《周易参同契发挥(原题俞琰)》Vol. 3

The “Four Terminations” means that the movement of Yang Qi comes to an end when it reaches the Si position, like water flowing down to the foot of a mountain. Its effects extend throughout the whole realm, reaching everywhere, so it is said to cover the four neighboring regions far and wide. Yang ends at Si, where Yin and Yang meet midway: once the cycle of Yang Fire has run its course, the Yin Talisman takes over its function.

Gou is the hexagram in which the first Yin line is born, marking the beginning of Yin Qi’s emergence. “The first sign is treading on frost” means that the chill appears before frost falls. “A cold spring at the bottom of a well” is a metaphor for Yin Qi hidden deep below. “At noon, the guest is the Luo” uses the Wu position to symbolize where Yang stands when Yin first begins to rise. At this time, Yang retreats to the guest’s place, while Yin becomes dominant. Yang ending at Si and Yin and Yang meeting refers precisely to the end of Yang Fire’s course and the beginning of the Yin Talisman’s activity.

Gou, the hexagram in which the first Yin line is born, corresponds in the pitch-pipe system—a traditional framework linking musical pitches with seasonal periods—to “establishing the guest.” Within a day, this is noon; within a month, it falls between the sixteenth and eighteenth days; within a year, it is the month when the Big Dipper’s handle points toward Wu. At this time Yin Qi has just begun to emerge, serving as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman beginning its movement within the body. Once the numinous elixir has been taken, it must turn back and enter the “cold spring,” then be guided back to the Dantian, the body’s center for cultivation, in accordance with the methods of practice. One must not rush or act hastily. This is why the text says, “The first sign is treading on frost; a cold spring lies at the bottom of a well.” “The guest submits to Yin, and Yin is the host” means that when Yin begins to take charge, all the Yang lines withdraw to the guest’s position. “Guest” also carries the sense of reverence and caution: in cultivation, one must guard against danger and act carefully.

In the Dun hexagram, a line leaves its original position, symbolizing the gathering and containment of Jing and Qi. Preserve De and wait for the right moment; withdraw slowly into concealment, dwelling in darkness and stillness.

Dun, the hexagram of two Yin lines, corresponds in the pitch-pipe system to “Linzhong.” Within a day, this is when the shadow falls toward the Wei position; within a month, it is between the eighteenth and twentieth days; within a year, it is the month when the Big Dipper’s handle points toward Wei. At this time Yin Qi gradually increases, serving as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman leaving the Wu position, gathering itself and moving downward within the body. This is like a virtuous person withdrawing to a remote mountain valley and waiting for the right moment. Hence the text says, “Cherish De and await the time; slowly withdraw into darkness.”

The Pi Hexagram is blocked and obstructed, so even the first shoots cannot grow. Yin Qi extends while Yang Qi withdraws and contracts; as a result, plants wither and life is harmed.

The Pi Hexagram has three Yin lines and corresponds to the pitch pipe Yize. In the course of a day, it corresponds to the evening hour of Shen; in the course of a month, to the period from the twenty-first to the twenty-third and a half days; in the course of a year, to the seventh lunar month, when the Big Dipper’s handle points toward Shen. At this time, Yang Qi gradually declines. This is used as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman Qi within the human body continually descending. Just as the autumn air withers plants, turning them yellow and causing them to fall, Yin Qi extends and Yang Qi withdraws, harming life.

Observe the measure of waxing and waning shown by the Guan Hexagram, and discern the conditions of mid-autumn. Nurture the tiny new shoots, so that even old, withered plants can flourish again. Shepherd’s purse and wheat sprout and grow beneath their covering.

The Guan Hexagram has four Yin lines and corresponds to the pitch pipe Nanlü. In the course of a day, it corresponds to the hour of You at sunset; in the course of a month, to the period from the twenty-third and a half to the twenty-fifth day; in the course of a year, to the eighth lunar month, when the Big Dipper’s handle points toward You. At this time, Yin Qi supports Yang Qi, and all things contract and bear fruit. This is used as a metaphor for the Yin Talisman Qi within the human body having descended more than halfway and entered the Dantian (the lower abdomen, where internal cultivation takes place in Daoist Neidan practice). Just as trees draw in their blossoms and bear fruit, this is called nurturing the tiny shoots. Yet most things wither and age in autumn, while shepherd’s purse and wheat sprout at this time. Why? Because Yang Qi remains within Yin.

The Bo Hexagram causes the limbs to decay and the body to perish. The Qi that generates and transforms life has been exhausted, and the Most High Spirit is lost along with it.

“Bo” is a hexagram made up of five yin lines. In the pitch system, it corresponds to Wushe, one of the twelve ancient pitch standards. In the course of a day, it corresponds to dusk during the Xu hour; in the course of a month, to the period from the twenty-sixth through the twenty-eighth and a half days; and in the course of a year, to the month when the Dipper’s handle points toward the Xu position—that is, the Xu month.

At this time, Yang Qi is waning and nearly spent, like fruit rotting on a branch and falling to the ground. This is used to describe the body’s Yin Talisman—the rhythms of Yin and Yang waxing and waning during cultivation—nearing exhaustion. Its wondrous function can no longer be put to use. Thus, the transformative Qi is said to have been depleted, and the utmost spirit vanishes with it. Fire Qi arises during the Yin hour, reaches its height during the Wu hour, and ends during the Xu hour. Xu is when all things close away and lie concealed; the firing process—the timing of fire Qi’s movement in cultivation—comes to an end here, even within a single quarter of an hour. This is what the “Fuming Chapter” means when it says, “East and west, movement and stillness, join at dawn and dusk.” The firing process within a day also ceases at this point. Lü Chunyang’s poem, which says, “Day after day, following it as it goes out and…” refers to the same idea. How could those shallow practitioners of marginal arts, who understand only one side and not the other, ever fully grasp this principle?

When the Dao reaches its end, it turns back and returns to the foundation of Kun. It constantly follows the patterns of the earth, receiving Heaven’s intent and putting it into effect. Remote and profound, it is difficult to see, yet all things connect through it. It accords with the proper measure and nurtures the seed; it is the source of Yin and Yang. Vast and empty, indistinct and unfathomable, no one knows where it begins. At first, the way is lost; only afterward can one become its master.

The Kun hexagram consists of six yin lines and corresponds to Yingzhong in the system of pitch pipes. Compared with the hours of the day, it corresponds to the hour of the Pig, when people have settled in for the night. Compared with the lunar month, it spans from the twenty-eighth and a half day to the thirtieth day, at the end of the month. Over the course of a year, it corresponds to the month when the handle of the Northern Dipper points toward the Pig position. At this time, yin energy is at its height: all things return to their roots, resting and renewing themselves. In the human body, this symbolizes yin energy reaching the end of its course: body and mind grow still, returning to their source and finding tranquility again. Thus, when things reach their limit, they turn back, returning to the primal state symbolized by the Kun hexagram.

Cultivators follow the patterns of the earth and receive the cycles of Heaven. This is the same idea expressed earlier in the words, “Metal originates from the sun; at dawn on the new moon, it receives the sun’s tally,” for Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon are one. The moon receives sunlight without diminishing the sun; moonlight is, in truth, sunlight. The energy of Heaven descends to Earth, and the energy that gives rise to all things within the Earth also comes from Heaven. The human body takes Heaven as its model and follows the example of Earth. Its yin and yang respond to and join one another just as they do in the cycles of Heaven and Earth.

The Returning to the Origin Chapter says, “When spirit returns within Qi, the Dao of the Elixir forms naturally.” If a person can turn inward and gather the spirit in the Qi cavity—the place in Neidan cultivation where spirit is concentrated and Qi is gathered—then spirit will settle there, and the vital energy of life will condense into liquid. When the life force within the body stirs, a scene appears like “a red lotus holding the medicine, and dewdrops condensing into emerald.” Like drops of dew falling into the Flower Pool, the place within the body where fluids are received, they gather one by one until they condense in the Dantian, becoming the pivot of Neidan.

“Dark and distant, obscure and subtle; separated by a barrier, yet joined”—these words describe the interval between the hour of the Pig and the hour of the Rat, the boundary between yin and yang. The energy of the six yin lines has reached its limit, while the first yang has not yet appeared. All is still and empty, as at the beginning, before Heaven and Earth were divided. At this time, ancient cultivators gathered in their senses and lowered their eyelids, directing the light of their mind and spirit down into the Kan Palace, an inner cultivation site associated with water and the kidneys. At first the state is dark and indistinct, like moonlight reflected in a cold pool. Then spirit and Qi join together. Though they seem separated by an obstruction, they are secretly connected, like a magnet attracting iron.

“Receiving the measure, nurturing the seed, the source of yin and yang” means that refining the Elixir is like the month of the Pig, when the Kun hexagram is pure and yin energy rules. All things return to their roots; Heaven and Earth close and store their forces, and winter begins. Although winter is chiefly a time of storage, the foundations for the growth and development of the coming year are already being nurtured then, hidden away from sight. The ancients called the months when yin energy was at its height “yang months” because, by the time of Slight Snow, yang energy had already begun to sprout beneath the six yin lines. It gradually accumulated until, at the winter solstice, it filled one line and formed the Fu hexagram.

Neidan cultivation works in the same way. While the night energy has not yet faded, one need only gather spirit and Qi and sit upright for a short time. Before long, spirit and Qi return to their roots; from nothing, something gradually takes shape and gathers into a point of “Golden Essence.” The Emerald Void Chapter says, “The Golden Essence is the medicine of the Kun Palace; Kun lies in the southwest, the source of the river. The moon’s light shines all day upon the western river; this is the root of the medicine.” The meaning is that the medicine has its source in the yin stillness represented by Kun. Yang energy does not begin to sprout only when the Fu hexagram appears. Though Kun is the hexagram of utmost yin, it nurtures yang within yin and is precisely the source from which the medicine arises.

“Vast and open, indistinct and elusive; its beginning is unknown” describes the state in which body and mind return to their source. The mind and spirit enter a spacious stillness, seeming to merge with the Great Void. After a long time in stillness, when inner functions stir and a sense of numinous clarity appears in the heart, one feels the Qi of the three Dantians filling out. The state is indistinct and elusive, and its origin cannot be discerned. The words “In the indistinct and elusive, there is something; in the obscure and dark, there is essence” describe the very heart of cultivation.

The Book of Jade Zhi says that many people, both ancient and modern, have recited these words, but few have truly understood them. Without cultivating in person and experiencing them directly, there is no way to understand. The state of obscurity is like standing in a deep place and looking down into darkness; the state of elusiveness is like the feeling just after waking from a daytime dream. These are things cultivators actually experience, not metaphors. Those without firsthand experience often dismiss “obscurity” and “elusiveness” as empty words. One should understand that obscurity means stillness without movement, like the time before Heaven and Earth within oneself have been divided; elusiveness means that a response arises and gradually connects through, like the time just before Heaven and Earth within oneself are about to open. The subtlety of Elixir refinement lies here; it must not be mistaken for empty writing. The Fanglong Great Elixir Formula says, “No one understands the elusive; I alone know the hazy.” This shows how few truly understand this state.

“First, confusion loses the way; afterward, one becomes the sovereign” describes how cultivation begins in a dim, silent state, sinking deeply into darkness and stillness. After a while, when yin energy reaches its utmost, yang energy sprouts; when stillness reaches its utmost, inner functions stir. Then it is as if the gate of the face suddenly opens and the void bursts apart: a vision of light breaks through the stillness, and the authority of creation seems to pass into one’s own hands.

In this chapter, Wei Boyang clearly explains the source from which the medicine arises and discusses in detail the essential principles of cultivation: existence and extinction, being and nonbeing, subject and object, and what comes before and after. The Returning the Gold Chapter says, “Vast and distant, one can only scoop for the moon in the water; plain to see, one can only reach for a flower in the mirror.” These principles may seem elusive, but without deeply experiencing the Great Dao, it is difficult to recognize their true meaning.

No road remains forever level and without rises and falls. This is the natural law of the Dao (the Way). Things continually change, with flourishing and decline following one another. Yin qi (vital energy) reaches its end in the Kun hexagram, while yang qi begins in the Fu hexagram. The endpoint joins the beginning, like a ring that turns back on itself. A ruler who acts in accord with the times can sustain prosperity for a long while.

“There is no road that remains forever level and without rises and falls, and nothing that departs never to return.” This is precisely the natural law of the Dao. The methods of alchemy follow the same pattern: when stillness reaches its extreme, movement begins; when movement reaches its extreme, it returns to stillness. Movement and stillness are each the root of the other, and both are natural transformations. It is like the courses of the sun and moon and the alternation of cold and heat: when the heat recedes, cold sets in; when the cold passes, warmth returns.

The Golden Elixir can be described as the Yi—the Way of change—within the human body. The law of change in the Yi is that when development reaches its limit, transformation follows, and through transformation things become open and unobstructed. Flourishing and decline alternate, each taking up where the other leaves off. Nothing reaches its limit and then remains unchanged forever, nor does anything remain unable to move forward after transformation. Yang qi begins with the Fu hexagram, and Yin qi ends with the Kun hexagram; their beginning and end connect. Hence the saying, “Kun ends and Fu begins, like a ring that turns back on itself.”

In the Cantong qi, Wei Boyang uses the twelve sovereign hexagrams—hexagrams corresponding to the twelve months of the year and the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang—to explain the regulation of the firing process. He also uses the names of musical pitches and the names of the double hours to develop his text; most of these are simply metaphors. In the text, “radiating spokes” alludes to Taicu, “ordered ranks” to Jiazhong, “washing” to Guxian, “center” to Zhonglü, “handle” to Linzhong, “bearing” to Nanlü, “injury” to Yize, “perishing” to Wushe, and “responding” to Yingzhong. “Rousing” alludes to the hour of Chen, “obscure” to Wei, “extending” to Shen, “storing” to You, “extinguishing” to Xu, and “closing” to Hai. These names are mostly borrowed characters or borrowed meanings. One should not cling to their literal wording, fixate on the hexagrams, or force far-fetched interpretations.

