《疑仙传》

Records of Doubtful Immortals (Yixian Zhuan), Volume One

Compiled by Yinfu Yujian

Stories of immortals have existed since ancient times. Immortals often move unnoticed among ordinary people, and they are truly not easy to recognize. I happened to hear this account from a friend, and I have recorded it just as it was told, not daring to embellish it, nor presuming to call it outright a tale of immortals. I have now arranged several biographies into three volumes and titled the collection Records of Doubtful Immortals.

During the reign of Emperor Minghuang of the Tang, there was a man named Li Yuan who often wandered at the foot of Mount Hua, eating nothing but medicinal herbs he gathered. He was fond of wine by nature, and the people of the foothills often treated him to it. One day he suddenly appeared riding a white deer, raised his hand to bid the villagers farewell, and said, "I am now going to wander on Mount Tiantai."

Three old men blocked his way, hoping to keep him there. They asked, "You have grown so close to the people here. Why are you leaving so soon?" Li Yuan replied, "Elders, you do not understand: after closeness, parting always comes in the end. I do not dare to defy the course of the times and insist on staying."

The old men asked again, "Now you eat the herbs of Mount Hua, and you are going to Mount Tiantai. What will you eat when you get there?" Li Yuan answered, "On Mount Hua, I eat the herbs of Mount Hua; when I reach Mount Tiantai, I will eat the herbs of Mount Tiantai."

Realizing they could not hold him back, the old men invited him to sit on the grass and poured him generous cups of strong wine. As he took his leave, Li Yuan left three pills of medicine, one for each of the three old men, and urged them to swallow them quickly. Then he mounted his white deer and rode away, and soon no one knew where he had gone.

Afterward, two of the old men took the pills, while the third did not. A few months later, the one who had not taken the medicine did indeed die, while the two who had taken it both lived to the age of one hundred and fifty before passing away. For this reason, people all suspected that Li Yuan was an immortal.

In Puzhou there was an old man who sold medicine. He often walked the streets with a medicine bag on his back, yet never gave his name, so people called him the "Old Medicine Seller." If someone came to buy medicine from him and failed to get any, their illness was certain never to be cured. There was also a wealthy man in Puzhou named Wang Yu, who was calm and quiet by nature, delighted in doing good, and knew a good deal about medicine. Noticing that the old seller carried himself in an uncommon way, Wang Yu prepared wine and food and invited him over, hoping to ask him some questions.

When the Old Medicine Seller arrived at Wang Yu's house, he did not bow to Wang Yu but bowed instead to one of the household servants. Wang Yu assumed he was simply a man of the mountains who knew nothing of etiquette, and paid it no mind. He poured a cup of wine himself and offered it to the old man, who laughed heartily, took it, and drank. When he had finished, he said to Wang Yu, "You want to ask me something, don't you? Ask away. There is no need for so many formalities."

Wang Yu asked, "You will not reveal your name. Who exactly are you?"

The old man replied, "I am a person born of Heaven and Earth, one who lives between what they cover and what they bear. Since the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth gathered and took form as a human being, my surname is 'Person' and my given name is also 'Person.' Why should I presume to take some other name?"

Wang Yu asked again, "You carry only one bag of medicine, yet you can cure every kind of illness. What medicine is this?"

The old man said, "There is really only one kind of human illness. How could there be so many? People depend on breath and Qi to sustain the body. When the Qi is in harmony, the body is in harmony and there is no illness; when the Qi is out of harmony, the body is out of harmony and illness arises. The root of illness is one alone. People insist on dividing it into many names because they have not understood this principle. My medicine is likewise of only one kind. Because I understand that the root of human illness is the same, I use just one medicine to treat it."

Wang Yu asked, "Why is it that when some people come to buy medicine, you refuse to give it to them?"

The old man said, "For a person to stay alive is truly not easy, while to die is very easy. One must nourish oneself constantly in ordinary times in order to preserve life; to seek a cure only after falling ill is already difficult. How much more so when the illness has dragged on for a long time before treatment is sought. How could there still be time to save a life? When I refuse some who come to buy, it is because the cure has already come too late. The medicine I sell is medicine for treating the illnesses of ordinary people, and it arises in the human world. If one hopes to take it in order to attain immortality, one must discern with great care. To understand the principles of life and death and use them to treat people's illnesses is also a kind of merit. I have loved taking medicines since childhood, and so I know their properties fairly well. Only by knowing a medicine's properties can one use it; without that knowledge, using medicine will surely do harm."

Realizing that the old man was no ordinary person, Wang Yu asked again, "Just now you did not bow to me but bowed to that servant. Why?"

The old man said, "That servant is one of our kind. When I see someone of my own kind, I naturally feel no need for ceremony."

Wang Yu asked, "If I now give this servant to you as a disciple, would that be acceptable?"

The old man said, "If you can hand him over to me, I will give you a book in return."

Wang Yu then handed the servant over to the Old Medicine Seller and let him follow the old man away.

(Preceding text) After reading this book, Xi Yu became well versed in medicine and the arts of nourishing life. Later a Daoist came to see him and insisted on borrowing the book to read. After Xi Yu handed it over, the Daoist and the book suddenly vanished together.

Zhang Yu was a native of the land of Yan who lodged in the Jing-Luo region (the capital and Luoyang). He often kept company with the sons of powerful families there, indulging in wine, song, and dance, and passed nearly ten years this way. One day he was strolling alone along the Luo River. The scenery before him was tranquil and lovely, the flowers and grasses gave off their fragrance, secluded birds gathered in the tall trees, and fish leapt across the broad expanse of water. He then chanted aloud: "Human life is like a dream, and how long can it last? Life also brings many sorrows and misfortunes. No one can teach me the methods of long life and nourishing life, so for now let me sing freely on the spring days of the Luo plain."

He had scarcely finished chanting when he looked up and saw a pavilion boat, green and jade-bright, moored by the water, with clear, ringing sounds of stringed music coming from within. Zhang Yu exclaimed in wonder, "Who is out on a spring excursion?" Before his words had faded, a young woman stepped out of the pavilion boat, walked slowly to the water's edge, and chanted a poem alone, sighing.

Zhang Yu was by nature unrestrained and free of constraint, and before he knew it he had walked up to the woman and asked, "Which immortal maiden are you? Have you descended from Yangtai, or come from Penglai or Yingzhou? Why do you chant poems alone, and sigh alone?" The woman was startled, and her expression changed. After a long while she composed herself and said, "I chant and sigh alone, and you, a reckless and uninhibited young man, how can you come forward and question me so rashly?"

Zhang Yu replied, "I am a man between heaven and earth who answers to no restraint, and from my youth I have loved poetry and wine. Just now I saw how lovely your appearance was, and moved by it, I chanted in praise. I only wished to hear a few words from you." The woman smiled faintly and pointed to the green pavilion boat, saying, "We may go there together." Zhang Yu then followed her into the pavilion boat.

The woman had splendid mats spread out and music played on the strings, and she talked, laughed, and drank with Zhang Yu. When evening came, she sighed: "Is the human world truly so brief? Before one has had enough of spring, autumn has come again; no sooner is there a rosy complexion than, in the blink of an eye, the hair has turned white. If there were someone who understood that the human world is not a place to dwell for long, and who was willing to cultivate the Dao and seek immortality, only such a person would be worth speaking with."

