《唐叶真人传》

Daoism takes purity, stillness, Wuwei (non-action), emptiness, quietude, and detachment as its foundations. The way of the immortals, by contrast, uses daoyin exercises and cultivation as its methods of practice. Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu of Han once sought immortals. When they searched without success, they said, “Where in the world are there immortals? It is all absurd talk.” Alas, the transformations of immortals are without limit; their depths are mysterious and beyond measure. They regard fame and wealth as worn-out shoes, and high office and generous emoluments as mere dirt. How could rulers consumed by desire ever attain such a state?

When I took office as local governor of Kuocang, in the area of present-day Lishui, Zhejiang, my cousin Zhang, a Daoist adept, came to visit me one day. He showed me The Biography of Celestial Master Ye. The book recounts how the Perfected Ye summoned divine beings and met immortal guests; these experiences all arose from his diligent cultivation over many years. The Perfected Ye possessed the bearing and spirit of an immortal and had long been in communion with the divine. Thus he could respond to and encounter them, and they were attuned to one another.

His effortless attainment of an affinity with the immortals also came from his filial devotion to his parents and loyalty to his ruler, virtues sufficient to move Heaven and Earth and evoke a response from spirits and gods. His rank among the immortals stood high, among the ministers of the upper court. He could command the winds and ride the thunder, and enjoyed honors bestowed by Heaven. How could these compare with the ordinary ranks of the human world?

The Perfected Ye has now been an immortal for many hundreds, even thousands, of years. He prays for clear skies and entreats Heaven for rain, bringing blessings to the people. The response comes as swiftly as an echo answering a call, so he rightly deserves to receive sacrifices. People have offered incense to him from generation to generation; their reverence will endure for all ages and never cease.

In the spring of the Gengzi year of the Chunyou era (1240), Ma Guangzu of Yuzhai wrote this preface.

Biography of the Perfected Lingxu Jiansu, Duke of Yue and Minister of the Court of State Ceremonial in the Tang dynasty.

The Perfected One’s surname was Ye, his given name was Fashan, and his courtesy name was Daoyuan; he was also known as Taisu. His ancestral home was Nanyang. After the Liang dynasty, his ancestor Ye Gongchen moved to Jiangzuo, the region along the lower Yangtze. During the reigns of Emperors Huan and Ling at the end of the Han dynasty, the family moved south of the Yangtze to escape the turmoil of war. His distant ancestor Ye Jian loved mountains and rivers. He later came to the southern part of Kuaiji, lived in seclusion between Mao and You, and settled in Songyang. His great-great-grandfather Ye Qianyu was renowned for his virtue. His great-grandfather Ye Daoxing carried on the family’s affairs, and his grandfather Ye Guozhong began building the family residence. His father, Ye Huiming, studied poetry, the classics, and ritual, and made his living as a Confucian scholar. He never sought wealth or imperial favor. He often roamed the forests and hills, slept with a stone for a pillow and rinsed his mouth with stream water, singing as he gathered firewood and frequently living in a thatched hut.

Ye Huiming once foretold, “I will have a son.” One day, while his wife, Lady Liu, was sleeping, she dreamed that a shooting star flew into her mouth. She swallowed it and then became pregnant. After carrying the child for fifteen months, she gave birth to the Perfected One. The year was called “Kun Dun,” and the month “Huang Zhong.” At his birth, the sky was clear and the energy of the four seasons was pure. A strange fragrance drifted through the room, divine radiance filled the hall, colored clouds circled overhead, and a black crane flew down to the house. It is said that while the Perfected One was still in his mother’s womb, his voice could already be heard outside.

From birth, the Perfected One was exceptionally intelligent, and he stood out from other children when he was very young. At seven, he showed uncommon insight and a gentle disposition, though his appearance was that of a mature and dignified man. His father studied him closely and said, “You are diligent and hardworking as a child. When you grow up, you are sure to become refined and distinguished.” Later, the Perfected One crossed the river on a journey and did not return home for three years. His family thought he had drowned. When he came back, they asked what had happened. He replied, “Two Azure Youths—immortal attendants in Daoist legend—took me away and served me Cloud Nectar, the fabled drink of immortals. They kept me there for a long time.”

When the Perfected One was ten, a skilled physiognomist said, “Your forehead is like the sun, your gaze deep as the moon, your back rises in a hump, and your upper body is long while your lower body is short. In the future, you will become a teacher to emperors.” Around the age of twenty, the Perfected One stood nine feet tall and had two markings on his forehead shaped like the character wu. His nature was pure. From childhood, he ate no meat or pungent foods, preferred to live alone in a quiet room, and loved studying ancient books and learning the art of writing.

Master Ye of the Tang dynasty loved ancient books and literature from childhood. At eleven, he recited the Book of Odes and the Book of Documents; at twelve, he studied ritual and music. He delved deeply into the Zhou Changes and immersed himself in the teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi. He also read attentively the Hetu and Luoshu diagrams, along with various prophetic texts and charts. Resolving to cultivate the Dao, he withdrew among mountains, forests, and springs. Later, he and his father sought refuge together on Mount Mao, sustaining themselves by cutting firewood and gathering plants.

He surveyed the lay of the mountains and rivers, seeking places of exceptional beauty, and observed the stars and changes in the weather. He climbed to heights and descended into deep places, followed streams to their sources, and crossed treacherous terrain. By then, he was already able to command spirits to guard him. A huge rock blocked the path in front of his door. He cast a Fulu (talismans and registers) at it, and in an instant the rock flew up and landed southeast of the mountain. Everyone was astonished. A hollow left by the rock can still be seen on Mount Mao today.

He often explored remote places to visit hermits and seek auspicious mountains and rivers where spiritual marvels were said to occur. Once he went to the area around Sword-Casting Stream, where there were Ou Stream, a tomb said to have been formed from a goddess, Stone Gate Ridge, and Immortal’s Dragging-Shoe Ridge. The mountain ranges stretched onward, linking Mount Kuocang with the grotto-heaven of Xiandu—a Daoist celestial realm—and extending toward the Tiantai and Siming regions. Nearby lay Red Pine Grotto on Mount Chang in Jinhua, said to be where Huang Chuping, a legendary immortal, shouted at rocks and turned them into sheep. These places were not far apart. In the mountains were the waterfall of White Horse Mountain and the deep, ten-thousand-zhang ravine of Green Stream. The region had been known since ancient times as “Immortal Abode.” With its abundant forests and springs, it was where the Master chose to live in seclusion.

When his family was poor, he once said, “I am still in the world and have yet to achieve anything. My parents are old; how could I fail to provide for them?” So he hired himself out as a farmhand and worked without pause day after day. At that time, purple clouds often shaded him from the sun above his head. When others took his spot in the shade, the clouds moved to follow him. Fishermen once swept him into a muddy patch beyond the water, but he never complained or showed anger. When tending horses, he removed what threatened them; when tending cattle, he never took anything of value from them.

Not long afterward, while mourning his parents, he went into the mountains near Ou Stream to find a burial place. In the snow, a white deer lay at the foot of a mountain. As he approached, it sprang up and ran away. Yet the spot where it had lain remained warm, and a stream of white vapor rose from it, extending continuously over the high and low ground. The Master found this sight extraordinary and continued along the mountain in search of a burial site.

Master Ye found the mountain’s contours unusual, so he climbed to a high point and looked around. He saw tier upon tier of hills and mountain ridges encircling the site, with slopes stretching and rising and falling to the left and right, before and behind. The terrain formed a complete pattern. He exclaimed, “This is a place where one may be buried,” and had the burial carried out there.

The Master said, “If I had not met an accomplished teacher, how could I have cultivated the Dao and helped the world?” He was only thirteen when he set out from Mount Kuocang. He traveled in turn to Tiantai, Siming, Jinhua, and Kuaiji, then explored the regions of Jiangsu and Zhejiang. He next journeyed north to Tianzhu, Tianmu, Gusu, Dongting, Gouqu, Hengshan, and Huoshan; traveled south to Jianshui; climbed Mount Chicheng; and visited places as far away as Luofu. He had been to nearly all the famous mountains and scenic places south of the Yangtze and Han rivers.

Later, he went to Yuzhang to visit Master Wan, from whom he sought instruction in alchemical practice, bigu (cultivation through dietary regulation or fasting), daoyin (health practices combining breath and movement), and taixi (breath cultivation that makes the breath long and subtle). He practiced movements that stretched the body like a bear and extended it like a bird, exhaled stale Qi and inhaled fresh Qi, and ate pine nuts and plants, giving no thought to worldly honors and riches. At the age of fifteen, he was poisoned and nearly died.

He also dreamed that the Green Youth (a title for an immortal) said, “The immortals of Gouqu and the Mao Lord of Tiantai will send a flying seal to save you.” As soon as the words were spoken, a seal flew in and landed on his abdomen. After a long while, he suddenly felt his body ease and returned to normal. Later, he traveled far to seek out the Mao Lord. When they met, the Mao Lord’s brow bones were prominent and his pupils square. Smiling, he said, “You have come. Your name has already been entered in the register of immortals. Your body has undergone the trials of demonic adversity, so I came to save you from danger. From now on, you should make it your purpose to aid the people and support their moral instruction.”

After this, the Master studied the arts of Dunjia and treading the Mystery with Zhao Yuanyang at Mount Qingcheng, practices associated with Daoist magic and ritual. At Mount Song, he learned from Wei Shanjun the Way of the Eight Histories and Cloud Charms. Later, he entered Mount Meng in search of ways to live in seclusion and cultivate the Dao. On the way, he met a Daoist who asked, “Where are you going?” The Master replied, “I want to seek out a teacher and learn the arts of the Dao.” The Daoist said, “I too am studying the Dao, and I’m glad to meet you here. I have to go elsewhere for a while. I have a small garment; please keep watch over it for me.” The Master agreed: “All right.”

The Daoist departed. A few days later, he returned and said to Master Ye, “You are truly a man of the Dao. I would like to repay you with a scroll of immortal writings and a divine sword.” He then opened his bundle, took out the book and sword, and presented them to Master Ye. As he took his leave, the Daoist added, “Simply carry these things with you wherever you go. In time, visions and spiritual states will gradually appear, and you will be able to know in advance what is auspicious or inauspicious, good or evil.”

Master Ye then joined the ingredients to refine a divine elixir and set up an altar for his practice. Years passed as he continued to focus his thoughts and offer prayers, hoping for a spiritual response. At midnight on the first Jia day of the tenth month, he burned incense and made a prayer. Suddenly, he heard bells and chimes ringing in the air, along with the music of pipes, strings, and flutes. He rose to look, and in an instant saw that the entire room was filled with attendants, carriages, and riders. Among them were three divine beings, each manifesting spiritual power. All three stood more than eight feet tall, had extraordinary features, wore robes of cloud brocade, and had crowns that reached the heavens.

Master Ye bowed low and, with reverence, asked them for guidance. The divine beings said, “Sit down. There is no need to be afraid. The Most High has sent us to tell you that you were destined to attain the Dao. In the past, you held office in the Left Palace of the Purple Tenuity at the Supreme Ultimate, where you were in charge of the register of immortals. You recorded the names of those in the world who had attained the Dao, increased their years of life, reduced their allotted years, and submitted reports three times each month. Because you were careless on one occasion and traveled throughout the eight directions while on leave, you were demoted to the human world. Now you must cultivate merit and accumulate De anew. When your deeds are complete, you will regain your former immortal rank.

