《还丹至药篇》

In my youth I lived in a military camp, yet my heart favored quiet and the profound mysteries. Later I met like-minded people, who showed me the furnace fires of alchemy. From then on I practiced alchemy for some twenty years, but the worldly thoughts in my mind never faded, and worldly desires remained with me throughout. I sought only methods for nourishing life and preserving my existence, and never grasped the key to the Golden Elixir (Jindan).

After years of drifting, I had accomplished nothing. I had gone astray and fallen into confusion, and only later understood that the eight minerals (bashi, the mineral substances used in alchemy) have no power to make a person attain the Dao (the Way) and become an immortal, and that the five metals (wujin, the metals used in alchemy) are nothing more than ordinary materials. Though I did not succeed, I held no grudge against others. I knew only that I had not probed deeply into the profound principles, nor truly pursued their far-reaching meaning.

Later, having escaped a great calamity, I happened to meet an exceptional master. Seeing the sincerity of my intent, he transmitted the oral formula to me, entrusting it solemnly under oath and warning me never to pass it on to ordinary people. I practiced according to the formula and saw its marvelous effects with my own eyes, and so I came to know that its principles are deep and subtle, and truly of the utmost importance.

Although I understood in an instant, I also felt alarm: first, I feared that my cultivation and merit were still insufficient; second, I worried that my innate constitution was poor and my lifespan limited. I also observed that among those who have sought learning through the ages were the descendants of emperors, scholars of outstanding talent and virtue, and gentlemen of lofty ambition. Millions have set their minds on this Way, yet very few have truly made a name. This convinced me that obtaining the alchemical method does not depend on noble family background; those who can obtain it each have their own affinity and allotted portion.

I am ashamed that I am only an ordinary soldier, yet I was fortunate enough to meet an immortal's elixir formula, and so was able to see clearly the root of true lead and true mercury, and to discern the beginning and function of true water and true fire. The vital pivot of the "yellow sprout" (huangya, an alchemical term for the key sign of the elixir's formation) seems to lie in my hands, and the subtlety of "autumn mineral" (qiushi, an alchemical term for an important substance or stage in the relevant methods) is likewise recorded in my heart. To receive such an opportunity far exceeded my hopes; it was like something rarely encountered even in ten thousand lifetimes.

Thereupon I reformed myself and devoted myself wholly to cultivating the Dao, no longer craving luxury. I wore coarse cloth, seeking only what accorded with my own heart. I did my best to extend kindness and do good, to nourish my spirit (Shen), and to help those in need.

Recently, in my leisure, I have thought of those who sought the Dao alongside me, who wasted their efforts in vain, studying alchemy with great toil only to mistake a snake's finger for a dragon. Many have taken the wrong path and labored for nothing because they did not understand the root of lead and mercury, and merely listened to the deceptive talk of those who speak so earnestly of turning stone into gold. In the end, the eight minerals were dissipated and the five metals burned away, and they still gained nothing.

Now I will set out a modest view, offering encouragement to fellow seekers with the same aspiration: the Great Medicine truly exists, and the Returned Elixir (huandan) can truly be sought. Those who cultivate must be consistent inside and out, with words matching deeds, unafraid of hardship, and must seek instruction in person from accomplished masters. I have written these ten hymns in the hope of leaving them to my fellow practitioners; may we all withdraw together from worldly turmoil and retire to the clouds and heavens.

Wuxuanzi Xianzhi (the author's self-given name) says:

For a long time I was immersed in the highest arts of cultivation, studying them with great toil. I have searched for and read the immortals' scriptures (Jing) for twenty years. By chance, I found "white mercury" in the fire phases, and suddenly I saw "lead-silver" in the water. (These are Neidan (internal alchemy) terms, borrowing the names of metals to refer to important substances and transformations in the alchemical process.)

Only then did I understand that the aspiration of my whole life had not been in vain, and I awoke to see that my former attachment to body and mind was no more than a dream or illusion. I lit long-burning aloeswood from the land of Yan, cleansed my heart, and paid homage to the Jade Emperor, the True Sovereign.

I am ashamed to say that I was originally only a lowly soldier who had just set out from the camp gate, and I never expected that the dark light could illuminate even what lies beneath an overturned basin. Now I understand how the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) generate and overcome one another and change back and forth, and I also recognize the principle by which the dragon and tiger fight and devour each other. (Neidan often uses "dragon and tiger" as a metaphor for Yin-Yang or for two forces in the alchemical process.)

