《庐山太平兴国官采访真君事实》Vol. 2

The Qi cultivated through practice connects with nature, enabling one to reach the true realm and respond to the spirits. So he came to the stream, pointed to the water, and said to Bi Ri, “When water grows still, its reflection becomes clear and true. When the mind grows still, the spirit becomes peaceful. This principle must be understood.” He then transmitted the methods of alchemy to Bi Ri and said, “In the future, I will meet you again beneath Shengzhi Peak.” After the two bowed and parted, he suddenly vanished.

That same day, Bi Ri returned to the mountain. Just then, the deputy post at the palace had fallen vacant, and the prefectural government issued an order appointing him to the position. Before long, he asked to retire from office. He built a Daoist retreat to the right of the palace compound, dug a pond to hold water, and named it “Qingsi.” Each day he shut himself away to practice in stillness, gathered his spirit within, and recited one scroll of the Scripture of Deliverance (Duren Jing).

On the third day of the first month in the yisi year of the Xuanhe era, a mountain recluse dressed in armor came to visit. He reminisced with Bi Ri and passed on a poem titled “Qinyuanchun.” The poem says: A single Golden Elixir, as large as a millet grain, forms into Neidan in stillness and concentration. Set in motion Yin-Yang’s primal Qi, subdue the dragon and tiger, gather the water of Metal, then choose a secluded place for refining and cultivation. After nine years of practice without lapse, when the work of the three fields—the upper, middle, and lower Dantian—is complete and the cycles of hexagram Qi have run their course, the furnace and cauldron will open. The secret of seizing Creation’s workings and receiving nature’s foundation lies entirely in the numinous terrace, where the heart and spirit reside. Those truly endowed should not cling to the dusty world. And you, with your keen understanding, have already attained “the bright, empty infant not yet born”—a phrase describing the infantlike, pure inner state in Neidan practice. Fortunately, we met on the banks of the Huai and I have entrusted the elixir to you, personally leaving you the essential, mysterious teaching. May you continue your practice and advance among the ranks of the immortals. When shall we meet again? May we meet among the waters and clouds and set out once more on the road to the cloud heights of the immortals. Whether people hold the exalted rank of a prince or another lofty station, all will ultimately return to dust.

Four days after receiving the poem, Bi Ri straightened his robes, sat upright, and passed away. Today, in the palace’s Hall of Nurturing Simplicity, the side chamber to the right bears the inscription “Qingsi,” and the pond remains. This account is drawn from the inscription on a stele recorded in the palace’s old annals.

Wang Sanyi, abbot of Jinhua Grotto.

The Daoist Wang Bingwen of this local temple, whose courtesy name was Yanheng, attained the Dao and then traveled to the capital. At the time, the court was building the Palace of Divine Empyrean and Ten Thousand Longevity. Wang was granted a purple robe and appointed as Keeper of Guests, responsible for receiving visitors.

One day, a practitioner of esoteric arts came to visit. Seeing a copy of the Zhouyi on the table, he used it for divination and said, “War and calamity will come here. You are not among those fated to suffer, so you should leave.” The visitor then taught Wang the essentials of “Preserving the Three and Guarding the One”—a method of cultivation that keeps the body and mind steady and focuses them wholly on the Dao—as well as secret medical arts associated with the Yellow Emperor and Bian Que. Wang thereupon resigned his post and returned to the mountains.

In the fourth year of Jianyan, the temple was burned down by an invading army of bandits. The following year, the raiders withdrew, but no one was willing to take responsibility for rebuilding it. Wang therefore became deputy overseer and spent several years restoring the temple on its ruins. The halls were splendidly adorned, and the images of the gods were repainted. Later, he left the temple’s affairs and lived in seclusion behind closed doors for more than thirty years. He named his residence the Hall of Three Ones, and was therefore known as Master Three Ones. Every day he studied the Daoist Canon, seeking its hidden teachings, and devoted himself as well to the study of medicine. He had no other interests.

On the night of the Shangyuan Festival, the fifteenth day of the first month in the bingxu year of the Qiandao era, he dreamed that a divine being told him, “The Supreme Emperor has ordered you to govern the Great Purity Grotto at Jinhua. He grants you a Reverting-Soul Elixir, so that you may recover your spirit and restore your original Qi. At that time, divine light, a white horse, and officials from the various departments will come to escort you into the grotto.” Having said this, the being vanished, and Wang awoke. The next morning, he told his disciples, “The mortal world is not worth remaining in for long. I am about to depart.” He then entrusted them—including his great-grand-disciple Qin Zhixiang—with his fourteen-volume Collected Records of Sagely Governance and Its Manifest Efficacy and a copy of Interpretations of the Divination Slips of the Perfected Lord of the Western Mountain. The latter is the work used today to interpret the divination slips in the Interview Hall, and is said to be highly effective. He also passed down a copy of the Ten Complete Pulse Formulas and one volume of Secrets of the Purple Court for Worshipping the Dipper.

On the first day of the second month, he offered incense, bathed, changed his clothes, and passed away peacefully.

Tang Fuwen Wenruo, prefect of this province, wrote a funerary inscription:

“I have heard that Perfected Ones do not dream when they sleep. If so, the story of the Perfected One’s dream seems doubtful. Yet it may not be right to dismiss every dream as false. Some have dreamed of worthy ministers and able assistants, then found worthy people upon waking. Others have dreamed of the place where the Emperor of Heaven resides and heard celestial music being played. Human life itself is like a dream, and is truly difficult to explain; a dream within a dream is more so still.

“Master Three Ones was born with a nature in harmony with the Dao. As he departed, he received transformation in a dream and silently understood the truth. The Emperor of Heaven commanded him to govern the grotto at Jinhua and restore his original Qi. I would ask you: what karmic connection brought all this about? Truth and delusion may perhaps be one; a hundred years of life pass in an instant. You departed beyond the ordinary world, the white horse lightly leading you onward.”

The old gardener Qi Kuan inscribed a portrait of him with this eulogy:

“Though unseen and unheard, an image abides in the heart, much like the Perfected One. To try to depict him is labor in vain; even the closest likeness seems to lack something of his spirit. His expression appears to dwell between brow and eyes, like still water, like drifting clouds, as the white horse dances lightly onward.”

The account above is taken from the Record Inscribed on the Stele of the Local Temple.

The Daoist Huang Zhiwei, courtesy name Mingdao, was calm and even-tempered, with a tall, broad build. During the Yuanfeng era, he served as keeper of the temple hall, overseeing its affairs and maintaining the incense offerings. One day, Master Cui, known as the Realized One of Tishan, came to visit. He spoke of the mud pill (the upper Dantian in the head), the myriad spirits, and the marvel of a single grain of daogui (an elixir refined from a tiny amount of medicinal substance). He then taught Huang the “Way of the Valley Spirit of One and Nine” and the “teaching of the Golden Fluid sinking into radiance,” methods of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation.

From then on, Huang’s behavior at times seemed feignedly mad and at others disordered. He wandered without restraint, unconcerned with convention, and people of the time called him “Madman Huang.” He also wrote a poem, “Song of Huang the Mad,” included in this collection. He loved wine. Whenever he got drunk, he would sing at the top of his voice, then appear wildly exuberant. He often shouted loudly from the Chaizhen Bridge in front of the palace, as if scolding someone.

He always wore a patched garment and thought nothing of baring his body. Whether in the depths of winter or the height of summer, he remained at ease, as though insensible to cold and heat. Whatever people gave him, he would casually pass on to others. Sometimes he stayed in the mountains; at other times he wandered through the city. He usually carried two cloth bags, tossing into them whatever he came across, such as pastries and medicine. Yet they gave off no foul odor, so people called them “brocade fragrance.”

When heavy snow covered the mountains, forests, and ravines, no snow settled on the house where Huang Zhiwei lived. He would often point to an altar on the wall beside his house and say, “This is my road to Shu.” At first he could not read, yet he often spoke of events from histories and biographies. He had never been good at writing, but his spoken words were often remarkably profound.

Cai Zigao of Houxi, Sima Zhibai, Cui Fengzi, and Gao Chijiao all associated with him. Huang often liked to sigh at length; once he began, he would continue for a long time. By the end of the Chongning era, he was over ninety, yet his appearance was like that of a young man, his skin as smooth as jade, and his wild manner unchanged. His capacity for wine had not diminished either.

At the end of the Xuanhe era, the court issued an order summoning him, but he refused to go. Officials forced him onto the road. When they reached Jiujiang, he said, “There are two emperors now. What would I go there for?” Later, when Emperor Yuansheng ascended the throne, an amnesty reached the palace. Before the fire occurred, Huang Zhiwei hung fan zhi and stuck mugwort stalks on an altar in the Interview Hall, singing, “Next year it will all be over, next year it will all be over.” The following year, Han Shiqing led troops that burned down the palace. It was the very year Huang had put up the mugwort.

What Huang said about people’s fortunes and misfortunes later came true, one by one. Huang Zhiwei eventually sat in meditation beside the palace and passed away, ascending to immortality, as Daoists describe the death of a practitioner who has realized the Dao. Several years later, someone returned from Shu and said, “Madman Huang is in Shu now. I saw him in Chengdu just yesterday, and he asked me to bring back a letter from home.” The others were puzzled. They opened a chest and found inside the spirit tablet of the only Daoist to have survived the unrest. They then opened Huang Zhiwei’s coffin and examined it; only his clothes and shoes remained. This account is recorded in the Biography of Perfected Huang.

The Daoist Liu Lie of this temple was known by the name Xuguzi. At the time of his birth, his mother dreamed of an extraordinary vision. As he grew up, he showed uncommon ambition. He studied and pursued his learning in the mountains, and kept company with people of simple character. When princes, dukes, and ministers saw his bearing, they praised his dignified, unadorned manner and believed he would accomplish great things.

In 1136, he built a thatched hut and named it “Zhenyi.” From then on, he sat upright each day, studying and collating the Daoist Canon, scriptures, and historical records, and making notes as he read. Many scholar-officials were eager to befriend him. Zhu Xi, whose courtesy name was Huian and who was a Southern Song Neo-Confucian scholar, once discussed the Classic of Changes and the Return of the Elixir—a term for Daoist Neidan cultivation—with him. Related poems praise Xuguzi for his familiarity with texts on the Return of the Elixir and his skill in explaining their subtleties; the essentials of cultivation, they say, are not far away but right before us. One poem compares the practice to driving a horse and nurturing the “Five Sprouts,” a Daoist cultivation term. After discussing his insights into cultivation, he sobers up from wine and descends the mountain, wondering whom he will ever again be able to speak with so freely.

After meeting Xuguzi, Zhang Xiaoxiang, whose courtesy name was Yuhu and who was a Southern Song writer, left him a poem and departed. The poem says that, deep in Mount Lu, a secluded grotto-heaven and blessed land offers a place of quiet cultivation and immortality. Only Xuguzi can grasp its subtle pleasures: he understands the timing of refining and nurturing, and knows how to follow nature. Other distinguished figures, including Luo Dian, Wang Yan, Cao Xun, Zhou Shun, and Yue Fu, also often visited to discuss the Classic of Changes and exchange poems with him. Their works are included in the Collected Poems of Distinguished Figures of This Temple.

In 1163, Xuguzi wrote commentaries on the text of the Zhouyi and on the Liuren, a traditional system of divination. He also compiled related essential teachings into a book and brought it to the capital to present to the court. The court summoned him, questioned him about Daoist arts, and hosted a banquet in his honor. At the court’s request, he composed a poem called “The Three Mao Temple.” He also wrote poems expressing gratitude for the audience and the wine he had been granted, and asking permission to return to the mountains. These works appear in his collected writings.

Afterward, he lived in the mountains for more than ten years. In June 1173, he went for more than forty days without food, drinking only cold water. On the fourteenth day of the seventh month, he submitted to the Wooden-Word Archive the twenty-five volumes of Ascending to the Real: Hidden Instructions, which he had written by hand, along with nine volumes of the Upper Scripture. Around the time of the Zhongyuan Festival, on the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, he left poems and prose in his own hand. In them, he said that Xuguzi was about to shed his bodily form and leave the world, sweep away the traces of worldly life, and journey to a vast realm of mist and cloud, where he would unite with the Dao.

On the night of the sixteenth, he climbed by moonlight to the summit of Ke Niu Cave on Mount Lu, sat upright, and died. His works include One Hundred Chapters on the Return of the Elixir, miscellaneous writings, poems and prose, Explanations of the Zhouyi (prefaced by Shanzhai Yi Shangshu), and Illustrated Essentials of Rulers and Ministers Through the Dynasties. They have been handed down to later generations. These accounts appear in the temple stele composed by Jiang Yong, as well as in The Biography of Xuguzi and the Record of This Temple.

The Transformation of Patriarch Liu

Liu Dazhang, a Daoist priest at this temple, had the courtesy name Kaizu. He was from Hukou in Jiangzhou and was born in the Guihai year of the Yuanfeng era. As a child, he studied and practiced in the mountains. During Emperor Huizong’s reign, he passed the Daoist scripture examination, became a Daoist priest, and took Master Yang Yi as his teacher.

During the military unrest of the Jianyan era, Liu Dazhang took refuge in Poyang. Later, when he returned to his hometown to visit his parents, he heard that the temple had been destroyed in the fighting. With nowhere to go, he and his disciple Luo Shouming settled in an abandoned house in the southeastern part of Chaoyi. They maintained the incense offerings to the Perfected Lord of Investigation, lamented the temple’s destruction, and vowed to spread Daoism and rebuild its work.

Liu Dazhang was simple and cautious in character. He lived frugally and kept a small circle of friends, earning the praise of the local people. He often helped others and made great progress in his Daoist practice. Later, he dismantled the thatched hut and rebuilt the temple, naming it Longde Hermitage. It is now the Xihu Daoist Academy. Local scholars and residents came in large numbers to follow the Daoist faith, and the incense offerings flourished.

By then Liu Dazhang was advanced in years, yet his face still looked youthful. One morning, he rose, bathed, changed his clothes, and recited the Scripture for Deliverance (a Daoist scripture). He then called his disciple to him, explained the way of life, death, and transcendence, and instructed him to tend the incense offerings. When he had finished speaking, he died standing upright. Tradition calls this “standing transformation”: a peaceful death while standing. Even after death, his face looked lifelike, and the onlookers gathered as densely as a wall. This account comes from the Biographies of This Temple.

Patriarch Luo’s Seated Death

The Daoist priest Luo Shouming, whose courtesy name was Deguang, was a senior disciple of Liu Dazhang. He was born in the Jiawu year of the Zhenghe era and came from Pengze in Jiangzhou. During the Jianyan era, he followed his master to Poyang to escape the turmoil. Later they returned to their hometown together. When they heard that their temple had been burned to ashes, they stayed with his master at Longde Hermitage.

