The night air was pleasantly cool; the house was still warm with the heat of the day. As soon as they went back in, Professor Wen opened some windows to allow the breeze to blow through.

“At this time of the year it’s usually cool, but for the past few days it has been quite hot,” he said. “In this kind of weather, we like to close the windows in the morning, before the air gets hot. That helps keep out the heat for most of the day and then we open them again at night when the outside air is cool. It must seem old-fashioned to you.”

“Not really,” said Danny. “In Seattle there’s not much need for air conditioning. We have maybe a week or two of really hot weather in the summer, if we’re lucky. And when it’s hot, we do the same thing.” “Does your family live in Seattle?” asked Professor Wen. Danny’s explanation prompted more questions about his family, about California, about his education, and his future plans. Mei Ling had her own questions about life in America, some naive and some quite perceptive and practical, as though she were thinking of going there to study.

Danny wanted to turn the conversation back to Chinese philosophy; he was curious about how people dealt with the tension between traditional culture and the official position of China’s ruling Communist party and government. He also felt he could ask a million more questions about chi, but just as he was about to pose one, Mei Ling stood up and said, “Let me see what we have in the kitchen. I’ll see what I can do to keep our guest from starving.”

She came back a while later with three bowls of cold noodles with sesame sauce, garnished with shredded cucumber. Wen apologized for the humble dinner, but Danny thought it was delicious and ate it happily. After dinner, when the dishes were cleared away, they sat around the table drinking tea. “I’m very curious about something,” said Danny “This afternoon you mentioned the relationship between chi and the mind. This is very interesting to me, because in Chinese medicine, there is the idea that there is a strong relationship between emotions and health. And from what you said, emotions are a manifestation of chi.”

“Yes,” said Professor Wen. “You are probably aware of the classical concept that when one is happy, the chi flow is very smooth. When one is angry, the chi is moving sharply upward. When one is worried, the chi is tangled. When one is sad, chi disperses. When one is frightened, chi goes downward. Naturally, the converse is true: when the chi is smooth, one is happy; when chi flows upward, one is angry, and so on. Mental and emotional activities are closely tied to chi. For a doctor, this is something really worth exploring in detail. The problem is that many researchers who are interested in these things have no direct experience of chi, so their discussions and arguments tend to stay at an abstract level. If they had some concrete experience of chi, a lot of the debates would not exist in their current form.”

“That does make sense,” said Danny. “But that leads to another question. Could you help me understand the significance of Yin-Yang theory? I mean obviously, after my embarrassing diatribe, you know that I have a very rudimentary knowledge of the basics, but I’d love to know how it fits with the concept of chi.” “Well, all Chinese culture is based on principles of nature, which can be encompassed by Yin-Yang theory and Five-Element theory. It is fair to say that Chinese culture would not exist in any meaningful sense if you removed these two concepts. Both theories have been distilled from thousands of years of direct observation of natural phenomena and human activities—they reflect how the universe really exists and functions, and how human beings function as an aspect of the universe.”

“Why do you call them theories? Aren’t they more like natural laws or something?” Danny asked. “You’re right. They’re very different from modern scientific theories. It really might be better to think of them as principles, or natural laws, but it has become customary among modern scholars to call them theories. What these traditional theories describe are the fundamental patterns of all natural phenomena, including birth, life, and death. The Yin-Yang theory describes the static structure of the universe, and Five-Element theory—using wood, fire, earth, metal, and water as metaphors—describing the mechanisms of dynamic transformation.” Wen smiled at Danny, who was brought back again to their first discussion of yin and yang.

Mei Ling added, “The most profound thing I learned is that both Yin-Yang and Five-Element theory teach us to follow nature’s patterns. Humans are only a very small part of nature. It is better for us to follow nature’s patterns than to make up random ways of living or create our own patterns and force them onto the rest of nature. You see, nature can get along quite well without humanity, but we cannot survive without nature.”

“Many western people give a lot of credit to nature, too,” Danny responded. “Many artists, poets, architects, musicians, and scientists cite nature as the source of their inspiration. For example, the renowned Spanish architect, Antonio Gaudi, declared that all design has already been created by nature, and Nicolas Tesla, the genius who discovered alternating current electricity, among many other inventions, also described nature as the one of the most important sources of his creativity.”

“That is true,” said Professor Wen. “But what many people mean by the idea of nature can vary widely, depending on their background and their focus.” “What do you mean?” Danny asked. “Some people think of nature in terms of only natural objects or images: birds, forests, rivers, and so on. Some think of it in terms of natural patterns, such as the cycle of night and day, or the rotation of four seasons, and still others think more in terms of natural phenomena, such as earthquakes and hurricanes. Each of these points of view generally focuses on what can be seen, and that is a very limited perspective. It leaves out a lot. Even the so-called natural laws of physics do not relate to human activity; gravity has no connection with human happiness.”

Wen held up his cup and Mei Ling quickly filled it for him and then filled Danny’s. Wen continued, “When we observe nature, we should begin from the highest level, from the forces that are beneath, over, within, and around everything that exists, whether living or not, and all processes and phenomena, as well. In other words, we should begin from the big picture. If we do this, then when we talk about nature, we are referring primarily to the principles behind all of these manifestations, in the natural world, as well as in human society. This is what we call natural law.” “So are you saying that this all-inclusive big picture, the concept of natural law, developed only in China, and plays a central role in Chinese culture, but not in any other culture?” Mei Ling asked.

“Of course not,” said Professor Wen. “It’s not that way at all. People all over the world and throughout history, especially indigenous people, have a keen sense of natural principles, and apply them in their daily lives. At sunrise, people get up to work, when night comes they rest. This is following natural principles. To some extent or other, all people live this way or want to live this way, but most are not conscious of it. They do not have a clear conceptual understanding of it. What makes China different is the fact that China has had a continuous written history for over seven thousand years. We have had over a hundred continuous generations of sages, physicians, hermits, alchemists, and others searching for deeper understanding and passing it on. Each generation builds on the understanding of the prior generations, and this has resulted in a uniquely complete and practical synthesis and use of concepts.” “But what difference has it made?” challenged Mei Ling. “Are we really better off? We’ve had as many wars and conflicts in our history as any other country. Look at the past couple of centuries! We have had devastating social upheavals.