《周易参同契发挥(原题俞琰)》Vol. 1

Elucidation of the Zhouyi Cantong qi is Yu Yan’s commentary on the Zhouyi Cantong qi. The work comprises nine scrolls, divided into upper, middle, and lower sections, with additional pieces such as “Song of the Crucible and Vessel.” The original text is included in the Taixuan section of the Zhengtong Daoist Canon. Presented here are its table of contents and the beginning of its preface.

The Cantong qi is regarded as the source of alchemical scriptures throughout the ages. Its language is archaic, profound, and subtle.

Since ancient times, The Seal of the Unity of the Three has been regarded as the source of the alchemical scriptures. Its language is refined and profound, and its meaning subtle and difficult to fathom. Yet without genuine understanding and practice, and without receiving the correct transmission, one cannot read this book fully. If someone teaches principles that contradict The Seal of the Unity of the Three but claims to possess a separate secret transmission and says there is no need to read it, that person is merely speaking recklessly.

In the past, during the Chunxi and Qingyuan eras, Zhu Xi taught and studied widely across the writings of many schools. When he encountered views that differed from his own, he never echoed them or agreed just to go along. He especially loved Wei Boyang’s The Seal of the Unity of the Three, which he studied repeatedly without considering this a mere preference. He annotated the book and examined variant readings. He also said, “The learning Shao Yong received from Chen Tuan has its source entirely in The Seal of the Unity of the Three.” He further said, “The principles before us are perfectly clear; what is still lacking is a way to put them into practice.” Later he said, “Only now have I begun to sort out the clues, but I still do not know what materials it uses or where its crucial secrets lie.”

When Cai Yuanding, known as Xishan, was banished under supervision to Daozhou, Zhu Xi saw him off and kept him at Hanquan Retreat. Together they collated The Seal of the Unity of the Three, often staying awake all night. After Cai Yuanding died, Zhu Xi came to understand what was meant by “calculations of the numerical sequences.” He regretted that he could no longer discuss it with Cai. Zhu Xi himself died not long afterward. The annotations to this book seem to have circulated only after Cai Yuanding’s death. None of Zhu Xi’s disciples at the time could carry on this line of inquiry, so Zhu Xi stopped asking others about it. Even so, there were still parts of the book that dissatisfied him and remained unresolved.

Written by Yu Junyu of Shijian.

Explications of the Seal of the Unity of the Three of the Zhouyi, Volume One

Composed by Master Quanyang, the Mountain Recluse of Linwu.

Upper Section, First

Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Classic of Changes and the parents of the many hexagrams.

Closing a door is called Kun, and opening it is called Qian. Opening and closing together are called “change,” while ceaseless coming and going are called “penetration.” Thus Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Yijing. Qian gives birth to three sons, and Kun to three daughters. When male and female unite, the myriad things are transformed and brought forth. Qian and Kun are therefore also the parents of the sixty-four hexagrams. The human body takes its model from Heaven and Earth, and shares their Yin-Yang transformations. Only when we understand that our own bodies are connected to the Yin-Yang of Heaven and Earth can we speak of the Way of returning the Elixir—the art of cultivation by which Jing and Qi are gathered and brought back to their source.

“Kan and Li form the enclosure; set the hub in motion and align the axle” means that Kan, which symbolizes the moon and Yin, and Li, which symbolizes the sun and Yang, define the sphere of movement. The sun and moon travel along the ecliptic, alternating between day and night in an unceasing cycle, like the rim around a wheel. The hub is the wheel’s center, and the axle is its shaft. For the wheel to turn, the axle must first be aligned. Those who cultivate the returning Elixir must bring the movements of the sun and moon within the body into accord with the transformations of Heaven and Earth. They must therefore also set their hearts straight.

“The four paired male and female hexagrams serve as the guiding keys” means that four hexagrams combining Yin and Yang are used as essential principles for governing their transformations. They are like the reins held by a driver to guide a team of horses: with standards and rules, the horses follow the tracks, while the driver keeps them centered and controls their movements. The principles behind this system of numbers are found in the calendar and the seasonal markers. Each month is divided into six stages, which progress according to the transformations of Yin and Yang. The hexagram images interweave like warp and weft, connecting and carrying through the Way of Yin and Yang, just as the driver holds the reins. One hexagram governs the day and another the night, making sixty hexagrams in all, with firmness and yielding, Yin and Yang, each having their inner and outer aspects.

The cycle begins at dawn on the new moon, when the Tun hexagram takes its turn. At dusk, the Meng hexagram succeeds it. Day and night each correspond to one hexagram, which follows the next in turn. When the cycle reaches the Jiji and Weiji hexagrams, it ends as dawn approaches, then begins again from the start.

The Qian hexagram is the pure-Yang “male hexagram,” symbolizing firm Yang; the Kun hexagram is the pure-Yin “female hexagram,” symbolizing yielding Yin. Kan contains Yang within Yin, while Li contains Yin within Yang. The female and male hexagrams join with one another, forming an image of intermingling.

The methods of alchemy place Qian and Kun above and below, and arrange Kan and Li in the east and west. As Qian and Kun open and close, and Kan and Li move back and forth, they resemble a bellows. Hence the saying: “The four female and male hexagrams serve as the bellows.” A bellows is a hollow device: its body resembles a bag, and its tube is the outlet for the air. The Dao De Jing says, “Isn’t the space between Heaven and Earth like a bellows? Empty, yet never exhausted; the more it is worked, the more the air keeps flowing.” The vast, boundless Great Void is like the form of a bellows; the opening and closing, coming and going of Qi (vital energy) is like its function. Once this principle is understood, most of the way of returning the elixir—the alchemical path centered on Yin-Yang transformation—is already grasped.

Yet this principle can be sustained only through attentive cultivation; abandon it, and it is lost. One must therefore be vigilant and steady within, while setting boundaries and guarding oneself outwardly. This is like the charioteering of Master Taidou, described in the Liezi: The Perfect Scripture of the Surpassing Void and Perfect Virtue. He balanced his control between reins and bit, adjusting pressure between the horse’s lips and teeth; he held the measure in his mind and regulated the rhythm with his hands. His inner understanding accorded with the art of driving, while outwardly he followed the horse’s nature. Thus he could advance and retreat as straight as a stretched cord, and turn as precisely as a compass and square. The methods of alchemy are similar.

“Numbers follow the patterns of pitch, calendar, and cycle” means that the process follows the patterns of the pitch standards, the calendar, and the cycle: the twelve pitches, the twelve months, and the twelve years. “Each monthly section has five and six” means dividing a thirty-day month into six periods of five days each. “Qian and Kun establish the north-south positions; Kan and Li work their subtle use along the east-west axis” means that Qian and Kun determine the north and south, while Kan and Li express their function in the east and west. “Serving the sun” means following the sun’s course. The timing of cultivation should accord with the seasons of Heaven and move in step with the sun’s rising and setting, without error.

“Combining them gives sixty” means removing Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li from the sixty-four hexagrams of the Book of Changes, leaving sixty hexagrams. The twelve double hours of a day are governed by two hexagrams, with each line corresponding to one double hour. The two hexagrams have twelve lines between them, matching the number twelve in the pitch, calendar, and cycle systems. Then, by reckoning a month as thirty days, the total comes to sixty hexagrams. If the sixty hexagrams are set out across the thirty days of a month, on the morning of the new moon, the first day, the Tun hexagram is used, and in the evening the Meng hexagram; the twelve double hours of day and night correspond exactly to the twelve lines of these two hexagrams. Next come Xu in the morning and Song in the evening, then Shi in the morning and Bi in the evening, continuing in sequence until, on the last day of the month, Ji Ji and Wei Ji are used. The last day and the new moon follow one another in an endless cycle.

The changes between firm and yielding lines within the hexagram images may sometimes be opposite and sometimes complementary; there is no need to cling rigidly to them. Zhang Ziyang’s Wuzhen Pian says, “Once you grasp the meaning, do not remain attached to the hexagram images; scrutinizing each line will only waste your energy.” This does not mean that the sixty hexagrams should literally be assigned mechanically to the thirty days of every month. If this point is not understood, and one clings to the hexagram images, insisting that each day and every pair of double hours has a fixed stage of the firing process, then calculating each line and change in the seasons with precision, and watching the sundial and water clock day and night, one has gone badly astray.

The hours of the day follow a certain order, and in cultivation, activity and quiet repose each have their own appropriate times.

Chen Nijiu’s Cui Xu Pian says, “The twelve periods of the day are clearly distinguished in Heaven, yet people take each of them as a stage in refining the Elixir.” This means arranging cultivation in accordance with the sequence of the day. Here, “day” refers to the timing of the firing process—the rhythm of advancing and withdrawing in refining and nourishing—while “period” refers to the right moment. If you can reflect on yourself through the timing of Heaven, then the position corresponding to the sun’s course is also the period within your own body. The Wuzhen Pian says, “In refining the medicine, one must understand dusk and dawn.” This means that activity and stillness should accord with morning and evening: activity is like rising to work at sunrise; stillness is like resting at sunset. The human body, too, has rhythms resembling sunrise and sunset, and the activity and stillness of the firing process in cultivation should subtly accord with the timing of Heaven. This does not mean relying on the celestial pivot of the Big Dipper or the timing of the tides to determine when to begin one’s practice.

Each hexagram in the Book of Changes has six lines: the lower three are called “inner,” and the upper three “outer.” The hexagrams Zhun and Meng can illustrate this. In the morning, take Zhun as the image, symbolizing Yang Fire rising. Its first nine line corresponds to the Zi hour within the body, and its movement proceeds from within outward. Hence the saying, “In spring and summer, follow the inner form, from Zi through Chen and Si.” At dusk, take Meng as the image, symbolizing the Yin Tally descending. Its top nine line corresponds to the Wu hour within the body, and its movement proceeds from without inward. Hence the saying, “In autumn and winter, apply the outer function, from Wu through Xu and Hai.” The references here to spring, summer, autumn, and winter; to Zi, Wu, Si, and Hai; and to inner and outer are all metaphors used to explain the principles of cultivation. To cling to the hexagram images and their literal wording, and to treat the qi of the hexagrams as actual clock times to follow, is simply fruitless.

Rewards and punishments in one’s conduct should accord with the seasonal order of spring and autumn; darkness and brightness, too, should follow the changes of cold and heat. The line statements of the hexagrams contain principles of benevolence and righteousness, which should be expressed as joy or anger in keeping with the moment. By thus following the four seasons, the movements of the Five Phases can each take their proper course.

Yang Qi begins to flourish in spring, while Yin Qi turns toward decline and severity in autumn. In alchemical practice, “reward and punishment” likewise change with the seasons. On the longest day of the year, the sun rises during the Yin hour (3–5 a.m.); on the shortest day, it sets by the Shen hour (3–5 p.m.). The “dusk and dawn” of alchemical practice follow a similar pattern.

The texts on the hexagram lines speak of benevolence and righteousness, and of expressing joy or anger in response to the moment. Concealment or emergence, advance or retreat—all must accord with their proper timing. Xue Zixian’s Fuming Pian says: “To grasp the increase and decrease of the fire’s timing, the mind must rise beyond the mundane. As one line passes, the next is born. Apply Yin’s civil method and Yang’s martial method according to the moment, proceeding step by step, and a Returning Elixir can be refined in the fire.” Here, “the fire’s timing” means adjusting the heat and stages of alchemical practice, while “Yin’s civil method and Yang’s martial method” refers to different ways of cultivation.

Are there really specific hexagram lines involved in alchemy? Terms such as “reward and punishment,” “dusk and dawn,” “benevolence and righteousness,” and “joy and anger,” as well as references to the four seasons and the Five Phases, are all merely metaphors for the principles of alchemical practice.

Heaven and Earth each take their proper place, and the transformations of the Yi unfold between them.

Heaven is above and Earth is below: this is the arrangement of Heaven and Earth. Yin and Yang transform in turn: this is the Yijing (Classic of Changes) principle by which Heaven and Earth operate. Yang Qi begins to arise at the hour of Zi (midnight), passing through the hours of Chou, Yin, and Mao until it reaches its peak at the hour of Si. After one hundred and eighty days, Yin Qi begins to arise. Yin Qi begins to arise at the hour of Wu, passing through the hours of Wei, Shen, and You until it reaches its peak at the hour of Hai. After one hundred and eighty days, Yang Qi begins to arise again. Yang grows within Yin, and Yin within Yang; Yin and Yang cycle and give rise to one another without end. This is called the Changes.

This principle of change exists between Heaven and Earth, and within the human body as well. The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) says: “First take Qian and Kun as the vessel, then gather the medicines of the Crow and Hare and refine them.” Qian and Kun refer to Heaven and Earth; the Crow and Hare symbolize the sun and moon. This does not refer to the Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon outside the body, but to experiencing and cultivating them within the human body.

Heaven is above and Earth below, with the two Qi moving between them, rising and descending, coming and going without rest, like a bellows. Human beings are born by receiving the balanced, harmonious Qi of Heaven and Earth—the Qi in which Yin and Yang are in harmony—and are fundamentally no different from Heaven and Earth. If one can grasp the mystery of Heaven and Earth’s bellows-like movement, and make the mind and spirit empty, still, and clear, then the single Qi within the body will naturally circulate up and down. As the breath goes out, it is like Earth Qi rising; as the breath comes in, it is like Heaven Qi descending. In this way, one can endure as long as Heaven and Earth.

The Zihua Zi says that in ancient times, those who understood the Great Dao built barriers to ward off pernicious influences and cleared the source to nourish true Qi. They lived quietly and peacefully, undisturbed by external things. In movement and rest, and in every breath in and out, they brought body and mind into harmony with spirit and Qi. Their hun and po souls observed the precepts and carefully guarded the body’s openings. With their intentions focused and undistracted, they were able to preserve true Qi. True Qi flowed up and down through the body, and the breath moved freely, unceasing like flowing water or the courses of the sun and moon. Yin Qi nourished the internal organs, while Yang Qi protected the visceral organs. The flow of Qi continued without interruption, abundant but not leaking out, vigorous but not overflowing. This was called enduring life. To abandon these foundations yet claim to possess some other shortcut to swiftly ascend among the clouds is merely an unorthodox, deviant art, not the right path for cultivating the Great Elixir.