The Daoist arts practiced by Luo Shouming had been passed down in his family. Every day he bought animals that could fly, swim, or leap and set them free, never missing a day. One day, when he was gravely ill, he summoned five disciples: Yu Huaide, Yang Huaiyu, Li Huaizhi, Pan Huaixin, and Liu Huaien. He picked up a brush and wrote a verse whose meaning was: “When I am ill, the signs of death are inauspicious; when I truly depart this life, I will suffer no illness. If I can meet Perfected Lü, then my fate is auspicious.” His own handwritten verse is preserved at this temple to this day.

Before long, Luo Shouming recovered and returned to the temple. At the former site of Perfected Huang’s residence, he established a Daoist sanctuary and named it “Nurturing the Correct.” He adopted Perfected Huang’s Daoist title, which is now rendered “Immortal Huang.” Luo Shouming lived to a great age. He burned incense and recited scriptures every day and did not casually associate with others.

One day he went to the dining hall, set out his alms bowl, and sat cross-legged. When everyone began their meal, he remained upright and motionless. They went to check on him and found that he had died while seated. What he had said came true: when he truly departed this life, he was not ill. It was a remarkable event.

The following day, someone at West Lake dreamed of Luo Shouming dressed in purple, with two attendants in blue robes leading the ceremonial procession before him. They recognized the title above him: “Immortal Official of the Grotto Heaven of Huotong Mountain.” Luo Shouming was buried to the left of the temple. As the temple superintendent Hu Baoqing lifted his coffin, he said, “He did not let the turmoil of worldly affairs disturb his true nature, nor did he let wealth and rank hinder his cultivation of the Dao. Though he left behind no wondrous power to retain his bodily form and remain in the human world, he had the skill to shed his mortal body and pass away peacefully while seated.” The hermitage where Luo Shouming once lived at West Lake is now flourishing with incense offerings, far more than in the past. The account above comes from The Biographies of This Temple.

Completion of Volume Five of Accounts of the True Lord Investigated at the Palace of Great Peace and Prosperity on Mount Lu.

Textual notes: Note 1: The original has “shi,” corrected to “hu” based on the meaning. Note 2: The original has “shi,” corrected to “shi” based on the meaning. Note 3: The original has “qi,” corrected to “shen” based on the meaning. Note 4: The original has “sheng,” corrected to “zuo” based on the meaning.

Accounts of the True Lord Investigated at the Palace of Great Peace and Prosperity on Mount Lu, Volume Six: Inscriptions.

“Inscription to the Temple of the Messenger of the Nine Heavens, with Preface”

This inscription was composed by Li Bi, a reclusive scholar from Hengmen, Shushan, Huangmei County, Zhanzhou.

According to a record copied and sent by Wang Ruan, governor of Fuzhou in De’an County, Jiangzhou: Li Bi of the Tang dynasty was learned but never entered government service. During the Kaiyuan era, Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang dreamed of a divine being who identified himself as the “Messenger of Mount Lu” and requested that a temple be built for him. The emperor ordered the provincial inspector Dugu Zheng to oversee its construction and commanded each prefecture to solicit scholars to compose an inscription to the Messenger of Mount Lu. A total of 681 people took part; only Li Bi’s composition was selected. The court summoned him, but he did not go.

The old records of this palace preserve only 551 characters of the inscription. In the Yisi year of the Chunyou era, the Secretariat Director Cheng Cangzhou found the complete text in the Palace Library: 1,772 characters in all. Since the character “Bi” is written in different forms in the sources, both forms are retained here. For the remaining details, see the postscript by Secretariat Director Cheng.

The Book of Changes says, “The alternation of Yin and Yang is called the Dao; the unfathomable transformations of Yin and Yang are called Shen.” The Dao brings forth the myriad things. Three kinds of Qi mingle to form them: subtle and difficult to fathom, they move along with change. Shen obtains unity with the Dao, and its wondrous workings lie hidden in stillness and darkness. The supreme Dao of the Great Origin is subtle yet vast, transforming and shaping the myriad things. How could it fail to merit reverence?

The sage rulers of the Later Tang carried the light through every age, like sunlight shining over the capital. Tokens of the Mandate of Heaven were inscribed upon the precious cauldrons of a flourishing realm. A solitary peak rose high above the white clouds, drawing the gaze of those near and far; for a thousand years, purple Qi lingered and often appeared over Hangu Pass.

Our Great Tang emperor, Kaiyuan Shenwu, received the Mandate of Heaven, attained the hidden mysteries of Heaven and Earth, and mastered the wonders of the Mysterious Pearl. He bestowed precious treasures upon the people, proclaimed the highest Dao without sound or form, and swept away the stagnation of all manner of complex arts. This was the first of his sacred virtues. The emperor reverently upheld the rites of sacrifice, brought order to the teachings of the ancestral temples, and illuminated the realm with the virtue of filial devotion and brotherly affection, moving Heaven and Earth. This was the second of his divine virtues. He turned swords and weapons to farming, and used the majesty of his military strength to awe the four quarters. This was the third, his military achievement. He discerned changes in the times and observed the signs in the sky; ordinary people could not fathom the realm of a sage. This was the fourth, his civil virtue.

Thus the emperor stood above the world of dust, his heart set on distant renown. He encouraged his ministers to present auspicious signs such as the Yellow River Chart. With the clear-sighted heart of Shun, he attended to affairs of state; like the Yellow Emperor, he toured the four quarters, humbling himself to seek out the worthy in a simple thatched hut. In this way came the auspicious signs of Shun’s expansion of the realm and Yu’s receiving of jade, as well as the rites of presenting rare treasures to the Queen Mother of the West and reporting success to the divine beings of the East. Carried on by five dragons, the emperor’s journeys surpassed the traces left by ancient rulers at Mount Liangfu. His eight steeds raced across the world, making even the immortal realm of Kunlun seem small. The celestial bodies moved above, while the numinous beauty of mountains appeared below. The abodes of sage emperors through the ages all became gathering places of immortals and perfected beings. The tradition of joining civil virtue with military achievement and receiving the charts and registers of Heaven’s Mandate had flourished since antiquity.

Ever since the Man of Huafeng prayed that Emperor Yao might live long, sacred virtue had been joined with longevity. Messages were handed down on golden tablets, and sweet dew from the immortals descended. Through imperial favor, a princess entered the Dao and cultivated its pure way, as fragrant as the lotus. A Palace Secretariat official, like a prince, left the world to cultivate the Dao, nurturing a pure and fragrant heart like the sacred mushroom. In the north, the Dark Heaven revealed a vision of the immortals; in the south, the red clouds of dawn signaled an opportunity for the highest learning. The sage’s descendants took Wuwei as their foundation, yet also acted, and so issued an edict to build shrines and temples among the mountains. The Daoist abodes of the perfected lords were thereby brought to prominence, and ancestral shrines were built to assist the divine rites through the power of the unseen.

Mount Qingcheng and Mount Lu are both famed mountains that support the dynasty and enjoy great renown. The registers of immortals record the Perfected Lord of the Elder; the lord’s secret teachings are profound. The envoy governs the affairs of the spirits, while the unseen realm keeps vigilant and all-seeing watch. Their names are entered among the Five Laws, their rank just below that of the Three Demons. Numinous Qi was abundant among the peaks, and all things flourished; the deep valleys experienced the changes of cold and heat and followed the seasons.

On the twenty-first day of the eighth month of Kaiyuan 19 (731), the emperor issued an edict: “The Temple of the Elder at Mount Qingcheng and the Temple of the Envoy at Mount Lu shall follow the regulations for temples of the Perfected Lords of the Five Peaks. Five virtuous Daoist priests shall be appointed to burn incense, cultivate the Dao, and serve the spirits. The responsible officials shall select people of genuine attainment to reside in the temples, record their names, and appoint temple attendants. Court officials in charge of the inner offerings shall oversee the making of a true image of the Envoy and the establishment of a shrine. They shall conduct rites of submitting memorials, Zhaijiao (purification rituals), ritual processions, and purification offerings, and provide for the Daoist temples.”

The ritual master Zhang Pinggong came from the capital to Jiangnan to spread the teachings. He decorated the shrine with painted designs and, by imperial command, promulgated documents of the Mysterious Gate. As he traveled by relay carriage, even the cloud-wreathed mountain crags seemed to grow bright. The military governor of Jiangzhou and prefect, Dugu Zheng, guarded Chaisang and was praised by the people for his virtue and standing. He inspected the region’s defenses, set its administration in order, and oversaw the building of the temples, making them grander in scale and finer in ornament. The Court Gentleman for Audience, Acting Chief Secretary Yang Chuyu, Acting Commandant Huangfu Chuyu, Magistrate of Xunyang County Wei Chang, and others honored the sage’s enlightened teachings and joined in planning the construction of a numinous altar. Daoists and laypeople alike were wholeheartedly devoted and prayed for the spirits’ protection.

At the beginning, while earth was being raised, mist and smoke suddenly shrouded the site. When the shrine was completed, the sky cleared and clouds of rosy color appeared. On the day the foundations were laid, a precious tortoise gave an auspicious sign; during construction, a golden rainbow appeared. The people swept away the darkness and fixed their minds on the mysterious realm, reverently performing the rites of sacrifice. In the depths of night, a dark place suddenly grew bright. A divine radiance burst forth in midair, illuminating the near and far, and reaching to the highest peaks; officials and common people all saw it. In ancient Zhou times, a heavenly spirit was said to have descended and been honored with the Cloud Gate dance; in the Han, divine light shone forth and was answered by rites to the Great One.

It was the depth of winter, and the climate in the south changed abruptly. Frost and snow covered all things, and people suffered from the bitter cold. The ritual master sincerely prayed to the immortal court and, under state orders, performed rites to avert misfortune. Then the winter days grew warm and bright, the sun shone clearly, Yin and Yang were in harmony, and travel and work went smoothly and easily. Everyone came gladly to take part.

Afterward, a fine site outside the city was chosen for the temples. Ridges rose and fell, and pine forests spread their deep green. Timber was taken from Mount Jing, high walls were built, and roads and fences laid out. Red walls gleamed with gold; vermilion pillars stood on embroidered bases. Inside and out, the halls were brightly painted, and carved railings adorned every corner. Rainbow-shaped beams spanned the halls, and windows received the eaves’ shelter. Green leaf patterns adorned the coffered ceilings, while bamboo brooms swept the fragrant altars clean. Silver door knockers shone in the moonlight, and the jade-decorated courtyards looked clear and bright after frost.

The spirits are profound and unfathomable, and their true forms rarely appear. The image of the Envoy was brought from afar and painted according to the Three Immortals’ illustrated register, not copied from the Nine Cauldrons of the Nine Provinces. The craftsmen carefully applied color to the statues, making their forms radiant and beautiful; absorbed in their work, they hoped their sincerity would reach the spirits. The purification chamber and sacrificial shrine were arranged with solemn dignity, as though the spirits stood before them. Banners shimmered like lightning and rosy clouds, and the ceremonial procession appeared again and again. The temples stood among famed mountains, and the rites were conducted with solemnity. The Purple Pole, abode of the Celestial Emperor, was honored, and Daoist priests received support. Offerings were continually cooked in jade cauldrons, incense burned without ceasing in golden censers, and food and plants were prepared for the spirits. Phoenixes seemed to fly, while divine elders and constellations seemed to descend.

Clear music and chanting rang through the heavens, like the crossing at the Gourd Star beside the Celestial River. The shrine was comparable to the palace of the water immortals and to the immortal island of Penglai in the sea. Dragon-shaped wine vessels and crane-shaped incense burners were displayed in the pure ritual space, while auspicious beasts that warded off evil guarded the place of concentrated cultivation. Pearl banners protected the offerings, and jade canopies accompanied the divine palanquin. Offerings were presented to the spirits as if prepared in the Celestial Kitchen; prayers and chants were performed at the six daily watches, and the true scriptures were recited beneath cloud-patterned canopies in an enduring practice.

The shrine was no longer merely a humble thatched hut. It now made manifest the grand achievement of a sage dynasty that valued frugality while honoring the spirits. The court’s grace extended to the imperial clan, and the spirits, too, had a palace where they might dwell. It was only fitting that people should come to pay their respects and seek blessings. In the twelfth month of winter, the officials in charge were ordered to complete the construction and set the measurements according to regulation.

The Daoist priests of the Mysterious Gate, Zhang Chongji and the others, faithfully upheld the teachings of the five thousand words. They observed purification and made offerings to the many spirits, looked toward the ranks of immortals, followed the sages in their plans, and devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the Dao. They wished to carve and mold images for the shrine, their thoughts on the court; the Daoist community hoped that precious offerings, like fine jade, would help protect the mountain sanctuary. With the spring waters rising and peach blossoms opening, one could seek out secluded beauty as if far removed from the world; though the apricot groves and deep valleys lay hidden, the sacred site was not far away. We respectfully sing in praise of the emperor’s grace, and offer this ode:

The mysteries of the Great Dao (the Way) are profound and hidden; the dwellings of the spirits are secluded and filled with blessing. When the three lights of the sun, moon, and stars reach their fullest radiance, the Five Sacred Mountains, too, become abodes of the spirits. The true Dao has substance, yet is so subtle that it leaves no trace. Its principles seem elusive and hard to grasp, yet its efficacy lies in bringing peace to all under Heaven.

The dynasty shines with splendor and prosperity, spreading its benevolence throughout the realm and governing all under Heaven. The ruler wisely grasps the mysterious Dao, manifesting grand auspicious signs and the blessings of the imperial succession. Auspicious portents gather across the vast expanse of Heaven and Earth, while purple clouds honor the Great Dao. The state performs solemn rites to worship the hundred spirits and investigates the will of Heaven revealed by the Five Elders. Thus the secrets of lofty mountains are recorded, and the efficacy of their spirits is made manifest. The essences of the three luminous bodies—the sun, moon, and stars—appear, while the perfected immortals of the ten directions convey their meaning in words. Divine might responds through clouds and rain; spirits dwell between Heaven and Earth. Laws and signs appear with clarity, and the true charts shine pure and bright.

In this auspicious age, brought by the wise and virtuous rule of a sage, a secluded shrine receives an honored imperial decree. The immortals’ retinue is ordered and solemn, its auspicious splendor brilliant. The setting sun illuminates palaces like precious jewels, while divine radiance brushes trees like fine jade. The carriage is adorned with carved patterns in emerald hues, and spices are blended in jade cauldrons. Five Zhi, legendary elixirs of immortality, are gathered from lovely mountain peaks; the Eight Gui, legendary immortal trees, are plucked from beneath the soaring beams of covered walkways. Dragons roar and phoenixes dance along the long road to immortality. The immortals wear robes like blue clouds and feathered cloaks like white rainbows. To the sound of jade chimes, they sing ethereal songs, welcoming the feathered guests and perfected immortals with jade nectar.

A hidden land of blessing responds to the spirits’ descent; the colored radiance of the divine realm shimmers in the distant haze. Waters flow on like a ribbon, and a censer sends up fragrant, many-colored smoke. The cries of immortal cranes still linger after a thousand years, while the retinue of luan birds seems to gather in an instant. The True Mother in the Crimson River is hard to encounter; the immortal maiden in the blue-green sea is still more mysterious and unfathomable. May the utmost Dao be reverently upheld, auspicious blessings welcomed, and good fortune endure for trillions of years. The deeds of perfected beings are engraved on the stones of famous mountains, thereby proclaiming the dynasty’s magnificent achievements.

