《古书隐楼藏书》Vol. 9

Once the flow of qi becomes knotted and will not disperse, it turns misty and active, coming and going, rising and sinking without pattern. In one’s yuangong (the place in the body where primordial qi gathers), it is as if facing boundless Great Void; the whole body feels light and subtle, almost ready to lift off—this is what is meant by “clouds filling countless mountains.” Next, coming and going leave no trace, rising and sinking cannot be told apart; the pulse seems to stop and breath to pause—only then is it true union (in Neidan, the joining of yin and yang qi), what is called “the moon encompassing myriad waters.” In deep silence and dim obscurity, suddenly the celestial heart (the single thread of life before birth) stirs—this is one yang returning, called the living zi hour (not a fixed clock time, but the moment when yang qi naturally quickens within). The signs within this, however, still need careful explanation.

The Yamamoto edition (one recension) places beneath this passage Wang Kunyang’s (a Quanzhen lineage master who transmitted precepts) esoteric commentary. In autumn of the Kangxi wuchen year (1688), the master came south from the north and stayed at Zongyang Palace (a Daoist temple) in Hangzhou. Jing’an Yinzhen visited him and presented this book. The master bowed respectfully, read it through, and said: The heart-transmission of the Most High is all here. This is the method of completing cultivation in the world; its power to aid the world lies ahead—it cannot be judged only by one person’s body. The main drift faintly shows in the two lines “turning the creation.” Though not one word speaks of universal benefit, the refined inner work of this chapter is precisely the craft of shaping the whole world; without speaking of the world, the world is already within it. Only when practice reaches this chapter is there genuine verification to be had. Disciples, do not belittle yourselves, and do not overestimate yourselves—the great unfolding still awaits its time. He then ordered a junior to record this, so it is appended in print for those who study later to encourage one another. Taiding respectfully notes. Yide (Min Yide) adds: Jiang’s edition does not include this note; manuscript copies also omit it. The master said the great unfolding still awaits its time—and so it is.

When ordinary people hear something, their ears and eyes follow external things into motion; when those things depart, movement and stillness cease. Such movement and stillness are entirely ruled by the common folk—the senses and the acquired mind—while the Heavenly Sovereign (the master within the body, the original spirit, Yuanshen) is instead pressed into their service. This is what is meant by dwelling constantly with ghosts (the yin consciousness that turns with whatever passes).

Now one must let every movement and every stillness follow the “Person.” This Person is the True Person—the Heavenly Sovereign within the body. When he moves, move with him; that movement is the Heaven Root (the pole where yang qi stirs). When he is still, be still with him; that stillness is the Moon Cave (the pole where yin qi gathers). His movement and stillness have no fixed starting point, and you too follow him without a fixed starting point. He rests above and below, and you rest above and below with him. This is what is meant by moving freely between the Heaven Root and the Moon Cave.

The Heart of Heaven (the spark of responsive spirit when the Heavenly Sovereign acts in season) is calm by nature. If you move before the moment arrives, you err toward “tender”—moving too early. If you respond only after the Heart of Heaven has already moved, you err toward “old”—responding too late. The moment the Heart of Heaven just stirs, use true intent (intention free of stray thought) to lift into the Qian palace (the crown), guiding with the spirit-light gazing upward—that is moving in season.

When the Heavenly Sovereign rises to the Qian palace, roaming at ease, and suddenly seeks to return to silence, quickly use true intent to lead him into the Yellow Court (the body’s central region), with the gaze fixed on the central yellow spirit chamber. Then the mind that sought stillness is without a single arising thought; the inward looker suddenly forgets that he is looking. At this point body and mind open wide, every bond vanishes without trace, and even where the spirit chamber and elixir furnace (the place for settling the spirit and nurturing refinement) stand is unknown—trying to find one’s own body, one cannot find it at all. This is the time when heaven enters the earth and all subtle function returns to the root—also called concentrating the spirit and entering the qi cavity (where spirit gathers into the place that holds qi).

This returning of the light (drawing spirit-light back from outer things to shine within) first gathers what was scattered; the six faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—cease their outward use. This is nurturing the root source and adding oil to connect life (replenishing the root of life). Next, the heart already gathered rests at ease without the slightest force—this is settling the spirit in the ancestral aperture (the original aperture of spirit) and converging the pre-heaven (gathering pre-heaven unity qi). After that, every influence is extinguished and great stillness settles—this is dormant storage in the qi cavity, the myriad subtleties returning to the root.

Within one section are three sections; within one section are again nine sections—left for detailed explanation later. For now, only this: one section containing three sections. While nurturing and just entering stillness, converging is also nurturing, and dormant storage is also nurturing; later, all nurturing becomes dormant storage. The middle layer follows by analogy. The place does not change, yet different “places” appear—this is the formless aperture; a thousand or ten thousand places are one place. The moment does not change, yet different “times” appear—this is time without the names and forms of fire phases; yuan, hui, yun, and shi (cycles from the smallest to the largest scale) are no more than a single instant.

Commentary: Those without inner cultivation all lie hidden in deep concealment; the middle layer can be understood by analogy. Without changing place, places still differ—this is the formless aperture (wuxing zhi qiao): a thousand or ten thousand locations are in truth a single location. Without changing moment, moments still differ—this is timing with no fixed “season” to guard (meishi): yuan, hui, yun, and shi (the ancient units for vast cosmic periods) are no more than one instant.

Further comment: The formless aperture is the mysterious aperture (xuan qiao)—in neidan, the pivot of spirit and qi that has no fixed material form. The mysterious aperture has no fixed whereabouts; heaven, earth, and humanity are all within it—what talk then of large and small, near and far, person and thing, or the boundary between this body and this world? Timing without fixed seasons is living time (huo shi)—timing that follows the present surge of qi rather than the clock. Living time has no season one can cling to; all ages are in this one living instant; upper and lower cosmic cycles, spring summer autumn winter, zi wu mao you, and the divisions of month, day, and hour—none may be rigidly fixed.

To open the mysterious aperture, one must grasp it on living zi and living wu: when movement reaches its extreme, stillness appears; when stillness reaches its extreme, movement appears—the aperture then shows its true body; the main point lies here. Living zi is: the ten thousand things are silent; a thread of living impulse suddenly stirs, yet does not turn toward any direction. Living wu is: the ten thousand paths open together; then for an instant all is still, yet does not return toward any place. The aperture is never closed for an instant: when qi is still and silent, the aperture appears; when qi is stirred and agitated, the aperture hides. When it appears, there is awareness; when it hides, there is confusion. Awareness follows the true constant; confusion falls into delusion.

Opening the mysterious aperture absolutely does not rely on methods of shifting and turning qi; it is only in the body of stillness itself. Therefore the wise simply let spirit rest in emptiness and void, holding the light on the movement and stillness of qi—that is all—and need not deliberately seek a fixed stillness within it; thus whatever realm one enters, gain comes naturally. The application and secret of returning the light (huiguang)—gathering heart-light inward—rest entirely in this body of stillness.

By this formula, living zi can be attained and living wu can be attained. As for fixed midnight and noon, whether one gains or loses, none of it lies outside this one heart-mind. The heart-mind is precisely the source from which qi arises—this is the gist of returning to the root and clearing the source. What are called zi and wu, movement and stillness, yin and yang, are distinguished here; yet what is obtained also differs in sequence, clarity and turbidity, old and tender—often one “node” already contains nine nodes within it. The doctrine is very intricate; the five kinds of immortal kin (different grades of immortal affinity and attainment) are also distinguished from this—not something that can be finished in a sentence or two. Therefore when the master reached this point in the teaching, he said to leave further exposition for another day.

If the heart-mind has not stilled to the utmost, it cannot truly stir into motion. Restless agitation one after another is only false movement, not the movement that belongs to the root-nature itself. Therefore it is said: reacting because external things touch you is desire within nature (xing); if movement arises not from being stirred by externals but on its own, that is the operation of Heaven and Earth. One must not set “Heaven’s movement” against “Heaven’s nature” and then add another word “desire.” Desire arises only because there are external things. This is thinking that has left its proper place (chuwei zhi si), and thus one moves and moves again. When not a single stray thought arises, right thought appears—this is true intent (zhenyi): the genuine intention that naturally arises from stillness and silence, not ordinary mentation. Within vast stillness and great concentration, the celestial mechanism suddenly stirs—is this not movement within no-thought? Acting without acting (wuwei er wei) means precisely this.

The first two lines of the poem already summarize completely the function of Jinhua (the inner-alchemy practice that takes the light of xing and the primordial spirit [yuanshen] as its working basis). The next two lines speak of sun and moon mutually containing each other: the sixth month is Li fire (the Li trigram, symbolizing fire and the heart); “white snow flying” is the true yin within Li, about to return to Kun (the Kun trigram, symbolizing earth); the third watch is Kan water (the Kan trigram, symbolizing water and the kidneys); “the sun disc” is that bit of yang within Kan, about to return radiantly to Qian (the Qian trigram, symbolizing heaven). Extracting from Kan to fill Li (qu kan tian li—taking the true yang from Kan to replenish the true yin in Li) happens right here. The following two lines explain the role of the Dipper’s handle (doubing—the handle of the Northern Dipper, a metaphor for the pivot of qi’s ascent and descent): the entire mechanism of rising and falling lies in it. What is in water if not Kan? The eyes correspond to Xun wind (the Xun trigram, symbolizing wind); when the gaze shines into the Kan palace, that is gathering the sun’s essential refinement. “Heaven above” is the Qian palace; “traveling and returning, enjoying Kun’s virtue” means spirit entering qi (xian tian zhi qi—pre-heaven qi), heaven entering earth, used to warm and nurture the true fire. The last two lines point to the secret within the secret: from beginning to end one never departs from it—what is called “washing the heart and cleansing thoughts is bathing” (muyu: in inner alchemy, clarifying intent without artificial fabrication, nurturing in stillness).

The learning of the Confucian sages begins with knowing where to stop and ends in stopping at utmost goodness; it starts from wuji (the limitless) and returns again to wuji. Buddhism takes “generating mind without abiding” (the mind not clinging anywhere yet still able to give rise to subtle function) as the aim of the entire Great Canon. We Daoists need only the two words “attaining emptiness” (zhixu) to complete the whole work of xing and ming (nature and life). In sum, the three teachings reduce to one phrase: enabling people to leave the path of death and guard the spirit elixir that sustains life. What is the spirit elixir? It is having no mind anywhere at all. What our Daoist path keeps most hidden is bathing (muyu). Such a complete practice is settled by the two words “empty heart” alone. Now one phrase breaks it open—you may spare decades of seeking teachers and the Way.

You younger disciples still do not grasp this: within a single level, three levels are already contained. I will use the Buddhist three contemplations—emptiness, provisional, and middle (three modes of insight)—as an illustration. In the emptiness contemplation, one regards all phenomena as empty. In the provisional contemplation, although one knows that all things are inherently empty, one does not for that reason abolish phenomena; one still upholds all things within emptiness. Neither abolishing phenomena nor clinging to them—this is the middle contemplation. When cultivating the emptiness contemplation, one also knows that phenomena cannot be discarded, and at the same time is free of attachment; this already combines all three contemplations. Still, because the strength lies chiefly in viewing things as empty, when practicing emptiness contemplation, emptiness is indeed emptiness, but the provisional is also emptiness, and the middle is also emptiness. When cultivating the provisional contemplation, the strength lies mostly in “function” or “use”; then the provisional is indeed provisional, but emptiness is also provisional, and the middle is also provisional. At the middle way, one may also contemplate emptiness, only it is not called emptiness but called middle; one may also contemplate the provisional, only it is not called provisional but called middle. As for the middle itself, there is no need to speak of it separately.

Though I sometimes speak only of Li and sometimes bring Kan in as well, in truth I have never strayed from that one line. Open the mouth and the saying is: the pivot of operation lies entirely in the two eyes. By “pivot” I mean the operative hinge: it is what turns creation-and-transformation. That does not mean creation-and-transformation is confined to this alone. The six roots and the seven orifices are all storehouses of light—how could one take only the two eyes and treat everything else as irrelevant? To use the yang within Kan, one must still have the light of Li fire illumine and gather it; from this the point should be clear.

Zhu Zi (Yunyang, personal name Yuanyu, of the Northern School) once said: “The blind are not suited to cultivate the Dao; the deaf need not worry.” That is no different from what I mean—it only marks primary and secondary, what weighs heavily and what weighs lightly. Sun and moon were originally one thing. The true essence held in the sun is precisely the true essence of the moon; the moon cave (yue ku) is not in the moon but in the sun, which is why it is called the moon’s cave—otherwise speaking of the moon alone would be enough. The true yang gathered in the moon is precisely the light of the true sun; the sun’s light in turn rests in the moon, which is why it is called the root of Heaven (tian zhi gen)—otherwise speaking of Heaven alone would be enough. One day and one moon, taken apart, are each only half; only together do they form one whole. It is like husband and wife: living apart does not make a household; only when both are present is the family complete. Yet using things to stand for the Dao never quite fits: if husband and wife separate, they are still two people; if sun and moon separate, they no longer form a whole. Understand this, and ears and eyes are the same.

By what I say, the blind are in fact already without ears; the deaf are in fact already without eyes. From this view, what is left to say of one thing or two? What is left to say of the six roots? The six roots are fundamentally one root. What is left to say of the seven orifices? The seven orifices are fundamentally one orifice. My words only show where they connect, so one does not see two; you fix on where they are cut off, and everywhere you replace the eyes with something else.

Hundred Days Establishing the Foundation, Chapter Nine.

The Patriarch says: The Heart Seal Scripture (Gaoshang Yuhuang Xinyin Miaojing) says, “When the returning wind mixes and blends”—when essence, qi, and spirit circulate and unite—“after a hundred days the work shows its power.” In short, laying the foundation takes a hundred days. As long as inner and outer are still divided, you must keep shifting how you look at things.

Chapter Nine: Establishing the Foundation in a Hundred Days

The Patriarch says: The Heart Seal Scripture says that when the returning wind mixes and blends, only after a full hundred days does the work take effect. In short, you lay the foundation for a hundred days before true light appears. What you have now is still only “eye-light”—the light of the physical eyes—not divine fire, not nature-light (the light of original nature), and not the torch of wisdom. Refine in this way for a hundred days, and essence and qi will naturally fill, true yang will naturally arise, and within the water there will be true fire. Keep at it, and union will happen on its own and the embryo will form on its own. I remain in unknowing, natural spontaneity, while the infant (the holy child of the inner elixir) is already complete. The moment the slightest contrivance appears, you fall into a deviant path.

“Establishing the foundation in a hundred days” does not mean fixating on a hundred days; “establishing the foundation in one day” does not mean fixating on one day; “establishing the foundation in one breath” is not ordinary breathing. Breath is your own mind. Mind as breath is primordial spirit, primordial qi, and primordial essence. Rising, falling, parting, and merging all start from the mind; being and non-being, emptiness and fullness, all hinge on a single thought. Holding one breath is holding a whole lifetime—not to mention a hundred days—yet a hundred days are nothing but this one breath.

