《紫阳真人悟真篇讲义》

The Lectures on the Wuzhen Pian by the Perfected Ziyang is a commentary explaining the Wuzhen Pian. It is included in the Taiping Golden Elixir Scriptures section of the Daoist Canon of China.

The work is divided into seven juan. Juan One contains sixteen seven-character poems in four rhymed lines each; Juan Two continues Juan One. Juan Three contains sixty-four quatrains; Juans Four and Five continue Juan Three. Juan Six contains one five-character poem in four rhymed lines and twelve Xijiang Yue lyrics; Juan Seven continues the Xijiang Yue lyrics from Juan Six. The work is followed by the Preface to the Lectures on the Wuzhen Pian by the Perfected Ziyang.

Zhang Ping-shu, the perfected person of Tiantai (that is, Zhang Boduan), wrote more than a hundred poems called Wuzhen, which have circulated through the world. Learned people believe that this book appeared after the Cantong qi. In my spare time, I have browsed Daoist texts a little, but I have not yet grasped their subtleties. Xia Zongyu of Yunfeng came from Yongjia to visit Manting and showed me his Lectures on the Wuzhen. It explains the chapters one by one and analyzes the sentences in detail. Reading it makes everything suddenly clear and leaves no doubts.

At the time, however, I was keeping my doors closed to visitors, so I could not consult you at leisure and do my best to understand its mysteries. Yet given your character and intelligence, and your broad outlook, you once served in the military administration in Shandong and, under orders, traveled through the regions of Yan and Qi. Your ambition to win merit and make a name for yourself is strong. You are not yet fifty, but already wish to cast aside office and worldly glory and roam among the seas and mountains in the company of Anqi and Xianmen, legendary immortals. Surely that plan is a little premature.

Recently I heard a Daoist teaching: attaining immortality is exceedingly difficult, and only those of the greatest loyalty and filial piety can attain the Way without first waiting to cultivate it. This teaching is remote and obscure, and not easy to investigate. But if immortals truly exist in Heaven, surely they must be loyal ministers and filial sons; no one can obtain such a fate through luck. With your abilities, even if you do not intend to enter public service and benefit the world, the court may not let you remain idle. I hope that while the government is just and clear, you will strive to accomplish great deeds, serve the state, and bring honor to your family, fulfilling both loyalty and filial piety. Afterward, you may follow your distant ancestor, Xia Huangong, one of the legendary Four Elders of Mount Shang, and play among the tangerines and stroll along Mount Shang. There would be nothing wrong with that.

You have also written works such as the Lectures on the Yinfu. Cishu of the Maogang Tower has already written prefaces and introductions for them, so I will say no more. This preface was written in Ji’an by Zhen Dexiu on the third day after the winter solstice in the third year of the Baoqing era.

Among the Confucian scholars here, most are esteemed for their command of the classics, and many take pride in their literary talent. Yet none has ever been able to pass on the secrets of cultivating Zhang Ping-shu’s Wuzhen pian. Xia Zongyu alone received the secret transmission, followed its methods in his practice, and entered the Daoist path. This is truly extraordinary.

When Lord Xia was young, he had uncommon ambition and thought that fame and success were within easy reach. Over twenty years, he successively visited three teachers, Ying, Jia, and Xu. He also endured every hardship alongside Gou Mengyu: setting out from Qing and Qi, crossing the Taihang Mountains, and venturing deep into Tatar territory, where they suffered every kind of privation. Later, things did not go as he had hoped. He put aside his ambitions and stopped speaking of fame and success, turning instead to writing the three works Yaowujing, Yinfu, and Wuzhen. Some in Daoist circles even swore an oath to seek his instruction and wished to become his disciples.

I once said to Lord Xia: “In ancient times, after people had achieved success and renown, they would sail across the Five Lakes and depart to roam with Chisongzi. Yet in the end, they left no writings behind. Do you, too, feel that leaving words behind may become a burden?”

Lord Xia replied: “I am not the sort of person who can soar away and leave the world behind on my own. I am determined to write so that people throughout the world, in generations to come, may return to youthful vitality, leave the ordinary world, and enter the realm of the mysterious. I will be content only when that purpose is fulfilled. Why, then, should I begrudge my words?”

These words are especially lofty in spirit, and deserve admiration and praise. In the second month of spring in the first year of Shaoding, Cao Shuyuan of Yongjia, Assistant Director of the Palace Library, wrote this preface.

All paths of cultivation take one’s own self as their foundation; what is called long life, too, must begin with oneself. Why, then, should I begrudge my words? These words are especially lofty in spirit, and deserve admiration and praise. In the second month of spring in the first year of Shaoding, Cao Shuyuan of Yongjia, Assistant Director of the Palace Library, wrote this preface.

The Dao must be sought within oneself. The so-called elixir of immortality cannot be obtained from outside oneself. Kan, Li, Zhen, and Dui—the trigrams representing water, fire, and the transformations of Yin and Yang—as well as Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire, are all present within the practitioner. Pears of intertwined union and fiery dates, metaphors in Daoist internal alchemy for essences refined within the body, are one’s own essence. Jade nectar and liquid jade, terms for substances arising from the transformation of essence and Qi within the body, are one’s own essence and Qi. All manner of transformations take place within oneself. Ordinary people know how to care for the body, but not how to circulate and refine its energies. Only those who have attained the Dao know the methods of reversing and transforming Yin and Yang. Thus they preserve their true nature and embrace the primal unity, causing the Dragon to arise from Fire and the Tiger to appear in Water. Without reversing Yin and Yang, how can one attain the Dao?

The seven returns and nine restorations, terms in internal alchemy for repeatedly refining the medicine and returning it to its origin, belong to the wondrous grade; the eight returns and six abidings, names for levels or stages in internal alchemy, belong to the divine grade. Zhang Ping-shu, that is, Zhang Boduan, known as Perfected Ziyang, understood their mysteries, as did Xia Zongyu. The Elder of Shouzhang could only look up in admiration and sigh. Respectfully recorded on an auspicious day in the first winter month of the first year of the Shaoding era (1228). The eight returns and six abidings belong to the divine grade. Zhang Ping-shu and Xia Zongyu understood their mysteries; the Elder of Shouzhang could only look up in admiration and sigh. Written on an auspicious day in the first winter month of the first year of the Shaoding era by Zhang Mizifu, Secretary, a native of Siming.

Dongzhen Section, Jade Instructions Category

Lectures on the Awakening to Reality by Perfected Ziyang, Volume One

Written by the Recluse of Cloud Peak, Xia Zongyu of Yongjia

Sixteen seven-character quatrains, used to symbolize the number “two eights make one jin.”

If you do not seek the Great Dao and leave the wrong path, then even with virtue and intelligence, how can you be called a true man? A hundred years pass in an instant, like a spark from flint; the circumstances of a lifetime are impermanent, like a bubble floating on water. People crave wealth, rank, glory, and success, yet take no care for their own bodies, letting them quietly decline. Tell me: can gold piled high as a mountain buy freedom from death? In the end, it cannot.

The Record of the Western Mountain Gathering of Perfected Ones says: Fame and profit are not entirely beyond pursuit, but each person has their own allotted share. Once you see through this, you will naturally no longer be bound by them. Family affection and love, too, are not beyond tending; each has its own karmic connections. See through them, and you will not become entangled in love and attachment.

A human life lasts no more than a hundred years, and few live to seventy. Everything in the world is like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, or a shadow—nothing offers a lasting, reliable foundation. The deluded know only how to chase wealth and status, splendor and acclaim, hoarding gold, silver, and treasures as though they could enjoy them forever. They do not realize that their looks and bodies will gradually decay, or that wealth cannot purchase release from life’s impermanence. If a person suddenly departs like the morning dew, what use are wealth, status, gold, and silver to them?

Only the Great Dao is constant, surpassing all things in the world. It neither arises nor perishes, and has neither coming nor going. When those who cultivate the Dao live in the world, they encounter all things without clinging to them. When they turn away from the mundane world, they follow the Dao and its methods to settle their mind and spirit. Wealth and status cannot disturb them, gold and jade cannot defile them, the years cannot make them old, and impermanence cannot assail them. Are they not truly people of great stature? Otherwise, why would the ancient sages say that immortality can be attained through study and cultivation, and that deathlessness can be reached through effort?

Though a human life may span a hundred years, no one can know in advance whether they will live long or briefly, or meet hardship or good fortune.

Yesterday, someone was still riding at a gallop through the streets; today, they lie in a coffin as a corpse.

A wife and possessions must be left behind; they no longer belong to the deceased. But the karma of one’s deeds goes along with them, and cannot be concealed by self-deception.

If you do not seek to cultivate the “Great Medicine”—the key substance or vital essence in Daoist Neidan practice—how could you ever hope to encounter it? And if you do encounter it but fail to cultivate it, that is all the more foolish.

Life and death, like day and night, are natural laws. Only by holding fast to oneself through the Dao can one ensure that, even when the body dies, the Dao continues to endure. How much more, then, can immortals live on without dying? Thus Confucius said, “If I hear the Dao in the morning, I can die in the evening.” He did not mean that hearing the Dao makes one die sooner, but that even when the body dies, the Dao one has understood can continue. “Liberation from the corpse and ascent to the heavens” refers to the transformation of the body. Immortals can accomplish this because they can pass out of death and into life.

The ignorant do not understand these truths. They rush about in pursuit of status, profit, and desire; though alive today, they may not survive tomorrow. Their wives and possessions will eventually be left behind, while their karmic burdens may follow them. Zhang Pingshu (Zhang Boduan, known as Perfected Ziyang) felt deep compassion for such people. Once you understand this, you should seek the “Great Medicine,” the name for the essential elixir in Neidan cultivation, so that you do not fall into this state.

Yet this medicine is not sought outside oneself. The saying “Everyone has within them the medicine of long life” means only that people do not understand because they have not met a teacher to guide them. Even if they do meet a teacher, if they cannot persevere in cultivation, life is as fleeting as a spark struck from stone: before long, they will undergo birth, aging, illness, and death. Is that not foolish?

Within this method of cultivation, there is an even subtler mystery at its heart. It seems extraordinary only because what I have realized differs from the understanding of ordinary people.

I know its key lies in “reversal,” beginning with Li and Kan, the Li and Kan trigrams of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), often used to refer to heart fire and kidney water. Who, then, understands how host and guest should be settled between what floats and what sinks?

The Golden Cauldron, a symbol of alchemical practice, must retain the mercury within cinnabar; the Jade Pool, where saliva gathers in the mouth, first draws down the silver within water. In cultivation, the timing of the fire must be regulated according to the method. This work cannot be accomplished in a single day or night. When its effects become manifest, it is like a sun rising from a deep pool.

The verses of the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) take the place of the Supreme Lord Lao as they reveal the secrets of Golden Elixir cultivation. The first two sections merely offer encouragement to the world; only this one begins to discuss the Dao’s subtle principles. Countless people have written commentaries on this text, yet none has made its deeper meaning clear. How, then, should we point bewildered students toward the right path? There is no other way: even if you are wiser than Yan Hui or Min Ziqian, Confucius’s disciples famed for their intelligence, do not try to guess at the truth without having met a genuine teacher.

What are called “the subtlety within the true” and “the true within the subtle” are often taken by students to be no more than decorative phrases describing the Great Dao. They do not understand that the mystery of the Golden Elixir lies precisely in distinguishing what is true from what is ordinary. Those who attain the true bring their De (Virtue/Power) into harmony with Heaven and Earth; those who grasp its subtlety become impossible even for ghosts and spirits to fathom. Mistaking ordinary methods for the true path means turning against the Great Dao and damaging one’s life. The perfected Cloud Chamber said, “A single point of Heaven’s secret speaks of Qi (vital energy) and Jing (essence); beyond the true principle, there is no other truth.” The Yaojing (Mirror of the Medicine) says, “Follow the workings of opportunity to reach the highest truth, and transformation will appear and the spirit will be accessible.”

For this reason, Zhang Pingshu, also known as Zhang Boduan, a Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) adept, repeatedly taught people to distinguish the true from the ordinary. He said, “If you do not recognize true lead as the proper ancestor,” and also, “Take care to seek true lead with focused intent.” He said both, “If you want true lead to retain mercury,” and, “Within is the natural true fire.” He also said that one must not use ordinary lead in place of lead, and that even after using true lead, one must ultimately set it aside. All these sayings urge people to discern the difference between the true and the ordinary. This distinction is the foundation for knowing the Great Dao and the gateway to Golden Elixir cultivation. How could it not deserve careful thought?

The Li trigram is in the south, at the Wu position, and belongs to Yang and Fire; the Kan trigram is in the north, at the Zi position, and belongs to Yin and Water. Yang Fire rises, while Yin Water flows downward, so at first they seem separated above and below, unable to unite. Yet the middle line of Li is a Yin line, giving it the form of Yang on the outside and Yin within. The Yin line bears the Yang line and tends downward, so Yin descends and Yang follows it. The middle line of Kan is a Yang line, giving it the form of Yin on the outside and Yang within. The Yang line bears the Yin lines and tends upward, so Yang rises and Yin follows it.

The principle of Yin and Yang rising and descending, however, is not the same as the cultivation method that inverts Kan and Li. People of the world cling to surface explanations. They often identify the heart with Li and the kidneys with Kan, and believe that bringing heart and kidneys together, or bringing Water and Fire into balance, is Golden Elixir cultivation. This is mistaken. At most, it is a way to nourish body and mind and make a person feel at ease. Both heart and kidneys are physical organs, subject to change and decline. How could they be the Great Dao itself?

Only immortals understand the method of inverting Kan and Li known as “empty Kan, full Li.” Before the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) divided, all things were one undifferentiated whole. Where could there have been Li or Kan? Later, Heaven gave rise to Water as the first of the Five Phases, and Earth gave rise to Fire as the second; only after Water and Fire separated did the Kan and Li trigrams take shape. Two Yin lines enclosing one Yang form Kan. The center of Kan is full; its outer form resembles Water, yet within it is Yang Fire. In cultivation, immortals refine away the Yang at its center, making the middle of Kan empty and bringing forth Yang Fire to use in Golden Elixir practice. Two Yang lines enclosing one Yin form Li. The center of Li is empty; its outer form resembles Fire, yet within it is Yin Water. In cultivation, immortals refine and transform the Yin at its center, making the middle of Li full and joining it into a Yang line, so that it becomes a body of pure Yang. In this way, Kan becomes empty and transforms into Kun, while Li becomes full and transforms into Qian.

This is the meaning of “the Dao of Qian brings about transformation, and each thing is given its proper nature and life.” The phrase “take the fullness at the heart of the Kan position and place it in the Li palace” refers precisely to taking the Yang line at the center of Kan and moving it into the center of Li, so that Li changes from empty to full. Bringing heart and kidneys together and balancing Water and Fire are not the same as this cultivation.

The saying about “floating and sinking, host and guest” is not a metaphor either. Within the human body, these relationships are real: some parts float and others sink; some are host and others guest. The Qi channels run through them unseen and are never severed. If what is sunk is damaged, what floats is also damaged; if the host is depleted, the guest is depleted as well. So if one wishes cinnabar and mercury to remain in the Golden Cauldron, the symbolic place of alchemical work, one must first settle mercury in the Jade Pool, a Neidan term for an important site in cultivation. Then the roots can flourish and the tips grow; the deeper the source, the farther the stream will run.

