《周易参同契注(朱熹)》

Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Yijing and the foundation of all the hexagrams. Viewed in terms of Heaven and Earth, Qian symbolizes Heaven and lies above, while Kun symbolizes Earth and lies below. Yin-Yang changes take place between them. Viewed in terms of the human body, Qian symbolizes the Yang Qi in the upper part, while Kun symbolizes the Yin Qi in the lower part. The transformations that generate and nourish all things within the body also arise from Yin and Yang interacting. For this reason, Qian and Kun are called the parents of all the hexagrams. The Yin-Yang changes described here also refer to the furnace and cauldron on which the refinement of the Golden Elixir depends.

Kan and Li are like a wheel turning around its center, rising and descending in cycles. Kun extends through the upper and lower positions, while Kan and Li rise and descend between them. This is the image of the Yijing in motion. In the Earlier Heaven arrangement, Qian is in the south, Kun in the north, Li in the east, and Kan in the west; together, they are arranged like a surrounding wall. The rising and descending of Kan and Li resemble an axle passing through the wheel hub and setting the wheel in motion, moving up and down in an endless cycle. The hub is the hollow part at the wheel’s center that supports the axle. The axle passes through it, allowing the wheel to turn.

The four trigrams that symbolize the joining of male and female are used to arrange the pivots of the process. The four trigrams mentioned here are Zhen, Dui, Xun, and Gen. “Female and male” refers to the pairing of Yin and Yang. “Pivot” and “key tube” are both metaphors for the key to governing the changes in the process.

According to the Najia method, a system of divination that matches the Heavenly Stems and lunar phases with the Eight Trigrams, Qian corresponds to the full moon and Kun to the dark of the moon; Kan and Li symbolize the rising and descending of Yin-Yang Qi. Zhen symbolizes the moon’s first appearance, Dui the first quarter, Xun the start of the moon’s waning, and Gen the last quarter. These changes are like keeping the rhythm of fast and slow when beating a drum.

Zhu Xi said that Shao Yong once remarked, “Qian and Kun establish the positions above and below, while Kan and Li are arranged on the left and right.” The opening arrangement of the trigrams in the Zhouyi Cantongqi broadly follows the same idea.

The principle governing the changes of Yin and Yang is like a charioteer holding the reins and bridle, proceeding according to the rules and the ruts in the road. One governs what is external from the center, while the measures of the process follow the calendar and numerical cycles.

This passage says that the human mind can govern Yin and Yang and propel the alchemical process like a turning axle. The bridle and reins represent the means of guiding Yin and Yang; the square and ink line represent the regulation of the fire phase; and the ruts represent the path followed by the rising and descending of Qi dynamics. “Center” refers to the mind, “outside” to Qi, and “numbers” to the fire-phase sequence of the sixty trigrams discussed below.

A month is divided into six periods of five days, which together form one cycle. Day and night are paired, using sixty trigrams in all. Day belongs to the firm, night to the yielding, and the firm and yielding each have inner and outer levels. Of the sixty-four trigrams, Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li serve other purposes; the remaining sixty represent the fire phase.

At dawn on the first day of the lunar month, the Tun trigram takes charge; at dusk, the Meng trigram succeeds it. One trigram is used for the day and another for the night, arranged and applied in sequence.

These sixty hexagrams are an example of how the hexagrams are assigned in rotation according to a fixed sequence. They go through one cycle in a month. This likely means that each day’s practice has its own times for beginning and ending.

The cycle runs from Ji Ji (After Completion) and Wei Ji (Before Completion) to the darkness and dawn at the end of the month, then begins again. Using the hours of the day as a measure of time, both active practice and quiet observance have their appointed times.

Ji Ji and Wei Ji refer to the hexagrams used at the end of the month: Ji Ji is used in the morning, and Wei Ji in the evening. “Shuang” refers to the time when the sky first begins to brighten.

In spring and summer, the arrangement follows the inner trigrams, from the Zi hour through the Chen and Si hours. In autumn and winter, it follows the outer trigrams, from the Wu hour through the Xu and Hai hours.

Spring and summer correspond to morning, while autumn and winter correspond to evening. “Inner structure” refers to the preceding hexagram, and “outer function” to the following one. This is another example of the sixty hexagrams being assigned in rotation. Later, the text pairs Tun with Zi and Shen, and Meng with Yin and Xu, using the Najia method—the method of assigning the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches to the hexagram lines—to explain this principle fully. In general, the main hours used in a day are Zi, Wu, Mao, and You.

Rewards and punishments correspond to spring and autumn; darkness and brightness follow the cold and heat. The hexagram and line statements convey ideas of benevolence and righteousness, while joy and anger appear in accordance with the seasons. With this arrangement across the four seasons, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) proceed in turn.

This passage says that practice differs between morning and evening, but its specific meaning is unclear.

Heaven and Earth take their respective positions, and the Yi operates between them. “Heaven and Earth” here refer to the Qian and Kun hexagrams; “establishing their positions” means arranging the positions in which Yin and Yang correspond. “Yi” refers to the Kan and Li hexagrams. Kan and Li are two functions of Qian and Kun.

Here, words from the Yi are cited to explain the functions of Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li: Qian is above, Kun below; Li descends, and Kan ascends. The two functions of Qian and Kun refer to Qian’s use of nine and Kun’s use of six. Nine represents old Yang, and six represents old Yin.

The “Use of Nine” and “Use of Six” in the Qian and Kun hexagrams do not have fixed line positions; they circulate and change throughout the six lines. They move back and forth without being bound to the upper or lower lines, and have no constant position. At times they lie hidden and concealed; at others they rise and fall within the hexagram. Encompassing all things, they serve as the guiding principles of change and movement.

The formless Dao can govern what has form, while the usefulness of a vessel lies in the emptiness within it. This draws on the words of the Laozi: clay is shaped into a vessel, and the vessel is useful because of the empty space inside. Extending this idea to the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang, Kan and Li are no longer fixed in any particular positions.

The Qian and Kun hexagrams each have six lines. The “Nine” and “Six” associated with line positions, as well as the “Use of Nine” and “Use of Six,” are not fixed to any single line. Each “Six” has a definite position, while the Nines and Sixes moving through the six lines express Yin and Yang circulating and rising and falling among those positions.

According to Najia, a method of assigning the Heavenly Stems to the Eight Trigrams to explain the changes of Yin and Yang, Qian is assigned Jia and Ren; Kun, Yi and Gui; Xun, Xin; Gen, Bing; Dui, Ding; Kan, Wu; Li, Ji; and Zhen, Geng. Each of the eight trigrams has its own fixed assigned stems, but the changes of Nine and Six themselves have no fixed position. The circulating changes of the central lines of Kan and Li can govern things with form; their effects appear in the empty spaces within vessels.

In the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang, “growth” means that Yang Qi increases: it passes through Zhen and Dui and eventually reaches Qian. “Decline” means that Yang Qi diminishes: it starts from Qian, passes through Xun and Gen, and eventually reaches Kun. The term “vanishing” here means having no fixed position. The later passage, “The Use of Nine moves in sweeping succession; it is the ancestral source of the Yijing,” conveys the same idea.

Zhu Xi said, “Someone asked, ‘Was the Cantong qi originally the Shangjing of the Dragon and Tiger?’ I replied, ‘No. Probably later people saw the phrase “Shangjing of the Dragon and Tiger” in Wei Boyang’s biography and forged this scripture. Most of it consists of excerpts from the Cantong qi, rearranged and compiled. Some passages are mistaken. For example, the so-called “two uses” originally refers to the use of Nine and the use of Six in the Zhouyi; Nine and Six also refer to Kan and Li. The “six voids” are the positions occupied by the six lines of Qian and Kun. Although the two uses have no fixed line positions, they move continually among the six lines of Qian and Kun, just as a person’s vital essence and Qi flow throughout the body, with no fixed place of rest. The Jing of the Dragon and Tiger, however, mistakenly calls them “Xu and Wei.” The author could find no precise basis for this, so he forced an interpretation based on a single character.”

The editorial note says: Peng believed that Wei Boyang had obtained the Ancient Text of the Dragon and Tiger but mistakenly thought it was the Cantong qi. Zhu Xi, by contrast, believed that this scripture was forged by later people. On examining the Cantong qi today, we find that it does contain some passages written in ancient style about the Dragon and Tiger. Documents of this kind may have existed in antiquity, such as the Fire Record, though they were not necessarily the same as the versions that have come down to us. Bao says that this scripture resembles the Book of the Three Mounds and the Fox-Head Scripture, and that its authenticity remains uncertain. On examining the Golden and Jade Ancient Text: Upper Scripture of the Dragon and Tiger, we find that it is briefer than the Cantong qi, but its wording and arrangement are much the same, and its structure is more orderly. At the end, it says, “The Fire Record was not made in vain”—a phrase also found in the Cantong qi. This suggests that the Fire Record may itself have been a source for the Cantong qi.

Words and arguments cannot be invented at will, nor do they arise from nothing. They must be supported by examples and examined and assessed according to the principles of the spirits. From the categories of things, one can infer how words are formed; the fundamental principles of things serve as verification. The Kan trigram, symbolizing water and the moon, corresponds to Wu Earth and represents the moon’s essence. The Li trigram, symbolizing fire and the sun, corresponds to Ji Earth and represents the sun’s radiance. Together, sun and moon form the character “Yi”: Yin and Yang, hardness and softness, complement one another. Earth holds the central position in all four seasons and runs through the beginning and end of all things. Green, red, white, and black each occupy one direction, yet all are governed by the central Earth. This is the function of Wu and Ji Earth.

This is also a way to explain how the character “Yi” is formed: Kan symbolizes the moon, Li symbolizes the sun, and when sun and moon join, they form “Yi.” Kan corresponds to Wu and Li to Ji; both return to the central position of Earth. The Five Phases of the four directions likewise receive the Qi of central Earth.

The Yi is images. Nothing suspended in the sky and shining with light is greater than the sun and moon. By probing subtle changes, one can understand the transformations of all things: when Yang Qi withdraws, Yin Qi follows. Yin and Yang revolve in cycles like spokes and a wheel, now appearing, now concealed, extending and then contracting.

This passage gives an overall account of how the sun and moon together form “Yi.” What follows explains the method in detail, including the arrangement of the firing times for alchemical practice over the course of a month.

From the dark of the moon, the last day of each month, until dawn on the new moon, the first day, the Zhen trigram, symbolizing the first stirring of Yang Qi, arrives and receives the seal of Heaven’s timing. At this time, Heaven and Earth unite their essences, and sun and moon join in accord. Yang Qi sets its subtle workings in motion; Yin Qi nurtures and enfolds the Yellow Sprout. Yin and Yang mingle in undifferentiated chaos, establishing the foundations of all things. They then cultivate and nourish them until boundaries and forms take shape, gathering spirit to make their bodies. All kinds of life are brought forth in this way, down to the tiniest insects.

Thus Confucius praised the primordial mingling of Heaven and Earth, saying that the virtue of Qian and Kun is profound, vast, and still. Looking to ancient accounts, people called this the Primordial Sovereign, the source from which all things arise, and held that the guiding order of Heaven and Earth was established through it. Yin and Yang join like a man and woman in marriage; their Qi links together, and all things begin to sprout. The sages did not invent their teachings from nothing. They looked up to observe the celestial patterns and examined the signs of Heaven’s timing. These celestial signs advance and recede, while their responses and expansions and contractions change with the seasons.

This book’s method of cultivation divides the month into six stages, each assigned to one of the six hexagrams: Zhen first, Dui second, Qian third, Xun fourth, Gen fifth, and Kun sixth. Each stage lasts five days. Thus, the month begins on the first day with the Zhen hexagram, symbolizing the beginning of the sun and moon, Yin and Yang, entering into interaction. Cultivation also begins at this time, just as the sages gave each of the Six Classics its own starting point. This is the central idea of the whole text. “The masculine Yang sows and spreads the mysterious; the feminine Yin transforms and enfolds the yellow” is also a key point in one section; the rest of the text serves to explain these ideas. Thus, the Changes encompass the foundations of the Way of Heaven, while the Return hexagram symbolizes the beginning of the sprouting of all things. The eldest son inherits the father’s form and relies on the mother to establish his foundation. The waxing and waning of Yin and Yang correspond to the tones of the pitch pipes, while their rising and descending changes follow the pivot of the Big Dipper.

Here the month is also divided into twelve stages, assigned in sequence to the twelve hexagrams Return, Approach, Peace, Great Strength, Retreat, Qian, Coming to Meet, Diminishing, Obstruction, Contemplation, Stripping Away, and Kun. Each stage lasts two and a half days. The Return hexagram corresponds to the inner trigram of Zhen in the six stages described earlier. The eldest son refers to the Zhen hexagram, the father to Qian, and the mother to Kun. The statement below, “On the first day of the new moon, one enters Return,” means that the Return hexagram stage begins on the first day of the month.

On the third day, the moon shows its clear light, and the Zhen hexagram corresponds to the Geng position in the west. On the eighth day, the Dui hexagram corresponds to the Ding position; the moon is at first quarter, with the boundary between light and dark straight as a string. On the fifteenth day, the Qian hexagram takes shape; the moon is full and bright, corresponding to the Jia position in the east.

