The Highest Good Is Like Water: The Nourishing Virtue of Yushui and How Heaven-One Begets Water
This article offers a deep reading of Yushui (Rain Water) among the Twenty-Four Solar Terms, drawing on pre-Qin Confucian and Daoist philosophy, etymology, and astronomical phenology. Through an examination of the original meanings of the characters "雨" (rain) and "水" (water), the astronomical positioning of the sun at 330° of celestial longitude, and the three phenological signs of the term, combined with Laozi's teaching that 'the highest good is like water,' Guanzi's view of water as the origin of all things, and the Book of Changes' vision of Heaven-One begetting water and clouds moving to bring forth rain, the essay reveals the virtue of water and the meaning—between Heaven and humanity—of spring rain nourishing all things.
Chapter 3 The First Month of Spring in the "Monthly Ordinances" of the Book of Rites: A Complete Cosmic Picture
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 Yushui and of the first month of spring in which it falls belongs to the "Monthly Ordinances" (Yueling) chapter of the Book of Rites (its content is highly consistent with the "Almanac of the First Month of Spring" in the Lüshi Chunqiu, and scholars generally hold the two to 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, how the celestial phenomena stand, how things on earth stand, and how human affairs ought to be conducted.
We must first clarify a framework of time. The Yushui solar term falls within the "first month" (zhengyue), that is, the "yin month," and belongs to the "first month of spring" (mengchun). Here we must distinguish two calendrical concepts. Within the system of solar terms, the Beginning of Spring marks the astronomical starting point of spring; whereas within the Xia calendar, which takes the "establishment of yin" as the first month, the first month (yin month) is the start of the year. Yushui, as the "central qi" solar term within the yin month, together with the Beginning of Spring (the "node qi" solar term of the yin month), forms the two solar terms of the first month of spring. The first month of spring described in the "Monthly Ordinances" is precisely the complete cosmic picture of the month in which Yushui falls.
The "Monthly Ordinances" opens by sketching a complete astronomical picture of the first month of spring: "In the first month of spring, the sun is in the lodge Yingshi; at dusk, the Can constellation culminates; at dawn, the Wei constellation culminates." It then describes the Five Phases attributes of the first month of spring—a master key for understanding the cultural meaning of Yushui:
"Its days are jia and yi; its sovereign is Taihao; its attendant spirit is Goumang; its creatures are the scaly ones; its note is jue; its number is eight; its flavor is sour; its smell is rank; its sacrifice is at the door, and the spleen is offered first."
This passage constructs an exceedingly precise system of cosmic correspondences. Let us examine it item by item, to see the manner in which the entire cosmos operates during the season of Yushui.
2. The Five Phases Correspondences of the First Month of Spring, Explained in Detail
"Its days are jia and yi"—the first month of spring corresponds to jia and yi among the Heavenly Stems. Among the ten Heavenly Stems, jia and yi belong to Wood. Why$27 Because the correspondence between the ten Heavenly Stems and the Five Phases is as follows: 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), and ren and gui belong to Water (winter). This system of correspondence links time (the Heavenly Stems) with material qualities (the Five Phases), forming one of the basic frameworks of pre-Qin cosmology. Yushui belongs to spring, and so its days are jia and yi, and its phase is Wood—the Wood of spring is precisely what sprouts forth after inheriting the Water of winter. "Water begets Wood" is a crucial link in the mutual-generation sequence of the Five Phases: the water accumulated in winter (the water that begins flowing again at the Yushui solar term) is precisely the wellspring that nourishes the growth of spring's plants and trees. The picture of Water and Wood mutually generating one another during the Yushui season is already foreshadowed in this single correspondence.
"Its sovereign is Taihao"—the ruling sovereign of the first month of spring is Taihao (that is, Fuxi). Within the system correlating the Five Phases with the Five Sovereigns, the sovereign of spring is Taihao (Wood virtue), the sovereign of summer is the Flame Sovereign (Fire virtue), the sovereign of the center is the Yellow Sovereign (Earth virtue), the sovereign of autumn is Shaohao (Metal virtue), and the sovereign of winter is Zhuanxu (Water virtue). Taihao is traditionally said to be the ancient sage-king who created the Eight Trigrams, taught the people fishing and hunting, and established the institution of marriage. Why is Taihao the ruler of spring$28 The character "hao" (皞) in "Taihao" carries the sense of brightness and vastness, symbolizing the scene of winter's departure and spring's arrival, of yang qi's first flourishing, of all things returning to brightness.
