《古文参同契集解》

We, your servants, respectfully report: Guwen Cantongqi Jijie (Collected Explanations of the Ancient Text Cantong qi) in three fascicles was compiled in the Ming dynasty by Jiang Yibiao, who styled himself Master Fuyangzi and was a native of Yuyao. Wei Boyang wrote the Cantong qi—a foundational Neidan (internal alchemy) classic that correlates the Book of Changes, Huang–Lao Daoist teaching, and furnace alchemy—and the original work consisted of only three treatises. After Peng Xiao divided the text into chapters and wrote a commentary, later commentators reshuffled and recombined passages in various ways, yet all preserved the old arrangement of upper, middle, and lower treatises. In the Ming, Yang Shen issued a separate version, claiming that when a stone casket was unearthed in the south it contained the ancient-text Cantong qi in three treatises plus one preface; Xu Jingxiu’s annotated three treatises plus one epilogue; and Chunyu Shutong’s Sanxiang lei (“Three Correspondences Category”) in two parts plus one epilogue—eleven pieces in all. Yang said he had seen a version unknown to Zhu Xi. Jiang Yibiao’s commentary follows Yang Shen’s text, hence the title “ancient text”; he also dismantled the commentaries of Peng Xiao, Chen Xianwei, Chen Zhixu, and Yu Yan entirely and appended each to the corresponding passage below, hence “collected explanations.”

Upon examination, this book inverts much of the old text: a praise piece originally in the main text is labeled as Xu Jingxiu’s epilogue; a chapter missing from the original Sanxiang lei is extracted and treated as Chunyu Shutong’s epilogue. As for the Cantong qi, aside from Yu Fan’s commentary on the Changes citing the phrase “sun and moon make yi” (see Li Dingzuo’s Zhouyi jijie), few other works quote it; transmission and lineage are not clearly recorded in various books. What we can rely on is Peng Xiao’s preface, which is relatively ancient. Peng’s preface only says that Master Wei showed the book to Xu Congshi of Qingzhou, who hid his name and wrote a commentary. Zheng Qiao’s Tongzhi · Yiwen lüe lists Xu Congshi’s commentary Yinyang tonglüe Cantong qi in three fascicles, without identifying him as Xu Jingxiu. Why should this name suddenly appear nearly two millennia later, at Yang Shen’s time? As for that praise-preface, Zhu Xi already observed from the wording that it should be a post-commentary epilogue, likely originally Xu Congshi’s commentary whose main text no longer survives. The present version happens to match Zhu Xi’s view—is this not a fabrication prompted by Zhu Xi’s remark?

As for Chunyu Shutong, he was merely someone who transmitted the book. Old Daoist lore had separate prefaces attributed to Xu Congshi and Chunyu Shutong; Peng Xiao already refuted this error using the Tang author Liu Zhigu’s Riyue xuanshu lun. Yang Shen again claimed the Sanxiang lei was written by Shutong, using what Peng Xiao had rejected to prove his version was a pre-Tang ancient text. In truth, the origin and end of the Cantong qi, though not explicitly attested in Han–Wei lost writings, appears clearly in Jin texts such as Ge Hong’s Shenxian zhuan, which states that Boyang composed the Cantong qi and Wuxing xianglei, together in three fascicles; Tang texts such as the Jiutangshu · Jingjizi (based on the Kaiyuan neiwai jing lu catalog) likewise record Zhouyi Cantong qi in two fascicles and Zhouyi wu xiang lei in one fascicle, all by Wei Boyang. Which era’s “ancient text” is Yang Shen’s supposed version?

In Jiang Yibiao’s edition, wherever original commentaries say “Master Wei,” all are changed to “Master Xu” to fit this theory—especially contrary to the principle of preserving doubt. Yet after Yang Shen, this version circulated separately; commentators often followed it, so it cannot be eradicated. We now provisionally arrange it by its section order in fascicles, cataloguing it alongside Peng Xiao’s version and others, to mark how forgery and disruption of the old text arose, so later readers will not be misled. Respectfully submitted and collated, tenth month of the forty-sixth year of the Qianlong reign.

In the tenth month of the forty-sixth year of the Qianlong reign, this was respectfully collated and submitted. The chief compilers were Ji Yun, Lu Xiong, and Sun Shiyi; the chief collator was Lu Feichi. Every known edition has been entered in the catalogue so as to explain how this book came to be spuriously altered and its order scrambled, and thus to keep later readers from going astray.

Cantong qi stands at the head of the elixir classics (danjing—texts on refining the elixir). Yet the bibliographies of the Sui and Tang dynasties do not list it at all. Only the Shenxian zhuan (Biographies of Immortals) states that Wei Boyang was a native of Shangyu, skilled in poetry and prosody and abundant in literary talent; he cultivated truth and nourished his resolve, and relying on the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) composed the Cantong qi. Xu Jingxiu wrote a commentary; in the reign of Emperor Huan of Han he passed the work to Chunyu Shutong of the same commandery, and from that time it circulated in the world.

In the Five Dynasties period, Peng Xiao, a Daoist of Yongkang in Shu, divided the whole book into ninety chapters to match the nine revolutions of huohou (the stages of advancing and withdrawing fire in elixir practice); the remaining piece, the Dingqi ge (Song of the Cauldron and Vessel), he matched to the notion that “true lead” (zhenqian—the primordial “medicine” in internal alchemy) “attains unity.” Such forced parallels were not Wei Boyang’s original intent. The text was thereby split and fragmented; later readers could not tell main text from commentary, nor what came from Wei Boyang from what came from Xu Jingxiu and Chunyu Shutong. That confusion began with Peng Xiao.

Zhu Xi’s Kaoyi and his commentary both follow Peng Xiao’s edition. Yu Yan of the Yuan, styled Yuwu, annotated in turn from Zhu Xi’s version. Yuwu wished to sort three-character, four-character, and five-character lines each into their own categories but could not finish. He seems to have known that the order was already wrong and not Wei Boyang’s first wording, yet he too lacked a firm basis.

I once read Zhang Boduan (style name Pingshu)’s Wuzhen pian, which says: “Chunyu Shutong received the teaching from Wei Boyang; this book has remained the foremost of all elixir classics through the ages.” I infer that Zhang Boduan had also seen an ancient text and searched for it many years without success. Recently I met Yang, vice censor-in-chief of Qionglai in Hongya, who said that someone in the south had dug up an earthen casket containing an ancient Cantong qi: three parts (upper, middle, and lower) by Wei Boyang, plus one preface; Xu Jingxiu’s commentary likewise in three parts, plus one postface; Chunyu Shutong’s supplementary Sanxiang lei in upper and lower parts, plus one concluding preface—eleven parts in all. Apparently they had not yet been recklessly reordered by later hands. I at once borrowed it and copied it out.

Before long, someone brought a printed edition from Wu (the Jiangnan region), yet claimed to have pondered and refined until enlightenment came in a flash, as if the spirits had opened his eyes, so that displaced sections and misplaced bamboo slips joined like mist lifting and ice melting. Such talk deceives oneself and others alike—it goes too far. Reading another preface in that same book, one finds again that someone sent a fine copy from Kuaiji, and that once the ancient text appeared, every spurious version was wholly corrected. In fact, within a page or two the truth shows through—truly plugging one’s ears while stealing a bell and hiding the head while leaving the feet exposed; it is laughable.

I rejoice both that the ancient text has reappeared and that one can see a version Zhu Xi never saw—a delight rare in a thousand years—and so I write this preface to preserve the record. Alas! Few ancient texts from the Eastern Han survive to our day; this book is like a broken gui scepter made whole again or a chipped bi disk restored to roundness—precious indeed.

As for explanations that borrow likeness of form, some drift into fangzhong (bedroom arts—cultivation through sexual union) or are taken for luhuo (furnace fire—external cauldron smelting). People ruin their bodies and fortunes; for every ten thousand who succeed, one or two at most, while seven or eight in ten are harmed. Ban Gu said: the lore of immortals is meant to preserve the root of life and not to seek outside oneself; it only helps cleanse the mind and settle the spirit, to dwell with the great transformation of Heaven and Earth without fear in the breast. If anyone makes this a sole vocation, bizarre and far-fetched writing will only multiply—that is not the way sages teach. That judgment is right, and I record it here as well.

Recorded on the tenth day after the winter solstice in the mid-winter of the bingwu year of the Jiajing reign (1546), by Yang Shen of Chengdu, “Cave Heaven True Recluse” (Dongtian Zhenyi).

In the midsummer of the dingyou year of the Wanli reign, I had just recovered from illness and, while resting quietly, browsed widely among alchemical books, hoping to find material useful for inner cultivation. When I read the Cantong qi (the classic revered in later ages as the fountainhead of alchemical scriptures), even with someone’s commentary I remained utterly baffled and had to set it aside. By the jiayin year, eighteen years had passed. I kept wondering: if this book is truly the ancestor of alchemical scriptures, why is it so obscure and utterly without order, making it so hard to understand?

Yesterday, while sorting through the books my late father Yunlong left behind, I came upon a copy of the Cantong qi in ancient prose. It contained Wei Boyang’s (traditionally regarded as author of the Cantong qi) upper, middle, and lower sections plus one introductory piece; Xu Jingxiu’s three annotated sections and one concluding piece; and Chunyu Shutong’s supplementary Sanxiang lei (text coordinating with the Cantong qi) in upper and lower sections plus one postface—eleven pieces in all. It had only the main text, no commentary—a version not garbled by later hands, namely the one described by Yang Shen of Chengdu (style name Sheng’an).

After reading it I understood that what I had seen in earlier years mixed Wei Boyang’s introduction with the annotations and prefaces of Xu Jingxiu and Chunyu Shutong into Wei Boyang’s scripture, creating great confusion. Later commentators did not know where the disorder began; errors were copied onward until scripture and commentary could no longer be told apart, and everything was stitched and polished into continuous prose, inevitably forcing strained interpretations. No wonder later readers, seeing repeated phrasing and overlapping meanings, could not grasp what the original meant and each put forward his own view, hastily misunderstanding the whole. People did not know who first caused the chaos; Master Sheng’an believed it began with Peng Xiao.

I now correct these errors, taking the ancient text as standard throughout. I extract Wei Boyang’s scripture alone and select passages from the commentaries of Peng Xiao, Chen Xianwei, Chen Zhixu, and Yu Yan, excerpting them beneath each section to clarify the meaning of the scripture. Yu Yan’s notes are especially fragmented with the main text—sometimes alternating every line or two—unlike Peng and Chen, who divide by section; selecting from them was very laborious. Where meaning occasionally fails to connect before and after, it is because Xu’s and Chunyu’s notes and prefaces were mixed in—faults of the commentary. Where upper and lower text cannot link, I mark the break with a circle. My book chest held only these four commentaries, so I could include no others.

Xu Jingxiu’s annotated text and Chunyu Shutong’s Sanxiang lei are also transcribed in main text according to the ancient edition, with the four families’ notes attached below; introductory pieces for each section record main text only, without notes. The whole work is in two fascicles: Wei Boyang’s Cantong qi as the upper fascicle, Xu and Chunyu’s annotations and the Sanxiang lei as the lower, forming a complete book. A thousand years of corruption restored at once, and one can again see the ancient text that Peng, Chen, and the others never saw— truly satisfying. I hope future readers will grasp Wei Boyang’s purpose in composing the Cantong qi and no longer be misled by the mingling of scripture and commentary.

The origin of the ancient text, Yang Shen said, was discovery in the south when the earth was dug up—a stone casket—and the details are all in his preface, which I need not repeat here.

On careful reading, the language of the Cantong qi often resembles the Longhu jing (Scripture of the Dragon and Tiger), showing that Wei Boyang developed its meaning on the basis of the Longhu jing, not by wholly imitating the Changes. Broadly, the Longhu jing was composed earliest; the Cantong qi was written in imitation of the Longhu jing; Xu Jingxiu and Chunyu Shutong each wrote imitations in turn and each stated what he had seen. When ancient seekers blended them into one book, it was a grave mistake.

I once met a perfected person (one who had attained the Way) who secretly transmitted alchemical formulas—extremely easy, extremely simple, a phrase or two sufficing, with no need to say more. Viewed that way, is the Cantong qi superfluous? Not so. The author wished to guide later students and used many indirect allusions and curved explanations so the principle would not be stated outright, inviting one to infer beyond the words. Because the matter is precious, the writing had to be circuitous and hidden. Had everything been said in three sentences, that would be oral instructions (koujue). Setting aside that the Dao cannot lightly be fully disclosed—even then people would treat the words lightly, grow negligent, and in practice fail to hold firm intent and single-minded purpose; the great Way would still be hard to complete. This too is Wei Boyang’s intent in borrowing the language of the Changes to expound alchemical method and compose the Cantong qi.

The lower section says: “Only the branches are shown, the root is hidden; various names are borrowed, and many words are used to cover and confuse.” That is precisely this meaning.

In compiling this collected commentary I dare not claim to be Wei Boyang’s benefactor; to Peng Xiao, Chen Xianwei, and the others I may offer slight help. The searching effort of those years is not wasted until today. Thus I write this preface.

