《古文参同契集解》Vol. 3

The phrase "reversal of the Five Phases" means this: xing (punishment/killing) is yin qi wearing down yang qi; de (virtue/generation) is yang qi harmonizing with yin qi. In a xing configuration yin is abundant and yang is scarce; in a de configuration yin is scarce and yang is abundant.

Take, for example, four yang and two yin—the hexagram of the second month (Dazhuang). Then yang grows and yin retreats; yang is already in the majority yet some yin remains. When yang predominates, de should rule—but leftover yin still carries sha (killing). Hence in early spring all things sprout together, yet elm samaras fall instead. It is the same in human life: one has just reached prime years—the body is yang-heavy and yin-light, growing stronger day by day—yet desire flares; though yang is plentiful, it is all drained by yin. Even if some yang remains, it cannot govern; myriad illnesses invade; yang is on the verge of slipping away while the mind still clings to the realm of desire, desperately seeking yin. When the remaining yang meets yin, it is entirely dissipated—and sudden death follows. This is de turning back into xing.

A person of supreme wisdom, however, takes that remnant yang as a ladder and urgently practices the way of huandan (returning elixir—gathering spent yang back into an internal elixir). Long life can still be regained. This is guarding both xing and de together—yin and yang meeting in mutual joy.

When one reaches four yin and two yang, that is the eighth-month hexagram (Guan). Yang is consumed by yin; yin is abundant yet some yang remains. When yin predominates, xing should rule—but leftover yang still carries sheng (life). Hence in the third autumn all things are about to wither, yet shepherd's purse and wheat sprout instead. So too in human life: nearing sixty, the body is yin-heavy and yang-light, weakening month by month. If by luck some yang still remains and one can practice the golden elixir path so yang is restored, that is returning youth, long sight, longevity—xing turning back into de.

In the second month at the zi hour, the kui stars (the four stars of the Dipper's bowl) stand at mao, the gang star (the handle) at si—southeast, governing life, belonging to de. In the eighth month at the xu hour, gang occupies you, kui at hai—northwest, governing killing, belonging to xing. The scripture says: when gang points to chou, the star body is yet at wei; what it points to is auspicious, what it rests upon is inauspicious—and so for the other directions. This illustrates advance and retreat in alchemical work.

When zi turns south and wu turns north, that is the reversal of the Five Phases. Immortals and sages have said: when the Five Phases run in their usual forward order, that is the fire-pit of the dharma realm; when the Five Phases are reversed, that is the seven treasures of the great earth. Thus water and fire serve as each other's guiding thread, and jiji (completion—fire and water meeting, the work finished) becomes possible.

Yang is born from one and fulfilled in nine. When yang's count reaches nine it reaches the extreme; at the extreme it returns to one. This is the number "one-nine"—ending and beginning again. "Containing the primordial in xu and wei, sowing essence at zi"—these two lines are precisely where the wondrous power of the elixir path lies. Xu and wei are northern asterisms, the place where sun and moon join, where one yang is first born, and where the tengshe (serpent) coils. Thus the innate primordial qi that Taiyi (the supreme one) holds—its true essence is released when the zi hour arrives. This echoes the earlier meaning of "starting movement from zi and wu."

Ordinary people only hear that mao and you are muyu (bathing—hours in refining when one should not add fire); they do not understand the metaphor of xing and de. De with sheng is like obtaining the medicine within half a shichen; xing with sha is like losing it in an instant. Therefore, once one enters the chamber to work, one must guard against danger and anticipate peril—only then can one refine the elixir. The immortal master compares it thus: spring at its height—what does not live?—yet elm samaras die: within de one must guard against xing, within sheng against sha. Autumn's severity—what does not wither?—yet shepherd's purse and wheat are born: within xing there is de, within sha there is sheng.

This book explains line by line and item by item; the subtlety of its intent lies solely in seeking the pre-heaven qi.

"Meeting a master requires scrutiny" means: if you meet a teacher, first clarify the thread, distinguish orthodox from heterodox, and check against this Cantong qi: if he is truly an enlightened master, whatever you ask he knows without hesitation; if he is a blind guide, nine times out of ten he knows nothing and fabricates the bizarre every which way, leading people astray. Some say not speaking is the Dao; some only teach sitting meditation and contemplating emptiness. Ask about cinnabar and mercury, dragon and tiger, the barrier of metal and wood, the image of the three-day Zhen hexagram, or the reverse use of the pre-heaven—he does not know the elixir classics and has no reply. Foolish people in the world only hear that someone has sat in meditation for years or shut himself in retreat somewhere and at once declare he has the Dao. How would they know the story of Patriarch Ma being mocked by Nanyue—"grinding a tile cannot make a mirror"—or the principle that yin and yang mutually devour, that there is both life and killing?

There is a kind of vulgar person who memorizes scraps of predecessors' talk, prattles Zen and shows off in debate, runs through a horizontal exposition and calls it the school of nature, points at that and calls it the Dao, and uses it to fool the world—especially laughable. How would they understand Zen and xing (nature)? Xing is Qian's "use nine"—its movement is straight; if you grasp this, you hold the treasury of the true Dharma eye. Zen is Kun's "use six"—its movement is yielding; if you know this, you hold the wondrous heart of nirvana. Zen and xing united are like using earth to fix lead; metal meeting wood is like using lead to subdue mercury; ren and yi unfolded are like nourishing through straightness. Thus one yin and one yang are the way of the Yi; cultivating ding (stillness) in the ligong (heart-fire palace) is the root of Zen; seeking the profound in the shuifu (kidney-water palace) is the method of the elixir. Names divide into three teachings, but the Dao is one.

Look at the threads of cultivation in Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—all must be measured against the same standard before success is possible. What is spoken of here is using kui (measurement) to explain one another.

What is gauging things from end to beginning? It is weighing why person and thing come to be, why yin and yang run from start to finish, and the reasons for waxing and waning, fullness and emptiness. The Five Phases both generate and overcome; one flourishes, one declines; kalpa follows kalpa in succession—and become father and mother. The way of upper sages and perfected ones is nothing but yin and yang. What governs storing, nourishing, and the qi of moistening fluid is the holy mother formed by Kun and Dui in alternation; what governs receiving and the wonder of transforming and generating things is the spirit father formed by Qian and Zhen in alternation. Qi and fluid congeal into jing (essence), flow into form, knot into the elixir—hard as metal and stone, indestructible. Examine with care and be single-minded—then there is no leakage, and the Dao can be attained.

It is like raising a hundred-foot pole and seeing its shadow, or calling into a valley of a thousand cliffs and hearing the echo. Yin and yang naturally interact like shadow following form, like voice answering call—most responsive, matching the supreme emblem of heaven-and-earth creation.

Wild ge and croton are only insentient plants, yet they can poison a person to death; even a great sage like King Wen, sages like the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, a divine physician like Bian Que, a worthy master like Wu Xian—with divination by yarrow, acupuncture and prayer—that poison still cannot be cured. How much more when true yin and true yang qi, measured by the same standard, are matched as sentient beings to each other—how could they fail to form the spirit elixir?

Yu Yan said: Laozi’s line “concentrate the qi to achieve softness, like an infant” means to harbor the mysterious and hold fast to the true original. The firing of the nine cauldrons is the nine revolutions. Ancient sages neither looked nor listened, embraced spirit and kept still. When the degrees of the nine-turn firing were complete, they could transform their form, travel through the air, and roam freely between heaven and earth.

Those who nourish essence do not enslave the body outwardly; those who nourish spirit do not weary the mind inwardly. In time, strength arrives, work deepens, spirit is stored within, harmonious qi fills the body, and every joint and countless orifices become open—naturally circulating like the Milky Way.

The three yuan are the upper, middle, and lower dantian. Only when original qi is preserved does original essence arise; blood becomes cream filling the space between skin and flesh. In refining essence, nothing surpasses replenishing the brain. The brain is the sea of marrow. When brain marrow is full, pure yang spreads; when marrow everywhere is full, bones grow firm and sinews strong, and one no longer fears cold or heat.

Humans can cultivate and attain longevity because they can take in the upright qi of heaven and earth; they can take in upright qi because they have breathing. Exhalation reaches the root, inhalation reaches the stem; qi returns to the dantian, continuous and enduring.

Yet the Dao is not reached in a moment—it must be achieved by accumulating essence and gathering qi. Thus, after the inner embryo is formed in an instant, a hundred days bring spiritual effect, ten months complete the embryo, one year brings small accomplishment, three years great accomplishment, until nine years complete the work, worldly affairs are finished, and one can leave the dust, stand alone, and ascend as an immortal.

It is also said: one year and one day of heaven are like a single breath of a human. After the winter solstice counts as exhalation, after the summer solstice as inhalation—this is heaven and earth’s breath for a year; after zi counts as exhalation, after wu as inhalation—this is one day’s breath. The human body has thirteen thousand five hundred exhalations and thirteen thousand five hundred inhalations per day. One exhalation and one inhalation make one breath; in one breath, the number of thirteen thousand five hundred years of heaven’s cycle is secretly matched. Three hundred sixty days in a year, four million eight hundred sixty thousand breaths in all, secretly matching four million eight hundred sixty thousand years of heaven’s cycle. Then the turbid yin body is entirely replaced by a pure yang body. First replace breath, then blood, then vessels, then flesh, then marrow, then sinews, then bones, then hair, then form. Over nine years, through nine transformations, yin is refined away into pure yang, sharing longevity with heaven and earth. This is the way of longevity and transcendence.

The Yi says: “Heaven’s movement is strong and firm; the noble person therefore ceaselessly strengthens himself.” The Yinfu jing says: “Observe heaven’s Dao; enact heaven’s operation.” Alas—here the principle is exhausted.

The Zhixuan pian says: “Seeking immortality without knowing true lead and true mercury—reading ten thousand elixir books in vain is useless.” Lead and mercury in elixir books are all metaphors; the student should infer by analogy and must not leave the body to seek outside.

Ancient sages, fearing that later lovers of the Dao would lack correct explanation, gathered pointers everywhere, annotated old texts, and wrote books to open the way—truly wishing learners a place to trace the stream back to the source. Yet when they wrote, they often hid the root deep, unwilling to speak plainly, borrowing names of the five metals and eight minerals to show only branches. Later people did not probe the original intent; they merely shelved the books for life, so generation after generation remained confused, burning cinnabar and mercury to exhaustion, gaining nothing in the end. Officials lost office, farmers abandoned fields, merchants ruined trade, and aspirants could not live in peace—deeply pitiable.

Wei Gong (Wei Boyang) therefore fixed the Cantong qi. Measures have numbers; not a word is spoken at random; front and back connect; not one character is superfluous. Part the branches and the fruit appears at once. Truly few words, easy to ponder; matters simple, not tangled. Some see three sections and suspect verbosity, not knowing three sections are one sentence. One line of oral formula is scattered through three sections, so wording is deliberately disordered and side doors opened, not daring to leak the whole. If the wise truly think carefully and investigate with heart, they will surely grasp it themselves.

True mercury arises in Li. Li is the female, positioned at wu. By regional assignment, wu corresponds to the Three Rivers, hence “River Maid.” Tracing its origin, it comes from emptying the heart and concentrating spirit. Because it issues from one’s own heart-mind, it is called spirit mercury, also divine mercury. Its nature is fierce; at sight of fire it flies without trace, like a hidden dragon whose whereabouts are unknown. Without yellow sprout as root, how can it be subdued? Yellow sprout is true lead. When mercury is captured by true lead and joins with it, it no longer flies. This is why it is taken as the root of the golden elixir.

One yin and one yang mutually matching is called Dao; leaning to yin alone or yang alone is called illness. A hen lays eggs without a rooster—surely no chick. Why? Sole yang cannot generate; sole yin cannot complete. Heaven and earth generate the myriad things like fire hot and water moist—where is human power in that? It is simply natural.

The human head models heaven, the belly symbolizes earth. Only sink spirit and hold inward—do not forget, do not force growth; regulate nasal breath—neither loose nor constrained—and naturally opening and closing, receiving and giving, match the Dao of heaven and earth generating things. When the time comes, qi transformation stirs, as if sound naturally in the aperture; fire rises from below the navel, water is produced toward the crown—the wonder has its own unbidden moment. At first it does not come from laboring spirit and strength. Clearly this Dao is heaven-made and earth-established, fixed and unchangeable.

The Cuixu pian says: Like when husband and wife unite and a drop of essence-blood forms an infant—in golden elixir, “copulation” means yin and yang sensing each other within, spirit and qi joining. When spirit enters qi and meets spirit in measure and response, there is truly a firm-yet-soft binding that cannot be pulled apart. What technique controls it? You only see it thus; you do not know why it is thus.

The commentary on the Xinyin jing says: The qi received by male and female is originally the same; only the order of sensing divides yin and yang. Quyi says: Qi opening makes male, qi closing makes female. Yang qi gathers in the abdomen, so men’s abdomens are heavy and they are born face down; yin qi gathers in the back, so women’s backs are heavy and they are born face up. At death it is the same—visible in drowning. Did parents teach them this? At the first receiving of qi, the order of opening and closing was already set. Wei Gong’s intent is that the student thoroughly understand yin and yang above and below in oneself and know nature’s way.

“Sun flowing pearl” is spirit mercury. The Lingyuan dadao ge says: This thing has no fixed place; it changes with the mind at every moment. Felt hot on the body it becomes sweat; felt as wind in the nose it becomes mucus; felt in union in the kidney it becomes essence; felt as grief in the eyes it becomes tears. Clearly it always wishes to leave the person.

“Golden flower” is true lead. When mercury obtains true lead, they turn to rely on each other, naturally neither flying nor fleeing, lingering within, becoming golden fluid, congealing extremely firm. True lead is born at the position of Kan—first liquid, later congealing into yellow sprout, hence metaphors of horse teeth and fine jade. The Cuixu pian says: “The elixir head is simply prior heaven’s qi; refining yellow sprout sends forth jade blossoms”—this is it.

Lead is lord, mercury minister. Lead moves first; mercury responds—like the lord initiating and ministers echoing. Lead belongs to metal, mercury to wood. Wood’s nature loves metal; metal’s feeling clings to wood. Yin and yang find their kind and naturally sense and unite.

The elixir method should advance fire near yin’s extreme, welcoming the first stir of yang. Neither too much nor too little. Only see the hundred vessels return to source and the passageways opened through to the end. Sovereign fire, minister fire, and common fire all gather in the yellow palace and are smelted into the supreme treasure.

True lead is gestated in Kun Mother’s womb, like a loving mother nourishing. When it flies up to the Qian palace, captures true mercury, and joins it into elixir, it returns again to Kun Mother’s dwelling. This is the filial son repaying kindness, the crow feeding its parents. Yet without fierce fire to smelt it violently, true lead cannot rise. This is the strict father enforcing command.

Metal generates water, wood generates fire—the usual forward order of the Five Phases. In elixir method now wood pairs with fire and fire in turn generates wood; metal and water unite and water in turn generates metal. Hence it is said the Five Phases interweave as master, mutually depending to generate.

