《周易参同契分章注(陈致虚)》Vol. 2

Once the medicinal substance has been formed, it is as large as a millet grain and is called a “pill.” It is so light that it resembles a trace of powdered medicine lifted with a dao gui, a tiny measuring scoop. This description conveys how minute it is; the wonder within it is difficult to put into words.

This chapter explains in detail how to begin the practice. Yet its subtle and profound intent must be transmitted from teacher to student through spoken instruction and heart-to-heart transmission. Who could accomplish the work through written words alone?

Zhu Xi, whose courtesy name was Wengong, once sought to learn the Great Dao but did not receive instruction from a teacher. He was very fond of reading this book. In a letter to the Vice Minister Yuan while ill in his later years, he wrote that the Cantong qi was not originally intended to explain the Book of Changes. Rather, it borrowed the method of Najia—the method of assigning stems, branches, and the Five Phases to the trigrams and lines—to express the sequence of advancement and retreat in the firing process of cultivation.

Zhu Xi was widely learned, but without a teacher’s guidance he understood this book as a work about Najia. How could he have known that what it truly sets out to clarify is the principle of the Zhouyi, which is why it is called the Zhouyi Cantong qi? Moreover, applying advancement and retreat in the firing process of Neidan cultivation does not require the Najia method.

Zhu Xi also said that he had recently been traveling without any other books, which gave him the chance to study the Cantong qi repeatedly and understand its wording in broad outline. He said that although he had read it many times before, he had always found it dull and set it aside. Only now had he begun to make sense of it, yet he still had not grasped its essential point. Its mysterious language and hidden meaning cannot be understood through thought alone. Zhu Xi repeatedly found it dull and put it down, while blind teachers presume to fathom it through guesswork.

Zhu Xi also said that he had often wanted to learn this Way, but had never received instruction and could find no way to begin. Even sages need a teacher’s guidance. How could even such wise men as Confucius and Mencius have understood it out of nowhere? People today think themselves satisfied and knowledgeable about everything; they speculate at will and practice recklessly. Compared with the worthy people of earlier times, their errors are all the greater. Had Zhu Xi received a teacher’s guidance and fully understood the sages’ principles in the Book of Changes, he would not have insisted on treating this book as a work of divination.

Chapter Fifteen: The Nature and Disposition of Water and Fire

The numerical principles underlying the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) are simple to sum up and not complicated. When water strikes fire, the flame suddenly goes out. The Sun and Moon obscure one another during solar and lunar eclipses, which always occur at the new moon or around the full moon. When water grows strong, Kan, the trigram associated with water and Yin, overwhelms Yang energy; when fire weakens, Li, the trigram associated with fire and Yang, makes even daytime seem dim. Yin and Yang join and nourish one another: this is how nature operates.

“Name” identifies the condition of a thing, while “designation” explains its nature. Only when Metal energy returns to its original state of nature and life can it be called “Returning the Elixir,” a Neidan term for restoring essence and Qi to their source. I dare not invent claims out of thin air; I am only following the writings of the sages. Ancient books used the Dragon and Tiger as titles, and the Yellow Emperor praised Golden Blossom. The Prince of Huainan refined autumn stone, while Perfected Jade Yang added yellow sprouts. These are names and expressions from the cultivation arts of the ancients. The wise can cultivate in accordance with the Dao; those who are unwise should not walk alongside them.

From ancient times to the present, the principle has remained consistent, and people can discuss it together and explain what they seek. Learners should apply themselves with even greater effort, attend carefully, remember, and think deeply. The most important principle has been stated with complete clarity, plain for all to see; I have not been deceived.

The commentary explains that the numbers of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) give rise to the principle that “the three and five return to unity.” In refining the Golden Elixir, lead, mercury, silver, cinnabar, and earth are used to represent the Five Phases and are paired with Yin-Yang. Water can extinguish fire, just as Yin can dissolve Yang. Eclipses of the sun and moon occur at the new or full moon, when the positions of the moon and sun cause Yin and Yang to encroach upon one another. When Yin and Yang are in harmony and blend together, a response arises naturally.

Metal and Water belong to “feeling,” while Wood and Fire belong to “nature.” Feeling lies in the northwest, and nature governs the southeast; the southeast is called “I,” and the northwest “the other.” The feeling of Metal and Water comes from outside and restrains Wood and Fire; the nature of Wood and Fire, by contrast, returns inward and congeals into the Golden Elixir. This is the meaning of “Metal comes to return to the beginning of nature.” Only upon reaching this stage can one speak of “returning the Elixir”—restoring the elixir to its original state. These two lines express the core of the Cantong qi. The commentator says he has not invented these ideas out of nothing. The Immortal Elder, Wei Boyang, grasped the true transmission of the sages, obtained an ancient copy of the Jing of the Dragon and Tiger, and, following its method, cultivated the elixir before writing this book to pass on to later generations.

Alchemical practitioners of different eras gave the elixir different names. The elixir obtained by the Yellow Emperor was called “Golden Flower”; that obtained by the Prince of Huainan, “Autumn Stone”; and that obtained by Yuyang, “Yellow Sprout.” When the elixir was complete and its adept ascended, each had a different title, but all referred to the returned elixir and to the primordial Qi—the original Qi before Heaven and Earth had differentiated—and were all things of the same kind. Later readers heard “Golden Flower” and guessed it meant the five metals; they heard “Yellow Sprout” and guessed it meant eight kinds of minerals; they heard “Autumn Stone” and guessed it meant human excrement. In truth, the ancient sages named things according to circumstance. The elixir they refined followed no path outside Yin-Yang. From ancient times to the present, there has been only one Dao. Cultivation must make use of things belonging to the same category as the Dao for its methods to work. Thus the principles of past and present are the same, and there is no other art besides this. Later readers should reflect carefully and seek guidance from a true teacher. They will then understand that this book has already made the principles clear and has not deceived the world.

Shangyangzi says that the Cantong qi is divided into three sections, each with its own order of substance and function; its effects and subtle principles are extraordinary. “Can” means taking the substance of Heaven and Earth’s transformation as a point of reference; “tong” means using the function by which things of the same kind generate the myriad beings; “qi” means joining with the generative work of transformation. The upper section discusses the beginning and end of elixir refinement, the middle section sets out its detailed essentials, and the lower section supplies omitted images and correspondences. The upper section reflects and accords in meaning with the Upper Scripture of the Dragon and Tiger. Some suspect that later readers compiled the Jing of the Dragon and Tiger from the upper section of the Cantong qi. But “Upper Scripture” may simply mean the first section, so this alone cannot prove that it must also have separate middle and lower sections. The book also contains an ancient inscription mentioning the Dragon and Tiger, which gives grounds for calling it an ancient text.

The preface by the Perfected Peng Xiao says that the Immortal Elder received his master’s transmission from an unknown source. He later came upon an ancient copy of the Jing of the Dragon and Tiger, grasped its subtle meaning, and then composed the three sections of the Cantong qi on the basis of the Book of Changes. Because the material was not yet complete, he added another section to expound the profound meaning of the alchemical scriptures. It is said that the Immortal Elder first received the teachings of the Perfected Yin Changsheng, then became a disciple of Xu Congshi, and thereby learned the hidden methods. Another account says that after completing the book, he secretly passed it to Xu Congshi in Qingzhou, who wrote a commentary under an assumed name. These accounts all indicate that the book’s transmission had a genuine lineage.

The commentator believes that more than a hundred commentaries on the Cantong qi have appeared over the years. The versions by Peng Xiao and Wang Dao are comparatively good, though Peng Xiao’s commentary is still somewhat disordered, while Wang Dao’s explanations lack breadth. On close examination, the language of the Jing of the Dragon and Tiger is archaic and obscure, and less clear and direct than that of the Cantong qi. The principles in the book are deep and hidden. Without a sage teacher’s personal instruction and clear transmission of the methods for beginning practice, who would dare to discuss them lightly? The passage beginning “Metal comes to return to the beginning of nature” goes straight on to say, “I would not dare speak falsely.” This shows that the ancient sages did not set forth their teachings from nothing: without a lineage of transmission, how could they have written this book and made it accord with the workings of transformation?

The commentator regards this book as a classic that practitioners can use as a guide, like a ladder leading upward or a raft for crossing a river. Without it, practitioners in the world might stray into heterodox paths and be misled by those who do not understand the true meaning. To comment on a classic, one must first understand the original text’s intent. One must also have penetrating insight to explain its hidden passages and avoid leaving later readers more confused. The commentator stresses in particular that the Cantong qi describes the orthodox Dao personally transmitted by the Perfected Boyang to the two Perfected Ones, Yin and Xu. Its teachings on the Golden Elixir, the crucible, and related matters are profound, but their key is concentrated in the line “Metal comes to return to the beginning of nature.”

The commentator criticizes Song dynasty Confucian scholars for failing to grasp the principles of the Book of Changes and treating it merely as a book of divination. In doing so, they obscured the original intent of sages such as Fuxi, King Wen, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, and neglected the principles governing the changing, advancing, and reversing movements of Yin-Yang in Heaven and Earth. He believes that unless these essential points are brought to light, the intentions of the four sages will be difficult to pass on, and the principles of the Book of Changes will remain obscure for a long time. In fact, its most important teachings have already been stated plainly; later generations have not been deceived.

Qian and Kun represent firmness and yielding. They work together and contain one another. Yang Qi takes the lead, while Yin Qi receives; the male and female depend on each other. Yin and Yang must support one another to set creation in motion and allow Jing and Qi to unfold and circulate. Kan and Li—the trigrams that symbolize water and fire, and the transformations of Yin and Yang in the Yijing—stand at the forefront, their radiance shining out in every direction.

These subtle, profound transformations are difficult to fathom and cannot be fully represented in diagrams. By examining and tracing them, the sages followed their sequence and investigated the source from which the myriad things arise. Yin and Yang, Kan and Li, and the other two elements merge into one and return directly to emptiness. The sixty hexagrams cycle in sequence, spread out like a carriage that bears and conveys them. A dragon and horse draw the carriage, while a wise ruler grasps the right moment. When things are harmonized and follow their proper course, the road is level and free of error. Take a crooked path, and danger and obstruction follow; the state may even be brought to ruin.

The commentary says that the preceding fourteen chapters explained the sequence and full course of alchemical practice; this chapter goes further into the details, listing them one by one. It describes how to coordinate and apply the Great Elixir of Nine Returns, a method of alchemy. Later students must study it deeply and understand it thoroughly. They must not act carelessly, for the slightest mistake can prevent the Elixir from being formed. Shangyangzi divided the middle section into fifteen chapters because it lists fifteen matters.

This chapter explains Yin-Yang, Jing, and Qi—four elements in all. What is meant by Qian as firm and Kun as yielding? Confucius says in the Appended Statements of the Book of Changes that Qian belongs to Yang and Kun to Yin. When Yin and Yang come together, firmness and yielding each take form. In this way, they embody the pivot of Heaven and Earth’s workings and express the virtue of the spirits. Qian’s virtue is firm, vigorous, centered, and pure; Kun’s is yielding, steady, and true to its course. A noble person follows the principle by which Qian and Kun are matched: this is the Way of the Golden Elixir. The noble person can do this; the petty person does the opposite.

Confucius once said, “I have never seen anyone truly strong.” When someone offered Shen Cheng as an example, Confucius replied, “Shen Cheng has desires; how can he be called strong?” The meaning of strength is profound. A petty person may force a show of toughness for a moment, but how can that person be centered and upright? Without centeredness and uprightness, Jing and Qi cannot be made pure. Firmness belongs to Qian: when it acts, it proceeds directly, so it is easy to understand. Yielding belongs to Kun: when it acts, it unfolds, so it is easy to follow. What is easy to understand draws people close; what is easy to follow makes things easier to accomplish. When people are drawn together and things succeed, growth and continuity follow. This is how sages and worthies establish virtue and achievement. To find one’s place between firmness and yielding is, perhaps, the Way of the Golden Elixir.

Thus, Qian-Yang’s virtue lies in holding fast and giving, while Kun-Yin’s lies in embracing and receiving. Male and female depend on one another through Jing and Qi; Jing and Qi, in turn, need the pairing of male and female to unfold and circulate. The Appended Statements says, “Jing and Qi gather to form the myriad things; wandering souls transform and reveal the changes of the myriad things.” When Jing and Qi are used in accord with nature’s course, they give rise to human beings and the myriad things. When their use is reversed, they can bring about transformation and realization, as in cultivating Buddhahood or attaining immortality.

What does it mean for Kan and Li to stand at the forefront? When Qian’s firmness joins with Kun, Qian’s center becomes empty and turns into Li. When Kun’s yielding receives Qian, its interior becomes solid and turns into Kan. Kan and Li thus follow Qian and Kun, stand before Yin and Yang, and embody the proper forms of firmness and yielding. The sun’s radiance is within Li, and the moon’s brilliance within Kan. Their light shines downward, deep and mysterious, beyond measure and impossible to depict fully. Only a sage can investigate and measure them, compare and clarify them, and explain their foundation. This is the same meaning as the earlier statement that “the subtlety of original Jing is hard to see; one can only infer it from its signs.”

What does it mean for the four to mingle? Yin and Yang, Jing and Qi are enclosed within the aperture of emptiness. They then move through the sixty hexagrams, unfolding into a chariot that bears the myriad things. Kun symbolizes the ox and the chariot; Qian symbolizes the dragon and the horse. When the virtues of Qian and Kun unite, the dragon and horse can draw the chariot onward. This is a metaphor for coordination between those above and below in a state, with an enlightened ruler governing the world in accord with the times. The Golden Elixir restored through liquid gold follows the same principle. The dragon represents eastern Wood mercury, and the horse represents southern cinnabar fire. When the dragon and horse are joined by the western Metal tiger, they generate the water of the northern Dark Warrior. Jing and Qi gather and unite to form the Elixir, just as the dragon and horse draw the chariot.

