Zhi Hu Zhe Ye

Today, while reading Lu Xun, I came across a passage describing Kong Yiji:

After drinking half a bowl of wine, Kong Yiji’s flushed face gradually returned to its original color. Others asked again, “Kong Yiji, do you really know how to read?” Kong Yiji looked at the person asking, with an expression of disdain to argue. They continued, “How come you couldn’t even pass the lowest-level imperial examination?” Kong Yiji immediately appeared dejected and uneasy, his face clouded with gray, mumbling words—this time, all “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye”-like phrases, completely unintelligible. At this point, everyone burst out laughing, and the shop was filled with an air of merriment.

The four characters “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye” vividly capture the essence of classical Chinese prose. Intrigued, I asked ChatGPT about the origin of this phrase, and to my surprise, it traces back to Zhu Yuanzhang. It is now used to mock those who focus only on formality and fail to address practical problems. The phrase, originating from the pragmatic Zhu Yuanzhang, adds a touch of vitality to its meaning.

Emperor Taizu planned to extend the outer city and inspected the Zhuque Gate, personally overseeing the design, accompanied only by Zhao Han, the King of Pu. The Emperor pointed to the gate’s plaque and asked Pu, “Why not just write ‘Zhuque Gate’? What use is the word ‘Zhi’?” Pu replied, “It’s an auxiliary particle.” The Emperor laughed, saying, “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye, what does it really help?” — Excerpt from Wen Ying’s Xiangshan Yelu

After reading The Town of Lu and understanding the origin of “Zhuque Gate,” I realized there are many “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye” phenomena in my own life and work. For instance, I often focus excessively on the technical optimization of my blog while neglecting the substantive content that readers truly care about. I invest a significant amount of time and energy switching between various productivity apps and beautifying PowerPoint slides, chasing so-called “efficient productivity tools” and “elegant presentations,” yet overlook more important work tasks. Similarly, I spend a lot of time searching for the perfect hotel on booking platforms, aiming for an impeccable lodging experience, but lose sight of the true purpose of my business trips.

Analyzing the reasons for falling into the “Zhi Hu Zhe Ye” trap, I found three main issues:

1. Failing to focus on core objectives, wasting time on inefficient or even futile tasks, while subconsciously excusing myself with the pursuit of a “perfect experience.”
2. Lacking a clear understanding of my strengths and weaknesses, underestimating the focus and expertise required to do something well, and overestimating my amateur skills in challenging professional-level tasks.
3. Being unable to effectively leverage external tools and resources, insisting on doing everything myself, and wasting precious time on low-value tasks.

PS: Lo Ta-yu’s album Zhi Hu Zhe Ye sold 140,000 copies shortly after its release.