Yet mercury and lead, the two medicines, cannot bring about transformation on their own. They must be aided by the mysterious timing of the Fire, with increase and decrease carefully regulated and directed. Only then will the Mysterious Pearl, a Neidan term for the Elixir once formed, emerge and take shape, its color bright and clear, and the Golden Elixir be completed. The fruits of the Dao can be perfected in less than a day. Lord Haichan, Liu Haichan, a Daoist Neidan adept, said, “Sink to the bottom of the sea and bring up the sun.” Is this not like the disk of the sun appearing in a deep pool? When attainment of the Dao reaches such a state, one will believe that one truly differs from ordinary people.

This passage has fully explained the core principles of Golden Elixir cultivation; once the fruits of the Dao are realized, the work is complete. Master Haichan said, “Sink to the bottom of the sea, then bring up the sun.” Is this not a vision of the sun appearing in a deep pool? One who attains the Dao in this way may trust that their realization is unlike that of ordinary people.

This passage lays bare the foundations of the Golden Elixir and reveals the secrets of Heaven. If those who study the Dao can grasp its principles through the words, they will be able to perceive the existence of the Great Dao for themselves, without becoming bound to the three thousand six hundred methods of cultivation.

The tiger leaps and the dragon soars; winds and waves surge. At the central, upright position, a bright pearl takes shape. The intertwining movement of tiger and dragon here symbolizes the union of Yin-Yang Qi, while the bright pearl represents the Golden Elixir that coalesces through cultivation.

Fruit grows on a branch and, in time, ripens. A fetus develops in its mother’s womb, following the same principle as the growth of fruit. Cultivation, too, must pass through gestation and growth before it can finally bear fruit.

The origins of the Northern and Southern schools can both be traced through changes in the trigrams. The timing of the fire phases, morning and evening, must also accord with the pivotal patterns of the heavenly bodies. Here, “fire phases” refers to regulating the breath and the stages of cultivation; the “celestial pivot” refers to the key patterns governing the movements of the heavenly bodies.

Know that those who have truly cultivated often live quietly amid the bustle of the marketplace. Do not think only of going deep into the mountains to remain alone in stillness.

The dragon represents Yang and the tiger represents Yin. Their union is described through the image of dragon and tiger. In only a brief time, the mysterious pearl—the essence refined in Neidan practice—forms in its proper place. This “proper place” is the position where the Yellow Center’s patterns are connected, the central, pivotal position in the course of Neidan. It is like fruit growing on a branch, with its seed taking shape inside the core. The movement of Qi follows its circuit through the body, and when the time comes, it matures naturally.

The roots of the Northern and Southern schools, when explained through the trigrams, are the principle of reversing Kan and Li described earlier. Daoguang said, “Facing south, gaze at the Northern Dipper; in stillness, gather the true lead.” This is what he meant. The timing of morning and evening practice should accord with the Celestial Pivot, the star of the Northern Dipper that symbolizes the axis of rotation. This is the meaning of “Tun at dawn, Meng at dusk”: in the morning, correspond to the Tun hexagram; in the evening, to the Meng hexagram, so that the rhythm of practice accords with Heaven and Earth. All of this follows nature’s timing. It is not accomplished by sitting and observing the Gengshen day, or by regulating the breath according to the Zi and Wu hours.

Anyone who has attained this way of cultivation can practice, whatever their rank and whether they live in a bustling city or in the mountains. With the resolve to cultivate, one may do so even while serving at court or living among ordinary people.

The Perfected Wang Ding said, “The tiger within Kan, the dragon within Li, the essence of the tortoise, and the marrow of the phoenix—you must already have grasped the essentials of the alchemical method. A lamp’s flame in the wind cannot be kept alight for long; you should advance in practice without delay. This does not mean deliberately visualizing the kidneys, nor sitting alone in a barren corner of the mountains. Do you know that the medicine is right before you, rising and falling with the movement of Qi day and night? If you can seize even a little Yang essence, why seek the wondrous secret elsewhere? Let Qujiang grow clear, and let the spirit-water flow west. Keep the Qi of Metal and Wood unobstructed, and unite the Yang soul with the Yin po-soul. Amid undivided chaos, a radiance like the red sun shines forth, gathered within the cauldron.”

Yellow Sprout and White Snow are not hard to find; what matters is the practitioner’s deep De. The Four Images and Five Phases all depend on Earth; the Three Primordial Forces and Eight Trigrams cannot be separated from Ren Water. Once the numinous substance has been refined, ordinary people cannot recognize it. When the Yin demons have been dispelled, ghosts and spirits can no longer intrude. The secret is meant to be passed on to the world, but no one who truly understands it has yet appeared.

Yellow Sprout and White Snow are the nine grades of superior elixirs spoken of by the ancient sages. Take the Wood essence of the Primordial Sovereign, and use Water and Fire as the cauldron. Refine and nourish it over a long span of time, without counting the years, and allow nothing to disturb it. The secret is meant to be passed on to the world, but no one who truly understands it has yet appeared.

Yellow Sprout and White Snow are the superior elixirs spoken of by the sages of antiquity. To refine them, one takes the Wood Essence of the Primordial Sovereign—a subtle ingredient in Daoist alchemy—and uses a water-and-fire vessel, an implement that regulates and cultivates the ingredients through water and fire. After refining them over a long period, without regard to the passing years, the ingredients naturally congeal and reveal auspicious signs of their essence, shedding the ordinary properties of such materials as cinnabar and mercury. This may be called bringing something forth from nothing and ascending beyond the ordinary into sagehood. Once consumed, the elixir can transform the body, renew it from within, and ultimately enable ascension. How could ordinary people recognize such a treasure?

In the context of Neidan, or internal alchemy—cultivation in which the inner Jing, Qi, and Shen are the ingredients and the body is the furnace and vessel—Yellow Sprout and White Snow are also two treasures. Yet those with little good fortune or shallow cultivation often feel that their De is deficient, and so find these treasures hard to obtain. Zhang Boduan, styled Pingshu, therefore urged Daoist practitioners to accumulate hidden and open merit—doing good deeds in private and in public—so that they might bring themselves into harmony with Heaven and Earth. He also pointed out a path that is not difficult to find: the Four Images and Five Phases all depend on Earth, while the Three Primordial Energies and Eight Trigrams all depend on Ren Water. Earth gives rise to Yellow Sprout, and Ren Water gives rise to White Snow.

Earth occupies the center and is yellow in color. The Azure Dragon belongs to Wood, the White Tiger to Metal, the Vermilion Bird to Fire, and the Black Tortoise to Water. Without Earth, the Five Phases in the four directions cannot complete their transformations and generation. Earth is therefore the sovereign of the Five Phases and nourishes all things. Lü the Immortal, Lü Dongbin, said, “Thunder stirs; rain falls on the mountain’s crest, gradually watering Yellow Sprout as it emerges from the soil.” He was describing rainwater gradually nourishing Yellow Sprout until it breaks through the earth.

Ren belongs to the Water position, is generated by Metal, and is white in color, with a cool nature. The Three Primordial Energies of Heaven, Earth, and humanity, as well as the Eight Trigrams—Qian, Kun, Gen, Xun, Kan, Li, Zhen, and Dui—all depend on Ren Water. Water is the mother of the Golden Elixir. Ren also symbolizes the first stirrings of Yang Qi, just as the movement of a single Yang marks the beginning of elixir cultivation. An ancient verse says, “To cultivate the Dao, one must seek the mystery in the water palace; in the empty chamber, light is born.” This means that cultivation must seek the mystery within water, and that when the mind is still and empty, light arises. Thus White Snow is born from Ren Water.

If practitioners can refine this numinous treasure, they can dispel Yin demons, the sinister forces that obstruct body and mind during cultivation. Even if this method is passed down from father to son, outsiders will find it difficult to recognize. It is profound and unfathomable, beyond the reach of disturbance by ghosts and spirits.

Yet people hear that Earth gives rise to Yellow Sprout and take the spleen to be the central Earth; they hear that Ren Water gives rise to White Snow and take the kidneys to be Ren Water. But the spleen and kidneys are tangible things, just as cinnabar and mercury are tangible ingredients. How can they be equated directly with the wondrous transformations of the Golden Elixir? Those who cultivate the elixir cannot abandon the spleen and kidneys within, or cinnabar and mercury without. They must understand, however, that Yellow Sprout and White Snow do not refer only to these tangible things. They arise from a wondrous principle beyond form and substance: “being within nonbeing, nonbeing within being; mystery within mystery, wonder within wonder.” This cannot be grasped through ordinary reasoning.

People of the world are busy pursuing fame and profit and lost in wine and sensual pleasure. They will not even practice a modest method of cultivating well-being, yet they hope to find a companion who understands the Great Dao and obtain the secrets of the Golden Elixir. That is truly difficult.

Everyone originally possesses the medicine of long life, but through ignorance and delusion, they cast it away in vain.

For sweet dew to descend, the energies of Heaven and Earth must unite. For yellow sprouts to emerge, Kan and Li—Water and Fire—must join.

A frog at the bottom of a well cannot imagine a deep pool inhabited by a dragon, and a bird beside a hedge does not know of a nest where a phoenix dwells.

Once Neidan (internal alchemy) is complete, the state of “a house filled with gold” will arise of itself. Why go searching outside for plants and herbs to refine by burning them?

When the Yin-Yang energies of Heaven and Earth unite, the myriad things come into being. When the Jing (essence) of men and women unites, human beings are born. All things continually arise and transform, each with its own source. From the beginning, whether immortal or mortal, noble or lowly, all receive a measure of true Yang energy; in principle, all can stand alongside Heaven and Earth and endure through time. Yet people often sink into desire, lingering day and night and indulging in passing pleasures, without knowing to cherish the practice of cultivating the Dao and nourishing life. This is a profound state of ignorance and loss. Zhang Pingshu—also known as Zhang Boduan, a Northern Song Daoist Neidan practitioner—therefore took pity on the world and pointed out that the medicine of long life is within oneself. What are called “sweet dew” and “yellow sprouts” are its manifestations.

When the clear Qi of Heaven descends and the turbid Qi of Earth rises, the two energies mingle and harmonize, and “sweet dew” is born. The Li trigram belongs to Fire and the Kan trigram to Water. When the two take in the energies of Wu Earth and Ji Earth and meet at “Central Yellow” within the body, “yellow sprouts” emerge. None of these things are obtained from outside the body. Those of shallow understanding often laugh when they hear of the Dao of Neidan. They are like a frog leaping about in a ladleful of water or a bird beside a hedge flying low among the grass. They do not know that a dragon palace lies in the vast sea or that a phoenix nest is found in a distant forest; there is no need to blame them.

Only those who truly understand the cultivation of the Dao can refine this “Great Medicine.” They regularly gather and drink the sweet dew, seek out the yellow sprouts, and adjust the increase and decrease according to the firing times. When the practice of circulating the circuit of Heaven reaches completion, Yang energy can be restored and body and mind transformed. Divine light then appears, and one reaches a state of dignity and purity, in harmony with the Great Dao. The Immortal Yin said, “When the yellow sprouts emerge, gold fills my home.” Why, then, go searching outside for plants and herbs to burn and refine into Waidan (external alchemy)?

In Neidan (internal alchemy), when the fire times and their increases and decreases are adjusted just right, and the work of circulating Qi through the microcosmic orbit is complete, Yang Qi can be restored, bringing a transformation of body and spirit and causing the light of Shen (spirit) to appear. At this point, body and spirit are upright and dignified, reaching a state of harmony with the Great Dao. The Perfected Yin said, “When cultivation reaches the appearance of the Yellow Sprout, a sign that the Neidan is beginning to form, gold fills my home.” Why, then, seek out plants and burn thatch to refine Waidan (external alchemy), the elixir made by heating ingredients in a furnace outside the body?

One should devote oneself to seeking true lead, an Neidan term for the true Yang Qi that guides cultivation, and not let time slip away.

If one can use the earthly po to subdue cinnabar mercury, an Neidan term often referring to the mind-spirit or Yin Qi, the heavenly hun, or Yang essence, will naturally emerge, and the metal within water, an Neidan term for the metal Qi contained in water, will be brought under control.

It may be said that when the work of cultivating the Dao is deep, the dragon and tiger, symbols of Yin and Yang Qi in Neidan, will be tamed; when one’s De (Virtue/Power) is lofty, even ghosts and spirits will show respect.

Once one knows that life can last as long as Heaven and Earth, there is no reason for worry to enter the heart.

The cultivation of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir depends on two substances, Lead and Mercury. Yet few people in the world truly understand their meaning. Why is this? The Supreme One says, “Take Lead as the ruler and Mercury as the minister.” If the Lead is not true Lead, Mercury will be unable to unite with it. An old verse says, “The only fear is that the Lead is not true. If the Lead is true, the medicine will naturally be refined.”

People commonly understand “Lead” as a spark of Yang essence within the upright Qi of the North, but they do not know that there is a distinction between true Lead and ordinary Lead. The nature of true Lead accords with Heaven and Earth; ordinary Lead is no different from a dog or a pig. Although Lead and Mercury are spoken of as two substances, at their root they are one: Lead can generate Mercury, and Mercury can in turn generate Lead. This is the principle of the “Seven Returns to the Elixir,” in which Yin and Yang repeatedly reverse and transform within Neidan (internal alchemy) to refine the elixir.

Without devoting oneself to inquiry and seeking out teachers and fellow practitioners, one may never obtain the “golden bodkin” that can pierce the veil of confusion—that is, guidance revealing the essentials of cultivation. Then a whole life will be wasted in a fleeting moment. If one understands these principles and brings the Heavenly Hun, the Earthly Po, Golden Lead, and Fire Mercury into harmony and mutual restraint, one can cultivate Dao and De.

The Heavenly Hun belongs to Yang and symbolizes the sun, fire, and Mercury; the Earthly Po belongs to Yin and symbolizes the moon, water, and Lead. These are all different names for Lead and Mercury. To use the Earthly Po to restrain Fire Mercury is to use Yin to control Yang; to use the Heavenly Hun to subdue Water Lead is to use Yang to control Yin. When Yin and Yang unite, this is the Dao; when the sun and moon join, this is the Elixir. In this way, one’s state in the Dao can naturally rise, and one’s De can naturally deepen. Even in the face of the unseen and the manifest, and beings of different kinds, one can subdue the dragons and tigers and command the respect of ghosts and spirits. One can naturally enjoy a life as long as Heaven and Earth, transcend the myriad things of the world, and escape the vexations of the mundane realm.

Do not cultivate the Three Yellows or the Four Spirits, and do not seek out the various herbal substances. None of these is the true elixir.

Yin and Yang must be of the same kind to unite and respond to one another. Each naturally possesses one half, and so they draw together and unite.

Within the cauldron, the red sun rises and Yin’s baleful energy disperses. The bright moon shines on the mountain peak, and the medicinal sprout begins to grow.

Those in the world who wish to recognize true Lead and Mercury should know that they are not ordinary cinnabar and mercury.

The “Three Yellows” are orpiment, realgar, and sulfur. Add mercury and cinnabar, and they are called the “Four Spirits.” The “myriad herbs” mentioned in the text means the various plants and trees used to refine elixirs; all of these belong to Waidan (external alchemy). People in the world cannot hold fast to their true nature and devote themselves to inner cultivation. Instead, they do not seek within themselves, exhaust their inner Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and then take elixirs from outside. This is like trying to stop boiling water by scooping it out and pouring it back, or carrying firewood to put out a fire: it cannot bring long life. This does not mean that elixirs have no efficacy or offer no benefit when taken. Zhang Boduan, whose courtesy name was Pingshu, said: “If there is no true seed within, it is like trying to boil water and fire in an empty pot.”

