《太上老君说常清静经注(无名氏)》

Laozi said: The Great Dao—the fundamental law of the cosmos in Daoist thought—has no tangible form, yet it gives rise to and nourishes Heaven and Earth. It has no human emotions, yet it sets the sun and moon in motion. It has no fixed name, yet it continually nurtures the myriad things.

The Old Lord explains that the Great Dao has three qualities of “nonbeing.” First, the Great Dao has no fixed form, yet it can generate Heaven and Earth. Second, it has no human emotions or temperament, yet it can set the Sun and Moon in motion. Third, it has no name or appearance, yet it can cause the myriad things to grow and flourish.

The Great Dao is clear and wondrous, still and empty, profound and beyond measure. It belongs to the Qi of nature, the vital energy that is the source of the cosmos, and so has no concrete form. Yet precisely because of this, it can generate Heaven and Earth: this is the Great Dao’s first virtue. The Great Dao has no emotions or temperament, yet through the Qi of nature it sets the Sun and Moon in motion, allowing their light to illuminate all things. This is its second virtue. The Great Dao has no form or emotions, nor any fixed name or appearance, yet a single Qi secretly runs through all things and transforms them into being. This is its third virtue.

Heaven and Earth, the Sun and Moon, and the myriad things can also be understood as corresponding to the human body. Heaven and Earth refer to the span from the Mudball Palace at the crown of the head, a site for cultivation, to the Yongquan point on the soles of the feet. The Sun and Moon refer to the left eye, the right eye, and the kidneys. The myriad things refer to the myriad Shen within the body, a Daoist term for the spirits residing within it.

The human body originates in the Dao’s single Qi. A person receives Qi from Heaven and Earth; Yin and Yang unite, and the parents conceive and nurture the child until a body gradually takes shape. The scripture then describes fetal development using traditional Daoist accounts: in the first month the embryo forms; in the second, its body gradually takes shape; in the third, the Three Hun souls form; in the fourth, the Seven Po souls form; in the fifth, the Five Viscera develop; in the sixth, the Six Bowels take shape; in the seventh, the seven apertures become distinct; in the eighth, the Eight Radiant Forms—eight spiritual manifestations within the body—descend; and in the ninth, divine spirits enter, numbering eighteen thousand. When those within and without unite, there are thirty-six thousand rays of numinous light. Once the spirits have entered and the body is complete, the child is born at the end of the tenth month. Part of the original text repeats itself here.

From this we can understand that although the Great Dao has no form, it can transform primordial Qi into Qi with form. The scripture calls this formed Qi “primordial vital energy” and says that it measures eight hundred and ten zhang in length. If people cherish and preserve their primordial vital energy, their bodies will be less prone to decline and injury. Though the Great Dao has no form, it can circulate true Jing. If people nurture the Jing of the kidneys and keep it from being depleted, their eyes will naturally be bright.

The Great Dao has no fixed name, yet people can obtain the Qi of true Jing and take form through it. The body is the foundation that receives Qi, and Qi is the source of the body: Qi gives rise to Jing, and Jing gives rise to Shen. Thus the scripture says that Qi is the mother of Shen, and Shen is the child of Qi. When Qi and Shen depend on each other and remain inseparable, this is called attaining the Dao.

Thus it is said: the Great Dao has no form, yet generates Heaven and Earth; it has no emotions, yet sets the Sun and Moon in motion; it has no name, yet nurtures the myriad things. If people cherish their bodies, regulate and nourish their primordial vital energy, and preserve their spirit, they can reach the Dao of true constancy and purity. Wen Zhongzi said, “Contemplate the Great Dao with a tranquil mind, and cultivate yourself with a clear mind.” To do this is to attain purity and stillness.

I do not know what it was originally called, so I can only reluctantly call it the Dao.

“Wu” is the name the Most High Lord Lao uses for himself; it means “I.” The Most High Lord Lao says that the Great Dao has three kinds of “absence”: it has no form, yet naturally gives birth to Heaven and Earth; it has no feelings or temperament, yet naturally sets the sun and moon in motion; it has no fixed name or image, yet naturally nourishes the myriad things. I do not know its precise name. Since there is no more fundamental source above it and it stands alone in its nobility, I provisionally call it the Dao. Hence the saying: “I do not know what it was originally called, so I can only reluctantly call it the Dao.”

When the myriad things are still in a deep, chaotic, indistinguishable state, people cannot name them. Only after they appear can they be given names. Naming is one way the Dao functions. The sage governs the world through the unadorned simplicity of the uncarved Dao. Master Wenzhong says that by making use of what leaves no trace, one can bring the myriad things to transform of themselves. The Book of Changes says that by bringing about transformations in a wondrous way, the people can adapt and find stability.

In ancient times, when Emperor Taizong of Tang governed the world, the people of the four quarters submitted to him. He ruled through teaching that had no outward form or name, without relying on punishments and the threat of execution. After three hundred condemned prisoners had been put to death, no one in the realm again violated the laws of the prisons. At that time, a peck of rice cost only three coins, and people could travel a thousand li without carrying provisions. This shows that when the Dao’s teaching flourishes, it can work without relying on explicit names or coercive measures. Thus the Most High Lord Lao says: “I do not know what it was originally called, so I can only reluctantly call it the Dao.” When people first begin to cultivate, they have no such title. Only after their cultivation succeeds do they receive a title such as “Realized Person.”

The Dao has clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness.

The character “Dao” is used to reveal the Great Dao. The Old Lord said, “I do not know what the Great Dao was originally called, so I can only provisionally call it ‘Dao.’” The Great Dao has no form, feelings, or fixed name, yet it silently connects and permeates the One Qi (the primal vital energy at the source of the universe). Within the One Qi there is clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness. Those who cultivate the Dao should realize the Great Dao: they should clarify their mind and spirit, let turbidity and disorder settle, steady their spirit, and accord with changes between movement and stillness. When clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness each find their proper place, one may be said to accord with the Dao. Thus there is both clarity and turbidity, both movement and stillness.

Wenzhongzi said, “When the age is clear, maintain clarity; when the age is turbid, accord with turbidity; when the time is right for action, act.” This is “harmonizing with the light and sharing the dust” (restraining one’s brilliance and adapting to the world), while holding to the Dao of clarity and stillness.

During the Qingyuan era of the Tang dynasty, a hunter named Sun Shou lived by the sea and made his living hunting. One day, in a great marsh, he saw a wildfire sweeping through the plants and trees, its flames and thick smoke rising straight into the sky. Almost all the vegetation was burned away, yet one patch remained lush and untouched. Curious, Sun Shou went closer and saw a Daoist hermitage (a place where Daoists live and cultivate) among the trees. He opened the door and found an old man, about seventy years of age, reading a scroll of scripture spread out on a table.

Sun Shou greeted the old man and asked what he was reading. Surprised, the old man asked who had come. Sun Shou told him that he was a hunter and had just seen the fire consume the vegetation all around, yet it had not spread to the place where the old man lived. The old man said that he had lived in this hermitage for more than four hundred years and had never suffered harm from floods or fires.

Sun Shou asked which scripture the old man had been reciting. The old man replied that it was the True Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness, Spoken by the Most High Old Lord. Sun Shou asked what the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness meant. The old man invited him to sit and explained: “Clarity and stillness are the Dao and De. The place where I dwell is clear and still; this is my nature. I keep myself through clarity, stillness, and gentleness; this is what I hold to. In clarity and stillness, I can respond to things and transform without limit; this is my transformation. Clarity and stillness, free of desire, are my virtue. If I can hold to clarity and stillness and transform without limit, what is there to fear? When the time calls for clarity, I am clear; when it calls for turbidity, I accord with turbidity. When it is time to move, I move; when it is time to be still, I am still. If I can practice this Dao, why should I fear fire?”

Hearing this, Sun Shou understood. He laid down his bow and arrows and bowed to the old man. The old man transmitted the scripture to him. Sun Shou grasped its meaning and, as a result, became known throughout the world. Within the Great Dao, there is clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness.

Heaven is clear and Earth is turbid; Heaven moves and Earth is still.

The Great Dao (the fundamental Way of the universe) is formless and without shape, yet it operates unseen within primordial Qi (the fundamental energy that constitutes Heaven, Earth, and all things). This Qi contains both clear and turbid aspects. Clear Qi gathers and rises to become Heaven; turbid Qi flows downward to become Earth. Thus Heaven belongs to Yang, whose nature is active, while Earth belongs to Yin, whose nature is still. Movement is the nature of Heaven’s Qi, and stillness is the nature of Earth’s Qi. Hence the saying: “Heaven is clear and Earth is turbid; Heaven moves and Earth is still.”

The Wenzhongzi says: “Heaven is clear and bright, and so it is stable; Earth is turbid and congealed, and so it can bear and establish the myriad things. Heaven moves and changes, while Earth is still and peaceful. Because Earth is peaceful, it can adapt to the times, weigh circumstances, and respond to change.” These statements, too, explain “Heaven is clear and Earth is turbid; Heaven moves and Earth is still.”

Someone asked, “Does reciting this scripture really bring about a miraculous response?” The answer was: In the Tang dynasty, a man named Bai Renzhe served as a county deputy in Zhuyang. Once, he was ordered to transport rice to Liaodong. On the way, a fierce wind suddenly rose, darkness fell all around, and waves surged across the sea. He was terrified. Then he suddenly heard someone in the sky say, “You know how to recite the True Scripture of the Supreme Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness. Why don’t you hurry and recite it?” Bai Renzhe immediately recited it more than thirty times. He saw golden light streaming from his mouth. Before long, the wind stopped and the waves grew calm. The more than three hundred people crossing the sea with him also saw the golden light coming from his mouth.

After Bai Renzhe returned home, he gave a year’s salary to hold a grand Yellow Register Offering (a major Daoist purification ritual). He also held an unrestricted assembly (a ritual gathering open to all, with offerings freely distributed), and had three thousand copies of the True Scripture on Clarity and Stillness printed and distributed. He lived to the age of 119, then passed away seated upright. This is therefore regarded as an instance of the True Scripture on Clarity and Stillness bringing about a miraculous response.

Men are clear and women are turbid; men move and women are still.

Men belong to Yang and women belong to Yin. Men’s Yang Qi is clear and active, while women’s Yin Qi is turbid and still.

Men belong to Yang and women to Yin. Yang is clear and bright, and governs activity; Yin is heavy and murky, and governs stillness. The phrase “men are clear, women are murky” is used here, broadly speaking, to explain Yin and Yang through the distinction between men and women: clarity and murkiness, activity and stillness, transform into one another.

The Great High One, an honorific Daoist title for the supreme deity, also differentiates Yin and Yang from the Great Dao. The primordial Qi of primordial unity, the original vital energy before Heaven and Earth were divided, encompasses Heaven and Earth and sets Yin and Yang in motion. Heaven is light and clear, giving rise to Yang Qi, which governs activity. Earth is dense and heavy, giving rise to Yin Qi, which governs stillness. As Yin and Yang respond to one another through movement and stillness, primordial essence descends, and all things grow from it. The Book of Changes says, “The Qi of Heaven and Earth intermingle, and all things are transformed, born, and flourish.” This expresses the principle that men are clear and active, while women are murky and still.

If practitioners can circulate the true water in their kidneys and transform it into the Infant, and circulate the true fire in their hearts and transform it into the Maiden—a symbol for heart fire in internal alchemy—then, by making true fire descend and true water rise, they can keep the many spirits within their bodies for a long time without dispersing. When the spirits do not disperse, one can attain longevity and remain in the world for a long time. This too is the meaning of men being clear and active, and women being murky and still. The original text later repeats the account of true fire descending, true water rising, and the myriad spirits remaining undispersed. Master Wenzi said that Heaven belongs to Yang and Earth to Yin; Yin and Yang unite to give birth to all things, and movement and stillness join together. This expresses the same principle.

How can we tell whether the principle taught in this scripture is borne out? In the past, during the Linde era of Emperor Gaozong of the Tang, the official Dou Dexuan was ordered to go to Yangzhou and crossed the Huai River by boat. The boat was already several dozen paces from shore when he saw a gaunt-looking person on the bank. He said to the boatman, “This person is destitute and alone. Let’s take him across.” The boatman rowed back to shore and brought the person aboard. When they reached the middle of the river, Dou Dexuan realized the person was hungry, so he asked an attendant to give him food, and kept doing so until he was full. After the boat reached the opposite bank, Dou Dexuan mounted his horse and set off. The person followed him for several miles. Puzzled, Dou Dexuan asked where he was going. The person replied, “I am not human. I am a ghost emissary sent from Fengdu, the legendary underworld, and I was on my way to Yangzhou to arrest Dou Dexuan.” Hearing this, Dou Dexuan was greatly alarmed. He dismounted and bowed, saying, “I am Dou Dexuan.”

Thereupon Dou Dexuan, weeping, asked the ghost messenger for guidance, wanting to know how he might escape his fate. The messenger asked where he was going. Dexuan replied, “I am not a living person. I am a ghost messenger from Fengdu, on my way to Yangzhou to seize Dou Dexuan.”

Hearing this, Dexuan was greatly shocked. He hurriedly dismounted and bowed, saying, “I am Dou Dexuan.” Weeping, he begged the messenger to advise him and asked what could be done to avert the calamity. The messenger asked, “What scripture can you recite?” Dexuan replied, “I have long recited the Scripture on Constant Clarity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao.” The messenger said, “No wonder I sensed Dao Qi about you. You are kind-hearted and possess the virtue of compassion and aid. I remember your kindness when you gave me food aboard Lord Xie’s boat. I will spare you for one month. If the underworld authorities blame me for exceeding the deadline, I will bear the punishment myself. During this month, you may recite the scripture ten thousand times, and a sage will surely descend.” With that, the ghost messenger suddenly vanished.

Dexuan went without food or sleep, devoting himself to reciting the scripture. After thirty days, he had completed the required number of recitations. He returned home, lit incense, and continued reciting. The ghost messenger appeared before him again and said, “You have recited the scripture enough times, but your allotted years among the living have probably come to an end. I delayed the deadline because I remembered your kindness in giving me food, and the underworld authorities blamed me for exceeding it. They struck me thirty times.” The messenger removed his upper garment, and Dexuan saw dark bruises on his back.

