Chapter 18: The Pursuit of "Why" — Philosophical Puzzles of Guyu

Section 1: Why "Rain Gives Birth to the Hundred Grains," Rather Than "Grain Awaits Rain in Order to Be Born"$1

The core meaning of Guyu is "rain giving birth to the hundred grains." But upon closer examination, the word order and phrasing of this saying themselves carry profound significance. Why do the ancients say "rain gives birth to the hundred grains" (with "rain" as the subject, actively "giving birth to" the hundred grains), rather than "grain obtains rain and is thereby born," or "grain awaits rain in order to be born" (with "grain" as the subject, passively awaiting the rain)$2

Although the Qunfangpu does indeed contain the phrase "the grain obtains rain and is born" (with grain as the subject), the expression that has circulated most widely and struck deepest into people's hearts remains "rain gives birth to the hundred grains" (with rain as the subject). This choice of word order is by no means arbitrary. "Rain gives birth to the hundred grains" places "rain" in the active, bestowing, creative position—it is rain that "gives birth to" the hundred grains; rain is the cause, the driving force, the creator.

Behind this lies the ancients' profound apprehension of Heaven's active bestowal of grace: in the relationship between Heaven and humanity, Heaven is not passively "sought after," but actively "bestows"—it actively sends down rain, actively "gives birth to" the hundred grains, actively nurtures the multitude.

This conception of "Heaven actively bestowing grace" is precisely the shared foundation of the Confucian "humaneness of Heaven and Earth" and the Daoist "the highest good is like water," "excelling in benefiting the ten thousand things." Placing "rain" in the active position of "giving birth to the hundred grains" is, grammatically, to establish that active, generous grace that Heaven bestows upon humanity without waiting to be asked. The saying "rain gives birth to the hundred grains" is thus not merely a description of farm work, but a fundamental assertion about "how Heaven treats humanity"—Heaven is something that actively "gives birth to" and nurtures the ten thousand things; between Heaven and humanity, Heaven is the party that actively bestows grace. This is the deepest philosophy of Heaven and humanity concealed within the plainest phrasing of Guyu's very name.

Section 2: Why Must the Origin of Writing Be Bound to "Rained Millet"$3

Cangjie's invention of writing, whereupon "Heaven rained down millet," is one of Guyu's strangest connections. But we must ask: among all possible "auspicious omens," why did the ancients choose precisely "rained millet" (grain descending from the sky) to symbolize the origin of writing$4 Why not "Heaven sending down sweet dew," "the phoenix arriving in ceremony," "an auspicious star appearing," or other more common auspicious signs$5

Behind this lies the ancients' deepest intuition about the essential nature of "writing"—they intuitively equated "writing" with a kind of "grain." Grain nourishes the body; writing nourishes the mind. Grain allows physical life to continue; writing allows the life of civilization to continue.

As discussed earlier, "gu 穀 means continuation"—grain is the "continuation" of life; and is writing not, likewise, the "continuation" of civilization$6 Without writing, the wisdom of earlier generations arises and vanishes with each generation, and civilization cannot carry forward; with writing, wisdom can be recorded and transmitted, and civilization can continue, generation after generation, just as grain ripens year after year. And so, in the ancients' deep intuition, writing and grain belong to one and the same category—both are "grain" that allows "life (whether physical life or the life of civilization) to continue."

Precisely for this reason, the origin of writing had to be marked by the omen of "rained millet"—for writing was, after all, another kind of "millet" sent down by Heaven to humanity, for the sake of continuing civilization. That the ancients chose "rained millet," rather than some other auspicious sign, was precisely meant to make clear: the birth of writing was a fundamental event, comparable to "Heaven sending down grain," bearing upon the survival of humanity (of civilization).

The precision and profundity of this choice is truly admirable—it establishes, between "writing" and "grain," the plainest yet most essential equation: both are "grain that continues life," one continuing the physical body, the other continuing civilization. And Guyu's "rain giving birth to the hundred grains" is precisely the other end of this equation—what it brings forth is precisely the material grain that continues physical life. Sacrificing to Cangjie at Guyu is thus a way of celebrating, within a single solar term, the descent of these "two kinds of grain" at once.

Section 3: Why Must the Solar Term of Late Spring Be Matched with Hexagram Guai's "Resolving"$7

Guyu (the chen month) is matched with hexagram Guai, and "Guai" means "resolving" (jue). But "resolving" is a rather fierce, rather conflict-laden character (to resolve away, to decide, to burst through). Yet the impression that late-spring Guyu gives is plainly one of gentle moistening (rain), of generative growth (giving birth to the hundred grains), of soft mildness (moistening things in silence). Why should such a gentle, moist solar term be matched with such a fierce hexagram of "resolving"$8

This seemingly contradictory pairing reveals precisely a "vigorous firmness" at the depths of Guyu, a nature obscured by outward appearance. On the surface, Guyu is gentle and moist; but within, a vigorous "decisive battle" is underway—yang resolving away yin, warmth resolving away cold, growth resolving away destruction, brightness resolving away darkness.

"At Qingming, snow ceases; at Guyu, frost ceases"—that "ceasing" of frost is precisely a kind of firm resolution—warm qi, with unstoppable force, resolves away the last frosty chill of the departing winter. The first sprouting of duckweed, the coaxing forth of grain, the ten thousand things "all coming forth from their curled state, all extending from their sprouting state"—behind this seemingly gentle vitality lies the vigorous force of yang qi, in its fivefold abundance, resolving away that last portion of remnant yin.