Heaven and Earth symbolize Qian and Kun. “Establishing positions” means arranging the places where Yin and Yang correspond. In the Book of Changes (Yijing), Kan and Li are two transformations through which Qian and Kun function. Kan and Li have no fixed positions among the six line places—the positions occupied by yin and yang lines in a hexagram. They circulate among them, coming and going without certainty, with no permanent place above or below.

Qian symbolizes Heaven and Kun symbolizes Earth. Within the human body, they can be compared to the cauldron vessels used in cultivation and refinement—that is, the body as a vessel for the process. Li symbolizes the sun and Kan the moon; within the body, they can be compared to the substances used in cultivation and refinement, such as the Jing and Qi transformed in Neidan practice. In the Earlier Heaven Bagua, arranged according to the natural positions of Heaven and Earth, Qian is in the south, Kun in the north, Li in the east, and Kan in the west. Heaven and Earth are paired along the north-south axis, while the east and west mark the gates through which the sun and moon rise and set.

When the principles of Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon are turned inward and contemplated within oneself, the principles inside and outside prove to be the same. Qian and Kun are the fundamental substance; Kan and Li are its function. Kan and Li circulate and rise and descend among the six line places, moving back and forth, up and down, without a fixed position. Within the human body, too, Kan and Li move within the cauldron vessel. They can be concealed in Heaven or hidden in Earth—how could they have fixed line places?

“Hidden away and submerged” means that Shen enters Qi, Qi enters the navel, and then sinks down to return to the sea floor—the region around the lower Dantian in Daoist Neidan practice. “Transforming within” means that when the time arrives, Qi changes naturally. When stillness reaches its utmost, the power of life stirs of itself, bringing forth the “sun’s head,” an image in Neidan practice that symbolizes Yang Qi or the inner elixir. Chen Xiyi’s Treatise on Pointing to the Mystery says: “Faintly, without a trace, it returns to the Dark Warrior; in darkness, a mechanism stirs of itself, forming the sacred embryo.” This is what the passage means.

To embrace all things is to form the guiding principle of the Great Dao.

The Wuzhen pian says: The Dao arises from nothingness, producing a single Qi. This Qi then transforms and gives rise to Yin and Yang. When Yin and Yang unite, they generate three forms; these three continue to transform and give rise to the myriad things, which thereby flourish. The foundation of the Golden Elixir’s formation is simply the primordial Qi. The single Qi divides into two, the two divide into three, and then these disperse into the myriad things—all stemming from this one Qi. Thus it is said to encompass all things and to be the guiding principle of the Dao’s operation.

Use “nothing” to govern “something”: a vessel works because of the empty space within it.

The Daodejing says: Thirty spokes converge at a single wheel hub, but it is the empty space at the hub’s center that allows the wheel to turn. Clay is kneaded into a vessel, but it is the hollow interior that allows the vessel to hold things. Doors and windows are cut into a house, but it is the open space inside that makes the house fit to live in. Thus, tangible things bring convenience, while emptiness is what makes them useful.

Lin Yongzhai’s commentary says: The hub is the part of a wheel that holds the axle, and the spokes are the wheel’s radiating rods. The center of the hub is hollow, allowing the wheel to turn. The vessel mentioned here is pottery fired by a potter. It is hollow and round, and so becomes a usable vessel. Doors and windows are the parts of a house that let in air and light. The examples of the wheel, vessel, and house all illustrate how “emptiness” serves a purpose. Thus it is said that tangible things bring convenience, while emptiness makes them truly useful.

Wheels, vessels, and houses all depend on tangible forms, yet what makes them function as wheels, vessels, and houses is the empty space within them. Wei Boyang’s saying, “Use nothing to govern something; a vessel works because it is empty,” draws directly on this idea of Laozi’s. In Golden Elixir cultivation, the Great Void—the vast, formless expanse—is taken as the crucible. Within the Great Void, a wondrous natural function is already present. It is truly marvelous.

The Guan Yin Zi says: Wave a sleeve through the empty air, and you obtain wind; breathe onto an object, and you can make it congeal into water. Chen Baoyi’s commentary says: If you understand that waving the empty air can produce wind, you can work your own bellows to set Qi in motion. If you understand that breathing onto an object can turn it into water, you can nurture the Qi within yourself until it transforms into Jing. If you do not understand these principles and instead seek a so-called crucible elsewhere, you go against the Way of emptiness and nothingness.

Therefore, if one follows the pattern of Yin and Yang waxing and waning, advancing and retreating, Kan and Li—symbols respectively of water and fire, and often of Yin and Yang—will gradually recede and dissolve.

“Breath” is the moment for advancing the fire—that is, cultivating through the timely advance of Yang Fire. After three transformations, Kun becomes Qian. “Advancing the water” is a metaphor for nourishing and harmonizing this Qi so that it transforms into essence and Qi. If one does not understand this and instead seeks elsewhere for a so-called vessel—the vessel used in alchemy as a metaphor for the body and mind or the conditions needed for cultivation—then one has departed from the Dao, whose foundation is emptiness.

Thus, when the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang are used to trace the changes, Kan and Li have not disappeared.

“Breath” is the moment for advancing the fire, symbolizing Kun’s transformation into Qian through three changes. “Wane” is the moment for withdrawing the tally—that is, timely restraint of Yang Qi and retreat to guard the Yin tally—symbolizing Qian’s transformation into Kun through three changes. Beginning at dawn on the new moon, when the Zhen trigram governs, the images proceed in sequence through Dui until they reach Qian. After the full moon, when Xun governs, the images proceed in sequence through Gen until they reach Kun. In these changes, the line positions of Kan and Li cannot be seen. Does this mean that Kan and Li have vanished? No: Kan and Li have not disappeared. They simply move among the Six Empties—the vacant positions occupied by the six lines—and come and go without fixed course.

These words are not made up at will, nor do the principles discussed arise from nothing. They must be grounded in verifiable signs and results, and measured by the standard of the spirits. Tracing things of the same kind and drawing together the written signs serves to verify how things stand. Kan corresponds to Wu and symbolizes the essence within the moon; Li corresponds to Ji and symbolizes the sun’s radiance. The sun and moon join in what is called “Change”; Yin and Yang, firmness and yielding, are paired with one another. Earth is at its height in the midst of the four seasons, linking beginning and end. Blue-green, red, white, and black each occupy a direction, and all receive the influence of Wu-Ji Earth from the central palace.

The Kan trigram, which symbolizes water, is Yin on the outside and Yang within, like the moon. The Li trigram, which symbolizes fire, is Yang on the outside and Yin within, like the sun. Kan corresponds to Wu, which belongs to Yang Earth; Li corresponds to Ji, which belongs to Yin Earth. When Wu Earth and Ji Earth unite, Yin and Yang can harmonize with each other, and firmness and softness can work in balance. It is like joining the characters for “sun” and “moon” to form the character for “Yi,” or change.

Blue-green, red, white, and black represent Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water. Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water each occupy a direction, while Earth alone lies at the center and flourishes during the four seasonal periods of Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei, running through the whole year from beginning to end. Thus Wood draws on Earth to flourish, Fire draws on Earth to settle, Metal draws on Earth to arise, and Water draws on Earth to come to rest. All four depend on Earth to fulfill their functions.

Earth extends throughout Heaven and Earth and has no fixed position. In Kan it is called Wu Earth; in Li, Ji Earth; at the center, Wu-Ji Earth; and across the four seasons, the Earth of Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei. In essence, all are Earth. The Wuzhen pian, a classic of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), says, “The Four Images and Five Phases all rely on Earth.” It also says, “Only because each contains true Earth can the Golden Elixir return.” This means that the Four Images and Five Phases cannot be harmonized without Earth; only when both Yin and Yang contain “true Earth” can the Golden Elixir return to its source. Without true Earth to bring them into harmony, Yin and Yang would be cut off from one another, firmness and softness would fall apart, and the Golden Elixir could not be refined.

Alas, Wei Boyang, the author of the Cantong qi, wrote this book to illuminate the mysteries of cultivating the Dao. What he says is grounded in the knowledge he gained through personal verification and actual practice. Worried that this might not persuade later generations, he took the movements of the sun and moon as his standard and used the principles of the Yi trigrams to corroborate his account. His exposition is profound yet clear. How could he have casually invented baseless claims or offered empty theories of no benefit, deceiving those who would cultivate the Dao in later generations?

The Changes is a book that uses images to explain principles. Nothing makes its many vivid symbols more convincing than using principles to confirm their meaning. This way of interpreting them is both profound and clear. How could anyone arbitrarily invent baseless claims, or speak emptily of principles with no real benefit, in order to deceive and confuse people in later generations?

The Changes uses images to illuminate principles. No image makes these principles clearer than the sun and moon. By observing subtle changes in things, we can understand the patterns of change: Yang Qi recedes, and Yin Qi follows. Things cycle and turn like the spokes of a wheel converging on its hub as the wheel keeps revolving. Yin-Yang Qi, too, moves in and out, alternately gathering in and spreading out.

The Yi (Classic of Changes) uses images to explain principles. This is precisely what the earlier text calls “the sun and moon as Yi.” Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), put it this way to explain the changes of Yin and Yang within the human body. The Yin and Yang within us cannot be seen or touched. Ordinary people experience them every day without knowing it. If we do not use concrete images and things to explain them, how can we reveal their mystery and help people understand their changes?

So we look at the world above and below us, where the most obvious and readily seen images are the sun and moon. Their clear, visible forms let us see through the Yin and Yang between Heaven and Earth and grasp in our hearts the mystery of creation and transformation. In this way, the changes that take place every day within the human body, though people are unaware of them, become self-evident.

The sun and moon travel back and forth along the ecliptic, the region of the sky through which the Sun appears to move. They emerge and withdraw, alternately rising and setting, now visible and now hidden. Day and night cycle like a turning wheel, without end. If we turn our attention inward and reason from this, we can understand that the body, too, has its own “sun and moon,” whose workings are no different from those of Heaven and Earth.

Han Xiaoyao, a Daoist practitioner, says in Secret Instructions for Penetrating the Mystery Within: “The Dharma Wheel, which symbolizes the movement of Qi in cultivation, must keep turning. It is within oneself, though people cannot see it. When set in motion, it is like the turning of the solar wheel, which seems to move within my body.” The text also says: “Once the Dharma Wheel turns, do not let it stop. Keep it continually in mind, and it will turn of its own accord.” Why seek it outside the body?

The Yi has 384 lines. Selecting talismans according to the lines means selecting from the sixty-four hexagrams; this is what is meant by “talismans.”

The Book of Changes contains 384 lines, and one jin of the “Great Medicine” is also equivalent to 384 zhu. This passage points out that the alchemical Way and the Way of the Changes are interconnected; this was also why the Cantong qi was written. A line is one of the strokes within a hexagram; a correspondence is the relationship expressed through the arrangement of hexagram images.

The Changes has sixty-four hexagrams. In alchemical methods, Qian and Kun serve as the cauldron vessels, Kan and Li as the medicines, and the remaining sixty hexagrams represent the stages of the firing process. Considered through the transformations of Qian and Kun, the sequence begins with Zhun and Meng and ends with Ji Ji and Wei Ji. The other hexagrams’ inverted and opposite forms—that is, hexagrams formed by turning an image upside down or setting it against its counterpart—fit together in mutual correspondence. This shows that the mutual joining and transformation of Yin and Yang is the Dao. Ancient immortals drew on the images of the lines to select hexagram correspondences, using them to symbolize the cauldron vessels, medicines, and firing process, and arranged them with skill and completeness.

“From the dark of the moon to dawn on the first day, Zhen arrives to receive the correspondence”: from the final dark day of the lunar month to the morning of the first day, the Zhen hexagram appears and receives its corresponding sign. This refers to Qian and Kun joining to form the Zhen hexagram; at dawn on the first day, Zhen comes to receive the correspondence. At this moment, Heaven and Earth join their vital energies, while the sun and moon hold one another in balance.

The dark day and dawn on the first day refer respectively to the end of the lunar month and the morning of its first day. In alchemical terminology, “receiving the correspondence” uses hexagram images to describe the moment when Yin and Yang join and the firing process changes phase.

The end of the month and the first day refer to the transition between the dark moon and the new moon. “The Zhen trigram receives the tally as it arises” means that Qian and Kun join and give rise to the Zhen trigram, symbolizing the first emergence of Yang Qi within the body. At this time, Shen and Qi interact, and Qi and Shen unite, just as Heaven and Earth join and condense their vital essences, and the Sun and Moon meet. Hence the saying: “At this very moment, Heaven and Earth gather their vital essences, and the Sun and Moon join one another.”

The Heaven and Earth spoken of here are one’s own Qian and Kun; the Sun and Moon are one’s own Kan and Li. Only when Heaven, Earth, Sun, and Moon join at the proper time can they bring forth and nurture the myriad things and accomplish the work of the year. Likewise, only when Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li join at the proper time can one seize the workings of creation and form the sacred embryo—the elixir embryo described in Neidan practice. Wei Boyang worried that students might not understand the transformations of Yin and Yang within the human body, so he used the meeting of the Sun and Moon as a metaphor. He did not mean that cultivation can take place only between the dark moon and the new moon each month. The Wuzhen Pian says: “The Sun and Moon meet once every thirty days; understand how to exchange time for a day, and you can perform wondrous work.” If students grasp the subtle meaning of “exchanging time for a day,” they can master the workings of creation in Heaven and Earth and refine the Great Elixir.

“Yang, the male force, spreads the dark essence; Yin, the female force, receives it and brings forth the yellow transformation” means that Yang Qi spreads Heaven’s dark Qi downward to Earth, while Yin Qi receives Heaven’s breath and brings forth and nurtures the myriad things. “Sweet dew descends when Heaven and Earth unite; the yellow sprout grows when Kan and Li join” likewise refers to the union of Heaven and Earth and the exchange between Kan and Li. The formation of the ingredients used in the alchemical method—the vital essences employed in Neidan practice—follows the same principle as Heaven and Earth giving life to the myriad things. Both depend on the two Qi of Yin and Yang: one side gives, the other receives and nurtures; thus the dark and the yellow join.