“You are now practicing the Three-Five Alliance Might and the methods of Orthodox Unity (Zhengyi), a tradition of Daoist rites and precepts. You cut down demons and malevolent spirits, aid people suffering from drought, give to the poor, and govern the human world on Heaven’s behalf. Make secret acts of kindness your first priority; there is no need to prepare offerings or pray separately. I have immortal methods to transmit to you. You must observe a quiet fast for three days and keep this hidden from the people. After receiving my oral instructions, do not write them down or pass them on in writing, lest they reach someone unworthy. If you carelessly reveal the will of the Heavenly Emperor, the guilt will extend to your ancestors for seven generations and prevent them from ascending to Heaven.” With that, the divine beings gave him talismans, a sword, a seal, and a stamp.

Another divine being said, “You must now leave your true station and descend to be born among humankind. You should accumulate merit and virtue extensively. I will also teach you the talismanic diagrams of the Five Sacred Peaks, the great characters of the Celestial Emperor, and the secret, wondrous methods of the True Scripture of the Three Ones, the Purple Writ of the Yellow Court, the Plain Writ of the Eight Radiances, and pacing the stars while treading the Dipper. But you must diligently practice the highest methods of the Three Caverns and Shangqing, the way of the Highest Perfected, without interruption, morning and night. You must also preserve the Five Thousand Words—that is, the Dao De Jing—for a long time, using it to govern human affairs and discern the transformations of Heaven and Earth. Do not reveal these methods lightly. In time, the Dao will naturally be perfected.”

Another divine being said, “The utmost Dao is subtle and cannot be explained through words like these alone. What matters is to guard the One—steadfastly maintaining the body, mind, and original Shen—while casting aside pride and sexual desire, and practicing day and night without letup. You must also preserve the Five Thousand Words for a long time, governing human affairs and discerning the transformations of Heaven and Earth. Do not reveal the Dao lightly. In time, it will naturally be perfected.”

Yet another divine being said, “The utmost Dao is subtle and cannot be explained through words like these alone. What matters is to guard the One, cast aside pride and sexual desire, and practice morning and evening without fail. In your cultivation, you may sound bells and beat drums, regulate the Three Passes—the inner bodily apertures described in Daoist cultivation—practice daoyin and breathing exercises, take Neidan and Waidan, keep the sun and moon in your thoughts, open and close the gates within your body, and practice the Way of the Highest One at dawn. Then vermilion radiance will shine inwardly through your body, and the Wuying and Baiyuan—the spirits said to dwell within the body—will come to protect you. Huangdi and Laozi, together representing the Daoist way, will make a report on your behalf at the heavenly court. When your merit is complete and your cultivation finished, you will surely ascend.”

The divine being added, “After receiving these teachings, practice diligently and never grow weary. When the appointed time draws near, go to the mountain peak north of the residence of Lord Jingyang of the Xu family, Xu Xun. We will meet there again.”

The Perfected One bowed low in thanks and said, “My cultivation is shallow and my virtue insufficient. I never imagined that the Heavenly Perfected would descend to grant me instruction; this is entirely beyond my expectations. I respectfully accept your teaching and will devote myself to carrying it out.” He bowed again and took his leave. The divine being then rose into the sky and departed.

From then on, the Perfected One secretly accumulated merit and performed good deeds, saving people from death and disaster. In Kuaiji, he treated the sick and brought the dead back to life many times. Later, in Yangzhou, he used a sword to open the abdomen of the prefect’s wife, removing the diseased matter and showing it to those present. Her illness immediately vanished, and her body returned to normal. It is said that whether he opened the intestines, replaced the stomach, or cut open the abdomen and reshaped the body, he caused no injury and brought no pain.

Master Ye Zhenren could pluck out his own eyes, place them on paper, wash them clean, remove the film clouding his sight, and put them back in their sockets. Throughout the entire process, he remained completely composed, and his eyes regained their clarity. When someone insisted on giving him money, he passed it on to poor people who were ill.

Wherever malevolent spirits caused trouble or improper sacrifices brought disaster, Master Ye Zhenren would go and vanquish the spirits. He became famous far and wide, known to everyone. The court summoned him repeatedly, and he declined each time, until at last he had no choice but to enter the capital. When Emperor Gaozong met him, he did not require him to bow according to the rites for a subject. Master Ye stood silently, saying nothing, and only breathed heavily. The emperor asked, “Are you ill?” He replied, “My illness lies in the court and the marketplaces; the way to treat it lies in the mountains and forests. I wish to withdraw into seclusion.”

The emperor said, “Here truly is a man who lives in seclusion.” He then issued an edict appointing Master Ye a High Minister, but Master Ye firmly declined the appointment. He said, “I wish to leave the household life. Please allow me to become a Daoist.” The emperor agreed and ordered him to take monastic vows at Jinglong Abbey. Master Ye was often kept at court, where the emperor asked him about the Daoist arts. He was able to investigate their fundamental principles, and he could also foresee good and ill fortune, good and evil; everything he said came true.

When Hei He rebelled, the emperor was anxious and afraid, unsure how to respond. He asked Master Ye, “What means should we use to dispel disaster and save the people?” Master Ye replied, “This is only a small band of bandits; there is no need for concern.” He then performed a talismanic rite and summoned tens of thousands of celestial troops, who darkened the sky. Wielding their weapons, the troops fought the rebels and drove them scattering in every direction. The emperor said, “The state’s protection is entirely due to the Master’s efforts.” The emperor repeatedly offered him gifts, but Master Ye declined them all, saying, “This is the work of Heaven’s Way and the spirits. What has it to do with me?”

At that time, the daughter of the Vice Director of the Secretariat was tormented by a fox spirit. Her mind was confused, her behavior wild, and she spoke words that sounded like those of ghosts and spirits. Whenever she saw a monk arrive riding a gray mule, her illness would flare up. The emperor therefore ordered Master Ye to treat her.

The Perfected One wished to display his miraculous powers. He said to the Gentleman Attendant, “This poor Daoist has practiced fasting from the grains for a long time, and my body has grown weak and feeble. I hope to eat a hearty meal; once I have eaten, I will take care of your request.” The Gentleman Attendant immediately sent his household to prepare a vegetarian meal. The Perfected One ate a hu of rice and three shuo of dishes in one sitting, along with more melons, fruits, and vegetables than anyone could count. Everyone was astonished, but the Perfected One said he was still not full.

Before the ritual began, a monk arrived riding a mule. He stared at the Perfected One for a while, then turned and fled. The Perfected One ordered his attendants to pursue him. From far away, the monk cried out in fear. The Perfected One gave a loud shout, and the monk turned into a fox while the mule became a dog. After questioning them, the group learned that their lair was in an ancient tomb south of the city. They went there and dug it up, finding about a hundred foxes, along with gold and silver and scattered bolts of fine silk. They also found three volumes of plain-text books listing the wild foxes’ titles, genealogies, official ranks, and names. The Perfected One then wrote talismans and burned them, and all the foxes vanished. Afterward, everyone in the city who had been ill recovered.

The emperor, Empress Gaozong, the princes and princesses, and court officials all personally received Daoist teachings. Thousands of people in all—sons of officials, Daoists from the capital and the provinces—came to study scriptures and teachings under the Perfected One. The wealth donated by princes and nobles piled up along the roads, so he used it to repair Daoist temples, adorn divine images, and aid the poor. Each day he cooked more than ten shuo of rice for the sick and impoverished, helping everyone who came without distinction.

The Perfected One was always intent on offering frank counsel, assisting the state, and preserving it. When Gaozong planned to perform the Fengshan rites—ancient imperial ceremonies to worship Heaven and Earth at sacred mountains such as Mount Tai—and traveled to Mount Song, a plague suddenly broke out, and many in his retinue died. Gaozong ordered the Perfected One to find a cure. After he recited incantations, the plague subsided, and even those close to death regained consciousness. The emperor personally issued an edict appointing him Director of the Palace Secretariat, but the Perfected One declined once again and did not accept the post.

At the time, the Ming Zhengjian enshrined in the palace often sent underworld officials to the Celestial Bureau to investigate matters. They would soon return with reports of good and evil, never once missing the deadline. The emperor ordered Perfected Ye to secretly use his arts to stop this. When the Ming Zhengjian was questioned afterward, he knew nothing. Several days later, he said that the people he had sent had not returned. The emperor told Perfected Ye to undo the spell. The Ming Zhengjian explained that the envoys had been sent by Master Ye to guard the Gate of Heaven and could not ascend to deliver their reports.

The emperor then secretly had a pit dug in the ground and musicians concealed inside it to play music. He told Perfected Ye that sounds were coming from beneath the earth for no apparent reason and asked him to perform a rite to dispel them. The Perfected wrote four talismans and pinned them to the ground, whereupon the music stopped. Each day, the emperor sent someone to ask the musicians in the pit why they were no longer playing. They replied that they had seen a great serpent on each side, each as thick as a pillar, its mouth open as if to bite them. They were so frightened that they dared not move.

A drought was underway at the time, and the emperor ordered the Perfected to pray for rain by the river. The Perfected told everyone accompanying him to bring raincoats and umbrellas, showing that they did not believe rain would fall. As soon as the prayers ended, rain began to fall, and mist and raindrops dampened the clothes and hats of both people and horses.

One day, the Perfected asked the emperor to leave his bedchamber for a while to avoid disaster. At first the emperor did not believe him, but after the Perfected urged him repeatedly, he moved away. Soon a fierce storm broke out, with thunder and lightning. A thunderbolt struck precisely where the emperor’s bedchamber stood, shaking the ground and splitting apart the armored canopy set up to shelter his sleeping quarters. The emperor was deeply shaken. The Perfected had many other miraculous deeds, too numerous to record here.

Although the Perfected came and went from the palace, assisted in state affairs, and helped the country, he kept his name and whereabouts concealed and adapted himself to others, while remaining inwardly devoted to the path of the immortals and intent on cultivating himself to ascend. He asked to resign from office and return to the mountains, and the emperor granted his request. After returning to Maoshan, he traveled back and forth to Gusu, Dongting, Tianmu, Tiantai, and Kuocang. He cultivated himself and refined elixirs on Maoshan, making his ritual visits on schedule and never neglecting them.

Suddenly, on the first day of the fifth month, an old man came to the gate, weeping and begging for help. The Perfected One, Master Ye, brought him inside and asked what had happened.

“I am the Dragon of the Eastern Sea,” the old man said. “By the command of the Lord on High, I oversee the treasures of the Eight Seas. My term of service changes once every thousand years. Anyone who completes the term without fault may ascend to immortality. I have served for nine hundred and seventy years, and my merit is nearly complete. But a Brahmin—a religious practitioner from ancient India—has been performing illusions by the seashore and chanting spells day and night. He has continued for twenty years, and his magic is about to take effect. The sea is surging like clouds and rising toward the horizon. On the fifth day of the fifth month, a treasure that commands the heavens and guards the sea will appear in the waters. This illusionist monk is sure to seize it. I beg you now to save me.”