Whether the hundred-day foundation holds depends on whether you gain real leverage. What you gain by day, you use at night; what you gain at night, you use by day.

The hundred-day foundation is originally a jade decree (a command from heaven). The words of perfected ones (shangzhen) always match the human body; a true teacher’s words always match the student. This is mystery within mystery: it cannot be understood by speculation; you know it only when you see your own nature. So the student must receive the true teacher’s verification (shouji)—transmitted face to face—so it wells up from nature and every line can be tested in experience.

Chapter Ten: Nature-Light and Consciousness-Light

This chapter distinguishes nature-light from consciousness-light: nature-light is the light of original nature; consciousness-light is the light of discriminating mind-consciousness.

The master said: The method of returning the light—the practice of gathering back the mind-spirit (shen) that runs outward—runs through walking, stopping, settled sitting, and lying down; one need only grasp its inner pivot. I spoke earlier of “the empty room generates whiteness”: that light is not the color white. One point must be understood: at first, when you have not yet seen light, that very state is already proof of effect; if you take what appears as light and deliberately cling to it, you fall into conscious discrimination—and that is no longer xingguang (nature light: the innate, undivided brightness of one’s true nature).

Do not worry whether there is light or no light; only let a single thought arise from no-thought. What is no-thought? Rest in a thousand places, yet gain in a thousand places. What is giving rise to thought? Hold to this one thought alone, from birth to death. This thought is right thought—not the same as ordinary scattered thoughts. Thought is the mind of this very moment; this mind is at once light and also the medicine (in inner refinement, the single sincere heart that serves as elixir).

When a person looks at things, the instant the eye meets them, before any discrimination, that is xingguang—like a mirror reflecting without mind, like water mirroring without intent. A moment later it becomes shiguang (consciousness light: brightness entangled with discriminating awareness), because discrimination has already begun. When the mirror shows a shadow, the pure mirror-as-such is gone; when water shows a form, the clear water is no longer simply water; when light is mixed with knowing, how can it still be called light!

At first you have xingguang; turn the thought once and it becomes knowing. Once knowing arises, light cannot be found— not that there is no light, but light has turned into knowing. The Yellow Emperor said: when sound moves, what is born is not the original sound but the echo—exactly this. Water that bears an image is no longer water; light that bears knowing—where is the light?

You who study this path in later generations: at first what appears is the light of nature (xingguang, the light of your original nature); the moment a thought turns, it becomes consciousness (shi, the discriminating mind). Once consciousness arises, the light seems lost—not because there is no light, but because the light has become consciousness. The Yellow Emperor said: when sound moves, what is produced is not the original sound but an echo. That is exactly what is meant here.

The Lengyan Tui Kan Rumen says: not in dust, not in consciousness—only take the root. What does this mean? Dust is what is external, the realm of physical form (the material world), and has nothing to do with us. To pursue it is to mistake what is outside for oneself. External things must be returned: “access” returns to doors and windows, “brightness” returns to sun and moon. To treat what is not yours as yours is still not truly yours. As for what is never returned—if it is not you, then who is it? Brightness returns to sun and moon, yet the seeing of sun and moon’s brightness itself has nowhere to return. When heaven has no sun or moon, people do not lose the nature by which they see sun and moon.

If that is so, can the function that discriminates sun and moon count as what we truly own? Know that discrimination depending on light and dark—where is it when light and dark are both forgotten? So it too must be returned; this is inner dust. Only the nature of seeing (jianxing, the capacity to see) has nothing to return. Yet when “seeing” tries to see this “seeing,” that seeing is no longer true seeing, and seeing-nature must also be returned. What is returned is the seeing-nature that turns with consciousness—what Ananda meant when he said, “What makes you revolve in birth and death—the fault lies in mind and eye.”

At first, in teaching the eight returns (each of eight phenomena returning to its root), the first seven are shown each to have something to return to, and seeing-nature is left as Ananda’s staff (a provisional support). In truth, as long as seeing-nature still carries the eight consciousnesses (here, the eighth consciousness not yet released), it is not truly non-return. Only when this last point is broken through is it true seeing-nature and truly non-return.

Your turning the light inward (huiguang, returning the light of awareness to the inner mind) is precisely to return that primordial, non-returning light, so not a trace of conscious thought can be employed. What makes you revolve is only these six roots (eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind); what enables you to attain Bodhi is also only these six roots. Use neither dust nor consciousness. It is not using the root as mere organ, but using the nature within the root. If you turn the light without falling into consciousness, you use the original nature within the root; if you turn the light while falling into consciousness, you use the conscious nature within the root. The difference of a hair’s breadth lies exactly here.

To employ the mind is to employ the light of consciousness (the light of discriminative awareness). When you let go, neither the dusty world nor consciousness need be used any longer; you do not use the faculties (eyes, ears, and the other senses) as such, but the original nature within the faculties. If you turn the light inward (returning the heart-light to shine within) without falling into consciousness, you use the original nature within the faculties; if you turn the light inward while dwelling in consciousness, you use the cognitive nature within the faculties. The distinction as fine as a hair’s breadth lies precisely here.

To employ the mind is the light of consciousness; only when you let go do you have the light of nature (the light of original nature). A gap as fine as a hair’s breadth puts you ten thousand miles apart—this must not be confused. As long as discriminative thoughts do not cease, Shen (spirit) will not arise; as long as the heart is not empty, the elixir (Dan) cannot form.

A heart pure and clear is the elixir; a heart emptied is the medicine. Not clinging to any one thing is called heart-purity; not retaining any one thing is called heart-emptiness. If you still see an “emptiness,” emptiness is not yet fully emptied; only when emptiness is so complete that even emptiness is forgotten is it true emptiness.

Chapter Eleven: Union of Kan and Li

The patriarch said: Whatever lets spirit leak outward, where the heart stirs and meets outer things—all of this is Li (the Li trigram, turning outward). Whatever gathers spirit back, stills and settles, and nourishes within—all of this is Kan (the Kan trigram, hidden within). What rushes out through the seven apertures is Li; what returns inward through the seven apertures is Kan. One yin governs chasing color and following sound; one yang governs returning to hearing and gathering sight (drawing sight and hearing back inward). Kan and Li are Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang are nature and life (Xing and Ming); nature and life are body and heart; body and heart are Shen and innate Qi (spirit and pre-heaven Qi). Once breath is gathered and spirit no longer turns with the outer realm, this is true union. In silent cross-legged sitting (silent meditation in seated posture), this goes without saying.

Chapter Twelve: The Circulating Orbit

The patriarch said: The circulating orbit (a full circuit within the body) does not take Qi as master; the secret lies in the heart’s arrival (where mind-intent reaches). If you insist on pressing to the bottom of how the orbit circulates, that is forcing growth (artificially making it happen). Guard without deliberate mind; act without deliberate intent. Look up at heaven: three hundred sixty-five—the secret still lies in the heart’s arrival. If you insist on pressing to the bottom of how the orbit circulates, that is forcing growth. Guard without deliberate mind; act without deliberate intent. Look up at heaven: its three hundred sixty-five degrees shift from moment to moment, yet the pivot of the Dipper (Doushu, the pivot of the Northern Dipper) has never moved since antiquity.

Both the Jiang edition and the fair-copy versions read “Dou Bing” (Dipper Handle). Prefect Qian Tianshai’s treasured copy reads “Beichen” (North Pole star), and the copy kept by Director Zhu Shijun’s hall also reads “Beichen,” yet the commentary says one should follow the Longjiao edition and write “Dou Shu” (Dipper Pivot). The note explains: Dou Shu is the third star of the Northern Dipper, the Lu Cun star lord; its virtue aligns with the pole star of the northern firmament. The chen star is the Zhen star (Saturn), turning in its course yet never leaving its pole—so the Lu Cun star lord too has never shifted from its place since antiquity. The Northern Dipper is called the Heart of Heaven precisely for this reason. Master Shao (Shao Yong) wrote in verse: “At the winter solstice, halfway through zi, the Heart of Heaven does not change or move.” It is as steady as a door pivot, hence the name Dou Shu (Dipper Pivot). This book came from the Longjiao Mountain Studio; the common circulating editions are not to be relied on. Clearly there were usable Tao editions in the capital—why did Vice Minister Jiang not use them? One supposes he was misled by Master Wang.

My heart is the same. The heart is the Dou Shu; qi is the host of stars. The qi in the body and the four limbs and the hundred parts were originally one continuous circuit—there is no need to force or strain. Here one refines away the shi shen (the acquired, discriminating mind), cuts off deluded views, and only then does the “medicine” arise. The medicine is not a physical thing; it is the light of nature (xing guang)—that is, innate true Qi (xiantian zhen qi). It can only be seen after great stillness (da ding); there is no method of “gathering medicine.” Those who teach gathering it are deeply mistaken. When illumination lasts long enough, the ground of mind naturally brightens; the heart is empty and outflows are exhausted, and one leaves the bitter sea of the world. If today one talks of dragon and tiger and tomorrow of water and fire, in the end it is still mere imagining. What I received long ago from the Fire Dragon Immortal’s oral formula was exactly this—I do not know what the alchemical books say.

In one day there is one circuit of heaven; in one quarter of an hour there is also one circuit. Where Kan and Li meet is one circuit. This meeting within my body is heaven’s turning. When one has not yet been able to rest and cease, there are times of meeting and times of not meeting. As for how heaven itself is described—that is another matter.

A day has one circuit of heaven (zhou tian), and each quarter-hour has one as well; wherever Kan (Water) and Li (Fire) meet counts as one circuit. The union of yin and yang within my body is Heaven’s turning. People cannot stay perfectly still, so there are times when they meet and times when they do not; Heaven’s turning, however, never stops for a moment. If yin and yang truly unite in harmony (jiaotai) and the great earth is warm, one’s central palace (zhong gong—the balanced place in the body) is settled, and for a while all things thrive smoothly, that is what the elixir classics call the Bathing method (a stretch of even firing, without forcing)—is that not the great circuit of heaven? (Master Shi’an says: The line carries its own depth; do not treat it lightly. Editions in circulation today all drop this sentence.) The firing here can be spoken of as large or small, yet in the end there is nothing truly large or small to separate. (Master Shi’an says: We should enter through this insight; to halt only at the small scale is a waste.)

When practice becomes natural, one no longer knows what Kan and Li are or what Heaven and Earth are, which is “meeting,” which is one circuit or two, and nowhere can one pin down large versus small. Overall, the body’s turning is hard to grasp in truth: without truth, what looks vast is still small; with one flash of truth, a single turn carries Heaven, Earth, and the ten thousand things along with it—even within the square inch (fang cun) of the heart-mind, the utterly small becomes the utterly vast. So the firing of the Golden Elixir depends entirely on arriving at naturalness. Without naturalness, Heaven and Earth are still Heaven and Earth and the ten thousand things each stay themselves; try to force them together and they never truly join. It is like a great drought when yin and yang are out of step: Heaven and Earth have never failed to circulate day after day, yet how much unnaturalness still shows. If I can turn yin and yang and tune them to naturalness, clouds rise and rain falls in an instant, grass and trees ease, mountains and rivers run clear, and even what was perverse disperses at once—that is the great circuit of heaven.

〔This passage needs exactly this kind of sharp wake-up. What is not true is fantasy; off by a hair and you are wrong by countless miles. When self-cultivation hits truth, “healing the world” (extending from the person to the way of the world) is already implicit. Sit quietly and take it in: the patriarch is using the seasons of Heaven to test inner practice—the meaning is exquisitely deep.〕

Someone asked: If the Living Hour (huozi — the moment in Neidan when yang naturally stirs, not tied to any clock time) is so subtle, must one first fix on the Zheng Hour (midnight, eleven to one)? Would that not be clinging to form (zhuoxiang)?

Answer: It is not clinging to form. If you do not first point to the Zheng Hour, from what would you recognize the Living Hour? Once you know the Living Hour, the Zheng Hour is still there. Are the two one or two? Neither is only “zheng” (fixed/right) nor only “shi” (hour/moment)—does that count as clinging to form?

Answer: It is not clinging to form. Without indicating the Zheng Hour, there is no way to know the Living Hour; after you know it, the Zheng Hour remains. Whether one or two, neither leans wholly on “zheng” nor wholly on “huo” (living)—you must see it clearly for yourself. Once you see truly, there is no hour that is not zheng and no hour that is not alive. If you do not see truly, which is zheng, which is alive, and what would count as truly zheng?

The Living Hour can in principle be sensed at any time; at the Zheng Hour, when mind and breath are clear, the Living Hour feels all the more obvious. If you have not yet recognized what is “alive,” you may first test and verify at the “zheng” time; when the zheng appears, everything alive is marvelously present.

Chapter Thirteen: “Song of Admonition to the World” (a verse exhorting people).

The Patriarch Master says: Because my heart is urgent to deliver worldly people, I do not spare bitter words and earnest pleading, speaking again and again at length. The World-Honored One (Shakyamuni) likewise, for a weighty karmic cause, pointed straight at birth and death—a matter deeply worth sighing over. Lord Laozi was equally concerned that people have this body; he transmitted the Gu Shen (the way of nurturing spirit through emptiness and subtlety), yet people still do not recognize it. I will now briefly describe the path of seeking the True: “Yellow in the center communicates principle” (guarding the center so that qi and principle run through)—this is recorded in the Book of Changes. To sit upright and truly hold your place is the Mysterious Pass (the crucial entry for practice). The midpoint between Zi and Wu (where yin and yang meet) is where you should fix the breath. When light returns to the Ancestral Opening (where the original spirit dwells), the myriad spirits settle in peace. The elixir arises in the “rivers and plains” (where the qi mechanism springs up); from there Primordial Qi (xian tian yi qi) emerges. Change pierces the curtain; golden light appears, and a round red sun stays bright for long. Worldly people wrongly take “Kan-Li essence” (the post-heaven heart–kidney, water–fire essences) for the real thing—they only “move” heart and kidney back and forth, and that very effort becomes a barrier. How can the human way merge with the heart of Heaven? When Heaven grants a sign, the Dao naturally aligns. Let go of the ten thousand ties; let not a single thought arise—this is the true Primordial Wuji (non-polarity). The Great Void is still; discard every omen. At the critical gate of nature (xing) and life (ming), forget consciousness. Only when consciousness is forgotten do you see what is truly real—as when water clears and the pearl shows, wondrous and hard to fathom. Beginningless afflictions and hindrances empty in an instant; the Jade Capital (yu jing, the celestial abode) bestows the Nine Dragons Register (the writ of attainment). Then you walk amid clouds, ascend the celestial gate, and command wind and thunder, driving lightning and thunderbolts. Gathering spirit and fixing the breath is only the first step in; “retreating and hiding” in the secret place is constant stillness.