“A ruler who acts in accord with the times can sustain prosperity for a long while” means that a noble person remains diligent throughout the day and acts in response to changing circumstances. In this way, they can remain fresh for a long time.

To cultivate one’s nature, lengthen one’s life, and avoid dying prematurely, one should think carefully about life’s end—and probe even more deeply into its beginning. The body a person receives was originally rooted in the formless. As primordial essence—the vital energy at the root of life—circulates, it begins to take shape by relying on Qi.

Foolish and wise alike receive the same nature, and all are granted life. A noble person knows that nature must not be harmed, so preserves and nurtures it; knowing that life must not be lost lightly, the noble person safeguards and extends it. Even without the aid of cultivation, one can pass through life steadily by remaining calm and at ease. How much more so for someone who understands the methods of cultivation and can take Heaven and Earth’s transformations as a model, refine the hun and po souls until they coalesce as one, and cultivate nature and life together? How could such a person fail to attain long life? To seek long life, one must trace how the body took shape before one was born. Only by understanding this can one speak of methods for cultivating nature and extending life. Hence the saying: “Think carefully about life’s end, and probe even more deeply into its beginning.”

A person is born when the Qi of the parents joins to form the body. The body is what receives Qi; Qi is the source from which the body takes shape. Without a body, Qi has nowhere to reside; without Qi, the body cannot form. Hence the saying: “The body a person receives was originally rooted in the formless. As primordial essence circulates, it begins to take shape by relying on Qi.”

When immortals cultivate the Golden Elixir, Yin-Yang Qi responds and joins within the body, and Shen and Qi gather together, giving rise to form from within the formless. This follows the same principle as a child gestating in the womb. During the ten months of warming and nurturing, the true breath—the long, subtle breath used in cultivation—continues without interruption, the same by day and by night, like an unborn infant. The Song of the Great Way from the Spirit’s Source says: “Look at the infant while it rests in the womb: how could it know how to scheme? Keep the primordial Qi unified, let body and mind grow gentle, and let the spirit’s awareness remain settled for a long time; then the breath flowing in and out will naturally become calm.”

In the womb, when the mother exhales, the infant exhales with her; when she inhales, the infant inhales with her. The infant’s mouth and nose are closed, and it is connected to the mother through the navel. The navel is therefore the foundation of life, the root of Qi. Lü Chunyang (Lü Dongbin), in the Song of the Mysterious Female, says: “Probe deeply the place where you received Qi and first took shape; do not be surprised that the workings of Heaven have already been fully disclosed.” If people trace the source of their own conception and formation, return to the root and source, and turn their light inward—seeking the elixir, the vital essence of internal alchemy, at the abdominal root symbolized by the Kun position in the southwest—they can draw near to the state in which they first received Qi and took shape. Why seek outside themselves?

Sadly, students of the Dao often cling to words and outward appearances, each insisting that only their own view is correct. Those who presume to be wise mistake Golden Elixir cultivation for Chan Buddhism; take the nature spoken of in Chan as the Mysterious Female, the source from which life arises; treat the first stirring of a thought as “the birth of the One Yang,” when Yang Qi first begins to stir; and regard clearing away deluded thoughts as advancing the fire, the process of regulating the stages of internal alchemy. They even ridicule claims that life can be prolonged, saying such matters concern only what happens after death. Those with shallow understanding mistake the Golden Elixir for sexual techniques, take women as alchemical vessels, identify the birth canal as the beginning of life, and treat impure substances as the daogui, the medicines used in alchemy. In turn, they mock the cultivation of nature as nothing more than sitting rigidly on a meditation cushion. One path leads toward emptiness; the other falls into deviance. They cling to their views all their lives without awakening, which is truly lamentable.

When Yin-Yang Qi harmonizes, it is like the white and yolk of an egg, joined together and dependent on one another. At first, the embryo is about an inch in size. As it develops, its limbs, five viscera, sinews, and bones gradually take shape. After ten months, it leaves the womb and is born. A newborn’s bones are soft and flexible, and its flesh is delicate and smooth as malt syrup.

Here, “black and white” refers to Yin-Yang Qi. A human embryo first forms from the union of the father’s Jing and Qi with the mother’s blood and Qi. It is undifferentiated, like an egg; then the body gradually develops, and at full term the child is born. Those who refine the Golden Elixir use the growth of an embryo as a metaphor for Neidan cultivation: the practitioner must nurture an “infant” within the Dantian, that is, the “sacred embryo,” the inner life formed through Neidan practice. Cultivating the sacred embryo therefore also requires roughly ten months of effort; one cannot expect quick results. The Cuixu Pian says that after a year of cultivation, the breath returns to its root, and an infant appears in the Dantian, resembling the practitioner in form.

Yin-Yang serves as the standard for measurement and regulation, and is also where the hun and po souls reside.

In the sky there is the ecliptic, the region through which the Sun appears to travel. Traditionally, its circumference is said to span 365 degrees. It completes one circuit in a day and a night. The Sun and Moon rise and set as they move along the ecliptic in turn, thereby creating day and night and bringing changes in heat and cold. Yet the movements of the celestial bodies have no fixed degrees in themselves. The ancients observed the positions of the Sun and Moon as they passed different stars, and used those observations to divide their paths into degrees. Nor do the Sun and Moon have fixed places where they come and go; people therefore took the places where they appeared and disappeared at dawn and dusk as their dwelling places. Only by understanding this principle can one grasp what Wei Boyang meant when he said, “Yin and Yang are the measure, and the souls dwell within them.”

Within the human body there is also an “ecliptic”: the place where the Yin Talisman and Yang Fire circulate, and where the Sun Soul and Moon Spirit dwell. In Neidan (internal alchemy), the Yin Talisman and Yang Fire refer to the changes of Yin and Yang and their circulation. The Sun Soul and Moon Spirit, drawing on the images of the Sun and Moon, refer to the corresponding Yin and Yang spirits within the body. If one can observe the Dao of Heaven, grasp the movements of Heaven, discern the patterns of Yin and Yang in motion, and understand where the souls dwell, then the circuit of 365 degrees around the heavens can unfold between a single inhalation and exhalation. The coming and going of the Sun and Moon, too, are reflected in the finest movements of the breath. Exhalation belongs to Yang, inhalation to Yin: their workings mirror the wondrous function of the Dao of Heaven, and need not be sought elsewhere.

The Yang spirit is called the Sun Soul; the Yin spirit, the Moon Spirit. Each is the dwelling place of the other.

An old song says, “Who can know the Sun’s Soul and the Moon’s Po? Whoever knows them is a true immortal.” The Sun’s Soul and Moon’s Po spoken of here are not the visible, formed sun and moon in the heavens and earth, but the formless, imperceptible Sun’s Soul and Moon’s Po that move subtly within the human body. Without a realized master’s personal instruction, how could anyone come to know them?

The sun belongs to Yang and spreads its radiance by day, so it is called the “soul.” The moon belongs to Yin and conceals its brightness at night, so it is called the “po.” Since the Sun’s Soul belongs to Yang, it would be fitting to call it the Yang spirit; since the Moon’s Po belongs to Yin, it could also be called Yin essence. The scripture calls both of them “spirit” because they are in constant transformation and have no fixed location: they circulate among the four directions of heaven and earth, coming and going without a settled place, and moving up and down without a set pattern.

The soul corresponds to Wood in the East, and the po corresponds to Metal in the West. Metal and Wood are not, in essence, two entirely separate entities. The East and West lie next to each other, so the East is also a place within the West. They move back and forth between East and West, alternately entering and leaving; each can therefore be regarded as the dwelling place of the other.

A person’s nature is still and resides within, like the foundation and boundary of a house. The emotions and desires respond to the outside world and are often active beyond, like a city wall. Only when the walls are complete can the people and things within be secure. In this state, the emotions accord with Qian and Kun, the Yin and Yang of heaven and earth.

Nature refers to stillness. Nature is chiefly guarded within: sit upright in quiet meditation, empty the mind, and turn awareness inward. Establishing the foundation is like setting firm boundaries. It means mastering the essence of Metal, making it the basis of life cultivation. Emotion refers to activity. Emotion chiefly moves outward, beginning with the pivotal apertures and circulating without pause day and night. To regard the body as a walled city is to let the Dragon Fire—the regulated heat that refines inner Qi—move around all eight directions of the body. When the city walls are complete, body and mind can become settled. Even then, one should sit upright, empty the mind, turn awareness inward, guard the foundation, and master the essence of Metal.

Keep the breath circulating freely through the joints. Then essence and Qi will naturally become abundant, and the Grain Spirit—the inner spirit, empty and still yet luminous—can be preserved and nourished. At this point, emotion joins with Qian and Kun, which symbolize Yin-Yang. The River Cart, an image for the practice of circulating essence and Qi, moves without pause day and night, silently attuning itself to the workings by which Heaven and Earth transform and nurture the myriad things.

Qian’s Yang is activated, firm, and free-flowing; breath disperses, and essence and Qi circulate. Kun’s Yin is still and gathering: it is where the Great Dao dwells.

Qian represents Heaven and governs movement, spreading the myriad things and opening pathways in all directions; hence it is called “straight.” Because Qian’s Yang is active and free-flowing, essence and Qi can move and fill the Three Palaces—the body’s upper, middle, and lower Dantian regions—reaching everywhere. Kun represents Earth and governs stillness, guarding, and gathering, bringing the myriad things back into the soil; hence it is called “gathering,” or drawing things together. Because Kun’s Yin is still and gathering, essence and Qi return to the Primordial Sea, deep within the Dantian, where the Great Dao dwells. In general, to abide in Qian is to move: Qi spreads and essence flows. To abide in Kun is to be still: Qi gathers and essence congeals.

After firm Yang has been put into action, it withdraws and is stored away; yielding Yin transforms, bringing forth and nourishing life.

Qian’s Yang Qi descends to join with Kun’s Yin. Kun’s Yin receives it with yielding softness, and so the medicine is generated. After the medicine has been fired and refined, the firm Yang Qi withdraws, while the soft Yin Qi rises and transforms into sweet, beautiful fluids that moisten the whole body.

Nine returns and seven reverses; eight returns and six abides.

Six, seven, eight, and nine correspond respectively to Water, Fire, Wood, and Metal. In terms of the trigrams, they are Kan, Li, Zhen, and Dui; in terms of direction, east, west, south, and north; in terms of the lunar lodges, Xu, Fang, Xing, and Mao; in terms of symbolic creatures, the tortoise, snake, dragon, and tiger; in terms of the seasons, spring, summer, autumn, and winter; and in terms of the Earthly Branches, Zi, Wu, Mao, and You. These names are different ways of referring to the same kinds of things.

Nine is called “return,” seven “reversal,” and eight “homecoming”; their meanings are similar. Six alone is called “dwelling,” because the northern Kan position is where the tiger resides and is also the original dwelling of “true lead” (a technical alchemical term and an important symbol in Neidan cultivation). True lead dwells here, where the proper energies of the three directions converge: Metal, represented by nine; Wood, represented by eight; and Fire, represented by seven. They gather here like the spokes of a wheel converging on its hub, or like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea.

In his commentary on the Jingbi Longhu Jing, Wang Baoyi says: “The sun and moon have different ways of shining and moving. When they rise in the east, their light shines toward the west, and the proper energy of the western White Tiger (the virtue of Metal) enters the deep and mysterious realm, transforming into Six Wu. When the sun and moon set in the west, their light shines toward the east, and the proper energy of the eastern Azure Dragon (the virtue of Wood) enters it, transforming into Six Ji. When the sun and moon move to the Wu position, their light shines toward the north. The proper energy of the southern Vermilion Bird (the virtue of Fire) enters it, takes shape, and transforms into black lead. It dwells constantly in the deep and still darkness, becoming the root of all things between Heaven and Earth.” Though Wang Baoyi’s account and Wei Boyang’s discussion come from different eras, they accord with one another.

The male belongs to white and the female to red; Metal and Fire bind together. Once they have joined, Water settles, and Water is the beginning of the Five Phases.

The Cuixu Pian says: “What a strange thing, enough to make one laugh again and again: men nowadays can become pregnant too. Their own essence and vital energy join and congeal within them.” Here, “become pregnant” is a metaphor for Neidan cultivation: essence and vital energy join and gather within the body, forming the Elixir embryo.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “This wondrous thing has made people laugh more than once; now even men can become pregnant. When the body’s own Jing and blood mingle and congeal, the body contains the subtle union of husband and wife.” The “sacred embryo of the Golden Elixir” refers to Yin and Yang responding to one another within the body, so that Shen and Qi join and congeal to form Neidan. “Male and female,” and “red and white,” are different names for the husband and wife within the body.

When Yin and Yang respond to one another within the body, Shen and Qi interact like Metal and Fire drawing together. Joined, Metal and Fire settle in Kan water, which symbolizes the north. Shen then gathers, Qi converges, and the water within the body settles. Once the water is still, the medicine congeals. This is the state described in the Huánjīn Piān as “the water clears and congeals like amber.” Water is the source of the Great Elixir: Heaven’s First gives rise to water; water occupies the north and corresponds to the Kan trigram. It ranks first among the Five Phases and is where the medicine arises within the human body.

If practitioners can draw their attention inward and turn their gaze back toward this place within the body, exhaling lightly and inhaling slowly and continuously, then Shen and Qi will return to their root. As practice continues, the breath gradually becomes soft, even, and calm. After remaining calm for a long time, the breath seems to cease, and the medicine congeals naturally.

The highest goodness is like water: clear and without blemish.

