a son of the Heavenly Dao—the power of the Dao flows through him into the world; he is the embodiment of the Heavenly Dao among men.
The key to this unification lies in "Non-action" (Wú Wéi)—he does not claim the title of Tiānzǐ (no merit, no name), yet he performs the function of the Tiānzǐ (the Dao flows through him). He does not feel inferior as a Tiānmín (no self), yet he possesses the virtue of the Tiānmín (humility and naturalness).
This aligns with Laozi Chapter 66:
"The reason rivers and seas can become the kings of a hundred valleys is that they are good at staying low. Thus, the sage, wishing to be above the people, puts himself below them in speech; wishing to be in front of the people, he puts himself behind them in action. Thus, though the sage occupies a high position, the people do not feel oppressed; though he is in the lead, the people do not feel harmed. Thus the world is happy to push him forward and never tires of him. Because he does not contend, no one under Heaven can contend with him."
The reason rivers and seas become kings of the valleys is that they are good at being low (Tiānmín). Yet, because of this, the waters of all valleys flow to them (Tiānzǐ). Here, "people" and "son" merge—the lowest is the most noble, the most humble is the most revered.
Question 5: Why is "Learning What One Cannot Learn" Not Empty Talk$52
"Learning what one cannot learn"—learning what is unlearnable. Isn't this an empty phrase$53 Is there any practical method for it$54
Tentative Answer:
This phrase is indeed not a "practical method" in the conventional sense. It does not tell you "what you should do," but rather "what state you should maintain."
Specifically, the "practice" of "learning what one cannot learn" can be understood on several levels:
First Level: Recognizing the limitations of secular learning. This is a cognitive recognition—you need to know that everything you learn through books, teachers, or thought has limits. This knowledge cannot touch the essence of the Dao.
Second Level: Releasing attachment to secular learning. This is the practice on the level of technique—you must genuinely let go of attachment to knowledge, no longer measuring your spiritual achievement by the quantity of knowledge you possess. This is the practice of "daily decrease."
Third Level: Waiting for the Dao to manifest naturally in emptiness and stillness. Once secular learning is relinquished, the mind enters a state of emptiness and stillness (Yǔ Tài Dìng), and the Heavenly Dao naturally manifests (Fā Hū Tiān Guāng). This "manifestation" is the effect of "learning what one cannot learn"—you have "learned" it, yet you "cannot learn" it, because it was not acquired through the method of "learning."
These three levels combined constitute the concrete content of "learning what one cannot learn." It is not empty talk but a profound practice of the Dao.
Question 6: Why is "Knowing Where to Stop" the "Utmost" (Zhì) and Not the "Beginning" (Shǐ)$55
Usually, recognizing one's own ignorance is considered the starting point of cultivation (like Socrates: "I know that I know nothing"), so why does Zhuangzi consider "Knowing where to stop where one cannot know" to be the "Utmost" (Zhì Yǐ)—the highest state$56
Tentative Answer:
This question concerns a crucial difference between Eastern and Western philosophical traditions.
In the Western philosophical tradition (represented by Socrates), recognizing one's ignorance is the starting point for the pursuit of knowledge—"I know that I know nothing," so I must pursue knowledge. Ignorance is the beginning, and knowledge is the goal.
In Zhuangzi’s philosophy, recognizing one's unknowing is not the beginning of pursuit but the end point of abandoning attachment to knowledge. "Knowing where to stop where one cannot know"—stopping before the boundary of knowledge—is the ultimate wisdom. After stopping the pursuit of knowledge, the light of the Heavenly Dao naturally fills the mind. This "manifestation" is not knowledge but "Heavenly Light"—illumination that transcends knowledge.
Therefore, "Knowing where to stop" is not the beginning of cultivation but its final achievement—after going through the long process of "learning what one cannot learn," "acting what one cannot act," and "debating what one cannot debate," the cultivator finally reaches the state of "Knowing where to stop"—having completely given up the pursuit of knowledge. At this point, Heavenly Light fills him, and all things become one—this is the "Utmost."
This aligns with Laozi Chapter 16: "Knowing constancy is illumination. Not knowing constancy leads to reckless action and misfortune." "Knowing constancy is illumination" (Zhī Cháng Yuē Míng)—knowing the constant law of the Dao is the highest illumination. This "knowing constancy" is not intellectual understanding but existential oneness—becoming one with the constancy of the Dao.
Question 7: Why "Tiān Jūn" (Heavenly Balance) Instead of "Heavenly Punishment" (Tiān Fá) or "Heavenly Execution" (Tiān Zhū)$57
Zhuangzi uses "Tiān Jūn Bài Zhī" (Heavenly Balance defeats him) instead of "Heavenly Punishment" or "Heavenly Execution." What is the significance of this choice of words$58
Tentative Answer:
"Heavenly Punishment" or "Heavenly Execution" implies a personal Heaven—a Heaven that acts as a judge, intentionally punishing those who deviate from the Dao. "Tiān Jūn Bài Zhī," however, is completely de-personalized—the balancing force of Tiān Jūn causes the non-conformist to be ruined, like a physical law causing an unstable structure to collapse—there is no will or purpose involved.