Dexuan then leaned against his pillow and lay down. Before long, he breathed his last. His soul left his body. Looking back, he saw his own corpse still lying on the bed, then followed the ghost messenger out through the northern gate. After traveling more than ten miles, they came upon a great city. Inside, the ground was covered with brambles. They then saw a forbidding government office, whose signboard read, “Northern Office of Fengdu.” The ghost messenger said, “I will go in first. Wait for me outside.” A short while later, he came out and told Dexuan, “The Great Emperor has issued an edict on your behalf, expressly commending you.” Then an official in a purple robe, holding a court tablet, came out to offer his thanks.

When Dou Dexuan arrived, the people welcomed him into the government office. He saw a splendid hall, where a king held a ceremonial tablet made of cold jade. The king’s envoy looked solemn. On the incense table lay an edict sealed with purple clay. The king took the edict, and Dexuan immediately bowed in homage. Golden light shimmered across the document.

When the ceremony was over, the king said to him, “You are an accomplished adept, and already several decades old. Because you have often recited the Scripture of the Most High Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness, you have now been appointed to a celestial office. The punishments of the sinners in Fengdu, the underworld, will each be reduced by one degree. This is a reward made manifest in the world of the living, and you will therefore live twelve years longer.” The king ordered his envoy to escort him back.

Dexuan bowed to the king, who returned the courtesy and thanked him, then instructed the envoy to take Dexuan to a splendid hall. Suddenly, Dexuan awoke. He opened his eyes and sat up to find his family gathered around his bed, weeping. They told him, “You have been dead for three days.” Dexuan recounted the extraordinary events he had experienced. Then he gave up his family’s worldly affairs, went to Jingling Abbey, became a Daoist, and devoted himself to cultivating the Way of Clarity and Stillness.

Twelve years later, purple clouds drifted down from the sky. A boy dressed in green led a pair of immortal cranes down to the courtyard. He said to Dexuan, “Please climb onto the crane’s back.” Dexuan leapt onto it and gradually rose into the sky. After he ascended, a wondrous fragrance lingered in the courtyard for a month.

Dexuan left behind this poem:

The affairs of the human world are tangled and countless;

A fly’s-head reputation and a snail’s-horn profit are hardly worth pursuing.

Better to understand the Way of Clarity and Stillness,

And, when cultivation is complete, rise to office in Heaven.

The commentary says: Movement and stillness act upon each other, and Yin-Yang respond to one another; thus all things come into being. Those who understand this principle can rise to celestial office. Dou Dexuan understood it.

All things flow gradually from their root to their branches, and in this way the myriad forms come into being.

The “root” refers to primordial Qi, the fundamental energy that constitutes all things in Heaven and Earth; the “branches” refer to the myriad things. The saying “The Dao gives birth to One, One gives birth to Two, Two gives birth to Three, and Three gives birth to the myriad things” means that the Great Dao gives rise to primordial Qi, which then differentiates and ultimately generates everything in the world. Here, the Most High Lord Lao once again explains the principles of clarity and turbidity, movement and stillness: the Great Dao gives rise to primordial Qi, which flows downward and gradually spreads, bringing the myriad things into being. Thus, primordial Qi is the root, while the myriad things are its outflow.

The Wenzhongzi says, “Heaven gathers primordial Qi under its governance; Earth collects primordial Qi into a whole.” The formless Great Dao gives birth to and nourishes primordial Qi, which in turn gives birth to and nourishes the myriad things. This is why the root must flow downward for the myriad things to arise. Once primordial Qi descends, it moves and transforms, taking shape as concrete things. The Yi says that after primordial Qi descends, it appears in Heaven as visible celestial phenomena and on Earth as tangible forms; the many transformations then become manifest. Celestial phenomena include the sun, moon, and stars, while earthly forms include mountains, rivers, plants, and trees.

The Zhuangzi says that utmost Yang belongs to Heaven and utmost Yin to Earth. The vigorous primordial Qi moves into the heart’s Fire, bringing Water and Fire into harmony and thereby nourishing the many spirits. The expression “Water and Fire in harmony” is used here to describe the cultivation principle of harmonizing Yin and Yang so that body and mind are nourished. Thus it is also said that the root energy flows downward, and the myriad things are born from it.

Someone asked, “What can one verify by reading this true scripture?” The reply was, “One who reads this true scripture should help all things and deliver living beings.”

During the Tang dynasty, a man named Song Zhixuan once served as an assistant military adviser in Qingzhou. When he arrived at his post, people told him that the residence where he was staying was extremely unlucky: ghosts and spirits often caused trouble there, and six or seven out of every ten people who moved in would die. Zhixuan had long been devoted to Daoist arts and was upright in character. From his youth, he had often recited the Taishang Laojun Qingjing Zhenjing and understood its teachings deeply, putting them into practice as well. He did not believe the rumors and said, “I’ll settle in here without worry. How could I believe such a thing?”

After steadfastly guarding the mind and spirit and bringing body and mind to rest, he then practiced a poem by the Perfected Lü. The poem says: “A single grain of the Golden Elixir can grant long life, but it must be refined from true lead according to the method of Jia and Geng. The fire is drawn from the marrow of the red phoenix in the south; the water, from the essence of the black tortoise in the Northern Sea. The cauldron and furnace follow the laws of the four seasons and the central Earth, while the medicines move according to the changes of the Three Origins and the Eight Trigrams. After purification and fasting, refine them through nine cycles. With even a modest ability to maintain stillness and purity, one can startle ghosts and spirits.”

Zhixuan sat upright and motionless, practicing the method of enveloping the body with a wheel of fire. Red light filled the room as he silently recited the Scripture of Clarity and Purity. At about the second watch, a woman with disheveled hair and a face smeared with blood suddenly appeared before him. Zhixuan asked, “Who are you?” The woman replied, “I am a ghost who died unjustly.” She bowed to Zhixuan and wept as she pleaded, “Please help me. Only today, having encountered a person of the Dao, do I have a chance to tell of my wrongs. I was the wife of Liu, an official in the Court of the Imperial Clan. Ten years ago, my husband was ordered to travel abroad and never returned. His younger brother pressured me to have an affair with him. I refused, so he killed me. My body was wrapped in a felt mat and hidden in the latrine at the northwest corner of the main hall. Filth piled up around me, and I could hardly bear it. Some people once tried to seek justice for me, but they were timid and lacked the Dao’s power. When they saw what I looked like, they were terrified, and many died as a result. You recite this scripture and have accumulated deep merit; you also have a compassionate heart. I beg you to take pity on me.”

Zhixuan said, “I have only just taken up my post. Today is my third day in office, and I will save you. Withdraw for now.” The woman immediately vanished. When his three-day term was over, Zhixuan sent people to dig in the latrine. They dug down several feet but still found no body. That night, Zhixuan sat upright as usual, burned incense, and recited the scripture. Before the second watch had arrived, the woman appeared again.

Zhi Xuan said, “I sent people to look for your bones, but they could not find them. Why?”

The woman replied, “The searchers went north. Less than two feet farther on, they will find my remains. Go look tomorrow morning, and you will have repaid the kindness you have shown me.” With that, she disappeared.

The next morning, Zhi Xuan sent people to search to the north. Just as she had said, they found an old felt mat with a skeleton wrapped inside. Zhi Xuan recited the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness for her again, dressed her in a set of clothes, and chose a propitious site for her burial.

That night, the woman appeared once more, neatly dressed and with her face washed, and bowed to thank Zhi Xuan beneath the lamp. He asked, “Since you were murdered, why did you not take revenge?”

The woman replied, “My husband in life once served in Jiangzhou as a secretary in charge of official documents. From childhood, he could recite the Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao. For many years I have presented my case to the underworld authorities who judge the souls of the dead, but they have never been able to hold him accountable for his crime.”

Zhi Xuan said, “I will report this to that official and have him perform a fast and a jiao ritual to pray for blessings and dispel misfortune. He can also write talismanic texts and prepare yellow registers and white documents used in Daoist rites. Then you will be able to ascend to heaven. Are you willing to let go of this grievance?”

The woman bowed again and said, “I am deeply grateful.” With that, she disappeared.

Zhi Xuan went to the local government office and submitted a false report. After completing the formalities, he packed provisions, mounted his horse, and rode straight to Jiangzhou, where he met Liu, the secretary. He asked, “As a secretary, how could you do such a thing? I hear that you often recite the Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao. That shows you have a heart inclined toward the Dao, yet you committed this deed. Do you not know that human law punishes wrongdoing in the open, while ghosts and spirits keep watch in secret? If you do not mend your ways, how can this karmic grievance ever be resolved?”

Liu, the secretary, was greatly shaken. “Thank you for coming all this way to explain this matter to me,” he said. “How could I dare ignore your counsel?”

He then put his household affairs in order and held a grand Yellow Register offering, a major Daoist purification ritual, for seven days and nights. He invited more than a hundred Daoist priests and had ten thousand copies of the Qingjing Jing printed for distribution.

At noon that day, a woman of about thirty arrived, leading a fine horse and carrying ten thousand volumes of scriptures on her back. She said, “By the merit of this offering, and on the command of the Most High Lord Lao, a revered Daoist deity, I am going to Zhu Ling Palace, the celestial palace of Daoist legend, to refine and cultivate my true spirit. I will be admitted among the assembled immortals of the Southern Palace. I have lived long in the human world, and Song, the military adviser, will also become one of the immortals.” With that, she slowly rose into the sky and departed.

Zhi Xuan and Liu Silu, an official in charge of documents, were fellow Daoists who sought together to follow the true teachings of Daoism. Zhi Xuan returned to Fangzhou. When he reached home, a green luan, a fabled celestial bird, alighted in the courtyard. After Zhi Xuan burned incense, the bird too slowly flew south, leaving behind a poem:

“In a future life, attain purity and awaken to the true scripture;

Release the guilty from sin, aid the distressed, and free them from punishment.

Today, by the power of this merit,

In Zhu Ling Palace I will refine spirit and form.”

The commentary says: Those who cultivate the Dao draw on such merit to realize the Great Dao, practice the Way, and accumulate merit. They understand how all things flow outward from their source, from root to branch, and know the causes by which all things come into being. They aid those in danger, relieve those in hardship, and resolve calamities and enmities. If they can preserve a pure and tranquil mind and act with compassion, how could they fail to become immortals of the Southern Palace? Song Zhi Xuan has already attained a place among them. This is because he understood how things flow from their source and give rise to the myriad beings.

Purity and stillness are the source of turbidity and disorder; movement is the foundation of stillness.

“Pure” refers to the single Qi of the Dao, the source-energy from which all things arise in the cosmos. “Turbid” refers to the myriad things that come from it. “Movement” refers to consciousness; “stillness” refers to the body. The Most High Lord Lao said that the Dao takes the single Qi as the ancestral source of all things. A person’s consciousness dwells in the body, so the body is the foundation on which consciousness rests. Without consciousness, the body cannot act; without the body, consciousness cannot remain. Consciousness is the master, and the body is its dwelling.

These statements mainly mean that the Qi of the Dao is the root of all things, and that it divides into pure and turbid. The pure is original Qi; the turbid is the bodily form of the myriad things. If a person can direct consciousness to protect the body, they can become a living being with a firm foundation among the myriad things. Thus the pure is the source of the turbid, and movement is the foundation of stillness.

The Old Man of White Clouds said, “Without the turbid, the pure could not become manifest; without the pure, the turbid could not become manifest either. Without the single Qi, the myriad things could not come into being; without the myriad things, the distinctions within the single Qi could not be discerned. Thus the pure is the source of the turbid, and movement is the foundation of stillness.”

Wenzhongzi said, “When purity reaches its utmost, one can see the turbid: this is how the pure is the source of the turbid. When movement reaches its utmost, one thinks of stillness: this is how movement is the foundation of stillness.”

Those who cultivate the Dao nourish their spirit with the single Qi, thereby making it pure. They nourish the bodily form within the abdomen with the five flavors, so the body belongs to the turbid. The spirit should move in accordance with circumstances, while the body should remain still and settled. This is the principle of purity and turbidity, movement and stillness.

The scripture then gives an example. In the Tang dynasty, a man named Yuan Tong from Tianshui was fond of Daoist arts from childhood. He devoted himself to reciting the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness of the Most High Lord Lao, reading it forty-nine times each day. At the age of twenty, he was conscripted as a soldier by An Lushan, and later suffered defeat in battle.

Yuan Tong fled and could no longer remember the way he had come. Stranded in the mountains and forests, he could find no food and grew so weak he could not get up. All he could do was recite the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness. Eventually, he no longer had the strength even to recite it, and could only lie there waiting to die.

Suddenly, a boy dressed in green brought him a bowl of rice. After Yuan Tong ate it, he found its fragrance beyond words. When he had finished, the boy said to him, “A perfected person nourishes a pure and still body with pure Qi; an ordinary person relies on external things to nourish a polluted body. A perfected person uses Qi to circulate the spirit and settle the mind; an ordinary person instead disturbs the mind and depletes Jing and Qi, caring only for the pleasures of the body. From childhood, you have loved the Dao and held fast to your resolve. You have devoted yourself to reciting the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness of the Supreme Lord Lao, and have already attained the fruit of the Dao. The Supreme Lord Lao sent me with this food. From now on, let it sustain you as you cultivate the Dao with your mind and spirit; you need not eat ordinary food anymore. Your name has now been struck from the underworld’s register of the dead and entered in the immortal register at Zhuling, the celestial realm said in Daoist tradition to oversee the names of immortals. The Way of Clarity and Stillness is truly no illusion.”

As soon as the boy finished speaking, he vanished. From then on, Yuan Tong ate nothing more and attained the wisdom of the Six Supernatural Powers, as described in Daoism. He was still alive during the reign of Emperor Zhezong of the Song. The story says the event took place in the time of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang; across five hundred years, Yuan Tong’s face still looked about thirty. He often traveled around the Luoshui crossing, reciting only the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness. People never saw him eat or drink, and called him “Master Clarity and Stillness.”