When the two sides harmonize, they can move forward with the current; when the road is level and straight, they do not stray. This describes both a ruler’s conduct of affairs and the practice of cultivation. An enlightened ruler travels the great Way without burdening the people, and the harmonizing Qi responds in due course. If the ruler leaves the right path, trusts the treacherous, or suppresses the worthy, the state is endangered. After Zhang Jiuling departed and Li Linfu gained power, the seeds of the An Lushan Rebellion began to grow. When Qin Hui held power and Yue Fei was killed, there was no prospect of recovering the lands of Yan and Yun. Upright people devote themselves to the state and fear only that authority will not rest with the ruler; petty people think only of themselves and fear only that power will not be in their hands. Noble and petty people have always existed in the world. The noble should treat the petty with kindness and generosity, and the petty should follow the noble. Then the state will not fall into peril, and the world can be at peace.

Applied to cultivation, this principle means that one must first seek harmony. Once harmony is achieved, things can more readily proceed as intended and produce results. The Book of Changes says, “Harmony and joy bring good fortune because action is free of doubt.” Once things are in harmony, one must set the heart straight, make one’s intentions sincere, and carefully guard one’s thoughts. In this way, one can avoid danger and prevent the work of the Elixir from collapsing and being lost. Even the slightest deviation calls for caution. The next twenty-eight chapters will explain the four elements of Yin and Yang, Jing, and Qi in greater detail.

When a noble person speaks words of goodness in solitude, even those a thousand miles away will respond. This passage refers to a ruler: though dwelling deep within the palace, when issuing commands he should follow the seasonal changes of Yin and Yang.

He should keep ritual instruments in reserve and await the proper moment, following the correspondences between the trigrams and the months. The Tun hexagram corresponds to the Zi and Shen months, and the Meng hexagram to the Yin and Xu months; each of the other sixty hexagrams also has its corresponding days. These are only two examples; there is not space to set out every correspondence.

In establishing laws and imposing punishments, one should uphold benevolence and righteousness and govern through De (Virtue/Power). To go against the seasons and the laws brings danger; to follow them brings good fortune. Government orders should be arranged according to the calendar and carried out with utmost sincerity and care. Dates and times must be watched closely, and the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang carefully discerned. Even the slightest mistake may bring regret and disaster.

If the timing of the winter and summer solstices is thrown into disorder and the seasons become irregular, abnormal conditions may arise: bitter cold and scorching heat, or frost and snow in high summer. The changes in daylight and darkness at the spring and autumn equinoxes may also go awry, with the hours departing from their proper course. Drought and flood may then alternate, winds and rains fall out of balance, locusts devastate the land, and strange omens appear one after another, even bringing mountains crashing down and the earth splitting open.

A filial child who acts with sincerity can move the supreme Dao (the Way). Though his words come from his own mouth, they can travel far and wide. Words and deeds may bring disaster or good fortune; they may usher in peace or provoke war. All such outcomes arise from the intentions in the human heart.

Action and stillness alike should follow established norms and laws. When the four seasons are properly ordered, they can accord with primordial Qi—the fundamental vital energy that governs Heaven and Earth. Firmness and softness each have their bounds and should not intermingle or encroach upon one another. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) each keep their proper place and must not be arbitrarily increased or diminished. Yin and Yang change and circulate in cycles, now yielding, now extending, returning without end.

The commentator says this chapter concerns the strict precautions and constant care required when a practitioner first enters the chamber to refine the elixir. Alchemical work is extremely difficult, so the text draws on the Appended Statements of the Zhouyi to discuss the words and actions of the noble person: when a noble person speaks well from within a room, a response will come even from a thousand miles away—how much more so from those nearby? Words and actions are the noble person’s vital concerns. They affect honor and disgrace and can resonate with Heaven and Earth. For this reason, one should reflect repeatedly before speaking and deliberate carefully before acting.

Shangyangzi says that the Dao is inherently wordless, but how could it be made clear without words? A person of De (Virtue/Power) is especially careful in speaking; how much more so should someone who cultivates the Dao and refines the elixir be? Laozi says, “Those who know do not speak lightly; those who speak readily may not truly know.” Someone who boasts on the strength of a little cleverness does not understand the Dao. A true teacher can see through what is false, while a shallow person will not presume to discuss it casually. Perfected Ziyang says that even with an axe at his neck, he would not dare reveal the teaching carelessly. Yet if someone is truly suited to cultivate the Dao, how could one refuse to explain it to them at all? When entering the chamber to gather the medicine, one must especially avoid careless disclosure. But if nothing is said, how can one tell whether the medicine being gathered is genuine? The Niwang Jing says, “Without communication, it is hard to become companions; if the work has not reached its proper stage, fulfillment cannot be achieved.”

The Immortal Elder quotes the words of the ancient sages and immortals, then explains further: cultivation is like a ruler dwelling deep within the palace and issuing commands; it must follow the rhythms of Yin-Yang. To seek the elixir, one must follow the Yin-Yang seasons and wait for “the return of the first Yang,” when Yin has reached its extreme and Yang begins to emerge. To gather the medicine, one must wait for the moon’s phase to appear and the Zhen trigram to stir—the lunar timing referred to by “on the third day, Geng appears.” The Tun hexagram corresponds to the Rat and Monkey positions, where Water energy is strong; the Meng hexagram corresponds to the Tiger and Dog positions, where Fire energy returns to its storehouse. Each of the sixty hexagrams corresponds to particular days and times; here, only Tun and Meng are given as examples. The Immortal Elder says he has not explained each one in detail because their mysteries must be transmitted orally by a master and are not expressed in ordinary worldly language. Only those who have become Perfected Ones and understand the hidden principles can fully grasp their meaning.

Rules and penalties are established to prevent deceit; the practice of benevolence guides people’s hearts. To go against the rules brings misfortune; to follow them brings good fortune. One must act sincerely, single-mindedly, and discreetly, while carefully observing the proper timing: within the year, one month is crucial; within the month, one day; within the day, one hour; and within the hour, the corresponding signs of the moment must also be observed. One must also carefully discern the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang, especially understanding the purity, turbidity, and proportion of the Water generated by Metal in the Dui trigram. Even the smallest error can bring punishment and damage the alchemical furnace.

If the timing is wrong, it is like a disruption of Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth: the solstices lose their proper measure, midwinter turns to intense heat, frost falls in midsummer, the balance of day and night in spring and autumn is disturbed, and rain and drought come at the wrong times. These anomalies illustrate how a single error in alchemical work can throw everything into disorder. The root cause is that the practitioner has not cultivated the necessary skill. The foolish do not examine themselves, but instead blame the alchemical scriptures. Those with deep foundations and sincere intentions take responsibility, correct their faults, and work with greater focus and diligence, without readily giving up. Sincerity of heart can resonate with Heaven and also draw aid from the immortals, making success possible.

This is like a filial child whose sincerity moves the ruler. The heart is where the spirits dwell; when one’s intentions are true, the spirits naturally respond. Words that come from the heart can also allow people to resonate with one another. Corrupt words and actions bring calamity; accomplishing a task can bring blessings. Mishandling a situation may provoke warfare, while handling it well allows peace to endure. Success and failure, accord and discord, all depend on people’s hearts and actions. If one acts and rests without reckless interference, and follows the proper principles, the energies of the four seasons will respond, hardness and softness will be harmonized, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) will return to their proper order, and the cyclical transformations of the Way of Changes will flow without obstruction.

All these analogies admonish those refining the elixir to remain focused and cautious, and to guard against danger. Achievement in the alchemical Dao depends both on oneself and on the timing provided by Heaven. When the timing is unfavorable, one should seek resonance through sincerity and must not go against the Way of Heaven. Only by following the Way of Heaven can the Golden Elixir be refined.

Finally, the commentator uses the Tongren hexagram to explain unity of purpose and caution. The Appended Statements of the Zhouyi says that the noble person sometimes enters public service and sometimes withdraws, sometimes remains silent and sometimes speaks. When two people are of one heart, their strength can cut metal; words spoken with one heart are as fragrant as orchids. The Tongren hexagram has one Yin line and five Yang lines. The commentator explains this by saying that when Yang lines are more numerous, Yang is dominant; when Yin lines are more numerous, Yin is dominant. In Tongren, the solitary Yin line responds to the many Yang lines, symbolizing unity of purpose. To gain the trust of those who truly share the Dao, one must treat them sincerely, so that their intentions accord. The noble person must therefore be careful, thorough, and tactful, avoiding careless speech while also using words appropriately to communicate. Since the way of refining the elixir is so difficult, how could one fail to act with reverence, follow the proper course, and proceed with caution?

Between the “dark” phase at the end of the lunar month and the “new moon” at its beginning, Yin-Yang Qi (vital energy) alternates and intermingles in a regular rhythm. All things remain in an undivided, primordial state, with the two Qi of Yin and Yang following one another. Bodily fluids moisten, and the Qi of generation and transformation flows freely. The wondrous changes between Heaven and Earth cannot be measured by any standard. One should skillfully use these patterns to settle oneself, draw in the body, store and nourish Jing (essence) and Qi, and follow them with care.

This change begins in the northeast, the direction of the lunar mansions Ji and Dou. The movement of Qi turns to the right, like the moon bringing forth the first glimmer of new light. It is first concealed in the depths, then takes visible form and gives off its refined radiance. When it moves above the mansions Mao and Bi, it is like the arousal symbolized by the Zhen trigram: Yang Qi begins to stir. This is like the first line of the Qian trigram in the Book of Changes, which says, “The hidden dragon: do not act.” Yang Qi has just emerged and is still concealed.

Yang Qi establishes itself through “three,” while Yin Qi opens through “eight.” On the third day, the moon’s form resembles the Zhen trigram; on the eighth, it resembles the Dui trigram. At the stage of the second line, Yang Qi becomes visible, like “the dragon appearing in the field,” harmonious and radiant. The work of the third and fifth stages is completed, and the body of Yang Qi in the Qian trigram takes shape. The third line says, “The noble person is active and vigilant all day, and in the evening remains alert.” This means that one must stay watchful as Yang Qi continues to grow. Then the moon wanes, the signs of Yin and Yang gradually change, flourishing and decline give way to one another, and everything eventually returns to its beginning.

Next, the Xun trigram carries this sequence forward, holding to the turning points in the alternation of Yin and Yang. At the fourth line, the image is “perhaps leaping in the depths”: the situation is delicate, poised between advance and retreat. The Gen trigram governs stopping and moving forward; one must grasp the right moment and not exceed the measure of the cycle. Around the twenty-third day, one should wait for the moon to approach its last quarter. The fifth line is like “the flying dragon in the heavens,” occupying Heaven’s position and manifesting auspiciousness. The fifth line of Kun, by contrast, symbolizes Yin receiving Yang, bringing the changes to a close while carrying them through from beginning to end. Kun’s Yin nourishes its many offspring, which continue from generation to generation like the mother of all things.

At the top line, the image is “the overreaching dragon will have cause to regret”: Yang Qi has become excessive, and the virtues of Yin and Yang contend in the open. The Qian trigram’s use of all nine lines, expressed as “the flight of dragons with no leader,” signifies change that turns and returns in accordance with the laws of the Dao (the Way). When the movement of Yang Qi reaches its limit, it rises again once that limit has passed. By examining the state of things and bringing them into accord with their nature, Yin and Yang transform and intermingle. They revolve like the xuanji, an ancient instrument for observing celestial phenomena and a symbol of the motion of the heavens, rising at times and falling at others as they pass through all six lines. Their changes cannot be seen directly. Thus their movement has no fixed position, and this is the fundamental principle of the Book of Changes.

The commentary says: This chapter uses the moon’s changing phases over a month—dark moon, new moon, first quarter, and full moon—as a metaphor for moving through the line positions in sequence during alchemical cultivation and coordinating them with the timing signs, which means following Yin-Yang changes to grasp the right moments for practice. A year has twelve months, and each month the moon passes through phases such as dark moon, new moon, first quarter, and full moon. The moon, or lunar Yin, meets the sun in the heavens; in human cultivation, what is called “lesser Yin” also has twelve corresponding phases. These changes operate in concealment and are difficult to observe directly; they are the constant course of Yin-Yang transformation. Lesser Yin is deep, obscure, and beyond measure. The sages fathomed the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the source before the myriad things had differentiated, and devised timing signs that accord with the seasons of Heaven. Only then could cultivation proceed in sequence, which is why it is called “precelestial.”

Whenever the moon meets the sun in the heavens, the two luminaries join in accord. At that moment, the moon is beneath the sun and the sun above the moon. The moon receives the sun’s essence and light, with its radiance facing the sky, unseen by people on Earth. This is like the union of man and woman: the man is above and the woman below, covered and out of sight. At the dark and new moon, the moon lies beneath the sun, its light not yet appearing; this is precisely comparable to lesser Yin in the human realm.

In the primordial chaos of Taiji, in the undifferentiated expanse before Heaven, the timing signs complete their course. At the geng direction on the third day of the month, faint Yang Qi is about to emerge. Firm Yang and yielding Yin work together, giving rise within themselves to moisture and nourishment. They transform and flow naturally; even Heaven, Earth, and the spirits cannot fathom them.

The Great Dao cannot operate without the endowment of sages and worthies. The “Wenyan” commentary to the Book of Changes says: “Their De accords with Heaven and Earth; their brightness accords with the sun and moon; their sequence accords with the four seasons; their good and ill fortune accords with ghosts and spirits.” The wondrous workings of the Dao-nature Golden Elixir are beyond Heaven and Earth’s measure, and beyond the spirits’ ability to guess. The Golden Elixir is precelestial Qi, the fundamental energy that arose before the things of the postcelestial world. Sages can accord their De with Heaven and Earth, reversing the transformations of creation to bring forth this Qi. They can accord their brightness with the sun and moon, inverting the methods of practice to set this Qi in motion. They can accord their sequence with the four seasons, using this Qi without being bound by cold or heat. They can also secretly accord with the changes of good and ill fortune among ghosts and spirits, bringing their forms and conditions to light. Thus, even Heaven, Earth, and the spirits cannot fathom it; only sages can master it.

