《抱朴子内篇》Vol. 5

Before acting, to ignore choosing an auspicious day—is that not foolish? Whenever you prepare to enter the mountains, if the time is not right, judge by the signs described below; you should not go in rashly.

The Yuling jing (Jade Seal Classic) says that one who wishes to enter famous mountains must know the secret arts of Dunjia (Hidden Jia); such methods cannot conveniently be explained in full to others. The Lingbao jing (Numinous Treasure Classic) says that for entering mountains one should choose “Bao ri” (Preservation Days) and “Yi ri” (Righteousness Days); meeting a “Zhuan ri” (Dedicated Day) is greatly auspicious; encountering a “Zhi ri” (Restraint Day) or “Fa ri” (Cutting Day) brings risk to life. The books do not spell out each of these in detail.

From youth I wished to enter the mountains, so I studied Dunjia texts—more than sixty scrolls in all. They are hard to master at once, so I extracted essentials into a portable digest; still, much of it is not suitable to write down and pass on. Here I only sketch the topic. Those who love this path and wish to enter the mountains to cultivate should seek someone who knows these methods; such people do exist in the world.

The Dunjia zhong jing (Central Classic of Dunjia) says: to seek the Dao, perform rites on “Tian nei ri” and at “Tian nei shi” (Heaven-within day and hour) to drive off demons and apply talismanic writings; enter famous mountains on “Tian qin ri” and at “Tian qin shi” (Heavenly Bird day and hour). If you want evil spirits, tigers and wolves, venomous creatures, and robbers not to approach, set out from “Tian cang” (Heaven’s Storehouse) and enter “Di hu” (Earth’s Door). “Tian cang” means the six Gui days; “Di hu” means the six Si days.

It also says: to escape troubled times and hide on a famous mountain free from worry, choose the Shangyuan Dingmao day. That day is called the hour of Hidden Virtue (yinde zhi shi), also named Tianxin (Heart of Heaven); it is said to suit concealment, as if one sinks into the earth by daylight—the sun and moon seem to lose their light, and neither humans nor ghosts can see you.

Again: to seek immortality and enter a famous mountain, choose the six Gui days and the six Gui hours—the “Tiangong ri” (Heaven Lord Day)—said to lift one beyond the mundane world.

Further: when entering the forest, with the left hand pick a sprig of “qinglong shang cao” (green-dragon upper grass), break it in two, and place it beneath “Feng xing” (Meeting Star); pass through “Ming tang” (Bright Hall), enter within “Tai yin” (Great Yin), then tread the Yu step (Yubu, the step of Yu the Great), and recite the incantation three times: “Nuo gao, General of Tai yin—only the great-grandson Wang Jia may hear; do not let outsiders enter.”

The practitioner first makes others see them as a bundle of kindling; those who cannot be seen treat themselves as no longer human. After entering Taiyin (a dark, hidden place), they perform Yubu (Yu Steps) and recite a spell three times: “Nuo Gao, General of Taiyin, only Zengsun Wang Jia may hear me—do not let outsiders enter.” Then they recite again: “Let those who see me take me for a bundle of kindling; let those who do not see me take me for no human at all.”

Next they break off the grass in their hand and set it on the ground, take earth with the left hand and smear it on the nose and philtrum, and cover themselves with the grass in the right hand. With the left hand extended forward, they perform Yubu and walk to the position of “Liugui” (the sixth Gui stem), hold the breath and stay still—then neither people nor ghosts can see them.

The six Jia correspond to Qinglong (Azure Dragon), the six Yi to Fengxing, the six Bing to Mingtang, and the six Ding to Yinzhong. These names belong to the stem-and-direction system used in numerological arts. The related footwork aligns with the hexagram Jiji (Completion). At the start, the first and second steps do not follow the count of the “nine traces”; afterward each step links to the next, each seven chi long. Another account says “one chi equals two zhang and one chi”; some versions say three chi per step. While walking, one looks back to check the nine footprints.

The concrete method of Yubu is this: stand upright with the right foot forward and the left foot back. Step forward with the right foot; the left foot follows up beside the right—that counts as one step. The right foot steps forward again; the left follows and aligns—that is the second step. The right steps once more; the left follows and aligns—that is the third step. In this way Yubu is complete. Whoever performs any of the world’s ritual methods should understand Yubu; it is not limited to this single technique alone.

The Baopuzi cites the Lingbao jing as saying that “precious days” (baori) are days on which the heavenly stem generates the earthly branch—for example Jiawu and Yisi. Jia and Yi belong to Wood; Wu and Si belong to Fire, and Wood generates Fire. What is called “righteous summons” (yizhao) refers to days on which the earthly branch generates the heavenly stem—for example Renshen and Guiyou. Ren and Gui belong to Water; Shen and You belong to Metal, and Metal generates Water.

“Restraining days” (zhiri) are days on which the heavenly stem overcomes the earthly branch—for example Wuzi and Jihai. Wu and Ji belong to Earth; Zi and Hai belong to Water, and Earth overcomes Water. “Attack days” (fari) are days on which the earthly branch overcomes the heavenly stem—for example Jiashen and Yiyou. Jia and Yi belong to Wood; Shen and You belong to Metal, and Metal overcomes Wood. The same logic can be applied to classify other days.

The Baopuzi also says that when entering a famous mountain, one may choose a Jiazi day or a “opening and removal day” (kaichu ri—an auspicious day in traditional date-selection practice), cut lengths of silk in each of the five colors to five inches, and hang them on a large rock; it is said that what one seeks will then be fulfilled.

When entering a famous mountain one should also know the “Six Jia secret incantations” (Liujia mizhu—protective formulas transmitted in Daoism). The formula runs: “Lin, bing, dou, zhe, jie, zhen, lie, qian, xing”—nine characters in all, which should be recited silently and often; it is said that in this way one can avoid all malign influences. This is what is meant by an essential teaching that is brief yet effective.

The Baopuzi records that among the mountain spirits of the wilds there is a type that looks like a small child, with only a single foot; it walks with that foot turned backward and is prone to accost travelers. If someone in the mountains at night hears a voice shouting loudly, that spirit is called qi. Once you know its name and call it out, it will not dare to molest you. It is also known as re’nei; you may invoke both names together.

Another mountain spirit likewise walks with its foot turned backward and likes to trouble people. Travelers who at night hear loud speech may also cry qi or re’nei, and it will not harm them. There is a further type shaped like a drum, entirely red, again with only one foot, named hui; some appear as human figures nine chi tall, clad in leather and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, called jinlei; others resemble dragons, their bodies displaying the five colors and bearing red horns, called feifei. When you meet any of these spirits, speak their names aloud and they will not injure you. In the name feifei, some manuscript versions write the second syllable with the word for “dragon” (long) instead of “fly” (fei).

According to Baopuzi, when a large tree in the mountains seems to speak, it is not that the tree truly speaks; it is a tree spirit called “Yunyang.” Calling out its name brings good fortune.

Firelight seen in the mountains at night comes from ancient withered trees transformed by age; there is no need to be alarmed. At night, if one sees a shadow in the form of a Hu person, it is the essence of copper or iron; if one sees a shadow in the form of a Qin person, it is the essence of a century-old tree. None of these need be feared—they cannot harm people. If one sees in the mountains and waters a figure like an official, it is called “Sijiao”; calling out its name brings good fortune. If one sees in the mountains a great serpent wearing a cap, it is called “Shengqing”; calling out its name also brings good fortune.

If one sees in the mountains something shaped like an official, or hears only a voice without seeing a body, and it keeps calling to people, one may throw white stones at it to make it stop; another method is to stab it with a reed used as a long spear, which also brings good fortune. When mountain ghosts repeatedly call to people and beg for food, one may throw white thatch at them; it is said they will then die. Mountain demons often bewilder people with illusions and make them lose their way; one may throw a reed staff at them; it is said this can also destroy them.

When one meets in the mountains a strange being that calls itself an official, one may also discern its true form from the day on which it appears and the title it claims:

On the day yin, one who calls itself “Yuli” is a tiger; “Danglujun” is a wolf; “Lingchang” is an old fox. On the day mao, “Zhangren” is a rabbit; “Dongwangfu” is an elk; “Xiwangmu” is a deer. On the day chen, “Yushi” is a dragon; “Hebo” is a fish; “Wuchanggongzi” is a crab. On the day si, “Guaren” is the serpent of the community shrine; “Shijun” is a turtle. On the day wu, “Sangong” is a horse; “Xianren” is an old tree. On the day wei, “Zhuren” is a sheep; “Li” is a river deer. On the day shen, “Renjun” is a monkey; “Jiuqing” is an ape. On the day you, “Jiangjun” is a chicken; “Bouzei” is a pheasant. On the day xu, one who gives its name is a dog; “Chengyanggong” is a fox. On the day hai, one who calls itself “Furen” is the essence of gold or jade; “Shenjun” is a pig. On the day zi, “Shejun” is a rat; “Shenren” is a bat. On the day chou, “Shusheng” is an ox.

Once one knows what these things originally are, one will not be harmed by them.

Someone asked: "When living in seclusion in the mountains, what methods can one use to avoid snakes and pit vipers?"

Bao Pu Zi said: In ancient times Yuanqiu had many large serpents and also grew precious medicinal herbs. When the Yellow Emperor was about to ascend Yuanqiu, Guangchengzi taught him to wear realgar, and the serpents all kept their distance. Nowadays, if one carries realgar from Wudu, choosing that which is as red as a cockscomb, in an amount of five liang or more, one need not fear snakes when entering mountain forests and thickets. If bitten by a snake, taking a little realgar, grinding it to powder and applying it to the wound, will also bring rapid recovery.

Though snakes are many in kind, the pit viper and the green-golden snake are most dangerous when they bite; without treatment, death follows within a day. Those who do not know the remedy, when bitten by these two kinds of snake, may cut away the flesh at the wound and cast it on the ground. That flesh will boil as if over fire, and in a moment will be charred and consumed; the person will survive. When these snakes are at their most venomous in the seventh and eighth months, if they find no person to bite and cannot release their venom, they will bite large bamboo and small trees; the bamboo and trees will wither and char.

When Daoist practitioners enter the mountains, they often know only the great principles of cultivation yet do not understand methods for avoiding snakes; this is no small matter. Before entering the mountains, one should first learn at home the methods of prohibition (techniques of warding off harm through focused intent and prescribed ritual): visualize the sun and moon, and the Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, Azure Dragon, and White Tiger (the four directional spirits), guarding one's body. Then enter the mountain forest, take three breaths in the left hand, hold them in the mouth and blow toward the space among the grasses and trees; visualize the breath becoming red mist and clouds, spreading for several tens of li. If there are companions, however many, have them line up, then blow the breath upon them as well. Thus even if one steps on a snake, the snake will not dare move, and one will largely avoid encountering snakes at all.

