《上阳子参同契分章注》Vol. 2

The fire of the Li trigram has just been set in motion. In Neidan cultivation, this term serves as a metaphor for the heart fire. It then circulates throughout the body day and night, bringing all the joints and the inner gods under its command. At this stage, one should diligently gather the mind and turn inward, keeping the voice quiet and the mind peaceful, the breathing even and the pulse steady. Only then does the Elixir begin to condense.

“Begin the practice with gentle fire” means that, in the early stages of Elixir cultivation, one proceeds gently with the gentle fire. At the beginning and end of the process, however, one uses fierce fire: at the start, fierce fire refines the self—that is, disciplines one’s nature and subdues distracting thoughts—and at the end, fierce fire gently nourishes it. Thus the “Song of the Cauldron and Vessel” says: “Use fierce fire at the beginning and end, and gentle fire in between.”

“Observe the fire’s timing with utmost care” means that one must not be negligent or slack. The “Nihuan” says: “Without sufficient effort, it cannot take shape.” “Examine and regulate cold and heat carefully” means not to let external things interfere and lead to misjudgment. Master Ziyang says: “In regulating the fire’s timing, one must rely on the transformations of Yin-Yang.”

Proceeding in this way through the twelve periods, in a cycle that repeats without end, one continues until mercury is added and lead extracted—a Neidan expression for the balancing and refining of Yin-Yang essence and Qi. The lead is nearly exhausted, the mercury nearly dry; the seven Po souls, which Daoism associates with bodily life, perish, and the Hun soul undergoes transformation. This is what is meant by “Qi is nearly spent, life is about to end; the body dies and the souls transform.” At this stage of cultivation, the Elixir turns a vivid purple-gold and crimson: the Reverted Elixir.

“Powdered into a single pellet, it is wondrous in the tiniest measure” means that it is as small as a pinch of powder or a single pill. Something the size of a millet grain is called a “pellet.” The image of a measure as slight as a knife-tip vessel describes its extreme minuteness, yet it possesses wondrous powers beyond words.

This chapter gives a comprehensive account of the introductory methods of cultivation. Yet its subtle and profound meaning must be transmitted orally by a master. Who can truly succeed in cultivation through written words alone?

The former sage Zhu Xi (also known as Zhu Wengong) sought the Great Dao but never received instruction from a master, and so he took a special interest in the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three, also known as the Zhouyi Cantong qi). In his later years, while ill, he wrote to the Vice Minister Yuan: “The Cantong qi was not originally written to explain the Book of Changes. It merely borrows the method of Najia—matching the heavenly stems and earthly branches with the trigrams for divination—to convey the timing of advance and retreat in the practice of cultivation.”

Though Zhu Xi’s learning was so extensive, lacking a teacher’s guidance, he understood the book’s contents as the method of Najia. How could he know that this book was precisely intended to explain the principles of the Book of Changes, which is why it is called the Zhouyi Cantong qi? Moreover, the advance and retreat involved in the practice of the Elixir Dao do not use the method of Najia.

Zhu Xi also wrote in his letter: “Recently, when traveling, I have taken no other books with me, so I have been able to study the Cantong qi carefully and have broadly understood its meaning. In the past, although I often looked through it, I always found it dull and quickly set it aside. Only now have I begun to make out some of its threads, though I still do not understand the materials it uses or its essential secrets.” Mysterious language and hidden teachings cannot be grasped through speculation and guesswork. Zhu Xi repeatedly found the book dull and put it aside, yet blind teachers insist on explaining it through conjecture.

Zhu Xi also said: “I often wanted to learn this Dao, but I never received instruction and did not know where to begin.” This shows that even sages need a teacher’s guidance. Even someone as wise as Confucius or Mencius could not have understood the tradition on their own without receiving its transmission. People today are complacent, speculating out of thin air and cultivating recklessly; compared with the worthy people of earlier times, their errors are all the greater. Had Zhu Xi received a teacher’s guidance and fully understood the Dao of the Changes as taught by the sages, he would certainly not have insisted on treating this book as a manual of divination.

Chapter Fifteen: The Nature of Water and Fire

When deriving the numerical principles of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water), the account should be concise rather than elaborate. If water is used to strike fire, the flame is extinguished at once. When the sun and moon obscure one another, an eclipse occurs, usually around the new or full moon—that is, near the first or fifteenth day of the lunar month. When water surges in abundance, the water symbolized by the Kan trigram encroaches…

The patterns governing the changes of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) can be summed up simply and clearly; they are not complicated. When water is used to quench fire, the flames go out at once. The Sun and Moon sometimes obscure one another, producing solar and lunar eclipses, usually on the new moon (the first day of the lunar month) and the full moon (around the fifteenth). When water is strong, Kan Water—the trigram symbolizing Yin and water—overcomes Li Fire, the trigram symbolizing Yang and fire. When fire is weak, Li Fire grows dim, as though daylight itself had darkened.

Yin and Yang join and nourish one another; this is the Way of nature. A “name” identifies a condition, while a “designation” explains its nature. Only when Metal returns to its original nature can it be called “Returning the Elixir,” a Neidan term for returning to one’s original nature and refining it into an elixir. I do not presume to make claims without basis; I am only following the words of the sages to clarify the matter.

Ancient texts took “Dragon and Tiger” as their title, and the Yellow Emperor praised “Golden Florescence.” The Prince of Huainan refined “Autumn Stone,” an ancient alchemical substance made from urine and other materials, and Perfected Yuyang later added “Yellow Sprout,” an alchemical term often referring to the subtle medicinal substance cultivated in the process of refinement. Those with virtue and ability may persevere in cultivation; those unsuited to it should not join them. The principles of past and present have always been consistent. We speak with one another in order to express the truths we seek. Those who study the Dao should apply themselves all the more and consider the matter deeply. The most essential principles have been made perfectly clear; there is no deception here.

“Five Phases numerology” refers to the five elements—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth—and derives from them the principle that the three and five return to unity. In refining the Golden Elixir, Lead, Mercury, Silver, Cinnabar, and Earth are used to represent the Five Phases and are coordinated according to Yin-Yang. The saying “Water can extinguish Fire” means that Yin dissolves Yang. When the Sun and Moon press against each other and an eclipse occurs, with one obscuring the other, it must be on the new or full moon. This symbolizes the two sides of Yin-Yang contending as they wax and wane. When Yin-Yang is in harmony and the two sides blend, they naturally produce an interaction.

Here, Metal and Water together belong to “emotion,” while Wood and Fire together belong to “nature.” Emotion resides in the northwest, while nature governs the southeast. The southeast is called “I,” and the northwest “the other.” The emotion of Metal and Water naturally comes from outside and restrains Wood and Fire; the nature of Wood and Fire then turns back inward and coalesces into the Golden Elixir. This is the meaning of “Metal comes to return to the beginning of nature; only then can it be called the Returned Elixir.” The author considers these two lines the core of the Cantong qi.

“I dare not invent doctrines out of thin air, but follow the writings of the sages” means that the Immortal Elder received the sages’ true transmission, as well as an ancient copy of the Longhu jing. Following its methods, he cultivated the Elixir to completion and then wrote this book to teach later generations. The author goes on to cite the Yellow Emperor, who called his successfully refined Elixir “Golden Flower”; the Prince of Huainan, who called his “Autumn Stone”; and Yuyang, who called his “Yellow Sprout.” Though they used different names for the Elixir they refined and ascended to immortality with, all these names refer to the Returned Elixir, primordial Qi, and things of the same kind. Later readers heard “Golden Flower” and guessed it meant five kinds of metal; heard “Yellow Sprout” and guessed it meant eight kinds of ore; and heard “Autumn Stone” and guessed it was something made from urine and feces.

The sages of antiquity established different names in order to explain the principles clearly. Could the Elixir they cultivated follow a path apart from Yin-Yang? This path is one that only sages can diligently cultivate, and from ancient times to the present there has always been just this one. The great sages of the Three Teachings must also possess the same essential conditions in order to carry out the methods of practice. Thus it is said: “The Dao of ancient and modern times remains one Dao; what people discuss and seek together is also the same.” Beyond this, there is no other method. Later generations of Dao cultivators should reflect carefully and seek a teacher’s guidance. They will then understand that the principles described in this book are already clearly revealed, and that its readers are not being deceived.

Shangyangzi says: “The Cantong qi is divided into three parts. Each gives distinct emphasis to substance and function, without confusing one with the other, and the methods of practice they describe are extraordinarily subtle. ‘Can’ means investigating the foundations of Heaven and Earth’s transformations; ‘tong’ means drawing on things of the same kind to bring forth the workings of generation; ‘qi’ means harmonizing with the effects of transformation and generation. The upper part discusses the beginning and end of Elixir refinement; the middle part sets out its subtle and hidden essentials; the lower part supplements what was omitted in the images and forms—that is, the symbols and patterns on which cultivation is based.”

The upper part corresponds to the Shangjing of the Dragon and Tiger in both its inner and outer meanings. Some suspect that later writers composed the Jing of the Dragon and Tiger on the basis of the upper part of the Cantong qi and then called it a classic. Others believe that there must originally have been three classics: upper, middle, and lower. If there were no middle or lower classic, why call it the “Upper Classic”? How could ordinary people easily grasp the intentions of sages? “Upper Classic” can also mean the first classic; its meaning was never something ordinary people could infer. Moreover, the text says, “Ancient records bear the title ‘Dragon and Tiger.’” From this we know that it belongs to writings handed down from high antiquity, so there is no reason to doubt that it is called the Ancient Text of Gold and Jade.

The Perfected Peng Xiao says in his preface: “The Immortal Master’s teacher is unknown. He obtained the ancient text Jing of the Dragon and Tiger and grasped its subtle meaning. He then composed the three parts of the Cantong qi on the basis of the Zhouyi.” He also says: “Because its contents had not yet explored every subtle detail, he wrote another part to supply what had been omitted and further expound the profound meaning of the Elixir classic.”

It is said that the Immortal Elder first transmitted the essentials of the Perfected Yin Changsheng to a Perfected One, then later took Xu Congshi as his teacher, and thus gained a thorough understanding of its profound and subtle principles. The biographies of immortals record this lineage clearly. Zhenyi also says: “After the book was written, it was secretly transmitted to Xu Congshi of Qingzhou. Xu then concealed his name and wrote a commentary on it.” The book’s line of transmission is therefore beyond doubt. What is there left to dispute?

More than a hundred people wrote commentaries on this book. Among them, Peng Xiao and Wang Dao produced the better explanations. Peng Xiao did indeed receive instruction from a teacher; this is also evident from his Diagram of the Bright Mirror and his preface to the Cantong qi. Yet his commentary on this book still contains scattered and confused passages, which is why it was said that “ditches and rivers each run their own course, while beauty and ugliness become intermingled.” Wang Dao’s interpretation, by contrast, is especially empty and barren.

On close inspection, the language of the Dragon-Tiger Classic is archaic and profound, but it is less clear and direct than the Cantong qi. Its words are obscure and subtle. Without a sage teacher’s repeated guidance and personal instruction in the practical methods, who would dare to speculate recklessly? For example, after the line “When metal returns to the beginning of its nature, it may be called the Returning Elixir”—meaning that the Qi of metal returns to the beginning of its nature, and only then can it be called the Returning Elixir—the text immediately adds: “I dare not speak falsely; I merely follow the words of the sages.” This shows that even the sages of antiquity would not have dared to make claims from nothing without a teacher’s transmission. Without such instruction, how could anyone have written a book like this, one that accords with the principles of Heaven and Earth’s transformations?

The sage’s compassionate foresight is what preserved this book in the world. It is like a ladder leading to the Dao of Heaven, and like a raft for crossing a river: a support on which practitioners can rely. Without this book in the world, people would stray in every direction into heterodox paths. Teachers and students who do not understand the true Dao would invent strange doctrines from nothing, lead one another astray, and ultimately fall into great suffering. Without this book, the world would have no guiding purpose for cultivation, nor any Dao transmitted by the sages. What, then, could guide the diligent seekers of the Dao throughout the world toward attainment? This deserves careful reflection. The Immortal Elder’s insight was truly Heaven-given.

Generally speaking, to write a commentary is to explain a book’s meaning. The original text is profound and obscure, difficult to understand; a commentary clarifies it so that readers in later generations can comprehend it.

To annotate a book, one must first truly grasp its original meaning. One’s breadth of mind and insight must also surpass those of earlier commentators, and one must understand the text thoroughly and clearly. Only when the annotation goes deeper than what the book itself explains is one qualified to comment on it. Otherwise, one point will remain unclear and another impossible to explain, misleading later readers in the process. One must not assume, simply because one’s own understanding is narrow, that later readers are all less capable. If a sage or wise person were born with the wish to correct errors and preserve the truth, confused interpretations of this kind might still obscure the matter, preventing it from being clearly discerned and brought back to the right path.

This approach might be acceptable for other scriptures, but the Cantong qi is different. Wei Boyang, its author, once paid a personal visit to the two Perfected Ones Yin and Xu. The book expounds the orthodox Great Dao; its language is lofty and vigorous, its meaning profound and subtle, and every word has been carefully weighed. What is more, it discusses the methods of Golden Elixir cultivation, along with the use of the cauldron and vessel—the implements used in alchemy—and the points and apertures involved. These subjects number well over a hundred, yet Boyang summed them all up in the single phrase, “The metal returns to its original nature.”

The Confucian scholars of the Song dynasty failed to grasp the Great Dao of the Book of Changes and refused to understand its principles, treating it always as a book of divination. In doing so, they obscured the intentions of Fuxi, King Wen, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius—the “Four Sages”—and dimmed the Dao of creation expressed through Qian and Kun, Yin and Yang, and the transformations of forward and reverse movement. They thus betrayed Boyang’s purpose in carrying forward and explaining the ancient truth. If we do not now reveal at least some of the text’s essential points, the Four Sages’ intentions will remain unvindicated for a long time, and the Great Dao of the Book of Changes will remain unknown from one generation to the next. In fact, the most crucial principle has already been stated plainly: “Clearly before us, it does not deceive us.” These words are truly earnest.

Middle Scroll

Chapter Sixteen: The Essence and Qi of Yin and Yang

Qian and Kun, firmness and yielding, join together and contain one another. Yang Qi takes the lead, while Yin Qi receives; the male and female depend on each other. Yin and Yang must work together for the transformations of creation to unfold, allowing essence and Qi to extend and circulate. Kan and Li—the Book of Changes trigrams symbolizing water and fire, and also used to represent Yin and Yang—take precedence, their light shining and spreading outward. The hidden, mysterious transformations are beyond measurement and cannot be fully depicted in diagrams. The sages investigated and weighed these changes, considered their sequence, and set in order the foundations from which the myriad things arise.

The four—Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li—blend into one and proceed directly into the realm of emptiness. The sixty-four hexagrams circulate in sequence, arrayed like a carriage that carries and conveys. The dragon-horse draws the carriage, while the enlightened ruler grasps the moment. When Yin and Yang are in harmony, one can proceed with the current along a level, straight road. Follow a crooked path instead, and one will encounter danger and obstruction, bringing the state to ruin.

The commentary says: The Upper Section consists of fourteen chapters and explains alchemy through metaphor. The dragon horse driving the carriage symbolizes an enlightened ruler who grasps the right moment. When things are harmonized and proceed smoothly, the people will follow, and the road ahead will be level and straight. Taking a crooked path makes the journey perilous and can bring a state to collapse and ruin.

The commentary says: The fourteen chapters of the Upper Section have already explained the sequence and the beginning and end of alchemical practice. This section revisits its subtler details, listing them chapter by chapter to explain how the Ninefold Return Great Elixir—a Daoist Neidan term for a method of refining the Great Elixir—is applied. Later students must investigate deeply and understand it thoroughly; they must not be vague or perfunctory, because even the slightest deviation may prevent the Elixir from forming. Shangyangzi divides the Middle Section into fifteen chapters, each presenting one of fifteen topics.