In the twentieth year of the Kaiyuan era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (732), a ren-shen year, the first day of the first month fell on an yi-si day. The stele was erected on the twenty-fifth day, a ji-si day.

Postscript: Stele of the Temple of the Nine Heavens Envoy, Tang dynasty.

Above is the sky, like a vast dome, boundless and majestic. The gathering and spreading of the One Qi, and the growth and transformation of all things, happen naturally, yet people do not know why. Who, then, governs and sustains it all? The Confucians call the sky’s visible form “Heaven” and its ruler the “Emperor”; they have explained the principle in considerable detail. Daoist texts go further, stating plainly that the one who governs Heaven and Earth is the August Supreme Emperor—the highest Celestial Emperor—who resides at the center of the Celestial Court, rules over the Three Realms, assigns offices, and appoints each to govern its own domain. This is like an earthly emperor: within the palace are ministers and officials, while in the provinces are feudal lords and military governors. Linked to one another, each administers rewards and punishments, life and death, and affairs of state; each commands those below and sets standards for the people. The principles of the netherworld and the human world are connected, and could be inferred from this. But Confucian scholars are unwilling to discuss such matters, so they are difficult to explain further.

The descent of numinous spirits and miraculous manifestations of the Three True Lords of Qingcheng, Qianshan, and Lushan is said to have begun during the Kaiyuan era of the Tang. Tracing their origins, they were perhaps brought forth together with the Dao Ancestor of the Limitless in the Great Origin, and were charged with governing the transformation and generation of all things. They govern the world in accord with the times, protecting the state and bringing peace to the people. Their nature cannot be guessed at merely by comparing the eras in which they appeared or whether their deeds were clearly recorded.

During the Shaoxing era, Ye Yiwen, administrator of Jiujiang, compiled the Record of Responses, which included a Tang-era inscription for the temple of Li Bi. In recent years, Daoist priests have gathered scattered materials, beginning with a sheet of facts sent by Wang Ruan, former prefect of Linchuan. Wang Ruan says that after the temple was completed during the Kaiyuan era, the court ordered the provincial governor, Dugu Zheng, to seek out a skilled writer to compose its inscription. Six hundred and eighty-one people answered the summons. Li Bi’s writing met the court’s purpose, but he firmly declined the appointment. Wang Ruan’s account has other evidence to support it. Li Bi’s name is also written Li Bi with a different character. Is this discrepancy due to an error in the old records? The inscription is elegant and worthy of appreciation. Its author must have been a recluse devoted to the Dao, uninterested in official advancement, who had also studied the true teachings with great care.

Since the founding of our dynasty, the realm has prospered and the land has enjoyed peace. The court changed the temple’s designation to a Daoist abbey and palace, and instituted solemn spring and autumn sacrifices in accordance with the seasons. After the Southern Song revival and the court’s move south, the True Lords upheld the righteous way, bestowed blessings, and protected the people; one numinous response after another appeared. After ascending the throne, the emperor honored civil governance and examined the precedents of antiquity, personally practicing benevolence and frugality. Then, as the times converged and war broke out along the borders, the emperor was deeply troubled. He therefore prayed for the people’s safety and carefully conducted secret rites of supplication.

The former director of the Shangqing Palace, the ritual master Xiong Shouzhong, received the imperial command to handle the matter. He then donned his cap and hairpin, knelt before the palace gates, and petitioned for honorific titles to be bestowed upon the True Lords. The emperor personally wrote the three characters “Pavilion of the Three Pure Ones” and bestowed them. He also ordered that the words “Wondrous Transformation” be added after “Nine Heavens, Investigating and Responding, Safeguarding the Mandate and Preserving Good Fortune.” I, your servant Cheng Gongxu, held the brush in the Secretariat and drafted the imperial edict, but feared that its wording did not fully express the emperor’s intention. Xiong Shouzhong therefore asked me to set down the circumstances behind Li Bi’s inscription, both to record this event and to make the emperor’s gift known.

The war is bitter, and the two blessed lands of Minshan and Qianshan lie shrouded in dim mists. Only Lushan rises high and open, standing firm and majestic. This is why the sovereign devoutly honors the sacrifices and prays for calamities to be dispelled: through them, he seeks to stabilize the fortunes of the state and save the people from suffering. This is entirely unlike building lofty towers and hanging splendid curtains, or constructing an open-air terrace and worshipping the Immortal’s Palm in pursuit of extravagant pleasure; it is further still from indulging every human desire and vainly seeking to become immortal.

Alas, calamities and cycles of upheaval have their appointed periods. Even in the flourishing reign of an emperor, they cannot be entirely avoided. Yet the Dao of Heaven cherishes life. How could it bear for the people to die by the sword? A ruler, entrusted by Heaven to nurture the people, should take as his duty the understanding of Heaven’s Dao and the fostering of the people’s growth and well-being. Only then may the ravages of war subside and an atmosphere of harmony descend. Otherwise, how could the Daoist scriptures’ teaching of “safeguarding against cycles of calamity and opening the way to deliverance for all beings”—protecting people through tribulations and saving all living things—be fulfilled? How closely the recent practices of renewing Heaven’s mandate and praying for its continuance accord with the teachings handed down in the sacred scriptures!

Now the sovereign is burdened with concern for the state and diligent in governing; his intentions accord with the Dao of Heaven. The state is turning from obstruction toward prosperity, and the grace of spring has already found its destination. Will not only the perilous mountain paths of the Red Stairway and Heavenly Pillar be cleared, while the Five Elders Peak and the lofty mountains remain forever as sentinels over the region along the river? The lands covered by Heaven will also be brought to peace and order, and the mountains of the four quarters will each keep their proper place. The sacred cauldrons will be set between the Rong River and the Wen and Luo Rivers. The tracks of carts will be made uniform, the written script standardized, and the realm unified across ten thousand miles, while distant peoples of every kind follow the rites. Sacrifice will be offered to the ancestors of our dynasty, matching them with Heaven, and the dynasty’s legacy will endure for a thousand hundred million years.

My talent and understanding are slight, and my duty is to compose words. I wished to write odes like “Che Gong” and “Song Gao,” and to carve an inscription praising the pacification of the Huai region during the Yuanhe era. I know my abilities are unequal to the task, yet I still take up my brush and await instructions.

On the Double Ninth Festival in the xin-chou year, the first year of Chunyou, I, Cheng Gongxu, Court Gentleman for Service and Junior Vice Minister of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, concurrently serving as Academician-in-Attendance at the Hanlin Academy, respectfully composed this postscript.

After Heaven and Earth were separated, Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—each took their proper place. Heaven stretches high and far, its movements never ceasing, while the sun, moon, and stars are arrayed in their courses. The earth is vast and weighty, its mountains and rivers marking the boundaries of each region. The alternation of cold and heat gives shape to the seasons of the year; through changes in Yin-Yang, the spirits and deities become manifest. Heaven and Earth bring forth and nurture the myriad things, and there must be spirits to govern and protect them, assisting the Supreme Emperor and sheltering the people.

The sage kings of antiquity established norms and prescribed the rites for sacrifices. They examined the records of the spirits, set up liturgies to avert calamity and pray for blessings, and marked distinctions in rank through carriages, robes, and ceremony. They adapted their instruction to different circumstances, taking subtle and wondrous influence as their foundation. Revering virtue and repaying meritorious service is a practice of long standing.

Mount Lu’s Taiping Xingguo Abbey is a temple dedicated to the Nine Heavens Messengers, celestial deities in Daoism. During the Kaiyuan era of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, a response from the spirits brought a revelation from a true deity. Wishing to go and pay homage at Qingdu, the abode of the Celestial Emperor, he consulted a Daoist master. With Mount Lu as a numinous mountain, construction of an immortal’s dwelling began. Later, as times changed and unrest spread across the land, people believed the spirits were awaiting the right moment; in the end, their hidden design came to fulfillment under a flourishing dynasty.

The founding emperor of our dynasty, Emperor Taizu, rose in accord with Heaven’s mandate, pacified the realm, and ruled the myriad states. His renown for civilizing instruction spread far and wide, and his beneficence reached every quarter. Mount Lu, a place of numinous beauty, stands in a strategic region and is revered by the spirits of every land. Emperor Taizong received Heaven’s mandate and ascended the throne. He worked vigorously to transform customs and comfort the people. All neglected institutions were restored, and even those previously omitted from the sacrificial rites were provided for. He turned his attention to this palace where the spirits gathered, regarding it as a place to pray for blessings. He therefore issued a special decree granting it an official name, regularizing its sacrificial rites, and assigning it an era name.

The present emperor has received Heaven’s mandate and nurtures the people. Following the great achievements of the emperors of past generations, he has laid the foundations for a lasting and secure dynasty. He places the cultivation of himself and the governance of the state above all, and encourages customs of simplicity and sincerity. Though occupied with the many demands of government, he remains diligent and concerned. His sacred virtue grows ever greater; his talents are exceptional by nature, his literary works shine with brilliance, and his policies win the allegiance of the realm. He is ever ready to hear advice and reverently fulfills the duties of filial piety. Auspicious signs have appeared one after another throughout the regions, and blessings have descended far and wide. They are too numerous for the histories to record in full, and even the learned have seldom heard of their like. These events have long been told among the people: those who dig wells and till the fields may not know the emperor’s beneficence, but those who watch the court and take note of the realm have never lacked records in the histories.

Thus, people from within and beyond the court came in succession, and people of many peoples arrived in the capital, presenting the emperor with accounts of what they had witnessed in their regions. They held that honoring the auspicious signs bestowed by Heaven and responding to the spirits’ favor were indeed matters of great ritual importance; yet Heaven’s intent cannot be fully expressed in writing. Though the rite had first received the emperor’s approval, in the end it also accorded with the people’s wishes. The emperor therefore led the ceremonial procession, put the ranks in order, and made an inspection of the sites for the Feng and Shan sacrifices, performing grand rites. He then arranged a solemn ceremony on the banks of the Fen River, offering his utmost sincerity to Heaven and Earth, making the achievements of his ancestors manifest, and bringing the sacred observances to completion. Could this be merely like the ancient emperors’ distant worship at the Bamboo Palace or their sacrifice to the spirits at Mount Tongbai, where they followed the wind?

The auspicious signs sent down by Heaven have already appeared, and the court’s beneficence has already spread far and wide. Even at small shrines in mountain caves and ravines, and at the sites of worthy figures recorded in the histories, the court has sought to establish additional sacrifices and forbid the cutting of trees. How much more, then, does this place deserve such care, since it enshrines an important assistant to the Supreme Emperor and a deity who oversees the many true immortals? The court consulted the calendar and did not seek a separate divination for the rebuilding; the cultivators, too, kept to the old regulations. The emperor then ordered his attendants to seek skilled artisans, with the expenses supplied by the government, and the work was completed without delay. The palace is vast in scale, with lofty halls and spacious beams and pillars. Its painted decorations have been renewed, presenting a splendid sight; the sacred seat and ceremonial objects gleam within the hall, while immortals in rosy cloud robes and starry crowns stand arrayed in attendance.

Daoist priests come to the abbey to pay homage and cultivate the Way. At night, red lamps burn on the star altar, and it seems one can hear the assembly of sages arriving from afar on clouds. At each of the Three Primordial Festivals—the Upper, Middle, and Lower Primordial observances, among the important Daoist festivals—people follow the rhythms of the six Qi in harmony, respectfully perform the liturgy, and arrange the Zhaijiao altar with solemn care. They pray for the dynasty’s enduring prosperity and for the people’s health and peace, for abundant harvests, for blessings to gather, and for all to enjoy wealth and long life.

This splendid palace is a fitting place to further proclaim the spirits’ awe-inspiring power. Mountains and rivers surround it on every side, and routes by land and water converge from all directions. It is truly a blessed site for immortals to dwell, like a gateway between Heaven and Earth. Thus, recording its numinous manifestations and engraving them on enduring stone to instruct later generations follows an established precedent. My learning is shallow, and I am unworthy of my place among the emperor’s close attendants. Yet, having fortunately received his favor, I respectfully compose this inscription.

The ruler receives the Mandate of Heaven, ascends the imperial throne, governs all under Heaven, and oversees every affair of state. His grace reaches the common people, and his commands spread like the wind. Following the Way of Heaven, he bestows benefits upon the people. For a long time, I have had the good fortune to receive his sacred favor; I respectfully compose this inscription:

The ruler receives the Mandate of Heaven, ascends the imperial throne, governs all under Heaven, and oversees every affair of state. His grace reaches the common people, and his commands spread like the wind. Following the Way of Heaven, he bestows benefits upon the people. He therefore appoints officials at every level to serve as examples to the people, and builds a magnificent temple to make his fine Virtue manifest. He prays for the people’s good fortune, so that they may be spared calamity. Each official fulfills his own duties, while the spirits are also charged with protecting their respective regions.

This sacred mountain rises high into the clouds. It is a place protected by the Highest Perfected Ones, revered deities of Daoism, and a celestial lodge where immortals dwell. Rivers and mountains encircle it, and its waterside plants and trees grow luxuriantly. Here, evil spirits are subdued and dark, malign influences brought into balance. The fortune of the Dao rises and declines; now the times have turned toward peace and prosperity. Joy and blessings extend throughout the land, and the teachings are honored beyond the bounds of ordinary society.

Cultivators of the Dao dwell here and practice with diligence. They uphold the True Writings—the scriptures, registers, talismans, and other sacred texts of Daoism—to avert calamities and evil influences. Though the unseen workings of fate have their appointed limits, here one sees spirits and human beings meeting and communicating. An envoy came south under orders, and the people gathered by the river. The halls were adorned, and the sacred images installed with solemn dignity; red ornamentation gleamed across tier upon tier of steps. The lofty ridge of the roof looked down upon the main road, plaques hung high, and splendid eaves shaded the courtyard. The work was completed quickly, and no one counted the labor given by the people.

The Highest Perfected One, reverent and majestic, looks down upon this newly rebuilt celestial palace. The rosy clouds seem to pause in their passage, and the bright moon to halt its course. The spirits dwell here in peace, manifesting their efficacy. Customs flourish as a result, and the people become harmonious and sincere. May the imperial house endure for ten thousand generations; may all things flourish, with spring in every season.

Record of the Interview Hall

Written by Your Servant Xiong Ben, Court Gentleman for Audiences, Superintendent of Taiping Xingguo Abbey, Commandant of Qingcao, and bearer of the bestowed Purple-Gold Fish-Bag.

The plaque was inscribed by Your Servant Cai Yanqing, Court Gentleman for Attendance, Academician of the Dragon Library, Prefect of Hongzhou, concurrently Commander of the Jiangxi Circuit, and founding earl of Nanyang County.

