During the mid-Tang Dynasty, two renowned poets, Liu Yuxi and Li Shen, were close friends who often visited each other. One day, Li Shen was invited to Liu Yuxi's home for a meal. Liu Yuxi, known for his frugality, served only simple dishes. As they ate, Li Shen joked, "Brother, your hospitality is as sparse as a monk's meal!" Liu Yuxi laughed and replied, "A true friendship doesn't need lavish feasts—just good company." Li Shen then pressed, "But if you had imperial gifts from the emperor, would you still serve such plain fare?" Liu Yuxi smiled, "Even then, I'd rather share a simple meal with a true friend than a grand banquet with a stranger." Their banter reflected a deep bond, showing that genuine connection transcends material wealth. Source: *New Tang History*, "Biography of Liu Yuxi"
Liu Yuxi once worked alongside Wang Shuwen on political reforms. When Wang Shuwen's efforts failed, Liu was implicated and demoted to be the Sima of Langzhou, then served consecutive terms as governor of Lianzhou, Kuizhou, and Hezhou. After more than twenty years in exile, he longed day and night to return to the capital. Finally, one day, he received an imperial order to leave his post and head back to Luoyang.
After returning to Luoyang, Liu Yuxi was appointed as a secretary in the Ministry of Rites, a largely ceremonial post. Eager to make a real difference, he found himself sidelined. By then, Emperor Jingzong had been murdered by eunuchs, and Emperor Wenzong ascended the throne amid intensifying power struggles among the eunuchs. Liu Yuxi felt deeply unsettled and frustrated. Later, Prime Minister Pei Du promoted him to a position at the Jixian Academy, where his duties involved editing books, compiling essays, and collating classics. Liu Yuxi saw this as a fresh start and felt a surge of hope. Yet beneath the capital's surface of song and dance, dangerous currents churned. The city offered no real outlet for his talents. He buried himself in academy work, and in his spare time, he drank wine with friends, admired flowers, composed poems, and exchanged verses—a way to pass the days, console himself, and find fleeting solace.
At that time, another renowned poet, Li Shen, had just resigned from his post as the Minister of Works—known as "Sikong," an official overseeing engineering projects—and was residing in the capital. Greatly admiring Liu Yuxi's literary talent, upon hearing of Liu's arrival in the capital, Li Shen specially prepared fine wine and exquisite dishes, inviting Liu Yuxi to his home as a guest. During the banquet, Li Shen summoned a young singing girl to accompany the drinking.
The singing girl, with her hair styled in a towering bun and dressed in exquisite courtly attire, danced gracefully while softly singing the tune "Du Weiniang," repeatedly toasting Liu Yuxi. This stunning beauty and enchanting melody, amid such a lively gathering, stirred deep emotions in Liu Yuxi. He immediately picked up his brush and composed a poem, writing:
High Coiffures and Cloud-Like Hair, Palace-Style Attire
A Song of Du Weiniang in the Spring Breeze.
A Common Sight Is No Surprise
During the Tang Dynasty, the poet Liu Yuxi was serving as the Prefect of Hezhou when he composed a poem that included the line, "It would break the heart of the Jiangnan prefect." This verse was so poignant that it moved readers to tears, capturing the deep melancholy of a man far from home, longing for the beauty and warmth of the southern rivers. The phrase became a celebrated expression of profound sorrow, forever linking Liu Yuxi's name to the aching beauty of Jiangnan.
The beautiful singing girl performed a moving song, but the Minister of Works, having seen and heard such things countless times, found it utterly unremarkable—as ordinary as the morning sun. In contrast, this humble prefect, exiled to a distant post for over twenty years, was already heartbroken by the melody.
Later, the idiom "a common sight" came to describe things frequently seen that are no longer surprising.
Source: Liu Yuxi (Tang Dynasty), *Seven-Character Quatrain*
Meaning of the Idiom: Later, the Chinese idiom "司空见惯" came to describe how things frequently seen are no longer surprising.