This chapter focuses on Yin, Yang, Jing, and Qi. Qian represents Yang’s firmness, while Kun represents Yin’s gentleness. The “Appended Judgments” of the Book of Changes, a text that explains the meanings of its hexagrams, says: “Qian is the Yang; Kun is the Yin. When Yin and Yang unite, firmness and gentleness each take shape. In this way, the workings of Heaven and Earth are made visible, and the virtue of the spirits is brought into connection.” Qian’s virtue is firm, strong, centered, and pure; Kun’s virtue is yielding, steadfast, and beneficial. When a noble person acts in accordance with these principles, this is the Golden Elixir Way of Qian and Kun in union. Only a noble person can practice it in this way; petty people act in opposition.

Confucius once said, “I have never seen anyone truly firm.” Someone replied, “Shen Cheng is firm.” Confucius said, “Shen Cheng has so many desires. How can he be called firm?” The meaning of firmness is profound and far-reaching. How could a petty person, who only forces a show of strength for a moment, achieve centeredness? And without centeredness, how could Jing and Qi be made pure? Firmness belongs to Qian, whose movement is direct and forceful, so it is easy to understand. Gentleness belongs to Kun, whose movement is open and expansive, so it is easy to follow. What is easy to understand draws people close; what is easy to follow brings things to completion. When one can both draw people close and accomplish undertakings, one’s work can grow, flourish, and endure. These are the virtue and achievements of sages and worthies. The Golden Elixir Way may be what enables one to find a stable place between firmness and gentleness.

Thus, Qian’s Yang virtue governs holding and leading, while Kun’s Yin virtue is devoted to containing and receiving. Male and female depend on each other through Jing and Qi; likewise, Jing and Qi can circulate and unfold only through the union of male and female. The “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes, a text that expounds its principles, says: “Jing and Qi come together to form things; wandering souls bring about change.” To “form things” means to follow the natural order and thereby give rise to human beings and all things. To “bring about change” means to reverse this process and attain a transformation—for example, to pass from the ordinary into sagehood, or to become a Buddha or an immortal.

What is meant by “Kan and Li at the head”? When the Yang strength of the Qian Trigram interacts with the Kun Trigram, the middle line of Qian becomes Yin, forming the Li Trigram. When Kun receives Qian’s Yang energy, its inner line becomes Yang, forming the Kan Trigram. Thus Kan and Li inherit from Qian and Kun, stand at the head of Yin and Yang, and embody a balance of strength and softness. The “transformation” described here means working with Yin and Yang against the direction of natural depletion, so that life returns to its origin and is restored, and one may even rise from the ordinary to the sacred and cultivate immortality.

The Li Trigram contains a brightness like the sun, while the Kan Trigram holds a radiance like the moon; their light shines downward. This transformation is mysterious and profound, beyond measurement and impossible to depict in a diagram. Only sages can investigate and assess it, and explain its underlying principles by referring to the signs that attest to changes in Yin and Yang. This conveys the same idea as the earlier line, “The subtle primordial essence is hard to see; it is known through inference and verification by signs.”

What is meant by “the four contained in chaos”? Yin and Yang, Jing, and Qi are enclosed within the cavity of nothingness. From there they set the sixty hexagrams in motion and arrange them into an order of transformations. Kun symbolizes the ox and also the carriage; Qian symbolizes the dragon and also the horse. When the De of Qian and Kun unite, it is like “yoking the dragon and horse”: the realm can be brought to order, and an enlightened ruler can govern in accord with the times.

The Golden Liquid Returning Elixir, a Neidan term for the process of refining Jing and Qi and restoring them to their origin, follows the same principle. The dragon represents the Wood-mercury of the East, and the horse represents the cinnabar fire of the South. The dragon and horse must also be joined by the Metal tiger of the West and the water of the Black Tortoise of the North. Only then can Jing and Qi coalesce and form the Elixir, as though a carriage were being driven on a journey.

“When harmony prevails, all follow; the road is level and free of crookedness” describes an enlightened ruler governing the realm as if traveling along a smooth, level road, without harming the people, while the Qi of harmony responds at every turn. If the ruler strays from the right path, or lets treacherous people cloud his judgment and envy the worthy, the state falls into peril. In history, after Zhang Jiuling left office and Li Linfu gained power, the seeds of the An Lushan Rebellion began to grow. After Qin Hui came to power and Yue Fei was killed, recovering the lands of Yan and Yun was out of the question. Upright gentlemen devote themselves to the state and worry that power over it may slip from the ruler’s hands. Petty men look only to their own interests and worry that power may not fall into their own hands. In every age, gentlemen and petty men exist side by side.

People of Virtue should treat petty people with kindness and tolerance, while petty people should in turn follow those of Virtue. In this way, the state will not fall into ruin, and the world can be brought to order.

As a metaphor for cultivation, this means first bringing harmony to the heart. When the heart is harmonious and Qi flows smoothly, one can meet each task with ease. The Yiyi, the commentaries on the Book of Changes, says: “Harmony and joy bring good fortune; in action there is no doubt.” Once things are in harmony, one should set the heart straight, make one’s intentions sincere, and carefully guard against stray thoughts. Then one will encounter no obstacles, and the work of refining the Elixir will not be harmed. In cultivation, even the slightest deviation calls for great care. The following twenty-eight chapters will revisit these four points and explain them in greater detail.

Chapter Seventeen: The Junzi Dwells in His Chamber

When a noble person remains at home and speaks words that are fitting, even those thousands of miles away will respond. This refers to a ruler residing deep within the palace and issuing decrees in accordance with the rhythms of Yin-Yang. A practitioner, meanwhile, should gather in what they have learned, wait for the right moment, and observe the arrangements of the trigrams’ qi and the months. The Tun hexagram corresponds to the months of Zi and Shen, and the Meng hexagram to the months of Yin and Xu. The other sixty hexagrams likewise each correspond to particular days and times. Only two hexagrams are given here as examples; the rest have not yet been described one by one.

Laws should be established and punishments carried out in keeping with benevolence and righteousness, and with generosity. Defying the seasons and their laws invites danger; following them brings good fortune. One should act according to the calendar, remain focused and cautious, and carefully observe the days and the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang. Even the slightest deviation may bring regret and calamity. If the turning points of the winter and summer solstices fall out of order, the movement of Yin-Yang will become irregular: bitter winter will bring scorching heat, midsummer will bring frost and snow, and day and night at the spring and autumn equinoxes will become unbalanced, no longer matching the times shown by the clepsydra, an ancient timekeeping device. Floods and droughts will then strike in succession, winds and rains will fall out of balance, locusts will swarm, and unusual phenomena will follow one after another, even including strange celestial signs and the collapse of mountains and the splitting of the earth.

A filial child who devotes their whole heart and mind can move the Supreme Norm, the highest principle that stands in the center and governs all things. Seen from nearby, words issue from one’s own mouth; seen from afar, they travel to other lands. Words and actions may bring calamity or blessing, foster peace or provoke war. All four outcomes arise from the human heart. Action and stillness each have their proper measure, and one should follow the governing principles. When the four seasons run their proper course, they harmonize with Qi, the vital energy that moves through the cosmos. The boundaries between hard and yielding remain clear, without being confused with one another; the Five Phases each keep their place, without arbitrary increase or decrease. The Way of change circulates in an unending cycle, at times contracting and at times extending, turning back and forth without cease.

Master Shangyang’s commentary explains that the central concern of this chapter is the need, when first beginning cultivation in the chamber, to take careful and thorough precautions against every kind of mistake. Alchemical practice is difficult, so caution is needed at every step. The sages deliberately use the gentleman as a comparison. The Commentary on the Appended Phrases in the Book of Changes says, “When a gentleman is in his chamber and speaks words of goodness, people a thousand miles away respond. How much more so those nearby?” It also says, “Speech and action are the hinges of the gentleman. Once these hinges turn, honor and disgrace are at stake. A gentleman’s words and deeds can move Heaven and Earth.” It further says, “Think repeatedly before speaking, and deliberate carefully before acting. Only through such thought and deliberation can one accord with change.”

Master Shangyang says, “The Dao is originally without words, but without words, how could the Great Dao be made clear? ‘Without words’ means that those who possess De do not speak lightly; therefore, one must be cautious in speech. How much more so for those who practice the Dao and cultivate the Elixir? Laozi said, ‘Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know.’ People with only a little cleverness, who are ignorant in truth, speak merely to show off what they know. A genuine teacher can see through their falsehood, while those of shallow capacity will not readily discuss such matters.” Master Ziyang said, “Even with a cauldron before one and swords and saws at one’s throat, one would not dare reveal it.” Yet if someone is truly suited to cultivate the Dao, how could one say nothing at all? When first entering the chamber to gather the medicine, one must especially avoid speaking carelessly. But if nothing is said, how can one obtain the true medicine? The Scripture of the Muddy Ball says, “Without communication through words, those who share the Dao cannot draw close to one another; without sufficient work, one cannot achieve completion.”

The Immortal Master quotes the words of the immortals and sages and then explains them: “The lord of ten thousand chariots dwells within his deep palace, issuing commands in accord with the rhythms of Yin and Yang.” This means that obtaining the Elixir must follow the seasons of Yin and Yang—that is, one must grasp the moment when “one Yang returns,” when Yang energy begins to revive.

“Store your implements and await the proper time; do not act against the months assigned to the trigrams.” This means that gathering ingredients and refining the elixir must wait for the right moment, in keeping with the seasonal periods and monthly orders represented by the trigrams. One must wait until the moon shows the first light associated with the Zhen trigram: the moon’s first appearance on the third day, when Geng Metal becomes manifest. The quest for the elixir must also follow the rhythms of Yin-Yang change and wait for the moment when a single Yang begins its return.

“Tun corresponds to Zi and Shen” means that the Tun hexagram corresponds to the place where Water Qi first arises and flourishes. “Meng uses Yin and Xu” means that the Meng hexagram corresponds to the place where Fire Qi first arises and returns to concealment. Each of the sixty hexagrams corresponds to particular dates; only Tun and Meng are briefly cited here.

“Not yet fully understood” is the Immortal Elder’s way of saying that he has not yet completely investigated the principles involved. Since their subtle essentials must be transmitted orally, the scripture says that they are “not ordinary words of the world.” Only a sage who has attained the state of a perfected person, penetrated the profound principles, and explored what is hidden can fully grasp their meaning. Saying “not yet fully understood” also implies that without the capacity of a sage, how could one cultivate this Way and become a perfected person?

“Establishing principles and setting penalties” serves to prevent deceit; “acting with benevolence and extending De” enables people to accept them willingly. “Those who go against it meet misfortune; those who follow it meet good fortune” means that one must abide by the rules, clearly understand and observe the commands, and act with complete sincerity, focused attention, and discretion.

“Carefully observe the days and hours” means that in a year one selects only a single month, in a month only a single day, in a day only a single double-hour, and within that double-hour uses only one talisman. “Examine the ebb and flow carefully” means that one must distinguish the purity or turbidity, and the quantity, of the Water produced by Dui Metal. Dui Metal and the Water it produces are terms from alchemy, describing correspondences between substances such as Metal and Water and the transformations of Yin-Yang. The slightest mistake, even the smallest deviation, will bring punishment and calamity and damage the elixir furnace.

If the procedure is mishandled, Yin and Yang fall into disorder, and the seasonal measures of the winter and summer solstices change: the depths of winter become scorching hot, while severe frost falls in midsummer. At the spring and autumn equinoxes, day and night are no longer equal; dawn and dusk lose their proper times; rain, sunshine, and drought become irregular, and strange phenomena occur one after another. The scripture uses these abnormal signs as a metaphor: when refining the elixir at the furnace, one error throws everything into disorder. The root of such deviations is a lack of skill in one’s own cultivation.

Foolish people fail to reflect on themselves and instead blame the alchemical scriptures. Those with deep innate capacity and sincere, earnest hearts will examine themselves, correct their faults, and spur themselves on. Their resolve grows firmer, and they practice diligently without turning back. When even a single thought reaches Heaven, they will naturally receive the aid of the immortals, and whatever they undertake will surely come to fruition. This is like a filial child whose sincerity moves the Supreme Ruler.

The heart is where the spirits dwell. When the heart is steadfast, the divine beings will naturally arrive. Words are the voice of the heart; when speech is sincere, people’s natures can resonate with one another. Though words come from one’s own mouth, their sound can travel far. Failure brings calamity, while success brings good fortune. When affairs go awry, they may lead to war; when they are brought to completion, people can enjoy peace and well-being. These four outcomes—success and failure, smoothness and adversity—are all shaped by the human heart.

A person’s actions and stillness alike must be free from reckless movement and follow established standards, just as a carpenter uses an ink line to make a straight edge. Then the Qi of the four seasons will respond to one another, firmness and yielding will be harmonized, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) will each find their proper order. The principles described in the Zhouyi will then circulate in an unbroken cycle, and all will proceed smoothly.

These examples mean that those who cultivate the Golden Elixir must devote themselves single-mindedly and guard carefully against danger. The accomplishment of the alchemical Way depends not only on oneself but also on the timing of Heaven. If Heaven’s will is unfavorable, one should use material offerings and sincerity to establish a resonance with it, and must not go against the Dao. By following Heaven’s way, the Golden Elixir can be refined.

Thus, the “Tongren” hexagram says: “First they cry out in grief; later they laugh with joy.” The Tuan Commentary of the Yizhuan—a text explaining the meaning of the Zhouyi hexagrams—says: “The junzi sometimes takes office and sometimes withdraws; sometimes remains silent and sometimes speaks. When two people work together with one heart, their sharpness can cut through metal; words spoken with one heart are fragrant as orchids.”

The “Tongren” hexagram speaks of people who share the same aspirations. Its image consists of one yin line and five yang lines. When yin lines outnumber yang lines, yang is dominant; when yang lines outnumber yin lines, yin is dominant. Thus, the “Tongren” hexagram uses the solitary yin line joining with the mature yang line to symbolize unity of heart.

So, to understand another person’s thoughts, one must use interests to make them choose among alternatives; only then can one hear what they truly say. Thus, the noble person is careful and thorough, speaking with tact and restraint, and does not speak casually. At the same time, words serve as a guide. The art of refining the elixir is so difficult—how could one fail to approach it with reverence, obedience, and care?

Chapter Eighteen: The Dark and the New Moon Join in Accord

When the end of the month and the beginning of the next meet—the dark moon and the new moon—the rhythm of Yin and Yang accords with the tally. Heaven and Earth remain in a state of undivided chaos, and the two Qi energies of Yin and Yang follow one another like female and male. Jing and Qi gradually fill and moisten; from this, the processes of generation and transformation flow freely. The wondrous changes between Heaven and Earth cannot be measured. Only by following these changes can one secure a place to dwell; the practitioner conceals their traces and nurtures Jing and Qi within.

Change begins in the northeast, where the Ji and Dou lunar lodges are located. It then follows its course, turning to the right like a revolving wheel and breathing out and drawing in the Qi that is beginning to sprout. Jing and Qi remain hidden deep within, yet signs of them appear and their radiance spreads. When the movement reaches above the Mao and Bi lunar lodges, the Zhen trigram—symbolizing thunder and activation—indicates the departure of Yang Qi. Yang Qi begins here, like the “Hidden Dragon” in the first line of the Qian trigram in the Book of Changes, symbolizing Yang Qi newly born and still concealed.

Yang Qi is established through “three,” while Yin Qi circulates through “eight”: this refers to the correspondence between the numerical principles of Yin and Yang and the changing phases of the moon. On the third day, the moon takes the form of the Zhen trigram; on the eighth, it takes the form of the Dui trigram. At the second nine, Yang Qi becomes manifest like the “Visible Dragon,” harmonious and bright. When the qualities of three and five are complete, the form of the Qian trigram takes shape.

