《吕祖全书》Vol. 4

The tiger crouches at the center. Wood is benevolence (ren), called the Wood Mother (Mumu); metal is righteousness (yi), that is the Metal Lord (Jingong); earth is trustworthiness (xin), named the Yellow Matron (Huangpo)—an alternate name for earth’s virtue (de), and in neidan often the party that mediates and harmonizes from the center.

These five natures do not go beyond the Five Phases (wuxing); the Five Phases in turn cannot be separated from Yin-Yang. Yin and Yang stem from the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); push the Taiji to its utmost limit and you arrive at Wuji (the Limitless).

Therefore, once you understand the five natures, you can penetrate the Five Mysteries (wuxuan). How to understand? Look at the mutual generation and mutual overcoming of the Five Phases: water generates wood, and only then is the Wood Mother complete; wood generates fire, and the tiger’s spiritual function appears; fire generates earth, and the root of life (ming) is firm; earth generates metal, and the Metal Lord follows in accord; metal generates water, and the dragon’s body can rise.

Yet if there is no restraint through overcoming, nothing can be kept in check. Water overcomes fire, so the tiger does not grow excessively fierce; fire overcomes metal, so metal does not scatter and flow away; metal overcomes wood, so the Wood Mother does not decline; wood overcomes earth, so earth does not collapse; earth overcomes water, so the dragon does not fly off and disperse without return.

Generation followed by overcoming, overcoming followed by generation—generation and overcoming cycle on like a ring without end. Thus the Five Phases have no one-sided excess; they mutually adjust and nourish one another, and the five natures become complete. Whoever grasps this principle truly understands the utmost principle; from there, comprehending the subtlety of the Five Mysteries, one naturally finds assurance in the heart.

What are the Five Mysteries? Some call one Heaven Mystery (tianxuan), some Earth Mystery (dixuan), some Law Mystery (faxuan), some Dao Mystery (daoxuan)—all gathered into Mystery upon Mystery (xuan zhi you xuan, “mysterious again and again”). These Five Mysteries still do not depart from Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang in turn never leave the Five Phases. Therefore, understand the Five Phases and you know the five natures; know the five natures and you can penetrate the Five Mysteries.

To penetrate the mystery of Heaven is to understand the Way of Heaven; to emulate its natural course is to achieve wuwei (non-action—going with nature, not forcing or acting rashly). To penetrate the mystery of Earth is to understand earthly principles; to emulate the firmness and yielding of the great earth is to let the two complement each other fully. To penetrate the mystery of method (fa) is to know how to respond to events—change has no fixed thread, and no sign can be foreseen in advance. To penetrate the mystery of the Dao lies within the post-heaven and pre-heaven realms; only one who can grasp both “being” (you) and “non-being” (wu) can know its finest points. Penetrate further to “mystery upon mystery,” and the depths of heaven and earth, Dao and method, are all clear: knowing yet as if not knowing—thus knowing all without knowing; seeming to know all yet in truth knowing nothing. This is called attaining the Dao.

For those who study the Dao, to penetrate these five mysteries (Heaven, Earth, method, Dao, and mystery upon mystery) is the same: to know without clinging to knowing, to be all-knowing yet in essence unknowing—only then has one attained the Dao.

To penetrate the five mysteries, one must first clarify the five natures (the innate dispositions conferred by the qi of the Five Phases); to clarify the five natures, one must first remove the five hindrances, set aside the five kinds of discriminating perception, cut off the seven emotions (joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hatred, desire), drive away the six thieves (the desires of eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind that disturb the spirit), and purify the six roots (these six senses and consciousness)—only then can one penetrate. One must also devoutly seek instruction from a high perfected one (an immortal who has realized the highest rank) on the hidden aperture (the key pivot of inner refinement), and only then learn how to lay the foundation and set the furnace and cauldron (establish body and mind as the place of cultivation), gather the three treasures (jing, qi, shen), and recover one’s original nature. Once the original nature is established, one can traverse the three realms (desire realm, form realm, formless realm) and use the dharma milk (teaching that nourishes disciples) to save beings lost on the path. When three thousand meritorious deeds are complete and eight hundred virtues fulfilled, banners of rainbow light, crimson immortal music, and ceremonial escort will descend to welcome one to ascend to the jade palace (the celestial court) and realize the rank of high perfection. Fellow students, apply yourselves diligently.

Praise by Jade Cauldron Perfected One (a Daoist immortal): The great Dao is empty and still; the ten thousand phenomena are originally void. The pre-heaven heaven resides within the post-heaven realm. The three powers (Heaven, Earth, and humanity) interweave to form past and present; yin-yang qi cycles in generation and transformation, opening the primordial chaos. When the six consciousnesses are pure, the six paths (of rebirth) become empty; when the three spirits manifest and transform, they govern the three traditions. Jade fluid and golden essence condense into subtle forms; elixir talismans and vermilion seals reveal the secrets of the profound heaven. The wondrous teaching of the precious grove opens the primordial beginning; the subtlety of Lingbao (a major Daoist scriptural and ritual tradition) spreads the wind of the Dao. A single word proclaimed is like a striking stick (a blow that wakes one on the spot); threefold silence yet penetrating forth is the same as realizing emptiness. Broadly guiding beings to fulfillment is also this meaning: six consciousnesses pure and six paths empty; three spirits manifest and govern the three traditions; jade fluid and golden essence condense wondrous forms; elixir talismans and vermilion seals reveal the profound heaven; the wondrous teaching of the precious grove opens the primordial beginning; Lingbao subtlety spreads the wind of the Dao.

When a single word is proclaimed and spread abroad, it is like a staff-and-shout in the Chan school—enough to startle people awake. Once the threefold seal of silence is thoroughly broken and fully voiced, one is the same as one who has realized emptiness (wù kōng). Guiding sentient beings on a broad scale, this great canon is brought to completion; kalpas upon kalpas of rebirth are all gathered into its scroll and return to emptiness.

This is the middle scroll of the Great Scripture of Deliverance through Kalpas by the Great Vehicle, from the Supremely Mysterious Scripture of Mutual Penetration, the Wondrous Canon of the Utmost Dao and Supreme Mystery in Three Grades of the Qingwei Lineage. Qingwei is the Qingwei school; “three grades” denotes three tiers of dharma gates; “utmost dao and supreme mystery” is the highest mystery of the Way; “scripture of mutual penetration, wondrous canon” is the wondrous canon that joins with heaven and earth; “great vehicle deliverance through kalpas” is using the great dharma to carry people through calamity and tribulation.

Heaven and earth, from one breath of yin-yun (the blending and swirling of yin and yang qi), give birth to the ten thousand things. Only human beings are most lucid: they receive the fullness of principle and the correctness of qi, nobly holding heaven’s own rank (innate virtue, not an earthly title), rich in innate capacity for goodness, honored above the ten thousand things, the womb and seed of all living kinds. Lose that hair’s breadth of difference (the tiny margin by which humans are not beasts), and one loses true nature, becomes unlike the ten thousand things, and falls outside human order. Preserve it and one is a sage; hold it and one remains human; settle it and one grows great; transform it and one becomes a spirit. Humans stand alongside heaven and earth; the three powers (heaven, earth, and humanity) stand like the three legs of a tripod. Know then that this body is extremely hard to obtain and extremely easy to lose—not only easy to lose: once lost, it is lost forever, one sinks into the wheel of rebirth, and there is no day of turning back.

I expound to those who cultivate the Way the Five Mysteries (five profound gates of the Way); listen carefully:

Heaven’s color is vast and deep; it spreads and covers everything. It has form yet is not form, has image yet is not image. These images and colors have fixed hues—this is its “solid” aspect; yet speak of form and color and all is dim and indistinct—there is in fact no fixed image, vast and silent with nothing to grasp—what could be more empty? Only in emptiness can there be lucidity; only in solidity can there bear and sustain. Empty and solid, shifting in the most wondrous way. Therefore, penetrate the mystery of heaven and you know emptiness and solidity without sticking or freezing; follow nature, transformation at will, circulating without end—and the great elixir (the root achievement of internal alchemy) is then perfected.

The way of the great earth is thick, sincere, and plain—open, bright, and without limit. When the upper is empty and the lower is solid, the myriad things come forth; when the upper is solid and the lower is empty, the myriad things return to the root. Emptiness and fullness contain and layer upon each other, enduring together with heaven.

In its substance it rests like Gen (the trigram of the mountain, signifying stillness); in its function it circulates without ceasing. The mountain displays refined form; water displays its spirit-like subtlety. Form is what bears the myriad things; spirit is what gathers their finest essence. Without spirit there is no form; without form there is no spirit. Spirit moves, and form receives; form also relies on spirit to move. Emptiness and fullness complete each other and wonderfully fuse into one. Those who cultivate the Dao who grasp this meaning can harmonize hard and soft with their inner nature and let emptiness and fullness give birth to each other—then they can penetrate the mystery (xuan) of heaven’s Dao and understand this original principle. When Qian and Kun (heaven and earth, yang and yin) each hold their proper place, the Great Elixir (the fruit of inner alchemy) is complete.

As for the mystery of the Dao, it is not something words can declare. If you take it as solid, which kind of solidity is not also empty? If you take it as empty, which kind of emptiness is not also solid? When you try to speak of this interwoven emptiness and fullness—where exactly is the solid, and by what does the empty become clear? The solid within emptiness cannot be called solid; the empty within solidity cannot be called empty. Solidity does not stand alone as solidity, nor does emptiness stand alone as emptiness. You cannot slice it into pure emptiness or pure solidity; yet when you trace it to the end, the interwoven emptiness and fullness is not absent—only it is hard to explain clearly. How subtle! You cannot treat it as empty, yet in fact it is empty; you cannot treat it as solid, yet in origin it is solid. You cannot pin “emptiness and fullness interwoven” down in language, yet in reality it does not step outside that interwoven emptiness and fullness. The mystery of the Dao reaches the utmost—there is no name or image to speak of; it is deep and unfathomable, and hard to reach its central aim. Therefore, to awaken to this mystery is for the elixir to complete the nine revolutions (jiuzhuan)—nine rounds of repeated refining until it is fully rounded and complete.

As for the esoteric method, it is transmitted through the master’s lineage, rooted in Heaven’s mandate and spread across the earth; thus the Great Dao is fulfilled. This method is supremely subtle: transformations arise from the heart-mind, and its numinous power defies measure. Heaven and earth may be gathered in a single pouch; sun and moon may be held in a pot (within the pot lies its own heaven and earth). A mustard seed can hold Mount Meru; the great thousandfold world is no more than a tip of hair. Gold may be cast to the eight extremities; the six directions are regarded as dust. Now joining, now parting; now absent, now present—entering the hidden, emerging into manifestation, until at last all dissolves into silent emptiness. Driving spirits and commanding ghosts all follow the heart-mind; thunder and lightning answer in turn. Call it empty—what is not contained? Call it real—what is not void? When the heart-mind finds its place, the hand responds; mind and hand accord. If the heart-mind has no heart-mind, what does the hand add? Do not seek it from the hand; let it turn only with the heart-mind, changing without limit, with heaven and earth as witness. Subtle—how subtle! Unceasing generation. Only by penetrating the esoteric Dao does one reach this intent; thus, when the method’s principle is fully threaded through, the Dao is accomplished.

What is called xuan upon xuan in this passage cannot be put into words and cuts off all discursive thought. Subtle and indistinct, it reaches the utmost limit of xiyi—the realm so fine that nothing is seen and nothing is heard. Through countless kalpas, no one has ever transmitted it.

I now expound this teaching for the world; disciples, listen with a quiet heart. This xuan upon xuan was spoken of old by the Primordial Heavenly Worthy (Yuanshi Tianzun). What I have heard in private is this: from the heights of Heaven down to the boundless multitude of living beings, there is the perfected person (zhiren)—one whose cultivation has reached the ultimate. Mysterious upon mysterious: Heaven is ruled by it, Earth is governed by it; human and thing, hidden and manifest, each converge at its own extreme. It transforms past and present yet leaves no trace; it presides over the junction of kalpas yet shows no sign. The sage can no longer be called sage, the spirit can no longer be called spirit. Layer upon layer is non-being, and non-being is also being; fold upon fold is emptiness, and emptiness is also fullness. The sage does not see it increase; the fool does not see it decrease. Heaven stands at the center, yet Heaven itself does not know; Earth receives its flow, yet Earth itself does not recognize it. It pervades all things, and the myriad beings are turned by it without awareness. Its being is not ordinary being; its passing is not ordinary passing. Such xuan upon xuan—how can one measure or imagine it? Only one who penetrates this teaching truly knows mystery upon mystery.