On the fifteenth day of the fourth month, jiayin year of Wanli, written by Fuyangzi Jiang Yibiao of Yuyao in Dongyue.

Gawen Cantong Qi Jijie (Collected Explanations of the Ancient Text Cantong Qi), the upper scroll, is included in the Qing Siku Quanshu (Imperial Complete Library of the Four Treasures); it was compiled by Jiang Yibiao of the Ming. The Cantong Qi is the work of Wei Boyang of the Eastern Han. The upper section chiefly explains how Fuxi, King Wen of Zhou, and Confucius—the three sages—followed the principle of the Qian hexagram’s “riding the six dragons to govern Heaven” to expound the great Way of the Zhouyi (Book of Changes).

Qian is firm and strong; Kun is soft and yielding—they complement and embrace each other. Yang receives; yin undertakes; male and female rely on one another, thereby driving creation so that refined qi can unfold. Kan and Li stand foremost, their light shining down and spreading in the four directions. What is deep and subtle cannot be fully measured or drawn in a picture. The sages weighed and sought it, arranging and joining the root of origin. Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li merge into one and enter straight into emptiness. The other sixty hexagrams spread all around like carriage sides; dragon and horse are harnessed, and the enlightened ruler steers the seasons. When there is harmony they move together on a level path; on a crooked way the road is hard and blocked, and the state falls into ruin.

The noble person sits in his room; when his words are good and fitting, they are answered from a thousand li away. This means: a ruler with ten thousand chariots, dwelling in the ninefold palace, must issue commands in accord with the measure of yin and yang; he treasures talent and waits for the right time and must not go against the month ruled by each hexagram. The Zhun hexagram applies to zi and shen months, Meng to yin and xu; the other sixty each have their governing days. Here only these two are roughly noted—the full account is not given. Establish principle and set penalties; when benevolence is due, grant favor. Those who resist are ominous; those who comply are auspicious. Follow the calendar and statutes with a sincere, single-minded, careful intent; guard each day’s hours and examine the waxing and waning of yin and yang. Even a deviation as small as a mustard seed can bring regret and stinginess and become harm.

If the degrees of the winter and summer solstices are disturbed, the solar terms skew and misalign: bitter cold in deep winter or frost and snow in high summer; spring and autumn equinoxes out of balance, not matching the clepsydra (water-clock) hours. Then flood and drought alternate, wind and rain lose their measure, locusts swarm forth, and many strange things appear; omens show in heaven, mountains collapse and earth splits. A filial son with sincere heart can also move the august pole (the supreme standard of centrality and correctness). Words leave one’s mouth yet their effect reaches distant lands: they may bring disaster or blessing, raise great peace or stir war. These four outcomes all spring from the heart.

Movement and stillness must have regular pattern; follow the fixed plumb line. The four seasons each suit their office and align with the qi nodes. Firm and yielding are already fixed and do not mix. The Five Phases each keep their bounds and do not casually increase or decrease fullness. The Way of the Yi circulates—bending and extending, going and returning. Hidden change sinks within, wrapping the ten thousand things and becoming the warp of the Dao. Using “nothing” to restrain “something,” a vessel can be used because it is hollow within. Thus when one pursues the messages of yin and yang, one sees Kan and Li vanish at the dark and new moon.

Speech is not casually made up; discussion is not produced from nothing. One must cite what can be verified and see practical effect, calibrating the spirit’s transformations; seek kindred cases and parse the text, taking principle as proof. Wu in Kan is the essence of the moon; ji in Li is the light of the sun; sun and moon united is “change,” firm and yielding matching each other. Earth is strong in the four seasons and runs through beginning and end; green, red, white, and black occupy the four directions—Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water—all receiving the efficacy of central wu and ji.

Between the last day of the month and the new moon, tokens align and travel the middle path. In primordial chaos, male and female follow each other; fluid and moisture moisten, transforming and circulating. The spirit of Heaven and Earth cannot be measured; if a person uses it well, he can settle his life and hide his traces.

What follows matches the moon’s waxing and waning through one month to the lines of the Qian hexagram, showing the rise and fall of yang qi; later practitioners of refinement also often use this to sense advance and retreat of firing times. It begins from the northeast at the lodges Jiao and Dou, turning right like a wheel sprouting new buds. A form appears in the deep pool and sends forth clear light. Above the lodges Mao and Bi, the Zhen hexagram appears as omen. Yang begins here—initial nine, “hidden dragon.” Yang is fixed on the third day, yin penetrates on the eighth. On the third, Zhen moves; on the eighth, Dui runs. Second nine, “dragon appearing”—even and bright. On the third, fifth, and fifteenth days merit is complete and the Qian body is finished. Third nine, “tending at evening”—wondrous tokens begin to break; flourishing and decline gradually shift and return to the start. Xun continues the line; seal and hold fast and do not let it slip. Fourth nine, “or leaping”—advance and retreat both hold danger; Gen governs stopping and going and must not miss the moment. The twenty-third day governs the waning half’s term. Fifth nine, “flying dragon”—ascending the heavenly seat with added rejoicing. Second six, Kun receives, summing beginning and end, nourishing the many offspring, mother of the same kind generation after generation. Top nine, “arrogant dragon”—contending in virtue on the plain; “use nine” moves lightly back and forth, becoming the rule of the Dao. Yang’s number is exhausted; exhausted, it rises again. Push feeling and join nature, turning to mutual giving; like the armillary sphere (instrument for measuring heaven, also the pivot of the Northern Dipper’s turn), rising and falling above and below. The six lines circulate—it is hard to see a fixed place; that is precisely the ancestor of the Yi.

Below, the twelve message hexagrams are matched to the twelve months and twelve pitch pipes to show yin and yang’s waxing and waning through the year. At new moon’s dawn comes the Fu hexagram; yang qi begins to open, going in and out without ailment; erect the gnomon and the faint firm qi can be seen. Yellow Bell (first of the twelve pipes) is set in the zi month; the sign of life gradually brightens; sowing softness and warmth lets the people live as usual.

At Lin, it is like drawing a branch from the furnace—opening the path and giving birth to light. Radiance grows stronger and days lengthen. In the chou month, Great Clarity (Da Lü) sets high and low tones straight.

Further to Tai: firm and yielding flourish together, yin and yang meet, the small goes out and the great comes in. In yin month, like spokes gathering at the hub, turning to keep the season.

Gradually to Da Zhuang, flanking the mao gate. Elm seeds fall and return to root; punishment and virtue balance, day and night begin to divide equally.

At Guai, yin retreats and yang advances forward, washing wings and shaking off old dust. Qian is strong and bright, broadly covering the four neighbors. Yang ends at si, in the center clashing with yin and held in check.

Gou begins to mark the sequence; the omen of “treading frost” appears first. Cold spring wells up from the bottom; wu month is Ruibin—yang as guest submits to yin, yin becomes host.

Dun leaves its place, gathers refined qi, holds virtue and waits for the time, staying in obscurity.

Pi is blocked and does not pass; what should sprout cannot sprout. Yin extends and yang bends; yang’s name and trace are covered and harmed (some commentators read “harmed” and link “shangyi” to the seventh-month pitch Yize). At Guan, observe weights and measures and examine mid-autumn’s condition: store tiny tender life, the withered flourish again; shepherd’s purse and wheat put forth shoots and grow under cover.

Bo makes the limbs rot and traces vanish. Transforming qi is exhausted and utmost spirit is lost with it. When the Dao is exhausted it returns toward Kun’s origin; forever following earth’s pattern, receiving Heaven’s Dao and spreading it abroad.

Profound, distant, vast and hard to see—though separated, they are linked. Matching degrees and gestating seed—this is yin and yang’s root origin. Empty and vast, one does not know its beginning. At first one loses the track; later one becomes lord in turn. Nothing is only level without tilting—this is the Dao’s nature. Decline and rise alternate; waning and growth succeed each other; finally Kun, then again beginning at Fu, like following linked rings. If a sovereign can receive and steer this principle, he may endure for a thousand autumns.

The first task of governing is to renew the old through change. Control must be fine; when opening out, bestow treasure. The key is the Dipper’s handle—by it the warp of change is commanded. Line images move within; fortune and misfortune show without. The five planets may err or align and move with the times; if the twenty-eight lodges stray, they skew, scatter, and lose their pitch. Wenchang star oversees the records and questions the Three Terraces’ ministers; the hundred officials each keep their duty.

Tracing origin and summing end, one sees the thread of survival and perdition. Either the ruler is proud and full and goes against the Dao, or ministers are corrupt and their conduct leaves the track. If the moon’s quarters, fullness, and shrinkage are disordered, misfortune arises. If enforcers only know to ridicule and blame faults, they leave calamity for the ruler. The pole star rests in correct position and calmly entrusts subordinates; the enlightened ruler spreads policy and the state does not harm the right Way.

Chen Weixian said: Qian and Kun, rigidity and softness—these two aspects cooperate and contain each other; yang naturally gives, yin naturally receives and stores. Yang is the male principle, responsible for spreading and bestowing; yin is the female principle, responsible for holding and accepting. Yang alone cannot generate; yin alone cannot nurture; male and female must rely on each other, and when essence-Qi unfolds, creation is accomplished. Human conception too is always the result of yin and yang joining—hence one should take the hexagrams Qian and Kun as the starting point.

Now, “Kan and Li lead the sequence” means that Qian and Kun are like heaven and earth, while Kan and Li are like sun and moon. Heaven and earth each hold their place and cannot merge into one; what crosses and unites within them is sun and moon. Thus Qian and Kun are the substance of the medicine, Kan and Li its function. Saying only that Kan and Li stand first is to show that the great medicine’s entire operation lies in Kan and Li. In this way Qian and Kun are the cauldron (in internal alchemy, often the body), Kan and Li the medicine. Yet the work of Kan and Li occurs between the two substances of Qian and Kun, rising and falling, flying or hiding, with no fixed place—how could it be easy to draw in a diagram? The sages wished to fathom the mystery within and instruct students; they could only have people observe among the sixty miscellaneous hexagrams: sometimes one yang line, sometimes one yin line, above or below, subtle and hard to measure. One should be like a wise ruler driving a carriage, taking the sixty hexagrams as the vehicle, mounting calmly in wuwei (non-action), then proceeding at ease, slowly advancing, relaxed and smooth, all the way steady. From beginning to end one cycles through the hexagrams—where would there be peril? Hence it is said: when mind and intention are harmonious, one follows the straight path; the road is level and one does not enter deviation. If one fails to understand this and rashly takes a crooked path, there is the worry of overturning and collapse. Liu Haichan said, “Do not let the Purple River Chariot (ziheche—the metaphor for Qi rising and falling along the body’s central pathway) turn over”—the same meaning as here: though the road is level, one must still guard against hazards and cannot be careless.

The passage “the noble person dwells in his chamber” means that for one refining the elixir, staying in a quiet room all year is especially arduous. The movement is slight, yet what is stirred is great—like a ruler of ten thousand chariots deep in the ninefold palace: every motion and rest, every word and silence, bears on harmony with heaven. This matches what the Yijing says: “The noble person dwells in his chamber; his influence is felt a thousand li away.” One should simply follow the ascent and descent of yin and yang, and decide advance and retreat according to punishment (xing) and virtue (de): like holding a supreme treasure, like protecting the eyeball, like nurturing an infant, like carrying a brimming vessel—await the moment and do not violate the fit between hexagram and month. The hexagram Dun runs from the zi hour to the shen hour; Meng from the yin hour to the xu hour; the rest each have their times. Two hexagrams per day, six lines per two-hour watch. To discern yin and yang one must distinguish day and night; to know day and night one must distinguish black and white. Once black and white are clear, the hexagram lines are obtained. The Yijing says “through penetrating the way of day and night one knows”—this is meant.

From “for now I set forth the two images” to “regret and stinginess are robbers”: the two images are Dun and Meng. Where the matter is not fully clarified, one dare not disclose the entire secret of fire timing (the rhythm of advance and retreat in practice). When the student meets a teacher and receives the essential formula, one acts according to the hours; after the elixir head (dantou—the first coalescence of the medicine) is formed, one must follow the calendar, with utmost sincerity, single-mindedness, and secrecy, carefully awaiting day and night and scrutinizing the messages (xiaoxi). When yang appears, advance—like assuming benevolence and bestowing grace; when yin appears, retreat—like establishing righteousness and imposing penalty. Accord brings fortune; opposition brings misfortune. If even a hair’s breadth is wrong, regret and stinginess lodge within and become harm—like weeds in the seedlings or dust on a mirror. When people refine cinnabar they still fear error in water and fire; how much more this golden liquid great elixir?

