《丹道吕洞宾》

Ah, the highest level of cultivation is marked by doing nothing artificial and taking no deliberate action. “The Golden Elixir’s seven returns” means that only after Yang Qi has stirred can one reach stillness.

The Dao has three levels: the initial, the intermediate, and the highest. At the highest level, there is no need for deliberate action. One reverses the course upward through the body’s three passes until there is a sound like “thump,” one leaves fetal breathing, and returns to the original state of primordial Qi. At this point, perceptions such as sound and smell disappear, and body and mind open out like the Great Void. Once the original nature of “Qian Yuan” is revealed, Buddhism calls this realization of true reality. This shows that deliberate practice is still required at the initial and intermediate stages.

“Returning the Elixir” means reclaiming what originally belonged to oneself. “Return” means moving from outside to inside, from elsewhere back to oneself—recovering what was lost. “Seven” is the completed number of Fire. When the movement of Yang Qi reaches its peak, it turns to stillness; when the stillness of Yin Qi reaches its peak, it turns to movement. Movement and stillness propel one another and each is rooted in the other. The art of refining the Elixir lies in seeking the moment of movement within profound stillness. What Shao Yong called “between one movement and one stillness” is the subtlest principle between Heaven and Earth and among human beings.

Those of superior De preserve their physical form through the Dao, and thus remain in a state of undiminished pure Yang. Those of inferior De prolong life through techniques; this shows that the transformations in which Yin and Yang propel one another and each is rooted in the other have already taken shape.

This is the practice of bringing Yin and Yang into harmony, cultivating in accordance with the principles of ordinary life. To cultivate a path that transcends the ordinary world, one must emulate the principle by which men and women unite and bring forth life. The “Heavenly Mechanism”—the fundamental key to generation and transformation—must be set in motion before this principle can be understood and put to use.

The Book of Changes says, “One Yin and one Yang: this is called the Dao.” The Rootless Tree likewise says that apart from Yin and Yang, the Dao is incomplete. Cultivation must bring Yin and Yang into alignment and merge Water and Fire. Seeing people withdraw to the mountains, remain unmarried, and avoid public office, worldly people assume that this is what it means to cultivate the Dao. They do not know that the Dao exists in human society, not only in the mountains and forests. Buddhist scriptures also say that the Buddha cultivated and attained the Great Dao amid the evil age of the Five Turbidities. Though the aim of cultivation is to transcend the ordinary world, its methods must be sought in human life. The ways of the world include the relationships between ruler and subject, parent and child, husband and wife, elder and younger brothers, and friends, as well as the affairs of everyday life. People follow the natural Dao to have and raise children; those who cultivate the Golden Elixir must also emulate this principle of generation and transformation. Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng said, “Follow the natural Dao to bring forth people; go against the natural Dao to form the Elixir.” These words point out the essential principle and are worth more than a thousand others. So do not speak only of stillness and Wuwei, or of sitting in barren cultivation.

To cultivate both nature and life, one must rely on and make use of two kinds of resources: “method” and “provisions.” Dual cultivation of nature and life means cultivating the mind and nature together with the root of life. “Method and provisions” refers to the practices and material support required for cultivation.

Nature (the mind-heart and spiritual nature) cannot be established without being joined with life (the root of life and the body); without nature, life cannot be complete. At the beginning, one cultivates nature to nourish life; in the end, one draws on the practices of life to bring nature to fulfillment. From beginning to end, cultivation involves both nature and life. One must therefore cultivate nature and life together, rather than cultivating only one.

The Patriarch said, “Cultivating nature alone without cultivating life is like adorning a stubborn stone with dark metal. Cultivating life alone without cultivating nature is like having a mirror that can show your appearance, but no treasure.” He also said, “Cultivating nature without cultivating life is the greatest failing in spiritual practice. Cultivating only one’s ancestral nature—the original spiritual nature—without cultivating Neidan (internal alchemy) makes it difficult to transcend the ordinary and attain sagehood, even after ten thousand kalpas.” Xiao Liaozhen said, “The dual cultivation of nature and life is the orthodox transmission; within its deep mystery, still deeper principles are concealed.”

People in the world know only how to practice seated meditation on their own, and do not understand the subtle principles of cultivating nature and life together. If they depart from the coordination of Yin-Yang and go against the patterns of nature’s transformations, they will never achieve anything. To put dual cultivation into practice, one must rely on “method and resources” supporting one another. “Method and resources” refers to the provisions needed for a path of cultivation; “both in use” means that both aspects can serve their purpose. These are especially necessary at the start of cultivation, which is why one must depend on them from the outset.

First, form a bond with a like-minded companion, so that you can support one another. Then seek a suitable place with favorable conditions, where you can make proper arrangements.

Patriarch Zhongli said, “Resources are not hard to obtain; what is hard is finding a companion.” The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) says, “Two sevens come together and support one another.” Yingchanzi said, “Like-minded assistants are indispensable. When three people share the same purpose, they should support one another with care.” “Seek a spacious house for a sound plan” means finding a roomy, suitable place in which to make proper arrangements for cultivation.

However, anyone seeking the highest Daoist state of cultivation must carefully consult a master about the Mysterious Pass, the subtle and profound key to practice, and silently commit what they learn to memory.

Choose a suitable place with care, make prudent arrangements for the practice, and keep its secrets. Set up a alchemical chamber, a quiet room for alchemy or cultivation, and prepare the implements appropriate to the practice.

“Good ground” means a place suitable for cultivation that can bring blessings and support. “Careful conduct” means carrying out one’s affairs with respect and caution, keeping the matter confidential and never daring to reveal it. Ancestor Danyang said, “When choosing companions and resources, one should also seek a place blessed with good fortune.” Shangyangzi said, “With companions and resources to help, there is greater support from the outside. Why must one go deep into the mountains to cultivate immortality?” Only after finding a suitable place should one build a meditation chamber for alchemical cultivation. All the necessary implements and daily necessities must be mutually compatible and properly suited to their purpose. “Well matched” means that they complement one another.

Setting up the furnace and cauldron is a metaphor for cultivating both the inner and outer aspects, like the two Qian and Kun, which symbolize Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang. Through refining oneself and laying the foundation, one strengthens oneself until body and mind are like a complete and stable state.

The four conditions needed for cultivation are methods, resources, companions, and a suitable place; without any one of them, success is difficult. Only when all four are in place should the furnace and cauldron be set up. The cauldron vessels take their form from the images of Heaven and Earth, hence the terms Qian furnace and Kun cauldron.

Method, resources, companions on the path, and a suitable place to practice: if any one of these four is missing, the work is difficult to accomplish. Only when all four are in place can the furnace and vessel be established. These vessels take their form from the signs of Heaven and the contours of Earth, hence the saying “Qian as the furnace, Kun as the vessel.” They are also divided into an inner vessel and an outer vessel. The Tianxian Zhengli says that the outer vessel refers to the shape of the Dantian (energy center), while the inner vessel refers to the Qi (vital energy) within the Dantian. Qian and Kun each have two aspects, corresponding to the inner and outer. The patriarchs’ phrase “two layers of Heaven and Earth, four Yin and Yang” refers to these levels as well.

Once the vessels are prepared, one must cultivate oneself and build a firm foundation. Without refining oneself, the foundation cannot be established; if the foundation is not established, refining oneself will have no effect. An old teaching says, “Cultivation of the immortals has stages, but refining oneself has no end.” The Jindan Jieyao says, “Gathering the medicine is easy; refining oneself is the hardest.” Cultivation should bring one’s innate nature and spirit into harmony with one’s Shen (spirit) and Qi, while quieting the mind and settling one’s thoughts. The Tianxian Zhengli says that only when body and mind are unified can the foundation be established; without that unity, it cannot be established.

The ancients often used the state as a metaphor for the human body: the heart is the ruler, Qi the ministers, and Jing (essence) the people. When Jing is abundant and Qi is vigorous, it is like a prosperous state with a settled populace. The Wuzhen Pian says, “Only after the people are settled and the state is prosperous can one speak of seeking battle; when the fighting is over, the sage can be seen.” Here, “a prosperous state and settled people” is a metaphor for having completed the building of the foundation. Within a person, too, there is a distinction between “the other” and “the self,” and so the furnace and vessel naturally have inner and outer aspects.

Most crucial is to forget the pull of desire when facing external circumstances, and to persist in cultivation with sharp, decisive resolve. Broadly speaking, this is like tempering a sword in a furnace: one must draw on both the softness and the hardness of Metal and Water, bringing firmness and flexibility into balance.

When regulating the firing times and drawing out or adding to the medicinal substances, if you encounter a perilous point, you should bathe at once. The saying, “A flying spirit sword, its two points; the returned elixir settles upon the peak,” means that Qi, like a spirit sword, comes into play at a critical moment, while the elixir settles at the summit. “Warming the furnace” means refining and nourishing gradually with a gentle firing time.

When you would pluck the zither or strike the bamboo—in other words, when harmonizing body and mind and putting your practice into effect—if you encounter a situation of contention, it is best to remain gentle and still rather than press forward by force.

Master the Celestial Pass, and hold the Earth’s axis within the heart. Harmonize Yin-Yang, set change in motion, activate the mechanism by which Heaven and Earth open and close, and practice the method of the Sun and Moon joining. Draw out Lead and add Mercury; light shines through the curtain. The Lead cauldron grows warm, and the Dragon and Tiger meet at the Magpie Bridge—a metaphor for the place where Qi within the body converges. At this point, danger can arise easily, so withdraw the fire and stop the talismanic workings, then practice “bathing.” Bathing means cleansing the thoughts, gathering oneself in, and withdrawing into stillness.

The True Transmission of the Golden Elixir says, “The bamboo must be struck, and the zither must be played.” A Flower on a Branch says, “I am among the flowers, striking bamboo and playing the zither, with a mind as calm as water.” Essentials says, “First strike the bamboo to rouse what has grown sluggish; then play the zither to bring the sounds into harmony.” Awakening to Reality says, “Strike the bamboo to summon the Tortoise to swallow the Purple Mushroom; play the zither to call the Phoenix to drink from the ladle.” Here, “striking the bamboo” means making the mind empty and still; “playing the zither” means filling the abdomen. The scriptures say, “Water excels at dwelling in low places and not contending; this is the true way of holding to softness.” Laozi says, “It never walks ahead of others, yet it always follows them.” Awakening to Reality also says, “I urge you not to underestimate the opponent when you face the battle.” It further says, “Let him take the lead; I will be the guest.” This is the meaning of noncontention. In contrast, Qian and Dui, and the husband and wife whose positions are reversed, express the meaning of singing and responding in turn, and working together.

After a hundred days of practice have taken effect, one can bend and stretch, transform, and respond to things as they arise. When a year of practice has come to maturity, summoning, directing, and dispatching can all be governed by one’s own will.

The Jing of the Jade Emperor’s Mind Seal says, “When the returning wind blends and harmonizes, a hundred days of practice bring efficacy.” The Essentials of the Golden Elixir says, “Once a hundred days of practice are complete, its subtle workings surpass the circulation of the celestial circuit; one can bend or extend, and respond flexibly to whatever arises.” The “one year” mentioned here refers roughly to ten months of cultivation, followed by the two periods of Mao and You. Xue Daoguang says, “Throughout the year, bathing and nurturing warmth require vigilance against danger; harmonizing Yin and Yang over ten months also calls for care and restraint.” The Song of Gathering Gold says, “During the ten months of practice, diligently swallow and take in the breath.” At this stage, the Neidan has formed and matured like a fetus, and its gathering and use are directed by the mind. The expressions “tending the fire for three hundred days” and “forming the fetus in ten months” describe the process of cultivation. At this point, the Yang spirit can leave the body, departing and returning at will. Through this, the cultivator transcends life and death and rises among the ranks of the immortals. The only work remaining is to regulate and nurture the original spirit so it can leave the body. Afterward come three years of “nursing”—continuing to warm and nurture the original spirit—and nine years of “facing the wall”—prolonged quiet cultivation.

One can steal the life-giving energy hidden within the Yin energy of the other, which symbolizes the “impulse to kill,” and use it to transform the Yin essence contained within one’s own Yang energy.

Here, “Dao” means “stealing the essential workings of creation”: taking utmost Yang from within utmost Yin. Thus the Classic of the Hidden Talisman says, “Stealing the workings: none under Heaven can see them or know them.”

One can steal the life-giving energy hidden within the Yin energy of the other, which symbolizes the “impulse to kill,” and use it to transform the Yin essence contained within one’s own Yang energy.

The Dao means “stealing the workings of creation”: drawing forth utmost Yang from within utmost Yin. That is why the Yinfu Jing says that the subtle workings of creation are like a hidden mechanism of theft, unseen and undetected by anyone in the world. This Dao brings Water and Fire to dwell together in one chamber and makes life and killing interact; the seed of life is sought within the seed of death. Shangyangzi says this is like having both a blade that can kill and a means to restore life. The Wuzhen Pian says that if one can set the mechanism of life and killing in motion, calamity can be turned into good fortune in an instant. It also says that if one understands how the killing force reverses, one will see that blessings can arise even from harm. Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—steal from one another, appropriating the creative power of Heaven and Earth in order to live forever and escape death.