Thus hexagram Guai's "resolving" reveals the dual nature of Guyu—"yielding on the outside, firm within": its "function" is yielding (moistening things, bringing forth grain), yet its "substance" is firm (resolving away yin, ending the cold). The gentle rain, the mild vitality, are the outward appearance; while the vigorous, unstoppable force of yang, driving all of this—resolving away the remnant yin, urging spring into summer—is the true core.

This corresponds precisely to the Book of Changes' statement, "Guai means resolving, the firm resolving away the yielding," and "vigorous yet joyous, resolving yet remaining harmonious"—enacting the joyous function (Dui) through the vigorous substance (Qian); accomplishing the yielding of grain's birth through the firmness of resolving away yin. Matching Guyu with Guai is precisely meant to reveal: behind the most gentle nurturing (rain giving birth to the hundred grains) operates precisely the most vigorous Way of Heaven (the firm resolving away the yielding). Yielding and firmness, moistening and resolving, are here at Guyu, at bottom, two faces of a single whole.

Section 4: Why Are Guyu's Phenological Markers Precisely "Duckweed, the Cuckoo, and the Hoopoe"$9

Guyu's three pentads—duckweed begins to grow, the cuckoo flaps its wings, the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry—why were precisely these three chosen, rather than some other phenological signs$10 This is by no means arbitrary; there lies within it an exquisite inner logic.

Examining these three pentads closely, we find that they cover precisely three different levels, together constituting a complete "picture of late spring":

First, "duckweed begins to grow" is a plant within water, announcing "the water has warmed"—this confirms, on the level of "water," Guyu's warmth and vitality (echoing "at Guyu, frost ceases"). Second, "the cuckoo flaps its wings" is a bird in the air (centered on sound), announcing "the farming season"—this urges, on the level of "sound," Guyu's plowing and sowing (the cuckoo urging the plowing). Third, "the hoopoe descends upon the mulberry" is a bird among the mulberry trees (centered on behavior), announcing "the work of silkworms"—this opens, on the level of "mulberry," Guyu's mulberry-tending and silkworm-rearing (the hoopoe descending upon the mulberry).

Water, sound, mulberry; plant, birdcall, bird behavior; confirmation of warmth, urging of plowing, beginning of silkworms—the three pentads, from three different domains, in three different ways, cross-verify and unfold the entirety of Guyu's themes. More marvelous still, these three pentads correspond precisely to Guyu's three great pillars: duckweed's growth responds to "rain" (the image of warming water, echoing rain's generative power); the cuckoo's call responds to "grain" (urging the plowing and sowing of grain); the hoopoe's descent responds to "mulberry" (sericulture and women's work).

Rain, grain, mulberry—Guyu's three fundamentals (Heaven's grace, food, and clothing)—are matched, one to one, exactly and completely, by these three pentads, neither more nor fewer. That the ancients, among the countless phenomena of late spring, selected precisely these three as Guyu's markers is precisely because only the combination of these three could most completely, most precisely summarize the entire meaning of Guyu—"rain moistening, grain growing, mulberry flourishing." In this selection of phenology, we may see the precision of the ancients' observation and the depth of their distillation.

Section 5: Why Did the Ancients Bind "Farming" and "Writing" to the Same Solar Term$11

This is the deepest, and also the most distinctive, "why" of Guyu: among all the solar terms, Guyu alone binds together the most "concrete" of matters, farming (rain giving birth to the hundred grains), with the most "cultural" of matters, writing (Cangjie's invention of writing). Why$12

Because, in the deepest wisdom of the ancients, "farming" and "writing" are the two great cornerstones of civilization, neither dispensable, and essentially connected. Farming resolves humanity's "survival"—it allows the physical body to continue; writing accomplishes humanity's "civilization"—it allows wisdom to be transmitted. One allows humanity to "stay alive"; the other allows humanity to "live meaningfully, with continuity." One is material, the other spiritual; one nourishes the body, the other the mind; together they support the entire foundation of what makes humanity human, and what makes civilization civilization.

And binding these two cornerstones to Guyu is precisely because Guyu's image of "rained grain" in "rain giving birth to the hundred grains" can encompass both at once—the "grain" in the field is the grain that nourishes the body, and Cangjie's "writing (rained millet)" is the grain that nourishes the mind; both alike are "grain sent down by Heaven."

The ancients, taking this image of "rained grain" as their pivot, fused together farming and writing, survival and civilization, body and mind, within this single solar term of Guyu, precisely to express a most complete conviction about "what civilization is": a complete civilization must be a unity of "food" and "writing"—it must have both the five grains that sustain life, and the writing that transmits wisdom; it must rely both on the humaneness of Heaven and Earth's nurturing (rain giving birth to the hundred grains) and cherish the achievement of the sages' creation (Cangjie's invention of writing).

Guyu thus becomes, among the twenty-four solar terms, the only one that celebrates, simultaneously, both "the humaneness of Heaven and Earth nurturing the body" and "the achievement of human culture nurturing the mind." Within a single rain of late spring, it harmoniously unites the two most fundamental questions—"how humanity lives" and "how humanity lives with civilization." This is precisely the most distinctive, most profound cultural character of Guyu among all the solar terms.