At the third nine, one must still remain alert and cautious at night, for the Yang Qi in the tally may diminish. Flourishing and decline gradually alternate, eventually returning to the beginning. The Xun trigram—symbolizing wind and penetration—continues the movement that came before. The practitioner must guard its key points and maintain control without interruption. At the fourth nine, Yang Qi may advance or retreat, and the situation is perilous. The Gen trigram—symbolizing mountain and stillness—governs advance and retreat; action must not miss its proper moment. The twenty-third day falls at the half-moon phase, and this seasonal juncture must be carefully observed.

At the fifth nine, Yang Qi rises like a flying dragon, occupying the position of Heaven and showing signs of good fortune. The sixth five symbolizes the Kun trigram receiving Qian’s Yang, bringing the process to a close while linking its beginning and end. It nurtures many descendants, like a mother passing life down through generations. At the top nine, Yang Qi becomes excessive and ascendant, fighting in the wilderness like the “Overreaching Dragon.” When the use of nine is reached—the state in which all six lines of the Qian trigram change—Yin and Yang transform with effortless grace, following the laws of the Dao.

When Yang Qi reaches its limit, it is exhausted and then arises anew. By examining its tendencies and harmonizing its nature, Yin and Yang circulate, transform, and interact, rising and descending like the rotating celestial sphere used in ancient astronomy. The changes represented by the six lines revolve without pause and cannot be directly observed. Thus, Yin and Yang have no fixed positions: this is the fundamental principle of the Book of Changes.

The commentary says: This chapter uses the dark moon, new moon, quarter moon, and full moon—the stages of the Moon’s changing phases—to illustrate how, in alchemical practice, one follows the firing times to move through the line positions in accordance with the tallies. In the course of a year, the Moon passes through these four phases twelve times. At each of these moments, the Moon in the heavens meets the Sun. The lesser Yin (Yin energy) within the human body likewise has twelve corresponding stages, operating unseen and requiring careful observation in accordance with established principles. This is the constant pattern of Yin and Yang in motion.

The lesser Yin is hidden and obscure, beyond easy measurement. The sages traced its changes and calmly observed them within Taiji (the original state before Heaven and Earth separated and before Yin and Yang were distinguished). They could begin their practice only by modeling the natural tallies; this is why it is called “pre-Heaven.” Whenever the Moon in the heavens meets the Sun, Sun and Moon join: the Moon is beneath the Sun, while the Sun is above it. The Moon receives the Sun’s luminous essence, with its radiance directed toward the sky, and so it cannot be seen. This is like the union of man and woman, with the man above and the woman below, covered by him and out of sight. At the dark and new moon, the Moon lies beneath the Sun and its radiance has not yet appeared, just like the lesser Yin within the human body.

In the chaos of Taiji, all is within the primordial vastness of pre-Heaven, before Heaven and Earth have separated. Once the tallies have completed their course, at the third day, in the Geng direction—a direction and point in the sequence marked by the cyclical signs—faint Yang energy is about to emerge. The Yang male and Yin female follow and unite with one another. Their vital fluids are abundant and nourishing, and natural generation and transformation flow freely; the wondrous transformations between Heaven and Earth cannot be measured.

The operation of the Great Dao cannot be realized without the qualities of a sage or worthy person. The “Appended Statements” of the Book of Changes, referred to here as the “Wings,” says: “They joined their De with that of Heaven and Earth, their brightness with that of the Sun and Moon, their order with that of the four seasons, and their fortunes and misfortunes with those of the spirits and gods.” The wondrous nature of the Golden Elixir, rooted in the Dao, cannot be fathomed by Heaven and Earth or guessed at by the spirits. Why? Because the Golden Elixir is pre-Heaven Qi—the fundamental energy that precedes the transformations of Heaven and Earth. The sages knew how to join their De with that of Heaven and Earth, producing this Qi by reversing the process of creation; they also knew how to join their brightness with that of the Sun and Moon, turning ordinary methods upside down to set this Qi in motion.

The Sage skillfully follows the sequence of the Four Seasons and makes use of this Qi (vital energy), so changes of cold and heat cannot constrain him. The Sage also secretly aligns with ghosts and spirits, grasping the changes of fortune and misfortune to bring this Qi to completion; thus ghosts and spirits reveal their inner workings. This is why, although “the spirits of Heaven and Earth” are “beyond measure,” only the Sage can accomplish this. What does the scripture mean by saying, “Use it to secure oneself; conceal the form and keep it hidden”? It refers to the Dao of Kun, the yielding Yin principle represented by Kun.

Kun’s function lies in the Earth within the Kun palace: Earth can restrain the Water of Kan. Water benefits all things but does not contend with them for supremacy. The Sage can turn around and make use of water’s function, thereby receiving its benefits. The Book of Changes speaks of this in the line, “When using the six, it is beneficial to remain steadfast and upright to the end”; this describes Kun’s De (Virtue/Power).

What does “Beginning in the northeast, in the region of Ji and Dou” mean? At each new moon, the Moon meets the Sun in the region where the Ji and Dou mansions lie. Ji and Dou belong to the direction of Gen. The Gen trigram symbolizes Yin Qi entering Yang Qi, and this direction is called the “Ghost Path.” When the Moon reaches this place, it loses its light, which is why it is said to “lose its brightness.” This is like people in the world passing through birth, aging, illness, and death in keeping with the changes of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and like the alternation of cold and heat.

“Extending forth and turning to the right” means that the celestial bodies chiefly revolve to the left, while the Sun, Moon, and stars appear to turn to the right. When the Moon reaches this direction, it must darken and meet the Sun; at that time it is rounded and lustrous, like a jade disk or a jade tablet. After a day or two, the Moon continues its rightward course into the direction of Geng, and only then begins to show its light. The Moon’s dark body, the lunar po, comes into being as well. The Bi mansion belongs to the Moon, and the Mao mansion to the Sun. The Moon borrows light from the Sun, and its radiance first appears from below, like the Yang of Qian, the Yang principle represented by Qian, just beginning to emerge. The lower part of the Kun trigram is the Zhen trigram, symbolizing the Moon’s phase on the night of the third day: one Yang line below two Yin lines. Zhen is Qian’s eldest son; Yang Qi moves when its time is right, and so this is called “the third-day stirring of Zhen.”

The eighth day is the first quarter moon, corresponding to the state of “one Yin and two Yang.” The young woman within Kun (the trigram symbolizing Earth and yielding Yin) is Dui (the trigram symbolizing Lake and a young woman). At this stage, Dui receives Ding Fire and acts in Kun’s place, directing and overseeing its work. This brings Yin and Yang into harmony, from which the spirits arise. Hence the saying, “On the eighth day, Dui takes its turn.”

On the fifteenth day, the moon is full and the light of Yang shines brightly. Hence the saying, “The virtue of the three and five is complete, and the form of Qian is thereby made.” It is as though the cauldron used for alchemy has already obtained Metal and Water: Great Yin reflects the sun, as if giving birth to an essence and spirit. The human body follows the moon’s changes to bring forth the Golden Elixir. Once the elixir is in the cauldron, one must be all the more alert and cautious, as if facing danger. When it is full, guard against overflow; when it flourishes, beware of decline. Only a sage can remain cautious from beginning to end.

Xun (the trigram symbolizing Wind and the eldest daughter) takes over the direction, firmly sealing and maintaining the process. It slowly applies the Yin Talisman—the timing and methods for cultivation that accord with the changes of Yin and Yang—to enclose Yang Qi. Gen (the trigram symbolizing Mountain and stillness) governs advance and retreat. When the talismanic timing reaches the last quarter moon, the elixir gradually gathers and solidifies. The sage remains cautious and steadfast throughout. Xun continues to direct the process, firmly sealing it and slowly applying the Yin Talisman to enclose Yang Qi; Gen governs movement and stillness. When the talismanic timing reaches the last quarter moon, the elixir gradually congeals. At this point, the celestial position adds an auspicious sign: Lead and Mercury are added and withdrawn, until the Lead is exhausted and the Mercury dried up. The sixth line, fifth place, belongs to Kun; it receives and completes the changes that came before, bringing the whole process to its close. Once Lead and Mercury have both been transformed, the Golden Elixir has been refined.

Although a month is used as a metaphor for the process of cultivation, the actual work takes ten months before it can be said to have taken preliminary form. The work reaches completion after three years; with deep cultivation, it may take one cycle of twelve years. This depends on how much merit and practice each person has accumulated. As for the great sages, they can rearrange Yin and Yang, bringing feeling and nature into harmony and transforming them through one another. They set up another alchemical furnace and refine the Great Elixir in the Nine Cauldrons. The process is like setting the celestial pivot in motion anew, beginning at the Zi position and corresponding to the twelve lines as it runs its course over a month, from the dark of the moon to the new moon. When the new moon arrives, nascent Yang once again stirs in the Fu hexagram, which symbolizes the return of Yang. Hence the saying, “There is no fixed position; this is the root of the Changes.”

Chapter Nineteen: The Function of Changing Lines

At dawn on the day of the new moon, the moment corresponds to the Fu hexagram, and Yang Qi begins to move. It enters and leaves at the Zi position, corresponds to the twelve lines, and runs its course over a month. From the dark of the moon it passes to the new moon; when the new moon arrives, nascent Yang once again stirs in the Fu hexagram. Hence the saying, “There is no fixed position; this is the root of the Changes.”

The new moon of the eleventh lunar month corresponds to the hexagram Fu (Return), when Yang Qi begins to circulate. Movement in and out gradually becomes easier. Yang Qi is newly born, still weak, yet already showing a tendency toward strength and vigor. The Zi month corresponds to Huangzhong, one of the twelve pitch standards, and signs of growth among the myriad things gradually appear. Mild Yang Qi spreads, allowing the people’s lives to return to normal. This is like a branch just emerging from a furnace fire: pathways slowly open, and light comes into view. Sunlight grows stronger, and the days lengthen day by day.

In the Chou month, corresponding to Dalu among the pitch standards, the rising and descending of Yin and Yang begin to harmonize. With the growth of Yang Qi, the hexagram Tai (Peace) takes shape, in which firm and yielding forces flourish together. Yin and Yang join; Yin gradually recedes as Yang advances. In the Yin month, Yang Qi gathers and moves in season. It passes gradually through the hexagram Dazhuang (Great Strength), and by the Mao month, Yang Qi is arrayed at the eastern gate. The elm’s pods fall, and things return to their roots. The forces of punishment and virtue wax and wane in relation to one another, and day and night begin to become equal.

The hexagram Guai (Breakthrough) signifies Yin Qi withdrawing as Yang Qi advances and rises. Like a bird washing its feathers and shaking off old dust, Yang Qi clears away accumulated Yin stagnation. With the hexagram Qian (Heaven), Yang is strong and vigorous, its brightness abundant and far-reaching in every direction. Yang Qi reaches its limit in the Si month, and Yin and Yang meet midway. The hexagram Gou (Encounter) begins at this point: Yin Qi is newly born, just as the cold is already foretold when frost appears beneath one’s feet.

The cold spring at the bottom of a well symbolizes the pitch standard Ruibin of the Wu month. Though Yang Qi is at its height in the Wu month, it is already concealed within Yin; Yin Qi now takes the lead. Yang Qi withdraws from view and leaves its former position. It gathers its vital essence, holds fast to its virtue, and waits for the right moment, quietly dwelling in obscurity.

With the hexagram Pi (Obstruction), Heaven and Earth are sealed off from one another, and even sprouting things cannot grow. Yin Qi extends while Yang Qi retreats, seeming almost to vanish without a trace. By observing the balance of changes between Yin and Yang, one can discern the condition of the myriad things as they enter autumn. Even then, it is possible to preserve and nurture faint, tender shoots, allowing withered and aged things to flourish again. The young shoots of shepherd’s purse and wheat grow under the cover of Yin Qi.

With the hexagram Bo (Stripping Away), branches, leaves, and bodily forms gradually decay and diminish. The force that transforms Qi is exhausted, and the subtle Shen Qi vanishes along with it. When things reach their limit, they turn back, returning to the original source of Earth represented by the hexagram Kun (Earth). The myriad things follow Earth’s patterns, receiving Heaven’s movement and putting it into effect.

The obscure, profound, and elusive changes are at once separated from one another and interconnected. The myriad things respond to the seasons, multiply, and produce seed; this is the root of Yin-Yang transformation. Heaven and Earth stretch vast and indistinctly around us, and the beginning of change is hard to discern. One may first lose one’s way and stray from the patterns, yet later come to master change. No road stays level forever without tilting: this is the Dao of nature. Changes alternate, and growth and decline depend on one another. After Kun comes to an end, things return to Fu, circling endlessly like an unbroken ring. If rulers can receive and put this pattern to use, they can preserve it through a thousand ages.

“Hard to know its beginning” means that the starting point of this path is difficult to discern. At first one loses the right course, yet later one becomes its master. No road remains level forever, and no slope remains inclined forever; this is the natural transformation of the Dao. Rise and decline alternate, waxing and waning accompany one another. The cycle ends with the Kun hexagram and begins anew with the Fu hexagram, turning without end like a linked chain. If rulers can inherit and put this Dao into practice, they may endure for a thousand generations.

This chapter uses the process of cultivation over the twelve months of a year as a metaphor. The previous chapter discussed the changes within a month—dark moon, new moon, first quarter, and full moon—as symbols of gathering and refining the Elixir. This chapter uses the Fu hexagram to symbolize the state reached when the Elixir first begins to form through cultivation. In Fu, one Yang line is born beneath five Yin lines, signifying Yang energy beginning to return from within Yin. Sages who cultivate in accordance with this Dao can transcend the ordinary; those who follow a misguided path or cultivate improperly may lose their lives.

King Wen said, “When companions arrive, there is no misfortune. Return and retrace the Way. After seven days, return comes. It is beneficial to have somewhere to go.” The commentary explains “when companions arrive, there is no misfortune” to mean that like-minded companions come to offer support, bringing benefit without harm. “Return and retrace the Way” refers to cultivating in accordance with the principles of the Yi, by inverting Yin and Yang. “After seven days, return comes” is both a metaphor for the moon reappearing seven days after its light has vanished and for Yang energy beginning to emerge in the human body after seven days. “It is beneficial to have somewhere to go” means that by advancing in accordance with the natural momentum, one avoids error.

The “Rhapsody on the Eastern Capital” says that the sun and moon meet during “Dragon’s Struggle.” This refers to the celestial configuration around the Dipper and Tail mansions, and here signifies that Yang energy is about to return. Confucius said, “Perhaps in the Fu hexagram we can glimpse the original heart of Heaven and Earth?” People in the world do not understand this original heart. Laozi calls it the “Gate of the Mysterious Female,” the source from which all things arise; Yunfang calls it the “Gate of Life and Portal of Death,” the gateway governing life and death.

The Book of Changes says, “Thunder is within the earth: Fu.” The image of thunder hidden beneath the earth symbolizes Yang energy beginning to emerge within Yin. On the day of the winter solstice, the ancient kings closed the passes and rested in stillness, forbidding merchants and travelers to set out and refraining from touring the regions. The commentary explains “merchants and travelers” as referring to all kinds of mundane tasks, and “not setting out” as stopping such activities in order to devote oneself wholly to cultivation. The Image says, “Returning before going far is a means of cultivating oneself,” meaning that a swift return to the right path helps cultivate the self. It also says, “In the midst of the others, one alone returns,” meaning that one returns alone to the right path among the crowd and thereby follows the Great Dao.

The new moon at dawn on the first day of the month corresponds to the Returning Hexagram. Yang Qi begins to circulate: this refers to the Sage’s single-minded intention. “Returning” means first lying hidden, and only then coming back. The newly born Yang Qi begins to flow and connect, free from envy and harm. “Raise a marker to reveal the subtle force of firmness” refers to the activation of the Qian Hexagram and its upright strength. The Yellow Bell pitch corresponds to the Yang month beginning with Zi, the month in which the winter solstice falls.

“Sign” refers both to the multitude and to a beginning. All things sprout from this newly born Yang Qi and gradually grow into prominence. “Spread gentle warmth so that living beings each attain their proper nature” means that, receiving the gentle warmth brought by the Returning Hexagram, all things can return to their constant course.