“To make use of it, secure the body; hide the form and keep it concealed” speaks of the Kun way, the yielding way symbolized by the Kun trigram. The Kun palace belongs to Earth, and Earth can restrain Kan water. Water nourishes all things yet seems not to contend with them for credit. By turning this principle around, sages can obtain the benefits of water. The Book of Changes says, “Use the six: it is beneficial to be constantly correct.” This refers precisely to Kun’s De.

What does “It begins in the northeast, in the region of Ji and Dou” mean? At each new moon, the moon meets the sun in the direction where Ji and Dou are located. Ji and Dou belong to the Gen direction. The Gen trigram symbolizes Yin gradually encroaching on Yang and is also called the “ghost road.” When the moon reaches this place, it loses its light, hence the phrase “losing its brightness.” This also resembles the way people follow the changes of the Five Phases through birth, aging, illness, and death, and the alternation of cold and heat.

“Bestow and turn to the right” describes the movement of the Way of Heaven: the sun, moon, and stars all travel toward the right. When the moon reaches the Ji and Dou region, it meets the sun in darkness, like a jade disc joined with a jade tablet. After a day or two, the moon continues moving to the right. Only when it reaches the geng direction does it give off a faint light, and the lunar body, still not fully visible, appears with it. Around Bi and Mao, the moon borrows the sun’s light and lets its radiance emerge from below, as if the Yang firmness of Qian were just beginning to arise.

Below the Kun trigram is the Zhen trigram, which represents the moon’s phase on the evening of the third day: one Yang line and two Yin lines. Zhen is Qian’s eldest son. Yang Qi moves at the proper time, hence the saying that Zhen is stirred on the third day. At the first quarter on the eighth day, the moon’s phase corresponds to the Dui trigram: one Yin line and two Yang lines. Dui is Kun’s youngest daughter. She receives Ding Fire, which symbolizes the fire energy within Yin-Yang transformation, and acts on Kun’s behalf, bringing Yin and Yang into balance. The Qi of the spirits then becomes manifest, hence the saying that the Dui trigram moves on the eighth day.

Around the fifteenth day, the moon is full and its light complete. Hence the saying, “When the virtues of three and five are complete, the body of Qian is formed”: Yin-Yang transformation is complete, and the form of the Qian trigram takes shape. In the language of the line images as applied to alchemical cultivation, the cauldron now contains both Metal and Water. The moon’s Yin reflects the sun, as though the lunar body were producing essence and light. The human body symbolizes the moon, and the Golden Elixir forms within it. When the Elixir is nearing completion in the cauldron, the practitioner must remain alert and cautious. When it is full, one must guard against overflow; when it reaches its height, one must beware of decline. Only sages can sustain such caution from beginning to end.

Afterward, the Xun trigram takes up the succession. The practitioner must hold firm and maintain control, slowly circulating the Yin Talisman, the timing signs of Yin’s movement, to envelop Yang Qi. The Gen trigram governs advance and retreat. As the timing signs reach the last quarter, the Elixir gradually congeals. At this point, Heaven’s position adds joy, and the practitioner draws out and replenishes lead and mercury—alchemical terms that respectively symbolize the two substances or forces of Yin and Yang—until the lead is exhausted and the mercury dried. The sixth and fifth positions are taken up by Kun, bringing the process to its close. Once both lead and mercury have been transformed, the Golden Elixir is complete.

Although the changes of a single month serve as a model for the process of cultivation, in practice it takes ten months for the work to take rough shape. The work reaches completion after three years, while its effects deepen over twelve years, depending on the practitioner’s accumulated effort and attainment. Great sages, however, can rearrange Yin and Yang so that feeling and nature unite. They set up another alchemical furnace and refine the Great Elixir of the Nine Cauldrons anew. This is like the celestial pivot beginning again from the Zi position and moving through the twelve lines over the course of a month. From dark moon to new moon, Yang Qi stirs once more in the Fu trigram on the day of the new moon. Hence the saying, “It has no fixed position; this is the ancestral source of change”: transformation has no position that remains fixed, and this is the foundation of the Book of Changes.

“Shuodan” refers to the first day of each month. It symbolizes the movement of the hexagram qi beginning with the Return Hexagram: Yang energy has just begun to stir and flow. Its movement in and out is smooth; though faint, it already shows signs of strength. The Zi month corresponds to the pitch standard Huangzhong. The vitality of all things begins to appear, and a gentle breath spreads through the land, allowing the people to live in peace. The life force beside the furnace gradually unfolds, and the path of light opens with it. The light grows brighter, and the days grow longer.

In the Chou month, corresponding to the pitch standard Dalu, the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang gradually come into balance. Yang energy rises, forming the pattern of the Peace Hexagram, as strength and yielding flourish together. Yin and Yang join; the small recedes and the great advances. In the Yin month, the energies of Yin and Yang gather and move in accord with the season. They then pass gradually through the Great Strength Hexagram and enter the Mao month. The elm’s pods fall, returning to their source; Yin and Yang alternate in their waxing and waning, and day and night now begin to stand equal.

At the time of the Breakthrough Hexagram, Yin energy retreats while Yang rises and presses forward, like wings cleansed and old dust shaken away. The vigorous Yang energy symbolized by the Qian Hexagram is great and bright, spreading across the four directions. In the Si month, Yang energy reaches its peak, and Yin and Yang begin to interweave. The Encounter Hexagram begins here: Yin energy is born, like the first frost appearing beneath one’s feet. The cold spring at the bottom of the well corresponds to the pitch standard Ruibin of the Wu month. Yin energy is now hidden within Yang, and gradually takes the lead.

At the time of the Retreat Hexagram, Yang energy withdraws and lies hidden, as if leaving the world and relinquishing its position, gathering its vital essence. It preserves its De, waits for the right moment, and dwells quietly in the dark. At the time of the Obstruction Hexagram, Yin and Yang are cut off from one another, and even sprouts cannot grow. Yin energy extends while Yang withdraws, its traces gradually disappearing. In observing the measure of Yin and Yang’s waxing and waning, one must also attend to the changes in all things during autumn: nurture the faint, tender beginnings of life, so that what is withered and aged may flourish anew. Tender shoots of plants such as shepherd’s purse and wheat sprout in response to the seasonal qi.

At the time of the Stripping Hexagram, forms peel away and their original shapes dissolve. The qi of change is exhausted, and the subtle Shen energy is lost with it. When the Dao reaches its limit, it returns to the primordial Kun, symbolizing the Earth and the source that bears all things. It follows the patterns of the Earth, receives the timing of Heaven, and brings forth change. In the deep and mysterious, all things are joined through separation and union. Seeds are nurtured according to their proper measure: this is the root of Yin and Yang. Heaven and Earth are vast and elusive, and people cannot know where change first begins.

At first, the pattern is lost; only later does it become the governing principle. No level ground rises without limit, and no high slope descends without end: this is the natural pattern of the Dao. Change alternates, and flourishing and decline follow one another. The cycle ends in Kun and begins again with Return, repeating like a chain. If rulers govern in accord with this pattern of movement, they can endure in safety for a long time.

The commentary says: The previous chapter used the waxing and waning phases of the moon—new moon, first quarter, full moon, and last quarter—to illustrate the process of gathering the ingredients and refining the elixir. This chapter uses the changes across the twelve months of the year to illustrate the stages of cultivation. The elixir’s initial formation symbolizes the Fu hexagram: one Yang line lies hidden beneath five Yin lines. Sages who cultivate this Way can transcend the ordinary world; deluded and wicked people who practice it will lose their lives and damage their bodies.

King Wen said: “Friends arrive; there is no misfortune. Repeatedly follow this Way. After seven days, Yang returns. It is beneficial to set out.” The commentary explains that “friends arrive” means friends come from afar; “there is no misfortune” means that the result is beneficial and harmless; and “repeatedly follow this Way” means applying the principles of the Book of Changes and adopting a method of cultivation that reverses Yin and Yang. “After seven days, Yang returns” refers both to the moon reappearing seven days after it vanishes and to Yang beginning to emerge after seven days of circulation in the human body. “It is beneficial to set out” means that proceeding with the momentum of the moment will prevent mistakes.

The Rhapsody on the Eastern Capital says that the sun and moon meet in the Dragon constellation (pronounced “Dou,” referring to the Tail lunar mansion), signifying that Yang is about to return. Confucius said, “In the Fu hexagram, can one perhaps glimpse the original mind of Heaven and Earth?” People do not understand this original mind of Heaven and Earth. Laozi called it the “Mysterious Female’s Gate,” the wondrous portal of generation and transformation; Yunfang called it the “Gate of Life and Door of Death,” the key to the changes between life and death.

The Book of Changes says: “Thunder within the earth: this is the Fu hexagram.” The ancient kings closed the passes at the winter solstice, allowing no merchants or travelers to pass and making no inspections of the four quarters. Thunder symbolizes the firm, vigorous Yang energy; earth symbolizes the yielding Yin energy. With Yang energy concealed within Yin energy, the time has come to restore the primordial Qi. On this day, the ancient kings cultivated this Way by closing the passes, resting in stillness, and focusing their attention. Here, “merchants and travelers” symbolize distracting affairs, while “do not pass” means setting aside such business and devoting oneself to the Way. The Image Commentary therefore says, “Returning before going far, one cultivates oneself”: return to the right path in time and cultivate your own person. It also says, “Returning alone while on the way, one follows the Way”: turn back alone to the right path while proceeding, and follow the Great Way.

The dawn of the new moon symbolizes the Fu hexagram: Yang energy begins to circulate, and the cultivator becomes single-minded. Fu means that something first lies hidden, then returns to life. When Yang energy first emerges, the movements in and out, within and without, connect freely and cause no harm. Setting up a marker and revealing a faint image of firmness signifies that Qian’s Yang is stirring and rising upright. The Yellow Bell pitch, the first of the twelve ancient musical pitches, corresponds to the month of Jianzi, the eleventh lunar month. “Sign” means both the multitude of living beings and the beginning of sprouting. All things begin to grow through this Yang energy; its gentle warmth spreads, and the people and all things return to their normal state.

Shangyangzi says: “The key to refining the elixir lies here; do not take it lightly. After receiving the oral instructions transmitted by a teacher, those who study the Way must also understand the three passes and three stages—the three phases of cultivation and their signs. First prepare the ritual ground, then gather the ingredients. Once the ingredients have been obtained, the breath flows in and out freely. One then cultivates body and mind so that gentle Qi gradually spreads and a faint warmth permeates them. This is the first stage of the initial pass.

“When the time approaches to take charge of the elixir furnace, follow the instructions to regulate body and mind, guide the intention, and clear the pathways. Do not overdo it or rush ahead. Regulate the breath, remain humble, and keep still. The Great Lü pitch corresponds to the Ox month, when the hours of daylight gradually lengthen. This is the second stage of the middle pass.

“The Tai Cu pitch corresponds to the Tiger month. The cultivator receives Yang energy from above and forms the Tai hexagram. In Tai, earth is above and heaven below: Yin energy rests above, like water moistening downward; Yang energy rests below, like fire shining upward. Yin and Yang communicate with each other. The Wings of the Changes says: ‘The yielding is above and the firm below, and the two energies respond to each other. Stillness and delight, the union of man and woman: thus things flow smoothly, and it is beneficial to remain correct.’ By applying the Five Phases in reverse, one can transform the earth into a treasure. First let yielding energy act, allowing the other to occupy the leading position; then let firm energy act, taking the subordinate position oneself. Yang energy withdraws first, and Yin energy then flourishes. When Metal energy is matched with itself, Yang can return and restore Qian to its complete form. This describes firmness and yielding operating together, and Yin and Yang joining: the third stage of the lower pass.

“Next comes the Great Strength hexagram, and the Returning Elixir takes shape. In the Rabbit month, the vitality of plants and trees is like elm seeds falling to the ground and returning to their roots; punishment and virtue stand opposed, and day and night begin to become equal. These are signs that the elixir is about to form. The elixir’s Qi settles in the Yellow Court, the central region of the body used in cultivation, and must be guarded and nourished with careful, undivided attention.

“The Guai hexagram signifies the cutting away of Yin energy. Once Yang has returned, the Golden Elixir is like a pregnancy. Qian is firm, vigorous, and bright; the Metal energy has become pure, and Yang runs its course to the Snake month, reaching its peak. Then the Yin Talisman phase begins—the phase of Yin energy’s waxing and waning—and the Gou hexagram follows, with Yin energy suddenly concealed within. Yang energy is not lost; Yang returns and gains Yin, and Yin then takes the leading position.

“The changes represented by Kun begin to appear. The first six line signifies stepping on frost beneath one’s feet; a cold spring wells up from the bottom of a well, and Yin energy descends. The sixth lunar month is represented by the Dun hexagram. The cultivator draws in Jing and Qi, waiting for the right moment. In the seventh month comes the Pi hexagram: Yin and Yang no longer communicate; Yin extends while Yang withdraws, though Yang remains bright within. The eighth month is represented by the Guan hexagram. One observes the changes of autumn and nurtures a faint spark of life, like newly sprouted wheat; what was withered and old flourishes again, like fresh shoots growing in pickled vegetables. When the energy of generation and transformation is exhausted, the Bo hexagram brings the body’s form to decline. When things reach their limit, they turn back and return to the source of Kun. Yin and Yang come and go, always following the Way of Heaven.