The Three Yellows and Four Spirits are external alchemical substances used by true immortals. Once they have completed Neidan (internal alchemy) and accumulated merit, true immortals no longer wish to remain in the dusty world and prepare to transform and ascend. Yet the physical body is, after all, a remnant of one’s parents, formed from essence and blood. Even after attaining a wondrous body through this process, one must still use Waidan to transform it, alter the form and exchange the bones, and replenish the Yang spirit. Only then can one ride the void, move through the air, and soar on cranes among the clouds.

How can ordinary people, sunk in sensual pleasures, spend money refining elixirs in the hope of using them to remedy their own weakness and exhaustion, claim that this is Yin-Yang of the same kind, complementing one another? And how can they call it “two eights in balance”? Only after first completing Neidan is one suited to take Waidan: one’s own body of pure Yang must be matched with an elixir of pure Yang for them to be of the same kind and in harmony. It is like having half a jin in oneself and eight liang in the elixir: the weights are exactly equal.

Then sunlight at the bottom of the pool appears bright and radiant, while the moon’s reflection on the mountaintop seems faintly visible. One rises and the other sinks, and their breaths flow through one another. This scene can be seen, but one must not grasp at it; when it is truly put to use, it must not be deliberately displayed. Those in the world who wish to understand its principle should seek true Lead and Mercury, not ordinary cinnabar and mercury.

Without understanding the principle of “reversal” within the mysterious and profound, how could one know that a lotus can bloom in fire? If one can guide the White Tiger—the alchemical term often referring to true Qi or essence in the kidneys—back home to be nourished, then a Neidan (internal alchemy) can form, perfected and round as a bright pearl.

Do not merely tend the alchemical furnace and watch the fire’s timing. Simply settle the mind and let things unfold naturally. When Yin energy has gradually been dispelled and the Neidan is complete, one can transcend the ordinary world and attain long life.

The phrase “reversal within the mysterious and profound” was explained in detail earlier. “Planting a lotus in fire” uses an external image as a metaphor: once the Neidan has matured, the practitioner can transcend the ordinary world and live long.

The meaning of “mysterious reversal” has already been explained in detail above. Although Zhang Pingshu (Zhang Boduan, known as Perfected Ziyang) used external things as metaphors in speaking of “planting a lotus in fire,” he was actually describing the practice of Neidan cultivation. Those who have not received instruction from a teacher may labor over commentaries, yet still find it difficult to understand the true meaning.

The lotus grows in water, while fire arises from wood. To speak now of planting something that belongs in water in fire seems contrary to reason. In fact, this refers to something within the human body shaped like a lotus, born from the fire of true Yang. It is called fire, yet in essence it is water; it is called water, yet in essence it is fire. As water, it does not flow or moisten downward; as fire, it does not blaze upward or tend toward dryness. When the energy of fire is concealed within water, it is called “inner Yang”; when the energy of water is concealed within fire, it is called “inner Yin.” Yin and Yang gather and congeal as essence within water and fire, thereby taking on the appearance of a lotus.

Cultivated until it matures, this lotus undergoes various transformations: sometimes it is sweet as honey and shaped like a tangerine; sometimes it resembles a fruit growing on a branch, with its seed enclosed in the flesh. These are all metaphors for the “lotus.” The many names for such things as the mating pear and fire dates are likewise symbols of the Golden Elixir, the essence produced through Neidan cultivation. When the proper methods are used to cultivate and refine it within the body, outward signs will naturally appear.

“White Tiger” refers to Metal essence, a Neidan term for the body’s essence-energy associated with Metal. If a practitioner can nurture it within themselves and keep it from moving recklessly, the radiance of Metal essence will become visible. It is then as though white light has appeared in an empty, still room, and the Mysterious Pearl—the Neidan term for the Elixir body congealed into form—takes shape, like a full moon.

Those who cultivate the Golden Elixir know only that the timing of the fire in Waidan is governed by the medicinal furnace, and do not know that the timing of the fire in Neidan is found within themselves. The sages transmit the substances, but not the timing of the fire; they do not set it down in books either. Thus Zhang Pingshu taught people to keep to their true nature and hold fast to unity, bringing themselves into accord with the transformations of Heaven and Earth. In this way, Yin and Yang rise and descend naturally, like matching tallies. Once all Yin energies have been dispelled and the body has become wholly Yang, one can be free from birth and death and escape the bonds of all things in the world. What cage could still confine such a person? How could their lifespan be measured by its length or brevity?

Those who study becoming an immortal must study the Way of the Celestial Immortals; the Way of the Golden Elixir is the most proper.

When the two forces of Yin and Yang meet, feeling and nature merge. When the Five Phases—the five fundamental elements that make up all things—are complete, the Dragon and Tiger coil together and unite.

At the outset, use Wu and Ji—the Yin and Yang Qi of the Earth phase—as mediators, so that the husband-and-wife Qi may unite for a long time and blend harmoniously. The union of a man and a woman here serves as a metaphor for harmonizing Yin and Yang Qi in cultivation.

Once the work of cultivation is complete, one may pay court at the Jade Palace in Heaven and ascend, riding a luan bird amid clouds glowing in nine colors.

Zhong and Lü asked about the Dao: “People can cultivate in the world and become immortals. After becoming immortal, they can rise further into Heaven. If there is only one kind of immortal, why speak of ‘ascending to Heaven’ as a further step?”

This is because a being with Yin alone and no Yang is a ghost; one with Yang alone and no Yin is an immortal; and one in whom Yin and Yang are mixed is a human being. Only humans can become ghosts or cultivate into immortals. Immortals are further divided into five ranks: first, Heavenly Immortals; second, Spirit Immortals; third, Earth Immortals; fourth, Ghost Immortals; and fifth, Human Immortals. As for Heaven…

How, exactly, does one cultivate oneself to become an immortal? The means are not magic arts, esoteric techniques, or physical strength, but the accumulation of De (virtue) and good deeds, through which one cultivates the Golden Elixir. What is the Golden Elixir? It is simply the union of two subtle essences, with the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—the elements that make up all things) complete and pure. This enables a person to live long and see far, and to become an immortal.

The Dao De Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) says: “In a state of indistinctness and vagueness, there seems to be something; in the depths of darkness and obscurity, there seems to be an essence.” These two subtle essences refer to the Jing-Qi (essence and vital energy) produced by the union of the sun and moon, the hun and po souls, and Yin-Yang. Taking Heaven and Earth as their model, they respond to one another and unite with the Dao when they meet. The subtle changes of feeling and nature—what is meant by “once in thirty days, they meet”—describe this union.

The Five Phases correspond to Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth, and also to the lungs, liver, kidneys, heart, and spleen. In cultivation, one must gather their essences without becoming attached to the physical form, so that the Five Phases remain undiminished and Yin-Yang are both complete. Then the Dragon and Tiger—a Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) metaphor for Yin-Yang or the Jing-Qi within the body—will naturally coil and circle. The spirit will grow strong and vigorous, able to resist external demons and uphold the Great Dao.

At the root of the matter, the three subtle essences cannot unite of themselves, and the Five Phases cannot complete themselves. This is because the Earth of Wu and Ji—a Neidan term representing the central palace and the spleen’s Earth—is at the center, drawing East and West together so that they do not become separated. This is what is meant by Metal and Wood joining, and Water and Fire coupling, like husband and wife in joyful union. The force that brings them together is like a matchmaker arranging their union.

Following this method, one cultivates in the formless and brings an inner landscape into being where it cannot be seen. With time, one practices Yin merit—good deeds done in secret, without seeking recognition—and becomes silently attuned to Heaven and Earth, naturally returning to pure Yang. Then one can ascend in broad daylight: paying court to the Jade Emperor in the Golden Palace, then riding a colorful luan bird down to the Purple Empyrean, soaring amid the radiance of the nine heavens and roaming beyond the eight directions. If learning the Way of the Immortals can achieve such a result, could the Celestial Immortal be anything but the highest attainment?

Know that the source from which the elixir arises lies only in the southwest; that is its native place.

When Lead encounters the rising of Gui Water, it must be gathered and refined at once. When Metal Qi has passed its fullness at the full moon, it should no longer be taken.

Return the elixir to the earthen cauldron, seal it tightly, then draw in the flowing pearl—the circulating, flowing Jing-Qi—and blend it with the elixir.

The elixir weighs one jin, and there must also be two… belonging to its native place.

Lead must be gathered quickly when Water of Gui first comes to life; after the full moon, gold is no longer suitable for consumption.

Place the gathered ingredients in an earthen crucible, the vessel used for alchemical refining, and seal it tightly. Then add flowing pearls—that is, mercury—so the substances can be refined together.

The ingredients weigh one jin in all and should be combined according to the proportion “two eights.” Regulate the fire by following the changes of Yin and Yang.

The Book of Changes says, “In the southwest, one gains friends; in the northeast, one loses friends.” The southwest is the position of Kun, where the souls and forms of the sun and moon come together. At dawn on the thirtieth day of each lunar month, when the sky is about to brighten, the moon rises from the direction of Yi and the sun from the direction of Jia. Yi and Jia unite, hence “in the southwest, one gains friends.” At this time the moon has no visible radiance, hence also “in the northeast, one loses friends.”

Zhang Ping-shu said that the source of the ingredients lies in the southwest. This is because the moon rises from the position of Kun and begins to receive the correspondence of the Zhen trigram: Kun transforms into Zhen, and the moon’s yang soul has just begun to emerge, allowing the moon to show its light. The saying “On the third day, Geng is born; the gate of Dui opens” describes the moon gradually appearing at the start of the month, like silver emerging from the darkness. This is also the source of the ingredients meant by the phrase “At the mountain’s crest, the moon rises and the medicinal sprouts are new.”

Though the moon symbolizes the essence of Great Yin and can serve as a sign for the relationship between metal and water, its light in fact comes from the sun. On closer examination, the water generated by Heaven’s One must have metal-lead in order to come into being. Thus, when metal flourishes, water is born; when the moon is full, the tides rise. Lead should therefore be gathered when Water of Gui first comes to life, just as a mother’s womb conceals a child newly formed. Once gathered, it can be used to refine the Golden Elixir. This is precisely when Yang energy has just stirred and the time is right for alchemical work.

If gold is taken after the full moon, the moon begins to form its po, its dark side, after the fifteenth day. From the sixteenth day to the end of the month, the po grows fuller as the hun wanes; Yang energy declines while Yin energy grows strong. It is therefore unsuitable for consumption. Since gold taken after the full moon should not be consumed, one should promptly gather lead from the moment Water of Gui first comes to life. Once this “gold within water” has been gathered, place it in an earthen crucible and add flowing pearls to work with it, refining the mixture by regulating the fire. Seal the vessel tightly so the ingredients cannot escape, and balance their proportions so that neither side becomes excessive. In this way, there is hope of refining the Golden Elixir.

The Cantong qi says: “Mercury is the sun, called flowing pearls; the Azure Dragon accompanies it. Raise what is in the east to join what is in the west, and hun and po bind themselves together. The waxing moon corresponds to the number eight; the waning moon also has the number eight. When the essence of the two phases joins, the forms of Heaven and Earth are complete. Two eights make one jin; the Way of the Changes is rightly balanced and does not tilt.” The meaning is that mercury resembles the sun and is called flowing pearls; the Azure Dragon, symbolizing the Yang energy of the east, accompanies it. Take what belongs to the east and unite it with what belongs to the west, and the hun and po of sun and moon come together. The waxing moon corresponds to eight, and the waning moon also corresponds to eight. When their vital essences unite, the forms of Heaven and Earth are formed; the two eights make one jin, in accord with the principles of change in the Book of Changes, without imbalance. This is the same meaning expressed in the poem.

Do not mistake solitary Yin for true Yang. The waxing half moon belongs to the Dui trigram, and its number is eight; the waning half moon also has the number eight. Only when the vital essences of the two half moons above and below come together can the forms of Qian and Kun, symbols of Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth, be generated. The two eights combine to make one jin, symbolizing the proper, balanced movement of the Dao of the Yi. This accords precisely with the meaning contained in the character “liang.”

Do not take solitary Yin to be true Yang; cultivating it alone will only make a person weaker. Deliberately straining the body, applying pressure, and practicing daoyin are not the Great Dao. Refining Qi and consuming the rosy clouds’ vapor are even more narrow-minded and misguided.

People in the world vainly seek to unite gold and mercury, but when will they truly see the Dragon and Tiger subdued? I urge you to seek deeply into the original source of life. Returning to the root and restoring the original state is the finest king of medicines. Here, “gold and mercury” and “Dragon and Tiger” are Yin-Yang symbols in Neidan practice, while “subduing” means bringing them into harmony and unity.

Yunfang says in the Zhipian: “Tears, saliva, semen, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids—these seven things originally belong to Yin. If you take them as the foundation for becoming an immortal, how could you refine Shen, ascend, and reach Yujing, the realm of the immortals?” He also says: “The limbs, bones, and entire body all belong to Yin. If you do not know what true Yang essence is, then even if you are fortunate enough to meet a wise teacher who can guide you, the opportunity to attain the Dao and become an immortal is right before you.” How profoundly and clearly these two poems guide later practitioners who have lost their way!

Today, some Buddhist practitioners cling to emptiness and sit facing a wall for long periods, believing that by cutting off sexual desire and preserving their vital essence they can attain the Dao. I see that they often grow frail and weak. By old age, when their allotted energy is nearly spent, they end up as no more than Yin spirits, a kind of ghost. Others who do not understand the Dao merely practice guiding and stretching exercises such as the Bear’s Neck and Bird’s Stretch, take in the rosy mists, or cultivate breath retention. Some call the heart and kidneys “gold and mercury,” and the liver and lungs “dragon and tiger.” These are all blind forms of cultivation. They do not recognize true Yang essence or the root of all things, so how could they return to the origin and refine the Great Medicine?

Yet when one first begins cultivating the Dao and carefully observes the human body, one finds that tears, saliva, semen, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids, together with the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, all nourish this temporary body from within and without. How can they all simply be called Yin? If these are set aside, is there something else that is true Yang? I have never been satisfied with this question.

I spent twenty years investigating Yunfang’s teaching for myself, consulting the Daoist Canon and seeking instruction from various schools. I visited thousands of people who called themselves Daoist practitioners, yet they all spoke of swallowing fluids and saliva. In the world, there seemed to be no one who could resolve this question. Later, I read the Song of the Great Dao of Contemplating the Numinous Source. It said only that bodily fluids have no fixed form and change according to circumstance and intention: when the body feels hot, they become sweat; when the nose is exposed to wind, they become nasal discharge; when the Qi of the kidneys joins, they become semen; and when the eyes are moved by grief, they become tears. But it did not explain what true Yang is.

I then read the Supreme One’s Scripture of the Seven Treasures and Non-Leakage. It says that to nourish Shen, one must first nourish Qi; to nourish Qi, one must first nourish tears, then in turn nasal discharge, saliva, blood, semen, fluids, and finally water. Water is the saliva in the Flowery Pool, the essence of original Qi, the primordial Qi of Heaven, and the fluid beneath the tongue in the mouth. Yet this still did not clarify the nature of Yang essence; instead, it made the matter even more confusing. Even asking spirits and ghosts brought no clear answer.