I once used two poems to awaken Zhang Zhennu (traditionally said to have been liberated by Lü Dongbin); they contain the essential teaching in themselves. What is called “after midnight and before noon” does not mean clock hours—it means Kan and Li (in internal alchemy, Kan stands for kidney water and Li for heart fire). What is called “fixed breath” is each inhalation and exhalation returning to the root at the Central Yellow (the body’s center, where the Yellow Court resides). What is called “sitting” is the heart not moving in vain. What is called “Jiaji” is not that one vertebra in the back, but the great road that runs straight through to the Jade Capital (the upper dantian in the head, the Mud Pill Palace). What is called the “double pass” has something here that is hard to put into words. In cultivation, the worst fault is losing hold of the spirit; what is precious is emptiness, stillness, and non-being; what you must guard is precisely this principle. Saliva is born from here, blood is formed from here, and then from here one returns to the pre-heaven: qi returns here to become spirit, spirit returns here to emptiness, emptiness here merges with the Dao, the Dao here completes its intent, and intent here fulfills what one seeks. The oral formulas cannot all be written out—the crux lies here (these thirteen lines appear only in the booklets left by our lineage’s altar). As for “thunder in the earth shaking the mountain peak,” it speaks of the arising of true qi; “yellow sprouts breaking soil” speaks of the arising of the true medicine (this line too appears only in the lineage altar booklets). In these two short passages the great path of practice is already fully stated; once you understand this, you will not be misled by others’ words.

Long ago Confucius and Yan Hui climbed Mount Tai and looked from afar at the white horse at Wu Gate (the Suzhou region); Yan Hui took it for a bolt of white silk. He used his visual power excessively, and his spirit light scattered outward and was lost—so he died young. Returning the light (gathering spirit light inward)—how can you not strive at it!

Returning the light must be done with a heart of pure singleness; you need only wait until the true breath congeals and you contemplate within the Central Palace (the true center within the body); after long practice you will naturally be able to penetrate and respond to change. In sum: a quiet heart and settled qi are the foundation; forgetting the heart and congealing qi are the verification; empty heart and settled breath mean the elixir is formed; heart and qi merged as one is warm nourishment; illuminating the mind and seeing nature is completing the Dao. Each of you should strive to practice; to miss this season of life is truly a pity. You seven—strive! One day without practicing in this way, that day is like living as a ghost; one breath practiced in this way, that breath is a true immortal. To assist and praise heaven and earth in their transforming and nourishing work— the root lies here. You seven—strive!

Preface to Patriarch Lu’s “Exposition of the Three Ni Doctrine for Healing the World”

Writing is the vessel that carries the great Dao. I had long heard that such a secret text existed in the world. When I was about twenty, I served Master Dongli on Tongbai Mountain. The master was from Fengtian (the region of present-day Shenyang); he was over one hundred and ten years old and surnamed Gao. Governor Gao of Zhejiang and Fujian was of the same clan; when he toured the frontier and passed that mountain, he asked the master about the Three Ni Doctrine for Healing the World. The master said: “I once saw it in the inner compilation of Wang Yangming’s Kuizhongshu, which his disciple Wang Longxi had carved and circulated—it speaks of the great Dao by which Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor governed the realm through their own persons. I also heard the immortal Li Niwan, who remains in the world, speak of it. My disciple Shen Yibing met him three times and asked him about the two words ‘Three Ni.’ Niwan said: ‘This teaching was transmitted from Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor; it was unfolded and made the basis of doctrine by three great sages—Zhongni (Confucius), Muni (Shakyamuni), and Qingni (Laozi). Disciples of the three traditions—Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist—each described the path of entry; these were gathered into one compilation, sometimes called an exposition, sometimes a heart transmission, sometimes a manual of practice, sometimes a record of efficacy. It has now been lost.’ What I heard from Master Gao in those days was only this.”

On the twenty-sixth day of the tenth month of the Bingwu year of the Qianlong reign (1786), my grand-master Taixu Weng passed away on that day; two days before his death he handed me a book and charged me to keep it hidden and not to reveal it. At that time my mind was still careless, and I did not guard it strictly; a friend took the book to Jinning and borrowed it for a long time without returning. That volume was Patriarch Lu’s Manual of the Three Ni Doctrine for Healing the World. In the Jiyou year, when Zhu Shijun, educational commissioner of Zhejiang, came on inspection to Huzhou, I visited him at the Youwen Hall and learned that he treasured this work and would not show it—so I strongly suspected that portions were missing. I also heard that the copy kept on Jingai Mountain was complete, and that I was regarded as honest and trustworthy.

Here, “Three Ni healing the world” means harmonizing the teachings of the sages of the three traditions—Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist—and through cultivating oneself to heal and govern the world; it is not ordinary medicine for treating illness.

I had heard that the copy kept at Jingai Mountain was complete; because people considered me honest and trustworthy, they asked me to go and request it. I did not obtain it and had to return empty-handed. He then brought out his own collected copy for me to see—a manuscript copied by hand in the Ming dynasty, with a colophon by the Lord of Chengyi (Liu Ji). I intended to copy it, but just then the master was packing to travel to another prefecture or commandery, and in the rush I never finished the transcription.

Four years later, while serving and traveling abroad in office, I passed Chicken Foot Mountain and visited the immortal “Chicken Foot Daoist” at Longshu Hermitage, who was still alive in this world. This immortal’s surname was Huang and his given name Shouzhong; he was a man of the ancient Western Region kingdom of Yuezhi who entered China in the Yuan dynasty and lived long on Chicken Foot Mountain, hence the title. In the sixteenth year of the Shunzhi reign he went to the capital and sought from Kunyang Wang the Lüshi (Wang Changyue, transmission master of precepts in the Longmen lineage) investiture in the Supreme Three Major Precepts (the three ordination platforms of Quanzhen Daoism). At first he had no personal name and styled himself Ye Tabpo—meaning in Chinese “one who seeks the Dao.” The Lüshi, seeing that he had lived in China for many years, gave him the Han-style name Huang Shouzhong. To this day the people of Yunnan call him Master Huang the Realized One. He is already more than five hundred years old, yet his appearance is like that of a man in his sixties; his eyes are bright and his voice rings like a bell.

There were few books on his desk. Besides the Buddha Speaks the Dhāraṇī Sūtra for Sustaining the World, there was only the Account of the Three Ni Doctrine for Healing the World (a treatise on remedying the age through the teachings of the three “Ni”: Confucius as Zhongni, Śākyamuni, and Laozi as Qingni). When I checked, it was exactly the same work I had seen at Dongli and that the spirit of Taixu had mentioned. I asked him for it; he refused. I then asked to copy it. He smiled and said: “There is no need. Go back and seek it yourself. With sincere searching, those two fine books will come together on their own. The time is not yet right; wait a while.”

So I asked: “I once obtained Patriarch Lü’s (Lü Dongbin) gong formula for the Three Ni healing of the world, transmitted by that great master Taixu—before I could read and digest it carefully, a friend took it away. How does this book compare?” He answered: “I once had it too; it is a good book, and you too will surely obtain it later.” I asked again: “Has the master practiced this teaching?” The master said: “One must watch the times—watch the times!” I pressed once more: “Why did a sage like Confucius not use this Dao method to heal the world?”

Some say: a sage is one who establishes the supreme norms of human relations and extends that teaching through ten thousand generations. Confucius’s Dao is vast; it is not confined to his own age alone. When King Cheng of Zhou fixed the tripods at Ying and Luo (near present-day Luoyang) and secured the royal enterprise, divination said Zhou would hold the realm for seven hundred years; by the end of the Spring and Autumn period, that span had in effect run its course. Who can be sure it was not the sage’s wondrous merit of “assisting Heaven and Earth in nurturing the ten thousand things” that shored up a failing mandate and thereby appealed to Heaven to renew and prolong the decree?

Others say: if the Master had truly used this teaching to save the world, the realm should have been well governed at once.

The reply: in Spring and Autumn times calamity was like a deep sea, and the qi of slaughter was about to open; Heaven therefore did not intend the realm to be settled immediately. Qi of cruelty and waste summons depletion and want; qi of licentious excess summons flood; qi of wronged and suppressed grievance summons great drought; qi of rebellion and disorder summons arms. When such perverse qi accumulates long and cannot disperse, primordial qi is cut off and cannot flow freely. A sage without rank can cultivate the good already in people’s hearts but cannot uproot evils already formed in the world. When the teacher’s way is established, good people increase; when good people are many, one age’s qi-fortune can be sustained. Those who disturb order on their own—Heaven gathers and destroys them; that is not something a man in plain cloth (a scholar without office) can govern.

Asked again: then does this teaching sometimes fail to apply?

Answered: a good physician treats illness by first removing the root cause, so that primordial qi can flow. Have you not heard Laozi’s words—“Dao is great, Heaven is great, Earth is great, and the king is also great”? “The king is also great” means that within the four seas, myriad millions of living beings turn toward the king, and the king holds the power to turn heaven and earth. When Dao and power unite, one can deploy arms, punishments, rites, and music, remove old customs and renew the age’s wind; only with power can one cut out the root and settle the realm. Dao alone, without power—how could it pacify and transform even the vicious and corrupt?

Illness in the world falls into two kinds: illness people bring upon themselves, and illness brought by heaven’s decree. Human-caused illness arises from the gathering of liqi (violent, discordant qi); as the saying goes, “the harm one makes for oneself cannot be evaded”—only those who hold authority can cure it. Illness from heaven’s decree can be eased by xieqi (harmonious, concordant qi); as the saying goes, “disaster sent from above can still be turned back”—only those who have attained the Dao can cure it.

Yet heaven’s decree also shifts with human affairs. If liqi can be dissolved before it has even sprouted, heaven’s decree will respond in kind. When heaven’s decree is unobstructed, yuanqi (the primordial qi of heaven and earth) is unobstructed; when yuanqi is unobstructed, dahua (the great transformation and nurturing of the myriad things) is unobstructed. This Dao then runs through everything without end.

The junzi (noble person) in high position makes the earth level and heaven complete so that all under heaven finds its place, leaving nothing among the myriad things unattended; the junzi in low position completes others and opens the way for others, greatly benefiting the myriad things as well. To heal the age with the Dao does not mean abandoning the Dao because of the ways of the age.

Moreover, in a time of true peace, when the four seas are calm and a great sage rules above, Dao and authority align. Within the realm there are no stubborn people or corrupt officials brewing disaster to block the qiji (the pivot of heaven-and-earth qi in motion). Then this Dao can circulate freely; even an ordinary scholar may share in assisting heaven and earth and transforming the myriad things, helping and completing what others cannot see or hear. If, amid the generation of the Five Phases and the hundred things, partial calamity or minor tribulation appears by chance, applying this Dao to remedy it accords with the humane ruler’s intent above and saves living beings from distress below—how could the effect fail to follow like an echo to a sound?

What I received in instruction from Huang Zhenren (an immortal who had attained the Dao) was exactly this. In the guichou year I traveled to Dongting’s eastern hills and lodged with the Zhu family. Zhu was the kunsun (grandson on the brothers’ line) of my elder in the mountains, Jiuhuan Weng (an elder who took “Nine Returns” from alchemy as his style name), and he loved arcane learning. He brought out two volumes from his collection; one was a book treasured in the Wenzhong Zhengtang (the hall of the minister posthumously titled Wen Zheng), also a copy, but without a colophon in a famous hand’s own writing.

One version of the text was copied by hand by Shian, the precept master (lüshi), in his Longqiao Shanfang study, compiled under the title of what had been transmitted by Patriarch Huang, styled Yinzhen (Hidden Truth). Its meaning is clearer and more fluent; it is likely the “detailed and excellent edition” spoken of by Jizu Zhenren, the immortal of Chicken Foot Mountain. I therefore asked to take the book back with me. At that time I had not yet heard its subtle doctrine and rashly assumed I would practice it only after my own Dao was accomplished. This dragged on until the fifth year of the Daoguang reign, when my elder Taixu Weng showed me the gong formulas for healing the world through self-cultivation that he had received in transmission earlier. I was also fortunate that Lü Zu (Lü Dongbin) descended to the sand table and gave instructions— the Daoist practice of inviting a spirit to write on a sand tray— in words that ran to ten thousand characters, so that the arcane principle at last became clear. Only then did I regret that the formulas transmitted in our lineage had been taken to Jinning by a friend and had not been returned to this day. Fortunately Jizu Zhenren had said that this method must be obtained by oneself. I therefore copied out the sand-table instructions in detail, gathered what I had heard in daily life, and assembled them with commentary. Where Confucian and Buddhist views were relevant, I drew on scriptural passages to supplement the text. Because I had not yet read the Chishi Jing (Scripture for Sustaining the World), I appended seven observations from my own limited understanding, copied them into one volume, and set out in full the course of how this detailed book came into my hands, so as to dispel doubts that nothing could verify it, intending to share it with fellow practitioners on the path.

After the draft was finished, someone who saw it asked: “This Dao method may be practiced only by those who truly intend to benefit the world; can someone who acts from private motives practice it as well?” I started up in alarm and said: “What kind of talk is that! A mind full of private intent has already turned away from the Great Dao— it absolutely cannot be done. Lü Zu once warned through a spirit altar: ‘In the movement of the two qi (Yin and Yang), Yang is De (virtue) and Yin is punishment (xing). The moment private intent moves, one falls into Yin. Centrality, correctness, and kindness are De; perversity and violence are xing. If one lacks a heart to benefit things and help the world yet tries to use one’s own qi to stir the qi of Heaven and Earth, what one summons is the qi of punishment— and there is no room for the slightest slip. Heavenly demons will respond; heavenly gods will punish. Disaster comes with extreme speed; it is self-destruction. Through kalpa after kalpa there is no pardon, and regret comes too late.’ Such is the clear instruction of the patriarch.”

Those who study the Dao must first and foremost set their hearts right. This is written expressly as a warning to those who treat this book as a mere plaything or handle it lightly. Written on the full-moon day of the first month of summer in the wuzi year of the Daoguang reign (1828), with respect, by Min Yide, eleventh-generation legitimate heir of the Longmen lineage (a branch of Quanzhen Complete Perfection).

Original Preface

At the beginning of the cosmos, the Dao established itself as the “One.” It truly cannot be uprooted, yet it relies on nothing; it is firm and cannot be shattered, yet it dwells nowhere. There is no second, no gap; no inside, no outside. In stillness it is not ordinary stillness; in movement it is not ordinary movement. Hard and soft, firm and yielding are not yet divided—and from here arise ultimate hardness, ultimate softness, ultimate firmness, and ultimate yielding. It is the mother that gives birth to the ten thousand things and the root of the Great Dao, called the “True One.” The True One is pre-heaven Jing (essence), vivid and alive; once it stirs, it cannot be stopped. Stirring is “penetration”; penetration is Yang. Withdrawal is Yin. This one penetration and one return is the beginning of Qi (vital energy). Yang, clear, rises; Yin, turbid, descends—clear and turbid are the beginning of form. Thus the True One is the origin of heaven and earth: it manifests all existence and returns all existence to emptiness—this is Wuji (Non-Polar). Because it is “non-,” there is no barrier, so it is utterly spirit-like and utterly luminous; because it is “non-,” there is no attachment or obstruction, so it can bend and stretch. Human beings and the ten thousand things receive this spirit-like principle and thereby have “nature” (xing); receive this bending-and-stretching Qi and thereby have “life” (ming). All things are within nature and life; nature and life are both within the True One. Beyond nature and life there is neither Dao nor teaching; Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all spring from this one source. Confucianism fully develops nature to establish life; Buddhism sees nature to deliver life; Daoism completes nature to restore life. Confucianism penetrates through to the One; Buddhism takes refuge in the One; Daoism attains this One. When their teachings reach their utmost, nothing is beyond their reach; they spread through the four great continents (the four continents of the Buddhist world), without limit. The Confucian Way can settle heaven and earth and nourish the ten thousand things—wherever it passes, nothing fails to be transformed; whatever it preserves is wondrous. The Buddhist Way can practice giving without clinging to marks—the merit in the void above and below, in the four directions, cannot be measured. The Daoist Way can let the ten thousand things arise without refusing, nurture life without claiming credit, act without possessing, achieve success without dwelling on it. The aim of all three traditions is to save the world through wuwei (non-action)—not to abandon oneself to chase worldly affairs.