The two Qi of Yin and Yang meet above and below and blend into one, a state called “Primal Chaos.” Primal Chaos is the original state of Heaven and Earth and the source from which the myriad things are conceived. The alchemical method takes it as its beginning and foundation, holding that the workings by which Heaven and Earth bring forth the myriad things can be experienced within oneself, without seeking outside.

Practitioners must continue to tend and nourish this foundation until it is secure as a fortified city. They then gather their spirit and essence so that the Neidan gradually condenses and takes shape.

“Yin’e” refers to the root and foundation. In alchemical practice, one must work here, gather the light of the mind and spirit, and turn one’s gaze inward. Then Shen will cleave to Qi and become settled, while Qi will cleave to Shen and come to rest. They naturally mingle and coalesce, forming the embryo of the Elixir. If the light of Shen scatters outward and Qi races away like a galloping horse, the sun and moon will lose their proper courses, and Gold and Mercury will be separated in different furnaces. How far, then, would one be from refining the Elixir?

Bai Ziqing says in “Song of the Marrow of the Elixir,” from the Collected Pearls and Jade: “Long ago, I met a master who personally transmitted the oral instructions: simply concentrate Shen and enter the Qi cavity.” This is why the Elixir is called the “Divine Elixir,” and those who attain the fruits of cultivation are called “immortals of Shen.”

The union of Yin and Yang is the source of the ceaseless growth and transformation of all things. This is true not only of human beings but of birds and beasts as well. All things arise from it—even creatures that fly like mosquitoes, wriggle as tiny insects, crawl, or breathe through their beaks are no exception. Hence it is said: “All beings emerge from this; not even wriggling creatures are excluded.” Applied to the human body, this principle can bring forth human life; kept within oneself, it can form the Elixir. The only difference is that sages and ordinary people use it in opposite ways: one follows the natural course, while the other reverses it.

This concludes fascicle one of Elucidations of the Token for the Agreement of the Three.

Confucius praised the primordial state before Heaven and Earth had separated, when chaos first began to open, and held that the qualities of Qian and Kun were profound and clear. A study of the ancient classics shows that the Book of Documents begins with “Examining Antiquity,” the Book of Songs opens with “Guanju,” the Book of Rites gives importance to the capping and marriage ceremonies, and the Spring and Autumn Annals starts its record with the “First Year.” This shows that the sages, in composing the classics, each traced things back to their source and established a point of beginning. If alchemical practice does not investigate its origins, how can it discern Yin-Yang and understand the workings of creation in depth?

The sages did not appear from nowhere. They looked upward and observed the signs displayed by the heavens. The moon moves across the sky and meets the sun once each month; this is called the “Heavenly Tally,” the celestial phenomenon of the sun and moon joining. The Heavenly Tally waxes and wanes, while Yin and Yang alternately contract and expand. After the first day of the month, the moon gradually brightens, symbolizing the growth of the Hun and the decline of the Po, the expansion of Yang Qi and the contraction of Yin Qi. This roughly corresponds to the hours from Zi to Si, from midnight to late morning. After the sixteenth day, the moon gradually dims, symbolizing the growth of the Po and the decline of the Hun, the expansion of Yin Qi and the contraction of Yang Qi. This roughly corresponds to the hours from Wu to Hai, from noon to late evening.

Ancient practitioners observed the Dao of Heaven and followed its movements. Drawing on the waxing and waning of the sun and moon and the changes in the contraction and expansion of Yin and Yang, they established the “fire phases”—the timing and rules for advancing and withdrawing in alchemical practice—to instruct later generations. They regarded Heaven and Earth as the furnace and cauldron, and the sun and moon as the ingredients. As the sun and moon move through Heaven and Earth, appearing and disappearing, they resemble the changing fire phases of alchemical practice. By reflecting on themselves in light of these patterns, practitioners can experience the subtlety of advancing and withdrawing through the fire phases.

The Book of Changes (Yi Jing) encompasses the Heart of Heaven, while the Returning hexagram marks the first stirring of beginnings.

Here, the Book of Changes refers to the principles governing the transformations of Yin and Yang; the “Heart of Heaven” refers to the center of the northern Zi position. “Returning” is the name of a hexagram in the Zhouyi, corresponding to the eleventh lunar month. The winter solstice falls at the heart of the Zi position, so the Returning hexagram symbolizes Yang energy beginning to revive. Shao Kangjie wrote in “A Winter Solstice Poem,” in his Jirang Collection: “At the midpoint of Zi, on the winter solstice, the Heart of Heaven does not shift.” Zhu Xi considered this one of Shao Kangjie’s finest lines.

The Beginning of Winter falls in early lunar October, Minor Snow in mid-October, Major Snow in early November, and the winter solstice in mid-November. Minor Cold falls in early December and Major Cold in mid-December. “The midpoint of Zi, on the winter solstice” means the middle of the eleventh lunar month. People often say that midnight in the Zi period is the moment of the winter solstice. In fact, both the hours before and after midnight belong to the Zi period, a point few people understand. Calendar calculations begin from this crucial point with absolute precision, which is why it is called the “Heart of Heaven.”

Wei Boyang said that the Book of Changes encompasses the Heart of Heaven and that the Returning hexagram initiates beginnings because Yang energy quietly begins to stir during the pure Yin of the tenth lunar month. At first it is concealed in the lowest line of the Kun hexagram. It gradually accumulates, forming the Yang energy of a day, and only afterward becomes visible as the Returning hexagram. People know that the tenth month corresponds to Kun, and that in the eleventh month a Yang line appears beneath five Yin lines to form Returning. Yet they often assume that the Yang line springs from nowhere when the winter solstice arrives. In fact, Yang energy has already begun to stir in Kun’s lowest line by Minor Snow in the tenth month. It grows slowly over the course of a day or a month, and only by the winter solstice has it accumulated enough to fill a whole line and appear as the Returning hexagram.

This account, however, is only a metaphor. The winter solstice represents Returning in the yearly cycle, the first day of the month in the monthly cycle, and the Zi period in the daily cycle. These shifts in the calendar are used to explain the transformations within the human body; they should not be taken as rigidly bound to the year, month, day, or hour. The Cui Xu Pian says: “Thirty days in a month, one day in an hour: the method of cultivating the Elixir takes as its model the workings of Heaven.” The meaning is that a month, a day, or even a single double-hour can illustrate the same pattern of change. Compress the year into a month, the month into a day, and the day into an hour, and even within a single double-hour there is a moment when Yang energy can revive.

This moment does not occur only at the winter solstice, the first day of the month, or the Zi period. Only those who deeply understand the transformations of Yin and Yang between Heaven and Earth can grasp its subtlety.

The eldest son inherits his father’s form and takes root through his mother.

The Qian trigram symbolizes the father. When it joins with the mother, symbolized by the Kun trigram, and settles in Kun’s first line, the Zhen trigram is formed. Zhen represents the eldest son, hence the phrase “the eldest son inherits his father’s form.” Since Zhen arises from Kun’s form, it is like an infant born in the mother’s womb; hence “through his mother, he establishes the foundation of his beginning.” The Wuzhen pian expresses the same idea: “The Golden Lord is originally the son of the eastern household; he is sent to the western neighbor to be born in another’s body.” Once this is understood, one sees that alchemical practice need not seek the winter solstice outside oneself. Yang Qi naturally begins to stir within, so there is no need to cling to the accounts based on year, month, day, and hour.

The waxing and waning of Yin and Yang correspond to the pitch pipes; the ascent and descent of the firing process follow the pivot of the Dipper.

The hours from Zi to Si are called “growth,” meaning that Yang Qi increases; those from Wu to Hai are called “decline,” meaning that Yang Qi recedes. “Growth and decline correspond to the pitch pipes” means that the twelve pitch pipes of ancient musical theory correspond to the year’s twelve months: one pipe changes each month, and all twelve cycle through in a year. The waxing and waning of the firing process in one’s own practice is described by analogy with this cycle. “What moves from below to above is ascent; what moves from above to below is descent.” The Dipper’s pivot star shifts through the twelve double-hours of the day, passing through all twelve branches in a single day; the ascent and descent of the firing process within oneself are likewise described by analogy. The Zhixuan pian says: “In a still and distant place, the pitch pipes change with the seasons; in the shadowed, boundless sky, the Dipper’s bowl turns with the hours.” These are all metaphors drawn from natural images. They do not mean that one must actually use pitch pipes of particular lengths or determine the times for practice by the direction in which the Dipper points.

On the third day, the moon first appears, resembling the Zhen trigram; it receives Geng and lies in the west.

On the third day of the lunar month, the moon’s bright side has just become visible. At dusk it lies in the western Geng position, matching the form of the Zhen trigram. According to the Najia correspondence system, Zhen is assigned to Geng. Interpreted in terms of the firing process in one’s own practice, this is the moment described as “the River Chariot dares not pause even for an instant.” The River Chariot is a Neidan metaphor for the movement of Qi within the body.

On the eighth day, the moon corresponds to the Dui trigram and receives Ding; the first-quarter moon is straight and level like a taut cord.

By the eighth day, the moon is said to have “just begun to shine”: its light is starting to grow bright. At dusk it stands in the west, in the Geng position, and its form corresponds to the Zhen trigram. Thus Zhen is assigned to Geng. In terms of the timing of the inner alchemical fire within the body, this is precisely when the River Chariot is in motion and must not pause for even an instant. “River Chariot” is a term in Neidan (internal alchemy) for the movement of Qi (vital energy) within the body.

On the eighth day, the Dui trigram is assigned to Ding. The moon is then at its first quarter, its face straight and level like a taut cord.

The eighth day marks the first-quarter moon. At dusk, the moon stands in the south, in the Ding position, and its form corresponds to the Dui trigram. Thus Dui is assigned to Ding. This serves as a metaphor for the stage of cultivation when the body’s Yang fire has risen halfway.

By the fifteenth day, the form of the Qian trigram is complete, and the Jia position in the east is full and bright.

On the fifteenth day, the moon stands opposite the sun. At dusk it is in the east, in the Jia position, and its form corresponds to the Qian trigram. Thus Qian is assigned to Jia. This serves as a metaphor for the stage when the Yang fire within the body has reached its fullness.

The toad is the moon’s vital essence, and the rabbit’s soul is the sun’s light. The sun and moon each illuminate their own hours: the sun lights the day, and the moon lights the night. When the sun rises, the moon disappears; when the moon rises, the sun disappears. Their lights take turns through day and night, and their alternating appearances and disappearances are like a person’s breathing. The Scripture of the Yellow Court says, “The sun emerges and the moon enters; the breath remains.” This means that the in and out of the breath correspond to the movements of the sun and moon.

The toad changes in accord with the rhythm of the trigrams, while the rabbit gives forth newly born light.

In Neidan cultivation, the first half of the month is regarded as Yang and corresponds in turn to the Zhen, Dui, and Qian trigrams; the second half is regarded as Yin and corresponds to the Xun, Gen, and Kun trigrams. The moon belongs to Great Yin, and the sun to Great Yang: Yang governs exhalation, while Yin governs inhalation. The moon has no light of its own; it appears bright by receiving the sun’s radiance. Hence the saying, “The rabbit gives forth newly born light.” Here, the images of the toad and rabbit symbolize the moon and sun, and explain the correspondences among Yin-Yang, breathing, and the rhythm of the trigrams.

The cycle represented by the numbers seven and eight has come to an end. The movement of Qi now turns and bends, gradually flowing downward.

Days seven and eight together make fifteen. Yang Fire rises from the direction symbolized by the Zhen trigram. By the fifteenth day, it reaches pure Qian, marking the full culmination of the first half of the month. At this point, the force of Yang has reached its peak; to keep rising would be dangerous, so it must turn and gradually descend. Chen Chaoyuan’s Book of the Jade Fungus says, “Within the ninefold city, the dragon chariot sets out; before the twelve towers, the tiger’s carriage turns back.” This is what the passage means.

On the sixteenth day, Yin begins to take over from Yang. At dawn, it appears at the Xin position associated with the Xun trigram.

On the sixteenth day, the moon begins to wane. At dawn, it appears in the west at the Xin position, and its light has just begun to diminish. Its shape resembles the Xun trigram, which is associated with Xin. In the timing of cultivation within the human body—the regulation of Yin and Yang as they advance and recede—this represents Yin taking over from Yang and the cycle beginning to turn.

The Gen trigram corresponds to the southern Bing position; the last quarter falls on the twenty-third day.

On the twenty-third day, the moon reaches its last quarter. At dawn, it appears in the south at the Bing position, and half its light has faded. Its shape resembles the Gen trigram, which is associated with Bing. This is used as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman in human cultivation, representing the stage when the movement of Yin has descended halfway.

The Kun trigram corresponds to the Yi position; on the thirtieth day, the moon loses its light in the east.

On the thirtieth day, the moon reaches the dark of the moon. At dawn, it appears in the east at the Yi position, and its light has disappeared completely. Its shape resembles the Kun trigram, which is associated with Yi. This is used as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman reaching the end of its course in human cultivation.

When one cycle ends, Yin and Yang take turns succeeding one another. The form that carries this movement then gives rise to the dragon anew.

Wei Boyang divided the month into six stages. From dawn on the first day through the fifth day belongs to the first trigram, associated with Yi; this is used as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman reaching the end of its course in human cultivation.

Wei Boyang divides the thirty days of a month into six phases. The first phase runs from the first to the fifth day and corresponds to the Zhen trigram; the second runs from the sixth to the tenth and corresponds to the Dui trigram; the third runs from the eleventh to the fifteenth and corresponds to the Qian trigram; the fourth runs from the sixteenth to the twentieth and corresponds to the Xun trigram; the fifth runs from the twenty-first to the twenty-fifth and corresponds to the Gen trigram; and the sixth runs from the twenty-sixth to the thirtieth and corresponds to the Kun trigram. When the six phases are complete, the sun and moon meet again at the new moon—the moon returns to the first day of the lunar month, and a new cycle of phases begins. Yang Qi then takes the place of Yin Qi, and the cycle returns to the Zhen trigram. The Zhen trigram has one Yang line below two Yin lines, symbolizing Yang Qi stirring beneath Yin Qi. What else could the creature moving in the depths be but a dragon?