The choice of the character Jūn (鈞) is even more suggestive. Jūn is the potter’s wheel—rotating uniformly, continuously, and unconsciously. The operation of the Heavenly Dao is like the potter’s wheel—impartial, ceaseless, and purposeless. Those who do not conform to this rotation (like unevenness in the clay) will be thrown off during the spinning—this is "defeat" (Bài).
This "defeat" is not punishment but natural elimination. It is not that Heaven intentionally ruins someone, but that those who fail to conform to the Dao cannot maintain their own existence within the operation of Tiān Jūn—just as an uneven clay vessel cannot form on a spinning wheel.
This choice of wording reflects the fundamental characteristic of Zhuangzi’s view of the Dao: the Dao is a natural, unconscious, balancing force, not a moralizing, intentional judge.
Question 8: Is This Passage the Words of Lao Dan or Zhuangzi$1
From a textual standpoint, this passage is Lao Dan’s teaching to Nanrong Chu in the Geng Sang Chu chapter. However, are the words in the Zhuangzi truly from Lao Dan$2
Tentative Answer:
This question touches upon the nature of the Zhuangzi text. A large portion of the text uses the words of ancient figures—Confucius, Yan Hui, Lao Dan, the Yellow Emperor, Guang Cheng Zi—as mouthpieces for the ideas of Zhuangzi or his school. These are not the actual words of these historical figures.
However, false attribution does not mean baselessness. Zhuangzi attributing these words to Lao Dan indicates that he believed this thought was continuous with Lao Dan’s learning. Indeed, as previously demonstrated, this passage shows significant correspondence and resonance with the Laozi.
Therefore, it can be said: Formally, this passage is the "Words of Lao Dan"; substantively, it is Zhuangzi's inheritance and expansion of Lao Dan's learning. Concepts like "Yǔ Tài Dìng," "Tiān Guāng," "Tiānmín," and "Tiānzǐ" are Zhuangzi’s original elaborations; yet their core intention—emptiness, non-action, returning to the root, the equilibrium of the Dao—faithfully inherits the learning of Lao Dan.
Question 9: Why Conclude with a Warning ("Tiān Jūn Bài Zhī") Instead of a Blessing$3
This passage describes the beautiful states of cultivation—Heavenly Light, True Person, Tiānmín, Tiānzǐ, the Utmost—why does it conclude not with a blessing or praise, but with the warning, "Tiān Jūn will defeat him"$4
Tentative Answer:
This reflects the profound depth and severity of Zhuangzi’s writing.
The path of cultivation is never smooth. Even after understanding all the principles, the cultivator can deviate from the Heavenly Dao at any moment. Zhuangzi provides many examples of cultivators who failed to achieve complete enlightenment—Lie Yukou’s "light of the form manifested," Song Rongzi’s "still lacking establishment," and the Yellow Emperor’s initial manipulative governance—these are all setbacks and dangers in the process of cultivation.
Concluding with "Tiān Jūn Bài Zhī" is a final reminder to the cultivator: the balancing force of the Heavenly Dao is omnipresent and eternal. Even if you approach the ultimate state, if you deviate in the slightest ("does not immediately conform"), Tiān Jūn will still cause you to fail. Cultivation is always ongoing; one cannot relax vigilance even when nearing the summit.
This also aligns with Laozi Chapter 64:
"The people often fail in their undertakings just when they are about to succeed. If they are as careful at the end as at the beginning, there will be no failure."
"Often fail just when about to succeed" (Cháng Yú Jī Chéng Ér Bài Zhī)—people often fail when they are close to success. "Be as careful at the end as at the beginning" (Shèn Zhōng Rú Shǐ)—treat the end with the same caution as the beginning. Concluding with "Tiān Jūn Bài Zhī" serves the meaning of "cautious ending"—reminding the cultivator not to relax his guard just because he approaches the ultimate state.
Question 10: What is the Practical Relevance of This Passage in the Pre-Qin Context$5
In the historical context of the pre-Qin period, what practical guidance does this passage offer people at that time$6
Tentative Answer:
The era of the pre-Qin period was one of crumbling rites and decaying order, characterized by incessant warfare among feudal lords. The fundamental problem facing scholars was: How to secure one's self in such a chaotic age$7 How to find meaning in life$8
Zhuangzi’s passage offers a path to self-settlement different from those proposed by Confucianism, Mohism, or Legalism:
Do not seek to change the world first; settle the inner self first. Confucianism demands active participation in society to reform the social order; Mohism demands universal love and mutual aid to end warfare; Legalism demands service to the ruler and enforcement of laws. These are all methods of "external settling"—achieving inner peace by changing the external world. Zhuangzi points out: First settle your inner universe (Yǔ Tài Dìng), and the natural light will arise spontaneously (Fā Hū Tiān Guāng), allowing you to see your true self (Rén Jiàn Qí Rén). At this point, no matter how chaotic the external world, your inner self remains settled.
Do not pursue secular success. Secular success—power, wealth, fame—is unstable under the operation of Tiān Jūn. "Things mature and then age" (Wù Zhuàng Zé Lǎo)—any secular success will eventually decline. Instead of pursuing these unstable things, it is better to seek union with the Heavenly Dao—this is the only enduring form of security.
Do not fear worldly abandonment. "People abandon him, and Heaven assists him" (Rén Shě Zhī, Tiān Zhù Zhī)—even if the world forsakes you, the Heavenly Dao is assisting you. This is great comfort and encouragement to the scholar who finds himself without position in a turbulent age.