“The arrangement of this book follows a careful pattern. Some passages outline their subject at the beginning; others summarize it at the end. If a passage has no opening outline, its conclusion provides a summary; if it has no concluding summary, its opening guides the reader. This chapter has no opening outline, so its conclusion serves as the summary. The opening proceeds in order: the dawn of the new moon is Fu, followed by Lin, Tai, Great Strength, Guai, and Qian. After Qian come Gou, Dun, Pi, Guan, and Bo, ending with Kun. The conclusion says: ‘The origin is dark, distant, and subtle; though separated, the forces connect.’

“These two phrases offer a concise summary. ‘The origin is dark, distant, and subtle’ means that Yin and Yang, the two substances, are mysterious and far-reaching, difficult to grasp or understand, yet their power of transformation is immense. ‘Though separated, the forces connect’ means that Yin and Yang are separated from one another as if thousands of miles apart. But if the Yellow Biddy—a symbol of the force that harmonizes and unites Yin and Yang—mediates between them, they can become close despite the great distance. The two substances respond to each other according to a definite pattern, bringing forth a seed and becoming the basis of Yin-Yang transformation. Sages use them to practice the Way, setting Yin and Yang to join and putting their unfathomable transformations to work. This is the practice of reversing the ordinary course of things.

“‘If it goes first, the yielding loses its way; if it follows, it becomes the ruler’ draws on the meaning of the Ten Wings: if the yielding Yin force acts first, it will lose the right path; if it follows and acts afterward, it can preserve what is constant and remain correct. The Immortal quotes this passage to explain the point. The text says, ‘Yin is the host,’ and at the end says, ‘If it follows, it becomes the ruler.’ Both express the yielding and correctness of the Kun hexagram, which is the Way of Earth.

“No level place remains level forever; the land naturally rises and falls. When water is still, it gathers into a deep pool. When a current meets an obstruction on the bank, the pool fills and then naturally overflows. Using water to illustrate the Way explains the principle of natural change. Changes of flourishing and decline still unfold from Fu to Qian; waxing and waning bring one another about, cycling from Gou to Kun. Thus Kun is the end, and Fu begins again, like a ring turning without end.

“If an emperor masters the principles of Qian and Kun, and of the changes and reversals of Yin and Yang, he can endure in the world for a very long time; even a thousand years would not be many. If his merit and virtue are profound and his cultivation outstanding, ascending to Heaven in broad daylight is only to be expected. According to legend, the Yellow Emperor first lived as a commoner in one lifetime, cultivating worldly merit and blessings. In his second lifetime he served as a minister and cultivated transcendent merit. After becoming ruler in his third lifetime, he gave up the affairs of state, left the world behind, and went to a secluded place among mountains and waters, where he refined the Nine-Cycle Returning Elixir at Jun Mountain in Ding Lake. Once the elixir was complete, he rode a dragon up to Heaven in broad daylight. Jun Mountain is an island in Lake Dongting, said to have received its name because the Yellow Emperor refined the elixir there.

To cultivate the mind and nature, extend life, and delay aging, one must carefully consider the order in which things arise and seek out their root. The body that a person receives at birth originally comes from the formless. Original Jing (the essential vital energy at the root of life) spreads like clouds and begins to take shape by relying on Original Qi (the primordial vital energy). Yin and Yang each follow their own patterns, and the hun and po souls dwell in the body accordingly: the Yang spirit is called the Sun Hun, and the Yin spirit the Moon Po. The hun and po depend on each other, each serving as the other’s dwelling place.

Nature governs the inside of the body, as if establishing its inner boundaries; emotion governs the outside, as if building walls and ramparts. Only when both inside and outside are settled can body and mind be at ease. At this stage, emotion accords with the Yin and Yang of Heaven and Earth: Qian symbolizes Yang, which stirs and is firm, spreading Qi and setting vital energy in motion; Kun symbolizes Yin, which is still and contracting, becoming the dwelling place of the Dao’s workings. After firm Yang has acted, it withdraws, and yielding Yin follows to nourish. “Nine returns and seven reversals” and “eight return and six abide” are terms used in cultivation to describe the changing and returning of Yin-Yang vital energies. Men belong to white and women to red; Metal and Fire restrain one another. Water steadies Fire, and from this begins the circulation and transformation of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water).

The highest good is like water, clear and without blemish. The form of the Great Dao is difficult to depict, and the True One (the pure, undivided root of the Dao) is especially hard to describe. The Dao transforms and spreads, taking on distinct forms in different places. It is like an egg, where white and black are joined, measuring about an inch in length and breadth, and serving as the beginning of life. The limbs, five organs, sinews, and bones gradually take shape from it. After ten months, life emerges from the womb. At this point, the bones are soft and can bend, and the flesh is smooth and pliable, yet dense and substantial like lead.

This chapter teaches that a person should cultivate nature first and then refine life. The commentator holds that nature belongs to Yang Heaven. By nurturing it, Yang Heaven is kept whole; essence and Qi can then be held within and nourished from without, making it possible to refine the Elixir and attain sagehood.

People often do not understand what nature and life are. Some take nature to be clear awareness; others think it is the heart within the physical body, or identify it with thought and consciousness. Still others call an indescribable, intangible, or empty state “nature.” The commentator considers all these to be conjectures. Nature and life each have their own meaning: nature is subtle and difficult to perceive, while life is the source of ceaseless transformation.

The commentator cites the Yellow Emperor, Confucius, Mencius, the Commentary on the Changes, and the Doctrine of the Mean to show that the sages’ way does not separate nature from life. Confucius said that only by pursuing the principles of things and fully realizing one’s nature can one come to understand Heaven’s mandate. Mencius said that preserving the heart-mind and nurturing one’s nature is a way of awaiting Heaven’s mandate; cultivating oneself while awaiting it is how one establishes one’s life. The commentator draws this lesson: to establish life, one must first nurture nature. Without understanding nature, there is no way to understand life.

Lü Dongbin used Elixir refinement to explain the nurturing of nature, while Zhang Daoling and Xu Xun used it as a metaphor for establishing life. The commentator interprets “single-minded sincerity and steadfast adherence to the center” as nurturing nature, and the union of male and female and the generation of all things from essence and Qi as establishing life. He also treats the accumulation of essence and Qi as nurturing nature, and the union of Wu and Ji as establishing life. The language of Elixir refinement describes inner cultivation while also using images of Yin-Yang, the Five Phases, and the alchemical furnace to explain how essence and Qi work together and coalesce.

Some people argue that since all people must die, long life is impossible. The commentator says one should first ask where life comes from. If people are born from the Yin-Yang Qi of their parents, then Yin-Yang Qi should also be able to sustain life and even enable one to become an immortal or a Buddha. Refining the Great Elixir and receiving essence and Qi at birth share the same underlying principle: one follows the course of Yin and Yang to produce a human being, while the other reverses their course to form the Elixir. Confucius said, “If you do not understand life, how can you understand death?” The commentator invokes this saying to show that understanding nature, life, death, and birth makes it possible to grasp the forward and reverse movements of Yin and Yang.

Next, the commentator uses terms from the Changes to explain the relationship between the hun and po souls and Yin-Yang. The Li trigram symbolizes the sun and the hun; the Kan trigram symbolizes the moon and the po. The hun and po depend on Yin and Yang, while Yin and Yang in turn take the hun and po as their dwelling places. Wu Earth and Ji Earth correspond respectively to the po and hun. The hun and po become one another’s dwelling places, enabling Yin and Yang to interact. Nature draws essence inward and establishes the foundation for Elixir refinement; emotion makes Qi lie hidden outwardly, like walls and ramparts being built. When the nature of Qian stirs, strong and upright, essence and Qi unite. When the emotion of Kun is still, yielding, and withdrawn, it becomes a place for cultivation. After the firm aspect has acted, it retreats and keeps to its place; the yielding aspect spreads out and nourishes. In this way, the Elixir forms in the cauldron and is refined to completion.

“Returning nine,” “reverting seven,” “converging eight,” and “dwelling six” use Five Phases terms such as gold, silver, cinnabar, mercury, and lead to describe Yin-Yang and essence and Qi returning to the Elixir cauldron and coalescing. “Returning nine” describes the Qi of gold and silver joining and returning to the cauldron. “Reverting seven” describes the hun and po drawn to one another, as the essence of cinnabar and fire returns to illuminate the cauldron. “Converging eight” describes Wu and Ji uniting, as the true essence of wood and mercury enters the cauldron. “Dwelling six” describes nature and emotion responding to one another, as the subtlety of lead and mercury returns to dwell in the cauldron. These are symbolic expressions from Neidan, or internal alchemy.

“Male white, female red; metal and water bind together” is also a metaphor for the joining of Yin and Yang. The male belongs to the Wood of the Azure Dragon, and the female to the Metal of the White Tiger; through refinement by the essence of Li Fire, they turn red. “Water stabilizes fire” means that the practitioner must first prepare the altar and gather the ingredients, then regulate and refine essence and Qi according to the amount of water and fire and the maturity of the firing times.

“Highest goodness is like water” is explained here to mean that water contains metal and can generate metal Qi. Only by taking its clarity and stillness, free from mixture or disturbance, can one transform it into the Elixir. Male and female are the forms of the Dao; Qian and Kun are its symbols. True, unified Qi can arise within forms and images, but the Dao cannot be fully depicted through outward forms alone. Jia and Yi belong to the East, and Geng and Xin to the West; each has its proper place, hence the saying that they dwell apart.

When the Reverted Elixir is complete, its shape resembles an egg, with black and white joined to symbolize the union of Yin and Yang. At first, the Elixir is tiny, like a grain of millet; it then gradually grows to an inch. The commentator says that when Elixir Qi is abundant, it warms the limbs and nourishes the five organs, leaving the sinews and bones relaxed and at ease. When the ten-month period of cultivation is complete and the Elixir has taken shape, it sheds its womb and is called the “Yang Spirit.” The Yang Spirit is formed by the condensation of pre-heavenly Qi, so its bones are soft and its flesh smooth. It differs from the physical body, which is formed from post-heavenly essence and blood. The commentator concludes that this account echoes the discussion of “nurturing the self” in the book’s sixth chapter.

A solar lighter—a bronze mirror used in antiquity to kindle fire—can produce fire and light only with the aid of the sun. A moon-catching vessel, an implement once used to collect water, could not condense water without the light of the stars and moon. Though the two Qi of Yin and Yang are subtle and profound, they can still respond to one another and transform into each other. How much more so when they are present within us, so close at hand: the key lies in the heart. The joining of Yin and Yang may be compared to the sun and moon; the effects of water and fire are evidence of this union.

The commentary explains: The solar lighter belongs to Yang and contains Qi, so it can respond to the sun and produce fire. The moon-catching vessel belongs to Yin and contains Jing, so it can respond to the moon and produce water. The sun and moon hang high in the distant sky, while the solar lighter and moon-catching vessel are tiny, yet they can still respond to and communicate with one another. How much more so within the human body, where true Yin and true Yang lie close at hand in the heart, intimate and easy to reach. How could they fail to communicate and bring about transformation? It is only that people in later ages do not understand the method.

The Yin and Yang within the human body may be compared to the sun and moon in the heavens. The water and fire manifested by the solar lighter and moon-catching vessel serve as metaphors for the body’s Jing and Qi. If even lifeless objects can respond to one another, then people, endowed with consciousness and spirit, can naturally interact even more fully. Among all things between Heaven and Earth, humans are the most finely endowed. Even those of low standing and limited understanding know the principle by which Yin and Yang generate and transform life: without being taught, they follow it to reproduce and thrive. Ordinary people know only how to follow the principle of Yin and Yang to nurture and produce the myriad things. To use Yin and Yang in reverse, however, is difficult to understand without a teacher’s transmission. The reverse use of Yin and Yang described here means refining Jing and subduing Qi to form the Neidan (internal alchemy).

This chapter focuses on how the two Qi of Yin and Yang can respond to and permeate one another, thereby bringing about generation and transformation.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Three Treasures at the Core

The eyes, ears, and mouth are three vital gateways of the human body. In cultivation, they should be restrained so that the senses do not scatter outward. The True Person (one who has attained the Dao) settles deep within, rests and moves with ease, and upholds the proper measure. By drawing in sight and hearing, one ensures that opening and closing, advancing and retreating all accord with the proper order. In this way, the pivot of body and mind can turn, and neither movement nor stillness will be depleted.

The Qi of Li (symbolizing the heart’s Fire) moves within to protect and sustain; Kan (symbolizing the kidneys’ Water) does not listen outward with keen ears. Dui (symbolizing the mouth) does not speak carelessly, but speaks little, in keeping with a simple, natural state. Once these three gateways have been gathered inward, relax the body and settle in a quiet room. Return the mind to emptiness and stillness, making freedom from thought the usual state. When faced with difficulties, do not let the mind waver; focus without distraction. Even in sleep and dreams, let the spirit remain joined with body and mind, and upon waking, pay attention to their changes.

The complexion will gradually grow lustrous, and the joints and bones will become firmer and stronger. Once the various Yin influences have been dispelled, the vital Yang Qi can take hold. Continue cultivating in this way, and the flow of Qi will move like clouds and rain: unbroken, like spring rain nourishing the earth, or water flowing after ice and snow melt. It runs from the head to the feet, then rises again; circulating back and forth, it extends without limit and fills the whole body.

Repeated turning back is a sign of the Dao’s movement; gentleness and weakness are the foundation of De. Cultivation is like farming: clear away accumulated impurities so that even the finest details gradually become balanced and unobstructed. Clarity can emerge from turbidity and stagnation, and after a long darkness, brightness can return.

The commentary says: This chapter explains in detail the essentials of entering the chamber to refine the Elixir. After receiving the master’s oral instructions, students should recite them repeatedly and carefully reflect on every sentence and every word.

The commentary says that this chapter explains in detail the essentials of entering the practice chamber to cultivate the Elixir. After receiving the oral instructions from a master, students should recite this chapter repeatedly and carefully reflect on every sentence and every word, rather than rushing through it. For it discusses the most crucial and refined teachings in the Cantong qi. Some of its principles cannot be revealed through words alone; they are secrets preserved by Heaven.