Fire’s nature can melt metal—meaning to use fire of the southern Li palace to refine metal in northern water. Metal cuts wood and makes wood flourish—meaning to use metal in northern water to subdue wood in southern fire.

Water’s number is one, fire’s two—together three; five is earth. Three and five unite as one; water, fire, and earth blend into one qi. Then black and yellow mix; clear and turbid are not yet divided—like the beginning of heaven and earth in chaos. Soon the time comes, qi transformation occurs, being arises from non-being, and in dark trance a clump forms—the most subtle of heaven and earth gestates within.

Qu Tu Shenhe said: If one understands “three-five-one,” one may still become an earth-traveling immortal. The wonder must be transmitted mouth to heart; hard to write fully on paper. Students without a clear teacher can only guess.

Zi should turn right—from west to the zi position, and the tiger is born in water. Wu turns east—from east to wu, and the dragon emerges from fire. Zi and wu are south and north, i.e. water and fire; mao and you are east and west, i.e. metal and wood. Turn right, turn left, sink and rise—water and fire intersect, metal and wood naturally no longer separate. Yet east, west, mao, and you are aliases for metal and wood, not heaven-earth directions or the body’s left and right—yet one cannot leave the body to seek elsewhere.

South is the Li dragon, north the Kan tiger. In making elixir, drive the dragon down to call to the tiger; the tiger swallows the dragon’s essence. One call, one intake—they feed each other and merge into one.

“Mars guarding the west” is fire entering metal’s homeland. “Venus crossing heaven” is metal appearing as it passes southern wu. In making elixir, move spirit fire to shine into the metal country; metal pressed by fire flies up and appears in the south. Metal is true lead.

Where killing qi arrives, what does not topple? True lead flies up and captures true mercury; true mercury comes out on its own to enter true lead. Then spirit enters qi and becomes the embryo, like a cat or dog guarding a rat; the medicine obtains fire and becomes elixir, like birds fearing the hawk. Things by kind subdue each other; at meeting they naturally submit, so they dare not sound out. This method is extremely subtle and also extremely easy—only fear not knowing what dragon and tiger are.

The Huanjin pian says: Without penetrating yin-yang’s root, discussing mystery is vain. How much more without grasping the inner principle—how can one speak recklessly from guesswork?

From antiquity to now, lovers of this Dao have been extremely many—seeking famous drugs everywhere, dealing with itinerant artisans, exhausting family wealth, separating brothers, wives, and children, never meeting the true Dao for life. Extremely few succeed in the whole world—why? Wrong at the gate, turning from the Dao, no clear teacher, not yet seeing that principle.

Yet mercury is originally wood’s essence, nature flying—seemingly hard to subdue. Only when cast into the lead furnace does it unite with lead. “Moved to the western position to join metal”—this is it.

Heaven one generates water, positioned north, image Black Tortoise; earth two generates fire, south, Vermilion Bird; heaven three generates wood, east, Azure Dragon; earth four generates metal, west, White Tiger. Each stands in one direction, originally unrelated.

Now “where metal and water unite” is western four, White Tiger’s metal descending into water; “water and fire as partners” is eastern three, Azure Dragon’s wood rising into fire. So metal is not in the west but unites with water in the north; wood is not in the east but partners fire in the south. White Tiger becomes black tiger, Azure Dragon red dragon. “Yang dragon originally issues from the Li palace; yin tiger still is born at Kan”—this is it. When metal, water, wood, and fire gather as one, it is chaos like the Great Ultimate not yet divided; divided into two, it is Zhen dragon’s mercury leaving its home, Dui tiger’s lead born in Kan palace. The four were originally four images; now not speaking Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise but only dragon and tiger is because south-north is warp, east-west weft. Zhang Ziyang said: “The four images do not leave the two bodies”—deeply grasping the root.

Liver green, lungs white—metal and wood; kidneys black, heart red—water and fire. Metal generates water, wood generates fire, so liver and lungs are called parents, heart and kidneys children. Metal and wood also both arise from earth, so the spleen is called ancestor.

If kidneys are children, why are they also the start of the Five Phases? Answer: Kidneys belong to water; water’s number is one. One day’s qi starts at zi, born in kidneys, then passes liver, heart, spleen, lungs.

Why not call the five the five viscera but three things? Answer: Metal and water unite; wood and fire partner; together with wu ji earth they make three. Four images and Five Phases all depend on earth; without wu earth no elixir—so the three return to one earth.

Golden elixir is originally from non-being to being—not something with form to serve as material; only borrowed to metaphorize the Five Phases.

The body’s two streams of qi assist each other, circulate through the hours—like stars stir, mao and you add, metal and water naturally no longer separate.

“Kill and hide” is sinking to the sea bottom, like autumn qi killing, gathering all things inward. “Generate and rise” is moving to the southern sea, like spring qi generating, issuing freely.

Second month establishes mao; the month general is He Kui. He Kui belongs to xu; xu holds xin metal—this month elm pods wither because xin metal’s killing qi reaches mao. Eighth month establishes you; month general Tian Gang. Tian Gang belongs to chen; chen holds yi wood—this month wheat grows because yi wood’s generating qi occupies you.

Sun reaching western lands is spring—second month mao hour, western lands east, northern lands south; sun reaching eastern lands is autumn—eighth month you hour, eastern lands west, southern lands north. South-north is heaven-earth warp, east-west weft. In the cauldron, Kui-Gang turns once—dragon goes west, tiger east, zi south and wu north, no difference from second and eighth month mao-you creation. This metaphorizes our body’s heaven and earth reversing—ascending has descending within, descending has ascending within. Firing has peril; the mind must guard like a city wall, not letting it scatter.

Yang arises from one, completes at nine. Yang’s number at nine reaches the pole; at the pole it returns to one. Yuan is original qi, jing is true essence. Xu and Wei are where sun and moon join—in hai-zi between, yin extreme and yang birth. Zi hour is where one yang first stirs. Elixir method in prior heaven only holds Taiyi qi; in later heaven it transforms to true essence and deploys.

The great way of golden elixir differs from side-door minor arts and easy comfort methods. One must leave worldly affairs, single-minded, morning and evening diligent without a moment’s break. Yet after one year in the chamber, one must still warm and nourish—not immediately travel far. Only after three years is the body like mist, walking like flight, able to rise lightly and wander afar. Great floods—I am not drowned; great drought melting metal and hills—I feel no heat. Survival or death is in oneself; long peace without worry.

Yet when warm nourishment is complete, one should still hide among people, accumulate merit, guide and save many deluded ones—only then turn and leave. Zhu Lingen instructed Huangfu Lüdao: receive later students; do not only hide. Merit must benefit the multitude before ascending—how can one be allowed to care only for oneself?

Generally, side-door minor arts are method-heavy, easy to meet but hard to succeed; the golden elixir great way is method-simple, hard to meet but easy to succeed. Once one examines that the correct path is met and the thread seen, compare by things, gauge principle’s end and start—then between heaven and earth, form generates qi, qi becomes things, large and small, high and low, sentient and insentient, everywhere is Dao, all can extend by analogy. Cranes calling at midnight, roosters at fifth watch—why? Responding to heaven and earth’s qi. Also cicadas sucking wind, rhinoceros gazing at moon, jade pool night moon, green mountains evening clouds—all are images of golden elixir law. Zhang Ziyang said: Cultivators must thoroughly understand yin-yang and deeply penetrate creation—is it not trustworthy?

Nothing in elixir method is more important than the Five Phases. The wonder of the Five Phases: use fire to refine metal, use metal to cut wood. Fire too strong—use water to pour; water too strong—use earth to check—this is Five Phases mutual overcoming. Metal generates water; water is metal’s child, yet water again generates metal. Wood generates fire; fire is wood’s child, yet fire again generates wood. This is mutually becoming parent in reverse. Father like heaven, mother like earth. Heaven’s qi descends to earth; earth receives it—then the work of generation completes. Hence mother holds nourishing fluid; father governs receiving and giving.

Five Phases’ essence congeals into metal and stone—still indestructible for a thousand years. How much more when humans congeal their Five Phases essence into treasure, sharing endlessness with heaven and earth—how are metal and stone worth mentioning? So at this time, thought must stay here, mind undivided, all day quietly holding like a hen brooding—then work is pure, material is not consumed, firing is not interrupted, and Dao completes.

When humans are still and settled, Dao naturally dwells. Like raising a pole and seeing shadow, calling a valley and hearing echo—nothing unresponsive. As for sun and moon hanging in heaven—take fire from them and fire is born, take water and water is obtained—response so fast—is it not extremely subtle? No one under heaven does not see, yet no one truly knows.

Wild ge and croton are the most poisonous in materia medica. Old books say: eating wild ge to one inch, croton to one liang—person falls at once. Even Duke of Zhou and Confucius divining, Bian Que and shamans needling and drumming cannot revive them. People today only know poison entering the mouth kills quickly, yet do not believe spirit elixir entering the mouth grants longevity—why such failure to think?

“Later preface” is a preface placed at the book’s end.

A humble man of the state of Guo (a small Zhou-era polity, roughly in present-day Xinmi, Henan) likened himself to a life about to decay in a secluded valley. Clinging to simplicity, he cared nothing for power, glory, or rank; he lived in a remote, mean dwelling, held wealth and fame lightly, and kept to quiet ease, hoping only for peace in the times. At leisure at home, he wrote this piece, singing in verse the great Changes (Zhouyi) and the words left by the three sages Fuxi, King Wen of Zhou, and Confucius. He traced where their teachings pointed (in Yu Yan’s edition, “fang” [guard] reads “suo” [where they point]) and gathered them into one principle, stressing alignment with natural order so that spirit could flourish; wondrous change flows without ceasing (in Yu Yan’s edition, “shen” [spirit] reads “shi” [to apply]), and the four seas find peace. He set this teaching out as a calendar, followable for ten thousand generations; then he ordered governance step by step, without undue complexity. Inward cultivation nourished nature, in line with the spontaneity taught by the Yellow Emperor and Laozi. When De is stored deep, one can return to the root and revert to the origin. The Dao is close—in one’s own heart, never leaving the self; holding fast to “the One” without slackening, one can endure. He also paired ingestion with regimen, arranging male and female— the two aspects of yin and yang, often lead and mercury in neidan—properly. (The eight characters “si wu nian fang, wu xing xuan xun” are absent from the present text.) He put aside stone drugs such as those from Wudu (an ancient place famed for realgar) and discarded the eight minerals (common waidan ores), and carefully chose materials that could complete the work and were prized in the world. Three threads run side by side, stem and branch linked; the names differ, yet they share one gate. This is not mere paired rhetoric—within it there is broadly real principle, clear to see. If one only piles up falsity, one invites fault. He therefore named it Cantong Qi (Triplex Unity), so readers could see the thread from the opening. Few words, great meaning—later ages should follow it. Leaving the vulgar world and shunning harm, he relied on hill and mound, wandered in open spaces, neighbored with ghosts; transforming the body to become an immortal, in deep silence. After a hundred generations he still roamed among people. Spreading wings, he tilted east, west, and south. Shang Tang met adversity; drought and flood came together; leaves withered and lost their luster. Only when all sides mutually support can one settle into long life. Old commentaries often treat the closing lines as character-splitting, hiding the author’s name “Wei Boyang”; the “three threads” mean the great Changes, Huang-Lao, and the firing process—different names, one gate. The attached work is titled Ming Jiang Yibiao’s collected Exegesis of the Old Text Cantong Qi; the fascicle bears Eastern Han Xu Jingxiu’s Cantong Qi with Commentary, upper fascicle, as included in the Imperially Commissioned Complete Library of the Four Treasures.

Qian and Kun are the gateway of the Yi (Book of Changes) and the parent of all hexagrams. Kan and Li are like the outer rim of a wheel, turning the hub and aligning the axle. Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li—these four hexagrams divide yin and yang and serve as the bellows (tuo yue), enclosing the way of yin–yang transformation. It is like a skilled charioteer who sights the inked line, holds the reins, follows the rule, and tracks the ruts, keeping to the center while steering the circumference. These numbers are arranged within pitch pipes, the calendar, and timekeeping. The nodes of a month take five and six as their numbers; warp and woof align with the sun’s course, totaling sixty together. Firm and yielding lines each have inner and outer aspects. At dawn on the first day, Zhun presides; at dusk, Meng takes over—one hexagram for day and one for night, used in sequence. When Jiji and Weiji are reached, night nears its end and a cycle closes, then begins anew. The day’s branches set the term; movement and stillness each have early and late phases. In spring and summer one relies on the inner body of the hexagrams, with the double-hours from zi through chen and si; in autumn and winter one applies the outer body, from wu through xu and hai. Reward and punishment answer to spring and autumn; dusk and dawn shift with cold and heat. The line statements carry benevolence and righteousness, issuing joy and anger according to the season. Thus they accord with the four seasons, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) each keep their proper order.

Zhenyi zi Peng Xiao’s commentary, starting from “Great Yi,” stresses especially: in autumn and winter one should use the outer aspect, from wu through xu and hai; reward and punishment should match spring and autumn; dusk and dawn should follow cold and heat; the lines hold benevolence and righteousness and release joy and anger in season—so that the four seasons are answered and the Five Phases obtain their sequence. Here hexagram images mark the timeliness of advance and retreat in cultivation.

Peng Xiao, Master Zhenyi, said: Before the stages of Grand Easy (Taiyi), Grand Void (Taixu), and Grand Beginning (Taichu)—when form had not yet taken shape—although the principle of empty subtlety was already present, no sign of sprouting could yet be seen. Only at the junctures of Grand Beginning, Grand Simplicity (Taisu), and Supreme Ultimate (Taiji) did an undifferentiated whole appear; that is primordial chaos (hundun). Within it lay the essence of the True One (Zhenyi)—the opening of Heaven and Earth and the mother of the ten thousand things. Once this single qi took form, the two principles (yinyang, Heaven and Earth) separated; then came Qian and Kun, yin and yang, the three powers (Heaven, Earth, and humanity), the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth), and the distinct names of all things. Thus Qian and Kun are paired as the warp and woof of Heaven and Earth, and the turning of yin and yang serves as the bellows (tuoyue) of creation—the mechanism that drives generation and transformation. Once Qian and Kun are established, yin and yang move within them.

Master Xu held that refining the gold-liquid returning elixir (jinye huandan)—imitating the creative work of Heaven and Earth to forge and restore the primordial golden elixir—follows the same path as creation itself; hence the work borrows the hexagrams of the Book of Changes (Yi) for its exposition. In every case one first takes the qi of the True One from the chaos of Heaven and Earth as the foundation, then takes the hidden traces of how the essences of Qian and Kun circulate as the emblematic pattern; according to the numerical degrees of Kan, Li, Pi, and Tai one fixes “punishment” and “virtue” (the killing and nurturing phases), and by seizing the pivot of yin-yang change one forms winter and summer. Yin is born after midday (wu); yang arises at the start of zi. Movement rises from the yang line “nine”; stillness follows the yin line “six.” These are the root rules of elixir practice. Therefore Qian and Kun serve as the cauldron-vessel, Kan and Li as the frame, Water and Fire as husband and wife, yin and yang as dragon and tiger, the Five Phases as the weft concealing true essence, and the three powers as the warp gathering pure refinement. Cold comes and heat goes, operating through three hundred eighty-four lines; the hare rises and the crow sets (moonrise and sunset), ascending and descending through three hundred eighty-four days. All of this begins transformation from the substance of the Qian and Kun hexagrams—hence the saying that Qian and Kun are the gateway of the Yi and the parents of all hexagrams.

