Why can’t fortune-tellers predict their own fates? Confucius laughed: This is the true meaning of the *I Ching* (Book of Changes)

During the Spring and Autumn Period, there lived a diviner named Ji Gui in the State of Lu, who made a living by setting up a fortune-telling stall. He had a more complete set of hexagram displays than anyone else and a sharper tongue than all his peers. Whenever neighbors faced uncertain matters—whether it was where to look for a lost chicken from the east household, or whether to change a matchmaker for the west household’s unmarried daughter—he could point them to a clear path with just a few words, earning him the nickname "Ji the Half-Immortal."

Yet that autumn, Ji the Half-Immortal found himself stumped first. The powerful Ji Sun clan of Lu had sent someone to invite him to serve as a retainer, with a salary three times what he earned from his stall. But neighbors all whispered that the Ji Sun clan harbored treacherous ambitions, and following them might cost him his head one day. Ji Gui roasted a tortoise shell three times for divination: the cracks pointed east once, west another time, and formed a cross on the third. He arranged the yarrow stalks six times, and the resulting hexagrams alternated between "it is favorable to see the great man" and "the proud dragon has cause for regret," leaving him utterly confused. *How is it that I divine accurately for everyone else, but the hexagrams fail when it comes to my own affairs?* he wondered.

As he squatted in front of his stall tearing at his hair, Confucius happened to pass by with his disciples. Seeing the bamboo slips of hexagram statements scattered all over the ground before Ji Gui, Confucius stroked his beard and smiled. Recognizing the Master, Ji Gui rushed over and grabbed his sleeve. "Master, you’ve come just in time! I’ve never failed in divining for others—why is it that when it’s my turn to choose a path, all the hexagrams are in chaos? Please help me solve this puzzle!"

Confucius squatted down, rummaged through his yarrow stalks twice, and said with a smile, "You divine for people every day, but have you never understood what the *Book of Changes* is for? Do hexagrams exist to feed you standard answers?" He pointed to the orange seller next to the divination stall. "Look at that orange seller. Yesterday someone asked him, ‘Should I buy sweet ones or sour ones?’ What did he say?"

Ji Gui scratched his head. "He said, ‘If you like sweet ones, take sweet ones; if you like sour ones, take sour ones.’"

Confucius clapped his hands. "Exactly! The *Book of Changes* is like that orange seller. It doesn’t choose sweet or sour for you—it only tells you what sweet will taste like and what consequences sour will bring. Your divinations for others were accurate because they already had a tendency in their hearts. When you spoke the hexagram statements, they followed their own inclinations and naturally felt the divination was right. How is it that when it comes to yourself, you want the hexagrams to make the decision for you?"

Ji Gui was still confused. "But should I go to the Ji Sun clan or not?"

Confucius pressed the yarrow stalks into his hand. "First ask yourself: do you want to earn three times more money and take risks, or do you want to keep your stall and live a steady life? If you want to make money, don’t be afraid of losing your head. The hexagram says ‘danger, but no blame’—meaning if you take a risky path but uphold your bottom line, you can still be safe. If you want stability, don’t covet that salary. The hexagram says ‘peaceful and upright, auspicious’—sticking to your duty will keep you from going hungry. The *Book of Changes* never says there is only one right path; it only says each path has its own way of being walked."

Ji Gui suddenly saw the light. On the spot, he wrapped his tortoise shell in a cloth bag. "I’ve figured it out! I’m timid—I’m even afraid of ghosts when I sleep at night. I’d rather keep my stall and feel secure; no matter how much or little I earn, I can sleep peacefully." Later, the Ji Sun clan indeed fell from power. Their retainers were either executed or exiled. Ji Gui squatted in front of his stall, munching on a sweet potato and watching the commotion. He would say to everyone he met, "I used to think the *Book of Changes* helped people choose paths. Now I know it helps people walk their paths clearly—first figure out what you want, then look at the reminders in the hexagrams. There’s no such thing as a right or wrong choice; there’s only whether you dare to bear the consequences after choosing."

Later, someone recorded this story in the marginal notes of the *Analects*, saying "do not divine, that is all." This does not mean the *Book of Changes* is useless; it means if you have no clarity in your own heart, no amount of divination will be of any use.