If you encounter a snake, face the sun, inhale three breaths toward the left, then hold your breath; press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, pinch the “Du Guan” (a gate acupoint on the hand in Daoist practice), and at the same time “close the Heaven Gate” and “block the Earth Door” (both are bodily gates in Daoist visualization). Next, press something on the snake’s head, wrap it with your hands, and draw a “prison” on the ground to shut the snake inside. In this way you can also subdue or tease it. Wind the snake around your head and neck and it will not dare to bite; if you do not release the binding spell, even when you blow breath on it, it still cannot escape from the “prison.”

If someone has been bitten by a snake, inhale three breaths toward the left and blow toward the snake—you can likewise subdue the snake so that it coils around the head and neck yet does not bite; if the spell is not released, even when you blow on it, it cannot leave the “prison.” Inhale three breaths toward the left again and blow on the wounded person; it is said they will recover and the pain will stop. Even at a distance of more than ten li, you can still send qi from afar while calling the person’s name: if the victim is a man, invoke your left hand in prayer; if a woman, invoke your right—it is said they will also be cured.

Master Jie’s transmitted method is this: when entering the mountains, visualize yourself as a five-colored snake, then hold your breath and strike with bent green bamboo and small boards; then perform the Yu stride (a ritual step in Daoist rites) to the left, visualize yourself as thousands of centipedes covering your whole body, and then leave. It is said that in this way you will ultimately not meet snakes.

Others carry dried ginger and processed aconite behind the elbows, or burn horn from ox, sheep, or deer to fumigate the body, or keep Wang Fangping’s realgar pill on their person, or put pig ear wax and musk pellets under the toenails—texts all claim these work. Musk deer and wild boar eat snakes, so their products are used to repel them. The “sun-carrying” bird and the lynx-turtle also eat snakes; southerners entering the mountains therefore carry the lynx-turtle’s tail and the sun-carrying bird’s beak to avoid snakes. If bitten, it is said that scraping material from these two and placing it under the toenails, or applying it to the wound, brings immediate relief. “Tan” is another name for the turtle-dove.

When people from the south go into the mountains, they often carry live centipedes in bamboo tubes. A centipede can tell where snakes are; as soon as it reaches snake country, it grows restless inside the tube. People then search the grass carefully and can find the snake. If they meet a huge serpent more than ten feet long and as thick as a man can encircle with his arms, the centipede, once it sees it, can subdue the snake with its emitted force, and the snake dies at once.

If the great snake sees the centipede and flees into deep water in a stream valley, the centipede floats on the surface and subdues it by its power. People see something greenish, thick as a rope, plunge straight into the water to where the snake is; before long the snake floats up dead. For this reason southerners grind centipedes to powder to treat snakebite, and all say recovery is very quick.

Someone asked: In the valleys of Jiangnan there are many poisons and dangerous things—what means are there to avoid them?

Baopuzi replied: The Central Plains lie high, and their soil qi is clear, mild, and temperate; in the famous mountains of the heartland, such poisonous insects are entirely absent. In Wu and Chu, however, the heat and damp are oppressive, and stagnant moisture steams upward—even on celebrated peaks like Mount Heng and Mount Huo, many such pests still abound.

There is also the “short fox,” also called the yu, the “shooting craftsman,” or “shadow-shooter”; in fact it is a water insect. In shape it resembles a cicada, about the size of a three-legged cup; it has wings and can fly, yet has no eyes and hears very keenly. In its mouth is a horizontal hard part shaped like a crossbow. When it hears a human voice, it uses this mouthpart to shoot at people, using breath as an arrow and water as its medium. Where the body is struck, sores appear at once; where the shadow is struck, illness follows though sores may not appear immediately. Without proper treatment, death may result. The symptoms resemble severe cold damage; within ten days one may die.

There are also sand fleas (shali), found both by water and on dry land. Right after rain, and in the early morning or before evening, people who wade or cross grassy ground are easily infested; when the sun is high and the grass dry, they are less common. Sand fleas are extremely tiny, like the tip of a hair. Once they attach to a person, they burrow into the skin; the spot feels as if pierced by awn grass, and even a light infestation is very painful. They can be picked out with a needle; the body is bright red, like cinnabar. They can also crawl on melons. If not removed in time, they bore into bone and wander through the body; like the shooting craftsman, they can be fatal.

After passing through infested ground, upon returning home one should at once smoke the whole body with fire and the insects will drop off. Carrying Eight-Ingredient Musk Pill, World-Saving Pill, Life-Protecting Pill, Jade Flask Pill, Rhinoceros Horn Pill, Seven Stars Pill, or jini (Adenophora) will keep sand fleas and short foxes at bay. If these medicines are unavailable, good raw musk carried on the person will also serve. Equal parts realgar and garlic, pounded and formed into a ball the size of an egg and carried, is likewise useful; if already bitten, the paste can be applied to the sore. Red amaranth pounded for juice, taken internally and applied to the wound, also cures. The roots of five-leaf aconite, trailing raspberry, and changteng (Smilax) may each be used alone: pound and take one or two sheng of the juice.

The shooting craftsman insect hibernates in valleys in winter. Seek it when heavy snow falls: where the insect lies, snow will not settle and warm vapor rises as if from steaming. Dig no more than a foot deep and you will find it. Dry it in the shade, grind to powder, and carry it— in summer you can avoid the shooting craftsman.

A Daoist who knows a jin formula (methods using incantation and taboo to drive off poisons) and is versed in the Hundred Taboos of the Caverns, and who daily practices jin rites and upholds Zhenyi (the “True One” visualization practice), will find all such venomous creatures dare not approach— and need not rely on the drugs mentioned above.

Someone asked: “When Daoist practitioners dwell in the mountains, living among rocks and hiding in caves, they may not always have thick, soft bedding for warmth. Is there a method to keep oneself unafraid of wind, cold, and damp? Please explain the technique.”

Baopuzi replied: “If one takes Jin Bing San (Golden Cake Powder) and San Yang Ye (Three Yang Liquid), the effect is nearly complete, and no other medicines need be used.”

Someone asked again: “When Daoist practitioners dwell in the mountains, living among rocks and hiding in caves, they may not always have thick, soft bedding for warmth. Is there a method to keep oneself unafraid of wind, cold, and damp? Please explain the technique.”

Baopuzi replied: “Jin Bing San, San Yang Ye, Chang Xin Wan, the Huncao Naidong decoction, Du Yao Gao, Yin Yu Xuan Hua San, and Qiudi Huang Xue Wan—these seven medicines, if taken for no more than fifty days and then stopped, are said to make one unafraid of wind, cold, and damp for ten years. If one takes the great medicine of the Golden Elixir, even before one can ascend as an immortal, the body can be kept free from illness; one may lie in the wind or in damp places without harm. These seven medicines are for those who have just begun to study the Way. Master Yao took only San Yang Ye and could lie bare-bodied on ice without ever shivering with cold. These were personally tested by Master Jie and Liang Youdao, who lay on stone in autumn and winter facing the cold wind; they are said to have been verified and are transmitted as secret methods.”

Someone asked: “When crossing rivers and seas, or avoiding flood dragons, what methods are there?”

Baopuzi replied: “If one takes San Yang Ye, one can lie bare-bodied on ice without ever shivering with cold. These were personally tested by Master Jie and Liang Youdao, who lay on stone in autumn and winter facing the cold wind; they are said to have been verified and are transmitted as secret methods.”

Note: The last answer in the source text repeats the cold-resistance passage rather than addressing river-crossing and dragons; the translation follows that wording as given.

In the Baopuzi Neipian, Ge Hong writes that if a Daoist has no choice but to cross a great river, he should first break an egg at the water’s edge, put a little flour and powdered incense into the water and stir them in, then wash his body with that water—by this means, it is said, he need not fear wind, waves, or dragons.

He may also wear the “East Sea Little Boy Talisman” (donghai xiaotong fu), the “Water-Controlling Talisman” (zhishui fu), and the “Penglai Plaque” (penglai zha—plaque-style talismans used to avert water disasters). Methods said to ward off water hazards include the “Six Jia Three Gold Talisman” (liujia sanjin fu) and the “Five Wood Prohibition” (wumu jin), among others. Another practice is to recite a blessing when one nears the river: “Furl the sail, furl the sail; the River Lord (hebo) goes ahead to show the way; drive off the dragons; let every calamity vanish and the sky grow clear.” Hebo is the river god of tradition.

The Jinjian Ji (Record of the Golden Simplified) also describes how to make a sword for avoiding water: on the bingwu day at noon in the fifth month, pound realgar, cinnabar, orpiment, alum, and azurite—the five minerals—treat them with the “Golden Flower Pool” (jinhua chi), and smelt them in the “Six-One Divine Furnace” (liuyi shenlu), using osmanthus wood as fuel. When the copper is refined, forge it further over a fierce charcoal fire, with boys and girls tending the blaze. Then cut a length from the metal and forge two blades, a “male sword” and a “female sword,” each five cun and five fen long, taking earth’s power as a symbol to subdue water spirits.

To tell the yin and yang of the copper, have boys and girls pour water on it together while it is red-hot; the metal splits into two pieces—the piece that bulges is male copper, the piece that dips inward is female copper. After you know which is which, mark each accordingly. When you enter the water, wear the male sword on the left and the female on the right; if you only take a boat and do not wade in yourself, on yang days wear the male sword and on yin days the female.

You may also write the “Scripture of the Northern Emperor” (beidi shu—Northern Emperor talisman text) in large characters on silk and carry it on your person; that too is said to keep off wind, waves, dragons, and water spirits.

Someone asked: “Is there any method to avoid the various ghosts and spirits found in mountains and rivers, and in temples?”

Baopuzi said: If a Daoist regularly carries the “Heavenly Water Talisman,” the “Supreme Emperor Bamboo Envoy Talisman,” and Laozi’s “Left Contract,” and maintains “True One” (Zhenyi) and visualizes the “Three Department Generals” in meditation, ghosts and spirits will not dare approach. Second, one may consult the Record of the Hundred Ghosts to learn the names of ghosts throughout the world; one may also examine the White Marsh Chart and the Record of the Nine Cauldrons, and then the various ghosts and spirits will naturally withdraw. Furthermore, taking the Red Stone Pill of the Quail’s Egg, the Night-Shining Powder of Azurite, the Black-Eyed Onion-Seed Pill, or swallowing the Mother-of-Pearl Powder of White Quartz can enable a person to see ghosts and spirits, while those spirits will also fear the one who has taken them.

Baopuzi said: There is a secret talisman of Laozi’s—the Forty-Nine True Inner-Womb Talisman of the Yellow Court. When entering the mountains, on a jia-yin day one writes the talisman on white silk with cinnabar, places it on a table at night, faces the Northern Dipper and offers worship, sets out a little wine and dried meat, speaks one’s own name aloud, bows again, then takes the talisman and keeps it inside the collar of one’s garment. In this way one can avoid the hundred ghosts and myriad spirits of mountains and rivers, as well as tigers, wolves, and venomous creatures. Why should only Daoists need to know this method? In chaotic times, those who flee into the mountains to escape danger should also learn it.