Ren and Gui correspond to Jia and Yi; Qian and Kun encompass beginning and end.

The Qian trigram corresponds to the Heavenly Stems Jia and Ren, while the Kun trigram corresponds to Yi and Gui. Hence the phrase “Ren and Gui correspond to Jia and Yi.” The ten Heavenly Stems begin with Jia and Yi and end with Ren and Gui, hence “Qian and Kun encompass beginning and end.” Here, “Na Jia” means assigning the Heavenly Stems to the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), a method used to explain the regulation of the firing process in alchemical practice—that is, how to judge the timing and stages of cultivation.

The Qian trigram corresponds to Jia and Ren, while the Kun trigram corresponds to Yi and Gui; hence Ren and Gui are paired with Jia and Yi. The Heavenly Stems begin with Jia and Yi and end with Ren and Gui, so Qian and Kun are said to encompass beginning and end. “Receiving the Jia” (najia) uses the Heavenly Stems and trigram images to explain the changing timing of the fire in alchemical practice. The fire’s increase and decrease resemble the waxing and waning of the Moon.

The six trigrams are arranged across a lunar month: Zhen symbolizes the third day, when the Moon appears in the Geng direction; Dui symbolizes the first quarter, when the Moon appears in the Ding direction; Qian symbolizes the full Moon, around the fifteenth day of the lunar month, when the Moon is complete in the Jia direction; Xun symbolizes the sixteenth day, when the Moon begins to wane and can be seen in the Xin direction; Gen symbolizes the last quarter, when the Moon diminishes and can be seen in the Bing direction; and Kun symbolizes the dark Moon at the end of the month, when the Moon disappears in the Yi direction. These lunar phases are used only to explain the advance and retreat of the alchemical timing represented by the six trigrams within the human body. They do not mean that alchemical practice must actually follow a thirty-day schedule.

Why is this so? Because the length of day and night changes over the course of the year. When the days are short, the Sun sets in the hour of Shen; the conjunction of the Moon and Sun, or new moon, also occurs in the hour of Shen, while the full Moon occurs in the hour of Yin. When the days are long, the Sun sets in the hour of Xu, the new moon occurs in the hour of Xu, and the full Moon in the hour of Chen. Across the twelve months, the Moon on the third day does not always appear fully in the Geng direction, nor is the Moon on the fifteenth day always perfectly full in the Jia direction. The new moon can occur earlier or later; the first and last quarters do not necessarily fall exactly on the eighth and twenty-third days; and the full and dark Moons do not necessarily fall precisely on the fifteenth and thirtieth days.

Wei Boyang says, “On the third day the Moon appears, its bright light gradually emerging; the Zhen trigram receives Qi from the Geng direction. On the sixteenth day the Moon changes phase; the Xun trigram receives Qi from the Xin direction, visible at dawn.” He is describing the images associated with the spring and autumn equinoxes, when day and night are equal. This is simply a way to illustrate the principle; it does not mean one must wait for the Moon to appear in the Geng direction before advancing the fire, or retreat the talismanic influence when the Moon wanes in the Xin direction.

Practitioners need only observe the Moon’s waxing and waning, then turn their attention inward: when one Yang first arises within the body, it corresponds to the Zhen trigram and the Moon’s emergence on the third day; as two Yang lines gradually grow, this corresponds to the Dui trigram and the first-quarter Moon on the eighth day; when three Yang lines are complete, this corresponds to the Qian trigram and the full Moon on the fifteenth day. When one Yin first arises, it corresponds to the Xun trigram and the waning Moon on the sixteenth day; as two Yin lines gradually grow, this corresponds to the Gen trigram and the last-quarter Moon on the twenty-third day; and when three Yin lines are complete, this corresponds to the Kun trigram and the Moon’s disappearance at the end of the month. One must not cling rigidly to the directions in which the Moon rises and sets, nor force a one-to-one correspondence between the number of lines in a trigram and the calendar’s calculations of the waxing and waning of the Sun and Moon or the length of day and night.

Najia Diagram

Seven is the number of Fire, and eight the number of Wood; together they make fifteen. Nine is the number of Metal, and six the number of Water; together these also make fifteen. The four numbers total thirty, matching the number of days in a month. At the end of thirty days, the movements of the Sun and Moon converge, and the images of the Changes then disappear. The Chapter on Returning to the Mandate says: “When a month completes one cycle, this is called one turn; when a year undergoes nine returns, it is equivalent to nine turns.” Five and six also add up to fifteen, and the four groups of numbers total thirty. Practitioners calculate the changes in punishment and virtue from the two hexagrams, causing the cycles of five and six to return to Wu and Ji, the Heavenly Stems representing the center and Earth.

Four Images Diagram

This is like the winter solstice, when plants and trees are battered by the cold. At such a time, one should nurture Yang Qi and await the right moment, while the ruler, too, should remain hidden and still. To follow the season, one should keep silent and speak little. The Dao of Heaven is vast and profound; the Great Mystery is beyond description. It is empty, still, and formless, with no outline to be seen. If one misunderstands its meaning and confuses its principles, words will only lead one into error.

In alchemical practice, “Winter Solstice” and “the interval between the waning and new moons” (the turning point between the end and beginning of a lunar month) are both borrowed images for the moment when Yin reaches its peak and Yang begins to arise. Over the course of a month, this is like the final night, when the moonlight vanishes from sight; over the course of a year, it is like midwinter, when the plants and trees have withered away. The two images mean the same thing.

The Book of Changes says, “Thunder hidden within the earth symbolizes the Return hexagram.” For this reason, ancient rulers shut their gates and stayed quietly at home on the Winter Solstice. Merchants and travelers halted their journeys, and the rulers did not tour the regions. This was a way to quietly nurture the life force about to stir and to follow the Dao of Heaven. Yet the Dao of Heaven is vast and boundless, while its true moment of opportunity passes in an instant. The “Great Mystery,” the deep and subtle source, has no shape or form; its secrets lie in what is faint and hard to discern.

So, when Yang is about to arise at the Winter Solstice, the father (a symbol in alchemical practice for the guiding force) must first seal the mouth, clear the mind and spirit, and remain silent, so that “gold” and “mercury” (symbolic terms in alchemical practice) may unite within the crucible in an instant. This is like the sun and moon joining as one: their outward contours are drawn inward and sink into a realm of emptiness and stillness. In this way, spirit and Qi gather together, and only then can the golden liquid congeal. If one forgets to seal the mouth and remain silent, allowing the breath to rush out through the throat, injury and failure will follow.

I have set out these four images to offer guidance to later students who have not yet understood.

The “Four Images” refer to seven, eight, nine, and six. As explained earlier, seven and eight together make fifteen, while nine and six together also make fifteen. Taken together, seven, eight, nine, and six add up to thirty, corresponding to the thirty days of a month. These numbers are only metaphors drawn from things in the world. Wei Boyang was concerned that those studying the Dao might misunderstand their meaning and pass on errors, mistaking the moon’s waxing and waning over the thirty days of a month for the actual timing of the fire process in alchemical practice. He therefore took special care to explain the four numerical images of seven, eight, nine, and six, hoping to help those who had not yet understood see clearly that the thirty-day count is metaphorical. It does not mean that one should actually advance the fire on the third day of each month and withdraw the talisman on the sixteenth.

Zi, Wu, Mao, and You; Zi, Shen, Yin, and Xu; spring, summer, autumn, and winter; the equinoxes and solstices; the beginning and concealment of the seasonal periods; day and night, dawn and dusk; and such ideas as returning and residing—all are metaphors of the same kind. Once those studying the Dao understand that the correspondence between seven, eight, nine, and six and the thirty days of a month is symbolic, they can also grasp the meaning of the other extended metaphors without clinging to words and appearances.

“Arrange the luminous bodies according to the Eight Trigrams; in their movement and turning, they never leave the center” means that the eight directions are set out according to the Eight Trigrams, with the twenty-eight lunar lodges arrayed around them. The sun and moon move within this arrangement, never deviating from the central course. Here, “center” refers to the ecliptic, the region of the sky through which the sun and moon appear to travel. The Wuzhen pian says: “Once the two things are guided back to the ecliptic, how could the numinous Elixir fail to form?” In alchemical practice, one must guard against the mind and spirit becoming scattered and straying outward. By gathering in sight and hearing and allowing the spirit to settle briefly, one can bring the “two things” back to the ecliptic and keep them in the central position. This allows Yin-Yang Qi to join and condense into a dewdrop that falls into the Dantian (energy center). The “two things” here is a technical term in Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to two inner factors that must be regulated and brought together.

Original Jing (essence) is subtle and difficult to perceive. It can be examined only by inference and by observing signs that confirm it.

Original essence, the innate essence and Qi, arises in a deep, obscure place beyond words, so subtle that the eye cannot see it. The Dao De Jing says, “Deep and obscure! Yet within it is essence and Qi; this essence and Qi are utterly real, and within them lie signs of their truth.” This is because the method of refining the Great Elixir accords with the patterns by which Heaven and Earth bring things into being. When the signs of the celestial timing arrive, it is as though a jade bell has been struck and the paired jade grottoes have opened: this is how the moment reveals itself. An ancient song says, “Beneath the primordial blue, moon and sun rise together from either side, and at last unite as one.” If one cannot discern the changes of Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth, or gain a deep understanding of the transformative workings of the Five Viscera, how could one grasp the principle all at once?

In daily life, observe the signs of Heaven and Earth’s movements, and compare them with the patterns and regularities of their forms.

When refining the Elixir, set up a gnomon and a clepsydra outside to determine the times of Heaven’s movement. Within, cultivate the True One—a Neidan term for the primordial Qi gathered in body and mind—to verify the rhythms of your own Qi activity. In this way, you will not miss the moments in Heaven and Earth’s cycles. But inner and outer timing can accord only when the mind is settled and the breath calm. If the mind is confused and the breath hurried, their rhythms will fall into disorder. The spirit of the heart must therefore be brought to stillness.

Set up the gnomon as a standard, observe the moment, and judge what is auspicious or inauspicious.

The fire timing for refining the Great Elixir is not determined by the hours alone. Why, then, set up a gnomon and observe the moment? Precisely because the fire timing must be grasped accurately, it has to be measured.

Set up the gnomon as a standard, observe the moment, and judge what is auspicious or inauspicious.

The fire timing for refining the Great Elixir does not simply follow the hours. The gnomon is set up and the moment observed for fear of missing the juncture when Heaven and humanity respond to one another and move together. If you do not understand the subtle principle and spend the whole day arranging the fire timing by means of the sundial and clepsydra, you will only stray further from the mark.

Issue the command in accord with the season; do not miss the moment when the lines move.

When the Earth-over-Thunder hexagram Fu, symbolizing the return of Yang Qi, stirs and the Xun gate, symbolizing the opening through which Qi enters and exits, opens, the Dragon leaps toward the deep pool in the east. This describes the moment when a single Yang line stirs within the body. At this time, warmth spreads gently and the mind and spirit enter a hazy, ungraspable state. It is just the right moment to advance the fire—a Neidan term for propelling the movement of Yang Qi—and one must not delay. The Collected Pearls and Jades: Treatise on Returning to the Source says, “When the wind of all sounds has just begun to rise and the moon over a thousand mountains is only beginning to grow full, issue the command at once, and the celestial circuit can be set in motion.” This is what it means. The Treatise on Pointing to the Mystery says, “In tranquil radiance, support the Red Child; amid the beat of drums, dispatch the general.” It too speaks of this.

Look upward to examine the Yellow River Chart, study the terrain and flowing waters below, and test what you find against the human heart within. Compare and synthesize the conditions of the Three Powers: Heaven, Earth, and humanity.

In the preface to Inscription on the Three Abodes, Shi Bingzhen says, “The alchemical Way moves with the sun and moon, turning in harmony with the River of Heaven. Its cycle never ceases, and so life has no end.” This means that the Way of the Great Elixir accords with the Way of Heaven.

In Song in Stillness, Shi Bingzhen says, “Its wondrous workings are like rivers, flowing without pause; they nourish the lingzhi mushrooms in the hidden valley and irrigate the waters of the Jade Pool.” This means that the Way of the Great Elixir also accords with the Way of Earth.

How can the Way of the Great Elixir accord with Heaven and Earth? The key lies in silently guiding and mastering its movement within the mind. Those who cultivated the alchemical Way in ancient times looked up to observe the heavens, looked down to examine the earth, and tested what they saw against their own inner experience. They quieted the mind and put the spirit to work, turning the Celestial Gate, a symbol of a vital pivot within the body, and the Earth Axis, a symbol of the foundation of its inner workings. Above, they aligned with the movement of the Milky Way; below, with the rise and fall of the tides. Though Heaven and Earth are vast and the workings of creation are subtle, the light of the sun, moon, and stars, and the arrangements of the Five Phases and the Eight Trigrams can all be contained within oneself. At times they become the furnace and vessel for refining the elixir, at times the ingredients, and at times the regulation of the fire. When one turns to examine oneself, Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—are already complete within. There is no need to leave oneself and seek elsewhere.

In “Contemplating the Changes,” from the Collection of Striking the Earth, it says, “Each thing has its own being, and within every person there is a universe of their own. If you understand that all things are contained within you, why divide Heaven, Earth, and humanity into separate sources? Heaven unfolds the transformations of creation within the body; from the heart, humanity brings the affairs of the world into being. Can the principles of Heaven and humanity really be different? The Dao does not operate in emptiness; it is within the human being.” These words carry profound meaning.

In action, follow the changes in the trigrams; in stillness, follow the images and statements of the Book of Changes.

The Daodejing says: “Bring the heart-mind to the utmost emptiness, and firmly abide in stillness. As the myriad things grow together, observe how they return to their source. Though they flourish and grow, each in the end returns to its root. Returning to the root is called stillness; stillness at its utmost is a return to life’s beginning. This is the principle by which the myriad things return to the source of life.”