The Perfected One agreed. At noon on the fifth day, he activated a cinnabar talisman for spellcasting and sent it flying. The sea returned to normal. The foreign monk, ashamed and sighing, threw himself into the sea and died.

The following day, the old man brought many rare treasures in gratitude. The Perfected One declined them, saying, “The mountain where I live is far from water. If I could have a spring here, that alone would be a kindness.”

That day, wind and rain swept through. At dawn, a clear spring appeared beside the mountain lodge, flowing out through a stone channel. It never runs dry, even during prolonged drought, and is still called the Celestial Master’s Channel. The place lies below Mount Siming and east of Mount Tiantai. At every place where the Perfected One had lived, an altar was established and a well dug.

The first mountain retreat was built on the summit of Mount Mao. It was later given the name Palace of Communication with Heaven, and in the third year of the Dazhong Xiangfu era (1010), it was renamed the Temple of Longevity and Prosperity. To the northwest of the temple is a well where elixirs were refined. At the foot of the mountain is a sacred spring, beside which stands a kitchen for preparing offerings for Daoist purification rituals and sacrificial ceremonies, where local people prayed. In the first year of the Zhiping era (1064), the temple was given the name Temple of Longevity and Holiness; it is now called the Temple of Extensive Blessings.

The Perfected One once went to Qingxi. It was the height of summer, so he and a Daoist priest went to enjoy themselves by the stream.

The Perfected One suddenly sank beneath the water and did not return for seven days. The Daoists traveling with him were alarmed and afraid, believing he had been swallowed by a flood dragon. They went back and told his family and disciples. Daoists and laypeople nearby also searched along the stream. After seven days, the Perfected One suddenly appeared at the place where they had been swimming. He said, “You must have been very worried. I went for a time to Penglai with the River Earl, the river god. Just then, several immortals were gathering, and they asked me to stay a little while. I thought you would be concerned, so I hurried back. And, as I see, you were.”

The Perfected One then went to Mount Tiantai to seek out Master Sima Lian, a Daoist cultivator surnamed Sima, and explore the immortal realm where long life could be attained. Leaving Tongwu, he entered the numinous valley and said to Master Sima Lian, “This is a fine time of year: thick, towering pines cast their shade, and lush, soft grass is a place to sit or lie down.” Later, he climbed to the summit of Huading Peak and gazed at the clouds over the sea. “Penglai is not far from here,” he said. “We may well return there someday.” Master Sima Lian carried a zither, and the Perfected One held a sword. Together they crossed the stone bridge and came to the banks of the clear stream. Standing against cliffs that plunged ten thousand feet, they crossed perilous ground and passed through dangerous places. What was there to fear as they stood with hands on the stone face of Emerald Screen Peak?

In the xinchou year, Wu Zetian summoned the Perfected One to cast a dragon—a ritual in which a dragon-shaped object was placed in water to entreat the spirits—and gather herbs, and to conduct prayers at famous mountains and great rivers. The imperial procession and carriage traveled back and forth without end. Later, during Emperor Zhongzong’s reign, Wu Sansi still held power at court, and people at the time often heeded slanderous accusations. The Perfected One repeatedly offered calm remonstrances. The emperor issued an order banishing him to Lingnan. His disciples looked troubled, but the Perfected One said, “Fortune has its rises and falls. Withdrawal and prominence naturally change with the times.”

He then traveled onward to Mount Heng, then to Lianzhou, and after that to Guangzhou. Hundreds of li remained before Guangzhou, but the land route was impassable, so they had to travel by boat. The Perfected One planned to gather herbs in Guangzhou and first sent a disciple by boat to the prefectural seat. When the Daoists at Yitang Abbey heard that the Perfected One was on his way, they hurried to report it to Governor Hu Yuanli.

The Daoist priest of Yitang Abbey heard that the Perfected One was coming and hurried to report it to Governor Hu Yuanli. Hu then went with Daoist priests, Buddhist monks and nuns, and officials from the prefecture and county to wait for him by the river. Before long, they saw the Perfected One riding a white horse across the surface of the water. After coming ashore, he exchanged greetings with the assembled people and was then escorted to Longxing Abbey.

Many people, from the governor and his deputy to local officials and ordinary residents, received the Perfected One’s transmission of the Daoist teachings. Many offered him gardens, farmland, and houses. He declined them all and donated them to Daoist abbeys as permanent property.

Later, by imperial command, the Perfected One was transferred back to Hongzhou. He stayed at Zonghua Abbey and took his disciples to the place in the Western Mountains where Master Hongya had cultivated the Dao. There they lived and practiced for three years, studying the Shangqing esoteric methods of solitary cultivation.

On the sixth night of the third month in the xinhai year of Jinglong 4—which, according to the chronological records, should have been the xinhai year of Jingyun 2—a disciple dreamed that an immortal arrived with a crane. When he asked who the immortal was, the immortal replied, “I am a person of this world; I do not give my name.” Then he pointed to the disciple and said, “You are fortunate to have taken as your master this Left Palace Immortal Official, a Daoist celestial office. The Celestial Emperor is about to summon him, and news will come soon.” The crane the immortal had brought looked all around, circling and dancing.

When the disciple awoke, he told the Perfected One about the dream. The Perfected One said, “Did you dream this? It is an auspicious sign. I already know.”

At noon on the ninth day, auspicious clouds, immortal music, and a rich fragrance drifted down from the sky and entered the room from afar. The disciple recognized the visitor as the immortal he had seen in his dream. The immortal said to the Perfected One, “Do you still recognize me?” The Perfected One replied, “Day and night I long for your true countenance, as one thirsts and hungers for food and drink. Awake or asleep, I often imagine you serving at my side. How could I fail to recognize you?” Then he bowed and prostrated himself twice.

The immortal said, “Your merit in cultivation is nearly complete; you should work all the harder. The higher one’s attainment in the Dao, the more one faces trials from demons, so you must be especially cautious. The Most High has ordered me to deliver to you in advance the Golden Essence Elixir of Transformation and Bone Transmutation, an immortal medicine said to transform the body and renew its bones. The time is not yet right, so you must not take it immediately. Keep it hidden.”

The divine being said, “When August comes, you should enter the capital and assist the reigning emperor, as well as the ruler who will later ascend the throne and take the title Emperor Shenwu. Teach them the Daoist arts and eliminate the chief instigator. The times are difficult now, and the True Dragon is about to rise. You should support the state, bring peace to the famous mountains and great peaks, and perform a Dragon-Offering Jiao rite—a Daoist prayer ritual in which dragon-shaped offerings are cast into the water. You will be responsible for all these matters, and Heaven’s protection will be yours when the time comes. You will also enjoy worldly honors and emoluments, hold a broad fief, occupy a fitting position at court, and be followed by the people like a shadow.”

“In the year of Quail Tail, in the month of Quail Fire, at noon on the third day, the attendant immortal of the Western Peak—an immortal official of Mount Hua—will once again confer upon you the rank of Transcendent Official of the Left Palace of Purple Tenuity in the Taiji.”

When the divine being had finished speaking, the Perfected One bowed in thanks and said, “My talents are meager, yet I have received such favor. If these words should truly come to pass, I would be like a tiny insect trying to carry a mountain on its back; I am wholly unworthy of such a heavy responsibility. Even if I were reduced to dust and bones, I could not repay you.” He bowed again and took his leave.

When August arrived, an imperial edict indeed declared, “The Daoist Master Ye is to enter the capital. If he has disciples, they may accompany him.” After receiving the summons, the Perfected One traveled to the capital by post station carriage. He was received by the emperor and thereafter often remained in the palace. At that time Xuanzong was still living in the residence of a princely lord, and he and the Perfected One spent time together. When the Perfected One performed a Zhang Jiao rite, a dragon appeared before the altar, and most of the things he prayed for came to pass. He once prayed for snow, and it fell to a depth of a foot; he also prayed for rain, mist, and frost.

The Perfected One once set up an altar on Mount Lu. A spring welled up through the ground at one corner of the altar; its water was sweet, and immortal cranes and herbs appeared as well. On another occasion, he performed a Jiao rite at the residence of Master Xu, and two yellow dragons emerged from a well.

The Perfected One assisted Xuanzong in praying for rain in Di Prefecture, and his prayer was answered. He also foresaw that Lady Wei would rebel and had already reported to Xuanzong a prophecy concerning the era name Xiantian; each part of it later came true. Xuanzong once asked the Perfected One about affairs of state. The Perfected One replied privately, “Long ago, I met a divine being who said that there would be an emperor whose era name would be Kaiyuan.” The Perfected One could also foresee all those involved in plots against the throne. Xuanzong later ascended the throne, changed the era name to Kaiyuan, and took the title Emperor Shenwu.

While serving the emperor, the Perfected One consistently offered sound advice, corrected what was improper, and supported him discreetly. When speaking privately about affairs of state, the Perfected One again said, “Long ago, I met a divine being who said that there would be an emperor whose era name would be Kaiyuan.”

Whenever anyone plotted rebellion, Perfected Ye could foresee it. After Emperor Xuanzong ascended the throne, changed the era name to Kaiyuan, and adopted the honorific title Divine Martial Emperor, the Perfected One often stayed at his side, offering counsel and quietly assisting him. He dispelled calamities and subdued baleful forces; his wondrous powers were famed far and wide.

Chancellor Yao Chong’s daughter had died, and he missed her deeply. The Perfected One cast down a talisman, and she came back to life. After Zhang Wei’s wife died, she transformed into another being and resumed her life as his wife. When the Perfected One learned of this, he said, “This is a corpse-spirit affliction, an evil illness in which a corpse haunts and bewitches the living. If it is not dealt with at once, Zhang Wei will surely die.” He cast down a talisman, and the creature turned into a stream of black vapor and vanished.

A gigantic shen, a legendary water demon, lived in the Qiantang River and often sank boats, causing great harm to those who traveled through the area. Shen Yu, the head of Qingsha Town, came in person to invite the Perfected One, who then went there. When the tide came in, he subdued the giant shen with an iron talisman and a talisman inscribed in cinnabar. From then on, no such calamity occurred again. The Perfected One also carved the words “Dao at Peace” into a rock with his sword, each character about three zhang square. The marks are still there today. The mountain is called Sanjiaomen.

When Xuanzong moved to Shangyang Palace to watch the lanterns, Mao Yixin, a craftsman from the Imperial Workshops, had built more than thirty ornate towers, decorated with gold, jade, and jewels. They stood over a hundred zhang high. A light breeze made the ornaments ring out clearly, while the lanterns were arranged to look like dragons leaping and flying. Their craftsmanship seemed beyond human skill, and Xuanzong was delighted. He hurriedly sent for the Perfected One and asked him to admire the display from below. The Perfected One said, “The lantern display here is indeed without equal. Yet tonight the lanterns in the Western Grotto Abode, where immortals dwell, are no less splendid. These lanterns are simply too extravagant and do the state no good.”