These five mysteries (wu xuan) are not easy to penetrate completely. Those who study the Way investigate this teaching, put everything else aside, and seek it with full devotion. Gaining a transcendent understanding of the mysterious, they realize it alone in silence, discern the subtle in depth, and only then perceive the true root. From there they turn back to the secret essentials: cinnabar and lead (danqian)—the inner alchemical substances—are already complete within; adjusting the furnace fire (chou tian) needs no separate transmission. Yin and Yang each keep their place; dragon and tiger (metaphors for the two qi) harmonize without deliberate manipulation—it completes itself naturally. If one does not understand this principle, one is stained by guest dust (external defilement), the six roots (senses) take charge, the seven emotions blaze, and one falls into the house of fire (the world of desire and suffering)—how then can one probe the subtle mystery!

I have now set forth this teaching in full—yet who can truly penetrate it? From this, diverse opinions arose; people formed factions and schools, each holding to one side, answering back with ridicule. At first they still argued and exhorted one another according to principle, each keeping his own view and writing his own treatise. In sum, all was for the sake of the Dao, defended from every angle; though their words were often extreme, the heart that clarified the Dao remained fair and sincere. Later, as they drifted from the source, private motives and abuses multiplied; they attacked one another and formed cliques. In name they guarded the Dao; in fact they served themselves. Trace it to the root—these people were all outsiders. Alas! Such people are pedants in Confucianism, thieves of the Dao in Daoism, and makers of karma in Buddhism—each sunk in dullness as if in a dream, with no real difference among them. How could they know that Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism spring from one source? If one can unite with this aim, the separate names of the three teachings need never have been set up. In the remote age before Fu Xi, what divergent intent was there? Later the Sage of Propagation (Confucius) was born and the Supreme Venerable (Laozi) appeared in the world; what they jointly verified and aligned with was still this same root—meaning precisely “Can Tong Qi”: the three traditions meeting in one, mutually confirming one another.

When nature and the Way are in full clarity, there are two lines: one outward, toward leaving the world, and one inward, toward entering it. The teaching that enters the world must first thicken human bonds and the constant norms: ruler and father held in dignity, minister and child in loyalty and filial piety, brothers in deep mutual love, husband and wife cultivating the Way together, begetting and continuing sentient life so that heaven and earth endure through the ages and nurture the myriad things. Heaven and earth supplement from the side; the pivot of creation is not lost, and the work of the maker is assisted. If this teaching is not made clear, people for ten thousand generations are as deaf and blind. At the beginning of primordial chaos, the myriad things were full and the great earth laden; the world was obscure and dim, above and below lost their support—thus one knows this teaching is precisely what the Great Way relies upon. Yet if people lose its origin, how can they presume to guess and discuss it? Sadly, this supreme teaching has long ceased to be so: poor and prosperous, noble and base, rich and poor, high and low, great and small, strong and weak, many and few, self and other—all are weighed and compared. Fame, profit, and the temper of the times bind people like the tassels of a worldly cap; they drift through birth and death, chase things upside down, contend and steal, deceit flourishes, stratagems multiply, and power and craft are used to fool others. At times bold schemers appear, disordering human relations, colluding through influence, crushing one another through talent; tongues lash out, right and wrong blur, argument goes back and forth, and those of the same kind harm one another. Each raises a banner of his own; one principle splinters into confusion; some see it this way, others that; the alike cling together, the unlike mock; gain and loss, right and wrong cannot be told apart; the main aim is never grasped, the fine detail never seen. They do not know that this Way is sameness within difference and difference within sameness—and within sameness and difference there is further sameness and difference. Right and wrong tangle, gain and loss invert; people only vent their opinions and ignore reason. Even within one teaching lineage they treat each other as enemies; without attack and denunciation they cannot rest a moment. Who is still willing to be even-minded? Fair discussion becomes hard to keep unbiased. Alas, on these crucial words, who truly understands? If fellow disciples are this fierce, what of everyone else?

It is also said: human hearts decay, and they decay through writing. To learn by relying on writing is to specialize in the outer; all speech exalts ornament, and ornamental words make people use their hearts entirely on the outside. Where the heart is outside, the inner is necessarily abandoned; where the heart seeks to please others, it ends by forgetting oneself.

When one thinks only of leaving a name for posterity, one forgets to cultivate oneself; when one seeks only to surpass others, one forgets self-restraint and indulges in adornment alone. Adorned language is the mind turned entirely outward. A mind turned outward inevitably neglects the inner; a mind bent on pleasing others inevitably forgets itself. Thinking of lasting fame, one forgets self-cultivation; striving to outdo others, one forgets restraint; showing off vast learning, one forgets returning to simplicity; pursuing ornate elegance, one forgets straightforward sincerity. Craft and pretense increase day by day, while essence dwindles day by day. When letters flourish, the principle of nature and life becomes all the harder to discern—can one fail to be wary? Can one fail to be careful?

I have heard: the pattern of Heaven shines bright in the River of Stars; the pattern of Earth appears in the changing of grasses and trees; the pattern of Humanity gleams in the harmony of music and the distinctions of ritual. All these arise from nature, not from deliberate artifice. The highest pattern of culture does not force itself into being as culture; culture is born from what is true; what is born from truth is the highest culture.

Later generations produced vast quantities of writing, yet in effect it was almost as if there were no writing at all. It was not that the world lacked characters—it was that what people produced was not true writing; such writing in name only could hardly count as writing at all. Still more lamentable, people drowned in letters as if they had heard of everything, yet what they heard was not the truth they ought to grasp—they merely memorized in a shallow way and chased breadth in arrogant fashion. The highest reverence never depended on ornament, and the closest bonds never depended on ornament either; now everything was done through writing, and cunning fraud arose from it. Where there had been no loyalty or filial piety, once put into writing they became loyalty and filial piety; where there had been no brotherly love or respect, once put into writing they became brotherly love and respect. They indulged themselves in private at home, then penned flashy, ornate phrases. Conduct that violated ritual and discarded norms was then glossed with writing; the harm spread until plainness turned crude and the multitude was corrupted. When substance gave way to surface ornament, hypocrisy replaced sincerity; abandoning simplicity for cleverness, schemers multiplied. People lost their constant virtue—not only failing in loyalty, filial piety, respect for elders, kindness, and uprightness, but going further: adultery, theft, fraud, and forgery, openly committing unlawful acts; outwardly fierce or outwardly mild, inwardly vicious, secretly laying deadly plots. The ancient Way no longer existed; people today were wholly unaware, like a river flowing only downward—with no one to turn it back.

Confucian teaching lost its substance; its later branches grew ever more mixed and ever more hypocritical, yet they still did not wake up. They formed clubs and alliances, praised one another, and at the slightest provocation slandered others—even misusing names to falsely accuse the Supreme Lord, berating Buddha and reviling patriarchs, deceiving people and erasing reverence for ghosts and spirits, mocking Buddhism and Daoism. They laughed at orthodox teaching and legitimate lineages as heterodox, and dismissed immortal scriptures and Buddhist sutras as perverse doctrine. They said Daoism and Buddhism destroyed human relations—little did they know that these people not only destroyed those relations themselves but spread calamity onto the age and the common people. Why? Because such Confucians were the models the masses looked up to; when the plumb line is crooked, the shadow tilts all the more. Yet these were only petty scholars—both pedantic and arrogant.

Those who are truly great Confucian scholars are not like that. Their insight reaches straight to the root: they know that Confucian teaching and the teachings of Daoism and Buddhism (the teaching of Śākyamuni) are one principle, one continuous thread—not two separate things. Confucianism and Buddhism both stem from the Dao; the Dao is rooted in nature (xing, human nature), and nature returns to Heaven. Heavenly principle is not twofold, and people ought not to be split into three teachings. The division into three teachings is a later view; traced to the source, there is only one Dao, not a second.

Great Confucian scholars understand this and no longer impose false distinctions. Each simply fulfills their path: in serving the ruler, loyalty; in one's office, doing one's utmost; in serving parents, filial piety and devoted support; elder brother friendly, younger brother respectful, each according to place; the way of husband and wife is the beginning of human relations, and the right path guards against disorder. In serving spirits and gods, sincerity and reverence alone; in governing the people, love arising from benevolence, love extending to grass and trees, kindness reaching even to insects. Reverence for Heaven's clear mandate, diligence and care in earthly affairs, no shame when alone in secret, in all things receiving with humility. They know that teaching changes with circumstances and is not locked into one form—they distinguish wrong from right and do not mock at random. This is what sages and worthies are.

The utmost of the Dao connects with Heaven. The sage is both ruler and teacher, governing the world and assisting Heaven and Earth in transformation: ruler and subject each in place, father and son in strict order, the way of friendship and respect established, brotherly affection linked, the way of husband and wife upright, yin and yang without error. Then Heaven and Earth each hold their place, the myriad things are at ease, wind and rain are in harmony, cold and heat come on time, auspicious signs gradually appear, calamitous qi is removed, and the people and the myriad things are benevolent, thick, and long-lived. How are such people different from immortals or Buddhas! In life they are the glory of the world; in the end they return to Shangqing (the highest pure realm spoken of in Daoism), setting the highest standard between Heaven and humankind, enduring as long as Heaven and Earth.

The Buddhist teaching is pure and subtle, originating in remote kalpas. It uses emptiness to contemplate emptiness and ultimately returns to voidness and still extinction.

In the past there was a supreme being named Ran Deng (Dipamkara, the Burning Lamp Buddha), who appeared in the middle antiquity, turned the great Dharma wheel, and taught and liberated countless beings; from this the transmission of the Buddha’s teaching flourished.

Later another Buddha appeared, named Shakya Muni (Shakyamuni). He descended from the Seed-People Heaven—the realm where, in Daoist cosmology, survivors of a world-ending kalpa remain—to Jambudvipa, the southern continent where humans dwell, in the jiayin year of King Zhao of Zhou.

In western India there was the kingdom of Kapilavastu; its king was named Pure Brahma (Shuddhodana). On the eighth day of the fourth month the prince was born, endowed with the thirty-two marks and eighty excellences. Because of vows from past lives he renounced the throne to cultivate the Way. On a snowy mountain he undertook six years of austere practice, sitting in still meditation without moving; magpies built a nest on his head and vines wound around his calves. On the eighth day of the twelfth month he saw the morning star appear and suddenly attained complete enlightenment, fully possessing the six supernatural powers and the strength of dragons and elephants.

He carried forward what came before and opened what followed, spreading the teaching in the western regions: he first taught at the Deer Park (Sarnath), then at the Jeta Grove (Jetavana, said to have been bought with gold spread on the ground). Buddhism thus rose to great prominence. Over forty-nine years he taught according to circumstances in many different ways. At that time bhikkhus, bhikkhunis, upasakas, and upasikas—monks, nuns, and lay men and women—numbering several thousand together heard the Dharma, and none failed to gain liberation.

Among them Shariputra was foremost in wisdom; the Buddha often used him to proclaim the essentials of the Dharma. The great disciple Mahakashyapa received the Buddha’s mind-seal and transmitted the true teaching; the Buddha personally predicted that he would be the first patriarch. There was also the disciple Ananda, foremost in learning; after the Buddha’s parinirvana he recited and transmitted the scriptures and spread them among people—today’s Buddhist canon was all handed down through his proclamation.

The line passed to Bodhidharma. By great spiritual power he in one night subdued thirty-six sites of heterodox teachings and made a vast vow; then he set out from western India, crossed the Ganges, reached the southern continent to teach and spread the doctrine, and the Chan school thereby greatly expanded.

Buddhism came from West India, crossed the Ganges, and reached Jambudvipa—the world where human beings dwell—where it preached the Dharma and spread its teachings until its schools flourished widely. It transmitted secret instructions so that people might awaken through transcendent insight, clarify the mind, and see their true nature. The teaching was never voluminous to begin with: all outward clinging had to be cleared away, and one relied on a phrase or even a single word to penetrate the original face. Cleverness, hearsay, and book knowledge were all blocked off and set aside; one fell into silent stillness. A nod could seal the essential point; one awakened to truth and to causation. “Nothingness” did not settle on some ultimate “nothing”; “emptiness” did not settle on emptiness as a thing. Turning inward to watch this very mind, it was like the edge of empty space, like the moon in a thousand rivers, like a mirror, like a bubble, like fragrance in a flower—layer upon layer, all empty; because even “nothing” and “empty” were not grasped, there was nothing left to grasp. The wonder of a single word could open unobstructed passage: no “before” ahead, no “after” behind; not gained from seeing and hearing, but suddenly leaping beyond in profound inner contemplation; letting every kind of perception be, while oneself quietly dissolved. Precisely because there was causation, one could reach a state that transcends causation—and thus the Chan school rose to prominence.