The highest virtue is like water: it follows its nature and does not force things. The cultivation of the Great Way of the Golden Elixir also teaches stillness and Wuwei (non-action), moving with the natural course of things. In his Recorded Sayings, Ma Danyang says that those who study the Dao must not let their minds stray from it for even a moment, whether they are walking, standing, sitting, or doing anything else. When walking, they should place their feet on level ground; when standing, focus the spirit on the Great Void, the vast and empty realm; when sitting, regulate the breath through the nose; and at other times, keep the mind on the “pearl” below the navel, a symbol in Neidan cultivation. Regulating the breath for a long time without interruption, remaining calm and speaking little throughout the day: this is practical cultivation, not deliberate contrivance. Is Ma Danyang not describing the way of following nature and avoiding forced action?

The Awakening to Reality says, “Simply tend the medicine furnace and observe the firing times; settle the spirit and the breath, and let them follow their natural course.” The Shangqing Collection says, “The arts of the immortals are not elaborate: they simply preserve a childlike simplicity amid the human world.” This, too, may be understood as following nature and avoiding forced action. Water is naturally still and steady; when it settles, it becomes clear, and when stirred into turmoil, it turns murky. The mysteries of the Golden Elixir arise entirely from stillness and settled calm. The Returning to the Source says, “Understand the medicines and the firing times, and the Elixir’s formation will become visible in stillness.” Clearly, without stillness and settled calm, the Elixir cannot be formed.

The Dao has no form, and the Primordial One (the original Qi embodied by the Dao) is difficult to describe. It transforms and spreads outward, with each part existing independently.

There is something formed in a state of undifferentiated wholeness, existing before Heaven and Earth. I do not know what it is called, so I reluctantly give it the name “Dao” (the Way). It has no shape to seek out and no definite image to see. How, then, could it be depicted?

Long ago, Guangchengzi told the Yellow Emperor: “The subtlety of the Supreme Dao is deep and obscure; the utmost reach of the Supreme Dao is dim and still.” In this state of profound stillness, no thought arises in the mind, and every kind of reflection fades away. All things are one undivided whole, as though the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) had not yet separated; it is also as though the two forms of Yin-Yang had not yet shown any sign. Only this one thing exists, clear and alone, like a deep pool reflecting the moon. It is silent and unmoving, like still water without a ripple. At this point, one cannot yet tell lead from mercury. This is called the “True One,” the undivided source from before Heaven and Earth separated and before the myriad things transformed.

When the time is ripe and Qi (vital energy) begins to move and change, the myriad things divide: what is light and clear rises, while what is heavy and turbid sinks. Thus, lead is found in the Kan Palace, which symbolizes water and Yin containing Yang, while mercury is found in the Li Palace, which symbolizes fire and Yang containing Yin. What was previously undivided now splits into two parts, each independent. The “Treatise on Returning to the Mandate” says: “One thing divides into two; know the names of the two. The cauldron and furnace conceal sun and moon; the water clock has already reached the third watch.” This is what it means.

The great medicine of the Golden Elixir, the substance formed from refined essence and Qi in Neidan (internal alchemy), is conceived in the pre-Heavenly state and manifests in the post-Heavenly state. Its mystery lies in the moment when Taiji is about to divide but has not yet done so: stillness has reached its utmost, yet has not turned into movement; Yang Qi is about to return, yet has not separated from Yin Qi. If one can grasp the pivot of Heaven and Earth’s transformations at this moment, recognize where the Elixir forms, and know how to begin the practice, one can sense that one thing within the indistinct and perceive true essence within the deep and silent darkness. Only then does one understand that the Great Dao can bring forth being from nonbeing, and that the mystery of the True One truly cannot be expressed in a drawing.

Then, can the mystery of the True One ultimately not be shown to others? The answer is: it can.

A yangsui, an ancient fire-making device that used a copper mirror to focus sunlight and kindle a flame, cannot produce firelight without the sun. And without starlight and moonlight, how could a fangzhu, an ancient vessel said to condense droplets of water from moonlight, obtain any liquid? Though Yin and Yang, the two Qi energies, are far apart, they can still resonate with and transform one another. How much more so when they are present within the human body and closely connected to the heart and mind? Yin and Yang correspond to the sun and moon, while water and fire are the evidence of their workings.

The “Office of the Torch” in the Rites of Zhou: Section on Autumn is recorded as overseeing the use of a wooden yangsui, a fire-making instrument, to draw fire from the sun, and a fangzhu, an instrument for collecting water, to draw water from the moon. The Huainanzi says that when the fangzhu is turned toward the moon, droplets of water condense on it. Gao You explains that the fangzhu is a yin-sui, shaped like a large clam. After being rubbed and warmed thoroughly, it is turned toward the moon, and water appears.

The earth lies who knows how many tens of millions of miles from the sky, and the sun and moon hang in space, who knows how many tens of millions of miles from the earth. Yet a yangsui turned toward the sun can obtain fire, and a fangzhu turned toward the moon can obtain water. Why does this resonant transformation happen so swiftly? What is more, the human body is much closer to oneself. Within the chest there are already water and fire, and the heart contains the ingredients needed for cultivation—the vital essences and Qi used in Neidan (internal alchemy). Should one not turn the light of awareness back inward, gather the spirit, and seek the mystery of this resonant transformation?

Consider, too, how on the night of the full moon on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, a rabbit deep in the mountains conceives, while a clam in the vast sea forms a pearl. How can these things resonate and transform in such a wondrous way? Human beings live between Heaven and Earth and are the most spiritually endowed of all creatures, yet they cannot draw upon Heaven and Earth’s workings or take hold of the creative power of transformation. They are even outdone by rabbits and clams. Have those who seek immortality ever given this matter serious thought?

Broadly speaking, when Yin and Yang unite and share the same nature, resonant transformation arises naturally. Wei Boyang used the yangsui to draw fire and the fangzhu to draw water as analogies, intending cultivators to focus their attention inward, so that something formed and tangible might emerge from the formless, through a resonant transformation like this. The Treatise on Returning the Elixir says: “As soon as the two kinds of Qi join, rain like sweet dew descends; when the two kinds of Shen meet, jade nectar begins to flow.” This principle is indeed real.

Mirrors and pearls are both luminous and pure, transparent inside and out, without the slightest flaw. Thus they can receive the light of the sun and moon and gather it into a single bright point. Even though the sun and moon are separated by immense distances, they respond at once. Stillness and settled calm allow things to gather; once gathered, they take form. As soon as movement scatters them, they dissipate and return to nothing. If people can quiet and empty the mind and spirit, settle inwardly in peace, and let no distracting thought intrude, then the light of their own “sun and moon” will gather without dispersing. In time, when the breath is settled and the moment is ripe, wondrous effects will arise naturally.

Ultimately, the highest Dao is not far away; it is right before us. It is like a lodestone drawing iron: even with an obstacle between them, they connect unseen, so close is their affinity. People have simply lost their way and forgotten to return; they cannot seek within. Zhuanxuanzi’s poem says: “Speak earnestly with your teacher: the Way is cultivated nowhere else; it is right before you.” It also says: “In years past, I received a single formula from my master; I must draw the curtains close and observe it with care.” These words are exceedingly apt.

The ears, eyes, and mouth are the “Three Treasures” that must be guarded in cultivation. They should be drawn inward and firmly contained so that their energy does not dissipate outward.

The Yinfu Jing says, “The harmful influences of the nine orifices hinge on these three: the ears, the eyes, and the mouth.” Wei Boyang called them the “Three Treasures,” meaning that practitioners should draw in their hearing and sight, and prevent the Qi of the throat and tongue from leaking outward. They should gather their spirit and breath within, as if safeguarding precious treasures.

This is like steaming rice in a pot: seal the lid tightly and keep the fire burning beneath it. With no gaps for the steam to escape, heat gathers inside, and before long the rice is cooked. Cultivation in a quiet chamber works the same way: draw back the gaze, listen with focused attention, and keep the mouth closed while gathering saliva. Let no Jing or Qi leak away, and the “medicine” can gradually form until the “Great Elixir”—the goal of Neidan cultivation—matures. If the ears are drawn to sounds and the eyes captivated by appearances, while Jing and Qi continually dissipate through the ears, eyes, and mouth, how can one hope to obtain the Returning Elixir?

The perfected person, one who has attained the Dao, remains hidden in the depths and drifts freely to and fro, while also keeping to the “center of the compass”—the centered, essential point spoken of in cultivation.

“Real Person” refers to the Original Spirit, the innate spirit that is present from the beginning; in other words, it means the Original Spirit. “Deep Abyss” means the Great Abyss. Though these names are many, they all refer in practice to the same place. It is sometimes called the Muddy Pellet Palace, the upper Dantian in the head, and is also known as the Flowing Pearl Palace, Jade Clarity Palace, Mysterious Gate, Heavenly Pass, Heavenly Heart, Heavenly Pool, Purple Mansion, Jade Capital, Summit of Kunlun, Penglai, and upper Dantian. The scripture’s terms “Upper Mystery,” “Upper Origin,” “Upper Valley,” and “Upper Earth Crucible” are also other names for this place. The Cui Xu Pian says, “In heaven are the Seven Stars; on earth are the Seven Treasures; the body’s seven apertures all belong to the brain.” The Taigu Ji says, “When the Golden Elixir is carried to the Muddy Pellet Point, first record your name in the Jade Capital.”

Thus, the method of “the Emperor returning to the One” is to let Original Qi travel along the meridians and rise to nourish the Muddy Pellet. When the Qi in the brain is full, the spirit can be complete; when the spirit is complete, the body too can be sound. Wei Boyang wrote, “The Real Person sinks into the deep abyss, floating and roaming while keeping to the center of the compass.” This means following the true breath, the natural breath, as it moves to and fro, allowing true Qi to rise and descend of itself, so that from dawn to dusk the Original Spirit remains settled in the Muddy Pellet.

The Huangting Jing says, “If you wish for long life, you must cultivate Kunlun.” The Jingzhong Yin says, “I cultivated Kunlun and attained the true secret.” The Fuming Pian says, “You must sow and cultivate an acre of heavenly field within your own home.” The Huanyuan Pian says, “Once you have awakened to the Dao, your mind becomes clear and open; sit calmly and set the Heavenly Pass in motion.” These passages describe an exceedingly simple method of cultivation: gently activate the gateway at the crown of the head, lifting it evenly and silently. The three palaces will then naturally rise and descend, while the whole body, its bones and limbs, and its various apertures will naturally become unobstructed.

It is like moving a great ship that holds ten thousand bushels with a single long pole, or firing a powerful crossbow capable of launching a thousand jun with a trigger only an inch long. Cultivation takes little effort; only the unenlightened fail to believe it. Some people visualize Lord Lao seated in the Muddy Pellet Palace and silently bow to him. This, however, is unnecessary.

Shen and Qi circulate like a wheel, turning and winding as they move, observing everywhere, with opening and closing responding to one another. They are the pivot of their own movement, so their activity is never exhausted, whether in motion or at rest.

The Book of Supreme Ultimate World Ordering says, “The pivot of Heaven’s spirit and clarity lies in the sun; a person’s spirit and clarity issues from the eyes.” That a person’s spirit and clarity appears through the eyes is of great significance. At birth, it comes into being before Heaven and Earth; at death, it departs before Heaven and Earth. The Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—converge within it; the numinous Qi of the five organs—the liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys—gathers there; and the seven subtle substances of saliva, nasal mucus, Jing, fluids, Qi, blood, and liquid also coalesce there. When it is vast, even Heaven and Earth can contain it; when minute, not even a mote of dust can hold it. Is this not the supreme treasure within the human body?

The Secret Instructions for Penetrating the Mystery Within says, “Gather in the radiance of Shen, and you have the medicine of long life; transform your form and bones, and you may become a perfected immortal of the highest rank.” It also says, “Gather the radiance of both eyes before you; refine it, and you can transform yourself into an immortal.” The scripture points this out so directly, yet some who study the Dao still fail to understand. This is truly because they do not see clearly enough.

The Three Officials—the Officials of Heaven, Earth, and Water in Daoism—rise and descend, coming and going in an endless cycle, like a wheel in constant motion. Their function lies in the heart, like the wheel’s axle; their key lies in the eyes, like the pin that secures the axle. The Poem of the Golden Flower says, “The immortal child only keeps watch before the cave gate, while the perfected ones of the Three Isles are always coming and going.” This is precisely the principle it describes.

Li Qi, associated with Fire and referring to the Qi of the heart and Shen, nourishes and circulates through the nutritive and defensive Qi within the body. Kan, associated with Water and often referring to the kidneys and ears, no longer depends on hearing. Dui, associated with Metal and often referring to the mouth, joins without expressing itself in words: speak little, remain quiet, and accord with the undivided Qi of primordial chaos. Once the gates of Li, Kan, and Dui have been closed, relax the body and dwell in stillness within a quiet chamber.

“Let the Qi of Li nourish the inner organs” means allowing the Qi of Li Fire to circulate within the body and nourish both body and mind: draw in the gaze and turn it inward, so the light of Shen does not leak away. “Kan is not used for hearing” means not letting the ears chase sounds from the outside world, but listening quietly inward, so the spirit of hearing is not scattered. “Dui joins without speaking” means speaking little and keeping stillness; let the mind remain at ease and peaceful, as quiet as ashes, silently nurturing the “sacred embryo” within—the Neidan or original Shen spoken of in cultivation. Once these three faculties have been gathered and settled, relax the body and cultivate in a quiet, empty room.

“Relaxing the body” means remaining at ease and not tiring oneself; “dwelling in an empty room” means entering a quiet chamber. Keep it free of clutter, with only a stick of incense, a lamp, a small table, and a bed. The place for sitting in meditation should not be too bright, or it will harm the Hun; nor should it be too dark, or it will harm the Po. The Hun favors brightness, while the Po favors darkness; brightness belongs to Yang, and darkness to Yin. For this reason, the Cui Xu Pian says that a quiet chamber should face east to receive the morning sun. It may also have a bright window, so that the room catches the evening light. It further advises not to put out the bright lamp or burn Baihe incense.