Zhang Yu lowered his head and did not reply. The woman then sang: "Colored clouds fly into the heavenly palace, and white cranes again circle in the sky. This place is not fit for lingering long; the road to the immortal isle of Penglai is far." She sang again: "You only envy the arts of long life and nourishing life, yet you are not one who truly seeks long life. Today I part from you at the Luo River, and it is a pity about the spring light within the cave-dwelling."

Soon afterward the woman bade Zhang Yu farewell and departed, riding upon the Luo River. Zhang Yu was greatly astonished, and he guessed that she was probably a water immortal (an immortal of the waters).

For several years the Master Who Carried a Zither (Beiqin xiansheng) wandered through Chang'an, going to the taverns each day to beg for wine. He often carried a zither on his back, and unless someone questioned him, he would not speak, so people took him for a madman. Sometimes he came to the water's edge, and sometimes he sat beneath the moonlight, where he would take up his zither and play. The sound was always deep and moving, and it reached straight into the heart.

Li Taibai heard of him and found him in a tavern, then pulled him along to the countryside. They spread out grass beside the water, sat down, and drank together. Li Taibai asked him to play, and the Master played a piece. Hearing it, Li Taibai could not help feeling sorrow. The Master said to him: "People say that the music of strings and pipes makes people happy, and that only the zither's sound makes them sad. I had thought you would not be moved by the zither, and I did not expect that you, too, could be saddened. From this I know that although you appear unrestrained and above the common world, in your heart you have not truly become unrestrained and above it."

Li Taibai had already suspected that the Master was an extraordinary person. Hearing these words, he bowed and asked for instruction: "Why are you so down and out, Master? Is it your heart that is down and out, or only your outward appearance?"

The Master said: "My heart is not down and out, and neither is my body. It is only that the world regards such a life as being down and out, and so I have come to bear the name."

Li Taibai said: "Since you know the world despises such a life, why do you not change it?"

The Master replied: "If I despised it myself, then of course I should change it. But if it is the world that despises it, why should I change?"

Li Taibai asked again: "Master, do you carry this zither only to play it for your own pleasure, or do you wish others to be made happy by hearing it?"

The Master said: "This zither of mine is an ancient zither (guqin). I carry it because I myself love the elegant sound of antiquity. How could I be wanting others to be happy on hearing it? The sound of the zither is refined and upright, pure, plain and direct, and mournful. Those who understand how to appreciate it will feel joy on hearing it, while those who do not will feel only sadness. It is like your writing: light and fluttering, like butterflies dancing and fallen blossoms drifting away; lovely yet cold, like a young woman. Young nobles and aristocrats take it for splendid phrasing, but those of broad understanding may not consider it true literature."

Li Taibai said: "My writing is frivolous and showy, and truly not worth reading. But surely my bearing, my inner strength of character, and the force within my breast are enough to be called the talent of an immortal?"

The Master said: "Your bone structure looks ordinary, yet your body differs from that of common people. Still, you are not a true immortal, merely a man of high rank. Moreover, your body is impure and your breath (qi) is base, so even your high station will not last long. Simply take care of yourself, and do not be burdened by empty fame."

When he had finished speaking, the Master got drunk with Li Taibai and they returned together. The next day, Li Taibai wanted to take him to the tavern again to drink, but could no longer find him. Several days later, Li Taibai saw him beneath a large tree south of Chang'an. Delighted, he was about to go forward and question him, but the Master suddenly vanished.

Ge Yong returned drunk together with Li Bai (Taibai). The next day, Taibai wanted to invite him for another drink at the wine shop, but could not find him anywhere. A few days later, Taibai met Ge Yong beneath a large tree south of Chang'an. Just as Taibai was happily about to step forward and ask him something, Ge Yong suddenly vanished.

Ge Yong often traveled through the Qi and Long region leading a yellow dog. When people offered him wine, he drank it, but he would not eat any food. He liked to converse with monks and Daoists, and he often spent his nights out in the open countryside. A Daoist named Wang Feng held him in high respect.

One day, Ge Yong suddenly said to Wang Feng, "We can ride this dog together and go sightseeing." Wang Feng asked, "Can this dog be ridden?" Ge Yong replied, "It can walk." So the two of them mounted the dog together. The yellow dog suddenly leapt into the air as if it were flying, and in the blink of an eye they were beyond the Central Lands, at a distance of more than ten thousand li.

They arrived at a mountain whose peaks were strange and beautiful, and whose scenery was clear and tranquil, utterly unlike the human world. Before long, the two dismounted from the dog and, hand in hand, entered a cave. There they saw marvelous trees whose branches and leaves intertwined to form shade, and famous flowers in full bloom, while towering pavilions and terraces mostly stood facing the emerald green water.

Then they went through a red door, where three women came out to greet them. Their features were beautiful and their natures exceptional, rare in the world, and in their manner they all seemed like old acquaintances. They invited the two men to ascend a tower, which had jade-green railings and red curtains and was furnished with vessels like green jade. They brought out fine wine for them to share, and the three women took their places at the banquet as well.

Before long, someone at the feast played the zither (zheng) and someone blew the panpipe (xiao). By evening, everyone was somewhat intoxicated. Ge Yong said to Wang Feng, "These three women all belong to the households of immortals, and they happen to be gathering on this mountain. I knew they were here, so I brought you to visit them. Now that we have drunk together, we should go back. If we stay here too long, I fear we will hinder their carefree wandering."

So Ge Yong and Wang Feng left the cave together, and the three women saw them off at the cave entrance. Ge Yong turned back and said to them, "A year from today, we shall meet again." After bidding the women farewell, the two again rode the yellow dog back. When they reached the Qi and Long region, they discovered that three years had passed in the world.

Ge Yong then said to Wang Feng, "I am going to travel east for a while. You should stay here." As soon as he finished speaking, he disappeared. From that time on, Ge Yong was never seen again.

Peng Zhiwei of Xichuan belonged to a wealthy family on the order of the Zhuo and Zheng clans, with a fortune of a thousand measures of gold. He had only one daughter, who had loved Daoism since childhood. She once asked her father to let her read Daoist books and to follow Daoist teachings, but Peng Zhiwei refused.

When the daughter was sixteen, a young boy suddenly flew into the Peng household riding a white crane. He said to her, "I am a cultivator of the Dao (the Way). I heard that you love the Dao, so I have come especially to teach you." Delighted and astonished to see him, and hearing that he was willing to instruct her, she quietly hid the boy and the crane.

A few days later, a maidservant learned of this and asked the daughter, "What kind of spirit is this? How can you keep it secretly hidden? If your father finds out, won't he think you are hiding a person in private?" The daughter replied, "As long as it isn't leaked, I will quickly ask him for the teachings of the Dao, and then send him away."

Late at night, the daughter fasted, held incense, and paid her respects to the boy according to proper ritual. The boy said to her, "Your heart in seeking the Dao has not wavered, so you will surely attain it." She said to him, "When people wish to study the Dao, they usually must first read the Daoist scriptures and receive Fulu (talismans and registers; here, the registers are the documents of name and rank that Daoism grants to practitioners as credentials of their cultivation and ordained standing). I live in the women's quarters, and my father does not permit it. What should I do?"