The third day falls midway through the first stage, when the moon begins to show its light. At this time, the moon has just received one portion of Yang light from the sun and can be seen in the west at dusk, in the Geng position. The eighth day falls midway through the second stage, when the moon reaches first quarter. It has received two portions of sunlight and appears at dusk in the south, in the Ding position. The fifteenth day falls midway through the third stage, when the moon reaches opposition. Having received abundant sunlight, it is full and bright, and appears at dusk in the east, in the Jia position.

The toad and Jade Rabbit on the moon symbolize the Qi of the sun and moon. The moon receives the sun’s light. Around the fourteenth day of the lunar month, its light gradually grows stronger, and at dusk it can be seen in the southern Ding position. The fifteenth day marks the midpoint of the third phase. The moon is then full, having received all the sunlight; its brilliance fills the sky, and at dusk it appears in the eastern Jia position.

The toad and Jade Rabbit symbolize the sun and moon shining together. “Toad” is used as a loan word to suggest “gazing,” while “rabbit” is used to suggest “giving forth light.”

This passage describes the moon on the night of the full moon, when it has received the sun’s light completely. “Toad” refers figuratively to gazing, and “rabbit” to giving forth light.

After the fifteenth day, represented by “seven and eight,” the moon begins to wane, its light curving and diminishing. On the sixteenth day, it enters the fourth phase and begins to lose its fullness; at dawn it can be seen in the western Xin position. By the twenty-third day, the moon is in the Gen position and the Bing direction, entering its last quarter. On the thirtieth day, at the end of the sixth phase, the moon becomes entirely Yin: its light vanishes, and it lies hidden in the northeast. Here, the character “peng” is used as a loan for “ming,” meaning “bright.” Once the six phases of the month are complete, the Qi of Yin and Yang alternate, and the next month follows, like an eldest son succeeding his father. The moon is born anew as the Zhen trigram. Ren pairs with Jia, and Gui with Yi; both pairings belong to Qian and Kun, summarizing the beginning and end of the cycle of the Ten Heavenly Stems. From the dark of the moon to the first day of the next month, this passage describes the fire phase through the course of a month: the monthly sequence of timing in the process of cultivation and refinement.

The characters “Ding,” “Jia,” “Xin,” “Bing,” and “Yi” are markers that correspond to directions and the Qi of the trigrams. “Xun,” “Gen,” “Kun,” “Zhen,” “Qian,” and “Kun” are the names of trigrams from the Classic of Changes (Yijing), used to explain the changing phases of the moon. Through the moon’s passage from fullness to waning and from darkness back to brightness, the text describes the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang and the fire phase of cultivation over the course of a month.

Zhu Xi said that even within a single breath, one can find a parallel to the moon’s changes from the dark moon through the new moon, first quarter, full moon, and last quarter. At the first quarter, Qi begins to gather in, as though moving from above to below. At the last quarter, Qi begins to wane, as though moving from below to above. At the full moon, Qi reaches its fullness: the sun sinks below, while the moon is full above. Between the dark moon and the new moon, the sun and moon meet above. Expressions such as “raising water to extinguish fire” and “Metal returning to the beginning of nature” are metaphors for Yin-Yang union and a return to the original state.

Seven and eight together make fifteen, just as nine and six correspond to one another. Together, these four make thirty, and Yang Qi is then spent and lies hidden. “Suo” means “to be exhausted.”

The Eight Trigrams are arranged above, while the sun, moon, and stars shine and move. Their changes and shifts do not depart from the center. The subtle, mysterious essence and Qi are difficult to discern; one must calculate and measure them, then verify them by examining their signs. In quiet sitting, observe the heavens and compare them with their forms. Set up a gnomon as a standard, observe the seasons and their signs, and use them to judge good and ill fortune. Issue commands in accord with the seasons, without missing the moment when the hexagram lines stir into motion. Look upward to inspect the patterns of the Yellow River Chart, and downward to study the terrain and the flow of water. Then test these against human feelings and circumstances, comparing the three realms of Heaven, Earth, and humanity. In action, follow the measures indicated by the trigrams; in stillness, rely on the words of the Image Commentary. Only by putting the Dao of Qian and Kun into practice can the world be governed.

This passage draws on the saying, “When Qian and Kun employ nine, the world is governed.” “Qian and Kun employ” refers to Qian using nine and Kun using six. Some editions write “order” instead of “governed” in the original, possibly to avoid a taboo character during the Tang dynasty. From here through “the state’s foundation harms the Dao,” governance of the state serves as a metaphor.

This passage uses the governance of a state and celestial phenomena as metaphors to show that cultivation, too, requires careful attention to the foundations that govern the body and mind. The Five Latitudes refer to the five planets—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—and the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions are the “four sevens.” The scripture says that the sun and moon correspond to the Five Phases and the Six Pitch Standards, and that the celestial bodies move in a set order, circling and beginning again. The smooth or irregular movements of the stars were used by the ancients as symbols of good and ill fortune and changes in governance. If a ruler grows arrogant and complacent, or officials become corrupt and unjust, they depart from the proper course and invite wrongdoing. Officials responsible for enforcing the law investigate offenses, while administrative duties are divided among officials at different levels. The North Star stands centrally and in its proper place, symbolizing a ruler who remains upright and steadfast while allowing subordinates to carry out their respective duties. The Hall of Brightness was where ancient emperors governed and issued commands. These images of statecraft and the heavens are used to explain the teaching, and each has something worth reflecting on closely.

Cultivation begins with inner self-cultivation, quieting the mind until it is empty. Hold fast to the original source, keep the inner light from scattering outward, and then turn the mind and spirit inward to observe the body. Draw in the senses, lessen disturbance from the outside world, and strengthen the body’s vital foundation. The Three Lights are the sun, moon, and stars. “The Three Lights sink into obscurity” means allowing their outward radiance to grow still; it is a metaphor for gathering the mind and spirit and focusing on inner nourishment. The “pearl of the Zi” refers to the inner Jing and Qi nurtured through cultivation. It cannot be seen, yet it is not far away: the way to find it lies within oneself. As the inner principles gradually become clear, Jing and Qi can nourish the body and moisten the skin. Only by beginning cultivation on a sound footing can one achieve what follows; only by establishing a firm foundation can one persevere in the practice. This crucial point must be gathered and guarded through “the One,” and people of the world often fail to understand it.

This passage discusses crucial points in Neidan cultivation, especially the phrase “the light of the Three Luminaries sinks into concealment, nurturing the young pearl.” The images of the Sun, Moon, and stars are hidden away, while the “young pearl” within the Neidan—the newly formed Elixir Pearl—is gently nurtured. The earlier metaphor of an emperor governing a state refers to this key method: “the beginning of governing, the pivot and hub of the guiding framework.” “At the beginning, setting things right and establishing the foundation” refers to the start of cultivation; “at the end, completing cultivation and maintaining it” refers to preserving the practice to the very end. “The One is concealed” describes the hidden, unseen place where creation begins.

Those of high De (Virtue or Power) follow nature and do not rely on observation and speculation. Those of lesser De deliberately act and continually apply effort. “When the upper part is closed, it is called Being; when the lower part is closed, it is called Origin” describes the state of concealment at the two places: concealment above is called “Being,” and concealment below is called “Origin.” Origin serves to nourish what is above, where Shen (spirit) and De abide. This describes the principle governing the two apertures—key sites in Neidan cultivation where Yin and Yang meet and Qi moves. The Metal Qi also works in coordination with them.

Zhu Xi says that the following material grows increasingly difficult to understand, and can only be explained in broad terms. “High De” corresponds to the earlier description of feminine Yin transforming into a yellow envelope, the Qi of the Three Luminaries sinking into concealment, and both the pivot and its operation becoming still. It also corresponds to the later account of Mercury and white metal transforming into a “flowing pearl” and joining with the Azure Dragon. These transformations cannot be achieved through thought and speculation. “Lesser De” corresponds to masculine Yang spreading dark Qi and gently nurturing the young pearl. It also corresponds to the later account of the White Tiger smelting yellow earth until it becomes the father of Metal. This is the stage of cultivation that requires deliberate effort. If the upper and lower parts are not properly concealed, they lose their proper function. Hence the saying, “Origin serves to nourish what is above.” In the phrase “Shen and De,” the Classic of the Dragon and Tiger instead says, “Above, the Azure Dragon abides.” Here, “Metal” refers to masculine Yang and the White Tiger. Broadly speaking, when Yang Qi descends, Yin Qi naturally rises. The Song of the Cauldron and Vessel also says of the “apertures,” “Yin is above”—a crucial statement.

In “know the white and keep to the black; this is the foundation of Water,” “white” refers to Mercury and “black” to Lead. “Metal essence” means that it is born from Lead. The foundation of Water can generate Water: white and black each keep to their own place, then unite to become Water and the pivot of the Dao. This is what the earlier phrase “Shen and De” refers to.

When Yin and Yang first begin to unite, dark Qi contains the Yellow Sprout, the initial essence from which the Neidan develops. The ruler of the Five Metals is the River Chariot of the north, a symbol in Daoist Neidan of transporting and driving the movement of Qi.

The Mysterious (Xuan) contains the “Yellow Sprout,” an image in alchemical practice symbolizing vitality and essence. It is like earth within water: calm on the surface, yet rich in meaning within. The northern “River Cart,” a symbol of the circulation of essence and Qi, is black. Black belongs to Water, so Water arises from black. Read in light of what follows, this refers to Lead, also known as “Divine De.”

When Yin and Yang first take shape, the Mysterious already contains the Yellow Sprout. Among the five metals, Lead holds the chief place; the northern River Cart, too, is symbolized by Lead.

Lead is black on the outside, yet conceals within it the golden radiance of pure Metal Qi. It is like someone dressed in coarse cloth with fine jade hidden in their arms, appearing rough and uncultivated.

The Lead here is the Metal Qi mentioned above. Metal is the mother of Water, and the mother is hidden in the womb; Water is the child of Metal, and the child is hidden within its mother’s body. This is precisely what “know the white, yet keep to the black” means: understand the inner essence while maintaining an outward state of obscurity.

The subtle nature of the True Person, one who has attained the Dao, seems both present and absent, as though dwelling in an abyss, sinking and rising in turn. Then it withdraws and disperses, each part remaining in its proper place. This describes the gentle nurturing of the “Child Pearl,” the refined essence cultivated internally in alchemical practice.

It appears white, but turns vermilion when touched or refined. Once formed, its outer layer is like a protective barrier, while within it is white and firm. It is about one inch square, blended and condensed into a single mass. It comes into being before Heaven and Earth and is lofty and solemn. Walls and gate towers stand beside it, its shape like Penghu, the fabled island mountain in the sea. It is enclosed on every side, with winding, interlaced passageways. Its defenses are secure, keeping out malign influences. Winding covered walkways connect with one another to guard against the unexpected.

“An inch square” refers to what is called the Child Pearl. “Walls and gate towers” may be the wall mentioned below in the phrase, “The emotional ruler commands within; the wall forms the city’s outer defenses,” but its precise meaning remains unclear.

Original thought, the mind’s fundamental, quiet reflection, can be sustained, but sorrow and toil are difficult to bear for long. Shen and Qi fill the body and mind, yet nothing can hold them in place. Those who preserve them flourish; those who lose them decline. Whether a person is active, still, or at rest, Shen and Qi remain with them.

What are called judgments of right and wrong, secret methods, and inner visualization are all merely forms of thought. Pacing in ritual circuits, performing the steps of the Big Dipper to imitate the movements of the stars, following the arts of the Six Jia days and times, and the Yin method known as “averting the Nine and One”—a kind of heterodox technique mentioned in the text—can all disturb the mind and spirit. Some people practice breath-feeding until their intestines and stomach rumble, exhaling what they call upright Qi and inhaling what they call new malign influences. They stay awake day and night as their stomach and intestines rumble without stopping. Their bodies grow weary, and their minds become dazed, almost as if they were mad. Qi and blood surge throughout the body, leaving it unsettled and unclear. Others build an altar all around themselves and make offerings morning and evening. They see apparitions of ghosts and marvel at them in their dreams. Their hearts are filled with both fear and delight, and they believe they will surely prolong their lives. Yet they die prematurely, and their bodies decay.

These practices are often carried out improperly and go against the essential principles. Although the related prohibitions and rules are numerous, amounting upon close examination to thousands upon thousands, they all depart from the teachings of Huang-Lao, the Daoist thought represented by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, and run counter to the Great Dao.

Those who understand grasp the underlying purpose and suddenly see the path of cultivating the Dao. They practice diligently, without slackening morning or evening. After three years of taking substances and cultivating, they can lighten their bodies and travel far. They can enter fire without being scorched and enter water without getting wet; they can appear and disappear, and live in lasting ease without worry. When their Daoist work is complete and their De is perfected, they can overcome the burdens of the mundane world. Taiyi, the supreme deity or source revered in Daoism, then summons them and moves them to the Central Isle, the realm where immortals dwell. Once their merit is complete, they ascend to Heaven and receive the heavenly mandate and talismanic charts according to their names in the registers.

The Fire Record, an account of the timing and intensity of the alchemical fire, is not made up from nothing; it explains its subject through the Yi, the principles of Yin-Yang change in the Zhouyi. The shape of the cauldron and furnace resembles a crescent moon turned upside down. The White Tiger is lead and also represents fire; it is essential to the process of refining. Mercury is like the sun and is called the Flowing Pearl; the Azure Dragon accompanies it. When East and West are joined, the hun and po souls naturally come together. The first quarter corresponds to the number eight of the Dui trigram, and the last quarter does as well.