When people are first born, their original nature is good. But as they grow up, few escape the influence of bad companions unless they are exceptionally gifted and steadfast in guarding themselves. The allure of sights and sounds from the outside world, along with inner cravings and desires, can all lead people astray. The senses—eyes, ears, mouth, and the rest—readily become attached to external things, while daily activities often wear down both body and mind. The ears, eyes, and mouth are especially harmful: the ears listen to sounds, the eyes look upon forms, and the tongue craves flavors. Thus good fortune is diminished by indulgence in sensual desire, troubles follow in the wake of sights and sounds, and illness often enters through food and drink. People pass their days in a daze, intoxicated without knowing it, repeating the cycle without end.

Many who study the Dao fail to attain it because their ears, eyes, and mouth are drawn by the outside world and by their companions, and they gradually lose their original nature. The Immortal Master calls the ears, eyes, and mouth the “Three Treasures” to teach people to cherish them and not let the senses chase after external things. Therefore, when entering the practice chamber, one must gather in the senses and calm the mind and spirit. Only when all six roots—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—have settled can one gather the medicine and refine the Elixir.

“True Person” here refers to Ji Earth. “Submerge in the deep abyss” means using Ji Earth to regulate Kan Water in order to obtain the Elixir. In “float and roam, guarding the center of the compass,” the “center of the compass” refers to the center of the workings of creation and transformation. The Great Elixir is refined at this crucial moment, like a marker in a talisman, and one must be especially cautious and discreet. “Float and roam” means remaining still at all times while also responding to things, without departing from the present moment. “Guard” means diligently turning one’s attention inward and waiting with full concentration. The author says these two lines contain the most refined teachings in the Cantong qi. They are as difficult to penetrate as a hard object split open with a mighty axe. The mysterious words spoken by true immortals and sages have been difficult to fathom through the ages. Shangyangzi explains them here in the hope that everyone will understand and practice accordingly.

“Turn inward to see and hear” does not mean shutting off the senses in a blank stupor. It means drawing sight and hearing inward and sensing with subtlety and care, so that the opening and closing transformations of Wu Earth become clear and can join with Ji Earth. Ji Earth is prone to restless, uncontrolled movement, and must be regulated through Wu Earth as its pivot. “Movement and stillness are never exhausted” refers to the function of Ji Earth: in movement it is firm and upright; in stillness it is focused. If used well, its function will not be depleted.

“Let Li Qi receive the nutritive and defensive Qi” means turning the gaze inward. “Kan does not use its acuity” means that the ears do not listen outwardly, but turn to inner listening. “Dui joins without speaking” means reducing speech and responding to the natural process of transformation through stillness and regulated breathing. Only after these three points have been regulated can the body relax and cultivation take place in a quiet, empty chamber. “Relax the body” means to be at ease and free from strain; an “empty chamber” is orderly and quiet, undisturbed by distractions.

“Let the will return to emptiness and nothingness” means placing the mind and will in a state of quiet emptiness and Wuwei (non-action). Daoism holds that Qi (vital energy) arises from emptiness and nothingness; the Primordial Qi, the fundamental Qi that precedes the activities of the acquired body and mind, also comes from this emptiness. To obtain this Qi, one must gather in one’s thoughts and seek it with full attention.

“Make thoughtlessness the constant state” is especially important. The True Person, submerged in the deep abyss, must respond through thoughtlessness; floating and roaming while guarding the center of the compass requires waiting without thought; the mutual nurturing of the breath requires thoughtlessness to bring it about; and when the three qualities converge, thoughtlessness is needed to unite them. Responding, waiting, bringing about, and uniting are all arts developed through long practice. That is why thoughtlessness must be made one’s constant state.

“Do not let the proof be moved or shifted” means that Wu Earth, also called the White Tiger, is changeable and difficult to stabilize. When it is joined with Ji Earth, it must not be allowed to shift or sway at will, and the mind must not scatter, lest something abnormal arise. Earlier the text says to be without thought, while here it says the mind must be focused and not move recklessly. This calls for careful understanding: thoughtlessness does not mean dullness or blankness, but rather that the mind is not pulled along by stray thoughts and remains focused in its practice.

“When asleep, spirit and Qi embrace one another” means that when the mind is not scattered or acting recklessly, spirit and Qi will naturally embrace and unite even during sleep. Practitioners must still remain aware and observe whether the Primordial Qi continues to abide within them. Only after reaching this stage will they personally know the signs of its efficacy. The commentator says that when he first heard his master explain this passage, he found it very difficult. Later, after cultivating this practice on the northern slope of Mount Daluo, he found it somewhat easier. The key to cultivation is to continue without interruption; only then can the whole practice be completed.

The Immortal Master next explains the timing for gathering the medicine and refining it by fire, stressing that not the slightest error is permissible. From “the complexion gradually grows lustrous” onward, every sentence concerns cultivation and is no idle writing. These descriptions are signs that naturally appear after the Elixir has been obtained. Those who cultivate the Dao live amid the disorder and pollution of the world, yet practice a method that leads beyond the world. If they persevere without stopping, they will surely achieve something in time. They should not give up halfway because of a small demonic obstacle. “The path from turbidity to clarity” means turning from confusion and murkiness toward clarity: after darkness has lasted long enough, light will at last appear. Attaining the sage’s realm and completing the Immortal path may then be expected in the near future. Because its efficacy is believed to be wondrous and swift, it is called the Divine Elixir.

People delight in pursuing all kinds of minor arts, yet do not understand how profound the Great Dao is. Those of narrow capacity find it difficult to hear the Great Dao. Vast and all-encompassing, it embraces Heaven and Earth; profound and boundless, it is like the sea. If one is misled from the outset and lets first impressions take hold, it becomes difficult to encounter the true path.

Those who follow heterodox ways are devoted to cai zhan, the practice of gathering and replenishing vital essence through sexual intercourse. They abandon the true path and stray into error. Others take medicines in pursuit of ascension, hoping for quick results, but instead block their way to spiritual attainment. To exhaust one’s Jing and Qi without knowing how to nourish one’s nature is like a blind person trying to walk without a cane; seeking the Dao by talking about its principles is like a deaf person trying to listen to music. Diving underwater to catch pheasants and rabbits, climbing mountains to search for fish and dragons, sowing wheat while hoping to harvest millet, or using a compass to draw a square: all are cases in which the means do not fit the goal.

Such futile exertion only drains one’s energy. Without meeting a teacher who understands the principles, one may work for a whole year without seeing results. If you wish to understand the fushi method, a practice of subduing and refining Qi and taking substances in Daoist internal cultivation, the ancient immortals explained it simply: “Subduing Qi is not merely taking in Qi; to take in Qi, one must first subdue Qi. Taking in Qi alone cannot bring long life; to attain long life, one must subdue Qi.” These words are a subtle formula passed down to accomplished practitioners of the Dao.

The flowing pearl, formed from the Sun’s essence, often seeks to leave the human body. When the Golden Flower—the refined liquid essence of the alchemical path—finally comes into being, the two turn instead to depend on one another. They transform into a white liquid that congeals until it becomes hard. The Golden Flower first takes effect, then dissolves into water in an instant. A splendid, lustrous substance like horse teeth appears, and Yang Qi then arrives to harmonize with it. The natures of Yin and Yang naturally come together.

When time is pressing, Yin Qi is restrained and gathered within the gate. The loving mother nurtures; the dutiful child repays her kindness. The stern father gives commands, teaching and admonishing his descendants. These images describe how the different elements of cultivation restrain, support, and pass on their work to one another. The Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—take their turns and interact, restraining and engendering one another: Fire can melt Metal, and Metal can cut down trees, depriving Wood of its power to grow.

Five and three unite and return to one: this is the most subtle essence between Heaven and Earth. These teachings can be passed on through oral formulas, but are difficult to set down in writing. The Zi position in the north must turn to the right, while the Wu position in the south revolves eastward. The Mao and You positions, in the east and west, mark the boundaries and establish the positions of host and guest.

The Dragon calls to the Tiger, and the Tiger draws in essence and Qi. They meet and draw upon each other, each coveting the other’s essence. Thus they join, swallow, and chew, until at last they merge. Mars lingers in the west, while Venus stretches across the sky. Wherever the force of destruction reaches, what does not fall? A fox guards the mouse, and sparrows fear the hawk; each has its own role, and neither dares make a sound. These images describe the mutual response and restraint of Yin and Yang in alchemical practice; they should not be understood only in their literal sense.

Without understanding these principles, one should not speak of them casually. Some have squandered their entire family fortune, leaving their wives and children hungry, cold, and destitute. From ancient times to the present, countless people have pursued this Way, yet few have ever found the right conditions, and very few have truly succeeded in cultivation. Searching far and wide for precious medicines misses the Way’s true purpose.

The commentary says: This chapter clearly identifies “flowing pearl” and “golden flower” as two things belonging to Yin and Yang, and further reveals the mysteries of alchemical practice. What the text discloses is already very detailed, but the true oral instructions are difficult to set down in writing. Shangyangzi restates this meaning and offers the following verse:

The sun’s flowing pearl refers to the solar crow within the Li trigram. The maiden of the Li palace is not a woman with a physical form in the world. The sun conceals its radiance and is, in truth, called the Father Qian. Cinnabar contains mercury; mercury is the root of cinnabar.

People in the world may meet through fate and circumstance, yet are led astray by the Six Thieves—the six kinds of sensory desire that disturb mind and body—and so extract the flowing pearl. At times it condenses like dragon’s saliva; at other times it escapes and disperses. Gold belongs to Dui, but lodges in Kan, where its essence emerges. The true water within Kan can subdue the cinnabar within Li. Constrained by gold and water, mercury changes into a white liquid. When refined by fire in accordance with the seasons, gold returns to its original place and first releases its essence.

The true earth is “Ji.” Ji must be abundant in spirit and Qi, and is also called the Earth Spirit. A jade platform appears; a person ascends a high seat and bares both feet, and the golden flower transforms into water. In an instant, its color is like a horse’s teeth, and it resembles stalactite or langgan stone. Qian’s Yang comes as a guest in search of a companion. Yang is nature, and Yin is feeling; the two gently entwine and unite.

Yin is pressed by Yang, while Yang is constrained by Yin. They urge and press upon each other, and Yin Qi is thereby brought under control. The space between the two kidneys is called the Gate of Restraint. Within it are one Yin and one Yang—that is, one Qian and one Kun. The loving mother is called Gold; Gold gives birth to Kan water. Water is the Duke of Gold, also called the filial son. The stern father is called Wood; Wood gives birth to cinnabar and mercury. The son in turn gives birth to the grandson, and the generations succeed one another.

If the mind cannot remain focused, commands must be enforced strictly. The powers of the Five Phases cross and govern one another, restraining and responding to each other. Lead, mercury, cinnabar, and silver all gather in Earth. When Fire is strong, it generates Earth, which is the mother of Metal; yet a strong Fire can also melt Metal. Wood fears the punitive force of Metal, but when Metal is attacked by Fire, Wood can grow and flourish.

The eastern and southern directions together make five: Wood accounts for three, Fire for two. The western and northern directions together make five: Water accounts for one, Metal for four. At the center, Wu and Ji belong to Earth. This is the “three and five.” Count from one to ten thousand, to a trillion, to a myriad myriad—the numbers may be endless, yet they must still accord with the numbers of Heaven and Earth. Strive to attune to the finest Qi. Yin and Yang respond to and unite with each other; the oral instructions must be understood.

At the Zi position, turn to the right, sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly; Yang Metal is born at Zi. At the Wu position, turn eastward; Yin mercury is born at Wu, and it envelops and preserves Yang essence. Mao and You stand in the east and west, representing host and guest. Metal and Wood are far apart, but if they hold benevolence toward one another, Metal submits and Wood rejoices. The dragon calls and the tiger breathes; Metal is drawn to Wood’s benevolence. Host and guest draw near to each other, as though sharing food and drink. The crow and hare, man and woman, tortoise and serpent all symbolize Yin and Yang attracting, joining, and receiving one another.

The deity of the south is the Vermilion Bird, that is, Yinghuo (Mars). It keeps watch over the west and tempers the virtue of Metal. The Dui direction is the place of killing and decline; it must never be thrown into disorder. The Qi that holds the potential for life is called Taibai (the Qi of Venus). Qi moves along the Yellow Path, and the tally of trust returns to the Qian Gate. When the Qi of killing arrives, the Qi of growth spreads in its wake.

This is like a cat catching a mouse or a sparrow fearing a hawk: each fulfills its role and dares not make a sound. Without oral instructions, how could one speak recklessly on the basis of guesswork? Such a person will only squander the family’s wealth, stray into heterodox paths, and even mistake sexual techniques of gathering and exchange for the true Way. To go astray brings grave responsibility and may lead others astray as well. Since ancient times, many have been drawn to this practice, but few have succeeded without meeting a true master.

Without understanding the principles of Yin and Yang, one cannot know what belongs to the same category. Searching everywhere for so-called elixirs only further depletes one’s true Qi. Metals, minerals, and plants are not sentient things of the same kind as the human body; they are far removed from the Dao. Here, the rules are outlined for later students, and the essentials of profound texts are explained, so that people may practice and become perfected immortals.

If one can recognize the pivotal signs accurately, the beginnings of things become clear. By comparing things of the same kind, one can trace the changes of the myriad things from their beginning to their end. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) restrain one another, yet they also transform into father and mother within the process of generation: the mother contains and nourishes the fluid, while the father presides over it and bestows it. When Jing and Qi gather, a body takes shape, and it can endure like metal and stone.

Only by remaining focused and careful, without letting Jing and Qi dissipate, can one reach the state of attaining the Dao. This is like a shadow appearing when a pole is set upright, or an echo answering a call into a mountain valley: each acts upon and responds to the other. Is this not wondrous? It is the supreme principle revealed in the workings of Heaven and Earth.

