During the Second Zhou Dynasty, when Wu Zeitan was the first and only empress regent of China, the wise master Chou-Tzu lived in a small house by the sea in the Jilin province. He was known far and wide through the Chinese empire as the wisest of all wise men. As was custom, he accepted students who would learn from his wisdom; however there came a time when three students of seemingly equal talent came to him. Because it was his manner to accept only a single student at a time, Chou-Tzu devised a test to find the wisest of his three pupils.
On the third day of the third month when the pink cherry blossomed, the dark branches of saplings reposed in haikus upon the distant green hills, and the sea oats waved like the hands of beautiful women in the salt breeze, Chou-Tzu called his students to his home. When they arrived, he bid them wait outside until he called, at which point they must enter alone. Each would be called in his turn. So the three pupils tucked their hands into their sleeves, bowed in a stately and courteous fashion, and waited for his turn.
When the master beckoned the first of them to enter, Xian, the son of a farmer, who had purposely seated himself nearest the master's door, arose and entered the modest hovel. Inside, he saw that the master had put a teapot on the table with a single cup; next to the teapot, sat a small bowl of seasoned rice. Chou-Tzu stood next to the table, smiling politely, with both hands behind his back. Thinking to himself "Ah! My master is generous. He wishes for me to eat before taking my lesson," Xian stepped eagerly to the table; however, Chou-Tzu brought a single hand from behind his back, gestured for the student to stop, and then motioned for him to be seated. Xian seated himself on a wooden bench next to the humble table and its spartan meal, at which time Chou-Tzu spoke:
"I am going to give you a problem to solve. If you give me the correct answer, you will become the wisest man in all of China. If you answer incorrectly, you must leave my home, never return and tell no one of what you learned here."
Somewhat startled by the high stakes, Xian hid his discomfort, bowed his head and agreed to the Chou-Tzu's conditions.
"Very well," said Chou-Tzu, "listen carefully to what I am about to say." At this time, he removed the other hand from behind his back to reveal a sturdy bamboo cane. "If you sit at my table and eat my food, I will strike you with this stick. If, however, you sit at my table and do not eat my food, I will strike you with this stick. What is your answer?"
Xian could not contain his surprise at being faced with such a choice; he paused to consider what was the best course of action to take. Clearly, either way, he would be beaten. However, if he ate the food, not only would he no longer be hungry but he would dishonor his master's home by refusing hospitality. Thus Xian poured himself a cup of tea, ate the seasoned rice and, when he had finished the meal, "THWACK!" came Chou-Tzu's cane down upon his back.
"That is not the correct answer," Chou-Tzu said calmly, restoring his hands behind his back. "Begone from my home, do not return, and do not tell a soul of of what you have learned here." And so the crestfallen Xian rose from the bench and left the master's hovel. He then returned to the home of his family and spent the rest of his days as a farmer, never telling a soul what he had learned from his time with Chou-Tzu.
After Xian had left, the two remaining pupils waited for their turn to be called. When the master beckoned a second time, Zheng, the son of a wealthy trader, who had traveled long and far from the south of China and suffered great poverty to study with Chou-Tzu, entered the hovel. Upon entering, he stopped and glanced around the room, noting its clean, bare walls and floors, before resting his eye first on his master and then on the table, which was once more set with tea and rice. Chou-Tzu beckoned his pupil forward with the one hand, motioning for him to be seated on the bench. He repeated the same conditions which he had given to Xian; like Xian, Zheng assented. "Very well," said Chou-Tzu, taking the bamboo cane from behind his back "listen carefully to what I am about to say" and he repeated the problem to Zheng.
When he has finished speaking, Chou-Tzu asked "What is your answer?" Like Xian, Zheng thought for a moment. Upon entering, he had noticed that there was only one cup upon the table, and that the dish of rice was rather small. He had also see that the master's house contained no riches or ornamentation of any kind. He knew that, being a wise man meant living an ascetic life; thus, he concluded that the master would not eat with him because he had but only enough food for one. Hospitality dictated that the master must offer food and drink to his guest but by eating it, he would deprive his master of his only meal. To be beaten for eating the food was the anger of going hungry; to be beaten for not eating the food was the anger of a dishonored host. Thinking that the master meant to test his fortitude in sacrifice, Zheng smiled and remained seated, crossed his arms to his chest and said, "Thank you, kind master, but I am not hungry."
"THWACK!" went Chou-Tzu's cane as it hit Zheng's back, at which time he said "That is not the correct answer. Begone from my home, do not return, and do not tell a soul of of what you have learned here." Likewise crestfallen, Zheng left the home of his master; he returned to the house of his family where he spent the rest of his days as a merchant and never told a soul what he had learned from his time with Chou-Tzu.
Having waited and watched the other two pupils leave the hovel, Bin did not know if they had met success or failure. When the master beckoned, he entered the hovel, took stock of his surroundings, but never stopped until a few steps from his master, where he waited for his instruction. Chou-Tzu took a hand from behind his and motioned for the young man to sit, which he did, then Chou-Tzu repeated the same conditions he'd given to the other students; Bin, nodded his head gravely, showing no sign of what he was thinking. Again the master produced the bamboo stick from behind his back. "Very well," he said "listen carefully to what I am about to say."
Faced with the same problem as the other students, Bin thought a moment as they had, although his face, like a deep river, gave no impression of what lay beneath. After considering the problem, he then rose from his master's table, bowed politely, and left the hovel, never to return. It was in this way that Bin had solved the master's test and received enlightenment. He went on to become the greatest wise man in all of China.