I myself belong to the “Yin essence within Yang.” The Wuzhen Pian says that Yin essence within Yang is not inherently strong and vigorous; cultivating this alone only makes it weaker, a futile effort. It must therefore be transformed by the other’s “Qi born within killing.” Thus, if one obtains the essential Qi of the Kan position, which symbolizes Water and Yang within Yin, to transform the Li palace, which symbolizes Fire and Yin within Yang, the Qi of pure Qian, pure Yang Qi, can gather in the Yin essence. One may also say that pure Qian Qi can thereby gather in Feiqiong, here referring to Yin essence. The principle of using that which is other to transform oneself is so clear—why do people not consider it carefully?

Jade Liquid, a kind of essential Qi used in Golden Elixir cultivation, completes the cultivation of nature; Golden Liquid, another kind of essential Qi, completes the cultivation of life. The two phases and four phases are distinct stages of gathering and refining, and of warming and nourishing: the first two phases belong to Kan, and the latter four to Li.

The commentary says that Jade Liquid completes nature, while Golden Liquid completes life. The Jindan Jieyao says that the wonder of Jade Liquid returning the Elixir depends entirely on Golden Liquid refining ordinary lead; it is also like grafting after a sword has been cast, thereby attaining lasting youth and long life. The Jindan Jieyao further says that the Great Way of the Golden Elixir lies wholly in the joining of Shen and Qi; the hidden workings of Jade Liquid have no other secret technique. One cycle of cultivation has six phases: the first two obtain the medicine, and the remaining four warm and nourish it. This is what is meant by “two phases to gather the Mani jewel, four phases to distinguish the divine work.” “Half Kan, half Li” does not mean that the six phases are divided equally between Kan and Li. Li is empty at its center, while Kan is solid at its center; Li is Yin within Yang, and Kan is Yang within Yin. Thus one must take the solid Qi at the center of the Kan position to transform the Yin Qi in the belly of the Li palace.

At the beginning, “nonbeing” is transformed into “being”; at this point, the image of the Dragon dwelling in the Tiger’s position has already appeared. In the end, only when Wu Earth flows back into Ji Earth does one understand that the Tiger and Dragon join in the Dragon palace.

To judge whether the firing time for elixir ingredients is too early or too late, the key is to discern whether the source of water—that is, the fundamental state from which the substances arise in internal alchemy—is pure.

The key to gathering the substances lies in recognizing the firing time. As The Correct Principles of the Celestial Immortals says, without understanding the true method of gathering and refining, one may begin the work but will have no substance to gather. If the Qi of the substances has not yet reached pure Yang, then even knowing how to gather and refine them, one will not make them arise at the proper time. If the firing time is too early, the Qi is still insufficient; if it is too late, the Qi has already dissipated. Neither condition can produce the elixir.

The “source of water” refers to the fundamental Qi of “Heaven One giving birth to water.” In cultivation, purity is prized over turbidity; this also depends on whether the mind is quiet and focused. An old verse says: “When intention is settled and the spirit is at ease, the source of water is clear; when intention is scattered and the spirit is dulled, the source of water is turbid.” One must discern the firing time with constant care and practice with great precision, leaving no room for the slightest uncertainty.

In refining oneself—that is, regulating one’s nature and bringing thoughts to rest—and waiting for the right moment, one must wait until Yang Qi begins to stir in Chixian, the region of internal cultivation within the body. When the moment is urgent and one must gather the substances at the furnace, one must wait until Gui Water stirs in Shenzhou, another region of internal cultivation within the body. In Neidan terminology, “Gui stirring” signals the stirring of Yang Qi within Yin.

Qinyuanchun says: “After seven reversals, the Elixir returns.” First, one must cultivate oneself at the proper time. That time is when Yang energy has just begun to stir. “Waiting for the time” means awaiting the right moment. “Red County,” also called “Red River,” refers in the phrase “the mysterious pearl of the Red River” to the Elixir that can be obtained when the time is right. When cultivating at the furnace and engaging with the outer world, one must wait for the truly fitting moment. If an urgent situation arises, one must act as soon as a signal appears and not let the opportunity pass. “Gui stirring” refers to the first signs of Gui Water coming into being. The Wuzhen pian says, “When Lead meets Gui as it arises, it must be gathered at once.” This is what the line means. The Song of Gathering Gold says: “Know when Gui Water is born and when it appears: the interval is about thirty shichen, or two and a half days. Yang energy arises in Red County, while Gui Water stirs in Divine Land.” How could anyone seeking to set up the furnace and cauldron and practice Neidan fail to understand this?

When one observes “the dragon appearing in the fields”—the image of the second nine line in the Qian hexagram of the Zhouyi, symbolizing the emergence of Yang energy—one must intensify the firing and refine fully. When the “tiger’s roar suddenly sounds from its cave,” one must turn the process around and proceed in reverse.

The Zhouyi says: “The dragon appears in the fields; it is beneficial to meet the great person.” This is the stage of the second nine line in the Qian hexagram, when extraction and replenishment—adjusting Yin and Yang and increasing or decreasing the firing—are appropriate, so the firing must be intensified. This differs from the initial nine, when the “hidden dragon” is still too weak, and from the third nine, when form and substance have already congealed and further gathering and refining are unsuitable. The Wuzhen pian says: “The white tiger of the western mountain rages fiercely; the azure dragon of the eastern sea is irresistible. Seize them with both hands and make them fight to the death; they transform into a mass of purple-gold frost.” The Four Hundred Words on the Golden Elixir says: “The dragon comes from the eastern sea; the tiger rises toward the western mountain. The two beasts fight a battle, then transform into the marrow of Heaven and Earth.” These passages all use the combat of dragon and tiger as a metaphor for the union of Yin and Yang and the refinement of the Elixir.

“To reverse Yin and Yang and turn the workings of creation backward” means to reverse the direction in which Yin and Yang normally move. The cultivator uses the Xun wind, symbolizing the breath or the movement of breath, and the bellows, a metaphor for driving the movement of Qi, to send Qi in reverse from the Great Mystery Pass to the Celestial Valley point. This brings about the inner visions described in the text: “Golden essence pierces the crown,” “silver streams surge to the heavens,” and “wind rises in the Mud Ball.” It then says that the Crimson Palace, the heart palace, grows bright; the Magpie Bridge, the channel connecting the upper and lower Qi pathways, becomes fragrant; sweet dew descends; the hundred channels return to their source; and the nine gates open freely. Finally, “Once Heaven and Earth have joined, a single point falls into the Yellow Court” sums up how, after Yin and Yang unite, Elixir Qi gathers in the Yellow Court, the central region of the body in Neidan cultivation.

“Fire compels Metal to move, and sweet dew descends” means that fire refines Metal, setting the elixir in motion, while nourishing Qi flows downward like sweet dew. In turn, the Qi of the hundred channels returns to its source and opens the nine gates. This is what is meant by “after Heaven and Earth unite, a single point of true Yang falls into the Yellow Court,” the place within the body where Jing and Qi are refined.

Fire refines Metal, causing the elixir to rise from the Kun furnace, a vessel symbolizing the furnace of cultivation; this is called “the Seven Returns.” Metal, refined by fire, returns to the Qian cauldron, a vessel symbolizing the cauldron of cultivation; this is called “the Nine Reversions.” Here, “Metal” refers to the elixir. The Cantong qi says, “When Metal returns to its original nature, it may be called the Reverted Elixir.” The Guide says, “Fire compels Metal to move; reversal is natural.” The True Explanation of the Way of Singing says that people know only that fire overcomes Metal, but do not know that Metal also needs fire to be refined. While Metal remains in the ore and has not left the furnace, it cannot rise without the pressure of an intense fire. Thus “the Seven Returns” means cinnabar returning to its source, while “the Nine Reversions” means liquid Metal returning to its original place. Seven is the number of Fire, and nine is the number of Metal. Emerging from the Kun furnace and returning to the Qian cauldron, one gives and the other receives: this is what is meant by returning and reverting. The mutual operation of nature and emotion follows the same principle. “Taking Kan to fill Li,” “returning Jing to nourish the brain,” “igniting the Li cavity,” and “restoring the body’s original Qian strength” all refer to the same process.

“Reversion” is what Qian, symbolizing pure Yang, once lost and now regains. “Return” is my true nature: it once departed and now comes back.

The transformation of precelestial Qian and Kun into postcelestial Kan and Li, the trigrams symbolizing Water and Fire, is the loss of Qian’s middle line. Now the solid line at the center of Kan is taken to transform the Yin line within Li, restoring to Qian what it had originally lost. “I” here means Qian. Since the beginning of the original, undifferentiated state, true nature has been lost and gone away; what is now recovered is what was mine from the beginning, returning after its departure.

Yet people often do not understand that following the natural course of things gives rise to and nurtures human beings and all things, while reversing that course can bring about the attainment of immortality and Buddhahood.

Commentators explain that “little do they know” here means “in fact, it is easy to understand.” Laozi says, “My Dao is easy to understand and easy to put into practice, yet no one in the world can understand it or put it into practice.” Heaven and Earth share a root with “me,” and the myriad things are one body with “me.” Human beings are regarded as the most spiritually perceptive of the myriad things. They grow alongside all things, which is why “human beings” and “things” are spoken of together. To understand how a person cultivates toward becoming an immortal or a Buddha, one need only look at how human beings and the myriad things come into being: the starting point is the same. The difference lies in whether one follows the natural order or reverses its course. Following the current leads to ordinary human life; reversing the constant Dao can lead to sagehood, as the ancients put it.

The Perfected One Tuoyang says in The Mirror for Entering the Fire, “Following the current, one becomes human; reversing it, one forms the Elixir. Understand this principle, and you can become an immortal.” The Rootless Tree likewise says, “Following the constant Dao, one becomes an ordinary person; reversing it, one becomes a sage. This is an ancient teaching.” It also says, “Follow the current and you remain ordinary; reverse it and you become an immortal. The key is simply to turn the direction around midway.” A Single Stroke says, “Only by understanding the root of your own life can you know that the workings of creation are in your hands.” Zhang Ziyang says, “When the Five Phases move in their natural sequence, this is the ordinary way of the world, and so there is birth and death. When the Five Phases move in reverse, the Elixir cauldron can remain forever numinous and enduring.”

The Lingbao Method of Completing the Work records that when the parents’ Jing and blood first unite, all is undifferentiated, with no form yet. Development then proceeds gradually: in the first month, the sac forms; in the second, the embryo; in the third, the soul comes forth; in the fourth, the corporeal soul settles; in the fifth, the Five Viscera take shape; in the sixth, the Six Bowels open; in the seventh, the seven orifices become clear and complete; in the eighth, the Eight Effulgences are formed; in the ninth, the body is complete; and in the tenth, the breath is full. At last, the infant leaves the womb and is born.

The process of refining the Returning Elixir is broadly similar. When the cultivator receives the subtle Qi of the “numinous father and sacred mother,” it undergoes nine harmonizations and ten unions before the Golden Qi begins to form. At first, it is likewise in an undifferentiated state: numinously aware yet empty and still, without color or form, with no abyss or shadow to serve as a support. Once the primordial Qi has settled, the Five Phases take their places and circulate everywhere, gathering and blending in the depths. Then the movement of Qi unfolds and returns to its source; it is gathered and condensed again, nurturing true Qi, bringing forth the Five Viscera, regulating the Five Qi, and assembling the hundred spirits. This forms the “embryonic infant,” called the “Yang Spirit.” In Neidan cultivation, “embryonic infant” and “Yang Spirit” are terms for the fruits of cultivation. They borrow the process of gestation and birth to explain how these fruits take shape.

Although the text speaks of a distinction between “the other” and “the self,” it does not refer to bedroom alchemy or techniques for gathering and replenishing oneself from women. If one clings only to what is within one’s own body, how can one grasp the pivotal transformation symbolized by the Peng bird’s flight south?

The commentary explains that the preceding passage described borrowing the vital energy contained in “the other” to transform the Yin essence within the Yang of “the self,” thus distinguishing between “the other” and “the self.” The commentator clarifies again that this distinction is an upright and open principle, not the base, secretive practice of gathering and replenishing between men and women. All things in Heaven and Earth stand in relation to one another: where there is Heaven, there is Earth; where there is the sun, there is the moon; where there is Yin, there is Yang; where there are men, there are women. Cold and heat, day and night, clear and turbid, movement and stillness, hardness and softness likewise each have their counterpart. To view either side in isolation is to lose sight of the way things are. The patriarch feared that later readers might mistake this principle for a debased bedroom art or a technique of sexual combat, so he took care to explain that, although there is a distinction between “the other” and “the self,” it has nothing to do with such practices.