Shangyangzi said: “The secret of alchemical practice lies precisely here; never take it lightly. Those who study the Dao and receive their teacher’s oral instructions must also understand the three passes and three stages. Why prepare the ritual platform in advance? Because the medicinal substances must first be gathered. Once gathered, let the Qi mechanism flow freely back and forth, then practice refining the self—the cultivation of one’s nature and the nurturing of oneself. When gentle warmth spreads and a faint heat penetrates the whole body, this is the first stage of the initial pass.

“When it is time to work at the furnace, act in accordance with the moment and carry the intention forward, opening a passage. Do not overstep, and do not rush ahead. Harmonize Yin-Yang, gradually drawing in the radiance, and assume an ever lower posture. The Great Lü pitch corresponds to the Ox month, when the days begin to lengthen. This is the second stage, of the middle pass.

“When the Great Cu pitch is in season, ‘look upward to bring about Tai.’ The Tai Hexagram has Earth above and Heaven below. Yin Qi is above, like water moistening downward; Yang Qi is below, like fire shining upward. Thus Yin and Yang can interact. The Wings to the Changes says: ‘The yielding and compliant occupy the upper position, while the firm and strong occupy the lower; the two Qi respond to and unite with each other, and so bring peace and joy. The man is below and the woman above; thus things prosper and prove beneficial.’

“When the positions of the Five Phases are reversed, the things of Heaven and Earth can be refined into a treasure. First put gentle Qi into operation, allowing the other to occupy the principal position; then put firm and strong Qi into operation, while I take the guest’s position. When Yang strength first arises, withdraw slightly; Yin softness then arrives in abundance. When the Metal Qi joins together, Yang Qi is thereby completed, forming the pure Yang body of the Qian Hexagram.”

Here it says that hardness and softness flourish together and Yin and Yang join with one another. This is the third stage of the “lower pass.” “Gradually passing through the Great Strength hexagram” means that the substance condenses into the reverted elixir. “Lined up at the Mao Gate” symbolizes the elm seeds ripening and returning to the root. “Punishment and virtue oppose one another; day and night begin to divide equally” describes signs appearing in the elixir and settling in the Yellow Court, the central site of inner cultivation in the human body. At this time, one must protect and nourish it, cultivating with care and undivided focus.

The meaning of the Breakthrough hexagram is that Yin Qi is driven away. Once Yang Qi has risen again, the Golden Elixir begins to form. “Qian is strong and bright” indicates that Metal Qi has become pure and Yang Qi reaches its culmination at the hour of Si. Next comes the Yin Talisman phase, a stage of cultivation corresponding to the waxing and waning of Yin. The Encounter hexagram follows, as Yin Qi suddenly envelops Yang Qi. Yang Qi is not allowed to disperse; Yin is regained within Yang, hence the saying, “Yin is the master.”

The Kun hexagram represents transformation. Its first six line symbolizes stepping onto frost beneath one’s feet, like a cold spring at the bottom of a well, and indicates that Yin Qi is descending. In the sixth month, the season of the Retreat hexagram, one should gather and restrain one’s Jing and Qi, waiting for the right moment. In the seventh month comes the Standstill hexagram: Yin and Yang no longer communicate; Yin extends while Yang withdraws, yet Yang still shines within the body. In the eighth month, the Contemplation hexagram appears. One should observe the changes in autumn Qi and let the faint, newly arising breath accumulate and grow, like a wheat sprout emerging. What has withered and aged flourishes again, like chopped vegetable roots sending out new shoots. When the transforming Qi is spent, the Splitting Apart hexagram wears down its form; when the cycle reaches its end, it returns and comes back to the origin of Kun. Yin and Yang come and go, always following the Dao of Heaven.

The structure of this book follows strict conventions: sometimes the opening signals the whole chapter, and sometimes the ending sums it up. Where there is no opening signal, the ending provides the summary; where there is no concluding summary, the opening governs the chapter. This chapter has no opening signal and instead concludes with a summary. It begins, “At the new moon, the Return hexagram,” and the hexagrams then follow in order: Return, Approach, Peace, Great Strength, Breakthrough, Qian, Encounter, Retreat, Standstill, Contemplation, Splitting Apart, and Kun. It ends with “The origin is obscure, distant, and subtle; though separated, things remain connected.” These are the only two lines, and they are exceptionally concise. “The origin is obscure, distant, and subtle” refers to Yin and Yang, two forces that are deep and mysterious, separated from one another yet connected.

“Primordial, hidden, distant, and subtle” means that Yin and Yang are so profound and mysterious that they are hard to grasp and impossible to fathom, yet their power to generate and transform far surpasses that of Heaven and Earth. “Separated yet connected” means that Yin and Yang are divided from one another, as if thousands of miles apart. But when the “Yellow Matron”—a mediator who brings Yin and Yang together—harmonizes them, distance becomes closeness. Yin and Yang join and respond to one another according to a definite pattern, bringing forth the myriad things; hence the phrase “the origin of Yin and Yang.”

Sages put the Dao into practice by using the transformations of Yin and Yang. Their workings are vast and boundless, elusive and difficult to fathom, and cannot be measured by ordinary reasoning. Sages, however, investigate these transformations and cultivate by reversing their familiar course. “First lose the way; afterward become the lord” draws on a statement about the Kun hexagram in the Ten Wings, the traditional name for the commentaries on the Book of Changes. To be yielding and hold to what is right is the way of the noble person. If one insists on going first, one may lose the right path; by following its principles, one can instead take charge of the constant Way. The Immortal Master cites and develops this idea, saying that “Yin is the host” and that one should “afterward become the lord.” Both express the principle that the Kun hexagram’s yielding nature brings benefit, like the earth bearing all things.

“Every level plain eventually becomes a slope: this is the natural course of the Way.” Water is supremely yielding and Yin in nature. Still water gathers into deep pools; when its flow meets an obstructing bank, the pool fills and then naturally overflows. Water here illustrates the Way’s natural operation. “Alternating change and increase” is like Yang energy growing from the Fu hexagram until it eventually returns to the Qian hexagram. “Decline and growth following one another” is like Yin energy growing from the Gou hexagram until it eventually turns into the Kun hexagram. Thus it is said: “At last it reaches Kun, then begins again with Fu, like linked rings revolving without end.”

“An emperor who masters and commands it endures for a thousand years” means that if an emperor can grasp and apply the Dao of Qian and Kun, of Yin and Yang, and of their advancing and retreating, even a thousand-year lifespan would not be too much. If his merit and virtue are deep and his cultivation outstanding, ascending to Heaven in broad daylight may also be among the fruits of his practice.

According to legend, in his first life the Yellow Emperor was an ordinary person and accumulated worldly blessings and virtue. In his second life he became a minister and cultivated transcendent merit. In his third life, after becoming a ruler, he relinquished the realm and the burdens of government and went into the mountains to cultivate the Dao.

Thus he abandoned the affairs of the world and left behind the burdens of government, going to a remote place of deep mountains and waters. There he found Junshan in Dinghu and refined the Great Elixir of Nine Returns, a major elixir in Daoist internal alchemy or elixir practice. Once the elixir was complete, he rode a dragon up to heaven in broad daylight. The Dinghu mentioned here is Dongting Lake. The island in the lake is called Junshan because legend says the Yellow Emperor once refined an elixir there.

Chapter Twenty: Nurturing Nature and Establishing Life

To nurture one’s nature and establish the foundation of life, one must lengthen one’s years and defer the end of one’s allotted lifespan. One should carefully consider the beginnings and endings of things, and keep their root in mind.

The body received by a person was originally empty. Original Jing, the vital essence at the root of life, spread like clouds and began to take shape by relying on Qi, the energy that forms life and all things. Yin and Yang move according to fixed patterns, and the hun and po souls find their abode through this process. The Yang aspect of Shen is called the hun; the Yin aspect is called the po. The hun and po depend on each other and serve as each other’s dwelling.

Nature governs the inside of the body, like an inner boundary; emotions govern its outside, like walls and ramparts. Only when these inner and outer defenses are complete can body and mind be at peace. At this point, emotions accord with Heaven and Earth: Qian is active and strong, and from it Qi spreads and Jing flows; Kun is still and receptive, becoming the dwelling place of the Dao. Once forceful Qi has done its work, it recedes, while gentle Qi transforms and nourishes.

The Nine Returns, Seven Reversals, Eight Restorations, and Six Abidings are terms describing the interwoven movement and return of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases. Men belong to white and women to red; Metal and Fire restrain one another, while Water steadies Fire. This is the beginning of the Five Phases’ transformation and movement. The highest goodness is like water, clear and without blemish. Though the Dao has form, it cannot be fully represented in a drawing. It transforms and spreads, allowing all things to exist in their own distinct ways.

The beginning of life is like an egg: brightness and darkness complement each other. Though no larger than an inch, it already contains the beginning of life. Then the limbs, five organs, sinews, and bones gradually take shape. After ten months, the fetus leaves the mother’s womb. At birth, its bones are so soft they seem bendable, and its flesh is smooth and supple like lead.

The commentary says: This chapter teaches that a person should first cultivate nature and then cultivate life. What, exactly, is meant here by “nature”? It is the quality of Qian, the trigram symbolizing pure Yang. When people cultivate it, Qian Yang is not depleted; essence and Qi are guarded within, and Qi then naturally arises from without. Only in this way can one refine the Elixir and enter the realm of the sage.

People in the world do not know what nature and life truly are. Some suppose that nature is clear and perceptive awareness; some take it to be the dull, stubborn heart within the physical body; others identify it with the spirit of thought and consciousness. Some say nature is something beyond grasp, or take emptiness and extinction to be nature. As for life, people casually decide what it is without realizing that the profound, obscure, inexpressible inner foundation is bound up with the teachings on nature and life, or that life is the source from which all living things continually arise and transform. They merely guess blindly and indulge in baseless imaginings. How could they thereby understand the Dao of the sages?

The Yellow Emperor said, “The nature endowed by Heaven is embodied in the human person; the human heart is the pivot that sets change in motion. A noble person who understands this principle remains at peace in adversity; a petty person who understands it scorns life.” Confucius said, “Investigate the principles of things, fully understand one’s nature, and thereby reach the Mandate of Heaven.” Mencius said, “Preserve the heart and cultivate one’s nature in order to await the Mandate of Heaven. Whether life is long or short, do not alter your resolve; cultivate yourself and await the Mandate of Heaven—this is how to establish your life.”

By the time the Dao of the sages was transmitted to Mencius, it had already been stated with great clarity. The Yi Yi (commentarial writings explaining the Yijing) says, “The sages of old composed the Yijing in order to accord with the principles of nature and life. Thus, the Way of Heaven takes Yin and Yang as its guiding principles; the Way of Earth takes yielding and firmness as its guiding principles; and the Way of humanity takes benevolence and righteousness as its guiding principles.”

The High Immortal said, “If you cultivate nature but do not cultivate life, how can you enter the realm of the sage? To cultivate life, you must cultivate nature first. This is the way to set out on the path of cultivation.”

Some say, “Buddhism cultivates nature, while Daoism cultivates life.” Can there really be two different Daos in the world? This view comes from failing to grasp the Way Mencius described as “preserving the mind, nurturing one’s nature, cultivating the person, and establishing one’s life.” To lay the foundation of life, one must first cultivate one’s nature. If one cannot understand one’s nature, how can one understand the root of life? Thus the Zhongyong says, “What Heaven bestows on people is called nature; following that nature is called the Dao.” The sages did not hold to two different Daos. The point here is that to cultivate one’s nature and extend one’s life, one must understand that nature and life are interconnected.

People do not understand what it means to cultivate one’s nature, so Lü Dongbin used alchemical refining to explain it. Those who do not understand what it means to establish the foundation of life are likewise given alchemy as a metaphor by Zhang Boduan and Xu Xun. “Be wholly sincere and single-minded, and truly hold to the Mean” describes cultivating one’s nature; “male and female join their essences, and the myriad things come into being” describes the generation of life. Gathering Jing and Qi is the cultivation of one’s nature; “Wu flows toward Ji”—with Wu and Ji representing the alchemical process in which Yin and Yang unite—is the establishment of life’s foundation.

“Consider carefully what comes last” means that some people rely on their cleverness, cling stubbornly to their prejudices, and refuse to reconsider. They believe that everything alive must die, so how could anyone live forever? They also say that sages, immortals, and Buddhas are born that way: teachers cannot transmit their attainments, and ordinary people cannot cultivate them. Such people have not thought the matter through; they are content to assume that they can only move toward death.

“Consider first what came before” means that one should first ask: Where did my body originally come from? If it was formed from the Yin and Yang Qi of my parents, then Yin and Yang Qi must be capable of sustaining life and must also be capable of making a person into an immortal or a Buddha. The cultivation of the Great Elixir—the ideal result of Daoist Neidan—is no different in its starting point from the original Qi received at birth; the difference lies only in whether the process follows the ordinary course or reverses it. Confucius said, “If you do not yet understand life, how can you understand death?” The sages understood how nature and life give rise to death and birth, and revealed the workings of Yin and Yang and the difference between following and reversing their course. Following the Qi of Yin and Yang to generate the myriad things is how ordinary people reproduce; reversing its course to form the Elixir is the sages’ cultivation. This is the meaning of “the original Jing spreads widely, relying on Qi to lodge in the beginning.”

What does “Yin and Yang set the measure, and the hun and po souls dwell there” mean? It means that Yin and Yang, as the governing pattern of movement, are the foundation in which the hun and po souls reside.

“Yin-Yang as the measure, the dwelling place of hun and po” means that the laws governing the movement of Yin-Yang are the foundation on which hun and po abide. Yin-Yang take hun and po as their substance, while hun and po dwell in accordance with Yin-Yang. The Li trigram symbolizes the soul of the sun, and the Kan trigram symbolizes the po of the moon. The po is Yang within Yin, governed by Wu Earth; the hun is Yin within Yang, governed by Ji Earth. Hun and po serve as each other’s dwelling places, and through them Yin and Yang blend with one another.

Nature governs inner essence, causing it to gather into a foundation; emotion settles external Qi, as if building walls and an outer enclosure. The “city” is the covering that holds the vital radiance, while the “enclosure” is the inner chamber of alchemy. At this stage, nature, symbolized by Qian, stirs into firm uprightness, and essence and Qi unite as one. Emotion, symbolized by Kun, grows still and restrained, becoming the dwelling place of the Dao. The firm, upright Qi acts once and then withdraws; the gentle, transforming Qi spreads everywhere, nourishing all. The elixir forms in the crucible and is perfected through repeated refinement.

“Returning nine times” means that the Earthly number four generates metal, while the Heavenly number nine completes silver. The Dragon and Tiger unite, and the Qi of gold and silver returns to the crucible; hence the name “returning nine times.” “Reverting seven times” means that the Earthly number two generates fire, while the Heavenly number seven completes cinnabar. Hun and po cling to one another, and the essence of cinnabar and fire reflects back into the crucible; hence the name “reverting seven times.” “Returning eightfold” means that the Heavenly number three generates wood, while the Earthly number eight completes mercury. Wu Earth and Ji Earth unite, and the essence of wood and mercury returns to the crucible for refinement; hence the name “returning eightfold.” “Dwelling sixfold” means that the Heavenly number one generates water, while the Earthly number six completes lead. Nature and emotion respond to one another, and the subtle essence of lead and mercury returns to the crucible to abide there; hence the name “dwelling sixfold.”

“Male white, female red; metal and water held together” means that the man symbolizes the wood of the Azure Dragon, while the woman symbolizes the metal of the White Tiger. Refined by the vital essence of Li fire, both ultimately turn red.

“Regulate Water and stabilize Fire” means adjusting what is added or reduced according to the amount of Water, then carrying out the refining according to the strength and duration of the Fire’s working. The altar and the setting for cultivation must be clean and solemn, and the ingredients must be pure and correct. This is the initial stage in which the Five Phases undergo transformation.

