Born in Tongcheng, Anhui, during the late Ming dynasty, he entered a lineage known for classical study and public service. The intellectual vibrancy and mounting political strain of the era shaped his early curiosity and ambition.

As a child he absorbed the Confucian classics, histories, and literary composition with unusual speed, impressing local teachers and peers. He also developed a habit of questioning accepted explanations, a trait that later defined his scholarship.

During his teens he ranged beyond standard examination texts, reading widely in astronomy, geography, and technical writings circulating among late-Ming literati. This breadth encouraged him to treat knowledge as interconnected rather than confined to one canon.

He traveled through major cultural centers, meeting degree-holders, editors, and salon circles who debated statecraft and learning. These encounters exposed him to diverse schools of thought and strengthened his resolve to build an encyclopedic approach.

He read Buddhist sutras and commentaries while continuing rigorous classical study, seeking a framework for mind, method, and ethics. The dialogue between Buddhist epistemology and Confucian practice became a lasting theme in his writings.

The fall of Beijing and the end of Ming rule upended his world, forcing scholars to confront loyalty, survival, and cultural continuity. He responded by rethinking how knowledge, morality, and history could remain coherent amid catastrophe.

As Qing authority spread, fighting and displacement disrupted travel, study, and local governance across the lower Yangtze region. He experienced the insecurity directly, which sharpened his sense that scholarship must address real historical conditions.

He associated with loyalist networks that mourned the dynasty and debated responses to the new regime, risking scrutiny from Qing authorities. The period reinforced his preference for intellectual independence and cautious, coded expression in writing.

He formally entered monastic life, a decision shaped by personal danger, moral reflection, and the era’s traumatic dislocation. Monastic discipline offered a protected setting for study and writing while reframing loyalty and identity in spiritual terms.

Settling into a rhythm of teaching and compilation, he worked to connect textual scholarship with observations about nature and material phenomena. He emphasized method—careful comparison, skepticism toward easy claims, and attention to concrete particulars.

He exchanged manuscripts and letters with scholars who valued evidential study, philology, and careful reasoning over empty rhetoric. These debates pushed him to clarify definitions, evaluate sources, and articulate a disciplined approach to knowing.

He produced and refined 'Wuli Xiaoshi,' presenting compact discussions of physical and natural topics while stressing limits of human certainty. The work reflects a late-Ming ethos of broad inquiry, blending textual learning with reasoned observation.

In his later writings he argued that reliable knowledge requires layered verification: texts, experience, and logical scrutiny must correct one another. He warned against premature metaphysical certainty and urged humility before complexity and change.

He instructed younger readers in classics, history, and disciplined inquiry, using discussion to sharpen argument and source criticism. His students carried forward a model of learning that was both morally serious and empirically attentive.

As health and travel grew harder, he focused on organizing notes, revising treatises, and safeguarding manuscripts amid uncertain political times. The effort aimed to preserve an integrated intellectual legacy spanning philosophy, history, and natural studies.

He died in 1671, remembered as a formidable late-Ming and early-Qing thinker who refused narrow specialization. His writings continued to circulate among scholars interested in method, evidential learning, and the relationship between mind and world.