On the yiyou day in the first month of the fourth year of Yuanfeng, the Emperor issued an edict to the Secretariat and Chancellery, announcing that the Nine Heavens Inspector Envoy at the Temple of Great Peace and Prosperity on Mount Lu in Jiangzhou would be elevated to the title “Perfected Lord of the Nine Heavens Inspector, Responding to the Origin and Protecting the Mandate.” That same day, the Secretariat ordered the relevant offices to carry out the matter. Three days later, on the jihai day, I, Jiao, acting Transport Circuit Judicial Commissioner for Jiangnan East Circuit, respectfully brought the imperial incense and prayer text bestowed by the Emperor to offer in sacrifice.

On the wuxu day in the fourth month, Liao Wei, a palace attendant serving in the Inner Palace Attendants Office, was ordered to deliver the imperial calligraphy, hall plaque, immortal robes, and ceremonial banners and insignia. These were installed and presented for worship in the shrine. The court also bestowed green and yellow documents used in Daoist purification rites, and a Daoist sacrificial rite was performed at the altar hall for two days and nights. The imperial calligraphy, immortal robes, and other gifts were stored in a precious casket, spread with embroidered brocade. Clouds and cranes were painted in gold dust on the red robe and skirt. The hall plaque was inscribed in gold, with dragons, phoenixes, and flowers that seemed to fly beside the characters. The colorful banners and auspicious insignia were splendidly decorated, all made in the palace and unlike anything ever seen in the world.

The Daoist community at the Temple of Great Peace, together with officials of every rank from within and beyond Jiujiang, rejoiced and hurried about offering congratulations—monks and Daoists, young and old alike. They then purified themselves in body and mind, held a celebration before the shrine, and performed a Daoist sacrificial rite for eight days and nights. They said: “A temple was first built on this mountain in the xinwei year of the Kaiyuan era of the Tang, and three hundred and fifty-one years have passed since then. The deity has accumulated blessings and bestowed kindness, and its numinous efficacy has been manifest. In accordance with the rites of our dynasty, local officials attend the shrine and make offerings in spring and autumn. At each suburban sacrifice, held once every three years, an envoy is also sent to present an offering. In the past, a jeweled crown, rosy robes, a ceremonial jade tablet, and shoes and socks were bestowed in gratitude to the deity; the favor shown was already great.

“Now, by a fortunate meeting brought about by Heaven, the deity has secretly aided the sovereign’s intentions. The court has revived a ceremony long left unperformed and conferred a higher title, with rites of great solemnity and adornments of great splendor. Nothing of this kind has been done in the dynasties of the past. The edict has already set out the intent to honor and commend the deity. But unless the names of the gifts and the order of precedence for the sacrificial rites are inscribed on metal and stone, how can they be made visible to all under Heaven and passed down for ten thousand generations? The court has judged that I, who once served in the Hanlin Academy, now happen to oversee this temple, and should record this great occasion.”

I privately consider that His Majesty has brought glory to his ancestors through great achievements and moved the spirits through the utmost sincerity and filial devotion. He remains vigilant and reverent day and night, reflecting on how to receive the blessings bestowed by Heaven, Earth, and the spirits. Accordingly, the Emperor has examined and settled the rites, corrected the system of sacrifices, gathered the views of ministers and scholars, and made the final decision himself. All spirits associated with mountains, rivers, and other sacred places, whether ancient or recent, near or far, have been assigned their proper rank in the sacrificial order. The altars and grounds for sacrifice, as well as the jade and silk offerings, have all been put in order and adorned.

How much more so for this mountain, the dwelling place of perfected immortals and a source of blessings. It was given its proper name as far back as the time of the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan, and later received its official charge from the Most High. Yet this fine title had long remained unrecognized. Now His Majesty’s profound intent has issued a bright edict honoring it; this is truly extraordinary. When sincerity is directed toward a purpose, auspicious signs follow: the envoy traveled south, and the deity’s radiance reached to the clouds; at night, faint sounds came from the immortal hall, and the divine music was astonishing. All manner of blessings and auspicious signs will gradually appear from this time onward. The court is soon to perform the Feng and Shan sacrifices on Mount Tai and inscribe praise on the central peak, singing of its vast beneficence and an unprecedented age of flourishing. Though I am far away, I too can praise the sovereign’s virtuous rule, like the people in the song of the farmers who struck the earth. I am fortunate to take part in this grand ceremony; recording and praising it in writing is my duty. How could I refuse? I therefore bow respectfully and offer this poem:

The bright and boundless heavens enfold the land of China; generation after generation, the Great Song has inherited illustrious virtue. The sagely and enlightened ruler has succeeded to the honored imperial throne. His literary talent, military strategy, courage, and wisdom are all gifts from Heaven. At ease in court, he consults the classics and puts the affairs of state in order, bringing even hidden talents into prominence. His commands spread like wind and resound like thunder, while his bounty reaches far and wide. The four quarters follow his lead, and even distant peoples beyond the frontiers come to submit. The climate is harmonious and the seasons peaceful; the people flourish and thrive, while spirits and ghosts each remain in their proper place.

On a lofty mountain stands open the abode of the immortals, who command five hundred spirit officials. They travel through the human world, descending to investigate its deepest and most hidden places. They reward the good and punish the wicked, their purposes beyond measure. On a dazzling jade register appear the emperor’s edicts; the deities are also granted glorious titles, giving them renown unequaled across past and present. Pepper broth and cassia wine are laid out before a table adorned with fine jade. Lei—perhaps the name of an offering or ceremonial object—carriages, horses, and wind steeds arrive one after another. The exalted perfected beings of Heaven gladly receive the offerings, and all the spirits find their proper places; auspicious signs and blessings abound like mountains. May the Son of Heaven reign for ten thousand years and all under Heaven be at peace. May the Fengshan investiture rites be held, and his achievements be carved in metal and stone to endure for later generations. May his descendants continue without end and the dynasty’s mandate last long. Though the people do not know whence these blessings come, may they dwell in a realm of long life and happiness.

Record of Enshrining the Jade Register

In the fourth year of Yuanfeng, Emperor Shenzong said: “Auspicious signs and blessings abound like mountains. May the Son of Heaven reign for ten thousand years and all under Heaven be at peace. May the Fengshan investiture rites be held, and his achievements be carved in metal and stone to endure for later generations. May his descendants continue without end and the dynasty’s mandate last long. Though the people do not know whence these blessings come, may they dwell in a realm of long life and happiness.”

In the fourth year of Yuanfeng (1081), Emperor Shenzong issued an edict: “The Nine Heavens Investigating Emissary of the Taiping Xingguo Palace on Mount Lu in Jiangzhou is a revered deity of the celestial realm, capable of bringing blessings to the world. Though successive generations have bestowed on him grand titles and praise, they have not worshipped him with due care. This falls far short of the gratitude owed for divine kindness. He is now elevated to the title ‘Perfected Lord Who Responds to the Primordial and Protects the Mandate.’” The emperor sent Liao Wei, a palace attendant of the Inner Palace Attendants’ Office, to deliver an imperial letter and a golden investiture plaque, and bestowed a hall plaque and sacrificial address.

Earlier, when Tao Zhixian, a Daoist priest at the palace, cleared weeds and opened up land for cultivation while building the palace compound, he dug a clay jar out of the ground. After breaking it and filling it with earth, he found that the earth had five colors. He also discovered a copper coin inscribed with the four characters “Responds to the Primordial and Protects the Mandate.” At the time, no one knew what this portended. Two years later, the emperor issued an edict conferring a title, and it happened to match the words on the coin. Liao Wei then took the coin and presented it to the court.

Respectfully, the emperor occupies the supreme position under Heaven, while the myriad gods each have their own duties. Heaven reveals its intent to the emperor, and signs in the unseen realm accord with it. What a splendid event! In the fifth year of Zhenghe (1115), the sixteenth year of Emperor Huizong’s reign, he remembered his ancestors and followed the Dao in making offerings to the gods. Deities and ancestors alike were able to enjoy their sacrifices in peace. As he surveyed the four quarters, there was no deity he failed to honor. He then turned his gaze southward and thought of the Perfected Lord Who Responds to the Primordial and Protects the Mandate, who had descended to the palace precincts and accompanied emperors at their side. Although Emperor Shenzong had already established an honorific title for the Perfected Lord, the investiture documents and ceremony had not yet been completed. Now that Huizong had succeeded to the throne, he ordered the officials in charge to complete the investiture ceremony in accordance with proper rites.

The emperor sent Huang Jing, a palace attendant of the Inner Palace Attendants’ Office and a Gentleman of Martial Excellence, to bring a jade investiture tablet to the palace. The text named the emperor and included the words “We respectfully bow twice before speaking,” showing the utmost reverence. Local officials, the county magistrate, and the shrine official knelt and rose, then carefully presented the offerings. The tablet was carved from fine jade and strung with gold bands. It was laid on brocade and adorned with painted decoration and metal clasps. Its radiance dazzled the eye; its craftsmanship and splendor were beyond words. The Daoist priests watched the glorious ceremony with eyes wide open, cheering and exulting, their faces alight with excitement as they hurried to tell one another. When the ceremony was over, the jade tablet was placed in a separate hall.

A year later, the shrine official, Minister Chu, came to preside over the sacrifices. About two hundred Daoist priests, dressed in robes and wearing Daoist caps, arrived on horseback and said, “The present emperor follows the intent of the Dao and De, honors the teachings of Huang-Lao—the Daoist tradition that reveres the Yellow Emperor and Laozi—and worships the gods with reverence, restoring rites long neglected. The ceremony is grand and its literary elegance shines forth; it is enough to surpass earlier generations and bring glory to those yet to come. But unless these deeds are engraved on metal and stone, the emperor’s might and virtue cannot be made manifest or shown to posterity. And if we seek someone of profound literary cultivation, who could be better suited to write about them than you?” Minister Chu replied, “The Daoist priests are right.”

I consulted the Records of Strange Events and learned that in the nineteenth year of Kaiyuan (731), Emperor Xuanzong dreamed of a deity in vermilion robes and a golden crown, arriving in a carriage. The deity said, “I am the Nine Heavens Investigating Emissary. A shrine should be built for me at the northwest corner of Mount Lu.” The next day, the deity appeared again in the courtyard. Xuanzong ordered Wu Daozi to paint his image and sent a palace attendant with the portrait to build a shrine on the northern side of Mount Lu. Xuanzong personally inscribed the hall plaque in “twisted seal script,” an ancient form of seal writing, and named it the Hall of the Nine Heavens Emissary. The words “Investigating Emissary” were absent from the plaque, which nevertheless remains in existence. Many auspicious signs appeared when the temple was first built. Records of these are found in Li Mian’s temple inscription, Pan Guan’s Record of Auspicious Signs, Zhang Jingshu’s Continuation of the Record of Yang, and Chen Shunyu’s Record of Mount Lu. For this reason, people have believed that worship of the Emissary on Mount Lu began in the Tang dynasty and that auspicious signs first appeared in the time of Xuanzong.

I, Minister Chu, believe that this account is inaccurate. The Diagram of the True Forms of the Five Sacred Peaks records that each of the Five Sacred Peaks has subsidiary mountains. Song, Tai, Hua, and Heng are respectively assisted by mountains such as Shaoshi, Wudang, Luofu, Canggu, Difei, Nüji, Hefeng, and Baodu, which divide responsibility for the four peaks. Only Hengshan stands alone, high and without a subsidiary mountain. Thus, when the Yellow Emperor toured the four quarters and traveled south to the banks of the Yangtze, he petitioned the Supreme Lord and established Qianshan and Huoshan as the reserve lords of the Southern Peak. He also enfeoffed Mount Qingcheng as the Elder and Mount Lu as the Emissary. From this we can see that the title “Emissary” existed from an early date.

Although the Diagram of the True Forms of the Five Sacred Peaks arose in the medieval period, successive generations of occult practitioners inherited and transmitted it, and it was compiled as a book during the Eastern Jin. Its records should not be lightly dismissed. During the Kaiyuan era, Sima Ziwei, a Daoist priest of Mount Tiantai, held that Shangqing Perfected Beings had descended upon each of the Five Sacred Peaks to oversee their affairs, and accordingly urged that a shrine to a Perfected Lord be built at each peak. His view probably came from the Diagram of the True Forms of the Five Sacred Peaks. An edict during the Kaiyuan era also appointed Daoist priests to oversee sacrifices at the temple of the Elder of Mount Qingcheng and the temple of the Emissary on Mount Lu, and directed that they be treated according to the standards for shrines to the Perfected Lords of the Five Sacred Peaks. The establishment of a shrine to the Emissary on Mount Lu may therefore have been proposed by Sima Ziwei. As for how the deity appeared in a dream, that cannot be known.

Taken together, the various biographical accounts indicate that the Emissary of Mount Lu was a Perfected Being of lofty virtue who guarded a renowned mountain, and was also an assisting deity of Zhurong. Accounts of the Emissary deity existed before the Eastern Jin; the title “Nine Heavens Investigating Emissary” was added in later times. The temple to the Emissary on the north side of Mount Lu was first built during the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang. Under the Southern Tang, the temple was renamed the Palace of Penetrating Mystery. It was not until the second year of Taiping Xingguo (977), in this dynasty, that it was given the name Taiping Xingguo Palace after the reign title of the time.

People have been misled by shallow, vulgar inscriptions on stone and have confused them with tales of the strange. Without examining the evidence in depth, they have got the facts wrong. I have set down the full course of events here to dispel the doubts of those who come after.

The stele was erected on the tenth day of the eleventh month of the first year of Chonghe (1118). Written by Hong Chu, Court Gentleman for Audience, Superintendent of Taiping Xingguo Palace, and recipient of a fish-shaped tally pouch; the seal-script heading was inscribed by Shi Qi Yu, a subject dwelling among the common folk. The stele was erected by the Daoist priests Chen Sigong, Tao Zhichang, Zhang Anzhu, Shen Jibin, Li Zhonggong, Xiao Minxiu, and Gao Zhidao.

May Heaven protect the foundations of our Great Song. The enlightened Son of Heaven has inherited the imperial succession and reveres the Mandate of Heaven. Within the palace, he has established an altar to honor Heaven and set out charts for observing the heavens. Wherever he may be, he never forgets to pay reverence to Heaven. Whatever can be done to pray to Heaven for the people, the emperor keeps in mind: he makes virtue manifest and performs the sacrifices with care, so that the myriad deities each fulfill their proper charge.

Long ago, at the Taiping Xingguo Palace in Jiangzhou, people worshipped the Envoy of the Nine Heavens, who by Heaven’s command inspects the human world. His efficacy was renowned, and emperors of successive generations praised him, granting him the title “Perfected Lord Who Responds to the Origin and Safeguards Destiny.” Later, an imperial edict added the words “Wondrous Transformation,” and the emperor personally inscribed the three characters “Pavilion of the Three Pure Ones” and bestowed them upon the temple. The imperial brushwork shone across the sky like a dragon’s markings, and the edict illuminated the world like a phoenix proclamation. People gazed upon it and recited it, its fame resounding in every direction. The occasion was truly grand.