“Highest goodness is like Water” means that Water contains Metal and can produce “beautiful Water,” water of exquisite purity. One must draw out its clearest part and keep it entirely undisturbed and free of impurities for transformation to occur; hence it is called “highest goodness.”

“The forms and images of the Dao” means that male and female are the bodily forms of the Dao, while Qian and Kun—Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang—are its symbols. From the interplay of forms and symbols, the True One Qi, the pure, original vital energy, can arise. Yet it cannot be fully grasped through bodily form alone, nor depicted through images alone. These forms and symbols therefore follow the pivotal patterns of transformation, occupy different directions, and govern growth and decline. Jia and Yi belong to the East, while Geng and Xin belong to the West; thus they are said to “dwell apart, each in its own place.”

“Shaped like an egg” means that the Reverted Elixir, formed through internal alchemy, has a definite shape. “Black and white correspond” means that Yin and Yang are matched. “One inch in length and breadth” means that when the Elixir first congeals, it is as small as a grain of millet, then gradually grows to about an inch. At this stage, not only is the spirit chamber—the place where the internal Elixir is said to congeal—filled, but warmth also spreads through the limbs, nourishing the five organs and bringing ease to the sinews and bones.

When cultivation is complete after ten months, the Elixir congeals into a bodily form and leaves its original womb; this is called the Yang Shen, the spirit formed through cultivation and believed capable of leaving the physical body. The Yang Shen takes shape from precelestial Qi, so its bones can bend and soften, and its flesh is as smooth and fine as lead powder, a cosmetic powder used by women in ancient times. It differs from the ordinary body formed from postcelestial essence and blood: that body has heavy bones and coarse flesh and cannot transform.

“The muscles are smooth and soft like lead powder.” Here, “lead” refers to lead powder, also called “lead bloom” or, colloquially, face powder. It was white and smooth, and women in ancient times used it to adorn their faces and brighten their skin. What is more, the Yang Spirit—the spiritual form produced through cultivation—is itself condensed from innate true lead Qi, so it should be all the more like this. This echoes the phrase “nourish the self within” in Chapter Six.

Chapter Twenty-One: The Transformative Response of the Two Qi

A fire mirror, an instrument for kindling fire, can draw fire because sunlight shines upon it and makes it emit a flame. And without the light of the stars and moon, how could a water mirror, an instrument for collecting water, condense water? The Yin and Yang Qi are subtle and profound, yet they can still respond to and transform one another. How much more so within the human body, where they are already close at hand: the key lies only in the space of the heart and chest. Yin and Yang correspond to the sun and moon, while water and fire are signs of their workings.

The commentary says: The fire mirror belongs to Yang and contains Qi, so it can respond to the sun and produce fire. The water mirror belongs to Yin and contains Jing, so it can respond to the moon and produce water. The sun and moon hang high in the sky, while the fire mirror and water mirror are much smaller; yet the two Yin-Yang Qi can still respond to and transform one another. How much more so in the human body, where true Yin and true Yang are close at hand in the heart and chest, readily accessible—how could they fail to connect and bring about transformation? It is only that later practitioners have not obtained the correct method.

The Yin and Yang within the human body correspond to the sun and moon in the heavens. The water and fire revealed by the fire mirror and water mirror may be compared to Jing and Qi within the body. Even inanimate objects can respond to one another; living beings, endowed with awareness and spirit, can naturally interact as well. Among all things between Heaven and Earth, humans are the most spiritually perceptive. Even those of low status or limited understanding know the principle by which Yin and Yang generate the myriad things; without being taught, they follow this pattern to reproduce and sustain life. Ordinary people, however, understand only how to follow the Way of Yin and Yang to produce the myriad things. To turn the Way of Yin and Yang to the opposite direction is difficult to understand without a teacher’s transmission. This so-called “reverse use” of Yin and Yang means refining Jing and subduing Qi, thereby forming the Elixir.

This chapter focuses on explaining how the two Yin-Yang Qi can respond to and connect with one another, giving rise to transformation and creation.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Three Essential Treasures

The ears, eyes, and mouth are called the “Three Treasures.” In cultivation, their activity should be drawn inward, so that the senses and speech do not pour outward. The practitioner’s mind and spirit, like those of a “Perfected Person,” sink into the depths while resting calmly within the compass. Here, “compass” refers to the principles that guide internal refinement. Even when turning or bending, one remains attentive in hearing and sight; every opening and closing accords with those inner principles. In this way, the movements of body and mind gain a central pivot, and continue without interruption through both stillness and motion.

The Qi symbolized by the Li trigram circulates within and sustains the body; the action symbolized by the Kan trigram does not rely on keen hearing to observe the world outside. Speech, symbolized by the Dui trigram, should also be restrained. Speak little, and bring yourself into accord with the state of natural undifferentiatedness. Once the ears, eyes, and mouth have all been gathered inward, relax the body and dwell in a quiet chamber. Entrust your mind to emptiness, and make having no attachments your abiding state.

Even when faced with situations that are hard to judge and give rise to doubt, do not let yourself be shaken. Keep the mind and spirit focused, and do not let them roam at will. In sleep, let spirit and body embrace one another; upon waking, attend to the persistence and changes of the inner life force. The complexion gradually grows lustrous, and the sinews and bones grow firm. Only after clearing away the various baneful Yin energies can the upright Yang Qi be established. With continued cultivation, the movement of Qi may come to flow like clouds and rain.

The movement of Qi flows on without end, like spring rain nourishing all things, or like water released as ice and snow melt. It travels from the head down to the feet, then eventually rises again; moving up and down, it reaches without limit and fills the whole body. Returning to the source is a sign of the Dao; gentleness and weakness are the foundation of De. Cultivation is like farming: little by little, one removes accumulated impurities and brings even the finest details into harmony and free flow. Once turbid Qi has been cleared, a path toward clarity opens; after a long darkness, things gradually become visible.

The commentary says: This chapter explains in detail the essentials of refining the Elixir in a secluded chamber. After receiving the master’s oral instructions, those who study the Dao should recite this chapter ten thousand times, reflect on each sentence repeatedly, and examine every word carefully rather than reading it casually. Even grasping the meaning of a single word can gradually bring one’s understanding into clear flow. Once turbid Qi has been cleared, a path toward clarity opens; after a long darkness, things gradually become visible.

A commentary says that this chapter explains in detail the key techniques for entering the quiet chamber to refine the elixir. After receiving the master’s oral instructions, students should recite the chapter ten thousand times, reflecting repeatedly on each sentence and examining every word with care; they must not rush through it. Missing even a single word can make it difficult to refine the elixir successfully. This is the most crucial and essential part of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), a classic that discusses the cultivation of the Dao and the refining of elixirs. Some of its contents cannot be revealed in words, for Heaven keeps them hidden.

People are not born with an unkind nature. But as they grow older, few can avoid being led astray by indulgent companions and unreliable friends, unless they have exceptional natural gifts and the resolve to hold fast to themselves. External sights and sounds, along with inner preferences and desires, can all confuse the mind. Everything encountered through the “six roots”—the six faculties through which we perceive the world—is liable to stir attachment. The things people do day and night often harm both body and mind. The greatest dangers come from the ears, eyes, and mouth: the ears hear sounds, the eyes take in sights, and the mouth craves flavors. Thus, good fortune declines through attachment to beauty, calamity follows in the wake of fame, and illness enters through food and drink. People pass their days in a daze, as if drunk or dreaming, caught in an endless cycle.

Many who study the Dao fail to attain it because companions tempt them through the ears, eyes, and mouth, gradually leading them to lose their original nature. The Immortal Master calls the ears, eyes, and mouth the “Three Treasures” to teach people to cherish them and not let them run wild. One should therefore restrain the senses and prevent them from scattering outward.

When entering the chamber for cultivation, one may gather the medicinal ingredients and refine the elixir only after the work of cultivation has fully taken effect and the six roots have settled. The “True Person” mentioned here refers to “Earth of the Self,” a symbolic term in Neidan. “Diving into the deep abyss” means using Earth of the Self to restrain Water in order to obtain the elixir. The “center of the compass” in “drifting and guarding the center of the compass” is also called the “cavern of transformation”; it refers to the central place in Neidan cultivation where transformation is symbolically brought forth. The Great Elixir is refined within the brief moment represented by this talisman, so the utmost care and secrecy are essential. “Drifting” means remaining quiet at all times while still responding to things, never leaving the state of cultivation even for an instant. “Guarding” means diligently turning one’s gaze inward and waiting with sincere concentration. These two lines are also among the most crucial passages in the Cantong qi. Putting them into practice is like wielding a great axe: it demands the fullest effort.

For this reason, the subtle words and methods transmitted by true immortals and sage masters have, for thousands of years, been understood by very few. Shangyangzi explains their principles in detail, hoping that everyone may understand them and follow the Dao.

“Turn inward in winding ways to see and hear” means observing and listening with care and subtlety. As the key passages of the Cantong qi say, this requires sustained, practical effort. It does not mean dulling or shutting off sight and hearing, but looking closely within and attending to the opening and closing of Wu Earth—symbolizing Yang Earth, the force that governs opening and closing—so that it is not obscured, and bringing it into accord with Ji Earth, which symbolizes Yin Earth and complements Wu Earth, as though the two were absorbing one another. Ji Earth’s nature is prone to agitation and loss of control, so it must be regulated by Wu Earth as its pivot. Hence it is called “the pivot and hinge for Ji.”

“The movements of activity and stillness do not run out” means that the way of Ji Earth proceeds directly in activity and remains focused in stillness. If it is used well, it will not be depleted. “Let the Qi of Li receive the nutritive and defensive Qi” means turning the gaze inward. “Kan does not employ keen hearing” means listening inwardly with the ears. “Dui joins without speaking” means speaking little and, through regulating the breath, following the undivided natural process of transformation. Only by regulating these three points can one ease body and mind and settle in a quiet room.

“To relax the body” means to be at ease and not tire the body. An “empty room” is orderly and still, free from distractions of thought. “Let the will go and return to emptiness” means setting down the mind and intention and returning to emptiness. Emptiness is regarded as the source from which Qi—the vital energy spoken of in Daoism—arises. It is what is meant by saying that the “primordial Qi before Heaven” comes from emptiness. To obtain this Qi, one should gather in one’s thoughts and seek it with undivided attention. The phrase “let thoughtlessness be the constant state” deserves particular attention: in cultivation, the absence of distracting thoughts is to be the norm.

“The True Person sinks into the deep abyss” calls for responding in a state of thoughtlessness; “drifting freely, keeping to the center of the compass” likewise calls for waiting in a state of thoughtlessness.

“Breathing enfolds and nourishes”: this is achieved by entering a state free of thought. “The three natures unite”: this too requires entering through freedom from thought. The practices of sensing, waiting for the right moment, bringing about the union, and entering the proper state are all difficult, so they should be treated as daily cultivation. “The proof is difficult to shift” means that Wu Earth, symbolized here by the White Tiger, is prone to change and hard to steady. When it is joined with Ji Earth, it must not be disturbed or altered at will. If the mind’s attention wavers even slightly, unusual effects may follow.

Earlier the text spoke of “freedom from thought”; here it says to keep the mind focused and not disturb things at will. Is this not something worth pondering carefully? “In sleep, spirit and vital energy embrace” means that the mind does not scatter or move recklessly. When sleep comes, spirit and Qi naturally embrace and become one. One must also remain alert and discerning at all times, observing whether that single Qi endures or disperses. Only at this stage of alchemical cultivation does one personally experience its effects.

I once heard my master teach this essential passage and found its principles difficult to grasp. Recently, while practicing according to it on the southern side of Mount Daluo, I began to find it easier. Above all, one must keep cultivating without interruption; only then can the work be brought to completion. Thus the Immortal Master explains when to gather the ingredients and carry out the firing process, to remind practitioners that they must not make the slightest mistake. From “the color grows moist” onward, every sentence must be understood in practical terms; none should be passed over lightly. These are all effects and signs that arise naturally after attaining the Elixir.

Though practitioners of this Way live in the evil age of the Five Turbidities, a world filled with impurity and vexation, what they cultivate is a transcendent path. Persist without wavering, and in time the work will be accomplished. Do not abandon the path halfway because of a small demonic obstacle. The turbid place itself is the road to clarity; after prolonged darkness, light will come.

If one can realize the sacred Dao and complete the path to immortality, it can be achieved in a matter of days. Its efficacy is so wondrous and swift that it is called the “Divine Elixir.”

Chapter Twenty-Three: Side Paths Yield No Results

People in the world delight in pursuing minor arts, yet do not understand how deep and far-reaching the Great Dao is. They abandon the proper path for crooked shortcuts, eager to succeed at once, only to find themselves blocked and unable to progress. This is like a blind person without a staff or a deaf person unable to hear music; like diving underwater to catch pheasants and hares, or climbing a mountain to look for fish and dragons; like sowing wheat but hoping to harvest millet, or using a compass to draw a square. They exhaust their strength and wear down their spirit, yet see no results even after a whole year. The methods of ingesting and cultivating are actually straightforward; their principles are concise, not complicated.

The commentary says: The “minor arts” people pursue are not the Great Dao. When people’s minds are narrow, they cannot understand the Great Dao. The Dao is vast enough to encompass Heaven and Earth; its principles are profound and wide as the sea. It is already difficult for people to grasp the Great Dao, and if they are first misled by those who teach it blindly, their preconceptions make it even harder for them to hear the proper teaching.

Some people become obsessed with “cai zhan,” a side-path practice that claims to replenish oneself through sexual intercourse between men and women. This means abandoning the proper path for a crooked one. Others take medicines in hopes of becoming lighter and ascending to immortality; their haste instead obstructs their cultivation. To deplete Jing and Qi without cultivating one’s nature is like being blind without a staff. To use talk of the Dao to show off one’s debating skill is like a deaf person listening to music. To dive underwater to catch pheasants and hares—why not investigate the transformations of the Five Phases and the principles of following and reversing their course as taught in the Cantong qi? Climbing a mountain to seek fish and dragons is like sitting idly and hoping to become an immortal. Sowing wheat while hoping to harvest millet, or using a compass to draw a square, are all cases of methods that do not fit their aims. Such efforts only exhaust one’s strength and wear down one’s spirit. Without the guidance of a clear-sighted teacher, one may see no results even after a whole year.

The “Fushi Method”—a cultivation method involving ingestion and the regulation of Jing and Qi—is easy to understand and not at all complicated, as the ancient immortals put it: “To subdue Qi is not simply to ingest Qi. To ingest Qi, one must first subdue Qi. Ingesting Qi alone cannot bring long life; the way to long life lies in subduing Qi.” These words are a truly subtle oral instruction, intended to be passed on to cultivators at an advanced level.

The flowing pearl in the sun—a numinous substance akin to mercury—continually seeks to escape control. When Golden Florescence (the essence of gold) is finally obtained, the two turn to depend on one another. They become a white liquid that hardens as it condenses. Golden Florescence acts first, melting into water in an instant. Like horse’s teeth and langgan, a jade-like mineral, Yang Qi then arrives to harmonize it, and the natures of Yin and Yang naturally come into accord.

When Yin Qi is pressed and urged, it condenses and hardens. Golden Florescence acts first, melting into water in an instant. Like horse’s teeth and langgan, a jade-like mineral, Yang Qi then arrives to harmonize it, and the natures of Yin and Yang naturally come into accord. Pressed and urged, Yin Qi is then gathered up and stored within the Gate of Sealing, the aperture closed and restrained during the refining process. A loving mother raises her children, and an obedient son repays her care. A stern father issues commands, teaching and admonishing his descendants.

The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) take their turns in power, restraining one another and thereby bringing the myriad things into being: Fire can melt Metal, and Metal can cut Wood, allowing Wood to flourish. “Three, Five, and One” refers to various subtle factors converging into one, the purest essence between Heaven and Earth. Its mysteries can be conveyed through oral instructions, but are difficult to set down in books.