Whenever someone fell ill, no matter how far away they were or how severe the illness, he would simply lay a hand on them and they would recover. People therefore later called him “Touch and Cure.”

Later, he came to the outskirts of Bianjing and proclaimed, “You want to fall into turmoil; I do not. You want to become muddied; I do not. How can you live in peace when you rush about from place to place? I attained the Dao five hundred years ago, cut down evil demons, and dwell in peace of spirit and Qi.” He rode off on clouds and a crane, reciting these words as he went to the Jade Emperor’s heavenly palace, where he would dwell forever in the Pavilion of Ease.

After the teaching ended, a celestial crane suddenly flew down from the sky. The Master quickly climbed onto its back and slowly rode away among the clouds. Everyone looked up after him. Then a sheet of paper drifted down from the sky. Written on it were the words: “The Way of Purity and Stillness arises from this. The Dao gives rise to many principles.”

The commentary says: The Great Dao cannot be seen or heard, so people throughout the world find it difficult to know or practice. Even though people cannot directly see or know the Great Dao, those who cultivate can truly experience it. The Most High Lord Lao said, “The principles I teach are easy to understand and easy to put into practice.” Thus, the Dao transforms into primordial Qi (the original vital energy present at the beginning of Heaven and Earth). Clear Qi is the source of turbid Qi, and movement is the foundation of stillness. When the clear and the turbid flow into one another, one can reach the Great Dao. Yuan Tong therefore realized the Scripture on Purity and Stillness of the Most High through his utmost sincerity, and in the end ascended to Heaven and joined the ranks of the immortals. This is only natural.

If people can constantly maintain purity and stillness, Heaven, Earth, and all things will turn toward them.

Heaven and Earth are descendants of the Great Dao; human beings and all things are its offshoots. The Most High… This is only natural. If people can constantly maintain purity and stillness, Heaven, Earth, and all things will turn toward them.

Heaven and Earth are offspring of the Great Dao, while human beings and the myriad things are its descendants. The Most High Lord Lao said: “If people can receive the original Qi of the Great Dao, quiet their minds and bodies until they are empty, still, and lucid, and settle their spirit and primordial Qi in clarity and calm, they can comprehend the Great Dao and bring their nature into accord with the virtue of Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth will then naturally respond, and the myriad things will all turn to them. Thus, if people can constantly maintain stillness and purity, Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things will all submit.”

The Book of Changes says: “They resemble Heaven and Earth, and therefore do not go against them.” Those who cultivate the Real should likewise be still and practice Wuwei (non-action), comprehend the Great Dao’s constant, unchanging teachings, investigate the nature of the myriad things, and thereby understand the affairs of spirits and ghosts. Then their words and actions will accord with Heaven and Earth and will not violate its patterns, and the myriad things will turn to them. Thus, if people can constantly maintain stillness and purity, Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things will all submit.

Wenzhongzi said: “Those who can maintain stillness and purity share the same virtue as Taiji, dwell alongside Heaven and Earth, and walk together with the Way of the spirits.” If one can achieve this, Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things will all submit. Is there an example that confirms this claim?

Answer: During the Qingli era of the Tang dynasty, Attendant Han served in Yunzhou. He had a daughter who, at the age of twenty-six, married Wang Gui, an Assistant Director in the Left Department. Wang Gui was her husband. After the Han woman became pregnant, she stayed at her parents’ home. One day she went out early in the morning. Around the third watch that night, a voice came from the northwest corner. The maids attending her were all asleep, but Han was awake. She saw a general dressed in military attire and holding a golden object. He said, “I am General Wei of the Jin dynasty. I have lived here for several hundred years. How dare you give birth and live here? The stench of blood has offended me. If you do not move away within three days, I will kill you. Remember this.” Han replied, “I am willing to move.” The general then vanished.

At daybreak, she had a maid tell Attendant Han what had happened. Attendant Han said, “A woman’s vital energy is weak; that is why she sees such things. How could this be true?” He refused to move and only increased the number of maids attending his daughter.

After the third watch, General Wei appeared again. All the maidservants saw him and fled in terror. The general scolded them, saying, “I have already told you to move. Why have you still not left? If you have not moved by tomorrow, I will surely kill you!” Lady Han said, “Please, General, calm your anger. We will certainly move tomorrow.” The general then vanished.

In the second half of the night, the general appeared once more. When the maidservants saw him, they again fled in panic. He scolded them as before: “I have already told you to move. Why have you still not left? If you have not moved by tomorrow, I will surely kill you!” Lady Han said, “Please, General, calm your anger. We will certainly move tomorrow.” Only then did the general disappear.

After daybreak, the maidservants told Lord Han what the young lady, Lady Han, had said, and begged him to move house. Lord Han replied, “The woman who has just given birth has not yet completed seven days of confinement. How can she be moved? Her Qi and blood are weak; that is why she is talking nonsense and seeing strange things.” The maidservants answered, “We all saw him too.” But Lord Han said, “Women are simply quick to believe in evil spirits.” He firmly refused to move.

That night, General Wei appeared again and said, “I have warned you three times, yet you still refuse to move.” Lady Han and the maidservants replied, “We have already reported the matter to the Vice Minister, but he insists on staying.” Seeing that they still would not move, the general flew into a rage and thrust a hairpin into Lady Han’s chest. She cried out once and died.

Her father came straight over with a sword in his hand, overcome with grief. Her parents loved their daughter dearly. Weeping, they sent a flying letter—a message carried in haste—to inform her husband of her death. When he heard, he was stricken with grief. Ignoring his official duties, he hurried back at once.

As he reached a point ten li west of Sizhuang Town, he saw a woman approaching in the distance. When she came closer, he recognized his wife. Wang Gui wept and sent a flying letter to inform her husband. On hearing the news, her husband was overcome with grief and hurried back, disregarding his official duties. When he had reached a point ten li west of Sizhuang Town, he saw a woman coming from afar; only when she drew near did he recognize her as his wife. Wang Gui suddenly dismounted and asked her, “How did you come to be here?” His companions saw her too. His wife said, “I was killed by General Wei of the Jin dynasty, and now there is nowhere I can appeal this injustice. You are a man—can you not even protect your own wife?” With that, she began to weep. Wang Gui wept bitterly and tried to go toward her.

The wife said, “Humans and ghosts follow separate paths, and they cannot approach me. I have heard that there is a Mr. Tian in this town who has recited the Scripture of the Great High Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness since childhood and follows the Way of clarity, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action). He can move ghosts and spirits and possesses the De that reaches the heavenly realm. Thus the scripture says, ‘If people can constantly abide in clarity and stillness, all things in Heaven and Earth will turn to them.’ Perhaps he can help clear my name. He lives here in town.”

Wang Gui went to visit Mr. Tian and recounted the earlier events in detail. Mr. Tian agreed, saying, “I will pray above to the Mysterious Vault of Heaven and report below to Houtu, the Earth Deity, to seek justice for your wife.” Then he led Wang Gui to a separate room.

At the appointed hour, Mr. Tian put on his court robes, held a jade tablet used in ritual, and knelt in prayer with an incense burner in his hands. He lit seven lamps, recited an incantation, and prayed. Suddenly, a celestial warrior appeared in the room and said, “By order of the Celestial Emperor, I am going to the Underworld Court.” After setting down the edict, the warrior vanished.

Mr. Tian said, “I am now under the Celestial Emperor’s command to go with you to the underworld and order them to seize General Wei.” He brought over a clean mat and had Wang Gui lie down on it. Wang Gui soon grew drowsy and lost consciousness. Mr. Tian sat beside him in a trance and drew out Wang Gui’s soul. The two souls went out the door together.

After walking several li, they came to a great city. The sky was dim, and along both sides of the city stood iron-armored soldiers and officials, each holding a spear or halberd. As soon as they saw Mr. Tian, they laid down their weapons and greeted him in unison. Once he entered the city, an official in red hurried inside to announce his arrival. Dozens more saw Mr. Tian and respectfully came forward to report. Wang Gui heard them say, “The Perfected Tian has arrived.”

Before long, several boys in green robes, carrying ceremonial banners and tallies, escorted a man toward them. He wore ceremonial robes patterned with dragons, a far-traveling crown, and held a cold jade tablet. Their guide said that this was the Great Emperor of Fengdu, the deity who governed the underworld. The Great Emperor of Fengdu and the Perfected Tian exchanged greetings and bows. He then invited the Perfected Tian to walk ahead. They deferred to each other with impeccable courtesy.

The ghost officer asked Wang Gui, “Who are you?” Wang Gui replied, “I am an attendant of the Perfected Tian.” The ghost officer asked no further questions.

Wang Gui entered the hall and saw the Perfected Tian seated opposite the Lord Emperor. The master stretched out his body and appeared before the Lord Emperor. Wang Gui and the others all bowed and offered their congratulations to the Lord Emperor. Wang Gui stood for a while below the steps. Then a youth in blue robes delivered an order: “General Youyi, hurry to the underworld offices and seize General Wei, the ghost of the Jin dynasty.”

A man clad in golden chain mail and carrying a great sword answered the order. After a while, he returned to report, “General Wei, the ghost, has been seized.” The Lord Emperor said, “Bring him here.”

Several officers in official robes escorted a man to the foot of the steps. The Lord Emperor said, “You have lingered in the underworld for many years. In life, you killed many living beings and harmed innocent people.” General Wei said, “I repeatedly asked that man to move away, but he refused. In a moment of anger, I killed him. I considered myself a meritorious official of the Jin dynasty.”

The Lord Emperor said, “You became a ghost and still dared to kill living beings. What merit can you claim?” He ordered that General Wei be struck three hundred times with an iron staff, then banished to North Yin Mountain for a thousand years before release. The officers on either side forced him down and bound him, then struck his back with the iron staff. General Wei screamed without stopping, unable to bear the pain. When the beating was over, an underworld officer was ordered to escort him to North Yin Mountain.

The Lord Emperor asked, “Where is Lady Han now?” The attendants replied, “How could she be here? Take her to the corridor on the east.” The woman who came was indeed Lady Han. She respectfully paid her respects to the Lord Emperor. He asked his attendants, “What is the matter with her?” They replied, “Her dwelling has been destroyed. She may borrow a body and be reborn.”

The judge consulted the register of life and death and found that Lady Han was supposed to live to the age of sixty-six, with forty years of life remaining. At that time, Shouniang, the daughter of a man known as Wang in Qingzhou, was exactly twenty-six years old, and her allotted lifespan had ended. It was therefore decided that Lady Han would enter Shouniang’s corpse and return to life, and the order was carried out at once. Here, “borrowing a body to be reborn” or “returning to life” means that a departed soul enters the body of someone who has just died and lives again.

The Lord Emperor asked the master to leave, and Wang Gui followed him. Suddenly, Wang Gui awoke. The master said, “Sir, this matter can only be discussed in private. It is a secret.”

Wang Gui asked the master to leave, and Wang Gui followed him, though he did not go away. Suddenly, he awoke. The master said, “Official, what you just spoke of is a secret.” Wang Gui repeatedly bowed and asked him to explain. The master asked, “Why did you come here?” Then he said, “I can recite the Taishang Laojun Qingjing Zhenjing (The Most High Lord Lao’s Scripture of Clarity and Stillness), a Daoist scripture on the practice of clarity and stillness, and cultivate in accordance with its teachings. In this way, I can accord with the De of Heaven and Earth. If people can preserve clarity and stillness at all times, Heaven and Earth will naturally turn toward them. When you return home, hurry to the household of Official Wang in Qingzhou and claim your wife.”

Wang Gui took his leave of the master and set off. Before long, he arrived in Yunzhou. His wife, Han, had already been placed in her coffin. He immediately hurried to the household of Official Wang in Qingzhou and recognized their daughter, Shouniang. Three days after Shouniang had died, she came back to life, but said, “I am the daughter of Vice Minister Han. My father is now the governor of Yunzhou.” Before she could finish, Wang Gui arrived at Official Wang’s house. When he saw Shouniang, he said, “Wang Lang has come.” Her voice was nothing like Shouniang’s had been. Wang Gui said, “Shouniang’s voice is unmistakably Han’s.” He then recounted the whole story in detail. Official Wang went to Yunzhou and met Han’s parents. When they heard her speak, they found that her voice was exactly as their daughter’s had once been.

Wang Gui and Han thus awakened fully to the Dao. They gave away all their family wealth, had more than one hundred thousand copies of scriptures printed, and distributed them throughout the land. They also held a Great Offering to Heaven in Yunzhou—a grand Zhaijiao ritual honoring the gods of Heaven and Earth—to express their gratitude. When the ritual was over, Wang Gui and his wife returned to Sishanzhuang Town to thank Master Tian. The master told them, “You may cultivate the Dao together with your wife.” Following his advice, Wang Gui resigned his official post, removed his official robes, and became a Daoist priest, living at Fude Abbey in Chang’an. Han became a Daoist nun and lived at Yujing Abbey. Each lived to the age of one hundred and twenty.

Commentary: When the mind is utterly still, it can respond to things encountered in the outer world and reach understanding. This is clarity and stillness through Wuwei (non-action).

Mr. Tian honored the scriptures of the Most High Lord Lao, carrying out the methods of the Heavenly Dao. Above, he could commune with the heavens; below, he could reach the earth. Thus Heaven issued a decree, asking the Northern Emperor—the deity who governs the north and presides over the underworld—to judge the injustice. It may be said that if people can remain constantly clear and still, all things between Heaven and Earth will fall into accord with them.

The human original spirit naturally delights in clarity and stillness, yet thoughts disturb it. The human heart naturally delights in quiet, yet desires pull it along.

At birth, a person’s original spirit is clear and the heart is quiet. As they grow older, they become constrained by emotions and desires. This happens because desires arise and multiply. The ancients explained the character for “desire” as being composed of “valley” and “lack”: a valley is originally empty and still, yet desire stirs it.

At birth, the spirit is naturally clear and the mind naturally calm. As people grow older, however, they are pulled along by emotions and desires, and become as they are now. Here, the commentator explains the word “desire” by referring to the characters for “valley” and “lack”: “valley” suggests having no deficiency, while “lack” suggests insufficiency. When the spirit has something it loves, emotions arise; when the mind has something it seeks, greed takes shape.