From “the two solstices change their measure” to “it arises from the breast”: the two solstices are winter and summer solstice, where yin and yang begin to be born. If one errs, celestial change follows: snow in summer, thunder in winter— calamities beyond measure. The two equinoxes are spring and autumn equinox, where yin and yang divide. Error brings the same heavenly anomalies: mountains collapse, earth splits, flood and drought—endless to tell. This means that when the fire-worker misses the moment and slips, the true embryo (the elixir fetus) is harmed and the world itself may crumble. The scripture compares the true embryo to a filial son and fortune and disaster to the royal pivot: whether one draws great peace, war, calamity, or blessing—all is summoned from the fire-worker’s inner breast. The method of refining the elixir is no different from governing the realm. In governing, response already follows like shadow the form and echo the sound; how much more when seizing heaven-and-earth’s creation and matching heaven and earth in virtue and movement?

From “movement and rest have constants” to “bend, stretch, return, and turn”: since fire timing and fortune and disaster are as above, movement and rest should have fixed norms, like following a plumb line—do not miss the fitness of the four seasons, and naturally yin and yang Qi will harmonize. Rigidity does not overstep; softness does not shrink back; whether bending or stretching, returning or turning over, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) circulate each within its boundary, and then there need be no worry.

From “hidden, submerged, and concealed” to “the backbone of the Way”: hidden beyond measure, submerged and hard to find—yet within, change gives birth to the supreme treasure. Like yin and yang joining to generate the ten thousand things—this is the backbone of the Dao.

From “using the non-being to control being” to “Kan and Li vanish”: The Jingbi jing says: being and non-being restrain each other; the vermilion bird burns in the void; purple brilliance mirrors the white sun; sand and mercury disappear from sight. Wei Boyang’s words expound the Jingbi jing’s intent: to use the empty fire in nature to control the supreme treasure of water in fate. Fire’s substance is originally empty; it appears only when it meets things; whatever is empty and bright without self-clinging is fire’s virtue. When fire is worked in the cauldron of great emptiness, filling the sky with purple flame and the realm with red light, golden palaces and jade towers manifest a thousand scenes and divine beasts and spirit dragons soar in myriad forms—this is lead and mercury, this is Kan and Li; they are certainly not “nothing.” Yet once the work is done, where are they after all? Hence: trace the messages, and Kan and Li vanish.

From “words are not casually fabricated” to “the merit of Wu and Ji”: In the hexagram na-jia method (matching hexagrams to the ten heavenly stems), Kan takes the sixth Wu (liu wu), Li the sixth Ji (liu ji). Kan is the moon, Li the sun—hence Kan-Wu is the moon’s essence, Li-Ji the sun’s splendor. The characters for “sun” and “moon” together form the character for “change” (yi)—hence deduction and knotting of characters. These are proofs from principle, not fabricated speech. Since change is nothing outside sun and moon, is the elixir not rooted in Kan and Li? Yet Kan and Li both harbor Wu and Ji. The ancients said: only because each holds true earth can the golden elixir return. Moreover earth dominates the four seasons and threads through beginning and end. Water, fire, metal, and wood each occupy a direction yet all receive the central palace’s earth virtue. Zhang Ziyang’s verse says “the four images and five phases all borrow earth”—earth’s merit is vast. Earth is metal’s mother. Know that the five phases all return to earth, and you know the five phases can all become gold; then one can grasp creation in the central palace and sow the yellow sprout (huangya—the first sprout of the elixir) in the rear earth.

From “between dark moon and new moon” to “scattering essence-light”: At the interval between the last day of the month and the new moon, one should act in accord with the talisman on the middle path, like primordial chaos—beyond measure. This is the time when female and male follow each other, moistening with fluid and flowing with transformation—how can one apply force? Hence one uses settling the body, hiding form and storing away. Yet from the region of Ji and Dou (two northern lodges), one can let the moon’s disk spit new buds and scatter radiance. Hanshanzi’s verse says “do not expose the root; when the root is empty the child falls”—because substance and function differ, the work differs too.

From “above Mao and Bi” to “turning and succeeding each other”: Wei Boyang uses the moon’s waxing and waning in a month to mirror the hexagrams’ advance and retreat. On the third day is one yang; on the eighth, two yang; on the fifteenth three yang are complete and the Qian body is achieved. On the sixteenth one yin is born; on the twenty-third two yin; on the thirtieth three yin are complete and the Kun body is achieved. The lodges Mao and Bi lie in the west at the geng position. Each month on the third day the moon shows a sliver in the west at geng, matching the hexagram Zhen’s first yang; in na-jia, Zhen takes the sixth geng (liu geng)—creation’s pattern fits thus. On the eighth the moon shows first quarter in the south at ding, matching Dui’s two yang; Dui takes the sixth ding (liu ding). By the fifteenth the moon is full in the east at jia; Qian again takes the sixth jia (liu jia). Then the hexagram has three yang, the “three-five” path is complete; fullness turns to waning, extension to bending, high to low, rise to fall. On the sixteenth one yin is born; yin holds sway; at dawn the moon appears in the west at xin, matching Xun taking xin. By the twenty-third at dawn it appears in the south at bing, matching Gen taking bing. By the thirtieth it hides in the east at yi, matching Kun taking yi. When the nodal points are exhausted, they succeed each other again and yang resumes its role.

From “the cycle of the armillary” to “ancestor of the Changes”: Within one day, fire timing revolves like the armillary sphere (xuanji): from the zi hour ascending to the wu hour descending, cycling through six lines. Though there is no visible trace, one silently transforms in the heart. Then the spirit medicine follows the sun’s coming and going, rising and falling without pause—what fixed position is there? Hence it accords with the Great Change’s principle of yang rising and yin descending. “Ancestor of the Changes” means the sages first awakened to the golden elixir, cultivated it themselves, transcended the mundane and became sage, then wrote this principle into the Yijing to guide later people. From this one knows the Great Change was fashioned from the great elixir, and the great elixir’s way is the ancestor of the Changes.

From “new moon morning is Fu” to “the masses obtain their constancy”: Midnight zi is the thread where fire timing begins. Before one yang is born and before fire timing moves, yin gathers like the people without a leader. Once fire timing moves and yang begins to penetrate, spreading warmth and steaming the cauldron, light already shows an omen and becomes master of the myriad transformations. Then the cultivator can silently match the moment of advancing fire, taking subtle firmness as the rule—going out and in, gathering and releasing without haste. From then one gradually builds until pure Qian, smelted into treasure. At the very first effort one must be especially careful. An elder’s verse says “in cold night one should tend the fire, gathering the multitude until dawn”—meaning to spread gentle warmth so the masses obtain their constancy.

From “approaching the furnace to apply the rod” to “binding upright the low and high”: The chou hour is the fire timing of advancing two yang. By then light gradually increases, the mysterious path opens, and brightness stands forth. Yang is born from below; one should bind at the low place—work fits the low; past this line one gradually raises to follow creation’s moment. Hence binding upright the low and the high.

From “raising to achieve Tai” to “moving and hastening the time”: The yin hour is advancing three yang. By then rigidity and softness divide; yin and yang each half. Water above, fire below—hence essence-water rises while spirit-fire inclines downward. What is raised should ascend; what rises should descend; yin and yang meet, the small goes and the great comes—creation gathers here.

From “gradually passing through Da Zhuang” to “day and night first divide”: The mao hour is advancing four yang—the bathing (muyu: pausing sharp advance and retreat for gentle nurturing) fire timing. Day and night first balance; life and killing each half. All things flourish in spring, yet alone the elm catkins fall then, because elm catkins match the stars, which hide at dawn. This cross-checks the golden elixir with the myriad forms of the cosmos—and the myriad forms too are born from sun and moon.

From “Guai: yin retreats” to “shaking off accumulated dust”: The chen hour is advancing five yang. Five yang ascend; the water source is clear—as a bird leaves the water, shakes its wings, about to soar in a heaven-striving act.

From “Qian: firm, full, bright” to “meeting in the middle”: The si hour is advancing six yang. Pure Qian’s body is complete; moon round, water full, light abundant, spirit full— upright not biased, round not lacking, light spread to the four directions, brightness through the ten directions. Yang ends at si and meets in the middle.

From “Gou begins the thread” to “yin is master”: The wu hour is the tally of retreating one yin (opposite to advancing yang fire). Yin is master, yang guest. If one does not know master within guest and guest within master, a hair’s error does great harm. Do not think one yin just sprouting cannot harm—cold spring is already at the well bottom; tread frost and know solid ice is near. Elders urgently distinguished guest and master for this reason.

From “Dun: leaving the world and position” to “lingering in dim obscurity”: The wei hour retreats two yin—like retiring from office, lingering in obscurity.

From “Pi: blockage, no passage” to “yang’s name is lost”: The shen hour retreats three yin; yang’s name is hidden.

From “observe its weight and measure” to “borrowing cap to be born”: The you hour retreats four yin—bathing within the tally. Shepherd’s purse and wheat match the sun, hence sprout in the eighth month; the sun’s soul forms the embryo at you. Wood hides its embryo then; earth bathes then—hence you is the bathing hour.

From “Bo: limbs rotting” to “losing the utmost spirit”: The xu hour retreats five yin; limbs rot, utmost spirit is lost.

From “when the Way is exhausted it returns” to “receiving heaven’s proclamation”: The hai hour retreats six yin; the Way exhausted returns, receiving heaven’s spread.

From “mysterious, remote, and far” to “preserved a thousand years”: The lodestone draws iron; the burning mirror (yangsui) gathers fire from the sun; the square vessel (fangzhu) gathers water from the moon—all are yin and yang responding across obstruction. Who can fathom the edge? At first cultivation seems obscure; when fire timing is complete and elixir power mature, one knows this body is like the World-Honored One, like an emperor in chariot and reins. Is this Way outside the pivot “ending in Kun, beginning in Fu”?

From “head of governing” to “each keeps its department”: The opening of work is like the head of government—one must curb indulgence and appetite, govern and bind original Qi so it is tight and firm without fear of leakage; naturally one places the treasure in the golden embryo and lets spirit be born in the jade chamber. A hair’s difference is like governmental error, stirring response in season and making heaven’s change deviate. The key is to work fire to subtlety and observe the Big Dipper’s ladle’s turn: the line image moves within, fortune and disaster rise without; if the five regulators (the five planets metal, wood, water, fire, earth) slip, the host of stars follow awry. The elixir dwells in the spirit chamber like the ruler founding the state; the ruler’s founding takes heaven as model: there are the Three Terraces as posts for ministers, Wenchang as the office of records. The terraces and ministers sit and discuss the Way, harmonize yin and yang, and let the hundred officials each fulfill duty—hence blame falls on the terraces. The records office weighs talent, promotes or demotes worthy and unworthy, and lets the hundred officials each use their ability—hence records rest in Wenchang. When the hundred officers and departments each answer to their role, the people and ten thousand things are settled and the realm is at peace. When each hexagram’s fire tally misses no degree, the myriad transformations flow and the sage embryo grows. Yet governing the realm depends on what one person summons; refining the elixir depends on what one heart summons.

From “origin and end required” to “the state without harm to the Way”: If the ruler is arrogant, full, and against the Way, earth’s number is excessive and the weight (fenliang) is wrong; if ministers are wicked and act off the track, water’s ounces (zhuliang) cannot settle. When weight has surplus or deficit, things turn awry and calamity is invited. One should not blame fire—the fault is in earth. The Jingbi jing says “it is not fire’s fault; blame falls on earth”—this is meant. The elixir in the spirit chamber is like the North Star above, rectifying the host of stars; the ruler’s governance faces the ten thousand states. Upright and unmoving, the myriad forms comply respectfully; seated with folded hands in wuwei, the realm is peaceful. This is taking heaven as model in governing, and elixir method is governing too.

Peng Xiao said: Qian stands for firmness and strength, Kun for softness and yielding—the two match one another; the Northern Dipper sits in heaven, aligning the host of stars. When a ruler governs, he faces all the realms. If the center is upright and does not act rashly, the myriad phenomena become deferential and orderly; sitting upright with hands folded, clear and still in wuwei (non-action), the realm is at peace. Governing by taking heaven as model, the rules of refining the elixir are likewise a kind of “governing.”

To cultivate the golden fluid returned elixir, one first establishes the tripod vessel of Qian-Kun already in mutual completion, then lets yin and yang join essence within it; next one turns water and fire, Kan and Li, so sun and moon, dragon and tiger meet in sequence—only then does light appear in the cauldron. All of this depends on probing the sage texts and finding the “mother of the medicine,” so that Qian, Kun, Li, and Kan blend and accord, rising and falling through the six voids, spreading the five qi, following the sixty hexagrams and the twelve double-hours—as if preparing chariots to welcome the dragon-horse. Within is the central palace’s gold mother, like a ruler governing the state: following the seasons, moving with harmonious qi, allowing wuwei and great accord. Then the road is level: going out, one must return. If the firing is uneven and the timing lacks a standard, the path grows perilous, as when a state totters and the gold consort in the spirit chamber can no longer be nourished and raised. The crux of the golden elixir lies entirely in the two words “lead” and “fire.” Lead-fire is water-fire, the root of return; the rest of the five phases and seasonal nodes are only auxiliaries. The gold consort is the gold mother.