I saw only that those who cultivated these bodily fluids in isolation often grew weak. Some became irritable and restless; some passed loose, cloudy stools; some felt heaviness and tightness in the lower back; some had involuntary emissions in their sleep despite having no dreams. If they practiced guiding exercises and breath work day and night, their bodies might improve a little for a time. But once they stopped because of pressing duties, all their illnesses flared up at once, and they had to keep taking medicine. This brought no benefit and caused great harm. Others secretly ridiculed them, and fellow practitioners lost heart as a result.

Although I was dull and stubborn, my faith in the Dao grew ever stronger. I could not believe that the ancient sages had deliberately left teachings to mislead later generations. The fault, I thought, lay in my own lack of genuine practice and in my failure to receive a true transmission. So I decisively freed myself from worldly entanglements and traveled through famous mountains and grottoes, secretly praying to the unseen realms in hopes of fathoming the profound teaching. Later, I first received a dream omen at Longhu Mountain, then met a sage teacher at Zhuhong Peak. I have recorded the details in The Account of My Encounter with an Immortal.

At last I received the secret of true Yang and learned that it can subdue the four great elements within the body—the four basic constituents of the human form—and all things that belong to Yin. True Yang is neither Jing nor Qi; it is neither the kidneys nor the heart; it is neither tears, saliva, blood, nor bodily fluids. It exists where life begins, arising before Heaven and Earth; it also exists where life ends, passing away before Heaven and Earth.

The Five Phases—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—gather there. The numinous qualities of the five organs—the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—converge there. The seven things—tears, saliva, semen, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids—also take shape from it. It is so vast that Heaven and Earth can contain it, yet so subtle that not even a speck of dust can contain it. Its activity makes no distinction between inside and outside, and receiving it makes no distinction between sage and ordinary person. People use it every day without knowing its root; only the sages can investigate its source.

If you grasp the mystery of the Seven Returns and Nine Reversions—the Neidan process of refining Jing, Qi, and Shen back to their origin—true Yang can become the king of medicines and the foundation of cultivation. Then all the Yin substances in the body will naturally circulate through the limbs and bones, like children clinging to their mother, and will no longer dissipate. The mind will no longer grow restless; the stools will no longer be loose and cloudy; the lower back will no longer feel heavy; and there will be no more involuntary emissions during sleep. Shen and Qi will merge, and the radiance of Jing will illuminate all things. How could the body then grow frail? The eyes will shine like lightning, the beard will be black as lacquer, the mind will be keen, and one will handle all manner of affairs without fatigue.

Gold and mercury will naturally subdue and descend; dragon and tiger will naturally harmonize. There will be no need to forcefully stretch the sinews and bones, or to exhale the old and inhale the new. One will naturally accord with Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon, and the four seasons, and will also join with ghosts and spirits in sensing good and ill fortune. Truly, I have grasped one small secret of becoming an immortal. It is not an ordinary path among the three thousand six hundred methods of cultivation. This method is profoundly mysterious. Unless one swears an oath to Heaven and prays to Earth, it is not transmitted. If one breaks the oath, Heaven’s calamities and human punishments will fall upon them, and there will be nowhere to plead for forgiveness.

The growth of plants and trees also follows the principle of Yin and Yang working together. Without either one, they cannot flourish or bloom.

When a plant first sprouts, its green leaves appear first, as Yang Qi begins to move. Then its red flowers open, as Yin Qi follows to nourish and bring it to completion.

This is the ordinary course of things. But how many people truly understand the source of its return to the root and renewal, its ceaseless generation?

I tell all who study the Dao: if you do not understand the principle of Yin and Yang, do not mock it rashly.

“One Yin and one Yang: this is called the Dao.” When either Yin or Yang becomes excessive and loses balance, illness follows. The harmony of Yin and Yang is no empty claim. All things bear Yin on their backs and embrace Yang; neither can prevail alone. If Yang is excessive and there is no Yin, Yang cannot transform and nurture. If Yin is excessive and there is no Yang, Yin cannot bring forth life.

Plants and trees show this clearly. Green leaves appear first, as Yang begins to move; red flowers open afterward, as Yin Qi nourishes them in turn, allowing the plants to flourish and bear fruit. Plants grow and mature chiefly in spring and summer; in autumn and winter they return to the root and recover their life. When people apply this principle to daily life, they can understand that day belongs to Yang and night to Yin, and that the Zi hour belongs to Yang while the Wu hour belongs to Yin. Yin and Yang alternate in their movement and depend on one another; together they form the ordinary course of things. The True Source—the root of the transformation and generation of all things—circulates back and forth, so the changes of life are without end. This is to share the same De as Heaven and Earth.

Yet Yin and Yang are not two entirely separate, unrelated things. Yin is not without Yang, nor Yang without Yin. Thus, within the sun is the Golden Crow, which symbolizes Yin; and within the moon, the image of Great Yin, is the Jade Rabbit, which symbolizes Yang. Yin and Yang support one another and bring about change together. Those who study the Dao should not mock before they have understood.

The teachings found across ten thousand volumes of Elixir scriptures—texts on Neidan cultivation—are, in essence, much the same. The Golden Elixir, the central attainment sought through Neidan cultivation, rests on this principle as well.

Following the Kun position, which symbolizes Yin, receptivity, and generation, one forms the body that gives rise to life. Then the seed is placed in the Qian abode, which symbolizes Yang, so that Yin and Yang unite where they meet and respond to one another.

Do not blame me for revealing Heaven’s secret; those who study the Dao are still often confused.

Whoever grasps the meaning of this poem will be able to behold the Supreme Elder of the Three Pure Ones, the highest divinity revered in Daoism.

Qian and Kun are the gateway to the Classic of Changes and the foundation of all the hexagrams. Those who study the Dao, if they do not first cultivate the Qian and Kun hexagrams, are like people without parents, unable to be born. Kun lies in the southwest and is pure Yin; Qian lies in the northwest and is pure Yang. When Yin and Yang remain pure and separate from each other, they cannot bring about change. Kun provides the foundation from which all things are generated, while Qian brings about their interaction and transformation.

Zhang Boduan, whose courtesy name was Pingshu, investigated the deepest and most subtle principles, elucidated the mysteries of the Cantong qi, and brought out the finer points of the Longhu jing. His explanations could speak on behalf of the Most High Lord Lao, expounding the Dao, and also enlighten later students. After Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin, Zhang Boduan alone attained the highest level of accomplishment.

Though there are many texts on the Elixir, with principles, methods, and techniques that may seem complicated, they largely share the same fundamental purpose in discussing the Golden Elixir. There are many lesser methods and side paths, but without understanding the Golden Elixir’s fundamental purpose, one has not grasped the true Dao. The Dao is to accord with the De (Virtue/Power) of Heaven and Earth. Qian represents Heaven and belongs to Yang; Kun represents Earth and belongs to Yin. Though Heaven and Earth seem far apart, they interact through the six child hexagrams—the Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, and Dui hexagrams born from Qian and Kun—so that Yin and Yang alternate and transform. This transformation can be seen in the courses of the sun and moon.

The Classic of Changes says, “When Heaven and Earth do not interact, the myriad things cannot flourish.” Heaven and Earth unite once each month, and Qian and Kun undergo six transformations each month. The transformations begin with generation from Kun, while Qian brings about interaction: at first, Kun undergoes three transformations and becomes Qian; at the end, Qian undergoes three transformations and becomes Kun. This cycle gives rise to the dark of the moon, the new moon, the first quarter, and the full moon. It also sets in motion the cycle of the twenty-four solar terms and the degrees of the celestial circuit. The growth of all things and the turning of the seasons into a year depend on the workings of Qian, Kun, and the six child hexagrams.

The Longhu Shangjing and the Cantong qi use the moon’s waxing and waning each month to explain this process. On the third day, the moon appears in the west at the Geng position, as Kun’s first change produces Zhen. The moon is Yin by nature and cannot shine by itself; it shows its light only by receiving the Yang qi of the sun. Zhen corresponds to Geng, so the text says, “On the third day it emerges bright: Zhen receives Geng in the west.” Zhang Boduan writes, “On the third day Geng gives birth to Zhen, and its portal opens; from the black silver furnace comes forth white silver.” This, too, uses the moon’s first appearance of light to illustrate Yang arising within Yin.

On the eighth day, the moon appears at the Ding position, as Kun undergoes a second change and becomes Dui. Dui corresponds to Ding and symbolizes the first quarter moon. Thus the Shangjing says, “On the eighth day the moon appears at Ding; at the first quarter, the metal weighs half a jin,” while the Cantong qi says, “Dui receives the sign of Ding; at the first quarter, it is level as a taut cord.”

On the fifteenth day, the moon is full at the Jia position, as Kun undergoes its third change and becomes Qian. Qian corresponds to Jia and symbolizes the full moon. The Shangjing says, “On the fifteenth day the three Yangs are complete; the full moon shines at eastern Jia,” and the Cantong qi says, “When the virtues of three and five are complete, the form of Qian is thereby perfected.” At this point the moon shines with full brightness. This does not mean that Yin can produce light by itself; rather, Yang qi has reached its fullness.

After Yang reaches its height, Yin gradually grows. Things decline after reaching their peak and eventually return to their original state. From the sixteenth day onward, the moon wanes and appears at the Xin position, as Qian loses its first line and becomes Xun; Xun corresponds to Xin. From the twenty-first to the twenty-fifth day, the moon appears at the Bing position, as Qian is diminished again and becomes Gen; Gen corresponds to Bing. From the twenty-sixth to the thirtieth day, the moon appears at the Yi position, as Qian is diminished a third time and becomes Kun; Kun corresponds to Yi. At the end of the month the moon disappears, and the changes of Yin and Yang return to their starting point. Kun then gives rise to Zhen again, and the cycle repeats. This is the process described in the Cantong qi as, “Five and six: Kun receives; the joining brings the cycle to its end and beginning.”

This is the principle by which Yin and Yang alternate and return to their source; it is also the union of Heaven and Earth and the joining of sun and moon. Qian makes three requests of Kun and gives birth to the three male hexagrams; Kun makes three requests of Qian and gives birth to the three female hexagrams. This symbolizes the pairing and mutual response of Yin and Yang. Just as Kun provides the foundation for generation, Qian brings about interaction.

The sun is the soul of Heaven, symbolizing the blood and marrow of the Great Dao; the moon is the spirit of Earth, symbolizing the vital essence of the Great Dao. The Great Dao endures so long as it does not lose the way of the sun and moon; likewise, a person can live long and avoid death if they do not lose their own “sun and moon.” Here the sun and moon are metaphors for the movement of Yin and Yang, Jing, and Qi within the human body. Sadly, those who study the Dao are often confused and benighted. Some take delusion for the normal order, sink into sensual pleasures and desire, and let the six desires and seven emotions damage their original nature. They become like lifeless shells, straying ever farther from the proper human path, and so cannot stand alongside Heaven and Earth.

Now Zhang Boduan has revealed the secrets of Heaven and directly pointed out the path into the wondrous realm. Those who understand these principles need not regard the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) or the Most High Lord Lao as beings cut off from themselves. The saying “Once gained, it is gained forever; one immediately ascends to the rank of a sage” means that once one truly awakens, one can swiftly enter the realm of the sages. This principle is exceedingly mysterious. Without deep innate capacity and a steadfast resolve to cultivate the Dao, one may struggle to encounter a clear-sighted teacher and often miss the right opportunity. Those who study the Dao should therefore approach it with care.

If one does not recognize “True Lead,” the true fundamental source, then no matter how much effort one makes, it is all in vain. “True Lead” is a term in Neidan (internal alchemy): it refers to the essential source required for alchemical refinement, not ordinary lead.

Abandoning one’s spouse and children in the mistaken hope of cutting oneself off from Yin-Yang, or giving up food until the stomach and intestines are empty, is not the proper path. External substances such as plants, trees, gold, and silver are merely the coarse dregs spoken of in alchemy. Phenomena such as clouds and rosy mists, the sun and moon, can also mislead people and obscure the fundamental source.

Even when practices such as breath regulation and visualization are added, they still differ from the Way of the Golden Elixir.

Cultivating the Dao should begin with restraining desire. Does this poem mean that people should indulge their desires? Certainly not. The Great Dao calls for spontaneity and freedom from force, while heterodox methods of cultivation often impose many cumbersome practices. Ordinary people know only to avoid women and abstain from meat and pungent foods, or to refine elixirs, feast on rosy mists and absorb Qi, breathe out the old and take in the new, or visualize the kidneys. They then assume that the mysteries of the Dao lie entirely in such methods.

They do not understand that forced restraint cannot attain spontaneity, and deliberate effort inevitably risks falling into delusion. What is more, “lead” may be true lead or ordinary lead, ancestral lead or lineage lead; distinguishing among them is indeed difficult. If one receives instruction from a master, one can understand directly where the Dao lies, and the blazing Golden Elixir—the realized state sought through Neidan cultivation—may even be refined in a single day. Blindly practiced, the methods described above can at most bring ease and longevity, making their practitioners somewhat better off than those who slight life and lose sight of their roots. But measured against the great Dao of the Golden Elixir, these methods are simply unrelated.

Yet the Celestial Master lineage of the Han dynasty has continued for thirty-six generations, and Xu Jingyang, whom Daoists venerate as Xu Xun, had more than forty members in his household without this preventing his ascension in broad daylight. Liu Anwang and Liu Gang also cultivated together with their wives, while Wei Boyang had a son who held office. Must attaining the Dao require one to divorce and abstain from food? Not at all. Some attained the Dao while still virgins; others cultivated after marriage. All cultivated inwardly and accumulated abundant hidden virtue, progressing from preliminary practice to the middle vehicle, and from there to the highest vehicle. No one can reach the Great Dao in a single step.

Ping Shu—that is, Zhang Boduan, whose courtesy name was Ping Shu—did not mean to dismiss every unhelpful heterodox method. He used them to emphasize the way of the Golden Elixir. Those who study the Dao should not cling to the literal wording and misunderstand the author’s intent.

Of the three characters “Three-Five-One,” very few people throughout history have truly understood them.

Three from the east and two from the south together make five; one from the north and four from the west also make five.

Wu and Ji, the Earthly Stems that symbolize the center, remain in their proper place and preserve their own generative number. When the three families meet, an infant is formed—the embryo of the Elixir in Neidan practice.

The infant refers to the “sacred embryo” formed through cultivation of the Elixir Way. It contains a strand of pure, primordial Qi. After ten months of nurturing and warming, the sacred embryo matures, laying the foundation for transcending the ordinary and entering the sagehood.

“Three and Five” means fifteen; add one and the total is sixteen, or “Two and Eight.” Through the ages, some seekers of the Dao have interpreted “Two and Eight” as the two time periods of Mao and You, while others have taken it to mean the weight of one jin. Yet they do not understand that the Great Way of the Golden Elixir cannot be separated from the transformations of the Five Phases, and that these transformations follow the numerical patterns governing the movement of Heaven and Earth.

Why is this so? “Two” and “Eight” combine to make ten. The number ten encompasses the mysteries of the Five Phases and contains the patterns governing the movement of Heaven and Earth: Heaven’s One generates Water, and Earth’s Six completes it; Earth’s Two generates Fire, and Heaven’s Seven completes it; Heaven’s Three generates Wood, and Earth’s Eight completes it; Earth’s Four generates Metal, and Heaven’s Nine completes it; Heaven’s Five generates Earth, and Earth’s Ten completes it. These numbers of Heaven and Earth are the fundamental patterns by which the myriad things come into being. The immortals speak in concealed language, so they do not say “ten” directly, but say “Two and Eight.” They do not say “sixteen” directly, either, but refer to the numbers of generation—Heaven’s One and Earth’s Two, Heaven’s Three and Earth’s Four, Heaven’s Five and Earth’s Six, Heaven’s Seven and Earth’s Eight, Heaven’s Nine and Earth’s Ten—and also say “Three, Five, and One.” Through the ages, learners of the Dao have been as numerous as hairs on an ox, yet very few have truly understood. Those who grasp this principle are indeed rare.