"Its attendant spirit is Goumang"—the assisting spirit of the first month of spring is Goumang. Goumang is, in ancient myth, the spirit of Wood and of spring. "Gou" (句) means "curved" or "bent"; "mang" (芒) means the sharp tip of a newly sprouted plant. Together, the two characters "Goumang" depict precisely the shape of a seed as it germinates—curving as it pushes upward, its sharp tip just beginning to show. This is precisely the phenological sign of "plants and trees beginning to sprout" at the Yushui solar term, crystallized into the very name of a spirit. The name "Goumang" is itself a picture of spring rain nourishing all things and tender shoots breaking through the soil. That the ancients took "Goumang" as the name of the spirit of spring shows how closely they observed, and how deeply they grasped, the phenomenon of plants and trees sprouting into life.
"Its creatures are the scaly ones"—the representative category of creatures for the first month of spring is the "scaly creatures," that is, things covered in scales, chiefly referring to fish. In the pre-Qin fivefold system of classifying animals, all creatures were divided into: scaly creatures (fish, corresponding to spring), feathered creatures (birds, corresponding to summer), naked creatures (humans, corresponding to the center), furred creatures (beasts, corresponding to autumn), and shelled creatures (crustaceans, corresponding to winter). One important reason scaly creatures correspond to spring is directly related to the phenology of Yushui: during the Yushui season, ice and snow melt, rivers thaw, and fish begin actively swimming up toward the surface. This is precisely the precondition for the first of Yushui's three phenological signs—"the otter lays out fish"—to occur: it is only because fish become active in the spring waters that the otter has fish to catch. The correspondence of scaly creatures with spring and the phenological sign of "the otter lays out fish" at Yushui thus form an intrinsic echo of one another.
"Its note is jue"—the musical note of the first month of spring is "jue." Among the Five Notes (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu), the jue note corresponds to Wood and to spring. The jue note has a clear, resonant quality, tinged with a sense of germination, corresponding to the atmosphere of spring, when all things sprout and vitality bursts forth. The ancients believed that each season had its own particular "sound"—that in spring, the vibrational frequency of the qi of Heaven and Earth resonated with the jue note. What a marvelous imagination this is: it links acoustics with cosmology, holding that a "resonance" transcending mere matter exists between Heaven and Earth. During the Yushui season, the pattering of spring rain, the first thawing of the streams, the faint trembling of tender shoots—all these subtle sounds, to the ancients' ears, harmonized with that clear, resonant jue note.
"Its number is eight"—the numerological symbol of the first 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, and five and ten to Earth. The "generative number" of Wood is three, and its "completion number" is eight, and so eight is assigned to spring. It is worth noting that Wood's generative number is three and completion number is eight, while Water's generative number is one and completion number is six. The Yushui solar term falls precisely at the crucial juncture of the transition from Water (winter) to Wood (spring), and its numbers pass from "Water's one and six" to "Wood's three and eight"—this numerical transition corresponds precisely to the transformation in the essential nature of the season.
"Its flavor is sour"—the flavor of the first month of spring is sour. Among the Five Flavors (sour, bitter, sweet, pungent, salty), their correspondence to the Five Phases is: sour belongs to Wood (spring), bitter to Fire (summer), sweet to Earth (late summer), pungent to Metal (autumn), and salty to Water (winter). Why does sourness belong to Wood, to spring$29 One explanation holds that sourness has an astringent, saliva-inducing quality, and that spring—when plants and trees first sprout and their sap first stirs—calls precisely for that tart yet vitality-laden state. The sourness of the plum, the tartness of a new shoot, both carry that spring-specific quality of not-yet-ripened germination.
"Its smell is rank"—the smell of the first month of spring is rank (shan). Among the Five Smells (rank, scorched, fragrant, fishy, putrid), the rank smell corresponds to Wood and to spring. Rankness is the odor of grass-eating animals, and spring is precisely the season in which plants and trees first sprout, allowing herbivores to forage anew. That the rank smell is assigned to spring reflects a distinctive perception the ancients held of spring's particular scent.
"Its sacrifice is at the door"—the object of sacrifice in the first month of spring is the "spirit of the door." The door (hu) is the entryway of a dwelling. Why is sacrifice offered to the door in spring$30 Because spring is the season of beginning, the season of moving from within (the closed storage of winter) to without (the germination of spring). The door is precisely the boundary between inside and outside, the passage of entry and exit. In spring, the ten thousand things move from being closed away to being opened up, just as a person moves from within the door to outside it. Taking the "door" as the object of sacrifice in the first month of spring symbolizes the reopening of that gate of life which turns from closure to openness, from storage to germination—an image that resonates deeply with the Yushui-season phenomenon of "plants and trees beginning to sprout," of vital force breaking through the soil.