The boy said, "If you are sincerely devoted to the Dao, you are no different from those who wholeheartedly love it. Since ancient times, did all those who ascended to heaven in broad daylight do so by reading scriptures and receiving registers? The Way of the immortals depends fundamentally on one's innate spiritual nature (Shen, spirit) and constitution. In the past, the Queen Mother of the West said that Emperor Wu of Han lacked the root and bones of an immortal, and that his spirit was merely arrogant."

The daughter asked again, "Living in the human world, wearing human clothing and eating human food, yet wishing to return to the Way of the immortals: isn't that very difficult?" The boy answered, "Not so. If your heart longs for the Way of the immortals and your will is single-minded, you can move the immortals. Once moved, they will surely enroll you in the registers of the immortals, that is, record your name. Understanding this, you will know that there is a fate ordained within the unseen. For this reason, some people who eat herbs and trees and abstain from grain also attain the Dao. But suppose someone sets their heart on becoming an immortal, enters the deep mountains, withdraws far from the world, wears clothing made of leaves, and trains with great hardship day and night, yet their intention advances and retreats and is never single-minded. Even if they take medicinal herbs and abstain from grain, what can they hope for?"

The daughter bowed again and said, "If that is so, what will you teach me?" The boy said, "Your spiritual nature already penetrates the Way of the immortals, and your constitution is not that of ordinary people. If you resolve never to change, even until death, and devote yourself with undivided focus, you will soon ascend as an immortal." Having said this, the boy rose and took his leave: "The whole Way of the immortals lies in these words. Practice accordingly with reverence. I must leave now."

The boy then flew away on his crane. The daughter said to her maidservant, "I have grasped the principle, and I will surely attain the Dao." From then on, she gave up rich and flavorful food, set aside ornate adornments, and often sat in silent stillness. Then one day she suddenly vanished, and no one knew where she had gone.

Liu Jian was a native of the state of Qi, from a wealthy family, and was fond of cultivating the Dao (the Way). Whenever he heard that traces of immortals could be found on one of the famous mountains of the world, he would take up his staff and go to tour it in person. He took every medicinal herb that grew in the mountains.

In the early Kaiyuan era (713–741, the reign title of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang), Liu Jian was traveling on Mount Bagong, hoping to see its marvelous sights, when he suddenly met a man who called himself Master Xuwu. Xuwu said to him, "I too am a lover of the Dao, and I happen to have met you here. Why not tour this mountain together, and afterward visit another famous mountain?"

Liu Jian was delighted and said, "I love touring famous mountains where immortals dwell, and I never expected to meet you. What a fortunate coincidence!" Xuwu told him, "Not far to the east of here lies a famous mountain, with many traces of immortals. Would you like to see it?" Liu Jian replied, "I would be glad to travel with you."

The two walked east for several days, through remote and desolate mountains and rivers where there were almost no signs of people. Resting at the foot of a great mountain, Xuwu said to Liu Jian, "We have already left the mortal world more than ten thousand li behind. Now that you and I are entering the mountain together, you will find, once you arrive, that it is very different from the mountains of the human world." They went on, and suddenly saw a tall, imposing bridge. As Liu Jian climbed it, he saw that the railings on both sides were adorned with pearls, jade, and emerald stone.

Before long they came to a residence surrounded by mountain peaks that looked like a painted scroll. A plaque hung over the gate, reading "Residence of Xuwu." Surprised, Liu Jian asked, "Why does your name appear on the gate?" Xuwu smiled and said, "Let us go in first, and then I will explain." Inside the gate, Liu Jian saw many pavilions, towers, and terraces, a spectacle unlike anything in the world. Xuwu then led him to sit in a waterside pavilion.

After a while, several young attendants in blue-green robes stood waiting nearby. In the wine vessels and food dishes on the table there were only rare fruits and fragrant, mellow wine. Xuwu pointed to a kind of plant growing at the water's edge and said to Liu Jian, "Simply eating this plant is already better than the herbs of all the famous mountains of the human world." Liu Jian earnestly begged him for some. Xuwu had an attendant row a small boat across the water to the bank and fetch seeds of the plant, which he gave to Liu Jian. Liu Jian tucked the seeds into his robe, rose, and said to Xuwu, "You must live here, sir. It is time for me to go back."

Xuwu rose to bid him farewell and said, "You need not tour any more famous mountains or seek out traces of immortals. Just plant these seeds and eat the tender shoots that grow from them, and you will attain long life. You do not necessarily have to become an immortal." Xuwu added, "Go back by the same road you came, and perhaps you will not lose your way."

Liu Jian did as he was told and returned to his hometown by the old road. He planted the seeds by the water and gathered the tender shoots himself to eat. For more than a hundred years afterward, his hair never turned white. One day he suddenly took leave of his family and fellow villagers and departed, and no one knew where he went.

Dongfang Xuan was a native of Jingzhou who built a thatched hut at the foot of Mount Nan and lived there. He and his wife, Lady Fan, both delighted in cultivating the Dao (the Way).

One day a Daoist priest passed through the mountains, and the couple invited him into their hut to sit. Dongfang Xuan sliced bamboo strips to serve as dried meat and drew water to serve as wine, entertaining the priest with all due ceremony. The priest was greatly astonished by this.

Lady Fan then scolded a bamboo staff, and the staff turned into a large bird. She mounted it and flew off, returning shortly with a set of chess pieces and a board. She said to the priest, "I would like to play chess with Dongfang Xuan." Amazed, the priest asked where she had obtained the set. "I fetched it from the home of a female companion by the South Sea," said Lady Fan. The priest asked who this companion was. Lady Fan replied, "She, too, has some uncanny abilities and often comes to visit me. If you, Master, can wait a little while, she will be here soon."

The priest then asked Dongfang Xuan, "What sort of marvelous arts are these? How is it that you and your wife possess such powers?" Dongfang Xuan said, "I happened to marry Lady Fan some time ago, and she passed these abilities on to me. As for whom Lady Fan first learned them from, I have never known."

While the priest was still speaking with Dongfang Xuan, the sound of musical instruments drifted down from the sky. Before long a woman of striking beauty descended from the air and said to Lady Fan with a smile, "Why have you gone and invited another mundane person?" Lady Fan said, "This priest was passing by the front of the mountain, and I simply asked him in to sit for a while. He is nothing like Dongfang Xuan." The woman asked, "Haven't you two played your chess yet?" Dongfang Xuan answered, "You two go and amuse yourselves. I still have things to discuss with this priest."

The woman then drew her hand across the ground, and the earth became a great pond. Pines and green bamboo grew thick all around it, water chestnuts and lotus perfumed the banks, and a small boat floated on the water. After the woman stepped aboard, Lady Fan tossed a wooden clog into the pond, and it too became a small boat. The two women each set out in their own boat, striking the water with their oars and singing. Their voices were clear and tender, and filled the listener with sorrow.

The priest wept as he listened and sighed, "I have studied the Dao for more than fifteen years, roaming the mountains and seeking herbs without daring to rest, yet I have never met a true master. I never imagined that these two women would possess such immortal powers."