Heaven attained the One and became clear and bright; it is soundless and formless, reaching the highest state. Daoist teaching holds that the upper palace is Jade Clarity, the middle palace Supreme Clarity, and the lower palace Great Clarity. Perhaps Dao was originally a single primordial Qi, which later divided into three levels; thus, in a realm beyond clear perception, these forms appeared. Daoist temples throughout the realm venerate the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing). Taiping Xingguo Palace stands on the northern slope of Mount Lu, where people pray for the removal of calamities such as banditry and strange disasters. The court sends officials bearing incense to make offerings, and the rites are exceptionally grand. Prayers made there are often answered.

I have reflected that Heaven sees all things and watches over the human world with majesty, rewarding good and punishing evil, diminishing those who are full and benefiting those who are humble. This must require divine officials to serve as Heaven’s eyes and ears and inspect the human world. Surely this is the Envoy’s charge. The Lord on High commands him to examine the four quarters, just as a ruler sends ministers to travel throughout the realm. The turning of the four seasons and the growth of all things ultimately serve to protect the people. Heaven’s protection of the people is without end, and the ruler exerts himself fully in praying to Heaven on their behalf. This is the purpose behind the emperor’s gift of the plaque bearing the words “Pavilion of the Three Pure Ones.”

The Pavilion of the Three Pure Ones was completed on the Jiazi day in the sixth month of summer in the Renchen year of the Shaoding era. The emperor bestowed the plaque on the Jiazi day in the intercalary twelfth month of the Gengzi year of the Jiaxi era. In every prefecture, temples honoring the Envoy developed from shrines into temples and then into palaces, from the Kaiyuan era of the Tang dynasty through our own dynasty. Their towers and halls gathered like clouds and rosy mists, and stood in rows like stars; the fine titles bestowed by successive generations continued to multiply, making them a spectacle rarely seen anywhere in the realm. Yet no hall had been devoted specifically to the worship of the Three Pure Ones. Xiong Shouzhong, who oversaw the palace’s affairs, judged this inconsistent with the rites of repaying one’s origins and tracing things back to their source. He therefore had a lofty pavilion built before the Hall of the Perfected Lord, dedicated to the Three Pure Ones. It took eight years to complete. The pavilion is grand and ornate, lofty and spacious, in keeping with Daoist regulations. The sovereign deities are enshrined at the front, with attendant gods arranged behind them; the setting is solemn and dignified, its ritual order complete and its arrangement fitting.

The Perfected Lord’s reputation for miraculous efficacy has spread throughout the realm. Since the emperor crossed south, the state has regarded Mount Lu as equal in importance to the Five Sacred Peaks. People come here to pray and make offerings whenever they seek help in matters of war or face the yearly disasters of flood and drought. I now wish to have this account engraved in stone, to proclaim the will of the Lord on High and praise the emperor’s grace, so that it may be passed down for ten thousand generations. My family has lived at the foot of Mount Lu for generations, and I am now fortunate to serve in the court’s Hanlin Academy, where wielding the brush to compose a panegyric is my duty. With reverent bows, I record this matter and offer a poem:

Mount Lu is majestic and beautiful, rising as though beside the Northern Dipper and answering Mount Heng. It stands guard over the southeast. The people look up to this renowned mountain, where spirits also dwell. Tales of auspicious signs have arisen here since ancient times. Heaven sees all things clearly and pities the people, looking down to seek their wishes lest any be overlooked. The spirits were charged with this task. Riding clouds and wind-steeds, they journey throughout the world to inspect and inquire. They act swiftly without seeming hurried, and perceive what is right without showing it. Though Heaven speaks no words, the people no longer suffer and cry out in pain; this place has thus become a land where blessings are bestowed.

Sagely rulers of every age have reverently offered sacrifices to the spirits and bestowed honors and blessings upon them. When the people make their pleas, the spirits respond; this is the very mark of enlightened rule. The sagely ruler serves them with single-minded reverence, and even when the spirits remain unseen, they are always present. Who would dare fail to show respect? So precious images were made and golden plaques bestowed by imperial decree, granting the spirits an honored title. The title hangs high like the sun and moon, adding luster even to mountains and rivers. A deep and stately main hall was built behind, and a new pavilion erected in front, as though the sovereign sat in court and the ministers looked up in reverence.

At each appointed season, officials don their caps and sashes, gather to worship the spirits, convey the people’s wishes to them, and pray that they protect the sage ruler. The people support their ruler and wish that his blessings endure as long as Heaven itself. May Heaven protect our Great Song, and may its descendants flourish and multiply. The people bow low in gratitude and pray that these deeds be recorded on a stele. The attendants then carve these words, so that the noble reputation may endure for generations.

“Palace Record” means a written account of the deeds and history of a Daoist temple or palace.

In the Qingming season of the Wuyin year of Jiading (1218), the Daoist Bai Yuchan of Huotong Scenic Grotto-Heaven in Fuzhou burned incense and paid reverence at the Terrace of the Imperial Censors of the Nine Heavens. A short while later, the local official Chen Zhihe entertained him with wine. By the time I arrived at Yuhua, I was already tipsy, my steps unsteady, yet I went on as the moment invited and did not decline. The Daoists Chen Shoumo and Chen Ruyi were ordered to ask me to write an account of this palace temple. How could I refuse? So I wrote this record.

Jiujiang is an ancient commandery, and Mount Lu has stood for all ages. It is a grotto-heaven where immortals chant and cultivate the Dao, and the residence of the divine spirits of Ziyuan Jingyao. Treasure halls in the Court of Lang are half hidden among vermilion cliffs and emerald walls. Immortals in feathered robes and rainbow garments mingle with blue oxen and white deer. Gibbons call from the Jade Ravine, while cranes cry over the fields of spirit mushrooms. This place joins Mount Heng, and its clouds reach Mount Qian and Mount Wan. Golden attendants, crowned with the moon, carry letters between Magu and Hezao; bearing treasure staffs on the wind, they make their way to immortal banquets at Mount Weiyu and Mount Kuocang. When flowers of jade bloom, vermilion phoenixes alight on Five Elders Peak. In the deep, cold Jade Well, a white dragon surges forth like the waters of the Three Gorges.

Ancient pines and strange rocks encircle the winding river, which reaches far toward Mount Luofu. Old bamboo and spirit plants gather around Mount Sanmao and Mount Dadi. To the north lies the Purple Tenuity Palace; to the west, Mount Qingcheng. The numinous energies of Chu and the High Heavens converge here, and the celestial regions belong to Han and Jiao. Among the peaks are three hundred and sixty rocky grottoes. The streams and mountains are spare, secluded, and cold, and their sights are too many to count.

In the Zhou, Kang Zixiao wore a thunder seal in the forest; in the Jin, Xu Jingyang rode an iron boat up to the treetops. Liu Yue secluded himself in a stone chamber on Mount Chicheng, where twin gates gathered purple-gold radiance. Dong Feng planted red apricot trees east of the stream, and his fame reached the heavens. Cai and Li bore a jade coffin up to Heaven; Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin opened a golden coffer and passed the Dao on to one another. The waterfall drenched Liu Huncheng’s robes, while the sound of Tiger Creek seemed to wash away Lu Jianji’s verses. When Tao Yuanming sobered up, he planted a lotus from the Western Heaven with his own hands in a Buddhist temple. Wang Xizhi, though busy with his writing, also knew to cherish the season’s bamboo shoots and greens. I climbed steep mountains to seek traces of the worthy of old, cleared ancient steles from secluded places, and made out the surviving inscriptions. I wanted to take up my brush and record the splendor of this immortal palace.

On the twenty-first day of the mid-autumn month in the nineteenth year of the Kaiyuan era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (731), the emperor specially dispatched an envoy and ordered a new shrine to be built for the investigation of divine affairs. Its origins go back to a miraculous manifestation. In the splendid palace precincts, a golden sound startled one from a half-waking dream. The Celestial Lord of Divine Empyrean arrived on a jade horse to greet him as day was breaking. In the Palace of Numinous Talismans, the Lord leaned on a desk and delivered instructions to the assembled officials. Before the Hanyuan Hall, cloud cranes circled in the sky, their radiance shining in every direction. Standards and ceremonial escorts spread out like rosy clouds in a clear sky. Immortals arrived on wind-driven horses and cloud chariots, while flower-rain drifted down among auspicious clouds.

The pearl-clad officials of Shangqing held the talisman of the Azure Dragon who inspects the troops; the jade immortals of Taiwei administered the seal of the Golden Tiger that flies through clouds. The twelve maidens of the streams rode jade turtles and crossed golden whales; the eighteen river gods drove brocade-scaled jiaolong and rode emerald shen. The Three Officials held the registers and examined the charts of Heaven, Earth, mountains, and seas. The spirits of the Six Ding carried weapons and guarded the records of the sun, moon, and stars. Guardian spirits stood on either side, their weapons of gold and iron gleaming coldly. Divine generals escorted the chariot before and behind, their brocade banners and spears shining in daylight. The Four Marshals commanded the Thunder Duke and the Mother of Lightning; the gods of the Five Sacred Mountains arrayed the Wind Earl and the Rain Master. The local gods of the nine provinces administered the documents of the altars of soil and grain and the city gods, while the Dragon Lords of the eight seas held the registers of dragons, snakes, fish, and turtles. The God of Fate guarded the chariot, and the spirit who governed prohibitions attended at its side.

Flutes and drums rang across the sky, and the immortal music seemed like the nine movements of a celestial performance. Green bamboo pipes echoed through the deep night, mingling with the sound of the palace water clock. Palace women leaned against the hibiscus flowers to listen; immortal attendants danced upon peonies and offered wine. Wonderful music drifted through the haze of mist and clouds, and faint strains of immortal song could be heard before the procession. The Celestial Lord ascended to the Heaven of Supreme Clarity and Primordial Unity, where he personally received the command of the Five Numinous Emperors: the Venerable One was to guard Shu and, by order of the Mysterious Mandate, govern Shuzhou; he was also to establish the administration of the Nine Heavens’ Censorate in the northwest of Mount Lu, in the Kanglu region.

After seventeen generations, the Celestial Lord would extend his protection to living beings on a grand scale. In only a day or two, timber was brought to the site of the palace temple. Once the axes had shaped it, the palace walls could be built. The Celestial Lord observed the myriad spirits and governed the Four Offices. This matter concerned the workings of Yin-Yang and the order of Heaven and Earth. Before the words were finished, the painter Hao Cen had already recorded them; while the event was still fresh, Li Ci also entered it into the histories. The Celestial Lord departed in an instant in a chariot drawn by qilin, soaring away so swiftly that no one could catch him. The people’s single thought reached the spirits, and all the officials came to gaze and bow in reverence.

Now the prefect of Xunyang, together with military officers and clerks, has raised funds to build an altar and shrine. He also sent the Daoist Meng Xianzhen and four others from the Divine Capital to burn incense and cultivate the Dao. Though there had been no rain, the river suddenly rose, and the water god brought timber for the main hall. At noon, the wind reversed and carried away the houses where the local people lived. Materials for plastering the walls and painting them with vermilion could be found by digging the earth; bricks, tiles, stone, and clay seemed to have been sent by the spirits. At night, immortal lamps appeared, and immortals could be glimpsed and lost among dark clouds. At dawn, paper offerings whirled through the air, as though countless ghosts were passing back and forth at a wild ferry crossing. After the wooden images entered the shrine, they began to sweat; light also shone around the painted pillars. Dragons carved on the vermilion towers seemed ready to leap into flight, their shadows reflected alongside the clouds. The fine, interlaced mandarin-duck patterns on the emerald tiles, touched by moonlight, looked like flower shadows.

The work was completed in autumn after a year’s effort. Pilgrims came in great numbers from every direction. People from distant places crossed mountains and seas, traveling thousands of miles to arrive. Lamps and candles shone like stars in the ritual grounds, and even now the incense burns brightly. People from the Jiang-Huai region offered gold and silver, and the crowds came and went without pause. People from Fujian and Zhejiang brought incense and flowers; their sleeves stretched like curtains, and their sweat fell like rain. Look again at the traces left by the immortals: they face Sacred Governance Peak, and the site’s protective hill extends in the distance toward Xinhuang. The mountains rise like cranes soaring into the sky, while in front they take the shape of fish swimming upstream. According to the geomantic directions, the northeast joins the east, where the Greedy Wolf star is positioned, along with the Heavenly Physician and Jade Rabbit. The southeast turns toward the northwest and enters the land of Xichen, the homeland of the Constellation of the Quail’s Head and the Golden Dragon. To the west, mountains coil like frost-bright swords and iron lions; the eastern peak rises like an incense burner and stone cauldron. The terrain commands two or three prefectures, with hundreds of miles visible in every direction.

This palace temple has had many names over the years. In the Tianbao era it was called a temple; in the Shengyuan era it was elevated to a prefectural seat. In the Taiping era it became an observatory, and in the Xuanhe era a palace. It has manifested its numinous power since ancient times, while successive generations have preserved its traditions and repeatedly changed its name. After Emperor Taizong of Song ascended the throne, he bestowed honors upon it; Emperor Zhenzong also granted edicts and a golden plaque. During the Xingguo era, local officials were ordered to conduct Zhaijiao rites in spring and autumn. In the Zhenghe era, the spirit’s honorific title was entered into the jade registers three times. During the Xiangfu era, an order granting tax relief was issued; in the Tianxi era, a Daoist ordination certificate was bestowed. The court sent three hundred jin of imperial incense each month and held five or six state Zhaijiao rites every year. Golden rainbows and jade edicts brought continuous favor; phoenix-decorated commands and writings adorned with Kui-star patterns also gave added splendor to the inscriptions. The spirit received offerings, and its fame spread through the realm of immortals. When envoys escorted boats, their horses’ jade-colored manes wound around branches of flowers, an auspicious sign. When imperial envoys presented gifts, colored clouds accompanied their canopies, as though arriving in chariots to the sound of jingling bells.

During the Yuanfeng era, local officials found copper cash in an earthen jar. Emperor Shenzong issued an edict conferring an honorific title on the spirit at Jinting. Its four characters matched the portent, and people at the time found this strange. During the Jianyan era, when Zhang Yu was subdued, a dragon horse appeared in the blue sky. During the Kai Xi era, when Hao Xi was attacked, news of victory reached the court. The spirit’s majesty grew more evident, and its blessings grew more abundant. This Perfected Lord is as noble as the Vermilion Emperor of Jade Void and embodies the teaching of the Red Emperor of the Golden Gate. His spirit is pure and refined; in his hand he holds the green jade tablet of Great Primordiality. His appearance is dignified and beautiful, and he wears a robe of ninefold radiance and crimson empyrean silk. On his head is a golden dawn crown shaped like the crescent moon, and on his feet are vermilion sandals of the Heavenly Wind. His robes and sleeves shine like jade; he bears five seals and holds a white precious sword across his body. He transforms into the Jade-Refined Fire Emperor and into the True Lord of the Southern Heights. He is the sovereign of the Southern Flame Emperor; at times he also governs the affairs of the sun, touring the Three Realms and commanding the myriad gods.