In refining the gold-liquid returning elixir, within the cauldron there is the golden mother’s flowery pool—also called the golden womb or spirit chamber (shentai), where the medicine forms its embryo. Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li serve as cauldron-vessel and medicine. The bellows is the hub of control; covering and enclosing is wrapping and sheltering. Thus there are the yin cauldron and yang furnace, firm fire and gentle talisman, all cycling through the sixty-four hexagrams in mutual use. Within this one also runs spring, summer, autumn, and winter, divides the twenty-four solar terms, and splits seventy-two climate nodes: compressing a year’s twelve months of qi into one month, and gathering one month’s qi into the twelve double-hours of a single day and night. Calibrating clepsydra and quarter, separating upper and lower “strings” of the month, placing zi and wu apart, following the comings and goings of yin and yang, threading dark and new moon, joining dragon and tiger, conforming to the great numbers of Heaven and Earth and matching the transforming mechanism of yin and yang—if control is without error and the cycle of movement is not lost, outwardly one meets the signs and tokens of yin and yang, inwardly one gives birth to the body of dragon and tiger. Hence it is said: a good craftsman who follows the line and ink does not go awry; a skilled driver who holds reins and bit does not lose control—both conform to compass and track. This is a metaphor for the elixir practitioner’s mastery of firing times (huohou).

One month has five six-day periods—thirty days in all; day and night each take one hexagram in turn—sixty hexagrams. Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li are the father and mother of the medicine, pivoting the cauldron-vessel and are not counted among the day-night rotations; Cantong qi sums it up: together they make sixty-four hexagrams. The lines are the “warp” of sun and moon; calendrical degrees and numbers are the “weft.” Yang firm and yin yielding, Water, Fire, Metal, and Wood are inner and outer to one another. As yin and yang rise and fall through day and night, firing times follow the lines; each day and night one hexagram holds office. At the head stand the hexagrams Zhun and Meng (the text reads “Zhun-fang”—morning Zhun, evening Meng); morning Zhun, evening Meng, arranged in order. Ji and Wei mean Jiji and Weiji; hui and shuang mean the alternation of dark and bright between new and full moon. The day-cycle is the measure; yang belongs to movement, yin to stillness—within the twelve double-hours one distinguishes early and late, and the fire numbers cycle and alternate. Yang fire advances the talisman from zi to si, when pure yang holds sway—inner yin seeking outer yang. Yin talisman withdraws fire from wu to hai, when pure yin holds sway—outer yang attaching to inner yin. This inner-outer pattern and the logic of waxing and waning, from the hexagram Fu through to Kun, are all mirrored in the line images. Spring’s generative qi is called “reward”; autumn’s killing qi is called “punishment.” Zi, chou, and yin are spring; mao, chen, and si are summer—the yang-fire nodes. Wu, wei, and shen are autumn; you, xu, and hai are winter—the yin-talisman nodes. Running fire talismans through the twelve double-hours corresponds to the four seasons, Five Phases, dusk and dawn, cold and heat, benevolence, righteousness, joy, and anger—not a hair’s breadth of error in the line images; only then is it called “without loss.” If the four seasons within the cauldron are not deficient and cold and heat in the hexagram images agree, the elixir will surely be achieved.

An old verse says: The sage seizes creation’s intent, with his own hands kneads sun and moon and sets up furnace and cauldron; subtly ascending, inverting the essences of Heaven and Earth, gathering yin and yang, commanding the spirits. Who knows the soul of the sun and the spirit of the moon? Whoever knows is a true immortal. Refine it, ingest it—take a thousand days as the term; when the body no longer holds yin, how could one die? Thus in refining the gold-liquid returning elixir, unless one takes the natural pattern of Heaven and Earth’s creation as one’s model, there is nothing else to rely upon.

Chen Xianwei, the Baoyizi, says: The Jinbi Jing (Golden Splendor Scripture) states that the shenshi (spirit chamber) is the hub of the elixir and the parent of all “stones.” Master Xu (Xu Congshi) says that Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Yi (Changes) and the parents of all hexagrams. The two statements mean the same thing: without the spirit chamber there is no elixir; without Qian and Kun there is no Yi. Qian and Kun are the hexagrams of pure Yang and pure Yin; the six “children” are the hexagrams formed when that single pure body is split apart. Mayi said: When Qian and Kun interweave, the six children are born; the six children are the “broken body” of Qian and Kun. Since the six children are born from Qian and Kun, all sixty-four hexagrams likewise arise from Qian and Kun—hence Qian and Kun are called the parents of all hexagrams. The parents’ bodies are originally one pure Yang and one pure Yin; once the six children appear, the bodies of pure Yang and pure Yin are broken—how can they remain pure? Chen Xirang said: Only by refining the broken body again can the pure body be restored. From this we know that the broken body, through cultivation, can return to the pure body and enter the Way; and the many “stones,” through refining, can be gathered into the spirit chamber and become the elixir. The many stones are not something outside the body—they are the many hexagrams in one’s own person; the spirit chamber is not an external thing—it is one’s own Qian and Kun within. To refine the great elixir, first establish Qian and Kun as the spirit chamber; once the chamber is set, transformation proceeds within it. When Qian and Kun are settled, Yin and Yang naturally intercourse: Qian descends to meet Kun and becomes Kan; Kun ascends to meet Qian and becomes Li. Once Kan and Li are formed, transformation again unfolds within them.

It is also said: The sun is the soul of Heaven, moving down from the west to meet Earth; the moon is the spirit of Earth, moving up from the east to meet Heaven—images of male and female exchanging essence. As sun and moon come and go, cold and heat, the four seasons, day and night, and the divisions of Yin and Yang are fixed. Heaven and Earth by themselves cannot produce cold and heat—cold and heat come from the sun and moon’s nearness and distance; they cannot divide the four seasons—the four seasons come from the sun and moon’s north and south; they cannot make day and night—day and night come from the sun and moon’s rising and setting; they cannot make dark and bright—dark and bright come from the sun and moon’s conjunction. However subtle Yin and Yang may be, they do not go beyond sun and moon; however vast creation may be, it does not go beyond Kan and Li. Thus although the transformations of the many hexagrams are not uniform, none escape the central lines of Kan and Li cycling through the six positions—like many wheel spokes that all turn around one hub. Kan’s central line is the single Yang within it; Li’s central line is the single Yin within it, moving up and down among the six lines. Laozi said: Thirty spokes share one hub; it is precisely because the hub is empty that the cart is useful. One who penetrates this Way turns the sun and moon within the body; ordinary people who do not understand violate the Yin and Yang of creation and cannot avoid failure like a city wall collapsing back into the moat, and faults like spokes falling off—what use then in squaring the rim or aligning the axle?

Qian is the pure Yang “male” hexagram; Kun is the pure Yin “female” hexagram; Kan is Yin containing Yang; Li is Yang containing Yin—all hexagrams of female–male intercourse, hence called the four female–male hexagrams. The other sixty hexagrams either have partial Yin above or partial Yang below, or partial Yang above or partial Yin below—Yin and Yang are not pure, female and male do not meet, and cannot be called female–male. Only these four hexagrams envelop the Way of Yin and Yang and serve as tuoyue (the bellows and its tube—a metaphor for the opening-and-closing mechanism). Qian and Kun are the substance of the bellows; Kan and Li are its function. To understand the substance and function of the four hexagrams is like a craftsman following cord and ink to match square and compass, or a charioteer holding bit and reins while following the rut: principle settled within, subtle use controlled without—then actions rarely err and movement accords with nature.

By calendrical reckoning, one month has thirty days; remove the four female–male hexagrams and exactly sixty hexagrams remain to match the days: two hexagrams per day, one as jing (warp), one as wei (weft). Morning Zhun, evening Meng; morning Xu, evening Song—on through Jiji and Weiji. The inner and outer, firm and yielding of the hexagram images: morning above, evening below; firm on the outside, yielding within. Adding the four hexagrams in front, all sixty-four hexagrams of the Zhou Yi are thus put to use. Therefore the Way of the great elixir can be read together with the Yi—this is why the Cantong Qi (Unity of the Three) was written.

Mayi said: Message and return (xiaoxi) are seen only in the hexagram images—do not stop at the line statements; to see the meaning beyond the words is to have truly clarified the Yi. He also said: Opposition among hexagrams is most crucial; the inverted body is already deep, the paired body even more subtle. Zhun inverted is Meng; from Xu and Song downward, all follow inverted pairing in order. Where inversion fails, as with Yi and Xiao Guo, paired bodies connect—so after Yi comes Da Guo, which is the paired body. From the month’s beginning, morning Zhun and Meng, to the month’s end, dawn Jiji and Weiji, new and full moon cycle, ending and beginning again. Thus morning is Yang and evening Yin; day is movement and night stillness; near and far cycle; host and guest alternate. Within fullness and emptiness of message there is both advance and retreat, and both nurturing and killing. Advancing fire must avoid the slightest moment’s error; retreating talisman must guard against hair’s-breadth deviation; adding and subtracting requires distinguishing float and sink; operation requires knowing dusk and dawn. The student seeks meaning from the images; once meaning is grasped, the images may be forgotten. A verse in the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) says: Once you have grasped the meaning here, you need not seek the images again; if you exhaust every line in vain, you only weary your spirit. That is the point.

Hexagrams have inner and outer bodies. The inner three lines model spring and summer of the year and from after the zi hour to before noon in a day; the outer three lines model autumn and winter and from after noon to before zi. The inner body follows Yang; the outer follows Yin—an image of Qian and Kun in mutual tai (peace/intercourse). Nourish Yang in spring and summer, Yin in autumn and winter; advance fire after zi, retreat talisman after noon—the principle is the same. Reward is Yang, punishment Yin; benevolence Yang, righteousness Yin; joy Yang, anger Yin. In the morning act Yang in response to spring and summer; in the evening act Yin in response to autumn and winter. If one accords with the four seasons, one naturally obtains the principle of the Five Phases—it is not a matter of literally busy rewarding and punishing, being benevolent or righteous, joyful or angry. Master Xu only borrows these to metaphor the nurturing and killing of Yin and Yang. Moreover the elixir is the essence of utmost Yang; as long as a thread of Yin is not fully refined away, accomplishment is impossible. Can those who cultivate truth be less careful between movement and stillness, speech and silence? Cherishing life and benefiting things, kindness and forgiveness, love and trustworthiness, harmony and joy, purity and stillness, truth and no falsity—these belong to Yang; delight in killing, cruelty and jealousy, greed and deceit, arrogance and fierceness, craving, and empty fraud—these belong to Yin. Guard against Yin and cultivate Yang, and Yin will extinguish itself; when Yin is exhausted and Yang is pure, one naturally becomes true.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu says: Fuxi saw the River Chart and first drew the eight trigrams. Yellow Emperor, Yao, and Shun draped themselves in garments and the realm was governed—taking Qian and Kun as their model. The Xia Guicang took Kun as first; the Shang Lianshan took Gen as first; King Wen’s Zhou Yi took Qian and Kun as first. Confucius in the transmitted texts said: Are not Qian and Kun the gateways of the Yi? Qian is the Yang thing; Kun is the Yin thing. He also said: Qian in stillness is unified; in movement upright—therefore it can greatly generate; Kun in stillness is closed; in movement open—therefore it can broadly generate. Wei Boyang deeply obtained the intent of the three sages and wrote the Cantong Qi, commenting above on the Way of the three sages and below ferrying people of ten thousand generations; the opening line points straight at Qian and Kun as the gateways of the Yi and parents of all hexagrams. Qian is Yang, hence the “house” of the Yi; Kun is Yin, hence the “door.” If the embryo of the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji) does not obtain this gateway of Qian and Kun, how could Heaven and Earth take their places, sun and moon shine, people be born, or sages spread their Way? Qian moving upright is the Supreme Ultimate of Yang generating Yin; Kun moving open is the Supreme Ultimate of Yin generating Yang. Yin and Yang interweave and become Li and Kan. Confucius said: The Yi has the Supreme Ultimate; the Supreme Ultimate generates the two modes; the two modes generate the four images; the four images generate the eight trigrams.

Qian uses nine: at first riding Kun it becomes Fu; within Fu is gestated Zhen; from Fu to Shi, within Shi is gestated Kan; from Shi to Qian, within Qian is gestated Gen; from Qian to Yu, Zhen is born in Yu; from Yu to Bi, Kan is born in Bi; from Bi to Bo, Gen is born in Bo. Thus the three sons are all gestated from Kun. Kun uses six: at first riding Qian it becomes Gou; within Gou is gestated Xun; from Gou to Tong Ren, Li is gestated; from Tong Ren to Lü, Dui is gestated; from Lü to Xiao Chu, Xun is born in Xiao Chu; from Xiao Chu to Da You, Li is born in Da You; from Da You to Guai, Dui is born in Guai. Thus the three daughters are all gestated from Qian. Male and female interweave and follow their kind: Qian again meets Kun, in order Lin, Tai, Da Zhuang, Guai—Yang seeking Yin; Kun again responds to Qian, in order Dun, Pi, Guan, Bo—Yin responding to Yang. From this the three sons and three daughters become husband and wife, and sixty hexagrams are born in sequence. This is what is meant by Qian and Kun as parents of all hexagrams.

What is “Kan and Li framing the outline”? Yang added to Yin: Qian’s middle becomes empty and becomes Li; Yin added to Yang: Kun’s belly fills and becomes Kan. Thus Kan and Li continue the bodies of Qian and Kun and become the contour of Yin and Yang. Qian and Kun toward Kan and Li are like spokes toward hub and axle: Qian and Kun square the spokes of Kan and Li; Kan and Li gather at Qian and Kun as hub. Laozi’s thirty spokes sharing one hub matches the meaning of the great and small Xici (Appendices). Pin is the mother of livestock; mu is the father; pin is the general name for Yin things, mu for Yang things. Taken together, Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li are the four female–male hexagrams. Taking female–male as bellows is like taking Yin–Yang as message and return: the bellows is like the gate of Yin, the tube like the door of Yang—Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li are like one set of bellows between Heaven and Earth. What the bellows Way generates as thing is called thing, as human is called human; what transcends the ordinary to become sage is called sage. Sages are good at seizing creation and good at using Kan and Li. Good at seizing creation is like a fine craftsman aligning to cord and ink and squaring the rule—what cannot be done? Good at using Kan and Li is like holding reins and following the track—where is there no harvest? The sage has the cosmos in hand and ten thousand transformations born in one body, good at dwelling in the center to control the outer, understanding calendrical pitch and knowing number.