From the moment life exists, others and I alike possess this same nature (innate nature before birth) and this same life (the life received at birth)—we share this one Dao. Though our forms are separate, our qi interpenetrates; once qi connects, nature and life extend to their utmost. All that heaven covers and earth bears is linked by the inhaling and exhaling of this single qi. When the Dao is in me, I can master it.

At the beginning this Dao has not a single thing; at the end it leaves not a single thing out. Yet it wondrously transforms and nurtures the ten thousand things and still claims none of them as its own. What Dao is this? It is the Dao of True Unity (the fundamental Dao of undivided oneness). Perfecting oneself and perfecting the ten thousand things are both matters within the Dao. When each thing settles its nature and life, the fullness of the Dao is complete; to leave the world and stand apart from it is not to be called Dao. The teaching of healing the world (yishi—using the Dao to harmonize and settle the world) arises from this.

The complete original scripture on healing the world was kept in golden bamboo slips and a jade casket (precious volumes not lightly shown), stored in the heavenly treasury (tianfu—the vault of heaven), and could not be widely seen in the world. The full original also contained Confucian and Buddhist discourse on healing the world. Celestial Master Preceptor Kunyang Patriarch Wang (Wang Changyue, transmission master of Quanzhen Longmen ordination, dao name Kunyang) heard from someone unusual: “The relevant Confucian classics were destroyed in the Qin dynasty, the Buddhist ones in the Jin dynasty—they can no longer be seen in the world.” What circulates in the world is only the Daoist method for entering the work of healing the world.

When Patriarch Lu (Lu Dongbin) was in the world he heard this account and expounded the meaning of the original scripture, transmitting it to his dharma heir (successor in the lineage). That was commentary on the scripture, not the scripture itself, so the language is plain and easy to understand; the subtle meaning of the text and the stages and timing of practice (gonghou—the sequence and “fire times” of cultivation) are not yet fully treated—it only follows the introductory order of Daoist healing the world. Its main point, though the path differs from Confucian and Buddhist gates, converges in one, hence the name “Three Nis” for this book (the combined title of the sages of Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism). After Patriarch Lu ascended and was certified as a Golden Immortal, he also personally sought confirmation from the Three Nis. Thus the spirits in heaven of the Three Nis proclaimed the great Dao that joins heaven and earth and assists in completing the transformation and nurturing of things.

May those who aspire to this Way hear these words, carry them forward, and put them into practice, so that generation after generation may enter a realm of benevolence and long life. Readers of this book must on no account treat it lightly or with disrespect. The original was a manuscript kept in this mountain’s lineage for generations, until it was taken away by someone unknown. Thanks to Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) descending to the altar—manifesting at the liturgical platform during zhaijiao to teach—the wording and meaning were especially thorough; they were therefore copied out with reverence, and a few lines were added at the head of the scroll. On New Year’s Day of the Jiachen year of the Kangxi reign (1664), Tao Taiding, ninth generation in the orthodox Longmen lineage (the authentic transmission of the Quanzhen Longmen school), respectfully composed this preface at Longgiao Hermitage on Mount Jingai.

Exposition on Patriarch Lü’s “Three Nis Medical Salvation of the World”: What Patriarch Lü calls “Three Nis Medical Salvation of the World.” The Three Nis are Zhongni (Confucius), Muni (the Buddha), and Qingni (Laozi); “medical salvation of the world” means healing the way of the age and delivering people from distress.

Inscribed by Huang Shouzhong, ordained disciple of the eighth Longmen generation; compiled by Tao Taiding, ordained disciple of the ninth generation; annotated with care by Min Yide of the eleventh generation; proofread by Shenyang Yigong of the twelfth generation.

Patriarch Lü was a great-grand disciple in the line transmitted from the Supreme Sovereign’s (Tai Shang, often identified with the Supreme Old Lord) gate through Guan Yinzi (traditionally said to have received the Daodejing directly). He was originally of the Tang imperial house, surname Li, personal name Qiong, courtesy name Boyu. To escape the troubles of Empress Wu (Wu Zetian), he and his wife, née Jin, withdrew to a deep valley on Mount Song, changed his surname to Lü, personal name Yan, courtesy name Dongbin. After his wife’s death he took the sobriquet Chunyang; he was a disciple of Patriarch Zhongli (Zhongli Quan), and Emperor Shizu of Yuan enfeoffed him as “Jinghua Fuyou Dijun” (Sovereign Lord Who Warns and Transforms with Sincere Blessing).

The Three Ni denote Confucius, the Tathāgata (Buddha), and Laozi. The Xinyinji Jing (Heart Seal Collection Scripture) says: “The Blue Ni (Laozi) pushes the ultimate to the center; Zhong Ni (Confucius) harmonizes with the timely center; Muni (the Buddha) returns to emptiness. The Three Ni successively take one another as teacher, and Wen Ni assists from the side. That the way of the Three Ni could spread relied on Wen Ni to praise and expound it—widely deploying teaching to assist the root of generation and transformation.” These are words from Yuanshi’s (Yuanshi Tianzun, the Primordial Heavenly Worthy) edict concerning Wen Ni. This scripture also states that the Chunyang True One’s style-name is Wen Ni; his charge is to warn the world through teaching, so he was commanded to inherit and extol the way of the Three Ni, broadly apply education, supplement the root source by which the myriad things are generated and transformed, distribute the way of the Three Ni to the world, and secretly bless the people below. Patriarch Lü united Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism in preaching—this came from Heaven’s mandate—so the baogao (eulogistic proclamation of a deity’s titles and merits in Daoism) also calls him teacher of the Three Teachings.

The Yishishuo (Medical Discourse for Healing the World) is the refined essence of the three sages; it can nurture and develop the myriad things, and in loftiness it reaches up to Heaven. Since Heaven and Earth were opened, no way under Heaven has been greater. Patriarch Lü elucidated it to inaugurate teaching that, through measureless kalpas (aeons of immeasurable length), still cherishes and protects the people and keeps them at peace. The method of entry, though belonging to the Mysterious Gate (Daoism), in truth rests on nothing other than ding and jing as foundation. Ding and jing are the shared gateway of the three traditions: ding is the mind’s abiding in a settled state; jing is the cessation of wandering thoughts. Because Daoist practice is comparatively plain and easy to grasp, it is singled out here to instruct people. As for exhausting one’s nature and knowing Heaven’s mandate, until the work extends to Heaven and Earth—all of this is included in the great Way common to the Three Ni. Patriarch Lü wrote the book and transmitted it to disciples; successive patriarchs treasured it in the mountain retreat at Meidao Longqiao. That place was the separate estate of Master Huang Yin, a lüshi (ordination master in Daoism who transmits precepts); the old site still exists today, about two li from Yun Chao, on the eastern slope of Mount Jingai. The original preface was composed by Master Tao, “Stone Hermitage”; the title came from Master Yin. Calling it Lü Patriarch’s Exposition of the Three Ni Medical Discourse for Healing the World precisely means that beyond this book there is the Three Sages’ original scripture—Patriarch Lü only unfolded its meaning to teach people.

The First Step — Da Zhuang

Here the hexagrams of the Yijing are used to explain each stage of practice; the account does not strictly follow hexagram qi or seasonal timing. Da Zhuang says “beneficial to be firm and correct.” “Great” here means “upright” or “correct.” In this hexagram Qian is within and Zhen without. Qian is Heaven and the head; Zhen is arousal and rising, so the work begins here. “The Sovereign emerges from Zhen”: the Sovereign is Taiyi (the supreme One), that is, the lord of the True One (Zhenyī). In the imagery of Zhen and Xun, the eyes characteristically show much white: when intention fixes the gaze on the brain and the eyes look upward, much of the whites show—meaning one should fix attention on the Qian palace (the heavenly position corresponding to the head). Zhen is the stirring of Yang; intention is what the heart sends forth, that is, Yang qi in motion.

Hence the method is said to be: first close the eyes and, with intention, gather the gaze inward and fix it once upon the brain.

The Guizhong Shu gives the same wording. “If one says” (ruo yue) marks that this is not original text from the classic itself. The root scripture is terse and obscure; Patriarch Lu (Lü Dongbin) expanded its meaning, as if to say the procedure is just this. Master Tao (Tao Hongjing) had no “if one says” in his version; the second line has “slightly” (wei yi), and after “brain” there is “border” (ji); “fix once” appears as “preserve and guard” (cun shou). Patriarch Lu said: what you preserve is the True One, what you guard is the True Origin (Zhenyuan). The True One is nature (xing); the True Origin is qi. The brain is the sea of marrow (where essence gathers), and also the gathering place of heavenly nature—like the Jade Clarity (Yu Qing) realm above; that realm is utmost purity, high above sun and moon, the heaven of Great Void (Taiwu). Once you understand preserving and guarding, you naturally can clarify the Dao.

The Kuizhong text matches what is recorded here. Tao’s edition writes zhong as ji, adds the two words men shang in the following line, and renders zhu zhi as yi zhu.

Lu Zu said: The brain is the Jade Pure Palace (Yuquing Gong) of the human body—the abode where Yuanshi Tianzun dwells. The crown of the head is called the fontanel; the point is named Baihui (Hundred Convergences), the place where the Three Origins (Sanyuan)—the innate primordial roots said to unite at the crown in Daoist practice—gather. From here one links upward to the True One (Zhenyi) of the Three Heavens, that supreme, undivided innate authenticity. When you pour mind-intention into the crown, the True One can be felt and answered, and true primordial essence (Zhenyuan) gathers and pours in. If you see red and yellow specks like stars raining down, that is the sign. The True One has no visible form; what a person can see is Zhenyuan. Zhenyuan is the Qi that the True One generates and transforms. This is the inner-cultivation teaching that takes the crown as the place of communion with Heaven and uses those falling points of light to test whether Qi has been attained.

Yi De notes: The Book of Rites says that the ten thousand things take root in the Great One (Taiyi), divide to become Heaven and Earth, turn to become Yin-Yang, change to become the four seasons, and spread out to become ghosts and spirits; when it descends into a person it is called ming (life or mandate), and in Heaven it holds sway. Taiyi is the True One—the sovereign of Heaven. The head is the heavenly gate (tian que) of the human body, so receiving the Yang of Qian (Heaven) must be done at the head. The Book of Changes speaks of “the origination of Qian” and also that Qian “leads forth the myriad things”; Qian is both Heaven and the head. The Yu clan’s Changes treats Qian as xing (nature)—the nature that Heaven’s mandate bestows. Using heart and eye to “pour attention there” (zhu zhi) is what the Book of Documents calls “turning to uphold Heaven’s bright mandate”; Zhu Xi glosses this as keeping the gaze steadily fixed upon it. A Buddhist sutra speaks of the “Great Buddha Crown Shou Tuoluoni”—wisdom-light like the sun on the Buddha’s crown—and also of the Tathagata’s unseen crown-mark and the mind-Buddha of Wuwei (non-action); it also says that rubbing the crown can awaken a person. All of these point to the light of human nature at the crown. Confucian and Buddhist paths for healing the world, when their scriptural meanings are set beside one another, align entirely with the aim of this book.

This is the first step in beginning cultivation practice.

The wording in the Guizhong Shu is the same. In Tao Hongjing’s edition, the two characters “gongfa” (method of practice) appear beneath this line at each step. Patriarch Lu (Lu Dongbin) said: fa is the rule, gong is the function. “First close the eyes” is because the eyes are moved by the heart-mind and are used to mobilize qi and shen. The Falu says: the spirit in the eyes, when in heaven, is the two marshals Gou and Bi. In the human body, when walking it gathers at the two Yongquan (Bubbling Spring) points on the soles; when sitting in stillness it gathers at the kidneys on both sides of the waist. “Close” means to concentrate and gather. “Slightly, as if” means there is something there yet it seems as if there were not. Yi (intention) is the command of heart-spirit; only when the command is issued does action follow, like a ruler issuing an edict. “Direct upward” means penetrating through the crown and continuing upward, to welcome and receive the yuan of the True One (xiantian chunyide yuanqi, the primordial, purely unified vital breath), so as to protect and sustain this body and the world one inhabits.

The explanation of the second step.

Guai: the inner trigram is Qian (Heaven), the outer is Dui (Lake). The Yixiang says “Qian is spirit, Dui is penetration”—qi and spirit interpenetrate, meaning drawing Qian qi downward to run through and connect. Guai is decisive judgment, using firmness to decide over softness; the way of the junzi grows while the way of the xiao person recedes; xiao person refers to yin. The Que Gate opens downward to the abdomen; the abdomen belongs to yin, so one leads Qian yang downward to pour in, in order to decide away yin.

Thus from Baihui (Hundred Convergences) one goes downward to the chest at Quepen.

The Guizhong Shu is the same. Tao’s version reads: the way of the xiao person recedes; xiao person refers to yin. The Que Gate opens downward to the abdomen; the abdomen is yin; lead Qian yang downward to pour in, to decide away yin.

Thus from Baihui downward to Quepen.

The Guizhong Shu is the same. Tao’s version has “continuing from the brain’s border, downward to the chest hall.” Baihui is an acupoint name, on the crown of the head; Quepen is also an acupoint name, at the chest. Patriarch Lu said: though yi is not spoken of here, yi is already within it. “Downward” is leading the Primordial One together downward; savor the next line carefully and it becomes clear of itself.

Qian—that is, the Qian hexagram.

“Yuan, Heng, Li, and Zhen” refer respectively to origination, penetration, benefit and harmony, and uprightness. Origination means that change and transformation arise from the beginning of Fu (when the first yang line returns at the bottom of the hexagram), tracing the thread of what is hidden and subtle; all things take their start from here. Penetration means yang threading through yin. Each person rectifying their own nature and allotted mandate is what is meant by benefit and harmony and uprightness. Above the heart is yang; the abdomen is yin. The chest is where yang first opens toward yin; the world’s deepest workings all rise from here, so the mind must not be vague or restless. Within Qian (pure yang) Kun (pure yin) lies concealed; only by using stillness to master movement can one taste ease and leisure. Embodying the virtue of Qian means rigidity, strength, centrality, correctness, purity, refinement, and spirit. With these seven qualities one can know that form and appearance (sexiang) are originally empty and leave not a single thread of attachment.