The inverted crescent may refer to a shape that is rounded below at the front and notched above at the back, like a crescent moon turned upside down. The White Tiger refers to lead and also to fire; the Flowing Pearl is accompanied by the Azure Dragon. The number of the Dui trigram at the first quarter is eight, and it is also eight at the last quarter.

“Waning Crescent” describes a shape like an inverted crescent moon: rounded below at the front, with a hollow above at the back.

“White Tiger” refers to lead, and also to fire, Qi, the West, the Po, and Yang. Calling it the “Boiling Pivot” means that it moves downward, causing the rising, moist Qi to ascend. “Mercury Sun” refers to Jing. “Azure Dragon” refers to water, and also to the East, the Hun, and Yin. The waxing phase belongs to Yang; the waning phase belongs to Yin.

Zhu Xi said: “The names Kan and Li, water and fire, Dragon and Tiger, lead and mercury are simply used interchangeably. In fact, they refer only to Jing and Qi. Jing belongs to water, Kan, Dragon, and mercury; Qi belongs to fire, Li, Tiger, and lead. The method of cultivation is to use the intention of Shen to circulate Jing and Qi, causing them to congeal into an Elixir. Yang Qi is below; at first it forms water, which is then refined with fire until it congeals into an Elixir. This is a rather unusual explanation.”

“The essences symbolized by the two crescents join, and the forms of Qian and Kun are thereby completed” means that the Yin and Yang essences represented by the waxing and waning phases unite, and the forms of Qian and Kun take shape. “Two eights correspond to one catty; the Way of the Changes is upright and does not tilt” means that the two “eights” together correspond to one catty, and the workings of the Changes proceed uprightly, without deviation.

On the eighth day of the lunar month, the moon is waxing and symbolizes the Dui trigram. Eight days later, its phase reaches the Qian trigram. On the twenty-third day, the moon is waning and symbolizes the Gen trigram. Eight days after that, its phase has waned away completely and reaches the Kun trigram. Another commentary says that one catty contains three hundred and eighty-four zhu, corresponding exactly to the number of lines in the hexagrams of the Changes. The moon’s phase begins to wax at the Zhen trigram and reaches fullness at Qian; it then gradually wanes through the Xun trigram until it has completely disappeared at Kun.

“Gold placed in a fierce fire does not lose the purity of its color or brilliance” means that when gold is put into a blazing fire, its color and luster remain unchanged. Since Heaven and Earth were first created, the brightness of the sun and moon has suffered no loss, the weight of gold has not changed, and the sun and moon continue their usual courses. Gold is originally generated within the moon; at dawn on the new moon, it receives the sun’s confirming influence. Gold then returns to its mother, joining with the sun at the end of the month. It gathers in its outward form and sinks into emptiness and stillness. Once gold recovers its original nature, the radiant power within the cauldron appears again.

Here, “gold” means lead. “Gold returns to its mother and recovers its former nature” means that it is gathered in and stored away, no longer put to use. It sinks into emptiness and stillness, recovers its original nature, and the radiant power within the cauldron then appears.

Metal is lead. When Metal returns to its mother and recovers its original nature, it means gathering and storing, no longer putting it to use. The sun’s light no longer falls upon the moon; this is like the pure Kun hexagram, in which all six lines are Yin.

The character “xi” was originally written as “xi,” and another edition has “xi.” I believe none of these forms makes sense. The Shuowen Jiezi says that “xi” carries the meaning of heat, and the character was also commonly used during the Eastern Han.

The numbers associated with Zi and Wu add up to three; those associated with Wu and Ji are called five. When three and five come together, the eight kinds of minerals each follow their proper order. “Juexi” means breathing in response to one another and attracting one another; thus, one quietly contemplates this pair of spouses. Yellow earth is the father of Metal, and flowing water droplets are the mother of Water. Water takes Earth as the force that restrains it. When Earth blocks Water, Water can no longer flow. The Vermilion Bird, the southern fire deity and a symbol of Fire, is the vital essence of Fire; it oversees the balance, weighing and regulating victory and defeat. When Water overcomes Fire, Fire is extinguished. Both die, and in the end return to thick earth. Once these three qualities have joined, their natures return together to their source.

Zi belongs to Water and has the number one; Wu belongs to Fire and has the number two. The two numbers add up to three. Wu and Ji belong to Earth and have the number five. Three and five together make eight; “eight minerals” is a symbolic expression. In fact, the passage speaks only of Water and Fire, with Earth as the principal element. Earth corresponds to the spleen, which governs intention. The meaning is to use intention to make Fire descend and Water rise, so that the two breathe and respond to each other. Metal is Fire. The Vermilion Bird probably refers to the heart, which is the master of intention. “Holding the balance” means presiding over measurement; it governs summer. The general meaning of this book is to refine Water with Fire, then use Water to weaken Fire. This is also like the moon receiving the sun’s light and then returning to its mother, as described earlier.

Giant-seed sesame helps prolong life. After taking the Returned Elixir, the nature of Metal does not decay or rot, and so it is regarded as the treasure of all things. Practitioners take it in the hope of extending their lifespan. Earth moves between the four seasons, guarding the boundaries in every direction and establishing the rules. This refers to golden sand as the mother.

Giant sesame (black sesame) is said to promote longevity, and taking the Restored Elixir, a Daoist term for a refined elixir, can also prolong life. Gold is firm by nature and does not decay or rot, so it is regarded as a treasure among all things. It is said that practitioners who take elixirs can extend their lifespan.

Earth moves through the four seasons, maintaining boundaries and establishing measures. Golden sand enters the five organs and circulates like mist dispersing and wind and rain descending. Its medicinal vapors suffuse the whole body and reach the limbs, giving the complexion a healthy glow. White hair turns black again, and the aged regain the strength of their prime. Old men become young, and old women look like maidens. The body is transformed and worldly calamities are escaped; this is what is called a “Perfected Person,” the Daoist term for one who has attained the Dao.

This passage speaks of Neidan, yet it uses the language of taking something by mouth, and I still do not understand what it means. Later, I came across the phrase “rushing beneath the crimson gate.”

When white lead, a pigment containing lead, is put into a fire, its color changes, and in the end it returns to lead. Ice and snow melt into water when they meet hot broth. Gold takes sand as its basis and combines with mercury; material changes follow the nature of things, with each stage depending on what came before, from beginning to end.

These are all metaphors for the mutual transformation of substances of the same kind.

To refine something for consumption, one should use materials of the same kind. To grow grain, one needs grain seed; to hatch chicks, one needs eggs. When the same kind assists natural transformation, things are readily formed. A fish’s eye cannot serve as a pearl, and mugwort cannot be made into a chest or cabinet. Only things of the same kind can accord with one another; if their natures are incompatible, no treasure can be refined. Thus, sparrows cannot produce phoenixes, and foxes and rabbits cannot rear horses; water flows downward and will not burn upward, while fire burns upward and will not moisten downward.

Here the point is made from the opposite side as well: things of different kinds cannot bring one another into being.

Many scholars in the world pride themselves on their deep learning and exceptional talent, yet by chance they fail to encounter the true opportunity and waste their effort and money. Relying only on written words and records, they make deductions and act recklessly on the basis of their own imaginings. They have not even understood how matters began or how they fit together, and they misjudge what is appropriate. They grind and prepare qiang stone gall, mica, and yuci; use sulfur to smelt Yuzhang; then mix in mercury and refine it. They also put the Five Stones and copper into the furnace, treating them as auxiliary and essential ingredients. But the substances have different properties: how could they possibly fuse into one? Repeated attempts are bound to fail time and again. Hoping to transform them into treasure, they only fall into delusion. They toil until their hair turns white with age, yet remain doubtful even halfway through. Turning away from the right path and clinging to a mistaken one, they leave the proper road for a crooked track. It is like looking through a narrow tube: the view is restricted, making it hard to infer what lies in the distance.

This passage describes Waidan, the practice of making elixirs by smelting ingredients in a furnace. If the ingredients are not of the same kind, they cannot be refined into treasure.

As for the sages, the first was none other than Fuxi, the legendary ruler of high antiquity, who drew the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) by taking patterns from the heavens. King Wen of Zhou inherited Fuxi’s teachings, arranged the structure of the hexagram and line statements, and developed the explanations for the lines. Confucius, outstanding among the sages, composed the Ten Wings, ten commentaries that explain the Book of Changes. All three sages were born with exceptional gifts. They arose one after another, each responding to the needs of his age. Their achievements came in a sequence of precedence and distinction, yet their merit and virtue were no different. In creating their teachings, each drew on what had come before; in developing their judgments, each proceeded with the utmost care and attention to detail. Tangible things are easy to measure, but intangible signs are difficult to assess. One’s work should be such that others can follow it, establishing standards of poetry and writing for the world. The author says that this pure and profound insight came to him through his teacher’s guidance. The principle shines as if a curtain had been drawn aside: one opens one’s eyes, ascends a high platform, and sees the view spread wide before them.

This passage says that the three sages arose in succession and each achieved something distinct: Fuxi took patterns from Heaven, King Wen inherited Fuxi’s teachings, and Confucius inherited King Wen’s. Tangible things are easy to make, while intangible principles are difficult to attain. The word “yin” indicates that the author grasped the principle through his teacher’s guidance. The meaning of the two lines about establishing poetry and writing for the world remains unclear.

The Fire Record, a collection of six hundred sections on the timing and stages of elixir firing, conveys a largely consistent intent. Texts and records that give detailed instructions are relatively easy to follow; intangible principles are difficult to attain. Here, “yin” means that the author grasped the principle through his teacher’s guidance. The meaning of the two lines about establishing poetry and writing for the world remains unclear.

There are six hundred chapters of Huojì, yet the central teaching they expound is in fact the same throughout. The text repeats these teachings with solemn emphasis, but people in the world refuse to consider them carefully and become thoroughly familiar with them. Tracing their origins and transmission, one can see that the hidden and the manifest were originally connected. I have privately waited for a worthy person to discuss them with; how could I dare write them down rashly? I would like to keep silent, but fear incurring blame by cutting off the transmission of the Dao. To set down my thoughts on bamboo slips and silk, however, makes me fear revealing Heaven’s secrets. Torn between these choices, I sigh again and again. Looking up and lowering my gaze, I have written these shallow words. Refining and cooling each follow their own rules. I cannot bear to disclose everything, so I will outline the essentials, allowing readers to glimpse the methods of refinement.

Huojì has six hundred chapters. It is an ancient book that has now been lost, and its specific contents are unknown.

With Metal as a barrier, Water and Fire can operate in balance. The numerical value of Metal is fifteen, and that of Water is also fifteen. When refining at the furnace, one must determine the weights of Metal and Water. Divide the Water into five portions, then take a little more than one portion. Metal and Water are the true ingredients of the Elixir, and the weight of the Metal remains unchanged. A third substance is not added; Fire acts together with them. The two substances blend and endure one another, bringing about transformations too wondrous to fathom. Beneath the furnace is the Qi of the sun. After a brief period of hidden steaming, the ingredients first turn to liquid and then solidify into form. This is called the “Yellow Chariot.”

This describes the Elixir’s first transformation. The meanings of Metal and Water are explained above. In the phrase “enter the Fire, two,” some argue that the word “enter” should be “Fire.” But since the text below mentions “three substances,” it would seem there should be three substances here as well. Yet the following line says “beneath is the Qi of the sun,” which suggests there are still only two substances. It is therefore possible that “Fire” should be “eight” and “three” should be “two.” The Metal and Water mentioned here are each assigned the number fifteen. Dividing the Water into five portions and taking two of them amounts to six tenths of fifteen. “Its three” would then mean nine tenths of fifteen. The phrase “Water, two” is also written “Fire, two.” This accords with the Water and Fire mentioned above and the three substances mentioned below. However, the passage above refers to the weight of Fire, and the word “sun” appears below, so the matter cannot be settled with certainty. The blending of the two substances refers to Yin-Yang and the union of Kan and Li. “Three substances” is clearly a textual error.

After some time has passed, the refinement nears completion. The ingredients diminish and change their original nature, and this also affects human lifespan. The body turns to ash and earth, resembling fine dust in a bright vessel.

This seems to describe the second transformation.

Pound and process the refined material, mix it, and then put it into the mouth. Seal the joined parts firmly and tightly so that the vessel remains whole and solid. Light a strong fire beneath it, and keep careful watch day and night without interruption. Begin with a gentle fire, allowing it to stabilize gradually; in the end, arrange a fierce fire. Watch with exceptional care, adjusting the fire’s heat and cold precisely. Work through twelve stages in a cycle, inspecting everything carefully again after each stage. When the breath has ebbed and life is nearly spent, stop the process. The original commentary takes this to mean that the fire has gone out and the metal has returned. When the material turns purple, it has been brightly refined into the Return Elixir, the elixir described in Daoist practice. Shape the elixir into a single pill; even the tiniest amount has miraculous efficacy.

