《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 3

In southern Min (southern Fujian), there was a general who commanded millions of soldiers and rode across the Huai River. By order of the court’s archives office, which oversaw books and imperial decrees, he carried the ceremonial banners and served as garrison commander. The people of the Huai region welcomed him with laughter. The men farmed, and the women too went about their work.

Later, he led his troops into southern Min and enforced strict discipline, not taking so much as a blade of grass from the people. The area around Xiangnan Dao was known for its blue cloth. There, a lofty peak rose in the shape of a giant turtle.

In a mountain shrine, the divine image stood beside his true likeness, tall upon the hillside. A temple was also built to honor him in Longshou, during the Zhenghe era. The people were diligent in repaying his kindness, offering fish and other produce from streams and marshes as sacrifices.

Over four hundred years, the affairs of the world had been like turbulent waters along a road, with hardship unavoidable. Later, people spread word of his miraculous powers, recording so many accounts that they could not be counted. Tales of him endured for a long time, but as they passed from mouth to mouth, the wording became confused and corrupted.

The people remained diligent in repaying his kindness, offering fish and other produce from streams and marshes. Over four hundred years, the affairs of the world weathered many upheavals. Later generations proclaimed his miraculous powers and recorded many accounts; with the passage of time, the tales were bound to become corrupted.

Trying to paint a tiger, one ends up with something like a dog; people merely make a noisy commotion. The books of poetry and history have been bundled away on a high shelf, and later students have consequently lost the teachings of Confucius and Mencius.

I have heard that you, sir, possessed loyalty and talent. Someone once traded several sheets of paper for a white goose. Your writing surpassed all others of your age, and your words poured forth like a flowing river. The force of your brush could sweep across a thousand troops; you were also skilled in the ancient Zhou script and seal script. Your strokes, like silver hooks, spread like phoenix wings, while your iron-like lines curved and wound like a dragon’s body.

You cut stone to make a stele and set about composing its inscription. This account of mine, together with your reputation, will ultimately endure through the ages, never to be erased.

Sent to the recluse of South Village.

The Recluse of South Village has been known for his poetry throughout the rivers and seas for many years. He suddenly wrote a poem about returning home, probably because his mother had died and still lay unburied. He could not bear to leave the land of Lu just like that, so he lodged at Lushan and did his best to make the funeral arrangements.

One day, he came to visit me with incense. Borrowing lines from an ancient poet, I wrote a quatrain to encourage him. Later, he showed me his Collection of Fish and Yan, whose pages overflow with poems and prose. I responded to each poem by following its rhyme. I offer these humble pieces only for now—how could they be fit to print and pass down? Would I not be passing purple off as vermilion? I would never dare presume to stand alongside those of outstanding talent. He wrote a preface and postscript for me, praising me far too generously. I could not help feeling ashamed, as if I were imitating another’s work. So, following the style of Master Thatched Hall and the rules of ancient verse, I composed twenty-two rhyming lines and appended them to the preface of The Fox-White Fur Robe, as a small token of thanks.

The daylilies, a symbol of one’s mother, have long since withered, and the grounds near the home of Meng Mu have grown desolate. Alas, my mother died so suddenly, leaving only loneliness behind; tears soak my clothes and handkerchief.

You sent me precious travel gear and helped me make arrangements wherever I went. In a foreign land, the customs were different, and life was hard. Now my hair is disheveled and streaked with white; beneath the lamplight, the green brows that once shone there are gone.

I sketch the road I have traveled: drifting from place to place, without family or home, I can only let myself grow old. It seems even Heaven grieves for you; the thought brings tears and heartache.

I once followed the way of Kasyapa, the Buddhist disciple, walking and singing as I went. I was no recluse fleeing the world. In the mountains I called out, unable to tell which deer was which; leaning on my staff, I moved onward with the crowd.

From the tile diviner came the spirit’s message; the frequent stream of visitors made the household seem forbidding. The turns of a life have their own fixed course—how much more so when I am caught amid the dust and turmoil of the land of the Hu.

I set sail toward the Southern Dipper and climb a high tower to gaze toward the Northern Dipper, the Pole Star. Warm winds come with the season, and the vast sea stretches away, yet no ferry crossing is in sight.

Jiaoxiong suffered disdain and neglect, yet remained openhearted, accepting whatever came—advancement or retreat, bending or straightening. I urge you not to sigh or complain: you have met a kindred spirit in me.

I would gladly spend the rest of my life writing poems and prose, remembering the precious bond of our meeting. I am happy to draw close to you, and I envy the qilin in the painting.

The legend of King Du must surely be true; no one can match Chu Gong’s calligraphy. Gao and Cen’s steps are far less composed than yours, while Geng and Jia were merely ministers held in esteem.

I would gladly spend the rest of my life writing poems and prose, remembering the precious bond of our meeting. I am happy to draw close to you, and I envy the qilin in the painting.

Emperor Wang truly received the teaching, and none could surpass Lord Chu’s literary skill. Gao and Cen were especially measured in their conduct, while Geng and Jia were both revered ministers.

Dense bamboo looks cheerful even in winter, and duckweed by the water gives off a faint fragrance. There is a certain pleasure in speaking of refined principles; yet when I turn to gaze into the distance, my heart is filled with sorrow.

A bright mirror hangs high, clear enough to reveal all. Thoughts surge like rippling water, as though a dried-up fish had been brought back to life. Only in old age did I understand the author’s intent: once again, he used the myriad things to evoke the spirit of spring.

The morning air inspires admiration, for it holds something within it. I know that my own idleness truly comes from my nature. When I show courtesy to Xu Ruzi (Xu Zhi, a renowned scholar of the Eastern Han), every meeting brings a fresh feeling.

Composed on behalf of Zhou Quan: “The City of the Lotus”

Where do Xihe and Chang’e, emblems of the sun and moon, race on their courses? I can only say that the old man of Jiang County, famed in legend for his longevity, knows not his age. Yet you have forsaken the mortal world and ascended to immortality. I am left alone and bereft—who is there to pity me?

I look up to heaven and weep bitterly, tears streaming without cease. My body stiffens and my spirit falters; I can scarcely contain myself.

Once the coffin is closed, the matter is settled. Exhausted, I long to fall asleep. That lotus-like figure is no dream, nor a trick of failing eyesight. Your face is vivid as life, wearing a smile; moonlight falls upon the roof beam, cold and lovely.

You wear a crane-feather crown and a crane-feather cloak, riding in a dragon-drawn carriage. A ceremonial procession goes before you, with carriages and horses following behind.

Banners are on the left and tally tokens on the right; the retinue dances to the music. Grand immortal music rings through the air, its sound swelling all around. Crowds gather beside lanes shaded by pines and willows, and the markets bustle. The roads divide, leading north and south toward the fields.

Who carved the inscription on the stone wall? Its hooked strokes sweep and leap, like a luan bird beating its wings.

A straight avenue leads west, with halls and palaces arranged on either side. Golden characters, like stars, seem to move along with the constellations. To the west lies Rijing Shanju, set apart; to the east, Zhenyi belongs to the Great Mystery.

Countless star-shaped lamps burn in the halls, their flames like lotuses. A strange fragrance fills the air, richer than dragon’s-breath incense.

I ask someone nearby whether the affairs of this place can be verified. Pointing here, they tell me this is Juntian, the legendary realm of heavenly music. In the past, only Quan held authority here; now you should take that place. You are no arbitrary choice.

You are also known as a worthy person of this age. Only after a thousand calamities have you met with this moment—truly, a fortunate bond.

You once followed the Yan family in studying the texts of the immortals, probing deeply into hidden principles and attaining the true essentials. Your grace reaches even those beneath the Nine Springs, and you used purification rites to make them clear and pure.

The tally of merit and practice has reached three thousand. Your name is written on a jade slip and preserved at Pearl Shore.

The man was reluctant to take up his appointment and remained undecided. The Celestial Emperor said, “This matter has its established rules, but also allows for expedient measures. A post in Heaven suits you well. Why look back with longing on the human world and delay your departure?”

Everyone wore pearl-trimmed shoes and sable-trimmed hats, dressed in splendid, brightly colored robes of the immortals. The ranks stood in ordered rows on either side, their movements flowing like drifting wind and smoke. They stepped forward to bow and then received their commands with reverent devotion. The procession and its acclaim filled the hall with great splendor.

In life, the lord never competed with others for distinction. Before he had even passed away, he had already been summoned to Heaven to take up his post.

His son put on his clothes and prepared to follow, carrying a whip. The steps of the heavenly court rose steep and sheer, guarded by sixty warriors in heavy armor. Their imposing might made one’s hair stand on end and sent a chill across one’s back. The soul seemed to fly away, then drift back in a daze.

The tale of the man who mistook a deer for a banana tree seems to have some truth: the world of the dead and the world of the living are separated by an immeasurable gulf. The departed are gone, like water that flows away and never returns. Even if the living faintly sense them nearby, they can only grieve in vain.

To have failed to care for one’s parents while they were alive is cause for sorrow and self-reproach; one might even grieve to the point of harming oneself.

The story of Hibiscus City has been passed down through the generations, and people have wished to follow Su Shi, known by his literary name Dongpo, and continue the work he left unfinished. Those gathered to mourn are burdened with affairs and troubled in spirit; even their laughter is low and hoarse, and they cannot come together at ease.

I do not take pleasure in jesting or mockery. I only wish to help those who come after understand the lesson in this.

The lord lived with frankness and integrity, and the good seeds he planted will endure without end. He truly believed that Heaven’s Way is straight as a bowstring, and so received the Celestial Emperor’s special favor and care.

When desire was about to arise, the Celestial Emperor would hear of it in advance. This was to ensure the prosperity of his descendants and bring renown to his name.

Your family has served as officials for generations and enjoys a distinguished household. In time, you may restore your ancestors’ former standing and once again possess the “blue felt,” a symbol of an inherited family legacy. May you look up to Zeng Shen and Min Ziqian, the ancients famed for filial devotion, and uphold your mother’s upright aspirations, so that her hopes are not disappointed.

You should devote yourself to studying the classics and histories, work hard, and never turn to other pursuits or lose yourself in music and the playing of instruments.

The lord’s abundant virtue and good deeds are truly a field of merit for generations to come; their benefits will spread far and wide. How could the prosperity of the family amount to no more than eight hundred years of good fortune? Under the lord’s protection, his descendants too will live in peace and comfort, and may yet restore the family’s former standing. May you look up to Zeng Shen and Min Ziqian, uphold your mother’s aspirations, and devote yourself to studying the classics and histories with diligence, without turning aside to lose yourself in music and the playing of instruments.

Your abundant De and good deeds are acts of virtue that truly accumulate blessings, bringing grace to your descendants without end. The mansion you built has brought blessings and prosperity for far more than eight hundred years. Thanks to your protection, people have been able to live and work in peace.

People should always remember to honor and make offerings to you, present the proper sacrifices, and care for the ritual vessels. Above all, they should continue these rites over the long term, with sincere and diligent devotion.

In his dream, your son was deeply concerned about this matter; his feelings ran deep. What he saw in the dream was not confused or inverted. The signs in the dream corresponded with one another, like a lotus taking root and growing. Each event came to pass, and signs appeared at the banquet as well.

Though the workings of creation speak no words, they turn with subtle precision in secret. Through these events, they have revealed your virtue and made this principle known to you.

Let this account be set down for now as clear evidence. Yet those looking on draw back, unwilling to act; they feel aversion and are troubled and uncertain.

Presented to Lord Lin Dongcun

King Zhou of Yin was cruel and lawless, and took as his wife a woman of the Su clan. Meanwhile, a recluse by the Eastern Sea fished, lying across the back of an ox. When Qin Shi Huang grew angry and burned the books, then buried Confucian scholars alive, the calamity that followed should surely serve as a warning. Qu Yuan, whose courtesy name was Zhengze, wandered in frustration, far from the world’s conflicts. He would rather follow Peng Xian and keep his resolve to himself all day long.

Why did Fan Li, once known as Chiyi Zipi and later as Lord Taozhu, take to a small boat and roam across the Five Lakes? If one sinks into sensual pleasures, one exhausts one’s vital essence and wears down body and mind, willingly becoming blind, deaf, and dull-witted. Those whose conduct twists and turns again and again are always hesitant and unable to advance; and how grating are those vulgar, clamorous voices.

The Nine-Bao, an honored name for the phoenix, no longer makes its home in the lofty parasol tree provided for its roost.

Fan Li, once known as Chiyi Zipi and later as Lord Taozhu, why did he take to a boat and roam across the Five Lakes? If one sinks into sensual pleasures, one exhausts one’s vital essence and wears down body and mind, willingly becoming blind, deaf, and dull-witted. Those whose conduct twists and turns again and again are always hesitant and unable to advance; and how grating are those vulgar, clamorous voices.

The Nine-Bao no longer roosts in the lofty parasol tree. It cries at night and hides by day, like a fox kept in captivity. Pitiable are people of the world today: they wear autumnal cornelian cherry, live among trees and grasses, yet remain trapped in worldly concerns. The stone steps and plank road that climb toward Heaven are perilous; compared with them, the roads of the world are even more tortuous.

In the depths of the Bohai Sea lies a great abyss called Guixu. By comparison, craving is like a murky river with no visible bottom. In former times, people of broad learning who sought profit through cunning and scheming busied themselves day after day, all becoming members of the same profit-seeking crowd. They appeared open and honest, but in truth were deceitful and flattering, sighing as they went. They looked down on one another while currying favor, and actually took this behavior for cleverness.

Emperors, kings, and hegemons each belonged to different times and circumstances; not everyone could yield the world with the courtesy of Tang Yao and Yu Shun. From the vault of Heaven above to the cosmos below, all seem to travel along a single road. From antiquity to the present is no more than a fleeting instant. Countless points of light fill the sky at dusk; darkness and dawn intertwine in their alternation, while time flashes past like a white horse glimpsed through a crack.

Who can fathom the numinous mystery of Hundun, the primordial state before Heaven and Earth were divided? Wangmang was so as well. From the vault of Heaven above to the cosmos below, all seem to travel along a single road. From antiquity to the present is no more than a fleeting instant. Countless points of light fill the sky at dusk; darkness and dawn intertwine in their alternation, while time flashes past like a white horse glimpsed through a crack.

Who can fathom the mystery of Heaven and Earth at the moment of their beginning? The land of Wangmang, a name from ancient legend, guards its fief. A Yellow Dragon emerged bearing a five-colored chart, while the trigrams on the back of a sacred tortoise disclosed Heaven’s secrets. The events recorded in the ancient books are indeed credible; do not dismiss the teachings of Zhuangzi and Laozi as empty.

This temple has been worshipped for more than four hundred years. In the past, I was ordered to hold the tally of authority and guard Jiangdu. During the Jiaxi era, the emperor issued a gracious decree, sending blessings like rain and dew, and bestowed an honorific title on the Lingji Shrine, bringing it renown throughout the region. In recent years, the shrine gradually fell into disrepair, so it has now been rebuilt on a grand scale.

I wrote the inscription for the stele myself, yet it is like casting a pearl into darkness: who will treat it with due seriousness and spread its renown? A person of outstanding talent and profound learning such as yourself, upright in character and renowned far and wide, writes with the force of sharp blades, able to lead the charge and send enemy troops fleeing in terror.

The sacred jade script, radiant with brilliance, is ready to be revealed. I ask you to compose an inscription and record this affair. Why do you hesitate? My two earlier letters received no reply. What could the reason be? Even after writing these words, I feel I have not expressed enough. I only hope that the shrine’s divine virtue will accord with the Way of Heaven and Earth, and that your account of this affair will make clear that my surname is Xu.

Reply to a Question About Tomb Repairs

How imposing the old tombs on Mount Beimang once were! Their occupants must have thought their families’ wealth and rank would endure for a thousand years. Their names, carved on steles in characters as large as a peck, remain—but if we ask about their descendants today, who can tell us anything definite?

In those days, people certainly consulted divination about good and ill fortune. Yet the workings of creation are changeable and unpredictable; what could divination ultimately achieve? Fortune and misfortune follow no fixed course; people bring them upon themselves. Goodness in the heart is the foundation of good fortune.

Alas, people are foolish and deluded. Why set barriers between one another? Think of the spirits of your own ancestors; how much more should you remember that you share the same clan, bound by ties of flesh and blood.

Where are the royal tombs built in earlier times now? If someone builds a tomb for their mother, does that necessarily earn them a reputation for filial piety? Have you not heard that an imperial aura once rested over Jinling, and that the Qin people tried to suppress it?

Wu Zetian was born in the imperial harem, and Emperor Gaozong was not unaware of it. If matters of state can be like this, why should the affairs between ordinary people be surprising? Digging up graves and burning corpses are not virtuous acts. Do not do to others what you would not wish done to yourself. Both families have their own secrets; with Heaven’s spirits above, none of this can be concealed.

Reply to Zhou Shiyu About the Matter

Travel south to Yue, north to the lands of the Hu, west into Qin, or east to Wu: wherever you go, you will find heroes and men of true stature.

Walking out the door, with arrows made of cogongrass in hand, one can handle whatever lies immediately ahead.

Reply to Zhou Shiyu’s Question

To go south to Yue, north to the lands of the Hu, west into Qin, or east to Wu—these are all merely places traveled by heroes and great men.

Setting out on a long journey, I carry arrows of cogongrass and wear a bow of mulberry wood. Though Heyang, famed for its blossoms, is rich and flourishing, I still let myself ride a donkey.