Mountain-Entry Talismans

Baopuzi said: The five talismans above are all Laozi’s mountain-entry talismans. Write the talisman characters largely in cinnabar on peachwood boards, hang them on doors and gates, and at critical spots along roads on all four sides and at the four corners; set them within fifty paces of where one dwells, and one can avoid mountain essences and ghostly beings. They may also be placed on pillars and beams inside the house. Anyone who lives in the mountains, or who merely enters the mountains for a time, may use them; then the various strange beings will not dare harm a person. The three talismans may be joined on a single board. His meaning is: you are not of the Ge clan.

Baopuzi said: These are also Laozi’s mountain-entry talismans. Whether one goes to live in the mountains or merely enters them for a while, one may use them; then the various strange beings will not dare harm a person. The three talismans may be joined on a single board. His meaning is: you are not of the Ge clan.

Baopuzi says: This talisman is also one that Lord Lao (Laojun, a deity revered in Daoism) used when entering the mountains; it may be applied to the doors, beams, and pillars inside the dwelling. Whether one lives in the mountains or merely passes through them for a time, it is appropriate to use it.

Baopuzi says: This is the mountain-entry talisman against tigers and wolves transmitted by the immortal Chen Anshi. Write two talismans in cinnabar on silk and wear them separately; carry them on the person in daily life, and also place four at each place of residence. When moving or setting out on a journey, take the talismans off and store them away. This is a very secret method. The “mountain-opening talisman” (kaishan fu) can open the gate of a famous mountain that has stood for a thousand years, enabling one to see within the hidden store of ancient books, gold and jade, and other secret treasures. The above is one way of doing it; the whole is the same in principle, with only slight differences in detail.

Baopuzi says: This is the talisman Lord Lao wore; it is also the divine seal for subduing all ghosts, snakes, vipers, tigers, and wolves. Carve it from the heartwood of the jujube tree into a square two cun on a side; after carving, bow twice and then wear it—it is said to be very efficacious. This talisman too was transmitted by the immortal Chen Anshi.

Talisman Worn When Entering the Mountains

These three talismans may also be hung together on the left, right, front, and rear of cattle and horse sheds, and on pig pens, to keep away tigers and wolves.

Someone asked: I once heard that Tan Chang could sometimes walk on water and sometimes stay underwater for a long time—what method did he use?

Baopuzi replied: After mixing with scallion juice… The text that follows here repeats the instruction to apply it to cattle and horse sheds and pig pens to avoid tigers and wolves—the same usage as for the talismans described above.

The Baopuzi says that if you mix scallion juice with cassia bark, form the mixture into pills the size of paulownia seeds, and take them three times a day for three years straight, you will be able to walk on the surface of water. Master Zheng said that by practicing breath-holding alone—until you can hold your breath for as long as a thousand normal breaths would take—with long practice you can stay underwater for roughly a whole day.

If you obtain genuine tongtian rhinoceros horn—the kind said in legend to communicate with heaven and ward off poison—take a piece three inches or longer, carve it into the shape of a fish, hold it in your mouth, and enter the water; the water will part to either side, leaving an open space about three feet square so that you can breathe underwater. On such a horn there is a red vein like a fine thread running from the base to the tip. If you use the horn as a container for rice and place it among chickens, they will want to peck the rice but will start back in alarm several inches from the horn; for this reason people in the south sometimes call it “chicken-frightening rhinoceros.” Put this horn on a pile of grain and no bird will dare to land. On a night of thick fog and heavy dew, set it in the middle of a courtyard and even the dew will not wet the horn. It is said that the tongtian rhinoceros lives deep in the mountains; on dark nights its glow shines as brightly as a torch.

Use such a horn as a stirrer: dip it into the broth of a poisonous drug and stir; the liquid will foam white, and it is said that this shows the poison has been neutralized. Stir something non-toxic and it will not foam—so people use this to tell poison from harmless substances. When traveling in regions where insect poisons are common, at another’s table for food or drink they often stir first with rhinoceros horn. If someone is struck by a poisoned arrow and is near death, they pierce the wound with rhinoceros horn; it is said foam will rise from the wound and the person then recovers.

The reason tongtian rhinoceros horn is said to counteract poisons is that the animal feeds only on poisonous hundred-herbs and thorny trees, and does not eat soft, smooth plants. Each year in the mountains it sheds its horn once.

There is a kind of rhinoceros whose horn grows in the crevices of rock. When someone removes the horn, they carve a piece of wood to match its grain and shape, place it back as a substitute, and the rhinoceros notices nothing amiss. Only after a year will it knock off the false horn and restore its own. Horns from other rhinoceros species can also repel evil and neutralize poison, but they are not as potent as the “tongtian” rhinoceros—the horn said to connect with heaven.

Some say that if one takes the Six Wu talisman (a Daoist fu linked to the Six Wu days) every day for a thousand days in a row, or ingests the red-striped spider together with the sevenfold water horse and the Fengyi Water Immortal Pill (a legendary elixir associated with Fengyi, the water spirit), one can dwell beneath the water; if the medicine is smeared on the soles of the feet, one can walk on the surface of the water. It is even said that the grime from a human scalp can make metal float on water—how much more potent, then, are these spells and drugs?

Someone asked: “Most people who cultivate the Dao live in mountain forests, yet tigers and wolves there often harm people. What method can be used to avoid them?”

It is even said that the grime from a human scalp can make metal float on water—how much more potent, then, are these spells and drugs?

This talisman is the “Lord Lao Enter-the-Mountain Talisman”; the explanatory text below already states as much. You may also paste it on the beams and pillars inside the house. Anyone who lives in the mountains and forests, or who merely enters them for a time, may use it.

Inner Chapters of Baopuzi, Volume Seventeen, complete.

Inner Chapters of Baopuzi, Volume Eighteen

Earthly Truth (title of this fascicle)

The Baopuzi says: “I heard my teacher say that whoever can grasp the One (Yi) can understand all things. Understand the One and nothing is beyond knowing; fail to understand the One and nothing can be truly known. The Dao begins from the One; it is supreme and without equal. The One occupies distinct stations, standing for Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, and is therefore called the Three-One (Sanyi).

Gold sinks to the bottom of water; feathers float on the surface. Mountains stand firm; rivers keep flowing. The One cannot be seen or heard, yet it is present within all this; neglect it and it seems to disappear. Align with it and fortune follows; go against it and misfortune comes. Hold fast to it and lasting blessing endures; lose it and life wanes until original qi (yuanqi) is spent.

Laozi said: “Indistinct and dim—there is something there; vague and hazy—there is something real.” That “something” is the One. Hence the immortality scriptures say: “If you seek long life, understand and guard the One. When hunger comes, think of the One and the One will give you food; when thirst comes, think of the One and the One will give you drink.”

The One has a name, a form, and a color: in men its stature is nine tenths [in the traditional measure]; in women, six tenths. Sometimes it dwells in the lower Dantian (xiadan), two cun and four fen below the navel; sometimes in the middle Dantian (zhongdan), at the crimson palace and golden pass beneath the heart. Some hold that it lies between the eyebrows: one cun inward is the Bright Hall (Mingtang), two cun the Inner Chamber (Dongfang), three cun the upper Dantian (shangdan). These are matters the Daoist lineages treat as central, passed from master to disciple by blood-oath and oral transmission, together with the name of the One.

The One makes yin and yang complete each other and drives the turn of cold and heat through the seasons: spring relies on it to sprout, summer to grow, autumn to gather, winter to store. In magnitude it cannot be measured by the six directions (heaven, earth, and the four quarters); in fineness it cannot be matched to the tip of a hair.

In former times the Yellow Emperor traveled east to Green Mound, passed Wind Mountain, and met the Master of the Purple Mansion (Zifu), from whom he received the Three Sovereigns Inner Scripture (Sanhuang Neiwen) and used it to command and summon the myriad spirits. He went south to the stretch of the Jian River north of Round Mound Mountain, watched where the hundred numina ascended, picked the flowers of Ruogan, and drank the waters of Danpei. Going west he met Zhonghuangzi and received the Ninefold Addition Method (Jiujia zhi fang); he passed Mount Kongtong and studied the Scripture of Naturalness (Ziran jing) with Guangchengzi. He traveled north to Hong Embankment, climbed Mount Juci, met Lord Great Wei and the Yellow Canopy Lad, and received the Chart of Divine Mushrooms (Shenzhi tu). On his return he ascended Royal Chamber Mountain and obtained the Record of Golden Formulas (Jinjue ji), which sets forth the method of refining the divine elixir.

Later the Yellow Emperor went to Mount Emei, entered the Jade Hall, and paid respects to the True One of Heaven (Tianzhen Huangren), asking instruction in the way of True Unity (Zhenyi zhi dao)—the practice of holding to the authentic and cultivating single-minded concentration. The True One said: “You already rule the four seas; do you still wish to seek long life—is that not wanting too much?” The full account cannot be given in detail; only a brief outline is offered here. The immortal recipe for long life is none other than the Golden Elixir (jindan); to guard the body and ward off harm, nothing surpasses the method of True Unity (shouyi), which is why the ancients prized it above all. The Classic of Immortals (Xian jing) states that the Ninefold Revolving Elixir (Jiuzhuan dan), the Scripture of Golden Liquid (Jinye jing), and the Formula of Keeping to the One (Shouyi jue) are all stored in the five citadels of Kunlun, kept in jade caskets, inscribed on golden slips, sealed with purple clay, and stamped with the seal of the Central Register.

I heard from my late master that True Unity (Zhenyi)—the authentic Way upheld in practice—resides in the Great Abyss at the Northern Pole. Before it lies the Bright Hall (Mingtang); behind it, the Crimson Palace (Jiangong). The Canopy of Splendor rises high and the Golden Tower arches overhead. To the left stands the Gang star; to the right, the Kui star. Waves surge and thrust toward the sky. Mysterious fungus covers the cliffs; cinnabar grass flourishes; white jade peaks stand tall, lit by the radiance of sun and moon. The practitioner passes through fire and water, travels the dark abyss (Xuanming), and crosses the Yellow Spring. Palaces and towers interweave before the eyes; curtains and banners gleam in profusion. Dragon and tiger stand guard on either side; divine beings attend at one’s side.

Neither giving nor taking; resting where one belongs—neither hasty nor slack, at ease with gain and loss, the mind calm and settled—then True Unity will not depart. Guard the One and preserve the true, and one can communicate with the spirits; reduce desires and moderate food and drink, and True Unity can remain. Even when a sharp blade presses the throat, if the heart holds to True Unity, life may still be found.

Knowing True Unity is not hard; the hard part is persisting without fail. Hold fast without losing it, and one will long know no want. Such a person on land can avoid fierce beasts; in water can make dragons and serpents retreat; need not fear evil sprites or venomous insects. Ghosts and spirits dare not approach; blades can scarcely harm the body. This is the general purport of cultivating True Unity.

Baopuzi said: “I heard my teacher say that the books of Daoist arts record thousands of methods for warding off evil and protecting oneself through visualization and contemplation—for example, hiding one’s shadow and concealing one’s form, guarding the form so that life is not lost, as well as the Nine Transformations, Twelve Transformations, Twenty-Four Births, and similar techniques; there are also methods of visualizing the spirits within the body and making them appear through inner observation. Such methods are too many to count, and each has its own measure of efficacy.