This is the third transformation. “Casting, processing, and combining” may refer to specific procedures not stated here. The “Red Gate” refers to the mouth. The original commentary says that the liquid congeals into ash and earth, a principle that must be understood through practical operation; perhaps the material is first expelled, refined, and then swallowed. The blazing fire is what is called the Qi of the sun. “Making the sound with unflagging effort” refers to vocalizing continuously; later, the text also describes a sound of sorrow, like an infant yearning for its mother. “When the breath has ebbed and life is nearly spent” again means what was described earlier as the fire going out and the metal returning. The original commentary does not explain what “powdered Tiangui” specifically refers to.

Derive the numerical principles of the Five Phases, compare and synthesize them, and seek brevity without needless elaboration. When water strikes fire, its flames are suddenly extinguished. The sun and moon alternately oppose and wane, remaining throughout between the dark moon and the new moon. When water is strong, Kan Water encroaches upon the Yang of Li Fire; when fire weakens, Li Fire becomes as dim as daylight turning to darkness. Yin and Yang join and nourish one another: this is the natural Way. Use “name” to determine the condition of things, and “designation” to explain their nature. Only when the Qi of metal returns to its original nature can it be called the Return Elixir.

This passage explains the origin of the name “Return Elixir”: after the fire goes out, the Qi of metal returns.

I do not dare speak recklessly or invent things. I speak instead in accordance with the writings left by the sages. Ancient texts record the Dragon and Tiger (symbolic terms in alchemy), and the Yellow Emperor praised Golden Flower (a precious alchemical material or method). Liu An, king of Huainan, refined autumn stone (an alchemical term), and Wang Yang also incorporated Yellow Sprout (an alchemical term). The wise can persevere in practice; do not walk alongside those who are not wise.

From ancient times to the present, the principles have remained the same. We speak with one another to make clear what we seek. Those who study the Dao should exert themselves all the more and reflect attentively. The most important principles have been stated with great clarity, plainly evident; they have not deceived me.

End of Volume One of the Zhouyi cantong qi.

The foregoing are textual notes recording differences among editions and explaining which edition the editor followed when emending the text. For example, “mu” was originally “mo,” “dingwei” was originally “fawei,” and “sang qi ming” was originally “sang qi peng”; all were emended on the basis of the Siku edition. Some other characters and words are also written differently or incorrectly in the Siku edition.

Volume Two of the Zhouyi cantong qi

Supplementary notes by Huang Ruijie, a later student from Luling

Middle Section

The Qian hexagram is firm and strong; the Kun hexagram is yielding and receptive.

The Qian trigram represents strength and vigor, while the Kun trigram represents gentleness and receptivity. They complement and unite with one another, each embracing the other. Yang Qi arises by receiving Yin Qi, and the male and female depend on one another. Yin and Yang must support each other to set the transformations of creation in motion and allow Jing and Qi to unfold and flow.

The Kan and Li trigrams come first, and their radiance spreads far and wide. The subtle, profound changes are difficult to fathom and cannot be fully expressed in diagrams. The sages traced their patterns according to the changes of Yin and Yang, arranged them in sequence, and explained the source of this mystery.

Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li mingle and merge, entering directly into the realm of emptiness and nothingness. The sixty-four trigrams revolve in cycles, arranged like roads laid out and a carriage frame spread open. The Dragon Horse is harnessed to the carriage, and an enlightened ruler drives forward in accord with the times.

When Yin and Yang are in harmony, one can follow the natural course: the road is smooth and runs straight.

If one takes a deviant path, the road becomes treacherous, and the state will collapse and face ruin.

This passage echoes the meaning of the first chapter of the preceding section.

The Book of Changes says, “When a gentleman remains at home and speaks words that accord with principle, people a thousand li away respond.” Here, this refers to the ruler of ten thousand chariots, dwelling within the palace and issuing commands in accord with the rhythms of Yin and Yang. He should keep his implements in storage and wait for the right moment, never acting against the days associated with the trigrams. The Zhun hexagram corresponds to the days zi and shen; the Meng hexagram corresponds to the days yin and xu.

The other sixty hexagrams also each correspond to particular days. These two examples will suffice here; it is not possible to explain every one in detail. When a ruler establishes moral principles and institutes punishments, he should govern with benevolence and put De into practice.

Defying these patterns brings misfortune; following them brings good fortune. Laws should be issued in accordance with the calendar, with sincere devotion, care, and thoroughness. Observe the dates closely and examine the signs of Yin and Yang waxing and waning.

Even the slightest error may bring regret and calamity. Once the winter and summer solstices fall out of their proper order, changes become confused and reversed: intense summer heat appears in the depths of winter, while sleet falls in midsummer.

The timing of the spring and autumn equinoxes also becomes disordered, no longer matching the proper hours. Wind and rain lose their balance; floods and droughts alternate. Locusts ravage the land, while mountains collapse and the earth splits open.

Portents appear in the heavens, and one strange phenomenon follows another. A filial child who acts with sincere devotion can move the Way of Heaven. The effects of one’s conduct begin close at hand, in one’s own words and actions, yet can reach distant foreign lands.

Human actions may bring disaster or blessings; they may bring peace to all under Heaven or set off wars. All these changes arise from the intentions of the heart.

Movement and stillness each follow fixed patterns and must accord with certain principles. The four seasons proceed in their proper order, each aligning with its corresponding Qi. The boundary between firmness and yielding is clear; neither may become mixed with or encroach upon the other.

Each of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) keeps to its proper place, with none added or subtracted arbitrarily. The changes of the Yi (Book of Changes) recur in an endless cycle, now contracting and lying low, now extending and unfolding.

This passage echoes the previous one, which used the two hexagrams Zhun and Meng to explain the relationship between morning and evening, inner substance and outward function. In the Najia method—a system of assigning Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches to the Eight Trigrams and their line positions—Qian is assigned Jia and Ren, Kun is assigned Yi and Gui; Zhen is assigned Geng, Xun Xin, Kan Wu, Li Ji, Gen Bing, and Dui Ding.

The assignments for doubled hexagrams, each made up of two trigrams and six lines, are as follows. In Qian, the lower three lines are assigned Jiazi, Jiayin, and Jiachen; the upper three are assigned Renwu, Renshen, and Renxu. In Kun, the lower three lines are assigned Yiwei, Yisi, and Yimao; the upper three are assigned Guichou, Guihai, and Guiyou. In Zhen, the lower three lines are assigned Gengzi, Gengyin, and Gengchen; the upper three are assigned Gengwu, Gengshen, and Gengxu. In Xun, the lower three lines are assigned Xinchou, Xinhai, and Xinyou; the upper three are assigned Xinwei, Xinsi, and Xinmao. In Kan, the lower three lines are assigned Wuyin, Wuchen, and Wuwu; the upper three are assigned Wushen, Wuxu, and Wuzi. In Li, the lower three lines are assigned Jimao, Jichou, and Jihai; the upper three are assigned Jiyou, Jiwei, and Jisi. In Gen, the lower three lines are assigned Bingchen, Bingwu, and Bingshen; the upper three are assigned Bingxu, Bingzi, and Bingyin. In Dui, the lower three lines are assigned Ding Si, Ding Mao, and Ding Chou; the upper three are assigned Ding Hai, Ding You, and Ding Wei.

The inner trigram represents the course of practice from the hour of Zi through the hours of Chen and Si, while the outer trigram represents the period from the hour of Wu through the hours of Xu and Hai. Thus, when the Zhun hexagram is paired with the timing of the firing process in the morning, its initial nine line, Gengzi, corresponds to the hour of Zi, and its sixth-fourth line, Wushen, corresponds to the hour of Mao. When the Meng hexagram is paired with the firing process in the evening, its initial six line, Wuyin, corresponds to the hour of Wu, and its sixth-fourth line, Wuxu, corresponds to the hour of You. The remaining sixty hexagrams can also be worked out by this method. This further explains how the timing of the firing process in cultivation is arranged over the course of a day.

At the turn between the dark and bright phases of the moon, Yin and Yang join and move together at their midpoint, like the two halves of a tally. Heaven and Earth remain in an undivided, chaotic state, with the two Qi of Yin and Yang following one another like female and male. As Yin and Yang intermingle, they nourish and moisten the myriad things, allowing the Qi of generation and transformation to flow freely.

The wondrous transformations between Heaven and Earth cannot be measured. The workings of Yin and Yang enable people to settle their lives and fulfill their nature, while making transformation subtle and difficult to perceive. Change begins in the northeast, where the Ji and Dou lunar mansions are located.

The Qi of Yin and Yang circles and moves to the right. The moon breathes out and draws in its light, and the myriad things sprout. Even when the breath is hidden, signs can still appear, sending out a subtle radiance. When it moves above the Bi and Mao lunar mansions, the Zhen trigram reveals its sign.

Yang Qi begins to arise here, corresponding to the initial nine line of the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes: “Hidden dragon; do not act.” Yang Qi is established on the basis of three, while Yin Qi is linked to eight. Thus, on the third day of the month, the moon takes the form of the Zhen trigram and begins to show movement; on the eighth, it moves into the form of the Dui trigram.

At the second nine line, “Dragon appearing in the field,” Yin and Yang are in harmony and their light becomes visible. Through the transformations of three and five, the Virtue of Yin and Yang is complete, and only then does the form of the Qian hexagram take shape. At the third nine line, Yang Qi grows stronger, yet vigilance is still needed. If the Yin-Yang tally is damaged, its movement will be affected.

The waxing and waning gradually turn into one another and finally return to the beginning. The Xun trigram continues this movement, preserving and harmonizing Yin and Yang. At the fourth nine line, “Perhaps leaping in the depths,” both advance and retreat are dangerous and uncertain.

The Gen trigram governs stopping and advancing; one must not move rashly before the time is right. At the third nine line, vigilance is still needed at dusk. If the Yin-Yang tally is damaged, waxing and waning will gradually change and eventually return to the beginning. The Xun trigram continues to govern the movement, bringing Yin and Yang into harmony and stability.

At the fourth nine line, “Perhaps leaping in the depths,” the way of advance and retreat is fraught with danger. The Gen trigram governs when to move and when to stop; action must not miss its proper time. Around the twenty-third day of the month, when the moon is near its last quarter, one must wait for the crescent phase. At the fifth nine line, “Flying dragon in the heavens,” Yang Qi rises to the position of Heaven, bringing an auspicious sign.

The fifth six line corresponds to the Kun hexagram. Kun follows and receives Yang Qi, bringing together and connecting the beginning and end of transformation, like a mother raising many children across successive generations. Once the count of Yang Qi reaches its limit, it ends and begins again.

By investigating the states of Yin and Yang, one brings them into accord with their respective natures, so they cycle and cooperate with one another. At the top nine line, “Arrogant dragon will have cause to repent,” Yang Qi is excessive, and the Virtue of Yin and Yang contends in the open wilderness. The image of “using the nines” undergoes many transformations, yet still follows the law of movement.

Following the courses of the heavenly bodies, rising and descending, coming and going, cycling above and below, it flows through the six lines, its changes difficult to perceive. Thus, Original Qi never has a fixed form: this is the fundamental teaching of the Book of Changes.

Here the na jia method (assigning the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches to the hexagram lines) is used again to explain the firing times of a month—that is, the timing arranged by month during cultivation. The six lines of the Qian hexagram are also incorporated to illustrate the waxing and waning of Yang qi.

The terms Ji and Dou in the text merely stand for the northeast; Bi and Xu stand for due west. Names for the four directions in the sky are borrowed to indicate directions on earth. They do not refer to the east, north, or west in the heavens.

“Six-Five” is probably a mistaken reading of “twenty-six.” The word “nian” is pronounced “ru” and means twenty. On the twenty-sixth day, the Kun hexagram governs.

The passage beginning with “Using the Nine” echoes the discussion in the previous section of the “Two Uses” of the Qian and Kun hexagrams.

The first day of the eleventh lunar month corresponds to the Fu hexagram, which symbolizes Yang Qi beginning to return. Yang Qi starts to flow freely, moving in and out without obstruction. Like the shadow cast by a standing sundial, it reveals a subtle yet vigorous force. The eleventh month is the Zi month, corresponding to the pitch standard Huangzhong, the first of the ancient twelve pitch standards. Signs of Yang Qi gradually become apparent. A gentle warmth begins to spread, and the people resume their normal lives. The Lin hexagram, symbolizing Yang Qi’s gradual growth and upward advance, is like a furnace fire that spurs branches to sprout and opens a path for the light. The light grows brighter, and the days grow longer.

When the Chou month arrives, it corresponds to the pitch standard Dalu, and the rising and descending of Yin and Yang gradually come into harmony. Yang Qi rises, forming the Tai hexagram, which symbolizes the union of Heaven and Earth and the free flow of Yin and Yang. Firmness and yieldingness flourish together. Yin and Yang meet in the Zi month; signs of Yang Qi gradually become apparent, warmth spreads, and the people return to their usual ways. The Lin hexagram is like a furnace fire that spurs branches to sprout and opens a path for the light; the light grows brighter, and the days grow longer. The Chou month corresponds to the pitch standard Dalu, when the rising and descending of Yin and Yang come into harmony. Yang Qi rises to form the Tai hexagram, and firmness and yieldingness flourish together.