Turning south into north, and then forming from the north again: it looks like running about in pursuit of being, yet in the end it is preserving being within non-being. If someone does not share my aspirations, I would only begin to speak of these matters, and when I meet an unsuitable person, I say little.

I know well that meeting with this opportunity was ordained by heaven. Even ordinary people in the dusty world can see the Dantian (energy center; in Daoist Neidan, the place within the body for cultivation and refinement). Profound principles descend in secret and need not be proclaimed. Only when reading the immortals' scriptures did I focus my mind on grasping their essentials.

In the furnace I saw the Yellow Sprout (a Neidan term for the subtle Qi or the alchemical signs that first appear during cultivation), and after refining the sacred stone (an alchemical term whose referent varies by tradition), it seemed I could hold it in the palm of my hand. Although my aspirations have left the dust of the world, my body has not yet left it, and all the affairs before my eyes have gradually come to seem insignificant.

Because I read the Cantong qi (the Daoist alchemical classic Zhouyi cantong qi), I suddenly understood clearly that the Yellow Sprout is right here in the world. Everyone is upside down and deluded and cannot find it; everyone is dim and confused and merely travels far in vain.

The four factors circulate in turn, forming the foundation at the beginning of cultivation; when the two forces unite, they accord with the first stirring of germination. The River Chariot (a Neidan metaphor for circulating Jing and Qi) gradually transforms the elixir into a substance like a budding embryo, and then changes the forms of the Azure Dragon and White Tiger.

After comprehending True Lead (a Neidan term for the true Jing or the key substance needed in alchemical refinement), I became fearful instead: living in the dusty world, I worry that I must still wait for the guidance of the divine. Without cultivating merit and accumulating good deeds, my foundation and capacity for understanding are shallow; living amid common ignorance, I fear all the more that my bones and constitution are too slight to bear cultivation.

From now on I intend to cherish water and earth (alchemical terms for the conditions on which cultivation depends) and no longer covet gold and jade treasures. When the Qian-Kun cauldron has completed its refining and the allotted years are fulfilled, I will take up my elixir gourd and go to Chicheng (a legendary immortal mountain).

I have heard that there is an elixir of transcendence in the world, and those who seek to learn it are as numerous as hemp stalks, yet very few truly obtain it. Many scholars only know how to refine the so-called "Four Yellows" and to treat the Eight Stones (traditional alchemical names for mineral substances), yet do not know what the dragon and tiger actually look like.

They only turn the pages of scriptures again and again, keeping thousands upon thousands of volumes open for long years. The moment they begin practice they toil for thirty years, until their temples are white as frost, and still they do not recognize True Lead.

Hundreds of millions of people seek it and cannot find it; from antiquity to the present, this matter has been profoundly deep and hidden. In the cultivation practices discussed in the south, what form do the Dragon and the Tiger actually take?

Some bury themselves in the scriptures (Jing), poring over ten thousand volumes year after year. Once they begin to practice, they labor for thirty years until their temples are streaked with white, and still they do not recognize "True Lead" (zhen qian; a Neidan term for the key medicine, or original substance, used in refining the elixir).

Hundreds of millions of people seek it and cannot find it; from antiquity to the present, this matter has been profoundly deep and hidden. The cultivation of the south corresponds to the Vermilion Summer (summer), while the regulating methods of the north reveal the scene of White Autumn (autumn).

They strive to refine it with all their hearts, yet do not know how to refine; they devote themselves to cultivation, yet do not know what to cultivate. They have traveled nearly to the ends of the earth in search of it without meeting it, and before any awakening comes, their hair is already white in their own lifetime.

The immortal elixir and the marvelous arts are profound and subtle, and since ancient times very few have truly attained them. What can the shallow-minded perceive? Even those of lofty attainment, after reflection, still harbor doubts.

From non-being (Wu) arises being (You), and its wonder is unfathomable; from being a return to non-being, which even the sages may not fully understand. Do not blame the immortal scriptures for being so often obscure; they only fear that, in transmission, the secrets of Heaven would be revealed.