The spirit roams in the quiet inner chamber, and the body finds the pleasure of ease. The wording recorded in the basket is the same. Tao’s version reads “guard the chest hall and leave not one thread hanging,” meaning to hold the chest center and be without obstruction. Min Yide notes: the Yijing says “clear brightness is present in the person” (qingming zai gong), and the Heart Sutra says “the five skandhas are all empty” (wuyun jie kong)—they speak one principle. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) said: first, do not be rash or impatient; second, do not fall into dullness; third, do not be reckless or dissolute. Understand that originally there is not a single thing—where are “others and self,” inside and outside? Bright and open, penetrating heaven and earth. The myriad things appear only because the mechanism moves; what appears is not the substance of mind. When they appear, do not scrutinize; when they vanish, do not chase—like clouds crossing the void, let them pass. What one should welcome is clear brightness kept full to the utmost, and harmonious qi received only in modest measure. This step, the Cantong qi (Zhouyi cantong qi) calls “superior virtue” (shang de). Virtue lies in clarity, emptiness, and quiet ease, without a speck of dust; one must not stick to gain and loss or being and non-being—only then is it true practice.

This is the second step in beginning cultivation.

Patriarch Lu said: In this step, confused and chaotic visions are bound to appear. If the heart-mind is even slightly stuck or disturbed, the sovereign spirit that presides over the body will go wrong; not only is there no benefit, the harm is quite serious, and the next step cannot be begun at all. How can one fail to be on guard! Min Yide privately thought: If one can grasp the flavor of the two ideas “roaming” (you) and “leisure” or “ease” (xian), the meaning becomes clear on its own, and one’s practice will match the patriarch’s admonition.

Teaching on the third step

Coupling (Gou hexagram: yielding meets firm; one yin begins to arise)

The inner trigram is Wind (Xun); the outer is Heaven (Qian). The Judgment says: “Coupling is meeting—yielding meets firm.” Yin is yielding. “When firm meets the central and correct position, it can move greatly under heaven”—this means using firmness to govern yielding. The fifth line, centered and correct, is therefore called firm meeting the center. Yin has only just begun to arise, so one should apply lezhao (gathering the spirit and holding steady illumination). Coupling and Return (Fu) are paired opposites (all six lines flip yin and yang): in Return, dragon and serpent both lie hidden; in Coupling, the ten thousand things flourish—this is the principle of yin and yang concealing each other. The Image says: “Heaven and earth meet, and every kind of thing comes fully into view”—hence the ten thousand paths open at once. “Wind under heaven”—then there is no road that cannot be passed.

The temporal phase is exactly noon; the secret is solely diligent illumination.

The Zishu zhong shu text is the same. Tao’s edition adds “and then” (yier) before the first sentence and reads the next line as “the ten thousand paths open together.” The meaning: at this point the fortune of the middle yuan (middle cycle) is strong—people are many and resources ample, nothing is lacking—yet there is something to fear: when the sun reaches noon it must slope west, when the moon is full it must wane. Therefore lezhao must be raised. Noon, in the world, is the middle yuan; in the body it is the heart; in practice and firing it is the “living wu hour”—precisely when one yin is first born, and one should lezhao.

Retreat (Dun hexagram: withdrawal)

The inner trigram is Mountain (Gen); the outer is Heaven (Qian). The Image says: “Heaven above mountain—Retreat. The noble person therefore keeps distance from petty people, not showing hatred yet maintaining dignity.” The noble person stands for Qian; Qian signifies distance and severity. One has not yet taken the foremost place, yet one’s position is already remote; remote and severe together—this is the method of rectifying the root and purifying the source (zhengben qingyuan). The firm lines are in their proper places, while yin gradually increases, so the image is one of skew and imbalance.

The temporal phase has reached the middle of the Wei hour (wei zheng); the essential task is to rectify the root and purify the source.

The Kuizhong edition matches the underlying base text in the same way. The Tao edition reads yi (already) as ruo (as if), and the following line as bian you pianpo (then there is skew and bias)—meaning that such bias arises because the common people forget what is good. When great peace lasts too long, people come to crave comfort alone; settled in ease and pleasure they forget goodness, and once the heart of goodness is lost, the seeds of wrongdoing are already hidden in place—this is the natural course of things. One should take in the sense of zheng ben qing yuan (rectifying the root and clarifying the source) to know where to begin. A shallow reading holds that the essential knack of cultivation lies in welcoming the One (yi, the primordial beginning of the Dao) to transform and guide—not in merely receiving Kun yuan (the foundational virtue symbolized by Kun, the Earth trigram) alone.

In the Pi hexagram (Hexagram 12), Kun is within and Qian without. The Tuan commentary says: “The qi of Heaven and Earth do not intersect, and the myriad things cannot flow; within are petty persons, without are the junzi (exemplary persons).” Hence the image of strength on the outside and emptiness within (wai qiang zhong gan). The hexagram statement also says “the great goes out and the small comes in” (da wang xiao lai—Yang withdraws and Yin advances), so one should nurture and cultivate (zhipei). This is the time when Heaven and Earth are closed and blocked.

Once one enters shen zheng (the primary phase associated with the Earth Branch shen), the work to be done is nothing other than nurturing and cultivation.

The Kuizhong edition is the same here. The Tao edition, under shen zheng, has “wai qiang zhong gan, one must engage in zhipei (nurturing cultivation),” in line with this book. When shen zheng is reached, the cycle stands at the opening of the Lower Origin (xia yuan) within the Three Periods (sanyuan); people are habituated to ease, do not know how to rouse themselves, lack far-sighted care, customs turn flashy, and conduct values surface ornament alone—hence “strong without.” Livelihood may look abundant, yet living qi (qi) has already thinned and goods gradually run dry—hence “hollow within.” When tribulation strikes, they gamble on rash boldness and perish all the faster—a thing truly pitiable. For those who aspire on this path, the secret lies solely in single-minded nurturing and cultivation, so that calamity is foreseen and guarded against in advance.

In the Guan hexagram (Hexagram 20), Kun is within and Xun without. The Xiang commentary says: “Wind moving over the earth—that is Guan. The ancient kings thereby inspected the four quarters, observed the people’s situation, and set up teaching.” Guan stresses transforming the common people, so one should seek renewal. When the fifth line’s position has not yet shifted, that is “great Guan above” (da guan zai shang—the grand vision holding the upper place). Because it nears the Qian line, one must accord with Qian. The Tao edition names this the “Chengxian tribulation” (cheng xian jie), because among the hexagrams tied to the you hour are Jian and Ming Yi, right when the cycle’s numbers meet hardship.

When the period falls at you zheng (the middle phase of the lower cycle), the method lies solely in establishing teaching and transforming the people. The hexagram’s theme is that those above guide the common folk, so one should bring people to renewal. The five lines have not yet changed—this is “great vision resting above” (da guan zai shang). Because one is close to the Qian line, one must welcome and draw in Qian qi. The Tao Hongjing edition reads “forming the virtuous kalpa” because at the you hour the governing hexagrams include Jian and Ming Yi—a time of hard fortune.

When you zheng applies, the method is only to bring renewal.

The Book in the Basket (Guizhong Shu) agrees. In Tao’s text, under “you zheng,” it has “the method is only to welcome Qian, to complete the virtuous kalpa”—the two books complement each other. You zheng is the middle run of the lower cycle. Stained old customs should be cleared by welcoming Qian qi so the people renew themselves. Stubborn, slanderous types still want to hold on; if the people can renew, then when the kalpa’s tribulation comes, great harm can be reduced—this is the virtuous kalpa. Compared with clashing armies and fire, the difference is vast. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) surely had deep intent. The so-called virtuous kalpa means famine, plague, and disaster from flood and drowning.

Bo: inner Kun, outer Gen—this is the xu hexagram. Qian Zao Du says: yin qi does harm; affairs fit the ninth month; yang wanes yet yin can never fully extinguish yang, and petty men cannot finally remove the noble person. It is called Bo only in the sense of unease. The Tuan says “not favorable to have somewhere to go” because petty men are flourishing.

Kun: all six lines are yin—this is the hai hexagram. Its virtue is yielding and favorable for holding correctness; its qi is hidden and stored in gui, the utmost obscurity—yang is wholly exhausted. Hence the omen “treading frost, solid ice arrives.” Xu and hai correspond to Bo and Kun. Here “the method is only Tun and Meng, waiting for Fu” sets aside the hexagram of the moment and speaks of use according to the time: at this point one should only rest and nourish. Xu and hai in the human body are the lower pole; in the world’s cycle they are the lower phase of the lower cycle—within and without, one should cease and nurture.

When the cycle reaches xu and hai, the rule uses only Tun and Meng to await Fu.

The wording in Kuizhong Shu is the same as here. In Tao’s edition the next line reads “nothing more than zhun and meng”—the sense is no different from this book. Zhun and meng are images of all things in dim, unformed obscurity; one need only nurture them and wait quietly for recovery. In the Zhun hexagram, Zhen is within and Kan without: as soon as there is movement, obstacles and danger appear, and tribulations in the cycle of fate are many—thus Zhun favors holding to correctness without rash action. In the Meng hexagram, Kan is within and Gen without: Kan governs wisdom and Gen governs stillness; at this time the spiritual nature is blocked and the openings of the mechanism are not yet open—thus Meng stresses cultivating upright nature. When the great cycle runs to Xu and Hai, all things come to rest; when the small cycle runs to Xu and Hai, likewise what matters is repose and nourishing original qi. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) said: “Investigate the root of this situation, and it always comes down to having lost contemplative observation and lost nurturing protection.” This means that in the small cycle there is still room to turn things around beforehand. Min Yide notes: The Book of Changes says that “in all ways of increase, one must move with the times”; the Book of Documents says that “the Way has its ascent and descent, and governance follows the customs of the age”—this is how Confucian teaching reads changes in cycles such as pi and tai to heal the world. The Avatamsaka Sutra says “with pure, luminous clarity one shines throughout the world, abiding in all kalpas through unobstructed great vows, constantly striving to benefit all living beings”; the Surangama Sutra says “through kalpas as numerous as the sands of the Ganges, saving the world and bringing all to peace”—this is how Buddhism passes through measureless cycles of fate to heal the world.

This is the third step in taking up practice.

In the Scriptures from the Basket, the seventeen characters that originally stood above this sentence mean that Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) said: when one traces why this outcome occurred, it is always because observation and nurturing were lacking. Neither the preceding nor the following text has “Patriarch Lü said”; it is likely that later readers brought this book to ask the Patriarch, and the copyist mistakenly inserted the reply into the main text—it has now been moved into the preceding commentary.

My private reading is that from the second step upward in this book, from the crown down to the chest, the text speaks only of the body, not of affairs in the world. The third step is arranged by the six double-hours: when practice reaches the Wu position (noon, corresponding to the heart), that is the heart—as sovereign of the whole person and sovereign of a whole age; from the Wei hour downward it is the belly, that is Jambudvipa (the human realm in Buddhist geography). Because worldly circumstances differ, the remedies differ too, so each hour is analyzed to show how to follow the times in applying the method.

Application across these six hours is all a matter of learning: one should have the Dao-method fully prepared before the hour is actually reached. Wu, Wei, Shen, You, Xu, and Hai are all places where “welcoming the One” and “welcoming Qian” infuse. Qian is the sovereign. Only with learning that can heal the age in good time can one bear the heavy responsibility of an era; only by harmonizing primordial Qi and assisting transformation can one move upward to touch the sovereign’s heart. To do what benefits the people, one must first take moving the sovereign as the root.

Fourth step in the teaching

Fu (Return)

The inner trigram is Zhen (Thunder); the outer is Kun (Earth). Zhen is cultivating the self through inward reflection until blessing arises; Kun is virtue aligned with boundlessness. The Tuan commentary says: the Fu hexagram is penetrating; yang returns and stirs, yet moves with the flow—beneficial to go forward, because yang is growing. Yang comes back to the first place, answering to Heaven’s movement; yin submits—this is the meeting of a clear ruler and good ministers.

After that, “the flower opens and the Buddha appears” (a metaphor for completion at this step)—one completes the auspicious assembly oneself, extending through ten thousand myriad years. This is the fourth step in taking up practice.

In textual collation, one manuscript tradition (kuizhong shu) agrees with the base text used for the commentary. The Tao edition reads jinai where the base has yier, adds the two lines “bie you miaoyong, buwai zhongzhen,” and under zizao qinghui inserts the two characters dezhi.

“Hua” refers to the xin hua fo (heart-flower Buddha)—the scripture uses it as a metaphor for the ruler. “Kai” means opening the heart and meeting in good faith: the mind holds no arbitrary judgment, clinging, stubbornness, or private self-interest, but only guides as the moment requires—correcting skew, offering benefit and awakening—as swiftly as a flake of snow on a red-hot brazier that melts the instant it touches. “Buwai zhongzhen” (nothing outside loyalty and integrity) means that loyalty and integrity let those above and below share one virtue and one intent, without needing words or writing; hence it is called zizao (self-arising): the sincerity of purpose runs through of itself. Zhong is sameness inside and out; zhen is unslackening day and night—so solemn, harmonious qi fills the scene. Ruler and minister both stand in this one qi: above, it is De; below, nurturing the people. All under Heaven are in this one qi as well: the people of the four seas quietly receive its blessing without knowing it. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) said: “Only one who knows how to welcome and receive the ‘One’ and the ‘Yuan’ can do this.” Min Yide held that the Book of Documents’ talk of harmonizing yin and yang and reverently assisting Heaven and Earth, the Surangama Sutra’s talk of penetrating great bodhi and awareness that connects with the Tathagata and exhausts the Buddha-realm, and the Shishi Tuoluoni Jing’s talk of benefiting and comforting all sentient beings—all share the same practical reach as this.

The fifth step treats the Lin hexagram. The inner trigram is Dui, the outer Kun: Dui is joy, Kun is yielding, so there is no gap between them. The hexagram’s virtue is yuan, heng, li, zhen (originating, penetrating, beneficial, correct). The Tuan commentary says “joyful and yielding, with firm strength centered and responding”: joy and yield are the undivided root source; firm center with response is the subtle, condensed virtue—also great penetration that can hold correctness.

By this point in practice, effort has reached a state of unbroken continuity: every movement and stillness need no advance planning and naturally accord with the Way. Because the two qis have already merged into one, mind-intention and spirit are no longer split in two—this is the efficacy of “wondrous coalescence” (miaoning). This is the fifth step in initial cultivation.

The Guizhong shu agrees with the Tao edition; the Wenzheng zang text differs slightly. Patriarch Lu (Lü Dongbin) said: When cultivation reaches this step, one should all the more forget the distinction between self and other, let the blended vital breath of Qian and Kun (heaven and earth) spread everywhere, and display a spirit that fills heaven and covers earth—only then can one obtain this verification. If occasionally signs of resistance or disharmony appear, one must welcome the human primordial (ren yuan) to penetrate through, doubly welcome the Qian primordial (qian yuan) to renew, use the Kun primordial (kun yuan) to harmonize, and again use the silent root-entity’s true one (xianyi—the primordial one qi before form) to unify all into one. Then naturally ruler is sage and ministers are loyal, above and below merge into one qi, practice never slackens, and the arrival of harmony and flourishing can be expected soon.