Later generations of great masters versed in sutra, vinaya, and treatises drew on the great treasury of the Dharma, elucidated and translated the texts, sought out subtle meaning, and carried it to every Jambudvipa in the trichiliocosm. They broadly expounded countless causal teachings for sentient beings, dispelled feverish affliction into cool refreshment, uprooted suffering so people might leave the disasters of the burning house, rescued wandering souls from hell, and taught beings of the six paths, granting them the ease of gods and humans—benefit without end—so that the teaching through signs (Buddhism) flourished.

As transmission wore on, the true essential point was no longer heard. Monks who received no authentic transmission copied here and there, took words for the essence, and matched wits in sharp repartee, vying with the tongue. Chan, in its origin, was meant to unfold what is hidden and profound and to recognize the original face—it had no need of ornate display. To trace the ills of later times is to see harm passed to those who follow: the true aim was lost, the master within was dragged down, one left the native dwelling and entered a realm of nothing at all—adrift in vagueness, falling into “wild fox” Chan, deluded and reckless, reviling Buddha and cursing patriarchs while posing as great adepts. Worse still were absurd claims without real awakening, blind leading blind, and the blind handing blindness on again.

The Tathagata, our Buddha, established various Dharma methods—what kind of Dharma are these methods, after all? To lead people to investigate the root, all dharmas are regarded as empty; the written word is not taken as the ultimate truth. This is not meant to abolish language altogether, but out of fear that later students would chase only within words and lose their original face, it is said that one should “set aside the written word.” What is worse is that some people, absurdly attached and unable to awaken, pass error on to error, and mistakes accumulate generation after generation.

In fact, the written word cannot be entirely discarded. If one cast it off completely, by what means would one follow the teaching back to its source? Yet if one clings to words and treats the scriptures merely as text, without using words to probe the Buddha’s hidden intent, one strays from the true aim. This is the barrier of language; it truly harms cultivation of the Way.

Still more pitiable are those who do not know that this sutra is the Buddha’s mind-seal, transmitted in the human world to teach beings broadly so they may understand and awaken. Even the lowest and most dull may use this sutra for repentance. The original intent is that they should give rise to reverence, recite it morning and evening, and over time perhaps awaken, grasp the thought of birth and death, strive in good conduct, and leave the various paths of rebirth—or penetrate the subtle and go further, ascending to the supreme vehicle. It is not that merely chanting with the mouth while the heart lacks repentance can absolve wrongdoing.

Even oral recitation alone brings benefit: when one recites, the heart fills with great joy; chanting aloud allows all beings of the yin and yang realms, evil spirits and heterodox kinds, lingering souls and the like to hear this sutra, receive widespread excellent benefit, and all be rescued.

But this does not mean that casual oral recitation without a mind of receiving and upholding, reverence, sincere faith, joyful eagerness, equal benefit for all beings, and selflessness counts as “reciting the sutra” and earns merit.

Morals decline day by day; the world grows ever more corrupt. Every Buddhist scripture is treated as nothing more than a means to earn food and clothing: households that hire chanting want only hollow words in return, and those who chant answer with hollow words alone. Because of this empty show, all living beings slight these scriptures, and the Dharma of all Buddhas has no way to endure.

Know that these scriptures hold great liberation: like the melody “Guangling San” they can dissolve restlessness; like the wish-fulfilling mani pearl they can dissolve affliction; like the boat of prajna (wisdom) they can ferry the drowning; like paramita (perfection, the teaching that reaches the other shore) they can produce nourishing moisture; like a lamp in a dark room they can illumine what is hidden—benefits beyond measure. If you merely skim them as written words, they become dregs with nothing to rely on.

For this reason Chan sweeps all of that away: settle the mind and look inward, empty inner and outer forms, sit in silent depth and stillness, take up a huatou (a phrase to investigate in meditation), and press on until the ultimate point is reached. There is a resting in emptiness, yet even emptiness has nothing to empty; precisely because you do not cling to that emptiness, you awaken to this meaning. It is like raising a torch in a dark room: nothing is unseen, everywhere is clear, without obstruction. The substance of mind is thereby complete, the heaven of your inborn nature is fulfilled, you share being with heaven and earth, are not bound by outer things, and do not possess things as your own.

This is Brahma (purity): Brahma-sound is clear, the hidden and the bright mutually aid. This is Chan: Chan principle is deep and subtle. Humans and devas can all investigate it; whoever fully clarifies this meaning holds the seed of Buddha-bodhi (awakening). It is exactly so. View the essential meaning transmitted from the West in this way, and the whole of the Buddha-Dharma is here.

Speaking of the Great Dao: it was opened by Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun, the Primordial Beginning), who revealed hidden essentials; the profound framework of the Dao spread from there, and from the Dao came the Dharma (Fa). The Dharma passed to Lingbao (Lingbao Tianzun), who displayed boundless responsive efficacy; the golden precepts and jade statutes turned and governed heaven and earth, ruling over spirits and humans alike. Yet living beings had not yet heard the Great Dao, and Daoist teaching could not circulate. Taishang (Supreme Lord, Taishang Laojun) descended to birth, with many divine marvels. The Holy Mother carried him; he emerged from beneath her left armpit and was born beneath an auspicious plum tree—his hair and beard already white, so he took Li as his surname. He remained in his mother’s womb for eighty-one years before leaving her body. He appeared in the same era as the sage of Ni Mountain (Confucius) and the Buddha of Snow Mountain (Shakyamuni); the three were founders of the Three Teachings, model teachers for all, transmitting the Dharma without limit. More than five thousand words—each character a subtle truth. He hid himself among the archives as Keeper of the Histories, opening and transforming the multitude, yet none could truly match him. Purple qi came from the east; he rode a green ox westward. One who would save the world—Yin Xi, keeper of the pass—had long awakened to true mystery but had not yet grasped its core. Seeing these numinous traces, he knew an extraordinary person was coming, went out to meet him in person, set forth sincere intent, knelt and bowed, and begged for the teaching before his seat. The secret text of the Dao De was personally transmitted by Taishang; passed to later ages, it became the guiding principle of Daoism. Whether engaged in the world or withdrawn from it, all who hear these words may broadly benefit; grasp the essentials and you may share the longevity of heaven and earth, survive great kalpas, leave behind the turns of rebirth in the various destinies, ascend and enter the realm of heaven and human, follow the ordering of heaven and earth—life cannot be reckoned in years; you exist with heaven and earth yet do not decay and age along with them.

Later he spread the teaching and, in succession, delivered people eighty-six times, liberating the various zhenren—those who had attained the Dao and completed their realization—so that they could transcend and awaken to xuanli, the profound principle of the Great Dao. The dharma was widely disseminated, and for the immortals he prepared ladders and ferry-boats for ascent and crossing. Those who could comprehend gave rise in stillness to yuan yin, the full and pervasive sound of the dharma; they abided in perfect integration, their minds clear, empty, and still, and saw through to the root origin. They scorned every contrivance, manipulation, and secret substitution, naturally received the true aim, and thereby became upright tianren, heavenly persons, reaping immeasurable karmic fruit.

After that the lineage of the Dao was handed down, yet the gate of the pure and tranquil dharma—the practice grounded in pure stillness and wuwei—found no one to carry it on. Then teachings of cultivating life arose: dividing and reuniting yin and yang, interweaving and transforming fire and water, qu kan tian li, drawing from Kan to fill Li, using the image of kidney essence to replenish the image of heart spirit, piercing the xuan guan, the mystery pass, the crucial inner gate, establishing the foundation and refining mercury, setting the cauldron and kindling the furnace, refining qi and smelting jing, rousing shen and primordial qi, forming the jindan, the Golden Elixir, nurturing and gestating until one received the spiritual embryo and perfected one’s own form. Thus, by all these postnatal efforts, one returns to the innate true body of the primordial. Though this method ranks below the true purport of the Daodejing of Taishang, Supreme Lord Laozi, it is still the orthodox eye of the dharma within cultivation—the reliable core of correct practice.

Yet the farther the transmission stretched, the more mixed the lineages became, until various bypaths and crooked ways appeared: they pilfered leftover phrases, fabricated heterodox doctrines, and blocked the straight road. Some took true yin to nourish the lead in the cauldron and true yang to supplement the mercury in the cauldron; others practiced stealing yin and swapping yang, drawing in the moon’s light and breathing forth essence to aid their growth. Wicked teachers then piled on false claims, set up cauldrons and vessels, and harmed others to benefit themselves; going further, they heaped up every sort of evil karma and cleverly enticed the unknowing into evil arts, so they lost the true lineage, forfeited life and fate, and fell forever into the wheel of rebirth—a matter deeply to be pitied.

There is another kind of person who rashly seeks the Great Dao. Though they know certain paths are evil causes, they still pursue true awakening—yet without receiving genuine transmission, they search only in stale words on paper and mistake dross for the nourishing milk of the Dharma. They then sit in meditation, hold the breath and concentrate the spirit, and perform “adding and subtracting the fire” (advancing and retreating in breath regulation and intent) at zi and wu hours (midnight and noon). How could they know that single true aperture of the Mysterious Pass (xuan guan)—when its proper place is not yet clear, through what could they penetrate? The result is that they wish to raise the water but cannot; they draw true yang out of its native abode and can never gather it back again. Compared with idle sitting that accomplishes nothing, the harm is far more severe. The Great Dao lies solely in quiet purity; once deliberate striving appears, myriad faults spring up.

The Great Dao originally arises from Wuji—the boundless, still-undivided beginning—and is the root of Taiji, the foundation from which Yin and Yang are about to split. It gives birth to Yin and Yang, transforms into the myriad things, nourishes all living beings; its power is vast, yet its substance stays ever as it is: no form, no color or sound, no scent, and no graspable marks of dharma. Because it has nothing and lacks nothing, it need not act; it is simply clear and empty, calm and settled, silent and free. In essence it is wholly unobstructed; without obstruction it is not harmed, without harm nothing is lost, and with nothing lost the body of the Dao is complete. The essence is perfectly round and bright, marvelous function shines forth, change is unfathomable, it meets conditions as they arise without deliberate mind and without corruption. It runs through the hidden and the manifest, holds heaven and earth, spans past and present, and clarifies human relations; without beginning or end, without great or small, nowhere absent, nowhere blocked, it goes out from being and enters non-being, the ancestral root of the myriad things.

For this reason, following tributaries upstream is not as good as going straight to the source. Find the source and the branches clarify themselves; chase only the branches and even if you eventually touch the source, the branches have already multiplied beyond measure and your effort becomes a tangle of loose ends. That is why the perfected person at Yuju—the place where the Supreme Sovereign is said to have taught—expounded the teaching of purity and stillness, which stresses quieting the mind and returning to the root, and disclosed the true mystery, the subtle authentic reality of the Dao. There was no other aim: only to point directly at the source, so that people might leap free within that mystery, sweep everything aside, and only then see the Great Dao clearly.

Those who know the Great Dao do not set out to “use” this mind, yet the mind is real and not hollow. Precisely because nothing is forced into service, nothing is withheld and nothing is missing; thus nothing lies beyond their reach. To reach everywhere is to be a Zhenren—one who has awakened to the Great Dao. Only such a person can hand down and spread this subtle Dao.

Sadly, the temper of the age grew thinner and more corrupt; pure simplicity turned thick and dull. Under such a climate, such people appear; steeped in it to the full, they too become able to reach everywhere. To reach everywhere is still to be a Zhenren—and still one must wait for such a person to transmit this subtle Dao.

Regrettably, the spirit of the age grows ever more shallow; what was once pure and substantial has gradually turned dull and confused. Such a world breeds such people, and such people practice such teachings. Those who uphold Confucianism reject Buddhism and Daoism; even when they debate, they touch only the surface and never grasp the root, so their arguments naturally show many gaps.

If one pursues the ultimate aim, what Confucians call ming (fate/life), xin (mind), and xing (nature) are the same in Daoism and Buddhism too. What people first receive from this endowment is not different; what differs in the middle is effort and attainment.

What Confucianism chiefly values is the concrete: first zhì zhī (extending knowledge), yet the knowledge to be extended is originally empty and luminous; hence one seeks it in things, and gè wù (investigating the principle of things) is the solid ground. Once the nature of things is clear, inherent knowledge can be extended; when the substance of knowing is thorough, the inner mind is bright and at peace. The master of the five senses shines forth as it truly is, without obstruction; the “ruler of the heart” (xin as lord of the body) is secure and still, and destiny (tiānmìng) rests on oneself.