The commentator also uses the story from the Zhuangzi of the Kun transforming into the Peng and flying from north to south as an analogy. The Dao’s transformations are vast and boundless: like the Kun becoming the Peng, Qi transforms and rises; the journey from north to south also symbolizes transformation from “the other” and a return to “the self.” In this system of Neidan terminology, “the self” corresponds to the Li trigram and the Vermilion Bird of the south, which contains the Wood-fluid Azure Dragon; “the other” corresponds to the Kan trigram and the Black Tortoise of the north, which contains the Metal essence White Tiger. The Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise, Azure Dragon, and White Tiger are all symbolic terms for the Qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water).

The commentator cautions against clinging to the idea that the Way of cultivation can be found only between the heart and kidneys within one’s own body; otherwise, it is difficult to grasp the principle represented by the Peng bird’s flight south in the Zhuangzi. The “One-Stroke Summary” also says that those who believe nature and life are entirely contained within their own bodies do not understand that relying on oneself alone is not enough to grasp the mystery. The heart of this cultivation practice involves the relationship between “the other” and “the self”; it does not consist solely in working within oneself.

Within the Kan trigram, which symbolizes water, lies a trace of “black lead,” called a precelestial substance. Unless one belongs to the same kind, one can never obtain this subtle method of cultivation and its crucial instructions. The matter inherently involves a distinction between “the other” and “the self”; it cannot be accomplished by relying on oneself alone. The cinnabar mercury in the Li trigram, which symbolizes fire, is volatile and changeable. Without a true seed, it cannot be held for even a moment.

The commentary says that the Cantong qi takes Kan to represent the sun and Li to represent the moon: the sun bestows its beneficence, and the moon receives its light. The moon changes through the sun, yet is not harmed in itself. The trace of true Yang within Kan is called black lead: the essence of dark water and precelestial true Qi. The trace of water-mercury within Li is called cinnabar: the Qi of the sun and precelestial true fluid.

The Lingbao bifa says that Heaven’s One generates water, with lead concealed in Kan; Earth’s Two generates fire, with cinnabar produced in Li. Black lead is said to carry Heaven’s One’s essential Qi and to rank first among the five essences. Cinnabar, in turn, is said to receive the sun’s Qi and to rank first among stones. The commentary uses alchemical terms to explain their relationship: lead can produce silver, so lead is silver’s mother; mercury can be produced from cinnabar, so mercury is the child of cinnabar. The silver within lead is difficult to obtain, while the mercury within cinnabar is easily lost.

The ancestral master points out that this trace of black lead must be sought among “the same kind.” The Cantong qi says that working with things of the same kind is easy, while different kinds are difficult to coordinate skillfully; when things are joined according to their affinities, the refining and transformation can readily succeed. “The same kind” means things that correspond to and can be joined with one another. The commentary cites the words of Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng: to seek the elixir method apart from the same kind is to act recklessly. The Wugenshu likewise says that when the kinds are the same, the work is easier to carry out. Without belonging to the same kind, one is like solitary Yin, unable to generate life on its own, and so has no way to obtain black lead.

The commentary then uses the trigrams to explain “the other and the self”: Li is Yang on the outside and Yin within, and refers to the side of “the self.” The “seven kinds of cinnabar mercury” said to be within Li are explained in the commentary as the fluids that issue from the body’s seven apertures. Patriarch Zhongli says that everything within and around the human body belongs to Yin. If practitioners do not know what constitutes the true seed of Yang essence, they cannot recognize it. The precelestial true Qi, or black lead, is the true seed meant here. Mercury is volatile and difficult to control. The Cantong qi describes it as “a ghost that hides and a dragon that vanishes,” expressing how hard it is to find. Once precelestial true lead is obtained, true mercury will naturally settle and no longer fly away. The commentary compares this to a cat crouching over a mouse or a rabbit encountering a hawk, showing how it is restrained and tamed.

Therefore, practitioners borrow “Qian and Kun” (the trigrams that represent Heaven and Earth in the Book of Changes) to establish the “furnace and vessel,” a metaphor for alchemical practice, and seek the primordial True Qi contained in the Great One. They then take the transformations of Yin and Yang as their point of entry, probing for the “Mysterious Pearl,” a symbol of Neidan, hidden within the Water Mansion.

The commentary explains that Qian and Kun are merely borrowed names for the furnace and vessel, just as the furnace and vessel are borrowed names for the elixir ingredients. This path of cultivation uses appearances to cultivate the real and seeks truth through what is provisional. The “vessel” is not an actual vessel, nor need the furnace be a physical furnace; the scripture uses the trigrams of the Book of Changes to explain the Way of the Elixir. To understand it, one must grasp what the symbols signify rather than cling to the words or trigrams themselves. Cultivating the primordial True Qi of the Great One depends on the metaphor of the furnace and vessel, whose imagery is made clear through Qian and Kun. Without understanding the transformations of Yin and Yang, there is no way to begin. Yin and Yang are thus a guide to alchemical cultivation, like a fish trap used to catch fish or a snare used to catch rabbits. The “Mysterious Pearl” is the elixir, said to be concealed in the Great Abyss of the Northern Pole. To find it, one must fully understand Yin-Yang and the transformations of creation, lest the effort come to nothing.

At the moment when Yin and Yang unite and turn with great speed, restore the single flaw originally present in the Qian trigram; in an instant, restore the six originally vacant places in the Kun trigram.

In an instant, Yin and Yang unite, and Kan and Li—the trigrams that symbolize water and fire, Yin and Yang—transform. The central line of the Qian trigram (☰) enters the Kun trigram (☷), while the central line of Kun enters Qian, forming Kan (☵) and Li (☲). Now the Yin line is drawn from Li and placed in Kan, restoring Qian to its complete form. At the same time, the Yang line is drawn from Kan and placed in Li, so that Kan changes into Kun. This brings about the states of Qian’s strength and Kun’s yielding. The Guizhi says: “From this point, one transforms into the strong and vigorous substance of Qian. Whether one lies hidden or soars aloft is governed entirely by the mind’s intent.”

At this stage, the heart-mind and spirit return to the spirit chamber, the inner realm where they are cultivated and preserved, and take their place among the Celestial Immortals. The Neidan settles in the Yellow Court, an important inner region described in Daoist teachings, and the many numinous spirits become calm and at ease. The Supreme God gives approval, and Heaven and Earth marvel.

The commentary explains that at this point in cultivation, Qi gathers and spirit becomes complete; the heart-mind is settled, spirit concentrated, and awareness clear and luminous. The Huangdi Yinfujing’s phrase “the spirit beyond spirit, cessation beyond cessation” refers to a wondrous state that transcends ordinary consciousness. Through this, the cultivator takes office in the celestial bureaucracy and becomes an Upper Perfected One. After the spiritual root kindles fire and the pearl from the sea floor—symbolizing true essence or Neidan within the body—rises again, a point of the Elixir settles in the Yellow Court. Qi and breath are then gathered, the hun and po souls are settled, the whole body is at ease, and the hundred channels brim with vitality. The heart-mind and spirit are tranquil, and the many spirits obey its direction. The Supreme God praises the cultivator’s valor, while Heaven and Earth marvel at such a rare achievement. The Wuzhen pian says: “Countless spirit dragons are shaken with wonder.”

The “Five Chapters” on the Elixir Way by Lü Dongbin, patriarch of the Pure Yang lineage.

Embrace the primordial Qi and hold fast to the One Truth—that is, gather the spirit, guard the heart, and remain wholly focused without dispersing. Gently nurture and nourish it for ten months. When the spirit has taken on a form, you must cultivate the primordial spirit. Sit quietly facing a wall and forget the body. After nine years, you will reach a state in which the body presents no hindrance and you have transcended its limits.

The Essentials of the Golden Elixir says: “When the state is prosperous and the people live in peace, and the work of the Dao has been accomplished, one should still face a wall in quiet cultivation and nourish the primordial spirit. When the method has passed through nine revolutions, one may ascend to Heaven, remain forever a celestial immortal, and enjoy life for ten thousand years.” After the Return Elixir has formed, the next step is to warm and nourish it: embrace the primordial spirit, hold fast to the One Truth, and let the Great Circuit of Heaven turn without the slightest interruption in the firing process. When ten months of cultivation are complete, a spirit will enter and leave the Muddy Pellet Palace—the cultivation site at the crown of the head—and the state known as “a body outside the body” will take shape. The Patriarch of the Muddy Pellet Palace said, “When the embryo immortal emerges after ten months, thunder and lightning send forth the golden dragon.” To regulate the spirit means that once the primordial spirit has left the body, whether it travels ten paces or a hundred, it must be watched over carefully. This work, like nursing an infant, must continue for three years.

Afterward, choose a famed mountain or blessed land, an ancient site or sacred altar. Find a place where water encircles the mountains, gathering Qi and sheltering it from the wind. Build a quiet chamber beside the clouds, sit upright within it, and forget the body. When form and spirit have both reached subtle perfection, you will unite with the Dao in Truth; neither water nor fire can harm you, and neither blades nor weapons can injure you. Once your merit has reached three thousand and your cultivation has lasted nine years, you will be able to transform and communicate with the spirits, travel freely through the eight directions of Heaven and Earth, move mountains and overturn seas, ascend to Heaven and descend to Earth, aid the people and bring peace to them, cast out evil spirits and eliminate calamities. When the decree of the Celestial Court arrives, you may ascend in broad daylight and take your place among the highest ranks of celestial immortals. You will be as vast as Heaven and Earth, as radiant as the sun and moon, and your life will endure as long as Heaven and Earth. This is the highest path of cultivation. The Great Dao of the celestial immortals is the work of a truly great man; only a great hero of outstanding character can undertake it.

At the outset, these Daoist arts may seem to follow a crooked path, but in truth they lead back to the righteous Way. The arrangement of the firing process from beginning to end is like using stratagems in warfare to win through surprise.

(Lead and mercury are common symbols in Neidan (internal alchemy), referring respectively to different aspects of the body and mind’s vital energies. “Infant” and “Maiden” are shortened forms of “infant” and “maiden,” and also symbolize the Yin and Yang energies cultivated in practice. Elder Bing and the Yellow Matron symbolize the harmonizing and connecting of these forces.) Without Elder Bing to harmonize them, lead and mercury are like things kept apart in the east and west, unable to unite. Without the Yellow Matron to bring them together, the Infant and Maiden may be close at hand yet still miss one another, unable to meet.

Master Bing points to Fire. Without Fire, Lead cannot be refined and Mercury cannot be cooked. The East belongs to Wood, and Mercury is contained within Wood; the West belongs to Metal, and Lead is contained within Metal. The two are originally separated. They must be brought together through the Fire of Bing and Ding, so that they fuse and unite. Only then will they cease to overcome one another and instead be able to generate one another.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Wood by nature delights in the righteousness of Metal, while Metal’s feelings cherish the benevolence of Wood. The two take one another in, mingle, and draw close; only then does one realize that a child is already being conceived within the man.” The Cuixu pian also says that the Infant and the Maiden (terms in Neidan referring to the Yin and Yang essences and energies in the alchemical process) are far apart, and that everything depends on the Yellow Matron (a symbol of the force that harmonizes and brings Yin and Yang together) to connect and unite them. A Flower on a Single Branch says: “Grateful for the Yellow Matron’s matchmaking, one waits only for the maiden to open like a lotus.” The Song of Knocking on the Yao says: “The Yellow Matron brings the two into perfect union, with timing precise to the slightest measure; these formulas can only be transmitted orally.” The Mirror for Compounding the Medicine says: “Rely on the Yellow Matron to bring the Maiden together with her mate; gently and silently set them in motion.” The Yellow Matron is the deputy commander in the alchemical chamber and is absolutely indispensable. Without her, even if the two are close at hand, they will fail to unite properly and will be at odds in their intentions, passing one another by so that the alchemy cannot be completed.

To understand how to manage slowness and urgency and weigh good and ill fortune, one must judge each situation according to the practitioner’s skill. One must know when to advance and when to withdraw, and also when to stop and when to be content. How could the ignorant and unenlightened possibly do these things?

The key to alchemy lies in the four words “slowness, urgency, good fortune, and ill fortune,” which demand the closest observation and most careful consideration. Holding a city under siege belongs to slowness; fighting in the open field belongs to urgency. Warming and nurturing belong to slowness; gathering the medicine belongs to urgency. Life-giving Qi belongs to good fortune; killing Qi belongs to…

The key to practicing the alchemical method lies in understanding the four terms “slow, swift, auspicious, and inauspicious,” and judging them with care and thoroughness. Guarding the city and nurturing the process belong to the slow; going out to battle and gathering the medicinal ingredients belong to the swift. Shengqi is auspicious, while killing qi is inauspicious; Yang qi is auspicious, while Yin qi is inauspicious. The Ruyao Jing says, “Receiving the workings of qi is auspicious; beware that it may turn into danger.” The Wuzhen Pian says, “Understand the auspicious and inauspicious in guarding the city and fighting in the wild, and you can refine the numinous cinnabar until it glows red in the cauldron.”

