Those neo-Taoist intellectuals behaved like alcoholics or crazy people, which disqualified them from being chosen by the emperor. The famous ones were the seven saints of the bamboo grove, and they were good at poetry. One of the poets was said to sit in a horsepulled cart loaded with wine. Two servicemen were following behind holding a spade and shovel. The driver asked where to go. “Wherever the horses may lead,” he said. “What is it for us?” the two servicemen asked. “Bury me at once wherever I die.”

One of their poems has the following lines:

My eyes follow the geese in the blue sky,
My hands play a tune on the zither to say bye.
I rock up and down to my perfect enjoyment,
My mind travels in space where has no government.