Tzŭ Chi had eight sons. He ranged them before him, and summoning Chiu Fang Yin, said to him, "Examine my sons physiognomically, and tell me which will be the fortunate one."
"K'un," replied Chiu Fang Yin, "will be the fortunate one."
"In what sense?" asked the father, beaming with delight.
"K'un," said Chiu Fang Yin, "will eat at the table of a prince, and so end his days."
Thereupon Tzŭ Chi burst into tears and said, "What has my son done that this should be his fate?"
"Eating at the table of a prince," replied Chiu Fang Yin, "will benefit the family for three generations. How much more his father and mother! But for you, Sir, to go and weep is enough to turn back the luck from you. The son's fortune is good, but the father's bad."
"Yin," said Tzŭ Chi, "I should like to know what you mean by calling K'un fortunate. Wine and meat gratify the palate, but you do not say how these are to come.
"Supposing that to me, not being a shepherd, a lamb were born in the south-west corner of my hall; or that to me, not being a sportsman, quails were hatched in the north-east corner. If you did not call that uncanny, what would you call it?
"My sons and I do but roam through the universe. With them I seek the joys of heaven; with them I seek the fruits of earth. With them I engage in no business; with them I concoct no plots; with them I attempt nothing out-of-the-way. With them I mount upon the truth of the universe, and do not offer opposition to the exigencies of our environment. With them I accommodate myself naturally; but with them I do not become a slave to circumstances. Yet now the world is rewarding me!