This xìngmìng (nature and destiny)—the three teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism) were originally one. Those who can manifest their own virtue are not only Confucians; Buddhists do the same, only the methods of cultivation follow different lineages. Buddhism stresses emptiness, and therefore looks lightly on the śrāvaka (those who practice by hearing the teaching). Cultivating through that śrāvaka path lands one on a second tier. For śrāvaka awakening works the spirit to seek supernatural powers and relies on cleverness. If this is misapplied, one easily strays onto another path and loses one’s original nature; even if not misapplied, following a fixed track to the end still leaves bonds. As for the Buddhist state of transcendent union—leaving not a trace, utterly unhindered—the śrāvaka path is after all not its core aim. Hence all words must be swept away and one seeks only the true teaching (zhēn zōng). Once the true teaching is clear, myriad changes all connect.

Śrāvaka corresponds to gé zhì (investigation and extension of knowledge); canwu (awakening through contemplation) corresponds to chéng zhèng (sincerity and rectification of mind). Where there is sincerity, clarity must follow—why still pursue gé wù? For knowing, with respect to the Way, is only the threshold between dream and awakening; chéng and zhèng are the boundary between human and ghost. Once intention is sincere, one leaves the ghostly path (guǐ qù) and rises to stand properly among humans and heaven. At that point, what use is investigating things and extending knowledge? Thus Buddhism’s entry is relatively swift; Confucian practice is finer in detail than Buddhism’s, yet success is the same.

When we speak of our Way, its root lies in wuwei (acting in accord with nature without forced contrivance); yet when we trace its essential purport, there is nothing it cannot accomplish. One should investigate and discuss principles that align profoundly with the mysterious Dao (xuanqi), read widely and draw from many sources, and use these to seek the origin. Once the origin is grasped, there is no need to go looking for something else to do. In such practice one also looks to gewu zhizhi—investigating things to attain genuine knowledge—though what is investigated differs slightly from the Confucian approach, and what is contemplated bears some resemblance to Buddhism. To say they differ is not to say they are utterly unlike; to say they resemble each other is not to say they are wholly one. When you reach the root, what distinction is there?

Thus Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism stand like the three legs of a tripod—each indispensable. Whether hidden or manifest, the principle is one, not two. Confucianism governs human affairs; Daoism rescues the age; Buddhism upholds this world through its teaching, aiming to deliver sentient beings and spread the great Dharma assembly.

Since heaven and earth were opened, people have honored Confucian learning, cultivated the Dao, and practiced Buddhism. Who has truly reached the stature of a sage or worthy? Who has truly attained immortality or buddhahood?

Those who study Confucianism wear the scholar’s cap and robe and look like Confucians, yet they are not true Confucians. They amass wide hearing and miscellaneous memorization only to hunt for reputation, and do not cultivate themselves at all. When they withdraw into solitude and examine themselves, their shame is great. Their minds are unclear; sincerity and principle are both lost. Measured against the Book of Odes and Book of Documents, what have they actually put into practice? Their aspirations are restless; they talk loftily and constantly invoke ancient worthies with clever appeals—yet they err greatly and lose what was originally theirs.

A genuine Confucian must awaken a mind of clarity and stillness, not fall into evil causes and conditions, not cling to self and other, each fulfill their own role, act according to the proper form of human life and restore original nature (jianxing fuxing), and make good on their words: loyalty to the ruler, filial piety to parents, brotherly love and respectful deference, honesty without deceit, treating others with a compassionate heart and nurturing things with humane virtue, neither arrogant nor stingy, inwardly modest and receptive, not bullying widows and orphans, not mistreating the friendless and helpless, neither greedy nor lustful, not going against one’s true nature.

The true immortals of Daoism and the ancient buddhas of Buddhism are no more than this. Such a person can sacrifice to the spirits, and the spirit is that person; can revere the Buddha, and the Buddha is their equal. Without relying on separate cultivation, the body of the Dao is naturally and forever upright; without relying on separate awakening, buddha-nature is naturally perfect and bright; without relying on separate qi cultivation, the great elixir (the inner-alchemical fulfillment of nature and life) naturally completes; without relying on conceptual enlightenment, Chan principle naturally verifies what is real.

In heaven they are heaven, and heaven honors their name; among humans they are human, and all people respect and draw near them. They endure through the Three Realms (heaven, earth, and humanity—or the desire, form, and formless realms), the fragrance of ritual vessels and offerings ever present, relied upon for ten thousand generations. The lineages of all three teachings are great sages, honored for all time. They move through yin and yang, govern heaven and earth, cover above and support below—lasting beyond compare. Whether Buddha or immortal, Buddhist or Daoist, none fails to offer sacrifice and reverence. Unborn and undying, without equal. The patriarchs of the three teachings ultimately return to the root. You disciples should receive this in faith and put it into practice.

Praise of the Jade Casket’s Wondrous Aspect True Person (the true person’s title and name; the eulogy is in his own hand). Once the most recondite principle is fully penetrated, Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all return to one root; when the One Origin opens, the aim of this lineage stands revealed. It is honored everywhere and revered everywhere; unborn and undying, nothing stands beside it. The founders of the three teachings alike return to the primordial One Qi (the single breath before heaven and earth were divided). All disciples should believe, receive, and put it into practice. The Way opens primordial chaos (the undifferentiated state before heaven and earth), the myriad forms are wholly empty and still, and the benefit of this profound scripture has no end.

This is the lower fascicle of the Qingwei Scripture of the Supreme Way, the Most Mysterious Treatise on Unity, the Great Vehicle True Scripture for Crossing Calamities. Qingwei is a Daoist ritual lineage; the title means to unite the supreme Way of utmost mystery and to deliver people through calamity by the vast Dharma gate.

The root of the Great Way arises from no beginning; it gives birth to heaven and earth, to people and to things. Nothing exists without it; nowhere is it absent. At times it is still and holds the pivot of creation; at times it moves and deploys its spirit. Going out from “being” into “non-being” is the root of all change; entering the hidden and then appearing is the heart of the Maker. It is not ancient because it was ancient, nor merely present because it is now. So subtle it cannot originally be named; to call it “Dao” is only a name people give.

Long ago, before Taiji (the origin before yin and yang were divided) had opened, one Qi was undivided; yin and yang interwove, chaos was unclear, heaven and earth were inverted, the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) were in disorder, Qian and Kun (heaven and earth) lost their order, sun and moon had no light, people and things were melted away, and the world sank into total extinction. Suddenly without, suddenly with—like floating, like sinking—dim and vast, sinking in turmoil, drifting above and below with nothing to rely on. Then the highest sages, immortals, buddhas, and true persons, the celestial emperor and spirits who preside, the ancestral profound exalted lords (the supreme deities of the Mysterious Gate), and all vajra-indestructible dharmakāya (bodies firm and undying)—encountering this kalpa assembly, fell into distress, gradually melted away, and lost their spirit; form and spirit transformed into each other and could not preserve the original true. Once lost, lost forever—the root was wholly uprooted. Even myriad years of ascetic practice and good karma accumulated through many kalpas could not be preserved because of this disaster.

In the cosmos there lived a perfected person—the highest sage who had completed cultivation—named Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun). Pitying the calamity of this kalpa (the great upheaval that comes at each cosmic cycle), he displayed his full divine power: he gathered Indra (Shakra), all exalted sages and highest perfected ones, the lords of the subtle realms (xuanzai), the root of the Buddha’s bodhi, and every holy spirit, and sealed them inside a pearl no larger than a grain of millet. He also compressed the ancestral root of all Qi (primordial breath) into the space of a fingernail and offered it to another perfected one called Wuxiang (Formless). Wuxiang received it into the Mysterious Orifice (the crucial subtle gate), and through thirty thousand revolutions and one great cosmic assembly—an immensely long kalpa—nurtured and gestated it, feeding it with Mysterious Qi, moving it with spirit-essence, until it became a spirit fetus and was hidden again in that millet-sized pearl. Once more the ancestral root of all Qi was gathered into a fingernail and offered to the perfected one Wuxiang. He again placed it in the Mysterious Orifice, passed through the same thirty thousand revolutions and one great assembly, nourished and gestated it, suckled it with Mysterious Qi, circulated it with spirit-essence, formed a spirit fetus, and warmed it with primordial intention (yuan yi—the original mind-intent).

When the sequence moved from zi to chou—the two successive Earthly Branch phases marking the first stirrings of creation—the Great Qi began to condense, the Mysterious Wind gradually swelled, and the primordial sovereign turned creation like a potter’s wheel. At first a single breath of Qi rose and spread in dense mist; the clear, light vapor then condensed into vast, rolling depth and circled into a wheel. It turned thirty thousand times without rest, revolving again and again until all was washed even. The dregs that settled from this breath slowly formed the earth: the heavy became turbid substance holding the eight extremities; the coarse rose as mountains, the clear flowed as water. From mountain and water, rivers and ranges were cast. The essences of the Five Phases took their forms and colors from their own refined Qi, filling the realm between heaven and earth, gathering primordial Qi together so the earth stayed firm and the virtue of Kun (Earth) remained upright and true. The vast heaven stirred and spiraled, wrapping all things in one breath and repeatedly condensing essence. Thus the way of earth did not tilt from antiquity but stood face to face with heaven: what was bestowed above was fulfilled below; generation and transformation went on without end—now bearing, now completing—and boundless nurturing was achieved. This is the work heaven and earth perform. Through their mutual resonance and generation, Pangu was born from this process; the fulfillment below, endless and without limit, now sustaining, now accomplishing—the measureless change is precisely what heaven and earth achieve.

Heaven and earth interact and give birth to one another; from this arises Pangu, the ancestor who opened heaven and earth—he is the Great Perfected One, the person of supreme completion. He took pity on a cosmos still chaotic and unclear, with vital energy (Qi) still blocked and transformation hard to carry out, and so he deliberately showed himself in bodily form. In the space of a single day and night he changed seventy-two times, taking the likeness of all kinds of things, each time resembling that thing’s form. At last he became a beautiful, complete figure, head holding up heaven and feet standing on earth—this is what is called “the human.” The human receives the purity of principle (Li), the clarity of Qi, the subtlety of Jing (essence), and the brilliance of Shen (spirit)—the foundations of life in Daoist teaching—and thus stands alongside heaven and earth as one of the three powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity), like the three legs of a tripod set apart. From this we know that heaven’s births, earth’s births, human births, and every category of the ten thousand things all imitate him and all partake of his wonder; were it not for this supreme person, how could any of this have its source?

This supreme person upholds a teaching that has no visible form and dwells at ease in Jade Clarity (Yuqing), the highest pure heaven of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing); he reaches the utmost of indistinctness, beyond what the mind can measure. In the realm of utmost purity and subtlety (Qingwei) he presides over everything: the way of heaven, the way of earth, the way of humanity, and the demonic path; marshes and the underworld; and the six paths of rebirth (heaven, humanity, asuras, animals, hungry ghosts, and hell). He reviews the cycles of cosmic calamity and renewal, turns the cosmos (qian and kun), and governs both the celestial and human realms, including the ascent, liberation, and karmic retribution of immortals, buddhas, and true sovereigns. He also rules over domains marked by such Jupiter-year names as Sheti’ge and Dahuangluo. He has no deliberate thought and no contrived action; his transforming work arises entirely from non-mind. Because even “non-mind” cannot be asserted, “non-action” (Wuwei) cannot be asserted either; because Wuwei cannot be asserted, there is no form, no sound, no taste, no rank or peer, no teaching to declare, and no name to call—nothing to cling to, nothing to obstruct, not even emotion left to remain. The original text repeats these negations once more. Then, by way of this inconceivability, he arrives at a state where even Shen is not posited; precisely because he does not fix on Shen, nothing is unclear, nothing is outside his sway, nothing fails to go through, whatever should be transformed is transformed, and nurturing is evenly balanced and fitting.

This is Yuanshi Tianzun (the Primordial Lord of the Beginning), who dwells in Jade Clarity, the highest realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing). He sits upright with hands joined, deep in silence and without words, yet he turns past and present; clear, empty, and utterly still, he seems at once absent and present. Nothing fails to take him as its root, and no breath arises except through him. He holds sway over the hidden essentials so that the myriad beings all return to the primordial azure qi (shi qing) of first opening.