Xuanzong found this astonishing and wanted to test the Perfected One’s immortal arts. “I would like to go there and see for myself. Can I?” he asked. The Perfected One replied, “That would be easy enough, but it would hardly be fitting for Your Majesty to travel so far just to see lanterns.” Xuanzong insisted. The Perfected One asked him to close his eyes, then carried him through the air. In a moment they had arrived. The Perfected One traded the ruyi he carried, a Daoist ritual object, for wine. When it was time to return, he again asked Xuanzong to close his eyes. Before long, the two were back beneath the towers, while the palace music and dancing had not yet ended. Later, Xuanzong sent a palace messenger to Dongzhou on the pretext of attending to other business, to retrieve the ruyi and verify the account. He found that the Perfected One had spoken the truth.

Soon after the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Perfected Ye arrived. Using the ruyi scepter he carried with him, he conjured wine and offered it to everyone. When it was time to return, he asked the emperor to close his eyes. In an instant, the two were downstairs, though the singing and dancing upstairs had not yet ended.

Later, the emperor sent a eunuch to the frozen region on a pretext, taking the ruyi scepter there so he could retrieve and examine it. This confirmed that it was no illusion. On the night of the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Perfected Ye accompanied the emperor on a tour of the Moon Palace, where the emperor listened to celestial music. When he asked the name of the piece, Perfected Ye replied, “Purple Clouds.” The emperor had long been well versed in music. He memorized the melody and, on his return, wrote it down, entered it in the Music Bureau, and gave it the new title “Rainbow Skirts and Feathered Robes.”

On their way back from the Moon Palace, the two passed over Tengzhou and looked down at the city. Its walls rose high, and the moonlight shone as brightly as daylight. Perfected Ye asked the emperor to play a tune on his jade flute. The flute was still in the sleeping quarters, so Perfected Ye sent a spirit to fetch it. It was brought back moments later. After the emperor had finished playing, Perfected Ye tossed gold coins into the city and then returned to the palace. Ten days later, Jizhou reported that celestial music had descended upon the city on the night of the fifteenth day of the eighth month. Gold coins had also been found and presented to the court.

The emperor repeatedly tested Perfected Ye’s Dao arts in the presence of his close attendants, and each time the results proved no illusion. Stories of his other wondrous feats—vanishing inside a pillar, transforming into a crane in midair, pursuing the spirit of a mountain, and summoning wind and rain—were too numerous to tell.

It happened that Tibet sent an envoy bearing a sealed treasure casket. He claimed that the emperor must open it himself and that no one else should learn its secret. The court fell silent, but Perfected Ye alone said, “This is a dangerous object. The Tibetan envoy should open it himself.” When the casket was opened, a crossbow bolt shot out and struck the envoy, killing him on the spot. Both startled and shaken, the emperor treated Perfected Ye with even greater courtesy and respect.

In the eighth month of the second year of the Xiantian era (713), the court bestowed on Perfected Ye the honorary titles of Grand Master of Splendid Happiness with Golden and Purple Insignia, Minister of State Ceremonies, Duke of Yue, and others. Perfected Ye declined three times, but the emperor would not accept his refusals. The edict stated, in essence: “The Daoist Ye Fashan is upright in character and deeply learned in the mysteries. He can foresee calamities before they arise and serves the court with loyalty. He should be honored with these appointments to recognize his merit. He is permitted to retain his status as a Daoist and continue wearing Daoist robes. The titles listed above are hereby bestowed upon him.”

After Master Ye was appointed Grand Master for Splendid Happiness with the Golden Seal and Purple Ribbon, Minister of the Court of State Ceremonies, Duke of Yue, and concurrently abbot of Jinglong Temple, he repeatedly declined these honors but was not permitted to do so. He then asked that the court’s rewards be transferred to his late father and donated his former residence at the mountain gate of Mount Kuocang, requesting that the court establish Xuanyang Temple there. The offerings and precious treasures used at the ritual site, along with the wealth bestowed on him by the court, were all placed at the mountain gate. Xuanyang Temple stood in Xuanci Township, Lishui County, and was later renamed Chongzhen Temple. The court posthumously awarded Master Ye’s father the title Grand Master for Silver and Blue Brilliance and Governor of Shezhou, with authority held by imperial commission.

He also asked to convert his ancestral home southwest of Mount Maoshan into a Daoist temple. The court named it Chunhe Temple. It stood in Rishi, Songyang County, and was later renamed Yongning Temple. Master Ye then asked to return to the mountains to pay respects and tend the graves at two burial sites, in Lishui and Songyang. Beside the graves, he piled earth, planted trees, and erected commemorative steles. He asked Li Yong to compose the epitaphs and Han Zemu to write them out, so that the inscriptions would be remembered by later generations. Master Ye’s own tomb lies beside Chongzhen Temple.

Master Ye’s grandfather, Guozhong, was buried on Mount You in Songyang County. A stone rooster on the mountain was said to crow, so Master Ye established a Daoist retreat there, later called Tianzhen Retreat, and erected a stele within it. He asked Li Yong to compose and personally write the inscription, but Li Yong initially refused. That night, Master Ye sent a spirit-being to seize Li Yong’s soul and make him compose the inscription. He then showed the carved stele to Li Yong. Li Yong laughed and said, “At first I thought I was dreaming. I never expected it to be true.”

Master Ye first found the stele stone by the sea and sent spirit-beings to transport it back overnight. The water deity, unaware of what was happening, accidentally struck the stone and split it. Master Ye cast a talisman and performed a ritual to deal with the matter. After the water deity pleaded for mercy, it was spared punishment. He joined the broken pieces with glue, so traces of the fracture can still be seen on the stele. After Master Ye piled earth, planted trees, and erected the stele to make offerings, the local springs and rocks seemed to shine more brightly, and the people of the region celebrated.

In the spring, the third month of the fifth year of Kaiyuan (717), a Ding-si year, Master Ye bid farewell to the people of his native village, saying, “Parting is easy, but meeting again is difficult. Once I leave this time, I fear we will never meet again.” Those around him were deeply saddened.

At the farewell, Daoist priests and laypeople alike wept. The road was packed with carriages and horses, and men and women, young and old, came in an unending stream, all grieving and crying. Perfected Ye said again, “Next year I will send a messenger back. You may wait here for him. Once the messenger arrives, I too will return before long.”

On the twenty-seventh day of the first month the following year, several hundred black cranes suddenly flew in formation from the north and gathered above Ou Creek, circling there for three days. Clouds of five colors appeared overhead at the same time. After three days, the cranes and clouds vanished without a trace. The villagers were astonished that his words had indeed come true, but could not fathom why.

In the fifth month of the eighth year of the Kaiyuan era, the Perfected was already 107 years old. At Jinglong Abbey in the Western Capital, he claimed to be ill and secretly took a divine elixir, a legendary medicine of immortality. Celestial immortals came and went without pause, their retinues and carriages passing day and night. His disciples, princes and princesses, palace messengers, and court officials came and went, yet none noticed these sights. Only his disciples Junqing, Lu Qiwu, and the others saw them with their own eyes, but kept silent.

At midday on the third day of the sixth month, the jia-shen day, the Perfected departed by means of the “sword transformed into a corpse” method. A cloud carriage came to the gate, and music from the heavens surrounded the entrance. Colored clouds swirled, fragrance spread in every direction, and the welcoming attendants then departed. Everyone in the capital saw a column of blue smoke rise from the abbey, shoot straight into the sky, and reach the heavens. It remained there all day without dispersing.

Beside his seat, the Perfected left three poems:

“I once dwelt in Yu-yu Heaven, the realm of immortals spoken of in Daoism; later I returned to the abode of the Most High, a revered Daoist deity. Favored with a divine command, I took charge of the registers of immortals, traveling back and forth upon clouds and rosy mists. For a time I descended to the city of Wanli, my heart yearning from afar for Jinhua. I will not remain long in the human world. I shall mount my fragrant cloud carriage and ascend to heaven.”

“I once came to inquire about affairs in the world, and often gave aid to the people. My task of transforming the people has been completed, and my work in serving the state has also been accomplished. I am simply attached to the joys of Qingwei, the tranquil celestial realm spoken of in Daoism—but who could bear to give up the splendor of the human world? My disciples, remain here in peace. This is not a place where I will stay long. I shall mount my fragrant cloud carriage and ascend to heaven.”

At a time when the age needed capable people, he often came to the people’s aid. His initial work of guiding others to salvation was complete, as was his service to the state. He cherished only the joy of Qingwei, the pure and lofty realm of the immortals; what concern did he have for worldly honors and riches? “Disciples, remain here in peace. I shall ascend to Heaven in the clouds, at ease.” After withdrawing to the immortal realm, he kept far from the dust of the world for many years and took pride in this. Now he ascends through the clouds, returns to his original nature, and wanders through Shangqing, the Daoist realm of the immortals. He left his Niwan, the crown of his head, as proof of his presence in the human world. His flight into the sky was not in pursuit of fame. Through this, he informs those who seek immortality: “I am going to pay my respects at Yujing, the legendary dwelling of the Heavenly Emperor.”

He also left a letter instructing his disciple Zhongrong: “Present my poems and letters to the throne, but do not use them to seek an official post. Follow the imperial decree in arranging my funeral, then take me back to Kuocang for burial. More than 160 years after I leave, a remarkable person will appear on Mount Mao, surpassing me. Whoever practices cultivation at my former dwelling will be that person.”

The Perfected One had once hidden a sword elixir beneath a great boulder on Mount Mao. Later, Feng Qushe practiced cultivation there, obtained the sword elixir, and departed as an immortal. Today, the mountain produces immortal mugwort and a mineral called nameless stone; both are said to have formed when elixirs fell from heaven into the human world. After the Perfected One ascended to Heaven, his disciples found poems and letters where he had once sat in meditation and presented them to the emperor. Deeply moved, the emperor went in person to the place where the body lay and suspended court for three days. From the princes and nobles down, all the officials and court attendants mourned him. The next day, the court posthumously appointed him Governor-General of Yuezhou. On the sixteenth day, the emperor ordered a portrait of the Perfected One to be painted after an image kept in the palace, then personally composed this eulogy:

“His literary grace flows like a river; his principles blossom like a garden. He possesses a true breath of another kind, and clouds rise above Qingxi because of him. He stands apart, beyond compare; free and unbound, he transcends the world. Youyouzi—the Daoist Lord Feng.”

Emperor Suzong wrote another eulogy:

“His noble bearing stands proud and bold, carefree and self-possessed. He withdraws, then rises, parting the clouds of mist; he rides the rainbow and commands the carp. He achieves merit without boasting, and acts without claiming credit. He travels on the wind, light and at ease, keeping company with all things, constant to the end.”

Another imperial edict, whose full text is preserved in the preface to Xuanzhi by He Zhizhang, conferred a posthumous title on the Perfected One’s disciple, Sima Zhongrong, appointing him a Daoist priest of the Shengzhen Abbey in the eastern capital. An imperial envoy was also dispatched to escort the coffin and bury it beside Xuanyang Abbey. Officials of every rank, down to the princes and dukes, gathered outside the capital’s Qing Gate to see him off. The entire city wore mourning clothes, and everyone clung to one another, wailing in unbearable grief.

By the time the coffin returned to Yangzhou, miraculous reports about the Perfected One had already reached the region. Hundreds of white cranes flew above his burial place in the Grotto Heaven of Kuocang, while clouds of five auspicious colors circled overhead for several days. When the funeral carriage arrived, officials and commoners from Qu, Zi, and Hang prefectures, who had come by imperial order to assist with the burial, joined Daoist priests, Buddhist monks, and men and women from the populace. They streamed back and forth like people in a busy marketplace. Thousands of disciples wept without pause; birds gathered in flocks, crying mournfully. Crowds converged from every direction, the sky seemed to change color, and the sun lost its radiance.