Only when you understand these matters thoroughly and are practiced in applying them can you be called a true adept. To “weigh and measure” means to know the proper degree and not stray from the principles. The Wugenshu says, “The adept is highly skilled, holding the helm steady, no matter how the waves churn beneath the sea.” The Yizhihua says, “Applying the adept’s skill is like sailing against the current.” This means the same thing.

Zhang Quanyi says, “When advancing Yang Fire, turn it around from the left; when withdrawing Yin Talisman, circle back toward the west.” The Lesser Celestial Circuit formula of Patriarch Qiu Changchun says: from the hour of Zi to the hour of Si, use the number of the Six Yang and take nine as the measure, breathing thirty-six times to gather the ingredients and advance them; from the hour of Wu to the hour of Hai, use the number of the Six Yin and take six as the measure, breathing twenty-four times to withdraw and refine them. Advancing and withdrawing are also rising and descending. The Tianxian Zhengli says: when the qi mechanism of inhalation closes, turn it toward the Qian position and advance by rising; when the qi mechanism of exhalation opens, turn it toward the Kun position and withdraw by descending. Here, “breath” means respiration, and “Celestial Circuit” refers to the inner cultivation method that follows the sequence of Yin and Yang.

Chongxu Zi says that advancing and withdrawing are only figurative terms; in reality, there is no visible advance or withdrawal. Zhang Ziyang says, “Before the Returning Elixir is complete, you must apply yourself diligently to cultivation. Once it is complete, you must also know when enough is enough. If you keep seeking fullness and refuse to stop, one day you will meet danger and defeat.” Xiao Liaozhen likewise says, “Never apply the firing process recklessly without understanding it; if you do not know when to be content and stop, you will surely face collapse and peril.” These sayings concern stopping the fire once the alchemical method is complete, and their principle is exceedingly subtle. Without instruction from a true teacher, even the intelligent and perceptive will find it hard to understand—how much more so the ignorant?

Observe the changes in the qi mechanism as precisely as the tides rise and fall at their appointed times; discern the workings of Creation by reference to the waxing and waning of the sun and moon.

“Faith” is a vital foundation of cultivation, and a path followed in common by the sages and perfected beings of every age. The Zhuangzi says, “It has feeling and faith, yet is Wuwei (non-action) and formless.” The Hundred-Sentence Text says, “Within it is a true faith; when its response arrives, you will surely be amazed. The Zi and Wu hours never fall into disorder, and the tides each have their own time.” The Mirror for Compounding the Medicine says, “In heaven, it corresponds to the stars; on earth, it corresponds to the tides.” Bai Yuchan says, “The ebb and flow of the tides beneath the earth’s sea correspond to the moon in heaven.” The Essentials says, “At the appointed time, signs like the tides appear, and the moon rises from the Geng direction.” By observing these signs of “faith,” one can understand the principles behind the changes in the movement of Qi and discern their source.

The sun and moon represent the two luminaries of Yin and Yang—the two moving energies of Yin and Yang. When the movement of Qi stirs and becomes manifest as light, the moon shines by borrowing the sun’s radiance. The angle at which sunlight strikes the moon varies, producing the moon’s soul and spirit—here referring to the Yin-Yang relationship expressed through the phases of the moon—and its waxing and waning. From the regular pattern of the moon’s waxing and waning, one can infer the subtle workings of creation and transformation.

On the third day of the lunar month, the moon appears in the Geng direction, symbolizing the birth of a single Yang energy at the Kan position—one of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizing water and Yang within Yin. On the fifteenth day, the moon is full in the Jia direction, symbolizing the complete course of the six lines—the six positions that make up a trigram or hexagram—and their return to the Qian origin, the pure Yang source symbolized by the Qian trigram.

The Song of the True Scripture says, “On the third day, the Zhen trigram appears from the Geng direction; above the Curving River, the moonlight shines bright.” The Cantong qi says, “On the third day, the moon appears like a clear, bright light; the Zhen trigram takes up the Geng position in the west. By the eighth day, the six lines have completed their course and returned to the Qian origin.”

The Song of the True Scripture says: “On the third day of the lunar month, Geng Metal appears within the Zhen trigram, which symbolizes the first stirring of Yang Qi. Above the winding river in the southwest, the moon shines bright.” The Cantong qi says: “When the moon appears on the third day, the sky is clear and bright. Zhen corresponds to Geng and occupies the west.” On the eighth day, Dui corresponds to Ding: the moon reaches its first quarter, its shape straight as a cord. By the fifteenth, the Qian trigram, symbolizing pure Yang, takes form; the moon is full and lies in the east. The Wuzhen pian says: “The moon shines bright in the southwest; from here the Great Medicine is born.” The “Great Medicine” means the return of the One Yang: Yang Qi begins to sprout again. This One Yang is born within the Kun trigram, which symbolizes pure Yin, gradually emerging from a state of pure Yin. “Complete circle” refers to Qian’s correspondence with Jia and Ren, and Kun’s with Yi and Gui. Jia Wood and Geng Metal stand in relation to one another, forming the image of completeness.

The Cantong qi says: “When the virtues of three and five are fulfilled, the Qian form is complete, and the six lines revolve in their cycle.” This means that once the workings of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases are in place, the form of the Qian trigram takes shape, and the six lines circulate in an unbroken cycle. The Yi says: “Its transformations are unrestrained; it circulates through the six empty spaces.” This means that change has no fixed limits, and Yin-Yang Qi flows among the six lines. The Cantong qi also says: “It circulates through the six lines, yet is difficult to perceive.” This means that the workings of the Qian and Kun trigrams extend throughout the six hexagrams. It also refers to the central lines of the Kan and Li trigrams moving among the six lines. Qian and Kun give rise to their six offspring trigrams—Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, and Dui—and each receives one central line from Qian and Kun. Thus, without the central lines, the trigrams would be incomplete.

Split open the secret chamber, strong as gold, and break through chaos to reveal the profound meaning of Laozi and Zhuangzi. Explain the bellows, the vessel of alchemical refinement and a symbol of the instrument that stirs Qi; drink the knife-tip measure, the Daoist alchemical term for a very small dose of elixir; and voice the heartfelt truth of Zhang Pingshu, also known as Zhang Baiduan, the Ziyang Perfected, author of the Wuzhen pian.

The commentary explains that this means unlocking teachings hidden as securely as if sealed with a golden lock, and breaking through chaos so that the deepest meanings of the Daode Jing, the Nanhua Jing, and the writings of Laozi and Zhuangzi are fully revealed. The bellows are interpreted as an alchemical vessel: the vessel with a bottom is called a “bellows,” while the one without a bottom is called a “reed”; they may also be likened to a zither, flute, or gourd. To understand the bellows, one must first understand the meaning of “drinking a knife-tip measure.” The Rujing jing says: “Drink a knife-tip measure, and glimpse Heaven’s artifice.” The Cantong qi says: “Powder it and take a single pill; the knife-tip measure is most wondrous.” Zhang Pingshu composed the Wuzhen pian as though laying bare his heart and lungs, transmitting the true methods of cultivation.

These words are therefore offered to friends of kindred purpose who have understood the principles, revealing the hidden teachings guarded by the Dragon and Tiger—terms in Daoist Neidan that symbolize the interplay of Yin-Yang, Kan and Li, and related forces.

Each person should seek the cultivation opportunities suited to them, master the timing and intensity of the refining process, and partake early of the “Millet Pearl,” a symbolic term in Neidan practice. Langyuan and Xuanpu are legendary realms of the immortals. Though these realms lie far away, by cultivating in accordance with this rhapsody, one may hope to reach them in time. The commentary also uses “three thousand leagues of weak water” as a metaphor for how difficult these realms are to reach: only flying immortals can travel there. Those who complete their cultivation can ascend once their merit is fulfilled, receive heavenly mandates and registers, and be honored as perfected beings.

Only when distracting thoughts are absent can one become still; when the mind grows still, the breath naturally becomes even. When the breath is even, breathing settles; when breathing settles, body and mind return to their source. Returning to the source makes it possible to see one’s original nature; seeing one’s original nature is what it means to truly enter the Dao.

A person cannot settle into stillness because thoughts arise in the heart-mind: before one thought has stopped, another appears, and all kinds of worries and reflections churn without pause. From youth to old age, how often does anyone truly find even a moment of quiet? To cultivate stillness, one must begin by ceasing the flow of thoughts. When thoughts fall away, desires and emotions also diminish, and the heart-mind becomes clear.

Once the heart-mind is clear, the breath naturally grows calm, like fish in a spring pond or insects lying dormant. The breath moves and shifts within the body, gathering and dispersing; its subtle workings are endless, and Qi thereby becomes calm. Over time, the breath entering and leaving gradually settles and returns to its root, until at last it seems there is no breath. This is what is meant by the perfected person (one who has succeeded in cultivating the Dao) hiding in the abyss and floating within the compass (a Neidan term for the centered, balanced point maintained in the movement of body and mind). The breath continues in an unbroken stream, steady and ceaseless in its movement. This does not mean that the breath is truly absent; rather, Qi returns to the central pole and keeps revolving within the body. When the breath returns to its root, stillness brings stability. When stability reaches its utmost, one’s nature naturally becomes manifest, and the light of wisdom naturally arises.

Nature is the original spirit (the primordial spirit in Daoist teaching) at the source of life. Buddhism speaks of “seeing one’s nature and becoming a Buddha,” calling this attainment of the Way. In truth, there is nothing to attain; to grasp “non-attainment” is genuine attainment.

Among the myriad things, there seems not to be even the slightest breath; yet thunder can be heard beneath the earth. Ascend to the summit of Kunlun (a Neidan term often referring to a point within the body reached by the movement of Qi); the path that follows must be clearly discerned.

When every distracting thought has settled, and even sound, breath, and scent seem to have vanished, the moment when Yang Qi is reborn arrives. Suddenly, it is like thunder bursting forth from beneath the earth. A Golden Elixir text says: “Earth’s thunder shakes the mountain peak; rain washes the yellow sprout as it emerges from the soil.” This is the manifestation of pure Yang Qi, its force like a blazing fire and its appearance like a scorching wind. The Yellow Court Scripture says: “Within is a perfected being wearing a golden headcloth, bearing armor and holding a talisman, opening the seven gates.” These words concern the root, not some incidental detail.

At this point, set the “River Cart” in motion—the route along which Qi moves in internal alchemy. Let Qi rise from the Tail Gate at the base of the spine, pass through the paired barriers at the spinal ridge, then travel along the Jade Pillow at the back of the head and ascend to Kunlun at the crown. This practice carries Qi upward along the back and then downward along the front. The route must be clear; do not proceed vaguely or in haste.

From Kunlun, carry Qi downward through the Magpie Bridge, where the tongue touches the upper palate to connect the Qi above and below, and deliver it to the Yellow Court, the body’s central palace and the spirit chamber of internal alchemy. Let it rest there. The Changes trigrams unfold within the Yellow Court: they comprise 384 lines, and the firing times in alchemical cultivation are likewise measured in 384 zhu. The principles of Heaven and Earth are taken as models, Kan and Li are brought into correspondence, and Water and Fire are put to use—all these transformations unfold in this process.

“Fifty-five” refers to the number of Heaven and Earth: Heaven’s number is twenty-five, Earth’s is thirty, and together they make fifty-five. These numbers of Heaven and Earth bring about transformation and set the spirits in motion. “Even” means that the elements are properly and evenly matched, providing a rule for alchemical cultivation. Practitioners should observe the patterns of Heaven and Earth to grasp the principles within them.

Qi (vital energy) gathers and disperses with the timing, moving throughout the body and limbs. Whether sitting or lying down, observe how it moves. This is the principle of the foundation stage of cultivation: Yin alone, without Yang, cannot rise and develop.

The Qi that fills the body and limbs reaches everywhere; its gathering and dispersal should follow the proper timing as it moves through the limbs. “Sitting or lying, watch its movement” means that cultivation can be practiced in either posture. Related alchemical texts also mention two people sitting facing one another and rising together from the same bed, showing that this practice is not limited to seated meditation. At the foundation stage, one must understand that Yin and Yang support each other: isolated Yin cannot grow, and solitary Yang cannot endure. If one only sits alone in stillness, where would the Qi come from to rise, descend, and circulate?

One must also forge the spirit sword. Here, “sword” does not mean a weapon made of bronze or iron, but a sword of wisdom. An alchemical text says that one must use this sword to enter and leave the realm of existence and nonexistence in order to gather and refine the elixir. Practitioners must first forge this sword before they can gather the elixir; only after refining the self—that is, cultivating one’s nature and correcting one’s thoughts—can they return the elixir. Refining the self means maintaining right awareness, preventing deviant thoughts from arising, forgetting sensual desires and outward forms, and resolving firmly to devote oneself to the work. When beginning cultivation at the furnace, the original spirit must remain settled and unmoving, with one’s whole mind devoted to the practice. This is refining the self, and it is also the method of forging the sword.