The Kangcangzi says: “Water is naturally clear, but if it cannot remain clear, it is because earth has stirred it up and made it muddy. Human nature is naturally calm, but if it cannot remain calm, it is because affairs have disturbed it.” Here, “stirred” means disrupted.

The Most High Lord Lao describes these two conditions. A person’s spirit naturally delights in clarity and calm, but cannot remain still because the mind does not understand the Way of stillness and is disturbed by attachment; thus the spirit cannot be still. A person’s mind naturally delights in calm, but cannot find it because the pull of greedy desires draws it along.

The Wenzhongzi says: “Those who do not crave are often content and happy; those who crave are often troubled by a sense of insufficiency.” When one does not crave, the spirit can readily become clear and the mind can readily become calm. When one is always troubled by insufficiency, the mind is disturbed and desires lead one along.

Elder White Cloud says: “Desire is the source of covetous love and the root of extravagance and indulgence. If people can follow the Way of stillness and clarity, the spirit will become clear. When the spirit is clear, the mind cannot disturb it; when the mind is calm, desire cannot lead it along.”

Someone asked: “Can people who read this scripture truly keep the spirit from being worn down and the mind from being disturbed, so that the mind is calm and not led along by desire? Are there any examples to prove it?”

The answer was: In the past, Emperor Yizong of the Tang dynasty had a daughter known as Princess Tongchang, who married the imperial son-in-law Wei. The princess complained that the palace was not a comfortable place to live, so the emperor bestowed a residence on her, more splendid than the imperial palace, with golden towers and jade pavilions. He also granted her five million strings of cash from the inner treasury. Yet she remained unsatisfied and submitted a memorial saying, “These possessions are still not precious enough.”

The emperor took out all the treasures in the palace treasury and filled the princess’s residence with them. The doors and windows were adorned with rare jewels, and even the medicine mortars, dining vessels, and water basins were made of gold and silver. Still unsatisfied, the princess reported that the residence had no treasures. The emperor again brought out the treasures in the treasury and made her home more lavish still. Every implement, bed, and chest was made of gold, silver, crystal, colored glass, tortoiseshell, and other precious materials. He also set out such treasures as golden tortoises and silver sea turtles.

The princess’s greed persisted, and she reported that there was no rice or wheat. The emperor opened the treasury and bestowed on her fifty hu of golden wheat and silver rice. She then said that the hall had no seats or curtains, so the emperor gave her pearl-edged draperies and a medicinal charm against cold and heat: hung up in winter, it would bring warmth; hung up in summer, it would bring coolness. He also bestowed on her a jeweled hairpin adorned with nine phoenixes. When she wore it in her hair, it emitted a rosy glow in nine colors.

Whenever the princess went out, she rode in a carriage adorned with the Seven Treasures. Five-colored jade decorated its body, and its fragrant pouches held cold-repelling incense, evil-averting incense, and dust-repelling incense—all rare treasures sent as tribute from foreign lands. Dragons, phoenixes, and auspicious motifs were carved into the carriage with borneol, gold dust, crystal, agate, and other materials. Jade pendants and pearl ornaments hung around it, while a green-jade lotus rose from its roof. Set into the lotus was a golden pearl, whose light cast a rosy glow three feet high. Celestial music seemed to sound from the carriage of its own accord.

Whenever the princess traveled, fragrance filled the roads, rich and sweet; its extraordinary scent lingered for half a year. The jewels shone so brightly that they lit up the surroundings. Those who saw it could often make out only the carriage’s imposing splendor, without being able to see where it ended.

Although the princess was exceedingly wealthy and noble, she still felt dissatisfied. What she longed for fell far short of the immortal realm of Penglai, and she fell ill. She lived in the palace and, from childhood, had often recited with devotion the Scripture on Constant Purity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao. She summoned the court physician Mi Zong to treat her. That evening, she gave Mi Zong an incense candle two inches long to take home. Its fragrance was extraordinarily strong, spreading throughout the neighborhood. When someone came to ask about it, Mi Zong truthfully said that the scent came from the incense candle.

The candle was two inches long and decorated with patterns in five colors. Once lit, it burned until dawn without being consumed. Its fragrance could be smelled from two or three hundred paces away. As the smoke rose, it gathered into the shapes of canopies and towers, and strange, delicate immortal flowers appeared within it.

The princess was gravely ill. She told her attendants to take a precious incense called “Heaven-Penetrating Fragrance” from a box of green jade. After lighting it, she recited the Scripture on Purity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao. Before she had recited the scripture seven times, two messengers dressed in red arrived and said, “The prefect of the underworld invites you to come.” The princess replied, “I am the emperor’s daughter. How can you summon me like this?” She ordered her attendants to seize the messengers, but no one responded. The messengers said, “This is a matter of the underworld. What does it matter whether you are the emperor’s daughter?” The two men then pulled her to her feet. She called to her attendants for help, but no one came to her aid, and she could only be escorted onward by the two messengers.

They seemed to pass through Chang’an’s north gate and travel several miles. The princess’s feet hurt so badly that she could go no farther. One messenger said, “I’ll go and fetch a horse.” Before long, he returned leading a white horse. The surroundings were dim, and they continued onward for more than a hundred miles.

She traveled more than a hundred li through the darkness and arrived at a great city where people also lived. The princess said, “I’m hungry.” The official escorting her replied, “All the food here is burned and rotten. It is too foul to look at or smell.” After a while, a gust of wind blew, and the food returned to its former state. The princess covered her eyes and dared not look.

Then she saw dozens of men and women stripping off their clothes and baring their bodies. They pressed red-hot iron spikes against themselves. Blood flowed across the ground, and in the end they all turned into bloody mud. The princess asked the official, “What crimes did these people commit to suffer such torment?” He replied, “In the human world, they were guilty of extravagance and indulgence.” The princess said in terror, “What will happen to me when I return?” He answered, “You will suffer the same fate.”

Just then, a ghost official with two horns and an iron hammer in his hand came over and said, “Princess, take off your clothes.” She replied, “I am the emperor’s daughter.” The ghost official said, “It makes no difference here whether you are the emperor’s daughter. Take them off.” Knowing she could not refuse, the princess removed her ceremonial robes and silently recited a scroll of the Scripture of Constant Purity and Tranquility Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao (Taishang Laojun shuo Changqingjing zhenjing), a Daoist classic commonly known as the Scripture of Constant Purity and Tranquility (Changqingjing). The ghost official urged her to hurry. She kept reciting as she removed another garment. When he reached out to pull at her clothes, she felt a pain throughout her body, as if hot oil had been poured over her heart, and hurried to continue reciting.

When she reached the words “the three poisons are destroyed”—the inner harms of greed, anger, and delusion—suddenly a golden light appeared. The ghost officials rose into the air and bowed toward the light. Then a perfected being descended on a purple cloud. It was the Perfected One of Taiji. He said, “In the Palace of Great Clarity, I heard someone reciting the Scripture of Constant Purity and Tranquility of the Primordial Lord Lao (Hunyuan Laojun Changqingjing). She completed one scroll, and her thoughts had already reached the realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing). The Most High Lord Lao therefore sent me down to the underworld prison to pardon the condemned.”

The princess sincerely bowed to the Perfected One and said, “I came here because I recited this scripture. I am the daughter of the present Emperor Yizong.” The Perfected One asked, “What crime did she commit to end up here?” The ghost official replied, “She is guilty of desire.” Before long, the Great Emperor of Fengdu (the Daoist ruler of the underworld) appeared among the ghost officials and bowed to the Perfected One as well. Light shone from the Perfected One’s entire body, illuminating the underworld prison.

The Perfected One said to his imperial daughter, the daughter of the Heavenly Emperor: “You must not harbor desires. No fault is greater than desire, for desire is the root of sexual misconduct. No fault is greater than greed, for greed leads to overstepping one’s bounds and to jealousy. ‘Grave’ means severe: a lesser offense harms oneself, while a greater one brings ruin upon the family.

“People in the world who do not understand the Dao know nothing of the principles of purity and stillness or the essentials of calm detachment. They know only how to satisfy their appetites with fine food and wine, and adorn themselves with wealth and splendor, yet they take no care to restrain their desires for food and drink. Craving delicacies is like wielding an ax against one’s own life; extravagance and finery easily invite resentment. Once resentment has been aroused, how could one avoid falling into hell? Why not instead become empty and still, compassionate and generous, loyal and trustworthy, filial and harmonious, prudent and frugal, gentle and humble, and pure in one’s conduct, thereby becoming one with the Dao? Do not cling to luxury; hold fast to quiet and simplicity. Luxury is a cause of falling into hell, while prudence and frugality are the foundation for ascending to heaven.”

The Perfected One said to the princess: “I can save you. While you are in the world of the living, can you give up extravagance and greed?” The princess bowed twice and said, “I can.” The Perfected One said: “I have the five precepts and ten good deeds, the six fasting days and three assembly days, and the five seasonal observances and five prohibitions. Can you follow them?” The princess replied, “I can.” The Perfected One said: “If you can uphold them, you can become a celestial official; if you cannot, you will sink to the ranks of ghosts.”

The Perfected One said: “The five precepts are: first, do not kill living beings; second, do not indulge in sensual pleasure and desire; third, do not speak falsely or deceive; fourth, do not steal property; fifth, do not engage in sexual misconduct.

“The ten good deeds are: first, care for your parents with filial devotion; second, serve your ruler and teachers loyally; third, let go of attachment to all things; fourth, restrain anger and guard against wrongdoing; fifth, put an end to conflict and resolve harmful disputes; sixth, discipline yourself and help those in need; seventh, protect life and aid others; eighth, dig public wells beside roads for people to drink from, and plant trees; ninth, undertake beneficial works for others and remove sources of harm; tenth, praise the Three Treasures—the Dao, the scriptures, and the teachers revered in Daoism—recite the scriptures, explain them to others, and continually cultivate good thoughts.”

If ordinary people regularly observe the Five Precepts and Ten Good Deeds (five rules of conduct and ten virtuous actions), they will be protected by celestial beings and benevolent spirits, remain free from calamity for a long time, and often receive blessings. The key is steadfast sincerity.

The princess asked, “What are the Six Fasting Days?” The Perfected One replied, “The first, eighth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and twenty-ninth days of each month are the Six Fasting Days.”

The princess asked again, “What are the Ten Fasting Days?” The Perfected One replied, “The first, eighth, fourteenth, fifteenth, eighteenth, twenty-third, twenty-fourth, twenty-eighth, twenty-ninth, and thirtieth days of each month are the Ten Fasting Days. On these days, the Celestial Worthy Who Rescues from Suffering in the Ten Directions (a revered deity who saves beings from suffering) delivers sinful souls from hell, the Three Paths of Suffering (hell, hungry ghosts, and animals), and the Five Forms of Suffering.”

The princess asked, “What are the Three Assemblies?” The Perfected One replied, “The seventh day of the first month is the Upper Assembly of Ascension; the seventh day of the seventh month is the Middle Assembly of Celebrating Birth; and the fifth day of the tenth month is the Lower Assembly of Establishing Life.”

The princess asked, “What are the Five Lustrations?” The Perfected One replied, “The first day of the first month is the Heavenly Lustration; the fifth day of the fifth month is the Earthly Lustration; the seventh day of the seventh month is the Lustration of the Dao and De; the fifth day of the tenth month is the Lustration of the People’s Year; and the twelfth month is the Lustration of the Kings and Lords.”

The princess asked, “What are the Five Taboo Days?” The Perfected One replied, “First, on a Jiazi day, the Perfected Lord Taiyi (a revered Daoist deity) records people’s offenses. Second, on a Gengshen day, the Three Corpses (spirits said to dwell within the body, observe a person’s faults, and report them) report people’s offenses. Third, on a person’s birth-year day, the stellar official of that person’s birth-year examines their merits and deeds. Fourth, on the days marking the Eight Seasonal Nodes, the Eight Spirits inspect people’s good and evil actions. Fifth, on the Three Origin Days, the Three Officials of Heaven, Earth, and Water record people’s blessings and offenses.”

The Perfected One of the Supreme Ultimate said, “On these days, one may perform a Jiao offering (a Daoist rite to pray for blessings and avert calamity), observe a purification fast (keep the precepts, maintain purity, and perform fasting rites), recite and uphold the scriptures, and make offerings to the deities, thereby praying for fine blessings.”

The princess bowed and prostrated herself before the Perfected One, saying, “I will follow the instructions of the Dao in every detail.” The Perfected One then emitted light, illuminating the darkness of hell, so that all beings there could ascend to heaven.

The blue-robed attendant quickly brought the princess back. The Perfected One then ascended to Heaven and departed. The Great Emperor of Northern Yin and Fengdu, ruler of the underworld, and all the ghosts and spirits were greatly delighted. The blue-robed attendant led the princess to a golden gate, opened it, and ushered her inside. Suddenly, the princess awoke.

She found herself lying on a bed of green jade, covered with a brocade quilt. When she opened her eyes, she saw the prince consort and palace attendants beside her, all gathered around her in tears. The princess sat up, clutching the quilt. The attendants said, “Your Highness, you have slept for a long time. We did not dare disturb you.”

The princess said, “Wealth and status are like sparks struck from stone; splendor and glory are like bubbles on the water. Time passes like a dream beneath the Southern Branch.” Her illness was cured at once. She went to the palace to report to the emperor, returned all the treasures to the inner treasury, and asked to leave worldly life and cultivate the Dao. She added, “Wealth and status are like sparks struck from stone; splendor and glory are like bubbles on the water. Time passes like a dream beneath the Southern Branch.” Her illness was cured at once. The princess then went to the palace to inform the emperor, returned all the treasures to the inner treasury, and asked to devote herself to the Dao.

The emperor asked, “Why?” The princess recounted everything she had experienced in the underworld. Delighted by her account, the emperor granted her request and renamed the Golden Immortal Abbey in Chongxian Ward the Jade Perfected Abbey. Once she entered the abbey, the princess never again stepped outside its gates. Even close relatives and the prince consort were kept from seeing her: she ordered attendants to guard the gate and turn them away. Each day, she recited only the True Scripture of the Most High Lord Lao on Constant Purity and Stillness, never growing lax.