Seeing the priest in tears, the woman and Lady Fan came out of their boats and onto the bank together, looking displeased. They stood facing one another in silence for a long while. Then the woman scolded the pond, and at once, at her word, the pond vanished, along with the pines, bamboo, water chestnuts, lotus, and boats. She and Lady Fan then each mounted a bamboo staff and rose into the air and departed.

Dongfang Xuan smiled and said to the priest, "Master, you had better go home and not linger here." The priest thanked him and left. The following year he passed that way again and went to visit them, but the people at the foot of the mountain all said that Dongfang Xuan had moved away and now lived deep in the distant mountains.

Li Yang was a native of Shu who had studied the Dao (the Way) for more than ten years without ever wavering in his resolve. One day, beside the river, he saw a great turtle whose body was as white as jade. Finding it remarkable, he took it in and raised it. Three years later, the turtle suddenly rose into the air and flew away, then returned seven days afterward.

Li Yang prayed to it, saying: "The way of the immortals is profound and boundless, and was never something to be explored lightly. Ever since I first heard of the realm of pure tranquility and learned of the Ten Continents (the legendary overseas lands where immortals dwell), I have known that the mortal world is not worth relying upon. For more than ten years I have prayed with a sincere heart, yet I have received no sign to strengthen my faith. When I saw you by the river that day, you were as white as jade, and I thought you extraordinary, so I took you in. Now you suddenly soar into the sky and come back again. What does this mean? If you are truly a turtle of the immortals, then you should be able to leave and return once more. If not, then please go away for good and do not linger here."

The great turtle at once rose into the air again and departed, and after seven days it returned. Li Yang grew all the more suspicious that it was an immortal in transformed shape, so he led it by a tether and strolled slowly along the riverbank.

Suddenly an old man came before Li Yang and asked, "This turtle is one I lost. How did you come to have it?" Li Yang answered, "Long ago I found it by this river and took it home to raise." The old man said, "This turtle can fly through the air, and it can also dive to the bottom of the water without getting wet. A person who rides it can travel ten thousand li and roam freely across the four seas. You have kept it for a long time, so now I will give it to you. Try riding it to seek the immortals. Mounted upon it, you can travel to the farthest reaches of the eight directions."

Li Yang bowed in thanks, but the old man suddenly vanished. Li Yang first tested the turtle's back with one foot, and the turtle gradually grew to the size of an ox. Once he had climbed on, it carried him into the river. He saw the water part of its own accord, and as he stood on the turtle's back, he was not wetted in the least. They traveled this way for several days, the turtle sometimes diving beneath the water and sometimes soaring through the air, covering roughly ten thousand li. Frightened, Li Yang prayed to the turtle, "You should carry me back." In a moment he looked up and found himself at the place where he had formerly lived in seclusion.

Li Yang knew that the turtle was no ordinary creature, so he rode it westward. After several days he reached a mountain with forests and trees like beautiful jade, and a jade pool. He heard singing from the mountain's summit, but he did not know what place it was, so he prayed to the turtle once more and rode it home.

Later, Li Yang wished to visit the realm of the immortals, so he rode the turtle eastward. In an instant he came to a vast and boundless river, and in the river stood a mountain whose pavilions and towers rose into the clouds. Li Yang grew afraid again and dared not enter the water, so he prayed to the turtle to take him back.

The people of Shu thought it strange that Li Yang so often went away and came back. When someone asked him about it, he said he was often in the mountains gathering herbs. When others asked about the turtle, he said, "This is a turtle of long life. I found it by the river long ago and took it in. Though its color is unusual, it has nothing else special about it." Afterward, the person who had asked secretly carried the turtle off in the night. Li Yang then set out on a distant journey, and no one ever learned where he had gone.

In Chang'an there was a performer named Zheng Wen, whose household was blessed with a daughter. She could speak from the moment she was born, and by the age of seven she had grown into a graceful and lovely girl who was also skilled at playing the fangxiang (a percussion instrument made of metal plates of different sizes, struck with a mallet). Her relatives all called her the "Fangxiang Girl." When the Imperial Consort heard of her, she wished to summon her to the palace. Her parents asked what she thought, and she said: "Am I somehow a person of the palace? Consort Yang is of my own generation. How can she treat me this way?" That very night she suddenly vanished. Her parents grieved and pined for her, but had nowhere to search.

Three years later she returned home. Astonished, her parents asked where she had been. She said: "I have been staying for a while in the Shangqing Palace (a palace where immortals and perfected beings dwell in Daoist lore). The people there told me that my parents were weeping without cease from longing for me, so I made a special trip back to see you." Her parents asked: "If you belong to the immortals, why did you come to our home to be our daughter?" She answered: "I am an immortal who plays the fangxiang in the Shangqing Palace. I was punished for secretly gazing down on the lower world. I surely cannot remain long among mortals, so please do not keep worrying about me."

Her parents said: "Since you are an immortal, what pleasures are there in heaven? The human world has its own joys of wealth and rank. Why not stay for a time and comfort our hearts?" The daughter replied: "The human world is full of sorrow and vexation, so what pleasure is there in it? In the Shangqing Palace, I am not burdened by worldly affairs or troubled by worldly thoughts. Apart from attending to my duties, I ride the clouds and drive the qi (vital energy), traveling beyond the heavens on a phoenix. Sometimes I drink the jade nectar (the fabled wine of the immortals), visit the isles of Penglai, and climb the Celestial Terrace. At the Moon Palace I pay my respects to Chang'e, and by the Milky Way I play with the Weaver Maiden. What pleasure does the human world hold? If you take wealth and rank for happiness, it only means more entanglements. Besides, a person is scarcely born before death soon follows."

Her parents said: "Then please stay a while and set our minds at ease. Do not weigh which is better, the human world or heaven. Just keep in your heart the parents who bore and raised you." The daughter told them: "If I stay, I will surely never be able to return to the Shangqing Palace." While her parents were still speaking in sorrow, she suddenly disappeared, and no one knew where she had gone.

Guan Ge was a native of the state of Zhao. In his youth he was fond of Daoist arts and did not take up farming or manual labor, often wandering through the lands of Zhao and Wei. By nature he disliked deference and loved to debate.

During one of his travels, he happened to meet Master Zhang Guo (an immortal of Daoist legend). Zhang Guo called out to him, "Come here, Guan Ge." Guan Ge asked, "Who are you?" Zhang Guo replied, "I am Master Zhang Guo." Guan Ge asked again, "Why are you calling me?" Zhang Guo said, "You are not ignorant of the etiquette of the human world. People show respect even to kings and emperors, so why do you not show respect to me?" Guan Ge said, "I am not a ruler of the human world, so why would I show respect to you?"

Zhang Guo then invited Guan Ge to travel with him to Mount Heng (a mountain). Guan Ge agreed. Zhang Guo told him to close his eyes, but Guan Ge retorted, "Can one only make the journey by closing one's eyes, and not with them open?" Zhang Guo said, "That is because your body is still an ordinary mortal body." Guan Ge said, "Your body is an ordinary mortal body too. Since you are able to go, why should I not be able to travel with you?" Zhang Guo then threw the staff in his hand, and it turned into a black ox. He had Guan Ge mount it, and the two entered Mount Heng together.