The Yi says: When the noble person stays within the chamber, if what he says is good, even a thousand leagues away there will be response. This likens the gold elder in the spirit chamber to the ruler dwelling above the ninefold palace. Morning and evening, turning water and fire is like issuing commands: every qi must find its place; one must also be quiet in wuwei, hide the vessel and await the hour, follow the line texts and the clepsydra marks, and inspect one by one the morning-and-evening signs of hexagrams such as Zhun and Meng. The sixty hexagrams correspond to a month’s climate; day and night each receive one hexagram, cycling without end. Yin and Shen are the positions where yin-yang begins and ends.

The so-called “two images” are water and fire, yin and yang. From Zi to Si belongs to spring and summer—the time when fire qi arises and warms and nourishes; spirit is contained in the vessel, like enacting benevolent virtue. From Wu to Hai belongs to autumn and winter—the time when killing qi descends; spirit mercury congeals in the embryo, like establishing punitive justice. Wei Boyang wanted later people to understand the sun and moon’s degrees and the waxing and waning of yin and yang, to follow the hexagram lines and the cold and heat, carefully watch messages coming and going, so that within the cauldron no regret or blame arises and no “bandits” stir in the images—red essence descends as qi, white mercury takes form, and the golden fluid returned elixir is soon achieved.

Winter solstice, summer solstice, spring equinox, and autumn equinox are Zi, Wu, Mao, and You among the twelve double-hours, marking the boundaries of the four seasons. Earth virtue also patrols at the end of each season, generating the forms of dragon-tiger and metal-wood. The pattern is not only the four seasons: within the twelve double-hours one further divides twenty-four qi nodes and seventy-two hou, symbolizing a year’s qi tally. If the clepsydra is off by a hair’s breadth, sun and moon lose their measure, new and full moon skew, day and night fail to align. If yang fire passes its scale, flood and drought fall out of tune and deep winter turns to scorching heat; if yin tally loses its rhythm, cold and warmth invade one another and midsummer becomes heavy frost. Then sand and mercury do not generate in the gold palace, and worms and pests rise together in the jade cauldron. On a large scale it is like mountains collapsing and earth sinking, gold tiger and wood dragon boiling over; on a small scale like violent rain and gusting wind, Kan male and Li female scattering. Gold tiger and wood dragon are the hun-souls of east and west; Kan male and Li female are the husband and wife of south and north. “Filial sons scattering” means the true mercury in the embryo, through errors in firing, flies off without rest—even bursting from the cauldron mouth and falling into outer regions. Auspice and misfortune, rise and fall, and all the signs of change above come from the firing operator’s inner deliberation. If one can take celestial mechanism as model, measure sun and moon, adjust firing with care, and sincerely follow the diagrams in moving fire, calling harmonious qi into the cauldron to produce Qian’s essence and letting the true lord in the embryo bring forth Kun’s pure refinement—that is called true cinnabar-mercury.

In turning water and fire, movement and stillness must both follow the hours, so dragon and tiger qi depend on each other, mother and child embrace layer upon layer and cling to one another; the five phases each keep their bounds, the four seasons circulate, fullness and emptiness never fail, going and returning without loss—success then lies within sight. Whether hidden or manifest, used or submerged, they are the root of mutual change and the mother of generation—hence this is called the guiding rope of the Dao.

“Non-being” is the dragon, the yang of mercury; “being” is the tiger, the yin substance of lead. Lead and mercury sit in an empty vessel and cannot by themselves give rise to change—they depend on Kan and Li rising and falling, pushing through the four seasons, before generation appears. This is using the empty vessel, using non-being to restrain being. The Dragon-Tiger Classic says: being and non-being restrain each other, and the vermilion bird burns in emptiness. Then when yin arises yang retreats; when yang rises yin hides—one waning, one waxing, and Kan and Li hide or emerge with the hour.

Sages do not casually invent empty words to mislead later people, so they cite sun and moon for verification, push divine efficacy, distinguish firm from yielding, point to metal and water, take dragon and tiger as images, turn yin and yang to gather essence, complete the work with the five earths, and use the four seasons as closure, so green, red, white, and black cycle in turn—all receiving from Wu and Ji. Kan pairs with Wu as the essence of the moon: the moon is yin, Wu is yang—yin within yang, symbolizing the gold tiger born from water. Li pairs with Ji as the splendor of the sun: the sun is yang, Ji is yin—yang within yin, symbolizing the mercury dragon born from fire. Refining the elixir is gathering the essence of sun and moon, storing the spiritual qi of yin and yang; when the circuit of heaven’s stars is full and yin-yang’s movement ends, merit all returns to earth virtue and spirit is complete. The character yi (change) takes its image from sun and moon.

Between dark of moon and new moon is the time when metal and water unite—after Gen, before Yin. Yang tally has retreated; metal and water share one root, chaos accords, female and male match; flowing metal moistens and pours fluid upon the mother’s embryo, generating spirit—beyond measure. It can also settle the body and extend use, hide the form, lie hidden in the deep pool, spiritual light gradually issuing. Turning to the northeast is meeting new moon and rising again: from the lodges Ji and Dou it wheels westward, like a wheel spitting new buds, light gradually showing, yet still in hidden yin, about to restore the original round phase. So at northeast Gen, following the positions of arising and ending, “hidden dragon” is stirred again. This likens when the tally reaches between Xu and Hai: metal and water in the cauldron are as if passing dark moon and nearing Zi when generation occurs. Gen is not far from Yin—hence “spitting the wheel, buds appear.” The gold mother at dark-and-new moon lets metal and water flow freely; at the first day meeting Zi’s one-yang fire, metal meeting fire shines anew, rotates leftward and spits buds, gradually producing the dragon body. So the text below says: flourishing and decline gradually transform, ultimately returning to the beginning.

The moon is first born above the western lodges Mao and Bi. Running yang fire to Zi and Chou, one is about to turn the five-day-one-cycle qi—from there one yang line is born again. When Zhen qi first stirs, it is the opening of generation; yang qi in the cauldron therefore gradually grows; by the “three-five” fifteenth day it becomes pure Qian and the form is accomplished. Yang “ establishes in three days”: fire moves three days, yang qi in the cauldron first spreads—hence “third day, Zhen moves.” Yin “ penetrates in eight days”: past two hou, two yang lines arise; on the eighth day Dui metal is usable, metal-water qi balances—upper chord—metal and water communicate—hence “eighth day, Dui moves.” “Nine-two, dragon appears”—level and bright: at upper chord the form is only half, likening metal and water in the cauldron receiving Yin-Mao tally, yin and yang each half. “Three-five, virtue complete”: reaching nine-three, Qian moves to Chen and Si, exactly three hou full, fifteen days total, all three lines pure yang, Qian body complete. After this yin and yang divide—hence “flourishing and decline gradually change, ultimately return to the start,” cycling without end.

Xun inherits yin’s lineage. “Nine-four, perhaps leaping, advance and retreat—the way is perilous”: yang lines retreat, becoming one yin line as Xun—thus receiving yin tally, moving five days above Wu and Wei. Yielding lines gradually advance; yin qi wheels back and generates, wrapping yang essence so it dare not flee in disorder. Four hou full, two yin lines arise. Gen moves the fifth hou; tally reaches Shen and You, meeting lower chord, the twenty-third day—metal and water level again. “Nine-five, flying dragon—heaven’s position, added joy”: six hou total thirty days; Kun moves yin tally to Xu and Hai; Qian-Kun qi both full, dragon-tiger yin-yang and the numbers of the myriad things circulate through—hence “nine-five added joy.” “Six-five, Kun receives, binding beginning and end, nourishing the multitude of sons, generation after generation mother of change”: Kun first changes one line to yang, becoming Zhen, Qian’s eldest son, until all three lines change, becoming pure yang Qian; yang at the pole then yin is born, again on Qian’s body one line becomes yin, becoming Xun, Kun’s eldest daughter, until all three become yin, pure Kun. Beginning and end, emergence and submergence—all are long-nourished by Kun’s body, hence generation after generation mother of the Yi. The multitude of sons are the multitude of hexagrams. Therefore Kun holds the beginning and end of the returned elixir, becoming the rule of the Dao. “Use nine, lightly soaring”—yang number has reached its end, excess extreme and mandate to yield place—then turning to mutual accord.

Above it says Qian and Kun are the rule of the Dao. To follow the law of yin and yang, one must follow the Dipper’s motion. Change is complete in the six lines, circulating without fixed position—this is the ancestor of change’s way. It likens Kan and Li moving qi in the cauldron, wheeling through the six voids within the hexagram images—no one can peek; hidden and subtle it arises in secret—this is the ancestor of the medicine.

New moon day is the Fu hexagram: five yin one yang—yin at the extreme, yang rises again. Among the six yielding lines’ lower body, the first becomes one firm line—the omen of one yang arising—so from Zi’s beginning yang fire is raised. Yang qi first penetrates; pitch responds to Yellow Bell; within the cauldron it receives qi that guards yang and begins to build the root of cinnabar sand and mercury. Five yin one yang, with yang as lord—qi spreads and flows everywhere without gap—this is “going out and in without illness.” The Yi says: Fu is returning to its way; in Fu one sees the heart of heaven and earth. It likens heaven-and-earth’s cauldron from here beginning to generate the myriad things. Corresponds to the eleventh month, Zi hour—advance yang fire.

Lin hexagram: four yin two yang—likens moving Chou hour fire; yang virtue gradually advances, light filling the cauldron. After winter solstice days lengthen daily; yang qi gradually spreads, generating spirit qi and essence. Tally responds to Great Clarity. “Knot upright, low and high”—metal and water feel qi, gradually congealing flowing beads above. Corresponds to twelfth month, Chou hour—advance yang fire.

Tai hexagram: three yin three yang—yin and yang qi balanced, like husband and wife coupling, dragon-tiger essence gradually showing, gold and mercury flourishing—hence “small goes, great comes.” The Yi says: There is no slope without level, no going without returning—this is the way yin and yang carry one another. Corresponds to first month, Yin hour—advance yang fire.

Da Zhuang hexagram: two yin four yang—mid-spring yang qi though strong still holds yin within; the yin path is about to leave, so elm seeds fall with yang. Punishment and virtue face each other: second and eighth months are when yin and yang take their positions. Yang is virtue—virtue then the myriad things live; yin is punishment—punishment then the myriad things die. Second month yang holds yin—yin qi violates things, elm seeds fall in mid-spring, symbolizing gold sand moving with remnant yin qi, falling into the embryo—hence returning to root. Eighth month yin holds yang—yang qi arises, shepherd’s purse revives in mid-autumn, symbolizing metal and water with remnant yang qi spreading fluid, filling the chamber—hence flourishing again. The Guan hexagram below on punishment and virtue mutually bearing, yin and yang mutually pausing, refers to this. Corresponds to second month, Mao hour—rest tally.

Guai hexagram: one yin five yang—yang rises yin retreats; yang qi already strong, a minute yin remains in the cauldron, washed by Chen fire; gold sand is cleansed, like wings shaking off old dust. Corresponds to third month, Chen hour—advance yang fire.

The Yi says: Great indeed is Qian’s origin! Firm, centered, pure and single. Qian’s origin is what the myriad things rely on to begin. From winter solstice one yang born until pure yang—clouds move, rain falls, categories stream and take form. It likens the cauldron from eleventh month receiving tally until fourth month all six lines become pure Qian—completing the elixir. The gold embryo meeting correct yang fire—metal meeting fire becomes vessel, brighter still, spreading to the four neighbors, filling the cauldron chamber. Corresponds to fourth month, Si hour—advance yang fire. “Center yet mutually cutting”—yang at pole generates yin, i.e. below yin comes to violate yang virtue.

The Yi says: Gou is meeting. Five yang one yin—yin born, yang retreats; yin and yang divide; dragon and tiger mate—hence meeting. Also “tied to the metal spindle, perseverance auspicious”: one yin first leads, tied after Wu hour, changing until extreme yin. “Treading frost” earliest: one yin first born must reach extreme yin; having slight frost must reach solid ice. “Well-bottom cold spring”: under five yang is one yin—yin qi not yet able to stretch; though five yang are many, yin just receives office. Among six lines, five yin one yang take yang as lord; five yang one yin take yin as lord—the many take the few as lord—hence yin is master. The gold mother in the cauldron is originally great yin water essence; first receiving yin’s faint message, metal and water slightly stretch in feeling—one should know solid ice and extreme yin will come. Corresponds to fifth month, Wu hour—retreat yin tally.

Dun hexagram: four yang two yin—yin qi gradually strong, yang qi gradually weak. Yang withdraws from its position, gathers true essence awaiting what comes; remnant yang sits within yin, gradually to be cut off, then wanders in obscurity. The Yi says: Things cannot always retreat—so await the hour. It likens red dragon essence in the cauldron gradually used by yin, gradually joining metal and water, about to generate the maiden—then gathering true essence, letting yin and yang change as they will. Corresponds to sixth month, Wei hour—retreat yin tally.

Pi hexagram: three yin three yang—heaven and earth both rest; yin and yang do not interact; the myriad things do not sprout. Central palace gold mother expands and contracts naturally, stable and without affair. Corresponds to seventh month, Shen hour—retreat yin tally.