One must seek out and acquire the implements needed for the alchemical chamber. “Five thousand, four and eight, spring” is retained as in the original. First observe the night of the third day of the lunar month, when the moth-brow—the new moon shaped like a moth’s brow—begins to reveal “Geng,” a technical term in the alchemical tradition for a marker associated with timing and direction in cultivation.

The vessels used in alchemical practice are difficult to obtain. They must be purchased and sought out in many places before they can be found. Their number must correspond to the 5,048 scrolls contained in a single True Scripture. On the night of the third day of each month, a crescent moon like an eyebrow appears in the western Geng position, the direction associated with Metal. This is the radiance of the essence of true gold, and the moment when the Great Medicine is about to form. The line in Qinyuanchun, “The lead cauldron warms gently; its light shines through the curtains,” refers to this very scene.

Wait until the Golden Flower appears in the Geng direction, then return to seek it within yourself. Only then can you gather true lead, a key substance in Neidan practice. Each line of the instruction must be transmitted orally by a master.

Out of compassion, the Patriarch points directly to the key of cultivation: one must see the Golden Flower in the Geng direction. Although its position is in the western Geng region, in truth one must seek within oneself; there, a new moon like an eyebrow will appear. An alchemical scripture says, “Suddenly he sees a moon in the western sky, and Pure Yang hurries off to tell Zhongli.” When the moment arrives, do not delay: once it has passed, the opportunity is lost. This is the secret of gathering and refining true lead, exceedingly difficult to understand and even harder to obtain. Since ancient times, such instructions have been passed orally from master to disciple and not readily taught. The so-called “pearl within the robe” is right before one’s eyes. Practitioners search and struggle yet remain lost because they have not met a true master or received the genuine transmission.

The firing process begins on the first day of the month: Yang Qi gradually grows from one liang. On the sixteenth day, it shifts into the Yin Talisman phase—the stage in Neidan when Yin Qi begins to grow—and Yang Qi no longer increases.

Each stage of the firing process has its proper time. One must wait until the right moment arrives before applying it, and the practice must begin on the first day of the month. The Cantong qi says, “In the first year, the sprout begins to emerge.” Here, “the first year” means the first day of each month. The substances gradually increase by one liang at a time, beginning on the first day, as one accumulates line-beads—the essence that gradually congeals through cultivation. The eight liang of lead and half a jin of mercury are both formed through this gradual accumulation. On the sixteenth day, after the full moon, the method calls for a shift to the Yin Talisman phase, when the firing process turns from advance to retreat. At this point, the amount is no longer increased: the firing stops, and the talismanic timing is no longer put into operation. Lead and mercury no longer meet.

On the days of Mao and You, one should bathe—cleansing the mind and thoughts and gathering the spirit—while guarding carefully against mistakes and danger. The Metal Qi, the refined vital energy spoken of in Neidan cultivation, will steam forth on its own, warming the whole body and bringing heavy perspiration.

“Rabbit” refers to Mao, and “rooster” to You, since in the Twelve Earthly Branches Mao corresponds to the rabbit and You to the rooster. At this time, punishment and virtue converge, and the method calls for bathing. Here, bathing means cleansing the mind and driving away distracting thoughts. The Book of Changes says, “The noble person washes and purifies the spirit, gathering the mind in a quiet place.” Cultivation at this point is dangerous; the slightest carelessness can lead into peril, so every step must be carried out with caution and steadfastness. In this way, Metal Qi can rise and descend through the body, spreading everywhere, bringing a gentle warmth and gradually producing sweat.

Only after ten months is the embryo of the Neidan complete. At that point, the spirit must still emerge through the crown of the head. Afterward, one must continue facing the wall for nine years before ascending to the Jade Capital, the celestial realm of Daoist legend.

The Cantong qi says: After ten months, the embryo leaves the womb; when the work of ten months is complete, the gentle nurturing also comes to an end. The Danjing says: After three hundred days of firing and refinement, the embryo’s breathing is formed over ten months, and the original spirit can leave the body, departing and returning at will. By then, impurities have been refined away, the Golden Elixir is pure, and the whole body is filled with pure Yang Qi. The five organs spring to life anew, and the hundred bones are reconstituted. A numinous fluid forms in the mouth, and the blood turns into a white cream. Suddenly there is a thunderous crash, as if thunder struck the earth; golden light shines in every direction, and the infant is born from the crown of the head.

After this, one must slowly nurture the original spirit, allowing it to become gradually free of the body. Tradition says that at this stage of cultivation, one can pass through metal and stone and travel ten thousand miles in an instant. From then on, one can manifest countless transformations, then cultivate while facing a wall and nourish the state of emptiness. After nine years, the work is complete; a decree descends from the celestial court, and the cultivator ascends to the Golden Palace, the abode of the Celestial Emperor. This is what is meant by: “When the work is complete through nine turnings, one goes to pay court in Heaven; forever an immortal of Heaven, one lives ten thousand springs.”

I have clearly explained to you the three stages of cultivation and their key instructions. Now I have personally interpreted them and written them into a book, passing these instructions on.

The work of cultivating the Golden Elixir has three stages in all: the initial pass, refining the self and laying the foundation; the middle pass, refining Qi and transforming it into spirit; and the final pass, refining spirit and returning to emptiness. Since ancient times, few have explained these three stages clearly. Now I have set them out one by one and written them into a book. Those who aspire to this Way should carefully grasp these instructions and practice diligently; only then may they hope to enter the realm of the sages and perfected beings and rise beyond ordinary people.

Pass this book on to those who cultivate the Way: it is a precious method of cultivation. The Elixir instructions require transmission from a true teacher, and must also be examined carefully with the immortals.

Now I have written down these instructions, kept secret and untransmitted for ages, and passed them on to those who cultivate the Way. This book is a precious guide to cultivation, and a raft leading to the immortal realm. Yet it gives only a broad outline; the most subtle and profound matters still require oral instruction from a true teacher. The essential keys to cultivation must be transmitted by a true immortal. Those in the world who rely on the written words alone and try to puzzle them out often misunderstand and go astray. Therefore, one should seek a teacher with sincerity and single-minded purpose; only then may one eventually meet a wise teacher. This is the meaning of “it must be carefully discussed with the immortals.”

There is another subtle method of alchemy that I fear would be taken lightly if I explained it too fully. It is called “playing the qin and se,” meaning that husband and wife bring their temperaments into harmony. As the poem says, “The wife and her husband live in harmony, like the qin and se sounding together.” The qin and se must be played in unison; likewise, the practice of the Dao begins with the union of Yin and Yang. The Cantong qi says, “Explore their feelings and intentions, bring their natures into accord, and then let them mingle with one another.” The subtlety of this alchemical method is not easy to grasp.

Rosy clouds shine over winding waters, and the red sun rises from Kunlun. The scene is indistinct, far-reaching, and profound. Yet within it there is truly a sign: when it appears, you will surely be astonished. Commentators explain these images as the interaction of Metal and Water, and Wood and Fire, and the rising and descending of the crow and hare, symbolizing the movement of Yin and Yang. “Indistinct” and “profound darkness” draw on the language of the Laozi, referring to states in cultivation that cannot be grasped through outward signs. Yet within them are real Jing and Qi, and signs of their presence. “Trustworthy” means a sign that arrives at its appointed time and never misses its season. When the moment comes, the medicine forms, and the practitioner will sense it. Commentators hold that this describes the stirring of primordial Qi and the scene in which the Taiji first appears.

A single pellet of elixir, red as a tangerine, calls forth mercury to meet it. No implements are used at all; instead, the process is set in motion by reversing Heaven and Earth.

When the Elixir is restored, its form can be seen: a tiny point settling in the Yellow Court, the part of the body where cultivation takes place, shaped like a red tangerine or a pellet. The “mercury” mentioned here means quicksilver. As the Elixir is about to arrive, a little true quicksilver must be used to welcome it. Once it arrives, let it take the place of honor, with the “husband” leading in front and the “wife” following behind. This reversal of Yin-Yang and turning back of creation is called “two layers of Heaven and Earth, and four Yin-Yang.”

The Three-Character Formula says: “The key lies in reversal: I make myself the guest and treat him as the host.” “Implements” refers to ritual objects such as the qin and sword. Once the Elixir has entered the crucible, stop working the talismans and tending the fire. Put away the ritual implements and rely solely on this mysterious mechanism to harmonize Yin-Yang.

There are countless people in the world who study the Dao, but who truly understands its principles? Understanding is not difficult; the key is to accumulate hidden virtue and do good widely. Heaven will surely respond to the direction of one’s will, and naturally an immortal will become one’s teacher.

People who do not understand the principles of cultivation resort to practices such as “harvesting and assaulting at the three peaks.” Some speak of the three passes, others of entering and approaching the furnace, and still others of acting mouth to mouth—these sound utterly filthy. All methods that rely on deliberate action lead to hell.

Some stubborn people are convinced that quiet cultivation must be the true method, and so they persist until their hair turns yellow, their teeth fall out, and their bodies grow thin as magpies, with gaunt, storklike frames.

Some foolish and stubborn people are convinced that quietude is everything, and no amount of advice can change their minds. They train themselves relentlessly, sitting in meditation day and night. As a result, their Qi and blood do not flow freely, and their bodies grow as frail as magpies or cranes, with bones jutting out beneath their skin. Even when their hair turns yellow and their teeth fall out, they still fail to wake up. It is truly lamentable.

This is because people often see Daoists who do not marry or hold office, but live alone in remote mountains and sit in stillness year after year. They assume this is what cultivating the Dao means. They also often read in novels that entering the mountains to cultivate the Dao leads to becoming an immortal, and so conclude that immortals are made by practicing in the mountains. How could they know that sitting until death brings nothing but wasted effort? The root of the problem is that they have not read the alchemical scriptures carefully.

After Zhang Sanfeng met the Perfected Immortal Fire Dragon, who transmitted the Daoist teachings, Fire Dragon passed the secrets on to him and told him to leave the mountains at once and seek out those with whom he had a destined connection. Hence A Branch of Flowers says, “He ordered me to leave the mountains, seek a companion, and search for lead.” When the Immortal Stone Elder of Xinglin transmitted the teachings to Xue Zixian, he likewise said, “You may go to the bustling cities and rely on people of means to accomplish the work.”

Since ancient times, Perfected Immortals have been sought among ordinary people, among the wealthy and powerful. The ancients left the mountains; people today insist on entering them. The ancients valued taking action; people today speak only of Wuwei (non-action). These ways run counter to the ancients and depart from the right path. Some stubbornly cling to quietude until they die, without ever changing their minds. Why not consider what the Scripture of Clarity and Quietude says: “Through continuing in this quietude, one gradually enters the true Dao. Though this is called attaining the Dao, in fact there is nothing attained. It is called attaining the Dao only to teach and transform living beings.” These words explain the principle of quietude fully. At this point, the matter might seem settled, yet the scripture adds: “Those who can understand may be taught the sacred Dao.” If, even after cultivating to the point of quietude, there is still a sacred Dao to be transmitted, how can people fail to understand?

In general, people know only the ordinary principles of the world; they have never witnessed the wondrous deeds performed by sages and Perfected Immortals. This also has to do with differences in people’s native capacities—their aptitudes for understanding the Daoist teachings.

He does not understand my Dao (the Way), so he explicitly calls what is false real. He knows only to observe the Way of Heaven and move in accordance with the seasons, but he does not understand my method of cultivation: using the visible “false” to cultivate the invisible “true,” ultimately passing from false to true and making the false become true. The Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Accord) says, “Observe the Way of Heaven and follow its course; that is enough.” Heaven and Earth form a great Yin-Yang; the human body, a small Yin-Yang. In Heaven there are Greater Yin and Greater Yang; in the human body, Lesser Yin and Lesser Yang. Their principles are interconnected. With focused attention, the cultivator models the movements of Heaven and Earth and the cycles of sun and moon, comprehends the subtle workings of Kan and Li (symbols of water and fire, Yin and Yang) in the human body, and follows the method of the Four Upright Mysterious Passes (key directions and gateways in Neidan cultivation), modeling Heaven and Earth. Who could know the mysteries contained in this?

The moon rises over the mountains and rivers in the west, while evening clouds cast their glow over the southern waterside. This is just like the moon when it is about to be full but has not yet reached fullness. The three days before the new moon (the first day of the lunar month) are the dark moon, the final day of the lunar month, when pure Yin is contained within Yang.