Entering a quiet chamber to cultivate is an exceptionally important opportunity, no trivial matter. The Wuzhen Pian says, “This Dao is supremely divine and sacred; I fear your blessings may be too slight to bear it.” This means that the path of cultivation is wondrous and exalted, and that some people may have too little good fortune to sustain it. It is therefore not something that people lacking virtue can casually seek.

A quiet chamber need not be set in the mountains or forests; one may also cultivate in a bustling town or a Daoist temple. Any place is suitable, provided there is a proper place to live. Some may wonder why the Wuzhen Pian says one should live in a major town and rely on the help of people with means. This is because, before the great medicine has been refined, the body is still unable to withstand cold and heat, and clothing is needed throughout the year. While the true Qi is not yet abundant, hunger and thirst remain, and food is still needed three times a day.

Wu Daling completed his cultivation with the support of his two friends Zhang and Cheng; Zhang Ziyang was aided by Mr. Ma and Mr. Lu; Wang Chongxi received help from Fu Han Gong; and Li Changyuan was cared for by friends and family in Junyang. Refining and nourishing the fire cycles of the Zhou Tian requires continuous, undivided effort, without interruption. One also needs capable people who share one’s aspirations to protect, provide for, and care for the practitioner, so that hunger, cold, and hardship do not consume Jing and Qi, and the practitioner can devote himself fully to cultivation. The Song of the Golden Liquid Returning to the Elixir by Yin Zhenjun says, “Without the right conditions, do not act recklessly.” The Wuzhen Pian also says, “The treasure of life must not be handled lightly.” Those who have truly received the authentic transmission of this Dao will understand the proper measure.

Draw the mind and intention inward, returning them to a state of emptiness, stillness, and clarity, and maintain this state at all times.

“Draw the mind and intention inward, returning them to a state of emptiness, stillness, and clarity” means allowing no other thoughts to mingle in the mind and not letting one’s intention wander outward, but abiding throughout the day in a state of true emptiness. “Maintain this state at all times” means letting thoughts continue without interruption and allowing the breath to remain in harmony over time with the transformations of the Dao.

Some may feel that this method resembles Chan Buddhism. Yet Golden Elixir cultivation is concerned with bringing forth existence from nonexistence and nurturing it until the “infant” is formed—a term in Neidan practice for the state in which the Elixir has been completed. It is not simply a matter of sitting vacantly with one’s face to a wall, like withered wood or cold ashes. Bai Ziqing’s Recorded Sayings states: “The foremost secret of Elixir cultivation is to gather Qi and concentrate Shen. Constantly clenching the fists to gather the breath is called gathering Qi; silently guarding the mind with each thought is called concentrating Shen. If practitioners know only to be free of mind and thought, but do not know to gather Qi and concentrate Shen, they will fall into inert emptiness. How could they attain the fetal immortal—the term in Neidan practice for one who has completed the Elixir?”

The effects of cultivation will become apparent as time passes. When the mind and spirit are focused, they will not scatter or wander.

Three measures of cultivation will bring three measures of verification; ten measures of cultivation will bring ten. If you cultivate diligently, without pause day or night, then after a hundred days you may begin to feel the two kidneys as if heated in a boiling broth, the bladder as if a fire were burning within it, a numinous light in the eyes, strange sounds in the ears, unusual fragrances in the nose, sweet saliva in the mouth, and a warm, comfortable ease throughout the body.

These sensations change day by day as cultivation proceeds. What matters most is to remain focused and guard your practice. Do not let your thoughts wander at will, for if you have not truly understood the principles, you may be misled by illusory visions while sitting in stillness, half asleep and half awake. The Thirty-Nine Chapters on Pointing to the Mystery says: “Do not cling to visions that come from outside; keep your mind wholly focused on the coiling of the tiger and dragon”—with the tiger and dragon symbolizing the Yin-Yang Qi within the body and mind joining and gathering together. This is well said.

Ding Lingyang’s Instructions on Mind and Nature says that when the mind is deeply gathered during seated meditation, one may suddenly see all kinds of visions—immortals and Buddhas, ghosts and spirits, towers and pavilions, or radiant lights—as if they were right before one’s eyes. At such times, do not let the mind stir or give rise to liking or aversion. The master says: One’s own mind and nature are originally empty, clear, and vast. However these visions may change, if the mind remains unmoved, all false and deviant appearances will naturally recede. As long as the heart-fire does not stir recklessly, Shen and Qi will come together, the child and mother will remain united, and Water and Fire will naturally harmonize. When Water meets Fire, it naturally transforms into Qi, rising as vapor and permeating the body’s openings. Once the flow of Qi is unobstructed, the hundred vessels will be regulated, and the four limbs and all the bones will feel at ease. Guard the practice carefully, and the Way of cultivation will naturally accord with it.

Wang Bing’s Recorded Sayings from Pan Mountain says that the many visions practitioners see while sitting in stillness are all transformations of their own conscious spirit—the awareness in the mind that discriminates and brings visions into view. These visions appear through meditation and lure the practitioner’s mind and spirit. The ancients said, “Whatever takes visible form is illusory.” If the mind tries to dispel these visions, as long as the conscious spirit remains active, it may still produce all kinds of forms, including the faces of gods and ghosts, disturbing the mind and spirit. If the mind and spirit remain unmoved, then seeing is like not seeing. The body and mind become like empty space, without a trace, and the visions naturally disappear.

The Guanzi says: When people suddenly see strange things in their ordinary daily lives, it is because their Jing and Qi have gathered in some way, producing these appearances. When they suddenly see strange things while ill, it is because something is lacking in the mind. If one understands that the mind can bring forth existence from nonexistence, one will also understand that it can discern nonexistence within existence. As long as one does not believe in these visions, they will naturally cease to seem numinous. Someone asked: If consciousness has already become confused, who can help believing them? The reply was: A snake catcher is not afraid of snakes in his heart; even if he dreams of a snake, he will not be frightened. The Yellow Emperor said, “The Dao has no ghosts or spirits; it can come and go alone.” Taken together, these teachings make clear that Wei Boyang’s words—“Keep the mind focused and do not let it roam freely”—are indeed an essential instruction for practitioners.

When sleeping at night, let spirit and breath remain joined and embrace one another. After waking, pay attention to whether the power of internal alchemy is still present.

Essence and Qi arise in their own time. When the moment arrives, spirit will naturally perceive it. In cultivation throughout the day and night, the greatest danger is for the spirit to grow dull and confused. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or engaged in other activities, keep your attention steady. Guard it gently, as if present and yet barely perceptible, like a hen incubating eggs. Let the warmth continue without interruption: this is cultivation. After long accumulation and mature practice, day and night are no longer distinct, nor are sleep and waking. Even in dreams, spirit does not grow clouded. When essence and Qi stir, spirit naturally connects with Heaven; there is no need for anyone to wake you, because you will perceive it on your own. Xia Yunfeng’s words, “The natural season arrives, and even in a dream one is made to know,” describe this state. Wei Boyang said, “In sleep, spirit embraces itself; upon waking, discern whether it remains or has departed.” His point is that practitioners must remain clear and alert at all times.

The great Golden Elixir, the essence and Qi produced through internal alchemy, forms by the union and congealing of spirit and Qi. It is the formless becoming something formed: the “sacred embryo,” the fetus that takes shape in internal alchemy. Practitioners must guard it diligently for ten months, like a young woman newly pregnant, or a young dragon beginning to nurture a pearl. When spirit and Qi have just congealed, they can easily disperse. During sleep, let spirit and Qi remain joined; do not sink into dreams in a state of dullness. After waking, attend to the continuation of the internal alchemy, lest the fire phase grow cold and impede its progress. Thus, throughout all twelve double-hours of the day, day and night alike, maintain focused attention and steady watchfulness. In this way, practice matures, the ingredients required for cultivation—essence and Qi—are not depleted, and the fire phase does not break off. How could you leave it unattended even for a moment?

The complexion gradually grows radiant, and the joints become firmer and stronger.

This is because the most precious treasure is stored within the body, while its essence naturally shines outward. It is like jade hidden in a mountain, which nourishes the plants and trees; or pearls formed in a deep pool, so that the banks do not wither.

Only after dispelling the various Yin influences can upright Yang energy be established.

The Wuzhen Pian says: “When all the yin impurities within the body have been removed, the inner elixir is complete. One can then break free of constraints and live for ten thousand years.”

From head to toe, everything in the human body that has form is regarded as yin and turbid. The methods of immortal cultivation bring substance forth from emptiness, drawing a trace of true Yang from between Heaven and Earth and congealing it into the elixir’s embryo. Thereafter, the alchemical firing process proceeds without pause, day and night, refining away the yin energy. After ten months, the “fetus” of the inner elixir matures; after three more years of cultivation, the work is complete. At this point, the body is transformed into a purely Yang body, and its physical form changes as well, becoming that of an immortal.

During cultivation, the movement of Qi never ceases, flowing like clouds and rain. It is also like spring rain nourishing all things, or water flowing after ice and snow have melted. The Qi and fluids move downward from the head to the feet, then rise again, circulating endlessly within the body and reaching the boundless realm—as though something were faintly taking shape in a mountain valley.

The Secret Method of Inner Direction and Penetrating the Mystery says: “Cultivate the Great Elixir without pause, day and night; its essence rises to the crown of the head, as though the hundred spirits were all moving within it.” This means that one should practice in seclusion for a year without interruption, day or night. When the work has accumulated to a certain point, its effects will naturally appear. The harmonious Qi within the body, flowing freely, circulates throughout; it is like mountain clouds rising day and night, or fine, nourishing rain falling across the fields. It is like spring water filling lakes in every direction, or river ice on the verge of melting. Qi moves up and down within the body, passing through the hundred channels and opening every part. It fills the limbs, and the chest seems to brim with springtime. The body feels as though mildly intoxicated.

The Mirror for Compounding the Medicine says: “The Qi of before Heaven, the Qi of after Heaven—those who obtain them are always as if intoxicated.” The Collected Works on Numinous Radiance also says: “Circulating in reverse, one seems like a drunkard; within, the whole truth is complete, free from worry and delight.” These are all effects that appear through the work of cultivating the Elixir.

Ding Lingyang’s Collected Works on Turning Back the Radiance says: If not a single thought arises and the mind and spirit remain unmoving, then the essence of Great Yin in the Dantian’s Qi sea—the vital essence spoken of in inner cultivation—passes through the Weilü point at the base of the spine. It rises along the spine, passes through the two passes, Fengfu, and Niwan, the inner crown-of-the-head center used in cultivation, then returns through the Bright Hall and the bridge of the nose, entering the Flower Pond, where saliva gathers in the mouth, and turning into sweet fluid. Swallow this sweet fluid. It passes through the throat and nourishes the five viscera and six bowels until it reaches the Dantian. Then it circulates up and down, filling the whole body and repeating its course, reaching every part. If one practices in the morning but stops by evening, and one’s resolve is not single-minded, how could one attain such a state?

“Reversal is the evidence of the Dao; weakness is the handle of De.” Here, “reversal” means circulation back and forth. The Dao De Jing says: “Attain utmost emptiness; maintain profound stillness. As the myriad things arise together, I observe their return.” The effects of Elixir cultivation come from taking emptiness and stillness to their utmost and bringing them into accord with Heaven and Earth. Only then does primordial Qi revive with the first Yang arising. If emptiness and stillness are not deep enough, it is like building a mountain nine ren high and falling short of completion by one basket of earth. How could one expect to see the effects?

“Weakness” means softness and gentleness. The Dao De Jing says: “Concentrate the Qi and attain softness; can you be like an infant?” The foundation of Elixir cultivation lies in holding firm to one’s resolve and nourishing the breath, keeping the Qi from becoming agitated, and remaining gentle like an infant. If one does not hold firm to one’s resolve or nourish the breath, one gains not even the slightest amount while already losing a great deal. How could one establish the foundation of cultivation?

Once all distracting thoughts and accumulated impurities have been cleared away, even the subtlest parts can become harmonious and flow freely.

When all thoughts have quieted, every part of the body is brought into balance. Turbid, harmful Qi dissipates, and the Dao can remain ever present. This is like a farmer clearing weeds: only when they are pulled out by the roots and prevented from growing back can the crops thrive. Immortals practicing Neidan (internal alchemy) likewise seek to remove accumulated impurities, dispel ghost-corpse influences—the Yin-turbid Qi that obstructs cultivation—and settle the six sense faculties: the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. They empty and still the five aggregates, the five kinds of elements that make up the body and consciousness. By maintaining stillness, clarity, and luminous emptiness in right mindfulness, they can cool the five organs, harmonize the six bowels, free the body’s 360 joints from obstruction, and open all 84,000 pores.

Turbid Qi turns into clear Qi; what has long been dim eventually becomes bright.

The Cui Xu Pian says, “When spirit and Qi merge in obscurity and Qi gathers in one place, flesh and bone blend together, and one is not even aware of it.” At this stage, the Qi of the three fields—the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (energy centers)—is full, and a person drifts as though in a drunken dream. Can this not be called dullness and turbidity? Those who cultivate must never grow lax when they reach this state. They should understand that prolonged dullness gives way to brightness, and prolonged turbidity gives way to clarity. When the time is ripe and the movement of Qi changes, messages from the Nine Heavens disperse into the embryonic spleen, the place where Qi is conceived and transformed in Neidan cultivation. The spirit water, a term for bodily fluids or Qi refined within the body, becomes clear, and the Flower Pool, where fluids gather in the mouth or body, grows still. White snow falls in all directions, the terraces of the Seven Treasures rise tier upon tier, and the yellow flowers before the pavilion unfold into a distant, wondrous scene. All this gradually appears with vivid clarity amid the state of drifting uncertainty. Can cultivation’s final stage truly remain confined to dullness and turbidity?