Pitch responds to the nodes of creation; the calendar records the circuit of heaven. When one Yang is first born, pitch responds to Yellow Bell; from zi to hai the number of the full circuit is complete, so when one year has circled, Yang is again born at zi. The so-called “five or six” month nodes: two nodes make one month; five days make one hou (climate), six hou make one month—hence thirty days in a month. One day has twelve double-hours; two hexagrams’ twelve lines—then one day takes two hexagrams as warp and weft, one month takes sixty hexagrams as emblem.

What does “At new moon dawn Zhun presides, by dusk Meng receives” mean? Zhen below Kan above is Zhun. Zhen is the eldest son, able to restore Yang within Kan and bestow the virtue of generation—hence Zhun presides. Gen above Kan below is Meng. Gen is the youngest son, able to gather Yang within Kan and perform the work of warming nurture—hence Meng receives. Day and night each use one hexagram; among the sixty hexagrams Yin and Yang mutually bestow nurture. Full and new moon are the end and beginning of a month; morning and evening require care for a day’s movement and stillness. The four seasons fix a year’s reward and punishment: complete what is beautiful with reward, ruin what fails with punishment. Not losing the correctness of benevolence, righteousness, joy, and anger, one obtains the principle of the four seasons and Five Phases. The great meaning of this chapter is a general outline of the Cantong Qi, pointing out Qian and Kun as gateways of the Yi—it does not from the start speak directly of the medicinals and fire phases of the golden elixir.

Quanyangzi Yu Yan says: Closing the gate is Kun, opening the gate is Qian; one closes, one opens, coming and going without exhaustion—that is change and penetration. This is why Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Yi. Qian generates the three sons, Kun the three daughters; male and female unite their essence and the ten thousand things are born—this is why they are parents of all hexagrams. Kan is the moon, Li the sun; sun and moon travel the yellow track, day and night coming and going, cycling without end, like an outline surrounding on four sides. The hub is like the body, the axle like the heart; to make the hub turn, the axle must first be set straight. The metaphor: to turn the sun and moon within the body, one must first rectify one’s heart. Qian is pure Yang male; Kun pure Yin female; Kan Yin within Yang; Li Yang within Yin—hexagrams of female–male intercourse. In elixir method Qian and Kun are placed above and below, Kan and Li east and west; Qian and Kun open and close, Kan and Li come and go—like bellows. The bellows is the wind box, the tube the wind pipe—originally empty implements. The elixir Way is the same: when held it exists, when released it is lost—therefore one must be careful within and restrain without. As Liezi’s Taidou Shi driving a chariot: harmony between bit and rein, urgency matching the lips, standards correct in the chest, measure held in the hand; obtaining it in the heart, matching the horse’s intent without—the advance and retreat accord with the cord, turning accords with the compass.

“Number lies in pitch, calendar, and cycle” means traversing thirteen positions, corresponding to the twelve tones of pitch, twelve months of the calendar, twelve years of a cycle. Month nodes “five or six” divide thirty days into six nodes. Jing is the positioning of Qian and Kun north and south; wei is the subtle use of Kan and Li east and west. Following the nodes dispatched by the days, running together with Heaven, rising and sinking with the sun without discrepancy. “Combined into sixty” means removing Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li—exactly sixty hexagrams. One day twelve double-hours, two hexagrams presiding, each line one double-hour, two hexagrams twelve lines—just matching pitch, calendar, and cycle; over thirty days together, sixty hexagrams in all. Spread sixty hexagrams through thirty days: first day of the month morning Zhun, evening Meng; thereafter morning Xu evening Song, morning Shi evening Bi, in order until month’s end Jiji and Weiji. Full and new moon cycle, beginning again. Among them the inner and outer, firm and yielding of the images—sometimes inverted opposition, sometimes paired opposition—only metaphor the upper and lower of fire phases; do not be rigidly bound.

Chen Nidan’s Cuixu Pian says: In heaven twelve images are clearly distinguished; people all divide them into stages of refining the elixir. Day is fire, chen is the climate node. If one reverses heaven’s day and chen and seeks them in oneself, the place the sun stands is the double-hour. Movement is rising with the sun; stillness is resting at sunset. One’s body has its own morning and evening of sunrise and sunset; the movement and stillness of fire phases secretly match celestial degrees one by one. Hexagrams have six lines; the lower three are inner, the upper three outer. Consider Zhun and Meng: morning uses Zhun—the fire phase of Yang fire rising; Zhun’s first nine matches zi in the body, from inner to outer—hence spring and summer follow the inner body, from zi through chen and si. Evening uses Meng—the Yin talisman descending; Meng’s top nine matches wu in the body, from outer to inner—hence autumn and winter use the outer body, from wu through xu and hai. Yang generates in spring, Yin kills in autumn—metaphor for reward and punishment in elixir method; the long day leaves the east at yin, the short day enters the west at shen—metaphor for dusk and dawn. Benevolence, righteousness, and timely joy and anger in the line texts are hidden, leaping, advance and retreat, add and subtract—each in its time. Are there really so-called four seasons, day and chen, morning and evening, dusk and dawn, and benevolence, righteousness, joy, anger, reward and punishment? All are metaphors for the message and return of Yin and Yang in one’s body and the measure of excess and deficiency. To work truly by tidal reckoning would be wrong.

Heaven and earth establish their positions, and change runs within them. Here, heaven and earth stand for Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth). “Establishing positions” means arranging yin and yang, matching morning, evening, dusk, and dawn, and tying in talk of benevolence and righteousness, joy and anger, reward and punishment. All of this is metaphor for the waxing and waning of yin and yang in our own body, and the measure to hold between excess and deficiency. If you really timed practice by tides and clock-hours, you would be mistaken.

The scripture also says: establishing positions means laying out the places where yin and yang pair; yi (change) refers to Kan (Water) and Li (Fire). Kan and Li are the two modes of Qian and Kun. These two modes have no fixed line positions; they circulate through the six voids (the six lines of the hexagram), coming and going without fixity, with no constant above or below.

Zhenyi zi Peng Xiao said: Heaven and earth establishing positions means the ding vessel of the Jiji hexagram (water and fire meeting) takes the pattern of Qian and Kun; change running within means the talismanic fire of yin-yang Kan and Li turns in the cauldron. Once the vessel follows Qian and Kun, the golden mother (the true yin “medicine” in neidan) is placed within, completing the three talents of Heaven, Earth, and Humanity. That Kan and Li’s two modes have no fixed lines means that outward application of water and fire has no fixed track in movement and stillness, hence circulation through the six voids, with comings and goings and ascent and descent never fixed in place.

Baoyi zi Chen Xianwei said: This borrows Master Xu’s own reading—taking Qian and Kun as the spirit chamber (the place where the spirit is settled and refined), arranging yin and yang in paired positions, and letting Kan and Li intersect within to complete transformation. Yi is Kan and Li, because the character for “change” is built from sun and moon; sun and moon are the yi of heaven and earth, Kan and Li are the yi within the human body. Qian and Kun are the substance; Kan and Li are the function. These two functions have no fixed line positions, flowing through the six voids, with no fixed coming and going or constant above and below.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: In the Xici (Attached Verbalizations) among the Ten Wings that comment on the Yijing, it is said: “Heaven is high and honored, earth is low and humble—thus the positions of Qian and Kun are fixed.” Master Xu continued: “When heaven and earth have set their places, the Yi operates within them.” He also noted in his own commentary: Heaven and earth symbolize Qian and Kun; “setting places” means arranging the positions where Yin and Yang cooperate. Here “Yi” refers to Kan and Li. Kan and Li embody the two functions of Qian and Kun. The words are already quite explicit, and the intent is extremely earnest—could people still fail to trust this, or be so dull that they cannot grasp it?

The Xici also says: “Distinguishing Yin and Yang, alternating soft and hard—therefore the Yi is structured by six line positions.” What is meant by “two functions” is Qian’s use of the nine at the top and Kun’s use of the six at the top—having efficacy yet not occupying a fixed line position. The use of nine says “seeing a group of dragons without a head—good fortune”: this means the noble person practices the great Dao, and virtue reaches its utmost. The use of six says “favorable to forever holding correctness”—this speaks of Kun’s virtue: the way of earth, the way of the wife, the way of the minister. The way of earth does not claim merit alone, but carries through to completion at the end. Thus if Kun stands alone in function, yin alone cannot succeed; the use of six must follow Qian before it can go together with its kind. Qian’s use of nine paired with Kun is also the meaning of “in the southwest one finds friends.”

When Qian and Kun transform, each rectifies its own nature and destiny. Qian, in the primordial beginning, applies the use of nine upon Kun—yang containing yin, emptying to become Li; Kun, in the grand unity, receives Qian with the use of six—yin containing yang, filling to become Kan. Thereupon Kan and Li specially govern the substance of Yin and Yang, exert function amid change, enveloping transformation and nurturing without ever ceasing. It is like the sun and moon in the sky: in a glance they wax and wane, full and crescent; in another glance they alternate between dark and new moon. The Yin and Yang of the human body are the same—in a glance they unite in Taiji (the undifferentiated origin of Yin and Yang), in another glance they change without fixed pattern. The way of the Yi shifts again and again, never resting in one place. If Qian and Kun were destroyed, there would be no way to see the Yi. For this reason the sage cleanses the mind, withdraws and hides in the deepest secrecy, and practices the way of the Yi by reversing the usual path of outward dissipation.

Quanyang Zi Yu Yan, a Daoist scholar of the late Song and early Yuan, said: Heaven is above and earth is below; the two qi of Yin and Yang move within them, rising and falling and passing back and forth without end, like a bellows (tuoyue). A person receives the blended harmonious qi and is at first not a second body apart from heaven and earth. If the inner mind is emptied and stilled into clear quiet, one qi naturally circulates up and down: when it opens, qi goes out as earthly qi rises; when it closes, qi enters as heavenly qi descends—and one may endure like heaven and earth. That is Yi (Change). Is it only heaven and earth that have it?

Qian is heaven and Kun is earth—they are the dingqi, the inner alchemical vessel within my body (in neidan, a figure for the person). Li is the sun and Kan is the moon—they are the “medicinals” in my body, meaning the yin-yang essence qi. In the pre-heaven bagua (Eight Trigrams), Qian south and Kun north fix the paired positions of heaven and earth; Li east and Kan west mark the gates where sun and moon go out and in. Seek the same in your own body and the reasoning matches. Qian and Kun are the substance; Kan and Li are the function. Kan and Li, within the six vacant line-positions (liu xu), wheel up and down and pass to and fro and were never fixed at one line place. The Kan and Li of my body run inside the vessel, concealed in heaven and concealed in earth—how could they sit at fixed line-positions?

Yi is image. The signs hung high in heaven are bright and plain; nothing surpasses sun and moon. The sun gathers the essence of the Five Phases; the moon takes the measure of the six pitch-pipe degrees. Five and six make thirty degrees; when the count is spent it starts again. Only by plumbing the subtle do you know change: yang goes and yin comes, like spokes meeting at the hub while the wheel turns, out and in alternately rolling and gathering. Yi has three hundred eighty-four lines; from the lines you pick matching signs—and those signs are the sixty-four hexagrams. From the last day of the month to dawn on the first day of the new moon (hui ri to shuo dan), Zhen receives this sign. Then heaven and earth knit essence qi; sun and moon brace each other; the male yang spreads xuanshi, subtle yang impartation; the female yin forms huangbao, the yellow embryonic wrap; chaos meets and joins, the root is planted, the nascent form yinge is tended and fed, spirit is gathered into a body. All people are born on this path; crawling life too comes from nowhere else.

Zhenyi Zi Peng Xiao said: The Yi (Changes) works by images taken from the joining of sun and moon. Golden Liquid Returning Elixir (jinye huandan—the returned elixir refined from yin-yang quintessential qi) is always formed by uniting the yin-yang quintessential qi of sun and moon.

“Sun unites the essence of the Five Phases” means the sun joins the moon in conjunction once each month. “Moon receives the rule of the six pitch standards” means that gold and water within the Ding (the alchemical cauldron—in internal alchemy, the cauldron within the body) month by month receive, in turn, half a month’s worth of pitch qi. The six lü and six lü (pitch pipes and bell tones) are apportioned jointly by sun and moon.

Sun, moon, and the five planets traverse the sky and together nourish the myriad things. This is used as a metaphor: within the cauldron, incoming yin-yang qi is received; fire talismans rise and fall according to the zi and wu hours; the essence of the five planets is mobilized; the quintessence of sun and moon is merged. The Pi and Tai hexagrams link up, cycling without end—from Fu at the beginning to Kun at the close.

Thus yin-yang quintessential qi moves in and out, expanding and contracting in the day-night cycle, broadly matching the sixty-four hexagrams and three hundred eighty-four lines. Fire timing is taken from the lines; fire advances and retreats—when yin comes, yang goes; when yang hides, yin is applied. Qi from east and west meets, like the union of husband and wife. Then Zhen arrives to receive the talisman and signs; heaven and earth interweave their spirit; sun and moon unite hun and po.

Hundun (chaos) means the spirit chamber (where the elixir forms in the Ding) is like an egg: the two crescents join as in undivided chaos. Yang dragon and yin tiger within receive and exchange responsive qi, establish the root, and nurture ying’e (the first outline of the elixir body), condensing spirit into a body until it becomes a pure, refined substance. The cauldron chamber is thus a heaven-and-earth in miniature; every crawling, living thing is born from it without exception.

Masculine yang belongs to heaven—it is Xuan (mystery); feminine yin belongs to earth—it is Huang (yellow). This is old yang and old yin together with Father Qian and Mother Kun, applying fire talismans to the utmost. The creation-and-transformation in a single cauldron imitates, point for point, the turning of heaven and earth that brings forth the myriad things.

If fire timing is wrong, extraction and addition (advancing and retreating medicinals and fire) is excessive, cold and heat fail to match, or advance and retreat are skewed—how could heaven and earth still generate the myriad things through the seasons? How could yin and yang still give rise to dragon and tiger?

Bao Yizi Chen Xianwei explains: The Golden Jade Scripture says that when one speaks of the principles of refining the elixir, nothing is more essential than gold and fire. Entrust the subtle transformations to the spontaneous workings of nature: when yang first stirs, yin withdraws. Master Xu once used the Appended Remarks to the Book of Changes to verify this. The great way of the Changes is to display images upon the sun and moon; the great way of the Great Elixir is to make principle clear in gold and fire. Gold and fire are Kan and Li. When the essence of gold is strong, the jade rabbit (the moon) shines more brightly; when the virtue of fire flourishes, the golden crow (the sun) burns twice as fiercely. This passage uses “five” and “six” to explain the roles of water and earth: earth’s number is five, the sun’s number is five, and the numbers of the Five Phases are also five; water’s number is six, the moon’s number is six, and the numbers of the twelve pitch pipes are also six. The ten heavenly stems from jia to gui are called the ten days; five stems are yang and five are yin—this is the “five” of the sun. The twelve monthly pitch pipes divide into six yang pipes and six yin pipes—this is the “six” of the moon. Five times six is thirty degrees; when the degrees are complete they begin again from the start—this is the cycle of dark moon and new moon. Between dark moon and new moon, gold and fire wax and wane in each other’s place, mutually living and dying. Once the student has thoroughly fathomed the marvel and understood the changes, yang goes out and yin comes in, turning like spokes gathering toward the hub, alternately entering and leaving, coiling and uncoiling. Take the line-images of the Changes as tokens of measure, and read the sun and moon’s dimness and brightness to grasp the firing times—then one can naturally hold the pivot of heaven and earth and skillfully borrow the work of creation.