"The spleen is offered first"—the organ first presented in sacrifice is the spleen. In the correspondence between the five viscera and the Five Phases, pre-Qin sources offer differing accounts. Here, the "Monthly Ordinances" assigns the spleen to spring, differing from the later medical tradition, which assigns the liver to Wood and to spring. This reflects differences in the pre-Qin system of Five Phases correspondences across different periods and different schools. But whatever the specific assignment, the logic behind it is consistent: each organ of the body corresponds to some level of the cosmos, and offering a particular organ in sacrifice expresses the resonance between the human body and Heaven and Earth.
3. Why Does the "Monthly Ordinances" Construct Such a Precise System of Correspondences$31
Reflecting on the analysis above, we cannot help but ask: why does the Monthly Ordinances devote such extensive space to constructing this precise system of cosmic correspondences$32 Would it not suffice simply to know that "spring has come, and rain is on the way"$33
The answer is this: for the ancients, merely knowing that "spring has come" was far from sufficient. What they needed to know was this—behind this season of the first spring rains, in what manner does the entire cosmos operate$34 The constellations above, the plants and trees on the earth, the fish swimming in the water, the spleen within the human body, the sourness of food, the jue note of sound... how is everything threaded through and connected by one and the same force (the germinating qi of spring Wood)$35
This drive to seek what "runs through all as one" is one of the most salient features of pre-Qin thought. The Master says: "My Way is that of an all-pervading unity" (Analects, "Li Ren"). This "all-pervading unity" is not merely an ethical principle, but a cosmological conviction—that although the ten thousand things of Heaven and Earth differ endlessly from one another, a single unified law runs beneath them all. The system of cosmic correspondences constructed by the Monthly Ordinances is precisely the concrete expression of this conviction. During the Yushui season, this unified law is "the germination of Wood qi"—and what drives the germination of Wood qi is precisely that spring rain which descends from Heaven and nourishes the earth. Water begets Wood; rain nourishes all things; and the entire cosmic picture of the first month of spring, in the final analysis, unfolds around "the nourishment of water."
4. The Son of Heaven's Conduct and Governance in the First Month of Spring: Ruling in Accordance with the Season
The Monthly Ordinances lays out exceedingly detailed regulations for the conduct of the Son of Heaven in the first month of spring: "The Son of Heaven dwells in the left apartment of the Bright Hall of Green Yang; he rides in the luan-bell chariot, drawn by the azure dragon-horses; he displays azure banners, wears azure robes, and adorns himself with azure jade; he eats wheat and mutton; his vessels are open-worked and finely wrought."
In the first month of spring, the Son of Heaven should dwell in the "left apartment of Green Yang" on the eastern side of the Bright Hall, ride in a chariot fitted with luan-bells, drive azure dragon-horses ("canglong" meaning the azure dragon), fly azure banners, wear azure robes, adorn himself with azure jade, eat wheat and mutton, and use vessels of open, penetrating pattern.
Why should the Son of Heaven wear azure, fly azure banners, and drive azure dragons in spring$36 This is no matter of aesthetic preference, but a cosmological requirement—spring belongs to Wood, and the color of Wood is azure. As the intermediary between Heaven and Earth, everything the Son of Heaven does must remain in accord with the cosmic law proper to that season. Wearing azure is not for beauty's sake, but to resonate with the "Wood virtue" of Heaven and Earth, thereby ensuring harmony between Heaven and humanity. "His vessels are open-worked and finely wrought"—the open, penetrating pattern of the vessels symbolizes the unfolding of yang qi in spring, the state in which all things grow freely and without obstruction.
The Monthly Ordinances then sets out the most important rite of the first month of spring: "In this month occurs the Beginning of Spring. Three days before the Beginning of Spring, the Grand Astrologer reports to the Son of Heaven, saying: 'On such-and-such a day is the Beginning of Spring; the fullness of virtue lies in Wood.' The Son of Heaven then fasts and purifies himself. On the day of the Beginning of Spring, the Son of Heaven personally leads the Three Dukes, the Nine Ministers, the feudal lords, and the great officers to welcome spring at the eastern suburbs."
Spring is welcomed at the eastern suburbs—because the East belongs to Wood, and spring comes from the East. Welcoming spring at the eastern suburbs, welcoming summer at the southern suburbs, welcoming autumn at the western suburbs, welcoming winter at the northern suburbs: the directions for welcoming each of the four seasons strictly follow the system of the Five Phases' directional correspondences.