The numerical patterns by which Heaven and Earth generate things do not extend beyond ten; the subtleties of the Five Phases ultimately return to five. Five is the number of Earth, which is regarded as the foundation for forming the Elixir. The East belongs to Wood and has the number three; the South belongs to Fire and has the number two. Both occupy Yang positions and together make five. The North belongs to Water and has the number one; the West belongs to Metal and has the number four. Both occupy Yin positions and together make five. Wu and Ji belong to Earth and likewise arise from the number five.

Why did Ping Shu (Zhang Boduan, courtesy name Ping Shu) speak only of “the meeting of the three families,” rather than of harmonizing the Four Forms and gathering the Five Phases? Metal and Wood must not be separated; Earth must stand between them to bring them into harmony. The transformation of Water and Fire must reach “mutual completion”—a harmonious blending of Yin and Yang—and this, too, requires Earth between them. Thus the three families come together. The saying “When they meet Earth, they become three surnames” means that without Wu Earth and Ji Earth, the Elixir cannot be formed. The infant is formed through the union of the three families: that is, the sacred embryo is nurtured into being from within the formless.

The sacred embryo, however, does not come from outside. It forms when the true essence of the Great One—the pure, unified primordial Qi—and the primordial Qi return to their root, revert to their origin, and come together within oneself. In the beginning, Heaven and Earth joined in interaction and generated the myriad things. A person receives the body passed down by their parents and is born after ten months of gestation and nourishment. Now, the cultivator returns to the root and restores the original state, gathering the creative power of Yin and Yang. This, too, requires ten months of nurturing and warming before one can transcend the ordinary and enter the sagehood. The mystery of this process is beyond the measure of ordinary people.

This is the central teaching concealed in the “Three, Five, and One” poem in Ping Shu’s Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality). I have presumed to explain it in detail, hoping to clarify its meaning. Some may blame me for making the hidden meaning of the classic too explicit. I would answer: those who love drinking tea do not go to taverns, and those enthralled by sensual beauty do not enjoy quiet purification. Ordinary people are each drawn along by their own habits; no single teaching can change them. Even if they took the Yellow Emperor and Laozi as their teachers, and Confucius and Yan Hui as their friends, and heard instruction repeated at their ears, very few would truly take its meaning to heart. What use, then, would a five-character poem be to such people?

If someone has spiritual insight from a former life and receives these directions, they may understand the meaning through the text. Though separated by a thousand years, their minds can meet; though ten thousand miles apart, they can be as if face to face. How rare this is! It is like carrying a hundred gold pieces to market and losing them along the way. If someone finds them and puts them to use, then even the five gold pieces among them have not been lost in vain. Someone heard these words and had no reply. I therefore respectfully wrote sixteen detailed explanations, hoping to dispel the confusion of people throughout the world.

Volume Three of An Exposition on the Awakening to Reality by the Perfected Ziyang, written by the Recluse Yunfeng and Xia Zongyu of Yongjia. This volume contains sixty-four quatrains, corresponding to the sixty-four hexagrams of the Book of Changes.

First, take Qian and Kun, which symbolize Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang, as the cauldron and furnace. Then use the Crow and Rabbit, which symbolize the Sun and Moon and often stand for the two Qi of Yin and Yang, to cook and refine them. Only when these two forces are made to circulate and converge along the Yellow Path—a symbol of Yin-Yang harmony and orderly movement—can the Yellow Sprout, an image in internal alchemy for the initial formation of the elixir, begin to grow.

The Qian trigram symbolizes Heaven, and the Kun trigram symbolizes Earth; Qian belongs to Yang, and Kun to Yin. With Heaven above and Earth below, their positions are established, and the “cauldron vessel” used in alchemical cultivation—the foundation and container for cultivating body and mind—takes shape.

The crow symbolizes the Sun, and the jade rabbit symbolizes the Moon; the Sun belongs to Yang, and the Moon to Yin. The Sun rises in the east, while the Moon appears in the west. Their eastern and western positions are distinct, symbolizing how the Yin and Yang “medicines” required for alchemical cultivation each have their place and remain apart from one another. Here, the ecliptic refers to the proper central position occupied by the Earth of Wu and Ji; the yellow sprout is the wondrous sign that the Golden Elixir is beginning to form.

Heaven and Earth use Qian and Kun as their cauldron vessel, so the vessel within the cultivator should likewise be established according to their workings. Heaven and Earth use the Sun and Moon, the Crow and Rabbit, as their medicines; the medicines used in cultivation may thus be said to be the essences of the Sun and Moon, Yin and Yang, cooked and refined. The vessel, however, can be in either of two states: “already crossed” and “not yet crossed.” “Already crossed” means that Water and Fire have joined and come into harmony; “not yet crossed” means that they have not yet been harmonized. In either state, the workings of Water and Fire are indispensable.

The Golden Elixir is cooked and refined through Water and Fire, but Water and Fire alone cannot form it; the virtue of Earth must also be brought in to harmonize and complete the process. Wu and Ji represent the central Earth. Without this Earth of Wu and Ji, the Elixir cannot be refined. If cultivation and nourishment continue day after day, with constant cooking and refinement, until the two Yin-Yang substances return to the position of true Earth in the central palace, the great medicine of the Golden Elixir will grow like a tender shoot. It will continue to receive nourishment from the gentle Qi of the east, ultimately reaching the state of pure Yang. The sayings that numinous clarity shines forth within the heart, that the fruit of the Dao is perfected, and that its form is as large as an orange and its taste as sweet as honey all describe the result of the yellow sprout’s continual growth.

In setting up the furnace and establishing the cauldron vessel, one follows the principles of Qian and Kun; one refines the essence and regulates the hun and po souls. Yin and Yang Qi gather and disperse, mingling in a hazy fusion that gives rise to transformation. The forms and positions involved are difficult to describe in advance with words.

The furnace is placed outside, while the cauldron is set within. Though vessels are used as metaphors, they in fact symbolize the totality of Heaven and Earth. The medicines refined in these cauldrons and furnaces are the essence of the sun and the radiance of the moon, together with the sun’s hun and the moon’s po. When these two kinds of vital energy gather and mingle, Yin-Yang Qi stirs, flows, and transforms, and the Golden Elixir can be formed. How could it be described as something with a fixed shape? Thus the marvelous Dao has no fixed direction, and the changes of the Yi Jing have no fixed form. This is mystery within mystery, subtlety within subtlety; it cannot be learned through spoken words or by listening alone.

The practice of Neidan and Waidan both embody this wondrous principle: without fixed direction or form, beyond comprehension. Those who study the Way may grasp it through heart-to-heart transmission and oral instruction when the opportunity arises. Once they truly understand, its benefits endure. This supreme method is not confined to written words. It points directly to the Mysterious Pass—the key insight in cultivation through which body and mind are realized to be connected with the Dao—bringing one swiftly toward sagehood, as if ascending to the heavens from level ground.

Do not become attached to the alchemical furnace and waste your efforts. In refining the medicine, seek the Crescent-Moon Furnace, which symbolizes the furnace and cauldron of Neidan practice.

Within oneself is a naturally true fire that warms and nourishes. There is no need for firewood or charcoal, or for bellows to fan the flames.

The way of the Elixir is exceedingly profound and is divided into internal alchemy and external alchemy. Internal alchemy means refining and nourishing the essence of the sun and moon, gathering the upright original Shen (the human spirit in its primordial state), and returning life to its roots so that its original nature is restored. This is the higher path. External alchemy means using materials such as true lead and true mercury, adjusting the firing process and adding or reducing ingredients to produce elixirs intended to attain long life.

If one cultivates internal alchemy alone and does not practice external alchemy, one may attain the Dao, yet the physical body remains constrained: one is still affected by cold and heat and cannot ascend through the air. External alchemy is also needed to transform the body, turning the mortal, decaying form into a wondrous body. If one practices external alchemy alone without cultivating internal alchemy, it is like having no true seed in the cauldron and boiling an empty pot with water and fire. Even if something miraculous is produced, it will turn back into an ordinary substance.

Zhang Pingshu (that is, Zhang Boduan, whose courtesy name was Pingshu) does not mean in this poem that external alchemy must never be practiced. He was especially concerned that people knew only about external alchemy and not internal alchemy, so he used charcoal and the alchemical furnace as a metaphor to warn them. The crescent-moon furnace refers to the vessel for refining the elixir within the human body, shaped like a new moon. Within it is the natural fire of true Yang, which gently nourishes throughout the four seasons and illuminates Heaven and Earth; therefore, it needs no charcoal to fuel it. In external alchemy, by contrast, charcoal is essential. Here, the metaphor is simply reversed to refer to internal alchemy.

Within the crescent-moon furnace, jade medicine arises; inside the cinnabar cauldron, mercury gradually settles.

When the firing process is properly regulated, the Yellow Sprout—an image in alchemical practice that symbolizes the nascent elixir—will gradually grow and take shape.

Although Neidan (internal alchemy) and Waidan (external alchemy)—the methods of cultivating elixirs within the body and refining elixirs in a furnace and vessel—differ in practice, their effects are connected. Whether setting up the furnace and vessel or refining cinnabar and mercury, the key lies in the use of water and fire. Fire can generate Earth, and Earth can generate Metal. The “Yellow Sprout” is the numinous shoot from which the Golden Elixir first grows. Here, the furnace, vessel, and ingredients of Waidan are used as metaphors for the conditions and ingredients involved in cultivation within the human body.

Some say that the “Crescent Furnace” refers to the shape of the inner kidneys; this is incorrect. Others say that the cinnabar vessel symbolizes something red within the heart; this too is incorrect. And to explain jade medicine and mercury as specific substances such as Jing (essence) and bodily fluids is likewise mistaken. Though the Crescent Furnace and the cinnabar vessel draw on different symbols, both in fact refer to the instruments by which the Golden Elixir is refined within the body. The metaphors of jade medicine and mercury differ, but both in fact point to the foundations from which the Golden Elixir takes shape within the body.

If one understands how to increase and decrease, adjusts appropriately, and times the advance and withdrawal of fire correctly—so that rising and descending accord with Heaven and Earth, transformations in conjunction mirror the movements of the sun and moon, and the firing process is perfectly balanced—then the Yellow Sprout will form naturally. Auspicious Qi will spread everywhere, and the Golden Elixir will be complete. At that point, one can endure alongside Heaven and Earth.

Swallowing saliva and taking in breath are things anyone can do. But only when there is a true seed within the body does anything have the basis for growth.

Without a true seed within the body, it is like boiling an empty pot with water and fire.

Saliva belongs to water, and Qi belongs to fire. The human body is moistened by saliva and set in motion by Qi; only when water and fire nourish each other can life be sustained. If indulgence in desires grows ever stronger and exhausts the foundations of water and fire, true Jing will be depleted. This is like a tree that has lost its roots: even if rain and dew nourish it, it cannot grow on its own. When the original vital essence has already been emptied, swallowing saliva and taking in Qi alone is like boiling an empty pot with water and fire. It brings no benefit and may even cause harm. At this point, to preserve and harmonize the Qi of life and set one’s nature and life in proper order, who could accomplish it without abundant, pure, and complete Yang strength, moving ceaselessly like the Way of Heaven?

To refine and nourish the Golden Elixir, lead and mercury must be brought into harmony and kept in balance. Neither Yin nor Yang can be damaged; only then can the Elixir be formed. If we ask what true lead is like, it is like the moonlight of the toad, shining over the western riverlands throughout the day.

The Golden Elixir is refined from lead and mercury, and its formation depends on their working together in balance. If one becomes predominant and they cannot be harmonized, one will be damaged. When the two energies wax and wane, how can the Golden Elixir be formed? Those who do not understand take Yang to be noble and strong, and Yin to be lowly and weak. They explain Yin’s decline and Yang’s advance, and the return of Yang energy, as “the small departing and the great arriving,” and conclude that no harm is done. Such interpretations are all forced.

In fact, the Golden Elixir cannot be refined from either substance alone; lead must be paired with mercury. Each has its own nature, like “two kingdoms.” They must be harmonized according to the firing process—the principles for regulating heat and timing during refinement—so that they unite as one and the Elixir can form. Hence the scripture says, “Though their names differ, in truth they come from the same source; few understand this.” The mystery of Yin and Yang is the key to alchemy.

If we ask what true lead looks like, it is like the moon’s radiance, shining over the western riverlands throughout the day. “Toad’s spirit” refers to the moon’s watery essence; “western riverlands” points to the Metal symbolized by the Kun and Shen directions. The Jing of the Dragon and Tiger says, “On the third day, the moon appears at Geng, spreading between Mao and You in the west.” This uses Metal generating Water as a metaphor to explain the first appearance of the toad’s spirit in the moon. The moon belongs to Water and Yin. By nature it is dark and cannot shine by itself; it must borrow the Sun’s fire to become bright. That is why the toad’s radiance does not fade throughout the day.

This is like a mirror made of copper and iron. Newly cast, it is dull and cannot reflect anything. Only after lead and tin are added does its surface become bright, with a radiance comparable to the Sun and Moon. This is because copper and iron belong to Yin, while lead and tin belong to Yang: Yin must rely on Yang to become visible. The Cantong qi’s words, “The Sun joins with the essences of the Five Phases, while the Moon follows the courses of the six pitch-pipes,” express this principle.

Before achieving the Golden Elixir through Neidan practice, do not retreat into the remote mountains. Neither within the mountains nor beyond them will you find true “lead”—here, the true Yang Qi needed for alchemy, not the metal.

This supreme treasure is already within everyone; people of the present age simply have not fully recognized it.

The “great recluse” lives hidden among the people, while the “lesser recluse” lives in the remote mountains. The marketplace is a place everyone can see and point to, where all kinds of goods gather. When practitioners cultivate there, the Way of the Elixir is easier to begin. This does not mean making Waidan. The human body, for example, also has a place like a marketplace: it is where the hundred bones and meridians converge, and where the “seven treasures and six Yangs”—Neidan terms for the body’s essential energies and other elements of cultivation—are found. By working at this place within themselves, those who cultivate the Dao may hope to refine the internal Elixir.

Remote mountains are secluded and quiet, places of Yin; there is no need to make a point of retreating there. The same is true of refining the Golden Elixir: seek the utmost Yang rather than pursuing the utmost Yin. Master Yunfang, a cultivator from Daoist lore, said that the seven things—mucus, saliva, essence, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and liquid—are all Yin. This shows that neither within the mountains nor beyond them is there “lead.” Ping Shu (Zhang Boduan, known as Immortal Ziyang) said that to refine the internal Elixir, one should cultivate true Yang, not the utmost Yin.

The treasure of true Yang is innate in everyone, regardless of rank or status, age or size, whether one is a monk or a Daoist, an ordinary person or an immortal. As the Confucians say, all things have their own principles, and human beings are born with an enduring nature. This is what is meant by “the supreme treasure is in every home.”

When bamboo breaks, bamboo is the right material to mend it; to hatch a chicken, one should use a chicken egg.