The Changes has three hundred eighty-four lines; the medicine has three hundred eighty-four zhu. Twenty-four zhu make one liang; three hundred eighty-four zhu is sixteen liang, exactly the number “two-eight.” According to the rise and fall of yin and yang shown in the line-images, one selects hexagram-images as tokens and then applies fire according to the tokens. The token is the line—there is no separate kind of token. In terms of the Changes it is called a hexagram; in terms of the elixir way it is called a token—hence it is said that tokens are the sixty-four hexagrams. When the hexagram reaches Zhen, where yang first arises, the firing advances to the token of one yang. At this time the divine chamber (the alchemical vessel—in internal alchemy, the place in the body where essence is refined) nurtures the essence, and gold and fire push each other in circulation. The male is yang—that is the dragon; the female is yin—that is the tiger. What is called “sowing and spreading” is the dragon soaring to heaven and sending down rain; what is called “transforming into the yellow wrapping” is the tiger entering the rear earth and producing gold. This is the scene of heaven entering earth and chaos joining. Thus from first laying the foundation, one adds cultivation and nurtures the Yin’e (the outer rampart that guards the elixir foundation). Once spirit is fixed, form naturally completes. From the great—heaven and earth—to the small—creeping things—whatever has form and qi, none is not born from this. Only to bring this single point forth outward is to flow from root to branch, becoming the way of unceasing generation; to bring this single point forth inward is to return to the source, becoming the way of long life and transcendence.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: Confucius stated that among changes and transformations, none is greater than the four seasons, and among celestial phenomena that hang high and shine forth, none is more magnificent than the sun and moon. Master Xu emphasized this point and developed it further. This book takes the images of sun and moon to illustrate yin and yang. When sun and moon are attached to heaven, there are new moon, full moon, opposition, and conjunction; when yin and yang operate in the world, there is compliance and reversal, generation and completion. The day embodies pure yang qi and is called the Great Yang; the moon embodies pure yin essence and is called the Great Yin. The circuit of heaven totals three hundred sixty-five and one-quarter degrees. Each day and night heaven completes one revolution, which is one day. The sun advances one degree per day; after thirty degrees that is one month. The moon advances more than thirteen degrees per day; one circuit of heaven by the moon is called one month, and one degree per day is called one day. The sun joins with the essences of the five planets: in the zi, chou, and yin months it aligns with the north; in the mao, chen, and si months with the west; in the wu, wei, and shen months with the south; and in the you, xu, and hai months with the east. In the time of Yao the heart of heaven was established at the zi position; in the jiachen year at the winter solstice the sun stood at the xu lodge, paired with the rat. In the Han Taichu calendar at the winter solstice the sun stood at qianniu (Ox); in the Tang Dayan calendar at the winter solstice at dongdou (Eastern Dipper); from the Song onward at the winter solstice at nanji (Southern Sieve). This is precession of the equinoxes—the winter solstice point gradually shifts. When the sun obtains fire and earth its radiance becomes finer; when it obtains metal and water its colors stand out more. The moon marks time by the six pitch-pipes: the pipes belong to yang, the pitch-classes (lü) to yin; one with five and one with six together make thirty. When thirty degrees are complete, sun and moon meet again, hence the saying that when the count is exhausted it begins anew. As sun and moon cycle back and forth, there are waxing, full, waning, and new moon; hence the world has alternation of cold and heat, and people have birth, aging, sickness, and death.

What is meant by exhausting the spirit to know transformation? Nothing is more spirit-like than heaven and earth; nothing is more subtle in change than yin and yang. The way of heaven turns leftward; in one day it completes one circuit, traveling more than five hundred fifty thousand li. Earth rests within this qi like a plank floating on water—it does not move by itself. The spirit of the sun is the primordial qi of heaven and earth; its form is golden, bright, and lustrous. All things rely on its yang fire and red qi to grow and bear fruit; its diameter is more than eight hundred forty-five li. It does not travel only along the yellow path and the red path; it passes inside and outside the yellow path: north of the red path the days are short, and it also reaches south of the yellow path. Why distinguish north and south, inner and outer? Because in the north lies the Purple Forbidden Enclosure (the star region near the celestial pole), with the throne of the emperor within it, so north is inner and south is outer. Its spirit-like quality cannot be exhausted—this is the spirit of the sun. The spirit of the moon is the utmost essence of heaven and earth; its form is wholly black. All things rely on the transforming nourishment of its yin water to conceive and flourish; its diameter is more than six hundred seventy li. It too does not travel only along the yellow and red paths. The yellow path and red path are like two interlocking rings, twenty-four degrees apart; the moon moves between them, about six degrees from the yellow path. Though the moon’s body is black, when it reflects the sun it becomes bright. Yuanduzi (Zhao Youqin) used the Gexiang to teach people: place a black lacquer ball under the eaves to catch the sun, and light can be cast far onto a dark wall. The moon’s body is like that ball—only when sunlight strikes it is there light; where sunlight does not strike, there is none. Hence one side is always bright and one side dark. At full moon sun and moon oppose each other; at night the moon is in the sky and the sun beneath the earth—the bright face is entirely toward the human world, the dark face entirely toward heaven, so people do not see it. At waning and new moon sun and moon share the same celestial longitude; the moon is below the sun—the bright face is entirely toward heaven, the dark face entirely toward earth. When the moon is twenty-five degrees from the sun, people see a faint glimmer; the farther it separates, the more light appears. When separation reaches more than ninety degrees, half the moon’s light is visible—this is called the “string” (first and last quarter). After full moon the light again diminishes. Thus the moon’s body has no inherent waxing and waning; it all depends on how much sunlight it receives. The foolish think that when sun and moon oppose each other they are blocked by earth, not knowing that heaven is extremely high and far, and that though yin and yang qi may seem obstructed they still connect in the dark. The shadow in the moon that looks like a blemish is the shadow of the great earth. The sun’s body is large, the moon’s small; the sun is far from heaven, the moon farther still—the moon’s changes cannot be fully described. This is the spirit of the moon. This is exhausting the spirit to know transformation.

Zi is the beginning of one yang; by si it reaches its peak, and at yang’s peak yin is born. Wu is the beginning of one yin; by hai yin reaches its peak, and at yin’s peak yang is born. Cold and heat alternate; warmth and coolness divide evenly. When yin reaches its limit yang is born; yang departs and yin arrives. Yin clings to yang like spokes gathering at a wheel hub—only then does the wheel turn. When yin gathers in, yang spreads out. The Yijing has three hundred eighty-four line positions in all. What is meant by “taking talismans according to the lines” is this: one hexagram has six lines, one line has three talismans; one day has two hexagrams, thirty-six talismans in all. When yin and yang intersect, one need not fill a whole double-hour nor exhaust one line; one double-hour has three talismans, and only one is used. When one talisman runs, one yang is born beneath the Kun hexagram and becomes Zhen. Zhen is one yang able to subdue two yin—hence the saying that Zhen comes to receive the talisman. At this moment heaven and earth join their essential qi; all things receive life from empty space. Sun and moon support each other; the sun crow and moon rabbit bind inseparably. Yang is male—firm, strong, and upright—and carries out transformation under the image of green-black; yin is female—opens change—and nurtures within the yellow. In vast obscurity and chaos the two unite. Quanyu means the first union, the first laying of foundation; its root meaning is beginning. The ancients made a balance starting from the weight (quan), and a cart starting from the carriage (yu)—to liken the first gestation of creation. Quan also means temporary; yu also means steady—meaning that for a moment’s use one must be most stable and must not stiffly topple. One cultivates this qi to nourish the embryonic outline and foundational root (yine), gathers and disperses yang essence to form the body. This chapter speaks only of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) first dividing and yin and yang beginning to run in forward order—how they produce people and the ten thousand things—so all people and every creeping creature emerge from this. People who do not understand that this is the post-heaven forward path, and who again borrow the metaphor of Chen at dawn and Meng at dusk and talk of foundation and yine, treating it as the creation of returning elixir in the cauldron, are mistaken.

Quanyangzi Yu Yan said: What the Yijing (Book of Changes) symbolizes is the union of sun and moon. Between heaven and earth, nothing is more plainly visible than the images of sun and moon; therefore they are used to instruct people, so that one may see clearly the Yin-Yang of heaven and earth and inwardly grasp the principle of wondrous transformation.

The day has five stems that are yang and five that are yin; the moon has twelve pitch-pipes, six yin and six yang. In the way of the elixir (Neidan, internal alchemy), the sun is fire and the moon is the medicine. “The day holds the essence of the Five Phases” means this single substance contains the five colors; “the moon receives the rule of the six pitch-pipes” means the white metal (the substance paired with the moon) is refined according to the six hexagrams. The sun advances one degree per day; at the thirtieth degree it joins the great yin, then the cycle begins again. Sun and moon travel along the yellow path (the track of their motion), going out and in, rising and falling in turn, expanding and contracting together, day and night revolving like a turning wheel. If one can turn back and observe the sun and moon within the body, one knows they are no different from those in heaven and earth.

The full Yijing has three hundred eighty-four lines; a single great medicine is also reckoned at three hundred eighty-four zhu (an ancient weight unit)—so one sees that the way of the elixir and the way of the Changes are one. Lines are the strokes of a hexagram; talismans are the hexagram as a whole. In elixir practice, Qian and Kun serve as the cauldron and vessel, Kan and Li as the medicines, and the other sixty hexagrams as the firing times (the rhythm of advance, retreat, and refinement). Viewed from Qian and Kun, it begins with Zhun and Meng and ends with Jiji and Weiji; among them, inverted and paired hexagrams all align—so one sees that the coming and going of one yin and one yang is the Dao.

Between the last day of the month and the first, as Qian joins Kun, Zhen is generated—like the first yang arising in the body. Then spirit and Qi intersect, Qi and spirit merge, as when heaven and earth join their essences and sun and moon form one jade disc. Heaven, earth, sun, and moon join on schedule, and so can nurture the ten thousand things and complete the year’s work; Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li join on schedule, and so can seize creation and form the sagely embryo (the inner elixir condensed from spirit and Qi). This is a metaphor drawn from the moment when sun and moon unite; it does not mean that only at new and full moon within a month can one practice.

“The male yang spreads the dark gift” is heavenly Qi descending to earth; “the female yin transforms the yellow wrapping” is earth receiving heavenly Qi and generating the ten thousand things. The Wuzhen pian says: when sweet dew falls, heaven and earth unite; when yellow sprouts appear, it is Kan and Li intersecting. In elixir method, the arising of the medicine is the same as heaven and earth nurturing the ten thousand things—nothing more than Yin-Yang transforming and giving form, dark and yellow intersecting. Yin and Yang are originally one Qi; above and below meet and blend into one, hence it is called hundun (chaos). This is the outer rampart of heaven and earth, and also the womb of the ten thousand things. The elixir way takes this as the opening to establish the foundation; then heaven, earth, and the ten thousand things are all within oneself, and one need not seek outside the body.

The crux lies in cultivating Yin’e. Yin’e is the root and stem. Working here, turning the light inward (directing mind-spirit toward the interior), spirit clings to Qi and condenses, Qi clings to spirit and stays—then they naturally join and form the embryo. This path is the source of generation and transformation. Not only humans and beasts are born from it; flying insects, crawling creatures, and every breathing, walking creature is the same. Only this living force, applied to birth, produces a person; preserved in oneself, it produces the medicine—with the difference between sage and ordinary person, reversal and the ordinary course. That is truly the origin of human birth.

Confucius praised Hongmeng (primordial chaos before heaven and earth were divided): the virtue of Qian and Kun runs through the void. When we trace antiquity, we are in the age of the Primordial Sovereign; Guan Ju (the opening poem of the Book of Odes, standing for husband and wife) sets the beginning—cap rites and wedding rites tie qi to one another, and by the “first year” growth sprouts and spreads. Sage and ordinary person, reversal (return cultivation) and compliance (following worldly human relations) may differ, but the human Way truly starts here.

Perfect Unity Master Peng Xiao said: Confucius praised the Way of the Changes, taking Qian and Kun as the head of the ten thousand things and Xian and Heng (the pair of hexagrams for husband and wife) as the root of the marital bond. To open Hongmeng, break open chaos, show the affective face of spirit, and join heaven-and-earth feeling is to gather in one place the pivot of ruler and minister, father and son, husband and wife, male and female, the mutual generation and restraint of the Five Phases, and the turning of the ten thousand things—this is Qian and Kun revealing their hollow subtlety. Xu Congshi therefore took the Changes as allegory, set up the cauldron-vessel (in neidan, the human body as furnace), stirred the celestial mechanism, and brought Dragon and Tiger (Yin and Yang qi) together into form, uniting them as the body of husband and wife. At first there was no form at all, as in Hongmeng chaos; once fire was raised and the talismans were run (advancing by firing phases), the essences and qi of male and female knotted together—hence the mutual yearning of Guan Ju and the mutual seeking of cap and wedding. From the first lighting of fire it answers to the sprouting of the “first year”; the bodies of sun and moon (“the sun abides, the moon goes”) and the bodies of Dragon and Tiger are then complete.

Bao Yizi Chen Xianwei said: When form and Qi (innate vital energy) are not yet present, this is called Hongmeng (primordial chaos before heaven and earth opened); when they are present but not yet separated, this is called Hunlun (undifferentiated oneness). The Yijing says: “The Yi has Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), and from this arise the two aspects.” The Yi is like Hongmeng; Taiji is like Hunlun. Qian and Kun are the transformation of Taiji: united they are Taiji; separated they become Qian and Kun. Thus, speaking of union we call it Hunlun; speaking of separation we call it Heaven and Earth. Confucius expounded the Yi, placing Qian and Kun first as the gateway into its meaning—using the empty, luminous virtue of Qian and Kun to hold the undivided Yi of Hongmeng. The Guanju ode stands first; its theme of marriage takes yin and yang as two breaths knotted together. Before Qian and Kun separate it is Hunlun; when yin and yang are bound together it is called Shichu (the very first beginning). Liezi said: “Tai Chu is the beginning of Qi; Tai Shi is the beginning of form.” So Guanju establishes Shichu.