The rising moon symbolizes the first appearance of the elixir, the tender beginnings of the medicinal sprout; the crimson clouds symbolize the fire-energy stirring and Yin influences receding. The line in the Wuzhen (Wuzhen pian, Awakening to Reality), a classic of Neidan, “On the road to the southwest, the moonlight shines; from this place the Great Medicine is born,” refers to this very scene. The western river symbolizes the place where lead is produced; southern Li symbolizes the source from which fire arises. The phrase “three days before is the dark moon” refers to the moment just before the living Zi hour (the time when Yang-energy stirs in Neidan cultivation), as the Hai hour draws to a close. At this time the Great Medicine is about to form: Yin-energy has reached its height, and the impulse of Yang is on the verge of stirring.

The three days after the new moon mark the new-moon phase, when Yang essence is already contained within Yin. This is like the Winter Solstice, when Yang-energy begins to revive and the atmosphere turns mild, like the season of spring.

The moment on the third day refers to the third day after the Jia day. By then, the waning moon has disappeared and the new moon is about to appear. This occurs roughly at the end of the Hai hour and the beginning of the Zi hour, when the ancient time periods change. Yin energy has reached its extreme, and Yang energy begins to emerge. It is like Yang energy rising from deep within the earth, and like the winter solstice in the seasonal cycle. At the winter solstice, Yang energy first arises between Heaven and Earth; Yang essence is the moment when the body’s vital force begins to stir. When Yang energy returns to the earth, all things seem to welcome spring: the scenery brightens, and life fills every place. When the body’s true Yang stirs, it is like the sun rising from Fusang, the mythical tree from which the sun ascends, its red light illuminating the earth. The joints and pores throughout the body seem to soften and relax, and the whole body fills with life like springtime.

The eighth day, when the waxing crescent appears, is likened to the Mao gate associated with the Rabbit. The sixteenth day, when Yin energy first arises after the full moon, is called Gou and is likened to the You gate. Only by comparing these cycles with the hexagrams of the Book of Changes can one understand the true principle of the Great Dao.

The first quarter moon appears around the eighth day of each month, and the waning crescent around the twenty-third. Mao corresponds to the Rabbit, and You to the Rooster. The Mao and You periods are gates of punishment and virtue, and also times for bathing. “Bathing” is a term in Neidan cultivation: it means regulating and nourishing the medicinal essence at the turning points between Yin and Yang. Bathing at Mao helps augment Mercury; bathing at You helps augment Lead. The third day is the new moon, when one Yang begins to return. After the full moon on the sixteenth day, one Yin begins to appear; this is called Gou. The Cantong qi says: “On the eighth day, the Dui hexagram receives the qi of the Ding day, and the light of the first quarter moon lies straight as a cord. On the fifteenth day, the Qian hexagram takes shape: the moon’s disk is full, positioned in the eastern Jia place. On the sixteenth day, the sequence passes on; the Xun hexagram’s Xin place appears at dawn. The Gen hexagram corresponds to the southern Bing place, and the last quarter moon comes on the twenty-third day.” Those who cultivate the Dao should compare these principles with the hexagrams of the Book of Changes to understand that the Great Dao has a genuine basis and must not be distorted at will.

Every character in these hundred lines should be carefully examined for its meaning. Thunder generals guard this book; anyone who receives it must treat it with due care.

This book consists of one hundred lines, totaling five hundred characters. Each character shines like a precious pearl, its meaning subtle and profound. Students should read the words carefully and ponder their principles, grasping the truths contained in each line. In this way, they may rise above the ordinary, attain the realm of the sages, and understand its profound mysteries. Heaven cherishes this scripture because it reveals celestial secrets, and the Thunder Deity protects this true teaching. Readers must not dismiss it as ordinary words, but treat it with reverence and never show it neglect.

III. Song of the True Scripture

Ah, Song of the True Scripture, Song of the True Scripture! Those who do not understand the scripture’s true meaning are easily led into confusion. Many search the written page for the meaning of its words, while many others recite them softly without cease.

“True” is the opposite of “false.” The “True Scripture” spoken of here is the scripture of cultivating the True. The genuine scripture has no written words. It is the primordial chaos that existed before Heaven and Earth took shape, the fundamental primal Qi before Heaven and Earth first divided and before Taiji arose.

The immortals and Buddhas of all the heavens depend on this “scripture” when they come into the world, and they depend on it again if they seek to transcend the world. It is the source of Heaven and Earth, of human beings, and of all things. Immortals and Buddhas cultivate it and thereby attain transcendence; ghosts and spirits also arise from it. The holy beings at sacred altars, the grotto-heavens and blessed lands, and the powers that govern creation between Heaven and Earth are all connected to it. Every matter and principle in the world, from forms arising out of nothing to the breath of Qi returning from existence to nonexistence, comes from it. The True Scripture is boundless and cannot be measured in words.

Ordinary people rely on it to have children, yet regard it as something commonplace. Those who attain the Dao use it to sustain nature and life and cultivate themselves to become True, treating it as a treasure. This fundamental principle is not rare: everyone possesses it, whether in foreign lands or China, whether rich or poor, noble or humble. It is always present, like the blue sky outside one’s house or the road before one’s eyes. Yet without a true teacher’s guidance, people do not know its wondrous workings.

Because people do not understand these workings, they often stray into deviant paths, such as the so-called “chamber elixir,” “eating filth,” or “gathering in battle and controlling women.” The scripture condemns these practices, saying that they cause people to fall into hell, where they may endure for vast kalpas without escape. People are misled by these deviant methods because they do not recognize the profound meaning of the True Scripture.

Others cling to literal interpretations, seeking arcane principles only in the wording and divining the images of the trigrams in the Bagua (Eight Trigrams). They recite and expound the text over and over, yet move ever farther from the Great Dao.

If one thinks that reciting scriptures and incantations, following ritual procedures, and writing the steps of a rite on paper can bring release from birth and death, would that not mean that every monk in the world had already become a Buddha?

Chanting incantations, reciting scriptures, and following liturgical rites: if one seeks a way to transcend merely in words and writing, it is like mistaking the true formula for something written on paper. If such practices alone could free people from the sea of suffering, raise them beyond the ordinary into sagehood, and settle the great matter of life and death, then countless people in the world have chanted incantations and recited scriptures. Yet from ancient times to the present, there has been no account of anyone becoming an immortal or a Buddha through recitation alone. We can therefore see that the true path of cultivation lies elsewhere.

Attaining the true scripture makes it possible to cross the surging waves of the sea of suffering; without attaining it, there is no way to escape. If one asks where the true scripture’s deepest mystery lies, it lies in exploring the transformations of the precelestial generative process—the source transformations before Heaven and Earth were separated and the myriad things came into being. Beyond this, there is little that is complicated.

Following acquired habits leads toward death; turning back and cultivating in the opposite direction brings life. People often search everywhere for this principle, yet never find it. The true scripture has no words, yet it can ferry all beings across the sea of suffering and bring them to Daluo, the Daoist realm of the highest immortals.

The difference between the Immortal Way and the human way lies only in whether one follows the course or reverses it. That is why the Book of Changes (Yijing) uses reverse counting to trace transformations. Following the Five Phases (Wuxing) gives rise to human beings and all things; reversing the course of the Five Phases makes it possible to cultivate into an immortal or a Buddha. The ancients also said, “When the Five Phases proceed in their natural course, the realm of existence is a pit of fire; when they move in reverse, one can escape death and live forever.”

Human life begins with its first spark. A person is born with a first cry, then grows from infant to child, adolescent, and adult, until at last they age and die. This is the course of life moving forward. Cultivating immortality reverses that process: one returns from old age to childhood, then to a state like that of a fetus, and then back to Taiji (the fundamental state from which all things come into being), finally returning to Wuji (the formless, imageless source). This is the reverse course of “non-birth.”

The thousands upon thousands of volumes of Elixir scriptures mostly explain principles. Hence the saying: “If an Elixir scripture has no oral instructions, where will you learn to form the numinous embryo?” Although reverse cultivation can enable a person to live forever, its specific methods are not readily taught, and people are often left without a clue where to begin or what to seek. Understand that the “scripture” spoken of here is not a written book, but the real patterns by which Heaven and Earth operate, like ocean tides that follow the Moon with unfailing regularity. This is the meaning of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), also known as the Qi, when it says, “Circling and beginning again, it passes through twelve stages; when the seasonal energies have run their course, one must experience them firsthand.” Grasp this “scripture,” and you can deliver living beings across, enabling them to ascend to the Great Luo and the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), the highest heaven in Daoism.

Long ago, the Tripitaka Master and his three companions spent fourteen years journeying west to obtain the true scriptures. The Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) says, “The White Tiger’s head scripture is a supreme treasure.” Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng says in A Flower on a Single Branch, “The precious head scripture, red lead, is what all the sages and perfected beings rely on to deliver and transform others.” These sayings also refer to this true scripture.

To obtain the true scripture and deliver oneself, Yin-Yang of the same kind must unite. Heaven, Earth, and human beings all come into being through the transformation of Yin-Yang. How, then, could one depart from the source of Yin-Yang transformation?

What the True Scripture says is no groundless talk. Its secrets are simply not easy for people to discover. Out of compassion, the Patriarch explained these principles to ordinary people: if you wish to find the True Scripture and cultivate the Dao to save yourself, I will explain them to you directly now.

Cultivation must pair things of the same kind so that the two can harmonize. “Of the same kind” means things that correspond to and can work together. Did the Patriarch not say, “A broken pot must be mended with iron, and a torn garment must be mended with cloth. When a person’s Jing and Qi have been depleted, without the aid of the Qi of true gold, how could there be even a chance of life among ten deaths?” The Wuzhen pian also says, “A broken bamboo vessel should be repaired with bamboo; a hen’s egg is needed to hatch a chick. Using things of different kinds is futile—how could it compare with true lead, which fits the essential key to cultivation?” It also says, “A torn garment must be mended with cloth; when a person’s Jing and Qi grow weak, lead must be relied upon to restore them.”

The Cantong qi says, “To refine the elixir that confers transcendence through ingestion, one should use things of the same kind.” It also says, “When things of the same kind unite, the work is easy to carry out; when they are not of the same kind, they are difficult to match skillfully. Like things respond to one another, and only then can the work be completed and the treasure formed.” This is like sparrows and swallows being unable to produce a phoenix, or foxes and rabbits being unable to raise a foal: they are not of the same kind.

The scriptures speak both of things being “of the same kind” and of “the two harmonizing”; the meaning is already clear, and there is no need for further doubt. If those who study the Dao can follow the principle that like seeks like, the subtle, transforming Qi will arise naturally. This is how human beings come into being, and how Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things come into being as well. The Lingbao bifa says, “The Qi of the Dao is all present within the human body; it can bring forth the heavens and make the three luminaries—the sun, moon, and stars—shine forth.” Yin and Yang are of the same kind; generation and transformation arise through Yin and Yang. Since creation is described as a “nest,” there must also be corresponding apertures.

The True Scripture spoken of here is no empty talk: gold is produced at the bottom of a ravine in western Sichuan; “five thousand and forty” returns to the Yellow Path, corresponding exactly to one volume of the Great Canon.

Only when the count of five thousand and forty-eight days has been completed will the Qi within the body reach its full course. At that point, the tides on earth and the stars in heaven will also respond to one another. What the First Patriarch Bodhidharma passed down orally was precisely this Scripture of the True, Mysterious, and Wondrous Dharma of the Lotus.

The “five thousand and forty-eight days” refers here to the cultivation period set out in the scripture. According to the commentary, before the allotted days are complete, the Qi cannot reach its full course. Once the count is complete, Heaven and Earth respond to one another: the earth answers through the tides, and Heaven through the stars. The principles governing the movements of Heaven and Earth are also the principles by which the Dao moves.

Bodhidharma is revered as the First Patriarch of Chan Buddhism. According to legend, he heard that the flourishing of Mahayana Buddhism was taking shape in the East, and crossed the sea from the West to come to China. “Passed down orally” means that teacher and disciple transmitted the teaching by word of mouth, rather than writing it down. “Lotus scripture” uses the lotus as a metaphor: its stem is hollow yet upright, and it grows from muddy water without being stained. The commentary uses this image to explain that practitioners can cultivate the Great Dao even while living in a troubled world; the so-called mysterious and wondrous method must be sought within oneself.

On the third day, the Geng position appears within the Zhen trigram, which symbolizes Yang energy beginning to stir. Above the Qu River, the moonlight is clear and bright; flower buds have just opened, still holding drops of dew. At this moment, one must enter the tiger’s lair and let the dragon rest, carefully discerning whether the medicine is turbid or clear.

Cultivating the Dao and attaining the Great Way means emerging from turbidity; it does not come only from places of stillness and purity. The truly wondrous method must be sought within it.

The third day is when the new moon first appears. The moon shows as a crescent in the southwest, at the Geng position, symbolizing the first emergence of Yang energy. The Cantong qi says, “On the third day it appears, bright; Zhen receives Geng in the west.” It also says, “On the third day Zhen stirs; on the eighth, Dui advances.” The Wuzhen pian likewise says that the moonlight shines in the southwest, where the great medicine begins to form.