The great Golden Elixir within my body is first conceived in utter stillness; it comes into being only when Yin reaches its utmost fullness. The Yijing says: “How great is Kun’s primal virtue! All things rely on it to grow, and it follows the Way of Heaven. The earth of Kun is deep and bears all things; its virtue is vast and boundless.” Kun is the Earth and also the pure Yin hexagram. The earth can receive the breath of Heaven, and so all kinds of plants grow from the soil. In refining the Elixir, one gathers the mind and spirit, turns inward to observe and illuminate, and lets the spirit remain concealed within the body. This resembles the season of pure Yin and the winter, when all things are stored away. The Fuming Pian says: “Those who obtain the true immortal’s instructions refine utmost Yang within Yin.” This is what it means.

Yet after stillness reaches its utmost, movement arises to follow it. In an instant, a single Yang breath stirs beneath the six Yin lines, and the hexagram changes step by step: first it becomes Fu (Return), then Lin (Approach), Tai (Peace), Dazhuang (Great Power), and Guai (Breakthrough), until at last it becomes pure Qian. Yang then spreads throughout the six directions, as though a sun had appeared in a deep pool. Here, the sequence of Yin and Yang waxing and waning in the Yijing illustrates how Yang energy in the Elixir-refining process emerges and gradually grows abundant.

Only through the transformations of Qian and Kun can Heaven and Earth each find their proper order.

The workings of Qian and Kun are embodied in the Kan and Li hexagrams. Heaven and Earth move and transform through the energies of Kan and Li, allowing Yin and Yang to unite and harmonize, thereby giving rise to auspicious Qi. The workings of Heaven and Earth cannot go a single day without Kan and Li; without them, creation and transformation would nearly come to a halt. How could the wondrous workings of the Great Elixir, which take Qian and Kun as their model, differ from the laws by which Qian and Kun operate?

Can one really afford to be careless? It is like a ruler beginning to govern: the utmost care is required.

When a single Yang breath has just stirred and the refining of the Elixir is about to begin, it is like a ruler newly taking charge of affairs. How could one issue commands without care?

Gather and encompass the subtle workings, keeping them close and complete; observe the Qi mechanism as it unfolds and moves, then bestow and reveal the treasure.

A precise method for bringing body and mind under control is to gather the gaze, listen with focused stillness, regulate the breath through the nose, keep the tongue quiet, sit upright with the legs crossed, and calmly draw the spirit back within.

In practice, the mind and spirit should remain settled inwardly, without a single thought wandering outside. When the eyes do not look at external things, the Hun returns to the liver; when the ears do not listen to external sounds, Jing returns to the kidneys; when the tongue makes no sound, Shen returns to the heart; when the nose does not smell scents from the outside world, the Po returns to the lungs; when the limbs do not move, intention returns to the spleen. In this way, Hun, Po, Shen, Jing, and intention do not leak away through the eyes, nose, ears, or limbs. Once all five are gathered without loss, they can blend with one another, transform into a single Qi, and collect in the Dantian, the place within the body where Jing and Qi are refined and cultivated.

When the breath naturally shifts, a sudden understanding arises in the heart. The dragon and tiger, symbols of the Yin-Yang Qi within the body, then burst through the gates and openings, and the channels of practice open in turn. The movement of Qi flows through the body like water.

The key to cultivation lies in “dou.” “Dou” refers to the pivot that sets the Yin-Yang of the whole body in motion and governs all its changes, like the main cord of a net or the clasp of a garment. The upper, middle, and lower Dantian lie in different parts of the body. If one can grasp the mechanism by which the handle of the Dipper turns, allowing true Qi to circulate up and down like the flow of the Celestial River, one has mastered an important method of cultivation. The Pian on Returning to Life says: “Drive back the Northern Dipper to turn the heavens; grasp the Southern Dipper and enter the inner chamber.” This describes an even more essential cultivation formula.

When the images of the hexagram lines stir within, good and ill fortune become visible without.

The Wuzhen pian says: “When Yang Qi first arises within the body, it is easy to grasp; once you reach the stage of drawing in and adding to it, you must be careful to avoid danger.” “The beginning of receiving Qi” means the moment when a single Yang Qi begins to emerge within the body. This is indeed easy to notice and grasp. But if you begin cultivation at that point, even a slight misstep may bring good or ill fortune, regret, or distress. You must therefore be precise down to the smallest detail.

The five stars in the heavens move either in their proper courses or out of alignment, and they respond to changes in the seasons. If the seven lodges in the four quarters move irregularly, signs appear that they have strayed from their paths or are tilting out of balance.

In cultivation, the Qi of the Five Phases must be brought together so that Metal and Fire share the same furnace. The key is, in a single thought, to return to the root and source. If this cannot be done, the various constellations symbolized within the alchemical furnace will fall out of alignment, and the inner and outer heavens will become cut off from one another.

Wenchang oversees records and their administration; the Taifu supervises and corrects. Each official has a specific duty and manages the affairs assigned to them.

The Treatise on the Celestial Offices in the Records of the Grand Historian says that six stars above the bowl of the Northern Dipper are called the Office of Wenchang. To say that Wenchang oversees records is to compare the part within the body that directs and governs with an emperor who rules Heaven and Earth. There is no actual “Office of Wenchang” inside the body; these are all metaphors. In the heavens there are the Three Terraces and Four Aids; in alchemical practice, there are the Three Dragons and Four Tigers. To say that the Taifu supervises and corrects means that the sequences of time associated with Jia and Yi must not be confused, and those associated with Geng and Xin must not deviate. Each star in the heavens has its own celestial region; in alchemical practice, the various trigrams are coordinated with the firing times. The image of every official carrying out a distinct duty means that the twenty-eight lodges are arranged according to the twenty-four solar terms of the year, and the furnace’s firing times and advances and retreats are calculated in fine detail. This shows that the many phenomena in the heavens all have their counterparts within the cultivator’s own body.

The sun contains the essence of the Five Phases, while the moon follows the sequence of the Six Pitch Pipes. Five multiplied by six makes thirty degrees; when the cycle reaches its end, it begins again.

The sun symbolizes fire, and the moon symbolizes the medicine. The Ten Heavenly Stems divide into five firm and five yielding stems; the twelve pitch pipes divide into six Yin and six Yang. Here, Yin-Yang, the Five Phases, and the calendrical system are used to explain alchemy: the sun moves one degree each day, and after completing thirty degrees it intersects with the moon. Then the cycle begins again, continuing without end.

“To trace the beginning and reach the end, observing the threads of arising and perishing” means watching the first signs of Yin and Yang waxing and waning from the start of the month to its close. As the month draws to an end, Yin has not yet fully faded; Yang is about to arise but has not yet truly appeared. In the text, however, “dark moon” and “new moon” chiefly serve as metaphors for the turning points where Yin and Yang transform; they do not refer specifically to the end of a lunar month and its first day.

In alchemical practice, the ruler symbolizes Shen (spirit), and the ministers symbolize Qi (vital energy). Once lead and mercury are placed in the earthen crucible, the practitioner should settle both body and mind: bodily movement scatters Qi, while an agitated mind scatters Shen. Only by concentrating Shen and gathering Qi, and by keeping thought in accord with the breath, can the “spiritual embryo” form—a sign in Neidan (internal alchemy) of Jing (essence) and Qi condensing together. If the mind is allowed to run wild and the rules are violated, Qi too will become disordered, like the moon’s phases waxing and waning irregularly, bringing danger. “Those who enforce the laws will criticize the faults; the consequences of error will fall upon the ruler” means that those charged with upholding the rules will censure wrongdoing, but the blame ultimately rests with the ruler. In the alchemical metaphor, when Shen fails to remain in its proper place, responsibility lies with the Shen that governs the body and mind.

“May the Pole Star remain in its proper place, at ease and letting those below act freely” means that the Pole Star rests in its rightful position, calmly allowing the other stars to keep their places. By analogy, whoever occupies the leading position should remain upright and steady, so that all the parts below can each follow their proper order.

The Fuming Pian says: “The Northern Dipper and the stars of the south seem to lie between the eyebrows and eyelashes. Let the mind grow still and set water and fire in motion; once the breath is settled, seek the true lead.” “True lead” is a term in Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to the true essence that is to be refined and condensed. “Essence and Qi are the foundation; spirit and numinous presence belong to one family. If you can gather in the Five Thieves—the five desires or sensory activities that dissipate essence, Qi, and spirit—the Three Flowers, symbolizing the concentration of essence, Qi, and spirit, will naturally coalesce.” When a person draws in the light of the spirit and settles into silent stillness, the key is to let thoughts continue without interruption while remaining faint and indistinct, following their natural course and not exhausting the spirit.

“Conducting affairs in the Bright Hall, the state suffers no harm” means that, just as a ruler issues decrees in the Bright Hall, the state will be free from obstruction. Applied to cultivation, it means that when the inner spirit is settled and shines throughout, all parts of body and mind can function freely.

The Records of the Grand Historian, in its “Treatise on the Celestial Offices,” says that the eastern constellations form the Azure Dragon, which includes the Room and Heart mansions; the Heart mansion is called the “Bright Hall.” In the human body, the Bright Hall corresponds to inner regions such as the Grotto Chamber, Purple Pole, and Numinous Gate. The Huangting Jing says: “Between the Bright Hall, Golden Coffer, and Purple Chamber, the Perfected of Highest Clarity stands before me; within my heart is the Yellow-Robed Child, and cinnabar Qi flows again and again. Where is it? Between the eyebrows.” This refers to the location of the Grotto Chamber, Purple Pole, and Numinous Gate. The inner radiance of the spirit shines down from here, like a ruler seated in the Bright Hall issuing decrees that reach in all directions. This is the same idea expressed in the Fuming Pian: “The Grotto Gate remains ever still and radiant; Penglai Island is held in everlasting spring.”

“To nurture oneself inwardly, in peace, stillness, and emptiness” means to cultivate oneself within, bringing the mind to a state of calm, quiet, and openness. Wang Chongyang’s Quanzhen Ji says: “The wondrous use of the Mysterious Pass is not hard to find; it lies in silence and stillness, without words.” When the mind is calm and empty, the Dao naturally comes to dwell there; when stillness and emptiness reach their utmost, the original Yang true Qi returns.

“To conceal the original and withdraw outward brightness, turning inward to illuminate the body” means returning to the root, drawing in the light that shines outward, and turning one’s gaze inward to observe the body. The Quanzhen Ji says: “If you wish to become attuned, you must seek the original source; if you wish to see, you should look within.” Returning to the root and source, and turning the light inward, are important methods of cultivation. Early Confucian scholars once said that Daoist methods of nourishing life consist in drawing back the gaze and gathering in the hearing, so that essence and Qi, like the radiance of metal and water, remain hidden within the body. This is indeed so.

Seal the mouth so that Qi does not scatter and escape upward; secure the numinous root—that is, the lower Dantian or the foundation for refining and nourishing Jing and Qi—so that Qi does not leak away below. Yang Xiong’s Taixuan Jing says, “Hide the mind and spirit in a stillness as deep as an abyss, and the numinous root will flourish.” This means that when the mind and spirit do not race outward, peaceful Qi fills the whole body, and inner goodness comes to light.

The Three Lights—the sun, moon, and stars as images of radiance—sink inward and gently nourish the child pearl, the precious inner essence formed through internal alchemy. The Three Lights are numinous images within the Grotto Chamber, an inner palace described in Daoist cultivation. If a person can gather in the Three Lights and turn their radiance back within, a Mysterious Pearl, a symbol of internal alchemy, can coalesce in the central position. The Huangting Jing says, “The numinous images in the Grotto Chamber are the Dipper constellation, the sun, and the moon; the Three Lights shine brightly into the chamber of the child.” Those who understand the principle can contemplate it carefully.

You look for it, yet cannot see it; it is close at hand and easy to seek. The great medicine of the Golden Elixir is right before you—how could it be far away? Yet because it cannot be seen or touched, what is close beside you seems as distant as the horizon. If you seek it according to the methods of cultivation, it can appear before you in just a short time. How could that be far away? The Wuzhen Pian says, “The work is easy, and the medicine is not far away.” Once this is explained, people laugh: it is plainly right before them, yet they insist on searching in distant places. The Fuming Pian says, “Clearly it is right before their eyes; only the people of the world cannot see it for themselves.” Because they cannot see it, they abandon themselves and seek outward. Some gather and refine the essence of the sun and moon; some prepare metals, minerals, and plants; others practice sexual techniques. This is precisely to seek far away when the Dao is near, and to make difficult what is naturally easy—a truly regrettable thing.

The Yellow Center—the central place within the body, also known as the central palace in internal alchemy—gradually opens through the channels and their pathways. Nourishing Qi moistens the whole body, reaching all the way to the skin. Once something has formed in the Dantian, the movement of Qi flows freely. A state of peace and ease gathers within, and its essence becomes visible without.

When the Dantian—the place within the body where Neidan practice cultivates and nourishes—is home to the true substance, Qi can flow freely throughout the body. When the inner self is harmonious and full, its essence naturally shines outward.

Only when the beginning is upright can the result be brought to completion; only when the foundation is firmly established can the branches find support. When the surface is level, the shadow is straight; when the source is deep, the stream runs long. Grasp this “One,” and you grasp the key to all things.

This “One” is veiled layer upon layer, and few people in the world know it.

The root of the Great Dao lies in the One Qi, from which all the transformations of the myriad things arise. Described in terms of division, it is black and white, blue and yellow; described by analogy, it is the sun and moon; named symbolically, it is the dragon and tiger. Though the names are many, they all speak of Yin-Yang, and at root they are still one thing. Names such as spirit water, Flower Pond, lead furnace, and earth cauldron also all point to the same place.

Some say the key to cultivation lies at the winter solstice, at the hour of Zi; others say it lies at the transition between the dark moon and the new moon—that is, between the end and beginning of the lunar month. Those who do not understand consult almanacs and calculate the hours, thinking they need only find the right dates and times. This is a profound misunderstanding. They fail to see that a year can be gathered into a month, a month into a day, and a day into an hour; within a single hour are also contained the transformations of a year and a month. Yet one hour is itself a place of cultivation, and that place of cultivation is itself the one fundamental thing.

