During the Eastern Han Dynasty, the Imperial Academy in Luoyang, the capital city, was the highest institution for teaching Confucian classics. All its scholars were learned men, each holding the title of "Doctor." One Spring Festival, the Academy was filled with a festive atmosphere. The Doctors were busy decorating with lanterns and streamers, preparing to welcome an imperial edict. Soon, drums and gongs sounded outside the Academy—clearly, the emperor had sent messengers to congratulate the Doctors on the holiday. To everyone's delight, the edict announced that, to help the Doctors celebrate the Spring Festival joyfully, the emperor was specially granting each one a sheep.
However, when the sheep were herded in, the Academy's officials faced a dilemma. The sheep varied greatly in size and condition—some large and fat, others small and thin. How could they be fairly distributed?
Some suggested slaughtering all the sheep and dividing the meat, carefully mixing fatty and lean portions so that each person received an equal share. Others found this too troublesome and thought it lacked generosity, proposing instead to draw lots. Size and condition would be left to chance, and no one could blame others if they drew a small or scrawny sheep. Still others felt that neither method was entirely fair, but could not offer a better solution. After much debate, no perfect method could be agreed upon.
At this moment of uncertainty, Zhen Yu, a Doctor who was usually quiet and reserved, stood up and said, "Let each person simply take one sheep. There's no need to draw lots. I'll go first."
All eyes turned to Zhen Yu. He walked toward the flock, looking left and right. Some people began to think to themselves: "He's surely going to pick the biggest, fattest sheep. If everyone grabs the large ones first, who will be left with the small ones?" But after a moment, Zhen Yu walked straight to a small, thin sheep, took its rope, and led it away.
Respect dissolves anger; yielding quiets disputes. Striving brings insufficiency, while yielding brings abundance. Seeing this, the more easygoing Doctors followed Zhen Yu's example and took small sheep as well. Even those who had intended to argue felt too embarrassed to compete. Instead, they began humbly deferring to one another. In the end, everyone happily led a sheep home.
The story soon spread throughout Luoyang. People widely praised Zhen Yu and even gave him a nickname: "The Thin-Sheep Doctor."
Everyone said the "Thin-Sheep Doctor" possessed the highest form of learning. But what truly is the highest form of learning? Lü Kun, in his book *Shen Yin Yu* (*Groans and Sighs*), put it simply and aptly: "The willingness to think of others—that is the highest form of learning."