The Nine Dragons of the First Emperor, the Nine Capitals of the Middle Emperor, and the Primordial Capital of the Lower Emperor all became his envoys. The True Primordial of the Yellow Emperor, the Primordial One of Emperor Yao, and the Great One of Emperor Shun are also his true forms. In the Xia court he was called the Spirit of the Azure Waters; in the time of King Mu of Zhou, the Envoy of the Celestial Numinous. The Tang began the record of his deeds, and the Song greatly honored him. In the morning light, jade trees shine on the lovely peaks, where it seems one might gather branches of the immortals. At sunset, pearl halls glow, and beside their flying beams it seems one might pluck sprigs of cassia. Gao Yunju once recited the Dongxuan Scriptures in Qiantang and personally received the spirit’s descent. Gong Qingchang entered the registers at Xiang’s residence and recounted the spirit’s power in detail. Wu Dadi enlarged the vermilion walls; in the Baoda era of Tang, the black and red buildings were repaired. In the midst of this, the palace temple was caught in the fires of war, and most of it fell into ruin. Later, people worked tirelessly to rebuild it, restoring its cloud-wreathed splendor and magnificent halls.

Within the palace temple is a Fangzhang Hall, and outside it are three gates. The buildings are tall and richly gilded. The Halls of the Three Officials and the Four Sages flank the main palace; the Hall of the Daoist Register and the Hall of Embracing the One are screened among the quiet rooms. The Mountain Light Pavilion and the Pavilion of Distinction vie with one another, while the Vermilion Mound Tower and the Jingyang Tower each possess their own refinement. The treasure repository holds scriptures like the celestial archive of books; the splendid courtyards are used to pray for blessings, and patterns of the stars shine upon the human world. One plaque reads “Clouds Have No Mind,” while the sound of the spring is like the sound of rain. The painted walls of the long galleries depict spirits in red robes and blue-green crowns. Purple trees and yellow spirit mushrooms grow beside the whitewashed walls on all four sides. The granaries are full, and the tea in the storehouses is fragrant. The halls stand solemn as mountains; smoke rises from the incense kitchen, where those who serve carry water and firewood. Many Daoists wear robes of rosy clouds and starry crowns, and people often gather in great numbers to wait for meals. The high Moon Altar is where immortals of successive ages have lived and cultivated the Dao.

The palace temple faces Mount Fuchuan and rests against Flying Cloud Grotto. Outside the gate, a pavilion to Liu the Immortal stands beside an ancient rock; behind the palace, a shrine to Numinous Blessing has been built on a high mountain. Nineteen Daoist courtyards house practitioners who play the qin and train with swords, while three or five guest halls welcome travelers. Green waters flow past the buildings, and green moss covers the steps. When the sounds of nature ring out, the valleys answer. As the wind first stirs the bamboo, the water’s breath turns cold. Red flowers reflect in the pond, and ancient pines greet the old road. This is truly a dwelling place of immortals and a site of exquisite natural beauty. Beside white waterfalls and purple cliffs lies the region of Xingjiang; among white duckweed and red smartweed, one is reminded of old excursions to Mipu.

The court bestowed the name “Palace of Great Peace and Flourishing Prosperity,” making it a place where officials in attendance could offer sacrifices to the spirit. The Perfected Lord was granted the title “Responsive to the Primordial and Protecting the Mandate,” an honor conferred by a sagely and enlightened court. Ages have passed, yet no stone has been engraved to preserve this history. My talent and learning are poor; how could I write a text worthy of enduring through the ages? Since I have been commanded, I shall at least compose a poem to record the matter…

The perfected immortal Lord Yuanyi of Jiuyi, a legendary Daoist immortal, smiled as he rode a jade dragon into the purple clouds. Holding the Five Emperors’ Demon-Subduing Seal, a legendary seal used to suppress evil spirits, he traveled to pay homage in Taiqing, the Daoist celestial realm. His ceremonial guard, splendid as a rainbow and feathered wings, accompanied him.

He personally received the command of the Emperor of Primordial Unity, a revered Daoist deity, then descended to the human world in a carriage drawn by ten thousand cranes. After resting briefly and eating immortal cakes made from lingzhi, he heard celestial music begin. A thousand mounted guards formed ranks in the sky and set the fire bells ringing.

In Zhaoyang Palace, the night moon shone brightly, and a gentle breeze drifted through the curtains of the halls and towers. In a dream, Emperor Ming of Tang encountered a spirit and learned that the visitor was an envoy from the Nine Heavens. At dawn, the emperor emerged from Mingguang Hall and relayed the divine message to his ministers. They listened in awe and astonishment.

Once more, an incense-and-flower banquet was laid in the jade palace. Everyone watched the carriage, with its feathered canopy and jade wheels, travel toward the distant horizon. Suddenly, they heard a cry from the Azure Crow, a legendary divine bird that bore messages. They looked up and saw the immortals appear. Wind and thunder boomed as clouds churned; chariots drawn by qilin and phoenixes stood in ordered ranks. Immortal officials from the Thirty-Six Palaces scattered celestial flowers, while their ranks descended like clouds collapsing and bowed in homage.

The Kaiyuan emperor, Tang Xuanzong, performed the great kowtow before the gods. From deep within the divine procession came a solemn voice, like an imperial decree: “The Highest One, a Daoist title for the supreme deity, cares for the people and has sent me to inspect the eight directions. Between the Nine Heavens and Nine Earths, all things are within my keeping; I govern their flourishing and decline, their birth and death. Northwest of Mount Lu lies a suitable place for a temple. A temple should be built there and offerings made, so that incense may burn without cease for a thousand years to come.”

As soon as the words were spoken, the deity vanished into the blue sky. The emperor issued an edict appointing the veteran minister Dugu Lao to oversee the work. An envoy respectfully brought gold and silk to fund the construction of the temple and palace, seeking protection for the people. That night there was no wind, yet the waters rose of their own accord. A thousand catalpa trees floated down the mountainside to its foot. Skilled craftsmen from the town worked with their axes, while the mountain spirits came to help. By the following autumn, the temple complex was complete.

The people of ten thousand households joined together in the Lotus Society, a gathering for worship marked by the lotus. Towers of dragons and phoenixes rose into the clouds, seeming to pierce them like stars in the sky. For five hundred years, peach blossoms bloomed quietly in the mountains; petals fell and waters flowed, while the grotto-heaven, a secluded and blessed abode of immortals, remained filled with spring.

I came here and respectfully bowed nine times before the deity. As a former official of the Divine Empyrean, one of the Daoist heavens, I asked the elders of the mountain about the past. They told me: “The sacred Song dynasty established the immortals’ blessings and prosperity. Across five reigns, successive enlightened rulers honored them; each spring and autumn, the state held sacrifices in the grotto-heaven.”

I came before the Zaoxiang, a Daoist clerical title, and reverently bowed nine times. An old official of the Divine Empyrean, the celestial realm of Daoism, asked a mountain hermit about the past.

He said, “The sacred Song dynasty ushered in an auspicious age when the Immortal Way flourished. Across five reigns, enlightened rulers continued to bestow favor and honor. Each spring and autumn, the state held jiao rites, Daoist ceremonies for prayer and blessing, for the Perfected Lord. By day, the palace shone brilliantly, revealing the forms of dragons and phoenixes.

“In recent years, rebels forgot the kindness of the state. The Perfected Lord personally commanded the Azure Dragon troops from the Immortal Terrace. His transformations and spiritual powers were beyond reckoning. Unseen, he protected the people, as evenly as a gentle rain soaking the earth.

“The emperor bestowed a gold plaque engraved with the words ‘Jing Ji.’ Auspicious signs gathered on the precious pavilion, fragrant as auspicious snow. The Perfected Lord’s solemn procession set out. Riding the Northern Dipper, he rose in an instant into the highest reaches of the void, freely wandering among Penglai and Yingzhou, the fabled immortal isles of the sea.

“The white cranes and azure luan birds departed and never returned. From the Boshan incense burner, fragrant smoke curled upward in a single blue wisp. The Vermilion Gates of the Pure Capital lay far beyond the horizon. After drinking, the Perfected Lord leaned on the jade balustrade and summoned the thunder. The True Sovereign of the Nine Heavens manifested in countless forms; by night, the music of reed pipes sounded from the Jingfei Terrace.

“The civil achievements of the enlightened ruler shone up to the highest heavens. Carved in jade and inlaid with gold, they were treasured in the Emerald Capital, the Daoist immortal realm. The great accomplishments of our dynasty were as vast as Heaven and Earth, filling all between them; even fish and birds received their beneficence.

“A short poem

The True Sovereign of the Nine Heavens manifested in countless forms; by night, the music of reed pipes sounded from the Jingfei Terrace. The civil achievements of the enlightened ruler shone up to the highest heavens. Carved in jade and inlaid with gold, they were treasured in the Emerald Capital. The great accomplishments of our dynasty were as vast as Heaven and Earth, reaching everywhere between them; even fish and birds received their beneficence.

“How could such a short poem record these magnificent deeds? For now, let me praise this great virtue and pass it down among the mountains, forests, springs, and stones. Like someone scooping water with a cowrie shell, I can take up only a little; then, following my inspiration, I shall return. May the clear breeze accompany this restful sleep, lasting for ten thousand years.

“Record of the Hall of Bestowed Ink”

The area around Xunyang is renowned for the finest and most beautiful mountain and river scenery under heaven. Mount Lu is a grotto-heaven where immortals are said to chant of the true Dao, and a blessed land at Tiger Creek—one of the blessed lands in Daoist tradition. Legend has it that Zhongli Quan lived in seclusion on Mount Lu during the Jin dynasty. In the Tang dynasty, Lü Dongbin passed through the mountain and met Zhongli Quan, who taught him the methods of the Elixir. Later, the two became immortals together.

During the Shaosheng era, Du Kuang, known as Lun Kunzi, wrote The Account of Master Chongzhen Hu’s Encounter with an Immortal. Master Hu was a Daoist at the Palace of Great Peace and Prosperity, which housed the Office of Celestial Investigations—the divine bureau responsible for inspecting and recording the deeds of immortals and perfected beings. The palace stood north of Mount Lu. There, ordinary people and sages lived side by side, while the immortals’ comings and goings remained hard to discern.

Master Hu’s given name was Yongzong. When he served as the mountain’s Daoist administrator, a Daoist surnamed Hui came to the palace. He wore a blue Huayang gauze cap, a Chongxuan robe in the Kaiyuan style, a dark silk belt called “Flying Clouds,” and white silk shoes. His brows and eyes were handsome, his face full, his temples blue-black, his nose high, his eyes emerald, and his chin square. His bearing was extraordinary and his presence radiant. No one at the palace offered him hospitality except Master Hu, who invited him to drink tea. The two talked and laughed with ease. The Daoist pointed to a wine pot and then tapped his own chest, indicating that he wanted wine. The pot never ran dry: even after a hundred cups, there was still wine left. He drank from morning until night without showing any sign of intoxication.

The Daoist then invited Master Hu to his own lodging for a drink, and prepared fresh sugar and fish. Master Hu declined, saying that it was already late. The Daoist stroked his beard, laughed heartily, and left. The Palace of Great Peace and Prosperity was about one she—an ancient measure of distance—from the city. The next day, Master Hu went to pay his respects to the prefect. When he reached the city gate, it had not yet opened, but the Daoist was already coming out from inside. He smiled at Master Hu as they passed. The officials accompanying Master Hu said that the Daoist had been waiting by the gate since midnight. Master Hu was struck by how extraordinary the man was.

Several years later, the Daoist returned to visit Master Hu in his quiet courtyard, dressed in ragged clothes and wearing a tattered cap, with a leather belt and hemp cord around his waist. He called himself “the Great Song Guest” and brought two pots of wine. He showed Master Hu what was inside them: the pots held gold and silver. He took out some silver and bought wine and food. As the sun slanted westward, he scraped dirt from the ground with an iron knife, mixed it with the leftover wine and his saliva, and kneaded it into an ink cake. He tossed it onto the table, where it landed with a metallic clang. Master Hu collapsed, drunk, onto his rope bed. The guest swept away his sleeve and vanished. A strange fragrance filled the room and lingered all day. The knife, too, had turned gold, and people rushed to buy it. Master Hu ground the ink into wine and drank half of it; his chronic illness of many years was cured at once.

Master Hu was nearly seventy, yet looked like a young man, and his capacity for wine had not diminished. This was indeed a rare encounter with one of the Eight Immortals. If the two characters in “Great Song” are read by their phonetic components, they form the character for “grotto”; the components of “two fields” combine to form “Lü”; and his calling himself a “guest” points to “bin.” It is therefore clear that the person Master Hu met was Lü Dongbin.

After this, Master Hu gradually grew weary of the human world. One day, he left behind a poem, shed his mortal form, and departed. At the place where they had once made ink, five springs suddenly welled up. When the Left Assistant Minister Wang passed by, he named them “Ink Immortal Springs.” The Attendant Minister Song Boyou and Left Assistant Minister Wang both wrote poems in response to one another. One line reads, “Green balm restored the crimson hue of youth; white hair need not be brushed away with yellow essence.” It means that taking an immortal medicine can restore a youthful appearance, while yellow essence is no longer needed to treat white hair.

Grand Marshal Cao Xun of the Qiao state and the Perfected One of Clarity and Emptiness, Huangfu Tan, reported Master Hu’s story to the Hall of Longevity and Virtue. Emperor Gaozong was astonished when he heard it. The place where Master Hu had lived was first called the Hall of the Immortal Encounter and later renamed the Hall of Bestowed Ink. Its buildings rose in tier upon tier, auspicious vapors drifting above them; the water in its ancient well remained clear and green throughout the year. This was one of Mount Lu’s wondrous tales of the immortals, so I have recorded it here to supplement the episodes omitted from the histories of the immortals.

The Chen clan traces its origins to Gaozu, and its branches have spread without end, like springs that keep flowing. Chen Ping, Marquis of Quni, served Liu Bang, Duke of Pei, helping him enter the Guanzhong region during the Han dynasty; he later rose to the achievements of a chief minister. From then on, the Chen family remained prominent for generations, with descendants in great number. In every generation, some were enfeoffed as marquises in life and received temple rites after death. In the past, many Chen lineages moved from Yingyang to the regions of Min and Yue.

The Marquis of Meichuan in the ancient commandery of Wuzhu had the surname Chen and lived during the Jin dynasty. His temple stood in the plum grove on Nanshan. He once yielded land to establish the palace of the Grotto of Immortal Source. The Marquis of Putian in the ancient Wurong commandery also bore the surname Chen and lived during the Jin dynasty. His temple was at the Fengting post station on Hushan, and he too yielded land for the palace of the Grotto of Clear Source. There were also the Marquis of Gai zhu from Fusha and the Marquis of Miraculous Manifestation from Linzhang, both of Chen lineage. No one knows how many more spirits from famous mountains and great rivers have received offerings from the Chen family.

During the Tang dynasty, a learned man of lofty character lived in seclusion at a temple. His surname was Chen, but his given name has been lost; some say he was called Boxuan. He withdrew to Kangshan and wrote a commentary on the Records of the Grand Historian, helping the work circulate through the world. When summoned by the court, he did not respond. The court later appointed him Assistant Director of the Historiography Bureau. His family had studied the classics for generations, and some of its members served as officials at court.