“Yet protecting oneself by visualizing thousands of things is usually cumbersome and difficult, and easily overtaxes the spirit. If one understands the way of guarding the One (shouyi)—steadily holding to the ‘One’ at the core of the mind in Daoist practice—one can set aside these numerous methods; hence it is said, ‘Understand guarding the One, and all affairs can be settled.’

“The transmission of the true oral formula for the One has fixed ritual and agreement: master and disciple drink the blood of a white victim, receive it on an auspicious day in the ‘king and minister’ phase, and use white silk and white silver as tokens of faith; a golden contract is engraved and each keeps half. If it is lightly divulged or rashly passed on, the formula will not work.

“When a person can guard the One, the One also guards that person. Therefore sharp weapons cannot harm him, and every kind of disaster cannot assail him; even in defeat he can turn danger into safety. In ghost shrines, mountain forests, places where plague rages, among graves, or where tigers, wolves, and poisonous snakes appear—if he does not slacken in guarding the One, all manner of evil beings will keep far away. If he forgets to guard the One for a moment and is troubled by demons—for instance, if he is oppressed while asleep—he should go into the courtyard, look up at the Auxiliary Star (near the Northern Dipper), grasp firmly (woguo, clenching the fist to gather the spirit), and guard the One; the demon will leave. On rainy days when he cannot go out, he need only stay indoors, face north, and visualize the Auxiliary Star.

“If besieged by enemy troops with no way out, he may try to enter the yin realm of the Six Jia (a direction or time in Daoist numerology used to hide and avoid harm), lie low, and guard the One; it is said that no weapon can hurt him.

“One who can guard the One need not choose lucky days for a journey of ten thousand li, for joining the army, or for crossing a great river; for breaking ground, moving house, or entering a new dwelling, he need not follow geomancy and the star calendar to avoid Tai Sui, Tai Yin, Yue Jian, sha and hao, and taboos of his birth year—and in the end he will not meet calamity. This is a method that the ancients tested again and again and found effective.”

Baopuzi states that in the practice of Xuanyi (holding fast to the subtle root of unity), one need no longer choose dates by geomancy (kanyu) or the star calendar, nor avoid taboos tied to Tai Sui, the General of Taiyin, yuejian, sha and hao spirits, or prohibitions linked to one’s birth year—and one will not ultimately suffer harm on that account. Sages have tested this again and again, and it has proven effective.

Baopuzi also says that Xuanyi is an important method for warding off all kinds of calamity, with effects comparable to Zhenyi (another form of “holding the One”). The first chapter of Baopuzi Neipian is titled Chang Xuan (“Expounding the Mysterious”) for exactly this reason. Guarding Xuanyi is easier than guarding Zhenyi: Zhenyi is defined by a name, bodily stature, and the color of its garments, whereas Xuanyi simply appears in such a form. At the outset, one seeks it in sunlight—what is called “knowing the white and keeping to the black”; it is said that a practitioner who does this cannot die even if he wishes to. Before beginning, however, one should first purify body and mind and keep abstinence for a hundred consecutive days; only then may one seek it. Usually it becomes visible within three or four days. Once it is seen and held without lapse, it will not depart again.

While guarding Xuanyi, one may also visualize one’s own body dividing into three persons. After those three appear, the number can be increased further, up to several dozen; each is identical to oneself, able to conceal or manifest at will, and each has its own oral formula. This is what is meant by the Way of Divided Forms (fenxing zhi dao)—the technique by which the cultivator visualizes or causes images of the self to split off and appear.

It is said that Lord Zuo, Ji Zixun, and Ge Xiangong could each show themselves in dozens of places in a single day. For example, at a banquet one “host” might converse with a guest, while at the gate another “host” welcomes guests and by the water a third “host” is fishing—yet the guest cannot tell which is the true body. That is the art of divided form. The master also said that if one who guards the One additionally practices the Bright Mirror (mingjing) method, then when the mirror path is complete one can split into dozens of figures, identical in dress and countenance to oneself.

Baopuzi relates that his master said: if you desire long life, you must diligently take great elixir (dayao)—the longevity medicines spoken of in Daoism; if you desire communion with spirits, you must cultivate the Gold–Water Divided Form method (jinshui fenxing). Once the body has been divided, one can see one’s own three hun and seven po, receive heavenly numina and earthly deities, and command the spirits of mountains and rivers.

Baopuzi says: Life is worth cherishing, and death is to be feared. Yet if one wishes to achieve longevity, nurture life, and avoid death, one must begin with diligence and hardship, persisting over a long time before any achievement is possible. After the Way is successfully cultivated, there is nothing that need be done deliberately; before success is attained, there is nothing that may be left undone.

Gathering herbs requires hard labor in mountains, forests, and marshlands; decocting, preparing, and taking medicines all demand effort. Climbing perilous heights and crossing mountains and rivers without slackening morning or evening—without firm resolve, one cannot persevere. To refine the Golden Elixir and ascend to heaven, one mostly needs medicinal materials and supplies, which must be purchased with money and cannot be assembled all at once. One must also accumulate funds through farming, herding, and trade; only after years of labor can the materials be gathered. When the time comes to refine the elixir, one must observe fasting and purification, quiet body and mind, and cut off ordinary affairs. None of this is easy; one must further practice inner contemplation of the spirits and holding to the One (Si Shen Shou Yi), ward off evil, and guard the self. In cultivation one should be as cautious as a ruler governing the state or a general guarding against the enemy—only then can one hope for the efficacy of long life.

Those endowed with intelligence and talent, capable of bearing responsibility for governing the world and instructing the people, have hope of success in practicing these methods. People of shallow insight and mediocre ability, even if they have aspiration and interest, often find it hard to persevere to the end.

Therefore the human body is like a state: the chest and belly are like the palace halls, the four limbs like the outer borders, the bones and joints like officials at every rank; the Shen (spirit) is like the sovereign, the blood like ministers, the Qi (vital energy) like the common people. To understand governing the body is to understand governing the state. Cherish the people and the state will be secure; nurture the Qi and the body will be preserved. When the people scatter, the state perishes; when Qi is exhausted, the body dies. After death a person cannot live again; once a state is destroyed it cannot be restored.

Hence those who succeed in the Way eliminate hidden dangers before calamity arises, and treat illness before it takes form; they nurture themselves while still at peace, and do not wait until the body declines before remedying it. The people are hard to keep in peace yet easily thrown into disorder; Qi is hard to keep clear and harmonious yet easily turns turbid. Therefore one should clearly discern the authority and virtue needed to govern the state, so as to preserve the state; and restrain cravings and desires to stabilize blood and Qi. Only by doing this can one nourish the True One (Zhenyi), hold to the Three-Seven (Sanqi), avoid various harms, and extend one’s lifespan.

Baopuzi said: “My master once said that when one takes the great medicines of the Golden Elixir, even before one has fully left the mundane world, all kinds of evil and harmful forces dare not approach. If one takes only herbal drugs and small amounts of mineral medicinals, at most one can treat illness and extend life—one cannot ward off calamities from outside. Some people may be harassed by ghosts and demons, or bullied by the gods of great mountains, or violated by spirits and strange creatures. Only by guarding Zhenyi (the method of concentrating the spirit and holding to the True in Daoist cultivation) can one not fear such things; next best is to wear divine talismans (fulu with protective power). If one knows neither of these methods yet still seeks long life, the danger is great. It is like having four gates with only three shut—thieves can still enter; how much more when every gate stands wide open?”

End of Chapter 18 of the Inner Chapters of Baopuzi.

Some have said: “My knowledge is shallow—as if I faced a blank wall, isolated and uninformed. Long bound by Confucian learning, I knew only the Five Classics and Three Histories, the writings of the various masters, ornate poetry and prose, and short pieces without practical use. I devoted myself to these studies for many years.

“I was born into troubled times; unrest had not ceased and war never ended. People did not value literary learning. I spent years painstakingly probing obscure depths, yet in the end I could not use that learning to win office and escape tilling the fields. It also drained my mind and did nothing to prolong life or preserve health. Now my hair is white and old age is near; the ambitions of youth fade. I wish to turn back, reform myself, and seek the way of nurturing life and longevity—but I am hurried and lost, not knowing where to go, as if I must cross a great river and do not know where to enter the water.

“You, sir, have read widely in ancient books and also mastered strange and secret transmissions. I wish to ask: how many volumes do the Daoist scriptures comprise in all? Can you tell me their titles and how they are organized?”

Baopuzi said: “I suffer from the same failing as you. In the past I was fortunate enough to meet the eminent master Master Zheng, but I regret that my natural endowment was not sharp enough to probe those doctrines of the utmost depth and subtlety. At the time, though I had become a disciple and was assigned menial tasks such as sweeping, my learning was shallow, I was young, my mind was not single-minded, and worldly attachments had not yet been cut off—so I did not gain much from him. That is what I regret most deeply.

When Master Zheng was past eighty, hair and beard that had already turned white grew dark again within a few years. His complexion was ruddy and cheerful; he could draw a strong crossbow and shoot a hundred paces; he walked several hundred li in a day and could drink two dou of wine without becoming drunk. Whenever he went up into the mountains, he was light and vigorous on steep heights and perilous paths—young men who chased after him often could not keep up. His food and drink were the same as ordinary people’s, and no one saw him practice grain abstention (bigu, refraining from the five grains to nourish the body through cultivation), so no one knew what method he actually used.

I once asked Huang Zhang, a disciple who had long followed him. Huang Zhang said that on one occasion Master Zheng was returning from Yuzhang and, near Jugou Ford, ran into strong winds in succession. Hearing that there were still many bandits ahead, his companions held Master Zheng back, wanting to wait until those coming behind caught up. Everyone thought their grain would not last. Master Zheng divided his rice among the group and ate nothing himself, yet felt no hunger for fifty days.

Master Zheng never showed what arts he was practicing, and I do not know what specific method he employed. He could read tiny characters by lamplight, his eyesight surpassing that of the young; he understood music and was skilled at the zither. When he sat at leisure with several attendants nearby, he could answer questions without pause, yet still hear clearly someone playing the zither beside him and instruct that person on adjusting note length, without the slightest error.

I became Master Zheng’s disciple only late in life and asked to see his fangshu—the books recording cultivation methods and formulas. He told me: “The truly essential Dao is written on no more than a square foot of silk; once you have mastered it, it suffices to transcend the mundane world—there is no need to be greedy for more. Still, after broad reading one is at least better off than having seen nothing at all. One can both grasp people’s intentions and learn some elementary methods, so that beginners who have not yet completed their training may guard against various calamities.”

I gradually came to understand Master Zheng’s intentions and also learned some relatively elementary Daoist techniques, meant to guard beginners against the various hardships they might encounter before their training was complete. At first, Master Zheng showed me nearly a hundred volumes of Daoist works used for admonition and instruction, revealing them step by step. I had read many books myself, and when I hit difficulties I asked him about them. Master Zheng said, “You have the capacity to discern and explain matters; you could teach others. But although you know a great deal, you have not yet mastered it deeply enough; your mind is still drawn to other branches of learning and cannot concentrate, so you have not truly penetrated the classics or explored their most hidden principles. Now I ought to show you the good books.”