The sixth volume of Developing the Meaning of the Zhouyi cantong qi comes to an end.

Volume Seven: Third Section of the Middle Part

People in the world often favor minor arts and techniques, failing to understand that the Great Dao has both shallow and profound aspects. They abandon the proper Way and turn instead to side paths, eager for quick results, only to find that they cannot make progress. This is like a blind person going without a cane, or a deaf person trying to distinguish musical notes; diving underwater to catch pheasants and rabbits, or climbing a high mountain in search of fish and dragons; sowing wheat but hoping to harvest millet, or using a compass to obtain a square. They exhaust their strength and wear down their spirit, yet accomplish nothing even after a whole year.

The Great Way of the Golden Elixir requires the long-term accumulation of Jing and Qi to be cultivated to completion; it can never be achieved in a single leap. Practices such as forming the embryo, establishing the foundation, entering the chamber, and refining and nourishing each have their own time and sequence. One cannot meet a master today and become an immortal tomorrow.

It is lamentable that cultivators in the world are often misled by hearsay. They cannot distinguish profound Daoist methods from shallow ones, nor upright masters from corrupt ones. They pursue quick results single-mindedly and favor only a few superficial techniques. Some know one side of a matter but not the other; some understand the foundations of cultivation but not how to put them into practice. Bound by prejudice, they believe they already know enough. They may even spread false teachings, disparage the orthodox path, and distort the true scriptures to deceive later students. Many pass error on as truth and confusion as understanding.

Some clever people, however, are unwilling to humble themselves and seek instruction from others. They would rather pore over old books on their own, hoping for sudden insight. How is this different from a blind person refusing to use a cane? Those who do not understand the fundamental principles of cultivation yet piece together elixir texts through guesswork are like deaf people trying to discern the notes of a tune. To take the navel as the Mysterious Pass—the crucial gateway or pivot in Neidan cultivation—is like wading into the water to catch pheasants and hares. To take the eyes as the Flower Pool, the place where saliva is said to gather in Neidan practice, is like climbing a mountain to find fish and dragons. Some study the art of gathering and mating, seeking longevity through sexual union, and delude themselves into thinking this will make them immortal. Others sit rigidly in emptiness and silence, expecting to gain long life. These practices are like sowing wheat and expecting to harvest millet, or using a compass to measure a square. Those who remain stubbornly deluded only waste their efforts; they grow old still confused, having achieved nothing. It is truly a pity.

The method of taking elixirs is, in fact, quite simple in its essentials; it is not complicated.

The Thirty-Nine Chapters on Pointing to the Mystery says: “What manifests within the body is the true Elixir; what enters from outside is not born of oneself.” This means that the Elixir forms within the human body and need not be sought beyond it.

Then why does Perfected Wei Boyang speak of “ingesting” it? Does that mean the Elixir comes from outside and is swallowed into the body? No. The Elixir forms in the Kan position, the direction associated with Water. Pressed by the force of Fire, it leaves its original place, travels through the Three Passes—the body’s three important inner gateways—and then descends to the mouth. This is why the process is called “ingestion.”

To say that the methods of cultivation are “utterly simple and free of complication” means that the instructions are extremely concise and easy to follow. But if so, there would have been no need to write The Token for Joining the Three at all. Why, then, does it go on at such length? The Awakening to Reality also says that the method of the Great Elixir is very simple, and that even someone ignorant and unlearned can cultivate it and immediately transcend the ordinary to become a sage. Yet it also says that those who refine the Golden Elixir must understand Yin-Yang and deeply grasp the principles governing the changes of nature. Why is this?

There is a reason. People with simple minds do not speculate much and are quick to trust. When they encounter a teacher, they follow the instructions directly, even without a detailed explanation. Clever people are different: they have broad knowledge and many doubts. If they fail to understand one point, they pursue it to the end. Unless they are allowed to investigate deeply the fundamental principles of Yin-Yang and the changes of nature, they may grow doubtful halfway through their cultivation. If they are then swayed by misleading teachings from side paths, they may stop in the middle, like a weaver who suddenly leaves the loom, and conclude that the true Way is unreal. For this reason, the principles must be explained clearly. Given this, how could Perfected Wei Boyang have written this book without stating them repeatedly and with care?

The Solar Flowing Pearl, a term for the essence of the sun and the yang essence in cultivation, is always inclined to leave the human body. At last it meets the Golden Flower, a term symbolizing the essence of the Golden Elixir, and the two begin to interact. They then transform into a white liquid, which gathers and solidifies, becoming hard as stone.

“Solar Flowing Pearl” refers to numinous mercury. In Neidan (internal alchemy), mercury symbolizes Jing and Qi that flow readily and are difficult to retain. The Song of the Great Dao of the Numinous Source says that this substance has no fixed place and changes at any moment according to a person’s thoughts and intentions: heated within the body, it becomes sweat; meeting wind in the nose, it becomes mucus; joined in the kidneys, it becomes Jing (essence); and stirred by grief in the eyes, it becomes tears. This shows how it is always trying to escape from the body. Golden Flower refers to “true lead,” which in Neidan symbolizes the root that can gather and consolidate Jing and Qi. When mercury obtains true lead, it turns to depend on it. Naturally, it no longer scatters and flees, but remains within the body, transforms into golden liquid, and congeals into a solid form.

True lead, or Golden Flower, first stirs into action and, in an instant, dissolves into water, taking a crisscrossed shape like horse teeth. Yang Qi then joins with it, and feeling and innate nature naturally respond to one another.

True lead is born in the Kan position, an orientation in the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) associated with water, the kidneys, and related images. It first appears as a liquid and only later congeals. After congealing, it transforms into the Yellow Sprout, which is why its shape is compared to “horse teeth in a crisscross pattern.” The Verdant Void Treatise says, “The Elixir’s source is simply precelestial Qi; refined into the Yellow Sprout, it brings forth jade blossoms.” This is what the passage means. Lead is likened to the ruler and mercury to the minister: lead acts first, and mercury responds, as when a ruler initiates and a minister follows. Lead belongs to Metal, and mercury to Wood. Wood is drawn to Metal, and Metal is attached to Wood; Yin and Yang, being of the same kind, resonate with each other and naturally unite.

“Seize the fleeting moment of Yin; constrain and store it within the sealed gate” means to grasp the moment when Yin Qi changes, gather and contain Jing and Qi, and seal them within the body’s inner apertures.

At the moment when Yin energy is nearing its end and Yang energy is about to arise, this opportunity must be seized in time. Once gathered, it should be drawn back and stored in the furnace for gentle cultivation. The Treatise on Returning to the Source (Huan Yuan Pian) says, “If one accords with Heaven’s mechanism, who can know where the Elixir congeals?” To “accord with Heaven’s mechanism” means to seize the moment when Yin energy is nearing its end; the “place where the Elixir congeals” means to bind and gather the essence and Qi that have been collected, then seal them away in the furnace.

In cultivation, when Yin energy has reached its height and is about to turn, one should welcome the first arising Yang energy and advance the fire—that is, use the proper degree of fire to nurture the substances. This must be done neither too early nor too late; this is called “pressing close upon the moment when Yin is waning.” As the fire advances, the Qi throughout the body’s hundred channels should be brought back to its source and made to pass through the barriers of the nine apertures. Then the ruler fire, minister fire, and people’s fire—terms in Neidan for different degrees of fire—should all be gathered in the Yellow Palace, the central place in alchemical practice, and used to nurture the supreme treasure to completion. This is called “confining and storing it behind the forbidden gate.” The Mirror for Entering the Medicine (Ru Yao Jing) says, “The spirits of Heaven and Earth are wondrous; their transformations are extraordinary.” If one does not seize the turning of Yin and Yang when the moment is pressing, and does not gather and seal away the substances, how can one obtain the hidden workings of creation?

A loving mother raises her child; when the dutiful child grows up, it repays her kindness. In this way they join together, swallow and receive one another, and repeatedly chew and mingle. A stern father issues commands, teaching and urging his descendants.

If one cannot seize the crucial moment when Yin energy is nearing its end, or gather and seal away the substances, how can one obtain the hidden workings of creation?

A loving mother raises her child; when the dutiful child grows up, it repays her kindness. In this way they join together, swallow and receive one another, and repeatedly chew and mingle. A stern father issues commands, teaching and urging his descendants.

When true lead—the substance symbolizing Yang essence in Neidan—comes into being, it is nurtured in the womb of the Kun Mother, the Yin body that symbolizes the mother, like a loving mother raising her child. When it rises to the Qian Palace, the place symbolizing Yang, it subdues true mercury, the substance symbolizing Yin. After joining with true mercury and congealing into the Elixir, it returns to the place of the Kun Mother. This is like a dutiful child repaying its mother’s kindness, and like a young crow feeding its mother once it has grown. Yet without fierce heating and thorough nurturing, true lead cannot rise. This is the meaning of a stern father giving orders, teaching, and urging. The Book of the Jade Mushroom (Yuzhi Shu) says, “Lead cannot rise without fire; mercury cannot congeal without lead.” These words contain subtle and profound principles. How could they be explained lightly?

The Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—move in interplay, each relying on the others for generation. Fire’s nature is to refine Metal, while Metal in turn restrains Wood, allowing Wood to flourish.

The usual account of mutual generation among the Five Phases is that Metal generates Water and Wood generates Fire. This follows the phases’ sequence and is their ordinary course. In the language of alchemy, however, Wood and Fire first act upon one another, and Fire in turn generates Wood. When Metal and Water join, Water in turn generates Metal. Thus the Five Phases move in an interwoven order, coordinating with one another to generate each other.

“Fire’s nature melts Metal” means using the fire of the southern Li position, which symbolizes Fire, to refine the Metal within the Water of the north. “Metal fells Wood, allowing it to flourish” means using the Metal within the Water of the north to restrain the Wood within the Fire of the south.

“The three and five unite as one: this is the most subtle thing between Heaven and Earth. It can be transmitted through oral instructions, but is difficult to write down and pass on.”

The “three” here means that Water is one and Fire is two; when the two combine, they make three. The “five” refers to Earth. “The three and five unite as one” means that Water, Fire, and Earth blend together and become a single current of Qi. At this point, the dark and the yellow sustain one another, while the clear and the turbid have not yet separated. It is like the beginning of Heaven and Earth, before chaos has opened into form. Before long, the moment arrives and Qi begins to change: something emerges from nothing, and in the shadowy stillness an elusive, indistinct scene appears. It gradually gathers into a mass, within which the most subtle essence between Heaven and Earth is born. Qu Tu Shenhe said, “If you can understand the principle by which the three and five unite as one, you can become an earth-walking immortal.” Its mysteries require direct oral transmission and cannot be fully written on paper.

The Zi position, one of the twelve earthly-branch directions, should turn to the right, while the Wu position rotates eastward. The Mao and You positions form the dividing line, which is why the terms “host” and “guest” are used.

The Zi position is in the north. Yang energy turns from the west into the Zi position, symbolizing the tiger arising in water. The Wu position is in the south. Yin energy turns from the east into the Wu position, symbolizing the dragon appearing from fire. Zi and Wu correspond to north and south and also symbolize Water and Fire; Mao and You correspond to east and west and also symbolize Metal and Wood. When one turns right and the other circles left, one sinks while the other rises. Water and Fire can then meet, and Metal and Wood are no longer kept apart.

The Returning to the Origin Chapter says: “The Jade Rabbit and the Golden Rooster cycle back and forth. The Dao is within the human body, yet people often lose their way. Everyone knows how to harmonize Water and Fire, but in the end, how many understand east and west?” Here, “east and west” and “Mao and You” are both other names for Metal and Wood. They do not refer to the directions of heaven and earth, nor to the left and right sides of the body. Yet neither can they be sought elsewhere, apart from oneself.

Alas, many people in the world these days are false and affected, putting on Daoist robes and calling themselves cultivators of the Dao. Ask them what Metal and Wood are, and they fall silent, like the mute. Without a teacher’s true guidance, one can only speculate from one’s own guesses and will never understand.

“The dragon breathes toward the tiger; the tiger draws in the dragon’s Jing. The two mingle with each other, as if devouring one another, each seeking to unite with the other.”

The dragon here refers to the dragon of the southern Li trigram; the tiger refers to the tiger of the northern Kan trigram. In alchemical practice, the dragon is made to breathe downward and approach the tiger, and the tiger then takes in the dragon’s Jing. With one breath out and one breath in, they mingle and become one. The Thirty-Nine Chapters on Pointing to the Mystery says: “If you know how to make them swallow one another and return to a single place, the way of the immortals can be accomplished in an instant, without effort.” This method is considered exceptionally wondrous and easy, yet learners often do not know what the dragon and tiger actually refer to.

Yinghuo (Mars) lingers in the west, while Taibai (Venus) stretches across the sky. Wherever the force of slaughter reaches, what can escape being overturned?

“ Mars watches over the West” means that Mars remains in the western quarter, symbolizing Fire entering the position of Metal. “Venus traverses the sky” means that Venus moves to the southern position of Wu and becomes visible. In alchemical practice, the spirit’s fire is directed into the position of Metal. Pressed by the force of the fire, true Lead rises and appears in the south. The Treatise on Returning Metal says, “It sinks to the bottom of the sea, then emerges carrying the sun.” This describes the process. Here, “Metal” refers to true Lead. Wherever the power of fire reaches, how could anything fail to be subdued? True Lead rises and captures true Mercury, which then comes forth of its own accord and joins true Lead. Yuan Yangzi’s Song of the Great Dao says, “Once the White Tiger has met it here, how could the Flowing Pearl refuse to follow?” This means the same thing.

When spirit enters Qi and congeals into an embryo, it is like a civet watching over a mouse. When the ingredients receive the force of fire and are refined into an elixir, it is like a sparrow fearing a pheasant. Because different things can restrain one another, when they meet, one naturally subdues the other, and so neither dares make a sound.