Suppose someone put an inch of wild kudzu and an ounce of croton seed into their mouth. They would immediately collapse, stiff and unable to bend forward or tilt their head back. At such a time, even if King Wen of Zhou divined with milfoil, Confucius examined the hexagrams, Bian Que applied acupuncture, and Wu Xian beat a drum to pray for deliverance, how could they make the person revive, rise, and run about again?

The commentary says: When someone seeking the Dao meets a teacher, they should first carefully examine his conduct, words, and learning, and distinguish whether he transmits the true Way or false teachings. They can ask him about the contents of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three): a truly enlightened teacher can explain most of the questions raised in the text and will not be at a loss at every turn. A muddled teacher, by contrast, often cannot answer nine out of ten questions. Some make up all kinds of strange claims and lead people astray; some say that silence itself is the Dao; others teach only sitting meditation and contemplation of emptiness. Ask them about alchemical terms such as “cinnabar and mercury” or “tiger and dragon,” the coordination of Metal and Wood, the “Zhen image on the third day,” or methods for reversing the inborn order, and they know nothing of the alchemical classics and cannot answer.

Foolish people in the world hear only that someone has meditated for many years or entered a busy marketplace a few times, and they all declare that he has attained the Dao. How could they know that when Mazu Daoyi was at Mount Heng, Chan Master Huairang mocked him, saying that rubbing a brick could never make a mirror? And how could they know the principles of Yin-Yang interaction and mutual restraint, or the changes of generation and destruction? Some worldly people remember only scattered remarks made by their predecessors. They spend all day discussing Chan and debating, claim that this is the “School of Nature”—a path of cultivation whose aim is to illuminate the mind and see one’s nature—and treat these words as the Dao, using them to deceive the world. This is especially laughable.

How could they understand the true meaning of Chan and nature? “Nature” corresponds to “Use of Nine” in the Qian trigram: its movement is vigorous and direct. To grasp it is to possess the “Treasury of the True Dharma Eye,” the authentic mind-to-mind teaching of the Chan school. “Chan” corresponds to “Use of Six” in the Kun trigram: its movement opens and embraces. To understand it is to possess the “Wondrous Mind of Nirvana,” the subtle way of transcending life and death. When Chan and nature unite, it is like using Earth to control Lead; when Metal and Wood unite, it is like using Lead to subdue Mercury. Practicing benevolence and righteousness means nourishing primordial Qi with an upright heart. Thus the transformations of one Yin and one Yang are the principles of the Yijing (Classic of Changes). “Cultivating stillness in the Li Palace” is the foundation of the Chan school; “seeking the mystery in the Water Palace” is where Neidan (internal alchemy) is cultivated. Though the names divide them into three gates, the principle to which they lead is one.

Observe the beginnings of the methods of cultivation in the three teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—and you will find that all insist on pairing things of the same kind for results to be achieved. This is called “using one kind to compare with another.” “Tracing things from beginning to end” means examining the course of all things from their beginnings to their conclusions, and also investigating the reasons for the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang as human beings are born and the myriad things come into being.

The Five Phases generate and overcome one another, waxing and waning as generations succeed one another and transform into one another as parent and child. Ultimately, the Way practiced by the sages of antiquity is also a matter of Yin-Yang transformation. The “Holy Mother,” formed through changes in the Kun and Dui trigrams, governs the Qi that stores, nurtures, and moistens. The wondrous power that gives life and brings the myriad things into being is the “Numinous Father,” formed through changes in the Qian and Zhen trigrams. Qi and liquid gather to form Jing (essence); they flow and take shape, then condense into an Elixir. The Elixir is firm as metal and stone and does not easily disperse. During cultivation, one must be careful and single-minded so that it does not leak away and success can be attained.

The response between Yin and Yang is like raising a pole a hundred feet high, whereupon its shadow appears; or calling out toward a thousand overlapping valleys, whereupon an echo promptly returns. Yin and Yang naturally respond to each other with striking efficacy, reflecting the fundamental law of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformation. Even poisonous plants such as gelsemium and croton can kill despite having no consciousness. Sages such as King Wen of Zhou, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, renowned physicians such as Bian Que, and worthy figures such as Wu Xian could not cure their poison, even with divination using yarrow stalks, acupuncture, or prayers for healing. How much more so, then, with the true Yin and true Yang Qi used in cultivation: they are things of the same kind, endowed with life, and mutually complement one another. How could they fail to condense into a numinous Elixir?

Wu Xian was a wise physician. Divination with milfoil stalks, acupuncture, prayer, and other methods could not cure this toxic Qi. How much more, then, must true Yin and true Yang Qi, joined with like spiritual substances, condense into a numinous elixir?

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Maiden and the Yellow Sprout

The Maiden in the river, a symbol of the nimble Yin substance within water, is extraordinarily wondrous. When she encounters fire, she rises and vanishes without a trace, like a spirit disappearing or a dragon hiding beneath the waters; no one knows where she has gone. To subdue her, one must take the Yellow Sprout, a term from alchemy symbolizing the Yang substance, as the foundation.

If things do not possess both Yin and Yang, they go against the Dao of Heaven and depart from their original nature. A hen that incubates eggs alone, for instance, will hatch incomplete chicks. Why is this so? Because Yin and Yang have not joined and connected; Three and Five have not united; firmness and softness remain apart.

The subtle power that brings about the transformation of all things arises from the natural workings of Heaven and Earth. Fire rises and water descends without anyone needing to teach them; this is simply their nature. The order that Heaven and Earth bestow upon the myriad things is governed in its own way and cannot be arbitrarily changed.

Observe the union of male and female: firmness and softness join, closely bound and inseparable. As long as the proper measures and laws are followed, there is no need for human artifice to control the process. Men are born with their bodies bent forward, while women are born lying on their backs. They receive the Qi of gestation and inherit the primordial Qi of Heaven and Earth. This posture appears not only at birth but also at death. Their parents do not teach them to be this way; it was already determined at the very beginning, when Yin and Yang joined.

The commentary says that “the River” is a metaphor for the river of love and desire and the sea of passion, while the “Maiden” refers to the yin mercury essence within oneself. Why is she so wondrous and mysterious? Because she can bring a person into being, take a person’s life, and also be used to refine the Elixir.

When the mind and spirit are still and unmoved by external things, the innate nature is nurtured within. Once stirred by an encounter, thoughts become keenly responsive, changing as swiftly as a spirit. When the outer world stirs, desire arises in turn, and one’s blessings may be ruined by attachment to sights and sounds. As soon as a thought appears, mercury chases after the fire energy and scatters, like dust rising and never to be gathered again. Spirits conceal their essence and Qi; the dragon, too, hides its traces, and the clouds disperse across the sky. What is called “emptiness” is also the appearance of forms. This means the same as the line in Chapter Twenty-Four: “The sun’s flowing pearl is always eager to leave a person.” People often rush past this passage, so the author explains it further. Sages often expound their writings in this way, repeating themselves so that later generations may understand.

To subdue the Maiden, one must take “Yellow Sprout” as the foundation. This echoes the earlier phrase, “suddenly obtaining the Golden Flower.” The Maiden moves with the current and is easily lost; only the Yang Qi represented by the Yellow Sprout can subdue her. The Yellow Sprout is pre-heaven Qi, also called “True One Lead.” When this lead Qi is used as the basis for refining the Elixir, mercury no longer races away, because Yin and Yang are paired and can naturally be brought into harmony. If things lacked Yin and Yang, they would violate the principles by which Heaven and Earth create and transform, and depart from the source of the myriad things’ generation. Elixir cultivation cannot establish its foundation apart from Yin and Yang. Only after the Qi of the True One has returned and the Elixir has matured may one transcend Yin and Yang.

Some people in the world who do not understand these matters never read the alchemical scriptures, yet believe that cultivation requires living deep in the mountains, secluding oneself alone, abandoning one’s wife and children, abstaining from food and drink, doing nothing at all, or simply sitting in meditation. To take these things as the Dao is a serious misunderstanding. The error is all the greater when people neither speak of Yin and Yang nor examine the Five Phases, distinguish Metal and Wood, or understand the Dragon and Tiger, Lead and Mercury, and Kan and Li, but imagine that silence alone can bring one to the Dao. This book repeatedly discusses the pairing of Yin and Yang precisely to correct such errors.

For example, a hen that has not mated with a rooster may lay eggs and sit on them, but cannot hatch chicks, because there is Yin without Yang. To hatch chicks from eggs, one must set out water at midday and warm the eggs in the sunlight. With the help of Yang Qi, the chicks can develop; without warmth, they cannot hatch. This is because the creative process of Heaven and Earth also requires Yin and Yang to unite. Until Yin and Yang meet, the Qi of the Five Phases cannot interact, and when firmness and softness remain apart, the ceaseless transformations of life cannot arise.

It is said that in certain lands inhabited only by women, anyone wishing to become pregnant must choose a suitable day and look down into a well three times each day, drawing on the Qi of True Water and taking the image in the well as a stimulus. Only afterward can she conceive. Such accounts all illustrate the principle of Yin and Yang bringing forth transformation, and the natural resonance between Heaven and Earth. Fire naturally rises and water naturally descends; no one teaches them to do so. The myriad things begin to form through the Qi of Qianyuan, and each receives its own fixed nature and life. The Commentary on the Changes says, “Great indeed is Qianyuan! Through it all things begin to arise, and it governs Heaven.” The Dao of Qian transforms, enabling each thing to establish its own nature and life. Once its nature and life are determined, they do not change.

Thus, when male and female creatures mate, firmness and softness join and are hard to separate. So long as their union follows the proper measure, it does not depend on techniques imposed by human effort. When a man and a woman mate, the man lies face down and the woman lies face up. This is a principle of creation and cannot be arbitrarily changed. Even people who drown must have these postures: men face down and women face up. Their parents did not teach them to be so; it was determined from the beginning of their union. To ordinary people, these remarks may seem trivial. But the author wrote this book to make the principles of Yin and Yang thoroughly clear, and so explains them repeatedly and without weariness.

Kan represents the man and the moon; Li represents the woman and the sun. The sun bestows its virtue, while the moon gives off its radiance. The moon receives the sun’s transformations, yet its form is not diminished by them. When Yin and Yang fall out of harmony, Yin Qi encroaches on the sun’s light, bringing about the dark moon, the new moon, and the obscuring of the sun and moon in eclipses. They contend with one another: the form of Yang Qi wanes, while an excess of Yin Qi brings disaster.

When men and women join in harmony, they contain and nurture the Qi of Earth, bringing forth the myriad things. If male and female become mixed and disorderly, they suffer harm. The union of Yin and Yang must follow the patterns proper to each, in harmony like things drawn to their own kind. Metal Qi transforms into water, whose nature is fluid and unsettled; Fire Qi transforms into earth, which keeps water from flowing. The man acts outwardly, while the woman remains still within and holds things in. If the man acts excessively and goes beyond due measure, the woman’s side will restrain him.

The Po (the part of the spirit associated with the body) restrains the Hun (the part associated with mental activity), keeping it from excessive abandon. When Yin and Yang are neither too cold nor too hot, when advance and retreat accord with the proper time, and each is in harmony, they together manifest their corresponding signs.

The commentary says: The Kan trigram symbolizes water, the moon, and the middle son (in ancient times, the son in the middle of the birth order was called the “middle son”); the Li trigram symbolizes fire, the sun, and the middle daughter. Kan is yin on the outside and yang within. It contains Wu Earth, which stores and nourishes Metal and Water and sustains the yin Po (the yin aspect of vital essence). This is called “inner feeling”: the gate of the Dao, where white is concealed in darkness. Li is yin within and yang on the outside. It contains Ji Earth, which provides a place for cinnabar and mercury (minerals used in alchemy, along with their symbolic meanings) and governs the yang Po (the yang aspect of vital essence). This is called “accomplished nature”: the substance of benevolence and Virtue, where darkness is concealed in white.

The moon is dark by nature and shows its radiance only after receiving the sun’s light. The sun and moon each wax and wane. When yin and yang lose the conditions for union, yin energy can obscure yang light. During an eclipse, when the sun and moon cover one another, the moon temporarily blocks the sunlight as the two bodies align. This is called harm to yang energy and encroachment by yin energy, from which calamity arises. People in the world often fail to preserve their own true yang and are likewise encroached upon and depleted by yin energy.

When female and male counterparts respond to one another, yin and yang interact, and man and woman join in harmony, one can follow the natural course to seek the workings of change. Metal of the Dui trigram can generate Kan Water; but without true Earth to harmonize it, Kan Water will overflow. Li contains fire, which can generate Ji Earth to restrain Kan Water, preventing it from overflowing. Therefore, men who practice the Way should act outwardly with the strength of the Qian trigram, while women’s Virtue should resemble the Kun trigram, soft and still, held within. If Qian’s yang acts outwardly to excess, it will be restrained by Kun’s yin. The Po can bind and draw in the Hun: the Po belongs to Dui, and the Hun to Zhen. Zhen symbolizes the male, and Dui the female, representing the union of yin and yang. Their union must not give way to excessive desire. It should follow the alternation of cold and heat, advancing and retreating, and be harmonized at the proper time without deviation or excess. Only then can the corresponding signs of yin and yang, female and male, each become apparent, revealing the results of cultivation.

This chapter mainly teaches that excessive practice and unrestrained desire allow yin energy to encroach upon yang energy and bring calamity.

The general meaning of this chapter is that when things go beyond their proper measure and become excessive, Yin energy can overpower Yang energy and bring disaster. For example, if summer conditions are imposed at the winter solstice, the weather becomes abnormally hot; if winter conditions are imposed at the summer solstice, the weather turns bitterly cold. It is like a man acting without a woman following: Yang energy takes the lead, but Yin energy does not respond. Yin and Yang fall out of balance. All these are consequences of going beyond the proper measure and giving oneself over to excess.