Master Zheng also agreed to show me gradually some short secret texts written on silk. I had thought that over these years the books I might see would add up to perhaps two hundred volumes or so, but in the end I never obtained them. His other disciples all served him personally in miscellaneous tasks—some gathering firewood, some working the fields. I was physically frail and could not manage such heavy labor, nor did I have other skills to offer; ordinarily I only swept and cleaned beds, tables, and desks myself, ground ink, tended the lamps, and helped Master Zheng copy old books.

Master Zheng treated me like a senior disciple. He told me, “In almost every volume of Daoist books there is something worth taking; one need only distinguish what is subtle from what is crude, then choose what suits one’s practice. There is no need to memorize everything, lest time be wasted and the spirit worn down. If one can refine the Golden Elixir, these books will no longer be needed. Sometimes one may still transmit parts of them, but the order of cultivation should be made clear—begin with what is shallow, to encourage seekers to advance step by step so they have a path to follow and know where to start.”

Master Zheng would not let people copy his books in advance; whenever he transmitted teachings he explained the essential points. Even when books were lent out for long periods, no one dared privately copy a single character. Master Zheng had originally been a scholar thoroughly versed in Confucian learning and only in his later years came to love Daoist practice; he still lectured constantly on the Book of Rites and the Book of Documents. His bearing was dignified and clear, his manner upright and solemn; those who met him were invariably awed into respectful silence.

His bearing was refined and bright, his demeanor upright and solemn. Those who came to visit him could not help but treat him with deference. Whenever anyone asked him for instruction, he always waited until his expression had softened before answering, so that people dared not question him rashly or impatiently.

Some books were kept in my care for a long time—sometimes even a full month—and I could easily have copied a great deal from them. Yet I did not dare to copy them on my own, precisely because I feared that Master Zheng, being sharp and perceptive, might notice by chance. To lose his trust for such a reason would be to sacrifice the greater for the lesser. Even at the beginning of my study, I did not dare to ask boldly for transmission; I only tried to request it when the occasion was right. Thus, though I knew the river could be drunk from, I could not drink enough to fill my belly—meaning that what I learned remained limited and I never received the full transmission.

Among his disciples, more than fifty in number, I alone was granted the Jindan jing (Scripture of the Golden Elixir, a Daoist text on refining the golden elixir), the Sanhuang neiwen (Esoteric Writings of the Three Sovereigns, secret Daoist texts associated with the Three Sovereigns), and the Zhenzhong wuxing ji (Record of the Five Phases from the Pillow, a book on Five Phases numerology). Some of the other disciples never even caught sight of the titles of these works. As for the remaining books, though I did not obtain them all, I still recorded their titles. I now pass the list on to you so that later lovers of books may seek them widely.

The Daoist scriptures are as follows: Sanhuang neiwen tianwen (Esoteric Writings of the Three Sovereigns: Celestial Patterns), three fascicles; Yuanwen (Primordial Writings), upper, middle, and lower, three fascicles; Huncheng jing (Scripture of Blended Completion), two fascicles; Xuanlu (Mysterious Record), two fascicles; Jiusheng jing (Scripture of Nine Births); Ershisi sheng jing (Scripture of Twenty-Four Births); Jiuxian jing (Scripture of the Nine Immortals); Lingbu xian jing (Immortal Scripture of Spirit Divination); Erhu jing (Scripture of the Two Transformations); Jiubian jing (Scripture of Nine Changes); Laojun yuli zhenjing (True Scripture of the Jade Calendar of Lord Lao); Mozi zhenzhong wuxing ji (Record of the Five Phases from Master Mo’s Pillow), five fascicles; Wenbao jing (Scripture of Warm Treasures); Ximin jing (Scripture for Settling the People); Ziran jing (Scripture of Spontaneity); Yinyang jing (Scripture of Yin-Yang); Yangsheng shu (Books on Nurturing Life), one hundred and five fascicles; Taiping jing (Scripture of Great Peace), fifty fascicles; and Jiujing (Nine Reverences; elsewhere written as Jiudu, Nine Capitals).

Scriptures in the jing (classic) category include: Scriptural Text in Jia and Yi in one hundred and seventy fascicles; Classic of the Azure Dragon; Classic of Central Yellow; Classic of Great Clarity; Classic of Luminous Penetration; Classic of Massage; Classic of Daoyin (guiding the body and regulating breath for health) in ten fascicles; Classic of Yuanyangzi; Classic of the Dark Maiden; Classic of the Plain Maiden; Classic of Peng Zu; Classic of Chen She; Classic of Zidu; Classic of Zhang Xu; Classic of Tianmenzi; Classic of Rong Cheng; Classic of Entering the Mountains; Classic of Inner Treasure; Classic of Four Regulations; Classic of Bright Mirror; Classic of Sun and Moon Facing the Mirror; Classic in Five Words; Classic of the Pillar Within; Classic of Spirit; Classic of the Spirit Treasure Crown Prince’s Heart; Classic of the Dragon’s Leap; Classic of Correct Mechanism; Classic of Balance; Classic of the Flying Tortoise Tremor; Classic of the Deer’s Leap; and further Record of Treading Form; Chart of Guarding Form; Chart of Sitting and Forgetting; Chart of Reclining Guidance; Chart of Containing Radiance; Chart of Observing Heaven; Chart of Tree Fungus; Chart of Yin Fungus; Chart of Inner Fungus; Chart of Stone Fungus; Chart of the Great Po and Miscellaneous Fungi; Scripture of the Five Sacred Peaks in five fascicles; Record of Hidden Guarding; Chart of the Eastern Well; Classic of Empty Origin; Central Classic of Herding the Ox; Record of Jade Fullness; Record of La Completion; Record of Liu’an; Record of Crane Cry; Record of Pingdu; Record of Settling the Heart; Classic of Tortoise Writing; Record of Shanyang; Record of Jade Tally; Chart of the Eight Histories; Classic of Entering the Chamber; Left and Right Covenants; Classic of Jade Epoch; Rite of Ascending Heaven; Classic of Nine Wonders; Classic of Renewed Life; Classic of Four Lapel in ten fascicles; Classic of Ingesting the Essence of Sun and Moon; Classic of Ingesting the Six Qi; Classic of Cinnabar One; Classic of Embryonic Breathing; Classic of Circulating Qi to Heal Illness; Classic of Victory in the Center in ten fascicles; Classic of the Hundred Guards and Sheti; Classic of the Cinnabar Cauldron (some editions read “platform” for “cauldron”); Classic of Mount Min; Inner Classic of Wei Boyang; Classic of the Kitchen Food of Sun and Moon; Classic of Stepping the Three Gang and Six Registers; Classic of Entering the Army; Classic of the Six Yin Jade Maiden; Classic of Essentials Used by the Four Lords; Classic of the Golden Wild Goose; Classic of the Thirty-Six Waters; Classic of the White Tiger’s Seven Transformations; Classic of Earth-Treading Immortals of the Daoist Line; Essential Classic of Yellow and White; Classic of Yellow and White by the Eight Dukes; and Divine Implements of the Celestial Master (Tianshi) (some editions read “divine qi” for “divine implements”).

These titles cover scriptures, cultivation methods, illustrated charts, and ritual texts. Daoyin means nurturing life by guiding the limbs and regulating the breath. Taixi (embryonic breathing) is a breath-regulation method in Daoist practice. Ingesting the essence of sun and moon and ingesting the six qi refer to practices of absorbing the radiance of the sun and moon or the six kinds of atmospheric qi. Stepping the Three Gang and Six Registers is connected with treading the gang stars in set foot patterns and performing related rites.

These are titles of scriptures, cultivation texts, and related records, together with their scroll counts. Among them are the Zhenzhong Huangbai Jing (Pillow Classic of Yellow and White) in five scrolls; the Baizi Bianhua Jing (Classic of Baizi’s Transformations)—in some editions the character for “white” (bai) appears as “silk” (bo); the Yizai Jing, Yahuo Jing, Zhonghuang Jing, Wenren Jing, Juanzi Tiandi Ren Jing, and Cui Wenzi Zhouhou Jing (in some versions “after the elbow” [zhouhou] reads “Shishu” [shishu]); the Shenguang Zhan Fanglai Jing (in some versions “divine light” [shenguang] reads “immortal light” [xianguang]); the Shuixian Jing, Shijie Jing, Zhongdun Jing, Li Jun Baotian Jing, Baoyuan Jing, Huangting Jing, Yuantai Jing, Taisu Jing, Huagai Jing, and Xingchu Jing; the Weiyan in three scrolls; the Neishi Jing, Wen shi Xiansheng Jing, Licang Yanshou Jing, Nanque Ji (in some versions “gate” [que] reads “broad” [kuo]), and Xielongzi Ji in seven scrolls; the Jiugong in five scrolls; the Sanwu Zhong Jing, Xuanchang Jing, Jiejie Jing, Zou Yangzi Jing, Xuandong Jing in ten scrolls, Xuan Shi Jing in ten scrolls, Jishan Jing in ten scrolls, Lutai Jing, Xiaotong Jing, and Heluo Neiji in seven scrolls; and the Juxing Dao (in some versions the final word reads “penetration” [tong] rather than “Way” [dao]).

Taken together, these entries name scriptures, works on cultivation, or related records and note how many scrolls each work comprises. Texts of the Huangbai Jing type concern methods for refining gold and silver; the Shijie Jing bears on the Daoist practice of corpse liberation (shijie); and the Neishi Jing relates to inner visualization and “preserving the spirit in thought” (cunsi)—styles of cultivation grouped under inner observation (neishi).