The Zi position turns to the right, and the Wu position revolves eastward. The Mao and You positions mark the boundary, distinguishing host from guest. The Dragon calls to the Tiger; the Tiger draws in its essence. They drink one another in, each coveting the other’s essence, then join together, swallowing, chewing, and taking each other in.

Yinghuo (Mars) holds its place in the west, while Taibai (Venus) stretches across the sky. Wherever the force of slaughter reaches, what does not fall? The civet watches over the mouse, and the birds fear the hawk. Each fulfills its role; who would dare make a sound?

Without understanding these principles, one cannot speak of them freely. Some have spent all their family wealth and left their wives and children impoverished. From ancient times to the present, tens of millions have pursued this Way, yet few have truly found a meeting of minds, and still fewer have succeeded in cultivation. Searching far and wide for precious substances only leads one away from the Dao.

The commentary says: This chapter clearly identifies the flowing pearl and Golden Florescence as substances of Yin and Yang, and also reveals the crucial methods of refinement. Its explanations are detailed and to the point. Yet although instructions for the Elixir have been handed down, since ancient times very few have truly encountered the Way and succeeded in cultivation. Searching widely for precious substances only leads one away from the Dao.

The commentary says: This chapter clearly identifies the “flowing pearl” and “golden flower” as two things belonging to Yin and Yang, and further reveals the hidden essentials of the firing process. What the text discloses is already quite detailed, but the crucial oral instructions are difficult to convey in writing.

Shangyangzi then clarified this meaning once more and composed a verse:

The Sun’s flowing pearl—mercury in alchemical terminology—belongs to the Li trigram. Within Li dwells the sun-crow, the golden crow in the sun, symbolizing Yang essence and energy. The Maiden of the Li Palace, an alchemical term often used to refer to mercury, is not a beautiful woman with a visible form. Though the sun conceals its radiance, its essence is called the Qian Father, the Yang root symbolized by the Qian trigram. Cinnabar contains mercury, and mercury is the root of cinnabar.

People in the world, drawn by the six thieves—a common Buddhist and Daoist metaphor for the six sensory desires that disturb mind and body—go digging for the flowing pearl. Yet the pearl sometimes escapes and disperses; at other times it flows out like dragon’s spittle. Gold originally belongs to the Dui trigram, but resides in the Kan trigram, where it gives rise to radiance. The true water within Kan can subdue the cinnabar of the Li trigram. Restrained by gold and water, mercury undergoes transformation and becomes a white liquid. When the time is right, the firing process begins. Gold returns to its proper place and first gives forth its radiance.

True earth, an alchemical term for the earth nature that brings things into harmony, is called “Ji.” Ji requires the Divine King to preside over it and is also called the Earth Spirit. It wells up into a jade platform, ascends to a high seat, and reveals its bare feet; the golden flower then turns into water. In an instant, its color resembles horse teeth, and it becomes as translucent as stalactite and jade.

Qian Yang, the Yang energy symbolized by the Qian trigram, comes as a guest seeking a companion. Yang nature and Yin feeling unite, warmly entwining and joining together. Yin is pressed by Yang, while Yang is constrained by Yin: one urges, the other binds, and so Yin energy is gathered in and stored.

The space between the two kidneys is called the “Gate of Restraint.” Within it are one Yin and one Yang, one Qian and one Kun. Gold is like a loving mother: gold gives birth to Kan water. Water is the Gold Lord, also called the filial son. Wood is like a strict father: wood gives birth to cinnabar and mercury. The son then gives birth to the grandson, and the generations continue in succession.

If the mind is not wholly focused, then even strict commands and regulations will throw the Five Phases out of order, reversing the workings of generation and restraint. The alchemical substances represented by terms such as lead, mercury, cinnabar, and silver depend on one another and return to central Earth. When Fire is strong, it can generate Earth, and Earth is the mother of Metal; yet when Fire blazes too fiercely, it can melt Metal. Wood fears Metal’s restraint, while Metal is also tempered by Fire. Only after these transformations can Wood grow again in abundance.

The southeast adds up to five, with three assigned to Wood and two to Fire. The northwest also adds up to five, with one assigned to Water and four to Metal. In the center, Wu and Ji belong to Earth. The three directions together are called “three fives.” Numbers proceed from one to ten thousand, then extend to the trillion, the jing, and the gai. These numerical principles accord with Heaven and Earth; through resonance, they can reach the subtlest truths. To make this place and that place resonate and unite, one must understand the oral instructions.

At the Zi position, turn to the right, sometimes moving slowly and sometimes quickly; Yang Metal then comes forth at Zi. At the Wu position, turn eastward, and Yin Mercury comes forth at Wu, enclosing and preserving Yang essence. Mao and You occupy the eastern and western positions respectively, and represent host and guest. Metal and Wood are far apart, as though separated by ten thousand miles. Yet if they hold benevolence toward one another, Metal becomes harmonious and Wood is pleased. The Dragon calls and the Tiger breathes: this describes Metal and Wood responding to and yearning for one another. One is host and the other guest, joining as familiarly as companions sharing food.

The sun’s crow and the moon’s hare crave and unite with each other; a man and a woman join together, taking one another into their mouths; the tortoise and snake likewise seem to chew and swallow each other. These are symbolic ways of describing the union of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases. The southern deity Vermilion Bird and Yinghuo (Mars) remain in the west, occupying the Dui position, the direction of decline and destruction. One must be especially careful in refining and cultivating Metal’s De, leaving no room for error. Conceal and store the forces of life; the Qi thus obtained is called “Great White.” Its course passes along the ecliptic and finally enters the Qian Gate, the portal at the Qian position. Once the force of decline and destruction descends, the force of generation spreads in its wake.

This is like a cat catching a mouse or a sparrow fearing a hawk: each fulfills its role, not daring to make a sound. Without oral instructions, how could anyone guess the principle? Speculation is merely a waste of family wealth and leads down a deviant path. Using improper methods of gathering, replenishing, and sexual union leads astray and harms the true Dao. The offense of going astray is grave; how could one disregard the harm done to others? From ancient times to the present, many have been drawn to this practice, yet even among hundreds of millions, true teachers are rarely encountered. For this reason, very few succeed.

If one has not yet understood the principles of Yin and Yang, how could one know that the true medicines must be sought broadly among things of the same kind? If one takes metals, stones, plants, and other things that do not accord with the Dao and lack spiritual potency as medicines, they will only deplete one’s own true Qi, the vital energy of life. Such things are far removed from the Dao, as though separated from it by thousands upon thousands of miles. Later students should take the established methods as their guide. Here I have outlined the essentials, so that people may understand the profound scriptures and thereby cultivate themselves into immortals.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Examining Carefully When You Meet a Teacher

When you meet a teacher, examine him carefully: observe his words and conduct, and look for signs of his learning. Compare what you encounter with related principles, and investigate how things change from beginning to end. The Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—overcome one another, yet can also form relationships of mutual generation between parent and child. The mother nourishes and moistens; the father directs and bestows. In this way, Jing and Qi gather, forms take shape and flow into being, and even metals and stones can endure without decaying. If you examine these matters with undivided attention and do not divulge the essential instructions, you may be able to cultivate the Great Dao.

This is like raising a pole and seeing its shadow, or calling into a valley and hearing the echo. Are these not reliable signs? They are clear manifestations in the world between Heaven and Earth. Suppose someone mistakenly swallowed an inch of wild kudzu root or an ounce of croton seed: he would immediately collapse, unable even to bend or raise his head. At such a time, even if King Wen of Zhou divined with yarrow stalks, Confucius interpreted the trigrams, Bian Que applied acupuncture, and Wu Xian beat a drum and performed rites, how could they bring a dead person back to life and make him stand up and run again?

The commentary says: This chapter explains that when someone meets a teacher, he must first carefully examine the teacher’s words, conduct, and learning. To discern whether the teacher is upright or deviant, one can use the Cantong Qi as a test. If he is truly a distinguished teacher, he will understand and answer any question put to him, without hesitation or obstruction. But if he is merely a blind teacher with shallow learning, how could he bring a dead person back to life and make him stand up and run again?

The commentary says that this chapter teaches people to examine a teacher carefully when they meet one, to see what his learning and practice are truly like. They can test him by asking about the Cantong qi (an important classic on Neidan cultivation): if he is truly a renowned master, he should be able to explain the relevant questions clearly and answer without hesitation. If he is a muddled teacher, he will likely be unable to answer nine out of ten. Such teachers often invent all sorts of strange doctrines and lead people astray. Some claim that silence and wordlessness are the Dao; others teach only seated meditation and contemplating emptiness. Ask them about alchemical terms such as cinnabar and mercury, tiger and dragon, the separation of Metal and Wood, the “Zhen image of the third day,” or “reversing the use of the precelestial,” and they will not understand or know what to say.

Some foolish people in the world hear only that someone has meditated for years or visited a few marketplaces, then go about proclaiming that he possesses the Dao. How could they know that Mazu Daoyi was once admonished and awakened by Nanyue Huairang, who mocked him by rubbing a brick to make a mirror? Nor do they understand how Yin and Yang interact, wax and wane, and transform through the powers of creation and destruction. Some ordinary people remember a few scattered words from earlier teachers and speak only of Chan principles, holding forth with great eloquence. They call this the “School of Nature” and claim it is the Dao, using it to deceive the world—a particularly laughable practice.

How could they know that Chan and nature each have their own meaning? “Nature” refers to the Qian trigram’s “use of the nine”: its movement is strong and proceeds directly. To grasp it is to attain the “Treasury of the True Dharma Eye,” the Buddhist essence of the true teaching. “Chan” refers to the Kun trigram’s “use of the six”: its movement opens outward and follows what is appropriate. To grasp it is to attain the “Wondrous Mind of Nirvana,” the Buddhist essence of awakening. When Chan and nature unite, it is like using Earth to control lead; when Metal and Wood interact, it is like using lead to subdue mercury. Practicing benevolence and righteousness means nurturing Qi (vital energy) through uprightness. Thus, the transformations of one Yin and one Yang are the principles of the Yi Jing. Cultivating stillness in the Palace of Li is the foundation of the Chan school; seeking the Mystery in the Water Palace is where Neidan cultivation takes place. Though their names are divided into three, their principle is one.

If we observe the beginnings of cultivation in the Three Teachings—Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—we find that all teach that achievement requires things of the same kind to come together. This is what is meant by “using like things to illustrate one another.” “Tracing the beginning and end of things” means investigating how people and all things come into being, and the causes of Yin and Yang’s waxing and waning from beginning to end. The Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—generate and overcome one another, rise and decline in turn, and change from age to age as the foundation of all things.

The principles practiced by sages and worthies, in the end, are inseparable from Yin and Yang. What governs concealment, storage, and the nourishment of liquid Qi is the “Holy Mother,” formed through the alternating transformations of Kun and Dui. The wondrous principle that gives life and brings all things into being is the “Numinous Father,” formed through the alternating transformations of Qian and Zhen. Qi and liquid congeal into Jing (essence), flow and take shape, and ultimately form the Elixir, which is as firm as metal and stone and does not perish. In cultivation, one must examine and steadfastly preserve these Qi and liquids, allowing none to dissipate; only then can one attain the Dao.

This is like raising a hundred-foot pole and seeing its shadow, or calling into deep valleys among a thousand mountains and hearing an echo: Yin and Yang naturally respond to and resonate with one another, with wondrous results that accord with the fundamental workings of Heaven and Earth. Even plants without feeling, such as wild kudzu and croton, can poison people. The sages King Wen of Zhou, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius, as well as the renowned physician Bian Que and the worthy teacher Wu Xian, could not dispel their toxins even by divining with yarrow stalks, needling, or praying. How much more, then, must the Qi of True Yin and True Yang—things of the same kind and endowed with feeling—be able to unite and condense into a numinous Elixir when matched together?

The Young Woman of the River (an alchemical term often used as a metaphor for a nimble, elusive substance or force) is wondrous and mysterious. At the touch of fire, she scatters and vanishes, leaving not the faintest trace—as though a ghost had disappeared or a dragon hidden itself—so that no one knows where she has gone. To subdue her, one must take the Yellow Sprout (an alchemical term for a substance or force fundamental to the process) as one’s foundation.

If Yin and Yang do not join in due measure, the myriad things go against the Dao and depart from their source. A hen that incubates an egg alone will not hatch a fully formed chick. Why is this? Because Yin and Yang have not yet united, the Three and the Five (the Qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases) have not converged, and hardness and softness remain apart.

The subtle forces that bring about the transformations of the myriad things are simply the natural patterns of Heaven and Earth: when fire is stirred, it rises; when water flows, it moistens below. No one stands by to teach or direct them; they do so naturally. The movements of Qi between Heaven and Earth each follow their own order and govern one another. They cannot be altered at will.

Consider the union of male and female: hardness and softness join, and once united, they are difficult to part. They follow certain rhythms and signs; no one deliberately manipulates or controls them. A boy is born lying face down, a girl lying face up. They receive the womb’s embrace (the state in which a fetus develops in the mother) and gain life from the original Qi. These forms do not appear only at birth; they appear again at death. Their parents did not teach them to be this way. Rather, the foundations of life were set from the very beginning, at the moment of union.

The commentary explains that “the River” is a metaphor for the river of desire and the sea of passion, while the “Maiden” refers to the Yin aspect of one’s own Mercury Essence. Why is it said to be “numinous and supremely divine”? Because it can bring life into being, harm life, and also be used in refining elixirs.

When the mind is still and no thoughts arise, one’s spiritual nature remains inwardly guarded and nurtured. Once stirred, however, the mind responds to the external world, and its reactions are swift as spirit. When the external world moves, desire follows; one’s blessings may also be diminished through attachment to sensual pleasure. As soon as a thought arises, Mercury scatters as if driven by fire, like dust that is hard to gather back. Then Jing and Qi sink into concealment, Shen and Qi withdraw, and the clouds disperse, leaving a clear sky. What is called “emptiness” also appears as “form.” This is the same meaning as the words in Chapter Twenty-Four: “The sun’s flowing pearl is always ready to leave a person.” People often read past this in haste and fail to notice it, so it is cited again here and further explained. Sages’ works benefit later generations, and they often write in this way.

“To restrain it, make Yellow Sprout the root” carries the same meaning as the earlier phrase, “At last one obtains Golden Flower, and then they turn and rely on one another.” The Maiden moves with the current and is easily lost; only Yang Qi in the form of “Yellow Sprout” can restrain her. “Yellow Sprout” is primordial Qi, also called “True One Lead.” With this lead Qi as the foundation, Mercury will naturally not escape. This is the effect produced by the pairing of Yin and Yang.

If the myriad things had no Yin and Yang, they would violate the principles by which creation transforms and brings life forth, and depart from the root of the myriad things’ generation. Those who cultivate internal alchemy must establish their foundation through Yin and Yang. Only after the Qi of the True One has returned and the elixir has matured can they speak of transcending Yin and Yang. Some people in the world who do not understand the alchemical scriptures think that cultivation requires living deep in the mountains, dwelling alone, abandoning one’s wife and children, and abstaining from food and drink; or that one must be completely inactive, or must sit in meditation.

How foolish it is to take as a method of cultivating the Dao the idea that one can attain the Dao through silence alone, without using Yin-Yang, examining the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), distinguishing Metal and Wood, understanding the Dragon and Tiger, recognizing Lead and Mercury, or grasping Kan and Li! This book was written precisely to correct that error. It repeatedly explains that only when Yin and Yang work together can they be called the Dao.

For example, if a hen lays eggs without mating with a rooster, she cannot hatch chicks, however long she sits on them, because there is Yin without Yang. To hatch chicks, one must place water out at midday and let sunlight warm the eggs. With the help of Yang Qi (vital energy), the chicks can then develop fully. Without warmth, the eggs will not hatch. This is like the principle of creation in Heaven and Earth: “When pairing does not join, Three and Five cannot unite; firmness and yielding remain apart.” How, then, could the principle of ceaseless generation take shape?