At this point, the medicine is like a newly sprouted shoot: its flower bud holds dew, delicate and tender. This is the state called “the submerged dragon at the beginning of the ninth.” When the two substances of Yin and Yang meet, their dispositions and natures come into harmony; when the Five Phases are complete, the dragon and tiger entwine. To bring the dragon into the tiger’s lair and quiet it, one must first discern what is clear and what is turbid within. One must carefully observe the firing times, matching Li, which symbolizes fire, with Kan, which symbolizes water. Let Kan water replenish Li fire so that the dragon enters the tiger’s lair and rests.

Water is generated at the second stage, and only then does the medicine truly form. Once the third stage arrives, one can no longer advance. Ren water has just arrived, while Gui water has yet to appear; the medicine must be gathered in time, and its rising or sinking discerned.

The Golden Cauldron, used to refine Golden Essence, gathers the medicinal substances; the Jade Furnace, used to cook and refine Jade Liquor, works them through. The whole process depends on the gentle, simmering fire, which slowly nurtures them. Once the True Scripture—the secret formula spoken of in cultivation—is activated, it passes straight through the Mysterious Pass, the crucial aperture in internal alchemy, like an arrow striking the center of its target without the slightest error.

Heat spreads through the whole body, as though one were inside a steamer. At this point, turn the light inward and gather the mind and spirit back to the central palace, the central area of the body in internal alchemy practice. Once the True Scripture is obtained, one feels as if drunk, while the breath and all the body’s channels return to their source.

A quotation in the commentary says that the gentle fire used for nurturing during cultivation differs from the fierce fire used when gathering the medicinal substances. The scripture also describes the bodily sensations of cultivation: the space between the shoulder blades seems to turn like a wheel; the limbs feel as heavy as mountain rock; the two kidneys feel as if they are being boiled in broth, and the bladder as if it were burning. Then the breath and all the channels seem to return to their source.

The commentary says: Next, one will feel as though the bladder is burning with fire, and the two kidneys are being boiled in hot soup. The Guide to the Central Compass says likewise that the area between the shoulder blades seems to turn like a wheel, the limbs grow heavy as stones, the two kidneys feel as if they are boiling in a pot, and the bladder seems to burn with fire. These are all signs that appear during the practice of returning the Elixir, and the accounts given by different schools follow the same line of transmission. The practitioner should turn the light around and reflect inward: gather the mind and spirit, direct awareness within, and clearly observe the changes taking place throughout body and mind. Do not leave this inward keeping, even for a moment; maintain it even amid haste. When the true meaning of the scripture emerges, one may seem drunk or dazed. The “Treatise on the Firing Times” says, “All day, hazy as if drunk, at ease, simply keeping watch over the spring within.” The “Mirror for Entering the Medicine” says, “Original Heaven’s Qi and Later Heaven’s Qi: those who obtain them are often as if drunk.” This refers to the movement of primordial harmonizing Qi within the body, with the breath as gentle as spring, and to returning to the root and restoring life’s source. When cultivation reaches this stage, one may soon transcend the ordinary and enter the ranks of the sages.

Jing is transformed into Qi, and Qi is then transformed into Shen. The state of chaos continues for seven days, after which one seems to return to the state of spirit and soul. These true signs of the transformation of Heaven and Earth, it seems, are seldom discussed in the world.

The commentary says: The cultivation of the Great Elixir is the refining of Jing, Qi, and Shen into one. The initial stage is refining Jing into Qi, which is the laying of the foundation; the middle stage is refining Qi into Shen, which is the return of the Elixir; and the final stage is refining Shen until it returns to emptiness, reaching the highest realm of cultivation. This Way requires entering the state of chaos anew, as though returning once more to the womb. The “Heavenly Mechanism of Seven Days” refers to the process, within chaos, of restoring the spirit and soul and gathering the hun and po. This is the crucial transformation, the true inner secret. Most people speak of worldly principles, but what is described here is a heavenly mystery, a secret treasury of the Divine Empyrean. It cannot be fathomed by ordinary intelligence, and even spirits and gods cannot know it. Among ordinary people, it seems that few can truly understand.

Entering stillness from within life, then coming back to life from within stillness: since ancient times, immortals and Buddhas have relied on true scriptures in their cultivation. Whoever masters this transformation can save all living beings in the Jambudvipa world—the human realm.

The Patriarch says that practitioners must not cling either to seeking death or to seeking life. The ancients vowed to place themselves within walls that enclosed them on every side. Their purpose was to cultivate a resolute determination strong enough to subdue the demons within the mind. Only with such determination could they seek a way to life in the midst of death. “Dying while alive, then being born again from death” is like the world after seven days of chaos, when Heaven and Earth open anew and another scene emerges, as if the beginning of clarity were still shrouded in obscurity. This is not real death. Shao Yong said, “Yin and Yang begin to change amid a haze; the breath between Heaven and Earth mingles and circulates.” This is precisely the principle of creation and transformation described in the True Scripture. Following this process of creation and transformation, one can cultivate oneself into an immortal or a Buddha. There is no other path.

Today, some Chan monks investigate koans, receive blows and shouts, exchange sharp-witted questions and answers, cast aside desire, and speak of non-birth. These are only forms handed down in the Chan tradition. Can anyone really become a Buddha through them? True cultivation has another method. Buddhist scriptures say that the Tathagata cast a golden alms bowl into the depths of the sea. They also say that Shakyamuni later severed the vital crossing point. They further say, “Sentient beings come to sow the seed; planted in the ground, the fruit is born. Without sentience there is no seed; without nature, nothing is born.” The scriptures also speak of the Dragon Girl offering a jewel, golden lotuses emerging from the earth, a jeweled stupa rising from the earth, and the “horse-hidden aspect” attained by the Tathagata—one of the Buddha’s thirty-two marks, in which the genitals are concealed from view. Are these teachings different, or are they the same? Among Buddhist practitioners today, few truly cultivate themselves. Out of compassion, the Patriarch deliberately made these principles clear. If one can understand this True Scripture and put its method of creation and transformation into practice, then even though Jambudvipa—the human world in Buddhist teaching—is vast, it could all become a realm of immortals and Buddhas in an instant. The scripture says, “If ordinary people could all understand the secret within it, immortals throughout the world would be as numerous as flowing water.”

The Great Dao exists in stillness before the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); its source lies before our parents gave birth to us. To guide and transform the people of the world, one must rely on the true scripture and its method. If you ask what “Gui” in the True Scripture means, it means “lead.”

Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), the primordial state before the cosmos divided and Yin-Yang took shape, is the source of the Great Dao and the fundamental state that existed before our parents gave birth to us. The Cantong qi (the Daoist Neidan classic The Seal of the Unity of the Three), in the words “Primordial essence spreads like clouds; relying on Qi, it begins to form,” describes primordial essence and Qi pervading all things and beginning to generate life by relying on primordial Qi. The patriarch said, “One must seek all the way back to the first moment when a person received Qi and came into being.”

“Before birth” here does not mean the Buddhist notion of empty stillness or awakening to the absence of a self. It means realizing the source from which the “self” first took shape. To save oneself and attain the Great Dao, one must obtain the true scripture and teachings; there is no other path. Understand this true scripture, and it contains all the essentials of Neidan practice, including the cauldron and furnace and the talismanic fire. The Celestial Root and Lunar Grotto—key points where Yin-Yang Qi changes in Neidan practice—also arise from it.

If people ask what the true scripture is, lead is Gui Water, and Gui Water is the teaching of the scripture. Alas, I long to weep for all those aspiring people who have not found the way in. They toil in vain and stubbornly sit in meditation. Without meeting the right opportunity, they suffer throughout their lives and achieve nothing even in old age. It is truly tragic. The passage from the ordinary to the sage is of the utmost importance, and the opportunity to make it is hard to encounter in a lifetime. May worthy and capable people everywhere sow blessings widely by doing good deeds and accumulating merit, and practice hidden virtue by helping others without seeking recognition. Find a teacher, receive guidance, and uncover the mystery of “lead in water.” Then, by extension, everything will become clear, and in the end you will attain the state of a perfected person.

Four: Song of the Cauldron and Vessel

The foundation of the cauldron and vessel is Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang); the foundation of the Great Medicine is Jing, Qi, and Shen. To understand how to gather Jing, Qi, and Shen and bring them together in one place, one must have all three working in unison.

Practicing the Elixir Way requires a “cauldron vessel,” modeled on the form of Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth). The “form” of Qian and Kun mentioned here does not mean their appearance as that which covers and bears all things. The Wuzhen pian says, “First model the cauldron vessel on Qian and Kun.” This means to emulate Heaven and Earth and use them as the cauldron vessel for cultivation. Without a cauldron vessel, how could one obtain the so-called Great Medicine? Here, the Great Medicine refers to the Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) of the human body.

Setting up the furnace and cauldron, bringing Yin and Yang together, and arranging the firing times cannot be accomplished by one person alone. Three people who share the same aspirations and are in accord with one another must assist each other before cultivation can begin. Xue Zixian said, “When three share the same aim, they must guard carefully against danger.” This means that the three fellow cultivators must support one another with care; such companions are indispensable.

The three people mean nothing more than this: there must be a true teacher who transmits the oral instructions and explains the principles of Yin and Yang and the Three Grades of the Elixir. Only then can one devote oneself to waiting for the “bright moon” to appear.

The three work together, combining the means and resources needed to assist the true master as they cultivate in a secluded chamber. Before cultivation begins, the oral instructions must first be transmitted in secret, so that the practitioner understands the Mysterious Pass—the crucial aperture referred to in cultivation—grasps the changes of Yin and Yang and the transformations of nature, and thoroughly understands every step of the Great Elixir of Three Grades and the three stages of cultivation, without any doubt or hesitation. Only upon entering the practical stage of cultivation can one devote oneself to waiting for the appearance of the “moon.” From sighting the moon, one infers the sea’s tides, then determines the proper time by their ebb and flow. Water and fire occupy the same chamber, and life and death are used in tandem; each accords with the other.

While waiting for the bright moon, do not delay. Gather and settle the body and mind, and first lay a firm foundation through foundational cultivation. Split open the heart entangled in worldly concerns and escape the snare of binding sins; dispel the “Five Leaks”—the losses of Jing and Qi described in cultivation—and sever the “Three Corpses,” the spirits said in Daoism to dwell in the human body and obstruct the path of cultivation.

When the proper time arrives, not a moment can be wasted. One should quickly gather body and mind and turn inward to cultivate. First, one must lay a firm foundation so that the body, which readily dissipates Jing and Qi, no longer leaks them away. This is the work of beginning cultivation and setting up the furnace; the opportunity must not be missed. Cultivation begins with nurturing stillness: cut off worldly distractions and free yourself from the desires and worries that entangle body and mind. Keep from your thoughts anything that has no bearing on cultivating the Dao. Let the mind be clear as a mirror, and body and mind pure and unstained. In this way, you can guard against the “five leaks”—the dissipation through the eyes, ears, tongue, nose, and mind: the eyes lose Shen through seeing, the ears through hearing, the tongue through craving flavors, the nose through smelling, and the mind through scattered thoughts—and then eradicate the “Three Corpses.”

Eradicating the Three Corpses is like forging a wisdom sword, a symbol of inner wisdom and the power of self-restraint. With it, one refines the self—that is, cultivates one’s own nature. When the work is mature, one can communicate with the numinous and produce efficacious results. Hardness and softness, along with change and transformation, can all be wielded at will; demons and malign forces can be driven away as swiftly as lightning.

The Three Corpses are spirits said to dwell in the flesh and blood of the human body. According to legend, they do not wish people to attain long life, but instead urge them toward decline and death. When someone becomes so angry that they disregard their own safety, or sinks into sexual desire and can no longer restrain themselves, this account attributes it to the Three Corpses secretly inflaming desire and disturbing the mind. That is why people often regret such actions afterward. The Three Corpses are regarded as a major obstacle to cultivating the Dao: the upper corpse resides in the brain, the middle corpse in the abdomen, and the lower corpse in the kidneys. They are also called the “Three Peng.” Dao cultivators should first eradicate them. The Wuzhen Pian says, “When the Three Corpses are wholly destroyed, the Dao may be attained.” Eradicating them does not mean using a physical sword forged from copper or iron; it means relying on the wisdom sword. Everyone already possesses this sword, but often refuses to use it. Temper it through intention, and wield it invisibly to cultivate your nature. With time, the practice will become efficacious and spiritually responsive. The sword can unite hardness with softness, bend and extend freely, and adapt to circumstances at will; it can drive away demons and malign forces from ten thousand miles away, swift as lightning.

The sword must move as swiftly as lightning to manifest its efficacy. Then hang it in the south to guard the “crystal,” a metaphor here for a clear and pure heart. If Yin ghosts—malevolent spirits and demons—arise in the north, brandish the sword and cut them down without mercy.