In our dealings with others, whether young or old, when affection runs deep there is no need to be bound by formalities. In ancient times there were close friends like Chen and Lei; today, too, there are friends like Huang and Su.

I understand your intentions perfectly well. Why consult a diviner in Yue?

Now the road stretches open and smooth all the way, and even a simple meal comes with delicious greens. A letter from home saying all is well brings even greater joy.

Reply to Mr. Lü’s Question about the Horse and Rice

The old man of Gechuan, Wang Fangping, a legendary immortal, happened to pass through eastern Wu and went to visit Cai Jing. Ordinary people could not see what the immortal looked like; they heard only the sound of carriages and horses in the sky.

The banquet table was laden with gold plates, jade cups, and all manner of delicacies. As the wine was nearly finished, the music of the Yunhe sheng, like celestial music, began again. In an instant the immortal rose on the wind, his ornaments chiming as he rode a tiger-drawn carriage with dragons toward Ziqing, the realm of the immortals.

The immortal left me a scroll of the Huangting (a Daoist classic), and said that cinnabar was originally transformed from rice. Its five colors are vivid, its radiance dazzling, yet the sun and moon in the immortal realm never linger.

The sea can turn shallow, and dust can rise in clouds. The man inside the oranges of Ba County, a legendary immortal said to dwell within an orange, heard nothing but dogs barking. Why should people of the world compete to outdo one another? And what does it matter if women shave their foreheads and paint them yellow?

In the rush of things, victory and defeat, gain and loss, all come from rice transformed. Haven’t you heard? In the Dark Sea there are dates as large as gourds, and on Ying Mountain there are plums as large as bottles. What joy is there in the immortal realm within the orange? Eat these dates and plums, and you may preserve your life forever.

Encouraging the Painter Cai

People say that the Cai family excels at painting, as if its heir were General Gu Kaizhi, known by the courtesy name Hutou, the celebrated painter of the Eastern Jin. There are clear standards for the precision or roughness, the merits and flaws of a painting, and its expression and spirit are rendered true to life.

On the ninth day of the ninth month two years ago, he came to visit me and painted images of elite soldiers and spirits.

The mighty warriors wear great-feathered arrows at their waists, their thick hair standing on end as they gaze upward. On both the eastern and western sides stand images of the stars of blessing and prosperity; every dot and stroke is full of life.

Only when the court was full of officials dressed in crimson and purple did I believe that studying for office truly does not hold a person back.

In the painting, the perfected immortal goes to pay court at the palace where the emperor resides. His radiance reflects the sun and moon, as if he stood alongside the stars. In the world below, he brings rain and commands thunder, personally carrying out the Celestial Emperor’s decree and bestowing blessings on all beings.

On returning to his grotto dwelling, he strikes up immortal music; the sleeves of his robe are faintly scented by incense from the imperial burner.

On either side stand jade railings, with silver hooks holding up vermilion curtains. As the music of “Liumo” reaches its rapid passage, dancers sway their slender waists. All manner of comic entertainments amuse and delight, full of ingenious charm.

Only the murals in the sleeping hall remain unfinished. I know you are a masterful artist, skilled with the brush. The jade railings, silver hooks and vermilion curtains, the music, dance, and variety acts—all await your depiction.

You cannot leave, you cannot leave. Painters as gifted as you are few indeed. Year after year has passed, and everyone says your resolve is firm enough to wear through stone.

Enjoying the moon and the breeze need not involve talk of money; every drink and meal is tied to an affinity from a former life.

As for this matter, let only the Xu family’s son undertake it. Yet he does not know that peach and cassia, too, are immortals. The meaning of the tune taught last year has not yet been fully conveyed. Now I shall compose another old-style poem and offer a few words of encouragement.

Reply to a Student’s Question About an Eye Ailment

People say that the Five Aggregates—the five elements said in Buddhism to constitute the body and experience—are all things that harm us. Who would have thought that Heaven would especially cherish my eyes? I would sooner gouge them out and hang them on the gate. Who would imitate Dongshi’s frown and praise that purple stone?

The debt I owe for the books passed down by Fusheng, the Han scholar who transmitted the Book of Documents, remains unpaid. Should I really believe the tale that King Gong hid the books in Confucius’ former residence?

I worry only about the Way and righteousness, not about poverty. Why, then, do tears fall from my eyes? They ache and itch, yet I cannot reach them to scratch. Lately they have grown red, swollen, and ulcerated, and my vision has become dim and blurred.

I am ashamed that my talent and understanding are not what they once were. Who would imitate Dongshi’s frown and praise that purple stone?

The debt I owe for the books passed down by Fusheng remains unpaid. Should I really believe the tale that King Gong hid the books in Confucius’ former residence?

I worry only about the Way and righteousness, not about poverty. Why, then, do tears fall from my eyes? They ache and itch, yet I cannot reach them to scratch. Lately they have grown red, swollen, and ulcerated, and my vision has become dim and blurred.

I am ashamed that my intelligence is not what it once was, and my spirit grows more withered by the day. I sink ever further into hardship and decline.

By the lamp, the candle flame wavers; before my eyes, halos and drifting specks seem to appear. I can no longer distinguish the colors blue-green, yellow, green, and jade. I point to the returning wild geese, hoping to tell where they are flying. Fortunately, I can still make out east, west, south, and north.

The bright moon shines before me, and the toad’s reflection seems to fall across my mind. Dust has clouded the mirror; who will come to wipe it clean?

The arm had been injured many times, and over the years it was treated by several renowned physicians like Hua Tuo. They also scraped it with a golden lancet and applied medicinal salves; fine needles, sharp as a grain of wheat, pierced the skin. Could the scars and illness have accumulated until the disease had reached its final stage? Why did the medicines remain on the skin, while the stubborn illness could not be treated at its root?

What exactly is meant by “after seven, remove two”? What a ridiculous impurity! The talisman maker is actually wielding knife and brush.

A wizard cannot return to life after death, and it is hard to predict good or ill fortune in advance. I imagine your heart has always been open and honest; do not say that this elder’s fate has been beset by misfortune.

If we ask what caused this, whom should we blame? He says himself that he was absorbed in writing books and had a passion for collecting them.

Why not be even more severe, hanging one’s hair and pricking one’s thigh? He studied hard all year, exhausting his strength and concentration. The young attendant in blue neglected his duty; overnight, the west wind stirred the loose stones nearby.

The leaves fell, and the illness grew more violent than winter. The dream of withdrawing to the mountains and forests had also come to nothing.

I ask, Uncle He, what caused this illness? Seeking an answer in the pulse beneath the fingers, I find only the “gate pulse.” The pulse is faint and scattered; how could it yield a diagnosis? This is a disorder in the movement of Qi, caused by the failure to harmonize the Six Excesses—wind, cold, summer heat, dampness, dryness, and fire, among other external influences.

I have not made friends like Zizhong of Yuling, so how would I know what Li Cao meant by “the three things fit to swallow”?

I have heard that divine fire can set the transformations of Heaven and Earth in motion, and that Song Yangli has mastered a wondrous secret. The workings of Heaven and Earth are obscure and difficult to describe, so let me try, for now, to lay out the matter in writing and sketch its main points.

I took bear-gall salve from the Handy Emergency Prescriptions (Zhouhou fang), an ancient medical book, and gave it to you, sir, as a small gesture to meet the occasion.

Your reputation has spread across the four seas. I hope you will write a single character for me, as proof that this matter has been passed down.

Asking Lord of East Village to Write the Record

The spirit has already been recorded and has also received an inscribed plaque in seal script. Now I wish to ask for an inscription on a stone stele, to make its virtue known and fulfill its purpose. We must seek a master of prose like Sun Chuo, whose words can be carved in stone and handed down. The inscription uses an archaic form and has thirty-eight lines: the number of lines first rises from one to ten, then falls from ten back to one.

A stele inscription is a written account of events; the spirit in question is quite extraordinary. The aim is not to seek fame, but simply to recount what happened. Though I enjoy judging others, I am grateful that I myself have not been cast aside. It receives offerings in this locality, and its renown has been passed down for five generations. The story began in the jiashen year of the Kaiyun era…

This text records the deeds of a deity and raises a stele in his honor; it was not written to seek fame. The deity is revered and praised, and gladly protects the people. He receives offerings in this region, and his renown has endured for five generations. The story began in the jiǎchén year of the Kāiyùn era (944). By the guǐsì year of the Zhìyuán era under the Yuan (1293), more than four hundred years had passed. Tradition says that he once led eight thousand elite cavalrymen to pacify the people of Fujian, and his temple has stood there for more than four hundred years.

The deity is wise and upright, his virtue fragrant. The good or ill fortune people encounter is brought about by their own actions. The world is full of hardship, and the path to office is treacherous. Some rely not on learning and the classics, but on cunning to outdo others. Fan Kuai and Guan Ying made their living selling cloth and slaughtering dogs before rising to prominence; Dong Zhongshu and Jia Yi sought distinction by presenting proposals and composing rhapsodies. People deceive one another and compete for profit, driven by greed and harshness; from top to bottom, all are busy pursuing private gain. Wisdom and folly in this world are not fixed. Even if someone acquires a thousand gold pieces or leaves behind a classic, that does not necessarily tell us who wrote the eight characters carved on the back of this stele.

Master Shenmeng inherited a scholarly tradition, and his style suited that of the Attendant Gentleman Jian Su. Since there is already calligraphy as forceful as iron strokes and silver hooks, there must also be writing rich as embroidered brocade. The inscription for the shrine may be compared to Han Yu’s “Record of the Luochi Temple,” written for the temple of Liu Zongyuan. The author modestly claims that no one can match his talent and that his seal script is beyond reproach. Yet this text is written under another person’s name, while expressing the author’s own thoughts. It closes with a plea for the deity’s protection, offered with sincere devotion and a sense of shame.

“Seeing You Off”

Wrong, wrong—why sing such stiff and trivial songs? These apparent mistakes may not really be mistakes; most people in this world are simply cold and treacherous. Say no more. Look: red light flickers among the lychee branches. I make my plea, relying on the deity’s protection; I offer these words sincerely, though my heart is ashamed.

“Seeing You Off”

Wrong, wrong—why sing such constrained, sorrowful songs? What is called “wrong” may not truly be wrong; the ways of the world are often cold and unfeeling. Do not speak only of what lies before your eyes: red light glimmers on the lychee branches, like scarlet crows pecking at the fruit. To be enfeoffed with a thousand households is certainly something to boast of; yet if all one does is dance in a wine jar, one is merely amusing oneself.

The treasured sword of Fengcheng and the uncarved jade of Kunshan now seem to have been sought in vain. Was Zhan Yin, the ancient diviner, ineffective, or did the immortal Hufu make a fool of me? I seem to be holding rotten reins, unable to master the situation before me.

Wrong, wrong—why sing such sorrowful songs? What is called “wrong” may not truly be wrong. This year falls in the “Nian Tan” year; next year will be called “Ming Zuo E.” Thunder rumbles faintly, like the beating of a heavenly drum. A horned dragon surges upward, growing horns and crest. The people of the realm all long for sweet rain. In time, you will leap into the Celestial Lake and soar straight into the sky.

Do not speak only of how difficult your fortunes have been in recent years. Startled birds perch on crooked branches; fish are wounded by their greed for bait; it is like a cold turtle drawing its head into its shell. Have you ever seen the old farmer toil, plowing in spring and sowing in summer, hoping only for an autumn harvest? Most things in the world are like this: with steadfast resolve, even stone can be pierced.

Do not speak only of the hardships and setbacks of these years. Startled birds perch on crooked branches, fish are wounded when they swallow bait, and cold turtles draw their heads into their shells. Yet the old farmer still plows in spring and sows in summer, hoping for an autumn harvest. Most things in the world are much the same: with firm resolve, one can accomplish something.

Wrong, wrong—why sing such sorrowful songs? What is called “wrong” may not truly be wrong. I told Shushu Zi that there was no such thing as a banana-leaf deer in the forest. The “banana-leaf deer” comes from a parable about a man who mistook a deer beneath a banana leaf for something he had truly acquired, then forgot where he had hidden it. It symbolizes mistaking the illusory for the real. Huan Tan once forcefully condemned apocryphal prophecies—claims that attached predictions to the Mandate of Heaven—as absurd and untrustworthy. Who could have guessed that an arrow, once loosed, would actually strike a parrot in autumn?

What day is it today? Someone points out that it is the first day of the seventh month. And what day comes after that? The divination says the second day of the tenth month is auspicious. The wind sighs, and the horses pace without advancing. The road is long and narrow; the carriage jolts along with difficulty. A heavy burden rests on one’s shoulders, and one must cross one perilous stretch after another. Tell me, how many miles is it from here to Qingyuan?

What is the land like here? The region is vast, with the sea and sky stretching into the distance and mountain peaks rising high. Few people live here; in a quiet place stands an ancient walled enclosure. The magistrate sends crossbowmen ahead to clear the way, while Yue merchants and foreign traders arrive one after another. Pearls shine like the moon; heaps of red cang jade rise like mountains; gold threads wind around rare treasures. There is also a coral tree two feet tall and eight hundred hu of pepper. The markets and passes have clear regulations, yet both official duties and private tolls are still collected. With so much acquired, it is packed into felt bags and straw mats, and the donkeys and camels are loaded full. Please do not forget the old man next door; when you return, give me a ladleful.

Wrong, wrong—why sing such sorrowful songs? Now the situation must be grasped firmly. A game of chess at dusk is hardest to read; this time, every move must count. Do not let your journey go to waste: this poem is written for you. Those who awaken first must also rouse those who awaken later. Everyone, set out your general plans. Who among those with ambitions reaching in all directions would willingly fall into hardship and end up filling a ditch? Wealth and rank are not determined entirely by Heaven; people should stand on their own strength and distinguish themselves. Let us encourage one another earnestly: what is called “wrong” may not truly be wrong.

It is amusing how often people fail to see the subtle principles at work in things. The “investigation of things and extension of knowledge” discussed in the Great Learning—examining things and gaining understanding—is precisely a vital foundation for cultivation and study.

All things unfold naturally. This is the mysterious wonder of divine workings, the subtle transformations of Heaven and Earth. Even without deliberate inquiry, a person may come to understand something through an unseen process.

If words cannot be supported by one’s own experience, they are easily met with ridicule. Fortune and misfortune follow no fixed path; people bring them upon themselves.

With your talent, you could have won great renown; with your aspirations, you could have enjoyed a secluded life in the mountains and forests. Sima Xiangru once inscribed his ambition at the Ascending Immortals Bridge, and those who later built the Chengdu Temple, too, had lofty aims. What sort of people were they? Their aspirations were no ordinary ones.

Yan Hui took Confucius as his model and strove to become like him. Who could say he was not worthy? Yet why are your plans now so narrow in outlook? If you do not strive now, the days and months will soon be gone. Old age is already drawing near; do not keep saying you are still young.

Yan Hui took Confucius as his model and strove to become like him. Who could say he was not worthy? Yet why are your plans now so narrow in outlook? If you do not strive now, the days and months will soon be gone. Old age is already drawing near; do not keep saying you are still young.

It would be a great pity to give up on yourself and resign yourself to laboring and running about like an ox or a horse. My words are plain and unpolished, but your nature and intentions will surely understand them.

Let me set down these vulgar words for now; they are rather laughable.

The gates are shut one after another, and pine branches lie across the door like a lock, keeping it from opening. May I ask where the master is? In the west, not the east. Please stay awhile; news will arrive soon. Tomorrow, when you hear the magpies call, there will be happy tidings. Then we shall meet again.

My hair has not yet grown long and disheveled. “Peace” is the customary saying and family motto of my household. As the moonlight grows dim, Chang’e is seen again, calling for her attendant. Shuangcheng, surnamed Dong, is the immortal maiden who serves the Queen Mother of the West; the Queen Mother soars away. Now that good fortune is near, everyone is smiling, with rouge on their cheeks.

If you hope to gain wealth through poverty, what means can you use? Some sell oil, others sell fermented drink; some trade in cloudy wine, while others deal in all kinds of goods. There are also people such as Qi, Dun, Zhou, and Yang, each with a livelihood of their own. Each of them makes the most of their particular strengths.

People come and go in a bustling stream, all hurrying after wealth and profit. As the ancients said, working for a living is not as good as doing business.

The fish is about to become a dragon; news from the Yu Gate—the legendary Dragon Gate where a carp leaps and transforms into a dragon—is close at hand. Thunder rolls across a hundred miles, and rain falls in abundance; it is time to begin farmwork. Asked whether the snow still covers the neighboring village, people say the cuckoo is already calling urgently, again and again. The matter Chen Nushi asked about is like a fish leaping through the Dragon Gate, like spring rain urging the plow: the moment is near, and action should be taken soon.

Like a fish leaping toward the Dragon Gate, transformation into a dragon is now close at hand. Thunder rolls, startling everything within a hundred miles. The rain is plentiful, and farm work is beginning to bustle. One might ask whether the fields in the neighboring village are still covered in snow. All one hears is the cuckoo’s urgent, repeated call, urging people to begin spring plowing. Apply yourself early, and transformation into a dragon may be expected; once transformed, you will welcome another scene of peach and plum blossoms in full bloom.