His birth lies in Wood and his completion in Metal; he carries the image of Li Fire and Kan Water in Meng Dun (the hexagram of things at first emergence), and returns to the utmost Wu Earth (central Earth), with harmony and centrality as lord. He sends forth the great divine mantra to harmonize the six yin: yin, though still, can stir into motion; when yang reaches its limit it stretches forth. Yin and yang alternate; the Five Phases gather essence and qi, wondrously joined in opening and closing, held in concentration within the void.

The five directions are paired with the Five Phases; each has its sovereign, each at its own center, each in its own office, each turning its spirit, each obeying the arcane command, each completing its task. The retinues of these sovereigns also have their posts, by which they proclaim the primordial cycle and spread imperial benevolence.

This Yuanshi, in measureless bodies through measureless kalpas (aeons), preserves and steadies primordial qi, letting the turns of destiny run their course without intent or compulsion, subtle to the utmost. The sovereigns’ followers each keep their places, expounding the primordial cycle and dispensing royal grace.

This Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun, one of the supreme deities of Daoism) passes through measureless kalpas (aeons of immeasurably long duration) in a measureless body, preserving and consolidating primordial qi, allowing the course of fate to unfold without forming intentions and without fixing on what must be—subtle beyond measure and utterly spontaneous. He dwells at ease within Yujing (the highest of the Three Pure Ones’ realms), deploying his measureless body with vast divine power, dividing his form and responding through transformation so that each of his spirits enters a human person: on each person’s crown rests one Yuanshi, lord of that body and sovereign of the myriad breaths.

Therefore each human body manifests divine power according to the Yuanshi incarnation received. Even amid times beyond reckoning, there is no harm and no peril—no birth and no death, neither moving nor still; wherever the spirit abides, there is peace, and presence pervades everywhere without exception. Thus although kalpic fortune turns and changes, this mysterious sovereign is never destroyed. The differentiated incarnations everywhere return to Yujing and gather again in Yuanshi; what is obtained is not an increase—it remains the same perfect, wondrous aspect.

From this one knows that Yuanshi unifies the One Origin. The One Origin divides until it reaches the myriad forms; the myriad forms in full array all return to the One Origin. The transformations of the One Origin have no thread one can follow and no deliberation or discrimination. When stillness reaches its extreme, movement arises; movement is thusness (ru ru, as-it-is constancy); when movement reaches its extreme, stillness arises; stillness is likewise thusness. Whether movement and stillness alternate, divide or unite, return or depart, everywhere there is the aspect of one Yuanshi. Each according to its aspect completes a wondrous body; there is no need to force gathering in—each reverts to the original and again becomes one; yet the aspect of Yuanshi is honored within Yujing.

How subtle! This sacred realm of Yujing is solemn, situated in Daluo Heaven (the highest heaven above all heavens)—so high that nothing lies above, beyond comparison and beyond naming, utmost emptiness and utmost mystery, dwelling at the summit. Unless one possesses the pure, unified wondrous body indestructible as diamond and, through merit and arduous practice, reaches the utmost of “nothing higher,” becoming a celestial venerable, supreme sovereign, or perfected person, even craning one’s neck to look up offers no foothold—one cannot arrive in the end. Precisely because no one can reach it, its mysterious realm is unfathomable.

Only the wheel of kalpic fortune turns in cycles; all is what one has received by endowment. Therefore the Five Elders (Wufang Wulao, the elders of the five directions) together with the various true sovereigns ascended to Yujing and requested the essential teaching. They then saw Yuanshi seated in Yujing, the dharma seat majestic and rare under heaven; unmatched among all dharma realms, clear, empty, and vast, silent, light, and free—what the multitude seldom sees.

Suddenly the heavens displayed five colors in splendor, and a gang wind (the fierce wind of the celestial realm) whirled like a wheel, turning beyond the open expanse. From Yujing issued billions upon billions, beyond measure; each of those heavens manifested one Yuanshi Venerable, voicing myriad wondrous tones yet as a single wondrous tone, universally expounding to the Indra of above and below (heavenly sovereigns) and perfected persons the causes of myriad wonders, resolving karmic entanglements, lifting living beings—sometimes freeing them from suffering and sending them to the Mystic Capital (Xuan Du) to preach dependent origination. That dependent origination originates in the primordial kalpa and governs all heavens.

This subtle profundity cannot be conveyed in words. It depends entirely on each practitioner’s own realization, verification before Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun), and penetrating discernment. The state is exceedingly lofty and all-embracing: nothing lies outside it, and all celestial beings dwell within it. To behold this exalted realm, one must cut off discursive thought, sit upright in stillness, settle the mind in cross-legged meditation, and empty all appearances—as if body and mind were absent, vast as the edge of emptiness, spirit at ease and qi tranquil, with the machinations of mind stilled in deepest secrecy. Then the wondrous realm opens from that still sitting. The splendors of Yuqing (Jade Purity, the highest of the Three Pure Ones) appear like stars scattered on a net, manifesting in full array. Yuanshi’s responsive embodiment sits in silent mystery, hands joined in reverence upon the dharma seat, displaying every sign of the teaching, interfusing with my spirit. Yuanshi is condensed from a single principle; myriad qi all return to this root— utterly true and without falsity. Only one who has reached non-deception in oneself can see his spirit. How subtle! Neither empty nor solid, as if present yet absent—without ear, mouth, or nose; without sound, color, or taste; without intention, imagination, or discrimination—only thus can one accord with the subtle and gain the sight. From here the arcane teaching returns to silence, and nothing more can be said. I now indicate the wondrous Dao of Yuqing: the learner must recognize the root source, shut out thought and inference, and awaken in silent mystery; the mind must not cling to anything, not even to “nothing.” Thus one unlocks hidden causes and investigates until one merges with subtle principle. At the zi and wu hours (midnight and noon, the times for regulating breath and qi in inner practice), harmonize breath and the flow of qi until the myriad spirits within the body are all gathered and subdued. Inner and outer Taisu (primordial simplicity before form) gather every dharma-image and return all to non-being, entering the millet-sized pearl (the inner elixir pearl, fine as a grain of millet yet holding heaven and earth). Beholding heaven and earth, all is displayed: sun, moon, and stars; mountains, rivers, the Five Sacred Peaks and the Four Waterways; the myriad kinds of living beings; the great thousand worlds—every shape and sound, every color and form, complete and sufficient.

Outward form may appear clear and bright, yet each viewer reads it through their own mind. It moves beyond the furthest limit and stands upon Tian Gen—the root from which heaven and earth arise. The heaven and earth one sees are no more than a husked grain of millet. Every form and hue appears within motes of dust and whole worlds held in a single speck: nothing is absent, yet in truth nothing is possessed. This is the mysteriously subtle; how could it bear guesswork or debate? Taken to the utmost refinement, who could exhaust its depth?

I have heard that Yuan Shi (Primordial Beginning) unfolds this wondrous teaching, whose peak is wuwei (non-action). To look at emptiness is not emptiness; emptiness has nothing that can be emptied. To look at being is not being; yet once being is named, all is being. Empty yet not empty—it is emptiness upon emptiness. Being yet not being—it is being upon being. In the end, is it being or emptiness, emptiness or being? Being within emptiness is not a being that emptiness has cleared away; being does not stand as being by itself. Emptiness within being is not an emptiness that stands alone as emptiness. Empty all things, and let what is emptied appear as being—only then is it truly xuan (mysterious), xuan upon xuan.

When it lodges in heaven, it is the root of heaven and earth; when it lodges in the human person, it is the primordial ancestor of the body. Those who cultivate nature and life in the Dao cultivate this ancestral root. When the ancestral root is complete, the myriad qi (vital energies) gather as one; qi returns to ming (life-destiny), and ming governs xing (inner nature). Xing, qi, ming, Dao, xuan, zhen (truth), zu (ancestor), and gen (root) differ in name yet are one in substance—this is the wondrous Dao of Yuan Shi and the Jade Clarity (Yuqing) realm of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing).

This profound Dao (the Way) was transmitted by Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun, the Celestial Venerable of Primordial Beginning); as it passed downward, everything converged on the xuanyao—the most subtle essential instructions. The secret mechanism of this xuanyao was hidden in the purple-cloud brocade pouch within the Qingwei Palace of the Jade Clarity realm. Unless one was a true adept—deep-rooted in virtue across lifetimes, with a pure Dao foundation—one could not hear it.

Later there appeared a supreme person, religious title Lingbao, who took pity on beings below who could not hear this most profound and subtle Dao, who through countless kalpas and life after life could not find release and at the end still turned in the wheel of rebirth. He therefore manifested a Dharma body, expounded the Lingzhang (spirit chapters) in Xianglin Garden, proclaimed the golden precepts and jade rules, turned heaven and earth, lifted heaven and the human realm, benefited all sentient beings, and rescued wandering souls. These wondrous methods spread widely through Jambudvipa (the human world) and circulated in a turbid age. Cultivate according to the law and one could transcend and realize the wondrous fruit; observe the liturgical rules and devoutly practice, and the benefit would reach the six paths (heaven, human, asura, animal, hungry ghost, hell).

Yet this canon’s form and rhythm are exquisitely strict. Unless the practitioner has a pure body, pure mind, and pure conduct, the subtlety within cannot be explored. This wondrous method’s transformations are inexhaustible—even the sands of the Ganges cannot compare. Above it connects with heaven, up to heaven beyond heaven, the boundless heaven, the heaven of heaven’s mystery: there nothing has a shape to point to, nothing can contain it, yet nowhere is this Dharma not present. Where it circulates and flows, below it connects with earth, down to Fusang, the Valley of Yuyuan, and places the great earth cannot bear—nowhere is this Dharma not present. It turns and flows: released and applied, it fills the liuhe (the six directions—above, below, and the four quarters); gathered and stored, it retreats into concealment. Call it existent—it is not truly existent; take it as nonexistent—it is not sheer nothingness. When it appears it takes form; when empty it is just as empty—not something mind can measure. Pursued to the end, it cannot be put into words: it originates in the heart, yet when it responds there is no trace; coming, one can hardly see where it begins; going, there is still no end; look and you do not see it; listen and there is no sound.

What words could ultimately suffice to explain it? It fundamentally resides in the heart; in responsive communion it shows not the slightest trace. When it arrives, beginnings rarely appear; when it departs, it remains vast and boundless. Look—you cannot see it; listen—it has no sound. Creation and transformation can be wielded by oneself; Heaven and Earth are merely the conditions relied upon. Such responsive communion cannot be measured, nor can any path be found to reckon it by number or degree. How subtle! It is neither ancient nor modern, without rank or parallel—pure, empty, and profoundly hidden, beyond any clear explanation. Only the utmost adept, by the utmost subtle Dao (xuan dao), unfolds the utmost subtle method and spreads it through the world. Even the dullest person, upon hearing the subtle secret formulas (xuan jue), can put them into practice: without fail there is response, efficacy, fulfillment of intent, and accord with the heart. Thus, once people know this wondrous method, all revere, submit, and uphold it. Tracing its source, it rests on utmost truth—real, not empty. The myriad methods return to the one person: with body and mind one embodies the method, and with the method one nourishes life, so generation never ceases; through this the methods reveal their marvel, and spirit and numinous power transform until they no longer depend on fixed causes. In Jambudvipa (the human world), he is master of the dharma gate; ghosts and spirits pay homage, heaven and humans admire, and the lineage’s teaching flourishes. He can command thunder and lightning, summon wind and rain, relieve sentient beings, drive out evil and bind demons, clarify the cosmos, set human relations aright, and make virtue shine. He moves between non-being and being. The dharma gate passes from hand to hand; the utmost Dao and the full method are complete; virtue is lofty and deep, merit reaches the many, and spirit at last returns to Shangqing (the highest pure realm).

Practitioners who painstakingly investigate the profound and obscure, nourishing qi and refining the form, will find demon kings leading their retinues come to harass them. At such times one relies on this method (fa men) to subdue evil essences; then one is not bullied, can exhaust the depths of the dark mystery, and be without terror, obstruction, or veiling—only then can one devote oneself to refining qi and smelting spirit-mind. From this it is clear that this method protects every path of cultivation; none can stand outside it.

This wondrous method was personally received by Lingbao (Lingbao Tianzun) from Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun) in the Shangqing realm and composed according to profound principle—it is not lightly obtained. Lingbao dwells in the Yuyu palace of the Shangqing realm; kneading together Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate), he divided yin and yang, from odd numbers to even, from even to three, from three generating the myriad things, on to tens of thousands upon tens of thousands, even to the uncountable; then from the uncountable returning still to a single odd number, merging back into Taiji without lack or omission, with no surplus number. Therefore, examining the subtle closely, knowing that this supreme Dao each embodies wondrous methods, he wrote what he saw into this method. Hence this method is entirely the marrow of the Dao; it is not transmitted to those who have not realized the great Dao. How subtle!