Yide (Min Yide) notes: The Shangshu says “all share one virtue”; the Diamond Sutra says “because merit returns to nothingness, the Tathagata therefore says merit is great”—both speak of this same Dao.

The teaching on the sixth step:

Hexagram Tai: inner Qian, outer Kun. The Tuan commentary says: “When heaven and earth interpenetrate, the myriad things flow through; when above and below interpenetrate, their mind-intentions align.” The Xiang commentary says: “The ruler thereby completes the Dao of heaven and earth, assists what heaven and earth deem fitting, and uses this to support the people.” This is the image of yin assisting yang, Kun receiving and carrying out Qian’s command—every achievement flourishes and the four seas rise toward peace.

When practice reaches here, the court is secure, harmonious, and at ease; the hundred officials each keep their posts and assist in governance; the ruler fully knows the people’s hidden hardships and distress. Then one again welcomes the true one to shine downward over the myriad regions; next one welcomes the Kun primordial to soothe and settle, and the Qian primordial to gather and unify. Products multiply accordingly, and popular custom grows thick, honest, and good. This is the sixth step in initial cultivation. (The character read as “xun” should be “liang” [good/honest].)

The Zhong Shu in the Basket (Guizhong Shu) matches the Tao transmitted edition word for word; the Wenzheng collected edition has more elaborate wording, which is not fully reproduced here. Min Yide notes: The Book of Rites says that virtue (de) is the root of human nature—it reaches up to heaven, spreads through the earth, runs through yin and yang, and can communicate with ghosts and spirits. When virtue’s power reaches this level, heaven and earth are in harmony, the four seasons are in order, the people have virtue, and the five grains are abundant. The Book of Poetry says: “The sincere gentleman truly achieves great things.” This is the unity of outward achievement and inner cultivation. The Diamond Sutra says: What the Buddha teaches is not the physical body; only then is it called the great body—meaning that the great thousand worlds can be held in a single grain of millet. The Amitabha Sutra says: In Amitabha’s land, beings know no kinds of suffering and enjoy every kind of bliss, hence it is called the Pure Land of Bliss. All of these mean: the Way is cultivated in one’s own person, yet its efficacy extends to all beings—this is the inexhaustible pattern of continual bestowal of blessing. The Confucian and Buddhist ways of “healing the world” through the Way are also contained in this book.

Patriarch Lü said: This is a supreme achievement for soothing and governing the fortune of the age—work that in origin only sages could accomplish, yet one need not seek it anywhere outside oneself. The four directions above and below and the nine provinces all lie within the Kun belly (the belly corresponds to Kun, Earth; it is where this method links inner and outer). Through a single inhalation and exhalation one can penetrate and unite them. Everyone can learn it; what matters is steadfast resolve, and one must strictly guard against acting on petty personal cleverness alone.

He also said: Heaven and Earth are without partiality; they entrust their heart in humanity, so human beings can carry this out—and if one truly practices, one will surely attain results.

He also said: The fortune of the age has upper, middle, and lower phases, just as people have youth, prime, and old age. Who among people does not wish to remain forever young and in their prime? How could Heaven and Earth not wish to remain forever in upper or middle fortune? Perfected persons (those whose Dao practice is complete) discern this principle, and therefore left these words, awaiting those with aspiration. Within them are principles of the utmost depth and subtlety—never fully explained by anyone from antiquity to the present.

I heard this teaching in my early years and privately long looked forward to it; only when the Dao was achieved and complete did I realize I had not truly practiced it before. Now I can only relay this teaching (the word “relay” shows it is not the original scripture but the patriarch’s relay to instruct people), for those later who are willing to continue and practice. For now, do not pursue it with exhaustive questioning to the root (the original note: the scripture’s principle is vast; even immortals and perfected ones cannot hear it all; ordinary people should not exhaust secret records; to hear the patriarch’s compassionate relay is already the good fortune of three lifetimes). I will first explain in detail for you the root by which one can reach this stage (the original note: the first half of the whole scripture still contains cultivation practice; what follows speaks of the source that enables achievement).

He then said: The Cantong qi (Canon of the Unity of the Three) and Wuzhen pian (Realizing Perfection) suffice to complete life cultivation (minggong—the refinement of life and vital essence); the Changdao zhenyan (True Words for Expounding the Dao) suffice to complete nature cultivation (xinggong—seeing one’s true nature); the Dadong yujing (Jade Scripture of the Great Cavern) suffice to transform away ordinary substance; and the Sanni yishi (Three Sages Healing the World—the teaching of Confucius, Laozi, and Śākyamuni to regulate the fortune of the age) suffice to verify and attain the fruit of realization.

Yet within these two works—the Cantong qi (Token for the Agreement of the Three) and the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality)—there is much that is hidden, and it is easy to go astray. The Dadong yujing (Great Cave Jade Scripture) is concise in wording yet complete in meaning; one may use it to transform one’s temperament, and its efficacy is extraordinarily subtle. Add to this the Changdao zhenyan (True Words for Singing the Dao), and rely on it to refine the heart—then the three treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen will grow thick and pure. Next, unite this with the learning of contemplative insight to perfect the work of life (minggong, the cultivation and nurturing of life), and use healing the world (yishi, saving and healing the way of the world) to verify the fruit of practice. When it comes to confirming attainment through cultivation, is there anything more vast than the teaching of the Three Nis (Confucian, Daoist, and Buddhist sages) on healing the world?

Alas—a single ordinary woman, wronged in her grievance, could bring three years without rain; if ill fortune responds in this way, good fortune responds likewise. I have questioned the Three Nis in person, and they all affirmed that it is indeed so. The Three Nis also said: “If the work on inner nature (xinggong, the cultivation of heart-and-mind) is not complete, the efficacy of practice will not be pure; if the work on life (minggong) is not complete, what is achieved will not be stable; if temperament has not reached the sage’s realm, application will not be miraculous. One who has fully perfected the three treasures and returned to the pre-heaven state must still act by means of the multitude.” This is doctrine of the utmost depth; I had never heard it before, but you may understand it now. Otherwise, would Heaven and Earth, the two great ones, manage affairs on their own and be so negligent? Would the myriad sages hold office together and be so slack? Would this not be a great doubt since life began? Hereafter you should use the years, months, days, and hours of this life to practice at every moment without slackening, and exhaust this body in repayment to verify the fruit—is that not wholly as it should be?

Yet to heal illness one must first know its source; if the source is unclear, how can one begin? Heaven and Earth, the two great ones, are originally without heart or desire, yet they favor nurturing life; when nurturing exceeds measure, scarcity follows. In the art of healing there is the method of treating the child’s illness by tonifying the mother, and the mother’s illness by tonifying the child. Preserving the Huangji (Supreme Pivot) so that the people renew themselves is one approach; cherishing the people and warding off calamity is another. Only this kind of healing the world has a cyclical method of supplementation in use—employed yet never exhausted, costing not a single coin, demanding not the slightest effort, accomplished while sitting at ease; when the work is complete one ascends.

Thus the teaching runs deeper than ordinary moral exhortation: it ties personal refinement of Jing, Qi, and Shen to a cosmic economy in which excess nurturing depletes the whole, and wise intervention restores circulation without force or expense. The Dadong yujing and Changdao zhenyan are presented as safer, clearer instruments for temperament and heart than the more cryptic alchemical classics, while minggong and xinggong must both reach fullness before effects are pure, stable, and truly miraculous. The Three Nis’ insistence that even one who has returned to the pre-heaven state must still work through the multitude guards against solitary perfectionism and explains why Heaven, Earth, and the sages are not indifferent managers of the world’s ills—the pattern of healing the world is built into the way things respond, as grievance and rain already show. The reader is therefore urged to practice without delay in this very life, knowing the source of the world’s “sickness” before attempting to heal it, and to see in the Huangji-and-people, or people-and-calamity, strategies the same compensatory logic familiar from medicine, now scaled to the renewal of the way of the world itself.

Rather than cultivating the three thousand meritorious deeds and eight hundred practices that depend on human effort to succeed, it is better to uphold practice through a single thought: one can apply it freely, and the oral formulas are not cumbersome. People instead let the years pass in vain—is that not foolish? The opportune moment is right before you; do not wait any longer. This was what was revealed on that occasion in the third year of the Daoguang reign.

It was also said: Once the great qi of Heaven and Earth is restored, products abound and the people born are good. When people are good, the myriad things flourish; when the myriad things flourish, people become still better. Good people and abundant products—is that not an age of peace? Does this not embody the principle of mutual regulation between the two? What are you still waiting to see?

In former times at Mount Gushe there was a divine person surnamed Xu, named Jing, styled Ziyou, who first devised the method of regulating Heaven and Earth in the era of Yao and Shun; then the floods were settled and the Miao submitted. Is this not clear proof? (The Ge-Lu Question and Answer also records this matter.) Especially notable is the Buddha’s Teaching on the World-Sustaining Dharani: in the kingdom of Jiaomi it was personally transmitted to the elder Miaoyue; to this day the western regions still benefit from its grace, and Buddhist scriptures record it. (Peng Chimu’s Miscellaneous Notes on the Buddhist Canon also cites it.) Such merit—how could it be measured?

In our lineage, those who attained immortality through this path were only the Seven Masters of the Northern school (the seven patriarchs of Quanzhen Daoism’s Northern branch). Yet everyone may learn it. Formerly, because the gracious decree of the Divine Mother of Jade Clarity (a revered divine mother in Daoism) had not yet been received, it was kept secret and not divulged; now all have received the gracious decree, the edict has been promulgated through the Three Heavens (the upper realms), and orders have gone out universally to the Three Realms (Heaven, Earth, and humanity), permitting mutual transmission without distinction of male or female. The Three Heavens and Three Realms patrol and protect day and night; sincere believers who receive and practice need only respond in heart and there is an answer—evil demons cannot invade. This is truly an opportunity unseen since the opening of Heaven and Earth; creation is worth rejoicing in, and ten thousand generations are worth rejoicing in.

What is precious is that someone can lead the multitude through personal practice. The remaining oral formulas take union with the true One (return to the pure unity of the source) as the root, while practical effect always begins with the section on taixi (breathing so fine that, like a fetus, one does not rely on mouth and nose). I knew this path would not stay hidden forever, so what was formerly revealed and taught was preserved at Longqiao Mountain Retreat on this mountain. Now what had not yet been disclosed is fully proclaimed. You should all reverently and carefully follow it; do not harbor even a slight wish for quick results. Without forcing verification, verification appears of itself. The principle is so; the Dao is so.

Lu Patriarch’s instructions are as stated above. Anyone who aspires to this path and reads this book will grasp what the text leaves partly unsaid and will apply themselves in earnest practice. The Three Ni (Confucius Kong Ni, Śākyamuni, and Laozi, standing for the sages of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism; here, Lu Patriarch’s “healing the world” method that extends self-cultivation to saving the world) will also watch and assess in secret.

What precedes is my own, Min Yide, gathering of Lu Patriarch’s surviving instructions to clarify the original intent of this book. Most of the rest comes from Vice Minister Jiang Yuanting’s (a Qing official) compiled and engraved Inner Collection of Lu Patriarch’s Celestial Immortal Orthodox Lineage. In his postface the Vice Minister wrote that he had heard that Mount Wuhua in Yunnan held the Patriarch’s Scripture on Healing the World, which seemed to match the subtle principles set out in the Inner Collection. He searched in many ways without success; had he found it, he would have placed it at the head of the Inner Collection, because the scripture must contain crucial refinements and its absence from the Daoist Canon was a notable gap.

I privately suspect that what he heard may have been a version associated with Mount Jizu, passed on by rumor, which is why people spoke of such a scripture. When I compare this with Daoist Master Tao’s original preface, what we have are oral formulas (koujue), not a canonical scripture; calling it Lu Patriarch’s Healing the World is also mistaken. I record this for future verification. Min Yide respectfully notes.

“A Reader’s Glimpse at the Lu Patriarch’s Account of the Three Ni’s Doctrine for Healing the World” (brief views on reading Lu Patriarch’s Statement on the Three Ni’s Healing the World)

By Jin’gai Mountain Recluse Min Yide

According to Yishi Shuo (On Healing the World), Patriarch Lü once received instruction from the Three Ni. Master Tao of the Stone Hermitage said that the Three Ni are the spirits in heaven of three sages; what they expounded was the great Dao of participating in heaven and earth and assisting transformation and nurturing. After hearing it, the Patriarch taught it again to guide later generations. Its gist is nothing other than regulating the human world from within oneself—this is the great Dao, not an ordinary method. In my humble view, it takes its stand from the source of the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity).

The scripture of healing the world is a precious treasury of the Jade Clarity (Yuqing) realm, as profound as the Great Cavern Jade Scripture; ordinary people can hardly grasp it, and it must not be transmitted rashly to those who are not fit. Therefore the Patriarch did not publish the original text; he only expounded its meaning to those who sincerely sought the Dao. He also feared that students would not know how to enter or when to approach the altar, so he explained in detail: one should first use the Can Tong Qi (Joining of the Three) and Awakening to Reality to complete destiny work (ming), use the Great Cavern Jade Scripture to shed ordinary substance, use the True Words for Expounding the Dao to refine the heart, and then use the Three Ni’s Healing of the World to verify fruition. In this way the meaning of the healing-world scripture can be silently understood, and practice has its own sequence of steps.

Worldly aspirants who grasp its outline, serve it with sincere heart and practice it with reverence, can connect upward with the heart-learning of the Three Ni and accumulate merit and virtue. It benefits without depleting, is vast without empty show—it is precisely the ladder and vessel toward becoming a Celestial Immortal.

I have quietly reflected: the body is the world; one should devote oneself to nourishing original Qi (yuan qi). When original Qi is nourished, gongfu can advance. The secret is: empty the form of “me,” so that Qi and Shen (spirit) merge into one, guarding quietly like brooding an egg. In time, inside and outside are without barrier; Shen is complete and Qi full, and Jing (essence) is also transformed. When this body’s Shen and Qi flourish, what one does takes root and does not stop halfway. Longer still, one is without a single attachment; body and world are forgotten together, returning to the Great Void; when the work is finished one gathers and returns to one, fully restoring the Primeval Beginning, drawing this body and this world into the Ancestral Aperture (zu qiao), and then stopping at ease.

Then body and world both benefit, and afterward each side’s power increases further. One must be vigilant oneself, checking results and measuring progress. What must be examined at every moment is: the body cannot fail to be upright, the mind cannot fail to be single-minded, conduct cannot fail to be firm and lasting; as for gain and loss, success and failure of this one body and this one lifetime, set them aside and do not ask.