If you do not understand these principles, you cannot speak recklessly about them. The Treatise on Returning Metal says, “Without understanding the roots of Yin-Yang, you waste your effort talking about mysteries.” If you do not understand the principles, how can you presume to speak on the basis of your own guesses? From ancient times to the present, countless people have been drawn to alchemy. They have searched far and wide for so-called precious ingredients and consorted with itinerant charlatans, exhausting their family fortunes and even driving brothers, wives, and children apart. Yet they never found the true method, even by the end of their lives, and those who truly succeeded in the world were rarer still. This is because they took the wrong path at the outset, went against the Dao, and never encountered a true teacher to guide them. As a result, they never understood the principles.

When one truly encounters this Great Dao, one can see its beginnings and grasp its guiding threads. By observing the likenesses among different things and tracing the principles that carry all things from beginning to end, one can understand the transformations between Heaven and Earth. Great or small, high or low, sentient or insentient, all things embody these principles and can be understood by analogy.

For example, cranes call in the middle of the night and roosters crow at the fifth watch because their activity responds to the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Cicadas draw in the wind, rhinoceroses gaze at the stars, old clams hold the moon, stubborn stones conceal jade, butterflies open and close their wings, fireflies flicker, cats’ pupils contract and expand, deer swing their tails in reverse, turtles regulate their breathing, giant sea turtles reflect images, bellows stir the wind, droplets draw in water, lodestones attract needles, and amber gathers bits of grass. Water-raising devices and perch draw water; calamus and rice blossoms gather dew; snakes hibernate through winter; fish live in water; silkworm pupae transform; crickets chirp; hens brood eggs; rabbits carry young; cattle produce yellow matter; dragons hold pearls; plum pits produce kernels; and sweet melons detach from their stems. All these phenomena can serve as analogies for the principles of Golden Elixir cultivation. The vitality of banana plants in the spring wind, the changes revealed in parasol trees by autumn rain, the night moon reflected in a deep green pool, and evening clouds above green mountains are also images of the Golden Elixir—symbols that embody the principles of cultivation. Zhang Ziyang said that those who refine the Golden Elixir must thoroughly understand Yin-Yang and deeply comprehend the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth. He was right.

The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) can overcome one another and also turn to generate and nourish one another, as parents do. The mother’s side contains nourishing fluid, while the father’s side imparts innate nature.

The key to Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation lies in the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Their mysteries are concentrated in the Kan and Li trigrams. Kan belongs to Water: when Metal joins with Water, Metal is contained within Water. Li belongs to Fire: when Wood corresponds with Fire, Wood is contained within Fire. These are the Four Symbols. Add Earth in the form of Wu Earth within Kan and Ji Earth within Li, and the Five Phases are complete.

The Wuzhen pian says: “The dragon of Zhen, Mercury, emerges from the homeland of Li; the tiger of Dui, Lead, is born in the region of Kan. These two things arise because the child is born from the mother; for the Five Phases to be complete, they must all enter the center.” It also says: “If Wu and Ji are absent from Li and Kan, then though the Four Symbols are present, no Elixir can form. Only because each contains true Earth does the Golden Elixir return.” The meaning is that although Li and Kan possess the Four Symbols, Wu and Ji Earth must also harmonize them, allowing the Five Phases to gather at the center and form the Golden Elixir.

Neidan cultivation uses Fire to refine Metal and Metal to cut Wood. When Fire grows strong, Water is used to regulate it; when Water grows strong, Earth is used to restrain it. This is called the mutual overcoming of the Five Phases. Metal generates Water: Water is Metal’s child, yet Metal can also be generated within Water. Wood generates Fire: Fire is Wood’s child, yet Wood can also be generated within Fire. This is like the continual transformation of the parent-child relations among the Five Phases. The father is like Heaven and the mother like Earth: Heaven’s Qi descends to Earth, which receives it and brings forth life. Hence the saying, “The mother contains the nourishing fluid; the father governs what is bestowed.”

The Chilong Dadanjue says: “The marvel lies in Heaven joining with Earth; its efficacy is to return and restore.” The Cuixu pian says: “The father’s essence and the mother’s blood join to form an embryo; its shape resembles another’s, yet also resembles mine. Within the body, recognize our true father and mother; only then can you grasp the essence of the Five Phases.” If practitioners can bring their own inner Heaven and Earth into union, allowing the Five Phases to gather and transform within the body, they can gradually harmonize through their interaction and ultimately form the “sacred embryo,” a term in Neidan cultivation for the sign that the Elixir has been completed.

When the essences of the Five Phases gather, metals and stones can endure without decay. The essences of the Five Phases condense in Heaven and Earth, and become either metal or stone, which remain uncorrupted for thousands of years. If people turn their gaze inward and seek the essences of the Five Phases within themselves, they too can make them gather and tend toward immortality.

The essence of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) gathers between Heaven and Earth. Some of it transforms into metal, some into stone, and neither decays even after thousands of years. If people could turn inward and seek within themselves, gathering the essence of the Five Phases in their bodies into a treasure, they too could endure as long as Heaven and Earth. What is there in metal and stone worth esteeming?

Be cautious and single-minded, and do not let Jing, Qi, and Shen disperse; then you can cultivate the right Way.

“Single-mindedness” means setting aside distractions and devoting yourself to cultivation, keeping your attention on it throughout and not letting your intention wander. “Not leaking” means settling the mind and guarding inwardly, like a hen sitting on her eggs. If the spirit and intention stray outward, gather them back and keep them within body and mind. Only through such cultivation can your practice become mature: the ingredients—the Jing, Qi, and Shen needed for cultivation—will not be depleted, the firing process will not be interrupted, and the Way can be attained.

People of shallow understanding are misled by inferior, deviant teachings. They think that pressing a hand against the Weilü (near the base of the spine) and blocking the impure fluids released during sex counts as “not leaking.” They do not understand that even if semen is not discharged, the spirit and Qi have already dispersed. This merely causes stagnant, deteriorating matter to accumulate around the waist and may even bring about strange illnesses. It is truly foolish. The Surangama Sutra says: “If you do not put an end to sexual desire but practice meditative stillness, it is like swallowing sand and expecting it to become rice; after a hundred thousand eons, it will still be nothing but hot sand.” How much more, then, does the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, which cultivates both nature and life, demand of us? The Cui Xu Pian says: “To prolong life and overcome decline, cutting off sexual desire is merely a sideline path. If you truly wish to preserve your form and endure in the world, you must use the firing process to refine a divine elixir.” Those who study the Dao should consider this carefully.

Raise a bamboo pole, and its shadow appears at once; call into a mountain valley, and the echo immediately answers. Is this not a clear response? These are the most evident signs in Heaven and Earth.

When a bamboo pole is raised, a shadow appears; when one calls toward a mountain valley, an echo can be heard. Whatever is stirred must receive a response. The sun and moon hang high in the sky; take fire and it can kindle a flame, draw water and water is obtained. Such responses are so swift—are they not wondrously subtle? Yet although everyone in the world can see these phenomena, few understand the principle behind them.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “The Sun Crow (the golden crow in the moon, referring to the sun) and the Moon Rabbit (the jade rabbit in the moon, referring to the moon) are two full spheres. Their source lies in the precelestial realm, and it is not easy to draw them forth. On the night of the full moon, if one can seize the moment and draw them forth, the heavenly soul and earthly po will congeal into a numinous elixir.” If practitioners can, on the night when the sun and moon face one another, grasp the key to the workings of Heaven and Earth, then bring their own inner “sun and moon” into union and radiance, their internal true Qi will resonate with the response of the external world. The numinous elixir will then form naturally, after which it can be refined through the Qi of the sun and moon.

If someone swallows an inch of wild kudzu root and an ounce of croton seed, they will collapse and stiffen as soon as the substances enter the mouth, unable to bend forward or raise their head. At such a time, even if King Wen of Zhou divined for them, Confucius interpreted the trigrams, Bian Que applied acupuncture, and Wu Xian beat a drum and performed rites, how could they make the person wake, rise, and walk again?

Wild kudzu root and croton seed are among the most poisonous herbal medicines. Take a sufficient dose of either, and one will collapse and stiffen at once. Even if King Wen of Zhou, Confucius, Bian Que, and Wu Xian each divined, interpreted, applied acupuncture, or performed rites, they could not bring the person back. Yet people believe that poison, once swallowed, can bring death quickly, but do not believe that a numinous elixir, once swallowed, can confer longevity. This shows a remarkable unwillingness to think.

Mercury of the River (an image for mercury in Daoist alchemy) is numinous and wondrous: at the sight of fire it flies apart, leaving no trace, as though spirits had vanished and dragons and snakes had hidden themselves, so that no one knows where it is. To subdue it, one must take Yellow Sprout (a key ingredient or symbolic substance in alchemy) as the foundation.

True Mercury comes from the Li trigram. Li belongs to Fire, symbolizes the woman, and occupies the direction of Wu. If we speak in terms of the celestial divisions—the system that linked the star mansions in the sky with regions on Earth—Wu...

True Mercury, an alchemical term for a mercury-like substance endowed with a nature that is subtle and transformative, comes from the Li trigram. Li belongs to Fire and symbolizes a woman; its direction is noon. According to the ancient system of regional divisions, noon corresponds to the Three Rivers, hence the phrase “released above the river.” Tracing its source, it is obtained when practitioners still the mind and gather the spirit. In fact, it arises from within the heart, and is therefore also called “numinous mercury” or “spirit mercury.”

True Mercury is fierce by nature: when it meets fire, it scatters and vanishes without a trace, like spirits withdrawing from sight or dragons and snakes hiding away, so that no one knows where it has gone. Without Yellow Sprout—the true Lead, another alchemical substance—as its foundation, it cannot be brought under control. Only when True Mercury and true Lead join and bind together will Mercury cease to scatter. True Lead is therefore called the foundation for refining the Golden Elixir.

When things lose the harmony of Yin-Yang, they go against the Way of Heaven and their own source. If a hen incubates eggs by herself, without mating with a rooster, the chicks that hatch will be imperfect. Why is this? Because Yin and Yang have not yet been joined, the Qi of the Three and Five has not mingled, and firmness and softness remain apart.

Only when Yin and Yang join and complement each other can this be called the Dao. When one is dominant—whether Yin or Yang—things become unbalanced. It is like a hen incubating eggs by herself, without a rooster, and hatching imperfect chicks. The reason is that Yin and Yang have not been joined, the Qi of the Three and Five has not mingled, and firmness and softness remain apart.

Only when Yin and Yang are in harmony can they be called the Dao—the natural order of things. An excess of either Yin or Yang leads to imbalance. For example, if a hen lays eggs without mating with a rooster, the eggs will never hatch into chicks. Why? Because Yang alone cannot bring forth growth, and Yin alone cannot bring anything to completion.

The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality), a classic of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), says: Do not mistake solitary Yin for Yang. If you cultivate only one thing, your efforts will be in vain. Deliberately exhausting the body through massage and therapeutic exercises has already strayed from the Dao; refining Qi (vital energy) and nurturing Shen (spirit) without knowing the proper method can also lead you astray. People everywhere seek the union of lead and mercury—terms from alchemy that often stand for Yin-Yang essence and energy. When will they truly bring the dragon and tiger, symbols in Neidan for Yin and Yang, into union? I urge you to investigate the root of life deeply and seek the elixir by returning to the source.

If you can turn the light around and look within, gathering your spirit inward so that Yin and Yang unite within you, then firmness and softness will complement each other, and the “three and five”—a Neidan term for related numbers of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases—will return to unity. Why seek them outside yourself? The Huanyuan Pian (Treatise on Returning to the Source) says to harmonize Yin and Yang within yourself. The Yuzhi Shu (Book of Jade Zhi) says that Yin and Yang cannot be obtained from another person. The Huandan Zuan (Collected Sayings on the Reverted Elixir) likewise says that Yin and Yang must be sought within oneself. How could you leave yourself and seek them elsewhere? The Cuixu Pian (Treatise on the Void’s Emerald Green) says it is better to learn a sound and steady method of cultivation from a teacher than to engage in depraved sexual conduct and recklessly take another’s essence and blood. An old saying holds that all things between Heaven and Earth can be brought back to oneself. One should learn the method of Wuwei (non-action) and stillness. The Golden Elixir is the Dao of stillness and non-action. Some people become absorbed in deviant teachings and believe that refining the Golden Elixir requires a woman’s help. This is utterly absurd.

The laws by which all things come into being arise from the natural order of Heaven and Earth, just as fire rises and water flows downward. No one teaches them to behave this way. They move according to the fundamental laws they receive from Heaven and Earth, and those laws cannot be changed at will.

Heaven and Earth transform and nurture the myriad things. Water flows downward to moisten, while fire blazes upward. Is this brought about by human effort? It happens naturally. Within my own body, there are also Heaven and Earth, water and fire. Are their movements and transformations likewise brought about by human effort? They, too, simply happen of themselves.

The “Chapter on Pointing to the Mysterious” says, “One must also understand how the paths of east and west come together. The key is to bring the upper and lower Dantian (energy centers where Jing, Qi, and Shen are cultivated within the body) into harmony and coordination.” The human body takes Heaven and Earth as its model: the head is Heaven, and the abdomen is Earth. Simply gather the mind and spirit and abide inwardly, neither striving after anything nor deliberately letting go. Make the breath through the nose even, neither hurried nor restrained. Then the changes of opening and closing, sensing and receiving, will arise naturally, in keeping with the patterns by which Heaven and Earth transform and nurture things.