Yin and Yang meet; Yin Qi gradually recedes as Yang Qi grows. In the Yin month, Yang Qi gathers and moves in accord with the seasons. It then passes gradually through the Dazhuang hexagram, symbolizing the flourishing of Yang Qi, and reaches the threshold of the Mao month. The elm’s winged seeds fall, returning to their source. Punishment and De—two forces in the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang—face one another, and from this point day and night begin to divide equally. In the Guai hexagram, symbolizing decisive action, Yin Qi retreats while Yang Qi rises and advances. It cleanses its wings, shaking off the dust accumulated over a long time. The Qian hexagram, symbolizing pure Yang and vigorous strength, is filled with light, its radiance spreading in all directions.

Yang Qi reaches its limit in the Si month, when Yin and Yang meet at the center. The Gou hexagram, symbolizing the first emergence of Yin Qi, begins here, like the chill first sensed when stepping on frost. The cold spring at the bottom of the well becomes a guest in the Wu month; the guest submits to Yin, and Yin becomes the host. The Dun hexagram, symbolizing withdrawal, leaves its former position. It gathers in its Jing, holds its De within, and waits for the right moment, lying quietly dormant in darkness. When the Pi hexagram, symbolizing obstruction and lack of communication, appears, nothing can sprout or grow. Yin Qi extends while Yang Qi is suppressed, and the name and standing of Yang Qi disappear along with it.

By observing the balance presented in the Guan hexagram, symbolizing contemplation, one can discern the conditions of mid-autumn: preserving tiny, tender life and restoring withered things to flourishing. Shepherd’s purse and wheat put forth shoots, emerging and growing in time with the season. The Bo hexagram, symbolizing stripping away, causes branches and limbs to rot and forms to perish; the Qi of transformation and generation is exhausted, and the utmost spirit is lost with it. When movement reaches its end, it turns back, returning to the source represented by the Kun hexagram, which symbolizes pure Yin and the Earth. It always follows the laws of the Earth, receives the timing of Heaven, and disperses the Qi of generation and transformation.

Mysterious and profound, distant and beyond measure, things are separated from one another yet also connected. It follows the proper measure to nurture seeds and is the source of Yin-Yang transformations. Heaven and Earth are vast and indistinct; no one knows where they begin.

If one loses one’s bearings at the beginning, one will stray from the constant Way; if one later learns to take the lead, one can become the ruler. One should not assume that a level path will remain level forever: levelness and steepness transform into one another. This is the natural pattern of the Dao. Change unfolds without cease, with growth and decline depending on each other.

The end of the Kun hexagram and the beginning of the Fu hexagram form a continuous cycle, like interlocking links in a chain. When rulers understand and take charge of this pattern, they can preserve their position for a long time.

Here, twelve hexagrams divide a month’s “fire phases,” and the same scheme can also explain the fire phases of a year. Fire phases are the arrangement of timing, advance and retreat, and rhythm in the process of cultivation and refinement. In the monthly scheme, each hexagram corresponds to two and a half days. The Fu hexagram is formed by combining Zhen with Kun; Lin by Dui with Kun; Tai by Qian with Kun; Dazhuang by Qian with Zhen; Guai by Qian with Dui; Qian by Qian with Qian; Gou by Qian with Xun; Dun by Qian with Gen; Pi by Qian with Kun; Guan by Kun with Xun; Bo by Kun with Gen; and Kun by Kun with Kun. The sequence is then derived again from Fu as its starting point, pairing Zhen, Dui, Qian, Xun, Gen, and Kun in turn to form the corresponding hexagrams.

This method of derivation is explained through hexagram names, names of musical pitches, and names of the traditional time periods. In the text, “Fu Zou” refers to Taicu, “Xia Li” to Jiazhong, “Xi Zhuo” to Guxian, “Zhong” to Zhonglü, and “Mei Ming” to Linzhong; “Shen” refers to the Shen hour, “Ren Xu” to Nanlü, “He” to the Hai hour, and “Ying” to Yingzhong. Broadly speaking, most of these correspondences are contrived associations and need not be examined closely. The phrase “afterward, as ruler” should probably be punctuated as “read the Changes, and afterward gain the ruling position.” The old punctuation has been mistaken for a very long time.

To cultivate nature and life, prolong life, and delay aging, one must carefully consider the end of things and also reflect on their beginning. The physical form each person receives ultimately comes from the same primordial Qi. Primordial Jing, the subtle substance of life, spreads and circulates, relying on primordial Qi to form the beginning of life. Yin and Yang establish the pattern of movement, within which the Hun and Po reside: the Yang spirit is called the Sun Hun, and the Yin spirit the Moon Po.

The Hun and Po each dwell in the other. A person’s nature governs the inner life, taking shape and finding its place within the body, where it forms its foundation and boundaries.

Original essence (Yuanjing) spreads like clouds, relying on Qi to begin its formation. Yin and Yang serve as the principles governing movement and as the dwelling place of the Hun and Po. The Yang spirit is called the Sun Hun, and the Yin spirit the Moon Po.

The Hun and Po each serve as the dwelling place of the other. Nature (one’s inner nature) resides within, like the boundary of a city; emotion (inner feelings and desires) governs without, like the walls and outer ramparts.

When the walls and ramparts are complete, the people can be at peace. At this point, emotion accords with Qian and Kun, the trigrams that represent Heaven and Earth in the Yi. Qian is active and firm: it sets Qi spreading and Jing flowing.

Kun is still and receptive, becoming the dwelling place of the Dao. After firmness has exerted itself, it withdraws and rests; softness transforms and grows, nourishing all things. “Nine returning and seven turning back; eight returning and six abiding” refers to the cyclical process by which the Qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases unite and separate, each returning to its proper place.

The male belongs to white, the female to red; Metal and Fire restrain one another. In this way, Water settles and Fire is harmonized: this is the beginning of the generation of the Five Phases. The highest good is like water, clear and without blemish.

The image of the Dao is real and unified, yet difficult to depict. It transforms and spreads out, with each part existing independently. It is like an egg, in which black and white depend on one another.

It extends about one inch in every direction, serving as a beginning. From it, the limbs, the five organs, the sinews, and the bones gradually take shape. After ten months, the infant leaves the womb and is born into the world.

An infant’s bones are soft, its body can bend, and its skin is smooth, like lead.

This passage complements the earlier chapter’s “knowing the white.” It describes how a person first comes into being through the union of Yin and Yang; refining the Elixir now follows the same principle. When the Jing speaks of the “Dao,” it often uses “Dao” to refer to the Elixir. The character for “lead” may originally have been the one for “maltose,” since the two characters are similar in form and may have been confused in transcription.

The yangsui, an ancient concave bronze mirror used to kindle fire, can draw fire only with the help of the sun; without the sun, no flame appears. If the fangzhu, an ancient vessel for collecting dew, is not illuminated by the stars and moon, how could it obtain liquid?

The Qi of Yin and Yang is profound and far-reaching, yet the two can still communicate through mutual resonance. How much more so when they are close at hand within the human body, intimately connected with the chest and heart.

Yin and Yang combine, taking the sun and moon as their model, and using the transformations of Water and Fire as evidence. The ears, eyes, and mouth are three important gateways. They should be guarded so that Jing and Qi do not leak out.

The True Person, one who has attained the Dao, lies hidden in the depths of the inner realm, resting and roaming peacefully at the center of the body. Circling inward in contemplation, one observes opening and closing, ensuring that everything accords with its proper measure.

This is the pivot of the body’s own workings, whose changes between movement and stillness have no end. The Qi of Li Fire moves within the body, serving to nourish and protect; Kan Water no longer performs its original function.

In cultivation, Dui, Zhen, and Kan come together not through verbal lore, but through speaking little and following nature. Once these three have become pivotal, relax body and mind and dwell in a quiet room. Do not exhaust your strength in practice. Take the Qi symbolized by the Li trigram into the body and circulate it within, where it serves to nourish and protect; Kan then no longer bears its former function alone.

Draw the mind back and return it to its original state of emptiness and stillness, keeping this single-minded intention at all times. Even when faced with something difficult to move forward, keep the mind focused and do not let external things pull it away.

As you sleep, spirit and body embrace one another. After waking, attend to the changes in your body. Your complexion will gradually become lustrous, and your joints and bones will grow stronger and more robust.

Only after all forms of Yin malign influence have been cleared away can the Qi of true Yang be established. Do not stop practicing because you see no immediate results. As the Qi gradually grows abundant, it moves like clouds and falling rain, continuous and unbroken—like spring rain nourishing all things, or ice melting into water. Fluids flow from the head down to the feet, then eventually rise again.

The movement of Qi extends into the deep and mysterious realm, filling the body throughout. “Returning is the proof of the Dao” means that returning to the source is precisely the Dao’s verification. “Weakness is the handle of De” means that gentleness and stillness are the foundation of virtue.

Cultivation can be like hoeing weeds: clearing away accumulated impurities so that even the finest parts gradually become balanced and unobstructed. Turbid Qi is the path toward clarity; what has long been obscure will gradually become manifest.

This section discusses the work of nourishing the root of life, a matter of great importance. Zhu Xi said, “In the phrase ‘the Qi of Li nourishes and protects within,’ I once saw an elder read ‘within’ as ‘take in.’ That is the correct interpretation.”

People in the world like to pursue minor techniques, but do not understand that the Great Dao has both shallow and profound aspects. They abandon the proper path for crooked byways and hurry toward results, only to find that their efforts go nowhere.

This is like a blind person who refuses a walking stick, or a deaf person trying to distinguish music by listening; diving underwater to catch pheasants and rabbits, or climbing a mountain to look for fish and dragons. It is like sowing wheat but expecting to harvest millet, or using a compass to seek a square. They exhaust their strength and toil for a whole year, yet achieve nothing in the end.

If you wish to know the method of consuming substances, keep it simple and free of complication.

The Sun’s Flowing Pearl, an image for cultivating Yang essence, is always seeking to leave the body. If one obtains Golden Flower, an image for the essence condensed through cultivation, the two interact and transform one another in succession. Golden Flower turns into a white liquid, which then condenses into a solid substance.

Golden Flower first stirs into motion; a little later, it melts into water, taking a shape like horse teeth arranged in alternating rows. Yang Qi then joins with it, and feeling and nature naturally come into harmony.

When the Yin-Yang currents move in haste, they are constrained, as though shut behind a barred gate. A loving mother wishes to nurture her children, and a filial child repays a mother’s kindness; a stern father gives commands, teaching and restraining his descendants.

The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) move in interwoven patterns, each relying on the others to generate life. Fire can melt Metal, and Metal can cut Wood, limiting its growth. The Three and the Five among the Five Phases combine as one, forming the subtlest principle between Heaven and Earth.

The essential instructions can be passed on orally, but are difficult to put into writing. At the hour of the Rat, one should turn left; at the hour of the Horse, one should turn east. The hours of the Rabbit and the Rooster mark clear boundaries; a stern father gives commands, teaching and restraining his descendants. The Five Phases move in interwoven patterns, each relying on the others to generate life: Fire melts Metal, and Metal cuts Wood, limiting its growth. The Three and the Five unite as one, the subtlest principle between Heaven and Earth.

These essential instructions can be passed on orally, but are difficult to set down in writing. At the hour of the Rat, one should turn left; at the hour of the Horse, turn east. The Rabbit and the Rooster mark clear boundaries, governing and defining two distinct designations.

The Dragon breathes toward the Tiger, and the Tiger draws in the Dragon’s Jing (essence). Each drinks in the other and seeks an advantage; thus they join and swallow one another, chewing what they have taken in.

Yinghuo (Mars) lingers in the west, while Taibai (Venus) stretches across the sky. Wherever the force of slaughter reaches, what could remain standing? Cats and dogs keep watch over mice; sparrows and crows fear the partridge. Each has its own function—how dare any of them make a sound?

If you do not understand the principle, you should not speak recklessly about it. Some have squandered their entire estate, leaving their wives and children hungry and destitute. Since ancient times, billions have taken an interest in this Way; in the end, few have truly encountered the right opportunity, and fewer still have succeeded in cultivation.

Searching far and wide for so-called precious medicines instead leads one away from the Dao (the Way). If one truly meets someone destined for this teaching, one can glimpse its first signs. If you do not understand the principle, you should not speak recklessly about it. Some have squandered their entire estate, leaving their wives and children hungry and destitute. Since ancient times, billions have taken an interest in this Way, yet very few have ultimately found the right opportunity and succeeded in cultivating it.

Searching far and wide for precious medicines goes against the Dao. If one truly meets someone destined for this teaching, one can glimpse its first signs. One should use like things to shed light on one another, and investigate the changes of all things from beginning to end. The Five Phases overcome one another, yet can also transform into the generative relations of parents and children. The mother’s body holds nourishing fluids, while the father’s body imparts innate nature. Jing and Qi gather, and form spreads; from this arise firm and imperishable metals and stones. If one can be careful and steadfast, without allowing Jing and Qi to leak away, one may attain the Dao.

Those who learn minor techniques labor without success; those who master this method work simply, without unnecessary complication.

The passage beginning with “The Sun” echoes chapters in the preceding section, such as “Knowing the White,” “Smelting the Pivot,” and “Yellow Carriage.” The Five Phases generate one another, like the affection between mother and child; Fire and Metal overcome one another, like commands issued by a stern father. “Three and Five” means that Fire, Metal, and Wood all receive their Qi from Earth. Another interpretation holds that “Three and Five” refers to Zi, Wu, Wu, and Ji, mentioned earlier, but this explanation remains unclear. The character “east” probably ought to read “left”; the passage is describing how Yin and Yang each have their fixed place. The six lines about the Dragon and Tiger describe the affection between mother and child; the eight lines beginning with “Mars” and “Venus” describe the stern father’s commands.

