A representative of the School of Names (Logicians), he is famous for ten paradoxes about the relativity of time and space, for instance, "I set off for Yue (southeastern China) today and came there yesterday."
[2] The Yiwenzhi attributes a philosophical work to Hui Shi, but it is no longer extant, probably being lost prior to the Tang dynasty.
[3] For this reason, knowledge of his philosophy relies on the several Chinese classic texts that refer to him, including the Zhan Guo Ce, Lüshi Chunqiu, Han Feizi, Xunzi, and most frequently, the Zhuangzi.
Belonging to the School of Names, Hui Shi's philosophy is characterised by arguments centred around the relativity of the concepts of sameness (同 tong) and difference (異 yi).
[8] Though the theses seem haphazard, and the list lacking in logical structure, Chris Fraser argues that they can be divided into four natural groups:[8] Another passage from the Tian Xia attributes 21 more paradoxes to Hui Shi and other members of the School of Names, which they are said to have used in their debates.
"If from a stick a foot long you every day take the half of it, in a myriad ages it will not be exhausted."
The last statement in particular, "if from a stick a foot long you every day take the half of it, in a myriad ages it will not be exhausted" is notable for its resemblance to the Dichotomy paradox described by Zeno of Elea.
C. Graham argues that this philosophical position suggests some affinity between Hui Shi and the Mohists, in their shared opinion that "the function of names is to communicate that an object is like the objects one knows by the name"[13][4] Most of the other Zhuangzi passages portray Hui Shi (Huizi) as a friendly rival of Zhuangzi (Wade–Giles: Chuang1 Tzu3).
Hui Shi acts as an intellectual foil who argues the alternative viewpoint, or criticizes the Daoist perspective, often with moments of humor.
"According to these ancient Daoist stories, Zhuangzi and Hui Shi remained friendly rivals until death.
Turning to his attendants, he said, "There was once a plasterer who, if he got a speck of mud on the tip of his nose no thicker than a fly's wing, would get his friend Carpenter Shih to slice it off for him.
Carpenter Shih, whirling his hatchet with a noise like the wind, would accept the assignment and proceed to slice, removing every bit of mud without injury to the nose, while the plasterer just stood there completely unperturbed.
But Carpenter Shih replied, 'It's true that I was once able to slice like that but the material I worked on has been dead these many years.'