Scripture of Completion, five volumes; Scripture of the Mechanism of the Dao, five volumes; Record of Seeing Ghosts, Scripture of the Limitless, Scripture of the Gong Clan, Scripture of the Jade Embryo of the Realized Person, Scripture of the Root of the Dao, Charts for Awaiting Fate, Scripture on Reversing the Fetal Envelope, Clear Record from the Pillow, Scripture of Infant Transformation, Scripture of Inquiry into Transformation, Scripture of Mount Jinhua, Scripture of the Phoenix Net, Scripture of Summoning Life, Record for Preserving the Spirit, Scripture of the Ghost Valley, Record of Lingxiaozi on Pacifying the Spirit, Record of Huangshan Gong, Disciple of Qiu, Scripture of the Five Phases Essentials of the Jade Master, Scripture of Minor Dietary Supplements, Scripture of the Great Treasure, Scripture of Master Zou on Extending Life, Record for Settling the Soul, Scripture of the Imperial Dao, Scripture of the Nine Yin, Miscellaneous Collected Bibliography, Record of the Silver Casket and Jade Casket, Scripture of the Golden Board, Immortal Record of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, Scripture of the Primordial Capital, Scripture of the Mysterious Origin, Scripture of the Essence of the Sun, Scripture of Total Completion, Collected [Texts on] the Three Corpses, Scripture on Invoking the Body Gods to Cure the Hundred Diseases, Scripture on Subduing Mountain Ghosts, Old Demons, and Malevolent Spirits, three volumes; Record of Entering the Five Poisons, Scripture on Abstaining from Grain, three volumes; Secret Methods for Gathering Spirit Medicines and Preparation, three volumes; Methods for Ascending Famous Mountains, Crossing Rivers and Seas, and Commanding Earth Spirits, three volumes; Essentials from Zhao Taibai’s Pouch, five volumes; Great Taboos on Warm Qi and Epidemic Disease, seven volumes; Record on Subduing the Hundred Ghosts and Summoning the Assistants of the Five Sacred Peaks and the Lord of Mount Tai, three volumes; Methods for Promoting Benefit in Palaces, Residences, and Official Buildings, five volumes; Record of Taboos against Tigers and Wolves in Mountain Forests, Record of Summoning Insects and Serpents within a Hundred Li, Methods of Master Wanbi of the High Mound, three volumes; Scripture of Wang Qiao on Nourishing Nature and Cultivating the Body, three volumes; Scripture of Dietary Taboos, Scripture on Establishing Merit and Increasing Life Span, Regulations of Daoist Masters on Seizing Calculated Fate, three volumes; Record of Master Yimen, Art of War of Ghosts, Art of Instant Death, Record of Refining the Form, five volumes; Essentials of the Dao of Master Xi, Collection on Longevity of Mr. Juli, Intent of the Dao by Shaojun, ten volumes; Inscriptions on the Stone Wall by Fan Ying, three volumes; Scripture of Reflecting on the Spirit, three volumes; Scripture of the Dragon Head, Record of Jing Mountain, Great Overview of Xianyuan Chifuzi of Master Kong An, seven volumes; Essential Record of Earth Immortal Master Dong on Warding Off Aging, Oral Formulas and Elbow Prescriptions of Master Li, two volumes.

Any work whose number of volumes is not specified should be understood as a single volume.

Next come various talisman books (fulu), including Zilai Fu (Self-Arriving Talisman), Jinguang Fu (Golden Light Talisman), Taixuan Fu (Grand Mystery Talisman, three volumes), Tongtian Fu (Penetrating Heaven Talisman), Wujing Fu (Five Essences Talisman), Shishi Fu (Stone Chamber Talisman), Yuce Fu (Jade Tablet Talisman), Zhenzhong Fu (Under-Pillow Talisman), Xiaotong Fu (Little Child Talisman), Jiuling Fu (Nine Spirits Talisman), Liujun Fu (Six Lords Talisman), Xuandu Fu (Mysterious Capital Talisman), Huangdi Fu (Yellow Emperor Talisman), Shaoqian Sanshiliu Jiangjun Fu (Thirty-Six General Talisman of Shaoqian), Yanming Shen Fu (Life-Extending Divine Talisman), Tianshui Shen Fu (Celestial Water Divine Talisman), Sishijiu Zhen Fu (Forty-Nine Perfect Talisman), Tianshui Fu (Celestial Water Talisman), Qinglong Fu (Azure Dragon Talisman), Baihu Fu (White Tiger Talisman), Zhuque Fu (Vermillion Bird Talisman), Xuanwu Fu (Dark Warrior Talisman), Zhutai Fu (Cinnabar Womb Talisman), Qiji Fu (Seven Mechanisms Talisman), Jiutian Fabing Fu (Nine Heavens Troop-Mobilizing Talisman), Jiutian Fu (Nine Heavens Talisman), Laojing Fu (Old Scripture Talisman), Qi Fu (Seven Talismans), Dahan’e Fu (Great Warding-Off-Calamity Talisman), Xuanzi Fu (Mysterious Child Talisman), Wuxiaojing Yanjun Longhu San Nang Bibing Fu (Talismans of the Three Pouches for Warding Off Arms from the Martial Filial Classic, Yan Jun, and Dragon-Tiger), Baoyuan Fu (Embracing Origin Talisman), Shenyi Fu (Shen Yi Talisman), Yujie Fu (Yu Jie Talisman), Xiaozai Fu (Disaster-Dispelling Talisman), Bagua Fu (Eight Trigrams Talisman), Jianqian Fu (Supervising Qian Talisman), Leidian Fu (Thunder-and-Lightning Talisman), Wanbi Fu (Myriad Completion Talisman), Bawei Wusheng Fu (Eight Powers Five Victories Talisman), Weixi Fu (Mighty Joy Talisman), Jusheng Fu (Great Victory Talisman), Cainü Fu (Maiden Talisman), Xuanjing Fu (Mysterious Essence Talisman), Yuli Fu (Jade Calendar Talisman), Beitai Fu (Northern Terrace Talisman), Yinyang Dazhen Fu (Yin-Yang Great Quelling Talisman), Zhi Baibing Fu (Treating Hundred Diseases Talisman, ten volumes), Yan Guai Fu (Quelling Strange Phenomena Talisman, ten volumes), Hugong Fu (Master Gourd Talisman, twenty volumes), Jiutai Fu (Nine Terraces Talisman, nine volumes), Jiajia Tongling Fu (Six Jia Spirit-Communicating Talisman, ten volumes), Liuyin Xingchu Longtai Shishi Sanjin Wumu Fangzhong Fu (Six Yin Traveling Kitchen, Dragon Womb, Stone Chamber, Three Metals, Five Woods, Warding-Off-Death Talismans—five hundred volumes in total), Jun Dazhao Zhi Fu (Army Great Summons Governing Talisman), and Yufu Fu (Jade Axe Talisman, ten volumes). These are among the larger talisman compilations; other scattered minor talisman texts are not recorded one by one.

Baopuzi (Master Who Embraces Simplicity) relates that Master Zheng said talismans originate with Laojun (the honorific title for Laozi in Daoism) and are altogether documents of heaven. Laojun can communicate with the spirits and gods, and therefore these talismans are likewise the written forms of the spirits and gods.

In the Baopuzi, Zheng Jun held that talismans (fu) were handed down by Lord Lao and were writing from heaven. Lord Lao could communicate with the divine spirits, so these talismans were granted by them. When people use talismans today and they rarely work, it is because the talismans have circulated for so long that many errors crept in during copying; moreover, those who use them lack firm faith, so the talismans do not take effect when applied.

This is like copying books by hand: if the talisman script is copied wrong, it brings no benefit and may even cause harm. Ordinary writing is something everyone can read, yet mistakes still arise when texts are passed from copy to copy. A proverb says, “Copy a book three times and ‘fish’ becomes ‘Lu,’ ‘empty’ becomes ‘tiger’”—that is the sort of thing meant. The characters for “seven” and “scholar” differ only slightly in a hook or stroke length, yet the meaning is already different. Today the characters on talismans are often illegible; when they are wrong, it is hard to notice, so people cannot tell whether the talisman script is accurate.

There are also people in the world who are born with a special constitution and can perform ritual techniques; when they use talismans, the results are especially effective. It is like some people who need only apply musk and naturally give off fragrance—such ability is not learned afterward and cannot be taught. Even so, if one obtains talismans that have not been miscopied and uses them with a sincere, upright mind, there is still some help, though the effect is not as swift as in those who are naturally gifted for such practice.

For Daoists who seek long life, the crux lies in taking medicinals. Talismans and swords serve only to drive off ghosts and ward off harm. Great talismans that claim one will become an immortal as soon as they are used cannot be accepted as true on those claims alone.

In former times, during the Wu state of the Three Kingdoms, there was a man named Jie Xiang who could read talisman script and tell whether a talisman was written incorrectly. When people brought him various healing talismans and talismans for warding off evil and baneful influences, and removed the labels from the talismans before showing them to him, he could still name each talisman one by one; where something was written wrong, he could correct it for others. Since then, no one has had this skill of discerning talisman script.

Someone asked: “Among immortal medicinals, nothing is more important than the Golden Elixir—I understand that already. I would also like to ask whether books of talismans are the most marvelous of all such things.”

Baopuzi said: “I heard Master Zheng say that among Daoist books, nothing ranks above the Sanhuang Wen (Three Sovereigns Scripture) and the Wuyue Zhenxing Tu (True Forms of the Five Sacred Mountains). Immortal officials and those who attained the Dao in antiquity honored and concealed these works; only those whose names were already entered in the registers of immortals might receive them. They were transmitted once every forty years, with a blood oath at the handover and a token exchanged as pledge.

Such books exist in the famous mountains, including the Five Sacred Mountains, hidden in stone chambers and other deep, secluded places. When someone fated for the Dao enters the mountains and seeks with a sincere heart, the mountain spirit opens the rock for them to see. Bo Zhongli, for example, obtained his books in the mountains in this way: he set up an altar, offered silk as a token, and left after copying each volume.

Once you possess the Sanhuang Wen, keep it constantly in a clean place and report to it before any undertaking, as to a lord or a father. The text says that a household that keeps the Sanhuang Wen can drive off evil ghosts, pestilence qi, and sudden misfortune. If someone is gravely ill and near death, firm faith in the Dao and holding the book will surely prevent death; if a woman in difficult labor loses breath, holding the book allows the child to be born.

A Daoist who seeks long life, entering the mountains with this book, can keep tigers and wolves, mountain spirits, the five poisons, and every kind of evil being from approaching; crossing rivers and seas, one can repel dragons and still wind and waves. With the methods therein, one can also perform transformations and ritual arts without choosing place or day, and the household will not suffer disaster. To build a new house or lay out a tomb, copy dozens of the Dihuang Wen (one section of the Sanhuang Wen), spread the copies on the ground, and inspect them the next day: wherever yellow has stained, begin work there, and the family estate will flourish.

When others are being buried, one may copy the Renhuang Wen (another section of the Sanhuang Wen), write one’s name on paper, wrap it, and secretly place it in the grave unseen; it is said this wards off sudden harm and robbery, and if someone plots against you, the plotter is harmed instead. Before using this method, purify with fasting for a hundred days; then one may summon the celestial Siming (Director of Fate), the Taisui (Grand Year), the daily wandering spirits, the Five Sacred Mountains, the four great rivers, and the gods of community altars and temples. They appear in human form, and one may ask about fortune and danger and why the sick suffer afflictions. There are also eighteen characters: carried in the clothing, they are said to ease fear of wind and waves on long crossings.

A household that keeps the Wuyue Zhenxing Tu (images of the Five Sacred Mountains in Daoist iconography) is said to escape war and violent peril; those who wish you harm turn the harm upon themselves. Yet if a Daoist cannot practice benevolence and righteousness, lacks a compassionate heart, or harbors an impure mind, even possession of these books brings disaster, sometimes on the whole family—so they must not be treated lightly.”

Mozi’s arts of transformation survive in full only in the Records of the Five Phases (Wuxing Ji), which originally ran to five scrolls. Before Liu Jun’an attained the Way and ascended as an immortal, he extracted the essentials and compiled them into one scroll. The book says that with drugs and Fulu (talismans and registers), a person can fly up and down or vanish from sight; smile and become a woman, knit the brow and become an old man, crouch and become a child; lean on a staff and turn into a grove, plant something and grow fruit for others to eat; draw on the ground and rivers appear, scoop earth and pile up mountains; sit and summon food, raise clouds and mist, and kindle flame—almost nothing is beyond reach.