To seek rare and precious substances without understanding the underlying principles is what practitioners of Waidan (external alchemy) do. The scripture uses analogous things to make its point, as in the earlier metaphor about “the eight minerals setting the guiding principles in order.”

Raise a pole, and its shadow appears; call out toward a valley, and an echo answers. Is this not marvelous? It is the supreme and subtle manifestation of the workings of Heaven and Earth.

Swallow an inch of wild kuzu root and an ounce of croton seed, and you will stiffen and collapse as soon as they enter your mouth, unable even to raise or lower your head.

At such a point, even if King Wen of Zhou and Cao Shen or Confucius were to interpret the trigrams, Bian Que to apply acupuncture, and Wu Xian to beat the drum and perform rites, how could they revive you and make you rise and walk again?

The Riverbank Maiden—an alchemical term for a medicine with uncanny powers of transformation—is wondrous and supremely mysterious. At the touch of fire, she scatters and vanishes, leaving not a speck of dust. She disappears like a ghost and hides like a dragon, so no one knows where she has gone.

To master her, Yellow Sprout—an alchemical term for an important substance or medicine in the refining process—is the foundation. If things lack Yin and Yang, they violate the Dao of Heaven and depart from their source. A fat hen may brood over her eggs on her own, but the chicks that hatch may not be sound.

Why is this so? The pairing has not yet been brought into harmony; the Qi of Three and Five has not joined, and hardness and softness remain apart. The subtle workings on which the transformation and generation of all things depend arise from the natural movement of Heaven and Earth.

Fire rises as it moves, while water flows downward and moistens; no one stands by to teach or direct them to do so. From this, all things begin and come under its governance. This pattern cannot be changed.

When observing the union of man and woman, firmness and softness join together and are hard to separate. The two follow a certain measure and accord; this is not produced by skillful manipulation.

A male infant is born face down, while a female infant is born lying on her back. These forms take shape in the womb, when they receive the primordial Qi (vital energy); they are not visible only at birth.

At death, the body also takes on corresponding postures. These are not taught by the parents but follow a natural pattern established at the union of man and woman.

The man within Kan, which symbolizes water, the moon, and Yin, is like the moon. The woman within Li, which symbolizes fire, the sun, and Yang, is like the sun. The sun spreads its beneficence, and the moon gives off its radiance. The moon receives the sun’s transformations while remaining whole in itself.

If Yang Qi loses the measure by which it joins with Yin Qi, Yin Qi will encroach upon the light of Yang. At the new moon and the end of the lunar month, the sun and moon appear to cover or obscure one another, like Yin and Yang concealing and enveloping each other. Yang Qi is thereby diminished, while Yin Qi rises with the advantage, bringing calamity.

Man and woman depend on each other, exchanging breath and nourishing one another through their union. Male and female come together according to the principle that like seeks like. Metal transforms into water, whose nature is to flow and circulate. Fire transforms into earth, through which water cannot pass. Thus the man takes the initiative and gives outwardly, while the woman remains still and receives inwardly. If the giving exceeds its proper limit and loses its measure, the man will be constrained by the woman.

Po (the spirit associated with the body) restrains Hun (the more mobile spirit), keeping it from becoming unrestrained. Neither too cold nor too hot, their advance and retreat both accord with the proper time. When each is in harmony, the two together reveal the signs of their union.

Poison can kill, but Yellow Sprout can subdue and transform it. This is a metaphor. Here, “Waidan (external alchemy)” usually refers to cinnabar, though its precise meaning in this passage is unclear. What follows begins with the Yin-Yang transformations at the origin of the myriad things and explains their underlying principles. To understand this method, one must take the union of Yin and Yang as its foundation.

Cinnabar is the essence of Wood and can unite with Metal. At the point where Metal and Water meet, Wood and Fire set the process in motion. When Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire are mixed, they are respectively called Dragon and Tiger, terms in alchemy that symbolize Yin and Yang forces.

The Dragon belongs to Yang and is an odd number; the Tiger belongs to Yin and is an even number. The liver is associated with the color green and symbolizes the father; the lungs are associated with white and symbolize the mother; the kidneys are associated with black and symbolize the child; the spleen is associated with yellow and symbolizes the ancestor.

These three forces unite as one family and ultimately return to Wu and Ji, the Earthly Stems that represent Earth and also symbolize the harmonizing force at the center. Firmness and softness rise in turn, each taking its place according to the seasons. The Dragon dwells in the west and the Tiger in the east, corresponding to Mao and You, the terrestrial branches associated with those directions.

Green symbolizes the father; the white of the lungs symbolizes the mother; the black of the kidneys symbolizes the child; and the yellow of the spleen symbolizes the ancestor.

The three substances unite as one family and ultimately return to Wu and Ji, the Earth phase among the Five Phases. Firmness and softness rise in turn, each following its own cycle. The Dragon is in the west and the Tiger in the east; the two guard the Mao and You positions.

Punishment and Virtue meet and encounter one another, feeling both apprehension and delight. Punishment governs concealment and destructive severity; Virtue governs growth and arising. In the second month, the elm sheds its leaves, and the Dipper’s head points to Mao. In the eighth month, wheat grows, and the celestial sign appears at You. Zi lies in the south and Wu in the north; they govern one another and form the guiding order. When the numerical pattern of nine and one reaches its end, it begins again.

Contain primordial Qi and hold fast to one’s true nature; at the hour of Zi, set Jing and Qi in motion. The “Guan Ju” says: “Guan guan cry the ospreys, on the islet in the river. Gentle and graceful is the good lady, a fitting match for the gentleman.” The male bird does not live alone, nor does the female dwell in solitude. The tortoise and snake of the Black Tortoise, a divine creature formed of both, coil together in dependence. They illustrate the pairing of Yin and Yang, female and male, each assisting the other.

Suppose two women lived in the same room, both beautiful. Even if Su Qin, the Warring States persuader, were asked to bring them together, and Zhang Yi, another persuader of that age, to act as matchmaker, using all their clever eloquence and persuasive words, and speaking from the heart to reconcile them and make them husband and wife, the two would never truly know one another. If the ingredients are not of the same kind and their natures do not correspond, they cannot be joined.

If the proportions of the ingredients are not properly balanced, the guiding standard is lost. Even if the Yellow Emperor himself tended the furnace, the Great One descended before him, the Eight Lords refined the elixir, and the King of Huainan managed the fire; even if a high altar were built and jade steps set in place, dried qilin and phoenix meat prepared, and one knelt holding a ritual register to pray to the spirits and beseech the gods and ghosts for mercy; even if one then bathed and observed purification, hoping to gain something, it would still be as futile as mending a pot with glue or smearing mud on a sore. Adding ice to what is cold, or hot water to what is hot, only compounds the error. Even making the tortoise fly and the snake dance would merely make things more confused.

Cinnabar and the essence of wood can be joined only with a metal-class ingredient. This is what the “Yellow Sprout” mentioned in the previous chapter means. As for the phrase “the heart is red, the spleen yellow,” some editions read “second chapter,” while others read “the source of all things”; it is unclear which is correct. The Dragon and Tiger, and Zi and Wu, are assigned to intersecting positions. From “Guan guan” onward, two women are again used as a metaphor to explain that ingredients cannot be joined unless they are of the same kind.

In ancient times, the sages understood the subtle Dao (the Way) and held fast to their true nature. They refined and ingested the elixirs of the Nine Cauldrons—a collective term for nine kinds of elixir in ancient alchemy—while withdrawing from worldly affairs. They nurtured Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), preserved Shen (spirit), and brought their De (Virtue/Power) into harmony with the Three Origins, understood in Daoism as either Heaven, Earth, and humanity or Jing, Qi, and Shen.

They tended their Jing, Qi, and bodily fluids until their sinews and bones grew strong. They expelled harmful influences of every kind and kept vital Qi intact. Through long years of accumulated practice, they eventually transformed their bodies and became immortals.

Taking pity on later generations who were drawn to the Daoist arts, the sages followed clues in ancient writings to explain and point out their meaning. They compiled the teachings in illustrated books and texts and passed them on to those who came after.

The texts revealed the details while concealing the fundamentals. They also hid their meaning behind names such as “various minerals,” so that the writing was veiled layer upon layer. Even those who obtained these books might spend their entire lives poring over them, yet never grasp their central teaching.

Children inherited their fathers’ work, and later generations followed in the footsteps of their ancestors. But as the teachings passed from one generation to the next, people gradually lost their way, until no one truly saw or heard the principles involved. As a result:

Officials could not fulfill their duties, farmers neglected their fields, merchants abandoned their goods, and those resolved to cultivate the Dao were driven into poverty. I feel deep sorrow over this, and so I have gathered these ideas and written them down.

The wording is concise, the meaning easy to grasp, and the matters explained clearly without needless detail. Each point is set out in turn so that readers can verify the reasoning. Every quantity has a fixed measure, allowing the parts to correspond with one another and proceed in order.

For this reason, the book deliberately includes phrases that may easily be misunderstood, concealing the crucial points within them. Those who are wise should reflect on them carefully, then use their own understanding to compare and reason things out.

In the past, immortals wrote books to teach the world, but did not explain the practice of cultivation plainly. Instead, they used various names and images to stand for the Yin-Yang transformations within the human body. As a result, students often failed to grasp the central teaching. This book has now been written in the hope of making it clear and easy to understand. Yet, for fear of revealing its contents, it still contains many intricate and obscure expressions, with the crucial points hidden within them. The song below summarizes the central teaching of the whole book.

The term “closing song” here is like the “luan says” at the end of the Li Sao: a song that concludes and summarizes what came before. The following text makes this clear.

Among the laws and signs of the world, nothing is greater than Heaven and Earth themselves. The Milky Way in the heavens stretches deep and far, like a vast chasm extending for thousands of miles. When the River Drum star approaches the position of Xingji, people are all gripped by alarm.

The shadows cast by the sun seem to shift strangely back and forth, and disasters follow one another for nine years. The ruler looks up to observe the celestial signs and examine the calamities, then withdraws to reflect and correct his own faults.

The pivot of Yin-Yang’s movement rises and falls, and the Qi of calamity dissipates in turn. The waters of the Yangtze-Huai region run dry, and the river flows into the sea.

This section describes the disasters caused by flooding. The commentator believes that if a ruler reflects on himself and corrects his failings, the Qi of calamity will subside, and the waters and land will return to stability. “Dark chasm” probably refers to the Milky Way. “River Drum” is the name of a star. “Xingji” is the Ox position among the twelve celestial sectors, though the commentator says its precise meaning remains unclear. “Nine years” refers to the flood disaster. “The pivot rises and falls” refers to the rising and descending transformations of Yin-Yang. “Qi of calamity” means Qi that brings about disaster; by analogy with the human body, it also symbolizes a state in which Water and Fire cannot be harmonized.

Zhu Xi says, “‘Xuan gou’ and ‘hai qi’ probably do not refer to things inside the human body; they are simply figurative expressions. The Biography of Wang Mang says, ‘The harmful qi is about to run out.’ The passage before this describes floods causing disaster, and how a ruler can change the situation. Thus the qi of calamity recedes, and the floods subside. The character hai was mistakenly written as zhou, then as gu. Later readers consequently changed it incorrectly to jing and also added the word er. These changes are all wrong. Still, the character zhou shows that the original must have been hai, since their forms are very similar in seal and clerical script.”

The Yin-Yang, female and male qi between Heaven and Earth moves back and forth between the hours of zi and wu. Yin and Yang have their fundamental times of transformation at yin and shen; from there their qi enters and exits, circulating in an endless cycle.

Following the movement of the Northern Dipper, set the Yaoguang star in motion. Use the dipper’s crossbar to determine direction and establish the sequence of the seasons and years. Place the medicinal substances in Zhenshan, a vessel or furnace used for alchemical work, and heat them over a fire; below, lay a vigorous blaze.

The White Tiger leads in front, while Cangye, the blue-black liquid of the refining process, blends behind.

Zhu Xi says, “Some editions write ‘Tiger’ as ‘Ku’; others write it as ‘Fan.’ These three characters are all borrowed terms. Since the next line says ‘Cangye,’ perhaps this character should be written as ‘Ku’ or ‘Fan.’ Earlier, the text also has ‘Ku ci qian,’ so ‘Ku’ seems the more suitable reading. But the next line mentions the Vermilion Bird, and later the text lists three kinds of beasts in sequence, each with its own direction. So perhaps the reading should be ‘Tiger,’ while ‘liquid’ might also be ‘Dragon.’ ‘Changdao qian’ means the ‘ao shu’ mentioned earlier; the phrase ‘blends behind’ below corresponds to it. Both seem to refer to living beings, so ‘Dragon and Tiger’ is the more fitting reading. The passage describes water being cooked by fire and fire being controlled by water, so that Metal and Water join and eventually return to their original state.”

The Vermilion Bird, the divine bird of the south, soars and plays, its feathers bright and its five colors streaming through the air. It encounters a net and is held down, unable to spread its wings and fly high.

It cries out in sorrow, like an infant longing for its mother. Then it tumbles upside down into a boiling pot, where it is battered and injured and its feathers destroyed.

