One day, King Huan was reading a book while an old craftsman was busy making wheels in his work area. The wheelmaker saw that the king was absorbed in reading and became curious. He put down his tools and approached the king, saying: “Your Highness, what is in this book you are reading?”
King Huan held up the book with great respect. “The words of sages.”
The wheelmaker asked: “Are these sages still alive, Your Highness?”
The king shook his head. “No, they are long gone.”
“I see.” The wheelmaker nodded. “In that case, Your Highness is reading the leftovers of the ancients.”
This struck the king as incredibly insulting. His anger flared. “You are nothing more than a lowly craftsman. Is it your place to comment on what I read? Explain the reasoning of your statement and I may let you live. If you fail to do so, I shall have your head!”
The wheelmaker responded calmly: “Your Highness, I can explain by using what I know about making wheels. The hole in the center of the wheel has to be just right. If I chisel too quickly and make the hole too big, the wheel will slip off the axle. If I chisel too slowly and make the hole too small, the wheel will fit too tightly or won’t fit at all. Therefore, the secret of my trade is making the hole just right so the wheel is easy to use and turns well.”
King Huan snapped: “What does this have to do with my book?”
The wheelmaker continued: “This skill of making the wheel just right is something I can describe with words but can never pass on to my son. Without years of practice to develop the feeling to guide the work, he will never be able to master my techniques. That is why I am seventy years old and still making wheels. The wisdom of the sages is just like that. Their words are still in the book, but their real essence from years of living the Tao was lost when they passed away. That is why I said the book contained the leftovers of the ancients.”
King Huan did not expect such a profound explanation. He set the book down and began to reflect on the wheelmaker’s words.