Biographies of Wandering Knights, No. 64
Han Fei said: “The Confucians disturb the law with their classical texts, while the wandering knights violate prohibitions with their.” Both types are criticized, yet the Confucians are mostly praised by the world. As for those who use craft to secure positions as chancellors or high ministers, assisting the rulers of their time, with achievements and fame recorded in history—there is nothing to say about them. As for men like Ji Ci and Yuan Xian, they were commoners who studied and cherished the virtue of a gentleman who perfects himself alone, holding to righteousness and not conforming to the world, and the people of their time also mocked them. Thus Ji Ci and Yuan Xian lived their whole lives in empty thatched huts, wearing coarse cloth and eating poor food without satisfaction. They have been dead for over four hundred years, yet their disciples still remember them tirelessly. The wandering knights of today, though their actions do not conform to orthodox morality, are always true to their words, decisive in their deeds, sincere in what they promise, and willing to sacrifice their lives to rescue others from danger. After passing through trials of life and death, they do not boast of their abilities, and are ashamed to flaunt their kindness—there is perhaps something worthy of praise in this.
Moreover, urgent troubles are things people often encounter. The Grand Historian says: In ancient times, Shun suffered hardship while repairing granaries and digging wells; Yi Yin carried cauldrons and chopping boards as a cook; Fu Yue hid in the wilds of Fu; Lü Shang was distressed at Ji Ford; Guan Zhong wore fetters and manacles; Baili Xi fed oxen; Confucius was besieged at Kuang and starved in Chen and Cai. These men were all what Confucians call virtuous and benevolent, yet they endured such calamities—how much more so for those of average talent living in a chaotic age at its worst? The disasters they suffer are beyond counting!
There is a common saying: “How can one know what benevolence and righteousness are? Whoever profits himself has virtue.” Thus Bo Yi considered the Zhou dynasty shameful and starved to death on Shouyang Mountain, yet Kings Wen and Wu did not belittle their royal enterprise because of this; Robber Zhi and Zhuang Qiao were cruel and violent, yet their followers forever extol their righteousness. From this it can be seen: “He who steals a hook is executed; he who steals a state becomes a lord; within the lord’s gate, benevolence and righteousness reside”—these are not false words.
Now those pedantic scholars sometimes cling to narrow righteousness and stand alone in the world for a long time—how can this compare to lowering one’s tone, going along with the crowd, and drifting with the times to gain fame and glory? Yet the wandering knights among the common people establish principles of giving and taking and the faithfulness of promises, spreading their righteousness a thousand li away, dying for it without regard for worldly criticism—this too has its merit, and is not something easily done. Thus when scholars are in dire straits, they can entrust their lives to them—is this not what is meant by worthy heroes and extraordinary men? If one were to compare neighborhood wandering knights with Ji Ci and Yuan Xian in terms of power and influence, or weigh their contributions to the times, they cannot be mentioned in the same breath. In sum, in terms of effective deeds and trustworthy speech, how can the righteousness of knights be slighted?
The commoner wandering knights of antiquity can no longer be heard of. In recent times, men like Yanling Jizi, Lord Mengchang, Lord Chunshen, Lord Pingyuan, and Lord Xinling were all royal relatives who, relying on the wealth of their fiefs and high ministerial positions, gathered the world’s talents and made their names known among the various states—they cannot be said not to be worthy. This is like shouting with the wind: the voice is not strengthened, but the wind’s force carries it. As for the wandering knights of the streets and alleys, who cultivate their conduct and polish their reputations, spreading their fame across the world so that none do not praise their worthiness—this is truly difficult. Yet both Confucians and Mohists reject and dismiss them, not recording their deeds. Before the Qin dynasty, commoner wandering knights were lost to obscurity, and I deeply regret this. According to what I have heard, since the rise of the Han dynasty, there have been men like Zhu Jia, Tian Zhong, Wang Gong, Ju Meng, and Guo Xie. Though they often violated the laws of their time, their personal righteousness, incorruptibility, and humble deference are worthy of praise. Reputation is not built on nothing, and scholars do not attach themselves for no reason. As for those who form cliques and conspire together, relying on wealth to oppress the poor, or violent bullies bullying the weak and indulging their desires for their own pleasure—even wandering knights consider these shameful. I lament that worldly people do not examine their true intentions but rashly lump Zhu Jia and Guo Xie together with cruel tyrants and mock them all.