Before the water clock has reached the halfway mark, dense dragon-scale patterns surge and churn. Five-colored lights flash dazzlingly, changing without any fixed pattern.

□□ boils and surges, rolling fiercely without pause. All kinds of things pile up in disorder, layer upon layer, interlocking and bracing against one another like a dog’s teeth.

The substance in the furnace resembles ice in midwinter, lying crosswise and askew, with stalactite-like crystals emerging from it. The crystals vary in height, mingle and pile upon one another, and support one another.

When the Yin and Yang substances are properly combined, they dwell together quietly and without desire. The Azure Dragon, symbolizing the Wood Qi of the east, moves to the sixth degree of the Fang mansion, and the signs of spring growth temporarily cease. The substances pile up in disorder, layer upon layer, interlocking like dogs’ teeth. Another explanation says that the Qi of spring stirs in the eastern Mao position.

The White Tiger, symbolizing the Metal Qi of the west, is at the seventh degree of the Mao mansion, where the Qi of autumn appears in the western You position. The Vermilion Bird, symbolizing the Fire Qi of the south, is at the second degree of the Zhang mansion, while the Qi of pure Yang is in the southern Wu position.

These three come together as if members of one family living in close company. Ultimately, there are only two fundamental substances, Yin and Yang. The so-called “three and five” does not mean that they each become three or five separate things.

The three and five combine into one and gather at two locations. Refine them according to the method described above, using the number of days specified earlier.

The Elixir first appears white, then turns yellow, and afterward becomes red throughout, inside and out. This is called the “First Cauldron.” Once refined, it is taken by ingestion, in a quantity the size of a millet grain.

This passage summarizes the method for refining the Returned Elixir and distills its essential points. Zi and Wu refer to Qian and Kun, which symbolize Heaven and Earth; Yin and Shen refer to Kan and Li, which symbolize Water and Fire. “Rising and heating” means the refining process described earlier as the pivotal mechanism. “Submerging and steaming” describes the interaction of the White Tiger (Metal), Azure Dragon (Water), and Vermilion Bird (Fire): Metal generates Water, and Water in turn restrains Fire, thereby refining the Elixir. Its form resembles what was described earlier: it first liquefies and then solidifies, forming crosswise, slanted crystals shaped like horse teeth.

“Making a sorrowful wailing sound” also refers to the ceaseless sounds, day and night, described earlier. The Yin and Yang substances combine and dwell together quietly and without desire; this refers to what was said earlier about each keeping to its place and resting there. The Fang mansion is one of the Seven Mansions of the east, and “six” refers to its degree. The seventh degree of Mao and the second degree of Zhang are to be understood in the same way. The “two substances” are Yin and Yang; “three and five” means that Fire, Metal, and Wood all receive their Qi from Earth. The commentary suggests that, judging by the context, “combine as one” may perhaps have been intended to read “combine with one.” The commentator says the meaning of “two locations” and “take fu” remains unclear.

Such changes occur naturally; they are not the work of some strange or illusory art. Moisture rises and mingles between mountains and marshes, then condenses into clouds, which in turn become rain.

When the soil dries out, it becomes dust. When a fire goes out, its embers naturally turn to earth. Huangbo bark dyes things yellow; indigo plants dye them blue-green. Processed animal hides become glue. Fermented yeast and malted grain—the sprouted grain used in brewing—become wine. In each case, things of the same kind change according to their own nature. Nothing is conjured out of thin air through some ingenious art.

This explains the examples given earlier: things of the same kind come together and produce effects readily, while things of different natures are difficult to bring together by clever means.

This subtle art and principle must be examined carefully; it is no deception. It will be passed down for countless generations, its contents clear and open to examination. Its principles shine brightly, like stars spread across the Milky Way, and like a hundred rivers flowing toward the sea. When studying it, let your thoughts mature and repeatedly examine what comes before and after. Read it a thousand times, and its meaning will gradually become clear; read it ten thousand times, and you may gain insight. Perhaps it will be as though the spirits have revealed it to you, and understanding will suddenly arise on its own.

If you investigate the beginning of a matter and follow its clues, you can ultimately find a way in. The Way of Heaven shows neither favor nor aversion; it always imparts its teachings to those who have De and understanding.

This means that the purpose of this book is set out clearly. Students need only read it a thousand or ten thousand times, and they will gradually come to understand it, as though the spirits themselves had explained it. This is no empty claim. Dong Yu said, “Read a book a thousand times, and its meaning will reveal itself.” He also said, “Think it over and over. If you still cannot understand it, it will seem as though spirits have come to instruct you. This is not the power of spirits; it is what happens when the mind is wholly focused.” These words are no falsehood.

Five Resemblances

This chapter is divided into five sections: the first discusses the Can Tong; the second, the Taiyi; the third draws images from that text; the fourth discusses the “Gui Diagram”; and the fifth, “Weishi.”

What the Cantong qi says is no falsehood.

Five Resemblances

This chapter is divided into five sections: the first discusses the Can Tong; the second, the Taiyi; the third draws images from that text; the fourth discusses the “Gui Diagram”; and the fifth, “Weishi.”

In setting out its meaning, the Cantong qi does not maintain a sufficiently coherent thread or achieve complete unity. Nor is it fully comprehensive in its finer details; gaps and ambiguities remain.

Now I have gathered these writings again, supplied what was missing, clarified what was obscure and difficult, and linked related statements so that their meanings accord throughout and point toward the same conclusion without contradiction.

I have therefore written this piece, entitled “The Five Categories,” in which I explain the principles and nature of the Great Change (Taiyi), the fundamental state of the cosmos before differentiation.

The principles and nature of the Great Change each follow their own laws. By examining and comparing them through the teachings of Huang-Lao—the thought associated with the Yellow Emperor and Laozi—we can understand and put them to use.

The furnace and fire methods of alchemy have a sound basis: all three paths arise from the same root and lead to the same way. They are like a tree’s trunk and branches, blossoms and leaves, which eventually bear fruit and spread across its boughs.

The root lies in the tree’s base; it must not lose its original nature. These are indeed words spoken with sincerity and care. Examine them closely, and you will find no error.

This is like midwinter, when bamboo and trees are damaged by the cold. At such a time, one should support Yang Qi and restrain Yin Qi; the ruler, too, should remain hidden and still, conserving strength.

One should take the seasons as one’s model and follow the rhythms of the calendar, keeping silent and avoiding rash discussion. The Way of Heaven is vast and boundless; the Great Mystery, the profound and subtle body of the Way, cannot be depicted in any image.

It is empty, still, and silent, beyond sight; even its boundaries and outlines have disappeared. If one misunderstands and confuses the principles, speech itself will lead to error and bring harm upon the speaker.

I explain these four images one by one, to enlighten those who come after, still in the dark.

This refers to the transition between the dark moon and the new moon, when the month ends and begins and Yin and Yang change over. At that time, Heaven and Earth are in an undifferentiated chaos, with all traces concealed deep within. The Great Mystery has no fixed image. “The highest good is like water” may serve as a way to explain it, while “the boundaries and outlines vanish” means that no limits or contours remain. If one confuses the principles, speech will turn back upon the speaker and cause harm.

I explain these four images one by one, to enlighten those who come after, still in the dark.

This refers to the transition between the dark moon and the new moon, when Heaven and Earth remain undifferentiated and all traces are concealed deep within. The Great Mystery has no fixed image. “The highest good is like water” may serve as a metaphor, but the True One, the pure and undivided source on which all things depend, is difficult to depict. What exactly the “four images” refer to remains unsettled.

I am a humble man from the state of Kuai, living in seclusion in a remote valley, unknown to the world.

Zhu Xi said, “Wei Jun was in fact from Shangyu; the original text should read ‘Kuaiji.’ It is also possible that ‘Yu’ is being used as a hidden allusion.”

My heart is simple and sincere; I have no taste for power or splendor. I live in a remote, humble place and care little for fame. I hold fast to quiet and simplicity, hoping only for peace and stability in the world.

I traveled far to the region of Yan, and there I wrote this piece. I sing the praises of Uncle Da’s Yi, the Changes, and transmit the teachings left by the three sages. By examining their intent, one can see that these accounts belong to a single line of thought.

The essential task is to follow the principles of things and bring the spirit to light. When wondrous transformations flow freely, the Four Seas can be at peace. I have compiled these teachings into a calendar…

A visitor from afar came to the land of Yan (around present-day Hebei) to ask questions, so I wrote this piece, reciting what Uncle Da transmitted in the Book of Changes and the teachings left by the three sages Fuxi, King Wen, and Confucius. Examining their underlying meaning, one can see that they all lead to the same principle.

This book teaches how to follow the order of things and make the spirit clear; how to let wondrous transformations flow freely and bring peace to the world. It can serve as the basis for the calendar, to be followed by later generations for a long time.

The book also teaches methods for governing affairs of state, which are not difficult to put into practice. It speaks as well of inner cultivation and nurturing one’s nature, following the natural Way described by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. Profound De leads one back to the root and restores one’s original state.

The principle lies within one’s own heart and is never separate from oneself. Hold fast to “the One”—the Daoist Way of single-mindedness and purity—and never abandon it; then it can endure. The practice of ingesting elixirs, too, is arranged according to the pairing of Yin and Yang, female and male.

One should exclude materials for refining elixirs such as Wudu and set aside the so-called Eight Minerals, the mineral substances used in alchemy. Careful application is necessary for success; this is what the world values. The book sets out three interconnected strands, whose branches and leaves are entwined.

Though these teachings have different names, they all come from the same tradition. This piece does not merely pile up phrases; it takes care to match its wording and pair what comes before with what follows. There is likely genuine meaning in it, and even if it is as rough as gravel, it is worth examining closely.

If I were merely to set out empty words, I would invite blame. Therefore I have named this book The Seal of the Unity of the Three, so that readers may glimpse its first threads. Its words are few, but its meaning is vast; later generations should follow it.

Follow the times and avoid calamity; make one’s dwelling in the mountains and forests. Roam through realms vast and remote, as a neighbor to ghosts and spirits. Transform the body and become an immortal; return to silence and stillness.

Across a hundred generations, one may occasionally come to wander in the human world. Spread the wings and fly toward the east, west, north, and south. King Tang once faced hardship, as droughts and floods came one after another. The branches and leaves of plants withered, losing their lush brilliance. If those who are auspicious and good can support and sustain one another, they may live long and secure.

Song of the Crucible

The crucible, the vessel that holds the substances during alchemical work, is round, and its dimensions follow the numbers three and five. Its diameter is one cun and one fen; the vessel’s mouth follows the number “four-eight,” and its rim is two cun wide. The body is two chi long, with an even thickness; its belly is divided into three layers, and it is set firmly in place and kept warm.

Some editions write “one chi and two” instead of “two chi”; Peng Xiao explains it as two chi. Some editions write “three equal” instead of “equal three.” Here, “equal” means “navel.”

The crucible’s upper part belongs to Yin and its lower part to Yang. Yang Qi moves downward, keeping the crucible seated firmly and warm.

The Yin Qi (vital energy) rises above, while the Yang Qi descends below. These two lines state the key principles of cultivation.

In cultivation, one uses fierce heating at the beginning and end, and gentle heating in the middle. Yin Fire is like white Qi; the Yellow Sprout is the refined essence produced through the process; and lead refers to the lead-like substance used in alchemy. The seven apertures on either side support one another, guarding the cultivator like two wings. Regulate the gallbladder’s Qi and nourish the spirit of the brain, so that the ascending Qi settles and enters the mysterious realm.

Let Jing (essence) and Qi dwell securely at the center of the body, where they can be safely preserved. They circulate within the body and need not go out. As cultivation gradually bears fruit, one’s nature becomes pure. In the end, return to the One and go back to the original source.

Reaching the state of returning to the One requires long and arduous cultivation. One must guard it closely and avoid confusion and disorientation. The path of practice is long, deep, and mysterious; if you can understand it, you can grasp the transformations of Qian and Kun—the Yin-Yang of Heaven and Earth.

Those who love the Dao (the Way) should seek out the root, examine the relationships among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and determine their proportions. Consider the principles carefully; there is no need to say much. Keep the method concealed and guard it with care; do not pass it on lightly.

Drive a white crane and ride a dragon-scaled chariot, roaming through the Great Void, the boundless expanse, to pay homage to the Immortal Lord. Record the images of Heaven and receive the title “Realized Person.”

The wording of the Cantong qi is plain, yet the principles it presents are grand; its language is concise, yet its meaning far-reaching. It draws on the founding enterprises of the Five Emperors and the establishment of government by the Three Sovereigns to explain the way of governance: if the duties of ruler and minister are unclear and there are no standards for those above and below, then even governing in proper sequence cannot bring peace and order. Taking medicines alone does not necessarily bring long life, and cultivating one’s nature alone does not necessarily extend one’s years.

As for analyzing Yin and Yang, balancing their proportions, examining the waxing and waning of the sun and moon, forming symbols from the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), comparing their transformations to the union of man and woman, and discussing the movement and stillness of hardness and softness, as well as distinctions as fine as those between rice and salt—all of this is grounded in the classics and treated with great care. For this reason, the author set down principles and methods to pass on to worthy people in later generations. Anyone who grasps the larger patterns can gain long life, strengthen the body, and increase its vitality. Those who practice this Way should give it their earnest attention.