When the Chen family lived before Shengzhi Peak, during the Kaiyuan era of the Tang emperor Xuanzong, the emperor spent the night at Zhaoyang Palace. At dawn he went to Lingguang Hall, where he twice saw the appearance of the Envoy of the Nine Heavens and personally received a divine revelation. The revelation ordered Dugu Zheng, the governor of Jiangzhou, to build a temple at the northwest corner of Mount Lu. It also ordered Meng Xianzhen and four others to tend the incense. At that time, the court’s decree had not yet been issued, and no one knew of the matter. One day, a person wearing a starry crown and clothed in rosy light came to the Chen home and said, “The Emperor of Primordial Chaos has sent the Envoy Yuan Yi Cang Shui, bearing the insignia of the Nine Commanders and Five Spirits, to inspect the registers of life and death, flourishing and decline, throughout the Nine Heavens and Nine Earths. The Son of Heaven has now received the envoy in person and plans to build the Censorial Office of the Nine Heavens on Mount Lu, bringing blessings to the people for five hundred years. The place where you live is secluded among deep valleys, its moonlight reflected in the waters, with the Jade Abyss mirroring the sky. It is an excellent site. You should donate this land for a temple. In a future life, you will become an official attached to the Censorial Office, oversee this mountain, and receive offerings in the temple.”

Chen agreed. As soon as the Daoist left the house, he suddenly vanished. Later, a peal of thunder and a fierce wind moved Chen’s dwelling to the left side of the palace-temple, and people built a shrine on its original site. Once the shrine was complete, Chen too ascended and departed from the world, in Daoist terms becoming an immortal. From then on, his descendants served for generations as the local tutelary deity and received offerings.

Later, the Chen family moved to Changle Village in De’an County. After a long time, another branch moved to the estate at Dingshan. They twice received imperial decrees of the present dynasty honoring their family for its exemplary virtue, and so they made their former home beside the palace-temple a place for offerings to the local tutelary deity. After the state temple elevated the shrine to a palace, members of the Chen family also rose to prominence: some reached the realms of immortals, some served in the Orchid Terrace, some entered the Hanlin Academy, and some, in old age, sat peacefully at the fishing terrace. The sound of reading filled the household, officials in their robes and caps followed one another through its gates, and the family’s status and honors flourished. What prosperity!

With Qingliang overseeing the work, Chen Zhuo, a descendant of the Chen family, rode forward like a swan. He commissioned the Daoist De Xin, then serving as the palace gate’s resident priest, to buy nanmu timber and gather clay. They demolished the old shrine and rebuilt it. The work included ten divine statues and a hall with six bays, along with two sets of gates and two covered walkways. Smoke curled among the green roof tiles, and moonlight shone on the vermilion corridors. The bells beneath the eaves rang in the wind; even in daylight, the lanterns seemed to burn without going out. Blossoms covered the ground like woven brocade, and moss grew on the jade steps. Splendid curtains hung beneath the corridors’ eaves, and incense smoke rose from jade burners into the hall. Gold and green gleamed, vermilion and purple dazzled the eye. The divine statues looked awe inspiring and numinous, as though they could speak; they seemed wise and upright, and have been revered from ancient times to the present.

This rebuilding was brought about after Chen Zhuo was inspired by Du Daoshu of Shuxi, who had previously overseen the palace-temples. In former times, Lord Jin of Xiaoyao Mountain yielded land to Xu Jingyang, and Lord Sun of Tongwu Mountain yielded land to Ge Taiji. The Chen family of Min, in yielding land for a palace in a grotto, followed the same example as the reclusive Chen of Kangshan.

Though the Reclusive Lord Chen has passed away, it is as though he were still alive; his numinous nature endures for all time. Surely he can refine the lead of the Nine Qian and Six Kun, gather and refine the mercury of the Three Zhen and Four Dui, and perfect the Way of flight and transformation. Even if he has not become a pure and numinous soul, he is already close to becoming an immortal. How could he be content merely to receive offerings? The Book of Changes says that what is so vast it cannot be measured is called “spirit.” The Classic of the Hidden Talisman says that what is not displayed as miraculous power, yet is naturally wondrous, is the true spirit. The Book of Transformation says that the myriad spirits return to the One Spirit. If the Reclusive Lord can bring his own spiritual nature to perfection, he will enter the domain of Yuan Yi, ascend to the homeland of the Primordial Beginning, and share a single breath and dwelling with the Perfected Lord of the Envoy. How could such a person be confined by the small matter of temple offerings? The Reclusive Lord was a divine being. I have set down these words in his honor.

After the Perfected Lord received an order to travel through the region and make inquiries, he stayed at Mount Lu. These events are clearly recorded. The story of how the local landholder, Lord Chen, gave up his home and donated his family estate for use by the authorities is especially extraordinary.

According to old accounts, after an apparition of the imperial spirit appeared during the Kaiyuan era, the emperor began selecting a site where the deity could be reverently enshrined. For a long time, however, no suitable place could be found. Lord Chen lived as a recluse near Shengzhi Peak, in a place of beautiful mountains and waters. One day, a Daoist adept came to his door and urged him to move and build himself a new home elsewhere. Lord Chen readily agreed, but, judging his own means, had not yet managed to move. That night, wind and thunder suddenly arose, yet the house was unharmed. By dawn, the whole family had already been moved to the south.

Afterward, the deity manifested auspicious signs, and people came in droves to offer their labor. They followed the streams and slopes to build ponds and channels, and raised lofty beams and pillars over the buildings. Temples, government offices, Daoist monasteries, and palace shrines multiplied, while the surrounding scenic sites continued to expand. It seemed impossible that all this could have been accomplished by human planning alone. Looking back at the grand scale of it all, though it appeared to have taken shape as naturally as the opening of heaven and earth, its origins lay in Lord Chen’s own plans.

People often attend only to their own homes, unaware of the world beyond their walls. They seek security for themselves alone and give no thought to the good or ill that may befall those in generations to come. Lord Chen, by contrast, gave up an estate passed down through his family to seek blessings for the people. He let go of his attachment to his own home and opened a blessed place for people five hundred years in the future. His vision was far-reaching and his heart generous. Even the village elders who jostled one another for a place to sit would have been awed and impressed by this deed. Lord Chen was worthy to become Mount Lu’s guardian and to ensure that the incense offerings at this palace would continue for generations.

During the Zhiyuan era, warfare destroyed the Daoist compound, and the local landholder’s shrine was also damaged. After the fighting ended, repairs to the shrine began and were completed the following year. Zhou Deyi, who oversaw the palace’s affairs, and Zhou Chengyuan, deputy director of its administration, asked me to record the shrine’s history of destruction and restoration.

I have heard that after Lord Chen moved away, his deeds were passed down through the generations, but his family’s genealogical line could no longer be verified. Those eager to claim a connection have often attached their own family line to Lord Chen’s. Only an old stele records that Lü Zhixin, who administered the palace, carved the image of the deity’s first descent. It cites related events as evidence and states that “Jin Ganbu” was Lord Chen. For this reason, people believe that Lord Chen was my kinsman. Warfare has broken out many times, and no complete family records remain. I dare not do as Chongtao did and claim Prince Fenyang as an ancestor, lest I invite ridicule upon Lord Chen. Even so, whether or not Lord Chen was my ancestor, his virtue deserves to be recorded. And the stele of Lü also preserves this tradition. So I have written this account.

On the Shangyuan day of the year Dingchou, the fourteenth year of Zhiyuan, recorded by Chen Youzong, a resident of Mount Lu. The stele’s cover was inscribed by Wu Meng, the Layman of Mountain Springs.

On the third day of the third lunar month in the thirteenth year of the Zhiyuan era (1253), Zhou Deyi, abbot of Taiping Xingguo Palace; Zhou Chengyuan, deputy director of palace affairs; Wu Yonghuai, supervisor of palace affairs; the officials serving at the palace gate; and the Daoist community respectfully offered this sacrifice to the Great King Chen, Lord of the Land, who answers prayers.

Your divine nature was endowed with the qualities of an immortal from the beginning, and you revealed your miraculous power in a sage and enlightened age. You were commissioned to inspect Mount Lu and came here to open up and govern this place. At that time you appeared in person and declared that a shrine should be built here, and that the spirits would protect it in years to come. Having spoken, you vanished. That night thunder and lightning raced across the sky, yet the springtime sleepers were not disturbed. Soon afterward, you came to dwell in peace on the southern side of the mountain. From then on, people worshipped you at the shrine, and you protected the people both near and far. From the Tang through the Song, more than five hundred years passed.

During the Jianyan era, warfare reached Jiangzhou. In those troubled times, the palace and temple were burned down, and weeds and trees covered the ruins. Later, as order was restored, people aided those in distress and repaired the abandoned site, rebuilding and restoring it. The incense offerings resumed as before. Since the southward migration, the shrine buildings have been repaired several times, and worship and sacrifice have flourished. All this has depended on your protection.

Who could have foreseen that in the year of Yihai the shrine would again be consumed by fire, as if calamity were at hand? Without your protection, it would scarcely have survived. The disaster darkened heaven and earth and brought unbearable suffering. The storehouses were emptied; everyone was helpless, food ran out, and lives hung by a thread. The palace and temple lay in ruins, far worse than in earlier years. Old debts remained unpaid, and new ones piled up. We had no peace by day or night, and there was nowhere to enshrine you. Though we knew our limits, we did all we could to keep the reconstruction going. Fortunately, generous patrons donated funds and helped build a new shrine, restoring it to its former site. The work is nearly complete, entirely through your protection. We have chosen an auspicious day, coinciding with the Spring Purification festival, prepared sacrificial animals and wine, and respectfully made this offering. Daoists young and old have gathered to celebrate the installation of your divine image. May you bring life and nurture to the four quarters, and fill the storehouses. May Daoists and the people live in harmony, and landlords and tenants dwell in peace. We will continue the flourishing incense offerings and sacrifices. How could we forget the blessings you have bestowed? We respectfully invite you to partake of the offerings.

On the sixth day of the seventh lunar month in the sixteenth year of the Zhiyuan era (1259), Zhou Deyi, Master of Penetrating Mystery and Rushing into Truth, Chief Inspector of Daoism in Jiangzhou Circuit, and superintendent and abbot of Taiping Xingguo Palace; Zhou Chengyuan, Master of Bright Simplicity and Harmonious Stillness, Daoist Registrar of Jiangzhou Circuit and director of Taiping Xingguo Palace; Liu Zongchuan, Master of the Nameless Way, Daoist Judge and deputy director of Taiping Xingguo Palace; the officials serving at the palace gate; and the Daoist community once again respectfully offered this sacrifice to the Great King Chen, Lord of the Land, who answers prayers.

You have received the numinous energy of this mountain and protect the palace and temple, bringing blessings to people near and far. After the Yuan dynasty replaced the previous dynasty, the shrine too underwent changes. People gathered materials and rebuilt the palace and temple; the work took five years to complete. The new halls are grand and beautiful, their painted decorations vivid. The halls and steps are orderly and solemn, the entrances broad and level, and the whole complex is magnificent beyond compare. These achievements owe entirely to your influence; human effort alone could not have accomplished them.

Now that an auspicious day and hour have been chosen, we respectfully invite you to take your seat and receive our offerings. We have prepared tea, sacrificial animals, and wine, and laid out the offerings. Your divine presence is manifest and clear, as if before our eyes. We humbly ask you to look upon our sincerity. May you protect the incense offerings and assist in the palace’s revival, so that the Daoist community may dwell in peace and each person be safe. May illness and calamity be dispelled, and the storehouses filled. We offer sacrifices at the appointed seasons; how could we forget to repay your divine kindness? We respectfully invite you to partake of the offerings.

Those skilled in speaking of the Way of Heaven know when to stop: when they have spoken of “naturalness.” Yet the Way of Heaven still has the charge of keeping watch. It cares for the people and listens to and observes affairs in the world; the final judgment rests with Heaven. The Way of Heaven acts through Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing is left undone; it does not speak, yet nothing goes uncommunicated. What is called naturalness already includes both substance and function: it means simply following what is natural without acting recklessly. The ancients understood this, so they followed the Way of Heaven, devoted themselves to governing, assisted Heaven and Earth in nurturing and transforming the myriad things, and continued the blessings bestowed by Heaven’s mandate. If the Way of Heaven is said to be too remote to communicate with the human world, and everything is left to distant nature, how can that make sense?

When the Yellow Emperor, Yao, and Shun sat with their robes hanging down and their hands folded, the realm was at peace. This was precisely because they were in accord with the Way of Heaven. Yet they still earnestly consulted the people and widely sought the opinions of regional officials such as the March Lords and Shepherds. They kept channels of sight and hearing open, dismissed the dim-witted and incapable, and elevated the worthy and wise. Was there ever a day when they forgot the realm? In later ages, as the virtue of rulers declined, rulers worried that their eyes and ears did not reach far enough, so they established inspectors inside and outside the court, ensuring that affairs in remote regions would not escape inquiry.

This is why the Palace of Inspection was established. It was regarded as an institution of oversight opened by Heaven, and so the creation of a traveling palace could not be treated lightly. After the Perfected Lord manifested auspicious signs at the foot of Shengzhi during the Kaiyuan era, the Chen family dedicated their former residence as a dwelling for the divine. Thus, within Xunyang’s walls stood shrines and temples such as Xipo and Wanshou Temple, while branch shrines were also established at Zhuanqianyuan, Baiteng Kunlun, Xiangxi Shenglong, Ziyang, and other places. The palaces and temples along the river did not face one another merely to add to the workload. A shrine called “Inspection” was an institution through which Heaven watched over the human world: even the most remote and hidden places were to be searched, and good and evil, worthiness and failure, were to be distinguished. In this way, officials entrusted with governing the people would not fail in their duty to care for them, and those who received orders and spread moral instruction would not fail in their duty to pacify the people. Ministers could fulfill their loyalty, and children their filial devotion, without failing the sheltering care of Heaven and Earth. Only then could people look up to Heaven without shame and avoid punishment. Otherwise, Heaven sees clearly, without the slightest error, and fortune and calamity, blessing and misfortune, are decided accordingly. How could one fail to be reverent? This concerns the governance of the age; it is not merely ordinary incense burning to pray for blessings.

Shuangzhong County lies about a hundred li from Shengzhi, yet in the past it had only a humble branch shrine, far inferior to those elsewhere. Zhou Shu of the local prominent Zhou family, whose courtesy name was Gongshu, had seen his home destroyed in the fires of war, leaving none of his possessions. He searched everywhere for an heir, but found no one. He reflected that even ordinary households lament when their descendants may not prove worthy. If one has no child and must choose an heir, one naturally hopes to find someone wise and capable, and people often deliberate for years without reaching a decision. How much harder it was for him, caught in upheaval, old and poor, uncertain of his survival from one day to the next. To entrust the remainder of his life in haste to some young child would be improper; it would also mean casually abandoning the family estate built up by his ancestors over many years. He could hardly feel at ease.

