In keeping with folk traditions, every Spring Festival Hong Kongers will make their way to the Che Kung Temple in Sha Tin to draw a divination lot (求签), a practice reminiscent of the ancient Chinese divination zhanbu (占卜), and to hear the oracle’s guidance for the year.
Some people believe that divination is but a superstition devoid of scientific justification. Just like the “fortunes” in the fortune cookies distributed at Chinese restaurants in the US, nobody knows who penned the divination lots, so how can anyone believe them?
Yet, drawing divination lots at the Che Kung Temple on the second day of the Chinese New Year is a longstanding practice and has become a deep-rooted folk custom — the Hong Kong people long and wait for a decree from the heavens every year, turning it into a big event.
A fortune that is neither good nor bad
Besides, people lived in fear and anxiety when the Covid-19 pandemic and the Omicron variant ravaged the world. Not knowing when they can see light at the end of the tunnel, they have all the more reason to turn to the gods for a good lot to at least comfort and soothe the collective trauma that has haunted them over the past few years.
The people patiently waited. Finally, the Che Kung Temple decree was announced amid the gloomy backdrop of the pandemic containment measures. This year*, the Heung Yee Kuk (乡议局, an advisory body serving as a bridge between the government and rural villagers) drew lot 38 for Hong Kong, a middle lot.
It reads: “People pluck the best fruits from the high branches but I bend down to pick mustard greens and ginger. Instead of flattering the king’s inner circle (媚奥), why not curry favour with the provider of food (媚灶)? Never try to play the hero.”
The interpretation reads: Keep the old traditions and be at peace with yourself; Prosperity of the family will bring riches.
Picking a middle lot meant that the year’s fortune is neither good nor bad. Everything will hinge on human effort and we can’t wait for meat pies to fall from the sky. The first half of the divination lot is easy to understand: it warns against reaching for what is beyond one’s grasp — while other people fight for the high branches to pluck the best fruits, we can keep our feet on the ground and bend down to pick ordinary food like mustard greens and ginger.
The second half of the lot quotes from the Analects (《论语》) and is more difficult to understand. In the context of the divination lot, it roughly means: Instead of trying to access the inner court to appease the big boss, why not satisfy the person who is closer to you and who is offering you food?
A suggestion from 2,500 years ago
Actually, I wonder if the wise men who wrote the lots had been intentional in concealing such a profundity when they quoted from literature. The quote originated from a common saying in the Ba Yi (八佾) chapter of the Analects: “Instead of flattering ao (奥), it is better to flatter zao (灶).”
In a commentary on the Analects (《论语集解》), He Yan quoted Western Han dynasty Confucian scholar Kong Anguo’s interpretation: “Ao, meaning the inner court, refers to the officials close to the emperor. Meanwhile, zao refers to officials wielding actual power. Wang Sunjia (王孙贾), a ruler, wanted Confucius to join his camp and thus used this remark to gain his support.”
Wang’s remark implied: Do not flatter those who are close to the emperor but instead curry favour with those who hold power.
What does this mean? Can the divination lot interpreters tell us who is ao and who is zao?
Confucius’ answer
People familiar with the Analects will know that the literary quote has its own historical background as well as context and meaning. The ao and zao anecdote actually first appeared as a question and answer episode: “Wang Sunjia asked, ‘Instead of flattering ao, it is better to flatter zao. What does this mean?’
Confucius replied, ‘I disagree. If you offend the heavens, you would have nowhere to turn to in your prayers.’”
Flattering either ao or zao will incur the wrath of the heavens, and the gods will stop granting you blessings no matter how hard you pray.
Wang Sunjia was a Wei state (卫国) military commander and a dignitary wielding actual power. He wanted Confucius to join his camp and had intentionally posed the question to see if Confucius would pledge his allegiance to the state of Wei.
Confucius replied that one should neither flatter ao nor zao. In any case, one should not curry favour with the powerful to get promoted. Flattering either ao or zao will incur the wrath of the heavens, and the gods will stop granting you blessings no matter how hard you pray.
Han dynasty’s Kong Anguo long pointed out that Wang was a ruler and had posed the question with a clear intention — to win over Confucius. In a commentary on the Analects (《论语义疏》), Huang Kan (488-545), a Confucian scholar from the Southern dynasties period, concurred with the opinions of Confucian scholars from the Han dynasty and gave a more detailed explanation.
He said, “Wang Sunjia is a ruler of the Wei state who wields actual power over distributing resources, so he referred to himself as zao — it appears modest, yet its impact on the people is real and significant. Those who serve close to the emperor are referred to as ao. They appear high and mighty but have little power, and are like the inner courts of a palace, unable to offer real benefits to the people.
“When Confucius visited Wei, Wang used this old saying in an attempt to persuade Confucius to kowtow to him and join his camp, just as how the people would curry favour with zao.”
So who is ao?
Confucius immediately refused and pointed out that using flattery to advance one’s career would displease the gods and render prayers worthless.
And this was how Confucian scholars from the Han dynasty to Song dynasty, including philosopher Zhu Xi, had interpreted the anecdote. Confucius’ reply was also very clear: do not flatter powerful rulers.
... ao refers to the beautiful and alluring Nanzi (南子), the beloved concubine of Duke Ling of Wei.
Scholars throughout history have clearly pointed out that zao referred to Wang Sunjia but did not explicitly state who ao was, perhaps to save Confucius’ face.
But Qing dynasty scholar Zhou Bingzhong was like the child who exposed the emperor’s new clothes — he pointed out in Correction of the Four Books (《四书典故辨正》) that ao refers to the beautiful and alluring Nanzi (南子), the beloved concubine of Duke Ling of Wei.
Confucius’ meeting with Nanzi in the state of Wei had upset his disciple Zilu, who thought that his master wanted to use Nanzi to gain power. Confucius swore to the heavens and vehemently denied the claim, calling for punishment from the skies if he indeed harboured that thought.
Wang perhaps knew about this incident, hence his dialogue with Confucius on the ao and zao anecdote. Confucius responded that he would never flatter anyone to gain power, otherwise, he would have offended the heavens.
I wonder if divination interpreters in Hong Kong understand the profound meaning behind this literary quotation.
*This article was written in 2022.
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