Zhang Guo led Guan Ge to the summit, sat down, and asked him, "You have seen all the clamor and confusion of the human world and the afflictions of the mortal realm. You have also seen the flourishing and withering of the seasons and the swift passage from youth to old age. Why, then, do you linger so long in Zhao and Wei instead of traveling far and wide? Zhao and Wei are lands of warfare and unrest, and are not suited to those who cultivate the Dao (the Way). If one wishes to cleanse the mind of its thoughts and rid oneself of vexations, one must first purify body and mind, and a place like Zhao or Wei cannot allow this."

Guan Ge answered, "Why should you appear in Zhao and Wei yourself? One who cultivates the Dao should not change according to the place in which he finds himself. My wandering in Zhao and Wei is no different from wandering in Yuqing (the celestial realm of Daoism) or Penglai and Yingzhou (legendary immortal isles in the sea). If you regard other rulers as noble while regarding me, an ordinary person, as lowly, and lecture me with the fact that you are honored by emperors, then even if you were in Yuqing, Penglai, or Yingzhou in the morning and arrived in Zhao and Wei by evening, you would still harbor worldly sentiments. Why should I travel far?"

Guan Ge continued, "You believe one ought to travel far in order to shed worldly affairs the way a cicada sheds its shell. But if one does not travel far, one will still die in the human world, and surely cannot be the same as I am." Zhang Guo smiled and gave no reply.

Guan Ge went on, "Did you invite me to Mount Heng merely so that I could watch you turn a staff into a black ox? Do you not know that all things are capable of transformation? The transformation of a thing is hardly a marvel in itself; people who have turned from humans into immortals have existed in every age." With that, he rose at once, and without taking leave of Zhang Guo, descended from the summit. He then built a hut of thatch in the mountains and settled there. Afterward no one knew what became of him, though someone once saw him on Mount Ji.

Caoyi'er (the "Straw-Cloaked Youth") said he was a native of the state of Lu. He was strikingly handsome and appeared to be about fourteen or fifteen years old. He wore a cloak of straw in every season, and so people called him "Caoyi'er." He fished along the Si River for several years, and no one ever saw him catch a fish, which struck everyone as strange. Someone asked him, "Can fish be eaten as a meal?" He replied, "I don't eat fish. I only fish for amusement." Another asked his family name. He said, "From childhood I never knew who my father was, just like Dongfang Shuo (a figure said to have claimed he did not know his father), so I cannot tell you my surname either."

The people along the Si secretly watched his conduct. When Caoyi'er noticed, he fled to the banks of the Han River and went on fishing there. At first people took him for an ordinary fisherman, yet he still caught nothing. In scorching heat and bitter cold alike he wore only that straw cloak, unchanged for years, and everyone found him all the more remarkable. Someone asked, "What is your name? You have fished by the river for years, and through warm seasons and cold you wear only a single straw cloak, yet we have never seen you catch a fish. Why is that?" Caoyi'er answered, "I am simply Caoyi'er; that is what people call me. I come to fish, but what I fish for is not necessarily fish. Besides, I myself know what I have gained, so why must others know whether I have gained anything? Since I am called Caoyi'er, why would I need another name?"

The people by the Han likewise watched him in secret, and once he noticed, he fled again, this time to the banks of the Wei River to fish. Seeing his handsome features and his lone straw cloak, the people on the shore took him for a recluse; later, seeing that he never caught anything, they were puzzled again. Someone asked, "Why do you live in seclusion? Why have you come to the Wei? Do you hope to inherit the fame of Lü Wang (Jiang Taigong)?" Caoyi'er replied, "I was born with a love of fishing, and since boyhood I have taken joy in the line. I have fished at several waters and found none of them suitable, so I came here. You see me in a straw cloak and call me Caoyi'er. Lü Wang came here because he saw that King Zhou of Shang could not be admonished and wished to assist King Wen of Zhou (the Earl of the West), so he waited here for his opportunity; he was not truly fishing. Now a wise ruler already holds the realm, and there is no King Wen to wait for. Why should I inherit Lü Wang's fame?"

The man asked, "If you are not waiting for King Wen, then whom are you waiting for?" Caoyi'er said, "I am waiting for a stone." The man smiled and asked nothing more.

A few days later, a great white stone, more than ten zhang long, came drifting down the Wei River. When Caoyi'er saw it, he leapt up for joy and said to the people on the bank, "I was never fishing at all. I was waiting for this stone. All these years I have had no place to hold even my own body; today, at last, this stone can hold me." With these words he climbed onto the stone and drifted away with the current, and from then on no one knew where he had gone.

Zhu Zizhen had a villa at the foot of Mount Zhongnan, south of Chang'an, and his family was very wealthy. In the garden, pines and cypresses grew thick with foliage, and flowers, grasses, bamboo, and trees intertwined. Small bridges spanned flowing streams whose courses led no one knew where, and the tall pavilions touched the mists that hung over the mountain peaks.

Zhu often wore a kerchief of kudzu cloth, dressed in light garments, and carried a staff of green bamboo as he wandered at ease and alone, followed by a few women in embroidered robes. When the mood took him, he drank rich, fragrant wine by himself, and people rarely caught sight of his face.

In Chang'an there lived a young man named Zhao Ying, a free and unconventional spirit. Hearing of Zhu Zizhen, he went to call on him. When he knocked at the gate, a maidservant came out to announce him. Seeing Zhao, Zhu asked, "Who are you, and why have you come such a long way to visit me?"

Zhao replied, "I love to sing and I love to drink. I have always regretted that Heaven and Earth cannot keep flowers and trees forever green, and I worry that in this life I will miss the quiet beauty of secluded places and never have the chance to enjoy them. Apart from this, even high office, generous salaries, and sumptuous banquets do not weigh on my heart."

Zhu was delighted to hear this and invited him to drink and take in the scenery on a small terrace. He said, "Gentlemen who gather to roam and socialize usually do little more than enjoy hills and waters. Today we need neither strings nor pipes. Let me bring out a little singing girl for you to see." He then had two attendants fetch a pair of carved wooden phoenixes with joined wings, adorned with pearls, jade, and kingfisher feathers and made so lifelike that they seemed alive. Then a woman wearing a golden crown and robes of figured silk burst into song, and the phoenixes danced to her voice, light and graceful, like snow swirling in the wind. After a while the woman finished her song, and the phoenixes stopped dancing.

Zhu then sang for himself: "Only a few days pass in the human world before blue seas turn to mulberry fields. Who can know the scenes within the grotto-heavens of the immortals? Everyone knows life is brief and the world ever changing, so while you are alive, drink to your heart's content in good time."

Zhao could not help sighing deeply. Zhu then had an attendant take a pill of elixir from a jade flask and give it to him, saying, "Take this, and you will be able to roam the human world for another two hundred years." Zhao bowed in thanks, took his leave, and went home. When the imperial carriage was about to set out for Shu, the villa of Zhu Zizhen at the foot of the mountain suddenly could not be found. Zhao Ying had taken the pill, and he did indeed live for more than two hundred years.