The clouds disperse and the rain stops; swallows carry mud to build their nests. Young nobles gather to talk, then return after enjoying the spring, vying to wear splendid clothes. What does a house full of gold amount to then? Tao Zhugong (Fan Li, who retired after making a fortune) once lived here. He changed his name and returned to his hometown. When he played the zither in Linzi, the capital of Qi, he was not appreciated. Later, looking back at his seal of office as chancellor, he considered it no more valuable than a battered chest or drawer.

Life is like Zhuang Zhou’s dream of becoming a butterfly: in the blink of an eye, it is gone. I urge you to treasure the time before you, hold fast to what is proper in your heart, and leave this heartland to your descendants as a foundation for making their way in the world. Five, six, and seven are the key numbers; they mark the place where your future will unfold smoothly.

Presented to the Man Who Carves Steles

The spirits are upright and true, not demons or evil beings. I live in a desolate, dilapidated house, and am ashamed to accept your invitation. Though you have genuine talent and are worthy of great responsibility, I consider myself like rotten wood, unfit for your carving.

The people of Yin honored others with bundles of silk, showing that proper ceremony still endured. You have generously composed a poem and will surely take first place in the literary world. The prosperity of later generations comes from the virtue accumulated by their ancestors; in time, the auspicious sign of a phoenix calling in the court will surely appear.

Letter of Thanks to Registrar Lin for the Stele Inscription

The ruined temple on the ancient plain has become a desolate ruin, stirring regret. Here, the lineages and descent are recorded in the order of the Xu surname. A hero grows old and ends like earth and timber. Who understands the teachings of the classics well enough to meet here?

Though I could not obtain a stele inscription written by Han Yu himself, I am glad to have a work like Liu Zongyuan’s preserved here. I am ashamed that I have no five hundred gold pieces to offer as a writing fee. The spirits will protect you unseen, and they also know what is in my heart.

Farewell to the Painter Cai

Your masterful hand in painting seems wholly natural, carrying on the artistic tradition of Gu Kaizhi and Lu Tanwei. As you paint, your brushwork appears simple, yet the skill behind it runs deep; the glue and pigments are applied thickly, and the colors are especially vivid.

Your inscription on the wall will endure for all time. You are practiced and gracious in your dealings, with as many as three thousand guests. Now that we part, my heart is heavy. I send you off with three cups of light wine and one more poem.

Four Daoists Appear When an Altar Is Established at This Palace

When an altar was established at this palace, four Daoists appeared.

Four immortals manifested and descended upon the sacred altar, where sacrifices were offered and Daoist rites performed. Sadly, the people of that time lacked the discerning eye to recognize them. The immortals wore gourds over their shoulders, smiling with mouths open; they held bats in their hands and strode out with easy, unhurried steps.

The heart is like a cloud, free to come and go; even the iron pillar a thousand years old is now mottled with age. You ask where I am? Beyond Mount Penglai, and farther still, among the mountains.

Presented to Elder Tianwang, Whose Fundraising Came to Nothing

The bond between Elder Tianwang and me is slight, and we have grown distant from one another; such is the turn of events. Though the spirits have descended, their forms remain coiled and constrained. Since we have long known that we are as far apart as Qin and Yue, how could we share the deep, unbreakable friendship of Chen Zhong and Lei Yi?

Empty compositions in ornate parallel prose are fit only to seal jars of sauce. Divining again and again for good fortune merely wastes the feast. It is no use wearing myself out longing for you; better to go drink from a stone spring in the mountains.

Three Poems in Reply to Questions

People have prayed to the spirits for blessings since ancient times, yet when it comes to doing good works and contributing effort or money, they often find no reason to act. Emperor Wu of Liang once offered himself to a Buddhist temple, and later generations mocked him. Some act with deceit in their hearts, merely following old customs from the Man and Min regions.

Do not say that planting blessings has no foundation; the fear is that this fragile body will turn to dust after death. Life passes in an instant, like a colt flashing past an opening in a wall—a sight that makes one sigh as Zhao Meng continues his earnest exhortations.

Seen from a place of stillness, people in this world are truly laughable, yet they do not understand the causes and effects linking past and present lives. All things gather through karmic conditions. So it was in the Later Jin; who can know what things were like long ago under Wang Min?

All manner of wealth and honor fades like a dream, and how many heroes have turned to dust. One should devote oneself to good works that bring relief to living beings; there is no need to keep repeating the same admonitions.

The spirits’ beneficence appears in the human world. Perhaps it is not determined by people’s prayers, nor may it depend entirely on Heaven’s will. A single spark of numinous power can fill Heaven and Earth; an ancient temple a thousand years old still stands proudly in the lands of Ou and Min, in what is now Fujian.

The western stele has yet to be erected, leaving only written records behind; dust still clings to the inner wall. To carry a task through from beginning to end is the way of the gentleman. Why keep invoking miraculous traces of writing to urge people again and again?

In Reply to the Liang Family’s Question About Relocating a Burial

The auspicious burial site shaped like a resting ox had long ago been chosen for Lord Tao’s tomb, and the Immortal White Crane had briefly descended into the human world. The site’s favorable geomantic features accorded with the virtue of the ancestors. How could one dare say that the human world, compared with Heaven, was truly so vast?

Sure enough, the ancestors’ numinous energy seemed still to bless their descendants, watching them rise to high office. A peach was offered in return for a kindness precious as jade; it was as though Creation itself understood how to repay a gift.

The Prefect of Shanglin Adopts Cao E’s Style

Before your command had even arrived, the whole essay was already written; what I had recorded in my sleeve told me long ago that this journey would cross a great river. Praises rang through the countryside as carriage after carriage arrived; beneath the two sweet-olive trees, people remembered the worthy official.

Ten Remarkable Peaks of Baodian

Golden Turtle Peak

It once seemed to drift here from the sea, like the immortal mountains Fanghu and Penglai, then circle and settle, as if reluctant to leave. After a thousand years, I have found this place where numinous beauty gathers. Alas, I lack the talent of pillars strong enough to hold up the sky.

Writing Brush Peak

The peak rises alone, steep and straight, reaching into the distant, shadowed sky; seen from afar, it looks like a brush rest thrust high into the clouds. Since ancient times, this place has produced many who rose to prominence in official life. The auspicious energy gathered by these mountains and rivers has also nurtured people of outstanding literary talent.

Greedy Wolf Peak

The light of the Northern Dipper’s seven stars shines upon literary achievement. How could this mountain have risen from the earth without cause? I long to climb to its highest summit and remain forever like a tongue upon the land, helping bring peace to all under Heaven. (“Greedy Wolf” is the name of a star; here, the poet draws on the star and the peak’s name to express a hope.)

Lotus Peak

A lotus fair as jade stands tall in the distance, like the Buddha’s topknot; its faint fragrance drifts into a remote and quiet place. If a heavenly wind could bring a lotus leaf, it too would sail upon it with the Perfected Taiyi. (The Perfected Taiyi is a Daoist immortal; the poem evokes an immortal realm through the image of drifting on a lotus leaf.)

Square Cliff Peak

A cliff of stone, shaped like a fan, is set in the sky, as if opening out at the edge of Heaven. Its scenery surpasses the immortal realm of Penglai. At times, an immortal descends from the blue sky after paying homage in the celestial court, pausing here to sit upon the moss.

White Deer Peak

How many years ago did the white deer come here? Its rugged peak still leans against the blue sky. In my leisure, I speak not only of the secrets of cultivating the Dao, but also seek out monks in the forest to ask about Zen.

Ancient City Peak

Tier upon tier, the peaks are lush and green; the old fortress has long since lost its foundations, and the mountain range stretches without end in the distance. At midnight, beneath the bright moon, the sounds of nature rise all around. In a half-dream, it seems that an immortal crane has flown back to Liaodong. (“Liaodong” alludes to Ding Lingwei, who transformed into a crane and returned.)

Flying Penglai Peak

It seems to have flown here from the immortal island of Penglai in the sea, its cinnabar-red cliffs and emerald stone walls rising high and stretching into the distance. Where is the immortal who played the reed pipe now? Only a thousand green peach trees still bloom.

Purple Terrace Peak rises abruptly east of the Yue River. A winding mountain path threads through scenery where purple and emerald hues mingle. On several moonlit nights, an immortal maiden descended from the sea; it seems one can still hear the jade pendants at her waist chiming in the breeze.

Peaceful Peak

The kind and generous spirit of a peaceful age spreads everywhere. This mountain is fortunate indeed to bear the fine name “Peaceful.” Several times I flew to its summit and gazed into the distance, seeing only the vastness of heaven and earth and the clear light in every direction.

Eight Poems on True Immortals in Pictures

The True Palace on Turtle Isle

The Golden Turtle crag rises from the sea, and a True Palace stands upon it, firmly built. The radiance of the immortal beings endures without fading, and the place where their palace and temple stand is naturally serene and lofty.

The night moon shines on the cinnabar well; spring winds open the green peach blossoms. When loyal ministers assist the state, commendations from the court follow in the form of imperial edicts.

The Dragon Pool’s Leaping Waterfall

The Dragon Pool towers a thousand fathoms high, beyond the reach of climbers. Its waterfall plunges straight down, as though rainbow clouds were falling from the sky. The immortals gather the mountain’s spiritual treasures and return late; then they leisurely play in the water, washing away in the clear stream the earth used to prepare their elixirs.

Bamboo Crag After Snow

The numinous crag holds the auspicious snow as dawn breaks and the sky clears. Snowdrifts reflect the rising sun; the frozen snow gleams like crystal, bright against the clear sky.

Low Waterfall

The Dragon Pool towers a thousand fathoms high, beyond the reach of climbers. Its waterfall plunges straight down, as though rainbow clouds were falling from the sky. The immortals gather the mountain’s spiritual treasures and return late; then they leisurely play in the water, washing away in the clear stream the earth used to prepare their elixirs.

Bamboo Crag After Snow

The numinous crag holds the auspicious snow as dawn breaks and the sky clears. Snowdrifts reflect the rising sun; the frozen snow gleams like crystal, bright against the clear sky.

From the lower cliffs, bamboo leans out, its stalks bowed; above, heavy snow weighs down the old pines. I long to fly to the rugged summit and stroll at ease in a crane-feather cloak, the robe often worn by Daoist adepts.

Immortal Isle and Sacred Mushroom

The Three Blossoms, the legendary sacred mushrooms, flourish in radiant splendor; the vital harmony of the Great Harmony nurtures their numinous roots. I live in seclusion here and have no way to repay this gift, so I gather the mushrooms and present them to Yu Yan, who then offers them to the ruler.

The Returning Tide at Green Cove

In the distance, the cold tide recedes, winding along the water’s edge and stretching far into view. Scattered stones show among the grass roots, and a flat sandbar appears at the river mouth.

Crows peck at the muddy shore, while boats are moored at an angle beside an old willow. Before long, the tide rises again, and one can set out by boat to wander through the realm of immortals.

Passersby at South Pond

Carriages and horses race past, each rushing to be on its way. The road runs north and south, reaching all the way to the mountains of Min. Pity the people of the world, bustling about amid worldly dust: how can their hurried lives compare with the ease and leisure of the years spent in an immortal palace?

Woodridge Woodcutter’s Song

A woodcutter’s song drifts down from Woodridge. On the rugged mountain path, the sun has already set. The song rings out, distant and lilting, crossing a winding mountain stream; then, mingling with cries like the boatmen’s calls, it comes through the layers of forest.

When the song dips low, it sounds like a golden cicada singing; when it rises high, it is like the long cry of a white crane. The Daoist palace is free of worldly sounds. Hearing this song, one’s heart suddenly feels open and at ease.

A Traveler Passing South Pond

Wheels spin swiftly and horses’ hooves thunder as people hurry back and forth. The road runs from north to south, cutting through the mountains of Min—those of the Fujian region. Pity those who bustle about in the dust of worldly life: how could they compare with the sun and moon in an immortal’s palace, so leisurely and free?

The Pagoda in Zhongshan Hollow

The sun rises, and the air on Zhongshan is fresh and pleasant. A seven-tiered pagoda soars high, gleaming with light. Since ancient times, this blessed place has nurtured worthy and gifted people; even in this enlightened age, many have left their names and traces here.

Two Poems Presented to Xu Nancun

How laughable to shape images from earth and wood! I’ll make do with humble, commonplace words to carry on the poem. Sir, you are no Pang Layman, famed for his Chan awakening in the Tang dynasty; how could you make a lamp’s light illuminate the whole vast universe?

I’m ashamed that I lack the skill to harmonize a fine soup, so I jokingly mix all kinds of things together until they make a fragrance. Like a man devouring meat at a butcher’s door, I know well how delicious meat can be. As for a mountain recluse who often eats wild greens, please don’t laugh at him.

Ten Remarkable Peaks of Yushan

Golden Immortal Peak

A thousand years ago, the sight of a great red turtle-like beast had already turned to ashes; only the towering stone peak remained among the buildings. If you feel inclined to climb to the summit and gaze afar, you will see blue-green mountains beyond the clouds, seemingly stretching all the way to Mount Wutai.

Heavenly Pillar Peak

Walking on and on, before we had even reached the mountain, we suddenly heard a bell pierce the morning mist. A peak rises sheer from the earth, steep as a wall; gazing at it, one can almost feel its strength enough to hold up the sky.

Sunrise Peak

At dawn, sheer cliffs plunge into the clouds, while drops of spring water ring out, still carrying the night’s chill. I thought the sky had yet to brighten, but the monkeys’ cries told me it was already daybreak. I opened the door to look: the sun had climbed high.

Third Son Peak

A fishing boat, no larger than a leaf, rests on the stream. I asked someone nearby the surname of the person aboard. With a smile, they pointed to this mountain: its graceful scenery, wildflowers, and birdsong are enough to let anyone wander to their heart’s content.

Golden Splendor Peak

Seen from afar, the peak is like a painted scene, as if it had claimed all of nature’s artistry. Clouds and mist coil around the mountain, reflecting the glow of the setting sun. Pine and fir trees crown the summit, green and bearing the weight of ages. Who could know that by midnight, the transmission of the robe and bowl had already taken place?

Cloud-Rising Peak

The mountain path stretched on for miles, winding through the hills. Dawn had just broken, and mist blurred everything around me; I could barely make out the scenery ahead. Standing in the smoke-like haze, I scratched my head, unable to find the way back. Then I heard a rumble of thunder from below the mountain.

Baotai Peak

The mountain rises in layer upon layer, sheer as the cliffs of Kunlun. Its plank path seems to lead up to the sky, too steep to climb. A clear light on the summit always shines before my eyes. Amid the wind in the firs and moonlight on the osmanthus trees, life is quiet and free.

Dazuo Peak

After rain, clouds and mist reflect the mountain’s blue-black hue. The rocky path is slippery, and few people walk here. I sit cross-legged in stillness, content with the way of Chan meditation. From somewhere, the toll of a cold bell rings out, ushering in the morning.

Yuzhi Peak

A celestial flower has yet to bloom. How could the one who plucks it fail to send it to me? I climb straight to the high peak and sit at its summit, often catching the fragrance as it drifts toward Tiantai.

Twin Child Peaks

A bright mirror hangs above the high terrace, reflecting a clear, pure light. Long ago, the Jade Maiden tried on her makeup here and gazed into the mirror. She still looks like a young maid, her face forever youthful, though her hair has turned white.

Eastern Ravine

The stream murmurs as it flows east, never to return. So it is with the comings and goings of human feeling in this world. Better to be like the white gulls on the shore, at ease and untroubled.

Western Ravine

The mountain is quiet, with nothing to disturb it, and visitors call on one another. I take the chance to ask, “What are you seeking, coming from the west?” The Dao’s body neither increases nor diminishes, and nothing obstructs it. Follow the current onward, and you may reach the River of Heaven.

Jade Cliff

I love the mountain because I love its rugged cliffs. The mountain’s jade-like character calls to mind Jade Kun. Two ravines meet as white egrets fly apart; ten peaks encircle us, their green ridges half hidden from view.

Beneath the light clouds, tea brewed in a stone mortar has a rich flavor. The waning moon shines on the lamp as I finish reading a volume of scripture. By chance I come to the monastery above and ask someone about Chan teachings. I imagine they know that I, too, am no ordinary person.

Two Poems on Seeing Off Chen Daoxing as He Sets Out for Mount Longhu

Zhongnan Mountain has many beautiful sights, yet my desire for fame and office has not faded. Now your name has been entered on the Longhu list of successful examination candidates. Like the plum blossoms opening before all others, you have taken first place.

The work of recommendation and evaluation belongs to Guling; accomplishing something worthy is your future. Magpies cry out as though bringing news of peace. For now, I write this poem and give it to you as you set off on your journey.

In Reply to the Monk Baiyun Dejian

There is no need to say again that your name has been entered on the Longhu list of successful examination candidates, like plum blossoms opening before all others and taking first place.

Recommendations and evaluations have always been overseen by worthy spirits of old. The way forward lies in helping others bring good things to completion. A magpie calls as if bringing news of peace and safety; I shall write a poem to send you on your journey.

In Harmony with the Monk Dejian of White Cloud

Speak no more of the Qin, Sui, Jin, Han, or Tang dynasties. These thatched cottages with three gates are home, deep in the White Clouds. The water buffalo refuses to leave, and the old man on the artificial hill seems still to be there. Tell me: in those days, how many people came here to burn incense?

Four Poems Written on a Whim

Within a tranquil heart lies a world of its own; there is no need to reckon with the changing seasons. Let the world debate what is right and wrong. The times of waking and drunkenness have both passed; where are they now? Beyond the clouds, there are only green mountains; beyond the mountains, still more clouds.