Golden Elixir is what the Lord of Great Primordial (Taiyi Yuanjun) took from the Qi of undivided Qian and Kun and undivided yin and yang, refined into true mercury, and smelted into true elixir. Hence it is said, “The one breath before heaven, essence of primordial chaos,” and again, “There was something formless yet complete, born before Heaven and Earth.” The Jinbi Jing says: “The Yuanjun first refined mercury; the spirit chamber (shenshi, the empty chamber where the furnace is set) held within it emptiness and luminosity; from the dark-white arose the Metal Lord (Jingong, true yang), majestically establishing Shichu.” The key to be strictly guarded lies here. Yuan nian is the first year. In the first year of practice, the yellow sprout (huangya, the first sign of the elixir) appears and the Golden Elixir is complete. Those who study the Way should watch the season and the right moment, apply effort in time, and gather the supreme treasure to form the elixir head (dantou, the initial foundation of the elixir). Once the elixir head is obtained, one naturally guards the celestial mechanism in silence and can at once ascend to the sacred realm.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: The Commentaries on the Changes state that “the Changes has the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), from which the two modes (Yin-Yang) arise.” This is Confucius praising the undivided primordial chaos before the cosmos took shape. The virtue of Qian and Kun is chaotic and mysteriously subtle; Yuanhuang is none other than Pangu at the very opening of heaven and earth—here Confucius is examining antiquity. Guan Ju treats the proper way of relations between men and women; it is also the opening chapter for the capping and wedding rites of husband and wife. When Confucius arranged the Book of Odes, he placed marriage first to rectify Yin-Yang and establish the great Way without deviation. Confucius wrote commentaries on the Changes and put Qian and Kun at the head to show that firmness and yielding must work together.

The Xici says: The Changes matches heaven and earth, and therefore can encompass the Way of heaven and earth; looking up to observe celestial patterns and looking down to inspect terrestrial forms, one thereby understands what is hidden and what is manifest; probing the beginning and returning to observe the end, one thereby knows the principles of death and life. What is “probing the beginning”? It is following the Way of Yin-Yang to generate people and things; hence at the time of capping and wedding rites the Qi intertwines and binds—this is called knowing “life.” What is “returning to the end”? It is being able to reverse course along the pre-heaven Way, leave the ordinary behind and enter sagehood; hence the “first year” when buds first sprout—this is called knowing “death.”

Quanyangzi Yu Yan said: Thus the Changes opens with Qian and Kun; the Documents speaks of examining antiquity; the Odes puts Guan Ju first; the Rites gives priority to capping and wedding ceremonies; the Spring and Autumn Annals takes the “first year” as its primary theme. When the sages composed the classics, each had a entrusted starting point. Can the methods of elixir cultivation fail to treat their beginning with utmost care?

Sages do not arise from nowhere. When one looks up at the heavens, the celestial signs (tianfu)—the omens written in the sky—stand out plainly. Those signs advance and retreat; their stretching and bending all turn with the seasons. That is why the Yijing (Book of Changes) gathers up the heart of Heaven: yang qi first stirs in the hexagram Fu (Return), when a single yang line comes back. Zhen (Thunder), the eldest son, takes on the body of the father Qian (Heaven) and, leaning on the mother Kun (Earth), fixes the first footing of the process. The waxing and waning of yin and yang answer to the pitch pipes; rising and falling follow the pivot of the Big Dipper’s handle.

On the third day of the month the new crescent appears—what is called “shuang” (the first sliver). Zhen “receives” the stem Geng and shows in the west. On the eighth, Dui receives Ding; the first-quarter moon runs straight like a cord. On the fifteenth the Qian body is complete: the moon is full, “receives” Jia, and stands in the east. The toad and the jade rabbit share the disk of the moon; the qi of sun and moon brighten each other. The toad watches the hexagram’s junctures; the jade rabbit sends out its light. When the counts of seven and eight are used up, the phase of the moon bends and sinks.

On the sixteenth the thread of succession passes to Xun; Xun receives Xin and can be seen at daybreak. Gen receives Bing and sits in the south; the twenty-third is the last quarter. On the thirtieth Kun receives Yi, and the moon loses its light in the northeast—“In the northeast, losing one’s companions” (Kun). When the seasonal nodes are spent, one phase hands off to the next; from the successor body the “dragon” is born again.

Ren and Gui pair with Jia and Yi—that is, Qian receives Jia and Ren, Kun receives Yi and Gui—so Qian and Kun wrap the whole course from start to finish. Seven and eight make fifteen; nine and six answer each other as well. The four figures add to thirty, exactly one lunar month. At that point yang qi is spent and goes into extinction and storage. Internal alchemy (Neidan) often reads the waxing and waning of the moon in just this way to feel out the firing times (huohou) of practice.

Zhen Yizi Peng Xiao (a fifth-century Daoist priest who styled himself Zhen Yizi) said: The sage Fuxi looked up to observe the heavens and looked down to survey the earth, fixed the hexagrams and numbers of the Yi (Book of Changes), understood the true nature of the myriad things, and left this knowledge for later generations so that those not yet versed in it could thereby grasp the vital points of heaven and earth, obtain the essence of yin and yang, know the root of creation and transformation, and discern how talisman signs and phenomena correspond. Generation and overcoming, advance and retreat, bending and straightening—all can be held in the hand; hence it is said that the Yi embraces the heart of heaven. Therefore one establishes symbolic forms, gathers the most refined substances, prepares the cauldron and furnace, turns the talisman fire according to the nodes, follows the water clock to mark the hours, runs the hexagram lines, arranges the time periods, distinguishes the seasonal nodes, and thus exhausts the great reckoning of heaven and earth.

“Fu hexagram establishes the first sprouting; the eldest son inherits the father’s form; through the mother the auspicious foundation is laid”: In Kun, where all six lines are yin, when the bottom line first changes to yang, it becomes the Fu hexagram—hence “the beginning of sprouting.” This is one yang line of Qian appearing below Kun; the lower trigram becomes Zhen. Kun is the mother that bears Zhen, hence “through the mother the auspicious foundation is laid.” Zhen is the eldest son of Qian; thereafter it gradually changes with time until on the fifteenth day it becomes pure Qian; Qian is the father, hence “inherits the father’s form.”

This also resembles the moon from the third day showing its form and shadow, until the eighth day it is the first quarter—yang number has reached half—an analogy for gold and water (the two medicines) each occupying half in the cauldron. On the fifteenth day the moon is full, rising in the east; the toad and the hare’s brilliance (ancient images for the moon’s shadow and light) shine together—an analogy for gold and water full in the cauldron and the firing schedule already corresponding.

Master Xu (an earlier commentator) borrowed this hexagram image to liken the moon’s growth, compressing the three phases of half a month into half a day’s six double-hours, advancing yang fire, adding and subtracting in the cauldron according to the firing phases, so that within it receives the fire talisman—hence this change of sprouting.

“Seven-eight’s way is finished” means that on the fifteenth day the Qian body is already complete. “Bending low and descending” refers below to after the sixteenth day, when yang fire is reduced and yin talisman is used instead. “At sixteen, turning to receive the succession” means that after the sixteenth day yang fire begins to wane and yin talisman begins to arise. “Xun and Xin appear at daybreak”—the situation is also like when yang fire first enters, the same as the moon’s birth in the first third of the month. The last quarter on the twenty-third day has the same meaning as the first quarter: again gold and water each half. “Kun and Yi, the thirtieth day; in the northeast it loses its companion” (borrowing language from the Kun hexagram in the Yi) means that by then yin talisman has fully consumed yang fire. Because within one month yin and yang are each half, yin and yang alternate in succession and water and fire depend on each other; when the month ends, it returns to the beginning again, starting anew with Fu—hence “inherits the body and again gives birth to the dragon” (yang qi reborn).

Ren and Gui belong to yin; Jia and Yi belong to yang. Yin and yang pair with each other—meaning the alchemical mother in the Qian-Kun cauldron receives the merging qi of the yang dragon and yin tiger (images for the two qi or two medicines)—hence “Qian and Kun encompass beginning and end.” Seven, eight, nine, and six together make thirty days. In these thirty days, seven and nine correspond to yang numbers, six and eight to yin numbers; Qian and Kun each hold half; by the thirti day all is used up, and yin talisman and yang fire both reach the balanced point.

Chen Weixian, Master Baoyizi, explains: What manifests the tianfu—heaven’s seasonal signs—is the sun and moon. Their advance and retreat, extension and contraction, correspond to the rise and fall of yin and yang and the mutual transformation of coming and going in the Yi (Change). Thus the Yi embraces the heart of heaven; the sages who composed it performed great merit for the world—it was not empty talk.

The Dao appears in zaohua (the generative transformation of nature), yet zaohua is extremely hard to fathom. Whoever can glimpse zaohua and measure its pivot can probe the subtlety of the Dao and take its practical power—the Daoist notion of “daoji” (grasping creation’s hidden mechanism). Unless one is a true immortal or supreme sage, who could do this? The ancient sages’ humane care for the world is beyond ordinary reckoning. Having measured creation’s pivot to benefit themselves, they also clarified creation’s wonder to benefit others. What the mind knows and the intent grasps must be shown to others; without images and written words, how could it be unfolded so people might silently recognize it?

So, looking up and looking down, nothing in heaven and earth displays creation’s working more clearly than the sun and moon; among the classics, nothing carries creation’s subtle principle more fully than the Yi hexagrams. When the waxing and waning of the sun and moon are set beside the shifting lines of the trigrams, nothing fails to cross-check and agree. This is why the Cantong Qi (Token for the Agreement of the Three) was written: to can (join) the principle of the great Yi, tong (unite with) the wonder of zaohua, and qi (accord with) the way of the Golden Elixir (the great elixir).

When one yang is first born, the hexagram is Fu (Thunder below, Earth above). Zhen (Thunder) is the eldest son; Kun is the mother, Qian the father. Fu was originally pure Kun; one yang comes from Qian, and the bottom line becomes Zhen—hence “establishing the foundation through the mother.” Zhen already partly bears Qian’s form; as two yang then three yang accumulate, Qian’s body is complete—hence “the eldest son inherits the father’s body.” “Message and response match the pitch pipes” means one line is added each month; “according to the Dipper’s pivot” means one line advances each double-hour.

On the third of each month, the moon is faintly visible in the west at the geng position, matching Zhen’s first yang; in najia (assigning the ten stems to the eight trigrams), Zhen takes the six geng—creation’s pattern fits thus. On the eighth, the moon at south in ding shows the first quarter, matching Dui’s two yang; Dui takes the six ding. By the fifteenth, the moon is full in the east at jia; Qian takes the six jia, the trigram holds three yang, and both the jade hare and toad are at full strength. The toad is the essence of metal qi; it waxes with the hexagram’s seasonal nodes. The jade hare is the soul of mao wood; it faces the sun and emits light. Seven and eight make fifteen; the “three-five” path is complete—then what was full turns to wane, what extended turns to bend, what was high turns low, what rose turns to fall.

On the sixteenth one yin is born; yin begins to rule. At dawn the moon appears in the west at xin, matching Xun taking xin; on the twenty-third at dawn it appears south at bing, matching Gen taking bing; on the thirtieth the moon sets in the east at yi, matching Kun taking yi. When the seasonal nodes are exhausted, they pass the mandate again and yang rules anew. “The successor body gives birth to the dragon”—the dragon is Zhen. Among the eight trigrams, only Kan and Li are not listed among these six trigrams’ directional comings and goings; their rising and falling within the six is the “two functions” of Kan and Li. The work of Kan and Li is truly vast.

Qian takes the six jia and six ren; Kun takes the six yi and six gui. Of the eight trigrams, only Qian and Kun each take two stems; the rest take one each—hence “ren and gui paired with jia and yi, Qian and Kun embracing beginning and end,” to show that within Qian and Kun there is true water. Young yang counts seven, young yin eight—together fifteen; old yang nine, old yin six—together fifteen. The four sum to thirty, matching the days of a month. Seven, eight, nine, and six are the four images. The great Yi’s principle and creation’s principle never disagree. At the thirtieth the moon sets and yang qi wanes, hides, and extinguishes; beyond that, one yang is born again. Thus the cycle turns, ending only to begin again.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: When the sage descends into the world, he looks up to observe celestial patterns and looks down to examine terrestrial configurations, finely distinguishing Yin and Yang. He treats Yin as the fu (the token of advance and retreat) and Yang as ming (life and nature). Looking upward at the manifest celestial fu, this means: Yin qi between Heaven and Earth is called the celestial fu; Yang qi between Heaven and Earth is called celestial ming. In the human body, Yin is called the fire fu (the alchemical “fire phases” governing Yin-Yang advance and retreat in neidan), and Yang is called xingming (nature and life). When Yin and Yang bend and stretch, the fu is the sign of advance and retreat; once the fu-signs are accurate, one does not miss the timely moment.

Therefore the teaching of the Yijing (Classic of Changes) is gathered into the Heart of Heaven (tianxin, the hub of the Way’s operation in Heaven). The Heart of Heaven is the correct position of the Qian hexagram. Zi (the moment when one Yang is first born at the winter solstice) is precisely the Heart of Heaven—the gateway where Yang qi arises. Qian is purely Yang; the celestial fu is also purely Yang. When Qian Yang is first generated beneath two Yin lines, it becomes the Zhen hexagram—Zhen is the eldest son. When Yang is born again from within Kun, it is the Fu hexagram: Fu is one Yang hidden beneath five Yin. Kun is the mother; hence it is said that one relies on the Kun mother to establish the root of initiation.

The pitch-pipes harmonize with the Dipper’s pivot: this means the Yellow Bell (huangzhong, the first of the twelve pitch standards) is fixed at zi, and the handle of the Northern Dipper also takes the zi month as its starting point—both correspond to the time when one Yang first sprouts.

On the third day after new moon, in the afternoon, a faint Yang in the moon is born in the southwest and also beneath the moon’s body—an image of Zhen—so it is said that Zhen pairs with the heavenly stem geng and appears in the west. On the eighth day at first quarter, the Dui hexagram receives ding fire; Yang rises halfway, straight as a cord. At the fifteenth, full moon, the sun is in the west and the moon in the east; the jade rabbit expends its light completely, Yang is full and round, and the hexagram body becomes Qian. At dawn on the sixteenth day, the Xun hexagram appears in the xin direction; the yin fu wraps Yang qi so it does not scatter and run off. On the twenty-third, the yin fu half-wraps its light; brilliance stops at last quarter. The Kun hexagram pairs with the stem yi on the thirtieth day—the moon’s body is wholly dark, white exhausted and black pure; light turns to face Heaven. “In the northeast one loses companions”: the northeast belongs to Gen, homeland of the Ji constellation (northern water asterism); Gen is the ghost path (where Yang is exhausted and qi is depleted).

Corresponding to the human body: when gui (Water of Life) is full the channel flows, and qi is then depleted; when the seasonal node is spent and gui water is exhausted, one Yang is born anew. Therefore ren and gui are paired with jia and yi, like Qian beginning and then returning. The numbers seven, eight, nine, and six reach their end at thirty; when they end they become Kun, and true qi returns to storage within.

Quanyangzi (the style name of Yu Yan) Yu Yan said: The subtleties of fire timing are in places hard to state plainly. Ancient adepts who attained the Way observed celestial patterns and set up symbolic forms to instruct people: they likened heaven and earth to the cauldron and vessel, the sun and moon to the medicinals, and the sun and moon’s coming and going to the fire phases.