One year after the burial, the coffin opened of its own accord. Inside, only his clothes, cap, and sword remained. Only then did people realize that the Perfected One had not died, but had ascended lightly to become an immortal. The emperor cherished his memory and longed for his immortal bearing. He ordered a stele erected in the abbey and wrote its inscription himself; he also ordered the Crown Prince to inscribe the plaque. In the sixth year of Zhenghe in our dynasty, the Perfected One was specially granted the title “Master of Attaining Emptiness and Manifesting Simplicity.” In the second year of Xuanhe, he was further granted the title “Perfected One of Numinosity, Emptiness, Manifestation, and Simplicity.” The imperial decrees are kept at Chongzhen Abbey in Lishui.

What follows is a collection of Li Yong’s stele inscription, together with the memorials, imperial replies, edicts, decrees, and genealogy from the periods before and after the Perfected One.

The Perfected One’s Memorial Requesting Permission to Return Home

Your servant, a Daoist priest, respectfully submits: I am a countryman from the lands between the rivers and sea, and have always lacked …

Your servant, a Daoist of humble origin, submits this memorial. I have made my home among the rivers, seas, mountains, and wilderness, and have never possessed much Daoist attainment. In ordinary life I drink from mountain streams and eat wild fruit, enduring a plain and austere existence. It happened that the enlightened court revered Daoism and greatly advanced the teachings of the Profound Gate. I was thus able to receive the emperor’s favor and serve the court through five reigns, giving my whole heart and loyalty. If I can be of any benefit to the state, I would have no regret even if I were to die ten thousand deaths.

It happened that the sacred court once more brought peace to the realm, allowing the people and all things to recover their vitality. Every creature with awareness was thereby enlightened and revived. Your Majesty did not disdain someone as lowly as I, but summoned me back to court. Though ignorant and shallow, I received your profound favor: I was temporarily appointed to the Office of Thorns, which oversees criminal justice and related affairs, and was also granted a fief. Your honors extended across the land, and your grace even reached those beneath the earth. Yet how could I possibly deserve such generosity? Even if I were reduced to dust and my head shattered, I could never repay it.

Some years ago, Your Majesty graciously permitted me to return to my native place and granted me a title. I was able, with what little life remained to me, to pay respects at my ancestors’ graves and reunite with my clan, overwhelmed by both grief and joy. An elderly relative, then one hundred and three years old, was both glad and sorrowful to see me return home. Just over ten days later, the relative suddenly passed away. Life and death follow their appointed course; this is indeed the way of things. But with the bonds of kinship between us, how could I feel no grief? The illnesses that had accumulated over many years also flared up all at once. My body had grown so frail that I could scarcely endure a long journey.

I reverently carried out Your Majesty’s decree and went to present the Dragon Jade, a ritual object used in Daoist offerings to invoke Heaven and Earth. By proper custom, I should have returned to report once my task was complete. My heart remained attached to the court, and I wanted to hurry to the capital, but I was ill in my home region south of the Yangtze, and lacked the strength to travel. I left the south at the end of winter the year before last and did not reach Dongdu, the eastern capital at Luoyang, until early summer last year. I was already like a departed spirit, with only faltering steps left to me; the hardship is truly beyond words. Now my body is withered and my mind and spirit are also weakened by illness. To remain on the rolls of office is plainly unsuitable.

The purple sash and golden seal are the highest honors a subject can receive. Such favor should not be bestowed unless someone has rendered outstanding service worthy of being passed down through generations. Moreover, the substance of the Dao is profound and subtle, beyond the sight of the eye and the hearing of the ear. The office and honors I have received are beyond what I deserve, and their retention harms the proper order of the state. I beg Your Majesty to show compassion for what remains of my life and allow me to return to my native place, where I may be laid to rest. Then I can live out my remaining years in peace and remain mindful of Your Majesty’s boundless grace. As I now prepare to leave the court, my heart is reluctant to part. With the utmost sincerity, I respectfully submit this memorial before the throne.

Your servant is terrified and trembles, deserving death, deserving death. I respectfully submit this memorial.

On the twenty-first day of the second month of the fourth year of Kaiyuan, Ye, a minister of the Court of State Ceremonial, a supernumerary official and Duke of Yue, and abbot of Jinglong Abbey, submits this memorial.

The emperor’s reply: I have read your memorial. The Daoist master is an emblem of the celestial realm and a pillar of the Profound Gate. Although in recent years you have been bound up in worldly affairs, your spirit has remained free of the entanglements of the material world. I had intended for you to receive the essential teachings of the Three Pure Ones and to proclaim the way of harmonizing the Six Qi, thereby helping me govern the state. The meaning of Guangqing lies precisely in the many profound principles it contains. Though you wish to withdraw to the rivers and seas, this request is difficult to grant. You should immediately cease submitting memorials seeking resignation and deeply consider my intentions.

Your servant, a Daoist priest, respectfully submits: On the twentieth day of the second month, while ill, I set out my plea and made a special request to return home to repair my ancestors’ graves while my final breath still remained. But Heaven did not grant my request, and I had nowhere to turn. Then my old illness returned, and the little life left in me became as fragile as a thread. Before I could take leave of the enlightened court, I was nearly counted among the dead. Fortunately, Heaven sheltered me and did not let me die at once; by Your Majesty’s grace, my life was prolonged, allowing me to fulfill this small wish.

Earlier, I received the emperor’s edict granting me leave to return to my native place. I treasured the edict bestowed by the emperor and traveled over mountains and across rivers, hurrying day and night to carry out the imperial command with reverence. By the time I reached home, the weather had turned bitterly cold. The region had suffered poor harvests for several years in succession. The people had fled and scattered, and even my relatives were going hungry. There was truly no way to attend to ceremony and human obligations. I wished to erect a stele for my ancestors, but could not fulfill that wish. The stone remained in Suzhou and could not be transported to my native place. My heart burned with worry, and I wept in grief, feeling that each day lasted a year. If I cannot fulfill this wish, I will die unable to rest in peace.

I humbly beseech Your Majesty, whose vast benevolence shelters and nurtures all things, allowing even insects and other living beings to follow their nature. The teaching by which Your Majesty governs the world through filial piety also extends to all living beings. I am now little more than skin and bones, and my life is like a lamp flickering in the wind. I beg Your Majesty to grant me leave to fulfill my wish while my final breath still remains. If I hear that Your Majesty has granted my request, I will have no regrets even in the Yellow Springs.

I am about to leave the place where the Son of Heaven resides, but illness has detained me amid the rivers and lakes. Confined to my bed, I pour out what is in my heart; my grief and longing are beyond what words can express. I respectfully submit this report to the court. I am filled with fear and unease, and deserve a thousand deaths. Respectfully submitted.

On the twenty-third day of the second month in the fourth year of Kaiyuan, your servant, of the rank indicated above, submits this memorial.

The emperor’s reply: I have read the memorial and understand the matter. The revered master possesses many wondrous virtues, and his practice surpasses that of the immortals living in remote places. Through his subtle and mysterious cultivation, he has preserved his true and tranquil integrity and can also help transform the people. Yet his wish to return home is deeply sincere, and even while ill he still longs to go. He has submitted one memorial after another, and his words and feelings have grown ever more earnest. I now grant his request, as he has asked, so that his wish may be fulfilled.

The Perfected One asked that the rank bestowed on him by the emperor be transferred to his late father. In his memorial, he explained that this was meant to repay his parents for raising him.

The Perfected One memorialized the throne:

Your servant has heard that filial piety is the foremost principle of human conduct. For this reason, Heaven and Earth offer protection in response to it through auspicious signs, and the spirits likewise respond. Even the broad and generous earth has revealed a sign: fish in a river voluntarily offered themselves as food to a filial son. Such events show that filial devotion can move the spirits and bring Heaven and Earth into accord.

Your Majesty’s filial piety accords with Heaven and Earth. Your virtue is complete and resonates with the spirits. The sacred fungi that appeared in Qi Commandery and the sweet dew that descended upon the imperial mausoleums are auspicious signs brought forth by the resonance of Your Majesty’s filial devotion. Since Your Majesty’s filial piety benefits your family, it should also extend to all things. Your servant has had the good fortune to live in an age that honors filial piety and to witness these auspicious signs. Yet he has rendered no service to the court, and has merely received, without deserving them, the stipends and favors bestowed by Your Majesty.

Your servant holds the office of one of the Nine Ministers, and the favor he has received is as deep and vast as rivers and seas. He has also been granted a rank among the Five Orders of Nobility, its dignity seeming to match the stars. Yet your servant is old and frail, and death is not far off. He was unable, in the end, to repay the labor of the parents who raised him; the kindness Your Majesty has shown him, meanwhile, weighs upon him like a mountain. Though your servant is an insignificant man, he cannot be without a heart that seeks to repay kindness. Ever since entering the ranks of the court, he has been anxious day and night: while alive, he has done nothing to benefit this enlightened age, and he fears that after death he will be even more deeply in its debt.

Yet your servant still has one wish born of family affection: he asks that the rank Your Majesty bestowed upon him be transferred to his late father. In this way, he may uphold Your Majesty’s tradition of honoring filial piety above, and entrust below his boundless longing for his father. If this sorrowful wish can be fulfilled, your servant will count himself fortunate beyond measure, even in death.

Your servant is now an old man, with skin like a chicken’s and hair like a crane’s, his body weakened and only a breath of life remaining. He may pass away at any moment. Last winter, when he took leave of the court, he set out while ill. Only through Your Majesty’s protection was he able to preserve his life. He was therefore overjoyed to meet the emperor once more and ascend the vermilion steps of the court. Now, while he still has some strength, he earnestly sets forth his wish: your servant asks to return to the treasury the generous stipends and possessions Your Majesty has granted him. As for his office and title, he asks that they be bestowed upon his late father, so that his father may receive honor and favor even in the depths below. Then the whole family will be filled with gratitude; the living and the dead alike will feel deeply fortunate. Their gratitude is truly beyond words.

Your servant humbly begs Your Majesty’s compassionate approval. Your kindness in granting him a new life is something he could never repay, even if his body were shattered. Overcome with grief and earnest supplication, he respectfully submits this memorial to the court. Your servant is filled with awe and trepidation as he respectfully makes this petition.

On the twenty-third day of the second month in the fourth year of Kaiyuan, your servant, holding the office of [title], respectfully submits this memorial.

The rescript says: I have read the memorial and am fully informed of its contents. The Master’s reputation has ascended to the realm of the immortals, and his learning surpasses the essential teachings recorded in Daoist texts. He has also protected my person. I will not forget the Master’s merits and will grant him a court title and stipend. This matter was handled on the twenty-third day of a certain month. Presented by your servant, whose office is recorded above.

Another rescript says: I have read the memorial and am fully informed of its contents. The Master’s reputation has ascended to the realm of the immortals, and his learning surpasses the essential teachings recorded in Daoist texts. He has also protected my person. I will not forget the Master’s merits. This matter should be handled impartially, with careful consideration of the statements in the memorial and an understanding of the filial devotion they express. I esteem good customs and approve of this request. Yet the Master is humble and deferential, and refuses to accept, so it is truly difficult to comply. Separate arrangements will be made concerning the requested posthumous honor.