I recall hearing people sing the song “The Capture of the Qilin” long ago; they said only that Gaozi was skilled at conducting himself among people. The lotus seems full of feeling, poised to speak, its beauty captivating. Yet how can it compare with the wordless beauty of flowers in spring?

Where can one find the bright moon and clear breeze? The poet broods over this, his thoughts weighed down. I have forgotten cunning and do not care whether others understand me; the sand gulls themselves trust what is in my heart.

Two autumns have passed in the blink of an eye since we parted. Though I do not speak this feeling aloud, do you know it? The scenery beyond the gate in the green mountains is full of feeling, giving the poet something to write about.

End of Volume Seven of Xu Xian’s Literary Collection

Volume Eight of Xu Xian’s Literary Collection

Ci Poems

“Hall of Kinship,” to the tune of “Linjiang Xian”

Calligraphy, painting, the zither, and chess are all the pleasures of life. The family lives in harmony, while children and grandchildren play before the hall. All share a pot of wine and offer wishes for long life. In my heart I hold the memorized formulas copied from the Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture), cultivating Qi in the Dantian within. A life of wealth and splendor like the immortal realm of Penglai makes one feel like an immortal. One’s name is inscribed on the golden list, and one’s sleeves still carry the fragrance of incense from the imperial brazier.

“Hall of Joyous Celebration,” to the tune of “Qianqiu Sui”

Biefeng is a place of beautiful scenery, with unusually lovely mountains and waters. You should remember the old prophecy. The Qilin is an auspicious sign from Heaven; the luan and phoenix, mandarin ducks, and other birds are good omens among humankind. Now the young man has indeed fulfilled his ambition to leave home, pursue his studies, and achieve distinction; at a tender age, he has passed the examinations and earned a name. More joyful still, both his parents are alive. May they live a thousand years. Like Laolaizi, he wears brightly colored clothes and plays the clown to amuse his parents; it is as though he were attending the Queen Mother’s banquet at the Jade Pool. Everyone gathers for a feast, laughter fills the hall, and golden cups are raised as they drink their fill.

Presented to Shen Jianweng, to the tune of “Xiangsi Yin”

The spirits of mountains and rivers reveal auspicious signs, seeming to take the form of a turtle-shaped peak rising into the sky. The mountains are lush and the waters clear, and happy events follow one after another. If you ask about prospects and wealth, simply cultivate your character and quietly do more good deeds. Planting a locust tree has already shown its promise; in time, you are sure to attain the rank of one of the Three Excellencies, the eminent officials of ancient times.

Presented to Zhou Tong, to the tune “Qingping Yue”

You sit in the hall with a refined and graceful bearing, and in times of success you walk hand in hand with your friends. Wherever you go, the scenery is bright and serene, most inviting for poetry and wine. When autumn comes and the dew turns cold, even in the chilly weather you can paint the landscape in soft or vivid hues. By the fence, yellow chrysanthemums still remain, and you can watch them keep their fragrance into late autumn.

Presented to Zhou Ming, to the tune “Gengluozi”

A calm and tranquil household is best. In times of success, you can admire the lotus in the pond and the plants by the window. Leaning on your desk or gazing out from the railing, you find elegant scenery stretching all around. The moon is like a heap of white jade, or a half-round disc; before you know it, the fifth watch has arrived. Beneath the lamplight comes news from a magpie bearing good tidings, as the sky has just cleared.

Presented to Lin Zhuang, to the tune “Huanxisha”

The world is full of disputes over right and wrong. Better to learn the Dao (the Way), cultivate the elixir, and stride into the deep mountains with a long whistle. The garden paths are gradually growing wild; who is left to tend them? Let chrysanthemums and pines keep you company. Close the ornate gates, make your home in seclusion, and live at ease beside the white clouds.

Presented to Zhang Guilong, to the tune “Xiangjian Huan”

Spring brings mild breezes and warm sunshine. In the second and third months, after the rain clears, a hundred flowers bloom in vivid red. The blossoms are like brocade, the willow fluff like cotton. Climb to the high tower and roll up the pearled curtain. In the host’s home, the pair of swallows that visited in years past have returned; let them freely carry mud to build their nest.

Presented to Guo Yongfang, to the tune “Yejinmen,” also titled “Xiqianying”

The clouds are thin and the rain hangs heavy in the air; in the second month, a hundred flowers bloom. Those who come and go each head their separate ways, like oxen and horses with different natures, who do not travel the same road. The mountains are emerald, the waters green, and the road ahead is long and winding, like a path narrow as a sheep’s intestine. Best to entrust your thoughts to a traveler; “five-five” is an omen of what lies ahead.

Presented to Zheng Ruxian, to the tune “Yingtian Chang”

Swallows and orioles dance in pairs, fortunate that the Spirit of Spring, Dongjun, continues to preside over the springtime. The rain has just stopped and the sky clears; scarcely has it cleared when the rain falls again. I smile and ask the peach blossoms, but though lovely and delicate, they make no reply. The sun sinks in the west and dusk clouds gather. Tired, the magpies and crows fly back to their nests. I would ask what lies ahead; the answer is reunion and fulfillment, like the full moon on the fifteenth day.

Presented to Guo Yili of Tianyi Temple, to the tune “Mountain Blossom”

I close the brushwood gate alone and pay no heed to worldly affairs. What in this world could be as carefree as a cloud? Do not say the cloud has no intention: it often drifts out from among the mountains. It knows, too, that in the end it must return. This is neither a tale of love nor of clouds and mist; it recalls the story of King Xiang of Chu dreaming of an encounter with the goddess of Mount Wu. Even splendid brocade robes cannot keep out the chill. To burn incense and pray with a single-minded heart: this is the state of mind of one who dwells on a renowned mountain.

When the mountain monk Derun of Taihe asked about the Green Dharma, to the tune “Frost Sky, Dawn Horn”

In the midst of emptiness, it is as though one flies while holding a monk’s staff. Chan Master Baizhang passed down the robe and bowl, the lineage of Chan. Listen quietly to the morning bell and evening drum, and the fires of vexation in the heart will die out. Incense smoke coils around the golden burner as one sits in stillness atop the high peak. I ask the disciples of Shakyamuni Buddha: what, after all, is the “dung hole”—that coarse Chan metaphor meant to jolt the listener awake?

Presented to the monk Shijing of Yueshan Temple, to the tune “Rouge Lips”

The teacher and disciple are bound by karmic ties in this life, inheriting the teachings of Chan Master Xinghua and hearing and receiving the Buddhist Dharma. The true principle has never been false. Even the Patriarch Linji traveled about seeking instruction; I, too, once studied under others. Now, hearing the bell, I rise to attend to my duties and lay down the tongs and hammer in my hands, symbols of holding and controlling things.

Also to the tune “Spring in the Jade Tower”

In the end, it all comes down to this practice: cultivating life amid the flower-and-herb beds. The words of old Master Yunmen (the eminent Chan monk Yunmen Wenyan) are astonishing, and just right for us to exchange questions and answers. This encounter is like a seamless pagoda, whole and without a joint; I, too, should receive Deshan’s blow and shout, which awaken students of Chan. From here to the Western Heaven, the Buddha’s western paradise, is more than ten thousand li. The journey must be made back and forth, over and over.

Repair the palace and plant the clothes; harmonize the complete method, and make your life amid the flower-and-herb beds. The words of old Master Yunmen are astonishing, and just right for us to exchange questions and answers. This encounter is like a seamless pagoda; I, too, should receive Deshan’s blow and shout. From here to the Western Heaven is more than ten thousand li; the journey must be made back and forth, over and over.

Mend the halls and plant the garments; harmonize the method until it is complete, and settle into daily life among the flower-and-herb beds. Repair the east wall and patch the west: as one task after another gets done, the work is bound to be uneven. With a resolute heart, even stone can be worn through; when everyone contributes, things can be accomplished. Embroider silk robes and sew silk skirts, exhausting a thousand needles and ten thousand threads. The more effort you put in, the greater the reward, and a name that shines will naturally follow.

Another song in the tune “Joyful Orioles’ Migration”

The eyes see no shadow, and the ears hear no sound, yet in a dark room spirits still keep watch. At dawn, no incense is needed; at night, no lamp or candle. In a small place within the heart, sincerity can still be kept. Clouds gather and roll, then spread and press down: such is the ceaseless change of worldly affairs. How many springs have old vines and ancient trees endured? Now they have blossomed anew.

Presented to Cai the Painter, in the tune “Silk-Washing Stream”

Cai the Painter’s skill is superb, and all the world praises him. I once specially inscribed verses for his “Spring in the Painted Hall”; who would have thought that its subtle beauty could convey the very spirit? The figures’ limbs and bearing are already complete, yet when painting their eyes, he leaves them untouched, preserving their natural truth. Was Gu Kaizhi (the Eastern Jin painter, courtesy name Chang Kang) really a fool?

Another song in the tune “Spring in the Painted Hall,” in the tune “Silk-Washing Stream”

Cai the Painter’s skill is superb, and all the world praises him. I once specially inscribed verses for his “Spring in the Painted Hall”; who would have thought that its subtle beauty could convey the very spirit? The figures’ limbs and bearing are already complete, yet when painting their eyes, he leaves them untouched, preserving their natural truth. Was Gu Kaizhi really a fool?

Another song in the tune “Spring in the Painted Hall”

The clear breeze and bright moon cost nothing; the spirit of the brush comes naturally. He casts off his robe and sits cross-legged. People call him a true immortal, and with good reason. He paints all manner of spirits and demons, setting thick ink against pale, with vivid colors. Everyone says his skill surpasses mine.

For a man from Changyi setting out for Hunan, in the tune “Ascending the Western Plain”

A fine young man embraces great ambitions, his spirit as lofty as that of a true gentleman. Riding a white horse, he happens upon his beloved beneath the shade of flowering trees. They share their innermost thoughts, then pour wine and drink together. With nowhere to dispel their longing, he can only straighten his lapels once more for his sweetheart. A melody lies in his heart, a handkerchief in his hand, a flute by his pillow, and a zither in his bag. Rising, he begins to sing “Yue Ling.” On the bed lies a brocade bearing words of love, urging his sweetheart to strive for honors as Su Qin did. May all turn out as wished: an official seal at the belt, and gold filling the purse.

“Bodhisattva’s Beads” in the Tongcheng tune, presented to Heavenly King Guo of the Eastern Hall

Tongcheng has its own Lu tree, a place for those who wear robes, carry alms bowls, and cultivate the Way. A sudden awakening brings one to ask about the road ahead: the path before you is smooth and open. Do not shrink from the long journey; you should make a vow to cultivate the Bodhi Way. In the end, good things will come to completion, and a perfected person—the one who has attained the Way—will bless you and make your realization manifest.

“Returning from Afar,” in the tune encouraging Cai the painter

Have you not seen someone at a place of cultivation, wearing the three robes and carrying an alms bowl? Wake up in time and ask about the road ahead; the path before you is smooth and open. Do not shrink from the long journey; you should make a vow to cultivate the Bodhi Way. In the end, good things will come to completion, and a perfected person will bless you and make your realization manifest.

“Moon over the West River,” in the tune for Lin Junju’s inquiry

Do not speak only of the lay Buddhist of Xiangcheng; speak also of a gifted immortal like Jia Dao. If you seek honors through writing, there are always paths and patrons to help you advance; in the end, it all comes down to fame and honors. Blessings are as easy to gather as tiny things picked up from the ground, and your descendants will inherit them. Have you heard the story of the Wang family’s three locust trees? The third son indeed passed all three levels of the examinations, and his name still seems to shine before us through the ages.

“Moon over the West River,” presented to the dragon-boat builder

Since you know how to steer a dragon boat, dare to display your skill in the art of bowing and saluting. On a moonlit Mid-Autumn night, it is as if you have come to the River of Heaven, with people on the ground looking up to see you. Make a name that will endure for a thousand years, and let all praise the outstanding figures of this age. I give you the championship banner as a reward; it is worth more than repaying you with a pig’s trotter and a cup of wine.

A poem in praise of romance

In the third month, fragrance drifts among silken garments, and the heart, too, sways with the spring light. A young man’s feelings can scarcely be restrained, and so they come to light; his name spreads with them, as all praise the outstanding figures of this age. I give you the championship banner as a reward; it is worth more than repaying you with a pig’s trotter and a cup of wine.

In the third month of spring, fragrant breezes stir and fine clothes drift with perfume. The heart, too, sways with the season, and it is hard to keep youthful feelings from rising. What harm is there in giving them full expression? Let the rhythm guide the voice and keep the song in tune; do not let this lovely spring pass in vain. Wherever the eye falls, there are people of charm and distinction, and the flower market is especially lively. Since we have already climbed high to admire the blossoms, there is no need to invite people to the gate as well.

Presented to the Magistrate of Min County

The imperial envoy, a distinguished figure whose name is listed among the stars, and the governor of the Seven Min region, famed for his writing, both possess great talent. His achievements in office are like the work of Nature itself: he can clearly discern right from wrong and judge good and evil. In years past, when he served in Jianzhou and Shaowu, the local elders cherished him and tried to keep him from leaving. True to his reputation, he governed with a purity as clear as water, leaving behind benevolent works that sheltered the people like the shade of a sweetgum tree. I have also heard of his accomplishments in Nan’an: the people there sing his praises, and his good name has traveled far.

Now flowers bloom throughout the county. Lord Pan treasures this springtime scene; perhaps he can set aside his busy affairs for a while. Let us, too, enjoy ourselves to the full and wander through the bustling streets. I hear the scenery around the post pavilion is lovely, with its moonlit views and breezes. I would very much like to see whether its brocade-like embankments truly stretch on for a thousand spans, and whether its fame has reached the capital.

Tune: “Mountain Blossoms,” on the occasion of Taiyu of Tailin asking about affairs

What comes after death, and what lies ahead in life, are both impossible to know. Why not shave your head, leave the household life, and practice the Buddha’s teachings? But where, exactly, is the Buddha? Go to Mount Tiantai and seek him there. Yet the time has not come to form a connection with Dashaoling. Why keep wiping dust from the mirror stand? Better to climb to a high mountain peak, sit there in peace, and make that your life.

Presented to Five Colleagues

I hear that snow fell last night in the riverside village; today I see the plum blossoms, white all over. The southern branches bring news that spring is on its way, and snow and blossoms seem to unfurl together along the steps, a scene that lifts the heart. As we break off plum branches and admire the snow, for a moment there is nothing to say. The plum blossoms and snow are like a painting, with moonlight falling on the towers as well. The plum, snow, and moon blend into a scene whose meaning is hard to express, so we raise our cups and drink two or three rounds.

The Collected Writings of Immortal Xu, Volume Nine

Petition to the Perfected Lord Qixuan Buzhi

The Heavenly Court seemed within arm’s reach, yet I lacked the loyal courage to speak frankly in remonstrance as though breaking the palace gate’s railings. My revered master is discerning and upright; how would I dare presume to request an audience? I am ill at ease and at a loss, my heart stirred and unable to settle for a long time. I, your servant, respectfully offer thanks before the sacred seat of the Celestial Master, the Primordial Master. The Celestial Master, the Primordial Master, received the teaching of the Primordial Dao Venerable and, from generation to generation, has proclaimed the model of pledging an oath and cultivating the Dao. This teaching has long been passed down to later students who have yet to enter the gate.

I consider that I, your servant, have been appointed to office and charged with presiding over the liturgy. Having already pledged my heart, sworn an oath, and carefully observed the precepts, how would I dare make plans on my own and act alone? In all matters, I must first submit a report and then proceed according to the rules. Established procedures already exist, so I should respectfully heed the commands of those above me and never violate the statutes. Each rank and duty must be clearly distinguished; no one should harbor divided intentions, and all must remain in their proper positions. On an auspicious day, a Zhaijiao purification ritual will be held at Juangu, offering thanks to the vast heavenly realm and expressing, on behalf of the Perfected One of Lingji, a few words of gratitude. I fear that the ritual assembly on the same altar has not followed the subtle instructions or united in practicing the Dao, and so I dare not repeat my plea. Punishments are set out in the regulations, and I am deeply afraid of violating the severe precepts.

Petition of Thanks from the Perfected Lord Xuanbiao for Appointment to Office

I am sincerely fearful and apprehensive; I bow my head and prostrate myself twice. I respectfully look up to the sacred seat of the Great Marshal and Great Ritual Master. Your merit takes part in the transformation and nurturing of all things, and the Dao you follow reaches into the mysterious depths. The broad waters of rivers and marshes all flow into the sea; wherever the sun and moon shine, who would dare turn their back on the light and cover themselves with a basin? I look up to Heaven’s kindness and wish to repay it, but I cannot attain perfect sincerity; I can only devote all my strength. I fear that my offenses are as great as a mountain, while my merits are as small as dust. Fortunately, you have listened to my petition and graciously accepted it, without rejecting my words.

I, your servant, have not yet penetrated the Dao of the Cavern of Truth (Dongzhen), and in my old age I am no longer capable. Believing that the person I recommended was suitable, I rashly advanced him and placed him among the ranks of the immortals. How would I dare covet the credit or usurp the office? Now Xu and the others have received the gracious favor of promotion in rank and have been granted imperial appointments. We, your servants, have received Heaven’s kindness; each of us feels gratitude for the virtue that nurtures and brings us to completion. We dance with joy, all expressing reverence and celebration. I presume once again to submit this petition, deeply afraid that doing so may bring me guilt.