The realm of the Returned Elixir (huan dan; in Daoist Neidan, the practice or result of returning to the origin and refining the elixir) is vast and profound, truly impossible to exhaust. Without the proper affinity, one may not meet it even in a thousand lifetimes. Once obtained, it should be hidden and guarded, and not prized the way ordinary gold and jade are.

Once the refining is complete, swallows and sparrows can be transformed into phoenixes; once awakened, snakes and fish can be transformed into dragons. Such marvelous effects are hard to put into words, so how could they be casually told to the ignorant?

Know that perfecting the work is not easy; it is truly a matter of a thousand difficulties and ten thousand hardships. People of the world pursue only minor arts of nourishing life, so who is willing to study the Great Returned Elixir (da huan dan; in Neidan, a higher-level method of the Returned Elixir)?

Mention gold and silver, and everyone is delighted; hear of lead and mercury (qian gong; terms commonly used in alchemy, also referring to the Yin-Yang medicines in Neidan cultivation), and it sounds like idle dreaming. Those who miss their chance in this way number in the millions, and before reaching fifty, their temples are already gray.

After realizing True Lead, one is instead struck with astonishment; living in the dusty world, one worries that one must still wait for the guidance of the divine. If one's merit and practice are not yet complete, and one's roots and powers of insight are shallow, then amid worldly obscurity one frets over the slightness of one's own endowment.

From now on, I intend to treasure Water and Earth (shui tu; a Neidan term for the related Yin-Yang medicines or foundation in cultivation) and no longer cling to gold, jade, and pearls. When the Qian-Kun Cauldron (Qian-Kun ding; a symbolic furnace-vessel in Neidan) has completed its refining and the term is fulfilled, I will shoulder the elixir gourd and set out for Chicheng.

People often speak of immortal elixirs in the world, yet though many seek them, very few truly attain them. Most know only how to refine the "four yellows" and work the "eight minerals," without understanding what the Dragon and Tiger actually signify in the art of alchemy.

Some simply read the scriptures (Jing) over and over, poring through ten thousand volumes year after year. After thirty years of such diligent study, their temples have turned gray, yet they still do not recognize the true "True Lead." "True Lead" is a term of Internal Alchemy (Neidan), and does not refer to ordinary lead; it denotes the key medicine, or fundamental element, required for refining the elixir.

Those who seek the immortal elixir are beyond counting, yet from ancient times to the present this matter has remained profound and hard to fathom. The South corresponds to the vermilion summer, and the North to the white autumn; such statements of direction and season are commonly used to express the transformations of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) in the alchemical process.

Even those who resolve to labor diligently may not know how to refine, and even those who devote themselves wholeheartedly may not understand what exactly they should cultivate. Some search in every direction, travel to the ends of the earth, and grow old and white-haired without ever meeting a true transmission.

The immortal elixir and the marvelous art of alchemy are exceedingly profound and strange, and few have truly attained them since antiquity. Those of shallow understanding can hardly grasp their subtleties; even accomplished practitioners, after careful reflection, are still left with doubts.

From "non-being" arises "being," and its marvel is difficult to fathom; returning from "being" to "non-being," even the sages may not be able to explain it fully. Therefore, do not blame the immortal scriptures for being so often obscure and hard to understand; the transmission is kept secret out of fear of divulging the heavenly mysteries.

The Returned Elixir (a Daoist alchemical term referring to an elixir that has been refined, or to the internal elixir) is vast and profound, truly impossible to exhaust. Without the proper affinity, one may not encounter it even through many lifetimes. Once obtained, it must be hidden and guarded, and not regarded as ordinary gold or jade.

Once it is perfected, even a swallow or sparrow can become a phoenix; once it is understood, even a snake or fish can transform into a dragon. This is a metaphor for the extraordinary changes that the alchemical method brings about; its marvels are too many to describe, so how could it be casually spoken of to those who do not understand?

Know that reaching completion is not easy; it is truly a matter of a thousand difficulties and ten thousand hardships. Most people pursue only petty, shallow arts of nourishing life, and who among them is willing to study a profound method such as the "Great Returned Elixir"?

People rejoice as soon as they hear of gold and silver, yet when they hear of lead and mercury (alchemical terms that refer both to substances used in refining and, often, to symbols of Yin-Yang transformation), it seems as unfamiliar to them as the talk of dreams. This misunderstanding has persisted for countless years, and many people's hair has already turned gray before they even reach fifty.