Next is The Hidden Subtlety of the Jade Maiden (Yunu Yinwei), one scroll, which can also turn one into birds and beasts, or into gold, wood, jade, or stone; it can call clouds and rain over a hundred li, and bring snow as well. To cross a great river one need not boat or bridge; one can split into a thousand bodies, ride the wind aloft, and pass without obstruction; one can exhale seven-colored breath, sit and see the farthest reaches of the eight directions and what lies underground; one can emit light for ten thousand zhang and fill a dark room with brightness. This too is a profound technique. When performing it, however, one must walk dozens of steps according to the positions of the stars—a tortuous footwork few can master. The arts recorded in Huainan Hongbao, Wanbi, and similar works fall short of this book.

There is also the White Tiger’s Sevenfold Transformation Method (Baihu Qi Bian Fa). It is said one takes the scalp of a white tiger killed on the third day of the third month, along with fresh horse blood, tiger blood, purple cord, shoe thongs, floating duckweed, and the like, and plants them together on that same day. What first sprouts resembles hemp; when fruit forms, those seeds are planted again, and each generation brings one change. After seven generations, the final fruit is used together, and one can alter body and face at will—flying when one wishes, sinking when one wishes. This art is much the same as Mozi’s transformations and The Hidden Subtlety of the Jade Maiden. Other techniques beyond these are hardly worth mentioning.

Here “fu” means Fulu (talismans and registers), and “bu xing” (stepping the stars) is ritual footwork aligned with the stars. Flying, shape-shifting, and the rest are motifs from ancient fangshu (esoteric arts) lore.

On “Broad Survey” (Xianlan)

The essay “Broad Survey” is meant to let people who are devoted to Daoist arts learn the titles and categories of various Daoist books.

Master Zheng (Zheng Yin) did not only master the Five Classics and understand the path of immortals; he was also versed in the Nine Palaces, the Three Wonders, and other numerological methods, could calculate celestial phenomena, and studied the River Chart (Hetu), the Luo Writing (Luoshu), and all manner of detailed records—there was nothing he did not investigate deeply. In the first year of the Tai’an era, foreseeing that troubled times were coming and that the Jiangnan region would soon be in turmoil, he shouldered his book chest, took immortal medicines and the implements for refining them, and led his initiated disciples eastward to Mount Huo; after that, no one knew where he had gone.

End of Baopuzi Neipian, scroll nineteen.

Collation note at scroll end: In the base text, characters such as those now read as “gold,” “talisman,” and “one who,” respectively, were emended per Wang Ming’s edition from earlier graph forms.

Baopuzi Neipian, scroll twenty, titled “Eliminating Delusion” (Qhuo).

Master Baopuzi said: If you wish to obtain bright pearls, you must go into the deep waters of Hepu—you cannot get the night-shining pearl from beneath the black dragon’s jaw without doing so. If you wish to gather fine jade, you must enter the caves of Mount Jing—you cannot obtain a foot-long jade disk worth an entire city without making the journey.

When you take a master to seek the Dao, if you do not meet the right person, leaving them leaves you endlessly hoping for something better; staying with them may mean you achieve nothing in a lifetime. Time is wasted in vain and cultivation is hindered; by the time you regret it, it is too late. Even ordinary matters close at hand cannot be understood by sitting at home—how much less the way of immortals? Even a sage cannot grasp it alone; it is not something gained by repeated reflection alone, nor found by extending one analogy to another.

You truly need a master, and that master’s learning should be deep and broad. It is like drawing water from the great sea or felling trees on vast isles—the only worry is that your own strength is insufficient; why would you fear that water or wood is too scarce? What tigers and leopards leave from their kill is what foxes and mice scramble over; what Tao Zhu Gong discarded is what men like Yuan Xian and Yan Hui could not obtain.

If the master you follow lacks foresight, does not understand profound principles, and is narrow and ignorant, what they know is inherently limited—the source of their learning is short and its transmission shallow. If they teach you everything they have, they will be stingy and reluctant; if they give you only a part, the content is shallow and ordinary, with no special skill. What they themselves cherish is already not deep; picking out the crudest parts to pass on to others—how could that help anyone succeed?

It is like borrowing grain from Bo Yi and Shu Qi, or seeking clothes from Qian Lou: what you can get is acorns, chestnuts, and coarse hemp cloth—never a feast of rich meat or fine furs and brocade.

Some cling to a mediocre master and never awaken; some are fortunate enough to meet someone who understands, yet refuse to study diligently. They fail to notice the opportunity and cannot recover it once it is lost. Discerning whether someone’s insight is deep or shallow is indeed difficult. What the ancients called hard has point: white stone looks like jade, and a treacherous petty man looks like a worthy. The worthy hide themselves more—the talented seem as if they had none; the treacherous show themselves more—empty of real learning yet seeming very capable. Unless one is exceptionally perceptive, on what basis can one tell them apart?

Those who keep to a mediocre teacher and refuse to leave do not do so because they know the teacher is ignorant and stay on purpose; they genuinely believe the teacher is already good enough. People who think themselves satisfied tend all the more to boast; what is false often wears the look of truth—how could anyone but the keenest judge tell them apart? Those who meet someone of real insight yet fail to honor and learn from them do not do so because they know that person is deeply learned and still withhold respect; they truly believe there is no difference between that person and everyone else.

Those who truly grasp the essential Way do not crave external things or chase worldly reputation—how then would they put themselves on display before ordinary people? Shallow people, by contrast, often love to exaggerate and advertise themselves. They assume stern expressions and use a low, grave voice to dress up empty words—enough to mislead later seekers—and still dare to talk big. They claim to have climbed famous mountains and met immortals. Listeners who hear this in haste, if they cannot examine it calmly, rarely detect the fraud.

I have often seen lax, undisciplined Daoists rushing to the doors of the powerful, even having attendants invent titles for them, saying they have already lived four or five hundred years. When someone asks their age, they pretend not to hear, only smile and glance about, and answer eighty or ninety. A moment later they add that they spent fifty years in grain-cut cultivation on Mount Huayin, forty years on the lesser peak of Mount Song, sixty years on Mount Tai, and fifty years together with so-and-so on Mount Ji. They relate these episodes one by one to others precisely so people will add the years and conclude they have lived several centuries. Then households devoted to this Way gather in crowds at their gates.

Ten years later, he again says he spent fifty years with so-and-so on Mount Ji and tells that story to others—still intending that people will calculate he has lived several hundred years. Again, families who love this Way flock to his door. Duangu (grain-cut cultivation) means stopping or reducing grain intake while practicing.

Some fangshi (Daoist adepts) are born with a kind of sensitive perception: they can see ghosts and spirits, and are rather good at inferring events inwardly—knowing things others have done in the past or will do in the future. In reality, however, they cannot thereby bring people fortune or misfortune, nor can they alter how things turn out. They are like the yarrow stalks and tortoise shells used in divination: they can only discern auspicious and inauspicious signs.

Ordinary people, seeing them hit the mark now and then, call them “spirit-men” and assume they know everything. Others are skilled at driving out evil and curing illness with fu water, restrictive incantations, and similar methods; these do have some effect, yet that does not mean they understand the path of the Golden Elixir—the Daoist practice of refining the elixir and seeking long life. Still others cultivate various miscellaneous arts and can see demons and ghosts, but cannot extend their years. Ask them about the way of the Golden Elixir, and most do not understand it at all.

Look closely and you find that many among them deceive the world for money, stopping at nothing. They and burglars who break through walls may take different paths, but in the end they are the same. If one only speaks empty words without grounding them in things that can actually be verified, later generations who wake up will treat such claims as precedents to test—and expose the false side for what it is.

In ancient times there was a robust man who took herbal formulas of plants and trees and also practiced bedroom arts in the style of Rongcheng and Xuansu. When he was about eighty, his mind was still clear and he did not seem especially weak or aged. People of the time therefore called him an immortal; some even called him the “Thousand-Year Old Man.”

When the regional inspector of Yangzhou heard of him, he sent someone to Yidu to bring him in so he could examine him in person. When the man arrived, his speech rattled in his throat and came in broken phrases; his bearing was withdrawn. He seemed to know deeply, yet he never fully said what he knew. The curious then flocked to him—those who heard came following the sound, those who saw his form gathered like clouds, praising and marveling in competition, gifts arriving one after another, so that he often had money to spare. Even Lu Li, so honored in Han times, did not match the adulation he received.

He took tianmen dong (a common tonic herb) year after year without interruption. From this one could see that he had no Golden Elixir or great elixir medicine within him. He had read a little and knew some old stories. He claimed to be four thousand years old and dared say so without shame. He said he had seen Yao, Shun, Yu, and Tang, and when he spoke of them he was clear and precise, as if he had seen them with his own eyes.

People say Yao had eight-colored eyebrows; that is not so—only the inner ends of his brows stood up so that they looked like the character for “eight.” Yao was tall, with fine beard and sideburns, and could drink more than two hu of wine in a day. People therefore exaggerated that he could drink a thousand zhong; he could not—I saw him thoroughly drunk. Though Yao was a sage, when old his ability to govern was not what it had been in youth. Later, when he removed the Four Evils and raised up the Eight Worthies, he relied on Shun.

Shun was a child of a poor, lonely household, yet had outstanding talent. He once farmed at Mount Li, fished at Lei Marsh, and made pottery on the seashore; none of the people of the time recognized his extraordinariness. I saw that wherever he went he taught the people with virtue. He also had double pupils (two pupils in one eye). I knew this was the mark of eminence and often encouraged and comforted him.

One should honor lofty virtue and need not worry about failing to attain wealth and rank. The virtue of Fire had already run its course, and the yellow essence of Earth was about to rise; he who would inherit the calendar and the Mandate—if not you, then who? Yet his father was extremely stubborn, and his younger brother was especially vicious, always scheming to kill Shun. I once admonished them, saying, “This child will in time bring glory to your clan, and people throughout the realm will benefit from his grace—not your household alone. You must not treat him lightly.” Before long, Shun received the abdication and took the throne. I often recalled my words and saw that they had indeed come true.

There was another matter: When Confucius’s mother was sixteen or seventeen, I read her face and said she would bear a noble son. Later she gave birth to Zhongni (Confucius, whose given name was Qiu and courtesy name Zhongni), who truly was an extraordinary man. He stood nine feet six inches tall; his head resembled Yao’s, his neck Gao Yao’s, and his eyebrows Zi Chan’s; from the waist down he was three inches shorter in stature than Yu. Even so, his family was poor and he was orphaned and in humble circumstances, yet as a child he loved sacrificial rites and ritual vessels. I knew he would surely achieve something great. When he grew up, his discourse was lofty and astonishing; people from near and far came to study with him, and those registered as his disciples numbered in the thousands.