Stele Inscription for the Ancestral Line of a Perfected One

Stele Inscription and Preface for the Late Master Ye, a Man of the Dao, of the Great Tang

Written and calligraphed by Li Yong of Jiangxia.

In ancient times, the Old Lord was born with a pure and upright nature, in harmony with Heaven and Earth. The Master Shengde seemed to bear the sun and moon upon his body. In those days, those in power did not honor him, and his lord did not appoint him to office. Some characters on the stele resemble ancient forms, with different components from those used today; their pronunciations are noted separately below.

He lived in seclusion in a deep valley, hidden away among the high mountains. His tranquil bearing was free from worldly ways, and his aspirations belonged to the realm of immortals and perfected beings. Could his ambition really have been no more than to answer a summons, enter public service, and accept a noble title and official robes?

The Master’s name was Guozhong, and his courtesy name was Yazhen. He was from Ye County in Nanyang. The Ye lineage stretched far back: from Shaohao and Gaoxin, through Tao Tang and Hou Ji, to descendants of King Wen of Zhou, who were once enfeoffed in Shen. Later, the son of Yin Shu was enfeoffed in Ye, and the family took Ye as its surname. The Ye family’s enfeoffment and possession of its fief dated from a very distant past.

His grandfather, Ye Qianyu, was able to advance the family’s work and uphold De for many years. From childhood, the Master was accustomed to a secluded life. He restrained his senses and focused his spirit to cultivate his nature. He was robust in body, outstanding in talent and insight, well versed in affairs, and learned in many arts. Although the court repeatedly sent carriages to summon him, he firmly declined. In this way, the family’s good fortune continued, and he himself enjoyed a long life.

His father, Ye Daoxing, upheld the way of the Daoist temples and spread Daoist methods throughout the realm. He could command ghosts and spirits, making them obey the earthly deities; he could also marshal divine beings to carry out the ordinances of Heaven. He received Fulu (talismans and registers) and used them to command ghosts and spirits. He also wielded flying talismans to subdue evil influences and suppress demons such as wangliang. His Daoist feats at places such as Liutaitai were truly extraordinary: a stroke of his brush could make a person fall into a well, while an arrow from his bow could pierce through leather armor. He established five divisions and widely transmitted Daoist methods. His learning was vast—who could later carry on his work?

The Master inherited the teachings of the Daoist tradition, heard accounts of extraordinary events, and received instruction. In his youth, he shed the habits of ornamental display and vanity, turning instead to sincerity and solidity. He was born with the bones of an immortal, yet kept the innocent heart of a child. He devoted himself to cultivating the method of the Five Dragons and once traveled widely through the grasslands and mountains. His intelligence enabled him to know of distant events, and his discernment let him perceive the smallest details. He understood the signs of life and death and could also sense the changes in the Qi of the myriad things.

He believed that stillness could focus the spirit, while agitation would deplete it. So he withdrew from public view and went into seclusion in the mountains. Beyond the clouds, he carved out a valley and made his home in a forested realm of immortals. There, human tracks had vanished and there were no neighbors nearby; the paths were steep, dangerous, and winding.

He went alone to places of serene beauty, where for a long time he sang of the life of seclusion. At ease and self-contained, he nurtured peace in body and mind and cultivated emptiness and stillness. He fed on the marrow of the Five Stones, an immortal elixir of Daoist legend, and gathered the essence of the Three Mushrooms, celestial herbs akin to lingzhi. Time would not stand still; the years passed by. His temples remained dark and glossy as lacquer, and his face was ruddy as cinnabar.

All he did accorded with the mysterious Dao, and his spirit was in harmony with it. Serene and solitary, he went for decades without food or drink. Only then did his reputation reach the imperial court. The emperor showed him special favor, setting aside his exalted status to treat him with courtesy, and sent people with a richly adorned carriage to invite him.

From afar, the Master saw the envoys. He stood tall, bowed with clasped hands, and waved them away with courteous words: “In ancient times, Emperor Shun was appointed to office and his virtue shone brightly; after Emperor Guangwu succeeded to the throne, he too governed well. Xue Fang and Feng Meng were honored by emperors who sent patterned horses and wide-bodied carriages to invite them, yet they still refused to enter public service. Yu Zhong and Yi Yi, for their part, upheld the integrity of recluses all their lives. How could I let the dust of the world settle on me and be stained by worldly affairs? My nature is solitary and unyielding. I wish only to seek the Great Dao and follow those who share its pursuit. How could I sit and wait for the court to send envoys to summon me?”

He harbored misgivings too deep to put into words, and made clear his resolve to remain in seclusion. The envoys then inspected his dwelling and his way of life, examined his fields, and asked his household servants what they did from day to day. They saw that he lived simply, observing restraint in all things: his food had no delicacies, and he did not seek pleasing colors in his clothing. He was truly sincere and steadfast, holding to truth and casting off pretense; nothing could shake his resolve. Even if he had been willing to go, the journey would not have been difficult, but there was no way to force him to rise and leave. The envoys had no choice but to return empty-handed, ashamed and unable to hide their sighs.

Those at court admired his noble purity and longed for his Daoist arts. On hearing of his reputation, countless people yearned to meet him. At the time, officials in charge had found gaps in the documents on astronomy and calendrical science, while the system for tracking the movements of celestial bodies had fallen into disuse. The cycles of the Five Phases had been lost, and the divisions of the seasons were in error. People did not know how to interpret the portents and auspicious signs in the regions of Jing and Yue, nor did they understand the origins of calendrical terms such as Zi, Hai, Mu, and Gui. The court therefore sent envoys on repeated journeys to seek him out, hoping to consult him and receive his instruction.

It was like stretching a carpenter’s ink line taut to distinguish straight from crooked, or suspending a balance beam level to determine weight. Could a gentleman of such broad learning and knowledge exist only in tales passed down by hearsay? Alas, Heaven’s Dao cannot keep a person here forever; in the end, one must return. Old age and frailty had brought him close to a hundred, and the force of decline had worn down his lofty ambitions.

Was the life of this learned gentleman truly no more than the tale of Gui Sheng told in popular fiction? Alas, Heaven’s mandate cannot endure forever, and all people must eventually return to death. In his later years, he was nearing a hundred, yet age and hardship stood in the way of his far-reaching ambitions. He chose a burial place in a quiet valley and made his resting place among secluded woods. The reclusive scholars no longer had him to follow, and the worthy men of the state lost their guide. Springs and trees seemed to lose their luster, and officials and common people throughout the region mourned him. Was there no other talent in the world? It was his passing alone that brought such grief to everyone.

His descendant Huiming was granted the honorary title of Grand Master for Splendid Happiness with the Silver Seal and Blue Ribbon, and served as governor of Shezhou. Huiming did not let the family’s work in their homeland decline; instead, he brought it to ever greater flourishing. He unlocked the profound mysteries hidden in secret books and spread the expansive teachings of the wondrous Dao. The Dao is subtle and elusive as sound; the mind is so fine it seems like a breath. He played the pitch pipes and brought warmth to the valleys; he calculated the calendar and understood the seasons of Heaven. Though the court summoned him many times, he never accepted an appointment.

His grandson, Honglu Qing, Duke of Yue, a Daoist priest at Jinglong Temple, received Daoist books from his father in childhood and mastered Daoist arts at an early age. He kept his elders’ instructions firmly in mind and began putting them into practice in everyday life. He read all the books under Heaven and was also well versed in Daoist methods. With fire rites he cleansed what was unclean; with sword arts he destroyed demons that brought harm. Favored by five emperors, his reputation spread in every direction.

When he entered court, he passed through the many gates and barriers of the palace to pay his respects to the Son of Heaven, becoming an intimate attendant of the emperor, free to come and go. When he left court, he followed the example of Jade Capital, the celestial city of the Daoists, and lived in a Daoist temple, becoming a teacher to the people. Thus he became a master among Daoists and earned honor among court officials. At court he received respect and a stipend, and he once kept watch overnight within the palace walls.

He often strengthened himself by regulating his breath; the older he grew, the more vigorous his spirit became. Though he was nearing life’s end and time was pressing, his devotion to his family remained deep and heartfelt. He therefore submitted a memorial expressing his wish to return home and pay respects at his ancestors’ graves. The emperor understood his feelings and issued two edicts in reply. When the emperor’s handwritten decree arrived, the associated honors and arrangements were announced as well. As Fashan returned home, officials along the route held farewell banquets, and local administrators came out to the suburbs to welcome him. The ceremonies of the court gained added splendor, and everyone in the region rejoiced.

The court used the renown of his Daoist arts to honor his filial devotion; he, in turn, remembered the aspirations of his ancestors and raised a great stele to record their virtue. The inscription reads:

“Zongwen’s character was always upright, and his family lived in seclusion and practiced the Dao for generations. The lineage of the Great Dao was passed down like fire carried from one bundle of kindling to the next. Master Huang upheld the Daoist arts, and the pearl of the Red River was passed on without interruption. The Great Dao opened the hidden gateways, and human nature became one with the True Way.”

His family had accumulated virtue and good works over generations, extending through four generations and a hundred years. He lived in seclusion in the mountains, avoiding worldly fame. Aloof and far-reaching, he was gentle in manner and lofty in bearing. Musk draws the flames because its scent is so strong; a pearl falls because its brilliance catches the eye. When someone makes a point of displaying his talents, a summons often never comes. He preserved himself not out of base self-interest, but because he saw plainness as a lasting advantage.

His filial descendants brought greater prosperity to the family, and a wise ruler, too, acted in accord with the times. His aspirations never brought shame upon his forebears, though his actions need not have been the same as theirs. When the court summoned worthy men, talent abounded; when it sought men who lived in seclusion, the mountains and forests stood empty. How, then, could he rest easy? He was able to decline the duty of assisting in the governance of the court, while discerning subtleties and understanding change, offering counsel with all his heart and speaking with complete sincerity.

Though the emperor’s favor toward him was profound, his devotion to his parents was just as deep. Court robes bestowed upon him arrived one after another, and the family line continued without interruption. He left the court and returned to the hills where his ancestors were buried. There he had a stone engraved to commemorate his forebears, making their virtue known in keeping with his own convictions. The work of filial piety and loyalty was accomplished, and honor and favor have endured to this day. His virtue surpassed that of antiquity and will forever serve as a model for Jiangnan.

On the seventh day of the third month in the fifth year of the Kaiyuan era (717), the Ding-Si year, attendant, abbot of Qingxi Temple Zhan Xuanyi, Ding Xiao.

A Perfected One had a stele known as the “Stele of T Zheng Temple.” The account inscribed at its end is roughly as follows. Tradition says that Li Gong (Li Yong) had already composed the inscription but could not write it out himself. The Perfected One therefore summoned his spirit and made him write it; for this reason, people called it the “Spirit-Summoning Stele.” Many characters in the inscription are erroneous. It was late at night, as the bell was tolling, and Li Gong had not finished writing when he awoke. The inscription had already been carved into the stone, so it was not changed.