When the time is ripe and the breath changes, the inner movement of Qi will stir and become apparent, like a sound in the natural world. At that point, fire rises from below the navel, and water arises at the crown of the head. Their mysteries unfold of themselves; they are not attained through exertion of the mind and body. This path is formed by the natural order of Heaven and Earth and remains constant. Wei Boyang, author of the “Token for Joining the Three,” was concerned that students might not understand how Yin and Yang relate above and below within the body. So he used the transformations of Heaven and Earth and the rising and descending of water and fire as comparisons, explaining the matter in detail and with clarity.

Observe the union of female and male: firmness and softness join together, close and inseparable. To grasp their timing and the moment of accord does not mean using techniques to force or control them.

The Quanzhen Collection says, “When the breath is regulated and the spirit is settled, intercourse takes place between breaths.” The Cui Xu Chapter compares this to a husband and wife joining, when a drop of essence and blood condenses into an infant. The “intercourse” of the Golden Elixir refers to Yin and Yang responding to one another within the body, and to spirit and Qi joining and condensing. Expressions such as “the male within the female” and “husband and wife” are all metaphors.

The Returning to the Source Chapter says, “When spirit and Qi return to their root, and body and mind recover their original life, this is the true, subtle opening—one that few people are likely to know.” When spirit enters Qi, spirit and Qi unite, and their union accords with the proper measure, a state arises in which hardness and softness bind together and are difficult to separate. This union does not come about through the manipulation of techniques. It happens naturally: one sees that it is so, yet cannot explain why. Truly, it is subtle.

When boys are born, they lie face down; when girls are born, they lie face up. These postures take shape from the moment they receive the breath in the womb. They can be seen not only at birth, but as people grow older, and they appear again at death. Parents do not teach them these postures; they are a pattern of life established at the beginning of the joining of Yin and Yang.

Chu Huagu’s Discourse on Pine Doubts says, “When Qi gathers and closes, it becomes female; when Qi opens and spreads, it becomes male. Through one closing and one opening, male and female are distinguished.” In his commentary on the Heart Seal Scripture, Li Yuxi likewise says that men and women receive this pattern, which manifests at birth and death. The point is that this difference does not arise from parental instruction; it has its source in the innate order formed when Yin and Yang join.

Chu Huagu’s On Pines and Doubts says: “When Qi expands outward, it forms the male; when Qi closes inward, it forms the female. Through opening and closing, male and female are distinguished.” In his commentary on the Scripture of the Heart Seal, Li Yuxi says: “The Qi received by men and women is originally the same. They are distinguished as Yin and Yang only because the order in which their influences respond and combine is different.”

The general meaning is this: Yang Qi gathers in the face, so a man’s face is heavier, and he often lies face down at birth. Yin Qi gathers in the back, so a woman’s back is heavier, and she often lies face up at birth. This is true not only at birth but also at death: men who drown are often found face down, while women who drown are often found face up. After drowning, animals too may be found either face down or face up. Could their parents have taught them to lie this way? These patterns arise because, from the moment people first receive Qi, the processes of opening and closing, and of coming first or later, are already established.

Why, when Wei Boyang explains the Way of clarity and stillness, does he also discuss the difference between men lying face up and women lying face down? He does so to help those who study the Way understand the changes in Yin and Yang above and below within themselves, and thereby recognize the patterns of natural transformation.

The Kan trigram belongs to Yang and symbolizes men and the Moon; the Li trigram belongs to Yin and symbolizes women and the Sun. The Sun bestows its favor, and the Moon spreads its radiance. As the Sun and Moon move and change, neither loses or harms its own essential nature. If Yang Qi loses the proper measure of its union with Yin Qi, Yin Qi intrudes into Yang brightness, bringing about changes such as the dark and new moons, and the meeting and concealment of the Sun and Moon. When Yin and Yang cover one another, Yang Qi diminishes its form and Yin Qi takes advantage of the moment to encroach upon it, calamities follow.

When the central yang line of the Qian trigram exchanges places with the central yin line of the Kun trigram, the Kan trigram is formed. Kan therefore symbolizes the middle son. When the central yin line of Kun exchanges places with the central yang line of Qian, the Li trigram is formed. Li therefore symbolizes the middle daughter. Li has Qian as its root, yet its central line is Kun’s yin line: yang contains yin, so Li symbolizes the sun. Kan has Kun as its root, yet its central line is Qian’s yang line: yin contains yang, so Kan symbolizes the moon.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Li occupies the position of the sun, yet is assigned to the female; Kan is paired with the lunar palace, yet is assigned to the male. Those who do not understand the principle of yin and yang reversing their positions should not make grand claims on the basis of shallow understanding.” This means that the relationship between yin and yang in the human body can also be reversed, and those who cultivate the Dao must not judge it by superficial appearances.

The sun bestows its virtue and symbolizes the way of the husband; the moon gives off its radiance and symbolizes the way of the wife. Now, assigning the moon to Kan, the male, is like a woman becoming a man; assigning the sun to Li, the female, is like a husband becoming a wife. This is precisely what the reversal of yin and yang means. Although the sun and moon transform in relation to each other, neither loses its own nature, because yin and yang depend on one another.

Solar and lunar eclipses occur when the sun and moon reach a point of intersection in their courses. When the sun and moon are opposite each other, a lunar eclipse can occur; when the moon obscures the sun, a solar eclipse can occur. Thus, solar eclipses take place around the new moon, and lunar eclipses around the full moon. Yet eclipses occur at some conjunctions and not at others: they happen when the sun and moon intersect, and not when they do not. Wei Boyang uses the sun and moon as metaphors for the alchemical Dao—the Daoist practice of internal refinement—and repeatedly discusses the dark moon, the new moon, and the sun and moon covering one another. His meaning is profound. Those who cultivate the Dao should turn their light inward—that is, gather their awareness and observe themselves—to seek the sun, moon, and lunar phases within their own bodies.

The Shangqing ji says: “Watching the Dipper’s handle circle through the heavens, one suddenly grasps the wondrous secret of the immortals. True Yang stirs in Kan, filling the vacancy in the Li Palace. Since ancient times, Qian and Kun, Li and Kan, sun and moon have moved without cease. This year at the winter solstice, the plum blossoms are still laden with white snow. The sages of old withdrew from the world on this day and had no dealings with those outside, all for the sake of living beings. All things contain the impulse to give birth; it arises at the beginning of the Zi hour and the end of the Hai hour. Creation works without sound or trace: fire is born in water, and its mystery lies in the Xu-Wei point, a specific location in traditional star lore and internal alchemy. Now that the secret has been seen through, the Golden Crow, the sun, flies into the Moon Toad’s cave, the lunar palace.”

These words directly reveal the celestial secret and clearly set forth the essentials of the Dao. They further confirm that the principles Wei Boyang describes are clear and true, and that he did not mislead later students.

Male and female depend on each other, nourishing one another by alternately expelling and receiving. The masculine and feminine intermingle and unite, each seeking what shares its nature.

The terms “male and female” and “masculine and feminine” here reveal the essentials of the Dao. They also confirm the words of the perfected Wei Boyang, showing that these principles are indeed trustworthy.

Male and female depend on each other, nourishing one another by alternately expelling and receiving. The masculine and feminine intermingle and unite, each seeking what shares its nature.

The male and female, the masculine and feminine, refer to the two forces of Yin and Yang within ourselves. When their Qi natures accord, one naturally expels while the other receives, and their union forms an embryo. The Shangqing ji says: “Within one’s own body there are already husband and wife. If I told the world, I fear they would laugh.” This speaks of the path of inner cultivation. Practitioners should understand it through purity and Wuwei (non-action), and not interpret it through deviant views.

Metal transforms into water, whose nature is to flow swiftly. Fire transforms into earth, and the water can no longer flow.

Metal is born in the Kan palace, the direction that symbolizes water. At first it is only Qi; it has not yet transformed into water. Because the true fire of the sun—a Neidan term for Yang energy in cultivation—lies hidden below, the metal is melted into water. Water rushes forth in a vast flow: who can stop it? Yet when fire’s heat reaches its extreme, it transforms into earth. Once fire has become earth, earth can restrain water. When water meets earth, it comes to a halt and cannot continue flowing.

Thus the man stirs and releases outward, while the woman is still and gathers inward. If the action goes beyond its proper measure and loses restraint, the woman will check it. The Po can restrain the Hun, preventing it from becoming excessively unrestrained.

The Ruyao jing says: “Water can flow and fire can burn; this can be verified within oneself.” Therefore, when harmonizing lead and mercury—Neidan terms that stand for the forces of Yin and Yang—to refine the elixir, one must avoid excess and loss of restraint. The Kan man, symbolizing the Yang side, stirs and acts outwardly; the Li woman, symbolizing the Yin side, is still and gathers inward. If either side exceeds its proper measure and loses restraint, the Li woman will check it, so that Hun and Po balance one another and do not become excessively unrestrained.

It is neither cold nor hot; advance and withdrawal both accord with the right timing. Each side attains harmony, and both then release their corresponding signs.

When seeking the medicinal substances, one must regulate the firing process. The fire must be neither too intense nor too weak. It need only remain even and balanced, so that Yin and Yang can unite. The Fuming Pian says, “When firmness meets softness, the breath becomes even; the subtle art lies in not injuring Dui and Zhen.” In general, the key is to value balance.

Cinnabar—the red mineral used in alchemical practice—is the essence of Wood. It can unite with Metal only after it has obtained Metal.

Yuan Yangzi’s Song of the Great Dao says, “Know cinnabar: it is the essence of Wood. Move it to the West, and it will unite with Metal.” The saying “where Metal and Water unite, Wood and Fire lead the way” refers to how different alchemical substances and the Yin-Yang energies are brought together. Mercury is light in nature and tends to rise and scatter, making it difficult to control. Only when it is placed in the lead furnace and united with lead does it cease to scatter.

Wood and Fire guide the place where Metal and Water unite. The four blend into one and are called the Dragon and Tiger. The Dragon belongs to Yang, whose number is odd; the Tiger belongs to Yin, whose number is even.

Heaven’s One generates Water, which is located in the north and is symbolized by the Black Tortoise. Earth’s Two generates Fire, which is located in the south and is symbolized by the Vermilion Bird. Heaven’s Three generates Wood, which is located in the east and is symbolized by the Azure Dragon. Earth’s Four generates Metal, which is located in the west and is symbolized by the White Tiger. Each of the four guards its own direction and has its own symbol; originally, they had nothing to do with one another. The phrase “Metal and Water unite; Wood and Fire lead” refers to the Yang Dragon emerging from the Li Palace, which represents the south and the direction of Fire, and the Yin Tiger arising from the Kan position, which represents the north and the direction of Water.

Since the four each have their own symbol, one might expect all Four Images to be named together. Yet the Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise are left unmentioned, and only the Dragon and Tiger are named, because north and south form the vertical axis, while east and west form the horizontal axis. “Metal and Water unite” means that the Metal symbolized by the White Tiger of the west descends into Water. “Wood and Fire lead” means that the Wood symbolized by the Azure Dragon of the east rises into Fire. Thus Metal no longer remains in the west but joins with the Water of the north; Wood no longer remains in the east but responds to the Fire of the south. The White Tiger thereby transforms into a Black Tiger, and the Azure Dragon into a Red Dragon. These color changes illustrate how Metal and Wood are transformed after entering Water and Fire.

When Metal, Water, Wood, and Fire come together as one, they are blended and undifferentiated, like the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) before it divides. When they are arranged as two, they appear as the Zhen Dragon, symbolizing Wood and Mercury, emerging from the direction of Li, and the Dui Tiger, symbolizing Metal and Lead, arising in the direction of Kan. Zhang Ziyang, a Northern Song internal alchemist, understood the essential point and summed it up in a single phrase: “The Four Images do not depart from the two substances.” Later practitioners did not understand what the Four Images actually referred to. Some took the eyes, ears, nose, and tongue to be the Four Images; others identified the liver and lungs as the Dragon and Tiger. Such interpretations depart from the original meaning, making the origins and development of this teaching even harder to understand. How, then, could they grasp the subtlety of the phrase “The Four Images do not depart from the two substances”?

The liver belongs to Wood and is green, like the father; the lungs belong to Metal and are white, like the mother; the heart belongs to Fire and is red, like the daughter; the spleen belongs to Earth and is yellow, like the ancestors; and the kidneys belong to Water and are black, like the son. In this way, the Five Phases generate and complete one another. These relationships form a single family, and ultimately all return to Wu and Ji, the Heavenly Stems Wu and Ji, which are commonly used to represent central Earth.

The “Cui Xu Chapter” says: The liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, along with the intestines and gallbladder, are like empty rooms and old fences. Saliva, mucus, semen, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids can serve only as aids to cultivation, as steps toward ascending to a higher state. This means that the Golden Elixir is the wondrous Dao by which something comes forth from nothing; it is not refined from tangible, material things.

Someone asked, “Why did Wei Boyang use the five viscera in his explanation?” The answer: He did not mean that the five viscera should be put to practical use; he used them as metaphors for the Five Phases (Wuxing). The liver’s green color and the lungs’ white color illustrate Wood and Metal; the heart’s red color and the kidneys’ black color illustrate Fire and Water. Metal generates Water, and Wood generates Fire, so the liver and lungs are compared to parents, and the heart and kidneys to children. Metal and Wood both arise from Earth, so the Earth of the spleen is called the ancestor.

Someone asked, “If the kidneys are the children, why are they also said to be the starting point of the Five Phases’ circulation?” The answer: The kidneys belong to Water, whose number is one. The Qi of the day begins at the hour of Zi: it first arises in the kidneys, then passes in sequence to the liver, heart, spleen, and lungs.

Someone then asked, “Why are the liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys not called the ‘five viscera,’ but instead the ‘three things of the Gu’?” The answer: When Metal and Water combine, Wood and Fire take the lead, and these are joined with the central Earth of Wu and Ji, they fall into three categories. The Four Images and Five Phases both depend on Earth. Without the Earth of Wu and Ji, the Golden Elixir cannot form. Thus, all these relationships ultimately come down to the Earth of Wu and Ji.