What bears directly on the Yushui solar term is the Monthly Ordinances' regulation of governance in the first month of spring, whose core spirit is "to give life and not to kill, to bestow and not to seize, to reward and not to punish." The Monthly Ordinances explicitly forbids, in spring, any act that would destroy vital growth: "Forbid the felling of trees; do not overturn nests; do not kill young insects, pregnant animals, newborn creatures, or flying birds; do not take fawns, and do not take eggs." That is: felling trees is forbidden; nests must not be overturned; young insects, pregnant female animals, newborn young, and birds in flight must not be killed; fawns must not be caught, nor bird eggs taken.
Why are such acts strictly forbidden in spring$37 Because spring is the season of "life-giving"; the Way of Heaven and Earth in this season is one of "nurturing life," not of "killing and cutting down." Rain water nourishes all things and rouses plants and trees into growth; Heaven's bearing is generous, giving, and protective of life. As the Son of Heaven follows the Way of Heaven, he too should, in this season, display protection of life and generosity in giving. During Yushui—this season in which spring rain nourishes all things and all creatures revive—any act of killing or destruction runs counter to Heaven, and must inevitably invite calamity. This principle of "ruling in accordance with the season" elevates the protection of nature's vital force from a mere moral choice to a cosmic law.
5. The Monthly Ordinances' Warning: The Consequences of Enacting Untimely Ordinances
Having described what ought to be done in the first month of spring, the Monthly Ordinances also issues a stern warning of the consequences of improper conduct:
"If, in the first month of spring, the ordinances of summer are enacted, then rain will fall out of season, plants and trees will wither prematurely, and the state will suffer periodic alarm. If the ordinances of autumn are enacted, the people will suffer great plague, whirlwinds and violent storms will arrive together, and weeds and brambles will flourish everywhere. If the ordinances of winter are enacted, flooding will cause ruin, snow and frost will strike heavily, and the first sowing will fail to take root."
Pay particular attention to the first sentence: "If, in the first month of spring, the ordinances of summer are enacted, then rain will fall out of season." If the ordinances proper to summer are enacted during the first month of spring, this will cause "rain to fall out of season"—that is, precipitation will lose its proper rhythm, plants and trees will wither prematurely, and the state will suffer periodic alarm. This is an extremely important record among pre-Qin texts, one in which the two characters "雨水" (rain water) are directly linked to seasonal timing and governance. It reveals a profound conviction of the ancients: whether or not rain arrives in a timely manner depends not only on nature, but on human affairs as well. If governance runs counter to the proper timing of Heaven, the qi of Heaven and Earth falls out of balance, and rain becomes "untimely"—failing to fall when it should, or falling in disorder when it should not.
Why should this be so$38 This rests on a core conviction: each season possesses its own particular "qi," and the nature of governance likewise possesses its own particular "qi." The ordinances of summer pertain to "growth" and "release"; the ordinances of autumn pertain to "gathering" and "cutting down"; the ordinances of winter pertain to "storage" and "closure." If, in spring (the season of "life-giving"), the ordinances of summer are enacted, this causes a misalignment between the two qi of "life-giving" and "growth," thereby triggering disorder in the climate—"rain falling out of season" is precisely the most direct manifestation of this disorder. "If the ordinances of autumn are enacted, whirlwinds and violent storms will arrive together"—enacting the ordinances of autumn brings on fierce winds and violent rainstorms together; "if the ordinances of winter are enacted, flooding will cause ruin"—enacting the ordinances of winter causes flooding and disaster. Without exception, all three of these warnings concern disorder related to "water": either rain falling out of season, or violent storms arriving together, or flooding causing ruin. This is by no means coincidental—it shows precisely that, in the first month of spring, in the season of Yushui, "water" is the most sensitive and crucial indicator of the qi of Heaven and Earth. Whether water is in accord or in disorder bears on the year's harvest or famine, on the safety or peril of all under Heaven.
From a modern standpoint, this causal relationship is of course without scientific basis. But understood from another angle, these warnings in the Monthly Ordinances contain a profound political wisdom: governance ought to have its own rhythm, and ought to accord with the objective needs of nature and society. In spring, when all things need to grow, the ruler ought to make "nurturing life" his task, rather than imposing heavy exactions or waging campaigns of slaughter. Though this wisdom is packaged within the framework of resonance between Heaven and humanity, its core insight retains value even today.