Guan hexagram: two yang four yin—yin qi already strong, like mid-autumn’s condition. Gold in the cauldron obtains yin qi, joins with water and changes to generate, becoming the maiden—that is, mercury. Though yin is usable, remnant yang remains in the cauldron; conversely in mid-autumn shepherd’s purse revives—hence old withered flourishes anew. “Bold growth” is sprouting everywhere. It likens metal and water in mid-autumn receiving yin tally, nourishing spirit mercury, filling the embryo. Eighth month with second month yin-yang punishment and virtue mutually bearing was already noted under Da Zhuang above. Corresponds to eighth month, You hour—rest tally.

The Yi says: Bo is stripping. One yang five yin—yin strong yang weak, yielding invades firm to the end; metal and water both rest, limbs melt away—merit returns to earth virtue. Corresponds to ninth month, Xu hour—retreat yin tally. The line “lost to the spirit”—old commentary wrongly explained it as the Kun hexagram; it is not recorded here.

When the Dao reaches its end it returns. Qian begins from Kun: among six yielding lines below the nine earths one firm line changes—called one yang born; yang begins from here until six changes make pure yang and Qian body is complete. Pure yang qi full, yang at pole again generates yin; again on Qian’s six firm lines below one yielding line changes—called one yin born—until six changes make pure yin, returning to Kun body. Hence when the Dao is exhausted it returns, returning to Kun origin. Kun is earth mother, yin; Qian is heaven father, yang. Yin obtains yang to live; yang obtains yin to complete. One yin one yang is called the Dao; bending to complete the myriad things without omission—hence eternally following earth’s patterns, receiving heaven’s spreading. It likens one year’s twelve months, one day’s twelve double-hours, turning yin-yang advance-and-retreat fire, matching Qian-Kun Kan-Li essence, cycling without end, wondrous use inexhaustible—so that sacred maiden and spirit boy in the spirit chamber join yin and yang, flying dragon and crouching tiger in the mother’s embryo meet hun and po, change without fixed form, transforming and generating pure substance.

Though heaven and earth are remote, sun and moon by their degrees exchange qi yet are linked, gestating the myriad things, becoming ancestors of yin and yang. Yin and yang in heaven and earth’s vast emptiness and indistinctness join essence—no one knows where they emerge or hide. It likens the cauldron taking Qian-Kun parents as image, Kan-Li male and female as the axis of turning; within the cauldron in vast indistinctness no one sees traces of change. Metal is the medicine’s sovereign. At first within the cauldron dusk yellow undivided, track lost; then yin and yang are split and judged; finally the central lord and the five phases mutually employ. Going out must have return; Pi and Tai mutually aid; yin and yang depend on one another. From Fu hexagram beginning to Kun hexagram ending; from new moon beginning to dark moon stopping. Enter tally, exit fire; increase water, settle metal; move fire, stop water—the principle like circulation. Nourishing metal and water within the inner image is also like the human ruler governing. If addition and subtraction of four-season tally fire miss no season, dragon and tiger can endure for a thousand autumns.

“Governance’s head”—the firing operator’s opening sequence. Once metal is cast into the cauldron vessel, the vessel renewed and old stains removed (the original text here has lacunae), one must seal and fix it, making it tight. “Open and spread, deploy treasure”—inner metal qi comfortable, fluid juice generating, metal and water depending on each other. Again follow the dipper handle through the twelve double-hours, ascending smoothly among the four-seven twenty-eight lodges. If latitude and hou are uneven and tally nodes do not respond, auspice and misfortune arise in the line images, tally fire errs in dawn and dusk. Outer five stars disordered, inner five phases then not harmonious; twenty-eight lodges perverse, circuit heaven’s lodges deviate—the inner cannot generate. Outer fire though moving, if inner tally is idle and does not respond, heaven hun and earth po do not meet—then stars disorder, sun and moon miss, four seasons fail to tune, the myriad things do not live. This is truly because firing in summer and autumn lost rhythm, making flood and drought abnormal within the cauldron.

Wenchang’s registry: Above the dipper’s head, six stars like a basket are Wenchang palace—first Grand General, second Vice General, third Noble Minister, fourth Director of Fate, fifth Director of Salary, sixth Director of Disaster. Taifu: below the dipper six stars in pairs are called the Three Terraces, governing the realm: upper assists the Son of Heaven, adjusting yin-yang and following four seasons; lower lets the myriad things each obtain their fit, ministers and grandees each take their office. This symbolizes the cauldron receiving heaven-and-earth myriad-things qi to generate change. Yin and yang opposed, four seasons missing measure—is like the firing operator’s adjustment having error—hence called reproach. The secret of golden fluid returned elixir always lies in the two words lead and fire. Once true lead is obtained, true fire is still hard to get—how can one discuss it lightly? So the Duke of Wei set forth many similes, still fearing later people would be confused.

The opening two lines of “trace origin, grasp end”—old explanations were wrong; not recorded here. The spirit chamber’s yin essence sits in the central palace, in earth virtue’s position, symbolizing the ruler. If within the cauldron it could respond yet outside one is not single-minded—it is because the ruler is arrogant and dissolute, tribute from the four directions does not enter, ministers are wicked and flatter, so moments have error, strings and full moons wane and wax, dark and new moon produce blame and harm—all fault returns to the lord. Lord is gold essence, earth virtue, spirit chamber. Therefore the maiden flees, red dragon runs off; once spirit essence is lost, where again to seek golden fluid? “Pole star receives correctness, leisurely yielding below”—spirit embryo in central palace, like ruler in bright hall, like Polaris. Yin-yang five-phases qi are ministers. If lord and ministers govern the interior well, like the north star rectifying heaven’s center, yin-yang five-phases qi harmonize—and golden fluid in the cauldron chamber naturally generates change.

Chen Zhixu said: This section focuses on yin, yang, jing (essence), and qi (vital energy)—the four together. What is meant by “Qian firm and Kun yielding” is explained in the Yizhuan (commentaries on the Zhouyi, also called the “Ten Wings”): Qian is the yang principle, Kun the yin. When yin and yang join in virtue, firmness and yielding take form, embodying heaven and earth and extending the virtue of spirit. Qian’s virtue is firm, centered, upright, pure jing; Kun’s is yielding, benefiting things, and holding the correct path—the way of the junzi (noble person). When Qian and Kun cooperate, that is the path of the Golden Elixir (the pre-heaven single qi perfected in internal alchemy). Qian-yang chiefly bestows and gives; Kun-yin specially contains and receives. Male and female rely on each other through jing and qi; for jing and qi to spread and deploy, male and female must match. The Yizhuan says, “Jing and qi become things; the wandering soul becomes change”: proceeding forward to produce people and the myriad things is “becoming things”; reversing the process to achieve buddhahood or immortality is “becoming change.”

“Kan and Li stand at the head of yin and yang”: Qian’s firm line enters Kun, hollowing Qian’s middle, and becomes Li; Kun’s yielding line receives Qian, filling Kun’s interior, and becomes Kan. Thus Kan and Li follow Qian and Kun, occupy the foremost yin-yang positions, and hold the correct places of firm and yielding. Within Li is solar light; within Kan, lunar light—radiance shining downward. The mystery is too deep to fully depict; only the sage can measure, assist, and narrate its root.

“The four in primordial chaos”: yin, yang, jing, and qi are wrapped in the cavity of emptiness; then the sixty hexagrams are deployed and spread like a carriage. Kun images as ox and cart; Qian as dragon and horse. When Qian and Kun unite in virtue, dragon and horse can draw the carriage; under a sage ruler who follows the seasons, the realm is at peace. The Golden Elixir liquid returning to elixir follows the same principle. The dragon is eastern wood and mercury; the horse is southern cinnabar and fire. Dragon and horse, with the western metal tiger added, generate the water of northern Xuanwu (symbol of northern water); then jing congeals, qi gathers, form appears, and the carriage can move.

“Harmonize and follow; the road is level and not crooked” describes a clear ruler governing: walking the great road without harassing the people, harmony responds at every turn. Stray slightly from the right path, or let the crafty hide the worthy and envy talent, and the state is in peril. In cultivation too, harmony comes first. When there is harmony, affairs answer the heart. The Yizhuan says: the auspiciousness of harmonious joy is advancing without doubt. Once things are harmonious, one must still rectify the mind, sincere the intent, and guard against lapse—then there is no peril, and the elixir work is not overturned or lost. A hair’s breadth of error—how can one not be cautious?

From “the junzi stays in his chamber” through “ bending and stretching in reversal,” this passage is precisely what must be guarded most finely at the very start of entering the chamber (formal seated elixir work)—and it shows how hard alchemy is. The sage deliberately compares this to the junzi. The Xici says: when the junzi speaks within his chamber, if the words are good, response comes from a thousand li away—how much more nearby? The Dao is originally beyond words, yet without language the Dao cannot be shown. “Wordless” means the virtuous must not speak carelessly—how much more those who walk the Dao and refine the elixir. The Immortal Lord (traditionally Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi) cites the prior sages and expands: the lord of ten thousand chariots dwells in the ninefold palace; commands must follow yin-yang seasons. Seeking the elixir must follow yin-yang seasons—that is when one yang returns; store the vessel and await the moment; do not violate the hexagram’s month. Gathering medicine waits until the moon appears and Zhen hexagram arises—the third-day new moon in the geng direction. Tun hexagram applies at zi and shen (water generating and flourishing); Meng at yin and xu (fire generating and storing). Each of the sixty hexagrams has its day; here only Tun and Meng are briefly named.

“Unable to investigate fully”: the Immortal Lord says he cannot write out every subtle point, because the arcane must be transmitted orally—so the classic says these are not ordinary worldly words. Upper sages who have become true persons, penetrating mystery and exhausting the fine, can fully grasp the meaning. Saying “not fully understood” also means: without the caliber of an upper sage in the world, how could one practice this path and become a true person?

Establishing principle and setting punishment prevent fraud; practicing benevolence and granting favor guide people’s hearts. Oppose it and there is misfortune; follow it and good fortune. By law and calendar, proclaim commands; application must be utterly sincere, action solitary and hidden. Carefully await day and hour—for a year only one month counts, a month only one day, a day only one double-hour, one double-hour only one talisman (fu). Examine the message: know the clarity and measure of water born from dui metal; the slightest error or irregularity brings penalty and harms the furnace. Such disorder skews yin and yang: winter and summer solstices shift from their norms, deep winter becomes scorching heat, midsummer brings hard frost; spring and autumn equinoxes cross wrongly, day and night clepsydra fail, rain and sun miss their seasons, and portents multiply. These calamities are metaphors: one slip at the furnace means a hundred errors, often because refining the self lacked effort, leading to deviation. Fools blame the elixir classics instead of themselves. Those with great root and a square, true mind repent and blame themselves, redouble sincerity, and do not slacken; one thought reaches heaven, immortals assist, and success comes at the critical moment—like a filial son’s sincerity moving heaven. The heart is the dwelling of spirit; when the heart is true, spirit comes of itself. Speech is the voice of the heart; when words are trustworthy, nature and feeling resonate. Words issue from one’s mouth, yet sound travels far. Failure brings disaster; success brings blessing. Deviation can even mean war; achievement brings personal peace. Success, failure, deviation, and completion all come from the human heart. In movement and stillness, do not act rashly; always follow rule and measure—then seasonal qi seek one another, firm and yielding harmonize, the Five Phases stand straight, and the great Yi path cycles in reversal without obstruction.

From “hidden and submerged” through “the work of wu and ji,” this treats the qi of the yin-yang path: hidden within the body, concealed in various forms, transforming to dwell in the center and embrace the myriad things, or vigorously executing generation and killing as the warp of the Dao. Without the two functions of Qian and Kun to command the subtle Dao, the Dao might cease.

“Using non-being to restrain being; the vessel belongs to emptiness”: what are non-being and being? When Taiji divides, there is pre-heaven and post-heaven. Pre-heaven is above form, called Dao—entering non-being from being; post-heaven is below form, called vessel—entering being from non-being. Laozi said: the nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth; the named is the mother of the myriad things. Hai Chanzi (Liu Haichan) said: from non-being into being is always thus; from being into non-being, who can measure? If one only pursues Kan-Li’s waxing and waning, post-heaven is all vessel, form, and dregs—with growth, decline, and extinction—not like pre-heaven’s enduring Dao that can ascend to sagehood. Confucius said: acting before heaven’s time, heaven does not oppose; acting after heaven’s time, one must follow heaven’s seasons. People only follow the post-heaven path, hence birth and death in endless rotation. Sages skillfully reverse the pre-heaven path—thus extending knowledge, investigating things, rectifying mind, cultivating self—they can endure without perishing. Counting the past is forward; knowing the future is reverse—so the Yi’s principle is reverse reckoning.

“Words not casually fabricated”: books of the hundred schools were written from talent—skill and clumsiness differ. This book is the ancestral book of the Dao; one must not add a sentence at will, lest later people be misled—that is, words are not made up. “Discourse not empty-born”: the Immortal Lord looks up to the three sages, takes yin-yang and sun-moon imagery, and writes according to the Cantong qi’s aim as ladder and raft for the world—that is, the treatise is not produced from nothing.