Ding Huang often came to Luoyang, where he called himself a recluse of Mount Song. His hair was as white as silk, yet his face was as rosy as a peach blossom. Someone asked him, "You look as though you are already a hundred years old. When did you go into seclusion on Mount Song?" Ding Huang replied, "I was originally a Confucian scholar in the time of the First Emperor of Qin. Li Si urged the emperor to bury the Confucian scholars alive and burn the books in order to keep the common people ignorant. So I fled into Mount Song, where I met an old man. He told me he could grant me long life and gave me a pill of medicine. After I swallowed it, my hair turned white, but to this day my appearance has not changed. For that reason I can no longer recall how many years I have lived.

"I also knew Dongfang Shuo from the time of Emperor Wu of Han. Dongfang Shuo was originally a child among the immortals, wild and unruly by nature, and the immortals disliked him, so they sent him down to the human world. I once paid a visit to the Queen Mother of the West (a female immortal in Daoist legend), and she told me about this, so I went to Dongfang Shuo to ask him. After hearing me out, he laughed and admitted it, concealing nothing.

"I also knew people like Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao. They were only ordinary men who by chance strayed into the Peach Blossom Cave (Taoyuan Dong, a legendary paradise-like place), but in their hearts they still kept worldly thoughts, and so they could not become immortals. Later, those who single-mindedly sought immortality mostly ascended to heaven in broad daylight (a legendary form of ascension in which one rises to immortality in the daytime) and never returned. I was never an immortal to begin with, so I have often failed to meet such people."

Another person asked, "Since you obtained a divine elixir, why have you not become an immortal?" Ding Huang said, "Although I obtained the way of long life, I do not have the ability to ride the void and command the qi (to govern one's breath and travel through the air), so I cannot ascend as an immortal."

Every year when spring turned warm, Ding Huang would come to the city of Luoyang. This went on for several decades, until everyone knew him. When An Lushan was about to raise his rebellion, Ding Huang said to people, "I will have to flee from the barbarians again, and this is not the same as what befell the Confucian scholars." After saying this he left and never came back. People suspected he was an earthbound immortal (an immortal who dwells in the human world and has not yet ascended to heaven).

Records of Doubtful Immortals (Yixian zhuan), middle scroll

Records of Doubtful Immortals, lower scroll

Compiled by Yinfu Yujian (the compiler)

Jiang Cheng's origins are unknown. They always carried a walking staff with a single scroll hanging from its tip. Jiang lived in Chang'an for nearly a year, kept company with frivolous and dissolute people, and even claimed to have attained the Dao (the Way).

When Master Ye Jing heard of this, Ye went to confront Jiang: "Why do you claim to have attained the Dao? You neither purify your body nor cleanse your mind, and you mingle with the tangled crowds of the mundane world. Why is that?"

Jiang Cheng replied: "My body has no impurity, so why should I cleanse it? My mind is not disturbed, so why should I purge it? To claim the Dao without having attained it would certainly be wrong. But if one has truly attained it, what is wrong with saying so?"

Ye Jing asked: "What do you mean by a body without impurity? What do you mean by a mind that is not disturbed? And what is attaining the Dao?"

Jiang Cheng said: "Jade, even after being carved and polished, remains lustrous, for that is its original nature. Even when placed among common stones, it is not made dull by them. Is this not like my body? The Ji River is clear by nature, and even when it joins the muddy rivers, it does not become turbid. Is this not like my mind? The great Dao is by nature free of deceit. Since I have attained the Dao, to speak is to be in accord with the great Dao."

Ye Jing asked again: "What do you mean by being in accord with the great Dao?"

Jiang Cheng said: "The Dao that can be explained in words is not the constant, unchanging Dao; only the constant Dao is the great Dao. If I regarded the honored as honored, the wealthy as wealthy, the lowly as lowly, and the poor as poor, I would not be in accord with the Dao. I know that people between Heaven and Earth are distinguished from one another, but they do not understand the root of the Dao. The root of the Dao gives rise to a single Qi (vital energy), and this single Qi in turn gives rise to Heaven and Earth, humanity, and the myriad things. Now that the Three Powers of Heaven, Earth, and humanity are complete and the myriad things have appeared, all of them have come from the Dao. Because I understand this, I may draw near to wealth and rank without taking them as my foundation, and I may dwell amid the tumult of the mundane world without feeling myself lowly. I simply live at ease among the multitude. Does this not amount to being in accord with the great Dao?"

Ye Jing laughed and said: "I had thought that, after staying so long in the human world, you could no longer speak of the Dao. You ought to leave the world, and if you cannot, the world will become your burden."

Jiang Cheng said: "I did not leave the world because of your words. I had already transcended it three hundred years ago."

Ye Jing asked: "If you have already transcended it, why are you still in the human world?"

Jiang Cheng said: "I have only come to the mundane world for a time. It is not that I have failed to transcend it."

Ye Jing bowed with clasped hands and made to take leave, but Jiang Cheng caught hold of Ye's robe and said: "You are a friend of the present Son of Heaven. Since your friend is the ruler, you ought to teach the ruler the way of governing the state. Instead you tempt the ruler with matters of the immortals, so that the ruler neglects the realm and thinks only of seeking immortality. That is your fault. You cannot use it to say that I am at fault."

Ye Jing laughed again and said: "Stop covering yourself with such arrogant talk."

Jiang Cheng said: "Do not take me for an arrogant person, and then I will have no need to speak such arrogant words." With that, the two parted, laughing.

A few days later, no one knew where Jiang Cheng had gone. Someone saw Jiang riding a crane over the mountain pass and departing.

Shen Jing was a native of Zheyou who had studied the Daoist arts since childhood. Later he came to Mount Zhong, where he met an old woman. She told him, "Your bone structure is refined, your spirit (Shen) is pure, and your heart is upright. In ten years you should attain the Dao (the Way), provided you keep up your cultivation." She then gave him a white stone and instructed him: "Boil this stone in mountain spring water, and do not let the fire go out until it turns soft, like a medicinal paste. Then you may eat it. If it has not yet softened, you must not let the fire die." As soon as she finished speaking, the old woman vanished.

Shen Jing found this very strange. He built a thatched hut in the mountains and settled there, drawing spring water to boil the stone. For ten years he never let the fire go out, yet the stone never softened, and so he finally stopped boiling it.

One night the old woman suddenly appeared again and asked, "At first I taught you to boil this stone in mountain spring water. Why have you stopped now?" Shen Jing answered, "I boiled it as you told me for ten years, and still the stone cannot be eaten." The old woman said, "This is no ordinary stone; it is exceedingly rare. Since you obtained it, why did you not boil it with a reverent heart and a still mind? Then you would not have had to wait ten years, and it would have softened. If belief and doubt arise in the heart at the same time, then even ten years of boiling will not make it edible."

Shen Jing asked, "What kind of stone is this, really? If it is not an ordinary thing of the human world, it must have marvelous properties, and it should be edible. That being so, why must it be boiled before it can be eaten?" The old woman replied, "It is the fruit of a jade tree (qiong tree). No one knows who dropped it in this mountain, and afterward it was struck by the foul, corrupting winds of the world, and so it hardened. If you boil it in spring water with a sincere heart, it will become soft again. Eat it, and you will attain the Dao."