Three years later, the Perfected One appeared again amid a red radiance and said to the princess, “You are soon to ascend to Heaven and become an immortal. You must hasten your cultivation and accumulate merit.” Then he vanished. The princess thereupon established a grand Yellow Register Offering, a Daoist purification rite for prayers and the deliverance of the dead. On the night of the fifteenth day of the first month, the Lantern Festival, luan birds and cranes descended from Heaven. The moon shone as brightly as daylight, and waves of fragrant wind swept through the air. A crane came to the front of the courtyard, and the princess mounted it…

A crane came to the front of the courtyard. The princess mounted a luan bird and slowly rose into the sky, then departed. She left behind a lyric in the Tang Duo Ling tune:

“How should one settle the course of human life? Do not go too far in luxurious comforts. Keep to integrity and honesty; be cautious and frugal, peaceful and calm. Treat others as you would treat yourself, and unexpected calamities will not befall you. Reflecting on how limited our allotted fortunes are, seek less and be more content. Break free from the circle of disputes over right and wrong; unlock the shackles of fame and gain. Clear the heart and perceive your nature; for now, pass your days with ease. Quietly recall life’s rises and falls, its griefs and joys. Then, in a sudden awakening, see that life is no more than a dream of Nanke.”

People all said the lyric was excellent, and many copied it, treasuring it throughout the capital. Princess Tongchang’s understanding of the Scripture of Purity and Stillness—a Daoist classic that advocates purity and freedom from desire—serves as proof of its teachings. Thus the scripture says: the human spirit naturally delights in purity and stillness, yet thoughts disturb it; the human heart naturally delights in quietude, yet desires draw it away.

A treatise says: One who can maintain purity and stillness will not be shaken by greed or intimidated by danger. One will not lose one’s resolve for rank and stipend, nor change one’s heart because of poverty and low status; neither slander nor praise will alter one’s expression, and splendor and wealth will not unsettle one’s spirit. Princess Tongchang dreamed that she entered Fengdu, the legendary capital of the underworld, and received the precepts from the Great Ultimate Perfected One, a revered Daoist deity. She was able to accept the teaching and resolutely give up wealth and honor, willingly embracing a plain and quiet life. By fully observing all three precepts, one may become an immortal.

Cast off desires constantly, and the heart will naturally grow still; purify the heart, and the spirit will naturally grow clear.

“Desire” refers to the mind and spirit chasing after circumstances, drifting without rest. “Purify” means to make the heart calm and unadorned. By fully observing all three precepts, one may become an immortal.

Cast off desires constantly, and the heart will naturally grow still; purify the heart, and the spirit will naturally grow clear.

“Desire” is like thoughts wandering in all directions, while “clarity” is like water becoming still and clear. In these two phrases, the Great Supreme once again teaches that one should let go of attachment and set aside desire. If one can release covetous attachments, refrain from sensual desire, and no longer give rise to greed, the spirit will naturally settle and the mind will naturally become clear. When restless, wandering thoughts of attachment and desire have quieted, and the mind is further made clear like still water, it becomes bright, pure, stable, and unmoving. The spirit then naturally becomes tranquil. Thus the scripture says: “Constantly cast out thoughts of desire, and the mind will naturally be still; clarify the heart within, and the spirit will naturally become clear.”

Wenzi said: “Let go of what you are struggling to possess, and cease competing for it; then you can cast out thoughts of desire and quiet the mind. Set aside all things, and you will no longer covet them. Without greed, the mind can become clear. When the mind is clear, the spirit will naturally be bright.” Such a person may also be called a cultivator of the Real—one who cultivates body and mind and seeks to return to the root and recover the Real. Have they not understood the Way of stillness and purity?

The Old Man of White Clouds said: “The noble person uses stillness and purity to cleanse the thoughts; the petty person lets covetous attachment alter the heart.” Thus, sages are always able to cast out thoughts of desire and quiet the mind; they clarify the heart within and make the spirit clear.

Liuzi said: “The spirit governs the heart. When the spirit is still, the heart is at peace; when the heart is at peace, the body can remain sound. When the spirit is disordered, the heart is unsettled; when the heart is unsettled, the body is harmed.” Therefore, one should first regulate the spirit. Sages nourish the spirit through calmness and equanimity. Equanimity means removing cravings and desires. Nourish the spirit in this way, and the heart will settle. When thoughts are still and rest within, they will not be enticed by external things. With the spirit at peace and the heart clear, the body bears no burden. It bears no burden because desire has been cast out; hence the scripture says, “cast out thoughts of desire.”

Someone asked: “Among the ancients, were there people who could cast out desire?” The reply was: “Yes. In the time of the Southern Dynasties, during the reign of the Song emperor, there was a prime minister named Yuan Tianfu who harbored greed in his heart.”

The court’s business, great or small, could not proceed until money had first been obtained. One day, two men got drunk in the street and quarreled over sexual misconduct. One of them was killed. A farmer said to the killer, “If you can produce a thousand bolts of silk, you can save your life.” The killer produced eight hundred bolts. “That is not enough,” said the farmer. “It won’t clear you of the crime.” When the victim’s family heard of this, they offered to produce a thousand bolts of silk in exchange for the killer’s execution. Afraid to die, the killer then produced twelve hundred bolts. The victim’s family had no silk to offer in response, so the authorities ruled that the killer had caused the death by mistake while drunk. They gave him sixty strokes with a staff and released him. The people had nowhere to appeal, and many suffered injustice.

The authorities levied taxes without restraint. At home, the farmer built towers, pavilions, and terraces, decorating them with gold and brilliant colors. His residence had more than a thousand rooms and surpassed a prince’s mansion in luxury. His courtyard was crowded with beautiful women, each striking in appearance. Every meal cost a hundred strings of cash. He indulged in pleasure day and night, and was also fond of the arts of refining gold and silver, hoping to use them to gain even more wealth.

Suddenly, a Daoist appeared at his gate, claiming he knew the arts of refining gold and silver. When the farmer heard this, he hurriedly sent someone to invite him into the residence. He came down the steps to greet the man with a bow and asked, “Master, what art can you teach me?” The Daoist replied, “I only ask for a bout of drinking.” The farmer said, “You haven’t even shown me your art, yet you first ask me to give you wine. Don’t you have some other motive?” The Daoist said, “It seems you can make the living dead and declare the dead alive. You plunder wealth without limit, own a thousand rooms, stores full of gold and jade, and a thousand beautiful women. You indulge in lust to the utmost, yet still want the art of refining gold and silver. Who could surpass someone like you? Why, then, accuse me of coveting your wine?”

Rebuked by the Daoist, the farmer grew angry and said, “What backwater place are you from, that you dare insult me?” He ordered his men to seize the Daoist, but the man suddenly vanished.

Someone left behind a lyric poem titled “Dianjiangchun,” which read:

“Riches and honor, a top-rank office, and distinguished achievements;

Greed for wealth makes one long to build a sturdy mansion.

Just as the family fortune is established, beware lest the King of Hell call you to account.

What can be done? How can one escape? It seems impossible to avoid owing debts to others.”

The farmer read it and felt heavyhearted. He returned to the small upstairs room. Suddenly, in a dream, he saw a piece of gold and eagerly reached out to take it. At once, his body plunged beneath the earth, and he traveled onward through the darkness. Before long, everything around him grew bright. The farmer saw hundreds of people wearing shackles and other punishments. Some held their heads high; others had huge stones pressing down on them. He also saw a sign inscribed with the words “Prison of Greed and Desire.”

At that moment, a person dressed in white, with hair hanging loose, said, “My lord, why have you only just arrived? I have waited for you a long time.”

The farmer asked, “Who are you?”

The person replied, “I am one of the people who was killed. My lord accepted 1,200 bolts of silk from me but refused to pay with his life. Now I ask only that my lord repay me with one life. My lord mistakenly killed hundreds of people, and I too have come to demand lives in repayment. Please give me gold, silver, and precious treasures to settle the debt.”

Terrified, the farmer tried to flee, but the crowd held him back and demanded repayment. Several others then carried over an enormous stone, three zhang long and five chi thick, intending to crush him beneath it. Just as they were about to pull him down and pin him with the stone, someone shouted, “Do not crush my lord yet. His allotted years are not over; he has six years left to live.”

The farmer looked and recognized the speaker as the very gentleman who had once taught him the arts of refining gold and silver. The gentleman then led the farmer into the prison and had him sit on a large stone.

“I am the Star Lord of Venus,” the gentleman said. “My lord holds the highest rank in government, yet does no good and accumulates no De. You have given yourself over to greed and desire; this is the very source of calamity.”

The farmer replied, “I thank you for saving me today. Even if my body were shattered to pieces, I could never forget your kindness.”

The gentleman asked, “Which scriptures have you recited in the past?”

The farmer answered, “I have recited the Scripture of the Most High Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness.”

“No wonder some Daoist energy remains in you,” the gentleman said. “The power of this scripture is enough to surpass even mine.”

“Why have you not heard the scripture say, ‘Always dispel desire, and the mind will naturally grow calm; clarify the mind, and the spirit will naturally become clear’?”

The minister asked, “What does this scripture teach?”

The master replied, “How wondrous! It reveals the very presence of the Dao. The scripture says that the power of practice can surpass my own.” He then asked again, “Why have you not heard the scripture say, ‘Always dispel desire, and the mind will naturally grow calm; clarify the mind, and the spirit will naturally become clear’?”

The minister said, “Sit down, and I will explain it to you. The ears and eyes are tempted by sounds and beautiful sights; the nose and mouth crave fragrances and delicious food; the body seeks comfort and ease. All these arise from desire. If desire is not cast aside, the spirit is disturbed and unsettled, unable to remain steady; one’s resolve dissipates, the Five Viscera are depleted, and body and mind find no peace. When cravings continually linger in the heart, they lead to a life of unrestrained indulgence and entangle a person in disputes over right and wrong. Few can preserve their lives through wealth and virtue if they live this way.

“So the sages keep their eyes clear, unswayed by external things, and their ears quiet, undrawn by sounds. They close their mouths and speak little, set aside deluded thoughts, and no longer worry about misfortune. They value themselves and hold external things lightly. Thus, even when occupying a position of rank and power, their minds are not moved by authority. They cherish the Great Dao and do not covet wealth. Even when they possess abundant riches, they do not grow attached to owning them; instead, they follow their true nature and live freely. Their vast, noble Qi flows in abundance. In this way, the body is nourished and one’s nature is naturally preserved. The mind is not wearied, and the Dao comes of its own accord.”

The master said, “Minister, you should reflect on these principles morning and evening.”

After taking his leave of the master, the farmer heard someone call, “Minister Yuan!” He turned around and saw the man he had killed coming after him. The minister immediately fell to the ground and suddenly woke from his dream, drenched in cold sweat, his heart still full of fear and unease.

At that moment, the farmer suddenly understood: wealth is the source of calamity, and greed is the root of wrongdoing. He returned his official seal and resigned from office. He gave the treasures in his storehouses to relieve the poor, allowed the singing girls in his mansion to marry worthy men, and donated his residence to be made into a Daoist temple. He took off his splendid clothes and changed into plain, coarse garments. From then on, he ate only simple, plain food and devoted himself each day to reciting the Taishang Laojun Qingjing Zhenjing (The Most High Lord Lao’s Scripture of Clarity and Stillness).

The Daoist practitioner followed the prescribed method. After ten years, he suddenly saw the same gentleman who had appeared in his dream. He stepped forward and bowed. The gentleman asked, “How many years have you been cultivating the Dao? Has it been hard? You have now resolved your resentments and debts, but you still cannot ascend to the realm of the immortals.”

The gentleman continued, “Only those who can truly forget desire and relinquish greed are practitioners of the Dao who purify the mind and nurture the spirit. Your name has now been entered in the registers of Zhulings Palace, the immortal palace of Daoist legend, and recorded in the Jasper Heavens, the Daoist celestial realm. I will give you another divine elixir. You may swallow it.” The practitioner replied, “I no longer eat.”

For this reason, the Inner Traditions of the Immortals says: “So long as eating and drinking continue without restraint, the body cannot become light and nimble. So long as attachment to sights and sounds continues, the spirit cannot become clear. So long as thoughts and worries continue, the mind cannot be at peace. When the mind is not at peace, the spirit is not lucid; when the spirit is not lucid, cultivation is hard to bring to completion.”

The key to cultivating the Dao is not gazing up at the stars, bowing to the Big Dipper, or tormenting oneself and exhausting the body. It lies in keeping the inner mind quiet and clear, without clinging to any thought. The way of the immortals lies in sustaining life and spirit over a long period.

To cultivate the Dao is to cultivate the mind. Lord Lao said, “The Dao must be understood through the heart-mind, and the heart-mind must be made clear through the Dao. When the mind is clear, the Dao descends; when the Dao descends, the spirit’s numinous power abides within you.” This is like an oil lamp: its light comes from the flame, and the flame burns by means of the lamp oil. The lamp oil is nourished by the lamp, and the lamp holds the oil. If any one of these four is missing, where could the light come from?

Likewise, light is revealed through the spirit, and the spirit rests in a settled mind. Just as the body has a heart-mind, all things are made whole through the Dao. Without a foundation, what could exist? “The spirit’s numinous power” means the ability of the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and the mind to perceive; the ability to discern clearly the principles of things and to examine what is subtle and profound. Remember this well.

The gentleman said, “Zhulings Palace will await you.” With that, he suddenly vanished.

The farmer cultivates according to the principles of the union of Dragon and Tiger, the harmonizing of Yin and Yang, the transformations of the Five Phases, and the mutual aid of Water and Fire. He builds a circular wall and continues his practice, training for another three years, until the total period reaches twelve years. On the Double Ninth Festival, the farmer departs through the air. Later, people push open the wall and enter to look. The farmer is gone; on the table they find only a copy of the Qingjing Jing and a sheet of decorated paper bearing a poem.

