Original text:

Fang Zhongyong, a native of Jinxi, is cultivated in the world. Zhong Yongsheng lived for five years and didn't understand books and tools. Suddenly he cried for it. The father, on the other hand, borrowed from the side and approached it, that is, four sentences of books and poems, which were named after themselves. Based on his adoptive parents and family collections, his poems were handed down to a scholar in a township. Nature refers to things as poetry, and its arts and sciences are considerable. People in the city are very strange. They invite their father a little, or beg with money, and his father benefits himself, so he will forbid Zhong Yong to beg in the city and stop studying.

I've heard a long time ago. In Ming Dow, I came home from my ancestors and saw it at my uncle's house. That was twelve or thirteen years ago. To write a poem, you can't call it the smell of the past. Seven years later, I returned to my uncle's house from Yangzhou and asked him, "I lost everyone."

The prince said: Zhong Yong's understanding is also an act of God. It is also blessed, far more virtuous than talents. If a chess piece is owned by everyone, it will not be influenced by others. He is a man who receives heaven, so he is a saint, and he who does not receive heaven is for all. Today's husband is not subject to heaven, and those who are not subject to heaven are evil for all!