I was once fortunate to behold the sacred realm of Yu Yu (one of the heavens of the Three Pure Ones within the Three Pure Ones' domain). It rests at the center of Heaven: colors radiant and resplendent, atmosphere clear and luminous, form vast and open, essence pure and unstained. Nothing is lacking in it; no principle fails to be held within it—myriad forms arrayed, countless images densely spread. In stillness it seems empty of all things, yet in truth nothing is absent; in movement every trace appears, yet in essence it has no fixed shape. Countless true lords and myriad sovereigns, sages, immortals, and spirits, together with Buddhas and the great assembly of Bodhi—all dwell within it. Down to ordinary people, the foolish, and the unworthy, each still possesses an innate Lingbao (the luminous treasure inherent in every person): exquisitely subtle and profound, capable of limitless transformation, the most divine and wondrous method. Only once one falls into the postnatal world (the conditioned realm after birth), all manner of obstructions arise, veiling the platform of spirit (where the heart-mind resides), so that every wondrous method and miraculous change can no longer manifest. Day by day one sinks and is buried, drifting further from original authenticity. When authenticity is lost, the ten thousand methods vanish with it. How lamentable! Lose it once and all is lost, with nothing remaining—falling into the fiery pit (the cycle of bitter suffering), still turning without cease, no different from creatures that merely stir and crawl. Is that not heartbreakingly sad?

The scripture describes the realm of divine power where Shangqing dwells—one of the three heavens of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) in Daoist cosmology—a scene of luminous solemnity in which every furnishing is surpassingly fine. The Yu Yu Palace stands in dignified splendor; above it hangs a ceremonial canopy, while five-colored clouds coil from all four sides and emit five-colored light that illumines every corner of the great thousand worlds, so that all places turn five-hued. Auspicious radiance is clear and penetrating, with nowhere left in shadow. From this realm issues a subtle, wondrous fragrance that becomes a mist of harmonious vapor, spreading through all heavens and all lands. Every celestial being who inhales this transcendental qi—the refined breath of the heavens, in line with Daoist practices of “eating qi” and “ingesting qi”—finds complete satisfaction and never wearies. Because of this supreme vision, all such beings gather beneath it. In an instant the sacred realm of Shangqing opens wide, revealing pavilions and towers, jade-like blossoms, jewels, trees of jade with gem-like branches, immortal birds and exotic beasts—each with its own name, their forms beyond full description. Palaces, halls, terraces, and towers appear, ablaze with gold and jade, draped in rosy clouds. True sages, mysterious lords, and lofty adepts wear star crowns, gird swords, and tread ritual shoes; their jade pendants chime as they come and go, each manifesting a marvelous aspect. There are also celestial children and jade maidens with cloud coifs and jeweled hairpins, wearing fine jade and colored robes, each holding a wish-fulfilling Mani pearl as they circle before the Dao. Suddenly the forms of the Celestial Venerable and divine beings appear—strange and awe-inspiring—each wielding sharp blades, bows, halberds, and spears, with three heads and eyes that see and speak, six arms each holding its own implement, standing in a ring as guardians, their transformations without end. The celestial beings gaze from afar, unable to draw near, and all praise this realm as rare beyond compare, with none dissenting.

Such marvelous realms are rarely seen or heard of, and even more rarely reached. They are utterly mysterious and subtle, almost beyond words. Yet within them lies mystery still deeper—probing it is truly beyond measure. Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) holds all in one undifferentiated whole; the ten thousand forms are fully present within it. A single grain of millet can hold all worlds; a mustard seed can contain Mount Sumeru; the tip of a hair can raise a Buddhist sanctuary; a mote of dust can display every kind of sacred image; sound from one opening can multiply into myriads of voices; breath from one aperture can transform into countless shapes. In an instant the sun and moon wheel at will; wind and thunder roar without restraint. From being, non-being is made; what was not is, and yet is not—neither wholly real nor wholly illusory; creation follows no fixed rule.

The sages of Lingbao (Spiritual Treasure) utter vast and subtle sounds, opening the Daozang (Daoist Canon) for the true lords, proclaiming immeasurable Dharma gates, and transmitting the liturgy of pure non-duality. Golden talismans and jade registers, liturgical codes strict and clear—the supreme heart-seal (xin yin, the highest mind-to-mind teaching) is passed in secret. Their texts are golden in letter and jade in substance, cinnabar and yellow in wondrous hue—limitless mystery writings, handed from heaven to humanity and spread in the world, so people may practice according to the rites. In compassionate deliverance from calamity, each Celestial Worthy (Tianzun) has sent down to the human realm what was received—the Lingbao heart-seal, wondrous methods truly transmitted, and golden precepts and jade rules—to save the world. When they meet a true person of lofty virtue fit to receive the teaching, they confer it upon them.

Thus the jade bureau was established—the solemn seat from which the Dao is transmitted—and guidance was given in person, opening the teaching to insight. The instruction reached distant borderlands and was handed down to later generations; none dared fail to follow it. Moved by this compassionate intent, people everywhere undertook arduous cultivation, so that this path might continue without end. Through countless kalpas it steadied heaven and earth, harmonized Yin-Yang, blended primordial qi (the original breath of all things), and nourished sentient beings, so that both the hidden realm of ghosts and the bright realm of the living shared in its benefit—ascending to become immortals, settling the Five Sacred Mountains, overseeing the five directions, and extending its teaching even to grass and trees, without exception.

This wondrous method: when the Son of Heaven received it, he could bring about an age of Great Peace; when feudal lords received it, they could secure the foundation of good order; when scholars and common people received it, they straightened themselves within; when birds and beasts received it, their innate nature grew luminous; when insects received it, they preserved life; when plants received it, they flourished in growth; when mountains and rivers received it, numinous presences gathered there; when lakes and seas received it, marvels were stored within them. Cultivators who received this supreme method rested in the right place and accorded with innate genuineness (tianzhen); the Confucian tradition received it and its civilization flourished; the Buddhist tradition (Shijia) received it and could behold true nature. All insentient things—even without sound or color—once they received this wondrous method, each awakened to its own source; karmic beings in the hidden and manifest realms who received it were forever freed from the wheel of rebirth. From this one knows the wondrous method is beyond thought, beyond imagination, beyond words, and beyond pointing. From the self one contemplates things; from things, principle; from principle, number; from number, Heaven; from Heaven, the Dao; from the Dao, the method; through method forms arise, through form shape, through shape substance, through substance name, through name things, through things the human, through the human teaching is completed.

Thus arose the Supreme Venerable Lord (Taishang Laojun), who honored and transmitted the methods of the Lingbao lineage, setting an example for later generations. From this we know that the wondrous methods of Shangqing (the pure realm of upper clarity) opened the teaching of Dao and De—vast and boundless. Could anything be more subtle and ultimate? Could anything be more subtle and ultimate?

This Supreme Venerable Lord issued from Yuanshi (Yuanshi Tianzun); through Lingbao he was handed down and descended into the world of dust, manifesting all kinds of numinous signs. When his sacred body was born, his hair and beard were already white as snow. Of every depth hidden in language and writing, he needed no teacher to instruct him—each he grasped in its main point, each he understood in its finest detail.

Every karmic tie before the great kalpa (the cosmic cycles of formation and destruction), he knew one by one; every way of the Dao after the kalpa, he penetrated throughout. Upward he exhausted Heaven: every mystery Heaven bears, he fully realized; downward he exhausted Earth, to the very netherworld—every secret he saw clearly; in between he mastered human affairs—human relations and moral virtue, rites and music and statecraft, measures and written culture. The highest principle was deep and subtle; the supreme essentials of the Dao were mysterious—every main thread and fine strand, root and branch, he understood completely, and heart answered heart in mutual confirmation.

The sage Confucius (Mount Ni was his birthplace) deeply praised him, calling him unmatched in antiquity and unparalleled in the present. His native endowment was numinous, his talent extraordinary; he saw through the hidden and possessed vast spiritual power and boundless efficacy. He pitied living beings who rarely heard the Great Dao, as if deaf and blind, their minds dim and confused; therefore he unfolded the numinous text and composed the five thousand characters (the Daodejing), exalting Dao and De and clarifying clarity, tranquility, and wuwei (non-action)—the most mysterious true essentials—so that profound meaning shone forth, the teaching was complete, and no essential aim was left out.

In that age there lived a perfect person who hid himself among low-ranking officials, serving as warden of Hangu Pass. His religious name was Xi—the figure later known as Yin Xi. From birth he was numinous and unusually intelligent; in a glance he could take in a thousand lines of text. He read widely and delved deeply into abstruse principle, yet no one transmitted the Great Dao to him, and he always remained one step short of full penetration.

Before long the Supreme Venerable (Taishang Laozi, the Supreme Venerable Lord) sent forth a vast beam of light that shone upon this place. Knowing that the extraordinary person born here was truly a vessel fit to receive the Great Dao and to carry its teaching forward, he mounted a blue ox and traveled west through Hangu Pass.

At that time the perfect person was sitting in quiet meditation, gazing inward with a subtle, deep regard (mian), and foreknew that a true person (zhenren) would come from the east. He poured out the sincerity he had long stored up, knelt by the roadside, and begged for the hidden essentials of the Mysterious Gate. The Supreme Venerable knew he was the one to whom the Way could be passed, and composed the Scripture of the Way and Virtue (Daode Zhenjing) and transmitted it to him.

The perfect person heard it and at once awakened in great enlightenment, suddenly understanding through and through. He thereby obtained the wondrous treasure of heaven and earth, never lightly shared, so that the highest teaching might flow on forever and cover the boundless. He also composed the nine chapters of the Scripture of the Initiation of the Word (Wenshi Zhenjing) to unfold the Way and its Virtue (Dao and De).

When the Supreme Venerable saw that this subtle Way had found a transmitter and the supreme teaching was established—so that later ages could rely on it forever—he returned to primordial unity (yi qi) and went back to the Great Scarlet Palace in the Grand Clarity (Taiqing) heaven, there to be the patriarch of the Dao.

This celestial palace stands in the realm of Grand Clarity, the deepest and most secret pivot among all heavens and worlds. Every Celestial Venerable (Tianzun), Indra (the lord of the gods among the heavens), and True Ruler, along with sages, immortals, and the bodhi patriarchs of the Buddhist path, must pass through this day to verify the mystery; only after hearing this secret purport may they enter the immortal ranks of the Great Canopy Heaven (Daluo tian).

This palace is the key to entering the profound. All supreme sages of action and non-action (youwei and wuwei), and all supreme spirits and true persons, if they wish to behold the numinous countenance of the Lingbao teaching and ascend further to glimpse the majesty of the Jade Clarity (Yuqing) holy realm, must pass through this day and undergo its mystery before they may be blessed with the sight.

Grand Clarity heaven is the capital of immortals and gods. Its realms and every surpassing scene differ entirely from the ordinary: rare flowers, strange and fragrant, brilliantly colored, seldom seen in daily life. There are hills, streams, grotesque rocks, extraordinary trees, spirit cliffs and sheer ravines, hiding patterned tigers, variegated leopards, dark qilin, white cranes, blue birds, red phoenixes, and the like—each kind distinct, shifting in manifestation, uncanny and each with its own vista.

Within appear also Yuntai and Fangzhang, brocade pavilions and carved columns, cinnabar roof beams (meng) and painted railings; streets paved with white jade, steps built of gold (zhou), five-colored gems strewn across the ground. Inside dwell the True Ruler of the Upper Mystery, great sage Celestial Venerables, feathered masters in yellow caps, and golden lads and jade maidens, each robed in garments woven from five-colored cloud and mist, moving at ease, coming and going in freedom, naturally joyful. There are also divine generals and cloud generals of the heavens, some driving twisted dragons (qiu), some riding red tigers, each holding precious implements, circling to guard the heavens.

At that time, Taishang (Taishang Laojun, the Supreme Lord) sat in silent repose, eyes lowered toward his knees, and did not speak to proclaim the teaching. Then the Five Sovereigns (the Five Directional Sovereigns, also called the Five Elders below) knelt long before the table—the original text marks the posture as ji (kneeling upright on the heels with the torso erect)—and begged him to bestow instruction. They bowed low in reverent restraint and did not dare rise at once. Taishang’s kindly face suddenly brightened, as if the sky had cleared, and he pointed out the subtle meaning for the Five Elders, saying with deep feeling: “My supreme teaching was long ago set down in a scripture called the Daode (Daode Jing). I entrusted it to Yin Xi (traditionally the keeper of Hangu Pass, who received the scripture when Laozi left the pass) for transmission among people. Whoever holds to this teaching and cultivates accordingly can enter the immortal path.”