Practicing the methods of alchemy is not easy and must never be taken lightly. Tradition tells that after the Pure Yang Master (Lü Dongbin) received instruction from the immortal master Zhongli, he entered his chamber to practice. Several times he felt that his efforts were not yet complete, so he did not immediately refine the Elixir. Later, he received the Mirror of Compounding the Medicines from the Perfected One Cui Xuanyuan and at last understood it fully. He then wrote in a poem, “After reading Master Cui’s Mirror of Compounding the Medicines, my mind suddenly became clear.” He continued his practice and soon achieved results.

Some people in later generations mistakenly took Wuwei (non-action) and dull emptiness (clinging to stillness and emptiness while refusing to practice) to be the Dao. They simply drift through life in confusion, leaving life and death to take their course. Such people are great sinners within the Daoist tradition. How could they presume to speak of cultivation?

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Four Become One in Primordial Chaos

Cinnabar and the essence of Wood can unite when they encounter Metal. Where Metal and Water join, Wood and Fire become companions. Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire blend into one and arrange themselves as the Dragon and Tiger, which in Neidan symbolize the forces of Yin and Yang. The Dragon belongs to Yang, whose number is odd; the Tiger belongs to Yin, whose number is even.

The Liver, associated with the color green, is the father; the Lungs, associated with white, are the mother; the Kidneys, associated with black, are the child; the Li trigram, associated with red, is the daughter; and the Spleen, associated with yellow, is the ancestor. Zi and Wu, which represent important directions and times in the movement of Yin and Yang, mark the beginning of the process. Three things join to form one family, and in the end all return to Wu and Ji, symbols of central Earth.

Master Shangyang said: The most subtle and precious things within the human body are Jing and Qi (vital energy). The Scripture of the Mind Seal calls them the highest-grade medicines, while Zhang Ziyang calls them the treasures of nature and life. The books written by the Immortal Elder express these principles in some ways alike and in others differently.

What they share is the phrase “metal returns to the beginning of nature”: only when the Qi of Metal returns to the beginning of one’s nature can it be called “returning the Elixir,” the Neidan practice of refining and nourishing vital energy and restoring it to its source. This is the clearest and most concise shared explanation. Their differences lie in the many symbolic names they use, such as Qian and Kun, Kan and Li, female and male, bellows and key, Yin and Yang, sun and moon, the Mysterious Female, Wu and Ji, firmness and softness, female and male, the Crow and Rabbit, Hun and Po, Yellow Sprout, River Cart, Lead and Mercury, white and black, emptiness and nonbeing, the True Person, Vermilion Bird, Tortoise and Snake, Azure Dragon and White Tiger, as well as the Crescent Moon Furnace, Suspended Womb Cauldron, and civil and martial fire. These names are borrowed to refer to the treasures within the human body and the process of internal alchemy: some compare them to gateways, spirit chambers, and cauldrons; some describe the body’s functions and forms; others symbolize the shifts and advances and retreats of cultivation.

Thus, the Book of Changes uses the opening and closing of Qian and Kun as a metaphor for the gateways of life and death, while alchemical methods use the Magpie Bridge and Yellow Path as metaphors for the routes along which Jing and Qi circulate. Ultimately, both concern the vital energies within oneself. Though the names differ, they point to similar inner realities.

The phrase in this chapter, “Cinnabar and Wood Essence, joined through the attainment of Metal,” conveys an idea akin to the earlier passage: “The solar Flowing Pearl is always about to leave the person; at last it attains Golden Florescence, then turns and joins with it.” The Flowing Pearl, the Maiden, and Cinnabar all belong originally to postcelestial Qi. They are Yin and lack Yang, so they cannot form the Elixir on their own. Metal, Yellow Sprout, and Golden Florescence symbolize primordial Lead, the foundation required to refine the Returning Elixir.

Cinnabar and Wood Essence refer to Wood and Fire in the Li trigram. Wood belongs to the eastern Jia and Yi stems and can generate true Jing; Fire belongs to the southern Bing and Ding stems. The two are likened to father and daughter and belong to Yin within Yang, so Wood of Zhen accompanies Fire of Li. Yellow Sprout and Golden Liquid refer to Lead and Water in the Kan trigram. Metal belongs to the western Geng and Xin stems and can engender liquid; Water belongs to the northern Ren and Gui stems. The two are likened to mother and son and belong to Yang within Yin, so Metal of Dui joins with Water of Kan.

Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water, when mixed together, are symbolized by the Dragon and Tiger, which dwell in the east and west: the Dragon is in the east, belongs to Yang, and has the number three; the Tiger is in the west, belongs to Yin, and has the number four. Wood and Fire together are described as “the Dragon emerging from within Fire”; Metal and Water joined together are described as “the Tiger born within Water.”

In the correspondences of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water), the liver belongs to Wood and is green, the father of Fire; the lungs belong to Metal and are white, the mother of Water; the kidneys belong to Water and are black, the child of Metal; Fire of Li is red, the daughter of Wood; and the spleen belongs to Earth and is yellow, the foundation of the four. The Qi of the Five Phases begins at the Zi position, so Zi is regarded as the place where the first Yang is born.

Metal and Water, Wood and Fire, and Dragon and Tiger together are called the “Three Things.” For these three pairs to meet and coalesce into one, they must also draw on the power of the two Earths, Wu and Ji. Only then can they function and refine the Neidan.

The forces of firmness and yielding rise in alternation, moving and spreading in sequence. The Azure Dragon (Qinglong), which represents the East and Wood Qi, is in the west; the White Tiger (Baihu), which represents the West and Metal Qi, is in the east. They move respectively to the positions of Mao and You. The force of punishment and the force of virtue meet there and join together. Punishment governs restraint and the killing force; virtue governs generation and growth. When the elm sheds its leaves in the second month, the Northern Dipper’s handle star moves to Mao. When wheat grows in the eighth month, the Tiangang star moves to You. Zi lies in the south and Wu in the north; they correspond to one another and form the guiding order of movement. The numbers one and nine cycle back and forth: when the cycle ends, it begins again. Primordial Qi is stored within the Xu and Wei lunar lodges and disperses its essence at Zi.

Note: The Azure Dragon belongs to the East and the White Tiger to the West; these are their usual directions. “Moving in turn and spreading” means that the Azure Dragon moves to You and the White Tiger to Mao. The count ends at nine, then the cycle begins again. Primordial Qi is stored within the Xu and Wei lunar lodges and disperses its essence at Zi.

The Azure Dragon belongs to the east and the White Tiger to the west; these are their normal positions. If they are arranged according to another system, however, the Azure Dragon’s domain falls at the You position and the White Tiger’s at the Mao position. Punishment and Virtue then meet at once, and the Dragons and Tigers delight in one another, crossing paths. When they come together, they can harmonize with each other, making the generation of all things their Virtue. But if the Azure Dragon is in the east and the White Tiger in the west, each holding its own place and flourishing independently, they contend and cause disorder, with killing and warfare as their Punishment.

“Punishment” here is a metaphor for Yin and Yang falling out of balance and the female and male opposing one another; it also refers to the Five Phases moving in their normal sequence. “Virtue,” by contrast, refers to the Five Phases moving in reverse. Punishment is Yin depleting Yang; Virtue is Yang joining with Yin. In the state of Punishment, Yin is abundant and Yang scarce; in the state of Virtue, Yin is scarce and Yang abundant.

For example, four Yang lines and two Yin lines form the hexagram associated with the second lunar month. Yang Qi grows as Yin recedes. Although Yang Qi predominates, some Yin Qi remains. The abundance of Yang symbolizes Virtue, but the residual Yin Qi still carries the nature of killing. Thus, in spring, all things grow, yet the elm seeds wither and fall. This is like the human condition.

In the prime of life, a person has abundant Yang Qi and little Yin Qi, and grows stronger day by day. But if desire burns fiercely at this time, Yin desire will deplete Yang Qi. Even if some Yang remains, it can no longer take control. Illness then sets in. Though Yang Qi is nearly exhausted, the person still longs for the realm of desire and strains to pursue Yin desire. When the remaining Yang encounters that desire, it too is completely consumed, and the person dies suddenly. This is Virtue turning back into Punishment. A person of great wisdom, however, can use the remaining Yang as the foundation for cultivation and promptly practice returning the elixir (a Neidan practice in which Jing and Qi are returned and condensed into an elixir). In this way, it may be possible to regain longevity. This is Punishment and Virtue meeting at once, when the Dragons and Tigers delight in one another.

Another example is four Yin lines and two Yang lines, the hexagram associated with the eighth lunar month. Yang Qi is depleted by Yin Qi. Although Yin Qi predominates, some Yang remains. Abundant Yin symbolizes Punishment, yet the residual Yang can still govern life. Thus, in autumn, when all things are about to wither, shepherd’s purse and wheat instead begin to sprout. This too is like the human condition.

When a person is nearing sixty, Yin Qi is abundant and Yang Qi scarce, and the body grows weaker by the day. If some Yang remains at this time, cultivating the Golden Elixir to restore Yang Qi is called returning to youth and attaining long life. This is Punishment turning back into Virtue.

At the hour of the Rat in the second lunar month, the Dipper’s Ladle approaches the Mao position, while the Dipper’s Handle approaches the Si position. This places them in the southeast, where they govern life and belong to Virtue. At the hour of the Dog in the eighth lunar month, the Dipper’s Handle falls at the You position and the Ladle approaches the Hai position. This places them in the northwest, where they govern killing and belong to Punishment. The scripture says, “The Handle points to Chou, while its body is at Wei; the direction it points is auspicious, and the place where it rests is inauspicious.” This means that the direction indicated by the Handle is auspicious, while the position occupied by the star is perilous. The other positions are understood by the same principle. Star positions are used here as a metaphor for the workings of alchemical cultivation.

“Zi south, Wu north” refers to reversing the positions of the Five Phases. The immortals and sages say, “When the Five Phases move in their normal sequence, the realm of existence is like a pit of fire; when the Five Phases move in reverse, the earth becomes the Seven Treasures.” Water and Fire must therefore govern one another to attain “Already Fulfilled” (the state in which Water and Fire are harmoniously balanced).

Yang Qi is born from one and reaches completion at nine. When the Yang number reaches nine, it arrives at its limit; beyond that limit, it returns to one. This is the cycle of “one and nine,” ending and beginning again. The statements that primordial Qi is stored in the Xu and Wei lunar mansions and that it scatters Jing at the Zi position describe the essential workings of Neidan. The celestial region occupied by the Xu and Wei mansions is where the sun and moon meet, and it is also the direction from which nascent Yang Qi arises. It symbolizes the place where the tortoise and snake coil together. Thus, the innate primordial Qi contained by the Great One sends forth its true Jing at the hour of the Rat. This also echoes the earlier account of Zi and Wu as the starting points of the cycle.

People have heard that Mao and You are the times of “bathing”—a stage in Neidan cultivation for regulating the breath and nurturing the inner state—but may not understand the metaphor of Punishment and Virtue. Virtue and life symbolize obtaining the elixir within half an hour; Punishment and killing symbolize losing and dissipating it in an instant. Therefore, when entering the quiet chamber for alchemical cultivation, one must take care to guard against danger. The Immortal Elder uses the vigorous growth of spring, when all things flourish but elm seeds fall, to show that Punishment must still be guarded against within Virtue, and killing within life. He also uses the autumn scene, when all things wither but shepherd’s purse and wheat grow, to show that Virtue remains within Punishment, and life within killing. These teachings recur throughout the book, whose central purpose is to obtain innate Qi.

Male and female are naturally unable to remain apart: a male bird cannot live alone, and a female bird cannot roost in isolation. The coiling, entwined Xuanwu (the divine creature formed by a tortoise and a serpent) shows that Yin and Yang must work together and depend on one another.

Suppose two women lived in the same room. However beautiful they both might be, even if they enlisted skilled persuaders such as Su Qin and Zhang Yi to arrange a match and make the most persuasive case, they would never become spouses—not even if they waited until their hair fell out and their teeth decayed. If the substances used in cultivation are not of the same kind, their inherent properties do not correspond, or their proportions and timing are improper, the desired result will not be achieved even if the Yellow Emperor personally tends the alchemical furnace, Taiyi (a Daoist deity) tends the fire, the Eight Lords pound and refine the ingredients, and the King of Huainan blends them. Nor will it help to hold an elaborate ceremony on a high altar, lay out jade steps, prepare precious offerings, kneel for a long time in prayer to the spirits, or bathe and observe purification. It would be like mending a pot with glue or treating a sore with niter; like trying to drive out cold with ice or reduce a fever with hot water. Even drawing the tortoise and serpent in flight would only make the method more confused.

The pairing of male and female here illustrates that the substances used in alchemy must be of the same kind and correspond in Yin and Yang, with the proper proportions and sequence observed. Prayer and ritual cannot make up for errors in choosing the substances or carrying out the method.

The commentary says that the Immortal Elder points out directly that refining the Golden Elixir requires medicines that complement one another: one Yin and one Yang must interact and unite; one female and one male are needed for generation and transformation. If they remain apart, how could the conditions for change and creation arise? With only the female and no male, how could the principle of ceaseless generation continue? Therefore, to refine the Returning Elixir—the elixir being refined, in the terminology of Daoist internal or external alchemy—one must seek the primal Qi of before Heaven and Earth took form, when Yin and Yang had yet to separate.

The words in this chapter are plain, so the commentator does not repeat them. The author of this book reveals the mysteries of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformations, embodies the power by which Heaven and Earth nurture all things, explains how the sun and moon shine in turn, and discloses the methods for reversing the operations of Yin and Yang. The Book of Changes says: “Align yourself with the Virtue of Heaven and Earth, with the brightness of the sun and moon, with the order of the four seasons, and with the auspicious and inauspicious matters governed by ghosts and spirits. Act before Heaven’s timing, and Heaven will not oppose you; act in accord with Heaven’s timing, and you are following the Dao of Heaven. If even Heaven will not oppose you, how much less will people?”