Using things that are unlike one another for cultivation will only waste effort. How could that compare with bringing true lead into accord with the principles of the sacred Dao?

The Book of Changes says that things of the same kind gather together, while unlike things separate. Besides, the Great Way of the Golden Elixir is not apart from one’s own body; its workings silently correspond to Heaven and Earth. One should seek the root, trace back to the source, and return to the origin. Then the utmost Dao is not difficult. If one uses methods of every kind without recognizing the Yang source represented by true lead, it is like trying to obtain its … by means of a flower.

If, in cultivation, one can obtain what is truly fundamental, how could the result obstruct the Great Dao? Just as bamboo is needed to mend a bamboo vessel, a suitable material is needed to repair a broken vessel, and true lead—the essential ingredient in alchemy, here meaning pure Yang Qi—must be present for the workings of forming the elixir to come together. Why? Original Jing can nourish original Qi, and original Qi can nourish original Shen. These are all principles of accord with nature and mutual influence: true Yang governs ordinary Yin. If one instead uses common lead, whose nature is incompatible, all one’s efforts will be in vain.

When using lead, one must not use common lead; even when using true lead, one must set it aside once the time has come.

This is the subtle secret of using lead: lead is needed for alchemy, but one must not become attached to it. These words truly strike at the heart of the matter.

An ancient immortal said, “Foxes and rabbits cannot nurse a horse; sparrows and swallows cannot produce a phoenix. To grow grain, use grain seed; to make a golden bell, use gold.” He also said, “Lead is the mother of the numinous sprout, and the numinous sprout is the child of lead. Once the golden flower—the sign of accomplishment that appears in the alchemical process—has formed, lead must be abandoned.” From this we can see that lead, as the mother, comes in two kinds: true lead and common lead. There is also a proper sequence for setting it aside: first, the mother nurtures the child, so true lead must be used to establish the foundation of the elixir; when the elixir is mature, the lead mother must be left behind so that the child can stand on its own. An ancient verse says, “Having raised the child to become a dragon, one’s spirit soars; yet the original mother is now judged low and noisy.” This is what it means.

This passage describes the practice of Waidan (external alchemy), in which substances are used to produce elixirs. Students should grasp its principle and apply it to Neidan (internal alchemy). For example, keeping the mind settled, directing attention to the kidneys, conserving Qi, and refining Jing all carry the meaning of “using lead.” But upon reaching the supreme Golden Elixir and the Great Dao of Wuwei (non-action), one no longer clings to the heart, liver, spleen, lungs, or kidneys, nor to Jing, fluids, Qi, blood, or humors. Thus the saying “use lead without clinging to its use” is indeed true.

“Empty the mind and fill the belly” has a profound meaning in each phrase. The key is that, after emptying the mind, one must also recognize this mind.

Rather than refining Lead (Qian) first, it is better to begin by refining Lead. The things within the body—Jing, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids—must all be kept from dissipating heedlessly. So the teaching to “use Lead without using it” certainly makes sense.

The phrase “empty the heart and fill the belly” carries a profound meaning. To speak of emptying the heart is to teach people to recognize their original mind.

Rather than speak only of emptying the heart, it is better to first fill the belly with Jing and Qi. This teaches people to guard and gather their own precious Jing and Qi, as though filling a hall with treasures.

When the heart is empty, it is untouched by even the slightest distracting thought, and can be used to cultivate one’s nature. When the belly is full, the body’s most precious treasure is not depleted, and can be used to nurture and refine Neidan (internal alchemy). Here, “filling the belly” means preserving Jing and Qi through Daoist Neidan practice, so that the Elixir has what it needs to grow. This is the foundation on which those who cultivate the Dao begin their practice.

Yet people often intend to make the heart empty and still, only to find it filled with distracting thoughts; they intend to fill the belly, only to find their Jing and Qi depleted. Why is this? I see that those whose minds are in turmoil are tangled in countless thoughts and upside-down fantasies, along with the afflictions of greed, anger, and delusion. They chase after external things and forget to turn back and observe themselves. How could they truly have known their own mind? Those whose bellies are empty indulge their desires, take delusion as their normal state, and squander their original endowment. They seek pleasure day and night—how could they ever fill the belly?

That is why Ping Shu (Zhang Boduan, honored as the Realized Person of Purple Yang) took pity on people and repeatedly cautioned them about both “emptying the heart” and “filling the belly.” If the two must be put in order, with the first task taken up first, then filling the belly cannot be delayed. The reason is simple: it is difficult for the human heart to become truly empty and still. If the heart reaches emptiness and stillness, it can share the vastness of Heaven and Earth and move in accord with the transformations of creation. Confucius did not attain the state of “following the heart’s desires without overstepping the bounds” until he was seventy. How easy is it to reach such an empty-hearted state? Filling the belly, by contrast, can be begun sooner. As long as one reduces one’s infatuation with sights and sounds, moderates one’s cravings and desires, preserves one’s original endowment, and nurtures Jing and Qi, Lead can be refined and the belly filled. Then the body’s “golden treasure” will accumulate, helping one preserve health and attain longevity.

In a dream, I paid homage at Xihua, ascended to the Ninth Heaven, and clearly received a teaching on the mysterious Dao.

Its message was brief and to the point, with few words: it simply teaches you to refine Mercury and Lead—the Neidan terms often used to refer to Yin-Yang Jing and Qi within the body and mind.

Zhang Pingshu said, “If you study to become an immortal, you should aspire to become a Celestial Immortal. A Celestial Immortal leaves the grotto dwelling and takes a place among the Nine Heavens, riding clouds and wind, mounted on a luan bird or a crane, and can also descend to the human world, where emperors reside. The mountains, rivers, and all the earth are subject to the cycles of tribulation, but the Celestial Immortal’s free and effortless joy is beyond their reach. What, then, must one cultivate to attain this state? Its principles are profound and subtle, yet its method is brief and easy to practice: simply refine and nourish the two medicines, lead and mercury. Those who study the Dao with utmost sincerity may even see their aspirations in dreams; they can also travel to pay homage at the Western Flower Heavenly Gate, the legendary portal to the realm of immortals. For this reason, the Celestial Immortal solemnly transmitted the Treatise on Pointing to the Mystery, so that practitioners of the Dao might refine the great medicines of lead and mercury. Its method is brief and easy to practice, unlike the many complexities of the 3,600 side paths.”

From the Void, the Dao gives rise to a single Qi; from this Qi, Yin and Yang emerge.

When Yin and Yang unite, they give rise to a third form. These three continue to transform and generate, and the myriad things flourish and multiply.

Before Heaven and Earth were divided, all was undifferentiated and whole. The myriad things formed in primordial chaos: how could Yin and Yang yet be distinguished, or things exist as separate entities? The Dao gives rise to “One”: this is the primordial Qi of the Great One, containing the True. “One” gives rise to “Two”: this is the opening and closing, the changing forms of Yin and Yang. “Two” gives rise to “Three,” and “Three” transforms and generates the myriad things, which then divide into their different forms. If practitioners can trace things back to their beginning and grasp where they return, understanding that the Great Dao is nameless and rooted in a single Qi, they must draw this Qi from the depths of obscurity and use it to refine the Golden Elixir. Then Yin and Yang will interact and unite, as all things are generated between Heaven and Earth. In the end, one will stand alongside Heaven and Earth as one of the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and humanity.

Within Kan, thunder and lightning perform the refining, bringing Metal and Water together; fire is kindled at Kunlun, the site of inner cultivation in the human body, and Yin and Yang unite in response.

If these two medicines can be brought together in one place, they will naturally be refined, and their fragrance will spread throughout the body.

Kan represents water and Li represents fire. “Boiling and roaring” describes the sounds made when water and fire clash. “The quarter of metal and water” refers to the northwest. The fire Qi rises and unfolds: the pure Yang Qi steams upward. Kunlun originally means a mountain towering toward heaven; here it refers to the place in cultivation where the Qi mechanism moves, ascending and descending. The union of Yin and Yang is the way the Dao operates. “The two things” are the crow and the hare, often used to symbolize the sun and moon, and also to represent the two forces of Yin and Yang. “Return to one place” means the point where they meet and merge. “When the medicine is mature, the body gives off fragrance” is a sign that the Golden Elixir has been formed.

This passage praises the subtlety of these principles and expresses the heart of the Great Dao: within Wuwei (non-action), there is action; amid what seems to be or not to be, there is an image; everything follows its natural course. For example, the Yang Qi of the Earth Thunder Returning hexagram revives at the hour of Zi, the first of the twelve double hours, and the hexagram belongs to Kan. Within Kan there is lightning, symbolizing fire arising within water and Yin and Yang clashing, producing the sound of “boiling and roaring.” Fire by nature rises, and its force ascends to Kunlun. Though Kunlun is high, it still contains the two forces of Yin and Yang. If they can be harmonized and brought together in one place, the great medicine will mature naturally, and fragrance will arise throughout the body. This is like jade hidden in a mountain, nourishing the plants and trees, or a pearl born in the depths, keeping the cliffs from drying out.

If Li and Kan lack Wu and Ji—the symbols of Earth, used to harmonize Yin and Yang—even though they contain the Four Images, they cannot refine the Golden Elixir. Only because both hold true Earth can the Golden Elixir return to its source and restore its original state.

The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) says: The Kan trigram corresponds to Wu Earth, and the Li trigram to Ji Earth. Li belongs to Fire, and Fire is generated by Wood. Wood is symbolized by the Azure Dragon, and Fire by the Vermilion Bird. Kan belongs to Water, and Water is generated by Metal. Metal is symbolized by the White Tiger, and Water by the Black Tortoise. Though Li and Kan are two trigram images, within them they contain four symbols: Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water.

If the central Earth is not included, Water and Fire will clash with one another, and the Golden Elixir cannot be refined. The “Four Images” here are Water, Fire, Wood, and Metal; the “Four Branches” are Zi, Wu, Mao, and You. The northern Zi position belongs to Water, and among the lunar mansions associated with Zi is the Earth Bat of the Girl mansion. The southern Wu position belongs to Fire, and Wu has the Earth Deer of the Willow mansion. The eastern Mao position belongs to Wood, and Mao has the Earth Badger of the Net mansion. The western You position belongs to Metal, and You has the Earth Pheasant of the Stomach mansion. From this we can see that each of the Four Images contains actual Earth, allowing the Golden Elixir to return and congeal. That is why it is said: “Without Wu Earth and Ji Earth, the Golden Elixir cannot be refined.”

The sun occupies the position of Li, yet it transforms into a feminine woman; the Kan trigram is paired with the lunar palace, yet it is a masculine man.

Unless you understand how Yin and Yang reverse and transform into one another, do not make sweeping claims based on partial understanding.

The sun corresponds to the Li trigram, positioned at the southern Horse direction. It should belong to Yang, yet is classified as “female,” because the center of the Li trigram is empty: it is Yin within Yang. The moon corresponds to the Kan trigram, positioned at the northern Rat direction. It should belong to Yin, yet is classified as “male,” because the center of the Kan trigram is full: it is Yang within Yin.

The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), a Daoist alchemical classic, says: “Kan’s Wu is the moon’s essence; Li’s Ji is the sun’s radiance.” The moon belongs to Great Yin, yet contains the Yang of water and earth represented by the Wu position in the Kan trigram. Receiving this Yang Qi and shining with it, the moonlight becomes clear. The sun belongs to Great Yang, yet contains the Yin of fire and earth represented by the Ji position in the Li trigram. Supported by this Yin, the sunlight grows brighter. This is what it means for Yin to contain Yang and Yang to contain Yin. When Yin and Yang transform into each other, this is called the Dao; when the Five Phases are used in reverse, this is called the Elixir. These principles are profound and subtle, and are difficult to understand without a master’s guidance. Speculation based only on shallow understanding does nothing to uncover their meaning.

Take the Yang Qi that fills the center of the Kan trigram and use it to transform the Yin Qi that leaves the Li trigram’s position empty. In this way, one refines a substance as firm and vigorous as the pure Yang of the Qian trigram. The changes of concealment and ascent in cultivation are all governed by the mind’s intention.

The secret of “emptying Kan and filling Li” is not the ordinary practice of harmonizing water and fire or nourishing oneself through the union of heart and kidneys. Its meaning has already been explained in the passage “Know for yourself that reversal comes from Li and Kan.” The idea of “transforming into a firm and vigorous Qian body” was also explained in the passage “Plant the seed in Qian’s chamber of union”; it will not be discussed further here.

Ping Shu also says, “Concealment and ascent alike depend on the mind.” The Book of Changes’ Qian hexagram consists of six lines and symbolizes six dragons; it is a pure Yang hexagram. The first line represents concealment, and the lines that follow represent ascent. These transformations all depend on how the mind is applied. The cultivation of the Golden Elixir is the same: one refines pure Yin into pure Yang, ultimately reaching a state equal to the firm and vigorous body of the Qian trigram.

The dragon of the Zhen trigram is mercury (an alchemical term symbolizing a Yang substance), born from the Li palace; the tiger of the Dui trigram is lead (an alchemical term symbolizing a Yin substance), produced in the direction of Kan.

The “two substances” are always generated from within a mother substance. For the Five Phases to be complete, the key is to bring them together in the center.

Wood liquid and Metal essence are symbolized by the Azure Dragon and White Tiger, respectively. The east belongs to Zhen, and the west to Dui; Zhen and Dui are also regarded as the roots of the Kan and Li trigrams. Dragon mercury emerges from the Li Palace, symbolizing Wood giving birth to Fire; tiger lead arises from the Kan Palace, symbolizing Metal giving birth to Water. Fire cannot arise from nothing: it must depend on Wood. Water, too, cannot come into being from nothing: it must depend on Metal. Metal and Wood are each concealed within Water and Fire, just as a mother is hidden within her fetus.

Yet the Five Phases depend on Earth to bring their transformations to completion. Thus Earth is at its strongest for eighteen days at each transition between the seasons, completing the year’s cycle of transformation. What is more, Metal and Wood occupy the west and east, while Water and Fire lie far apart in the north and south. Without the Earth of the central palace to harmonize them, they would be too far apart to unite. Thus it is said that when Wood liquid and Metal essence meet in Earth, the three combine. It is also said that the Li Palace is paired with Ji Earth and the Kan Palace with Wu Earth: without Wu Earth and Ji Earth, the Elixir cannot be refined.

The “Red Dragon and Black Tiger” unite east and west; the “Four Images” intermingle and gather in the center represented by Wu and Ji Earth.

The Yin-Yang changes of the Fu and Gou hexagrams can be put to use naturally. If one understands their mechanism, who can say that the Golden Elixir cannot be refined?

The Dragon symbolizes Wood, and the Tiger symbolizes Metal. “Uniting east and west” means bringing Metal and Wood together so they are no longer separated. The Four Images are the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Dark Warrior; Wu and Ji refer to the Earth of the central palace. “Intermingling” means bringing the Four Images together in the center. Without Wu and Ji Earth to harmonize them, the Elixir cannot be refined. The Fu hexagram symbolizes the first arising of Yang, and the Gou hexagram the first arising of Yin. If practitioners can grasp the moment when Yin and Yang begin to shift and rise or descend, and skillfully put this into practice in harmony with the workings of Heaven and Earth, refining the Golden Elixir will not be difficult. This is what the True Yin Person meant by saying, “the utmost divine and sacred achievement is extremely easy.”

