Lao Tzu (also Laozi, 老子; literally "Old Master") is among the most influential figures in world philosophy — and one of the most mysterious. The book attributed to him, the Tao Te Ching, is second only to the Bible in number of translations. Yet everything we "know" about the man comes through a single ancient biography wrapped in legend.
The story comes from Sima Qian's Records of the Grand Historian (c. 100 BCE): Laozi — born Li Er in the state of Chu — served as keeper of the archives at the Zhou court, the most learned position in the kingdom. Disillusioned with the dynasty's decline, he mounted a water buffalo and rode west. At the Hangu Pass, the gatekeeper Yinxi recognized him and begged him to leave his wisdom in writing before vanishing. Laozi composed the Tao Te Ching — about five thousand characters — handed it over, and disappeared into the wilderness.
It is a beautiful story about the book itself: wisdom written by someone who had no interest in fame, for an audience of one who asked.
Sima Qian himself reports the uncertainty: he mentions a possible identification with Lao Laizi, a contemporary of Confucius, and with Grand Historian Dan of Zhou. Modern scholarship generally treats "Laozi" as either a single sage of the 6th–5th century BCE or the collective voice of an early Taoist school. The oldest physical evidence — the Guodian Chu Slips, late 4th century BCE — shows the text was already circulating within two centuries of the traditional date, and the Mawangdui silk manuscripts (c. 2nd century BCE) preserve it nearly complete. Whoever wrote it, the text is very old, and very real.
In religious Taoism, Laozi is venerated as Taishang Laojun (太上老君), the "Supreme Old Lord," a deity in the Taoist pantheon — philosophy turned to devotion, the keeper of archives turned into a god of revelation. The Tao Te Ching, meanwhile, never stopped being read: by emperors, monks, generals, poets, and — since the 19th century — the entire world.
Because it does not depend on its author. Its opening line — "The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao" (Chapter 1) — dissolves the very idea of a final authority, author included. What remains is 81 chapters of advice on living with the grain of reality: its sharpest lines, explained, and the fuller story of Laotzu and the text.