Chapter 10 Agriculture and Human Affairs: "Spring Rain Is as Precious as Oil"

1. "Spring Rain Is as Precious as Oil": The Agricultural Significance of Timely Rain

For agrarian civilization, the Yushui solar term carries an irreplaceable importance. The age-old agricultural proverb "spring rain is as precious as oil" captures perfectly how precious spring rain is to agricultural production. Why is spring rain so precious that it should be compared to oil$27

To understand this, we must grasp the crucial position of the Yushui solar term within the agricultural calendar. The Yushui season falls precisely at the critical period when overwintering crops (such as winter wheat) return to green and resume growth, and serves as the prelude to the imminent spring plowing and sowing. At this time, crops and soil, having endured a dry winter, are in a state of extreme need for water. A timely spring rain can moisten the greening wheat seedlings, soften the hard, dry soil, and create the conditions for the coming spring plowing and sowing. It can be said that whether the precipitation of the Yushui season arrives on time and in sufficient quantity bears directly on the start of the year's agricultural production, and in turn on the harvest or famine of the entire year. In ancient society, where agriculture was the very lifeline of existence, it is hardly surprising that such a spring rain—one bearing on life and death—should be compared to "oil," the most precious and scarce of nourishing substances.

At a deeper level, "spring rain is as precious as oil" also embodies a profound apprehension of "timing." Spring rain is precious not only because water itself is precious, but because it arrives "at the right time"—descending precisely when all things need it most. This is exactly the wisdom of "excelling through timeliness," discussed repeatedly in earlier chapters. A rain that falls at the right moment is "sweet rain," as valuable as oil; a rain that falls at the wrong moment (such as prolonged drizzle during the harvest) becomes a calamity. Thus the ancients' prayers for rain were never simply prayers for "rain to fall," but prayers for "timely rain"—rain arriving at the proper season, in the proper amount. This extreme sensitivity to "timing" is precisely the survival wisdom that agrarian civilization honed through its long coexistence with Heaven and Earth.

2. Agricultural Timing and Rain in the Book of Songs: The Ancients' Memory of Farming

The Book of Songs (Shijing), as an encyclopedia of pre-Qin agrarian life, preserves a wealth of precious memories concerning agricultural timing and rain.

"Seventh Month," in the "Airs of Bin" section of the Book of Songs, is a lengthy poem depicting the farming work of the four seasons in detail. It contains the lines "On the days of the third month, we repair the plowshares; on the days of the fourth month, we lift our feet into the fields"—in the first month we repair our farming tools, in the second month we go out to plow the fields. Here, "the days of the third month" and "the days of the fourth month," reckoned by the Zhou calendar, correspond roughly to the period from around Yushui through Jingzhe and the Spring Equinox—precisely the season when spring plowing begins. That this spring plowing could commence at all depended precisely on the spring rain around the Yushui solar term moistening the soil. "Seventh Month," with its plain and simple brushwork, records how the ancients accorded with the timing of Heaven, beginning a year's agricultural labor with the arrival of the spring rains.

"The Great Field" (Fu Tian), in the "Lesser Odes" section of the Book of Songs, contains the lines: "We pray for sweet rain, to aid our millet and grain, to nourish our men and women." We pray for sweet, beautiful rain, to help our crops grow, to sustain our people. This "praying for sweet rain" is precisely the ancients' devout prayer for timely rain during the season of spring plowing. The two characters "sweet rain" (ganyu) are especially worth savoring—rain itself has no flavor, so why call it "sweet"$28 Because, in the eyes of parched seedlings and anxious farmers, that spring rain which nourishes life and brings hope of a good harvest is as sweet as nectar. The "sweetness" in "sweet rain" and "sweet dew" (ganlin) is the ancients' deeply felt expression, in terms of taste, of gratitude for the grace of rain.

"The Great Field" (Da Tian), also in the "Lesser Odes," contains the lines: "The clouds gather thick and heavy, and the rain falls steadily. May it rain on our public fields, and then extend to our private fields." The clouds hang thick and dark, and rain falls in a steady drizzle. The rain moistens the public fields, and also extends to moisten my private fields. These lines are among the most beautiful passages in the Book of Songs describing spring rain nourishing the fields. "May it rain on our public fields, and then extend to our private fields"—the rain moistens the public fields first, and only then the private fields—this both reflects the well-field land system of the time, and reveals the ancients' apprehension of rain's virtue of "universal impartiality": rain nourishes the earth without distinguishing public from private, extending itself universally to all. This is precisely the embodiment, within the Book of Songs, of that virtue of "rain and dew shared equally" discussed in earlier chapters.

3. The Yu Sacrifice, Praying for Rain: A Solemn Human Petition to Heaven

Given how important rain was to agriculture, what did the ancients do when rain failed to come and the land suffered drought$1 The answer was to hold the grand "Yu sacrifice" (yuji)—a ritual dedicated specifically to praying for rain.