Then each of the Five Sovereigns reported before the Dao: “This Daode and the Qingjing Zhenjing (Scripture of Clarity and Stillness)—their meaning is profound and far-reaching (in the text, ‘xuan’ appears in an alternate form for ‘profound’). Cultivators whose foundation is shallow seldom glimpse their hidden purport. We earnestly beg your sacred compassion to indicate the essential mystery.”

Then Taishang said to the Five Sovereigns: “This utmost true principle is the mystery within the Dao; it cannot be conveyed by words alone—you must investigate it with the heart. If people seek only in language and writing, all will treat it superficially; without a master’s transmission, reckless guessing mostly falls into side paths (methods that stray from the correct Way). Therefore one first teaches clarity and stillness and wuwei (non-action), gathering in all external defilement and deluded stirring (foreign taint and distracting thoughts that disturb the mind), and only then points to the first hint of the utmost Dao’s subtle mystery, so that people may gradually awaken and silently unite with true profundity. Now that you repeatedly ask me for the main points, I will expound for you—you should listen in stillness.”

Taiqing (the Great Clarity) occupies the center of Heaven and is the pivot of Heaven's rotation; it is called the "Xuan Guan" (the Mysterious Pass—the pass where pre-heaven and post-heaven Qi meet in internal alchemy). Heaven, Earth, humanity, and the myriad things all arise from this "Heaven"; it exists before Earth. With this "Heaven," Qi can flow through. In the beginning when there was no form and no image, within the imageless there lay a layer of profound principle, nurturing and storing Yuan Qi (primordial innate Qi) so that it could be preserved for long. Pre-heaven and post-heaven, as well as Heaven, Earth, mountains, rivers, and all beings—if not for this "Heaven" cycling and transforming without cease, the flow of Qi would stop. Therefore all immortals, buddhas, sages, and true lords, if they do not penetrate this "Heaven," cannot behold the Jade Clarity realm (the Jade Clarity realm among the Three Pure Ones). This is precisely what cultivators should urgently seek once their De (Virtue) is sufficient.

Formerly in the world, I observed Heaven through my own body and thus saw that my body too enters the mysterious realm through Taiqing. Within it, the Xuan Guan governs all Qi; pre-heaven and post-heaven are both distinguished here. It marks the boundary of Yin-Yang and establishes the gateway of Water and Fire. What is above does not merely stay above—it must connect downward; what is below does not merely stay below—it must connect upward. For above and below to connect, one must pass through this pass; for left to meet right and right to meet left, one must also pass through this pass, and then return to oneness. To lead Yin to join Yang, one must cross this pass; to lead Yang to assist Yin, one must also cross this pass. True Water crosses the pass to assist Fire; True Fire crosses the pass to assist Water. Water and Fire blend in harmony, issuing from one source; Yin and Yang unite and return to Taiji (the undifferentiated origin of Yin and Yang). Taiji divides into the Two Modes (Liangyi), and the Two Modes merge back into one—all converging at this single pass, with none able to bypass it.

This Xuan Guan is located at the center of the navel—neither above nor below, neither left nor right, neither front nor back, neither shallow nor deep. The two Qi regard each other and meet in silent union, merging Shen (spirit) and Jing (essence); at first they arise and cover from below, ultimately seeking to ascend. It is neither empty nor solid, without form and without sound; form and sound both vanish, and its state cannot be named.

All who cultivate the Way must sit cross-legged in stillness, calm the breath, clear away every stray thought, and subdue the Yuanshen—the innate primordial spirit—so that the inner mind is not stirred by outer things and worldly ties do not cling from without. Let every sentient and insentient being, and every demonic obstruction, come one after another; even if they speak, give them no answering mind—cast them off entirely, neither looking nor listening. Only in such quiet, with no cause for attachment, can the true primordial essence silently transform and circulate. It rises from the Qihai—the place in the lower Dantian where primordial Qi gathers—up to Taiqing (one of the Three Pure Ones); from Taiqing it pervades the whole body and every realm of the Dharma, reaching the Yuyu Palace of Shangqing (another of the Three Pure Ones). Following the flow of Qi, it passes through the office that governs the inflow and outflow of breath, ascends to unite with Yuqing (the third of the Three Pure Ones), then turns and descends, extending its benefit to the Great Red Palace in Taiqing. There it merges with the Dharma treasures of the Three Treasures into a single realm, becoming Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) in one undivided whole. By the wondrous operation of the primordial, a vast foundation is opened and all attendant spirits and retinues are taken in without omission. Only then can the Yuanshen be gathered and settled within; the retinues of every lineage surround and protect one, as if sitting inside an iron citadel, entering a deep inner chamber, standing on the highest peak, or sinking into the broadest abyss—visible to no one. This is the palaces and halls of the heavens. The celestial palaces also display scenes for enjoyment and offer jade nectar and spirit wine to drink; auspicious light coils on every side, illuminating the entire realm of Wuwei (non-action). The true lords who preside over the heavens guide together; incense and flowers fill every place, offerings are complete—and thus one may ascend to the immortal ranks of Daluo Heaven, the highest heaven. This is the most crucial point, extremely subtle and profound—not something easily attained. You Five Elders of the five directions each guard this person with your own being, so that he may realize the true wondrous fruit.

I once heard of this most profound and wondrous Way, and came to understand that this body, this mind, and this principle all arise from the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing)—the three supreme celestial lords of Daoism and their realm of purity. A person, bearing the body first received at birth, passes from the Taiqing realm to the Yuqing realm, and that body is then no different from Heaven. The wondrous Way of the Three Pure Ones can be sought within oneself; everyone possesses it fully from the start, without lack. Yet this wondrous Way was transmitted by the Supreme Venerable (Taishang)—subtle beyond measure, mysterious beyond measure. Even if one expounds it with all one’s strength, beginners who have not received proper transmission from a master still have no way to begin.

Now in the world I widely offer the nourishing milk of the Dharma, opening the gate of skillful means and pointing out a path that is somewhat easier to enter. For Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism I explain in turn the good roots of cultivation, so that later students may practice according to the method. Even if they do not yet fully grasp the subtle mystery of the utmost Way, as long as they earnestly put it into practice, they may still gain something. All you disciples should set aside views that discriminate same and different or cling to self and other. Listen carefully without obstruction, and together verify this root of cultivation.

What matters in a human body is above all Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit). Guard the essence, nourish the Qi, settle the spirit in peace, and keep hidden the inner mysterious ruler—the subtle root that governs body and mind—so that it is not lost or ruined. The key to this work is first to purify the six roots (the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind). Once the six thieves (desires stirred by the six roots that disturb the mind) are subdued, the seven emotions have no ground to arise. Without emotional entanglement, there is no suffering; without suffering, there is no emotional imagining; without emotional imagining, there is no deluded mind. Then this mind is pure and wuwei (non-action), like the Great Void—holding all things, yet as if holding nothing. Neither clinging to emptiness nor clinging to existence, obstacles begin to fall away. Without obstacles, nothing is without spirit; with spirit one becomes divine; being divine one penetrates; penetrating, nothing is impenetrable—and thus one understands that mysterious principle.

I tell those who cultivate: at the outset you must take inner stillness and clarity as your foundation. To achieve stillness and clarity, you must have sincerity; for sincerity, you must have reverence; for reverence, you must have careful restraint. Careful restraint means not speaking empty words, not acting rashly, not giving rise to wandering thoughts, and not planting false causes. When even false causes are gone, though you remain amid noise and turmoil, delusion no longer arises. Because delusion is absent, the mind is at peace and holds to one thing without scattering elsewhere—what the early Confucians called “maintaining unity without diversion”—and in this way sincerity is preserved. When sincerity is thus kept, you return to stillness and clarity; when stillness and clarity reach their depth, clear awakening arises of itself. Because there is clarity, there is power to act.

Confucians who earnestly practice all the norms of human relations, with no guilt in the heart, may advance in virtue and aspire to sagehood, aligning with Heaven. Buddhists who practice contemplate emptiness and realize it, yet this is not the dead emptiness of doing nothing; they seek the Buddha within the mind, verifying the Buddha with the mind—mind is Buddha and Buddha is mind—and in this they accord with the Tathāgata. Those in the Daoist path who resolve to cultivate must make their conduct solid: first govern primordial Qi with Shen (spirit), then gather Jing (essence) through Qi. When Jing is full, all Qi is full; when Qi is full, all Shen is full. Shen fills Qi, Qi fills Jing, and Jing in turn fills Shen—when these three are thus complete, the Great Elixir (the fundamental fruit of internal alchemy) is achieved.

Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, though they stand as separate traditions, trace to one ultimate source—the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the root of all transformation; follow them from origin to end, and they converge again in the Taiji. Not only do they begin and end in the Taiji—fundamentally there is no second or third principle. Their practice moves from knowing to doing, from reverence to sincerity, from sincerity to stillness, from stillness to clarity, from clarity to spirit—the sequence does not differ. Only Confucianism emphasizes the investigation of things (gewu), so its teaching leans toward the concrete; Buddhism cultivates stillness and illuminates the essential nature of mind (xingti) without cultivating the root of life (mingyuan), so its teaching leans toward emptiness. Daoism dual-cultivates nature and life (xingming shuangxiu): it first secures the root, then probes the profound pivot—empty yet not mere void, substantial yet not dead utility. Thus this teaching unifies Heaven, Earth, and humanity with nothing outside it. The Dao—how ultimate it is!

It stands before any beginning, giving birth to Heaven and Earth, people and things, turning and nurturing past and present, vast and filling the cosmos; it enters the hidden and emerges in the manifest, delivering and saving beings. Whether as Confucian or Buddhist, becoming sage or worthy, Buddha or bodhisattva—all is within this one Dao, divided in two yet united in one. Even kings, marquises, generals, and ministers who cultivate this wondrous Dao find fortune and emolument flourishing and can govern the realm and settle the people; when a sage emperor cultivates it, the dynasty’s fate runs long and without end. Alas, how great this Dao! It drives the cycles of kalpa and timely conjunction, makes the great earth firm, moves the four seasons, raises and lowers Yin and Yang, and runs their interplay; it gathers the Taiji, guards the heavenly root (tiāngēn, the root of generation)— unseen, unheard, yet responding to events with transformation, miraculous to the utmost.

Those who cultivate the Dao can unite with the subtle mystery—the fine essence of the Way—and refine and nurture Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit). They establish the root of life, guard their true origin, gradually awaken to what is originally so, and personally behold nature (ziran). They then amass three thousand accomplishments and eight hundred deeds, with merit and practice broad and deep, and in this way attain certification as a Golden Immortal—a perfected immortal of the highest rank. Next, from Taiqing (one of the Three Pure Ones), they receive the Lingbao method through tranquil Wuwei (non-action), and expound the Jade Pure and Yuanshi ultimate-oneness of the Dao. Accumulating every kind of merit and performing every kind of practice, vowing through kalpa upon kalpa, they establish immeasurable, incomparable merit. When their achievements are complete, they personally receive the Jade Emperor’s mandate and become the supreme, Wuwei, true mysterious sovereign of Great Brahma Heaven—the highest celestial realm—titled Heavenly Lord, coexistent with heaven and earth.

How subtle and wondrous! Disciples should listen carefully to this teaching, each grasping the most mysterious Dao and its subtle causes and conditions, cultivating according to the law, giving rise to great wisdom, with undivided mind and no doubt. The true sovereigns of the ten directions protect them in secret; all demon kings bow their heads. In this life they may enjoy long years; or receive favor and rank until they stand at the pinnacle of ministers; or dwell on famous mountains in carefree joy. Heavenly nobility and honor are unmatched. Therefore this scripture is preached, to be handed down forever to later generations. The wondrous Dao is supreme; its method has no equal and no peer—all sentient and non-sentient beings alike receive the benefit of this scripture.

Praise of the True Lord of Wide Transformation: The precious law is one with empty mystery—unprecedented. The primordial sovereign transforms and opens the dark firmament. Spiritual response fills the nine heavens; the red writ unfolds. Myriad laws return to the source and revert to the One. The subtle moral teaching is transmitted as teaching through symbols; in a turbid age the heart of heaven is revealed. The aspect of Upper Pure Peng’e is hard to behold; Yubo Boluo turns the wheel of the law. The mysterious writ ascends and opens the azure expanse; cloud-seal script congeals in emptiness and manifests Shiqing. Jade talismans descend from heaven, embracing the great kalpa; transformation without end extends to the Jade Capital. Orchid groves release fragrance; hills and valleys shift; bird-seal script forms chapters and steadies the jade measure. Roots bind tight; the celestial root is firm; the thirty-six palaces all hold spring’s breath. The true master expounds meaning mysterious beyond mystery: the ascent that opens the azure expanse, cloud-seal script congealing in emptiness, Shiqing made manifest.