The poem says: How can nature and life be cultivated together? Hold fast to the root. Guard the yang soul and let the yin po gradually dissipate; circulate the fire through the heavenly circuit and refine the Great Medicine. Look deep into the Dantian, and see only red light surging. Alas! Rank and status vanish in the blink of an eye; splendor and wealth pass as swiftly as a shuttle. When three thousand meritorious deeds have been completed and the Dao attained, one may ride dragons and phoenixes through the blue sky, pay homage to the Jade Emperor, and join the ranks of the immortals. Alas!

The discourse says: In the depths of darkness and obscurity, essence is contained; in the elusive and indistinct, there is something. Since the Master came to possess the primordial field—here referring to a cultivator of the Dao—he has cast off desires, and his mind has naturally become still. He has clarified his inner self, and his spirit has naturally become clear. When the mind is still and the spirit clear, the Dao appears of itself. This is what is called the “Dao.” As for achieving real results without deliberate cultivation, he has now ascended to the blue empyrean—the sky, or realm of immortals—to pay homage to the Jade Emperor. This may be called attaining the Dao.

Naturally, the six desires no longer arise, and the three poisons are extinguished as well.

The six desires are the six thieves. What are the six thieves? They are the eyes, ears…

“Six Desires” are the pulls exerted by the six senses, also called the “Six Thieves”: the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. The “Three Poisons” refer to the many desires stirred up by the Three Corpses. In Daoist teaching, the Three Corpses are spirits that dwell within the human body and can arouse desire. The upper corpse, Peng Ju, governs the upper Dantian, the area in the upper body cultivated in Daoist practice, and makes people crave fine ornaments. The middle corpse, Peng Zhi, governs the middle Dantian and makes people crave sensual pleasures and delicious food. The lower corpse, Peng Jiao, governs the lower Dantian and makes people become absorbed in lust and quick to feel jealousy.

The preceding passage of the scripture says that when people can stop their thoughts from following whatever they encounter, the mind becomes settled. When the mind is clear and still as standing water, the spirit naturally becomes lucid. The Great Supreme Lord Lao says that if a person can keep the mind still and the spirit clear, the Six Desires will not arise, the Three Corpses will be unable to cause trouble, and the Three Poisons will consequently dissipate. Hence the saying: “The Six Desires do not arise, and the Three Poisons are extinguished.”

Wenzhongzi says that the aim of a noble person’s study and practice is to advance toward the Dao. Those who advance toward the Dao will naturally have no Six Desires, and the Three Poisons will be extinguished. A petty person studies and practices for profit. When wholly intent on pursuing gain, the Six Desires arise, and the Three Poisons are difficult to eliminate. The Book of Changes says, “The noble person cultivates and examines himself with a sense of apprehension.” This means that a noble person remains watchful, regularly reflecting on and correcting himself. When the Six Desires do not arise and the Three Poisons do not stir, the Three Poisons naturally dissipate.

Who, then, can keep the Six Desires from arising and extinguish the Three Poisons? The scripture goes on to tell a story. During the Zhenguan era of Emperor Taizong of the Tang, a man named Shen Hui, driven by greed, accepted gifts from the people. After his actions were exposed, he was banished to Zhulan. Day and night, he recited the Scripture of Great Supreme Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness, often facing Mount Tai to pay his respects and pray that he might return home. Bingling Gong, son of the Lord of the Eastern Peak, the deity who governs Mount Tai, had once traveled to the Western Peak for a gathering. On his return, he saw Shen Hui reciting the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness and said from the sky, “This man cannot return.”

When Shen Hui returned to Mount Dongyue, he told the prefect lord about what had happened. The lord said, “Good.” He then ordered someone to take Shen Hui to a side pavilion. Shen Hui sat there for a while. At noon, he saw an official in red arrive with a message: “The prefect lord requests your presence.” Shen Hui asked, “Which prefect lord?” The official replied, “The prefect lord of Mount Dongyue.”

Shen Hui was startled. He hurriedly fetched his official robes and followed the official out of the city. The official said, “The place where we are standing is more than three thousand li from Mount Tai.” Shen Hui asked, “How can we get there?” The official replied, “We can borrow a horse here.” Shen Hui waited beneath a tree. The official went into the temple and soon came out leading a blue-green horse, though it was no bigger than a donkey. “Mount the horse,” the official said, “and keep your eyes tightly shut.”

Shen Hui mounted and closed his eyes. He felt himself moving as swiftly as a fierce wind. When the official told him to open his eyes, he saw a city ahead of him, and they entered it. Brambles grew thick along the city walls. They then came to an official compound guarded on all sides by soldiers in iron armor. The official held the horse while Shen Hui dismounted, then led him into the compound.

A military clerk, an official in charge of military documents, asked, “Who has come?” The official replied, “I have brought him here at the prefect lord’s command.” He then led Shen Hui through a third gate. The official told Shen Hui to wait there while he went in to announce his arrival. After a while, an officer responsible for receiving visitors came out and said, “The prefect lord summons the official Shen Hui to an audience.”

Shen Hui followed him inside at once and came to a splendid hall. Pearls and deep red curtains hung all around it. The hall was called the Hall of Morning Light. The official told Shen Hui to stop at the foot of the hall. Beside it stood ghost soldiers clad in golden armor as guards. Two boys in blue robes drew back the curtain, and Shen Hui saw a man seated upright. He wore a long-travel crown and a blue imperial robe embroidered with coiling dragons, and held a cold jade tablet, the ceremonial tablet carried at court audiences.

A man stood nearby wearing a golden moth-shaped hat, a crimson robe, and a blue indigo jade belt. He appeared to be about thirty. He told the boy in green to summon Shen Hui to the hall. Shen Hui came in, trembling with fear and unable to take a step. The boy in green helped him up to the hall, where Shen Hui bowed to the man. The Prefect of the Underworld ordered a couch brought for him to sit on.

The Prefect said, “When people commit evil and escape punishment from other people, they are certain to be punished by ghosts and spirits. Yesterday you committed a grave crime, and so you brought punishment and exile upon yourself. You were able to recite the Jing of Clarity and Stillness by the Supreme Lord Lao. In a single year, you recited it more than ten thousand times, earning great merit. That is why you were allowed to come and pay your respects to me. By order of the Celestial Emperor, I will not let you fall onto the path of transmigration. If, in reciting this Jing, you can also understand its meaning, practice in accordance with it, and explain and discuss it with others, your merit will grow further. If you can guide even one person to turn toward the Dao, your merit will increase still more. With such merit, you can become not only a ghost immortal, but also an earth immortal or a spirit immortal. How could you fall again into the cycle of birth and death?”

When he had finished speaking, a ghost official dressed in scarlet spread a document on the desk and pointed to it. “Mu Rengui is standing below the hall with a tablet in his hands. He is Shen Hui’s uncle by marriage.” Shen Hui turned his face away, not daring to look at him.

The Prefect said, “You held office as governor of Donghai Commandery, yet you did not govern the people with integrity and fairness. Instead, you gave in to greed and killed a commoner named A-Zhao.” Mu Rengui replied, “I would not dare.” The Prefect then ordered the murdered A-Zhao to be brought in. A-Zhao was brought from beneath the eastern gallery, dressed in white with his hair loose, and appeared to be about thirty.

A Zhao said, “An elderly woman in her seventies died after years of illness. Her younger daughter wanted to seize the family property and was jealous of her sister-in-law, so she secretly plotted to frame her. The old woman had once placed her niece, Mu Rengui, in the younger daughter’s care. Mu Rengui accepted one hundred taels of gold from the younger daughter, believed her accusation, and ruled that the sister-in-law had murdered the old woman, sentencing her to death. I hope the Lord of the Prefecture, the spirit who governs the affairs of the underworld in this region, will judge this wrongful case.”

Mu Rengui concealed the truth and said, “This woman did indeed murder the old woman.” The Lord ordered his attendants to bring her before the Mirror of Karma, which reveals the good and evil deeds and offenses of a person’s life. In the mirror appeared the scene of Mu Rengui taking the bribe and falsely accusing A Zhao. She could no longer hide what she had done.

The Lord said, “No fault is greater than greed, no calamity greater than avarice, and no crime more serious than murder. You have committed all three. How could you be pardoned? Bring her forward.”

Two ghost attendants carried in an iron bed and set it before the hall, then ordered Mu Rengui to undress. Before she had finished, they hooked her cheeks. Flames burst forth at once, burning away half her face. Her clothes fell off by themselves, and the attendants laid her on the iron bed, nailing her body to it. Flames immediately rose beneath the bed. She suffered in the blazing fire, and her screams were too terrible to hear. After some time, the fire torture finally stopped; her body had been burned to ash.

A moment later, a ghost official carrying a fan came in and called, “Mu Rengui!” He waved the fan once, and her body returned to its former shape. The official then placed an iron cangue around her neck.

Shen Hui suddenly rose and said, “This person is my aunt’s husband. I can still save her.” The Lord said, “She falsely accused others, fought to seize property, and caused someone’s death. On what grounds should she be pardoned?”

Bingling Duke said, “Unless this woman is willing to let the matter go, there is nothing more to be done. The calamity can be averted only by accumulating great merit in the human world and pleading with the myriad saints and praying to the thousand perfected ones—or if the Most High Lord Lao issues a flying edict, a heavenly decree delivered with great speed, first allowing the wronged person to ascend the cloud road and enter the celestial realm.”

Shen Hui said, “I will have Rengui admire the principles of benevolence and righteousness, correct his past wrongs, cast off the six desires—the cravings of the six senses—and no longer give rise to the three poisons of greed, anger, and delusion. I will also establish the Most High Celestial Altar of the Great Luo, a grand Daoist purification ritual, on his behalf, and hold a liturgy in which the Celestial Worthy grants forgiveness for sins. Will this allow Zhao to ascend to heaven and spare Rengui from suffering?”

The king replied, “If he can reform himself, cast off the six desires, and give rise to none of the three poisons, and if you establish the Most High Celestial Altar of the Great Luo and hold a liturgy in which the Celestial Worthy grants forgiveness for sins, then Zhao can ascend to heaven and Rengui can be spared suffering.” The king added, “This can be done. But Rengui’s allotted years in the human world are not yet over; he has five years left. His two souls will be seized and sent to the underworld authorities for punishment, while one soul remains in the human world to watch over his body. His body will also break out in foul sores, and the pain will not stop. When his five years are up, he will die. Afterward, he must return to the underworld to complete his punishment. Then he may be reborn as a pig or a sheep, or be reborn as a human being. If he is human again, he will still suffer punishment and die.”

After hearing this, Shen Hui hurriedly recited the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness. The Lord of the Underworld, fearing that the recitation would shake the prisons of hell, said, “For now, you may return. Do not give rise to greed, and do not stir the thoughts of the three poisons. You have sincerely bowed in thanks and recited the scripture; it is not that you have failed to receive Heaven’s pardon. When you return to your home village, go to Rengui and urge him to give rise to less greed. That will suffice.”

An underworld official said, “See Shen Hui back.” Shen Hui descended from the hall, bowed farewell to the Lord of the Underworld, and left. The official said, “Follow closely behind me on the way back.” They came to a river. As they crossed, a sudden crash rang out. Shen Hui was startled and immediately awoke, drenched in cold sweat. He saw his family gathered around him, all weeping. Shen Hui at once sat up. His family told him, “You have been dead for three days. Only your chest was still faintly warm, and your breath had not completely ceased.” Shen Hui raised himself and looked around. “So the underworld really does have such power,” he said.

He said to everyone, “Do not give rise to greed. Continue to recite the true scripture with the same care as before.” Three days later, imperial grace indeed came down: the court granted a general amnesty throughout the realm, and those sentenced to death, exile, or banishment to the frontier were pardoned and allowed to return home.

At this time, Shen Hui traveled to Donghai Commandery. His uncle by marriage, Mu Rengui, had been bedridden for three months. Sores and boils covered his body, filling the bed with pus and blood, and the pain was unbearable. Mu Rengui was delighted to see Shen Hui and said, “A month ago, I dreamed that you came to save me.” He recounted in detail what had happened in the underworld in his dream, and it matched Shen Hui’s own experience exactly. Mu Rengui then examined his own wrongdoings and held a great Yellow Register Zhaijiao (purification ritual), inviting twenty-one Daoist priests. He also had ten thousand copies of the Scripture of Great High Clarity and Stillness printed and distributed to fellow Daoists in various places, and established an assembly devoted to clarity and stillness.

After the merit-making rites were complete, as the midday ritual meal was ending, a woman appeared in the sky to give thanks. She said, “Thanks to the merit of the great ritual you performed, I have been able to ascend to heaven and travel the cloud road.” She left this poem:

“For many years I bore the burden of an unjust grievance, with no chance to clear my name.

Today, thanks to you, an offering was made on my behalf to pray for blessings.

The six desires and three poisons have all been dispelled;

Through the power of this merit, I have ascended to the blue sky.”

Shen Hui gazed up at the sky and bowed in thanks. In less than half a month, Mu Rengui’s sores had completely healed, and his body had returned to normal.

Shen Hui then wrote the lyric “Man Ting Fang” to urge him to cultivate:

“The six desires are hard to dispel, the three poisons hard to extinguish; people are always busy coveting and scheming.

Once one’s allotted years are spent, who can bear impermanence in one’s place?

Even with wealth piled high as gold and jade, nothing can be taken along at death.

Most heartbreaking of all, the evil deeds done in the past must ultimately be borne by oneself.

How can one escape punishment in Fengdu, the Daoist underworld? When the time comes, there is no room for discussion,

like a winter melon covered in frost when autumn draws to a close.

I urge the people of the world to awaken quickly and turn toward a realm of clarity, stillness, and joy.

When merit is complete, one may enter Zhu Ling Palace, the Daoist celestial palace, and there be clarified and purified, refining and nurturing true Yang.”

After hearing this, Mu Rengui reflected that the efficacy of the underworld’s spiritual powers was indeed as described. How could he bear not to avoid wrongdoing and keep faithfully to clarity and stillness?

He then left a poem:

“Clever scheming is less worthy than honest simplicity. If you can see through the Six Desires, you can enter a realm of stillness and joy. When your deeds and practice are complete, you may reach Zhulíng Palace, the Daoist abode of immortals, where you can quiet the heart, clear the mind, and refine and nourish True Yang, the pure Yang energy within.”