The Yu sacrifice was the most important rain-praying rite of the pre-Qin period. The "Office of Spring: Shaman-Officiant" chapter of the Rites of Zhou records: "If the state suffers a great drought, then the officiant leads the shamans in the rain dance." If the state suffered a great drought, the shamans would be led in a dance to pray for rain. The "Monthly Ordinances" chapter of the Book of Rites likewise records that, if drought occurred in the mid-summer month, "orders are then given to the hundred districts to hold the Yu sacrifice to the hundred lords and ministers who benefited the people, in order to pray for a bountiful harvest of grain"—orders were issued for localities everywhere to hold the Yu sacrifice, offering sacrifice to those former worthy ministers who had once benefited the people, in order to pray for an abundant harvest of the five grains.

The core of the Yu sacrifice was to pray to the spirits of Heaven and Earth for rainfall through solemn ritual (including song, dance, sacrifice, and prayer). Why did the ancients believe rain could be "sought" through ritual$2 Behind this lay the conviction of "resonance between Heaven and humanity"—if people prayed to Heaven with utmost sincerity, Heaven would be moved by their sincerity and send down sweet rain. The Yu sacrifice was, in essence, a solemn "dialogue" between humanity and Heaven: with the most devout bearing, people expressed to Heaven their yearning for rain and their hope for Heaven's grace, awaiting Heaven's response to this sincerity.

The "Xian Jin" chapter of the Analects records a scene, related to the Yu sacrifice, of extraordinary beauty. The Master asked his disciples each to speak of their aspirations, and Zeng Dian (Zeng Xi) said: "In the closing days of spring, when the spring garments are already made, together with five or six young men and six or seven boys, I would bathe in the Yi River, enjoy the breeze at the Rain Dance altar, and return home singing." In the closing days of spring, with spring garments already on, gathering five or six grown men and six or seven boys, to bathe in the Yi River, enjoy the breeze atop the Rain Dance altar, and then return home singing. Upon hearing this, the Master sighed deeply: "I am with Dian!"—I share Zeng Dian's aspiration!

This scene, though seemingly unrelated to praying for rain, is in fact deeply meaningful. The "Rain Dance altar" (wuyu) is precisely the raised platform on which the Yu sacrifice was performed. What Zeng Dian longed for was, in the closing days of spring, when the spring rains had already been sufficient and all things were growing, to go to that rain-praying altar to enjoy the spring breeze and return home singing—a picture of perfect harmony and shared joy between humanity and Heaven and Earth. It reveals the ultimate destination of the Yu sacrifice (praying for rain): not humanity's demand upon Heaven, but harmonious coexistence between humanity and Heaven. Once rain was abundant and all things flourished, that altar once used for anxious rain-prayers became instead a paradise where people could enjoy the grace of Heaven and Earth and merge with nature. The reason the Master was "with Dian" is precisely that this scene embodied the highest state of "uniting one's virtue with Heaven and Earth, uniting one's order with the four seasons"—and the precondition for all of this was precisely rain arriving on time and in sufficient measure.

4. Yushui and the Rhythm of Agricultural Work: Acting in Accord with the Timing of Heaven

The position of the Yushui solar term within the entire rhythm of agricultural work embodies the ancients' agrarian wisdom of "acting in accord with the timing of Heaven."

Beginning with the Yushui solar term, agricultural work enters an entirely new phase. The Beginning of Spring marks the start of spring, but true spring plowing often must wait until after Yushui—for only once spring rain has moistened the soil does plowing become possible. After Yushui comes Jingzhe (when spring thunder first sounds and hibernating creatures are startled awake), and then the Spring Equinox (when day and night are equal); agricultural work unfolds progressively through this sequence of solar terms: preparing the soil, applying fertilizer, sowing seed, raising seedlings... each item of agricultural work is closely tied to the climatic characteristics of its corresponding solar term.

This agrarian rhythm of "acting in accord with the timing of Heaven" profoundly embodies the realization, in productive practice, of the pre-Qin cosmology of "the unity of Heaven and humanity." Farmers did not arrange their agricultural work according to subjective preference, but strictly "acted according to Heaven"—watching the solar terms, watching phenology, watching the rains. Only once Yushui arrived and the soil was moistened would they go out to the fields; only once plants and trees began to sprout would they know that spring had truly deepened; only once spring thunder sounded would they know it was time to guard against pests. Every item of agricultural work was a faithful response to the timing of Heaven. This absolute accordance with the timing of Heaven was not passive resignation, but a profound wisdom—it recognized that human productive activity must be embedded within the great rhythm of Heaven and Earth's operation, and that only by moving in step with Heaven and Earth could the best harvest be obtained. The Yushui solar term, as the starting point of spring plowing, is precisely a crucial link in this wisdom of "acting in accord with the timing of Heaven."