Thus the winter and summer solstices, the spring and autumn equinoxes, Mao and You, Jia and Geng, the dark moon, new moon, first quarter, and full moon, Zi, Wu, Si, Hai, Zi, Shen, Yin, and Xu; the twenty-four solar terms and seventy-two pentads; the joining of Qi through the year and the cycles of the moon; as well as Li and Kan, rabbit and rooster, Xun and Qian, two and eight, the morning Hexagram Zhun and evening Hexagram Meng, and the daytime Hexagram Jian and nighttime Hexagram Fu—all these accounts of change are contained within this “One.” Such terms borrow from the calendar, directions, and hexagrams to explain the changes of Yin-Yang; they are not all meant to be matched literally to particular times or places.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “Later generations still seek everywhere, sorting through countless claims that seem right but are not. No one knows where the true ‘One’ is; the paths they follow are all side roads, not the true Dao.” How many people in the world can truly understand this “One”?

The second juan of Elucidations of the Zhouyi Cantongqi ends here.

Note on textual emendations: The text has been corrected or supplemented according to the Siku Quanshu edition in such words and phrases as “hermitage,” “constrict,” “at,” “continuation of the body,” “breaking through the pass,” “net,” “Crimson Palace,” and “Kun and Qian.” The remaining entries also record differences between the original edition and the Siku Quanshu edition.

Elucidations of the Zhouyi Cantongqi, Juan Three

Written by Yu Yan, the Complete Yang Master, a mountain recluse of Linwu

Third Section of the Upper Part

The highest De (Virtue/Power), lofty in conduct, is Wuwei (non-action); it is not attained through close scrutiny or deliberate striving. The lower De is active, and so its function never ceases.

The Daodejing says, “The highest De does not act and has no intention in acting; the lower De acts and has an intention in acting.” Here, “the highest De is Wuwei, and does not seek through scrutiny” means that a person’s spirit remains in the Mysterious Palace—a term used in cultivation for the place within where Qi and Shen reside—quiet and still, without deliberate action. “The lower De acts, and its function does not cease” means that the movement of Qi continues without interruption.

The Dao De Jing says, “A person of the highest De (Virtue/Power) follows nature and does not deliberately act; a person of inferior De acts and has a definite aim.” Here, “the highest De practices Wuwei (non-action)” means cultivating without relying on observation or pursuit. Instead, the Original Spirit—the fundamental spirit within the human body that governs mental activity—remains in the Mysterious Palace, the cultivation site around the Upper Dantian, in silent stillness. “Inferior De acts” means that its activity continues without interruption, setting Qi (vital energy) in motion through the Palace of the Female, the cultivation site around the Lower Dantian. These words of Laozi are used to reveal the mysteries of the two cultivation sites, Kan and Li.

“When the upper is closed, it is called ‘being’; when the lower is closed, it is called ‘nonbeing.’ Nonbeing nourishes the upper, where divine De resides.” Closing the upper is called “being,” and closing the lower is called “nonbeing.” Nonbeing nourishes the upper because divine De dwells there. In the cultivation methods for these two cavities, “being” and “nonbeing” depend on one another.

“When the upper is closed, it is called ‘being’” means that the Li Palace, the cultivation site corresponding to the Li trigram, has a visible form and conceals true water within. “When the lower is closed, it is called ‘nonbeing” means that the Kan Gate, the cultivation site corresponding to the Kan trigram, is formless and conceals the Red Dragon within. To nourish the upper with “nonbeing” means that when the Original Spirit remains in its proper place, Qi rises along with it. The subtlety of upper cultivation lies in firmly closing the Eight Gates, which symbolize the openings through which Qi moves in and out of the body.

The Wuzhen pian says, “The eldest son suddenly drinks the wine of the West; the young maiden begins to open the flower of the North. Once the green maiden has met him, immediately lock up the Yellow House.” “Yellow House” here refers to the place in the Upper Dantian where the Original Spirit resides. Thus, the key to upper cultivation is to close and lock the apertures.

In the cultivation methods for these two cavities, “being” and “nonbeing” must also work together: if the lower is not closed, the fire cannot gather; if the upper is not closed, the medicine cannot rise. The Wuzhen pian says, “Send it back to the earthen cauldron and seal it tightly; then draw in the flowing pearl and bring it into union with it.” The two must therefore work together for cultivation to succeed. What are the “flowing pearl” and the “earthen cauldron”? They are other names for the Kan and Li cultivation sites.

“Know the white, keep to the black, and divine clarity will come of itself.” “White” refers to Metal essence; “black” refers to the foundation of Water.

White represents Metal, and black represents Water. The methods of the Elixir (Neidan, or internal alchemy) take Water as their foundation, while Metal Essence—the subtle, pure vital essence—arises from Water. Therefore, the key to obtaining white lies in holding fast to black; when black is held fast, white appears of itself.

How is it held fast? Like a cat crouching at a hole, waiting for a mouse: its body does not move, its eyes do not blink, and its mind attends only to the mouse, with no other thought. This means that in cultivation one should gather the spirit in focused attention, with the mind undistracted.

“Numinous clarity” refers to the celestial mechanism, the inner principle by which nature operates. To apprehend this mechanism, one should first make the mind empty and still. When the mind is empty, the spirit can gather; when the spirit gathers, the breath settles; when the breath settles, Yin and Yang rise together and combine into the measure of “one catty,” and numinous clarity arrives of itself.

The “Far Journey” section of the Li Sao says: “Do not disturb your hun soul; it will follow its own course. The focused Qi is wondrous indeed; preserve and nourish it at midnight. Wait for it in emptiness and stillness; do not act ahead of it.” This means the same as the passage above. Master Zhu Ziyang, the commentator, says that these are precisely the principles Guangchengzi taught the Yellow Emperor. They are indeed an essential secret of immortal cultivation.

Water is the pivot of the Dao, and in numerical terms it is called “one.” It is the beginning of Yin and Yang, and conceals the Yellow Sprout, a Neidan term for the subtle substance that symbolizes the first stirrings of life in the alchemical process. It governs the Five Metals and is the northern River Cart, a Neidan term for the force or method that sets vital essence in motion. Thus lead is black on the outside, yet within it contains Golden Flower, the radiant splendor that symbolizes Metal Essence. This is like wearing coarse cloth while carrying a precious jade within: outwardly ordinary, even dull, yet inwardly concealing something of great worth.

Water is the pivot of the Dao’s movement and the starting point from which Yin-Yang comes into being. Why is this so? Heaven’s One gives birth to Water, which stands first among the Five Phases. When Water’s One joins with Earth’s Five, they form Water’s completed number. This may symbolize that Yellow Sprout is contained within the mysterious. “The mysterious contains Yellow Sprout” means that Lead is born within Water. Lead is the chief of the five metals. It dwells in the deep, dark mystery of the north, and when it receives Earth, Yellow Sprout emerges. Yellow Sprout is Golden Flower, a symbol of the essence within Lead. Lead is black on the outside, with Golden Flower hidden within, like a treasure concealed in an ordinary person’s embrace.

The “River Cart” of the north is the Imperial Cart. It is called the River Cart because it turns and travels along with the Celestial River. True Lead is born from Water. Once it has been revealed through the tempering of true Fire, the River Cart does not pause for an instant but carries it to the summit of Kunlun Peak. Here, terms such as “Lead,” “Golden Flower,” and “River Cart” describe the formation and movement of the ingredients in Neidan (internal alchemy); they do not refer simply to ordinary minerals or vehicles.

Metal gives birth to Water, so Metal is called the mother of Water. Water is Metal’s offspring. Metal hidden in Water is like a mother carrying a child in her womb, or a child enclosed within its mother. When practitioners understand the meaning of “Metal within Water,” they can understand where the ingredients come into being.

The True Person—here referring to the Original Spirit—is subtle and mysterious, seeming both present and absent. It gathers in the Great Abyss, sinking at times and rising at others. “Seeming to exist and yet not to exist” means that it continues without interruption, as though present, but is not deliberately forced. The “Great Abyss” refers to a far-reaching, hidden and subtle place. The True Person moves back and forth within the Great Abyss, its traces faint and its rising and sinking uncertain. Xiao Zixu’s Collected Works on the Great Accomplishment of the Golden Elixir says: “On Kunlun Mountain, the Yellow Flower path; it sometimes leads the Original Spirit away and brings it back.” The Great Abyss mentioned here is Kunlun.

Advance and retreat each follow their own order. They move separately, each remaining in its corresponding position.

The method of alchemical refinement proceeds from “Zi” (midnight) and turns to retreat at “Wu” (noon). Advance and retreat each have their own boundaries and proper domains; they must not be confused. Yang Xubai’s Ode to the Purity of the Golden Elixir says, “Before the furnace at Zi and Wu, advance and retreat are distinguished; within the cauldron of Qian and Kun, floating and sinking are kept apart.” This is what it means.

At the time of gathering, the elixir substance is white; after refinement, it turns vermilion.

“White” here refers to white metal, while “vermilion” refers to vermilion mercury. The “white” gathered at the outset is white metal taken from the northern Kan Palace to serve as the mother of the elixir. White metal and vermilion mercury belong to the same category and can work together. The claim that refinement turns it vermilion means that fire phases are applied each day to draw out its lead vapors, then mercury is added. Chen Momo’s Treatise on Upholding Orthodoxy also discusses using white metal from the northern Kan Palace as the mother of the elixir, along with applying fire to draw out lead and add mercury.

The text also says: “Guard within the northern gate, where the River Cart resides; from the beginning, Heaven’s One is water and comes first. To join the tallies, one must have the fire of the celestial circuit; the principle is like crossing a river by boat. With effective transport, it works day and night; in its wondrous turning, it embodies the pivot and the ring. When those of high attainment in elixir cultivation understand this, they will recognize that true lead does not require lead.” This means that alchemical refinement requires inner guarding and circulation to work in concert with the fire phases of the celestial circuit, turning continuously day and night like the motions of the heavens. Only by understanding this can one see that “true lead” does not mean using actual lead. Those who study alchemy may know only how to combine lead and mercury to form the medicine, without understanding the work of applying fire to draw out lead and add mercury. Even if they form an elixir seed, it may dissipate and fail to become stable.

Refining the elixir means protecting it with fire phases applied from outside, while allowing it to rest securely within the inner furnace.

“Refined as an outer guard” means using true fire in the outer furnace; “white wrapped in its abiding place” means placing the Golden Elixir in the inner furnace. Once the elixir is in the inner furnace, it still requires the fire of the outer furnace to refine and nourish it day and night until it matures. Hao Guangning’s Collection from High Antiquity says: “At the crown, the pearl of Li revolves and its light appears of itself; in the abdomen, a hidden treasure is stored, and the medicine rests in peace.” This means that light like a Li pearl circulates at the crown, while an elixir like a hidden treasure is stored in the abdomen. It describes fire phases operating outside and the elixir resting within.

The “one-inch square” place refers to the Mudball Palace (Niwan gong), located in the head and regarded in Neidan cultivation traditions as the dwelling place of the Original Spirit. Some explain “square inch” as referring only to the heart, unaware that within each of the body’s three Dantian (energy centers)—upper, middle, and lower—there is a one-inch space of emptiness, and that their Qi channels are interconnected.

“Blending together and mutually supporting one another” refers to the nine palaces in the head, among which the Mudball Palace is situated. The Scripture of the Yellow Court says: “The nine perfected ones of the Mudball each have their chambers; within this, a place one inch square and round.” In other words, the Mudball Palace contains dwellings for the nine perfected ones. Saying that it “was born before Heaven and Earth” means that this aperture of the Mudball Palace is regarded as the root of all the body’s apertures. According to this cultivation view, when this aperture opens, the others open along with it. “Lofty and supremely exalted” means that the Mudball Palace is at the summit of Mount Kunlun, the dwelling place of the Original Spirit. It corresponds above to the Mysterious Capital, the celestial palace of Daoist belief, and is also where the gods gather.

“Ramparts and gateways stand around it” means that the seven apertures are arrayed around the Mudball Palace, while inner landscapes such as the Grotto Chamber and Yellow Gate lie before it. “Its form resembles Penghu” means that it is like Penglai, one of the three divine mountains in the sea. “Enclosed all around and shut fast” refers to drawing back the gaze, focusing the spirit and listening inwardly, and carefully gathering in the senses of sight, hearing, and speech. “The four passages wind and turn” means that Original Harmony—the body’s balanced primordial Qi—moves within the body, allowing a single Qi to flow freely; the Vermilion Bird, a divine bird symbolizing Yang Qi, travels back and forth through places such as the Jade Terrace.

“To guard and protect it with firm secrecy” means guarding the inner Jing (essence) and the intent of the Shen (spirit) with the single-mindedness of a dragon protecting a pearl, and maintaining an uninterrupted breath like a hen incubating an egg. “To close off and cut away evil intrusions” means blocking the invasion of external evils; even when various disturbances arise, one should subdue them through focused intent. “The winding chambers connect with one another, as a safeguard against the unforeseen” means carefully guarding the successive layers of apertures against unexpected events. Whenever the spirit and intent stray outward, they should be promptly drawn back, allowing the Twin Youths, divine figures who guard the grotto gate, to keep watch there continuously, just as a hen keeps steadily to her egg.

The mind can be free of distracting thoughts, yet still find it hard to withstand sorrow and hardship.

In the Collected Works of Water and Clouds, Tan Changzhen, a Daoist figure, says: “Do not let even the slightest distracting thought lodge in the heart. Only when an inner spirit embryo—the Neidan spoken of in cultivation—has formed can you master the Way of becoming an immortal.” When the mind follows Wuwei (non-action), the breath becomes calm; when the breath is calm, the inner treasure can condense. When the mind is intent on action, the breath becomes disordered; when the breath is disordered, essence dissipates. So one can keep distracting thoughts from arising, but cannot let oneself sink into sorrow and hardship.