Shen Jing bowed in thanks, and the old woman vanished once more. He then fasted and purified himself, drew spring water, and boiled the stone. By the next day the stone had suddenly softened, and its fragrance filled the whole mountain. After bathing, Shen Jing ate all of it. At once his appearance grew youthful, his beard and hair turned as black as lacquer, his mind was clear and bright, and his body felt light and vigorous. The people of the mountain found it astonishing. A few days later, Shen Jing disappeared without a trace.

Xiao Yin was a native of Haodi, tall and imposing in bearing, who often traveled among the famous mountains of the world. From childhood he ate pine nuts and parasol tree seeds, and he also consumed raw wood. He kept no company with ordinary people and was solitary by temperament.

Once, when he came to Mount Zhongnan, he met a young woman. She said, "I too am a cultivator of the Dao (the Way), and I would like to ask about some matters of the Dao. Please help me sort them out." Xiao Yin asked, "What do you wish to ask?" She said, "I have heard that since ancient times, those who cultivate the Dao have all said one must keep far from sensual pleasure and desire. Only Peng Zu spoke of sexual union between man and woman. Which of these views is right, and which is wrong?"

Xiao Yin said, "In all my life I have never discussed such things with a woman. How is it that a woman has come to ask me this?" She replied, "In the past, when Peng Zu attained the Dao, he still accepted questions from the Cainü. Why are you unwilling to answer me now?" Only then did Xiao Yin speak: "In those days the Yellow Emperor sent the Cainü to ask Peng Zu about the way of sexual union, and Peng Zu's answer was not mistaken. He knew the Yellow Emperor could not yet cut off sensual pleasure and desire, so he answered according to the Emperor's circumstances. This does not mean Peng Zu truly had nine wives. Since ancient times, cultivators of the Dao have said: the highest cultivators sleep in separate beds, and the middling ones sleep under separate blankets. Even taking a hundred packets of medicine is not as good as cultivating alone. Seen in this light, is Peng Zu the only one whose words deserve belief? Even sages must reach a state of complete singleness, free of admixture, before they can commune with the Dao. How, then, could one who seeks immortality hope to find the way of the immortals without abandoning worldly desires?"

The young woman asked, "Since antiquity some have ascended to heaven together with their whole families, and some have become immortals together with their wives. Does this not mean they still had worldly desires?" Xiao Yin answered, "Those were families of immortals who had descended into the human world and then returned to the immortal realm. They were not ordinary people who ascended and became immortals after years of cultivation." The young woman said, "I understand. I am a woman. Can I too practice and attain the Dao?" Xiao Yin said, "You can. Your body was born receiving Yin qi (vital energy) and lives by relying on Yin qi. If you can hold to the Yin way and not transgress against the Yang way, you will naturally be able to attain the Dao."

The young woman thanked him and left. Xiao Yin then departed Mount Zhongnan and went to Mount Shu. The people there saw that his bearing was unlike that of ordinary people, and they came one after another to ask him for instruction. Disliking being surrounded by questioners, he left that place and continued his wanderings. In the end, no one knew where he went.

Han Ye often traveled throughout the land. He loved places with flowing water and would frequently linger beside rivers. In the Qinhuai River there lived a strange fish, about three feet long, with scales of five colors. It often floated at the surface, but as soon as it saw people, it sank back into the water.

When Han Ye arrived at the riverbank, someone told him, "There is a strange fish in this water. Do you know what it is?" Han Ye smiled and said, "That is not a fish."

Before long, the creature rose to the surface again, shimmering in five colors. The man asked, "If it is not a fish, then what is it?" Han Ye said, "This is the white dragon that Qin Gao rides. Qin Gao has driven it here to summon his friends."

The man asked again, "Who is Qin Gao?" Han Ye replied, "Qin Gao is an immortal. Long ago he briefly came into the human world, and at times he traveled through the water riding this dragon. Fearing that people would be frightened at the sight of a dragon, Qin Gao transformed it into a fish, and so people believed that what he rode was a fish. Seeing it today, I recognized it."

The man asked, "How do you know that Qin Gao is summoning friends?" Han Ye said, "Qin Gao loves flowing water and often wanders through the waters as well. Now that this dragon has surfaced, that is enough for me to know he is calling his friends."

Han Ye then entered the water, took the fish in his arms, and carried it to the shore, where he covered it with something woven from grass. When people came back to look that night, both Han Ye and the fish had vanished.

The Flute Maiden often wandered along the banks of the Han River. She was lovely, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old, dressed in jade-green robes, and she always held a sheng (mouth organ) in her hands. Sometimes, at dawn or dusk, she would play alone, and the sound of her sheng was deeply moving. She would also row a small boat to the riverbank, and if anyone approached, she would at once board the boat and leave. She lived by the water for several years; sometimes she went away for a year before returning, and sometimes she reappeared after little more than a month. The local people all called her the "Flute Maiden" (Chuishengnü).

In the early years of the Tianbao era, there was a free-spirited, unconventional man named Wang Yi. Hearing of the Flute Maiden in Chang'an, he made a special journey to look for her. When he reached the Han River, he did not see her for several days, and he sighed in disappointment: "In Chang'an I heard that an immortal maiden plays the sheng beside this river, so I came from afar, hoping to behold her beauty and hear her immortal music. I never imagined the riverbank would be so cold and silent, without a single figure in sight. Why does she not come here today from the realm of the immortals?" Just as he was about to turn back, content to have made the attempt, he suddenly saw the Flute Maiden approaching alone in her little boat, playing her sheng from afar. She then stepped off the boat and wandered along the water's edge. Wang Yi slowly walked up and asked, "Immortal maiden, you have been wandering here for several years. Are you waiting for someone?" The Flute Maiden turned to look at him and said with a smile, "I am waiting for you."

Wang Yi said, "I have always been burdened by many worries and cares, and I dislike having others pry into my affairs. I long to rise above the mundane world, yet I never knew you had waited for me for years." The Flute Maiden replied, "What in the human world is worth clinging to? Before the joys of youth are fully enjoyed, one has already grown old, and in old age one dies in the end. How could that compare with the immortals living in seclusion on Penglai, dwelling in palaces of gold and silver, riding cranes and phoenixes, roaming at ease? There one may rest in fields of lingzhi (divine fungus) and gather at the Jade Pool, never growing old and never reaching the end of life. What sorrow could remain to weigh upon the heart?"

Wang Yi said jokingly, "Could you let me be a servant who carries your sheng for you?" The Flute Maiden laughed and said, "You still do not know, do you? You have long been my old servant for many years." She then had Wang Yi board the small boat and took him away.

A few days later, the Flute Maiden and Wang Yi came together to wander along the Han River once more. Some people saw them, and Wang Yi asked them to pass a message to the young men of Chang'an: "I have now been taken by the Flute Maiden to roam far away, and I will not return to Chang'an to amuse myself." Having said this, he and the Flute Maiden boarded the little boat again and departed, playing the sheng as they went. From then on, the Flute Maiden never returned, and no one knew where they had gone.

