First month, fourth year of Taishi.
...In truth, when I roamed the realm, I indeed beheld rare herbs and wondrous trees. Yet those who attained longevity through them were nothing more than walking corpses. Upon my return, I dared not speak the truth, fearing Your Majesty would pursue them with even greater fervor. Thus, I falsely claimed to have found nothing, concealing the rarities I gathered on the northern slopes of Mount Tai.
I have often reflected: what makes a sovereign great is not the length of his life, but his legacy inscribed upon the annals of history. If future generations remember the Han Dynasty at its zenith, then Your Majesty lives forever.
Yet throughout my life, I found favor only as a jester, never daring to speak plainly. Now, on the brink of death, I have carved this tomb, laid out an overturned bowl, and set wine to wait. When Your Majesty performs the Fengshan sacrifices at Mount Tai in the days to come, you will surely unearth my tomb and find this bowl. Beneath it lies nothing but a riddle, the answer to which holds the very words I longed to speak in life.
My only wish is that Your Majesty lifts it in person, as though we were sharing a cup. Should Your Majesty forgive my deceit, then even in the Underworld, I shall raise a cup to you once more...
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