The moon moves through the sky and meets the sun roughly once a month—this is the celestial tally (tianfu, the sign that heavenly time matches hexagram qi). What is called “responding to the moment” is the twelve double-hours of one day. After the first day of the month, moonlight gradually increases, hun grows and po diminishes, yin retreats and yang advances—like one day from the zi hour through the si hour. After the sixteenth day, moonlight gradually wanes, po grows and hun diminishes, yin advances and yang retreats—like from the wu hour through the hai hour. The advance, retreat, bending, and stretching of fire timing follow the same pattern.

“Change” (yi) means yin turning into yang. After the tenth month, one yang returns and the “heart of heaven” can be seen. The heart of heaven sits at the center of the northern zi position. The Fu hexagram is the hexagram of the eleventh month, right at the center of northern zi, its seasonal node matching Winter Solstice; the accumulated bottom yang line is why it is called Fu (Return). This pivot is not at the first quarter of the zi hour on Winter Solstice day—it is in one’s own body. Only someone who deeply penetrates creation’s workings can know this secret.

When a line of Qian descends to the first line of Kun the mother, it becomes Zhen. Zhen is the eldest son, hence “the eldest son inherits the father’s body.” Zhen arises from Kun’s body, like an infant born in the mother’s womb—hence “relying on the mother to establish the foundation.” Those who study the Way, understanding this, know that in refining the elixir one need not seek Winter Solstice elsewhere: within the body one yang arises on its own, without being bound to year, month, day, or hour.

From zi to si is growth (xi); from wu to hai is decline (xiao). Growth and decline correspond to pitch pipes: the twelve pitch tubes change one tube per month; in a year all twelve are used—fire timing’s growth and decline work the same way. Bottom to top is ascent; top to bottom is descent. Ascent and descent follow the Dipper’s pivot (dou shu): the pivot shifts one position each double-hour and traverses all twelve branches in a day—fire timing’s ascent and descent do likewise. Turn inward and seek this in yourself, and you can silently grasp the subtlety.

On the third day of each month, the new moon first shows light at dusk in the western geng position, the image like Zhen—corresponding to Zhen’s na geng in the na jia (hexagram–stem matching) system. For fire timing in the body, this is when the River Chariot (he che, qi circulating along the channels) must not pause for an instant. By the eighth day it is first quarter; at dusk in the southern ding position, the image like Dui—Dui na ding—meaning one’s yang fire has risen halfway. By the fifteenth the moon faces the sun; at dusk in the eastern jia position, the image like Qian—Qian na jia—meaning one’s yang qi is full.

The toad is the moon’s essence; the hare’s brilliance is the sun’s light. Sun and moon do not blaze together at once: the sun illumines the bright day, the moon the dark night. When the sun rises the moon hides; when the moon rises the sun hides—day and night take turns shining, going out and in, expanding and contracting. Human breath is sun and moon; there is no difference.

The elixir method takes the first half of the month as yang, belonging to Zhen, Dui, and Qian; the second half as yin, to Xun, Gen, and Kun—hence “watch the moon’s phases against the hexagram measures.” The moon is great yin, chiefly receiving; the sun is great yang, chiefly emitting. The moon has no light of its own; it whitens by receiving sunlight—so light is born from emission.

Seven and eight make fifteen. Yang fire ascends from Zhen; by the fifteenth it becomes pure Qian—the first half month’s fire timing is full; at the peak of momentum danger appears, and one must bend back and turn to descent. On the sixteenth the moon’s soul (po) has been born; at dawn in the western xin position light begins to wane, the image like Xun—Xun na xin. For body fire timing, this is when yin receives yang’s yielding and turns to descent. By the twenty-third it is last quarter; at dawn in the southern bing position, half the light is gone, the image like Gen—Gen na bing—meaning one’s yin tally (the descending fire phase paired with yang fire) has descended halfway. By the thirtieth it is dark; at dawn in the eastern yi position, light is wholly hidden, the image like Kun—Kun na yi—meaning one’s yin tally has reached its end.

One month divides into six nodes of five days each. From the first day, five days belong to Zhen, then through Dui, Qian, Xun, Gen, and Kun—the six nodes are complete. After sun and moon conjoin at new moon, yang again receives yin’s yielding and returns to Zhen. Zhen is the dragon, because one yang stirs beneath two yin.

Qian takes jia and ren; Kun takes yi and gui—hence “mutual pairing.” The ten heavenly stems run from jia and yi to ren and gui—hence “embracing beginning and end.” Thus the adding and subtracting (choutian) of fire timing in the body is no different from the moon’s waxing and waning.

Seven is the number of fire, eight of wood—together fifteen; nine is metal, six water—together also fifteen. All four sum to thirty, matching thirty days in a month. When thirty is complete, sun and moon unite in one disk and the Change images withdraw and are stored away.

The scripture uses mid-winter as a metaphor. In the depth of winter, all plants and trees wither and are stripped bare. At this time one must support the newly arising Yang, restrain travelers and merchants so they do not come and go at will, and the sovereign also hides himself deeply. In action one should take the seasons as model and follow the qi nodes; keep the mouth closed and speak little. The Way of Heaven is vast and boundless; the Great Mystery (Tai Xuan—the deepest, subtlest, formless Dao) has no shape or appearance, is empty and still and cannot be seen, and the outer frame and outline likewise vanish. If understanding goes wrong and loses the thread, words in turn will cause one to fail and be harmed. Therefore the four images (four symbolic forms) are set forth in order to guide those who come later and do not yet understand.

Zhen Yizi Peng Xiao (fifth-century Daoist priest) said: The firing times of the elixir (the rhythm of advancing, retreating, and nurturing the fire) sometimes resemble branches and stems spreading luxuriantly, sometimes ripe fruit in abundance, sometimes plants and trees falling away—all corresponding to the opening and closing of mid-winter; aligning with the season depends entirely on moving the fire to harmonize. “Supporting Yang” and “restraining travelers and merchants” mean closing the pass and stopping movement, symbolizing firmly sealing the cauldron-vessel (the furnace and vessel used in alchemy; in neidan, the body’s inner furnace and vessel) so that true essence and true qi do not leak. “The sovereign hides deeply” refers to the golden mother of the central palace (true Yin dwelling in the center, presiding over generation and transformation). “Keeping the mouth closed and not speaking” refers to the chamber of Dui metal (Dui is the mouth and metal in the trigrams, symbolizing sealing). “The Way of Heaven is vast” means transformations in the cauldron have no limit; “the Great Mystery is formless” means the fluid produced by the transformation of metal and water cannot be measured, operates hiddenly without end, and spirit-transformation has no fixed direction. As the four seasons turn, the outer form disappears and the form of metal and water changes. Master Xu said: The Dao nurtures all things; the true lord is originally without form. If one does not use symbolic forms to harmonize Yin and Yang, constrain and align them, and let them transform hiddenly in accord with the celestial mechanism, how could one draw the essences of sun and moon to linger in the cauldron chamber so near at hand and accomplish subtle transformation? Once the thread is wrong, failure and harm are certain. Hence this text was written to awaken those who come later and have not yet grasped it.

Baoyizi Chen Xianwei (Southern Song Daoist priest) said: In mid-winter all things return to root; at this time creation and transformation are hard to fathom. Observing the Way of Heaven, it is blocked and closed, vast and unknowable; examining the Great Mystery, it is empty, still, and hidden, with no image to see. On what basis, then, can one measure the pivot of creation and transformation? Master Xu separately expounded the four images to instruct those who come later; details appear in the next chapter.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu (Yuan Dynasty Daoist priest) said: From “Taking mid-winter as the image” through “to awaken the blind who come after,” these fourteen lines still lack commentary.

Quanyangzi Yu Yan said: In the language of the elixir method, “winter solstice,” “the last day of the lunar month,” and “the first day of the month” are all metaphors for the moment when yin reaches its limit and yang begins to stir. By mid-winter, grass and trees wither and die. The Fu hexagram in the Book of Changes says: “Thunder in the earth—this is Return. The ancient kings closed the passes on the day of the winter solstice; merchants and travelers did not go abroad, and the ruler did not tour the realm.” This is quiet nurturing of the life-force about to rise, in accord with Heaven’s way; what Fu represents is yang just beginning to germinate beneath the earth.

Though Heaven’s way is vast, its true pivot lies in an instant; though the Great Void has no form, its subtlety is hidden in depth and dimness. Therefore, at the time symbolized by “midday” and “winter solstice,” one must first close the mouth (bi se qi dui), clarify the mind, and hold in silent stillness, so that gold and mercury return together to the furnace. Like sun and moon forming one jade disk, their outlines hidden, sinking into the empty cavern—only then can spirit coalesce and qi gather, and the golden fluid congeal. In the oral formulas of cultivating the elixir, gathering qi and concentrating spirit is the first essential.

Students who do not understand gathering qi and concentrating spirit, who forget to close the mouth and keep silence and let breath pour out from the “multi-story tower” (the throat), fall into stubborn void—dull as withered wood and dead ash—and bring failure upon themselves.

Later students who did not receive this secret key led one another like the blind leading the blind, mistaking the waxing and waning of the moon on the third day of the month for the rhythm of firing through a whole month (the advance and retreat of the fire). So they further explained the four images of seven, eight, nine, and six—young yang, young yin, old yang, old yyin—whose four numbers sum to thirty—to guide those who still did not understand, so people could see: the so-called thirty days of a month are entirely metaphor, not that one must truly advance the fire on the third of the month and receive the talisman on the sixth. Once you know that seven, eight, nine, and six are exactly those thirty days, the rest of the comparisons and roundabout figures can also be understood inwardly—why cling to the letter and surface images?

The Bagua (Eight Trigrams) are arrayed in their positions; the courses of sun, moon, and stars never stray from the center. Primordial essence (yuán jīng—the hidden, hard-to-see true essence of vital Qi in the cauldron) is vast and elusive; one can only infer its measure and confirm it by matching tally and verification. When settling it in place, observe its images and compare their forms; set up the gnomon and table as standard, and read climate to fix fortune and misfortune. Issuing commands must follow the seasons—do not miss the moment when the yao lines shift. Look up to the patterns of the River of Heaven, trace the veins of the land below, and in the middle examine the human heart, cross-checking the three powers (tiān, dì, rén—Heaven, Earth, and humanity). In movement, heed the hexagram’s rhythm; in stillness, rely on the Tuan (judgment texts). When Qian and Kun can operate, Heaven and Earth at last come to rest.

Zhenyi Zi Peng Xiao said: Within a month, every turn of firing (yùn huǒ—nurturing by alchemical “fire phases”) must follow the Bagua and the stars’ courses. Between zi and wu and between east and west, one adds, subtracts, raises, and lowers (chōu tiān shēng jiàng—adjusting fire phases and “raising/lowering” the medicinals); only then do Yin and Yang expand and contract properly, and Metal and Water harmonize. If firing is mistimed, flood and drought lose measure, the logic of generation is flawed, and the forms of Dragon and Tiger (the paired Yin-Yang substances) are hard to hold—those who tend the fire must reflect carefully. Primordial essence is the luminous true essence in the cauldron—that is, the vital Qi of Heaven and Earth; though it cannot be grasped or seen, it secretly follows the pivot of creation to generate the ten thousand things. Because it is deep and hidden, one should seek its effects, match tally and proof, establish the table as law, and issue commands in accord with celestial tallies. Thus one looks up to astronomy and looks down to geography, aligning with the hun and po of Heaven and Earth and tuning the wax and wane of Yin and Yang; establishing the three powers and fixing decline and ascendancy (xiū and wàng). By hexagram images and yao texts, distinguish early from late, arrange ascent and descent—then Qian and Kun are at peace, husband and wife (the paired principles) unite, and Dragon and Tiger meet. All of this means: timing tally-fire by clepsydra marks, distinguishing add-from-subtract and advance-from-retreat, never missing the sun, moon, and stars’ degrees—then within the cauldron the divine essence that generates the ten thousand things through the four seasons can appear.

Baoyizi Chen Xiwei (Baoyizi was Chen Xiwei’s religious epithet) said: When the cycling of movement and transformation does not stray from the central alignment, one can accord with zaohua—the generative and transformative processes of heaven and earth—without error, responding in harmony with the hexagrams and lines of the Yijing without disorder. Yuan jing (original essence) is a treasure of utmost numinosity and spirit; it arises from emptiness and nothingness, with no visible form, and hides within vagueness and indistinction, with no trace to be found. To gather it, one must thoroughly grasp Yin-Yang, penetrate deeply into zaohua, infer its signs and verification, and follow the established methods. In stillness, observe phenomena and liken them to its form; in action, erect the gnomon—the pole used to read celestial timing—and divinage fortune and misfortune. Look upward to inspect the patterns of heaven, look downward to observe the seasonal signs of tides, and in between examine the human heart-mind. One must also act according to the measure of the hexagrams: when Yang arrives, move, and do not miss the moment when the line-images shift; act according to the Tuan commentary—the text that explains each hexagram’s meaning—when Yin arrives, be still, and do not lose the principle of utmost yielding that harbors inner radiance. Then the function of Qian and Kun is carried out through oneself, and the essence of numinous spirit can be gathered. Moreover, when the eight winds are in harmony, sweet dew will descend; when Yin and Yang are properly nurtured, sweet spring water will well up. All of these are signs that heaven and earth are well ordered.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: From this we can see how the eight trigrams are arranged: Qian and Kan in the north, Gen and Zhen in the east, Xun and Li in the south, Kun and Dui in the west. The stars interweave and shift in their courses, all without straying from the center. This “center” is the heart of heaven (tianxin)—the utmost pole of centrality. Primordial essence (yuanjing), the finest breath of origin, is dim and hidden; the eye cannot see it. The sage born of heaven measures and calculates, tests by actual results, and confirms by signs and responses. He observes the forms of sun and moon and compares their patterns—like the astronomer who sets up the gnomon and measures shadow length, fixes the standard, and thereby infers the seasons and judges fortune and misfortune. Once the command is issued, it must accord with the season; when matched against the changing lines, one knows that yang qi has already arisen. Looking upward, he clarifies the Hetu (the legendary diagram of cosmic numbers) and the yin–yang union symbolized by Qian; looking downward, he sorts out the terrain and examines in detail the body of Kun and the subtle changes of metal and water; in the middle he inspects the human heart and issues commands in due season. In movement he follows the trigram’s rhythm, with Fu and Zhen leading; in stillness he relies on the Judgment: “How great is Qian’s origin! Clouds pass, rain falls, the myriad things come to life and flow; it holds and expands, bright and vast; yielding, fitting, and upright.” Once astronomy is clear, terrain is set, and the heart is upright, the gate of Qian and Kun applies yin and yang so that heaven, earth, humanity, and the ten thousand things are all governed naturally. This section borrows the image of the sage examining antiquity and observing heaven to explain how sun and moon unite as one and how Qian and Kun act—so that people may distinguish yin and yang, know advance and retreat, and understand creation and transformation, comparing forms, matching seasons, and being careful in movement and stillness. Acting thus is like governing the heaven-and-earth within the body. It is not about dragon and tiger, nor about adding and withdrawing in the cauldron.

