The King and the Old Farmer

Dust swirled in blinding clouds, while the thundering hooves of horses tore through the darkness. In a desolate forest, a ragged and exhausted group trudged forward. This was Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, accompanied by only a few loyal attendants, fleeing the capital as An Lushan’s rebellion erupted. The emperor had never walked such great distances; his feet ached, his stomach growled with hunger, and all around him lay nothing but wild vegetation.

Suddenly, an old man with white hair and beard approached from afar, leaning on a staff and carrying a simple tray of food. He knelt down and offered the king humble village dishes: a bowl of thin porridge and a plate of boiled wild vegetables. Emperor Xuanzong accepted them and ate with great relish, as if they were rare delicacies. After finishing, he looked up at the elder and asked about the people’s suffering.

"I see that the common folk here live in great hardship," the king said. "How do the local officials treat the people?"

The old man sighed deeply, his cloudy eyes gazing into the distance. "Your Majesty, we peasants suffer terribly. Higher officials engage in manipulation, bribery, and corruption in every form. They squeeze the people until their very bones are bare. Taxes are heavy, and we face beatings and oppression. We can only grit our teeth and endure, having no one to appeal to and nowhere to find justice."

Emperor Xuanzong was startled and shocked by these words. "Why did you not come to the imperial court to present these matters directly to me?"

The elder bowed his head, his voice trembling. "Your Majesty, the Emperor resides within the deep, forbidden palace. How could lowly subjects like us dare to dream of seeing your royal face? When we have grievances, we can only cry out to heaven; how could we possibly step foot inside the imperial palace?"

The old man’s words struck the king like a hammer blow. He suddenly realized that for so long, he had lived in magnificent palaces, hearing only reports of prosperity and peace from his officials. But the truth was entirely different. He saw only a small fragment of reality through the mouths of intermediaries, who were themselves the ones exploiting the people.

Later, after restoring his throne, Emperor Xuanzong implemented many reforms. He listened more closely to the common people and no longer relied solely on official reports. He understood that listening indirectly through multiple layers distorts the truth, and only direct listening reveals reality.

The Meaning of the Story

This story illustrates the danger of receiving information indirectly through many intermediaries. When we hear through others’ accounts, facts may be distorted, embellished, or stripped of their truthfulness. Therefore, in life, we should seek direct contact with situations and people to understand their true nature, avoiding unnecessary misunderstandings and errors.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang