《修炼须知》

The Xiulian Xuzhi (What Must Be Known in Cultivation) was written by Chen Zhixu of the Yuan dynasty. Originally included in the Shangyangzi Jindan Dayao (Great Essentials of the Golden Elixir by Master Shangyang), it was later compiled on its own as a single fascicle and entered in the Zhengtong Daozang (Daoist Canon of the Zhengtong Reign). The subtitle here, “Yunhuo Xingchi” (Employing the Fire and Carrying Out the Practice), refers to the use of firing times and to practicing according to the method in the course of cultivation.

The Perfected Boyang said: The yangsui (a bronze mirror the ancients used to take fire from the sun) can produce flame only by relying on the sun; if the fangzhu (an ancient vessel for collecting dew) is not shone upon by the stars and moon, how can it obtain water? Although the two Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang are deep, hidden, and remote, when they resonate and transform they can still communicate with one another. How much more so when they lie close at hand within the human body, the key being a person’s heart and mind. Yin-Yang are matched with the sun and moon, and water and fire are the signs of this working.

He also said: Nature (a person’s innate nature) governs the inside, and a boundary must be set within the heart; emotion (a person’s feelings) governs the outside, and city walls must be raised without. Only when the inner and outer limits are intact can both the person and things come to rest.

The Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture) says: Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) should be unhurried and at ease, dwell deep in quiet seclusion, nourish nature and life, and hold to emptiness, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action).

Yuandu Zi said: Practitioners of the Dao today neither obtain the orthodox transmission nor grasp Pingshu’s words, “Do not enter the mountains before the reverted elixir (huandan) has been refined and completed.” They think only of fleeing the clamor and seeking quiet, withdrawing from the world and keeping far from people, leaving wives and children, departing the dusty world, and living alone in deep mountains and secluded valleys, and they take this for superior attainment. To act in this way is to abandon the norms that ought to be practiced in the world.

Wuming Zi said: In applying the fire phases (the command of process and timing in elixir refinement), one must first fix the hours so as to distinguish the zi hour from the wu hour; next, one joins Yin and Yang as the basis of transformation. The changes of the sixty-four hexagrams are brought into the Yin tally (the signs corresponding to the movement of Yin Qi), and Yang fire is used to drive the turning of the twenty-four solar terms. The Gate of Heaven seems held in the hand, and the Axis of Earth seems present in the mind. One then grasps the pivot of the changes of the seventy-two pentads and gathers them into the cauldron; one seizes the proper Qi of three thousand six hundred days and causes them to converge in the embryo. One carefully regulates the increase and decrease of the fire phases, applies them with single-minded attention, and at every moment remains alert to dangers that may arise, allowing the timing neither a moment’s deviation nor the slightest miss. In this way, externally one can correspond to the transformations of Yin-Yang, and internally one can also give rise to the body of the “True One” (the pure, unitary Qi formed in cultivation). If the mind is not careful and the seasonal markers fall into disorder, the chanü (a term of Neidan (internal alchemy), often referring to yin-natured Jing (essence) and Qi) will scatter, and the numinous embryo (the inner process of elixir formation spoken of in Neidan) will be unable to coalesce.

Yingchan Zi said: The first pass in gathering the medicine (collecting and refining Jing and Qi) is first to discern the moment when tiangui (the physiological signs related to the generation and transformation of Jing and Qi) appears; the middle pass is to know how to harmonize the true breath (the breath regulated in cultivation) so that the breath circulates through the six voids (above, below, and the four directions). One then moves in reverse from the Taixuan Pass until conjunction at the Tiangu cavity, descends to the Yellow Chamber, and enters the Central Palace.

Shangyangzi says that “operating the fire” means employing the fire within the body and the fire outside the body. “Fire” refers to the medicinal fire; “phase” refers to the phase-tally; and “tally” means coming into accord with the proper moment.

When the sage begins to refine the elixir, one must know how lead and mercury meet and welcome one another. When the lead of True Unity is about to arrive, one employs one’s own mercury to go and receive it. Once lead and mercury have joined, an elixir pill the size of a grain of millet is obtained, and it is then gathered into the “Golden Chamber” to serve as the elixir seed.

Operating the fire begins at the hour of zi symbolized by the hexagram Fu (Return). The yang fire must be advanced swiftly; this is called setting one’s hand to the work. The stage of advancing the fire phases is called “battle in the wild.” At this time the dragon and the tiger conjoin. One uses three parts martial fire, and the time of advance is short. Circulating the tally begins at the hour of wu, when the hexagram Gou (Encounter) is in command: one advances the yin tally and encloses and protects the yang fire within. Circulating the tally is also called “ceasing the work and guarding the city,” because the foundation has already been established; at this point one need only warm and nurture, bathe, and prevent minute deviations from gradually developing. This stage uses seven parts civil fire, and the duration must be long.

Even so, both the hexagram Fu and the hour of zi should be grasped within oneself. Only by recognizing the root from which one’s own life is generated can one understand the principle; one need not cling to written words and symbols. The Perfected Ziyang, in the Four Hundred Words on the Golden Elixir (Jindan), says: “The fire phases need not be fixed to set hours, and the winter solstice does not necessarily fall at the hour of zi.” Those who study the Dao (the Way) should carefully seek out the meaning of this.

New Moon, Full Moon, Quarters, and Dark Moon

Yuanduzi says that the “single point of yang Jing (essence)” is secretly stored within the human form. It lies neither in the heart nor in the kidneys, but in the “Mysterious Pass, the One Opening” (xuanguan yiqiao), the crucial aperture of which Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) speaks. If those who study the Dao do not understand the transformations of Yin-Yang and their timing, they cannot accomplish the return and reversion. If they merely grope about on the body and mistake the clear, lively consciousness—the cognitive Shen (spirit)—for the true root, they will stray further and further. The Book of Changes says: “In brightness one accords with the sun and moon; in orderly sequence one accords with the four seasons.” Zhu Zhen’s Commentary on the Changes explains that, between the dark day (the end of the lunar month) and the new-moon day (the beginning of the lunar month), the moon that symbolizes Kan and the sun that symbolizes Li meet at the time of ren and gui.

Shangyangzi says: At the zi hour (midnight) in the early hours of the first day of each month, the sun and moon seem to meet at the gui position; in the evening they meet again in the region of Xu and Bi. This is a metaphor for the very beginning of the fire phases (huohou) in refining the elixir. The scripture (jing) says: “On the last day of the month and in the early morning of the new moon, the Kan moon (symbolizing Yin) and the Li sun (symbolizing Yang) conjoin at ren and gui.”

At this time Yin Qi (vital energy) reaches its extreme, and a faint Yang Qi is about to sprout. This is called the “hidden dragon.” By noon on the third day, the moon appears at the geng position, and true Yang begins to manifest. Geng belongs to the southwest. The Yijing (Classic of Changes) says: “In the southwest one finds companions and proceeds together with one’s own kind.” This means that in the southwest one receives the aid of one’s own kind. The Cantong qi (The Seal of the Unity of the Three) says: “Kun first changes and becomes Zhen; on the third day the moon emerges at geng.” This means that the medicine needed for refining the elixir has only just arisen. The source of the water is clear and has not yet been disturbed; one is precisely at the stage of having Qi, but not yet form or substance.

One who has succeeded in cultivation must seize this moment, observing with wisdom and applying the fire phases according to the signs of heaven. It is like the moon just receiving a single thread of Yang Qi, and like the lowest line of the Kun hexagram exchanging with the first line of the Qian hexagram to form the Zhen hexagram. This is a metaphor for the human body and mind, originally pure Yin, now giving birth to one Yang. As my teacher said: “The single Qi of Earlier Heaven comes forth from emptiness and nonbeing, transmutes the mercury, and enters the cauldron.” At this time the Yang Qi within the cauldron has only begun to spread, and sand and mercury thereby lay their foundation.

The Realized One Zixian (Zixian zhenren) says: “The two Qi of the clear and the turbid, and Metal and Wood, stand separated at the gate of wu and ji; nature and emotion, Yin and Yang, gather at the portal of generation and destruction. One gathers the original Qi from before Heaven and Earth had divided, seizes the Jing (essence) and Qi of the dragon and tiger at their first union, receives them into the Yellow Chamber, and refines them into the supreme treasure.”

At the you hour on the eighth day, the moon travels to the center of heaven, its shape level and straight as a cord. This is called the “upper chord,” and one obtains half a jin of Metal. The Longhu jing (Scripture of the Dragon and Tiger) says: “Kun changes again and becomes Dui; on the eighth day the moon emerges at ding.” This is a metaphor for the lead and mercury in the cauldron gradually congealing to form a flowing elixir liquid. At this time the Qi of Metal and Water comes to rest: one neither advances the fire nor circulates the fu, but only bathes and quiets the mind.

The fifteenth day is the day of the full moon. On the full-moon day the sun and moon stand opposite each other; the three Yang lines within Yin are complete, forming the Qian hexagram. This is like the moon receiving the light of the sun and becoming full, and it is a metaphor for the lead and mercury in the cauldron flourishing, true Yang being abundant, the power of the fire bright and vigorous and the Qi of Metal exuberant, so that the elixir is about to take form. The Qi of Metal and Fire congeals together with the mercury, and the mercury and its mother cling to one another.

After the full moon, in the early morning of the next day, the moon appears in the xin direction, and the Qian hexagram begins to change into the Xun hexagram. This symbolizes Yin and Yang moving in succession. At first, pure Yin joins with faint Yang and gives rise to the medicine; afterward, Yin Qi envelops Yang Qi and brings the elixir to form. The Xun hexagram represents taking up the yin-fu (the fire phase in elixir refinement that corresponds to the movement of Yin Qi). Yin Qi gradually grows, enveloping and fixing the Yang Jing so that it does not disperse. Thus the golden sand falls into the womb: Yin contains Yang within it. This is called “returning to the root.”

In the early morning of the twenty-third day, the moon appears in the bing direction. The middle line of the Kun hexagram intersects with the middle line of the Qian hexagram to form the Gen hexagram, and the medicine in the cauldron congeals of itself. At this time the Qi of Yin and Yang again comes to rest. One neither circulates the yin-fu nor advances the fire, but only rests, bathes, and washes away distracting thoughts. This is the lower chord, and one obtains half a jin of Water. The half jin of Metal of the upper chord and the half jin of Water of the lower chord combine into one jin, used to congeal the elixir cinnabar. The Cantong qi says: “When the two chords unite their Jing, the bodies of Qian and Kun are thereby completed.”

In the early morning of the twenty-eighth day, the moon appears in the yi direction. At this time the Qi of Yin and of Yang are both already full, and Metal and mercury congeal into an embryo. The Qi of Kan and Li revolves within the cauldron and, according to the numbers of the images, circulates through the six directions. This uses the signs of heaven as a metaphor for the refining of the Golden Elixir (jindan) from beginning to end. On the last day of the month, the sun and moon meet again at the ren position; Yin Qi once more reaches its extreme, and Yang Qi will sprout anew.

Shangyangzi says: Although the meaning of the preceding lines has already been explained quite clearly, those who study immortality should still come to realize it in themselves. The dark of the moon, the new moon, the quarter moon, and the full moon—respectively the end of the month, the beginning of the month, the first-quarter moon, and the full moon—must all be verified by reference to one’s own person; one must not cling rigidly to the written words or to outward appearances.

The moon is by nature pure Yin. If it does not receive the resonance of the sun’s yang Qi (vital energy), how can it turn from waning back to fullness? Human beings are like the moon. In the years of twice eight—that is, in youth and the prime of life, when the body has not yet been worn down by desire—a person dwells in an undivided, undifferentiated state, with yang Qi pure and complete, so that Jing (essence) and Qi are abundant and there arises an urge for them to flow outward. Before they have flowed outward, this is called pure Yang, and it is also called the “True Person.” Thus Guangchengzi, the legendary immortal, said to the Yellow Emperor: “When the eyes do not see, the ears do not hear, and the mind holds no discriminating awareness, Shen (spirit) guards the bodily form, and only then can the form endure.”

Once Jing and Qi flow outward, it is as if one portion of yang Qi is lost and one portion of yin Qi is mixed in, and one thereby becomes “Li” (a technical term of Neidan [internal alchemy], commonly used to indicate a state of Yin within Yang). From this point desire arises, primal simplicity is gradually lost, and Jing and Qi are depleted day by day; the depletion continues until yang Qi is exhausted and yin Qi is pure. If one does not understand the Golden Liquid Returned Elixir—the method, in Neidan cultivation, by which Jing and Qi are made to return and recover their original authenticity—then when Yang is exhausted and Yin is pure, death follows.

Only the practitioner who understands the subtle principle of returning and reverting will begin cultivation early, while yang Qi is not yet exhausted, promptly take up and support true Yang, gather in the medicine and the firing phases (metaphors, in Neidan cultivation, for Jing and Qi and for the course of practice), refine the Returned Elixir, and thereby restore the original source of life. This is like Great Yin, the moon, receiving the breath of the sun and recovering its light once more.

Guarding against Danger and Preventing Loss

Yuanduzi says: Those who practice Quanzhen (Complete Perfection), the Daoist tradition of cultivation, should begin cultivation early, promptly take up and support true Yang, gather in the medicine and the firing phases, refine the Returned Elixir, and thereby restore the original source of life. This is like Great Yin receiving the breath of the sun and recovering its light once more.

Yuanduzi says: Those who study the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Dao—a school of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy)—receive from a teacher only a general indication of the methods for beginning practice, yet do not know what should specifically be done at each step. They know that Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) must depend upon each other, yet they do not understand how lead and mercury—in the arts of Neidan, metaphors for Yin-Yang, Jing (essence), Qi, and other elements of cultivation—come together. They know that lead and mercury conjoin, yet they do not understand how nature and life—in Neidan, the mind’s inner nature and the root of life—are fused. If one merely guesses at random about the advance and withdrawal of the firing times in elixir refinement, cultivation cannot succeed.

Zhenyizi says: If Yang fire—in Neidan cultivation, a metaphor for the firing times of the movement of Yang Qi—is applied past its proper moment, it is like an imbalance of flood and drought that turns severe winter into scorching summer. If the Yin phase of the firing—in Neidan cultivation, the firing times associated with the movement of Yin Qi—loses its proper measure, cold and warmth encroach upon each other, and thick frost falls even at the height of summer. In this way, the cinnabar and mercury within the Golden Palace—in Neidan, the inner site of refining and nourishing—cannot arise and develop, and instead pests swarm within the cauldron. When the consequences are severe, it is like mountains collapsing and the earth caving in, with the Metal Tiger and the Wood Dragon—in Neidan, metaphors for the Yin and Yang Qi of cultivation—surging and clashing; when milder, it is like torrential rain and raging wind, with the Kan male and the Li female—standing respectively for water, fire, and other Yin-Yang forces—scattering in every direction.

From this it can be seen that even if one recognizes the two cultivating elements of lead and mercury, yet does not know how to master the firing times and does not guard against the dangers within them, the effort is in the end only in vain.

Master Shangyang (Chen Zhixu, a Yuan-dynasty Daoist) said: constantly bearing danger in mind and guarding against it is the foremost task in cultivating the Golden Elixir (the pill produced through either Neidan, internal alchemy, or Waidan, external alchemy). In the past, when the Perfected Ziqing Bai (Bai Yuchan, a Southern Song Daoist) received transmission from Old Man Niwan (Chen Nan, Bai Yuchan's teacher), he was already sixty-four years old. He hurried to gather the large quantity of ingredients needed to refine the Golden Elixir, and after enduring every hardship he finally joined lead and mercury (two substances in alchemical practice, symbolizing different Yin-Yang forms of Qi) and placed them in the cauldron (the furnace vessel for alchemy) to be refined. Given his usual native brilliance, he ought to have been especially attentive during the stage of warm nurturing (slowly tending the elixir's Qi over a gentle fire). But at that moment he was not careful enough and did not guard against danger. Without his noticing, the mercury escaped and the lead flew off, and nothing could be done to retrieve or repair it. So he wrote a poem to ease his vexation.

The poem says: Eight taels of the essence of sun and moon, half a catty of crumbled cloud and mist. Light as a single swan feather, heavy as a thousand-pound lump of iron. White as snow in the sky, red as the blood of an orangutan. Gathered into a jade gourd, to be kept secret and never divulged. At midnight, wind and thunder suddenly rose, and smoke and vapor filled the heavens. This feeling and this taste are like a mute who has bitten through his tongue, unable to voice his bitterness. All I can do is hold my belly and laugh it off, so as not to let my heart grow hot with frustration. I will set my fishing rod in order once more, and go cut autumn's bamboo joints again.

Master Shangyang commented: Having seen this example, how can one not be careful? Had Perfected Bai not been resolute in will, how could he have mended his fishing rod and cut the bamboo again (a metaphor for beginning cultivation anew)? Later he received the Golden Elixir in Four Hundred Characters from the Master of Purple Yang (Zhang Boduan, author of the Wuzhen pian), who charged him to guard it strictly and proceed with caution, and only then did he accomplish the great Dao.

Therefore, constantly considering danger is the key to cultivation.

In the course of cultivation, the points at which one must guard against danger and avoid peril are not confined to a single place; broadly speaking, there are seven kinds of situations.

The first arises just as one begins to gather the medicine, precisely when sun and moon meet and dragon and tiger conjoin. The practitioner should remain calm and steadfast, concentrated and undisturbed. “Gathering the medicine” and the “congress of dragon and tiger” are technical terms of Neidan (internal alchemy). They refer to the stage in which the Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang comes together and the medicinal substance is generated. At this time one must gather in and contain the Three Treasures—Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen (spirit)—and above all must not let the attention wander, or body and mind may be endangered. Old Master Ziyang said, “The first essence of the White Tiger is the supreme treasure; the divine water of the Flowery Pool is true gold.” He also said, “Gather according to the time and determine what floats and what sinks; in advancing the fire, one must guard most strictly against danger.” This means that in gathering the medicine one must seize the right moment and clearly discern the rising and sinking changes of the medicinal substance, and that in applying the fire timing (huohou) one must be especially cautious. This is the most crucial point of danger-prevention in the early stage of cultivation.

The second arises if, while the medicine is being gathered, Yin and Yang fall out of balance and sun and moon lose their harmony. Even though the external fire timing has already been set in motion, the internal signs (fuhou)—the indications of the movement of inner Qi—do not respond in correspondence, and one’s effort is spent in vain.

The third arises if the fire timing is mishandled, the water-drop is unstable, the source and current of the breath are muddled together, and the medicine is impure. The work is then fruitless and may even cause harm.

The fourth concerns the time after the millet pearl (shuzhu)—the name used in Neidan for the subtle elixir—enters the cauldron (ding). It must be warmly nurtured and carefully maintained so that mind and spirit settle. If the tending is improper, the elixir may be spoiled by the fire timing.

The fifth concerns practitioners who, having passed through hardship and danger, still carry fear and anxious attachment in the heart. After the elixir enters the cauldron, they should do their utmost to clear away these distracting thoughts, keep the mind pure and quiet, and not allow old worries to disturb the spirit. This is called “cleansing away cares and washing the heart,” and it is also called “bathing” (muyu). If any clinging remains, the mercury and the lead—Neidan terms for the essential Qi of Yin and Yang—may scatter and be lost.

The sixth arises after the ten months of embryonic nurturing are complete and one has shed the shell and changed the cauldron. If one cannot properly guard the Yang spirit (yangshen)—the pure Yang spirit spoken of in cultivation—and lets it go forth rashly, then once it loses its direction it will have no abode and nowhere to return.

The seventh arises after the elixir is completed, when one must still distinguish the true from the false. If one’s practice and merit are not yet complete, yet one suddenly sees all manner of numinous and strange scenes, or even seems able to foresee the future, this may be demonic obstruction rather than genuine confirmation. One must by no means conclude from this that one has already attained the Dao (the Way) and become a sage. These deviant and delusive apparitions may lure the practitioner onto side paths and disturb the correct Way. At this time one must make wisdom firm and guard one’s original truth.

All seven of these are great perils that must be guarded against in cultivation. If any one of them is left unprepared for, cultivation may come to nothing, or something may even be lost. Patriarch Zhengyang said, “Once one has realized the mind of Wuwei (non-action) and spontaneous freedom, one must warmly nurture and uphold one’s original truth. Bathing for a full year to ward off danger still requires careful attention, lest one sink and fall.” This is why I say that in cultivation one ought to anticipate peril and guard against danger.

The great matter lies in careful guardianship while the elixir is being refined.

Mao and You: Xing (Punishment) and De (Virtue/Power)

The Perfected Ziyang said: “One must warmly nourish and protect it, so that the true primordial vitality is preserved intact. In the course of the year one must also bathe (the stage in cultivation when distracting thoughts are cleared away and body and mind are harmonized), and guard against danger, lest one sink and lose one’s hold; to this one must give still closer attention. The concern for perilous circumstances and the guarding against danger of which I speak are precisely the great matter at the time of refining the elixir and of the elixir that remains.”

The Perfected Ziyang also said: “In the Rabbit month and the Rooster month, and at the corresponding hours, the Qi (vital energy) of Xing and De arrives before the gate, and the signs of the medicine then appear.”

Shangyangzi said: “Rabbit and Rooster refer to Mao and You. One who studies the Dao (the Way) must understand Mao and You, for their meaning is not of one kind only: there are the Mao and You of heaven and earth, the Mao and You of the year, the Mao and You of the month, the Mao and You of the day, and the Mao and You of the double-hour (shi).

The Mao and You of heaven and earth mean that the three lunar lodges Di, Fang, and Xin correspond to the Mao direction; when the sun and moon in their course reach the lodge Fang, this is called the ‘Fang-day Rabbit.’ The three lodges Wei, the Pleiades lodge Mao, and Bi correspond to the You direction; when the sun and moon reach the Pleiades lodge Mao, this is called the ‘Mao-day Rooster.’

The Mao and You of the year: the spring equinox is Mao, when day and night are equal and the climate is harmonious; the autumn equinox is You, likewise a time of balance in the sequence of the year.

The Mao and You of the month: the eighth day is Mao, when the moon is gradually rounding toward fullness and stands at the first quarter, and at the You hour the moon rises to the heart of the sky; the twenty-third is You, when the moon is gradually waning and stands at the last quarter, and at the Mao hour the moon lies at the center of the heavens.

The Mao and You of the day: sunrise is Mao, when the myriad things begin to stir; sunset is You, when every sound gradually falls still.

The Mao and You of the double-hour refer to a method of cultivation that compresses a longer span of time: the time of a year is concentrated into a month, and two and a half days count as six hou; the month is then concentrated into a day, and one double-hour is divided into six hou. In this way the changes of the seventy-two hou of the year can be concentrated within a single day. From this one may know that a year can be condensed into a day, and the cultivation of a day is in turn concentrated within one double-hour.

One who has succeeded in cultivation must discern the Mao and You within the timing, and know the six hou within a single double-hour. In gathering the medicine and taking the lead (in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy), the gathering and refining of the medicinal substances and the use of such symbolic terms as lead and mercury), only two of the six hou in a double-hour are used, just as only one part is taken from three parts of time. Four hou still remain within the double-hour, and these have another, subtle use.”

What is called “Xing-De” (punishment and Virtue/Power) refers to the “two and eight,” that is, the two temporal positions of Mao and You. Mao and You stand where Yin-Yang is divided half and half: Yang is called “De,” symbolizing the growth of the myriad things; Yin is called “Xing” (punishment), symbolizing their decline and perishing.

The month of Mao has four parts Yang Qi (vital energy) and two parts Yin Qi. Yin Qi is receding, and Yin governs austere destruction; at this time the Yin Qi of the month of Mao can no longer overpower Yang Qi, yet the Qi of austere destruction has not entirely disappeared, so the elm withers and dies by then, and therefore Mao belongs to “Xing.” The month of You has four parts Yin Qi and two parts Yang Qi. Yang Qi is receding, and Yang governs generation and flourishing; at this time, although the Yang Qi of the month of You cannot prevail over Yin Qi, the impulse to grow still remains, and wheat sprouts by then, and therefore You belongs to “De.”

Zhengyangzi says: “All of this is the principle of Yin-Yang moving in hidden subtlety and of waxing, waning, and transformation. In cultivation one must concentrate single-mindedly and hold fast to one’s original resolve.”

Bathing the Mind and Its Cares

The Zhimishi (Poem Pointing Out Delusion) says: “The work of bathing lies nowhere else; it depends entirely on nurturing with the careful devotion of a wet nurse, without slip or error. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) are harmonized, Yin-Yang flows smoothly, sitting together and moving together, jointly turning and transforming.”

Wumingzi explains: When Yang Qi moves to the balanced, harmonious position between Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang are each half, neither cold nor hot, mild and temperate, and thus it corresponds to the hexagram Tai. At this time one no longer continues to add to the fire timing (huohou), and this is called “bathing” (muyu). When Yin Qi descends to the balanced, harmonious position between Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang are likewise each half, neither hot nor cold, cool and temperate, and thus it corresponds to the hexagram Pi. At this time one likewise no longer advances the Yinfu (in Neidan, or internal alchemy, the phase representing the movement of Yin Qi), and this too is called “bathing.” Here “bathing” is a technical term in Neidan cultivation: when Yin-Yang has moved to a state of moderate balance, one temporarily holds back the advance of the fire timing and carefully regulates and nourishes.

Shangyangzi says: What is called “bathing” refers to the moment when the two Qi (vital energy) of Yin-Yang meet in exact union and the Qi of lead and mercury comes to rest. Lead and mercury are technical terms in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), used as figures for the changes of Yin and Yang Jing (essence) and Qi within the human body. At this time the Qi of Yin and Yang blends of itself. One need not add any further fire timing (huohou), nor should one apply phase-matching (fuhou); otherwise one may instead injure the elixir body. One should only purify the thoughts of the mind, clear away stray concerns, and nurture it well. For this reason it is called “bathing.”

What, then, is bathing? The practitioner should naturally set down the everyday moods of sorrow and anxious brooding, of hardship and distress, together with thoughts of attachment and craving, leaving not the least entanglement; let the body be still as withered wood and the mind sunken in silence as dead ashes. This is called bathing.

Patriarch Chunyang says: “Original nature delights in clarity and stillness; preserve and nourish the mind and Shen (spirit), and settle the mind-monkey.” Patriarch Danyang says: “When fire arises in water, one should bring the mind’s thoughts to rest; when flowers bloom in the snow, one should lessen the thoughts of desire.” He also says: “People of the ordinary world lack a mind of clarity and stillness, while those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) have no mind of worldly dust.” This is the washing of the mind’s thoughts.

The season of bathing corresponds roughly to the hours of mao and you; the hexagram images correspond to Pi (Standstill) and Tai (Peace); the climate corresponds to warmth and coolness; and the emblems are xing (punishment) and De (Virtue/Power). On reaching this stage, one should stop advancing the fire and guard the elixir furnace. It is therefore called bathing.

The Cantong qi says: “In observing the timing one must be all the more cautious, carefully regulating cold and warmth; as the twelve solar terms turn, after each term comes to an end one must continue to examine.” The Cui gong ruyao jing says: “When Qi is obtained it is an auspicious sign, yet one must also prevent it from turning into an ill omen; once the fire timing is already sufficient, do not injure the elixir. Heaven and Earth are numinous and subtle, yet the workings of creation do not readily reveal themselves.”

When Perfected Ziyang and Bai Ziqing discuss the method of bathing, they say that the hours of mao and you are only a figurative way of speaking and must not be rigidly bound to the external hours; one should seize the moment when the medicine and the fire timing have reached the corresponding state.

An ancient song says: “Xing and De arrive together, bearing the work of birth and of killing, and come to the gate of two and eight. Cinnabar is suited to bathing; divine water irrigates and nourishes the numinous root. Close the orifices and retain and nurture the golden mercury; draw in the passes and orifices and tend the po and the hun. There is no need to apply fire timing any further; within the furnace it is of itself gently warm.”

When the practitioner’s practice has reached this point, how can one fail to be cautious?

The Lines and Scruples of Life and Death

The Perfected Ziyang said: Cultivating the Golden Liquid Reverted Elixir—a Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) term for refining Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) until they form the internal elixir—requires a thorough understanding of the transformations of Yin-Yang and a deep grasp of the laws by which Heaven and Earth generate and transform. Yin Qi and Yang Qi must be brought to meet on the Yellow Path (Huangdao, a Neidan term for the crucial site or pathway along which the vital mechanism moves within the body), and the three natures of Jing, Qi, and Shen must gather in the Primordial Palace (the place in the body where primordial Qi converges). The Qi of the Five Phases must then be drawn together, and the Four Images (the four states unfolded from Yin-Yang) harmonized and joined. At this point, the dragon chants and the tiger roars, and the husband sings while the wife follows, symbolizing Yin Qi and Yang Qi sensing one another and working in concert.

In the past my teacher said: One who studies the Dao (the Way) must both truly master the inner medicine and the outer medicine—terms in Neidan cultivation for the medicines or conditions within the body and outside it—and fully understand the methods of applying the two. Only when practice accords with the laws of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformation can one receive the teacher’s transmission. If there is a discrepancy of even a thread or a hair, the result will differ enormously, as far apart as Heaven and Earth.

Shangyangzi said: Birth and killing are the workings of the two forces of Yin-Yang, and they may also be likened to the dragon and the tiger. The dragon is Yin contained within Yang and presides over birth, so it can raise clouds and send down rain, moistening the myriad things; yet the Yin force it contains can also kill. It is like a person whose Yang Qi (vital energy) is exhausted, so that only pure Yin remains and death follows.

The tiger is Yang contained within Yin and presides over killing, so it can summon the wind and roar, and often carries an air of slaughter; yet the Yang force it contains can also give birth. It is like a person whose Yin Qi is exhausted, so that only pure Yang remains and one may become an immortal.

When these two forces of Yin and Yang are applied in accordance with natural law, ordinary people are formed; applied in reverse, they can be refined into Neidan (internal alchemy), the elixir of which Daoist inner cultivation speaks. When one no longer turns according to the ordinary Dao (the Way) that generates ordinary people and the myriad things, the elixir can be formed. This is the “birth” spoken of here.

What, then, does the Dao give birth to? Nothing other than Heaven, Earth, human beings, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water), and the myriad things; it also gives birth to the highest spiritual wisdom and to marvelous transformations. And what does the Dao kill? Nothing other than such obstacles as ignorance and affliction, and the foolish delusion of side paths.

Patriarch Jingyang cut them away with the Sword of the Five Maidens; the Imperial Lord Chunyang cut them away with the Sword of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing); the Buddha cut them away with the Vajra King Precious Sword; and the monk Deshan cut them away by means of banghe (striking with a staff, or shouting, to awaken the student). Hence it is said: “To protect life, one must kill; only when the killing is complete can one dwell in peace.” The patriarch also said: “Behead the chi and destroy the mei, and long life is accomplished.” Chi is delusion; mei is benightedness. If one can remove foolish delusion and dark benightedness early on, one can fulfill the Way of long life.

A practitioner should understand that even the slightest error may make it impossible to form the elixir, and so the principle of the birth and killing of Yin and Yang must be thoroughly clarified. If one can comprehend this, why worry that one cannot become an immortal?

As for what is said of hexagram-images, lines, and zhu: “zhu” is used to weigh and fix the measure; the line is used to take something as a model and put it into practice; the image is used to adopt a figure and imitate it; and the hexagram is like something hung up for people to see, so that they may take it as the standard for their conduct. Lines and zhu indicate light and heavy; images and hexagrams indicate advance and retreat. Three hundred and eighty-four lines make up the sixty-four hexagrams; three hundred and eighty-four zhu make up sixteen liang, that is, one jin. When the measure of the jin is sufficient and the number of the hexagrams is full, this figures the Neidan as about to be completed.

The practitioner must know how to distinguish whether a measure is light or heavy, and also how to judge whether advance and retreat are difficult or easy. All these principles serve to explain the two medicines, inner and outer, of the Golden Elixir—the substances and methods used in internal and external refinement.

The Daodejing says: “Being and non-being generate each other; difficulty and ease complete each other.” It also says: “To deal with what is difficult, begin from what is easy; to accomplish what is great, begin from what is minute.” It further says that the sage, because he regards difficulties as weighty in advance, in the end meets with nothing difficult. The text then takes the hexagram Fu (Return) and the hexagram Zhen (Thunder) as the beginning of gathering the medicine, and takes “half a jin” as the quantity of medicine to be introduced. As for the saying that thirty lines constitute the gentle fire and seventy lines the fierce fire, it is meant to show that gathering the medicine is not easy. When the hexagram count is full and the medicine has been refined, the elixir likewise reaches the number in which two eights combine into one jin. The Huozhi (Fire Record) says that two hundred and sixteen is the stalk-count of Qian, and that eighteen multiplied by eight yields one hundred and forty-four, the stalk-count of Kun. When the numbers of Yin and Yang are all complete, the elixir of Golden Liquid is refined.

Shangyangzi said: To seek the Dao (the Way), one must study every day, and that study must be concentrated and diligently pursued. Laozi said, “I was not born a sage; I came to understanding through learning.” Confucius said, “Even in a small place of only ten households, there are surely people as loyal and trustworthy as I am, yet they do not love learning as I do.” He also said, “I never weary of learning, nor do I tire of teaching others.” And again: “When a gentleman studies the Dao, he cares for others all the more; when ordinary people study the Dao, they become easier to teach and to guide.”

The Nanhua Jing (that is, the Zhuangzi) records that Nanbo Zikui asked Nüyu, “Can the Dao be attained through study?” Nüyu replied, “How could it? You are not the right person. Buliang Yi has the innate capacity of a sage but does not possess the Dao of a sage; I possess the Dao of a sage but lack a sage’s innate capacity. I wished to teach him the Dao—perhaps he might truly become a sage. Even if not, to impart the Dao of a sage to one who has a sage’s innate capacity is far easier.”

Confucius said, “Those who know from birth are of the highest rank; those who come to know through study rank next; those who study only after meeting difficulty rank lower still; and those who meet difficulty yet still refuse to study are the lowest of people.” When Śākyamuni heard but half a gāthā (a verse teaching in Buddhism), he was willing to give up his body in pursuit of the teaching. The Yellow Emperor, drawing near to where Guangchengzi sat, advanced on bent knees, crawling forward, and asked, “How should one cultivate oneself so as to endure?” Among the great sages of antiquity, not one understood the great Dao without study. People today often boast emptily and will not seek instruction with a humble mind—how, then, can they hear of the great Dao?

Shangyangzi said: Some aspects of the Dao may be transmitted in face-to-face conversation, while others must be personally imparted by a teacher to a disciple so that the disciple comes to grasp them. Whether between ruler and minister, father and son, brothers, husband and wife, or among friends, if one will not study with an open mind, how can one hear of the great Dao?

Shangyangzi, a Daoist practitioner of Neidan (internal alchemy), said that some aspects of the Dao (the Way) can be explained face to face, while others must depend on mind-to-mind transmission between master and disciple. The ethical norms contained in the relationships of ruler and minister, father and son, brothers, husband and wife, and friends belong to the Dao of the cardinal principles and constant norms. Once spoken, they can be understood and do not rely on mind-to-mind transmission. Even children can be taught these principles. From ancient times the state has appointed officials to uphold them, and they endure without change.

The Dao of mind-to-mind transmission of which he spoke is the path of cultivation indicated by “What Heaven confers is called nature; following one’s nature is called the Dao.” Here, “following one’s nature” means cultivating oneself by going along with human nature. It is also what Confucius called “one thread running through all,” and what Mencius called “what is born of the accumulation of righteousness.” Principles of this kind cannot be grasped by commentaries and explanations alone. If a worthy gentleman meets a sage teacher who transmits them in person, is not startled or doubtful because they are hard to understand, and cultivates according to the way of accumulating righteousness and following one’s nature, he may be called a great sage. He will then also see that the Dao of the cardinal principles and constant norms was already contained within it.

The methods that use the elixir furnace, cinnabar, sulfur, and mercury belong to a path of cultivation that can be explained; they do not depend on mind-to-mind transmission. What truly requires it are the essentials of practice indicated by “Wuwei (non-action), yet nothing left undone” and “acting, and yet acting with a set purpose.” Shangyangzi held that this alone is the great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan). Even an ordinary person can follow an explanation and refine an elixir from cinnabar, mercury, and the like. As for the essential instructions of Neidan, such as “primordial true lead,” even lofty adepts and Perfected Ones (zhenren) of genuine capacity may feel doubt when they hear a master teach them orally. If they receive the master’s guidance and diligently cultivate the Dao of the Golden Elixir, they may be called immortals.

Merely sitting in blank stillness, guarding one’s nature, and observing the fast are methods of seated meditation that can be explained clearly; they are not a practice that truly depends on mind-to-mind transmission. True mind-to-mind transmission is the Dao of “the treasury of the true Dharma eye and the wondrous mind of nirvana; pointing directly at the human mind, seeing one’s nature and becoming a Buddha.” Shangyangzi regarded this as the supreme vehicle, that is, the highest level of cultivation. Ordinary people can hear these methods of seated meditation explained and follow them. Yet the Dao of this highest vehicle may still leave doubt in the heart even of an intelligent and perceptive person who hears the Buddha’s words and gains some understanding.

Thus, at the Dharma assembly on Vulture Peak, five thousand people withdrew. The Fifth Patriarch, Hongren, did not transmit the Buddha-Dharma to Shenxiu, but transmitted it to the Sixth Patriarch, Huineng, whom the text calls “Old Lu.” These cases show that some principles can be spoken, while others must be pointed out directly by a teacher and cannot be made clear by words alone.

Han Xiang attained the Dao and became an immortal, while Han Yu once wrote the line, “Kindly gather up my bones beside the miasmic river.” This does not mean that Han Yu was shallow in natural endowment. Zhu Xi, known as Hui’an, widely sought teachers in pursuit of the Dao, yet Cui Zixu did not transmit the Dao to him; nor does this necessarily mean that Zhu Xi was unwilling to learn. Through these examples Shangyangzi shows that the true great Dao cannot be conveyed by general explanation alone, and that what can easily be made clear is not necessarily the great Dao. The Immortal Elder Ge did not meet his teacher until the age of sixty, and Bai Yuchan likewise did not, until the age of sixty, meet the one who transmitted the Essentials of Cultivation; both later succeeded in cultivating the Dao. These examples show that the Dao does indeed contain what must pass from master to disciple by mind-to-mind transmission.