Stele for the Perfected One’s Father

“Stele and Preface for Lord Ye, Bestowed the Title of Governor of Huanzhou in the Great Tang”

Written by Li Yong of Jiangxia

Written and titled by Han Zemu, a Grand Student of the Imperial College.

His personal name was Huiming, and his courtesy name was Dezhao. He was from Nanyang. His ancestry was traced back to the Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, and continued through the time of King Wen of Zhou. Tradition says that his ancestors received a fief in Ye and took Ye as their surname. From then on, each generation of the family produced worthy and distinguished people.

In those days, emperors rose in response to Heaven’s mandate, and sages appeared with the luminous virtue of the spirit. Rulers and ministers answered one another like wind and clouds. Through a dream omen, an emperor received a sign, and a worthy man was summoned to serve. Such portents foretold the arrival of an able minister; Lord Ye was one of them.

Lord Ye was born into a household like an immortal’s abode and inherited the teachings of Daoism. He followed in the footsteps of recluses and shared the outlook of elders who lived in seclusion among the mountains and forests. He built a dwelling beside a stream and settled in a deep valley. He treated others kindly, yet lived through troubled times without seeking office.

He enjoyed wine and was especially well versed in the Laozi. His conversation often brought people delight, and his explanations of its principles were clear and penetrating. He patiently guided younger students and gladly welcomed visitors with an open mind. Those eager to learn often gathered at his home, and elders from the village came and went without end. Whenever the moon rose and a clear breeze stirred the woods, he would lean on his staff and call out across the valley, or sit on the ground and play the zither. At ease and content, he delighted in life and lived so simply that he forgot the passing years.

He cultivated his heart and nature, and lived almost as long as an immortal. He emulated Red Pine’s free roaming and followed the arts of nourishing life practiced by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. He regarded himself as less important than all things, returned to the root, and remained gentle. He followed the balance of nature and kept his inner stillness. His mind was undisturbed by external things, and neither favor nor disgrace could alarm him. Calm and composed, his De was deep and difficult to fathom.

Thus, his teachers treated him with great respect, and the people of his village were deeply influenced by him. Depending on their own understanding, people called him wise or benevolent. Even those in plain clothes and humble dwellings would step aside and treat him with reverence when they met him, holding him in awe and not daring even to breathe carelessly. Lord Ye’s reputation thus entered the family and brought prosperity to his descendants.

I, Yue Gong, inherited the noble De of my ancestors and carried on the family’s good fortune. I was born intelligent and later studied diligently without pause.

He was exceptionally gifted by nature and inherited a great undertaking. Even in his youth, he showed outstanding talent and studied Daoist arts; as an adult, he became attuned to the mysterious Dao. He traveled far to famous mountains and blessed lands, seeking out recluses who cultivated the Dao. When he performed magic, he arranged talismans and registers, and the clamor shook like thunder. His breath issued like a blade, its light flashing like lightning. He could sink beneath the sea without wetting his clothes, and cross frozen ground without feeling cold. He could command the myriad ghosts and subdue the hundred spirits, invoke the talismanic decrees of the underworld’s bureaucracy, and alter the registers of the netherworld offices. He could investigate events of the past and foresee what was to come. Even those at death’s door could not conceal their illnesses from him, while damp cold from mist and dew could not make his own condition worse. His extraordinary deeds were many, and his fame spread ever farther.

The emperor therefore held him in high regard and summoned him repeatedly. The emperor even went in person to his sleeping quarters to meet him and ask about portents of calamity. When he offered counsel, the emperor leaned close to listen; when asked about specific matters, his judgments often proved true. He served through four generations and five reigns. The emperors, responding to the times, invited him to serve as Celestial Master (Tianshi) and treated him with reverence. His reputation was unmatched, and the high ministers respected him too, leaving the seat of honor for him.

When the state held ceremonies to sacrifice to Heaven and Earth, or made offerings to mountains and seas during imperial tours, he was often ordered to preside over the rites, present jade bi discs, and prepare pure sacrificial offerings. The court sent relay carriages to escort him, while the commanderies and counties welcomed him and paid their respects, several times each year.

In recent times, treacherous ministers begrudged others their favors and secretly plotted disaster. Petty men used evil arts to deceive the people and even dared to lead a rebellion, bringing calamity in their wake. The times had yet to turn auspicious, and upheaval in the state was about to begin. He then set out in full the signs of the spirits’ unseen protection and vigorously explained the strategies of the sage ruler. The court divined and selected an auspicious day, then ordered officials from every quarter to join in offering sacrifices to the spirits of the mountains and rivers. He aided the state and shared the ruler’s cares, ultimately eliminating the chief culprit and upholding the rightful imperial house. The court praised his achievements and honored his loyalty, granting him an eminent title and rewards during his lifetime, and posthumously bestowing honors upon his father. Without such a father, how could such a son have been taught? And without such a son, how could the father’s De (Virtue/Power) be made manifest?

His father had already been buried in a cemetery surrounded by pines and cypresses, but no stele had yet been erected. To ensure that filial devotion would be remembered by later generations, the court recalled these events and urgently sent for someone to compose the inscription. Yet the stone was to be carved beside the river, far away. Even so, they made a special effort to seek a man of letters at a distance, humbling themselves to summon me, an ignorant and unworthy person, to write it. Like Zhao Kuo, who could only talk about military strategy, what one has studied often lacks the practical experience of those who came before.

Zhao Kuo, a general of the State of Zhao during the Warring States period, spoke of military strategy with many omissions, failing to master the learning of those who came before him. Ban Gu, the Eastern Han historian, did indeed rely on documents kept in his family’s collection when writing history. I have now, with some difficulty, completed this piece; standing before the stone, I feel deeply ashamed. The inscription reads:

The Perfected Ye was sincere and reclusive. His heart was still, practicing Wuwei (non-action), and so he was able to cast off his bodily form and become an immortal. How moving that he stood alone, admired the ancients, and traveled far in search of the Dao (the Way). He nearly grasped the wondrous De (Virtue/Power), and was able to ascend to heaven and behold the elixir scriptures. He returned to his original nature, untouched by worldly dust; his heart was bright and calm, with no desire for schemes or gain. He built a dwelling among mountains and waters, keeping medicinal herbs at his side and teaching the art of the qin. In the valley winds he gave a long, unhurried cry; beneath the moon he walked slowly through the woods. White clouds delighted him, and clear springs cleansed his heart. How could one not visit such a place? How could one fail to see such wonders in person? Though the distance was short, the mind’s reach was far; his feelings deepened with the place where he lived.

Books of every age recorded him, and the imperial house once held him in esteem. He had outstanding disciples who spread his fine De. Zuo Ci could conjure objects, and the Yue physician excelled at reading people’s complexion; Ye could perceive the designs of ghosts and spirits and command supernatural powers. Five rulers favored him, and his reputation traveled far in every direction.

The sun and moon had once been obscured in eclipses, and the state had suffered many calamities. Rebellious forces rose, and loyal ministers and righteous men were filled with grief and indignation. The Perfected Ye had foreseen these events long before and had done all he could to offer aid in secret. The emperor was wise and martial; he made a decisive choice and swiftly sent out troops to pacify the turmoil. Grateful for Ye’s service, the emperor intended to grant him land. This was not meant to glorify Ye himself, but to honor his father after death; accordingly, he bestowed on him a vermilion fief and a purple seal cord. In life, he enabled another to receive a fief; after death, he too received honor. Thus loyalty and righteousness were recognized, and filial piety fulfilled.

Pines and parasol trees stand in row upon row; when the breeze passes through, it stirs sorrow. A marker stands before the tomb, but no words record his De. Before this solemn resting place, thoughts of filial devotion continue without end. Who can pass his deeds down through the ages? For this reason, this lofty stone stele was erected.

Posthumously granted the titles Grand Master for Splendid Happiness with Silver Seal and Blue Ribbon, and Prefect of Shezhou; his son, the Daoist Master Fashan, was appointed Court Gentleman of the Court of State Ceremonial and Duke of Yue. In the fifth year of the Kaiyuan era (717 CE), on a Ding-si year, in the month of Chunwei, on the seventh Jiachen day, the stele was erected.

The imperial edict posthumously appointing him Governor-General of Yuezhou says:

The late Daoist, formerly an official, Ye, was endowed with pure and subtle qualities and had a thorough understanding of the mysterious principles. He encompassed the secret essentials of Daoism and expounded the wonders of the numinous talismans. His realm was deep and still, beyond investigation; it was empty, quiet, and remote, beyond the measure of most people. Yet his heart dwelt in the immortal realm of Penglai. He had served under five dynasties, all the while keeping firmly to his identity as a Daoist. Therefore, he is specially granted purple robes and posthumously appointed Governor-General of Yuezhou.

The Perfected Master Ye, a Daoist surnamed Ye, had held an official post during his lifetime. His cultivation was profound, his natural endowment pure, and he understood the subtle mysteries of the Dao. He grasped the secret essentials of Daoism and explained and applied the methods of sacred talismans. His practice reached depths that were difficult to fathom, and few could understand it. He devoted himself to the Daoist path through five dynasties and remained steadfast in his conduct as a Daoist. When the court bestowed on him the purple sash of high office, he took no pride in it. His character was exceptional, refined and unworldly; his bearing was extraordinary, untouched by worldly concerns. His bearing was firm as metal and stone, while his inner radiance shone like a jewel. His cultivation may therefore be called that of a middle immortal, while his reputation belongs among those of the highest De.

In the intervals between my duties of state, I repeatedly sought his counsel on the ultimate Dao. He often advised me on the art of governing, and his deliberations held deep meaning; the matters he presented also greatly benefited the state. I lament that his good name still endures among the living, while his physical body has already passed away. I had hoped to keep him with us, yet this worthy man suddenly departed. Memories of our time together often return to my mind and bring sorrow. A formal decree should be bestowed, so that his De may be honored at his tomb. Approved: the Perfected Master Ye is posthumously granted the title of Governor-General of Yuezhou.

An Imperial Inscription for the Perfected Master.

An inscription and preface for the late Ye, Venerable Master and Daoist, Grand Master for Glorious Happiness with the Gold and Purple insignia, Minister of Ceremonies, Duke of Yue, abbot of Jinglong Abbey, posthumously granted the title of Governor-General of Yuezhou. The inscription was written by the emperor himself, and the inscription heading was composed by the crown prince.

I have heard that Xuanyuan, the Yellow Emperor, was the most flourishing ruler among the Three Sovereigns, and that he honored Guangchengzi as his teacher. Tang Yao and Yu Shun were the most flourishing rulers among the Five Emperors, and they took Yin Shou as their teacher. Thus, the Way of the sages was used to instruct those gifted for sagehood. Only after maintaining this practice for seven days, and then for nine days, could one attain “Dawn Clarity”—a clear and open state of mind—and see the Way. Entering water without wetting one’s clothes, stepping into fire without feeling heat, summoning wind and rain, and commanding ghosts and spirits: these powers take many forms and can be applied to all things. Only the spirit can accomplish them. The numinous can adapt and transform in response to circumstance, while the Way can reach through to all affairs. If one encounters a person such as this, one may say that the teaching is established through the spirit’s way.