Hearing this, Rengui saw that even these uncanny signs from the unseen realm had come true. How could he bear not to turn away from desire, correct his faults, and devote himself to cultivation? He then left another poem:

“Clever scheming is less worthy than honest simplicity. Do not deliberately add the Six Desires and Three Poisons—the deluded cravings that ensnare the mind and body. When all the flowers have been gathered and brewed into honey, who knows how much hardship lies behind its sweetness?”

Shen Hui said, “Time passes as swiftly as lightning. How can we bear not to cultivate?” He then counted the years on his fingers and burst into tears. The two men abandoned their households, resigned from office, and returned their official seals. Together they went to Mount Tiantai, cut thatch to build a hut, and sat in quiet cultivation. From then on, they recited the Scripture of the Most High Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness three hundred times each day. They continued their practice into their nineties, and both attained the Dao.

The commentary says: Intense desire is like water and fire. Fire gives rise to smoke; ice melts into water. When the smoke is faint, the fire is strong; once the ice has melted away, the water can flow. A Perfected One—a cultivator who has attained the Dao—said: “People use desire and attachment to care for the body, just as a fool might care for fish and birds. Seeing that the weather is cold, he puts the fish in hot water and places the birds in a forest ablaze with fire. Water and fire are meant to sustain fish and birds, yet if used wrongly, they kill them. Pleasant sounds and beautiful sights can bring delight, but indulged in excessively, they can turn around and damage life.” Shen Hui and Rengui were both once entangled in love and desire: one had a spouse, and the other had been condemned to death. Later, they awoke suddenly, resigned from office, and went into the mountains to cultivate the Way of stillness. They abandoned wrongdoing and turned to goodness, and in the end attained the Dao. Is this not clear proof?

People fail to achieve this because their hearts have not yet been cleared and their desires have not yet been let go.

The Supreme Lord Lao continues by explaining the preceding sentence: people cannot cast off their desires because their minds have not yet been purified. The Master of the Words says that speaking without sincerity and acting without care or discretion also show that the mind has not been purified and desires have not been cast aside.

Elder Baiyun says that those unable to purify the mind and cast off desire are like people drifting down a river of passion and being swept along by the waves of a sea of longing. Someone asks: Who is unable to purify the mind and cast off desire, and so gives rise to delusions? The text gives the example of Liu Huaizhen of the Tang dynasty. Liu Huaizhen, whose courtesy name was Daoyu, was appointed prefect of Leling in Hejian in the second year of Taiping, in recognition of his achievements. After taking office, he coveted wealth and demanded bribes without limit. He amassed millions of coins but showed not the slightest compassion. He constantly extorted money and goods from the people and never settled matters fairly. The local people complained bitterly, saying, “Our families are poor! He has plundered us until not even our marrow, sinews, or flesh remain. We would rather meet the white-fronted tiger of South Mountain than ever cross paths with Liu Huaizhen.” Such was the suffering the people endured.

Later, Liu Huaizhen was transferred to command the garrison at Zhongshan Prefecture, and the local people were greatly worried. His wife said to him, “You now have abundant wealth and high status. You hold the highest rank and govern a region. You are no longer young, yet you have done nothing to cultivate blessings and virtue for the next life.” Liu Huaizhen asked, “What should I do now?” His wife replied, “I have heard that the wealth in this household was accumulated through generations of cultivation by our ancestors. If we do not cultivate blessings and virtue in this life, calamity will fall upon those who come after us. But if we can practice goodness and accumulate virtue now, our descendants will surely continue to enjoy wealth and honor.” Liu Huaizhen replied, “That is so.” His wife continued, “The treasures and valuables in my dressing room, I estimate, could fetch more than a million strings of cash if sold…”

The wife said, “The jewelry and valuables stored in my dressing room are worth about one million strings of cash. Rather than take more money from the people, we could use this wealth to build temples and monasteries, support twenty or thirty monks and Daoist priests, and regularly provide them with ritual meals. In this way, we can accumulate blessings for ourselves and plant the causes of wealth and status in future lives. The state will also learn of this good deed. We will not harm the people, and we will earn a fine reputation. This is how to safeguard ourselves and enjoy the reward of prosperity.”

Huai Zhen was delighted by her words. He took all the money from his wife’s chests—about one million strings of cash—and chose an auspicious day to begin construction. They gathered materials, bought more than thirty mu of land, and set the work in motion. It took two years to complete. They also built a treasure hall, a triple gate, a scripture library, a Dharma hall, and sacred images, providing all the necessary facilities. Huai Zhen and his wife burned incense and prayed for blessings every day. Within two years, all the construction was finished. They also purchased five qing of land as permanent property for the temples and monasteries, to support their long-term upkeep and daily expenses. In all, they spent more than one million strings of cash.

Yet although they did not take money directly from the people, they had secretly wrung the people’s sweat and toil from them. Huai Zhen and his wife burned incense and prayed for blessings every day, but they did not purify their hearts or put aside their desires.

One day, Huai Zhen said to his wife, “I have now built the blessed grounds, treasure halls, and other structures without using the people’s money, but I don’t know what reward I will receive in the next life.” His wife replied, “This is something that happens in secret. How could we know?”

Huai Zhen’s heart was never satisfied. He often thought, “I have performed such a great act of merit, and I have prayed so devoutly for a miraculous response. Why have the gods shown no sign at all?”

One afternoon, after falling asleep, Huai Zhen dreamed that a Daoist priest walked straight into the room and addressed him without the least courtesy. “My lord, you are greedy and full of desire. You have built halls and other structures, and though you say you used your own money, you have long been wringing the people’s sweat and toil from them. How could you expect to receive blessings? You already hold the highest rank in this life, yet you still hope to enjoy blessed fields in the next. Your greed knows no end, but the blessings will go to Zhang Xiaopo, a poor woman living by the south gate of Zhongshan Prefecture.”

Huai Zhen asked, “What has that person done to deserve these blessings?”

The Daoist said, “When prices are low, this man buys goods; when prices rise, he sells them to others for exactly what he paid, without raising the price. He also often recites the Scripture of the Most High Lord Lao on Clarity and Stillness. He helps those in danger, gives aid to the poor, treats possessions with care, and protects life. The merit of his deeds surpasses the merit of building temples and monasteries.”

When the Daoist had finished speaking, he vanished. Liu Huaizhen felt uneasy, so he sent a swift messenger to investigate Zhang Xiaogong and his wife. After learning the reasons behind their actions, he found that they were just as the Daoist had described. Liu Huaizhen came to his senses. He handed in his official seal, resigned from office, and withdrew into seclusion. In a quiet chamber, he practiced the Way of Clarity and Stillness, clearing his mind and casting off desire. He and his wife lived together simply and quietly, cultivating the Dao. He also invited fellow Daoists to discuss the Zhuangzi and the Laozi. He lived to the age of 129 and died peacefully.

The commentary says: The Dao is vast and boundless; only when the heart resonates with it can it be experienced. If one does not clear the mind and cast off desire, how can one attain the Dao? Liu Huaizhen used the people’s money to build temples and monasteries, hoping to erase his sins and gain blessings. How could he easily achieve what he sought in this way? Only by letting go of attachment, allowing the mind to settle into quiet emptiness and Wuwei (non-action), and nurturing the spirit in carefree freedom did he truly understand. He cleared his mind and cast off desire, gave away his gold and jade to relieve the poor, and in the end lived a long life and died peacefully. Could anything be better? A person like this deserves to be called a perfected one—a person who has attained the Dao.

Those who can cast off the six desires (three or six kinds of worldly desire, classified differently in different Daoist texts) and the three poisons (afflictions such as greed, anger, and delusion that disturb body and mind) can perceive the subtle Great Dao of the Three Primordials (three origins or levels recognized in Daoism; their specific meaning is explained below). The meaning of the Three Primordials will be discussed later.

Look inward at your own mind, and you will know that it has no fixed substance. Look outward at your own body, and you will know that it too has no fixed substance. Look far away at the myriad things, and you will know that they likewise have no fixed substance.

When things no longer become objects of attachment in the mind, the mind grows clear and desires naturally fade. Once all desires have dispersed, the mind’s fixations disappear as well. Reaching this state, one can perceive the realm of the Great Dao’s “Three Origins.”

What are the “Three Origins”? The answer is: The first is to turn inward and contemplate one’s own mind, entering a state like emptiness and seeing that nothing is defined by a mind that distinguishes and clings. When the mind holds no attachments, where could the six desires—the cravings for form, sound, fragrance, taste, touch, and mental objects, which harm the spirit—arise from? The three poisons of greed, anger, and delusion then vanish naturally.

Thus, one turns inward to contemplate the mind and discovers that one is not attached to it. Free of attachment to the mind, one then turns outward to contemplate the body and discovers that one is not attached to it either. Unbound by form, one gradually enters the realm of Wuwei (non-action), no longer tempted by external things or having the spirit unsettled by them. The six desires have no way to arise, and the three poisons naturally disperse. That is why the scripture says: “Look upon external things from afar and see that none of the myriad things is worth clinging to.”

Master Baiyun said: “Turn inward and contemplate the mind of desire, yet do not cling to it; turn outward and contemplate the physical body, yet do not cling to it; look upon external things from afar, yet do not cling to them. Accomplish these three forms of nonattachment, and you may be said to have understood the Dao.”

Wenzhongzi said: “‘Not clinging to profit’ means not attaching oneself to gain and not giving rise to a mind that covets it. Hence the saying, ‘Turn inward and contemplate your own mind, and discover that you are not attached to it.’ ‘Not bringing harm’ means not treating one’s body in a harmful way. Hence the saying, ‘Turn outward and contemplate your own body, and discover that you are not attached to it.’ ‘Not forcing contact’ means not insisting on engaging or associating with external things, and therefore not claiming them as one’s own. Hence the saying, ‘Look upon external things from afar and see that none of the myriad things is worth clinging to.’”

Someone asked: “What kind of person is meant by ‘turning inward to contemplate one’s own mind and discovering that one is not attached to it’?” Long ago, during the Warring States period, there was a skilled physician named Wenzhi. Longshu said to him, “I hear that you are highly accomplished in medicine. I am ill; can you cure me?” Wenzhi replied, “As you wish. But first tell me about your illness, and then I will examine you.”

Longshu said, “I suffer from several afflictions. When the people of my village praise me, I feel no pride; when the whole country slanders me, I feel no shame. This is the first. When I gain something, I feel no joy; when I lose something, I feel no sorrow. This is the second. I neither draw close to the rich and powerful nor look down on the poor. This is the third. I regard others just as others regard me. This is the fourth.”

I dwell in my own home as a traveler on the Way treats an inn as a temporary lodging. This is the fifth affliction. I regard my native place as though it were the land of the northern and eastern barbarians. This is the sixth affliction.

There are also seven demonic obstructions. First, neither reward nor punishment can move a person. Second, even punishment cannot make a person change. Third, prosperity and decline, benefit and harm, cannot make a person relinquish attachment. Fourth, sorrow and joy cannot alter a person’s intentions. Fifth, one cannot keep the name of one’s state in mind. Sixth, one does not draw close to friends. Seventh, one cannot keep one’s wife and children in check or manage one’s servants. These are the seven demonic obstructions. What illness does this amount to? What method can dispel it?

Wenzhi had Longshu stand facing him, then approached from behind, looking at him against the light. After a moment, he said, “Alas, I can see your heart. It is only an inch square, yet utterly empty. A sage’s heart has seven openings; yours has six, with only one blocked. Now sagacity and wisdom have instead become an illness. This is called ‘having no heart of one’s own.’” Thus it is said: “Look inward at your own heart, until you see that within it there is no heart that clings.”

Someone asked, “Then how does one look outward at one’s own body, until the body too is no longer an object of attachment?” Long ago, Jizha of Wu was on a diplomatic mission to Yan when he suddenly saw a piece of gold lying on the road. Seeing it, he felt no greed. He went up to a woodcutter ahead of him and said, “You live in poverty. There is a piece of gold here.” Jizha pointed it out and told him to take it. But the woodcutter frowned and rebuked him: “From your bearing, you seem generous and high-minded, yet your thinking is so shallow. What sort of person do you take me for, that you think gold could move me?” With that, he paid Jizha no further attention and went on his way. Gold is precious, yet the woodcutter gave it no place in his mind. This is viewing external things from a distance, without letting them become objects of attachment.

The treatise says: Longshu understood how to look inward at the heart without clinging to it; the woodcutter understood how to view things from a distance without clinging to them. Once these three forms of “nonbeing” are fully understood, one can enter the Way of the sages.

Once all three have been understood, the eye sees only emptiness and stillness.

When the six desires no longer arise, the three afflictions of greed, anger, and delusion naturally fade away. Then one can look inward and find no desires in the mind; look outward and find no fixed, real form in the body; and look into the distance and find no eternal, unchanging substance in the myriad things. These three kinds of contemplation are all contemplations of “form as emptiness”: whatever appears to have shape and substance is caught up in illusory change.

The Jing of Stillness and Contemplation says, “Above the mind in meditation, all opens brightly, with nothing obscured; below it, all is silent and empty.” Those who grasp this can contemplate the mind inwardly and find no mind; contemplate form outwardly and find no form; and contemplate things in the distance and find no things. The no-mind, no-form, and no-things found through these three contemplations are all like empty space. Once this is understood, what one sees is only the realm of true emptiness and stillness. Hence the text says, “Once these three are understood, one sees only empty space.”

The Book of Changes says, “The wondrous De of the Dao is made manifest.” This means that by understanding these three principles of emptiness, one can comprehend the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) and allow De (Virtue/Power) to manifest naturally. It is like the Great Void, which contains all things, while what one sees returns to the realm of emptiness. Wen Zhongzi said, “The De of the sage is the root of the Dao.” Those who cultivate the Dao have no mind, no form, and no things. Once these three are understood, what manifests is the De of the Dao and its wondrous virtue—that is, the utterly empty realm of the Great Void. Hence the text says, “Once these three are understood, one sees only empty space.”