It is said that there was a country inhabited only by women, with no men. When a woman wished to become pregnant, she had to choose a date and bend over to look into the bottom of a well three times each day. By relying on the Qi of the well’s true water and forming a response through the image reflected there, she could become pregnant. Such accounts all speak of the subtle workings of Yin and Yang and the mutual resonance between Heaven, Earth, and nature.

Fire rises, while water descends; no one teaches them to behave this way. From this, the myriad things begin and each acquires its order. The Yiyi, a work that explains the Yijing, says: “Great Qianyuan is the source from which the myriad things begin, and it governs the Way of Heaven.” The Dao of Qian moves and transforms, setting each thing’s nature and life in order. Once nature and life have been determined, how could they be changed at will?

Thus it is said: “Observe the moment when female and male come together: firmness and yielding join and cannot be separated. Each has its proper measure of response; this is not controlled by human technique. The man must lie face down, and the woman face up.” This describes a fundamental principle of creation that cannot be changed. Even when people drown, men still lie face down and women face up. Their parents did not teach them to do so; it was determined from the very beginning of union.

To ordinary people, these words may seem trivial. But the author’s purpose in writing the book was to help readers understand the principles of Yin and Yang thoroughly. That is why he repeats them without tiring of the subject.

The man associated with Kan (the Kan trigram, representing the middle son) corresponds to the moon, while the woman associated with Li (the Li trigram, representing the middle daughter) corresponds to the sun. The sun bestows its blessings through its light, and the moon spreads its radiance. The moon receives the sun’s illumination and changes, yet its own form is not diminished. If Yang Qi loses the measure that keeps it in harmony with Yin Qi, Yin Qi encroaches upon the sun’s light. The phases of darkness and new moon then alternate, and the sun and moon eclipse one another. Yin and Yang press against each other; Yang Qi wanes as Yin Qi bears down on it, and calamity follows.

Men and women work together, like earth nurturing all things within it and enabling them to grow. Female and male mingle, each seeking what belongs to its own kind. Metal transforms into water, whose nature is to flow and circulate; fire transforms into earth, which prevents water from passing through. The man acts outwardly, while the woman remains still and gathers inward. If giving exceeds its proper limit and disregards due measure, the woman will restrain the man. The Po (the Yin spirit associated with the body) checks the Hun (the Yang spirit associated with mental activity), keeping it from excessive abandon. When Yin and Yang are in harmony, neither cold nor hot, and advance and retreat are timely, each side finds its proper balance, and the corresponding signs appear.

The commentary says: Kan belongs to Water and symbolizes the moon and the middle son; Li belongs to Fire and symbolizes the sun and the middle daughter. The Kan trigram is Yin on the outside and Yang within, while the Li trigram is Yang on the outside and Yin within. The phrase “attain licentious excess” later in the original does not connect clearly with the surrounding meaning, so its intended sense is difficult to determine.

The commentary says: The Kan trigram symbolizes water, the moon, and the middle son. The Li trigram symbolizes fire, the sun, and the middle daughter. Kan is yin on the outside and yang within. It contains Wu Earth, which symbolizes Earth’s qualities of harmonizing and sustaining, and is used to store and nourish Metal and Water and nurture the yin po, or corporeal soul. It represents inner feeling and is the gateway to the Dao and righteousness, like white held within darkness. Li is yin within and yang on the outside. It contains Ji Earth, which provides a place for sand and mercury—alchemical substances used in refining the Elixir—and governs the yang po. It represents the fulfillment of one’s nature and is the foundation of benevolence and virtue, like black held within white.

The moon has no light of its own. Only after receiving the sun’s illumination does it shine again; as the sun and moon move, neither diminishes. “Yang loses its accord”: here, “accord” means harmony, and refers to yin Qi encroaching on the brightness of yang. “An eclipse” refers to the moon obscuring the sun’s light around the dark moon and the new moon. When the sun and moon directly oppose one another, the sun is above and the moon below; the moon temporarily blocks the sunlight. This is called “yang wanes in form, and yin encroaches, bringing calamity.”

This illustrates how people often fail to preserve their original true yang and are worn down by encroaching yin Qi. If the female and male each find their proper kind, and yin and yang respond to one another in reversed order, man and woman can assist each other and thereby seek the pivot of transformation and generation in reverse. In this way, Metal in Dui can transform into Water in Kan. Without true Earth to harmonize it, however, Kan Water will flood everywhere. Li contains fire, which can generate Ji Earth to restrain Kan Water and keep it from flooding. Thus, for men, Daoist cultivation emphasizes the strength and vigor of Qian, expressed outwardly; for women, the cultivation of virtue emphasizes Kun’s yielding stillness, held inwardly. If Qian’s yang is expressed outwardly in excess, it will be restrained by Kun’s yin.

“Po guides hun” means that po belongs to Dui and hun to Zhen. Zhen is male and Dui female, symbolizing the union of yin and yang. “Without excess or indulgence” means that cold and heat, advance and retreat, must be brought into balance and joined at the proper time, without error. Only then can the male and female each display their corresponding signs, making the results of cultivation visible.

This chapter mainly explains that when the movement of Yin-Yang loses its proper measure and becomes excessively one-sided, calamity follows: if winter brings the climate of summer, there will be scorching heat; if summer brings the climate of winter, there will be severe cold. It is like a man setting out while a woman does not follow: Yang Qi moves first, but Yin Qi does not respond. Yin and Yang fall out of balance because their movement has gone too far and become excessive without restraint. Practicing the methods of the Elixir is not easy, and must never be taken lightly.

In the past, Pure Yang Weng (Lü Dongbin) received instruction from the immortal Zhongli. He then entered a quiet chamber to practice and applied himself repeatedly, but because his timing and control of the firing process were not yet fully refined, he never succeeded in forming the Elixir. Later, he also received the Mirror for Entering the Medicine from the Perfected Man Cui Xuanyuan, and only then did he fully understand. He wrote in a poem, “After reading Master Cui’s Mirror for Entering the Medicine, my understanding suddenly became clearer.” He continued practicing and soon achieved success. Later, some foolish people took doing nothing and keeping the mind empty of thought to be the Dao. They merely drifted through life in confusion, leaving life and death to chance. Such people are great offenders within the religious tradition; how could they be said to be cultivating the Dao?

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Four Elements Blended in Chaos

Cinnabar (mercury sulfide, symbolizing Fire) must join with the essence of Wood; Metal is needed to bring them together. Where Metal and Water join, Wood and Fire also accompany one another as partners. The four—Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire—blend into one whole and are called the Dragon and Tiger: the Dragon belongs to Yang and takes the odd numbers; the Tiger belongs to Yin and takes the even numbers.

The Five Phases also correspond to the body’s organs and to family relationships: the liver belongs to blue-green Wood and is the father; the lungs belong to white Metal and are the mother; the kidneys belong to black Water and are the child; the Li trigram belongs to red Fire and is the daughter; and the spleen belongs to yellow Earth and is the ancestor. The practice begins its operation at Zi and Wu; Wood, Fire, and Water ultimately return to Wu and Ji, which represent Earth at the center.

“Four elements blended in chaos” refers to the mutual blending of four symbolic elements. “Zi and Wu” indicate key positions in the movement of Yin and Yang during cultivation, while “Wu and Ji” represent Earth at the center.

The commentary says: Shangyangzi holds that the most subtle and precious things in the human body are Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy)—the refined substances and energetic processes that sustain human life. The Scripture of the Heart Seal calls them the “upper medicine,” while Zhang Ziyang calls them the “treasures of life.” The writings of the Immortal Elder share some features with these statements, but differ in other respects.

What they share is the saying, “When Metal returns to the beginning of nature, it may be called the Return Elixir.” This means that Jing and Qi must return to their original state in nature before they can be called the “Return Elixir,” the Neidan (internal alchemy) state in which Jing and Qi gather and return to their root. This is the most concise formulation, and it accords with what was said above.

The difference is that the book uses many names for the treasures within the body: Qian and Kun, Kan and Li; the female and male bellows (the interaction of Yin and Yang, like air driven by bellows); opening and closing; being and nonbeing; Yin and Yang; the sun and moon; the Mysterious Female; Wu and Ji; firmness and yielding; female and male; the Dipper’s pivot; Kui and Gang; the Crow and Hare; Hun and Po; Metal Qi; divine illumination; yellow sprouts; the River Cart; lead and silver; cinnabar and mercury; floating and sinking; white and black; the primordial undifferentiated state; indistinctness and obscurity; the center of the compass; pivots and hinges; emptiness and nothingness; darkness and deep obscurity; the True Person; the great abyss; walls and towers; Penglai; the Vermilion Bird; the Tortoise and Snake; the White Tiger; the Azure Dragon; the crucible’s pivot; flowing pearls; gold sand; mercury; the eight minerals; yellow earth; the two apertures; the dwelling of divine De; the crescent furnace; the suspended womb cauldron; the red gate; dust at the bright window; the upper and lower crescents; civil and martial fire; cinnabar and the essence of wood; the Maiden of the River; Yin’e city walls; horse teeth and railings; the forbidden gate; the measure of a knife tip; golden blossoms; autumn stones; feeling and nature; host and guest; white snow; the yellow carriage; the Mysterious Gorge; the River Drum; Zeng Mountain; the shadow cast by a sundial; stalactites; and green fluid, as well as three and five, two and seven, weights and measures, and trigrams and talismanic signs. These are all coded expressions used in Neidan texts to describe Jing and Qi within the body, changes in Yin-Yang, and the process of cultivation. Collectively, they are called the treasures within the body.

Some accounts compare the crucial places of bodily cultivation to gates; others call them the Spirit Chamber (the place where the spirit is refined), or use names such as “Steaming-Mountain,” “Sundial Shadow,” “Bell Nipple,” “Azure Liquid,” “Three-Five of the Sun,” “Two-Sevens,” “Weights and Measures,” and “Yao Tallies.” These different names all refer to treasures within the human body. Sometimes they are called gates, sometimes the Spirit Chamber or the cauldron vessel (a symbolic implement used in alchemy), and sometimes they are described through metaphors of substance and function, form and image, or advance and retreat. Thus the Way of the Changes uses the vigor of the Qian trigram and the opening of the Kun trigram to symbolize the gates of life and death, while alchemical methods use the Magpie Bridge and the Yellow Path (a symbolic route taken by the breath in Neidan cultivation) to represent the road of passage. All refer to the body’s own Jing and Qi, expressed through different provisional names.

Thus, the statement in this chapter, “Cinnabar and the essence of Wood join when they obtain Metal,” means the same as the earlier passage: “The Sun’s Flowing Pearl is always about to leave a person; at last it obtains Golden Flower, and they turn and follow one another.” Here, “Flowing Pearl,” “Maiden,” and “Cinnabar” all refer to things of the acquired state that carry Yin but lack Yang; on their own, they cannot form the Elixir. “Metal,” “Yellow Sprout,” and “Golden Flower,” by contrast, refer to precelestial Lead, which can be used to refine the Returned Elixir (Neidan).

“Cinnabar and the essence of Wood” are the Wood and Fire within the Li trigram. Fire’s father is the Jia and Yi Wood of the East. Since Wood generates true Jing, it is called the “Middle Daughter.” The Jia and Yi Wood of the East and the Bing and Ding Fire of the South form the relation of a father and daughter; both father and daughter are Yin within Yang, so Zhen Wood and Li Fire correspond.

“Yellow Sprout and Golden Liquid” are the Lead and Water within the Kan trigram. Water’s mother is the Geng and Xin Metal of the West. Since Metal gives rise to its liquid, it is called the “Middle Son.” The Geng and Xin Metal of the West and the Ren and Gui Water of the North form the relation of a mother and son; both mother and son are Yang within Yin, so Dui Metal and Kan Water unite.

Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water blend into one, while also being arranged as the “Dragon and Tiger”: the Dragon is in the East and has the number three, so it is said, “The Dragon is Yang and odd-numbered”; the Tiger is in the West and has the number four, so it is said, “The Tiger is Yin and even-numbered.”

“Wood and Fire accompany one another” means that the Dragon emerges from Fire; “Metal and Water unite” means that the Tiger is generated within Water. The Liver corresponds to the color green and the Five Phase of Wood, and is the source of Fire. The Lungs correspond to the color white and the Five Phase of Metal, and are the source of Water. The Kidneys correspond to the color black and the Five Phase of Water, and are generated by Metal. The Li trigram corresponds to the color red and the Five Phase of Fire, and is generated by Wood. The Spleen corresponds to the color yellow and the Five Phase of Earth, and is the root of the other four. Earth occupies the center among the Five Phases, so Spleen-Earth is called the ancestor of the other four. Earth also occupies the center and governs the remaining four phases; hence it is called the beginning of the Five Phases and the beginning of a single Yang.

Metal and Water, Wood and Fire, and the Dragon and Tiger together are called the “Three Things.” For these three things to meet and merge into one, they must draw on the power of the two Earths, Wu and Ji, to bring their function into effect. Wu and Ji refer to the Yin and Yang aspects of Earth. In alchemical terminology, they commonly describe the power that harmonizes and supports.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Punishment and Virtue at Mao and You

Hardness and softness arise in turn, taking their places as the seasons revolve. The Dragon is in the west and the Tiger in the east, with their positions set according to Mao and You. Punishment and Virtue converge together; when they meet, they rejoice in one another. “Punishment” governs subduing and killing; “Virtue” governs growth and arising. When the elm sheds its leaves in the second month, the Dipper’s ladle points to Mao. When the wheat grows in the eighth month, the Celestial Dipper takes its position at You. Zi lies to the south and Wu to the north, together forming the governing order. The numbers one and nine cycle back and forth; when the cycle ends, it begins again. Primordial Qi is concealed between the Xu and Wei lunar lodges, while Jing Qi is spread through the Zi position.

The commentary says that the Azure Dragon, symbolizing the East, belongs in the east, while the White Tiger, symbolizing the West, belongs in the west. These are their usual positions. “Changing their positions and dividing their places” means that the Azure Dragon shifts to the You position and the White Tiger to the Mao position. In this way, “Punishment and Virtue meet together”—the forces of Yin and Yang waxing and waning converge at the same time—and the Dragon and Tiger can joyfully unite and meet. When they meet in reversed positions and come together, the two opposing forces harmonize with each other, and their power to nourish all things is called Virtue. But if the Azure Dragon stays in the east and the White Tiger in the west, each holding to its original place and growing in strength on its own, they compete and disturb one another, and their destructive power is called Punishment.

Here, “Punishment” is a metaphor for Yin and Yang falling out of balance, and for the female and male forces meeting and restraining each other; it also refers to the Five Phases proceeding in their ordinary order. “Virtue” refers to the Five Phases moving in reverse. Punishment appears as Yin diminishing Yang, while Virtue appears as Yang joining with Yin. Punishment is a condition of abundant Yin and scant Yang; Virtue is one of scant Yin and abundant Yang.

For example, the hexagram configuration in the second lunar month has four Yang lines and two Yin lines. At this time, Yang Qi gradually grows while Yin Qi recedes. Though Yang Qi predominates, some Yin Qi remains. The abundance of Yang symbolizes the Virtue of nourishing life, while the lingering Yin still carries a destructive quality. Thus, in spring all things grow together, yet the elm’s pods fall. The same is true of the human body: in the prime of life, Yang Qi is abundant and Yin Qi scarce, and the body grows stronger day by day.

But if desire burns intensely at this time, Yin Qi will consume Yang Qi. Even if some Yang remains, it can no longer govern the body, and all kinds of illness will invade. When Yang Qi is nearly exhausted, a person may still cling to desire and strive to pursue Yin Qi. As soon as the remaining Yang encounters Yin, it too will dissipate completely, and the person will die suddenly. This is called “Virtue turning back into Punishment”: the force that nourishes life becomes one of depletion and destruction.

A person of superior wisdom, however, can take the remaining Yang Qi as the basis for cultivation and practice the Way of Returning the Elixir in time—a method of Daoist Neidan cultivation that gathers Jing, Qi, and Shen and returns them to their source—thereby restoring longevity. This is called “Punishment and Virtue meeting together.”