The White Tiger of the Western Mountain is fierce by nature; the Azure Dragon of the Eastern Sea is powerful.

Seize them both and set them against each other; in the end, they will be refined into a single mass of purple-gold frost.

The west corresponds to the Dui position among the Eight Trigrams. Mountains belong to Earth, and the White Tiger belongs to Metal. Earth generates Metal, so the tiger symbolizes Metal. The east corresponds to the Zhen position. The sea belongs to Water, and the Azure Dragon belongs to Wood. Water generates Wood, so the dragon symbolizes Wood. The Azure Dragon is not easily brought under control.

Use both hands to seize the tiger and dragon and make them clash fiercely until they finally transform into a piece of purple-gold frost.

The west, the Dui position, Earth, the White Tiger, and Metal form one set of symbolic correspondences: Earth generates Metal, so the White Tiger is called Metal generated within Earth. The east, the Zhen position, seawater, the Azure Dragon, and Wood form another: Water generates Wood, so the Azure Dragon is called Wood generated within Water. The Metal Tiger is in the west and the Wood Dragon in the east, separated from each other. How can they be joined as one? These two forces must be gathered together, made to resonate and merge, and transformed into a piece of golden frost. The tiger and dragon are metaphors, and the two hands likewise refer figuratively to gathering and directing forces in cultivation; they do not mean that anything is literally seized. During cultivation, one must also hold the hands firmly in the guiding posture known as wo gu and concentrate the spirit, bringing restless forces into harmony and bringing unruly forces under control. In this way, the Golden Elixir can be refined quickly.

On the summit of Mount Huayue, the mighty tiger roars; beneath the sea at Fusang, the female dragon murmurs.

The Yellow Matron willingly serves as matchmaker, bringing them together as husband and wife, united in heart and purpose.

Huayue is the Western Mountain. The mighty tiger symbolizes the firm and strong nature of Metal, an expression of Earth generating Metal. Fusang refers to the eastern sea. The female dragon symbolizes the yielding nature of Wood, an expression of Water generating Wood. They dwell in the east and west, and Metal and Wood have different natures, so they seem difficult to unite. Only by bringing the Yellow Matron, a symbol of Earth, to the central palace—the body’s center or the central position in cultivation—can she serve as intermediary and end the separation between Metal and Wood. First draw in the Metal of the west, then unite it with the Wood of the east. The two will gather together like husband and wife, united in heart.

When the moon has just risen above the horizon, its light is still only a bright half-circle, yet the sounds of the dragon’s chant and the tiger’s roar have already appeared.

This is the right time to practice the “two eights.” According to this account, the Golden Elixir can be refined within a single double-hour.

As the moon shifts from waning to waxing and reaches its first quarter, its light gradually brightens. This is called “the upper crescent, half a jin.” It occurs around the seventh or eighth day of the lunar month. In the language of Neidan (internal alchemy), the moon seems to receive Yang energy from the sun, so its brightness gradually increases. The scripture uses “the dragon’s roar and the tiger’s howl” to describe the two Qi energies of Yin and Yang beginning to interact and stir, signaling that the conditions for alchemical practice are taking shape.

The dragon belongs to the Zhen trigram, which corresponds to Wood; the tiger belongs to the Dui trigram, which corresponds to Metal. Metal generates Water, and Wood generates Fire; Metal and Wood overcome one another, while Water and Fire interact. The scripture uses the dragon’s roar and the tiger’s howl to portray these Five Phases in interaction. It says that one should apply oneself at this time and cultivate “two and eight,” so that the internal elixir can be refined.

“Two and eight” here does not refer to the Mao and You hours, nor does it mean that two and eight together make one jin. Rather, it means that “two” and “eight” combine to make “ten.” The scripture treats this number as a great number encompassing the transformations of Heaven and Earth and the generation of the Five Phases. It then lists the numbers by which the Five Phases arise: Heaven’s one generates Water, and Earth’s six brings Water to completion; Earth’s two generates Fire, and Heaven’s seven brings Fire to completion; Heaven’s three generates Wood, and Earth’s eight brings Wood to completion; Earth’s four generates Metal, and Heaven’s nine brings Metal to completion; Heaven’s five generates Earth, and Earth’s ten brings Earth to completion. These numbers represent the order by which Yin and Yang of Heaven and Earth combine and the Five Phases arise. If practitioners of the Dao fully grasp the underlying principle, the “mysterious pearl” (a symbol of the internal elixir) can appear and the “Perfected One” (the state attained through successful cultivation) can emerge in a short time, making it possible to refine the Golden Elixir. Thus the scripture says that the Golden Elixir can be refined within a single double-hour.

This concludes Chapter Three of the Lectures on the Wuzhen Pian by Perfected Person Ziyang. Chapter Four opens by saying that one must first observe the celestial signs and understand the “Five Thieves” (the forces through which Yin-Yang and the Five Phases transform), then observe the geography and bring stability to the people. Once the people are settled and the country is prosperous, one must still seek battle. Only after victory can one encounter the “Sage” (one who has awakened to and attained the Dao).

“Victory” originally referred to the principles of warfare. But cultivating the true Dao and seeking the mysterious is the path to becoming an immortal. Pingshu has mixed these two together in his explanation, and later scholars may therefore understand the passage in different ways.

The Yinfu Jing says, “Heaven has five thieves; those who perceive them will prosper.” The “five thieves” refer to the Five Phases overcoming one another: Metal overcomes Wood, Wood overcomes Earth, Earth overcomes Water, Water overcomes Fire, and Fire overcomes Metal. Their mutual restraint, waxing and waning, and transformation together form the principles by which the Great Dao operates. One should first look up to observe the heavens and grasp the mysteries of the Dao, then look down upon the earth and bring order to the many people who live there.

Who are the people? Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants are the people of the world; the ears, eyes, and nose, along with the heart, lungs, liver, and kidneys, are the “people” within my body. A state is like the human body, and the earth is like the places occupied by its various parts. When a person’s mind is clear and unobstructed, sight and hearing are unhindered, and the five viscera are in harmony, the inner and outer nourish one another. The whole person then becomes calm and steady, with the mind and spirit settled and its radiance revealed. When the “people” within the body are at peace, the state too becomes prosperous.

The effects of “victory” do not come from brandishing weapons against an enemy, nor from trying to provoke a fight and placing oneself in a subordinate position. The Book of Changes says, “When Yin contests with Yang, they must fight; their blood is dark and yellow.” This means that when Yin and Yang are evenly matched, they inevitably clash, and the colors dark and yellow appear between Heaven and Earth. Within the human body, Yin and Yang also contend day and night. Only a sage can make Yang Qi prevail over Yin Qi and remain untouched by Yin’s harmful influence. This is the way to make the state prosperous and its military strong. Who but a sage could accomplish it?

In warfare, the two armies should be arranged on the left and right, allowing the other side to occupy the host’s position while one takes the guest’s position. I urge you not to underestimate the enemy in battle, lest you damage your own priceless treasure. The passage uses warfare as a metaphor to remind cultivators to guard with care their precious Jing and Qi, and their life and nature.

When reading this poem, practitioners should keep their thoughts pure and free of delusion so they can carefully grasp its meaning. Otherwise, it will be difficult to understand.

The Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the Daoist method of Neidan cultivation—describes the interaction of Yin and Yang Qi, which gives rise to creation. Why are Yin and Yang arranged on the left and right, as guest and host, and likened to armies facing one another in battle? Because when Yang Qi reaches its utmost, Yin arises; when Yin Qi reaches its utmost, Yang arises. Yin and Yang contend, as the scripture says, “their blood is dark and yellow.” Thus, there must be a “general” to command the armies on both sides. This “general” is the practitioner’s upright intention.

Whether the other is host and oneself guest, “host” means that Yang Qi moves first; “guest” means responding to that movement. Once there is a response, a battlelike encounter is hard to avoid. Practitioners may feel the Qi mechanism rumble like thunder and flash like lightning, with dragon and tiger leaping, circling, and blending. At such a time, they should gather and steady the spirit, keeping their attention single and undistracted by other thoughts. Only through this use of the spirit can Golden Elixir cultivation succeed. If activity and stillness fall out of balance, or one rushes to reach the goal, Yang Qi may surge and scatter like a “flowing pearl,” causing the loss of original Qi, as though one had thrown away one’s own priceless treasure.

Fire rises from within wood, and its sharp edge is hidden there from the beginning. If you do not understand the need for careful study, do not force the practice. Calamity often begins this way and turns back to harm the practitioner. To subdue this fiery nature, one must seek the “Golden Duke,” a term in Neidan that often refers to Metal Qi or the power that controls fire.

Wood can generate fire, yet the fire hidden within wood does not show itself. The human body, too, contains fire, concealed within us without our knowing it. Only those who study diligently can grasp the patterns of Heaven and Earth’s transformations. The ancients made fire by drilling into wood, showing that fire cannot be obtained simply by blowing on it but requires a method of sustained effort. In refining and cultivating oneself, one kindles the inner fire not through external things, but through the Way of cultivation. The Yinfu Jing says, “Fire is born from wood; once disaster arises, it must be overcome.” This means that fire is born within wood, but once its force rises, it will eventually turn back and destroy the wood. If people cannot master the fire within themselves, they too will be harmed by it. The sages subdue this fire at its source, seeking the “Metal Lord” (a Neidan term for metal nature or Qi) to overcome wood. Metal can in turn generate water, and water can overcome fire. In this way, wood and fire cease to be a source of harm and instead become useful to us. This is the principle of skillfully studying the transformations of Heaven and Earth.

The “Metal Elder” (a symbol of metal nature in alchemical poetry) was originally a child of a household in the east, sent to live and be born in a neighboring household in the west.

Recognize him, call him back home and raise him, then unite him with the “Maiden” (a feminine symbol in alchemical poetry) as kin.

Metal is born in Si (one of the Earthly Branches) and nurtured in Mao (one of the Earthly Branches). Mao belongs to the east, so Metal is called the child of the eastern household. Metal takes form in You (one of the Earthly Branches), and You belongs to the west, so Metal is said to live in the western neighbor’s home. Though east and west are different directions, Metal and Wood must unite. The two Qi move back and forth without any real separation, just as an infant and the Maiden become kin without distinction between the eastern household and the western neighbor. The two forces ultimately return to one place, bringing about the transformations of Heaven and Earth. This is the Way of the Golden Elixir, profound and subtle.

The Maiden travels along a set course: the distance ahead is short, while the distance behind is long.

On her return, she enters the abode of the Yellow Matron (the harmonizing medium in alchemical poetry), marries the Metal Elder, and becomes his wife.

The Maiden refers to the Great Yin (a symbol of Yin Qi). The Great Yin’s transformations and movements are precisely the Way of the Golden Elixir; its principle is profound and subtle.

The Maiden travels along a set course: the distance ahead is short, while the distance behind is long.

On her return, she enters the abode of the Yellow Matron, marries the Metal Elder, and becomes his wife.

“Crimson Maiden” refers to Great Yin, and “Great Yin” refers to the lunar soul—the Yin aspect of the moon. The lunar soul follows its own course through the directions. The Jing of the Dragon and Tiger says, “On the third day, the moon rises in the west at the Geng position, appearing between Mao and You.” Geng belongs to Metal, while the moon belongs to Water; this symbolizes Metal generating Water.

The Geng position lies in the west. On the evening of the third day of each month, the sun has just set in the western You position when the moon rises from the Geng position. The sun goes first, its light gradually waning; the moon appears afterward, its light steadily growing. The sun’s diminishing light symbolizes the setting of the solar soul, while the moon’s growing light symbolizes the gradual fullness of the lunar soul. The sun wanes as the moon waxes, and day gives way to night; their mutual coordination brings about the transformations of Heaven and Earth. The Yellow Matron of the central palace, symbolizing Earth, must also harmonize them so that the Metal Duke, symbolizing Metal, can unite with the Crimson Maiden and become the “Old Bridegroom.”

The Yellow Matron belongs to Earth, and Earth can generate Metal. Earlier, Metal generating Water symbolized the lunar soul of the Crimson Maiden beginning to grow full. Now Earth generates Metal in turn, and creation’s cycle continues without end; this is why the Metal Duke is called the “Old Bridegroom.” This is the meaning of the Cantong qi’s phrase “lofty and supremely honored.”

Even if one knows the alchemical materials, such as cinnabar and black lead, that knowledge is useless without understanding the timing of the firing process.

In short, alchemy depends entirely on the power of one’s cultivation. Even the slightest error means the Elixir cannot be produced.

The essentials of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir lie solely in the two medicines, Lead and Mercury. Lead arises in the north and is the True Water meant by “Heaven, through One, generates Water.” Mercury arises in the south and is the Wondrous Fire meant by “Earth, through Two, generates Fire.” These are utterly real and mysterious; they are not things borrowed from outside, but the original nature that everyone possesses yet fails to notice in daily life. The Lead and Mercury spoken of here are neither the human heart and kidneys, nor the trigrams Kan and Li, nor ordinary water and fire, or lead and mercury from the world.

If someone has a spiritual root from past lives and can grasp the meaning in written words, recognizing such Golden Elixir medicines as cinnabar and lead, then they have found the materials needed for alchemical work. Yet these medicines are extraordinarily subtle and difficult to refine. Lead, tin, and quicksilver, for example, disperse as soon as they meet fire—how could they be made into an elixir? Without understanding the timing of the fire, recognizing cinnabar and lead is of no use.

Fire is fire, and timing is timing; it is wrong for those who study the Dao to treat “fire and timing” as a single thing. In Waidan, methods of fire include gentle fire, strong fire, inserted fire, banked fire, the cyclical fire of the celestial circuit, the fire of the Four Cardinal Directions, the fire of completed crossing, and the fire of incomplete crossing. These are no different from the use of fire in Neidan. Five days make one period, three periods make one Qi, and seventy-two periods make a year: this refers to the seasonal periods of the year. Within a single day, the time from the hour of Hai to the hour of Zi is the period when Yin and Yang meet, while the time from the hour of Si to the hour of Wu is when Yang and Yin meet. The transitions from Zi to Chou and from Chou to Yin likewise mark moments when Yin and Yang alternate. These periods in the passage of time are no different from the timing of the fire described in Neidan.

Thus Zhang Ping-shu said that even if people correctly identify cinnabar and lead, they have only found the medicines of the Golden Elixir. If they do not understand the mystery of the timing of the fire, what they gain remains limited. Cultivation requires sincere, steadfast practice, with not a moment’s deviation, for only then can the Golden Elixir be refined. Otherwise, if one cultivates blindly and without a teacher’s transmission, even the slightest deviation will leave one far from the Golden Elixir. The sages transmit the medicines, but do not set the timing of the fire down in writing.

The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), a Daoist alchemical classic written by Wei Boyang, along with alchemical scriptures and songs, all speak of the most authentic truths. Yet they do not put into writing how to regulate the “fire and timing”—the control of heat and timing in alchemical practice.

To understand the profound and subtle parts of the oral instructions, one must discuss them carefully with the immortals and receive their guidance.

The Way of the Golden Elixir is indeed difficult to master. Those who receive the true transmission can quickly attain the state of a sage. If someone is not a suitable successor, the teaching is not readily passed on even between father and son. In truth, the difficulty lies not in the Golden Elixir itself, but in the fire and timing. The sages of antiquity taught methods for preparing alchemical substances but did not explain the fire and timing outright. Wei Boyang’s Cantong qi, other works by immortals discussing alchemical substances, alchemical scriptures, and poems all explain the foundations of alchemy in detail; only the fire and timing are left unwritten. One must meet a true teacher and receive the teaching directly, word of mouth and heart to heart, to grasp it in an instant and retain it for the long term.