Shangyangzi said: In cultivating the Dao (the Way), there are three paths of realization.

In the Commentary on the Changes, Confucius said, “Near at hand, observe from oneself; far off, observe from the myriad things.” This is speaking of the Dao. One who has succeeded in cultivation may seek the Dao through the four aspects of near and far, the body and the myriad things, and realization can come right before the eyes.

In the Scripture of Constant Clarity and Stillness (Chang Qingjing Jing), Lord Lao said, “Looking inward at one’s own mind, one finds that the mind contains no fixed mind; looking outward at one’s own form, one finds that the form has no fixed and unchanging form; looking afar at the myriad things, one finds that the myriad things likewise have no fixed and unchanging existence.” This is speaking of the Dao. One who has succeeded in cultivation may seek the Dao through the six aspects of inward, outward, and far, together with mind, form, and the myriad things, and realization may come at any time.

The Buddha said, “Not mind, not Buddha, not a thing.” This is speaking of the Dao. One who has succeeded in cultivation may seek the Dao through the three aspects of mind, Buddha, and the myriad things, and realization can come even while walking. These are what are called the “three kinds of realization.”

The sages of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism) all teach people to seek the Dao amid the myriad things, and they also remind them not to take the Dao for any single concrete thing. This point must be pondered with care and not lightly passed over. The Dao may be called one thing among the myriad things, and the myriad things may likewise be called one thing within the great Dao. Thus Laozi said, “Once there are names, the myriad things arise from them,” and again, “How profound and far-reaching—it seems to be the source of the myriad things.” All these words speak of the Dao by means of “things.”

Alas, ordinary people attend only to commonplace affairs and will not inquire any more deeply. Some nourish the body and sit in stillness by methods biased toward Yin or toward Yang; some keep fasts and precepts and withdraw from the secular world; some fire and refine cinnabar, lead, silver, and the like in a furnace. All such practices may be a turning onto the wrong path, and none of them amounts to true realization. If one can come into true accord with this text, an extraordinary and thorough awakening may occur.

Shangyangzi further said: The Dao is transmitted in three ways. Those of the highest grade to receive it are people of learning and good character, sparing of words and glad to do good; yet even the ability to give up wealth and rank still does not count as true realization. If one can come into true accord with this text, an extraordinary and thorough awakening may occur.

Shangyangzi said: Those to whom the methods of the Dao (the Way) are transmitted fall roughly into three kinds.

The superior kind are people of learning and virtuous conduct. In daily life they care little for much talk, yet they delight in doing good; they can set aside wealth and rank, and they regard the cultivation of their own persons as most essential. People of this kind are called “superior scholars” (shangshi), and it is fitting to transmit the Dao to them.

The middling kind are plain and unskilled in speech. Once they hear the principle, they believe and revere it with sincerity; they can relinquish attachments of affection, practice with effort and advance without cease, and they are not entangled by disputes over right and wrong. People of this kind are called “middling scholars” (zhongshi). They aspire to reach the state of the superior scholar, and it is likewise fitting to transmit the Dao to them.

The lesser kind, though dull, are honest and trustworthy. They delight in doing good and keep far from evil deeds; they can set aside their own preconceptions and listen to others, and they also have the courage to put matters into practice. People of this kind are called “lesser scholars” (xiashi). Their aspiration is worthy of praise, and it is likewise fitting to transmit the Dao to them.

Therefore, of those who obtain the methods of the Dao, there are none who do not press forward with courageous diligence, firm and possessed of wisdom, and none who do not cease from evil and practice good. The single word “goodness” is the stairway into the Great Dao. If an ordinary person constantly hears good words with the ears, the Qi (vital energy) of the kidneys will not be dissipated; if the mouth constantly speaks good words, the Shen (spirit) of the heart will not easily be scattered; if the nose constantly discerns the wisdom of goodness, the po (corporeal soul) in the lungs can be settled; if the eyes constantly see good deeds, the hun (ethereal soul) in the liver can be nourished; if the mind constantly dwells on good things, the spleen and stomach will bring forth primordial Qi (yuanqi), and the Qi of the Yellow Court (Huangting) within the body can also flow freely and be brought into harmony. How could one who has achieved great attainment in cultivation fail to do good?

Shangyangzi said: In transmitting the methods of the Dao, one must also scrupulously observe three precepts.

The first kind of seeker, though the heart yearns for the methods of the Dao, grows proud on account of wealth and rank, is unwilling to seek instruction with humility, and will not enter into a covenant and oath. This is called craftiness and cunning. One should take it as a warning, and not transmit the methods of the Dao to such a person.

The second kind of seeker has only slightly heard some minor methods of side paths, yet insists on contending so as to prevail, and shows off clever views that are not yet mature. This is called disparaging and misleading others. One should take it as a warning, and not transmit the methods of the Dao to such a person.

The third kind of seeker believes in the Dao and yet doubts it, feels no concern at all about life and death, yet values money and wealth and makes light of the self. This is not knowing how to treasure life. One should take it as a warning, and not transmit the methods of the Dao to such a person.

Shangyangzi says that in cultivating the Dao (the Way) there are three faults that ought to be removed. First, some people, though intelligent and talented, like to comment on the ancients and pass judgment on their conduct; this is a sign of lacking De (Virtue/Power) and ought to be removed. Second, some people, though of good character and outstanding ability, like to dispute right and wrong and freely discuss the people and affairs of the present age and of antiquity; this is a sign of insufficient breadth of mind and ought to be removed. Third, some people, though fond of the Daoist teaching and aspiring toward the Buddha-dharma, speak of cultivation with their mouths yet do not assent in their hearts, turning away from the true Dao and chasing after falsehood; this is a sign of lacking sincerity and ought to be removed.

Shangyangzi further says that in cultivating the Dao there are four points of difference—and the text that follows continues: “Some people like to dispute right and wrong and freely discuss past and present; this is a sign of insufficient breadth of mind and ought to be removed. Some people, though fond of the Daoist teaching and aspiring toward the Buddha-dharma, speak of cultivation with their mouths yet do not assent in their hearts, turning away from the true Dao and chasing after falsehood; this is a sign of lacking sincerity and ought to be removed.”

The original of the second passage appears to contain omissions or disordered slips. The surviving wording begins with “yet they like to vilify and contend over right and wrong,” and its content partly repeats what precedes it; therefore one cannot, on this basis, give a complete account of the specific content of the “four differences.”

Shangyangzi said: Those who cultivate the Dao (the Way) differ from ordinary people in four respects, namely wine, sensual desire, wealth, and anger.

