The Golden Cicada Sheds Its Shell

Jiànxīng shí'èr nián, Zhūgě Liàng dì-liù cì běifá, shuài Shǔjūn chū Xiégǔ, yǔ Sīmǎ Yì de dàjūn duìzhì yú Wùzhàngyuán.

In the twelfth year of Jianxing, Zhuge Liang launched his sixth northern campaign, leading the Shu army out through Xie Valley to face Sima Yi's forces at Wuzhangyuan.

Shǔjūn yuǎndào ér lái, liángcǎo jiējì kùnnán, Zhūgě Liàng rìyè cāoláo, zhōng yīn jīláo-chéngjí, bìngdǎo yú jūn zhōng.

The Shu army had come a long way and resupply was difficult; worn down by sleepless toil, Zhuge Liang finally fell ill in camp.

Línzhōng zhīqián, Zhūgě Liàng zuì dānxīn de, shì zìjǐ yí dàn bìngshì, Shǔjūn chètuì zhī shí bì zāo Sīmǎ Yì zhuījī, hòuguǒ bùkān-shèxiǎng.

On his deathbed, Zhuge Liang's chief worry was that once he died, Sima Yi would surely attack the Shu army as it retreated — a disaster too grim to imagine.

Yúshì tā cóngróng dìngxià yí jì, bǎ hòushì xìxì zhǔtuō gěi zhǎngshǐ Yáng Yí hé dàjiàng Jiāng Wéi, ràng tāmen yījì-xíngshì.

So he calmly devised a plan and carefully entrusted its every step to his secretary Yang Yi and the general Jiang Wei, telling them to act accordingly.

Zhūgě Liàng qùshì hòu, Shǔjūn mì bù fāsàng, yíng zhōng qízhì rúcháng, chuīyān búduàn, yíqiè kàn shàngqù yǔ píngrì wú yì.

After Zhuge Liang died, the Shu army kept his death a close secret: flags flew as usual, smoke rose from the cook-fires, and all looked exactly as before.

Gèng miào de shì, Yáng Yí mìng rén bǎ huóyáng diào zài zhàngǔ zhī shàng, yángtí luàndēng, gǔshēng tōngxiāo bù jué, yòu ràng shìbīng bǎ cǎorén páiliè zài yíngzhài sìzhōu.

Better still, Yang Yi had live sheep hung above the war drums; their kicking hooves kept the drums pounding through the night, while soldiers lined the camp's edges with straw dummies.

Yíqiè bùzhì tuǒdàng hòu, Shǔjūn zhǔlì chèn yè qiǎorán chèlí, dài Sīmǎ Yì chájué shí, yíng zhōng yǐ kōngwú-yìrén.

Once all was in place, the main Shu force slipped away in the night; by the time Sima Yi noticed, the camp was already empty.

Sīmǎ Yì shuàijūn zhuīlái, kàndào mǎn yíng de qígǔ yǔ cǎorén, cái huǎngrán-dàwù, bùjīn jīngtàn “sǐ Zhūgě zǒu shēng Zhòngdá”.

When Sima Yi rode up in pursuit and saw the flags, drums, and straw figures, he suddenly understood, exclaiming, “The dead Zhuge has made off, leaving the living Zhongda behind!”

Hòurén biàn bǎ zhè yí zhāo chēng wéi “Jīnchán-tuōqiào”: biǎomiàn liúxià wánzhěng de qiào, zhēnshēn zǎoyǐ cóngróng yuǎnqù.

Later generations called this move “the golden cicada sheds its shell”: leaving a perfect shell on the outside, while the real body has long since slipped safely away.

Suǒwèi “Jīnchán-tuōqiào”, biàn shì zài xiǎnjìng zhōng bǎochí wàixíng bú biàn, ànzhōng cóngróng chōushēn, ràng duìshǒu húnrán-bùjué.

“The golden cicada sheds its shell” means keeping up appearances in danger while quietly slipping away, so the rival notices nothing at all.

Shēnghuó lǐ yě néng yòngdào: lìrú fù yì chǎng sǎoxìng de jùhuì, nǐ lǐmào dǎguo zhāohu, liúxià yì bēi hái màozhe rèqì de chá, biàn néng tǐmiàn de qiǎorán líchǎng.

It works in daily life too: at a disappointing party, you can politely say hello, leave a cup of tea still steaming, and quietly slip away with grace.

Tā de zhìhuì zàiyú: bǎoquán zìjǐ búbì yìngpīn, liú yí ge ràng duìshǒu fàngxīn de yàngzi, fǎn'ér néng huànlái quánshēn'értuì de yúdì.

Its wisdom: you need not fight head-on to save yourself; leaving a reassuring facade can buy you the room to walk away whole.