The Great Dao is simple by nature. It is only that “fire” and “timing” each refer to something different, and people often fail to understand them. Though fire and timing are two things, they express the same principle; though they express one principle, its practical application has two aspects. Without oral instructions, how could one understand their mystery? Even if you are more intelligent than Yan Hui or Min Ziqian, do not try to guess at it if you have not met a true teacher. Therefore, one must discuss it carefully with the immortals.

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, when viewing the moonlight, the essence of Metal—the refined vital energy spoken of in Neidan practice—is at its full strength.

Even if you are more intelligent than Yan Hui or Min Ziqian, do not try to guess at it if you have not met a true teacher. Therefore, one must discuss it carefully with the immortals.

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month, when viewing the moonlight, the essence of Metal is at its full strength.

When Yang Qi has just begun to arise, one should promptly “advance the fire”—apply the fire and timing according to the cultivation instructions—and not delay.

Around the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, the autumn Qi is calm and Metal Qi is at its height. In the hexagrams, this corresponds to Dui. Practitioners should take note of this season. When the first Yang begins to arise and the hexagram changes to Fu, corresponding to the winter solstice, they should promptly apply their efforts and advance the “heating process”—using the timing of the fire to refine the Elixir—without delay, lest they miss the opportunity.

Zhang Boduan, whose courtesy name was Pingshu, used the seasons as a metaphor to explain how Metal and Water engender one another. He did not mean that alchemical practice can begin only in the eighth and eleventh lunar months, or that it cannot be undertaken in other months. Within a single day, too, there are moments like autumn, when Metal is at its height, and the winter solstice, when Yang arises: Metal Qi is strongest during the You hour, and Water Qi during the Zi hour. These correspond, respectively, to the eighth and eleventh months. This describes compressing the seasonal cycle of a year into a month, that of a month into a day, and that of a day into a two-hour period.

When the first Yang has just begun to stir, it is time to refine the Elixir. The Lead Cauldron—the place within the body where the Elixir is refined—grows warm and luminous, its light reflecting against the curtains.

At the beginning, when Qi is first received, it is easy to grasp. But afterward, adjusting and balancing it and guiding the heating process require care, lest things go awry.

The human body, like Heaven and Earth, undergoes changes of Yin and Yang. Each day, Yang Qi begins to rise at midnight, during the Zi hour, while Yin Qi begins to decline at noon, during the Wu hour. Practitioners should guide the workings of Heaven at these times, bringing their practice into exact accord with the rhythms of Yin and Yang. Only then can the Dao of the Elixir be brought to completion.

“Veil and curtain” evokes the image of a cloud chamber where apertures are sealed and curtains hang; it also calls to mind the phrase in Lü Dongbin’s poems and writings about light shining through curtains. Zhang Boduan uses this image to say that the first Yang begins to sprout at the Zi hour, at the very start of receiving Qi, and that this is precisely the time to begin refining the Elixir. Once the moment has passed, error and danger may follow. Thus, when Lead is stirred by Gui Water, it must be taken up promptly; once the season of flourishing Metal Qi has passed, it should no longer be gathered.

The Mysterious Pearl—a name for true Qi or the Elixir itself in internal alchemical practice—has its signs, appearing as Yang Qi begins to arise.

The Mysterious Pearl—a term in Neidan cultivation that symbolizes the Great Dao or the completion of the Elixir—appears as Yang Qi begins to arise. Once Yang Qi reaches its height, Yin essence gradually fades, and the pearl’s image vanishes with it.

In the tenth month, when frost and cold descend, the Elixir begins to mature. Taking it then would astonish even ghosts and spirits.

“Look up at it, and it seems beyond reach; probe it, and it seems impenetrable. It appears to be ahead, then suddenly seems to be behind”: this is how Confucians describe the Mysterious Pearl. “Perfectly rounded and whole, shining with radiance, clear and bright, alive with movement”: this is how Buddhists describe it. “A numinous treasury that penetrates and illuminates heaven and earth; a single point of suchness that gives rise to light in the empty, still chamber of the mind”: this is how Daoists describe it. Though the Three Teachings speak differently, they share the same Great Dao.

The Great Dao is formless by nature, yet it brings heaven and earth into being. The Yellow Emperor lost his pearl, and Wangxiang—the legendary figure who attained the Dao through emptiness, stillness, and freedom from intention—found it. Why, then, do we now speak of the Mysterious Pearl as having an image? When the Great Dao passes from the formless into form, its image appears naturally. Thus “a sun appears in a deep pool” is one such image; the True Person manifesting spontaneously is another. The Mysterious Pearl and the Golden Elixir are both symbols that emerge from the formless Great Dao. They are not sought by deliberate effort but arrive of themselves.

How mysterious! This image can appear and disappear, hide and reveal itself. When Yang Qi first arises, the Mysterious Pearl appears; as Yin Qi gradually grows, it withdraws. It therefore appears at the onset of Yang Qi’s height and disappears after Yin Qi reaches its peak. The corresponding hexagram is Fu, or Return, which represents the birth of a single Yang line: at the winter solstice, a single Yang arises in the zi position, and the Mysterious Pearl appears. The other corresponding hexagram is Bo, or Stripping, which represents Yin Qi at its height: when Yin Qi reaches its peak in the hai position, the Mysterious Pearl disappears.

The Elixir does not mature until the tenth month because then the frost is bitter and cold, all things return to their roots and renew their life, Yin Qi reaches its limit and Yang Qi begins to return, and the cycle of the celestial circuit is complete. Only then does the Elixir congeal. It is as large as a tangerine and as sweet as honey, and is called the “Jade Pear of Conjunction” or the “Fire Date.” It can be swallowed or expelled, like the jewel beneath a dragon’s jaw or the bezoar of an ox. Lü Dongbin says that whoever can drink this small measure of Elixir will attain such profound virtue that even ghosts and spirits will revere them. Is this not what is meant by “once it enters the mouth, ghosts and spirits are astonished”?

When one phase has passed, the next is about to arrive. The medicine’s flavor is balanced, and its workings are complete.

After gathering the medicine around the first quarter moon, place it in the furnace for refinement. Once it has been refined, it must still be gently nurtured and repeatedly cooked and simmered.

“Before the bow” refers to the waxing moon, around the seventh or eighth day of the lunar month; “after the bow” refers to the waning moon, around the twenty-second or twenty-third day. The word “bow” describes the moon when it first appears or gradually wanes, its shape forming a half circle like a taut bowstring. The scripture holds that at these times the cinnabar’s essence is clear and pure, the Golden Essence abundant, and the medicine’s nature balanced; all the conditions needed for alchemical refinement are in place. Practitioners should follow the celestial patterns and gather the Qi of Metal and Water within themselves. In the spirit furnace, they should increase or reduce the fire according to its proper timing, gently nurturing and cooking the ingredients until Water and Fire are harmonized. In this way, they can refine the Golden Elixir without seeking anything else.

“Eldest Son” refers to the Zhen trigram, and “Youngest Daughter” to the Dui trigram. Zhen corresponds to Wood, and Dui to Metal. “Wine of the West” uses the West’s association with Metal and wine as a symbol of Water to suggest that Metal generates Water. “Flower of the Northern Land” uses the North’s association with Kan Water and the flower as a symbol of lead’s brilliance to suggest lead within Water. “Azure Maiden” refers to the Azure Lady and stands for Wood Mercury; “Yellow Matriarch” refers to the Yellow Woman, that is, Earth at the center. These allusions to the Cantong qi explain that cinnabar and Wood Essence must be joined with Metal. When Metal meets Wood, their interaction through overcoming one another brings about transformation; they must not be kept apart. Without central Earth to harmonize and bind them together, Zhen in the East and Dui in the West cannot unite and bring forth transformation. Wood’s nature follows Metal’s principle of righteousness, while Metal Essence is drawn to Wood’s benevolence. Their union and mutual restraint must be brought about with the help of central Earth, symbolized by the Yellow Matriarch.

When the Rabbit and Rooster months, or their corresponding hours, arrive, Punishment and Virtue come together at the gate. This is the moment when the signs of the medicine appear. Here, Rabbit and Rooster stand for the Mao and You months or hours, while “Punishment and Virtue” refers to the timing when Yin and Yang wax and wane and Punishment and Virtue converge.

When cultivation reaches this stage, the Golden Elixir (the essence and Qi formed through internal cultivation) should be gently nurtured, as if bathed. If the firing process continues, there is a danger of collapse.

When things reach an extreme, they often turn toward their opposite. This is a natural principle. In the Qian hexagram of the Book of Changes, the top yang line represents pure Yang at its height. The sages therefore used the warning “The arrogant dragon will have cause to regret” to teach that excessive Yang brings regret and harm. According to the Five Phases’ cycles of flourishing and growth, Metal begins to arise at the Si position and reaches its peak at the You position; Wood begins to arise at the Hai position and reaches its peak at the Mao position. The rabbit corresponds to Mao Wood, and the rooster to You Metal. Metal governs punishment and killing, while Wood governs the virtue of growth and renewal. Their meeting point is Mao and You. Mao and You are the “gates of two and eight”: the passages through which the sun and moon rise and set, and Yin-Yang shifts between day and night.

The Great Dao takes the movements of Yin-Yang and the sun and moon as its foundation. When cultivation reaches the extreme fullness symbolized by Mao and You, one should stop applying fire and enter the “bathing” stage. Hold fast to a single Qi, letting the mind and spirit grow gentle and still, in Wuwei and calm simplicity. In this way, the harmonious, balanced Qi of original Yang can fill the space between Heaven and Earth. The mind is then free of external things and naturally unites with the Great Void, the vast, formless ground of Heaven and Earth. The phrase “all the body’s bones and limbs are properly aligned, at rest in Wuwei” means that the whole body is harmonized and upright, settled in non-action. No more fire should be applied at this point; otherwise, the medicine—the essence and Qi condensed through internal cultivation—will disperse, bringing danger. This shows why one must carefully guard against errors when applying the firing process, drawing out and adding, advancing and withdrawing.

The sun and moon complete a cycle and meet every thirty days. By substituting hours for days, one can carry out this wondrous practice.

Guarding the furnace and cauldron is like defending a city, while applying the firing process is like waging war in the open field. Understanding the right moment allows one to distinguish good fortune from misfortune. In this way, adding fire gradually fills the numinous cinnabar—an image for the elixir gained through internal cultivation—within the cauldron and brings out its red color.

Heaven and Earth function through the movements of the Sun and Moon, illuminating all things in the world without pause, day or night. Every thirty days, the Sun and Moon meet at the end and beginning of the lunar month—the end of the month is called hui, and the first day is called shuo. Then their cycle begins again, and their movement is never exhausted.

The Great Dao works through the Golden Elixir, the refined substance of Jing, Qi, and Shen sought in Neidan cultivation. Through “cooking the Crow and refining the Hare”—a process of cultivation symbolized by the Sun and Moon, Yin and Yang—and “subduing the Dragon and taming the Tiger”—regulating the Yin-Yang and mind-spirit within the body—one cultivates in accordance with the laws governing Heaven and Earth. A period of cultivation takes the place of the Sun and Moon’s movements, thereby seizing the creative power of Heaven and Earth and attaining long life without death.

In cultivation, one gathers in the year, month, day, and hour, layer by layer, to concentrate one’s effort. At the same time, one guards body and mind as if defending a city, overcoming inner deluded thoughts and restless impulses, forming no fantasies and allowing no desires to rule. In this way, one naturally avoids misfortune and moves toward good fortune: victory brings good fortune, defeat brings misfortune; good fortune allows life to flourish, while misfortune leads to death. If one wins every contest, one can enjoy good fortune for a long time without misfortune. The priceless treasure lies within oneself. Like the numinous cinnabar refined through nine cycles, it is gradually formed through accumulated effort, until its red radiance shines through, enough to startle Heaven, Earth, and the spirits.

When the hexagram Pi joins with the hexagram Tai, all things become abundant. The hexagrams Zhun and Meng receive the breath of the trigrams and take on their endowments as they come into being.

Once you grasp the meaning, do not become attached to the hexagrams. If you fixate on tracing the changes in each line, these details will instead entangle your mind and spirit.

When the qi of Heaven and Earth come together, the Tai hexagram is formed; when they do not come together, the Pi hexagram is formed. The meaning of Tai can also be explained through the images of the Already Fulfilled and Not Yet Fulfilled hexagrams. The Book of Changes says that the Water over Thunder hexagram, Zhun, symbolizes the birth of things and a difficult beginning; the noble person should plan how to bring order to them. A spring emerging beneath a mountain is the image of the Meng hexagram; the noble person should act decisively and cultivate virtue. What the Zhun and Meng hexagrams symbolize is the very beginning of Yin and Yang’s growth—the stage at which those who cultivate the Dao should practice and nurture themselves.

People seek the Golden Elixir, the goal of Neidan cultivation, yet become confused by “drawing out and adding” (a method of adjusting Yin and Yang and increasing or decreasing the intensity of cultivation), then lose their way amid “fire times” (the ability to judge timing and degree during cultivation). They consequently treat all sixty-four hexagrams and three hundred and eighty-four lines of the Book of Changes as instructions for specific practices, wasting years to no avail and reaching old age without achieving anything. Zhang Pingshu (Zhang Boduan, a Daoist Neidan adept) therefore said that once the qi of Heaven and Earth comes together, all things become abundant. One should begin with the initial stage symbolized by Zhun and Meng, tending the original spirit as things pass through a difficult beginning, still shrouded in obscurity. Do not let the mind and spirit turn outward even in the slightest. In this way, one can naturally make progress in cultivating the Dao, and all things in Heaven and Earth can be complete within oneself. If so, why cling to hexagram images and numbers, letting the lines dictate one’s course?

Hexagram images establish symbols to represent the forms of things. Once their meaning is grasped, the words can be forgotten, and the meaning becomes clear of itself.

People in later generations who are confused cling only to the hexagram images. They become attached instead to calculating the qi of the hexagrams, hoping to use it to ascend to the heavens and become immortals.

Before Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) had differentiated, something already existed as an undivided whole within chaos. How could one speak then of the images of the trigrams? Only after Heaven and Earth separated and Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth) were established did the sages set up the trigram images and draw the lines of the hexagrams. The foundation of the Yi, or Book of Changes, is simply to use the movements and transformations of the sun and moon to explain its principles. Its meaning is profound and subtle, and the Great Dao is contained within it.

If those who study the Dao do not understand this, but cling only to the hexagram images and arrange their practice according to the Qi of the hexagrams (the method of correlating hexagram images with dates and seasonal periods), they distribute the sixty-four hexagrams and three hundred eighty-four lines across thirty days: using the Tun hexagram in the morning and the Meng hexagram at night, then the Xu hexagram in the morning and the Song hexagram at night—while excluding Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li. Some even use a method of “supplementary hexagrams” to make up for the twenty-ninth day. This is truly absurd and amounts to nothing but wasted effort.

Yet they do not understand: if one uses the Water-and-Thunder Tun hexagram in the morning, what exactly should one do to embody the image of “Tun”? If one uses the Mountain-and-Water Meng hexagram at night, how should one embody the image of “Meng”? And with hexagrams such as Water-over-Heaven Xu and Heaven-over-Water Song, what concrete rules could put their images into practice? As a result, people often fall into confusion.