Quanyangzi Yu Yan said: In viewing the elixir method, the eight directions are laid out according to the eight trigrams, and the twenty-eight lunar mansions ring the four sides. Yet the comings and goings of sun and moon all turn toward the yellow path (the sun’s track among the stars), never leaving the center—then the heart-ape (the restless, scattering mind) will not run outward, and the elixir can naturally congeal. The Daodejing says: In depth and darkness there is essence; this essence is utterly real; within it is trustworthiness. The primordial essence in the person is subtle and dim; the eye cannot see it—yet the elixir method accords with heaven-and-earth’s creation and transformation. When heaven’s trust (the timely sign of heaven-and-earth) arrives, it is like a jade bell struck once and jade caverns opening on both sides; within oneself Kan and Li intersect, both sides rise together and merge into one—this is the sign of primordial essence arising.

Moreover, in quiet dwelling and silence one contemplates Qian’s Image: “Heaven’s movement is strong and unceasing; the noble person therefore ceaselessly strengthens himself.” This takes heaven’s movement as a likeness for its character. The elixir method does not cling to rigid clock-hours, yet when spirit and qi are harmonized, inner and outer correspond; if spirit is dull and qi restless, the hours and marks go wrong—so one cannot fail to fix them. Therefore one must, like the heaven-official who sets the gnomon and measures shadow to establish the norm, then gauge whether the fire phases (the rhythm of advance, retreat, and nurturing) hit the center and judge fortune and misfortune. As for thunder shaking beneath the earth, the Xun gate opening, and the dragon leaping from the eastern pool—that is when the one yang line stirs within the body. Then warm qi flows in harmony; the heart feels a kind of trance—and one may advance the fire (follow this rising yang and guide qi upward); one must not delay and miss the moment. The Huanyuan pian says: When the wind of ten thousand pipes has just risen and the moon over a thousand peaks is just full, the command must be issued at once so the circuit of heaven (qi circulating along the body’s track) can turn. That is exactly this. Clearly Master Xu’s words also follow directly from the Yijing.

The meaning of the Shangqing ji is: Seeing the Big Dipper’s handle turn through the circuit of heaven, he suddenly grasped the immortal’s subtle formula—one point of true yang born in Kan’s position, filling the gap in the Li palace. From antiquity, these Kan and Li between Qian and Kun are like sun and moon, never resting. This year at winter solstice, plum blossoms still stand firm in the snow. The ancient sages on this day entered seclusion and cut off contact—all for the sake of living beings. The ten thousand things all hold the intent to give birth; the moment lies at the end of hai and the start of zi (midnight at the jiao of zi, when one yang returns). Creation is silent; fire arises from water; the mystery lies in the acupoints corresponding to the lodges Xu and Wei. Once understood, it is the golden crow (sun) flying into the toad’s cave (moon). This is also the way of heaven.

Ancient practitioners of the elixir looked up at astronomy, looked down at geography, and in the middle examined the human heart. Thus they emptied and stilled the heart, transformed and circulated spirit, turned the heaven’s gate and rotated the earth’s axis—above matching the turning of the Milky Way, below matching the rise and fall of the tides. Though heaven and earth are vast, sun, moon, stars, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), and the eight trigrams can all be gathered into the body—as furnace and cauldron, as medicine, or as fire phases. Once one turns the gaze inward, the three powers (heaven, earth, humanity) are all present in oneself; one never leaves the self to seek outside. When the dragon appears and thunder sounds, one yang stirs beneath the six yin: first change is Fu, second is Lin, third is Tai, fourth is Dazhuang, fifth is Guai, sixth is Qian. Thus yang qi pervades the six voids (the six line-positions of the hexagram). The great medicine of the golden elixir must arise in utmost stillness. Kun’s Judgment says: “How ultimate is Kun’s origin! The myriad things rely on it for life; it follows and receives heaven. Kun’s body is heavy and bears the myriad things; its virtue joins the boundless.” Kun is earth; it gathers and receives heaven’s qi, so the hundred things grow upon the ground. In the elixir method yang qi advances step by step, just as the hexagrams change in sequence; hiding spirit and returning the light inward matches Kun’s virtue—so one should follow it. Yet Kan and Li intersecting is only called the small circuit of heaven; only when Qian and Kun meet and unite—inner union and outer union—does the great circuit of heaven begin to operate. Thus yin and yang unite in peace (tai), harmonious qi brings good fortune, and heaven and earth are governed.

Among the supreme sages, none surpass Fu Xi. He was the first to draw the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), taking heaven and earth as his model. King Wen of Zhou honored this Way and called it the Small Heavenly Circulation; only when Qian and Kun meet and unite—with inner union and outer union—is the Great Heavenly Circulation put into practice. Small Heavenly Circulation and Great Heavenly Circulation refer to the greater or lesser scope of yin-yang cycling in cultivation and refinement. Thus when yin and yang flourish together, harmony brings auspiciousness, and heaven and earth find stability.

King Wen inherited this lineage, formed the hexagram bodies, and developed the line statements; Confucius was the most outstanding, using the Ten Wings to support and explain. These three were sages born of heaven, rising in succession and taking turns in ordering the world. Though superiority and inferiority had their stages, their merit was not essentially different. What they made all had continuity; their reckoning reached even to parts and minutest weights. What has form is easy to measure; what has no sign is hard to plan for. One’s work should be such that people can take it as a model, and a book was fixed for the world. Master Xu said: I had no foresight of my own; I relied entirely on my teacher Master Wei (Wei Boyang) to awaken me—bright as lifting a curtain, eyes wide open on a high platform. The six hundred sections of the Fire Records (Huo Ji) are clear in intent and do not lead one astray. The words solemnly declare this, yet people do not ponder deeply. Tracing the source, the hidden and the manifest were originally one. I speak of this privately to the worthy; how dare I lightly set it down in a book? To seal the lips and cut off the great Way would be a fault; to write on bamboo and silk would fear leaking the celestial register (tian fu). So I hesitated and sighed, and in a moment of looking up and down patched together these clumsy phrases. Smelting and refining have their methods and limits—they cannot all be told; I only sketch the main threads, and the branches and leaves show themselves in fullness.

Zhen Yizi Peng Xiao said: Master Xu praises the three sages—Fu Xi (Paoxi), King Wen, and Confucius—heaven-endowed in spirit, each with bright virtue; in unfolding the Way of Change they penetrated heaven and earth. He also sighs in looking up and down and strings together these humble lines. Smelting and refining have their methods and limits and cannot all be set forth; he briefly outlines the main threads, and the branches and leaves appear luxuriant at once.

Zhenyi Zi Peng Xiao said: Master Xu praised the three sages—Fu Xi, King Wen of Zhou, and Confucius—as endowed by Heaven with luminous intelligence, each embodying bright virtue. When they unfolded the way of the Changes (Yi), they could penetrate the real circumstances of Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things; when they edited the Classic of Poetry and the Classic of Documents, they set forth the lessons of ruler and subject and the distinctions among names and roles. They also fixed the line images and discriminated the most subtle measures, calculated and governed the circuit of the stars of heaven, and used number and principle to exhaust the Great Dao. Though Heaven and Earth are vast, the turning point between stagnation (Pi) and flourishing (Tai) cannot be concealed; though Yin and Yang are most subtle and empty, the numerology of movement and stillness cannot be hidden. Therefore the sages sought the Great Dao on this basis: taking Qian and Kun to symbolize the cauldron chamber (the place in practice where the furnace and vessel are established), so that people may embrace and guard the single Qi and honor the myriad spirits as their root; taking Yin and Yang to thread through the gnomon’s shadow and the hours, so that they traverse the six voids (the six line positions of a hexagram) and give birth to the ten thousand kinds of things. What has form and is easy to gauge is Heaven and Earth; what leaves no trace and is hard to fathom is Yin and Yang. If the three sages had not expounded the Changes, by what path would fire and water unfold? If words had not been passed down through ten thousand generations, from which gate would one control the driving of the dragon and tiger (alchemical images for the two complementary forces in practice)? Therefore it is said that people originally have no prior knowing—it is on account of this that they awaken. It is like drawing aside a curtain: at once there is brightness to behold; it is also like ascending a high terrace yet still not knowing where it ends. This is a metaphor for the way of the sages: the more one looks up, the higher it seems; the more one delves, the firmer it seems. Relying on the way of the Changes, the Huoji (fire chronology) could again be clarified. The six hundred sections of the Huoji are the great numbers of the stars’ circuit in heaven and the cycling of firing times. Morning is assigned to the Tun hexagram and evening to the Meng hexagram, each paired with one hexagram on duty—hence it is called six hundred sections. Section follows section in correspondence, so year matches month, month matches day, and day matches hour.

Baoyi Zi also said: day matches hour. Master Xu dared neither to close his mouth and obscure the Great Dao nor to write plainly on bamboo and silk and leak the celestial mechanism. Hesitating and sighing, he deeply feared it might not reach later generations; therefore he only outlined the main points and slightly exposed a branch or twig, while the remaining fine details were all preserved in the secret oral formulas.

Chen Xianwei, styled Baoyizi, said: Master Xu was gifted by nature, yet still needed his teacher’s direct instruction before he could awaken—hence his sigh that the subtle principle of the Golden Elixir has neither bodily form nor observable signs, and is truly hard to fathom. The Three Sages (Fu Xi, King Wen of Zhou, and Confucius) lodged this truth in the Yijing; the Eight Trigrams share in the mystery of creation—hexagram images point to the wonder of things already formed, while the words display what can show forth as signs—yet from the perspective of the Cantong qi, these still belong to the ordinary laws of the world. The sages scrutinized even minute measures such as fen and zhu when they composed the text, so that students might probe hidden and subtle meanings and pursue them further; alas, there were safeguards and concealments within, and the Dao lies beyond images. Without the Cantong qi, how could this deep meaning be understood? Therefore Master Xu took the classics of exhausting principle and fulfilling nature as his standard and pointed out the path of transcending the mundane to enter sagehood: like holding the left half of a tally—when the pair meets, nothing remains in dispute; like lifting the curtain before one’s eyes—the hidden is suddenly revealed. This came from transmission between master and disciple; it did not rely on one’s own prior clever insight. Thus one sees that though celestial secrets are distant, every person has a share; the Great Dao does not hide itself—each generation has those who receive it. Do not think one must from birth possess the bones of an immortal to aspire to this; once the mind is set with earnest resolve, nothing is impossible. Only after repeatedly savoring Master Xu’s modest words before and after does one see how the true persons of former ages compassionately watched over later students. Students in the world, when they see elixir scriptures and purple books (secret Daoist texts) speak of huohou (the rules for adjusting advance and retreat in practice and the strength of “fire”), set forth the work of advancing fire, retreating fire, and wenhuo and wuhuo, and also beginnings and endings, rises and stops—with doctrines that differ—rarely do they not harbor doubts. Hence the various scriptures often say that six hundred chapters record huohou. They do not realize that though the wording differs, what is guarded is one and the same principle; though the expressions vary, the function is identical. Once one understands the alternation of morning’s Zhun hexagram and evening’s Meng hexagram, one knows the cycle of daytime’s Gou hexagram and nighttime’s Fu hexagram—like turning the xuanji (instrument for observing the heavens), like following the ruts of a cart. The language, though solemn and repeated, is in truth earnest admonition. Thus six hundred chapters pervade three hundred days, never departing from the two hexagrams of advance and retreat, resting only in single-hearted sincerity from beginning to end. When mind and intent are pure and unified, not the slightest error arises. Alas—the sages’ words were never concealed; it is only because people will not think deeply that Master Xu narrated three chapters again. The three chapters are none other than one principle, meant to parse the main threads and lay out the norms so that later students may easily grasp the intent. His capacity was truly vast.

Shangyangzi Chen Zhixu said: This passage concerns how the three sages wrote books to teach and left instructions—honoring the sages of old and aligning with the intent of sages to come. Confucius says in the Ten Wings: In antiquity, when Fuxi ruled the realm, he looked up to observe the patterns of heaven and looked down to examine the laws of earth; he observed the markings of birds and beasts and how they suited the terrain; he took what was near from his own body and what was distant from the myriad things—and so he first drew the eight trigrams, to penetrate the virtue of spirit and intelligence and to classify the conditions of the ten thousand things. King Wen of Zhou joined the hexagram bodies and extended the line statements, revealing the subtlety of “in the southwest one finds companions” (from the Kun hexagram).

What does it mean to use the Ten Wings to assist the Yi? The book of the Yi: Fuxi drew the trigrams, King Wen wrote the hexagram statements, the Duke of Zhou wrote the line statements—compiled into two parts, called the main text. After the main text, Confucius added ten chapters: the Upper and Lower Commentaries on the Decision, the Great and Small Images, the Upper and Lower Appended Phrases, the Remarks on the Words, the Discussion of the Trigrams, and so on—together called the Ten Wings. They were meant to explain the Yi, yet they are not called “commentary” but “wings,” because they assist the way of change. Without the Ten Wings, how would the principle of change be made clear, how would the words connect, how would transformation be discerned, how would one take images for making implements? In cultivation, if one does not penetrate the words, one cannot attain communion of nature and disposition; if one does not understand change, one cannot grasp the transformations of metal and water (in internal alchemy, metal and water often stand for lead and mercury, Kan and Li); if one is not skilled at “making implements,” one cannot master the use of the cauldron and furnace (the furnace and cauldron refer both to alchemical vessels and to the inner “furnace and tripod” of practice); if one does not know auspice and misfortune, one cannot understand the logic of reversal and accord. The Ten Wings say “the Yi holds four ways of the sage”—this is what they mean.

Thus when the noble person is about to act or to move, he questions the Yi in words, and the response is like an echo; whether near or far, deep or hidden, he can thereby know what is to come. “Deep and hidden” means a state of dim vagueness, hard to grasp. When the noble person acts or moves, he must discern what is coming within that dim vagueness; unless one is the most subtle person under heaven, who could do this? Master Xu (Xu Congshi, traditionally linked with transmission of the Cantong Qi) said to use the Ten Wings as assistance—those words have said it fully.

The sages’ work equally reaches later generations; what is feared is that students lack great virtue and great wisdom, cannot bear the load, and are blocked layer upon layer so they never hear or see. The three sages rose in succession, devised and pursued measurement, and became models for ten thousand generations. Reverently, within the utmost Dao, how could a sage born to the age awaken by himself? He must rely on transmission from a teacher. If one relies only on cleverness to guess and plan, it is as if obstacles stand in the way. If there is a person of humane breadth and clear insight who pursues to the end, and suddenly receives the teacher’s pointing, the chest opens at once—like lifting the curtain in a room, clear through and through; like opening the eyes and mounting a high terrace, nothing unseen. If one does not seek a teacher, how can one awaken by oneself?

If one already has a teacher, first use this book, the Cantong Qi, to test: every sentence can be explained and every chapter thoroughly understood—that is truly reliable; if even one sentence is obscure, it is hard to trust. To set this book aside and claim another path to the Dao is greatly to deceive people. The reason lies precisely in the words of this book.