Shen and Qi fill the body and mind, but that alone does not mean they can be retained. Those who preserve Shen and Qi flourish; those who lose them decline. Whether a person is moving, still, or resting, Shen and Qi remain with them.

When cultivation has truly accumulated deeply and endured over time, the body and mind become filled with the Qi of Great Harmony, a calm and harmonious primordial energy. Whether moving, still, or resting, one must guard it carefully. Those who preserve it flourish; those who lose it decline. It must not be allowed to depart for even a moment.

These methods are not orthodox practices for storing Shen. They involve deliberately forming thoughts during inner observation; performing ritual steps known as walking the astral pattern to enter the positions of the stars; calculating auspicious times according to the Six Jia, a system based on the sexagenary cycle and Daoist divination; and using Yin practices to perform rites of suppression, thereby disturbing the primordial cells, the foundation of primordial Qi. When practitioners regulate their breathing, their stomachs growl, yet they expel righteous Qi and inhale malign influences. They stay awake day and night and restlessly continue for entire months. Their bodies grow more exhausted by the day, and their minds become dazed, as if deranged. Qi and blood surge through their channels, leaving them unable to become calm and clear.

They build earthen altars and make offerings to the gods morning and evening. They see apparitions of ghosts and spirits and are moved by them in dreams. Their hearts fill with joy, and they believe they will surely prolong their lives, yet they soon die young, their bodies rotting away. These practices repeatedly violate the right path and go against the essentials of cultivation. Such techniques are numerous, numbering in the thousands and tens of thousands. They depart from the Way of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, wandering into deviant paths and going against the Nine Capitals, the Daoist heavenly realm or dwelling place of immortals.

There are three thousand six hundred methods for cultivating health, and dozens of schools associated with them. Their variety is too great to list one by one. For example, closing the eyes and turning inward to visualize the five organs in sequence; stepping through ritual paces and treading the stars while offering sacrifices to the spirits of the Heavenly Stems according to the day—can these really be the true path of cultivating the Golden Elixir?

Some practice sexual techniques, treating “nine shallow thrusts and one deep” as a matter of controlling the firing process, but end up disrupting their reproductive functions. Others practice breath control, taking the exhalation of stale Qi and inhalation of fresh Qi to be the medicine, but end up with hollow rumbling in the stomach and intestines. Some sit motionless in empty stillness day and night, enduring without sleep; others train themselves to exhaustion, heedless of bodily fatigue. Still others toss their heads and clench their fists, driving the Qi within them into a turbulent surge, and even fall ill with paralysis, sores, or carbuncles.

Some pile up earth to build an altar and pray morning and evening, only to dream at night of ghosts coupling and become entangled in demonic influences. At first they rejoice inwardly, believing this will prolong their lives; yet some die halfway through, and in the end their bodies still decay. All these practices violate proper methods of cultivation. They plainly contradict the writings of the Yellow Emperor and depart entirely from the purpose of the Lord Lao. When people cling to delusion and refuse to wake from it, who else can they blame when calamity follows?

For this reason, Wang Liangqi wrote The Song for Breaking Delusion, and Chen Niji wrote The Rhapsody of Mount Luofu. In two or three thousand characters, they pointed out one by one the errors in the various deviant methods of cultivation found in the world. They did so out of concern that later generations might fail to receive the true transmission and stray onto crooked paths. If students of the Dao today read the writings of Wang and Chen, they will naturally see the mistakes in them and reflect on their own practices.

Those who understand will grasp their meaning and suddenly see clearly where to begin.

Wei Boyang wrote the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) … Those who understand will grasp its meaning and suddenly see clearly where to begin.

Wei Boyang, traditionally regarded as the author of the Cantong qi, wrote this book as a lamp on a dark road and a compass on a bewildering sea. He hoped that perceptive people in later generations would grasp its meaning through its words, suddenly see the way forward, and understand the methods and reasons for cultivation. Wei Boyang’s intention can be called benevolent. Yet some treat the words in the book as nothing more than writing on a page and refuse to reflect on them seriously. They are truly giving up of their own accord—is that not a pity?

Cultivate diligently, without slackening in the morning or evening.

Qiu Changchun says in the Collection for Awakening to the Dao: “Cultivation does not succeed simply by sitting and cutting away dullness, nor can it be completed by making one’s practice contrived and artificial.” Cultivating the Nine-Turn Golden Liquid Great Elixir differs from the lesser methods of the side paths, which seek only a small measure of ease. Success requires withdrawing from worldly affairs, devoting oneself wholeheartedly, and practicing diligently day and night.

Peng Zhenyi also says that a resolute practitioner must distance himself from sensual pleasures, give up habits and desires, relinquish fame and profit, go to a numinous mountain, break off ordinary associations, make friends with immortals, live in seclusion and cultivate in quiet, and persist day and night. Only then may he hope to succeed; without these things, he is merely wasting his effort. Peng Zhenyi makes this quite clear. Some people fail to understand the point and think that the two shichen spent each day should serve as the alchemical firing times. When they hear that one must continue for five days and nights without rest, they are astonished and laugh, finding it exhausting and troublesome. This shows that they have not given the matter serious thought.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “Those who cling to one-sided views cannot attain the true Dao; to practice in the morning and stop by evening cannot be called sincerity.” Thus one should not readily believe the claim that only two shichen each day are needed as firing times.

In the past, Huangfu Lidao saw Wang Sanyi laying out counting sticks and a pot, and asked, “What are these for?” Wang Sanyi replied, “To mark the exact times of Zi and Wu.” Huangfu Lidao said, “Practice should be uninterrupted throughout all twelve shichen. Why limit it to Zi and Wu?” In general, the way of the Elixir and the Way of Heaven are one and the same. At what moment does the Way of Heaven cease its movement? Since it never stops for even an instant, how could the way of the Elixir be interrupted for a moment?

Ma Danyang says in the Collection on Gradual Awakening: “The master’s kindness is so great that it can never be repaid. I vow to remain within the encircling walls until death, cultivating the utmost true Way.” “Encircling walls” here refers to a place where outside visitors are kept away so that one can devote oneself to cultivation.

After three years of cultivation, one can make long journeys with a lightened body; crossing flames will not burn one, and entering water will not wet one’s clothes. One can appear or disappear, and from then on enjoy lasting peace and freedom from sorrow. Once the Way has been perfected and De fulfilled, one withdraws into seclusion and awaits the proper time. When the Great One (Taiyi), a revered deity in Daoism, summons one, one then moves to another place.

After taking the elixir for three years, one can lighten the body, ascend by flight, and travel freely over great distances. One can cross raging flames without being burned and enter water without getting one’s clothes wet. One can control for oneself whether one lives or dies, and so enjoy lasting happiness without worry. Once the Dao is realized and De brought to fulfillment, one should first live in seclusion and await the right time. Taiyi, a revered Daoist deity, will then summon one to dwell in the Central Continent. When one’s merit and virtue are complete, one ascends to Heaven and receives its talismanic commands and registers.

The elixir can sometimes be formed in an instant, yet the scripture also says that three years must pass after taking it. Why? The Cui Xu Pian says, “Work performed in an instant brings forth a manifestation of cultivation; but for it to truly mature, three years are still required.” The work done in an instant refers to forming the elixir. The three years mean that after a year of indoor cultivation, one must continue to nurture it gently and not go out at once. Zhongli Zhengyang says in the Thirty-Nine Chapters on Explaining the Mysterious that the elixir is like a young child who has not yet grown and must rely on the “Lady Mother”—a metaphor for the nurturing of the elixir embryo. This is precisely what he means.

After three years of gentle nurturing, the practitioner’s body becomes light as smoke and clouds, and they move as swiftly as if flying, able to ascend and travel far. Even when floods surge to the heavens, they will not drown; even in a great drought, when metal and stone melt and earthen hills scorch, they will not feel the heat. They control for themselves whether they live or die, and so enjoy lasting happiness without worry. Yet once the nurturing is complete, they should still live in seclusion among ordinary people, accumulate merit, and help others escape delusion before departing in a carefree ascent. Zhu Linggen’s instruction to Huangfu Lüdao to guide later students, and the Immortal of Jinhua Cave’s warning to Yang Xubai not to withdraw alone but to do good and aid the many, both express this principle: having attained immortality, how could one think only of oneself?

The Fire Record was not written without foundation; it explains the principles involved through its interpretation of the Yi Jing.

The ancients left behind six hundred chapters of the Fire Record. Why are there so many? Peng Zhenyi says in The Golden Key to Returning the Elixir that all six hundred chapters of the Fire Record are similar. In this light, the so-called six hundred chapters can also be understood as an elaboration of the sixty hexagrams. In brief, the Fire Record’s number is sixty hexagrams; developed further, it becomes six hundred chapters. The sixty hexagrams correspond to the seasonal changes of one month, while the six hundred chapters correspond to those of ten months. Thus the Fire Record was not made up out of thin air; it draws on the Changes to develop and explain its ideas.

Use a crescent-shaped vessel as the cauldron and furnace, and the White Tiger—a term in alchemy symbolizing Metal or a Yin substance—as the key to the refining process. Mercury, known in everyday speech as quicksilver and also used symbolically in alchemy, is like flowing pearls; the Azure Dragon, an alchemical term symbolizing Wood or a Yang substance, accompanies it. When the Azure Dragon of the East is joined with the White Tiger of the West, the Yin and Yang souls they symbolize naturally unite.

The Crescent Moon Furnace refers to the lead furnace. It corresponds to the Kan position, where the White Tiger—a symbolic term in alchemical practice—resides. The Flowing Pearl Palace refers to the mercury cauldron. It corresponds to the Li position, where the Azure Dragon resides. Saying that the White Tiger governs the firing means that the White Tiger lies hidden in the Dantian (the place within the body where inner cultivation is practiced), and that fire arises below the navel. Saying that the Azure Dragon joins with the White Tiger means guiding the Azure Dragon downward to meet the White Tiger.

East and west refer to Kan and Li; the hun and po are metaphors for the sun and moon. The places where the Dragon and Tiger move, and the sources from which lead and mercury arise, are fundamentally one and the same. The Secret of the Great Elixir of the Red Dragon says: “If you can discern how the Azure Dragon follows the White Tiger, you will also know that mercury is within lead.” If practitioners understand the method for guiding the Azure Dragon to meet the White Tiger, they will also understand the expression “casting mercury into lead.” The Treatise on Returning to One’s Mandate says: “The master points out the Azure Dragon mercury, so that it may be joined with the White Tiger lead; once the two meet, they are cultivated for many years through water and fire.” It also says: “Once Dragon and Tiger meet, it is like lovers coming together in spring; as soon as Kan and Li join, an Elixir embryo forms. It is as though one were gathering the essence of Heaven and Earth, seeking it with single-minded focus, then taking it and consuming it.”

The essentials of alchemical practice are quite simple: bring together the hun, symbolized by the Azure Dragon in the east, and the po, symbolized by the White Tiger in the west. Then east and west are no longer separated; Dragon and Tiger naturally meet, hun and po unite, and what is called “Purple Gold” is refined. Wang Baoyi’s commentary on the Jing of the Golden and Azure Dragon says that refining the supreme medicine depends on water and fire. When water and fire join, the Dragon and Tiger energies in the cauldron become harmonious and blend together, transforming into liquid gold. The meaning is already clear.

When refining the elixir, if you can remain humble and still, and gather your spirit at the Qi cavity—the place visualized and focused upon in Neidan practice—so that east and west are joined, Metal and Wood mingle, north and south blend, and water and fire aid one another, then the Four Symbols and Five Phases will converge in one place and naturally condense into an elixir. Why exert yourself trying to force it?

At the first quarter, the Dui trigram (symbolizing the waxing half-moon) governs. The moon gradually reveals half its light, hence the saying, “At the first quarter, Dui’s number is eight.” At the last quarter, the Gen trigram (symbolizing the waning half-moon) governs. The moon gradually reveals half its dark body, hence, “At the last quarter, Gen too is eight.” Taken together, the two quarters complete the vessel formed by Qian and Kun, which symbolize Yang and Yin respectively. The generation of the elixir and the regulation of the firing process are both contained in this image.

“Two eights make one jin” means that the two quarters each contribute eight liang, together making one jin. This serves as a metaphor for the balance of Yin and Yang in the Way of the Yijing, without bias toward either side. By traditional weights and measures, one jin equals 384 zhu. The Yijing has 64 hexagrams, each with six lines: 192 Yang lines and 192 Yin lines, for a total of 384. Wei Boyang used these numbers to explain the harmony of Yin and Yang in the Way of the Elixir. He did not mean that there are literally 384 zhu of medicinal substances, or that one must count all 384 lines individually.

The Wuzhen pian says, “When the two eights correspond, they naturally unite.” Chen Suyang’s Zhidao pian says, “In silent concealment, I regulate the two eights.” Here, “two eights” means two measures of eight liang, signifying equal weight and balance between Yin and Yang. Fixating on the numbers of zhu and lines, and counting breaths with prayer beads in hand, only adds needless effort; this is not the path of cultivation that is supremely simple and easy.

As for the Fuming pian’s statement, “Things gather according to kind and groups divide; the two sides rise together to make one jin,” and the Jindan dacheng ji’s, “Few attain the two-eight gate; the time before and after the quarter is just right,” these refer to the Xun gate within the human body, an aperture corresponding to the Xun trigram. They do not mean eight liang at the first quarter and eight liang at the last.

True gold, placed in a fierce fire, does not lose its original luster. Since the beginning of Heaven and Earth, the Sun and Moon have remained bright, and gold has not lost its own weight; their forms have stayed as they were. Gold originally comes from the Sun and, at dawn on the new-moon day, receives the Sun’s correspondence. When gold returns to its mother, it is like the Sun and Moon joining at the end of the lunar month. It is concealed within the outer frame and sinks into the deep void. Once gold regains its original nature, its awe-inspiring radiance appears within the cauldron.

All things in the world are destroyed when put into fire; only true gold remains unharmed. This is because the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) generate one another, reaching their culmination in Metal. As a precious substance, gold takes on the nature of Water when melted and that of Fire when struck. When soft, it resembles Wood, while its color resembles Earth. Since it embodies the qualities of Water, Fire, Wood, and Earth, true gold grows stronger through a hundred refinements and never loses its original weight.