Zhu Jia of Lu lived at the same time as Emperor Gaozu of Han. The people of Lu were all taught by Confucian doctrine, yet Zhu Jia became famous for his knight-errantry. The heroes he sheltered and saved numbered over a hundred, and ordinary people beyond counting. But he never boasted of his abilities or took pride in his kindness, and he dreaded meeting again those he had helped. He relieved others’ needs, starting with the poorest. His own household had no surplus wealth; his clothes were tattered and incomplete; his food was not varied; and he rode only a simple ox-cart. He specialized in others’ urgent needs, valuing them more than his own affairs. He secretly rescued General Ji Bu from danger, but after Ji Bu became honored, he never saw him again for the rest of his life. East of Hangu Pass, everyone craned their necks hoping to befriend him.
Tian Zhong of Chu was famous for his knight-errantry; he loved swordsmanship and served Zhu Jia like a father, considering his own conduct inferior. After Tian Zhong died, there was Ju Meng in Luoyang. The people of Luoyang made their living by trade, but Ju Meng became known among the feudal lords for chivalry. When Wu and Chu rebelled, the Marquis of Tiao, Zhou Yafu, was Grand Commandant. He rode a post-chaise to Henan and, upon obtaining Ju Meng, said joyfully: “Wu and Chu raised a great enterprise without seeking Ju Meng—I know they can achieve nothing.” The realm was in turmoil, and the chancellor gaining him was like gaining an enemy state. Ju Meng’s conduct was broadly similar to Zhu Jia’s, but he loved gambling, mostly youthful games. Yet when Ju Meng’s mother died, funeral carriages from afar numbered about a thousand. When Ju Meng died, his household had no more than ten jin of gold. And Wang Meng of Fuli also became famous for chivalry between the Yangzi and Huai rivers.
At this time, the Jian clan of Jinan and Zhou Yong of Chen were also famous for their violence. Emperor Jing of Han heard of them and sent envoys to execute them all. Afterward, the Bai clan of Dai, Han Wubi of Liang, Xue Xiong of Yangzhai, and Han Ru of Shan emerged one after another.
Guo Xie was a man of Zhi County, styled Wengbo, and was the grandson of the physiognomist Xu Fu. Guo Xie’s father was executed for chivalry during the reign of Emperor Wen of Han. Guo Xie was short in stature, shrewd and fierce, and did not drink alcohol. In his youth, he was cruel at heart, and when displeased, he personally killed many people. He avenged friends with his own body, sheltered fugitives, engaged in illegal robberies, and privately minted coins and robbed graves—countless acts. By heaven’s luck, he often escaped in times of crisis or encountered pardons. When Guo Xie grew older, he changed his ways and restrained his behavior, repaying grievances with kindness, giving much and demanding little. Yet he became even more devoted to chivalry. Having saved others’ lives, he did not boast of his merit, but his innate cruelty still flared up in small matters, just as before. The youths who admired his conduct often avenged him without his knowledge. Guo Xie’s nephew, relying on his uncle’s influence, drank with someone and pressed him to finish his cup. When the man could not, the nephew forced him. The man became angry, drew his sword, and killed Guo Xie’s nephew, then fled. Guo Xie’s sister was furious and said: “With Wengbo’s righteousness, someone killed my son, yet the killer is not caught.” She left the corpse on the road, refusing to bury it, hoping to shame Guo Xie. Guo Xie secretly investigated the killer’s whereabouts. The killer, in desperation, returned and told Guo Xie the whole truth. Guo Xie said: “You killed him—it was right. My nephew was in the wrong.” He then released the killer, blamed his own nephew, and finally buried the corpse. When people heard of this, they all praised Guo Xie’s righteousness and became even more attached to him.
When Guo Jie went out or came in, people would avoid him. There was one man who sat sprawled with his legs apart staring at him. Guo Jie sent someone to ask the man's name. A retainer wanted to kill the man. Guo Jie said, "Living in the same village yet not being respected—this is a failure in my own moral cultivation. What crime has he committed?" So he secretly instructed the bailiff, "This man is someone I care about. When his turn for corvée duty comes, please exempt him." Whenever the corvée duty was due, it came around many times, but the officials never summoned him. The man found it strange and asked the reason, only then learning that Guo Jie had secured his exemption from service. The man who had sat sprawled then bared his upper body to apologize. When the young men heard of this, they admired Guo Jie's conduct even more.
In Luoyang, there were two families feuding. The worthy men and local heroes in the city who tried to mediate numbered several tens, but the feuding parties never heeded them. A retainer then went to see Guo Jie. Guo Jie went to see the feuding families at night, and the enemies reluctantly heeded him. Guo Jie then said to them, "I have heard that the various gentlemen of Luoyang mediated here, and you mostly did not follow them. Now that you have been fortunate enough to follow me, how could I come from another district to snatch away the authority of the worthy men and local heroes in this city?" So he left at night, letting no one know, and said, "For now, do not follow my advice. Wait until I have left, then let the local heroes of Luoyang mediate, and afterward you may follow them."