This prefatory encomium seems to have been written by a later person for the commentary. The commentary has since been lost, and only the preface remains. The phrase “set down principles and methods” should probably read “wrote the commentary”; the difference may have arisen from a copying error.

Zhu Xi said: Some people call this piece an “Afterword,” while others call it Wei Boyang’s “Eulogy.” Judging from its meaning, however, it is actually an afterword to the commentary. In his preface, Peng Xiao says that Wei Boyang once secretly entrusted the Zhouyi Cantongqi to Xu Congshi of Qingzhou and asked him to write an annotated commentary. Xu concealed his name and completed the annotations. Zhu Xi conjectured that this piece may have been written by Xu Congshi. That commentary has not survived.

The Zhouyi Cantongqi mentioned above was written by Wei Boyang, who lived in the Eastern Han dynasty. Its title was probably modeled on the naming conventions of weishu—ancient works that attached interpretations to the classics and made predictions of good and ill fortune. Both the wording and the rhymes are archaic and profound, making the text difficult to understand. Readers with limited knowledge have often altered the original text at will, so this book contains more errors than other works. The various editions have now been gathered, compared, and corrected against one another. Many passages remain obscure and difficult to resolve, and cannot be fully understood; the text has therefore been arranged into an authoritative edition on the basis of current understanding. Variants among the editions have also been preserved for future reference and correction. The piece is signed “Daoist Zou Xin of Kongtong.”

On investigation, “Zou Xin” was a name Zhu Xi borrowed to publish the work under a pseudonym. “Zou” was another name for the state of Zhu during the Spring and Autumn period. The Yueji says, “Heaven and earth joyfully unite”; Zheng Xuan’s commentary says that “joyfully” should be written “harmoniously.”

Zhu Xi said: According to the Book of Wei, the opening first discusses the four hexagrams Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li, showing how they are like the opening and closing of a bellows. It then discusses the sixty hexagrams beginning with Tun and Meng to explain the timing of practice throughout a day. Next, it discusses the six hexagrams of the najia system to show how practice gradually advances or recedes over the course of a month. Then it takes up the twelve sovereign hexagrams, using the sixty hexagrams beginning with Tun and Meng to explain the sequence of practice through a day, and the six na jia hexagrams to explain the month’s advance and retreat. The twelve sovereign hexagrams also divide the six na jia hexagrams into two groups, assigning each its own pairing. In this way, the inner account details the seasonal divisions of each month, while the outer account also takes in the work of the year. These, broadly speaking, are the matters that the Cantong qi draws from the Yijing to explain. It does not discuss the 384 lines.

The methods for timing the firing process that circulate today, however, treat the 384 lines as the number of units in one circuit, with each line corresponding to a day. Since the number of lines exceeds the number of days, practitioners must leave out four hexagrams, or twenty-four lines, and then add them back gradually as the twenty-four solar terms arrive. This no longer accords with the principle of natural correspondence. Moreover, the lines used each day are yin or yang, yet follow no fixed sequence, and the distinctions between different kinds of practice are unclear. Further, a day’s course has already passed through 360 units, while only one line is added at each solar term; the relative weights of these quantities do not match. The twenty-four lines are added gradually but removed abruptly, and the process shows no pattern of reciprocal cycling. I suspect that later generations devised this method according to their own ideas; it may not have been Wei Boyang’s original intention.

I believe the key to understanding this book lies in the two characters Kan and Li. Once this guiding principle is grasped, the stages of practice that Wei Boyang left unexplained can naturally be understood from it. As long as one does not miss the proper timing of morning and evening or the rhythm of advance and retreat, one can practice without adhering rigidly to each point of earlier interpretations. I therefore worked out a method based on calculating the numbers of the ce tallies, which seems reasonably orderly. Like the method based on the number of lines, it is something Wei Boyang did not state explicitly; still, at first glance, this method seems to make some sense.

A month is divided according to the twelve sovereign hexagrams, each covering about two and a half days. Each hexagram uses its own lines to carry out the number of ce tallies assigned to it. From the eighth month’s Guan hexagram to the first month’s Tai hexagram, yang uses the smaller number, twenty-eight tallies, and yin the larger number, twenty-four. From the fourth month’s Dazhuang hexagram to the seventh month’s Pi hexagram, yang uses the larger number, thirty-six tallies, and yin the smaller number, twenty-two. Yang represents the movement of Qi; yin represents gathering and stillness. When the course of one line is complete, one cycle of opening and transformation is formed. Taken together, the twelve resting hexagrams constitute the practice of one month. When the cycle runs through twelve months, it makes up the course of a year. Repeated in this way, the numbers have neither excess nor deficiency. I had already drawn this system in a chart and intended to discuss it with Cai Jitong, but before I could send it to him, he died.

As far as I know, Zhu Xi never lightly trusted hearsay or casually attributed works to ancient sages. For instance, he held that the Ma Yi Yijing was written by Dai Shiyu, and that the Guan Ziming Yijing was a forgery by Ruan Yi. Given how highly he valued textual investigation and reliable transmission, it is striking that he left no clear expression of doubt about the Cantong qi. Moreover, his interpretations of the Yijing drew much from Shao Yong. He once said that Shao Yong’s teachings came down from Chen Tuan, and that Chen Tuan’s scholarly lineage in turn derived from the Cantong qi. This shows how seriously Zhu Xi regarded the Cantong qi.

He once said, “What lies before us is already quite clear; we simply have not yet found where to begin.” He also said, “Only now have I begun to sort out the thread of it; I have not yet found the materials and crucial openings within.” In the Ding-si year of the Qingyuan era, Cai Jitong was assigned to Daozhou. Before setting out, he spent the night at Hanquan and worked with Zhu Xi to collate the Cantong qi. They stayed up all night. That teacher and student could devote themselves so fully amid hardship is moving to reflect on. Their care for the Cantong qi makes clear that they had resolved to free themselves from worldly entanglements. Cai Jitong died the following year. Zhu Xi later obtained the method based on the numbers of the ce tallies, and regretted that he had not been able to discuss it with him. Two years later, Zhu Xi also died.

From this, it appears that the Cantong qi and the Yinfu jing began to receive serious attention through Zhu Xi and his students. Since they judged that the two books did not conflict with the Way of the sages, they can be trusted. That is why the compilers placed them after the Taiji Diagram and the Xiantian Diagram. The principles they contain are, at root, no different.

This concludes the lower volume of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three According to the Book of Changes).

The following textual notes explain differences in wording among editions: Note 1: “Yun” appears as “Yun” in the Siku edition. Note 2: “Shi” appears as “Ruan.” Note 3: “Wei” appears as “Yu.” Note 4: “Zanci” appears as “Zanci.” Note 5: the original reads “Xi”; this has been changed to “Xi” according to the Siku edition. Note 6: “Chu wu” appears as “Yi wu.” Note 7: “Yunyi” appears as “Niyi.” Note 8: “Qizheng” appears as “Zhengqi.” Note 9: the original “Kaixi shuqi” has been changed to “Kaipi zhi qi” according to the Siku edition. Note 10: “One month” appears as “One day.” Note 11: “Twelve months” appears as “Twelve hexagrams.” Note 12: the original reads “Ze”; this has been changed to “Yi” according to the Siku edition. Note 13: the original “Chengxiang” has been changed to “Chengjia” according to the Siku edition. Note 14: the character “You” has been added according to the Siku edition. Note 15: “Shisu” appears as “Shiwai.” Note 16: the original reads “Zi”; this has been changed to “Gu” according to the Siku edition.

Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three According to the Book of Changes)

Appended by Huang Ruizhe, a later scholar from Luling.

During the Five Dynasties, Peng Xiao wrote in his “Preface to the Explanation of the Meaning”:

“Wei Boyang was from Shangyu in Kuaiji. He devoted himself to cultivating the Dao, practicing quietly and inwardly, with the resolve to become calm and empty. He was widely learned and eloquent, and understood the various prophetic writings and the calendars of celestial phenomena. He obtained the Ancient Text of the Dragon and Tiger and grasped its subtle meaning. He then composed the three sections of the Cantong qi on the basis of the Zhouyi, and also wrote one section, ‘Supplementing What Was Missing and Omitted.’ The book expresses much through fables and metaphor. Some passages are explicit, others obscure, and its wording varies.

“Wei Boyang secretly entrusted the book to Xu Congshi of Qingzhou. Xu concealed his name and wrote a commentary on it. During the reign of Emperor Huan of the Han, Wei Boyang transmitted the book to Chunyu Shutong, a fellow native of Kuaiji. From then on, it circulated among the people.

“Can means ‘to combine,’ tong means ‘to connect,’ and qi means ‘to correspond.’ The title means that the principles set out in this book connect with those of the Zhouyi and accord with its meaning. The book uses the relationship between ruler and ministers to explain the inner and outer aspects of the practice. It draws on the images of the Li and Kan trigrams to refer directly to alchemical terms such as mercury and lead. It takes Qian and Kun as its guiding principles to establish the dimensions of the vessel, and explains relationships such as parent and child, beginning and end, and husband and wife, using them as metaphors for conjunction and coordination in cultivation. It also uses human reproduction to explain generation and transformation, analyzes change through Yin-Yang, and guides cultivation through cycles of movement back and forth. The phases of the lunar month, ascent and descent, changes in the trigrams and their lines, the direction of the Dipper’s handle, the courses of the stars, the light and darkness of day and night, and the measurement of time by the water clock all serve as points of comparison. The book discusses its subject largely through the images and numbers of the Zhouyi; hence its title, the Zhouyi Cantong qi.”

According to the catalogue of commentaries on the Cantong qi, the work has nineteen editions, comprising thirty-one volumes. Related bibliographic records appear in Zheng’s Yiwenzhi. Peng Xiao’s commentary circulated more widely than the others. He divided the work into three volumes and ninety chapters, claiming that this arrangement corresponded to the number “Yang Nine.” He also listed the Songdingqi as a separate piece, saying it corresponded to the number “Water One.” Such claims are forced interpretations, modeled on Heshang Gong’s division of the Laozi into an Upper Scripture and a Lower Scripture, with a total of eighty-one chapters. In fact, they do not accord with the original work.

Bao argues that Peng Xiao’s edition was casually altered by shallow scholars in recent times. The versions held in the imperial library and circulated among the people alike contain errors, interpolations, and omissions, and they differ from one another, making it difficult to judge which is reliable. Zhu Xi examined and established the text by citing documentary evidence, and thus brought the editions of the Cantong qi to a preliminary determination. For this reason, no other views are added here.

Note: “Yang Nine” and “Water One” refer to numerical symbols used to express ideas such as Yin-Yang and the Five Phases. “Secret Repository” refers to a place where the government kept its books and records.

Zhu Xi said: The Cantong qi was not originally written to explain the Book of Changes. It merely borrowed the method of Najia—an occult technique that matches the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches with the images of the trigrams—to convey the timing of advance and retreat and the firing phases in cultivation. I often wanted to study this art, but no one taught it to me. Since I did not even know where to begin, I did not dare to discuss it lightly. The Najia method described in the book is, however, the Jing Fang divination method that circulates today, a form of divination that uses the images of the trigrams to infer good and ill fortune. Traces of its terminology can still be found in the Huozhu Lin.

The Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Geng, and Xin mentioned in the book describe the moon’s changing appearances as it rises and sets at dusk and dawn; they are not assigned respectively to the positions of six trigrams. Although this account was not intended to explain the Book of Changes, the principles contained in the Book of Changes are inherently universal. A system of ideas that is internally coherent and can be developed consistently does not prevent one from understanding the Book of Changes.

The Cantong qi composed by Boyang (Wei Boyang, its author) may have some line of transmission connecting it with the teachings of Xiyi (Chen Tuan). The Earlier Heaven diagram, which uses the Eight Trigrams to depict the sequence in which the cosmos comes into being, corresponds to Nayin, a system of occult arts that matches the stems and branches with the Five Phases and names them by their sounds. Cai Jitong said that these correspond to the Cantong qi. Read according to the diagram, Kun lies between the hexagrams Fu and corresponds to the dark moon at the end of the month; Zhen corresponds to the third day, symbolizing the first emergence of Yang energy; the eighth day corresponds to Dui and the first quarter moon; the fifteenth day corresponds to Qian; and the eighteenth day corresponds to Xun, symbolizing the first emergence of Yin energy. The twenty-third day corresponds to Gen and the last quarter moon. The Kan and Li trigrams represent the sun and moon, so they are not used in this system for matching lunar phases with trigrams. The Cantong qi treats Kan and Li as ingredients, while the other trigrams indicate the firing phases of alchemical refinement.

Shaozi (Shao Yong) expounded the Earlier Heaven diagram. It is said to have been passed down by Xiyi, who in turn received it from another source. It probably originated in the occult arts of the fangshi and was used for cultivation; the Cantong qi discusses just this kind of material.

The Cantong qi is exceptionally well written and was probably composed by a skilled writer of the Eastern Han. Its wording all draws on ancient books and is not easy for later readers to understand, so it has often been misinterpreted over the ages. Many versions circulate in the world. One line reads: “A thousand recitations, bright and ordered; ten thousand transformations may then be seen. The spirits may perhaps reveal it to a person; the soul suddenly understands of itself.” This means that after repeated recitation, the text’s meaning and essential instructions gradually become clear.

The Liu family of Xuxi said: Among the ancient books, only the Cantong qi reads like a text from before the Qin dynasty.