Since the beginning of Heaven and Earth, countless millions of years have passed, yet the forms of the Sun and Moon remain as before and have not lost their light. This is because the refined Qi of Yin and Yang are each concealed within the other and remain settled in place, so the forms of the Sun and Moon never change through the ages. Among the radiant signs of Heaven and Earth, none is greater than the Sun and Moon; in the Dao of the Elixir, none is more significant than gold and fire. Gold corresponds to the Moon, and fire to the Sun. People know only that gold is the Moon’s light, but do not know that moonlight originally comes from the Sun.

The Moon belongs to Great Yin. It has a body of its own, but no light. Its waxing and waning depend on how much sunlight it receives. On the new-moon day, the Moon has just joined the Sun; after three days, its face begins to shine. At the first quarter, on the eighth day, it is half bright; at the full moon, on the fifteenth day, its light is complete. After the full moon it gradually wanes. At the last quarter, on the twenty-third day, half its light has diminished; on the thirtieth day, the dark-moon day, its light is entirely gone. At dawn on the new-moon day, the Moon has just separated from the Sun and begins to shine by receiving sunlight; its body gradually turns white. On the dark-moon day, it joins the Sun again. The Moon’s body remains, but its light disappears, and it turns completely black.

In the language of the Elixir Dao, true gold originally comes from the Sun and, at dawn on the new-moon day, receives the Sun’s correspondence. At the beginning, it separates from the Sun, receives its light, and gradually becomes visible; its body, too, slowly turns white. On the dark-moon day, it joins the Sun again: the Moon’s body remains, but its radiance vanishes, and its form turns completely black. The phrase “at dawn on the new moon, it receives the Sun’s correspondence” refers to the true Metal of Great Yin in the Kun Palace, the alchemical position symbolizing Yin. It is originally formed by the Sun’s true fire. Its first reception of Qi is like the Moon beginning to receive sunlight on the new-moon day.

“Gold returns to its mother; at the dark moon, Sun and Moon enclose one another” means that gold remains with fire in the Kun Palace, just as the Sun and Moon join on the night of the dark moon. “Hidden within the outer frame, sinking into the cavernous void” means that Shen and Qi descend deep into their source and gradually sink to the bottom of the sea, like the Moon’s body hidden from sight. “When gold regains its former nature, its awe-inspiring radiance plays within the cauldron” means that the Moon’s body is originally black and turns white only after receiving sunlight. Now, as it joins the Sun and hides within the outer frame, it returns to its original blackness. The alchemist need only keep to this blackness and need not ask after the whiteness; if it is maintained long enough, Shen will naturally arrive. Before long, radiance shines through the alchemical cauldron and the fire grows vigorous. Then, on the day of Geng, the Dui Gate—the directional gate symbolizing the West and the Qi of Metal—opens. Black silver bursts forth, revealing white silver.

Zi corresponds to Water and the number one; Wu corresponds to Fire and the number two. Together they make three. Wu and Ji belong to Earth, which occupies the center and is assigned the number five. Three and five make eight, hence the term “Eight Minerals.” When Water, Fire, and Earth are brought together, they establish the governing principles of alchemical refinement, like drawing up a net and seeing all its meshes fall into place. Earth normally overcomes Water, and Water overcomes Fire. They are said to be “in harmony” here because Earth mediates between Water and Fire and brings them into accord, so that Water and Fire unite like husband and wife.

Between Heaven and Earth, Yang Qi rises and Yin Qi descends, as if breathing in and out. The Yin and Yang energies nourish one another; in alchemical refinement, they too must be brought into accord. One waits quietly for the breath to settle and Yin and Yang to unite, like husband and wife coming together.

As Yang Qi rises and Yin Qi descends, it is like Heaven and Earth breathing. Yin and Yang move back and forth within Heaven and Earth, enabling them to endure. If people can model themselves on Heaven and Earth and let this breathing circulate within the body, they too can endure as long as Heaven and Earth.

The Collected Works on the Great Accomplishment of the Golden Elixir says: “When exhaling, the heart corresponds with the lungs; when inhaling, the kidneys correspond with the liver. Exhalation connects with the root of Heaven, and inhalation with the root of Earth. Exhalation is like a dragon’s roar, raising clouds; inhalation is like a tiger’s howl, stirring the wind. As wind and clouds meet between breaths, they congeal into golden liquid.” This describes the natural circulation of the One Qi, not ordinary breathing through the nose.

Li Changyuan’s Precious Chapters of the Primordial Unity says: “Simply let the breath flow freely back and forth at the place where the True Person breathes.” Practitioners should quiet the mind, steady the spirit, draw their attention inward, and observe the place where the True Person’s breathing moves. As the breath rises and falls, they should abide there naturally, without forcing it. After a while, the breaths nourish one another; one becomes calm and still, the breath merges into unity, and Yin and Yang join as though forming a married couple.

Where, then, is the place where the True Person breathes? Liao Chanhu’s Inner Chapters on the Three Vehicles says: “Opposite the navel in front and the kidneys behind, there is a true golden cauldron in the middle.” This refers to the place where the True Person breathes. The Jing of the Yellow Court says: “Behind is the hidden gate; in front is the gate of life. The sun and moon enter and emerge, and breathing abides between them.” If a person does not direct their awareness to this place, the breath will not circulate there.

The True Classic of Nanhua says: “The True Person breathes at the heels; ordinary people breathe at the throat.” When breathing remains at the throat, its reach is shallow and its duration brief. When it extends deep to the heels, it becomes long and profound. Once one has cultivated breath that is deep and sustained, one can say, “My life is in my own hands,” no longer at the mercy of Heaven and Earth’s transformations.

The Treatise on Returning to the Source says: “Below the heart and above the kidneys, west of the liver and left of the lungs, there is neither intestine nor stomach; it is where the One Qi flows naturally.” The scriptures have made this location clear. What, then, is there left to doubt?

Yellow earth refers to Earth at the center. Earth can generate Metal, so it is called Metal’s father. The Flowing Pearl refers to mercury, named for its shifting, fluid nature. When mercury enters water, it condenses into true gold. Gold, in turn, can generate water, so the Flowing Pearl is called water’s mother.

Earth can generate Metal, and Metal can generate water. But when Earth enters water, it constrains the water, preventing it from carrying Metal upward. Hence the saying: “Water regards Earth as a demon; Earth fills it, and the water cannot rise.”

If the fierce fire of the southern Vermilion Bird is then used to heat them, the water boils and the Metal rises with its vapor. The Vermilion Bird belongs to Fire and governs the balance of strength between Fire and water, so it “holds the balance and adjusts their relative strengths.”

As the boiling water rises into the southern Li Palace, which represents the direction of Fire, Li Fire is in turn overcome by Kan water, which represents the direction of water. Once suppressed by water, the Fire dies down. But the water must not become excessive either, so Earth is used again to restrain it and bring it to rest. Thus the text says: “When water grows strong, Fire is extinguished; both die and return to the fertile Earth.”

Water, Fire, and Earth are together called the “Three Natures.” Once they meet, they blend into one and return to the Kun Palace, which represents Earth and soil. They return to their common source, hence the saying: “Once the Three Natures have joined, their original nature shares a common ancestor.”

Although sesame can also prolong life, the prepared elixir known as the Returned Elixir can be taken directly by mouth. Gold is firm by nature and does not decay or rot, so it is a treasure among all things. Practitioners who take the Golden Elixir can thereby gain long life.

Jusheng means hemp seed, or sesame. Even taking sesame can prolong life. The Ninefold-Turned Great Elixir of Liquid Gold is a sacred embryo formed by gathering the upright Qi of Heaven and Earth when the essence of gold is at its fullest. Such an elixir is naturally believed to confer immortality. Gold is hard and strong by nature; it does not decay even after ten thousand years, and so is regarded as the greatest treasure among all things. The immortals prize this elixir. They therefore do not call it a water elixir, fire elixir, wood elixir, or earth elixir, but call it the Golden Elixir alone.

Earth has no fixed position. It moves among Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei: Chen marks the end of spring, Wei the end of summer, Xu the end of autumn, and Chou the end of winter. Earth is present in each of the four seasons, spring, summer, autumn, and winter; hence the saying, “Earth moves through the four seasons.” Earth can dry up water and make fire lie dormant. When it holds water in check, the water does not flow; when it holds fire in check, the flames do not rise. In cultivation, one uses earth to guard the Kun position, the earth position among the Eight Trigrams, and seek the elixir; one also guards the Qian position, the heaven position among the Eight Trigrams, to regulate the stages of the firing process. Hence the saying, “Guard the boundaries and establish the rules.”

When golden cinnabar enters the five inner organs, it spreads like mist and arrives like wind and rain.

When the cinnabar sand (a term for the substances or Jing and Qi cultivated in internal alchemy) rises to the cauldron (a bodily region or furnace vessel used in Neidan cultivation), it passes through the two kidneys and ascends along the spine between the shoulder blades. It travels through the heart region and enters the Sea of Marrow (the place where the brain marrow is located, according to Chinese medicine), surges through the lungs, then passes through the liver and spleen before finally returning to the Dantian, an important site in Neidan cultivation. As it rises, the sensation is as though clouds and mist fill the surroundings, or as though wind and rain suddenly descend. It feels like waking from a hazy daydream, or like a severe illness suddenly leaving the body. Spirit and breath mingle as if husband and wife were joining; flesh and bones feel relaxed and harmonious, as if just after bathing. These are experiences that truly occur, not metaphors. The Fuming Pian says, “Before people know it, they call it Qi; once they grasp its essentials, they naturally know it is real.” Without experiencing it firsthand, one cannot understand.

The vapor of internal cultivation permeates the limbs, giving the complexion a healthy, pleasing glow. White hair can turn black, and lost teeth can grow back. The elderly regain the vigor of youth, and older men and women become young again. Those who transform their appearance and escape the calamities of the world are called “Perfected Ones” (those who have attained the Dao through cultivation).

After the Golden Elixir has been formed, it must be nurtured continuously, day and night, so that the cultivation process never ceases. In this way, True Qi gradually fills the body and flows into the limbs. The person’s spirit naturally becomes clear and at ease, the complexion grows lustrous, white hair turns black, and lost teeth grow back. An old man regains the appearance of his prime, and an old woman becomes young again. From then on, the person transforms their original body and breaks free of the constraints of the world. Such a person is called a True Person.

Someone once explained it this way: Humans and Heaven and Earth are listed together as the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—so it might seem that people should have beginnings and endings like Heaven and Earth. Yet Heaven and Earth are without end, while humans do not live beyond a hundred years. Why is this? Because among Heaven and Earth, humans are merely one kind of being among the myriad things. Humans are more spiritually perceptive than other beings, which is why they are specially called “human”; how could that alone make them the equal of Heaven and Earth? If one can draw upon the hidden workings of Heaven and Earth’s creative power and cultivate the Great Golden Elixir of Liquid Gold—the Daoist term for the Golden Elixir refined internally—one can endure as long as Heaven and Earth. Only then does one merit the name True Person. Having become a True Person, one surpasses the ordinary and approaches the sacred, no longer bound by the limits of one’s original body. One wanders freely beyond the world and escapes worldly suffering forever.

Lead powder, when fired, changes color and eventually returns to lead. Ice and snow, meeting warm water, melt and become something wondrous. In refining gold, sand is the principal material, mixed with mercury. Transformation depends on the inherent nature of the substances themselves; the arising and ending of things follow one another in succession. To refine an elixir for ingestion and immortality, one should choose materials of similar nature: millet is used to grow millet, and a hen’s egg to hatch a chick. When like things assist their own natural transformation, the refining is easier to bring to success. A fish’s eye cannot serve as a pearl, and mugwort cannot produce olives. Only things of the same kind resonate with one another; when their natures do not accord, they cannot be refined into a treasure. Thus sparrows cannot give birth to phoenixes, and foxes and rabbits cannot give birth to horses. Water flows downward; it does not burn upward. Fire rises; it does not moisten downward.

Lead white is originally made by firing black lead. If it is put back into the fire and heated again, it reverts to lead. Ice and snow form when Yin energy congeals; if warm water is poured over them, they melt back into water. Why does this happen? Because all things return to their roots and recover their original state: this is the necessary principle at work.

The method of refining gold centers on sand, which is mixed with mercury. Mercury originates in sand and belongs to the same kind. Thus, the two depend on each other from beginning to end and can bring about transformation because their natures are compatible.

The Wuzhen Pian says: “When a bamboo vessel breaks, it must be mended with bamboo; to hatch a chicken, one must use an egg. Using things of different kinds is simply a waste of effort. What could compare with true lead, which accords with the key to the practice?” This means that when true mercury—a term in alchemy for the Yin aspect—obtains true lead, the Yang aspect, Yin and Yang unite and their energies correspond, making them of the same kind. It is like sowing grain with seed or hatching a chicken from an egg: things of the same kind naturally follow one another. There is no need to force the process; transformation can then take place.

If one abandons things of the same kind and seeks something else, it is like mistaking a fish’s eye for a pearl or trying to make a roof beam from mugwort. When the kinds are different, how could transformation occur? Swallows can produce only swallows, and sparrows only sparrows; they cannot produce phoenixes. Foxes can produce only foxes, and rabbits only rabbits; they cannot give birth to horses. Fire by nature rises—can it be made to flow downward and moisten? Water by nature descends—can it be made to rise and burn? Therefore, anyone seeking to refine an elixir that can be taken to attain immortality must use things of the same kind. Only things of the same kind can unite and follow one another; if this principle is violated, no treasure can be refined.

Yet the human body itself contains its own Heaven and Earth, and its own Yin and Yang. The Huanyuan Pian also says: “Seize the essence of another Heaven and Earth; in an instant, they join and give birth.” This means that one must borrow the Qi of Heaven and Earth—that is, the Qi of the sacred father and numinous mother symbolized by the sun and moon. The Qi within the human body, by contrast, comes from the flesh and bones received from one’s parents; therefore, one must use the true father…