Guo Jie maintained a respectful demeanor and never dared to ride in a carriage when entering the county offices. When he went to other commanderies or kingdoms, if he acted as an intermediary for someone's request, if the matter could be resolved, he resolved it; if it could not, he fulfilled each party's wishes in some way, and only then would he dare to partake of food and drink. For this reason, everyone greatly respected him and vied to do him service. The young men in the city, as well as the worthy men and local heroes from nearby counties, would often come to his door at midnight with more than ten carriages, begging to take Guo Jie's retainers back to their own homes to support.
When the time came to move the powerful families to Maoling, Guo Jie's family was poor and did not meet the property standard, but the officials were afraid and dared not fail to move them. General Wei spoke on his behalf: "Guo Jie's family is poor and does not meet the standard for relocation." The emperor said, "For a commoner's influence to be such that a general speaks for him—this shows his family is not poor." Guo Jie's family was thus relocated. The people who saw him off contributed over a million in cash. The son of Yang Jizhu of Zhi County, who served as a minor official in the county, had nominated Guo Jie for relocation. The son of Guo Jie's elder brother cut off the Yang official's head. From then on, the Yang family and the Guo family became enemies.
When Guo Jie entered the Guanzhong region, the worthy men and local heroes there, whether they knew him or not, upon hearing his reputation, vied to befriend and entertain him. Guo Jie was short in stature, did not drink, and never rode in a carriage or on horseback when traveling. Later, he also killed Yang Jizhu. Yang Jizhu's family submitted a petition, but someone killed the petitioner at the palace gate. When the emperor heard of this, he ordered the officials to arrest Guo Jie. Guo Jie went into hiding, settling his mother and family in Xiayang, while he himself fled to Linjin. The man of Linjin, Ji Shaogong, had never known Guo Jie. Guo Jie sought an audience under an assumed name, and took the opportunity to request passage through the pass. Ji Shaogong helped Guo Jie through the pass, after which Guo Jie wandered on into Taiyuan, telling his hosts wherever he went. The officials pursuing him traced his trail to Ji Shaogong. Ji Shaogong committed suicide, and the trail of evidence was cut off. After a long time, they finally captured Guo Jie. They thoroughly investigated the crimes he had committed, but all the people Guo Jie had killed were covered by a general amnesty. In Zhi County, a Confucian scholar was sitting with an imperial envoy. Someone praised Guo Jie, but the scholar said, "Guo Jie specializes in using villainy to violate the law—how can he be called worthy?" When Guo Jie's retainers heard this, they killed the scholar and cut out his tongue. The officials thus interrogated Guo Jie, but Guo Jie truly did not know who the killer was. The murderer was never found, and no one knew who he was. The officials submitted a report that Guo Jie was innocent. The imperial secretary, Gongsun Hong, argued: "Guo Jie, as a commoner, practiced knight-errantry and manipulated authority. For minor reasons he caused people to be killed. Although Guo Jie did not know of it, this crime is more severe than if Guo Jie had killed the man himself. He should be judged guilty of high treason." Thereupon, they executed Guo Jie, along with his entire lineage.
From then on, there were very many who practiced knight-errantry, but they were arrogant and rude, not worth mentioning. However, Fan Zhongzi of Chang'an in Guanzhong, Zhao Wangsun of Huaili, Gao Gongzi of Changling, Guo Gongzhong of Xihe, Lu Gongru of Taiyuan, Er Changqing of Linhuai, and Tian Junru of Dongyang—although they practiced knight-errantry, they were humble and cautious, with the demeanor of a gentleman who yields. As for the Yao family of the Northern Road, the various Du families of the Western Road, Qiu Jing of the Southern Road, Zhao Ta and Yu Gongzi of the Eastern Road, and Zhao Tiao of Nanyang—these were merely men of the robber Zhi type mingling among the common people—how could they be worth mentioning! These were precisely the kind that men like Zhu Jia of old found shameful.
The Grand Historian says: I have observed Guo Jie's appearance; it did not even match that of a middling man, and his words were not worth adopting. Yet throughout the empire, whether worthy or unworthy, whether they knew him or not, all admired his reputation, and those who spoke of knights-errant all used him to enhance their own fame. A proverb says: "If a man takes glorious fame as his countenance—can it ever be exhausted!" Alas—what a pity!