This is what is meant by “meeting and rejoicing.” Another example is four Yin and two Yang, the hexagram configuration for the eighth lunar month. Yin Qi diminishes Yang Qi, and although Yin Qi predominates, some Yang Qi remains. The flourishing of Yin Qi symbolizes punishment and killing, while the remaining Yang Qi governs growth and renewal. Thus, in autumn, when all things are about to wither, shepherd’s purse and wheat begin to grow.

The same applies to the human body. Near the age of sixty, Yin Qi within the body is abundant and Yang Qi scarce, and the body grows weaker day by day. If some Yang Qi still remains at this time, and one cultivates the Way of the Golden Elixir to restore it, this is called “returning from old age to youth,” also known as “long life and far-reaching vision.” This is “punishment returning to De”: turning decline and killing into the life-nurturing power of De.

At the Zi hour in the second lunar month, the Dipper’s Kui star moves to the Mao position, while the Gang star moves to the Si position. These positions lie in the southeast and symbolize vitality; they belong to De. At the Xu hour in the eighth lunar month, the Dipper’s Gang star stands at the You position, while the Kui star stands at the Hai position. These positions lie in the northwest and symbolize severity and killing; they belong to punishment. The scripture says: “The Gang star points to Chou, while its body is in Wei. The direction it points is auspicious; the place where the star stands is inauspicious. The other directions follow the same pattern.” Here, the positions of the stars serve as a metaphor for the effects of alchemical cultivation.

“Zi south, Wu north” refers to reversing the ordinary order of the Five Phases. The sages and immortals say: “When the Five Phases run in their ordinary order, the whole world is like a pit of fire; when they run in reverse, the earth is transformed into the Seven Treasures.” Water and fire must therefore be brought into harmony and made to govern one another, so that the state of “Already Fulfilled” can be reached, in which water and fire join and Yin-Yang is balanced.

Yang Qi begins at one and reaches completion at nine. Nine is the limit of the Yang numbers; once that limit is reached, it returns to one. This is the meaning of the words: “The number begins at one and ends at nine; when it ends, it begins again. Containing the origin within Xu and Wei, it spreads its essence at Zi.” The wondrous workings of the Golden Elixir are contained in these two lines. The celestial region where the Xu and Wei mansions lie is where the sun and moon meet. It is also the direction in which the first Yang begins to arise. When the Yang number reaches nine and its limit, it then returns to one.

The place where true Yang Qi first begins to arise is like the point where the tortoise and snake coil around and join together. Thus, the primordial Qi contained in Taiyi—the original Qi spoken of in Daoist thought—begins to spread when its true vital essence reaches the hour of the Rat. This also echoes the previous chapter’s point that the hours of the Rat and Horse mark the starting points of circulation.

People have only heard that the hours of the Rabbit and Rooster are times for “bathing.” How could they understand the metaphors of “punishment” and “virtue”? “Virtue” and “generation” describe the medicine coming into being over half an hour; “punishment” and “destruction” describe its loss in a brief instant. So, when entering the chamber to refine the Elixir, one must carefully guard against danger for the work to succeed. The Immortal Master likens this to the height of spring: all things are flourishing, yet the elm bears pods that have withered and died. This shows that decline must be guarded against even amid growth. Within “virtue,” one must guard against “punishment”; within “generation,” against “destruction.” In the bleak season of autumn, when all things are fading, shepherd’s purse and wheat nonetheless continue to grow. This shows that life persists even amid punishment and destruction. The text returns to these principles again and again, explaining them in detail, but its central aim is simply to obtain precelestial Qi.

“The Junzi’s Ideal Mate,” Chapter Thirty

“The ospreys call in harmony, settled on the river’s sandbar; the quiet, lovely woman is the Junzi’s ideal mate.” The male bird does not live alone, nor does the female dwell in isolation. The key to the hidden principle described here remains the attainment of precelestial Qi.

“The Junzi’s Ideal Mate,” Chapter Thirty

“The ospreys call in harmony, settled on the river’s sandbar; the quiet, lovely woman is the Junzi’s ideal mate.” Male and female come together; neither can stand alone. The Dark Warrior, the symbol of a tortoise entwined with a snake, coils around and supports itself. This illustrates how Yin and Yang, female and male, work together.

Suppose two women lived together in one room. Though both were beautiful, even if Su Qin tried to bring them together and Zhang Yi acted as matchmaker, using eloquence and every pleasing word, opening their hearts and smoothing over their differences so that they became a married couple, they still could not truly know one another, even after their hair had fallen out and their teeth had rotted.

If the ingredients used to refine the Elixir are not of the same kind, but differ in name and nature, or if their timing is wrong and the proper method is lost, then even if the Yellow Emperor himself tended the furnace, Taiyi himself controlled the fire, the Eight Lords pounded and refined the ingredients, and the Huainan Master blended them; even if a high altar were raised and a ritual terrace built, its steps paved with jade, with qilin flesh and phoenix fat prepared; even if one respectfully knelt with a written petition, pleading for the compassion of spirits and ghosts, and bathed and fasted with the greatest hope, it would still be of no use. This is like mending a pot with glue or treating a sore with sal ammoniac; trying to drive away cold by adding ice, or to dispel heat with hot water. No matter how one makes the tortoise and snake dance, one only strays further from the Way.

The commentary states: The Immortal Elder points out plainly that to refine the Golden Elixir, one must use medicines of the same kind, joining one Yin with one Yang and relying on their mutual resonance. Just as a female and a male must be paired for transformation and generation to take place, how could change arise if one remained alone? Without a male, how could a group of females continue the unceasing process of generation? To refine the Returning Elixir—the elixir obtained through Daoist internal cultivation—one must seek the primordial Qi, the fundamental vital energy that existed before Heaven and Earth came into being, and use it to accomplish the work.

These words are entirely direct and need no further repetition. The author of this book has revealed the secrets of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformations, embodied the generative Virtue of Qian and Kun—that is, Heaven and Earth—explained how the Sun and Moon unite, and disclosed the practice of reversing and applying Yin and Yang. The Book of Changes says: “Share the same Virtue as Heaven and Earth, the same brilliance as the Sun and Moon, the same order as the four seasons, and the same fortune and misfortune as ghosts and spirits. Act before the time set by Heaven, and Heaven will not oppose you; act in accord with Heaven’s timing, and you will follow the Way of Heaven.” If even Heaven does not oppose such a person, how much less will other people. The sage comprehends this Way; the spirit-like person puts it into practice.

Wherever this book is kept, the spirits of Heaven and Earth, the Sun, Moon, and stars, and the gods of thunder will often protect it. If a worthy person reverently receives the book and recites it ten thousand times, Immortals and perfected beings will descend into the courtyard and impart the highest Way. But if a foolish and base person recklessly slanders it, spirits and ghosts will secretly record his offense in the Register of Darkness, the underworld’s ledger of sins. At the least, a grave illness will afflict him; at worst, the officials of the Dark Court, which governs death and punishment in the underworld, will shorten his life, leaving him a ghost in the netherworld and plunging him into a sea of suffering for a long time. The blessings that follow good and the calamities that follow evil are plainly evident and must not be ignored.

Volume Two

Chapter Thirty-One: Sages and Worthies Conceal and Refine the Elixir

The sages of ancient times embraced the profound Dao (the Way) and upheld their original nature. They devoted themselves to refining and nourishing the Nine Cauldrons, important implements in ancient alchemy, and concealed their traces from the world. They nurtured their Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), and regulated their Shen (spirit), bringing their De (Virtue/Power) into harmony with the sun, moon, and stars. Their bodily fluids became abundant; their skin, pores, sinews, and bones grew firm. They drove out harmful influences and kept their vital energy intact for a long time. Through prolonged accumulation, they eventually transformed their bodies and became immortals.

The sages took pity on later students of the Dao. Drawing on the writings and traces of the ancients, they made illustrations and compiled books to guide future generations. They revealed the details while concealing the essentials, and used various terms to veil the text’s tangled and obscure passages. Those who came into possession of these books often treasured them for life. Fathers passed them to sons, and grandchildren took up what their forebears had handed down. Yet across the generations, people remained perplexed and never truly understood. As a result, some resigned from office and gave up public service, farmers neglected their fields, merchants abandoned their goods, and even people with lofty ambitions fell into poverty.

I felt deep sorrow over this, and so I compiled this text. Its wording is concise and its meaning easy to grasp; it explains matters plainly, without unnecessary complexity. I have set out each topic separately so that readers can verify it. The quantities of the ingredients are fixed, and the process follows a definite order. I have therefore written this interwoven text to open the key to entering the subject. Those with discernment should examine and reflect on it carefully, and devote themselves to investigating its meaning.

The commentary says: The sages of ancient times surely understood the Great Dao. For this reason, the writings left by Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor all attend to numerical principles and connect with one another in a set order. Thus, although the text uses interwoven and obscure expressions, it also opens a path toward the mysteries. Those with discernment should reflect on it carefully and devote themselves to investigating its meaning.

Most of the sages of antiquity understood the Great Dao, so the writings of Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor all discuss it. The Yinfu Jing (Classic of the Hidden Talisman) has survived to this day and contains 315 characters. Later readers, unable to grasp its meaning, made wild guesses and divided the text into three sections of one hundred characters each, supposedly concerning the Dao, the method, and the techniques. This misled the world. How could they understand the sages’ Dao?

The 120 characters of the Yinfu Jing beginning with “Observe the Dao of Heaven” present the general principles of Daoist cultivation. The 91 characters beginning with “Heaven and Earth and the myriad things are thieves” explain how to begin the practice. The 104 characters beginning with “The blind are skilled at hearing” describe the key to completing it.

According to legend, the Yellow Emperor devoted himself to cultivating the Nine Cauldrons Great Elixir at Dinghu and later ascended to Heaven on a dragon. This did not mean refining metals or plants to make an elixir. It meant concealing and gathering innate Qi (original vital energy present from the beginning) to form the Neidan (internal alchemy). Thus, “hidden refinement” does not mean “taking and refining.” Hidden refinement has specific practices, such as “harboring the mysterious and embracing the true,” “transforming one’s traces and concealing oneself,” “containing essence and nourishing spirit,” and “communing in virtue with the Three Lights.”

The seven practices mentioned above are the first things to undertake in cultivation. They are called “furnace and fire,” and also “refining the self”—cultivating and nurturing oneself. When this work is accomplished, true Qi circulates within the body and warms and nourishes it, like fire in a furnace sending up warmth. Hence the terms “furnace and fire” and “refining the self.” The body’s fluids and couli (the textures and spaces between the skin) are nurtured, the sinews and bones grow strong, harmful Qi is dispelled, and healthy Qi is preserved over time. These four practices are called “subduing Qi,” and also “refining the elixir.”

“Harboring the mysterious” means keeping within the heart the Qi of the Mysterious One (the subtle, unified original vital energy). “Embracing the true” means bearing and holding fast to the truth of Taiyi (the primal true Qi symbolized by Taiyi). “Transforming one’s traces” means restraining one’s brilliance and hiding one’s whereabouts so others cannot discern them; the fewer people who know you, the more precious it is to be truly understood. “Concealing oneself” means hiding oneself so deeply that no one can recognize you. Thus, those skilled in cultivating the Dao in antiquity were subtly mysterious, profoundly penetrating, and unfathomable. “Containing essence” means fully nurturing the essence of true Mercury, using it to refine the self.

“Nurturing the spirit” means tending the spirit of body and mind as a whole, from the outside, so that it accords with Qi (vital energy). When practice has built up to this point, the key is “resonating through De with the Three Lights”—that is, using one’s virtue to resonate with the radiance of Heaven and Earth, such as the sun, moon, and stars. De is essential in cultivation. To cultivate the Dao without cultivating De is like having Yin without Yang. When Dao and De are cultivated together, Yin and Yang naturally come into harmony.

People often believe themselves virtuous when they may not truly be so. As long as deluded thoughts remain in the heart, their conduct cannot resonate with the world. The more deeply a true cultivator embodies virtue, the less they think of themselves as virtuous. The spirits of Heaven and Earth, and the sun, moon, and stars, can naturally sense their virtue. Zhang Daoling, Ge Xuan, and Xu Xun all accumulated merit and devoted themselves to cultivation without seeking fame or profit. This is what “resonating through De with the Three Lights” means. Only after diligently refining oneself—that is, cultivating one’s own nature and mind—and accumulating virtue that resonates with Heaven and Earth can one enter the stage of refining the Great Elixir.

In the phrase “fluids and interstitial tissues,” “fluids” refers to jade fluid, or white snow, while “liquids” refers to golden liquid, or yellow sprouts. When jade fluid and golden liquid nourish the spirit chamber—the place within the body where Neidan is refined and cultivated—they strengthen the sinews and bones throughout the body. “All malign influences” refers to the Yin and baleful Qi within every part of the body; these can all be dispelled. “Upright Qi” is primordial Yang, which can endure without decaying. Through long accumulation, one ultimately transforms the body and becomes an immortal. This refers to the Yellow Emperor’s hidden refinement of the Great Elixir in the Nine Tripods.

The Record of Auspicious Assemblies says that in his first lifetime, Xuanyuan was a commoner; in his second, a minister; and in his third, a ruler. By helping the world and saving the people, he accumulated merit over a long period, ultimately transforming his body and becoming an immortal. The Yellow Emperor’s hidden refinement of the Great Elixir in the Nine Tripods refers to this as well. The Record of Auspicious Assemblies also says that after Xuanyuan’s merit and virtue were complete, he ascended to Heaven.

From the Classic of the Hidden Talisman onward, sages of successive generations wrote in turn, and their works were recorded in the scriptures. King Wen of Zhou composed the Book of Changes, explaining that Heaven and Earth are the gateways of transformation and also discussing the way of husband and wife as expressed in the Xian and Heng hexagrams. Confucius composed the Ten Wings, explaining that the Qian hexagram is strong and active, while the Kun hexagram is still, receptive, and embracing. The five thousand words of the Dao De Jing explain the meaning of “being” and “nonbeing,” as well as “the gate of the Mysterious Female.”

Zisi says in the Zhongyong: “What Heaven confers on human beings is called their nature; following that nature is called the Dao.” Mencius taught that in cultivating one’s vast, all-pervading Qi, one should make it expansive and strong, nourishing it through uprightness and allowing it no harm. The stories of Pengzu Jian Keng, the legendary long-lived figure, and Lao Peng, along with Liezi riding the wind and Zhuangzi’s great roc, all illustrate how people can advance from the way of sages and worthies to the realm of immortals.

The author, out of compassion for those who would later seek the Dao, hoped they could carry on this tradition. So he set its principles down in diagrams and books for future generations. Some teachings reveal only the branches while concealing the root; others use names and metaphors, hiding their true meaning amid many words. To “reveal” something is to hint at its general outline repeatedly. For example, the Yi says, “Qian and Kun are perhaps the gateway to the Yi”—a hint of this kind. The root’s hidden mysteries, however, must be conveyed orally by a master, and so are kept concealed. “Using names” and “hiding the true meaning” refer to the fact that these teachings cannot be stated openly, but must be expressed through metaphor and scattered among various books.

Even if perceptive people later came across these writings, they might treasure them all their lives without understanding them if they never met someone who could transmit the teachings. A disciple qualified to receive the Daoist method can succeed when the lineage continues and the teachings are passed down from generation to generation. Some people copy these writings without grasping their masters’ intentions. They pass confusion on as if it were understanding and lead others down a crooked path. In the end, they see and hear nothing, wandering among side paths, knowing not a single opening in Yin-Yang and getting the Five Phases entirely wrong.

Those who cultivate the Dao in later times but rely on written texts alone, without oral instructions, are like officials, farmers, artisans, and merchants who have lost their livelihoods. Someone who seeks office has no path into government; a farmer who wants to cultivate has no land; an artisan has skills but nowhere to use them; a merchant plans to make a profit but has lost the capital to trade. So it is with those who study the Dao: though they have books, without receiving their master’s secret instructions they have no way to begin, and will ultimately be liable to go astray.