Hardness and softness rise in turn, revolving with the seasons and each taking its place in a different direction. The Dragon is in the west and the Tiger in the east, with Mao and You marking the meridian and parallel. Punishment and virtue meet together; when they encounter one another, there is both fear and joy. Punishment governs killing and subduing, while virtue governs growth and activation. When the elms shed their leaves in the second month, the Dipper’s handle points to Mao; when the wheat grows in the eighth month, the Celestial Dipper points to You. Zi is in the south and Wu in the north; they correspond to one another and form the guiding principles of movement.

The alternating rise of hardness and softness reflects the mutual support and continual movement of Yin and Yang. “Passing in turn through their divisions” means that they proceed successively through the various hours and directions.

“The dragon is in the west and the tiger in the east,” and the further statement that their paths correspond to the Mao and You directions, refer to the way that, when the celestial pattern moves, Mao and You meet, and Metal and Wood are no longer separated from one another. Here, dragon and tiger are terms from cultivation practice, symbolizing the Qi of Wood and Metal, respectively. Mao belongs to Wood in the east; You belongs to Metal in the west.

“Punishment” governs killing and concealment, like the austere force of autumn that draws all things inward and hides them away. “Virtue” governs the arising of life, like the force of spring that stirs all things to unfold and grow. The text explains this alternation of killing and generation through the monthly generals and the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches: the second month is marked by Mao, and its monthly general is Hekui (Xu). Since Xin Metal is present in Xu, the text says that Xin Metal’s killing force arrives at Mao. The eighth month is marked by You, and its monthly general is Tian’gang (Chen). Since Yi Wood is present in Chen, the text says that Yi Wood’s generative force takes its place at You.

“Zi is in the south and Wu in the north, serving as each other’s guiding principle” means that the positions of Zi and Wu are reversed, becoming the ordering principle of Heaven and Earth’s movement. According to the text’s account of celestial patterns, at the Mao hour in the second month and the You hour in the eighth month, the positions of east, west, south, and north undergo corresponding shifts and crossings. South and north are the vertical axis of Heaven and Earth; east and west are its horizontal axis. When the Qi within the cauldron shifts, the dragon moves west and the tiger east, while Zi lies in the south and Wu in the north. This resembles the changes manifested when Mao and You meet in the second and eighth months.

Thus, the Wuzhen Pian says, “In the months of the Rabbit and Rooster, and at their appointed times,” referring to the Mao and You months and their corresponding hours. “Punishment and Virtue arrive at the gate” uses the meeting of Heaven and Earth’s killing and generative forces as a metaphor for the moment when the ingredients are produced. “Image” means taking these changes as a model and comparing them. Wei Boyang used these celestial patterns to explain the principle, and his intention is already clear.

Yet some people cling to the words and outward celestial patterns, searching only in books and refusing to understand through their own experience. They confuse one another and find it hard to break free. In truth, Wei Boyang’s dragon in the west and tiger in the east, Zi in the south and Wu in the north, refer to the reversal of Heaven and Earth’s positions within the human body. Once one grasps the mystery of this inner reversal, one can understand in the mind how east and west form the horizontal and vertical axes, and how south and north guide one another. There is then no need to keep seeking outside oneself.

The “number sequence of nine” refers to the order in the Yijing expressed as “bearing nine above and treading one below”: it moves from one to nine, then returns from nine to one, rising and falling in an unending cycle.

“To contain the Origin in Xu and Wei, and sow essence at Zi” means that each day, when the sun reaches the Xu and Wei lunar mansions, it is as though primordial Qi is being nurtured there. At the Zi hour, around midnight, the movement of Qi reaches the Tail Gate, the pass at the lower end of the spine where the Governing Vessel begins, and true Jing arises from it. The subtlety of alchemical practice lies in first containing primordial Qi in its prenatal state, then generating true Jing in its postnatal state. The prenatal state is still and motionless, deep and unfathomable, before the Supreme Ultimate has divided. The postnatal state is responsive and flowing, elusive and hard to grasp, after the Supreme Ultimate has divided. In the prenatal state there is only a single Qi; only in the postnatal state does it transform into true Jing. The Cui Xu Pian says: “Half a jin of true mercury, half a jin of lead, born before the Void and the Supreme Ultimate. Seize them at the Zi hour; refine them into Golden Liquid and bring them into the Dantian.” This expresses precisely that principle.

Here, “Xu and Wei” refers to the transition from Hai to Zi, when Yin Qi is at its height and Yang Qi first arises. “The Zi hour” refers to the point where the first Yang is set in motion. From this comes the process in which “one Zi divides into mother and child.” Its subtlety lies in the lunar mansions Wei, Ji, Niu, Dou, and Nü. Practitioners should understand how Yin and Yang change within themselves.

“Guan guan cry the ospreys, on the river isle. The fair and graceful maiden is a fitting mate for the noble man.” The male and female ospreys stay together; neither lives alone nor apart. The Black Tortoise, a divine creature formed from a tortoise and a snake joined together, likewise coils and entwines, supporting one another. The scripture uses these images to explain how Yin and Yang correspond and depend on each other.

The ospreys call to one another as they dwell on the sandbars in the river. A gentle and lovely woman is the ideal mate for a noble man. Male birds do not live alone, and female birds do not dwell in isolation. The Black Tortoise, a divine creature formed from a tortoise and a snake, coils around itself and relies on its companion. This image illustrates how Yin and Yang, male and female, must ultimately unite.

Suppose two women shared a room. Even if they were exceptionally beautiful, even if Su Qin, the Warring States persuader famed for his eloquence, negotiated between them and Zhang Yi, another Warring States persuader, served as matchmaker, and even if their relationship were harmonized through artful and pleasing words spoken from the heart, they could marry and remain together until their hair fell out and their teeth rotted, yet they would never truly know one another.

If the substances used to make an elixir are not of the same kind, their names and properties do not correspond, or their quantities are improper and out of order, then nothing will help: not the Yellow Emperor standing beside the elixir furnace, the Great Unity deity tending the fire, the Eight Immortals pounding and refining the ingredients, or the King of Huainan blending them. Nor will it help to build a high altar, pave its steps with jade, present precious offerings, kneel for a long time with a prayer text in hand, and plead with the gods and spirits for mercy; nor will bathing and fasting, in the hope of divine assistance, make any difference. This is like mending a pot with glue, applying a prepared medicine to a sore, piling ice on ice, or using hot soup to dispel summer heat: the remedy has no relation to the condition. Even if the tortoise and snake were made to dance, the confusion would only grow worse.

The Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the fundamental principles of refining the Golden Elixir and cultivating the Dao—comes down, in the end, to the union of Yin and Yang. This principle applies to human affairs and to all things; nothing is exempt from it. Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for the Joining of the Three), draws on the pairing of the virtuous woman and the noble gentleman in “Guan ju” to illustrate the union of Yin and Yang, male and female, within the human body. He also uses the image of the Black Tortoise, a spirit creature formed from a tortoise and a serpent, and of the two coiling together, to show how Yin and Yang within the body depend on one another. These comparisons are rich and finely detailed, leaving almost nothing unaddressed.

For example, in the Xian hexagram, Dui represents the youngest daughter and Gen the youngest son; the two trigrams respond to one another and draw close. In the Kui hexagram, Li and Dui are both Yin trigrams, yet although they appear together in one hexagram, their aims differ. This shows that Yin and Yang must join with one another; one side alone is not enough.

The same balance and proper pairing of Yin and Yang are essential when refining the elixir in the furnace. If the ingredients are unsuitable or their proportions fall outside the proper measure, then even if the Yellow Emperor tended the furnace himself and Taiyi, deity of the fire, controlled its timing; even if the Eight Lords and the Prince of Huainan prayed over the work, refined and blended the ingredients; even if the altar steps were adorned with gold and jade and qilin and phoenixes offered in sacrifice; even if the practitioners fasted and bathed, held documents as they knelt for a long time, presented petitions written in blue and offerings written in red, and prayed to the spirits of Heaven and Earth, all would amount only to wasted effort and lost time. It would be like mending a broken pot with clay, treating a festering sore with niter, adding ice in the cold, or using hot water to treat a fever: each would only make matters more confused.

Some people cling to the saying, “The male does not dwell alone, nor the female live in isolation.” They claim that refining the Golden Elixir without a woman leaves one with solitary Yang, and so they recklessly cite this passage to support perverse and mistaken doctrines, while mocking the orthodox Way as misguided. This only shows that they overestimate their own abilities.

The sages of old embraced the Dao’s profound mysteries and preserved their pure, genuine nature.

To turn away from the turmoil of external things, hold fast to the spirit, and keep the mind calm: this was Guangchengzi’s method for guarding the mystery and embracing original simplicity. Guangchengzi was a legendary immortal of high antiquity. To regulate and nourish the breath single-mindedly, softening the body until it is like an infant’s: this was Laozi’s method for guarding the mystery and embracing original simplicity. As for Nüwa’s refining five-colored stones to mend the sky, and Ranxiangshi’s grasping the heart of things and bringing them to completion by following their course, these are the methods of the Elixir described by Lie Yukou (Liezi) and the Historian of the Lacquer Garden (Zhuangzi).

Those who study the Dao should not think that only people born with immortal bones can hope to become immortals. What matters is whether one is truly willing to act. If one is willing to persevere, nothing is beyond reach. What kind of people were the sages? What kind of people are we? If we take action, we too can become like them. Those who set their hearts on the Dao, if they can truly summon up courageous resolve and sustain their diligence, will practice tirelessly, day and night. When the time comes, Qi will naturally transform, just as water, wherever it flows, naturally forms a channel. Why worry that boiling a stubborn stone will never soften it, or that grinding an iron pestle will never turn it into a needle?

The only danger is that one may seek learning but never meet a clear-sighted master, meet one but fail to receive the true transmission, or receive the oral instructions but fail to hold fast to them. One begins practicing in the morning and expects success by night; one sits down to practice, then stands up hoping to see results. As soon as one gains a little, before it has taken firm root, one expends great effort in succession. The body’s foundations have not yet been restored, while harmful influences such as cold continue to invade. In such circumstances, even with Guangchengzi or Laozi as one’s teacher, and Liezi or Zhuangzi as one’s friend, nothing would help.

Ma Danyang, a Quanzhen Daoist, writes in his Jinyu Ji: “Make the refining of Qi your daily way of life, and the nourishing of the spirit your daily practice. Keep the Dragon and Tiger in harmony, and do not let the heart-monkey and will-horse run wild.” He also says: “Contemplate the Way of Heaven and follow the Great Dao; in silence, Yin and Yang can come together. The oral instruction handed down by the master says that Wuwei has the greatest efficacy.”

Those who cultivated the Elixir in ancient times quieted every distracting thought, forgot all things, made the heart clear and settled, and devoted themselves wholly to following the Great Dao. In stillness and concentration, they kept hold of a calm and pure Qi. Their exhalations were subtle and their inhalations long. The breath flowed without cease from the Mudball, the head’s cultivation center, down to the Gate of Life, the cultivation center at the waist; Shen and Qi remained joined at every moment. When the Neidan was nearing completion, primordial Qi would naturally settle in the Dantian and transform in unison with Heaven and Earth. It is said that the Yellow Emperor once spent three months in quiet retreat at the Hall of the Great Court, sitting in meditation and turning his gaze inward, and that this was the method he used.

This method of cultivation is simple and easy. Throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, one need only let the heart continuously govern the breath, keeping Qi joined with Shen. Then the body can endure for a long time, moving together with the sun and moon and circulating like the Celestial River, round after round, with life without end. The Zhixuan Pian says: “So long as each breath responds to the one before it, the body will gradually transform, and Jade Liquids will flow.” This is precisely the principle.

When exhaling, if the mind does not govern the breath, the breath is incomplete; the same is true when inhaling. The essential point is for the heart to remain joined to the breath, and Shen to remain joined to Qi, one thought following another until they gather as a single whole. Only then can form and Shen together reach the subtle realm and unite with the Great Dao in truth. The Lingyuan Dadao Ge says: “Shen is nature; Qi is life. When Shen does not scatter outward, Qi naturally settles.” The Xianyao Ji says: “When Qi and Shen meet, nature rests and life is stabilized.” Shen and Qi must never be separated, even for a moment.

Ordinary people are different. Although Qi breathes within the body, the spirit is constantly pulled away by external things. From childhood to adulthood and then old age, the spirit never settles within the body for even a moment. Shen and Qi therefore follow their own courses and cannot remain joined. In the end, it is as though the house has been emptied and its walls have collapsed, leaving the master nowhere to dwell. Is this because Heaven and Earth wish to kill them, or spirits and gods wish to harm them? In truth, they have lost the Great Dao and brought their own decline upon themselves.

Shi Bingzhen, the transmitter of the Zhong-Lü Chuandao Ji, says: “What we breathe out is the primordial Qi within our own bodies; what we breathe in is the pure Qi between Heaven and Earth. If the foundation is firm and primordial Qi is not depleted, then with each breath we can also draw in the righteous Qi of Heaven and Earth. But if the foundation is unstable, Jing and Qi are depleted, primordial Qi has already dissipated upward, and the body’s roots receive no nourishment, then the righteous Qi of Heaven and Earth that we breathe in will also leave with the exhalation. The primordial Qi within us will no longer belong to us, and in the end Heaven and Earth will take it away.

“For this reason, the immortals often say that gathering the medicine and refining it must be done at the right time. Once the body, the ‘cauldron vessel’ that stands for the foundation of cultivation in body and mind, has been ruined, it is difficult to restore. In his later years, Su Ziyou asked the immortal Zheng for guidance on nourishing life. She said, ‘Your cauldron vessel has already been ruined; it will be difficult for you to attain the Dao.’ The foundation needed for cultivation should be nurtured early in life. If one begins practicing only in old age, when Jing and Qi have declined, it is difficult to recover them.