“Citing verification and effect”: formerly the Yellow Emperor ascended; Chao Fu and Xu You hid on high; Laozi transformed Hu into buddhahood; Huainan’s chickens and dogs became immortals—these cite cases to prove effect. “Weighing spirit and clarity”: as sun and moon join in one disk, new light appears in the geng direction; Confucius said spirit and clarity depend on the person. “Deriving hexagrams and composing characters”: e.g. the character dan (elixir) takes moon and water, symbolizing Kan; sun and moon compose the character yi (change). The thread of achieving the Dao lies in such glyph structure. “Taking principle as proof”: when yin reaches its limit yang is born, when yang reaches its limit yin is born; following yin-yang runs produces people and things; reversing yin-yang must complete the Golden Elixir—that is the root principle.

Kan and wu are the essence of the moon: the due-north position is Kan, with true earth within—yang earth; the Maid constellation governs hidden matters. Yang jing takes wu as gate; where the moon runs hides the hornless rabbit—white within, black without, yang within yin, female outside and male inside. Li and ji are the splendor of the sun: due south is Li, with true earth within—yin earth; the Willow constellation governs concealment. Yin light takes ji as door; where the sun runs hides the three-legged crow—black within, white without, yin within yang, female inside and male outside. Ancients composed yi from sun and moon; yi is yin-yang. Speaking only yin-yang does not show yi; say yi and yin-yang appear. Nothing sprouts without earth; sun and moon especially rely on earth to gestate. East passes Di earth, west Wei earth, south Willow earth; north gestation passes Maid earth. Sun and moon with earth, light endures; earth with sun and moon, virtue deepens. Earth respectively governs and cycles through the four seasons: spring growth and summer flourishing are earth’s merit; autumn gathering and winter storing its power. Each season has its dominant days; earth long guards the central palace, linking beginning to end to complete its work. Green, red, white, and black though in east, south, west, and north, all receive wu and ji earth, jointly achieving virtue and performing spirit-transformation. Here yin and yang occupy positions, each in its direction; whatever is used must borrow earth. This is not yet about gathering and binding dragon-tiger, lead-mercury, or gold-water. First yin-yang matching positions are listed; later “each occupies one direction”—the order of meaning is subtle.

From “between dark and new moon” through “ancestor of change,” one month’s dark, new, quarter, and full moons compare to hexagram images and talisman seasons in elixir work. A year has twelve cycles of dark, new, quarter, and full. Heaven’s great yin joins the sun twelve times; humanity’s lesser yin responds twelve times—thus hiding form and guarding the classic, the correct measure of yin-yang. Lesser yin is vast and immeasurable. The sage measures it, calmly abides in Taiji; when it matches the talisman season, the middle path can be practiced—hence “pre-heaven.”

Each time heaven’s great yin meets the sun, sun and moon talismans align: moon below sun, sun above moon; the moon receives the sun’s refined light, light toward heaven, invisible to people. Like male and female union—male above, female below, female covered by male and unseen. At dark and new, light not yet separated, comparable to humanity’s lesser yin. In Taiji chaos and pre-heaven primordiality, when the classic pauses and the talisman arrives, on the third day in geng direction hidden yang is about to arise. Yang is male, yin female; they follow and match; fluid moistens and naturally transforms, circulating through heaven and earth; spirit cannot be measured. The great Dao, unless one has sage caliber, cannot run. The Yizhuan says: unite in virtue with heaven and earth, in brightness with sun and moon, in order with the four seasons, in fortune and misfortune with ghosts and spirits. This Golden Elixir mystery—heaven and earth cannot measure it, spirits cannot guess it. For the Golden Elixir is pre-heaven qi: the sage unites with heaven and earth in virtue, reverses creation to generate this qi; with sun and moon in brightness, inverts effort to preserve this qi; skillfully with the four seasons in order to employ this qi—cold and heat cannot bind him; secretly with ghosts and spirits in fortune and misfortune to complete this qi—then spirits show their aspect. So heaven, earth, and spirits are immeasurable; only the sage can.

“Use it to settle the body, hide form and store away” speaks of the Kun path. Kun’s function: the Kun palace has earth, restraining Kan water from above. What benefits the myriad things without contending is water’s function. The sage reverses it to obtain water’s benefit. In the Yi, “Use six: favorable to perpetual correctness” is Kun’s virtue. It begins in the northeast, home of Ji and Dou (two constellations). Each month at new moon, moon and sun meet in Ji-Dou country. Ji-Dou belong to Gen; Gen is yin eroding yang, called the ghost path. The moon here loses light—“loss of companions,” like people following the Five Phases through birth, aging, sickness, death, and cold-heat metabolism. Heaven’s Dao runs left; sun, moon, and stars seem to turn right. The moon here must darken; meeting the sun, like a disk or a gui. After one or two days, turning right to geng, refined light slightly emerges—the po (lunar soul) is born. At Bi and Mao, the moon borrows sunlight, light spilling downward, like Qian yang first born under Kun, image of Zhen. On the third evening, one yang two yin—Qian’s eldest son attains the time and walks the path—“three days, Zhen moves.” Eighth day first quarter, one yin two yang—Kun’s young girl Dui receives ding fire, acting for Kun; yin-yang peaceful, spirit then arises—“eighth day, Dui moves.” Third-fifth-fifteenth is full moon—all yang radiance—“fifteenth, virtue accomplished, Qian body formed.” These hexagram talismans compare to gold-water already obtained in the cauldron: great yin reflects sunlight to produce jing and po; the body images the moon to produce Golden Elixir. With elixir in the cauldron, be like evening vigil against danger—full must guard overflow, abundant must fear decline. Only the sage can be cautious from start to finish.

Then Xun inherits the thread, firmly assists and holds, slowly runs the yin talisman, wrapping yang qi. Gen governs advance and stop. When talismans are full, last quarter gradually congeals. Heaven’s position adds celebration; lead and mercury are added (neidan terms for yin-yang substances); lead exhausted, mercury dry, at six-five Kun receives, summing beginning and end, lead and mercury both transformed, Golden Elixir complete. Though one month metaphorically covers practice, effort often needs ten months to approximate form; full merit is three years, lofty merit one cycle (twelve years)—all depending on accumulated cultivation. Great sages remaking yin-yang, probing feeling to match nature, turning and mutual giving, setting another furnace to refine the nine-vessel great elixir, is also like rebuilding the armillary at zi position. Twelve lines cycle in one month: from dark to new, new moon comes, first yang again stirs in Fu hexagram. Hence no fixed position—this is the Yi’s ancestor.

From “new morning as Fu” through “enduring a thousand years”: above used one month’s dark, new, quarter, and full to metaphor gathering and refining completion; this section uses twelve months of the year for effort. First obtaining elixir compares to Fu—one yang crouching under five yin. Sages on this path transcend to sagehood; wicked people on this path lose life and body. King Wen said: companions come without blame; repeat its path; seven days return; favorable to have somewhere to go. Companions come—friends from afar; without blame—benefit without harm; repeat its path—apply the Yi’s principle in reverse; seven days return—moon hides light, after seven days emits again, like person after seven days stirring and yang first born; favorable to go—skillfully advance without fault. Dongjing fu says sun and moon meet at Dragon Tail (Tail constellation)—yang about to return. Confucius said: in Fu hexagram, is this not seeing the heart of heaven and earth? People do not know the heart of heaven and earth. Laozi called this heart the gate of the mysterious female; Zhongli Yunfang pointed to it as life-gate and death-door. The Yi says: thunder in earth is Fu. Former kings on winter solstice closed passes; merchants did not travel, rulers did not tour the four quarters. Thunder is firm yang; earth is yielding yin. Placing firm yang in yielding yin restores pre-heaven qi. Former kings on this day practiced this path—closed passes, did not view the four quarters, to concentrate mind. Merchants mean miscellaneous affairs; not traveling means cutting off distractions to single-mindedly walk the path. Hence the Xiangzhuan: not going far yet returning—to cultivate self; also: alone in the middle path returning—to follow the Dao.

“New morning as Fu, yang qi first penetrates”—because the sage’s heart is single. Fu is first concealed then able to return. Yang’s beginning qi enters and exits connected without harm. “Setting the gnomon, slight firmness”—Qian moves straight. The Yellow Bell pitch pipe corresponds to yang month zi establishment. “Zhao” is the multitude, the beginning; all things born begin from this yang growing clear, spreading gentle warmth. The people obtain the constant Dao—all receive the returning one-yang gentle warmth and return to the constant path. The elixir’s subtlety hinges here—never treat lightly.

Those learning the Dao, having received the master’s oral formula, must still understand three passes and three waits. Prepare the altar first, gather medicine first; medicine obtained, entry and exit connected, refine self—gentle warmth spreading, protection and nurturing penetrating straight through—first pass, first wait. Steer the furnace, apply order, guide intent, open the path—not overstepping or wild; separate radiance, harmonize light—the lower the position the better; Great Clarity pitch at chou month, shadow gradually lengthens—middle pass, second wait. Grand Cluster pitch arrives, look up and Tai forms. Tai is earth above, heaven below: yin above, water moistens downward; yang below, fire shines upward. Hence Xian hexagram’s commentary: yielding above, firm below, two qi sense and give to each other; stopping yet joyful, male below female above—hence penetrating and favorable to correctness. Five Phases inverted, earth’s seven treasures: yielding first deploys as host; firm deploys after as guest. Male at first small going, female then great coming; metal qi mutually needs, yang completes Qian’s whole body. This is firm and yielding flourishing together, yin and yang joining—third pass, third wait.

Gradually passing through Da Zhuang, congealing returned elixir, bracketed at mao gate, like elm pods returning to root. Punishment and virtue mutually bear, day and night begin equal division. This means the elixir’s sign falls in Huangting (middle body, where neidan often places and nurtures)—add nurturing, be cautious and single-minded. Guai hexagram is yin severed and parted. Yang has returned, Golden Elixir gestates; Qian vigorous and bright, metal qi pure, yang ends at si. Then run yin talisman, Gou hexagram receives, suddenly wraps, yang not lost. Yang again gets yin; yin becomes host. Kun’s change: first six treads frost, like cold spring at well bottom—yin qi descends. Sixth month is Dun, gathering essence awaiting the moment. Pi at seventh month, yin-yang not penetrating, yin extends yang bends, yang bright within. Eighth month Guan’s qi—measure and observe autumn, freely nurture hidden small, like wheat sprouting, withered flourishing again like shepherd’s purse budding. Qi transformed exhausted, Bo strips form; path exhausted then return, to Kun origin. Coming and going forever follow heaven.

This book’s composition has method: sometimes a lead first, sometimes a tail that gathers. Without lead, the tail closes; without tail, the lead opens. This section has no lead, summarized in the tail. It opens: new morning is Fu, then Lin, Tai, Da Zhuang, Guai, Qian, Gou, Dun, Pi, Guan, Bo, to Kun. The end resolves to “dark, remote, vast, blocked yet connected.” These two lines are simplest. “Dark, remote, vast”—yin and yang substances are extremely secret and deep, untouchable; extremely far and vast, beyond thought—yet their creative power doubles heaven and earth. “Blocked yet connected”—the two substances are apart; one move and they are ten thousand li apart; with Yellow Woman (mediating earth, neidan’s true intent) as go-between, extreme distance becomes extreme nearness. Thus the two respond by number, gestate seed, become yin-yang’s root origin. Sages employ them to walk the path. Vast, indistinct, not enough to grasp, not yet measurable—the sage investigates to reverse use.

“First lose the track, later become lord and ruler”—yielding, benefiting things, holding correctness, the junzi’s path: first lose the way, later follow and obtain the constant path. This is from the Ten Wings; the Immortal Lord cites and elaborates. Midway yin is host; at the end becoming lord and ruler— all Kun’s benefit, earth’s principle. “No level without slope”—nature of the Dao. When water is most level, it accumulates into deep pools and banks; banks do not flow; banks filling low places, water naturally overflows. Using water to metaphor the Dao is natural principle. Change alternates flourishing, as from Fu to Qian; waxing and waning mutually cause, as from Gou to Kun. Hence end in Kun return to beginning, like following linked rings. “Emperor and king receive and drive, enduring a thousand years”: if emperor and king receive and drive Qian-Kun’s forward and reverse path, living a thousand years is not much; if merit is lofty and deeds manifest, ascending in broad daylight is within reason.