The sages preside over this Dao, and spiritual beings cultivate it. Wherever this book circulates, the deities of Heaven and Earth, the sun, moon, and stars, and the gods of thunder will often protect it. If a worthy and discerning person receives it with reverence and recites it ten thousand times, the Immortals and perfected beings will descend into his courtyard and teach him the Highest Dao. But if an ignorant person recklessly slanders it, ghosts and spirits will secretly record his faults and enter them in the Black Register, the underworld’s ledger of offenses. At best, he will be plagued by grave illness; at worst, the officials of the underworld will hasten the shortening of his life, making him a ghost in the netherworld, sunk for ages in a sea of suffering. The rewards for goodness and the calamities that follow licentious wrongdoing are clear and unmistakable; they must not be ignored.

Lower Volume

Chapter Thirty-One: Sages and Worthies Subdue Themselves in Refinement

The sages of old held the mysterious Dao in their hearts and remained true to it. Through cultivating the method of the Nine Cauldrons, they transformed their physical form and withdrew from the world. They nurtured and contained their Jing and Qi, cared for their Shen, and brought their De into accord with the sun, moon, and stars. They regulated their fluids and the tissues beneath the skin, strengthened their sinews and bones, drove away every kind of harmful influence, and kept their vital energy in them for a long time. In this way, through years of steady practice, they eventually transformed their bodies and became immortals.

The sages felt compassion for later generations who loved Daoist arts. Seeing them follow the traces left by those who came before, they annotated and explained ancient writings, compiled them into books, and passed them on to later students. Yet the books revealed only the branches and leaves while concealing the roots. They also used various names to cover up errors in the wording. Even when scholars obtained these books, they often treasured them their whole lives without grasping their essential meaning. Their descendants carried on the work of their fathers and grandfathers, passing these materials down from generation to generation. People were consequently left confused and never truly understood them. As a result, some officials neglected their duties, farmers abandoned their fields, merchants left their goods behind, and men of purpose were reduced to poverty.

I was deeply saddened by this, so I gathered and arranged these writings. The language is concise and easy to understand; the content is pared down, without needless complexity, and set out in sections so that its essential points can be checked. The quantities of the substances are fixed, and the stages of cultivation are to be followed in order. I have therefore written these words as a key to opening the gate. Those with wisdom should consider them carefully and investigate them with focused attention.

The commentary says: The sages of antiquity surely understood the Great Dao, which is why the writings of Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor all discuss it. The Yinfu Jing has been handed down to the present day and contains 315 characters. Because later generations did not understand its principles, they made wild guesses about the scripture. One must investigate it with focused attention to grasp its meaning.

The sages of antiquity must have understood the Great Dao. That is why the writings left by Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor all speak of the Great Dao. The Yinfu Jing has been handed down to the present day and contains 315 characters in all. Later readers failed to understand its meaning and made arbitrary guesses, claiming that it speaks of the Dao in one hundred characters, the method in another hundred, and the techniques in a third hundred. Such claims have misled the world. How could those people understand the Way of the sages?

The 120 characters of the Yinfu Jing beginning with “Observe the Dao of Heaven” set out the essential principles of the Dao. The 91 characters beginning with “Heaven and Earth are thieves of the myriad things” describe the methods for beginning cultivation. The 104 characters beginning with “The blind are skilled at hearing” explain the key to completing cultivation.

The Yellow Emperor secretly refined the Great Elixir in the Nine Tripods at Dinghu and ascended to Heaven on a dragon. This did not mean smelting metals, stones, plants, and herbs. Rather, it meant concealing primordial Qi to form the Elixir. Thus, “secretly refining” does not mean “taking and refining.” Each aspect of this secret refinement has its own specific practice, such as cherishing the Mysterious, embracing the True, concealing one’s traces, withdrawing into hidden seclusion, containing essence, nurturing spirit, and connecting De with the Three Lights. These seven practices come first and are called the “furnace fire”; they are also known as refining the self. Once the self has been successfully refined, true Qi circulates and rises within the body, spreading throughout it. This is like fire in a furnace and warmth burning within, which is why it is called furnace fire, or refining the self.

When the body’s fluids are abundant and its tissues are well nourished, the sinews and bones become strong. All harmful influences can then be expelled, while vital Qi endures. These four results belong to the concealment of Qi, which is also called refining the Elixir. “Cherishing the Mysterious” means keeping the Qi of the Mysterious One within the heart. “Embracing the True” means bearing and holding within oneself the truth of the Great One. “Concealing one’s traces” means gathering in one’s radiance and hiding one’s whereabouts so that others do not know one’s true identity. “Withdrawing into hidden seclusion” means concealing oneself so deeply that no one can recognize one. This is how the adept cultivators of antiquity were subtle and mysterious, beyond fathoming.

“Containing essence” means nourishing the essence of true mercury for the purpose of refining the self. “Nurturing spirit” means regulating the spirit throughout the body from the outside, so that spirit and Qi unite. Once cultivation has reached this stage, the crucial point is to “connect De with the Three Lights.” De is essential to spiritual practice. To cultivate the Dao without cultivating De is like having Yin without Yang. When both the Dao and De are cultivated, Yin and Yang naturally come into balance. If someone thinks they possess De but in fact does not, it is often because deluded thoughts remain in the heart, preventing De from reaching out and resonating. The deeper a cultivator’s De, the less they think of themselves as virtuous. Heaven and Earth, the spirits, the sun, moon, and stars will also respond. Zhang Daoling, Ge Xuan, and Xu Xun all cultivated De and practiced the Dao without harboring ulterior aims. This is what it means to connect De with the Three Lights.

Only after diligently refining the self, accumulating De, and establishing this resonance can one secretly refine the Great Elixir. The abundance of bodily fluids and nourishment of the tissues refer to Jade Fluids (White Snow) and Golden Liquids (Yellow Sprouts) circulating and spreading within the spirit chamber, thereby strengthening the sinews and bones throughout the body. “The many harmful influences” refers to the various Yin influences in the body, all of which can be expelled. “Vital Qi” is primordial Yang Qi, which endures without decay. Through long accumulation, the body can be transformed and one can become an immortal. This is what the Yellow Emperor’s secret refinement of the Great Elixir in the Nine Tripods means. The Qinghui lu records that Xuanyuan first lived as a commoner, then served as a minister, and later ruled as sovereign. After benefiting the world and accumulating merit, he ascended to Heaven when his allotted years had run their course.

After the Yinfu Jing, sages of successive generations continued to elucidate the Great Dao. King Wen’s Zhouyi explains that Qian and Kun are the gateways of change, and also sets out the way of husband and wife as expressed in the Xian and Heng hexagrams. Confucius’s Ten Wings explains the meanings of Qian’s firm, vigorous forward movement and Kun’s gentle, still restraint. The five thousand words of the Daodejing discuss being and nonbeing, and the gateway of the Mysterious Female. In the Zhongyong, Zisi says that what Heaven bestows is called one’s nature, and following one’s nature is called the Dao. Mencius speaks of nurturing vast, flowing Qi, explaining that it is immense and strong, and must be nourished through integrity without being harmed. The stories of Jiansu and Lao Peng, as well as Liezi’s riding the wind and Zhuangzi’s giant Peng bird, also show the path by which sages, through cultivation, approach the Way of the immortals.

The sages feared that people in later generations who studied the Dao would struggle to understand it, so they left behind texts and diagrams to indicate its general direction. Some writings reveal the branches while concealing the root; others use borrowed names and scattered veiled expressions to obscure their true meaning. To reveal the branches is to disclose only a general outline. For example, the Zhouyi says, “Qian and Kun are the gates of change”; as for the root, it must be conveyed orally, so it is not set down in writing. Borrowed names and veiled expressions are used because the teaching cannot be stated openly. Similes and metaphors are therefore used, and the teachings scattered across different books. Even if a discerning person in a later age comes across these words, without meeting a transmitter they can only keep them hidden away, unable to understand them throughout their life. Those suited to receive the Dao can pass it down from generation to generation.

Some who study the Dao copy these writings without receiving the essential instructions from a teacher. They pass confusion on as though it were knowledge, leading others onto a misguided path, where they ultimately find nothing. They do not understand Yin-Yang and mistake the Five Phases, confusing later cultivators. Having only written texts without oral instructions is like people who have lost their proper occupations: an official seeks a career in public service but has no way in; a farmer wants to cultivate but has no land; a craftsperson has skill but nowhere to apply it; a merchant thinks only of profit but has lost their capital. A student of the Dao may have books to read but, without a teacher’s transmission, has no way to begin. If they rely on guesswork and cultivate blindly, how could they possibly attain the Dao?

Moved by compassion for later students, the Immortal Master opened the furnace and forge, organized the material, and wrote this book as a guide for later generations cultivating the Dao. Its words are concise and easy to ponder, as in “The True Person sinks deep into the abyss.” The matters it describes are clear, and its principles are not complicated, as in “Gold returns to its original nature.” The upper section has fifteen chapters, revealing the course of Yin-Yang change and the beginning and completion of collecting and refining the Elixir. The middle section has fifteen chapters, detailing the proportions of the ingredients and the timing of the fire. The lower section has five chapters, explaining the images, correspondences, and attainment. Later readers can compare these topics with the principles they contain, making the book easier to study. The numbers and proportions given in the book follow established rules. With a little guidance from a teacher, and by practicing these chapters in sequence, one can form the Elixir. The veiled expressions in the text use borrowed names and metaphors to conceal the true meaning; the “apertures” contain profound and mysterious teachings.

This book is a bridge across great calamities and a bright lamp on a dark road. Sages and worthies of later generations should reflect on it carefully, apply it with discernment, and honor the Great Dao. The Great Dao cannot be explained by anyone but a sage, and is not lightly spoken of to anyone but a worthy person. A father cannot necessarily pass the Dao on to his son, nor can a minister necessarily offer it to his sovereign. Does this mean that the sages’ Dao is not transmitted? They simply fear that those without De cannot bear it; if it is revealed recklessly, both the transmitter and the recipient may fall into difficulty. Those with wisdom should therefore consider it carefully and devote themselves to contemplating its meaning.

Among the transformations of Heaven, Earth, and all things, nothing is greater or more evident than the many signs between Heaven and Earth, stretching far and wide like a deep ravine across tens of thousands of miles. When the River Drum star draws near the position of Xingji, the people are filled with fear. When the length and direction of the sun’s shadow shift irregularly, it foretells calamity during the next nine years. After observing these signs, the ruler withdraws to reflect and correct his conduct. As the pivot of Heaven and Earth rises and falls, the qi of disaster dissipates. Rivers, lakes, and marshes sometimes dry up, while their waters ultimately flow into the sea.

The Yin and Yang energies of male and female in Heaven and Earth move in alternation, cycling between the Zi and Wu positions. Yin and Yang change at the fundamental positions of Yin and Shen; their energies enter and emerge in a cycle, ending only to begin again. By observing these patterns, the ruler reflects and corrects his faults. As the pivot of Heaven and Earth rises and falls, the qi of disaster dissipates; the waters of rivers flow into the sea. Yin and Yang energies move back and forth through Heaven and Earth, while the Yin and Shen positions mark the beginning and end of their emergence and return.

Follow the movement of the Northern Dipper to determine direction, using its handle to indicate the quarters and set the calendar’s reckoning of the year and seasons. Place the refined materials in Zeng Mountain, a vessel or furnace for steaming and refining, and build a strong fire beneath it. The White Tiger, a term for alchemical energies such as Metal and Water, leads in front, while the Azure Liquor, a term for a green liquid or medicinal substance, harmonizes behind. The Vermilion Bird, a term for alchemical energies such as Fire and Yang, wheels and dances, displaying five-colored radiance. Yet it is caught in a net and held down, unable to rise; it cries out mournfully like an infant longing for its mother. Upside down, it falls into the boiling cauldron, its feathers damaged and broken.

Before half the water clock has run, the contents of the furnace surge and heave like fish scales and fins. Five-colored radiance flashes and shifts unpredictably; the liquid in the cauldron churns and boils without end. The substances pile up and interlock in layers, their shapes pressing against one another like dogs’ teeth. At times they resemble ice in midwinter; at others they take on the crystalline appearance of fine jade or stalactites. They rise and fall in uneven, interwoven heaps, supporting one another. Once the Yin and Yang energies are joined, they peacefully and calmly hold fast to each other.

The Azure Dragon, symbolizing energies such as the Wood qi of the East, is at the sixth star of the Fang constellation; spring qi stirs in the eastern Mao position. The White Tiger is at the seventh star of the Mao constellation; autumn qi appears in the western You position. The Vermilion Bird is at the second star of the Zhang constellation; pure Yang qi converges at the southern Wu position. The three come together like members of one family, close in one another’s company. The foundation of alchemical work consists of just two basic substances, which unfold into numbers such as three and five. Three and five combine and return to one, ultimately gathering at two positions.

Refine according to the method described above, counting the necessary days according to their corresponding periods. The medicine first appears white, then turns yellow, after which red and black emerge from within outward. This is called the “First Cauldron”; the resulting medicine is the size of a millet grain. These transformations arise naturally; they are neither perverse nor contrived.

The qi of mountains and marshes mingles and rises as clouds, then descends as rain. When soil dries out, it becomes dust; when fire goes out, it becomes earth. Cork-tree bark can dye cloth yellow, and indigo plants can dye silk green. Boiled hides can be made into glue, and fermented grain starters can be brewed into wine. Materials of the same kind are easy to work with; things of different natures resist ingenious transformation. This subtle art must be examined carefully; what the book says is no deception. It has been passed down through countless generations, clear and evident enough to be verified, bright as stars in the Milky Way and brilliant as…