The title of this Daoist master was Fashan, and his courtesy name was Daoyuan. His ancestors were enfeoffed at Zhuliang, a place known as Ye, and so he was called Lord Ye; the fief also took this name, which is why Ye became the family name. In his early years, he was from Nanyang. His great-grandfather was named Daoxing, his grandfather Guozhong, and his father Huishan, who was later posthumously granted the title of governor of Shezhou. Those who settle in seclusion among hills and gardens and uphold their family traditions can preserve the continuity of our Daoist lineage. Those who inherit the virtue of their forebears can still be traced back to their origins after a hundred generations. Thus, his fame spread throughout the realm, though his person remained far away amid rivers and seas; now, he is of Gukuo.

In the Bingzi year of the Daye era of the Sui dynasty, the master was born. In the Gengshen year of the Kaiyuan era of our Great Tang, he shed his bodily form and ascended into the clouds, at the age of one hundred and seven. From Bingzi to Gengshen is one hundred and five years; counting the leap years, the total comes to six hundred and forty-two sexagenary cycles. Hence it is said that he lived to the age of one hundred and seven. When he was born, though still very young, his appearance was already like that of a child. At death, he cast off his body, while his spirit silently became an immortal.

He often traveled with me. Looking up to him, I found him ever higher and more profound the longer I gazed; probing into him, I found him ever more solid and unfathomable. His insight lay hidden, without form; his power was profound and impossible to measure. As for supporting the state and assisting the ruler, he too had stirred people’s hearts and displayed his talents. I could honor him, but I could not regard him as a subject.

Some parts of his life and conduct can be recounted. At the outset, when the master was just seven years old, he crossed the river to play and did not return even after three years. People thought he had drowned. When he came back, they asked what had happened. He said, “Three Azure Youths led me away and took me to rest in a splendid, towering palace.”

He swallowed elixirs and inhaled the immortals’ nectar from the clouds. Heaven protected him, allowing him to remain in the human world. When he was fifteen, he died of poisoning. Afterward, he saw again the Azure Youth, the immortal attendant he had encountered before. The youth told him that Lord Mao of Mount Tiantai, an immortal of Mount Mao, had stamped his abdomen with a flying seal. At first, the pressure left him almost unable to breathe; only after a long time did he suddenly revive. This, roughly speaking, is why the master could communicate with the spirits and bring about efficacious results.

He then traveled with a staff among famous mountains, journeying far in search of Lord Mao, and at last met him. Lord Mao’s brow bones rose prominently, and his pupils were square. His bearing was cool and otherworldly. Smiling, he said, “You have come. Your name has already been entered in the register of immortals. You have faced trials from demonic obstacles in the human world, so I intervened to save you from danger. You should make it your purpose to assist people and support their moral transformation. There is no need to hurry to leave the human world or seek your return.”

After this, on Mount Qingcheng he studied the arts of Dunjia and treading the Mysterious (Daoist methods involving Dunjia and ritual steps) under Zhao Yuanyang. On Mount Song, he transmitted to Wei Shanjun the Way of the Eight Histories and Cloud-Walking (a Daoist method recorded in the original text). He lived in quiet retreat on Mount Luofu and Mount Kuocang, and traveled among immortal mountains such as Penglai and Fangzhang. He received numinous diagrams and secret instructions, true methods of immortal talismans, documents recording the registers of immortals, and transmissions conveyed through hidden spiritual communion.

With his eyes closed, he could see eighteen thousand spirits. By swallowing and gathering the Qi of embryonic breathing, he could breathe at a rhythm equivalent to twelve hundred breaths. At times he would dive into the watery realm; at others, he would step into fire. Sometimes he would cut open his abdomen and wash his intestines and stomach, then recover on his own without medicine. Sometimes he would remove his eyes and pierce their membranes, place talismans within them, and restore them to good condition. At times he would mix poisons together and swallow them without changing expression. At others he would summon ghosts and spirits, making them appear at once. He rebuked drought demons and commanded the spirits as though they were attendants. His fame thus spread throughout the realm, and his transformations were without limit.

The emperors of the previous dynasty trusted and favored him greatly, summoning him several times in a single day. When I was still in the princely residence, I often heard the essentials of his Daoist arts. After I began governing the realm, I continued to listen with an open mind to his profound teachings. When treacherous ministers secretly plotted rebellion and violent men arrogantly committed crimes, he always reported it in advance and timely offered support and protection from the shadows. The court therefore bestowed on him a purple sash and the high rank of a duke or marquis. Yet he remained steadfast in his principles and declined honors such as carriages, horses, and official robes and headdresses.

His virtue was far-reaching and his generosity profound; his moral stature was lofty and its radiance unmistakable. He arrived at a favorable moment, yet left behind no achievements to recount—this was the circumstance of the Master’s life. He departed at a favorable moment without arousing resentment—this showed how he followed the mandate of Heaven.

Earlier biographies disagree about the year and month of the Master’s death. Some say it was in the year of Chunwei, in the month of Chunhuo; others record that he died in the year Gengshen. In the traditional cycle of Jupiter’s movements, Chunwei, Chunhuo, and Chunshou are all names for celestial sectors, but accounts differ about which months and years they indicate. Since the earlier and later inscriptions and biographies do not agree, I have refrained from altering the received accounts.

At that time, the Master returned to his original nature, freed himself from the constraints of the body, and attained liberation. On the first day of the month, the court posthumously bestowed on him the title Governor-General of Yuezhou. Later, he was buried at Mount Kuocang, without the court’s ceremonial rites, in accordance with his long-held wishes.

The Master had an extraordinary natural endowment and exceptional integrity. His spirit was clear and seemed to transcend bodily form; his features were refined and his bearing remarkable. For this reason, Master Wan once praised him, saying, “Your appearance already bears the signs of an immortal. You truly belong in the Immortal Court. One day, I will be your colleague.” His words were indeed true.

The Book of Changes says that a noble person may at times serve in office and at times withdraw into seclusion. Those who serve in office do not necessarily enjoy the ease of living in the mountains and forests; those who withdraw do not necessarily attain high rank and honor. Though those whose aspirations are directed toward the Dao can answer one another in harmony, their different ways of life are difficult to unite. The Master cultivated his spirit until it returned to Great Harmony, and contemplated the Mysterious Female, the profound and wondrous source from which all things come forth. He was a model of the noble person’s life in seclusion. A golden seal is precious, and the purple sash of office is soon to be bestowed: this is the splendor of the noble person’s rise to public distinction. Without virtue of the broadest and deepest kind, and conduct in accord with the divine, who could possess both these realms?

The Master therefore received the favor of the royal house across five generations. In our own reign, several people also received the transmission of his Daoist teachings. There can be no doubt that he deserves to be called a patriarch. Those who write accounts should record the facts; those who praise virtue should honor his teachings. The Master understood me. How could I fail to write his biography? In writing this account, I am truly free of misgivings. Readers may examine these words and compare them with the facts. The inscription reads:

Suddenly it arises, and there is nothing among the myriad things that does not come forth from it. It flows on, clear and limpid, and there is nothing among the myriad things that does not enter through it. It is the root from which all things grow and the source of every transformation. To perceive the mysterious through it is to be called one of the ranked Immortals—an Immortal who has attained the Dao. What are these ranked Immortals like? They can dissolve the transformations of the body and defer old age. And what is the mysterious? Could it require anything beyond the Great Dao? They penetrate the hidden and subtle, assist and uphold the Dao, and display wondrous transformations and uncanny creations.

As for heterodox shrines and the sources of calamity, however deeply concealed, they must be investigated. One must examine what goes against the proper order and what accords with it, assist in governing affairs, and accomplish meritorious deeds. Those able to look back on the past and discern the subtle have cultivated achievements that accord with the divine. Their rewards and honors will be increased and bestowed; what lies ahead will not be empty. Regard affinity as though forgetting it; in a trance, my heart has its own thoughts. The Great Possession hexagram in the Classic of Changes signifies good fortune; the virtue of the Yellow Center, centered and upright, comprehends affairs. The Silent Immortal gives himself to transformation and shedding; the mystery is profound and far-reaching, without end. In Ye County, an ascension took place; by the Liao Sea, a crane came to rest. The mysterious Daoist way flourishes and endures, splendid and luxuriant across a thousand years.

In the twenty-seventh year of the Kaiyuan era, the year of the Earth Hare, the first day of the second month was the day of Earth Goat. On the twenty-sixth day, the Perfected One rode upon transformation and departed. The twenty-four characters beginning with “rode upon transformation and departed” were present in the old edition; for now, they are retained, and I dare not remove them.

Memorial by the Disciple Ding Zhengguan, Giving Thanks for the Bestowal of a Stele Inscription for the Perfected One

Yinshi, a Daoist of the Jinguan Abbey within the realm, read aloud the imperial text issued within the realm and bestowed upon my master. I knelt to receive the emperor’s edict and looked up at the emperor’s own writing, at once fearful and joyful, fortunate yet sorrowful. I was privileged to be counted among his disciples, and my gratitude and humility are beyond measure. I have respectfully recorded and set forth this matter in thanks, and submit it for imperial attention. I respectfully present this memorial. On the twenty-third day of the fourth month in the twenty-seventh year of the Kaiyuan era, the disciple Ding Zhengguan and others, Daoists of Jinglong Abbey, submitted it.

Edict to the Master Zhixu Jian

Ye Fashan, Grand Master for Meritorious Service with the Golden and Purple Insignia, Minister of Ceremonies, Duke of Yue, and Celestial Master Yuan Zhen, Protector of the State, was a man who cultivated the Dao. Those who cultivate the Dao do not seek fame, and the world has no way to assign them a name. This is precisely why perfected beings who have attained the Dao cast fame aside. Yet to praise good conduct, condemn evil, teach the people, and establish standards, rulers must still use titles as marks of distinction. Thus, those who study the Dao, attain its methods, and transcend the world continue to be revered even centuries later. Though Ye Fashan has long since departed, his figure—sword at his side, boots on his feet—seems still before our eyes, ever concerned with worldly affairs and responsive to the people. The people of the prefecture have petitioned the court to grant him a higher title. He already possessed this honor by nature; now, for the time being, we change his title to comfort the people of the prefecture. He is hereby granted the title “Master Who Attains Emptiness and Beholds Simplicity.” The twenty-first day of the first month in the sixth year of Zhenghe.

Edict Further Honoring the Perfected One Who Is Spiritually Empty and Beholds Simplicity

We cultivate ourselves by contemplating the wondrous Dao, and promote simple, sincere customs to bring peace to the people. Those who revere exalted perfected beings often recall their deeds of old. The Perfected One Who Beholds Simplicity, Ye Fashan, was an immortal official of the Taiji and a feathered adept who practiced the Dao on Mount Kuocang. He swept away demonic and baleful forces until they vanished, and subdued the demons and monsters until they fled in terror. Thus, during the Kaiyuan era, he repeatedly manifested wondrous transformations, his movements beyond comprehension, though their source was entirely natural. The title “Who Beholds Simplicity” is already supported by an edict from the Zhiping era. The court reveres him, and it is fitting to honor him further. He is hereby granted the title “Perfected One Who Is Spiritually Empty and Beholds Simplicity,” in recognition of his wondrous and numinous De. The twenty-fifth day of the sixth month in the second year of Xuanhe.