From “head of governing” through “the state without harm to the Dao”: the Immortal Lord uses the difficulty of refining elixir to metaphor governing, thus knowing rebellious people are hard to govern; in elixir work, intent is as hard to tether as a horse. Old custom’s pollution all renewed—start of governing, called “renewing the cauldron.” Restraining anger, blocking desire, meeting good and yielding—root of self-cultivation, called “reforming the old.” Whether governing or cultivating self, start from one’s most hidden, finest place—first restrain, gather, and thoroughly rectify—then affairs succeed and cherishing self cultivates body and mind. Confucius said: governing with virtue is like the North Star staying in its place while stars wheel around it. Virtue is not only for governing—it is the root of all conduct; can elixir cultivators lack virtue? What is virtue? Benevolence, love, clarity, sincerity—upper virtue; respect, breadth, trust, diligence, kindness—the door of entering the Dao. To refine elixir, first emphasize kindness and diligence. Kindness suffices to employ others. The Immortal Lord then says “open and spread treasure”: outward gain people’s hearts, inward treasure one’s true qi—this is the handle of the essential Dao. Able to repeatedly bestow treasure can command and transform its warp. The warp is the body holding law; skillfully commanding and guiding, those who enforce law are not tormented by law. Hexagram images stir within, fortune and misfortune respond without—also like the five luminaries (five planets) sometimes errant sometimes orderly, fortune and misfortune moving by season—same meaning. Chi is change; li is migration. If the twenty-eight lodges deviate and shift, all have bowing and raising.

Wenchang is chief star of Taiwei—the six stars of the basket in Kui, titled South Pole, commanding all stars; in the body, the Vermilion Bird spirit, recording names in the register of long life. Xujing star is thread of Santai; the commanding star is Santai’s leader—in the body, master of the Bright Hall, opening virtue to teach the world. Dongyinguang star is assistant to Ziwei—the two Respect stars—in the body, Black Tortoise spirit; one who sees it may live a thousand years. The rest—hundred nodes, myriad spirits—each govern their part. Refining elixir tightly relates to creation—hence harder than governing the state.

Tracing the beginning enables long endurance; grasping the end avoids perishing. Ruler is heart, minister is body; heart is self, body is things. If my heart is proud and excessive, or full to overflowing, or body and things contend and miss the track, quarter and full deviate, waxing and waning bring misfortune—law enforcers ridicule and blame the fault on the lord. Chenji is the earlier Wenchang star, also said South Pole. Chenji holds the correct path, calmly trusting those below. Bright Hall is terrace assistant, diligently spreading good policy so the state has no deviation. State is also body. Body at peace, qi harmonized—then the Dao is not harmed. This section metaphors person cultivating body and elixir like ruler governing and spreading policy: governing with fit people and policy, the realm is calm; cultivating self with full heart and established fate, elixir path completes.

Yu Yan said: Human breathing is precisely the image of firm and yielding rubbing together, of Qian and Kun opening and closing. Qian is Heaven and Yang; Kun is Earth and Yin. In refining the elixir, one lets Qian-Yang descend to meet Kun-Yin; breath mutually contains and hides, firm and yielding pair like husband and wife, merge into one whole, Shen and Qi return to the root, Xing and Ming unite as one, and the supreme medicine is produced.

“What is received and must mutually depend” speaks of union. Heaven and Earth, through Yin-Yang union, give birth to the ten thousand things; the elixir method, through Yin-Yang union, gives birth to the medicine. The transformations of the human body correspond to those of Heaven and Earth—there is no accomplishing transformation without union. If a person empties the heart and concentrates Shen, operating in unison with the pivot of Heaven and Earth, then creation and transformation lie in one’s own hands.

Kan and Li are the moon and sun. Sun and moon shine over Heaven and Earth; spiral shells and clams absorb their light and can produce pearls; stubborn stones accumulate it and can turn to jade. The human body has its own sun and moon—how could it not turn the light back inward and form a true pearl or bring forth true jade? Only this matter is still, vast, and empty, beyond measure, and cannot be drawn; one can only know it in the heart and guard it with intention. Hence the sages set forth many analogies to lay out the foundations of the Golden Elixir, and Cantong Qi therefore takes the Yi as its model in composition.

Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li merge into one; Shen and Qi return to the root—deep, hidden, subtle, beyond knowing why. With Qian and Kun as cauldron and vessel, Kan and Li as medicinals, the remaining sixty hexagrams from Zhun through Jiji and Weiji ring around outside the cauldron as the “weekly fire phases” (the rhythm of refinement arranged according to the circuit of Heaven)—all sixty hexagrams serve one’s purpose, and the dragon and horse are driven at one’s command.

The body is like a state; the heart is like the sovereign. When the heart is settled, Shen condenses and Qi harmonizes; the three palaces (upper, middle, and lower centers in the body) naturally rise and fall, and the hundred vessels naturally flow. In refining the elixir there is no other path: only empty the heart and keep silent, concentrate Shen into the Qi cavity (where breath gathers), follow its coming and going in an unbroken thread. In time Shen naturally condenses and breath naturally stills; when breath is still, Qi gathers; when Qi gathers, the elixir forms. There is no need for massage, guiding exercises, breath techniques, or visualization—those are side paths.

From “The noble person dwells in his chamber” through “Kan and Li vanish”—the ruler securely abides in the ninefold inner palace; when he speaks well, the response reaches a thousand leagues beyond. The cultivator holds in the light and silently turns it inward; emptiness to the utmost, stillness to sincerity—then the Qi of Heaven and Earth naturally comes to attach; this stimulus and that response are the principle of nature. The ancient sage-kings in early spring appointed ministers to spread virtue and harmonious orders; in early autumn appointed generals to select warriors and sharpen weapons—also responding to the season, following Heaven and Earth’s Yin and Yang. In refining the elixir one must first know the time, and even more await the time; before the time arrives, only hold the light in silence and wait in emptiness and stillness—do not get ahead.

Zi, Shen, Yin, Xu and Zi, Wu, Mao, You are all allegory. Look at the sixty hexagrams: they begin with Zhun and end with Jiji and Weiji; Yin and Yang lines interweave, each unlike the next, yet inverse and paired hexagrams mutually match—in truth the principle of every hexagram is one. The student who sees clearly the two images of Zhun may extend by analogy and silently grasp the rest.

The west belongs to yi (righteousness/restraint); the east belongs to ren (benevolence/generation). Punishment governs killing, subduing, and restraint, used to smelt the lead of the west; virtue governs birth, arousal, and initiation, used to cook the mercury of the east. Lead and mercury are the two medicinals in elixir classics: lead belongs to metal, nature extremely firm, stored in Kan—without fierce cooking and intense firing it cannot rise; hence martial fire is applied to drive it—one must not use gentle fire. Mercury belongs to wood, nature extremely soft, stored in Li—once it meets true lead it naturally does not stir; hence gentle fire refines and nurtures it—one must not apply martial fire. The two modes: following them is auspicious; going against them is inauspicious.

In drawing, adding, and applying, one must guard against danger—one must not miss by a hair. Follow nature and it is auspicious; force against it and it is inauspicious. Hence one must follow calendar and rule, know the oral formulas for starting work, with utmost sincerity and singleness of mind, tightly without stray thought. Heaven and Earth’s fullness and emptiness wax and wane with the times; the human body models Heaven and images Earth—the blood and Qi’s fullness and emptiness share the same path as Heaven and Earth. The elixir method takes Heaven as cauldron and Earth as furnace, the moon as the function of the medicine—gathering must follow the moon’s wax and wane; the sun as the marker of fire—movement and stillness must regard the sun’s rising and setting. Drawing, adding, bathing, and union each take Heaven and Earth as model—hence it is called the utmost Way. Seeking another method is side-door petty art and private guesswork.

So-called fire is not fire of visualization but the body’s innate true fire; so-called phases are not clock-time phases but the body’s innate climate. Fire flourishes when it meets Xun-wind and hides when it meets Kun-earth. In use one must neither exceed nor fall short—all lies in harmonizing martial and gentle fire and discerning cold and warm, making them balanced; then neither large nor small is harmed, both sides are preserved, and in an instant the elixir’s first sign appears. Adjusting and applying means precisely this. If a hair’s breadth errs, the solstices shift their degrees north and south, the equinoxes miss east and west—deep winter becomes great heat, midsummer turns to sleet; lead and mercury fly away and every anomaly appears at once.

The human body takes Qian and Kun as father and mother; the six “sons” travel up and down among them, all obeying the parents—hence they are called filial sons. The “August Ultimate” is the central upright position to which the eight directions return. If the filial sons can move it with the heart, then the tiger roars once and the dragon leaves the cave; the luan flies and the phoenix dances into the golden city. If conduct is chaotic and misses the central pole, the mysterious pearl scatters and the numinous mercury flees—the six sons are not filial sons but rebels against the elixir Way.

With medicine and then applying fire phases—metal, pressed by fire, rushes to the Li palace and turns to water, which in turn overcomes fire, so fire has no calamity of flaring upward. Without medicine yet applying fire—empty Yang attacks upward and exactly burns the body itself. Inviting disaster and attaining blessing part here. True Yang is born in the Kan palace; the heavy and turbid do not rise. To capture and control the true mercury in the Li palace, one must use martial fire, fierce cooking and intense firing, before it can soar upward. After reaching the Li palace and union with true mercury, one should guard the citadel and bathe—no more fire may be added. This is the great difference between peace and revolution. Whence do these four come? Only by turning the search inward to the heart.

Still and unmoving, returning to the root and restoring stillness—that is the time of Kun; I wait with stillness. Stillness to the limit then movement—Yang Qi secretly sprouts—that is the time of Fu; I respond with movement. This is the constant method. Otherwise, working at dawn and stopping at dusk is not single-minded devotion; when movement is needed yet mixed with stillness, when stillness is needed yet interrupted by movement—or first helping growth, or afterward forgetting—then movement is only the movement of circulating Qi, stillness only the stillness of dhyana; that cannot count as following the decree and keeping to the plumb line.

When applying effort, the four seasons must be well adjusted, each suited to its place—warm, cool, cold, and heat each in its due. Firm and yielding are fixed, not mixed: when Yang-firm holds sway, intention stays below and must not reach above; when Yin-yielding holds sway, intention stays above and must not reach below.

Wang Liangqi’s Tiantong Jing Song says: Metal, wood, the center, water, and fire—the five guard one Dantian. Scattered, they become Qi throughout the body; gathered, they become treasure in the Dantian. Sit upright and guard the Dantian without arbitrary excess or deficiency, and they blend and melt into one Qi, condensing into golden fluid. Fullness is excess; shrinkage is deficiency—excess injures things, deficiency cannot give birth; one should only “exist faintly as if present,” guarding with intention. Guard long enough and when the time comes Qi transforms; when the jar is full it must overflow—and numinous clarity comes of itself.

The Yi is sun and moon. Sun and moon move on the Yellow Track, coming and going day and night in endless cycle. In the body the head is Qian and the belly Kun, like Heaven and Earth; the two Qi rise and fall like sun and moon. To emulate sun and moon and share achievement with Heaven and Earth, the key is opening the Ren and Du channels. These two channels are the sea of Yin and Yang for the whole body and the hub of the five Qi’s true origin. The Ren channel starts below Zhongji, passes the hairline, ascends inside the abdomen through Guanyuan to the throat—the sea of Yin channels. The Du channel starts at the lower pole’s transport point, ascends inside the spine to Fengfu, enters the brain and the crown, follows the forehead to the nasal bridge—the sea of Yang channels. It is called Ren because in women obtaining it enables gestation; Du because it supervises the sea of channels. Open these two and the hundred channels all open; circulation through the body without blockage— the way of long life and lasting vision lies here.

“Deeply hidden, submerged”—Shen enters Qi, Qi enters the navel center, sinking to return to the sea bottom. “Transforming within”—when the time comes Qi transforms of itself, stillness to the limit and the mechanism stirs of itself, bringing out the sun that was held within. The mother of the Golden Elixir is only the pre-heaven single Qi. Split into two, divided into three, scattered into ten thousand—all come from this one Qi; hence it is said to enfold the ten thousand things and be the guiding cord of the Dao.

The Daodejing says: Thirty spokes share one hub—because of the emptiness at the center, the cart is useful; knead clay into a vessel—because of the emptiness inside, the vessel is useful; open doors and windows for a room—because of the emptiness inside, the room is useful. All three illustrate the work of emptiness—hence “being is the benefit, non-being is the use.” Cart, vessel, and room are the benefit of solid form; what makes cart, vessel, and room useful is the emptiness in the middle. Wei Boyang said “use non-being to control being—the user of the vessel is the empty space,” using Laozi’s teaching. The elixir method takes the Great Void as cauldron and furnace; within the Great Void is innate natural subtle function. Master Guan said: Shake cloth in empty space and you get wind; blow breath on things and you get fire. Chen Baoyi annotates: Know that shaking the empty gives wind, and stirring one’s own tuoyue (the bellows-like mechanism of breath) can generate Qi; know that blowing on things gives water, and nurturing one’s own Qi can transform Jing. If one does not understand this principle yet seeks cauldron and vessel elsewhere, that is not the Way of emptiness.

Breath is the marker of advancing fire; Kun, through three transformations, becomes Qian. Dissolution is the marker of withdrawing talismans; Qian, through three transformations, becomes Kun. After the new moon Zhen holds sway, passing through Dui to Qian; after the full moon Xun holds sway, passing through Gen to Kun—in between one does not see Kan and Li in their line positions. Have Kan and Li vanished? No. Kan and Li move among the six voids, coming and going without fixed place.