Second

Looking back on my earlier cultivation of this matter, whenever I forgot myself and the mundane world, a state would immediately appear: the upper half clear and luminous, the lower half merged in unity, empty without boundary. Turning inward to observe this body, limbs and viscera were all utterly void; white seemed like Heaven, black seemed like Earth, with turbid qi stirred up and clear qi raised—a transformation that showed itself in movement and stillness. Settling the mind to examine it, realms below appeared layer upon layer, distinct as pieces on a chessboard. Going further in quiet examination, there was also a bustling, chaotic swirl like dust motes in a bright window. I took these signs of qi circulation to Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin). The Patriarch said: What appeared first was the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) in which the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity) are blended as one; what then appeared in inner illumination was the Taiji of the whole person; what later piled up in profusion were the subtle mysterious images (xuanying) of the myriad Taiji of the world and cosmos contained within that unified Taiji—all gathered into one mind. Only by being able to discern without clinging, to see without grasping, and to apply effort day and night without interruption can the True Unity of the Three Powers be drawn down to meet and unite, so that one may work within it. If True Unity has not yet been met, one should simply follow these signs, making the mind more empty and still, placing this scene of true primordiality in a state of neither looking nor listening—then one will not be obstructed by it. In time, one may hope to attain True Unity. It is fortunate that yours did not come from imagination; with mysterious images reflected on the mind, you can still refrain from thoughts and examine more deeply in stillness—you do not betray the support of the Great Void (Taixu). You must strive. What you have now is still within mysterious images; once True Unity is obtained, it will no longer be mysterious images. Yet True Unity—how can it be bound by months and years! Alas, when mysterious images enter the bodily cavity, that is precisely the ladder of advancing practice; exert yourself. This was in the sixteenth year of the Jiaqing reign. Because this is the state that must be passed through at the first steps of practice, it is recorded here as a guide for fellow practitioners on the path.

Third

In this Way, as soon as one begins, black and white appear, rising and sinking are seen—this is the interplay of yin and yang (xiaoxi), a state that must be passed through in practice; therefore it is recorded as a guide for fellow practitioners on the path.

Part Three

Once you enter this Way, black and white appear before you, and ascent and descent become visible—these are the signs of Yin-Yang waxing and waning. In the end, only what you have genuinely realized in your own person counts as real. The moment a deliberate, willful thought arises in the mind, you fall into illusory, deluded seeing; therefore take attaining True Unity (the undivided, nondual authentic reality) as your aim. When True Unity cannot be held steady, it exists only when you personally confirm it in experience. What the preceding text describes is primal true origin (zhen yuan). Primal true origin is sustained by this single thread: inwardly it is used to cultivate the person; outwardly it is used to harmonize the world. Originally it is one Qi, yet it divides into two poles—the light and clear rises, the heavy and turbid sinks; this is the way of nature. The perfected person must trace it back to its source. Reasoning from principle, stillness leads to clarity and movement leads to turbidity; what makes it alternate between movement and stillness is not without a ruling presence. In a human being, this ruler is called the heart-mind. The heart-mind is most luminous and clear; it must be settled by a single thought—this is will (zhi). That is why the noble person values establishing the will; becoming a sage or a worthy depends entirely on the steadfastness of this will. Once this principle is clear, there is a method for governing the heart-mind—and the heart-mind also has a firm footing.

The method of governing the heart-mind is nothing beyond four words: firm, vigorous, centered, and upright. What counts as firm, vigorous, centered, and upright? Ask within your own heart-mind, and the heart-mind itself will make it plain, because inborn nature (xing) is there. Centeredness and uprightness are the substance of nature; firmness and vigor are its function. Nature is the heart-mind of Heaven. When this is understood, there is a path for preservation and nourishment, and the heart-mind has something to rely on.

I, Yide (the compiler’s name for himself, “once obtained”), had the will but had not yet fully achieved it. I once heard my late master’s instruction: the student should practice self-purification according to the Changdao Zhenyan (True Words on Expounding the Dao); then the substance of the heart-mind becomes fully bright, and one can by oneself distinguish the sequence of Qi’s movement. When Qi’s circulation is obstructed, that is the drag of ordinary, worldly constitution; if one reverently upholds the jade scripture (the classic used in Daoist recitation for transforming one’s temperament), one’s endowment of Qi will transform. Read further the Cantong qi (Token for the Agreement of the Three) and the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality), and do not be misled by figurative language; let the seven emotions all return to the rectitude of the one nature, and then one’s endowment is complete. Thus the will is not scattered, and one may apply it to harmonize the world (yishi—using the Dao to regulate the course of the age), reaching a state of spirit-transformation and wonder: near at hand, a single household or village; farther out, a county or commandery; taken to the limit, the four great continents (the whole world as ancient cosmology named it) are all regulated within this square inch of the heart-mind. When calamitous, perverse Qi is dispelled, there are no floods and fires, wars, locust plagues, or epidemics; when orientation is set aright, customs are nowhere left un-transformed and human hearts nowhere left un-renewed—people secure, things abundant, all in mutual joy, as if ascending a spring terrace. Small application brings small effects; great application brings great effects. Such is the Dao; whether it is used or not depends on the person. Humans receive the Qi of Heaven and Earth, and therefore can connect with the Qi of Heaven and Earth and turn that Qi; human Qi is the pivot of the two Qis of Heaven and Earth. When the work of nature-and-life (xingming) is not yet complete, Qi is not efficacious; when the work of nature-and-life is complete and the four greats (the body of earth, water, fire, and wind) are already empty, there is nothing left to rely on for purposeful action. Therefore even celestial immortals entrust this authority to human beings. That is why humans count as one of the three powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity).

Fourth

It should be understood that heaven and earth are not partial and are not two rigid, inert masses; what they signify is simply the way things happen of themselves. When people act with goodness, every kind of auspicious sign follows; when they act wrongly, every kind of calamity follows. The scales naturally rest on human beings, which is why humanity is one of the three talents—Heaven, Earth, and Humanity.

The lever for bringing calamity or good fortune is in one’s own hands; heaven only moves with the person. Thus people have the power to turn and reshape the creative process. The reason is plain: align with the Dao and you meet good fortune; turn against the Dao and you meet misfortune. Heaven has no intent of its own; good and ill fortune are all summoned by oneself. Indulge desire and you go against the Way and invite harm; dissolve violent, harsh qi and you follow the Way and meet good fortune. Change lies mostly with the person. When someone can turn and shift this qi, that qi turns and every human heart turns with it; when human hearts turn, the heart of heaven turns as well.

What is meant by “entrusting” (ji) is not leaving oneself to lodge something outside. The three talents are one and the same qi, originally a single whole; only as form are they divided into three. Qi condenses into form and each returns to its place—this is Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate). What is light and clear naturally belongs to heaven; what is heavy and turbid naturally belongs to earth, each following its kind. What stirs ever more and gives rise to clear and turbid is true origin (zhenyuan, the innate primordial qi); what is mystery upon mystery and skillfully works clear and turbid is true one (zhenyi, the undivided sovereign). The noble person who grasps this accommodates it and harmonizes with its transformations, so that each returns to the prenatal (xiantian, the state before birth)—only then has one grasped the essential secret.

True one is not different when it dwells with the multitude, nor lonely when it exists alone; when shared it can be parted, and when each obtains it, it can merge again into one. True origin and true one: called one, yet not wholly one; called two, yet not wholly two. Apart from qi it is called true one; together with qi it is called true origin. The qi of the heart of heaven is true origin; what governs true origin is true one—and true one is the heart of heaven. The heart of heaven is originally formless; only when imparted to humans does it take form, and that formed aspect is true one. True origin has qi: use the heart to accommodate true one, and use true one in turn to govern true origin.

Heaven uses true one and true origin to cast things with form; we use true one and true origin to nurture and protect our formed bodies, so that each rests in peace and stability. This is called healing the world (yishi, regulating the age through cultivating heart and nature)—that is, the study of nature and life (xingming zhi xue, cultivating mind-nature and the living person). The method is to act yet not cling to action, and to reach the goal by exhausting heart and fully realizing nature. Whether results appear is not something one needs others to know; how near or far, lasting or brief those results are determines the height or depth of realization (zhenguo, the fruit of practice). The noble person keeps this inward, uniting inner cultivation with outward application to complete the Way, without reckoning efficacy, still less worldly achievement. This belongs to what is proper to one’s nature; once self-serving designs are mixed in, the Dao cannot be discussed with such a person. The scholar stands first among the four classes (scholar, farmer, artisan, merchant) because he bears the duty of guiding the people. Having learned this Way, how could he not strive to practice it?

Part Five

This method of the Dao requires that, within settled stillness, one silently observe whether the flow of Qi is open or blocked; when Qi has become full and harmonious, one then single-mindedly guards the clarity within the body. It contains the principle of dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu), and also serves to heal the state of the world. Yi De (Min Yide) once studied this method and had some private understanding of it.

First fix the spirit-mind on the crown of the head, then bring it down to the chest: like honoring the sovereign and opening the minister’s heart—precisely the image of a wise ruler and able ministers. Then from the chest bring it down to the abdomen: carrying out Heaven’s intent to settle the people below—this is the work of bringing order and relief. For the single body, it is the method of opening and regulating the Governor and Conception channels (Du and Ren).

Next, Qi passes from the lower gate (the perineal region) through the tailbone gate (Weilü), ascends along the spine, passes through the Jade Pillow, reaches Kunlun at the crown, and settles in the Mudball Palace (Niwan, in the brain). At this moment it is like a clap of heavenly thunder: sweet dew pours down and the five viscera grow cool. Once Governor and Conception have joined, celestial Qi descends and earthly Qi rises; warmth nourishes, transformation and growth proceed, all is contained and bright, and the myriad things flourish. Above and below achieve harmony (tai), court and countryside are not divided, and the people draw close to those above—this is filling the belly and storing wealth among the people. Earth does not grudge its treasures; refined essence rises to the heavenly court, rich moisture overflows, then descends again to the Jade Pool (Huachi, the place of saliva in the mouth), where it is guarded and held in the Crimson Palace (Jianggong, the heart). Below, circulation connects with above, and thus one can reach ease and joy. Then Kun (Earth) and Qian (Heaven) meet; continuous illumination pours down, customs change and popular ways are renewed—how flourishing!

Tracing why this can be reached, it is nothing more than that within it the True One (Zhenyi) presides. This path may be called the precious raft of ascending to immortality, or the divine skill of healing the age. But unless one has reached utmost emptiness, deep stillness, and sufficient accomplishment, it must not be put into practice.

Patriarch Lu (Lu Dongbin) said: If at the crown one does not know how to guard and hold, or guarding does not reach fully enough; if the chest and abdomen are the same, then the three places in front of the body are not open. If at the lower gate one does not know how to guard and hold, or guarding does not reach the utmost, then the three places behind the body are also not open. When all three in front and three behind are open, that counts as half the work. Both becoming an immortal and bringing order to the realm require focused cultivation, repeated cultivation; the second half of the work lies in closing the Xun wind.

Note: Gong means focused, dedicated cultivation. Xun wind is the breath in the nose. The nose has two openings; only when they are closed is the work complete: Qi does not leak from the nose but rises and falls directly along the Yellow Path (the central channel in the body), as if the nose were idle—this is what is meant by “closing.” It is the effect of utmost emptiness and deep stillness, in accord with Mencius’s meaning of direct nurturing. What is nurtured is this True One. One can nurture what Mencius called the Qi “vast and unyielding, filling the space between Heaven and Earth,” yet without the Song-dynasty mistake of pulling up seedlings to help them grow—then one may be said to have attained it.

Section Six

Looking back to when I first studied this mnemonic, I had not yet truly understood it. I only sat cross-legged in lotus posture, kept the body straight, emptied the mind, evened the breath, and calmly held attention at the lower pole—the lowest point of the body. I felt fullness and ease there; warmth gradually built, like moxibustion, and I still held as before. Then I sensed that warm Qi surging backward and quietly guarded it without pushing or helping. After a long while the lower region grew wide; the Qi moved without blockage, and I knew I had passed through the pass and was about to rise. That pass is Weilü—the gate at the coccyx. I used a slight lift of the lower body and a light raise of the upper torso, letting the Qi pass on its own. The spine no longer felt like a spine: it was open like a great road, level and climbing upward for miles on end. Strange flowers lined the way; walkers, riders, men in helmets, men in bamboo hats, porters riding in carts—shoulder to shoulder, wheels almost touching—noisy as the markets of the five great cities. Canopies and wagons crowded in; peoples with tattooed brows and filed teeth came one after another, as if every land were bringing tribute and hurrying to the sacred capital. Suddenly a white rainbow rose from the northern sea with a solemn sound and shot south toward steep peaks. My Yuanshen (original spirit) went with it. The summit was broad and flat; halls shone with gold and jade, bright as splendid lamps—another world entirely. This is what Daoists call Kunlun and Buddhist inner scriptures call Tusita; in truth it is the human head. One must not linger there. In an instant crimson light flared from the southern sky, rumbling—I knew it was Tiangang (celestial gang Qi). A heavy crash met the white rainbow and they became one long bridge across the sky, crowded with feathered banners and flags going back and forth. Wind brought layered sounds, clear and vast: celestial music—I did not dare listen closely. Immortals in star crowns and feather robes appeared, with divine birds and beasts; jade pendants and rings glittered together, gorgeous as a painting, cloud and light filling the sky.

At that moment my heart pounded wildly and I felt the urge to act rashly; I gathered my spirit and applied steady force to hold myself still. Suddenly everything fell utterly silent—I could see nothing at all, and the darkness was like the depth of night. My mind stirred slightly again, still mixed with disturbances like tiger roars and ape cries. After I had stayed calm for a long while, a tremendous sound suddenly burst forth, swift as thunder. I knew this was the mechanism of stripping and returning (the turning point when extreme stillness is about to give way to renewed movement), so I stilled my mind and waited. A slight abundance of sweet dew seemed to pour in, and the fragrance of sandalwood (chandan) seeped through my whole body.

In that motionless silence, light suddenly opened wide, and I saw a vast plain stretching for a thousand li, ringed by city walls and watchtowers in magnificent array. I knew this was what Buddhist scriptures call the heaven of Shakra (Indra), and what Daoist texts call Yinge—the moated inner citadel that guards the inner landscape and takes the form of ramparts and walls. I rose in reverent awe; indeed I saw a celestial deity descend in full regalia and crown, with chariots and retinue in solemn splendor. I at once prostrated my body and, holding this image in mind, invoked the True One (xian tian zhen yi zhi qi, the primordial True One breath) to guard this heavenly palace.

Before long I suddenly felt my body carried far off upon the clouds, passing beyond the Gate of Heaven (Changhe). Looking back at the heavenly palace, the five colors dazzled the eyes; looking down at the great earth, it was like a single chessboard. Gazing near and far, fields and soil interwove like brocade, mountains and rivers tangled in confusion—I knew this was the world below. Clouds and mist hung down and poured in; auspicious light wound about like colored ribbons, as if brocade covered the vast world. I steadied my spirit and looked closely: the people coming and going were as tiny as grains of millet or ants; as I drew nearer, they became as clear as if displayed in the palm of my hand.