Petition of Thanks for Appointment to Office from the Perfected Lord of Gratitude

I believe that, according to ritual practice, disasters should be met with solemn sacrifices to protect the people. Those who render meritorious service and accumulate good deeds should also be rewarded with a place in the ranks of the immortal realm. Though the state of the divine cannot be fathomed, I must still present my petition. I am sincerely apprehensive and prostrate myself twice.

I have respectfully heard that the Yellow Emperor Xuanyuan once sought instruction from Guangchengzi, eager to explore the subtleties of the Great Dao; and that Yin Xi, the official who guarded Hangu Pass, served the Venerable Lord Li (Laozi), hoping to investigate the most profound principles of the mysterious Dao. The Great Dao is vast and elusive, impossible to point out; boundless in scope, it defies a name. It has no limit because it is vast, and leaves nothing out because it is minute. It is generous and unadorned, broad as a valley, contains all things, and moves in accord with the times. This is the key to transcending the ordinary and entering sagehood, and it also encompasses the practice of guarding the center and embracing the One: keeping the heart centered and focused.

The Yuan Yang Jade Almanac should be entrusted to a worthy person for transmission; the treasured chapters of the Most High, meanwhile, embody the Qi of nature. When people recite them, they may prolong their lives; when spirits and ghosts hear them, they too may ascend to immortality. Each person has their own fated affinities, and the merit contained in these texts is beyond measure.

Though I look up to the Great Dao, my abilities fall short of those of others, and I have not understood the method of refining lead and mercury together in Golden Elixir practice. Yet I have rashly taken on the duty of drafting a sealed memorial and presenting it to the throne. I also reflect that those who presided over the ritual offerings received the protection of the divine, bringing peace to the region and building shrines in their honor to make manifest their efficacious virtue in aiding the world. The divine are wise and benevolent by nature; they bring the seasons into harmony and ensure favorable weather, fulfilling the auspicious signs of the divination. Their deeds benefit the state, and their kindness reaches the people. People still remember the great merits recorded on stone tablets, and at the sacrifices they present millet and other grains as tokens of respect.

Whenever prayers are offered on the Three Yuan festivals—the Upper, Middle, and Lower Yuan—people bathe and fast the day before. I have received the protection of the Celestial Master and the favor bestowed by imperial decree. The divine have been honored with laudatory titles, and their fame has flourished. Such an event has been rare since ancient times, yet here it is now held in the highest esteem.

This is because the Jade Emperor, the August Sovereign of Heaven, stands supreme, governs Heaven and Earth, and shines upon all things. He has always sheltered living beings with his benevolence. I am ashamed to be no more than a lowly and foolish servant in the mortal world. Gazing reverently toward the august presence of the Emperor of Heaven, I believe that only the capable are fit to bear responsibility. How could I dare occupy a post without serving? Nor would I dare stir up trouble or seize an opportunity to claim credit. I know that I have already asked for much and received many favors. My heart remains filled with gratitude and attachment, while I am ever mindful of the care required when treading on thin ice.

May the palace sacrifices flourish for ages, and may their abundant virtue endure for thousands of generations. May blessings descend and bring good fortune to all the people under Heaven. Gazing up to the Emperor of Heaven, I am overcome with emotion and apprehension, and respectfully submit this memorial in gratitude.

I humbly received the decree issued on the first day of the third month, granting me the title “Perfected One of Numina, Broad Salvation, Attainment of De, and Illustrious Dao of the Golden Palace of the Nine Heavens,” and appointing me to oversee the Shangqing Bureau of Celestial Records and carry out its duties. I look up to the heavenly court and respectfully accept the Emperor’s command. My new name has been entered on the Cinnabar Terrace, the register of immortals, and from this day I join their ranks. Such favor is so profound that I am at once grateful and fearful. I bow my head and prostrate myself twice.

With reverence, I say: within the exalted Jade Clarity Palace, all is ease and joy; beyond it, the realm of Mystery and Truth—the wondrous immortal land described in Daoist teaching—shines with brilliant light. The sun and moon cast layer upon layer of halos, while mist and rosy clouds gather into five-colored auspicious signs. The myriad spirits come to pay court, and the Three Realms descend together. Dragons stand to the left and tigers to the right, their honor guard solemn and imposing; phoenixes lead the way and luan birds follow, their calls answering one another. Such is the splendor of heaven, a sight that a mere subject like me should never have been allowed to witness.

Spirits undergo transformations through life and death and pass through countless kalpas. If they awaken, they should practice purification and follow the Dao, hoping thereby to enter the sacred realm and cultivate themselves into Perfected Ones. Looking back on myself, I once lived amid the dust of the world, confused and distracted by ceaseless busyness. At sacrifices I slaughtered animals and made offerings, concerned only with satisfying my appetite. The offerings had no true fragrance, yet I accepted my stipend without qualm, like an inert thing clinging to grass and trees. I had achieved no notable merit and brought nothing to light, yet unexpectedly received a reward that far surpassed my station. The decree came down from Purple Tenuity, the residence of the Heavenly Emperor; the command was issued in person from the imperial throne. Its radiance shone upon the Seven Stars and spread across nine thousand li.

The position I have received places me among the celestial constellations, within a company of one hundred and eighteen. I oversee the fortunes and destinies governed by the Three Platforms, the celestial star offices, and assist Wenchang, the star deity who presides over literary achievement, in administering the Six Bureaus. When De accumulates, the worthy are able to gather; beneath the shelter of the Northern Dipper, the harvest becomes abundant. The Old Man Star appears in the central southern sky, corresponding below to the celestial sign of the Tai Jie. All these things come from the power of the Heavenly Emperor; they are no merit of mine.

All of this is due to the grace of the August Jade Emperor of the Vast Heavens, the Heavenly Lord revered in Daoism. The Emperor nurtures all things through great De and dwells high above. Though he has no sound or scent, his presence truly takes form. He once set his ceremonial guard in motion and proclaimed a great vow to deliver people and aid the world. He also holds the talismanic commands, governs the cycles of the calendar, and established the foundation of embodying the Dao. Cinnabar writings revealed the essence of gentle governance; green characters presented the auspicious omen of the Rong River. Thunder carried his commands, and the celestial patterns, like the Milky Way, formed their script. The Emperor majestically looks down upon the world below and has entrusted me with an appointment that honors literary virtue.

I have been permitted to wear a sword and boots as I ascend the hall, and have received the courtesies due to a gentleman. As the lords symbolized by the fish designs on ceremonial robes come to pay court, so must I follow their example and offer a jade disk in gratitude. Having received such profound favor, I shall henceforth apply myself diligently to my duties. I look up to the heavenly court and revere the Holy Sovereign, overwhelmed with gratitude and awe. I respectfully submit this memorial to express my thanks.

I, your servant, respectfully receive the imperial decree of the first day of the third month, appointing me the True Person of Illustrious Efficacy and Broad Aid, Celestial Immortal Who Proclaims Transformation and Supports the Teaching at the Jade Palace of the Nine Heavens. I am placed in charge of the various courts of the Underworld and may act as circumstances require.

I reflect that the Jade Palace, the august residence of the Celestial Emperor, is solemn and majestic, and that I am now able to approach and pay my respects there. I have also received praise in a golden decree and been honored with an office in the Underworld. I am overwhelmed by this favor and cannot sit or stand at ease. I respectfully state my wishes: may this benevolence extend across countless miles, and may all lands within the Four Seas receive its instruction. May the twenty-eight lunar mansions correspond to the nine provinces, and may all beings in the three thousand worlds dwell beneath the light of the sun, moon, and stars. Whether among mountains, rivers, and forests, in high or low places, near or far, may all people live in peace and happiness.

May I be able to open the brocade-cloud pouch of Ziyang and enter the Jade Chamber and Cinnabar Terrace to study and cultivate. The Most High has never lightly imparted the Dao’s teachings. I, a lowly servant, am fortunate to have been allowed to hear them; therefore, day and night I must remain vigilant and revere the spirits with my whole being. I know I am no sage and can only follow the ways of ordinary people. Though I wish to devote myself to fasting and serving the Celestial Emperor, I cannot escape the reproach that I am greedy for food and incapable. I am like a barren field of stone, still bound to the mundane world, yet I have mistakenly received the honor of appointment by imperial decree, with the special charge of governing the state and its people.

I will encourage good and punish evil, imposing penalties according to offenses and granting rewards according to merit. The names of the virtuous will be entered in the registers of the Southern Palace; the souls of the guilty will be confined in the Northern Court. I will also oversee the registers of immortals at the three island mountains and direct the offices of the True Spirits of the Five Sacred Peaks and the four quarters. This office carries a grave responsibility. I am reverent and apprehensive, unsure how I can fulfill it. Even a flying squirrel knows its own limits; I, a humble person, dare not betray the favor of this commission.

All this is thanks to the sacred grace of the August Celestial Jade Emperor. Every thing has its own form, and all are governed by the Celestial Emperor. The authority over the changes of Yin and Yang, over spring’s birth and autumn’s harvest, rests in the Emperor’s hands. The Emperor rides forth on celestial circuits, with the stars surrounding and attending him. The Mysterious Capital lies deep and remote, adorned with the Seven Treasures. Auspicious music resounds in the heavens, and people lift their voices in praise of the Jade Emperor’s benevolence. I have repeatedly received imperial commands and been appointed far beyond what is ordinary. I am deeply ashamed and cannot understand what merit of mine has earned such promotion.

I will purify myself and cultivate virtue, devoting myself wholeheartedly, like one who gathers duckweed and algae as offerings to express sincerity. I will also pray for abundant harvests, that millet, broomcorn millet, rice, and sorghum may all be plentiful. In this way, I will meet the wishes of the people below and answer the Celestial Emperor’s intentions above. Your servant is deeply grateful and overcome with reverence and apprehension. I respectfully submit this memorial to offer thanks and make my report, bowing as I state my words.

I humbly submit that my virtue and conduct are meager. I have lived in seclusion in southern Min and long enjoyed Heaven’s protection. Now I look up in gratitude to the court’s kindness and once more behold the Son of Heaven’s gracious light. The decree of investiture has arrived. Ashamed and uneasy, I reflect on my own shortcomings, tremble with fear, and bow my head twice.

I have heard that the spirit of Cishan once manifested at Hexu and was therefore bestowed the title of Great Emperor. He also descended with his divine brush at Min and Emei, and was lavishly praised by the Primordial Emperor. Yinglie attained the Way through filial devotion and sincerity; Ciji accomplished great deeds by aiding the people. Without vowing to save all beings, how could one transcend the ordinary and enter the realm of the sacred? These events are real indeed. How could they have happened by chance?

Looking back on what I have done, I see only that the Great Dao is supremely worthy of reverence. Ever since Heaven and Earth divided from the Taiji, there have been people, and there have been states and their altars of soil and grain. When the long cycle of kalpas finally comes to an end, who will preside over and govern all this?

All this is due to the protection of the Perfected Lord Zhengyi Chongying Shenhua Jingying Xianyou, a revered Daoist deity. The Perfected Lord’s heart is pure and responsive, and is attuned to the profound and subtle Dao of emptiness; his transformations are wondrous. In Wuwei, he is silent and still; when manifesting his numinous power to protect, he seems to be everywhere. He is devoted to assisting the state and bringing peace to the people, and seeks to transmit liturgies and establish the teachings. His titles are recorded in the celestial registers in purple characters and golden script; the scriptures and documents, inscribed in phoenix script, are stored in jade caskets within a lang case. His methods of the Dao descend from before Heaven, while his learning is handed down to later generations. The hundred spirits guard him, and the myriad things honor him. The Fifteenth Governance of the Great Mystery, one of the Daoist administrative centers, oversees the world, with Guigu under its jurisdiction; the First Governance of Yangping corresponds above to the Horn constellation in Heaven. The Perfected Lord’s efficacy has been known from ancient times to the present, and his deeds are recorded in the histories. They are beyond a subject’s presumptuous judgment; thus the master’s position is held in such high esteem.

When I consider myself, I know my abilities are ordinary and that I can only act through the help of others. I devote myself wholly to serving the divine. I am lowly as rotting grass and have achieved nothing, like decayed wood. Lord Liu once treated the matter of an inscription with great care, while my posthumous title appears only in the History of Jin. I know nothing of medicinal substances; how could I distinguish mafu from niusou? I have not mastered the art of the furnace and vessel; how could I understand the alchemical terms “dragon lead” and “tiger mercury”? Though I wish to save and aid living beings, I lack the ability to govern worldly affairs. I once studied with Yan Junping how to divine good and ill fortune, and can only urge people to be loyal, filial, humane, and righteous, following the teachings of Confucius. As for words of admonition, I can only remind myself to refrain from the strange and violent, and from speaking of ghosts and spirits. I do not know what else I might emulate, and am always afraid that there is no escape from the offense of acting presumptuously.

How could I have imagined that I would suddenly receive Heaven’s gracious favor, be granted rank and office, and be admitted to the ranks of the immortals? To receive such favor truly fills me with alarm. Now I am like one adrift on a sea where giant whales roam, my soul shaken; I am also like a mountain borne aloft on the back of a great turtle, deeply conscious of the weight of this beneficence. Once I take up my post, I will surely act with the same care as at the beginning and proclaim the liturgies of repentance and observance of precepts. I know that my conduct has been reckless and mistaken, and that I do not understand the intent of the scriptures. I only hope to receive guidance and instruction. All this comes from the transmission of my master’s lineage. How could I claim it as my own accomplishment?

I will respectfully uphold the sacred teachings and spread the spirit of benevolence. Above, I will pray for the longevity of the sovereign, following the example of the people of Mount Song, who cried out in blessing three times. Below, I will wish that the people enjoy the Five Blessings described in the Great Plan. The transmission of talismans and registers and the methods of conferral have been handed down for a long time; I only hope that my descendants will continue them, generation after generation without end. Even if I cannot express my reverence through the rites of pepper and orchid, I still aspire to unite the Dao with my heart and bring my heart into communion with the Dao. Even dogs and horses know how to remain devoted to their masters. How could one as insignificant as I fail to express my gratitude with all my heart?

I await your gracious favor with longing and am filled with the utmost trepidation. I respectfully instruct your subject, so-and-so, to copy this memorial, state my thanks, and submit it for your review.

I have heard that the Dao is vast in its scope and renowned for its brilliance: it begins in emptiness, stillness, serenity, and calm, and ultimately reaches Wuwei (non-action). In my heart I am grateful for this grace and feel the utmost reverence and awe. I therefore respectfully dispatch this memorial, written by your servant, to express my thanks and submit it for Your Majesty’s consideration.

I have heard that the Dao is vast in its substance and illustrious in its renown, proceeding from purity, stillness, and detachment until it reaches Wuwei (non-action). When spirits attain the Dao, they can manifest their numinous power; those who understand the principles of advancing, withdrawing, survival, and extinction will not stray from the right path. Once an action begins, everything falls into its proper place. Who makes it so? Perhaps blessings cultivated in former lives enable one to seize the right moment and grasp the Great Dao.

I respectfully submit this memorial to express my gratitude for the favor received. The Perfected One of the Nine Heavens, Numinous Aid—a Daoist honorific—is upright in character and spiritually perceptive. He has not only planned the establishment of a fief and its ancestral altar, but also vowed to act on Heaven’s behalf and transform the world. In performing purification rites and observing precepts, his resolve has been as firm as metal and stone. His work to aid all beings and deliver people from suffering has been especially remarkable. His accomplishments are outstanding, and his writings are worthy of being passed down. Now, favored by Heaven, he has been promoted into the ranks of the immortals and entered into the registers of the Great Cavern. He should therefore be issued a certificate of appointment. Who could say that his investiture now is right while his investiture in the past was wrong?

It is heartening that his first appointment revealed an air of purity and solemnity, while his second placed him in command of the vital hub. The decree has already been circulated, and all look toward the Perfected One’s journey westward, respectfully following his command. The local elders marvel at this, saying that it is seldom seen in the south. I ought to offer my thanks with due solemnity; how could I treat this as mere routine paperwork? I understand the earnest concern expressed in the instructions and respectfully look up to my revered master, kneeling to pay my respects.

I, your servant, reflect that my learning and abilities are meager, yet I have been entrusted with a heavy responsibility: presiding over the liturgy of the Mystery Gate. Old and no longer capable, I feel deeply ashamed. I lean on a staff as I walk, my weakness and slowness already apparent. I have carefully composed this memorial, yet still fear that its wording may prove inadequate once it is read, failing to convey the fullness of my sincerity. I can only rely on my revered master’s benevolence and humbly await his grace.

On this auspicious occasion, the Great Dharma Master of the Three Heavens, a Daoist honorific, widely spreads the teaching and delivers all beings. He is the teacher of all ages and the father and mother of all living things. He distinguishes humans from spirits and separates the realms of the living and the dead. Since a suitable candidate has been chosen in accordance with the views of the people, the appointed official must not draw a salary without earning it or occupy office in vain. Appointments should be made with due care, and the decision should also be confirmed through tortoise divination and milfoil divination. The views of high ministers and officials should be heard, as should those of the people. Decisions must not arise from private interest; only the capable should be appointed. Ministers and common people alike may take part in the deliberation. Whoever is found guilty thereby offends Heaven’s majesty. My words are light as a swan’s feather; I respectfully submit this memorial.