Jingzhong was a native of the state of Zheng. From his youth he loved cultivating the Dao (the Way), and he wandered through the mountains, gathering herbs and taking them as medicine, never settling in one place. Later, as he passed through Shanzhou, he hoped to find companions to board a small boat with him and depart while playing the sheng (reed pipe). After that he never returned, and so no one knew where he had gone.

Jingzhong wished to seek medicinal herbs in the west. An old man of Shanzhou asked him, "Where are you traveling to?"

Jingzhong replied, "All my life I have delighted in taking herbs that can help a person attain the Dao and become an immortal. I have often gathered herbs in famous mountains, and now I wish to look for them in the west as well."

The old man said, "Don't you know? The medicines taken by the immortals are found in the Ten Continents (the legendary immortal realms across the sea). They are not in the mountains of the human world, so why go searching?"

Jingzhong said, "Venerable sir, you simply do not know of the ancients who attained the Dao by taking trees and huangjing (Solomon's seal, a medicinal plant). Were those trees and huangjing all brought from the Ten Continents? The mountains of the human world also hold medicines of the immortals. It is only that people do not recognize them, and cannot devote themselves to taking them with steady perseverance. Moreover, how could the Ten Continents compare with the Central Land? The Central Land lies at the center of Heaven and Earth and receives their balanced and upright Qi (vital energy). That is why all things flourish there, and why its people are not like the barbarians. In the Central Land, every generation has produced those who attained the Dao, yet I have never heard that the lands of the barbarians produced such people in every generation. From this we can see that the tale of the Ten Continents was invented by people in the time of Emperor Wu of Han. Why should I believe it? I have vowed to gather and take herbs in the mountains of the Central Land."

So Jingzhong went west to seek herbs. Twenty years later he passed through Shanzhou again, this time coming from the east. His hair had turned grizzled, and he had still not found the miraculous herb. Another old man asked him, "Why has your hair gone white?"

Jingzhong said, "I have loved the Dao since childhood, and I have been in this world for forty-nine years. Seeking mountains and herbs has worn out my body and mind, and I have not yet risen beyond the mortal world. That is why my hair is white. Why should you ask, venerable sir?" Having said this, he paid the old man no further attention, walked east into Mount Qin, and lived on fuling (poria, a medicinal fungus) for more than ten years, never leaving the mountain.

One night his hair suddenly turned entirely black, and his body felt far lighter and stronger than usual. So he left the mountain and headed west, and before he knew it he had arrived in Shanzhou in a single day. He went to visit the two old men and at last found them. Both laughed and said, "This herb-seeking old man has become young again."

Jingzhong was about to speak when the two old men suddenly vanished. After that, Jingzhong too went off on a distant journey, and no one ever learned where he had gone.

He Ning was the son of a wealthy man in western Shu. In his youth he was fond of Daoist arts, so he left home and traveled far to Mount Tiantai (a famous Daoist mountain), where he sought out teachers and studied the Dao (the Way) for more than ten years before finally returning home. His family asked him, "Have you learned the Dao? Why have you come back?" He Ning replied, "Only after I entered Mount Tiantai did I come to realize the Dao, and so I obtained it without needing to study it." His family asked, "Can the Dao be obtained through realization?" He Ning said, "The Dao cannot be sought through study. I understand that now. The Dao lies only in realization, and I understand this as well. The Dao is originally present within a person's nature. If a person's nature contains the Dao, he will in the end attain it; if his nature does not contain the Dao, he will never attain it. The Dao is within my nature, and so I have already attained it."

After returning home, He Ning ate only fresh fruit and drank wine. Later, whenever leaves were falling, cold crows were arriving, the wind sounded desolate, and the sunlight grew dim, he would sigh, "The human world always has seasons like this, which fill people with sorrow and bleakness." Then he would take up his staff and leave. When spring came, the weather turned mild, and red blossoms and green leaves filled the woods, he would return home again.

Later, a neighbor died. Hearing the sounds of mourning, He Ning asked his family what had happened. When they told him, he rose at once, took a medicine pouch from his staff, and drew out a single pill of elixir (a medicine refined in Daoist practice). He hurriedly had his family place it in the dead man's mouth. Soon after taking the medicine, the neighbor revived.

He Ning then bade his family farewell, saying, "I am going to roam Mount Tiantai once more, and this time I will not return. Take good care of yourselves." He also took medicine from the pouch and divided it among his family, saying, "If you take this, you will live to at least one hundred years." After he left, someone saw him in the countryside riding away on a tiger. He never did return. Those who received the medicine all lived to be one hundred.

Yao Ji was a man of the state of Wei, extravagant and unrestrained by nature. From youth he loved the arts of the Dao (the Way), and once, while traveling at Lake Dongting, he met a Daoist. The Daoist asked him, "You are extravagant and do not restrain yourself, yet you also love to seek immortality and inquire into the Dao. Why is that?"

Yao Ji bowed and replied, "It is my body that craves pleasure, and my heart that delights in the arts of the Dao. I pursue luxury and enjoyment to satisfy my body, and I seek immortality and inquire into the Dao to satisfy my heart."

The Daoist said, "I will now pass on to you the methods required for both pursuits, but you must not transmit them to anyone else." Yao Ji bowed again. From his sleeve the Daoist drew a small jade case containing a scroll and handed it to Yao Ji, saying, "When you have read it through, you will command the methods within."

Kneeling, Yao Ji received the scroll and read it. He found that it set out the method for refining the Nine-Cycle Divine Elixir (an elixir refined through repeated transformations), as well as the art of alchemical gold-making. He asked the Daoist, "That taking a divine elixir can lead to attaining the Dao is indeed an established teaching. But can copper and iron truly be transmuted into gold?" The Daoist answered, "Copper and iron can be transmuted into gold, just as both the wise and the unwise can cultivate themselves into immortals. And all the more so, since copper and iron are by nature pure and unitary. Simply refine the elixir and take it, and refine the gold as well."

After returning to Wei, Yao Ji set about refining the elixir and the gold. Within a few years his household had grown extremely wealthy, and he himself, though once aging and declining, became young again. Whenever the flowers bloomed and the moon was bright, he prepared fine wine and delicacies, invited guests and singing girls, and gave himself over to song and dance until he was thoroughly drunk. At times he chose scenic and secluded spots for outings, riding a fine horse with female musicians carrying stringed instruments following behind, and he returned home only when his enjoyment was complete. His family, too, dressed in light, warm, and splendid clothing and savored every kind of delicacy.

Then one day, while out on an excursion, Yao Ji met again the Daoist he had encountered at Lake Dongting. He hurriedly bowed and asked, "Master, why have you stayed away so long?" The Daoist said, "Your extravagance and dissipation have not been curbed, so I did not come. I happened to be passing through and met you by chance." Yao Ji said, "I have lived in constant indulgence, and, Master, since you did not come, I truly have not curbed myself." The Daoist said, "Now it is time to curb yourself."

Yao Ji laughed and invited the Daoist to come home with him. He displayed brocades and fine furnishings, brought out his treasures, laid a banquet, and had music played, and they drank freely until they collapsed in drunkenness. The next day, both the Daoist and Yao Ji had vanished, and his family never found them again.