Ordinary people often become drunk after drinking only a little wine. One who is ordinarily dignified grows playful and frivolous; the upright person turns fawning and flattering; the incorruptible person becomes greedy and unrestrained; the modest and gentle person becomes arrogant and wild. Drinking causes people to lose De (Virtue/Power) and to forget their original nature. It is like the many strange spirits hidden in mountain forests and marshes, not easily noticed in ordinary times: once a wildfire breaks out, the forests turn red and the marshes grow hot, and the spirits have nowhere to hide. If people do not drink wine, they do not lose the standards of conduct they observe from day to day; if the forests have no fire, the spirits do not reveal themselves. Great cultivators abstain from wine and sit in stillness, drawing in and conserving Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) and settling the mind and Shen (spirit), and they do not let wine throw them into disorder. This is how they differ from ordinary people.

Many people in the world are ruined by sound and sensual form. Ordinary people indulge passion and desire and crave without end, like mayflies that take lamplight for beauty and flame for something sweet, flinging themselves again and again at the fire and unable to leave it. People sunk in love and desire are just the same: even when Jing and Qi are exhausted, passion is still hard to relinquish; when feelings and thoughts tug at them, the mind and Shen scatter; and once the mind and Shen, together with Jing and Qi, are depleted, life declines along with them. Sensual desire itself has no blade, yet the harm it does exceeds that of swords and spears.

Great cultivators seem also to come into contact with sound and sensual form, yet in fact they differ from ordinary people. Even when they go in and out of wineshops and brothels, it is only a playful manifestation; they are not deluded by sensual desire. They understand the saying, “taking what is not form as form; knowing form, yet not taking it as form; form within what is not form; form has no fixed form”—they do not treat appearances as something real and unchanging, and even while coming into contact with appearances they are not bound by them.

What is meant by “taking what is not form as form”? Consider the lotus, whose fragrance can travel ten li. The flower is visible form; the fragrance is a formless renown that spreads. Great cultivators do not prize the flower’s visible form, nor do they crave the fragrance. They prize only the “trustworthiness” within it, that is, what is genuine and not false and can be relied upon. Flower and fragrance cannot last, but the lotus seed can remain and set the heart at ease, and so it is worthy of being treasured. The Most High (Taishang, an honorific in Daoism for Laozi and other revered deities) said, “Its subtle genuineness contains trustworthiness within.” This is the same principle.

What is meant by “knowing form, yet not taking it as form”? It is like clear river water flowing along, able to carry a boat to the other shore. Once that shore is reached, both boat and water are only external things that ferried the person across. The ancestral masters also said that after one has attained the Dao, the chambers and implements used in refining the elixir may all be set down and left behind. This is what is meant.

What is meant by “form within what is not form”? It is like black clouds gathering after a long drought, a sweet rain falling suddenly, and then, in the turn of an eye, the rain passing and the sky clearing. Though the rain clouds are no longer seen, the five grains and the myriad things have been moistened and are able to grow. The Vimalakīrti Sūtra says that bodhisattvas walk among the streets and lanes to benefit sentient beings, and may also enter brothels, thereby manifesting the way of desire. This means not being constrained by external appearances, yet being able to use the situation to benefit sentient beings.

What is meant by “form has no fixed form”? It is like the precious moon (that is, the bright moon), which in the course of a year passes twelve times through the changes of new moon, full moon, first quarter, last quarter, and the other phases. The moon’s appearance continually changes, yet it still has its constant pattern; within change there is also that which is stable and unchanging.

Shangyangzi said that this principle should be discussed as follows. On the third day of the lunar month a faint light appears on the moon, and thereafter its radiance gradually steadies; by the eighth day about half the lunar face is bright, and this is called the “first quarter”; on the fifteenth the moon is full, standing opposite the sun, and its brightness is complete. People of the world all know that the moon undergoes such changes as the new moon (the first day), the full moon (the fifteenth), the quarters (first and last), and the dark of the moon (the end of the month): amid constant change, it also has its stable regularity.

Shangyangzi said further: On the third day the moon begins to show a faint light, after which its radiance gradually steadies; on the eighth the face of the moon is about a half-circle, and this is called the “first quarter”; on the fifteenth the moon is full, opposite the sun, and its light shines all around. Everyone looks up at the moon, yet after its brilliance reaches fullness it wanes again and cannot be kept for long. If one wishes to see it bright once more, one must wait for it to pass again through the first light at the beginning of the month, the first quarter, and the full moon. Therefore the Yijing (Classic of Changes) says: “Join one’s De (Virtue/Power) with Heaven and Earth, and join one’s brightness with the sun and moon.” It also says: “Trace things back to their beginning and examine them through to their end, and one can understand the principle of life and death.” What is meant is that things have no state that remains forever fixed and unchanging.

Ordinary people covet wealth and are never satisfied; they know only how to accumulate and are unwilling to disperse or spend it. They plan for their children and grandchildren, yet they do not understand the waxing and waning, growth and decline, of Heaven, Earth, the sun, and the moon. Shi Chong, for example, was wealthy enough to rival a state; gathering riches brought resentment upon him, and in the end he was killed, his family fortune ruined, and the disaster even implicated Green Pearl. A person who truly cultivates, upon obtaining wealth, uses it to seek medicinal substances and refine the elixir; once the elixir is achieved, the remaining wealth is given away. This is the difference between the two.

Ordinary people also often contend over trivial grievances, disturbing body and mind; they like to bring lawsuits and oppress the poor and weak, and whenever they see profit they seize it by force. They disregard karmic cause and effect and life and death, nor do they understand that regret, anxiety, and danger often arise from this. What they contend for is little, while what they lose is much. King Xiang (Xiang Yu), for example, was once a hero without peer in his age, yet in the end his army was defeated at the Wu River; after his death his corpse was still cut apart, and later generations even looked upon him as the prey of the Han army. If the human desire to contend, even in one such as Xiang Yu, ends like this, how much more so for ordinary people?

What the true cultivator strives for is something ordinary people cannot comprehend: the “Qi (vital energy) of the True One” (zhenyi zhi qi) that exists prior to Heaven and Earth (the source-qi spoken of in Daoism). Shangyangzi said that both the cultivation of immortality and the attainment of Buddhahood rely entirely on this primordial Qi of the True One; without this qi there can be no talk of cultivation, nor can there be long life. This is how the cultivator differs from the ordinary person.

The chapter “Essentials of Cultivation” ends.

Editor’s collation note: In the original text, the character 而 was written as 面, 资 was written as 姿, and 莲 was written as 连 and as 蓬; all have been corrected according to the sense of the passage.