The memorial states: The farmers in the villages under my jurisdiction, including Chen, have jointly reported that they labor hard throughout the year, and that the people depend on their crops for food. To their dismay, just as the seedlings in the fields were growing lushly, they were attacked by lice and pests. The farming households are deeply anxious. Ritual propriety calls for measures to avert the calamity and make amends; we cannot let resentment accumulate. Therefore, I dare not withhold this report from my superiors. I am sincerely fearful and humbled, and bow twice.

I have heard that last winter, snow fell to the ground in the south; early this spring, timely and beneficial rain also came. These are auspicious signs of a good year, as farmers in the fields have remarked. Everyone says they herald a bountiful harvest, and there is evidence to support this. The farmers have labored hard, and the seedlings in the fields have flourished. They had hoped for an abundant autumn harvest and prayed for the grain to ripen. Who could have known that the seedlings would now suffer pest damage? Their hearts are as if scorched by fire and submerged in water. Who would not worry and seek relief? If we do not report this to Heaven, I fear the calamity may grow worse than it is now.

Perhaps the people have lost their livelihood because I have failed to accumulate hidden virtue while guarding this region. I cannot help but blame myself; I am fearful and unsettled, and have not yet had time to repent and make amends. I respectfully beseech the Jade Emperor, the August Sovereign of Heaven, the supreme deity revered by Daoism, to care for the people and regard them as his own children. Even if a single kind of grain fails, it brings cause for concern; if even one person goes without enough to eat or wear, I feel it is my own fault. The people are truly to be pitied, yet they have nowhere to plead their case. They can only cry out in grief, not knowing how to seek blessings and good fortune.

I reflect that I am merely an insignificant person on earth, hardly worthy to speak. The lice in the fields have not yet been eliminated; what more could I ask for? Yet I firmly believe that the Emperor’s anger can be calmed and Heaven’s heart moved. I have cast the pests into the fire and taken the first steps to eradicate them. I also know that we must guard against calamity at its faintest signs. I humbly pray that Heaven dispel disaster and grant pardon, extending its grace to the people, so that their sorrowful sighs may become joyful songs and calamity be transformed into good fortune.

May the stalks grow sturdy and the grains plump, with full ears promising an abundant harvest. When the seasons come for harvesting, drying, winnowing, and pounding the grain, may all the people receive Heaven’s bounty through their food and enjoy a full meal. I look up to Heaven’s grace with earnest and anxious devotion, and bow twice in reverence.

I have burned and disposed of the lice and pests, and have faithfully followed the methods of the Alliance with Majesty, a ritual method associated with Daoist purification rites and oaths. I, Lü, have respectfully recorded this memorial, setting out my petition and submitting it to the Celestial Court. I am sincerely fearful and humbled, and bow twice.

With due reverence, a father is the one on whom his children depend for their life and support: he is both honored and worthy of respect, yet also solemn and awe-inspiring. The Great King’s divine power is efficacious, ever present and reaching everywhere, like the growth of plants and trees. Even after a thousand years, his sacred might still shines forth. All people sincerely turn to him in reverence and praise his beneficence.

With reverence, we offer our felicitations to His Highness, the Sacred Father, the Qi King, the Perfected One of Martial Loyalty. You have served the state with loyalty and achieved distinction through military prowess. You were granted lands and households, and have continually received the court’s noble favor and honors. When you received the emperor’s decree of investiture, you also opened the documents kept in the Golden Coffer. Your renown has shaken the Huai and Yangzi rivers, and your blessings have descended upon Wei Commandery.

Yesterday we presented an ode of pepper blossoms to celebrate the Sacred Father’s birthday, and purple qi filled the courtyard. Today we have received the auspicious sign of the peng arrow, and red light has illuminated the rooms. We are fortunate to dwell in a place under the Sacred Father’s protection, yet have not fully received the abundance of your beneficence. We look toward the Northern Gate, where the court resides, and express our reverence; we point from afar to the Southern Mountain and pray for the Sacred Father’s long life. May the whole family gather in joy, sharing laughter and conversation, with everyone cherishing affection and harmony. May peace prevail throughout the realm in all four directions, and may every place enjoy the protection of the divine. We respectfully submit this congratulatory memorial.

“An ode of pepper blossoms” refers to a poem of birthday congratulations. The peng arrow was an ancient ceremonial symbol used to celebrate a birth and pray for good fortune.

The first lunar month is a time when all things begin to flourish in harmony, and auspicious signs come to pass at dawn the following day. The spirits of the Nine Heavens celebrate together, joyfully praising the Life-Giving Spirit, who governs life and childbirth. Auspicious Qi rises like clouds, while the sounds of celebration resound like thunder. I, your humble servant, filled with reverence, bow my head twice and respectfully offer congratulations to Your Highness, the Holy Father, the Perfected One Qi Wang Zhongwu.

With reverence, I say: Your Highness is upright in character and accomplished in both letters and arms. In the past, I heard of your renown in Jiangzuo, the region along the lower Yangtze; now your miraculous signs shine forth in Minzhong, the region of Fujian, and your fame surpasses that of all lands. Your radiance is like the sun and moon shining together; the incense offerings made in your honor will continue for a thousand years, enduring as long as Heaven and Earth. I respectfully bow low and present a cup of wine as a sign of my esteem. Following the customs of the countryside, I also hold a village feast, where people gather to drink and observe the courtesies due to age and rank. At the feast, high and low, young and old, all behave with respect and propriety and live together in harmony. May everyone attain long life, abundance, ease, and peace, and may each have their wishes fulfilled.

I respectfully submit this memorial to convey my congratulations and ask that it be received. I, your humble servant, am filled with joy and bow my head twice. My heart is sincerely moved with gratitude, and I respectfully set these words before you.

This is a memorial composed by the Southern Palace on behalf of a man seeking protection and peace.

I have heard that the Great Dao acts through Wuwei (non-action, following nature without contrived effort), and that its mysteries are boundless. Who can fully fathom them? Those who are able to cultivate themselves and receive salvation may perhaps endure from life to life. These truths are not heard by ordinary people; the virtuous often encounter them through the blessings they have cultivated. I met someone who lived simply and humbly, with an upright and gentle disposition. When misfortune came and calamity struck, they prayed sincerely, and indeed recovered from illness and regained their health.

I have reached the age of attentive hearing—sixty—and my birthday has arrived. I feel keenly that my hair has thinned and my face grown old, and that I am no longer as I once was. Though old and frail, with little left that I can do, I am fortunate that the deities who embody the luminous Dao respond to sincere appeals. The scriptures open the sacred Jade Bureau, where ritual services are performed; their chapters are all devoted to dispelling calamity. The teachings expound the Millet Pearl, a metaphor for the subtle mysteries of the Dao, and are nothing other than texts for saving and guiding people. Such merits can serve as a bridge to lead people across hardship. Though I am unworthy to belong to the Daoist community and presume to preside over Keyi (liturgy), how much can I truly contribute to the fulfillment of the Great Dao? Even so, I venture once more to state my heartfelt wish.

With reverence, I look up to the Supreme Emperor of the Southern Palace, a revered deity of the southern heavens. May his compassion be vast and his merit profound and worthy. He governs the Nine Yangs, the Daoist ordering of Yang energy and the celestial realms, and through Brahma Qi gives form to the sacred mysteries of the Three Caverns, the three great divisions of Daoist scriptures. Through literary teaching he awakens all living beings and nurtures the myriad things. Since he has granted beings their bodies and features, may he also protect their lives, cherish their primordial spirits, nourish their spiritual roots, and let their branches and leaves flourish. May the mysterious fluid gather, its source grow deep and its flow endure far. May emotions of joy and anger not disturb their nature, and questions of right and wrong, gain and loss not confuse their hearts. May they ascend to the highest heavens, be freed from evil hindrances, and have their names inscribed in the Vermilion Registers and their identities recorded in the Azure Books—the registers of the immortals.

May they receive the grace of the Great One above and fulfill the hopes of the people below. I humbly pray that divine power will turn white hair black and impart the method of agelessness; that the breath will return and purple Qi will embrace yellow, a symbol in internal cultivation of Yin-Yang harmony, so that the secret of longevity may be attained within. May the whole family enjoy health and prosperity, and may future generations flourish.

This is another liturgical text, written on behalf of a woman who undertakes cultivation in advance and prays for blessings.

It is said that when the departed hear the good news, they can ascend to the Western Immortal Realm. This teaching appears in the Scripture of Lord Lao Li. Through an oath taken and teachings received in accordance with Daoist liturgy, the Yellow Emperor once sought instruction from Guangchengzi on the Scripture of the Hidden Talisman and accepted and practiced its teachings. If fate had not bound me to this path in a former life, how could I have the features of one destined to become an immortal? I am filled with trepidation and bow twice.

I reflect that I am now over eighty. Though aged and frail, I can still take on an official duty. Of the art of composing memorials adorned with dragons and phoenixes, I have learned only a little. I know my own dullness, yet believe that repeated reflection can still yield insight. Once a duty is accepted, Daoist teachings must be upheld with rigor; before demanding discipline of others, one must first demand it of oneself. Talent must be assessed through careful examination: reward those who merit it and punish those who are guilty. Teach others their work with care, cultivate De (Virtue) in earnest, and speak with caution.

I respectfully look up to the Perfected Lord of Zhengyi, Still Response, Manifest Aid, a revered Daoist deity. His lineage of teachings descends from Zhengyi, and his understanding reaches the depths of the mystery. He is the teacher and ruler of all ages, and the parent of all living beings. He established liturgies and founded the teachings. As the Great Master of the Celestial Metropolis, he guides the lost and delivers all beings; he rescues departed souls from suffering and gives rise to a vow of compassion. I fear that the departed souls recommended for deliverance have spent their lives adrift in turmoil, and may have committed offenses, whether intentionally or through negligence. Dwelling in the long night, they cannot grasp the mystery of the transformations between life and death. Now, by means of accumulated merit and virtue, I set forth a bridge for them to cross.

May the Great Dao be made manifest and the world’s demonic influences dispersed. May the sky be unobstructed, and the souls and spirits clear and upright. May the gate of death be sealed and the gate of return to life opened. May all departed souls in the netherworld receive this wondrous grace.

Memorial for Refining and Delivering the Departed (a memorial for refining the bodies and spirits of the departed to aid their deliverance).

We reverently honor the wondrous teachings of the Scripture for Deliverance, proclaimed in the Beginning Blue Heaven—the celestial realm of Daoist teaching. After the Primordial Emperor’s kalpa, people made vows to receive and uphold the Chapter on the Generation of Spirits. Only when the Great Cycle approached did the wondrous scripture appear.

I, your servant, am filled with apprehension. My mind and spirit are still burdened by external things, and my body and mind have yet to penetrate the true Dao. I have not heard and practiced even one cycle of the tortoise-breathing method—a practice of stillness and regulated breathing likened to a tortoise’s breath. I am deeply ashamed to be white-haired and frail. Now that I have received these words of the teaching, my heart is sincere and devout, and I will do my utmost to put them into practice.

I fear that the departed souls for whom I seek deliverance still languish in the world of dust, bound by emotion and burdened by karma. I am therefore afraid that my prayers and practice may be flawed, and that my words, thoughts, and actions may fall into error. If the departed are to return to their origin, yet do not understand the mysteries of Jing, Qi, and Shen, then if they are simply left to decline into death, who will know the way of life without end?

With reverence, I pray to the Great Emperor of the Nine Heavens Who Generates the Spirits, a Daoist deity who governs the generation of spirits and the deliverance of beings. Your Dao runs through the Three Realms of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity, and your power of transformation flows throughout the sun and moon. In the East, you bear the honored title of Great Compassion and Mercy; in Nanchang, you have distinct offices for receiving deliverance and undergoing refinement. Yin is the Po, the bodily soul; Yang is the Hun, the ethereal soul. Both must be tempered and refined through Yin-Yang. Fire belongs to the heart, and Water to the kidneys. Without Water and Fire joining in harmony, how can anything be nurtured and brought to life?

May the Great Dao be all-embracing, and its true light shine everywhere, so that foulness and impurity disperse completely and leave no trace. May even withered and decaying bodies, upon hearing the teaching, revive with new vitality. May the departed ascend with their bones and flesh, and attain perfection in both form and spirit. May inner thoughts no longer race outward, and outer thoughts no longer intrude upon the heart; may the roots of distress be removed forever. When basket Qi is established and compliant Qi arises, another body of emptiness and clarity can be realized. May the many suffering departed receive the Great Dao’s boundless grace.

The Scripture on Deliverance is an important Daoist classic. According to legend, reciting it ten times can bring dry bones back to life. The Catalog of the Chapters on Generating Spirits is divided into nine further chapters and is used to deliver the souls of the dead from the netherworld. The Most High, a revered deity in Daoism, received these scriptures and, following them, established precepts and teachings. Later students, too, rely on them to rescue those in suffering and deliver the souls of the dead.

With reverence, I say that the rank of the perfected sages accords with the Seven Periods and connects with the Three Numinous Powers, as Daoism calls them. They fathom the workings of Heaven and Earth at their source: Yin follows even numbers, and Yang follows odd numbers. Through inner cultivation, they understand the practice of Li and Kan, symbols of Fire and Water that also describe internal refinement. Water flows downward; Fire rises toward dryness. The perfected sages serve as a bridge for beings mired in suffering and shine upon bewildered people like the sun and moon. Their vows reach far, and their merit is immeasurable.

I reflect that I am old and worn, with scant learning. I do not know the nine revolutions and nine completions of the formulas for Tiger Mercury and Dragon Lead, symbolic substances in internal alchemy. Nor do I know the secrets of a single inhalation and exhalation in Bear Walking and Turtle Breathing, methods of guided movement and breath regulation. Earlier, I received a petition submitted in prayer and was assigned to conduct the rites. Now I see once more how devotedly the filial child grieves, and so I can only do my utmost to preside over the liturgy.

I also think of the deceased soul being offered for deliverance: only yesterday it attained human form, and now it has once again been entered in the register of the dead. Its hun and po have been summoned to the lower realm, where they will wander for a long time through the Springs and Winding Paths of the underworld. If we ask about its remains, have they recently found the peace of burial in their ancestral home? Without passing through the alchemical vessel, how could the soul transcend the common world? I earnestly beseech the perfected beings of the Three Realms to descend together and deliver the deceased soul, refining it until it transforms from an immortal into a human being. May it join with the wondrous Dao, shed its form and transform its body; when the kalpas have run their course, may it return once more to the One. This also depends on the merit of riding the Primordial and encountering Brahma, powers and merits invoked in Daoist ritual.

The blue vault of heaven, together with Fuli, expounded ten methods for delivering and transforming living beings. From the Jade Stratum of Original Yang—the Daoist celestial realm—came the chapters on the Nine Effulgences Giving Birth to the Spirits. Since the scriptures and teachings first circulated, they have been transmitted by lineage masters through the generations.

I, your servant, humbly reflect that I am only a later student, entrusted with carrying on the duties of presiding over the mysterious rites, yet I do not understand the principles of Li and Kan within myself—the images of Yin-Yang, Water and Fire—nor the mysteries of Creation through Qian and Kun. Now I have received these scriptures and, with a sincere heart, strive to put them into practice. I fear that the departed may have gone astray through misunderstanding, in life or after death. Some may think that an abscess on the back went untreated because its sufferer was being punished in the underworld. Where will the soul and its vital spirit go? Who can protect them? The body does not belong to itself, so who can cleanse its bodily substance and refine its form? Without relying on cultivation and ritual practice, how can the departed be delivered?

With reverence, I beseech the holy presence: You are utterly still and empty, without form or image, and transformations arise naturally from You. You perceive the Eight Radiances—the revealed splendors of Heaven and Earth—with lucid clarity, and silently accord with the Seven Mysteries, the profound principles of the Dao. The departed in the netherworld can be delivered because You bear the vow to save others; therefore, my plea is all the more earnest. I beseech You to summon Yin with Yin and Yang with Yang, so that the souls of the dead may be refined and delivered. Then scatter the wind and send down nourishing rain, so that the withered bones may regain life.

The Most High (Taishang, an honorific for the supreme deity) has bestowed precepts and laws, along with scriptures that save and deliver sentient beings. Officials and those without office were never suited to presenting memorials and remonstrances. Now, trapped in straitened circumstances with no way forward, I am truly bewildered and at a loss. These are the words of one person expressing gratitude.

I respectfully declare: the revered deity of the sacred rank governs the principles of the Heavenly Dao and manifests the radiance of the Lord on High. People speak only of how profound and unfathomable the deity is. How could they know that the deity keeps all things alive and brings forth endless transformations? All beings born through the endowment of Qi (vital energy) are under the deity’s command at the pivot of generation; all that has form likewise comes forth through the deity’s shaping and nurturing. The deity can revive what has withered, in secret accord with the mysteries of Yin-Yang transformation; the deity can also warm what is above and moisten what is below, embodying the power of harmonizing water and fire. Formless and imageless, the deity brings forth all things that have form; truly the force that governs all things, the deity nevertheless seems to exercise no deliberate control. The deity’s luminous achievements are vast without limit, and the saving and deliverance of sentient beings has no end.