The commentary says that the south corresponds to the Li trigram and symbolizes the heart; the “crystal” is a metaphor for a heart as clear as water. Practitioners must use this sword to protect the heart and spirit, so they are not sullied by worldly thoughts. Cultivating the Dao is like entering a ghost’s lair to retrieve a treasure: Yin ghosts will follow at every step. Xiao Liaozhen says, “When heterodox forces and evil spirits suddenly display their might, swing the Seven-Star Precious Sword and strike forward; at the place where you clash within the ghost’s lair, seize a luminous pearl and bring it back.” The “luminous pearl” is a metaphor for the inner treasure one seeks. “Without mercy” emphasizes that one must cut off deluded thoughts decisively, without hesitation.

Once deluded thoughts have been cut off, one must preserve stillness and purity at all times, keeping the heart bright as a mirror. Only when the mind is clear and tranquil, with nothing obstructing it, like empty space, can one cultivate before the furnace without going astray.

The commentary says that even a subtle stirring of desire makes it difficult to remain tranquil. To cultivate the Way of purity, one must restrain personal feelings and keep them from running unchecked, so that the heart becomes clear as a bright mirror, scattered thoughts disperse, and one reaches a state like empty space. Only then, when cultivating before the furnace and cauldron, will one avoid becoming entangled and falling into error. Otherwise, a single stirring of emotion can transform the entire scene before one’s eyes. The key is whether one can steady the heart and spirit. If one can hold firm, then even in a dangerous situation one can remain safe and unharmed.

Only when there are no errors can the furnace and cauldron be set in place. One must not be careless when harmonizing the vessels. If words and intentions are not in accord, the pair are not truly suited to one another. Only when the Dragon rises, the Tiger flourishes, and the conditions are aligned is it appropriate to pursue further cultivation.

Only when the mind is pure and free of distracting thoughts can one set up the furnace and establish the cauldron. The “furnace” and “cauldron” are metaphors for Neidan practice and also refer to the conditions it requires. They come from the “Divine Land of the Red County” (a name for China), and cannot be obtained simply by spending money. Even if acquired, they cannot be used at once: one must wait for the right moment and carefully bring things into harmony, without impatience. During practice, one must also wait until the “Dragon and Tiger” (Neidan terms often referring to the two forces of Yin and Yang) are strong, then apply methods such as “driving the Dragon to meet the Tiger” and “seizing the Dragon with the Tiger.” If the two Qi of Yin and Yang are not yet strong, one must not act rashly. Only when they have reached their full strength is it suitable to continue the practice.

Only when the time is right can one begin to observe inner changes and seek to open the aperture where the undivided chaos resides. Quiet the mind and observe the “Tiger’s roar and Dragon’s cry” (a state in which the two Qi of Yin and Yang stir and converge); then the “spirit water” in the Flower Pool (a Neidan term for the essence, Qi, and fluids generated through practice) will appear on its own.

Alchemy must wait until the Dragon and Tiger are flourishing before the opportunity for “return and renewal” appears. This phrase comes from the Book of Changes and refers to Yang Qi beginning to arise and the cycle starting anew. Shao Yong described this moment as “at the midpoint of the Zi hour on the winter solstice, the mind of Heaven remains unchanged”: Yang has just begun to stir, while the myriad things have yet to appear. This is a state of the precelestial Taiji, deep and elusive, like chaos at its first opening and the primordial expanse at its first unfolding. The key to opening this “aperture of primordial unfolding” lies in the transmission of a true master. When the Dragon and Tiger meet, they are like wind and clouds coming together. Gather the spirit and enter the Qi cavity (the place in Neidan practice where the spirit is focused in contemplation), quietly observing its changes; Yin and Yang contend and congeal into the “marrow of Heaven and Earth.” This marrow is spirit water, the water of the Flower Pool. It gathers there naturally, as expressed in the saying, “One need only let the spirit water enter the Flower Pool.”

When the spirit water arrives, discern whether it is rising or sinking, and do not miss the moment, lest your efforts be wasted. When “Lead meets Gui and comes to life,” one must gather and refine it in time; when “Metal meets the distant full moon,” it is no longer suitable to draw near and gather it. “Lead,” “Metal,” and “Gui” are all Neidan terms referring to changes in essence and Qi and to the timing of practice.

“Spirit Water” refers to true lead. In cultivation, one must first discern the state of Yin and Yang as they rise and descend, then distinguish host from guest, and observe changes in the movement of Qi while awaiting signs. The right moment lasts only a short time, so it must be seized promptly; if it is missed, the effort will be wasted.

When should one gather true lead? One must wait for the moment when “Gui is born,” then begin gathering and refining at once. This refers to Yin reaching its extreme and Yang Qi just beginning to arise, like the new moon on the third day, whose light gradually grows until it reaches its fullness at the full moon. If the moment after the full moon is missed, true lead has already congealed and taken shape, and it is no longer suitable to gather. “Drawing near” refers to the movement of Qi approaching and joining.

Once the moment has passed, gathering is no longer appropriate, and one must not act recklessly. Otherwise, the furnace and cauldron may become disordered, making them difficult for the cultivator to control. Failing to know when to stop leads to danger, like frost in midsummer or scorching heat in the depths of winter: such abnormal weather signals disorder. The commentary uses this image to remind cultivators to handle the timing with care and to stop the fire promptly when it is time.

When faced with such an abnormal or mistimed condition, do not act rashly. Instead, gather the mind and carefully guard the “Three Treasures” within the body—Jing, Qi, and Shen. Wait until the Qi of Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) transforms and brings about change of its own accord. Then, at the proper moment, guide and regulate it so that the movement of Qi returns to the “Yellow Palace,” a Neidan term for the center of inner cultivation.

After the elixir enters the Yellow Palace—the “Earthen Crucible” at the center of the body, also called the Yellow Court, where the elixir is placed and gently nurtured in Neidan practice—it must be tended with care. It must be warmed and nurtured for ten months without error. At the Zi hour, advance the Yang Fire to bring the Dragon and Tiger into union; at the Wu hour, withdraw the Yin Talisman to nourish and stabilize the elixir. Here, “Zi” and “Wu” are terms for the hours used in Neidan practice to mark the advancing and retreating of the firing process.

The elixir’s entry into the Yellow Palace is also called “the spirit elixir entering the cauldron.” The Wuzhen pian says, “Send it back into the Earthen Crucible and seal it fast.” This refers precisely to sending the elixir into the Earthen Crucible and sealing it securely. Afterward, continue to nurture it and carry out the firing process of the Great Orbit of Heaven. As described earlier, at the Zi hour advance the Yang Fire to bring the Dragon and Tiger into union; at the Wu hour withdraw the Yin Talisman so the elixir can secure itself. This passage describes the difference between cultivating in company and cultivating alone. Without guidance from a true master, it is difficult to grasp the method’s subtleties.

Once the elixir is secured, set the practice aside for a time. Sit upright and quiet the mind; speak and move not, and wait for the right moment. The firing process turns and cycles like a wheel, beginning again and again; the sequence of the year’s 360 days, too, must not be violated.

Observe the established time limits and principles, grasping and aligning oneself with the fundamental truths of cultivation. Clinging to the surface imagery and numerical patterns of the hexagrams and their lines will only exhaust the mind and harm the body.

The commentary explains that “do not violate the prescribed period” means carrying out cultivation within its stipulated time frame, without changing it at will. To practice the wondrous Dao, one must first understand its essential workings and bring oneself into accord with them, rather than becoming fixated on words and hexagram images. Without a thorough grasp of their deeper meaning, one may merely keep calculating the times and puzzling over details of the line images, leaving body and mind exhausted and achieving little even in old age. The commentary holds that without guidance from a true teacher, such methods of cultivation are easily misunderstood and misapplied.

As the body gradually declines, people still keep wasting their effort. This happens because they do not understand the subtle fundamental principles: they take the wrong path, yet think themselves clever, and reach old age without achieving anything. Know that in cultivation, it is almost impossible to proceed correctly without guidance from a true teacher.

Although the body gradually declines, it can still grow stronger over time if one understands how to work with “coming and going.” This refers to the use of advance and retreat in cultivation. The difficulty is that the mind may never settle. If one single-mindedly strives to seek the truth, even a slight misstep can lead to error. When lead Qi disperses and mercury Qi is lost, the Elixir cannot be formed. “Lead” and “mercury” here are terms in Neidan (internal alchemy), not physical substances. Refining lead and cooking mercury especially require a settled mind and spirit; even the faintest distracting thought can throw the practice off course.

If the Elixir does not form, one should consider whether the work of “refining the self” has yet matured. Refining the self means cultivating one’s nature and gathering the spirit, and it is a vital foundation of Neidan. The ancients said that one should not lightly attempt to return the Elixir before this work is complete. When cultivation loses sight of its subtle fundamental principles, it is easy to go astray. Water and fire must be brought into harmony: too much fire makes one restless and impatient, while too much water causes it to overflow. The two must be kept in balance. “Punishment and Virtue arrive at the gate” refers to Yin-Yang transformations of killing and generation reaching a critical juncture. This is the time for bathing and regulating the breath. One must know when to advance and when to retreat, and never violate the proper measure of cultivation.

Knowing when to advance and when to retreat leaves one with no need to fear danger. A point of elixir light, refined in the furnace fire, shines forth clearly. When the elixir embryo has matured and the qi of Dui Metal, needed by the “infant”—a term for the sign of elixir formation in Neidan practice—is sufficient, the time has come to bring forth the elixir. Afterward, it must be gently nurtured for three years, as though one were dull and deaf, unmoved by external affairs.

In Neidan practice, one must first understand when to advance and retreat, and distinguish auspiciousness from danger. “Advancing and retreating” here refers to the timing of intensifying the fire and withdrawing the talisman during elixir refinement. Following the firing times brings good fortune; missing or defying them brings danger. If one keeps the proper measure and does not exceed the prescribed limits, one can avoid danger and refine a radiant Golden Elixir in the furnace. When the embryo is complete after ten months and the infant emerges from the crown of the head, the qi of Dui Metal is sufficient, and it is time to bring forth the elixir. Then it must be gently nurtured for three years, like an infant being nursed, in a practice much like the nurturing that came before. The practitioner no longer concerns themself with worldly affairs or ordinary emotions, seeming almost dull and deaf.

One may appear dull and slow, yet inwardly be calm and joyful. In stillness, the mind and spirit are nourished, and the spirit leaves the body. One may roam freely in any direction, coming and going as if riding a white crane.

Others see someone dull, wooden, and lacking in quick wit, unaware that beneath this unassuming exterior lie precious attainments. In the “land of nowhere”—a Daoist term for a state of emptiness and stillness free of attachment—and the “sea of quiescent extinction,” a metaphor for undisturbed stillness, the practitioner finds a joy beyond words. Upon reaching this state, one can, in meditative stillness, guide the spirit out of the body. To travel through the Northern Sea in the morning and lodge by evening at Cangwu means that the spirit journeys in every direction, taking in the world’s famous mountains and the customs of its many regions. It comes and goes freely, as if soaring on a crane, in a joy beyond compare.

Riding a white crane, one leaves the dusty world behind, and the immortals of the Three Isles—legendary sea mountains where immortals dwell—come together. Though seas may become fields and the world may change, neither body nor mind is held by anything; the Numinous Terrace, a name for the mind and spirit, remains clear and at peace.

Accumulating merit, transcending the ordinary world, yet still manifesting among humanity to save living beings: only then is the aspiration of a truly great person fulfilled.

An immortal’s rank depends on the extent of their merit. For this reason, the Yellow Emperor once considered bringing the Great Dao into practice by being born into the human world: in the first life, as an ordinary person; in the second, as a minister; and in the third, as a ruler. This shows that accumulating virtue and establishing merit in the human world is worthwhile because it is difficult to accomplish great deeds in the pure, empty realm of Heaven, whereas the human world is impure and perilous, making it easier to perform good works and establish achievements.

Immortals and Buddhas alike have compassionate hearts. They travel through the world, relieving suffering and rescuing those in distress. Sometimes they reveal wondrous powers; sometimes they offer help unseen. They guide beings who have lost their way and teach them to escape the sea of suffering, reaching in every direction. This is what is meant by saving all living beings before attaining Buddhahood. Only when one’s work is complete and one’s reputation established has the breadth of heart and aspiration of a truly great person been fulfilled. At that point, great virtue and great achievement are both complete. What could surpass them?

V. Song of Gathering Gold

“Dao, Dao, Dao”—there is no clever secret. “Mysterious, mysterious, mysterious”—there is no need to say more. Opening the gateways and unfolding the hidden apertures is not difficult.

Discern the female and male qualities—that is, Yin and Yang—and bring both swords to completion. First establish a firm foundation and cultivate the mind; only then gather and refine acquired Qi. Although acquired Qi is regarded as turbid matter with form and substance, one must still nourish and regulate it first in cultivation before proceeding to refine and extract innate Qi.