From “Words not rashly fabricated” through “the work of Wu and Ji”: Wei Boyang says he wrote this book to reveal the secret of this Way, unwilling to fabricate groundless talk to mislead later people—all citations are from verified effects and personal attainment. Still fearing that might not suffice for trust, he examined sun, moon, and numinous clarity as law and traced Yi hexagram principle as proof—one may call this earnest on behalf of others.

Kan outward Yin inward Yang is the image of the moon; Li outward Yang inward Yin is the image of the sun. Kan receives Wu; Wu is Yang earth. Li receives Ji; Ji is Yin earth. The two earths unite, Yin and Yang mutually aid, firm and yielding match—as when the characters for “sun” and “moon” compose the character for Yi.

Blue, red, white, and black are wood, fire, metal, and water, each in its direction; only earth is central, waxing strong at Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei, and running through the whole year. Wood waxes with earth, fire rests with earth, metal is born with earth, water stops with earth—the four all owe their work to earth. This earth fills the cosmos, with no fixed place: in Kan it is Wu-earth, in Li it is Ji-earth, in the central palace Wu and Ji earth, in the four seasons Chen-Xu-Chou-Wei earth—all one substance. Without true earth to harmonize, Yin and Yang are cut off, firm and yielding separate, and the elixir cannot form. Wuzhen Pian says the four images and Five Phases all borrow earth—a most penetrating point.

From between dark and new moon through circulation of transformation: In thirty days, before midnight is the interval of dark and new moon. In the elixir method hours stand for days; each day at the meeting of Hai and Zi is this time. In the body Yin and Yang meet at this time. Refining the elixir then, inner truth and outer response match like tally halves—not early, not late, exactly centered—the most subtle time of Heaven, Earth, and human. Undivided single Qi is chaos; Yin and Yang mixed is mutual following. In elixir terms, that is still and unmoving, Shen condensed and Qi gathered, not knowing there are people in the world or that one has a body, not knowing Heaven as canopy and Earth as carriage, united with the Dao, all cares dispelled. Shortly the three palaces’ Qi is full, the mechanism stirs—a sword cleaves chaos, two hands split the primordial mist: this is called producing being from non-being. Immortal cultivation is only gathering pre-heaven single Qi as mother of the Golden Elixir. Gathering is gathering without gathering, taking is taking without taking—all obtained in stillness and fixation; not one thread of thought may be added.

Before the Great Ultimate is judged, before Yin and Yang are divided—that is Heaven and Earth’s pre-heaven. In elixir terms, that is still and unmoving, returning to the root and restoring stillness. Then heart and Heaven communicate; creation and transformation can be seized. Cuixu Pian says: Do not seek creation and transformation in the kidneys—must seek pre-heaven in the heart. Once the Yellow Emperor lost the mysterious pearl; he sent Zhi, Liju, and Chigou to seek it without success, then sent Xiangwang, who obtained it. Xiangwang is forgetting form. One must forget form before one can obtain pre-heaven single Qi. Huanjin Pian says: Where ghosts and spirits do not see, dragon and tiger are sure to seek each other—a deeply clear statement.

When the time comes, Qi transforms, Yin and Yang interact—that is the body’s Heaven and Earth entwined, male and female coupling essence. Suddenly the fire wheel scorches the earth’s channels; abruptly the numinous spring gushes from the mountain’s brow—Heaven and Earth are moistened and greatly enriched. Without personally arriving, how could one know such a true scene?

Heaven, Earth, and numinous clarity cannot be measured. Yin and Yang meet and the spirit-killers hide—that is the time of Heaven and Earth’ numinous power; dragon and tiger meet and ghosts and spirits do not know—that is my body’s numinous time. Uniting my body’s numinality with Heaven and Earth’s, inner truth and outer response—the Xun gate opens in fixation, both sides rise together and merge into one. If that could be obtained by visualization, calculation, and measure, it would not be called numinous.

From “Make use of it and settle the body” through “battle virtue in the field”: The elixir method uses hours for months. At midnight Kun and Fu hand off; sit cross-legged upright, unmoving as rock, mouth closed, breath on the tongue like a winter snake in hibernation. This is making use to settle the body, hiding form and concealing. Then hold the light in silence, turn it inward; breath thread after thread returns to the root of life (the fundamental seat of life). In time one only feels deep and remote, as facing a ten-thousand-foot abyss. This is Shen and Qi returning to the root, body and mind restoring mandate, golden fluid condensing—the fire phases of elixir refinement no different from the moon’s waning and waxing.

On the third day the moon first brightens, rising from the northeast toward Ji and Dou, turning right; at evening above Xi and Bi in the southwest it spits out the light wheel—image like Zhen; in Qian hexagram terms, matching the first nine—likened to Yang fire first rising in the body. Eighth day first quarter, half bright, image like Dui, nine in the second—Yang fire half applied. Fifteenth facing the sun, soul full and light complete, image like Qian, nine in the third—Yang fire complete. Sixteenth after full moon the soul first wanes, image like Xun, nine in the fourth—Yin talisman begins to continue. Twenty-third last quarter, half dim, image like Gen, nine in the fifth—Yin talisman half applied. Thirtieth light exhausted, image like Kun, top nine—Yin talisman gathered and closed. Wei Boyang uses six hexagrams to figure fire phases, paired with Qian’s six lines, because the elixir is purely Yang treasure and Qian is purely Yang hexagram. In it Qian’s nine in the third has the sense of vigil at dusk and the spirit talisman’s fracture; Kun’s top nine has the sense of the overreaching dragon battling in the field. In Qian, guard the citadel with gentle mode; in Kun, field battle with martial mode—both must guard against danger.

From “Use the nine, fluttering” through “ancestor of the Changes”: Nine is the end of Yang numbering. The elixir method follows Qian and returns to pure Yang; “use the nine” also figures the nine turns in fire phases. One line passes, another comes—dare not miss by a hair; when the compass is finished, start again from the head. Metal’s disposition and wood’s nature were originally one thing split in two, east and west apart. If one obtains the Dipper-handle’s pivot to turn, wood’s nature loves metal, metal’s feeling yearns for wood; following Kan and Li’s rise and fall, metal and wood naturally no longer stand apart. Immortal returning elixir is the Yi within the body; nine-turn fire phases is Qian within the body.

The Way of Qian circulates through the whole body—no line-traces to view, no image-numbers to seek. Meet it and see no head; follow it and see no tail—how could there be direction or form to inspect? Only hidden in Heaven it is Heaven, hidden in Earth it is Earth—like the six lines, nothing but change. These six lines are Qian’s six lines. Extend from this and the sixty hexagrams all take this as ancestor. “Gradually passing through Da” means this course must still be experienced step by step forward.

This passage follows the sequence of hexagram qi, aligning hexagram images, musical pitch standards, the hours of the day, the dates of the month, and the months of the year with the circulation of yang fire and yin talisman within the body.

Dazhuang is the hexagram of four yang lines; its pitch is Jiazhong (one of the twelve ancient pitch standards). In the day it corresponds to mao, the hour of sunrise (roughly 5–7 a.m.); in the month, from the latter half of the eighth through the eleventh; in the year, to the month of jian mao, the second lunar month. Here yin assists yang and all things gather and emerge. It figures the moment when yang fire within— the timing of rising yang—has reached exactly half: cold and warmth are evenly balanced, hence “punishment and virtue” are in mutual balance and day and night begin to divide equally. In spring all things should grow, yet elm seeds fall at this time because yin still lingers within yang.

Guai is the hexagram of five yang lines; its pitch is Guxi. In the day it is chen, the hour of eating (roughly 7–9 a.m.); in the month, from the eleventh through the latter half of the thirteenth; in the year, to jian chen, the third lunar month. Yang is now abundant and presses toward the horizon; within, yang fire ascends. Yin retreats while yang advances—also described as washing the wings and shaking off accumulated dust, like the great peng bird about to migrate to the celestial pool: it strikes the water and rises, and its momentum must be vigorous.

Qian is the hexagram of six yang lines; its pitch is Zhonglü. In the day it is si, the hour before midday (roughly 9–11 a.m.); in the month, from the latter half of the thirteenth through the fifteenth; in the year, to jian si, the fourth lunar month. Yang reaches its peak and pervades the realm; within, yang fire is complete and the elixir light appears. The spirit spring at the crown divides into four streams that pour down the mountain—like governing a state, nothing is left untouched—hence “ extending to the four neighbors.” It also says yang ends and clashes at the middle of si because the degrees of yang fire are exhausted; from here yin talisman—the phase of descending yin—takes charge.

Gou is the hexagram of one yin line; its pitch is Ruibin. In the day it is wu, midday; in the month, from the sixteenth through the latter half of the eighteenth; in the year, to jian wu, the fifth lunar month. Yin is newly born; within, this is where yin talisman begins. After the spirit elixir enters the mouth it turns back and enters the cold spring; one must follow the path and slowly return it to the dantian (the body’s locus of refinement)—not in haste—hence “treading frost is the earliest sign,” and the cold spring at the bottom of the well. It also says yielding to yin, with yin as host: one yin governs while the many yang are guests. “Guest” means reverence—guarding against danger and anticipating peril.

Dun is the hexagram of two yin lines; its pitch is Linzhong. In the day it is wei, when sunlight slants (roughly 1–3 p.m.); in the month, from the latter half of the eighteenth through the twenty-first; in the year, to jian wei, the sixth lunar month. Yin gradually lengthens; within, yin talisman leaves the wu position and gathers downward, like the worthy withdrawing to hide in rocky valleys—hence “embracing virtue and waiting, dwelling in obscurity.”

Pi is the hexagram of three yin lines; its pitch is Yize. In the day it is shen, the hour of the afternoon meal (roughly 3–5 p.m.); in the month, from the twenty-first through the latter half of the twenty-third; in the year, to jian shen, the seventh lunar month. Yang gradually wanes; within, yin talisman descends lower and lower, like the three yin’s severity when grass and trees turn yellow and drop—hence “yin extends and yang bends,” and name and body are injured.

Guan is the hexagram of four yin lines; its pitch is Nanlü. In the day it is you, sunset (roughly 5–7 p.m.); in the month, from the latter half of the twenty-third through the twenty-fifth; in the year, to jian you, the eighth lunar month. Yin completes yang’s work; all things shrink and ripen. Within, yin talisman is past halfway and sinks into the dantian, like trees gathering blossoms into fruit—hence “entrusting the nurturing of the subtle spark of life.” In autumn all things wither, yet shepherd’s purse and wheat sprout then, because yang dwells within yin.

Bo is the hexagram of five yin lines; its pitch is Wushe. In the day it is xu, dusk (roughly 7–9 p.m.); in the month, from the twenty-sixth through the latter half of the twenty-eighth; in the year, to jian xu, the ninth lunar month. Yang is extinguished; fruit on the branches rots and falls. Within, yin talisman is nearly spent and wondrous function cannot be exercised—hence “the breath of transformation is exhausted and utmost spirit is lost.”

Kun is the hexagram of six yin lines; its pitch is Yingzhong. In the day it is hai, when people settle for the night (roughly 9–11 p.m.); in the month, from the latter half of the twenty-eighth through month’s end; in the year, to jian hai, the tenth lunar month. Pure yin holds sway; all things return to root and recover mandate. Within, yin talisman reaches its end, then rests in stillness and returns to the root in quiet. Here yin and yang resonate as heaven and earth do: heavenly qi descends to earth, and everything born in earth comes from heavenly qi. What is called spirit returning to qi and the inner elixir naturally completing points to this place. Between hai and zi is the border of yin and yang: the six yin are exhausted and one yang is not yet born—silent and vast. At this time the immortal forms the elixir: lips closed, eyelids lowered, spirit light shining down into the Kan palace (the lower body where kidney water resides). At first it is dim and indistinct, like a cold pool holding the moon; then spirit and qi unite—though separated, they secretly connect, like a lodestone drawing iron. Forming the elixir is like the month of hai: though chiefly hidden storage, the year’s growth is gestated here. One should concentrate spirit and gather qi before night’s breath is spent, sit upright briefly; before long spirit and qi return to root, something arises from nothing, and gradually condenses into a point of golden essence. When body and mind recover mandate, spirit enters the vast emptiness and becomes one with the great void. After long stillness, the heart-flower appears; the three palaces fill with qi and one feels only trance and depth, not knowing why. A moment later, yin reaches its limit and yang is born; extreme stillness stirs into life, the gate opens, the void bursts, and a stretch of splendor breaks the silence—the handle of change returns to one’s hand. This chapter plainly states the source of producing the medicine and explains survival and extinction, being and non-being, host and guest, and before and after in full detail.

Level and slope, going and returning—these are the nature of Dao, so that one may endure for a thousand autumns. Elixir method likewise is stillness to the limit then movement, movement to the limit then stillness; movement and stillness are each other’s root and alike come from nature. The golden elixir is the Yi within the body: decline and flourishing succeed one another; what has no end yet does not change, and what changes yet does not block—hence “turning in prosperity, each relying on the other.” Yang begins at Fu; yin ends at Kun; head and tail join—hence “beginning and end form one ring.” Those who study Dao, diligent all day and keeping pace with the times, may last a thousand years in enduring presence.