Zhou Shu therefore considered the matter again and again. If an undertaking could stand before Heaven and Earth and withstand questioning by the spirits, and if it accorded with the wishes of his ancestors, then an expedient suited to the circumstances need not conform entirely to ordinary custom. The locality lacked a traveling shrine of the Palace of Inspection, so he planned to enlarge the shrine. This would allow the Zhou family’s ancestral rites to continue under the protection of sacred incense, while giving his ancestors a place of repose.

He discussed the matter with Zhou Deyi, the supervising official in charge of palace affairs at Tai Ping Xingguo Palace on Mount Lu, and Zhou Chengyuan, a Daoist registrar who knew the palace’s affairs. He offered several qing of farmland, estates, and land where the family tombs stood. He proposed naming the estate “Emerald Foothills” and building a traveling hall of the Palace of Inspection there. Beside it, they would build a Hall of the Flying Heavenly Dharma Wheel to enshrine the sacred images, and place the Zhou ancestral shrine in a side courtyard. Each year, the palace would appoint an upright Daoist priest to conduct the rites.

In this way, they could first follow the example of the ancients by praising and praying for the sage ruler, and asking that the nation’s fortune endure. They could also express their reverence for worthy ministers and wish them long lives and blessings; allow the Zhou ancestors to hear the scriptures and teachings, and thereby transcend the ordinary and approach the sacred; and encourage the people of the village to practice good deeds and pray for an abundant harvest year after year. The sacred title “Responsive to the Origin, Preserving the Mandate, Divine Transformation, Manifesting Harmony” could be made real through this undertaking. The sacred prophecy that “after five hundred years, blessings will reach all living beings” probably meant something like this as well. If his ancestors were aware, they would surely feel comfort and joy in the world of darkness.

Everyone who heard of the plan praised it. Zhou Shu submitted it to the prefectural and county authorities and obtained official documents as proof. The undertaking began in the sixth month of the thirteenth year of Zhiyuan, and that year’s rental income was used to build the shrine. The work was still unfinished when Zhou Shu died of illness at the age of seventy-five. While alive, he had told the author the full story and left instructions asking that a record be written. Though the author had not known Zhou Shu personally, he understood the matter and has recorded its general outline, explaining to everyone the reasons for donating the residence and building the shrine as described above. Zhou Shu’s own intentions repeatedly returned to honoring his ancestors, aiding the dead, and protecting the family tombs. It is no easy matter to inherit the wishes of one’s forebears and complete their work. He entrusted this undertaking to those who had left home to cultivate the Dao, and those who accepted it must therefore act with care.

While alive, Zhou Shu entrusted the undertaking to others; after his death, he also hoped through it to make his petition to the gods. If the gods grant their approval, those who accepted the charge will have taken on not only Zhou Shu’s commission but also a trust from the Supreme Perfected Ones, the exalted gods of Daoism. Having solemnly agreed to the undertaking, they must plan it carefully: management must be thorough, and those appointed must be chosen with care and proven trustworthy. They should follow the regulations governing the succession of abbots at palaces and temples and tend to the undertaking as they would the Zhou ancestral shrine, so that the incense may continue through the generations. In that way, Zhou Shu will be as though he had never died.

On the Qingming Festival in the seventeenth year of Zhiyuan, written and inscribed by Chen Youzong, lay follower of the Stone Carving Studio. The cover title was written by Yang Renfeng, Junior Director of the Court, Governor-General of Jiangzhou Circuit and Prefect of the Prefecture.

Xunyang, in the area of present-day Jiujiang in Jiangxi, is an important town in the Jiangnan region, while Mount Lu is a mountain renowned throughout the world. According to legend, Yu the Great once climbed Mount Lu and carved an account of his deeds into stone. Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu of Han also left records of their achievements on the mountain. Accounts of these events remain clear to see, and few other mountains can compare with Mount Lu. Its Buddhist temples and Daoist abbeys are too numerous to count, and Taiping Xingguo Palace is especially famous for the miracles of the Daoist deity the Perfected Lord of the Nine Heavens, who appeared and conveyed wonders through dreams.

During the Kaiyuan era of the Tang emperor Xuanzong, the emperor sensed the Perfected Lord’s divine presence. He ordered Wu Daozi to paint an image of the deity and Dugu Zheng to build a shrine. Legend has it that, during construction, the required timber seemed to be brought by divine power: however much was used, the supply was replenished. All who heard of this found it extraordinary.

From the Tang dynasty to the present, many dynasties have risen and fallen, and the mountains, forests, streams, and valleys have changed greatly. Taiping Xingguo Palace was first a prefectural office, then became an abbey, and was later made a palace. Though it has known times of prosperity and decline, the Perfected Lord’s efficacy seems to have remained constant. The reverence shown to him has grown deeper with each generation, and the people’s faith has become ever more devout; few other deities can compare.

In the year yihai, the realm was unified. The markets and people of Jiujiang were spared the effects of war, and everyone could live in peace. But Taiping Xingguo Palace lay far from the city, making its daily upkeep and management difficult. Zhou Deyi, director of the palace, and Zhou Chengyuan, deputy director, saw that its buildings were in disrepair and its fields lay uncultivated. They wished to restore and put the place in order, but lacked the means. When Lord Lü, then the chief official of the prefecture, heard of this, he immediately supplied grain and lent them oxen. He also had them gather Daoist priests to manage the palace’s existing estates. Three years later, rental grain revenues had gradually recovered. The neglected areas were rebuilt, collapsed buildings repaired, and the halls and covered corridors all made new again.

Zhou Shushu, a native of Huyi, devoted his entire family fortune to supporting the palace’s incense offerings. Some fields in front of the palace had been seized by powerful families, but these too were returned. The palace’s finances thus became more secure, its community of Daoists grew, and the sound of bells and stone chimes rang out each day. Envoys from the court came from all directions to offer incense, and every passerby joined their palms in reverence. The palace was transformed, and both the divine beings and the people were pleased.

These achievements were certainly due to the care and effort of Zhou Deyi and Zhou Chengyuan. Yet without Lord Lü’s initial compassion and assistance, how could they have found the means to accomplish them? In the early years of the Jianyan era, Taiping Xingguo Palace was once destroyed. Master Daoyuan, Zhou Fuxian, personally cleared the ruins and made its rebuilding possible. Zhou Deyi and Zhou Chengyuan are both close descendants of his family. Their bond with Mount Lu clearly has deep roots.

I have traveled through many places and often lamented that important undertakings, once ruined and fallen into decline, could not be restored. Such cases are beyond counting. Is it truly always because circumstances make restoration impossible? Perhaps the deeper reason is that, from top to bottom, there are too few people who care sincerely and are willing to take responsibility. Qianshan and Mount Qingcheng, too, once shared the Perfected Lord’s manifestation of divine power; yet after the upheavals of war, neither recovered its former appearance. How could this fail to move us?

I have lived here in Jiujiang for nine years, and my prayers have often been answered. Though I have been delayed here and could not immediately return to my former place of seclusion, I still come to the palace once each year to burn incense and pay my respects. Zhou Deyi and Zhou Chengyuan asked me to record what had happened. I could not refuse, so I have written a brief account for later readers to consult. I have not listed the various timber and earth materials used in the construction.

In the eighteenth year of the Zhiyuan era (1281), in the cyclical year xinsi, on the jiazi day of the eighth month, respectfully written and inscribed by Yan Rong, Chengzhilang and Education Inspector of the Jiangnan Zixi Academy. The title panel was inscribed by Li Bingyi, Jiayidafu, Administrator-General and Prefect of Changde Circuit.

The inscription in the Hall of the True Lords was composed from materials provided by Longxing. Later, when illness forced Longxing to return to his hometown, it became clear that the records left at the palace differed somewhat from what he had seen with his own eyes and related orally. The account was therefore revised, and the text was carved on a stone stele. Even so, one omission remained: the land first registered amounted to only three thousand mu, whereas today it exceeds ten thousand. The figures look different when the original holdings are considered together with the land added since. At present, Master Tang, titled Chongjing Zhenchang Ningmiao (a Daoist ritual master), oversees the palace’s affairs and manages its temples, while also recording the progress of Daoist affairs throughout Jiangzhou Circuit. The total land registered under his name amounts to eleven thousand mu.

These holdings came from three sources: purchases, donations, and land reclaimed through labor. I have often thought that Master Tang’s firm purpose and tireless personal efforts deserve a written record. So I examined the locations of the estates and fields and tallied them by donor, listing them from largest to smallest. Among the lands acquired by purchase, Shimen Estate is the largest, with three thousand six hundred and fifty mu. This includes one thousand two hundred and eighty mu at Shimen; the rest comprises two hundred and eighty mu at Qishi, seven hundred and fifty at Jinxi, nine hundred and ten at Shitang, nine hundred and sixty at Longgang, and one thousand two hundred and thirty at Shanglongxi. Qishi Estate is in Dazhi, Xingguo; the others are all in Dehua, Jiangzhou.

The donated land totals five thousand three hundred and fifty mu. Cuilu is the largest holding, with two thousand two hundred mu; the others are the estates of Gao’an, Yuanshan, Wan’an, Fuxing, and Zhao-Chen. Gao’an is in Yongxing, Xingguo; Yuanshan is in Huangmei, Xinzhou; Cuilu is in Hukou; Wan’an is in Dean; Fuxing is in Pengze; and Zhao-Chen is in Ruichang. The donors included Li Jiansun, Xiang Zhida, Zhou Shu, Hu Rong, Lü Shishan, and others, as well as the deputy prefect of Fuzhou Circuit and Qi Yongnian, whose names are recorded on the stele.

As for land reclaimed through labor, Master Tang opened four areas of tea terraces in Dehua County, established Yixing Estate, and reclaimed two thousand mu of fields. He also founded five hermitages. In front of the palace are the East and West Taiping Hermitages and Ziyuan Hermitage; behind it are Yongcui Hermitage, Gufeng Hermitage, and others. At first, all these places were wasteland overgrown with weeds and dense brush, where people often gathered firewood and grazed livestock. Master Tang recruited workers and brought money and tools up the mountain to clear the land. He collected seeds from pine, fir, paulownia, and tea plants, raised seedlings, and then transplanted them in various places. Land suitable for ginger, taro, yams, and rice was given to hired workers to cultivate. They were allowed to keep the harvest, and none of it was counted as palace property, so as to encourage others to take part in the future.

I went there myself by sedan chair to inspect the work. Five years had passed since the earliest areas were reclaimed, and even the most recently opened land had been cultivated for a year. Trees were now scattered across the hillsides. Some were hidden by weeds, but they were still growing vigorously; those planted first stood tall one by one, numbering in the thousands. The trees in the nursery had not yet been transplanted and still covered the fields. The bamboo had been cut above the roots, leaving the rhizomes unharmed, and old soil had also been brought from other mountains in quantities beyond counting. New bamboo had sprung up in clusters beneath the groves, though it had not yet grown into a forest.

Master Tang climbed a high hill and pointed to the woods around the palace. He said to me, “The elders say that in the past this mountain was as barren as it is now. I am raising trees for the use of those who come after me, adding to the foundations laid by our predecessors. There are several more miles of barren hills nearby that could be reclaimed. If Heaven grants me enough years and I can keep at it without stopping, perhaps I will be able to open them all. A hundred years from now, when these trees have grown thick and strong, those who come after me will be able to use them to repair the palace. Then I will not have wasted my life.”

I replied, “Ah, what you say is just what the ancients meant by ‘making use of what others have discarded.’ This is an important way to build up wealth. With such purpose, what could you fail to do, or what achievement could you not accomplish? No wonder people are moved to give, even parting with things they cherish. Otherwise, fields are family property on which people depend for a living. They may hesitate to give even a foot of silk or a dou of rice, putting off the gift again and again. How much more valuable are connected stretches of farmland worth thousands in gold, given away freely and without asking anything in return? Without someone able to win their heartfelt trust, how could this be possible?”

After living here for a long time, I also learned of the system of management followed at the palace. Daoists do not enter people’s homes without special reason. When local people come up the mountain to pay for firewood or charcoal, they are issued passes. The palace regularly sends people to patrol the forest with wooden staffs, and those who cut trees unlawfully are punished. Income and expenditure of money and grain are carefully recorded, down to the losses from pounding rice and grinding flour. The palace’s main kitchen cooks ten shi of rice each day, enough to feed a thousand people. The community of Daoists all eat at the palace, and must wear their Daoist robes when entering, as a sign of respect.

The officials in charge of different affairs each have their own courtyards. There are pots and cauldrons in the courtyards, but no one cooks meals there; they are used only to boil tea and water. The servants who guard the buildings, and the people living in hermitages several miles from the palace, are all supplied with food by the palace each day. No images may be set up in the separate courtyards; people go to the palace each morning and evening to pay their respects. When I asked why, I was told, “If the separate courtyards grow powerful, the public palace will grow weak; the richer the courtyards become, the more likely the public palace is to fall short. Once the palace lacks enough supplies, it will inevitably have to ask the courtyards for help. They might agree the first time and delay the second. By the third time, the weak will try to wriggle out of it with excuses, while the strong will simply refuse. The bonds between those above and below will then gradually grow distant. It is better for everyone to share both hardship and comfort, with the public palace providing for all. Only then can the arrangement last.”

Alas, can people of other Daoist communities make plans so far-sighted? I once spoke privately with one or two trusted friends about Master Tang. His hair and beard are graying, and his build is like a bear’s or leopard’s; he already has the strength to shoulder great responsibilities. He is also thoughtful and strategic, speaks little and keeps his word, and combines authority with warmth, sincerity with caution. He manages several hundred people and gets everyone, old and young alike, to follow the same rules. Had he not become a follower of Laozi, but entered public life as a general, he might have commanded the three armies and won renown across the realm. Instead, he is now a Daoist in Jiujiang, living in quiet seclusion among the mountains. It is truly moving.

I have therefore recorded these events. Master Tang’s given name is Derun, his courtesy name Jiyu, and his sobriquet Youjian. Those who assist him day and night also devote themselves wholeheartedly to the palace. Forty-nine people, inside and outside the community, worked with him to bring this undertaking to completion. Their names are recorded on the stele in the Hall of the True Lords for anyone to consult.

I have seen inscriptions from the Han dynasty, including those of Fei Feng and Han Ren. Their characters often do not fill the whole face of the stone: some occupy only a third, others only half, leaving blank space afterward. Perhaps this was left for people in later generations to add to the inscription. I have followed the same practice, in keeping with the old precedent.

On the winter solstice of the ninth year of the Dade era, the Year of the Wood Snake, Yao Sui, Senior Grand Master for Court Audiences and Associate Administrator of the Branch Secretariat for Jiangxi and Other Regions, recorded and wrote this, and also inscribed the plaque.

End of Volume Six of Accounts of the Deeds of the Perfected Lords Investigated at the Palace of Supreme Peace and National Prosperity on Mount Lu.

Volume Seven

Accounts of Miraculous Responses

Yang Taiming Resigns His Official Post and Goes to Mount Lu to Study the Dao

When Yang Taiming was serving as magistrate of Chang’an County, …