I humbly remember the ritual’s patron, a woman of the first cyclical sign, overcome with grief and weeping over an injustice, mourning her daughter’s early death. The daughter had not yet reached her eighth day when her husband also died, leaving her to part from him forever, with no hope of meeting again in this life. Her grief and anguish cannot be fully expressed, and no one can console her. I recall that King Wen’s benevolence reached even the dry bones; yet I feel deep shame that my own cultivation is limited, and I cannot foresee the efficacy of the elixir or the mysteries of the liturgy. Now I follow the liturgy as it has been clearly prescribed for the present occasion, hoping that through it the deceased’s true po may be delivered.

The Way of Heaven brings forth men; the Way of Earth brings forth women. As we trace life back to its beginning, so too may we see the deceased off on the final stretch of her journey. The moon’s radiance corresponds to the po, and the sun’s radiance to the hun. May the spirits record your year of birth and erase your name from the register of the dead.

Memorial for Atoning for Sin

Noble titles should not be granted indiscriminately, and punishments should not be imposed rashly. Since everyone covets noble titles, how can people be made to fear punishment? In assessing merit, one must consider its magnitude; in weighing offenses, one must distinguish their severity. Who is to evaluate achievements and grant remission for offenses? In the end, everyone must bear the consequences of their own actions.

Were it not for the Most High’s (the supreme revered deity in Daoism) life-affirming De (Virtue), the people might eventually fall into a plight from which no rescue was possible. Therefore, the Most High opened the cloud brocade of Purple Yang, hung out a precious pearl the size of a millet grain, and granted people the chance to repent their faults and reform. He also delivered the dead and relieved their suffering, issued pardons in accordance with the registers, and commanded the Three Officials and Nine Offices (divine institutions overseeing Heaven, Earth, Water, and related affairs) to investigate the records of the ghost realm. As the scriptures and methods were transmitted, countless generations of ancestors were able to ascend as well. Through these merits, the Golden Gate (the celestial palace) became a bridge to liberation.

I reflect that I am old and frail, with fallen teeth and white hair, and a stooped appearance. My official rank is low and my duties modest; I know my abilities are dull. Now that I have taken up this post, I respectfully submit what I know. I am like a mouse startled in the night, fearful of authority; ashamed of my lack of respect and trembling with nowhere to hide, I can only hope for the grace of Heaven. I humbly ask that you recognize my sincere loyalty and take to heart the filial devotion of a child.

Today I respectfully petition on behalf of the filial daughter So-and-so, who mourns her late father, So-and-so. Her father died by hanging, and three years have now passed. She has repeatedly wished to offer rites for his soul and accrue merit for him, but has never been able to do so. She has heard that sores grew on his back in the spirit realm and could not be cured, until at last he fell under the spell of the “Two Youths” (a traditional name for demons of illness). The scriptures also speak of the “Three Corpses” (Daoist spirits said to watch over the human body and record its transgressions). It seems that, because the deceased was flawed in his intentions, he fell into the underworld and has yet to realize his error.

Yet the living and the dead are separated, with all communication cut off. Such circumstances cannot ordinarily be known by the living through sight or hearing. The deceased seems to be held captive in prison. Gongye Chang (said to have suffered an unjust accusation) was innocent, yet he was punished; Lord Dong was humiliated, and Sima Qian suffered castration. Could they have felt no regret in their hearts?

I serve among the living, yet do not know the laws of the underworld. I wish to clear the deceased of blame, but am myself anxious and uneasy. If my petition gives offense, its force is like that of a thunderclap; what I seek is like searching all the rivers and seas—could there not be a fish that escapes the net? The ancient Code of Lü sets out in detail the five fines and five punishments, and the Rites of Zhou also record three forms of clemency and three pardons. I have no filial virtue like Mulan’s, yet I dare to present a memorial like Tiying’s appeal to save her father, and beg for mercy.

The spirit wanders in confusion, like a moth flying toward a lamp flame, with no idea where to go; it is lost and helpless, like a homeless dog without shelter—truly pitiful. I respectfully look up to the holy and revered one, who vows to be compassionate and responds as soon as a plea is heard. The sacred title belongs uniquely to the Great One of the Northern Dipper (Taiyi). Holy radiance shines throughout the three thousand worlds; the deity once appeared in a body of purple gold at the Marvelous and Majestic Palace of the Eastern Pole. The Great Mystery is vast and boundless, and legend tells of the Great Cavern scriptures and methods.

May the holy one become a refuge for all living beings and deliver them from every suffering. I humbly beg that the deceased’s name be swiftly removed from the register of offenses, that his spirit be transferred to the Northern Office (a divine seat of authority in the underworld), and that companions from the immortals be chosen to guide him as he ascends to the Southern Palace (a palace in the immortal realm).

Literary Writings of Xu Xian, Volume Ten

Four Prayers for Peace and Safety

In the second month of spring, the people pray to pass their days in safety and welcome the new year. The August Lord of Heaven, the highest deity of the celestial realm, has not forsaken us. If we pray sincerely, our intentions can reach Heaven and join with the earnest wishes of the people.

We think of ourselves as humble folk, merely scraping by, yet we know to be grateful for divine grace. Though all people live between Heaven and Earth, they cannot escape turmoil and unease, or entanglement in disputes and blame. Few, when they search their hearts, recognize their own faults; yet when we consider the affairs of the world, many have committed offenses. We are often filled with apprehension, and respectfully ask that we may draw upon the power of doing good and accumulating De (Virtue). May the deities of Heaven and Earth clearly see our conduct and protect us at our sides, so that scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants may each pursue their occupations in peace and enjoy their lives, and the people may live in abundance and security.

Again

The people are ignorant, and often pray for blessings and seek the protection of the spirits. The Lord on High watches over all and surely does not reward the good or punish the wicked out of self-interest. If we do not deceive ourselves or others, the spirits will assist us and make our endeavors go smoothly. May scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants each pursue their occupations in peace and enjoy their lives, and may the people live in abundance and security.

Again

The people are ignorant, and often pray for blessings and seek the protection of the spirits. The Lord on High watches over all and surely does not reward the good or punish the wicked out of self-interest. If we do not deceive ourselves or others, the aid we seek will accord with the proper Way.

We think of how we build our homes against the mountains and cultivate the fields. In the second month of spring, the stars Wu and Bi appear: it is time to begin our hard labor. Throughout the four quarters of the land, one can hear the cries of chickens and dogs; we hope for peace and calm throughout the realm. We know how hard it is to make a living by our labor. How could we fail to offer a Zhaijiao (purification ritual) with wholehearted sincerity, giving thanks to the spirits? Though we are like frogs at the bottom of a well, unable to grasp the vast workings of things, we also cling to life like ants longing for scraps left in a cooking pot. We are deserving of pity.

May there be harvests every year from now on, whether we sow or till, and may our days be peaceful and prosperous. May Heaven grant all the people’s rightful wishes. We also pray that our cattle and livestock may thrive and multiply, so that we may truly receive Heaven’s abundant grace and nurture.

I humbly submit this prayer: The people’s intentions can be seen in their words and deeds, and the Heavenly Emperor’s hearing is close at hand, among the people. His decree cannot be disobeyed; therefore, we may fast, bathe, and hold a sacrifice. We earnestly make our petition, as though the awe-inspiring, illustrious gods stood before us.

I reflect that we are like ants in a cooking pot, insatiable in our desires, and like frogs at the bottom of a well, with narrow understanding. Though born in the Central Land (China), we have not found everything in human life to our liking. Now, as the Upper Origin Festival (the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, when the Heavenly Official grants blessings) approaches, we still hope to receive the Heavenly Official’s blessings. We specially invite a Daoist master to deliver teachings and perform the liturgy (Daoist purification and offering rites), conveying our petition to Heaven and allowing ordinary people in the countryside to hear it as well. May people today remember the past, and may corrupt customs be renewed. We earnestly ask the Heavenly Official to grant blessings, so that people may become distinguished and accomplished like Shen Bo and Fu Hou, live long like Peng Zu, and prosper like Tao Zhugong. Surely these wishes may be granted. The care we receive in our daily lives is, in truth, a gift of Heaven and Earth’s nourishing transformation.

Also: Birthday observance upon reaching the age of sixty

I sincerely pray: The Great Dao is always aligned with goodness; we should understand that good deeds bring good results. The peace I have hoped for in my heart has now come to pass. I respectfully ask a Daoist master to copy and present this prayer. I know my words are unworthy of praise. I have now reached the age of “ear-friendly” understanding—sixty years old. I once fell ill from exhaustion, but, through divine protection, I have now recovered. The tenth lunar month is at hand, and it is also my birthday. I have truly been protected by Heaven’s mandate, and dare not fail to honor my former vow. May my later years be peaceful and smooth; I offer my heartfelt thanks. The merit and virtue are beyond measure, and I shall carry out the rites with reverence and care. Since my ancestors are already at peace, I dare not forget the reverent duty of making offerings and cultivating blessings on their behalf. I look up and ask the gods for support; I bow down and ask them to bestow blessings and bear witness.

Prayer of thanks: A woman cultivates blessings in advance

I speak with reverence: Elaborate rites can instead give rise to disorder; only utmost sincerity can move the spirits. Heaven awakens the human heart. Good deeds accumulated day by day will surely leave blessings in their wake. I look up and pray that Heaven will listen, and pour out the tender feelings in my heart.

I, a certain woman, reflect that my virtue as a wife is far from complete. What good would it do to say more? I cannot even yet distinguish the character “pig,” and I have reached the age of nearly seventy. My voice may be as irritating as a fly’s, and I truly fear that my faults will continue to pile up. I remove my hair ornaments, respectfully confess my sins, and draw my robe closed as I set forth my intentions: I repent of past wrongs and cultivate blessings for the future. I also pray to receive deliverance, and that my name may be entered in the register of the divine bureau under Lord Han’s care. May longevity be with me, and may I also receive the verses of blessing with which the Marquis of Lu wished others long life.

Prayer for a Woman’s Advance Cultivation (a supplication for cultivating blessings in advance), for preparing a Yellow Register proclamation slip (a written appeal to the spirits used in a Yellow Register purification ritual)

I speak with reverence: Human nature inclines in different directions, toward good and toward evil; even a foolish woman can understand this. What people hope for is no more than long life and peace. With Heaven’s protection and good fortune, nothing will go amiss. I bow my head to pray for lasting good fortune, and raise my face to make bold to address the spirits.

I, the wife of a certain man, reflect that I remain entangled in desire and sunk in the world of dust. When the eyes and ears, along with the other senses, encounter forms and sounds, is there not cause for this to incur guilt? Now half my hair has turned gray, and I am fortunate to have reached an age suited to beginning the cultivation of blessings. I am fearful and at a loss. I sincerely repent and confess my sins, yet have not managed to dispel them all. I have carefully chosen the auspicious day of the first day of the second month, and respectfully perform the rite of petitioning the true spirits of the Three Realms (the divine beings of Heaven, Earth, and Water), cultivating the work of blessing in the hope of receiving grace. I also pray that this grace may extend to my husband, so that he may cherish his family more deeply. May my later years be prolonged, and may I also enjoy the family happiness of children and grandchildren delighting their elders and bringing joy to their knees.

Prayer for Completing a Zhaijiao Ritual

On my sixtieth birthday, I find it difficult to convey my feelings directly to the spirits, and so I cannot help but pray again and again. Ritual observances must not be omitted; only when the proper time has come do I dare to make my petition. I reflect that I am old, incapable, and still benighted and unenlightened. Now, as it happens, I have contracted a minor illness as lowly as that of an ox or horse. I am deeply troubled and can only call upon Heaven for help. I now live on like an ant, barely surviving; how could I fail to be grateful for the kindness of the Earth? Though I have already voiced my good wishes, I am fortunate that the divine spirits can discern my heart. I hereby express my sincere gratitude and respectfully report my petition to the spirits. May my merits and virtue be brought to completion, and may my name be honorably entered in the Golden Registers and White Tablets, the rosters used in Daoist rituals to record divine offices and meritorious deeds. May I be granted abundance, longevity, health, and peace, and enjoy the blessings of long life and good fortune symbolized by the “Ji domain” of the Great Plan. May my descendants bring glory to their forebears.

I also perform a rite of thanksgiving and prayer for my father’s peace, and pray for my grandmother’s health and well-being.

Knowing kindness, one must repay it; Heaven above and Earth below, the divine powers of the cosmos, have indeed heard my vow. The dead should be treated as though they were still living, and dutiful children and obedient descendants should spare no effort. I have specially undertaken a Qingjiao, a Daoist purification ritual, and presume to make my petition to the true spirits. I recall that I was orphaned at the age of four, and that my grandmother moved three times, doing everything she could to raise me. In the past, when my grandmother suffered a grave and prolonged illness, my late father was consumed with worry but powerless to treat her. Though we prayed repeatedly to the spirits, calamity still befell us: my late father died young, and nothing could undo what had happened. I remember him through my tears; my wish remains unfulfilled, and I do not know what else I can do. Fortunately, over these past years, the spirits have kept me from feeling the weight of sorrow and have given me peace of mind, so that I am no longer burdened by those events. The departed have passed away; may I soon accomplish good works in the spirit of Lord Han, famed for cherishing life and aiding all beings. May my grandmother also be cared for in her old age, as in the poem of the Book of Songs in which the Lord of Lu wishes his mother long life.

When illness strikes, praying to Heaven is truly a last resort; when calamity appears in a dream, one also longs to learn its cause. I respectfully lay bare my sincere heart and look up to the Heavenly Court, beseeching it to listen. I think of my troubled fate, the separation that has befallen my household, the hardships facing my family, and the disputes that are hard to avoid among its members. If an animal has not lost its mate, how could it be without ordinary affection? A broken lute string can be mended with glue; people, too, may find new love. Though the other’s appearance and adornment were plain, why did it seem as if a demon had shot an arrow into my heart? Perhaps the two of us loved and hated different things, and so even medicine brought little relief.

Therefore, I vowed to invite the Perfected One of Lingji to perform the Nine Truths Repentance Rite. I also prayed that the Celestial Worthy of Taiyi would extend his great compassion, dissolve resentments and transgressions, and free people from suffering. Alas, may my late former wife soon be reborn in a good place, and may she bless my descendants, so they may inherit the family estate for generations.

Again

The Way of Heaven sees clearly. It watches the world with authority and hears what people do; how could it lack eyes and ears? The affairs of the world may seem invisible, but oaths and curses are ultimately witnessed by ghosts and spirits. Is this really so? To think this way is foolish. I think of myself—alas, I have failed in proper conduct and remained ignorant and confused. Thieves guard one barrier after another, so that even a dog’s bark cannot get through; a woman’s incessant chatter is indeed laughable, like a hen’s crowing. Since a Zhaijiao rite should rightly fulfill the vow made, in reason I ought to reflect on myself. Perhaps calamity arises precisely from what we overlook; I should not suppose that I must remain silent simply because I feel wronged. Good is repaid with good and evil with evil, swiftly as a shadow follows its form. Fortunately, there is still a repentance rite to untie resentments and release entanglements.

Again

The Way of Heaven cannot be deceived: it observes from above and listens below. When resentment fills a person’s heart, it wells up within and appears in words. This, too, is unavoidable; one can only inquire into its cause. I think of how fortunate I am to have a repentance rite on which to rely.

Heaven stands supreme and watches over people’s words and deeds; it cannot be deceived. When resentment rises in a person’s heart, it comes from within and shows itself in speech. This too is unavoidable: one simply wishes to get to the bottom of what happened. When I reflect on myself, I often think of how my late father always acted with care and stayed within his proper bounds. Yet, unexpectedly, he was harmed in secret and then faced the distress of others striking him when he was down. I appealed to the Lord on High and asked for a judgment between right and wrong; fortunately, the authorities uncovered the truth. Knowing that I spoke out boldly, how could I dare break my oath? I am ashamed that my dwelling is crude and unclean. Now I have respectfully come to a pure hall to perform a Zhaijiao purification ritual and offer thanks. Though I have done my utmost to express my feelings, I still feel it falls far short. I also fear that if I delay, my intention will lose its focus. A fault can be corrected, just as the light returns after an eclipse of the sun or moon. What good is there in saying these things again now? I only hope they will not bring the censure of being recorded plainly in the Spring and Autumn Annals and left for posterity to criticize.

Prayer for Establishing the Altar of the Dark Capital

We respectfully state: On the sixteenth day of the seventh month in the autumn of the Renxu year, the time has come to welcome the Earth Official, one of the Three Officials who oversees the underworld and examines records of transgressions and blessings, and to review the registers of names. Heaven has issued its command, and the people ought to stand in awe. We first do what lies within human power: with minds made pure through fasting, we express our reverence and prepare a fragrant, clean place to offer a modest sign of sincerity. We remember that we are all beings of flesh and blood, born of our parents. Having received our parents’ bodies and their nurture, how could we forget the filial devotion of crows that feed their aged parents? The departed have gone as far away as flowing water, yet we mistakenly turned the rite into a summons for their souls. When a fault is clearly recognized, it can often be corrected in the blink of an eye. We respectfully follow Daoist liturgy (Keyi), arrange the offerings with reverence, and make a modest show of sincerity. We also invite Daoist priests, cultivators of the Way, to perform meritorious deeds and thereby form a bond of goodness. We pray that the Three Officials and the Northern Feng, the Daoist place of judgment in the underworld, will inspect the registers of the dead and swiftly erase the records of their offenses, so that millions upon millions of our ancestors may ascend to the Golden Palace, the dwelling of the Celestial Emperor, and each find a path to rebirth. May this merit extend to all departed souls lost in suffering, so that they may all find peace and joy.