Then in heart and eye I felt that living beings were not separate “other” beings at all, but precisely this one “I” dividing and appearing in myriad forms; their sorrow, joy, delight, and worry had no barrier between them, and were precisely what this one “I” tasted in person. This was the true realm in which the ten thousand images merge into one and thing and self are not two. In that true realm I was kin to all beings as from one womb; spring warmth filled heaven and earth; the primordial qi of the three origins (heaven, earth, and humanity) met in subtle union and condensed—and this body and this world were both steeped in great harmony. Regrettably, at that time I had not yet been able to go further and welcome the True One, to melt and refine it into the teeming multitude of beings and the ten thousand images.

Through inward contemplation in emptiness and stillness, one enters a state of profound unity and depth. After this continues for a long while, the Original Spirit (primordial spirit) emerges from deep meditative absorption. My cross-legged posture remained as upright as at the start, yet my complexion suddenly changed—I seemed young again, and my hair and beard turned from white back to black. This occurred on the winter solstice of the eighteenth year of the Jiaqing reign (1813). My learning is shallow and my practice insufficient; how dare I claim to benefit the world? I can only respectfully submit what I have experienced and ask Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) for guidance. The Patriarch said: “You have already attained it. If you cultivate without slackening, you will surely receive verification.” The states described above need not be followed to the letter, for each person’s spirit and depth of cultivation differ; one must not seek to match them like a fixed template.

According to this book, leaving the mundane world and devoting oneself solely to self-cultivation can in itself lead to immortality. If one can embrace the entire world in one’s person and heal it, then both oneself and the world accumulate merit and attain fruition—a twofold gain in one stroke. The main points have already been outlined above: what should be emptied and purified are ordinary emotions and false awareness; what should be welcomed and nourished are Qianyuan, Kunyuan, and Zhenyi (True Unity)—that single true master within the two primordial poles of Qian and Kun. Without Kun, Qian cannot harmonize; without Qian, Kun cannot clarify. To know only how to summon Qian and Kun yet not how to summon the Zhenyi within those two poles is like using water and fire to boil an empty pot—there is no path to refining the elixir and becoming an immortal, because there is nothing in the pot. What is that “something”? It is Zhenyi. With Zhenyi obtained, there is a true master within; when one acts, nothing dominates to one-sided excess. This is the gist of “healing the world” (yishi—using cultivation to remedy the age). Practice it sincerely; within the oral formulas there are further formulas—all reducible to holding fast to one true self. With my truth I resonate with the truth of the three powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity); cultivating against the ordinary course, I restore the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) to fullness. Where the world has grown thin and depleted, one adjusts toward clarity and harmony, maintaining balance as times shift—without counting years or measuring results, until this embodied life (the body received in this lifetime) ends. One who practiced this and left a record in the classics was Zhang Ya of Wuhui in the Zhou dynasty, styled Shansun. By the way of healing the world he secretly accomplished merit that shaped the age; in King Cheng’s reign he quietly assisted the Duke of Zhou and Duke of Shao so that virtue and governance aligned and blessings had no bound, and he attained the Wenchang fruition rank. The matter is recorded in the precious registers; the original preface to the Wenchang Dadong Xianjing (Great Cavern Immortal Scripture of Wenchang) also cites it—that preface was composed by Wei Yuanjun of Cunchun. I, Yide, received my late master’s instruction and strove at summoning the Yuan, yet had not yet focused on summoning the Yi: first, my mind-nature was not yet fully clear, and I feared Zhenyi would be hard to match; second, I had not heard the inner rationale and rashly waited, thinking to seek further secret instructions before putting it into practice.

The efficacy of ying yuan (welcoming the innate primordial qi so it may respond in kind) has already appeared, yet one has still not turned attention to ying yi (welcoming the True One). Because the heart-nature is not yet fully clear, one fears that the “one” in the True One may be hard to align and respond to; and because one has not heard the inner rationale, one waits in vain, thinking to seek some secret teaching elsewhere before putting it into practice.

Yet the responsiveness of ying yuan has already been verified by wonders again and again. Where Yide (Min Yide) lived for long stretches, spring flowers opened again in autumn—not once or twice, but three or four times, even four or five. At Yunchao on Jingai Mountain, at Dade Hermitage, Lianhua Hermitage, and Baoyuan Hall in Gusu (Suzhou), at Tianzhu Abbey and Banchi Hermitage in Yuhang, at Jining Pavilion in Wulin (Hangzhou), and at Xiaopeng Isle in Shanghai—apricot, peach, magnolia, redbud, mubi (Yulan magnolia), quince, and xifu crabapple, among others, all bloomed in autumn with brilliant color and heavy fragrance, as lush as the third month of spring. Many saw it with their own eyes; poems and inscriptions were gathered into albums. Among these, the “double-nine” peach blossoms received a poem from Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin); gentlemen one after another joined in verse—this was in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth years of the Jiaqing reign. On Jingai Mountain the flowers and trees were especially abundant, spreading over the foothills in clumps; opening became almost routine.

Within those ten years, mulberries in Wu and Shen regions bore fruit again in xiaochun (around the tenth lunar month)—for seven of those years as well. At Hebu on Jingai Mountain, the Jiaxing elder Tong Hongyi, worn down in body and unsteady on his legs, was told by a physiognomist that his allotted span would end in the twelfth month of that year; he was then seventy. He obtained winter fruit from trees on that bank, ate a full handful, and suddenly grew strong again: he cast aside his staff, entered the mountains, and went back and forth for about seven li, his body light as if flying. Returning, he gathered about a dou more: the pure purple he made into pills and wine for regular use; the next grade he put into charitable prescriptions—and treating illness never failed to work at once. Thereafter he came every year on schedule to pick, and the gravely ill he saved cannot be counted. His friend Mo Dacheng had a blood tumor on the crown of his head, big as a fist, the skin soft and thin like a ripe persimmon. Tong gave him about a cup of mulberry wine; shortly after it entered his mouth the itching became unbearable, then it settled— as if it had vanished. So he and Tong made a vow together, raised funds, and laid a mountain approach of more than twelve hundred paces in stone, and built two stone bridges and one roadside pavilion.

This pavilion is named Zhi (“Stopping”). The plaque was inscribed when Lü Dongbin descended to the altar. At first, in the Song, Mei Zichun often stopped here to rest; Zhao Mengfu once titled the pavilion “Crane Stop.” Later he and Weng made a vow together, raised funds, and laid more than twelve hundred steps of mountain approach road, and built two stone bridges and one roadside pavilion. The pavilion has now been rebuilt. Lü Dongbin changed it to the present name so people would understand the principle of “knowing when to stop.” Bao Kun, prefect of Qiantang, composed the stele text, recording in detail the good karma of building bridges and paving the road; Liang Tongshu, Hanlin expositor, wrote it out in his hand.

That spring, willow and red smartweed suddenly sprang up in the courtyards on the mountain. Today the willow gives shade; the smartweed sprouts anew every year. Willow leaves can treat malaria and epidemic illness; smartweed brewed into wine can relieve abdominal distension. To this day people with illness from Jiaxing, Huzhou, and Hangzhou come to gather them, calling this willow the “divine willow” and this smartweed “immortal smartweed.”

They then asked Lü Dongbin. He said: These arise from transformation of Qi; they have existed since antiquity. The matter is recorded in the Jingshan Gazetteer—originally a story of Chan Master Guoyi—nothing strange; yet it is enough as one verification of “welcoming Yuan” (welcoming and receiving innate primordial Qi). “Ninety-nine peach blossoms” is recorded in the Continued Literary Monographs on Monthly Ordinances—the story of Lin Ling Su, attendant master of the Lin clan, at Guangling (the Yangzhou region today). My inscribed poem is also collected there. The poem inscribed now uses the original rhyme of the old Guangling piece. This is not something welcoming Yuan alone can bring about. What is delightful is that autumn peaches bloom every year, and abundantly—very much like the Guangling scene of those days. You must exert yourselves in practice.

Lü Dongbin also said: Do you know why Lin Ling Su attained only the rank of a single-generation patriarch in the Lingqin Secret Record? First, he used the Great Dao to build personal fame; second, once he had answered the imperial summons, he repeatedly displayed techniques to show off; third, he abandoned “True One” (innate pure unity) and wrongly said one must still wait for something. Had he refused the summons and secretly welcomed True One to heal the age (to rescue the world), so that petty men dissolved in secret and all under heaven was at peace—could that merit ever be fully measured?

You cling to your own views and refuse to follow the ancients. I have warned you plainly before, yet your notion that “one must still wait” remains unshakable, so you cannot ascend straight to the heavenly thoroughfare—the great path of immortality. What a pity! This admonition was given on the winter solstice of the twenty-first year of the Jiaqing reign (1816).

Yide’s learning and cultivation were not yet fully mature, yet he received commendation from the patriarch. Effects that appeared in plants and trees were seen by all, and this account was written to encourage fellow practitioners. What the crowd does not know, he simply did what needed to be done and was unwilling to speak of it to outsiders.

The above is the colophon to Lü Patriarch’s Gongjue for the Three Nuns to Heal the World. Patriarch Lü is Lü Dongbin; “three nuns healing the world” means using the teachings of the sages of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism to remedy the world—this piece is the postscript to those gong instructions.

The block-printed editions of Writings from the Casket originally contained no hexagram figures. In the manuscript copy in the Zhu family’s possession that I obtained, a hexagram is drawn before each step; some have suspected that these were added later by practitioners of the Way. I consider that this manuscript has circulated for a long time, and the figures ought not to be removed; therefore, when explaining the hexagrams’ meaning, I have retained them.

Others have asked: illnesses in the world are many in kind, and the means to heal the age are likewise many. Warding off drought and flood, resolving calamities and pestilence, suppressing war and fire, removing epidemics, saving people from flood and flame, and warding off great disasters—all require vast spiritual power and efficacy, and must be met separately through applying talismans and incantations, without end. Now this book seems to want to govern every ill with a single approach—is that not far too coarse? Or does the complete book in fact contain every kind of method, and you simply have not seen it?

I reply: What you speak of is shu (technique); what this book speaks of is the Dao. I am sure this book does not treat technique. Those who penetrate the profound learning disdain illusion such as striking stones or chessboard tricks; those who grasp divine timing likewise disdain such feats as reversing wind with a feather fan or summoning wind and rain with a cup of wine. The great Way of the sages—how could it be mixed with technical arts? That I have not seen the complete book may be believed; that I have not seen the book’s methods I do not believe. Accounts seen with one’s own eyes in this book already differ; hearsay passed from hand to hand differs still more. Who knows whether some curious person did not lift talk of talismans and spells from other books and attach it to this one, so that readers took it for the original text—error breeding error until it flowed into recipe-books, numerology, and the arts of deception? Do not be misled or fooled; such material may as well be burned.

They asked again: If calamities are so various, can holding to one teaching truly answer them all? Or must one only stand by with folded hands and let things take their course?

Some say: “You have not yet understood the Great Dao, yet you delight in talking about methods and techniques. Methods are small; the Dao is vast—this is not something you can grasp. Whatever in the world deludes people, do not be fooled by it—burn it and be done.”

They ask again: “Then with so many disasters and hardships, can holding to one teaching resolve them all? Or can one only stand helpless and let them happen?”

The reply: “You have not yet understood the Great Dao, yet you delight in talking about methods and techniques. Methods are small; the Dao is vast—not something you can fully know. The various illnesses of the world all arise when the qi of one of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) runs excessive. Within the human body there is originally the upright qi of the Five Phases, corresponding to east, south, west, north, and center. Examine the root of the illness and treat toward the afflicted direction: merge the qi of the human realm into this single body—inwardly see no self, outwardly see no human realm. What is excessive, reduce; what is insufficient, supplement; what is knotted, disperse; what is stubborn and will not dissolve, resolve; what is rebellious and chaotic, make smooth. Symptoms cannot all be counted, and the ways of healing cannot all be told; the waxing and waning, fullness and emptiness of qi must all be adjusted according to the specific signs. If a person is ill, use my own yin and yang to transform and harmonize; if the world is ill, also use my own yin and yang to regulate. There is no need for haste or panic, yet the effect comes swiftly—truly marvelous! Yet this is not something ordinary human ability can achieve; it relies on the primordial virtue of Heaven (Qian yuan), the nurturing virtue of Earth (Kun yuan), and the True One (Zhenyi—the innate unity of original authenticity). One who can welcome and hold fast to this finds response arriving at once like an echo. Moreover, once the Great Dao is put into practice, why wait until calamity has appeared before mending deviation and restoring what is broken? Those who understand this principle will not be deluded by talismans (fulu) or numerological arts.”

In the first month of summer in the Wuzi year of the Daoguang reign, Min Yide of Jinhua Mountain, Huzhou, Zhejiang—eleventh-generation heir in the orthodox Longmen (Dragon Gate) lineage—respectfully wrote this postface at Ganlu Garden in Jinling (present-day Nanjing).

The Medical-World Gong Formula of Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin), transmitted by Great Master of Great Emptiness Shen Yibing, retold and annotated by disciple Min Yide. The “Three Ni” refer to Zhongni (Confucius), Muni (Shakyamuni), and Qingni (in this tradition, often Laozi). “World” means the world itself. Medical-World Gong Formula denotes the essential method of regulating the world through the transformation and harmonization of one’s own yin and yang.

The so-called “Three Nis” refer to Zhongni (Confucius), Muni (Shakyamuni), and Qingni (Laozi). “World” (shi) means the world; here it also stands for the body—the idea is to heal the world through one’s own practice. The Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) once had a carved edition of the Three Nis Heal the World Exposition; I obtained it and wrote a commentary, but the practical formulas were incomplete. Later I received a Gong Formula booklet from the Venerable Taixu. He said the work consists solely in using the spirit (Shen) to uphold the Jade Scripture (yujing)—holding the Daoist scripture with mind and spirit—and that the oral instructions begin with the Xuan Yun incantation. A friend once borrowed the booklet; more than forty years passed before I took up the matter again. I then restated it, wrote annotations in my own hand, and added blessing texts to clarify how this practice is applied. Only then were the formulas and the method complete. I do not keep them to myself and hereby publish them for fellow students.

Xuan Yun incantation: The yunzhuan (cloud-seal script, characters of heaven formed from cloud-qi) appears in Taixu (the primordial void); at the beginning of the great kalpa (an immensely long world-age), now far, now near, now sinking, now floating, it drifts through the five directions yet never extends more than a little over one zhang.

Commentary on the gong formula: The master ordered that compilation begin with Xuan Yun so that students’ spirit and mind may roam in the time before anything had come into being. Before I was embodied, I was of one substance with Taixu—like the yunzhuan seen at the start of the kalpa, drifting near and far, sinking and floating in the five directions, yet never outside the one-zhang span of the “heart of heaven” (tianxin). When embodiment took form, at first I had not yet lost the primordial true essence (zhenyuan). Later, outer things crisscrossed, the discriminating mind (shishen, the postnatal mind of distinction) took charge, and I did not know how to return to the root; over time, habitual defilements became illness, and even seeking a doctor was too late—how much less could one practice these formulas? Thus at the very beginning of embodiment, one has not yet fallen away.