Someone asked: “Who can understand these three kinds of ‘nothing,’ see empty space, and attain the Dao?” In the Tang dynasty, there was a man named Liu who, in his youth, went to the capital to sit the civil service examinations during the Dali era but failed. Afterward, he neglected to govern himself and gave himself over to wandering, seeking pleasure in the brothels and under the moonlit night, intent only on momentary enjoyment. Before long, his money was gone and others had grown tired of him. He could barely find enough to eat; he grew increasingly gaunt, and his life became unsustainable.

One day, Zichu went out through the eastern gate and walked slowly onward, hoping to find a way to end his life. But when death drew near, he could not bring himself to go through with it. He sat beneath an old willow tree and silently recited the Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness Spoken by the Most High Lord Lao three times, until his strength and spirit were nearly spent.

Suddenly, a Daoist practitioner came and sat beneath the tree as well. He wore a blue headscarf and a white robe, with a black sash at his waist and straw sandals on his feet. Carrying a bamboo basket, he had a dignified bearing. He said to Zichu, “You have the aura of the Dao about you. How did you come to such dire straits?”

Zichu opened his eyes, saw the Daoist, and was overjoyed. He thanked him and replied, “I am only a scholar. In my prime, I sat the spring examinations twice, but misfortune kept me from passing. After that, I drifted about and lived recklessly until my money ran out, and I could no longer make ends meet. My home is in the Eastern Sea, but I cannot return there; in Western Qin, I have nowhere to stay. My clothes barely cover me, and I have no food in my belly. My present hardship is even more bitter than the calamities that befell the state of Chen.” He struggled to speak, his voice growing weaker and weaker, and suddenly collapsed.

Seeing this, the Daoist asked, “How did this happen?” He then took two dates from his bamboo basket and helped Zichu sit up. Zichu took the dates and hurriedly ate one. Though he ate only that single date, he felt as if he had eaten a full meal, and thanked the Daoist.

The Daoist said, “From your bearing, you seem to have an uncommon nature.” Zichu replied, “I always feel unsatisfied.” The Daoist said, “In truth, you have already received great satisfaction.” Zichu said, “For a man of resolve, being satisfied means attaining a high office and an honored position. That would be enough.” The Daoist said, “Just close your eyes.”

Zichu closed his eyes and felt his body drifting, his mind growing hazy, as though he were falling asleep. Suddenly, he saw a man wearing a purple sash and a gold seal, holding an ivory court tablet—the ceremonial tablet carried when appearing before the ruler. The man had come bearing an edict from the king of Fuyu to summon him. He addressed Zichu as “Your Excellency.” Zichu said, “I am merely a poor scholar from the Eastern Sea, a student of the Yi River. I failed the examinations twice, and now I wander alone, far from home. Why would the ruler deign to summon me?”

When he had finished speaking, Zichu happily followed the messenger out through the eastern gate. Outside stood more than ten people in brocade robes and embroidered caps, with jade belts and red boots. As soon as they saw Zichu, they all bowed low. Then they brought out a fine peach-blossom-colored horse fitted with a jade saddle and gold stirrups. Its reins and bridle were splendid, and its body was like a dragon. A canopy of green set off phoenix-shaped ornaments, while red banners fluttered in the sunlight. The crowd gathered around Zichu and helped him mount.

Overcome with joy, Zichu grasped the saddle and swung himself onto the horse. Someone rode ahead, loudly clearing the way, and the procession was magnificent. A great many mounted attendants followed. Four powerful horses galloped like the wind, and after traveling more than eight hundred li, they reached a city. It was densely populated and beautiful. Hundreds of officials in crimson and purple robes stood in formation, bowing to welcome him before his horse. They escorted Zichu to a palace garden, where pearl towers and jeweled pavilions stood beside lofty jade halls, all wrapped in layers of mist and rosy clouds.

Suddenly, a mounted escort stepped out from among the crowd and said, “Please dismount and rest at the Eastern Splendor Lodge, Prince Consort.” Its latticed windows and doors were all made of crystal and colored glass. In the embroidered chambers, women dressed in finery wore splendid floral crowns, while dozens of singing girls played stringed instruments. That night, Zichu stayed at the Eastern Splendor Lodge. Bells rang from the high pavilion, and in the cool breeze the moonlight gave way to dawn. A singing girl brought word that the Prince Consort was to go and pay his respects to the princess. Zichu was delighted.

Just then, a beautiful woman came bearing a precious chest. Inside was a set of rare jade garments. At night, another fine horse was brought out and Zichu was invited to mount. A company of musicians played as they followed him; the performers were all women from the Wu and Yue regions. They led Zichu into the palace. There he saw purple halls, golden steps, and jade courtyards. The guards stood in orderly ranks, while officials in crimson and purple robes lined up one after another, holding the jade tablets and court batons used in audiences. They filled the court in respectful attendance, bowing and dancing in salute.

A short while later, the phoenix-patterned curtains were drawn up all at once. A drum sounded, and everyone shouted in unison, their voices shaking the land in every direction.

The king of Buyeo climbed onto the throne dais and saw attendants in splendid ceremonial caps and dragon-patterned robes, gently waving pheasant-feather fans. The king ordered someone to convey his words: “Bring the prince consort to appear before me.” After Liu Zichu had paid his respects, the king said, “I cherish my daughter. Her childhood name is Yinfang, and I wish to betroth her to you. The betrothal gifts will be presented today.” Zichu accepted the king’s command. Grand music filled the palace, and a royal banquet was laid out. The king said, “Your wealth and honors will know no bounds.”

That evening, lamps and candles shone brightly in the hall, and fragrance filled the air. Countless rosy robes and colorful quilts had been laid out. Suddenly, a young woman emerged from the Phoenix Pavilion. She was about sixteen years old. Even Xishi and Chang’e could not rival her beauty and grace. At the sight of her, Zichu was utterly captivated. The two spent the night together beneath the phoenix canopy. Here, “phoenix canopy” and “luan quilt” are expressions for an ornate bridal bed and its bedding, while “Taizhen” is a term of address for a beautiful woman.

At dawn, the king issued an order appointing Zichu to office, granting him the title Prince Consort Commandant, and conferring on him the rank of Marquis of Wu’an. He also sent him to govern Wu’an Commandery. When Zichu arrived, Daoist priests, Buddhist monks, common people, and officials from the commandery and its counties all came to welcome him. He governed the commandery for ten years, had two sons, and earned great renown for his achievements. Later, by imperial order, he became commander of an expedition against the south. Leading tens of thousands of troops, he won a decisive battle and distinguished himself in service. The king bestowed a mountain of gold upon him. Five years later, both his sons were made marquises. His wealth and honors were beyond measure; gold and jade were as plentiful as rubble, and his fame surpassed that of all others.

But when joy reaches its height, sorrow follows. Three years later, the princess died; two years after that, his sons also died, one after the other. Zichu was overcome with grief. Later, someone accused him of plotting rebellion, claiming that Liu Zichu, king of the southern kingdom, intended to break away from his fief. The king of Buyeo sent an envoy to summon him to court. Zichu did not dare disobey, so he went to Buyeo. The king reproached him: “You were originally a commoner. I summoned you to become my prince consort, and in fifteen years raised you to the rank of king and gave you a fief. I have treated you well. Why did you rebel?” Zichu replied, “I was originally no more than a commoner, yet now I have become the prince consort…”

Xie Zichu said, “I am grateful that Your Majesty granted me a residence and territory. I have absolutely no intention of rebelling.”

The king said, “You are only an ordinary man, unable to judge your own circumstances. At first I summoned you to become my son-in-law; fifteen years later, I made you a prince and granted you territory. I have treated you well. Why would you rebel?” Zichu replied, “I was originally just a commoner, and now I have become Your Majesty’s son-in-law. I am grateful for the residence and territory Your Majesty bestowed on me. I have absolutely no intention of rebelling.”

The king said, “The accusation that you plotted rebellion was not made up out of thin air. What more have you to say?” He then ordered his attendants to throw Zichu into a cauldron of boiling oil. A strongman stripped off Zichu’s clothes, took up a knife, and prepared to cut his flesh over the cauldron. Terrified, Zichu begged, “I would rather be an ordinary commoner again, but now that is impossible.” Just as the strongman was about to bring down the knife, the oil churned and Zichu cried out. Suddenly, he woke.

The master asked, “Why are you so dazed?” Zichu awoke drenched in sweat, still trembling uncontrollably, and told him in detail what had just happened.

The master said, “You recite the Scripture of Clarity and Tranquility (Qingjing Jing). It says: ‘Look within at your own mind, and you will find no fixed mind there. Look outward at your own body, and you will understand that the body has no fixed, unchanging form. Look far away at the myriad things, and you will discover that they have no fixed, unchanging substance.’ Understand these three principles, and what you finally perceive is emptiness. At first Zichu was poor and alone, yet his heart was full of desires. Now he has become the king’s son-in-law, but these circumstances, too, have no real and lasting foundation. They are like an illusory dream; in the end, they are only emptiness. You still hoped for a higher position, so I made you king of Nanyu. You still had not seen through the myriad things from afar, so I bestowed a mountain of gold upon you.”

Hearing this, Zichu understood and said, “A human life is illusory and impermanent from beginning to end. What is there to sigh over or envy?” Then he bowed to the master.

The master said, “In three years, we will meet at Penglai. Hold firmly to this true scripture, and do not let your resolve to follow the Dao falter. That is what you should wish for.” With that, the master rode off on a cloud.

Afterward, Zichu ate only dates and nothing else. Later, he found a quiet place, built a thatched hut, and sat there in meditation, severing worldly ties and holding firmly to the scripture. For three years, his resolve never wavered. Then, one day, a white crane flew down from the sky. Zichu climbed onto its back and soared away.

Thus, three brief verses were left behind. The first says: Beautiful forms are bright as flowers, yet cannot last. Do not despise their radiance simply because it is illusory and fleeting. The splendor of flowers scatters as easily as passing clouds. Rather than cling to outward forms, understand the principle of the Mysterious Origin, the source of the Dao. When the mind no longer clings to distinctions, the Dao flows through naturally.

The second says: The human body is like an illusion and cannot last. It is only a temporary form, and need not be revered by force of will. One may become absorbed in household affairs and accumulate wealth, but in the end all returns to nothing. Rather than live this way, understand the principle of the Mysterious Origin. When one does not cling to the body, the Dao flows through naturally.

The third says: All things are only temporary lodgings in this world and cannot last. White jade and gold, too, ultimately come to nothing. We arrive with empty hands and depart with empty hands. Rather than cling to external things, understand the principle of the Mysterious Origin. When nothing external binds us, the Dao flows through naturally.

The treatise says: All things arise from “nonbeing,” develop to their utmost, and then return to “nonbeing.” Yet people take shifting, insubstantial appearances and circumstances to be real. Is that not confused?

At first, Liuzi developed desires because he had failed the civil service examinations. Later, he sensed the arrival of an Immortal from on high, who came to enlighten him, and he became the son-in-law of the ruler of Fuyu. He sank into sensual pleasures and enjoyment, and so failed to understand that the mind has no fixed, unchanging essence. Then, after being made a marquis and enjoying high status, he became content with bodily comfort, and so failed to understand that the body has no eternal, unchanging form. Finally, cherishing wealth like a mountain of gold and finding satisfaction in it, he failed to understand that external things have no eternal, unchanging substance. None of these three is real or unchanging: beauty is like an illusory flower, the body like an illusory shadow, and wealth merely a fleeting image. In the end, they bring calamity. Liuzi later came to regret his ways, traveled among the Three Islands, and ascended to the Jade Capital, the celestial palace of Daoist tradition. Was that not a good outcome?

The Book of Changes says: “Without thought or action, the mind is settled. Still and unmoving, once stirred by an encounter, it can reach through to all things.” In governing the world, who could achieve this without the supremely wondrous principles of the world? Wen Zhongzi said: “Mountains depend on the earth; people should depend on stillness. When the mind is clear and quiet, the Dao is within it.” Someone asked, “Who can remain still at all times and thereby reach the Great Dao?” The reply was, “There are such people.”

Long ago, during the Tianbao era, there was a jinshi named Li Tong. He was over fifty and had repeatedly taken the civil service examinations without passing. Every day he recited the Taishang Laojun’s True Scripture of Clarity and Stillness, deeply grasping its meaning. He kept the scripture with him even when sleeping and eating, and recited it constantly. Then, one day, his wife died. Li Tong merely sighed. They had only one son. A year later, the son also died. Li Tong said, “I have been freed from my shackles.” In his daily life, he amused himself with poetry and wine.

Someone urged him: “I have heard that a husband and wife accompany each other through life and are buried together after death; this is only human feeling. When your wife died, you merely sighed a few times. That seems heartless. When your son died, you cried only once and then stopped, forgetting a father’s loving care for his child. That falls short of the way between father and son. What use is all your reading?” Li Tong replied: “I have heard that when Zhuangzi’s wife died, he beat a basin and sang, while Dongmen Wu did not weep when his son died. That is what it means to truly understand things. What have I to grieve over? What have I to grieve over?”

The Supreme One said: “Look inward at your mind, and you will see that it has no fixed, unchanging substance. Look outward at your body, and you will see that it too has no fixed, unchanging substance. Look far away at external things, and you will see that they likewise have no fixed, unchanging substance. Once you understand these three points, you will see only emptiness.”

As one observes emptiness and stillness, even “emptiness” itself becomes empty. Since there is nothing to empty, the thing being emptied no longer exists. Even “nothingness” ceases to exist, and one ultimately reaches a state of clear brightness, purity, and constant stillness.

Constant stillness is the Dao. Since the Dao is constant stillness, what is there for me to cling to? So Li Tong gave his family’s wealth to those who lacked the means to live, and gave his fields to his neighbors. Taking the Scripture of Clarity and Stillness with him, he entered Mount Hua. He pulled up thatch and piled stones to build a hut, where he recited the scripture, ate a little medicinal herb, and cultivated in silence with firm resolve. For three years he continued as he had begun, never losing his resolve to follow the Dao. In response, the Most High Lord Lao sent a divine being to teach him.

The one who had attained the Dao entered his hut and asked, “You are studying the Dao in these deep mountains. Is your heart at peace?” One day, because Li Tong never wavered in his resolve to follow the Dao, the Most High Lord Lao responded by sending a divine being to teach him.