Harmonious and compliant Qi brings good fortune, while unruly and discordant Qi gives rise to calamities and anomalies. Heaven’s intent is hard to fathom, and its patterns are never fixed. The way of good fortune will grow, and gloomy influences will fade; an auspicious day may be hoped for, and it will soon arrive. We bow low to express our humble thoughts and look up to the discerning judgment of the divine beings. We reflect that we have been fortunate enough to live in peace, yet have failed to guard this blessing well. Everyone has asked to avert calamity and pray for good fortune. We too know that we have erred and ought to feel ashamed. No one dares boast; our hearts are troubled with fear, as though standing at the edge of an abyss. Not knowing how to make our plea, we can only offer what little reverence we can. So we have gathered Daoist priests and solemnly carried out the ritual. We reflect that the people’s wishes are readily seen, and pray that the Celestial Emperor will set aside his anger and change his heart. We beg the divine beings to dispel calamity and bring harmony, so that people need no longer fear the misfortune of neglecting the proper time for sacrifice and the arrival of cold. May everyone enjoy long life and abundance, and may the divine beings bestow blessings in great measure.

Prayer for Preserving Blessings

The Way of Heaven speaks no words, yet brings good things to completion; we should therefore pray with sincere and earnest hearts. When people hold wishes in their hearts, sincerity can move the divine beings and receive a response. We remember their kindness and feel our own shortcomings; our admiration and reverence for the divine beings are especially deep. We reflect that we ourselves…

Prayer for Preserving Blessings

The Way of Heaven speaks no words, yet brings good things to completion; we should therefore pray with sincere and earnest hearts. When people hold wishes in their hearts, sincerity can move the divine beings and receive a response. We remember their kindness and feel our own shortcomings; our admiration and reverence for the divine beings are especially deep. We reflect that we rely wholeheartedly on the divine beings, yet have no merits to claim. Now we have once again received Heaven’s great kindness and have also been fortunate to receive the favor of our religious lineage. Yesterday, we asked Chen Daoxing to handle the journey of the Dragon and Tiger, and indeed received the divine beings’ powerful protection. Now Guo Yongweng and I are again repaying this kindness through our actions, without breaking our earlier promise. Though this is what the people hope for, we dare not claim any personal merit in it. We further ask the divine beings to grant a jade tablet and a wine vessel: above, may they enable the deceased to await summons at the Purple Tenuity Palace, the residence of the Celestial Emperor; and may offerings be presented so that the spirits of the dead can dwell in peace in the tranquil ancestral temple.

Prayer for Establishing This Rite of Deliverance

The Celestial Worthy proclaimed the teachings and showed the way to deliver the spirits of the dead. Children who remember their parents must first uphold the way of filial reverence. We respectfully express our sincere devotion and present the jade tablet and ladle-shaped wine vessel. May the spirits of the dead be able to await summons at the Purple Tenuity Palace above and partake of the grain offerings; below, may they dwell in peace in the tranquil ancestral temple.

Prayer for Establishing This Rite of Deliverance

I humbly pray that the Heavenly Worthy (Tianzun), a revered deity in Daoism, proclaim the teachings and point out the means of saving all beings. Children who remember their parents should first uphold the way of filial respect. I respectfully lay bare my sincere heart and look up to the heavens. I reflect that I have been given a place in this dusty world and was fortunate to be born in the Final Age. I am grateful for the profound kindness of my parents, who gave me life, raised me, and sheltered me. Yet my parents now seem both present and gone; I can only lament that life and death divide us into the realms of light and darkness. I have specially invited Daoist priests to perform rites according to Daoist ritual. A ritual altar has now been set up in advance at the Mystery Altar, where Daoist rites are conducted, and petitions have been offered in the hope of conveying these prayers to the heavenly court. May the Heavenly Worthy show some compassion, behold this earnest heart, and grant abundant assurance. The auspicious blessings of this occasion are beyond words. May the gods of the ten directions come to witness and save those in life and death; may all one thousand nine hundred people join in heartfelt prayer, extending grace throughout the underworld, so that all beings may reach the far shore of the Daoist teachings and be saved.

Again

I humbly pray that Heaven’s hearing—the discerning attention of the heavens—be fair and impartial, and that it take some account of my foolish but sincere heart. Rituals are numerous and easily become confused. I fear imposing again and again and worry that I may incur blame for it, yet this matter truly leaves me no choice. I reflect that my nature is lowly, like a gnat or an ant, seeking only to scrape by; yet everyone possesses a human heart—could anyone be without a good thought? At the time of the Zhongyuan Festival, I began fasting and spiritual cultivation eight days in advance, hoping to form a bond with all beings. Thus I have performed the Nine-Day Universal Salvation rite, relying on sacred power and humbly receiving divine grace. I offer this as an expression of heartfelt gratitude and as a sign of my enduring reverence. May the five viscera be cool and at peace, and the six bowels balanced and healthy. May the elderly regain the vigor of youth, and may the young all enjoy strength and good health. May the spirits of the Three Realms guard and protect them, and the Five Emperors receive them, so that their po-souls may ascend and their hun-souls find deliverance.

Again

I humbly pray that Heaven’s hearing be fair and impartial, and that it take some account of my foolish sincerity, however slight. Rituals are numerous and easily become confused. I fear imposing again and again; could I not incur blame for it? Yet this truly is a matter of necessity. I reflect that my nature is lowly, like a gnat or an ant, seeking only to scrape by; yet everyone possesses a human heart—could anyone be without a good thought? At the time of the Zhongyuan Festival, I began fasting and spiritual cultivation eight days in advance, hoping to form a bond with all beings. Thus I have performed the Nine-Day Universal Salvation rite, relying on sacred power and humbly receiving divine grace. I offer this as an expression of heartfelt gratitude and as a sign of my enduring reverence. May the five viscera be cool and at peace, and the six bowels balanced and healthy. May the elderly regain the vigor of youth, and may the young all enjoy strength and good health. May the spirits of the Three Realms guard and protect them, and the Five Emperors receive them, so that their po-souls may ascend and their hun-souls find deliverance.

Again

I humbly pray that although Heaven is high and far away, it is in truth never distant from the heart within each person. People should be careful about how they begin, and vigilant lest they neglect or err in fasting and spiritual cultivation. May rites be performed according to the Yellow Register (Huanglu), the scriptures and liturgies used in Daoist purification rituals, and may the petitions reach the Purple Tenuity heavenly court, bringing peace of mind. May the elderly regain the vigor of youth, and may the young all enjoy strength and good health. May the spirits of the Three Realms guard and protect them, and the Five Emperors receive them, so that their po-souls may ascend and their hun-souls find deliverance.

Again

Although Heaven seems lofty and remote, it has never left the small space of the human heart. People should act with care from the very beginning, and so must be especially vigilant and maintain the purity of the fast. The liturgy is performed according to the Yellow Register (a type of Daoist Zhaijiao ritual), with devout hearts inviting the holy perfected beings to descend. Relying deeply on the creative power present when Heaven and Earth first opened, we open wide the means of rescuing and delivering all beings: illuminating the darkness deep within the Netherworld, allowing the souls of the dead to leave the long night and behold the light at Yang Valley, the legendary place where the sun rises, and bringing new life in turn to people in this world.

Prayer for the Second Morning

The Dao is inherently beyond words; what we call the Dao is the foundation on which Heaven and Earth move and operate. Fasting expresses reverence, so the fast is set for the following day. Sincerity pours forth like a sunflower facing the sun; reverent supplication stirs a responsive Qi, like the fragrant smoke rising when mugwort is burned in sacrifice. May the spirits take pity and deliver the dead, bringing universal benefit to both the underworld and the world of the living. When people die, their Hun souls return to Heaven and their Po souls to Earth. May the living receive protection and care, their blessings deep and broad as the sea and their lifespans long as the mountains.

Prayer for the Third Morning

In serving the dead and the living alike, one must fulfill one’s filial duty to parents and elders; one must send off the dead with solemn care and observe every rite with diligence. By the grace of the Nine Heavens, a three day fast is specially performed. When the nine mornings of liturgy have been completed, may the Eight Luminous Realms of Daoist immortal splendor be opened, granting the living enduring health and peace. May the names of the dead be inscribed promptly in the Stone Chamber and on the Cinnabar Terrace, where the registers of Daoist immortals and perfected beings are kept. May the souls of the dead find support and be refined and delivered. May the merit accrued through the Golden Registers and White Documents, texts used in Daoist Zhaijiao rituals to record merit and petition for deliverance, extend throughout the underworld and the world of the living, so that all beings may receive salvation.

Prayer for the Morning Assembly

Heaven’s hearing is not far away, yet we are often preoccupied with selfish thoughts. Human life must eventually end, and we cannot help troubling the spirits again and again; overwhelmed by fear, we feel only our own ignorance. We reflect that we are fortunate to have been born human and have long received the favor of the Imperial Lord. The spirits are present everywhere. We know how to serve the dead and how to care for the living. Now we especially rely on the practice of Zhaijiao and hold this assembly of worship. May the Eastern Realm of Everlasting Joy and the Western Kingdom alike shine forth with light; may the Northern Office of the Springs and Bends and the Southern Palace Above Nanchang join in delivering all beings, so that every sentient being may be raised to a higher state.

Prayer for the Closing of the Morning Assembly

The Dao of Heaven is beyond naming, yet it possesses numinous awareness. Since the proper relationships of human society have been established, we should conduct ourselves according to ritual.

The workings and laws of Heaven’s Way are difficult to put into words, yet Heaven’s Way possesses its own power of discernment. Since ancient times, among the bonds that order human life, filial respect for one’s parents has been held most important. Here below, I pour out my deepest grief and beseech the heavens above to listen.

I reflect that I dwell in the human world and, like everyone else, cherish a filial heart. Now, with utmost sincerity, I observe purification and do my best to follow the way of honoring my parents. I remember how my parents raised me, yet I failed to fulfill the duties of filial care: I did not ask after their comfort in winter and summer, nor serve them as I should have. I lament that my loved ones have passed away, separated from me by life and death. Now I offer the merit of this pilgrimage as a bridge to free the deceased from the suffering of the mortal world. I beseech the Supreme Lord to listen, record their good deeds, and lessen their sins. This shows the filial heart of the living: extending our care to the dead while also remembering those still alive, so that the departed souls in the unseen world may all reach the far shore of the Daoist Way.

Again

The Supreme Lord is beside you. Do not let your mind wander; revere Him as though He were at your side. The people receive their constant nature from Heaven, and all cherish good conduct; none fail to honor their kin. Here below, I express my sincere heart and beseech the heavens above to listen.

I reflect that we are all sons and daughters, and that we often devote ourselves to remembering the dead: our loved ones have passed away, and while they lived we did not care for them as we should have. We take one step and bow, looking together toward Sacred Mount Tai (Dongyue Taishan, a holy mountain traditionally associated with life, death, and the underworld) to express our sincerity. We bathe and burn incense, reverently relying on our honored master to present our petition on our behalf: our loved ones have passed away, and while they lived we did not care for them as we should have. We take one step and bow, looking together toward Sacred Mount Tai to express our sincerity; after bathing and burning incense, we rely on our honored master to submit our prayers. In this way, both the living and the dead may receive deliverance. The greatest blessing in human life is auspicious prosperity: the young are strong, and the old are healthy. Through the rite of refinement and deliverance (a Daoist liturgical rite that rescues the dead), the departed souls may have their forms renewed and their spirits preserved. May this merit reach all souls along the roads of the underworld, that they may all accomplish the Daoist Way and attain its fruits.

A Daughter’s Prayer to Deliver Her Father

In the deep darkness of the netherworld, it is grievous indeed that departed souls sink into the Nine Hells (the underworld prisons described in Daoism). In the lofty, radiant heavens, we may hope for the Five Lights to shine and dispel the darkness. Here below, I pour out my heartfelt sincerity and beseech the clear heavens above to listen.

I reflect that my father has only recently passed away; his body has not yet grown cold, and his voice still seems to ring in my ears. As his daughter, how could I ever forget the duty of filial service to my father? Fortunately, the Celestial Worthy has stirred with a wish to relieve suffering and, hearing the cry, sent down a response. I must also rely on the merit of cultivation and refinement, and offer these prayers in gratitude and supplication. May every obstacle and hardship my father faced during his fifty-three years of life be removed and cleared away; may he regain life anew in the formless, imageless expanse of space. May this deliverance also reach all sentient beings, that they may ascend together to the Great Dao.

With sincere devotion, may the deceased hear and receive aid. I also rely on the power of cultivated merit to express my reverent gratitude. I humbly pray that all the obstacles and hardships the deceased endured over fifty-three years be dispelled together; and that countless streams of vital energy return to the vast emptiness, dissolve into the formless, and attain new life. May their grace extend to all beings, so that together they may walk the Great Dao.

Again

I respectfully submit: the Dao is beyond words. Even across countless ages, its form cannot be fully described. Where has my father gone now? Fifty-three years have passed like a white colt racing through a gap in the wall. Quietly reflecting, who could fail to grieve? I think of how, after my father died, he sank amid the dust of the mortal world. Though his food and clothing were meager, he could just manage to console himself; then illness suddenly overtook him, and a malignant sore grew on his back. Heaven is high and earth far away—who can restore his soul and summon his spirit? In the cold moonlight and chill of the frost, who would not weep in sorrow? Now, through this merit, I offer a bridge to deliver the deceased. Since, through your grace, the deceased may ascend beyond this world, how could I forget to give thanks? I humbly pray that the Three Officials, who govern the realms of Heaven, Earth, and Water, wield their brushes and swiftly erase the registers of sin, removing the roots of evil karma; and that the Five Emperors, who govern the five directions, welcome the deceased, allowing him to roam in Jade Capital and ascend to the Golden Palace in Heaven.

Again

I respectfully submit: my father’s kindness remains unrepaid. I humbly pray that the Three Officials wield their brushes and swiftly erase the registers of sin, removing the roots of evil karma; and that the Five Emperors welcome the deceased, allowing him to roam in Jade Capital and ascend to the Golden Palace in Heaven.

Again

I respectfully submit: my father’s kindness remains unrepaid. I can only rely on the merit of conducting rites for the deceased and pray that the Imperial Lord lay aside his anger, change his mind, and awaken compassion. Having received your mercy, how could I forget this pardon? I reflect that my own sins are deep and that calamity has ensnared my father. Though personal grief urges me to plead his case, there is nowhere I can appeal; I can only pray that the awe-inspiring presence of the gods protect us. I cleanse my body and mind and cultivate spirit and form. I have already presented a memorial to Vermilion Mound, the southern immortal realm of everlasting life in Daoist lore; now, baring my heart and pouring out my sincerity, I once again submit a prayer adorned with kingfisher-green jade. The deeper my hope, the more fearful and helpless I feel. I humbly pray that the deceased may hear with his ears, speak with his voice, see with his eyes, and think and understand with his mind; that his hands and feet may dance and his body move freely, enjoying the bliss of carefree ease. May all who suffer in the netherworld attain deliverance through this rite.

I respectfully submit these words: When a daughter marries, customarily she should pray for her parents’ peace and well-being. Their kindness is as vast as the boundless heavens; the grief of having no father to rely on is truly unbearable. I bow my head to lay bare the sorrow in my heart and look up, beseeching the spirits to hear me.

I think of my father, whose speech was plain and whose learning had some foundation. By the standards of the world, he did no wrong. Why, then, was he abandoned by fate? He lay ill for six years, his limbs as if imprisoned. The Two Firm Ones—the spirits of illness—took advantage of his weakness and entered his body, driving the disease deep into its final stages. Perhaps the Three Corpses, spirits said to tempt people into wrongdoing and shorten their lives, were at work, leaving him dazed and unconscious. His illness had become critical. Who could know how to bring him back from the dead? Now I weep here, fulfilling in some small measure my duty as a daughter. Stricken with grief and resentment, I can only speak plainly of what weighs on my heart.

Fortunately, after the Yan Kang calamity, a cycle of tribulation spoken of in Daoist teaching, the rites and teachings have continued to be transmitted. They can loosen the bonds of injustice in the halls of Yama. I beg that, through their wondrous power, a path to rebirth be opened for my late father. May his countenance become dignified and well formed, as destined by the causes and conditions of former lives. May all his offenses be absolved, and may the lameness and illnesses he has borne for so long be healed, restoring his original form so that he may roam the Great Void, the boundless expanse described in Daoist teaching. May both the netherworld and the human world receive this blessing, and may all attain liberation together.

Again:

I respectfully submit these words: If the Supreme Emperor has not granted pardon, how can one fail to act with caution and reverence? The grief of a young daughter with no father to rely on is truly unbearable. I bow my head to lay bare my sincere feelings and look up, beseeching the spirits to hear me.

My father’s festering abscess could not be cured; after his death, his body had not yet grown cold. Perhaps his image appeared in the light, his face marked by sorrow. Who could remain unmoved by this? How could I not plead with all my heart? Gongsun Sheng, known as Yechang in ancient times, was innocent yet still subjected to slander; Zeng Shen was falsely accused of murder, and suspicion was difficult to dispel. My father endured suffering for three years, bearing his grievance beneath the Nine Springs. If I do not serve the spirits with wholehearted reverence, who will believe that this grave injustice can be set right?

I beg that the karmic obstacles he has accumulated over many lives be pardoned, and that he not be detained and forced to join the ranks of ghosts. May the enmities carried over from former lives also be dissolved, so that from now on he may be freed and awaken.