ExclusiveCan Two Birds Predict the Future? | The Mystery of Shao Yong 【Ep2】 #shaoyong #iching #ancientwisdom #prediction #PlumBlossom

Two Birds, One Prediction Two sparrows were fighting in a plum tree. Suddenly, they tumbled from the branches and fell to the ground. A Chinese philosopher witnessed the scene. He stopped, observed the birds, and made a strange prediction. The following evening, a young woman would enter the garden to pick flowers. A gardener would chase her away, and she would fall and injure her thigh. According to the story, that is exactly what happened. The philosopher was Shao Yong. But how could two fighting birds reveal something that had not yet happened? Hello everyone, I'm Sara. Welcome back to my channel. In our last episode, we followed Shao Yong's remarkable journey in search of the hidden order of the universe. Today, we explore the mysterious art of prediction associated with his name — and his extraordinary attempt to understand the movement of history. The Secret of Plum Blossom Divination The sparrow story appears in a book called Mei Hua Yi Shu, or Plum Blossom Divination. The book is traditionally attributed to Shao Yong, but its authorship remains uncertain. The story is not found in his biography in the History of Song. But the method described in the story is fascinating. In traditional Chinese thought, the world is filled with patterns. The changing seasons, the movement of the sun and moon, the growth and decline of living things — all were understood through the interaction of two complementary forces: yin and yang. The ancient I Ching, or Book of Changes, uses eight basic symbols, called trigrams, to represent different aspects of the world. Each trigram consists of three lines, either broken or unbroken. But here is the interesting part. A single trigram can represent several seemingly unrelated things. For example, the trigram Dui can represent a lake, a young woman, or the mouth. Another trigram, Xun, can represent wind, trees, or the human thigh. In the plum blossom story, Shao Yong supposedly used the date and time of the incident to produce a set of symbols. He then interpreted their relationships and predicted that a young woman would injure her thigh. The birds themselves were not believed to possess knowledge of the future. Their unusual behavior simply provided the occasion for divination. The prediction came from interpreting the symbols. But this raises another question. If one symbol can represent so many different things, how do you know which meaning to choose? Another story associated with Shao Yong offers a surprising answer. A Knock at the Door One winter evening, Shao Yong was sitting at home with his son. Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. The visitor said he wanted to borrow something. Before opening the door, Shao Yong asked his son to use divination to determine what the visitor wanted. His son examined the symbols and answered: "A hoe." Shao Yong disagreed. "I think he wants an axe." When they opened the door, the visitor really had come to borrow an axe. Why did father and son reach different conclusions? According to the story, both objects could be associated with the same symbolic pattern. But Shao Yong considered the circumstances. It was a winter evening. People were unlikely to be working in the fields. They were much more likely to need an axe to chop firewood. The son had followed the symbols. The father had also considered the world around him. The story illustrates an important principle in this divinatory tradition: symbols alone are not enough. Their meaning depends on the situation. And behind these stories lies a deeper question that occupied Shao Yong throughout his life. How should we observe the world? Seeing Beyond Appearances In his writings, Shao Yong developed an idea known as yi wu guan wu — observing things through things themselves. He believed that ordinary observation was often shaped by personal feelings and assumptions. We see what we expect to see. We judge things according to what we like or dislike. But Shao Yong wanted to go further. He wrote that we should not merely observe with our eyes, or even with our minds, but seek the principles underlying what we observe. Consider the natural world. Spring arrives, and plants begin to grow. Summer brings warmth and abundance. Autumn brings the harvest, and leaves begin to fall. Winter follows, and much of nature becomes still. Then spring returns. The days also follow a pattern. After the winter solstice, daylight gradually increases. After the summer solstice, it begins to decrease. For Shao Yong, these changes reflected the continual interaction of yin and yang. Neither remained dominant forever. When one reached its extreme, the other began to emerge. Could a similar pattern be found in human history? The Hidden Rhythm of History Look at the great dynasties of China. In 221 BC, the First Emperor of Qin united China under one imperial rule. Yet the Qin dynasty collapsed only a few years after his death. The Han dynasty that followed endured for centuries, but eventually broke apart. The Tang dynasty reached extraordinary heights of wealth and culture. Then, in the eighth century, the devastating An Lushan Rebellion weakened the empire and marked a turning point in its history. Dynasties rose, prospered, declined, and disappeared. New dynasties emerged. Shao Yong wondered whether these changes could be understood within a larger order. In his great work, Huangji Jingshi, he developed an extraordinary system of historical time. It was built upon four units. A shi represented thirty years. Twelve shi formed a yun, or 360 years. Thirty yun formed a hui, lasting 10,800 years. And twelve hui formed one great yuan. A single yuan lasted... 129,600 years. Think about that number. From the unification of China under the First Emperor to Shao Yong's lifetime in the eleventh century, roughly 1,300 years had passed. That entire stretch of history—from Qin and Han through centuries of division, Sui, Tang, and into the Song — occupied less than one-eighth of a single hui. And a hui was only one-twelfth of a yuan. Shao Yong was placing human history within an immense framework of time. His calculations drew upon traditional Chinese ideas about calendars, numbers, yin and yang, and the cycles of nature. He wanted to understand whether the rise and fall of human societies might reflect a deeper pattern of change. This was a philosophical and cosmological system, not a scientifically established law of history. But its ambition was remarkable. Shao Yong was attempting to understand the relationship between the rhythms of nature and the course of human civilization. The Philosopher Behind the Legends The History of Song describes Shao Yong as a scholar of extraordinary insight. He became known for his ability to understand subtle patterns and anticipate developments that others could not see. But the historical record also warns us about the legends that grew around him. After his death, people sometimes attributed predictions to Shao Yong that could not be reliably traced back to him. Over time, two images of Shao Yong became intertwined. One was the philosopher who devoted his life to studying the principles of change. The other was the legendary sage who could discover the future from the smallest signs. The two sparrows in the plum tree belong to that second tradition. Yet the fascination surrounding Shao Yong did not end with stories of divination. There was something even more mysterious. Ten Mysterious Poems For centuries, ten short poems have circulated under Shao Yong's name. They are known as Mei Hua Shi — The Plum Blossom Poems. Later generations have interpreted them as predictions of major events in Chinese history. The fall of dynasties. Foreign invasions. The rise of new rulers. Times of turmoil and transformation. In our final episode, we'll explore the Plum Blossom Poems, the historical events they are said to predict, and the mystery surrounding their origins. If you enjoyed this story, please like and subscribe. See you next time!