I enjoyed listening to him speak and often went to see him, only regretting that I had not studied properly and could not discuss and expound the classics with him. He often urged me to read the Yi (Book of Changes), saying it was an excellent book. He said, “I have privately loved it so much that I read it with such concentration that the leather thongs binding the bamboo slips broke three times and my iron staff snapped three times; only now have I truly understood it.”

In the fourteenth year of Duke Ai of Lu, men of Lu captured a qilin while hunting in the west, and the qilin died. Because of this Confucius came to ask me, and I told him, “This is not an auspicious omen.” Confucius wept in grief; later he had an ill dream and wished to see me. It was the height of summer in the fourth month, and the weather was very hot, so I could not go. Before long I heard that he fell ill and died seven days later. To this day I still seem to remember his appearance.

There was yet another matter: Qin Shihuang brought me to Pengcheng and ordered men to excavate the cauldrons of the Zhou. I told Qin Shihuang, “Those cauldrons are numinous objects. When a ruler of virtue holds the throne, they appear of themselves; in times of the Way’s decline they sink and vanish. If you cultivate yourself, they will come on their own—they cannot be obtained by force.” Qin Shihuang looked greatly astonished at the time, and in the end he indeed failed to dig the cauldrons out.

He then thanked me and said, “You truly are a far-sighted, reasonable person.” He also spoke of Emperor Gaozu of Han and Xiang Yu with great clarity. There are many similar stories that cannot all be recorded. People at the time knew these matters and often treated them as jokes; yet ordinary listeners still believed what was said.

There was also a man named Qiang who, as he grew older, became confused in mind and often forgot things. Prefect Ji once gave Qiang a jade wine cup. Later Qiang suddenly said to Prefect Ji, “Long ago Master Anqi gave this object to me.” Qiang later died of illness in the home of Huang Zheng in Shouyang. Huang Zheng suspected he had transformed and departed; about a year later he tried opening the coffin to look and found the corpse still intact inside. Such people had reputation only, without real ability, and made the world disbelieve that immortals exist; one reason truth and falsehood are mixed in the world is precisely that such people use false matters to disturb what is real.

Wu Wen, governor of Chengdu, said that in Wuyuan there was a man named Cai Yan who loved the Way but found no good teacher or key method. He ruined his family estate, reciting the Yellow Court Classic and the Central Scripture of the Great Clarity day and night, also observing the heavens and acting according to the seasons, firmly believing immortals exist in the world.

The prefect of Chengdu, Wu Wen, told this story: In Wuyuan there was a man named Cai Dan who loved the Way but never met a skilled teacher or learned the essentials of practice. He neglected his household and day and night recited the Huangting, Taiqing Zhongjing, Guan Tian Jiexiang, and similar books, plus all sorts of scriptures nobody really needed—thinking that if he read them, he would understand everything. He never learned how to apply any of it; he only praised the flashy phrases in the books, deceiving others and himself.

Someone even told him that if he simply read each book a thousand times, he would naturally grasp its meaning. Cai Dan therefore read tirelessly for years; his family suffered, and food and clothing ran short. He gained nothing special, felt ashamed and angry, and could not defend himself. Later he left home, claiming he had achieved immortality, and went off into remote mountains.

He did not know which plants or minerals could sustain him without grain (bigu), so he had to sell firewood for food and clothing. After three years of hunger and cold, someone recognized him, but he pretended not to know them. When he could endure no more, he went home—black, emaciated, skin and bone, hardly human. His family asked where he had been and whether he had finally become an immortal. He lied: “I cannot yet ascend to heaven; I only became a di xian (earth immortal who remains in the human realm). I had just entered the immortal registers at the lowest rank and still had to serve senior immortals before I could rise step by step.”

He also said: “Before that I tended several dragons for Laojun (the honorific title for the Supreme Old Lord in Daoism). One five-colored dragon was especially precious—Laojun often rode it. I was ordered to guard it but did not do my duty; I only played chess with newly ascended immortals and lost the dragon—I do not know where it went. For that I was punished and sent to the foot of Mount Kunlun to clear weeds on three or four qing of land—mostly fine stones and thick weeds, extremely hard work. The rule was ten years of labor before release. Later the immortals Wo Quan and Wang Qiao came on inspection; I begged them, they pleaded for me and helped with the work, so I was temporarily allowed home. I plan to cultivate again and find a way out.”

He returned home like this and eventually died of old age. When Cai Dan first came back saying he was from Mount Kunlun, relatives and friends all asked: “What is Mount Kunlun like?”

Someone once asked: "How high is Heaven?" The answer given was that Heaven is not as distant as it appears when one looks upward—it is only about a dozen zhang above the earth. There grows the Tree Grain (Muhe), standing four zhang and nine chi tall, with ears so large they could fill a whole cart. There are also the Pearl-Jade Tree, Shatang Tree, Langgan Tree, and Bigui Tree, as well as jade plums, jade melons, and jade peaches. Their forms resemble ordinary plums, melons, and peaches of the world, yet they are crystalline and translucent, with a hard texture; washed in the waters of the Jade Well (the legendary well-water of the immortal realm), they soften and become edible. Whenever the wind rises, the branches and leaves of the Pearl-Jade Tree, the Langgan and Bigui trees, and the jade plums, melons, and peaches strike against one another, naturally producing the Five Tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu)—sounds clear and piercing, mournful and moving, that stir the heart. I have seen those who suffered exile and misfortune; upon hearing these descriptions, none failed to be moved to sorrow and grief.

I have also seen Kunlun Mountain: its body winds and curves in circuit upon circuit, each circuit containing four hundred and forty gates, each gate four li wide. Within the mountain stand five cities and twelve towers. Below the towers dwell the Azure Dragon and White Tiger, as well as great serpents over a hundred li in length, their teeth each large enough to hold a boat of three hundred hu capacity; there are also bees a zhang in size, whose venom suffices to kill an elephant. Within the mountain dwell divine beasts such as the lion-ward (shibi), celestial deer (tianlu), and scorched sheep (jiaoyang), as well as creatures with bronze heads and iron foreheads, long fangs and sharp teeth—thirty-six kinds in all. Should one know the names of all of them, the evil ghosts and beasts throughout the world would not dare to harm people.

There also dwell spirits such as the Headless Child, Lord Inverted Reflection, Lord Gathering Deer, Master Middle Yellow, and the Six Gate Grandee. Zhang Yang, styled Ziyuan, is the knight who guards the Jade Gate (the gate-tower of the immortal palace); without the Bamboo Envoy Talisman (the credential issued by Lord Lao in legend) and the paired left-right tokens (matching credentials for verification), one cannot enter. Five rivers all originate from the mountain's corners; the Weak Water (water of such feeble buoyancy that nothing floats upon it) passes through them, so that even a goose feather cannot float, and flying birds cannot cross—only immortals can traverse it.

Upon the mountain dwell divine birds and horses such as Youchang, Jiaomiao, Teng Huang, and Jiguang, all capable of human speech and all enjoying eternal life without death. It is truly a lively and splendid place within the immortal realm—yet alas, I was unable to properly wander and explore the mountain.

In Hedong, at Puban, there was a man named Xiang □du who took his son into the mountains to study immortality. Ten years later he returned home, and his family asked him why. He answered: “In the mountains I devoted myself to cultivation for three years. An immortal came to fetch me, and together we rode a dragon up to heaven. After a long while I looked down at the ground below and saw only a vast, dim depth; though we had not yet reached heaven, we were already very far from earth. The dragon flew swiftly, its head high and tail low, and on its back one felt it was perilously hard to stand. In heaven we first passed through the Purple Palace, where there were halls of gold and tables of jade, bright and splendid—a truly exalted place. The immortal gave me only one cup of Stream Sunset wine; after I drank it I no longer felt hunger or thirst. Suddenly I thought of home, and when I came before the Emperor of Heaven to pay homage I lost proper demeanor, was rebuked, and sent back to the human world. The Emperor of Heaven told me to continue cultivating virtue and accumulating merit if I wished another chance to ascend. I have heard that in former times Prince Liu An of Huainan, when he ascended and saw the Supreme Lord, was demoted to guard the celestial privy for three years because he sat cross-legged, spoke loudly, and even called himself ‘I, the solitary one.’ What sort of person am I that I should not be careful?”

The people of Hedong therefore called Xiang □du the “Expelled Immortal”—meaning one whom the immortal realm had cast out. Such people in the world are many, and the types are not limited to one; one cannot fail to distinguish them carefully. When obvious falsehoods like this still find believers, how much more so deceptive words that are hard to tell apart—often borrowing details that seem to fit facts and then embellishing them? Unless one is sharp-sighted, how can one sort them out in haste?

Some people also impersonate famous Daoist priests of former ages, such as Bai He. Legend has it that he had lived for eight thousand seven hundred years, often appearing among ordinary people in the secular world and then suddenly vanishing, with no one knowing where he had gone. A Daoist priest in Luoyang, widely read and skilled in various prognostic arts, would often bring difficult questions to Bai He. Bai He always answered at once, explaining things in a way that convinced people and made them feel his understanding ran very deep. Though no one knew his exact lifespan, they believed he had lived for nearly a thousand years at least. Later he suddenly departed, and his whereabouts were unknown.

Afterward, a man in Hebei claimed to be Bai He. People from near and far competed to serve him and gave him many valuables, so that he became very wealthy. Bai He’s disciples heard that Bai He had appeared again and were overjoyed; they went to meet him, but in the end confirmed that this man was not Bai He. The impostor then fled.

The Five Classics and the writings of the four traditional divisions have already become like straw dogs discarded after a ritual—leftover dregs from the past. What is recorded in writing is the trace a person leaves; it is not the person himself. Books are what sages wrote; they are not the sages themselves. Confucian scholars still travel ten thousand li with book chests on their backs to seek teachers—how much more, then, should one study diligently and inquire widely about the Way of long life, which those who attain realization (zhenren, realized persons) hold dear? Yet one must also discriminate carefully between the genuine and the false. I fear that accounts like those of Gu Qiang, Cai Dan, Xiang □ Dou, and Bai He will keep circulating in the world; therefore, readers who aspire to this path, having read my book, may perhaps use it to weigh such stories and judge what is true or false, better or worse.

The Scripture of Immortals also says that immortals have square pupils. Someone in Luoyang who had seen Bai Zhongli told me that his pupils were indeed square; if that is so, he was an extraordinary person.

Volume 20 of the Inner Chapters of Baopuzi ends here.

The following are textual notes:

1. “She” (discard): the base text read “xi” (breath); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

2. “Xi” (rare/hope): the base text read “ruo”; emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

3. “Jing cheng” (compete in claiming): the base text read “jing shou” (guard to the end); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

4. “Liaoliao” (clear/distinct): the base text read “wanwan” (myriad); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

5. “You” (again/also): the base text read “ren” (person); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

6. “Shi” (stone): the base text read “er” (and); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

7. “Si” (resemble): the base text read “yi” (with/by); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

8. “Fu” (again/return): the base text read “hou” (after/behind); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

9. “Ce” (toilet/latrine): the base text read “chu” (kitchen); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.

10. “Zhe” (one who): the base text read “jun” (lord); emended per Wang Ming’s critical edition.