Jade talismans are promulgated from on high, enough to melt away ages of great calamity; generation upon generation without end, all at last returning to Yujing, the jade capital of the celestial realm. Orchid-grove fragrance wells up, and hills, valleys, and streams are transformed; chapters in bird-seal script steady the heavenly order signified by the Jade Balance. Roots are knotted deep and firm, the congenital root (tiangen) of internal alchemy cannot be torn loose; the thirty-six palaces—the bodily loci—each hold the breath of spring. The true master discloses the utmost mystery; through the karmic tie of a single word, one may authenticate the supreme Dao.

Postface to Master Liu’s Three Grades True Scripture

As the saying goes: heaven and earth, warp and weft, weave a brilliant text; what the seas hoard and rivers hold in scripture unfolds meaning subtle as sand-grains on a riverbed. The jade hall of the teaching has long stood wide open, and heaven and earth are filled with the mingling, converging breath of yin and yang; sutras on palm-leaf are widely rendered, and the three vehicles of teaching exhaust every “ladder” phrase that leads beings out of the world. Sages ancient and modern pass on the mind-seal; immortals and buddhas hand down the lamp without break—now carved in metal and stone, now written on silk. Even if one added to the tally of five thousand and forty-eight scrolls, that would still not measure the classics’ true aim. Immortal scriptures and august patterns display the cosmos, bright as sun, moon, and stars, their light reaching above and below—how could one count them like tallying by candle-flame? Why bother, then, to speak of grades at all?

Our Emperor Master Fuyou (the honorific of Lü Dongbin, Lord Fuyou) vowed without measure to save beings, appeared in the world to teach, and broadly rescued those astray—compassion offering convenience everywhere, pitying the foolish of the lower realm as they sink day by day deeper into bewilderment.

My master, Imperial Teacher Fuyou (the honorific title of Lü Dongbin), made the boundless vow to deliver sentient beings on a vast scale. He appeared in person to teach the Dharma and universally rescue the deluded masses. Out of compassion he always offered people what they needed. He pitied the lower world, where ordinary folk grew ever more ignorant and sank deeper day by day, while heterodox teachings spread like a raging flood with ever more extravagant claims. People not only failed to inquire into the roots of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism); they mocked and attacked one another instead. The right path lay waste, and the sages’ words were blocked. Had not my master Imperial Teacher Fuyou raised his voice and opened wide the path of awakening, ritual and music would almost have fallen to the ground and human hearts would almost have rotted away.

In the Renwu year he descended to the human realm riding a crane, alighting at Xiawei (where the Han River enters the Yangtze, roughly the Wuhan region today). He gathered disciples, formed the Hantan Altar (the “Embracing the Three” altar), expounded the numinous chapters, and spread the orthodox teaching. After more than ten years, in the Renchen year the work was finished and sent to be carved and printed. This scripture thoroughly clarifies the aims of the Three Teachings; its meaning is profound: what was divided is reunited, what had split into two paths becomes one, what was dark is made clear, what was doubtful is made plain. In sum it unveils heaven and earth’s secrets and greatly illuminates the subtle truths of past and present. It is truly a rare authentic text and a supreme mysterious treasure register (baolu), able to serve as a bridge for later students and enlighten those who come after. Such merit—how could I, Qi, ever fully describe it, or dare to praise it?

Looking back over several decades, in every effort connected with this scripture I, Qi, was fortunate to stand among the attendants, doing what little I could to assist, running to and fro, and often receiving generous treatment—drinking the milk of the Dharma and hearing the wondrous teaching, glimpsing a fraction of the Great Dao at the holy master’s side. This was indeed the karmic affinity of the disciples of the Hantan Altar, yet it all arose from my master Imperial Teacher Fuyou’s tireless instruction and encouragement, which brought this great undertaking to completion. After the great canon was carved, my master attained the supreme jade-pure fruit position (the highest fruition in the jade-pure realm among the Three Pure Ones, Sanqing), and the disciples also received boundless benefit.

It is only to be regretted that in the past twenty-odd years study and transmission have gradually declined and circulation has not been wide; some have even worried over this scripture. Fortunately we have Sun Shoushu of Jinling (today’s Nanjing)—referred to in the text as “Sunzi”—who long admired the Mysterious Gate (xuanmen), had already taken his place in the Dao, drew near to this legacy, beheld this great text with joy, reverently received it, and vowed to exert himself to reprint it so it might circulate widely. He also feared that if the scripture were bound as scrolls, its solemnity might make those who revered ritual and precepts unable to study it morning and evening and put it into practice—seeming to hinder the sage’s intent to bestow widely. He therefore asked that it be made into simple booklets and bound in cases. The one who devoutly copied it was Jiezi Ke of Shangyuan (today’s Jiangning area, Nanjing). When the work was done, he asked me to record the whole course of events in a postface to the scripture.

A perfected person can exhaust the wondrous and penetrate creation—there is no one to compare with him. When he unfolds supreme principle and searches broadly, there is no limit. Though the subtlety of the Dao has already shown itself in probing the hidden and seeking the obscure, for the written word to be widely proclaimed one must still rely on someone who can order the threads of principle. That the mysterious teaching is upheld by a disciple of such sincerity is enough to prop up half the southeast.

When I, Liu Qi, reflect on the boundless resolve of the Future-Favoring Imperial Teacher (Fuyou Dishi, Lü Dongbin, honored in Daoism as Fuyou Dijun) to deliver beings, can one not find some measure of consolation in it! It may be foreseen that this book will spread its grace to the remotest shores, so that all living beings may hear the essentials of the Dao and behold the true purport. Thus this portion of scripture ranks among the classics of the third grade (sanpin jingdian); from one it passes to two, from two to three, on through ten, hundred, thousand, and ten thousand, until in every person’s heart and before every eye this third-grade classic stands present. The power of its merit truly cannot be fully illumined or exhaustively counted. Master Sun’s merit in circulating and promoting it, and Master Jie’s painstaking effort in tracing and copying—will not the blessings they accumulate also endure together with this classic? I have had the good fortune to witness this and, presuming upon my station, have taken up the brush to record the sequence of events before and after, inscribing them at the end of the volume, in the hope that those who learn of it in the world hereafter will exert themselves to cultivate their virtue. This is the present record.

The time was the first ten days of the first month of the year Bimao in the ganzhi cycle (the year yimao). Liu Qi, disciple of the Hongjiao Zhenren (Perfected One Who Expounds the Teaching) of Fangshan, bowed in reverence and composed this.

The titles of the scriptures listed in the preface to Cantong Jing (Scripture of Joining and Uniting), volumes 16–18, give the full name as Tai Shang Yan Jiu Jie Xiao Zai Ci Fu Jie E Bao Yun Zheng Zhen Cantong Miao Jing—the wondrous scripture of joining and uniting, proclaimed by the Most High (Tai Shang), for rescuing from kalpic calamity, dispelling disaster, bestowing blessing, resolving misfortune, securing fortune, and verifying authenticity. “Cantong” (joining and uniting) means to gather essential points into one thread and return them to a single principle.

Upper fascicle: Chapter 1, “Origin of the Dharma Assembly,” explains why the assembly arose; Chapter 2, “Revealing the Mysterious Essentials”; Chapter 3, “Reverence toward Heaven and Earth”; Chapters 4–6, in order: “Purifying Bodily Karma,” “Cutting Off Verbal Karma,” and “Checking Mental Karma,” respectively requiring pure conduct, abstention from harmful speech, and restraint of unwholesome thoughts (body, mouth, and mind are the three kinds of karmic cause: action, speech, and intention); Chapter 7, “Investigating the Root of Nature,” probes the foundation of innate nature; Chapter 8, “Cultivating Virtue and Condensing the Dao,” cultivating virtue to attain the Dao; Chapter 9, “Earnestly Fulfilling Human Relations,” treating family and social bonds with sincerity; Chapter 10, “Exhausting Loyalty and Dedication,” giving one’s utmost in loyal service.

Middle fascicle: Chapter 11, “Clarifying Principle and Dispelling Doubt,” distinguishing truth and resolving perplexity; Chapter 12, “Being Careful in Serving Teachers and Choosing Friends,” prudence toward masters and companions; Chapter 13, “Heeding and Honoring the Source of Transformation,” vigilance and respect toward the root of teaching and change.

Chapter Fourteen, “Preserving and Guarding the True Primordial”: conserve the innate true primordial (the original primordial true qi) and do not let it dissipate. Chapter Fifteen, “Cultivating and Upholding Good Conduct”: practice and esteem virtuous action. Chapter Sixteen, “Strictly Discerning the True Confucian Way”: clearly distinguish the genuine path of the Confucian sage. Chapter Seventeen, “Secrets of the Mysterious Gate”: “xuan” (the deep and subtle) stands for the same sense as in xuanguan—the subtle gate in internal alchemy; this chapter treats its hidden teaching. Chapter Eighteen, “Fire Phases and Medicinals”: huohou is the rhythm of advance and retreat in refinement; the “medicinals” are one’s own jing, qi, and shen. Chapter Nineteen, “The Chan School’s Upward Path”: the Chan tradition’s (Buddhist teaching of seeing mind and nature) path of direct ascent. Chapter Twenty, “Admonishing the Chan Current”: warnings for those who practice Chan. Chapter Twenty-One, “Harmonizing the Three and Returning to the One”: Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism are brought together and resolved in the One.

The lower fascicle, Taishang’s Sutra for Saving from Calamity, Dispelling Disaster, Bestowing Blessings, Resolving Misfortune, Guarding Fortune, Verifying Truth, and Harmonizing in the Mysterious: Taishang (the supreme venerable lord, often identified with Taishang Laojun) expounds this scripture to deliver beings through calamities, dispel disasters, grant blessings, resolve adversity, protect fortune, and verify truth; cantong means to align and unite in one understanding.

Chapter Twenty-Two, “Preserving Through Calamity Only by Goodness”: surviving the age’s disasters depends entirely on good deeds. Chapter Twenty-Three, “Heaven and Human Share One Principle”: the way of Heaven and human affairs follow the same principle. Chapter Twenty-Four, “Sustaining Prosperity Lies in Virtue”: lasting flourishing rests on moral character. Chapter Twenty-Five, “Clear Verification of Causes and Conditions”: causes and conditions all have evident proof. Chapter Twenty-Six, “Retribution for Sin and Blessing”: wrongdoing and merit each receive their due response. Chapter Twenty-Seven, “Spirits and Ghosts as Witness”: spirits and ghosts bear witness to good and evil. Chapter Twenty-Eight, “Dharma and Body as One Suchness”: the essential nature of all dharmas is originally one. Chapter Twenty-Nine, “Explaining the Scripture’s Meaning”: interpretation of this sutra’s doctrine. Chapter Thirty, “Revering and Trusting the Holy Teaching”: honor and faithfully accept the sacred teaching. Chapter Thirty-One, “Revering and Bowing to the Stars”: gaze upon and worship the stars (such as the Northern Dipper) to seek blessings and avert disaster. Chapter Thirty-Two, “Summing Up Cultivation and Verification”: a general account of the essentials of practice and realization. Short Preface to the Cantong Sutra: the brief introductory preface to this scripture.

The revelation of the Can Tong Jing—Patriarch Lü’s descent to compose the text through planchette writing—began in the year Guichou and was finished in Jiwei, seven years in all. The work was first planned for southern Guizhou, but among those who led it, Li Kexiu returned to Henan, Tu Jingcheng left office, and Yao, Sun, Hong, and others went their separate ways, so only Deng Dongyan and I struggled to keep it going; Dongyan then traveled far into Yunnan, the original plan fell through, and what had been set for Guizhou was carried out instead in Hubei. Of those who helped in the back-and-forth of the project, my nephew Yuncheng did the most. Mr. Huang Yixing’s preface tells the story in detail. The preface to the Wupin Jing says: “Patriarch Lü showed special care for the Three Chu (Hunan and Hubei)—a hundredfold more than for Wuling (the Chang’an region)!” The Patriarch’s compassionate work of saving the world is one and the same for all; there is no partiality. Yet when the Bapin Jing was revealed in different places, only in Chu did it happen again and again: the Wupin at Qizhen, the Sanpin and Can Tong at Hansan—inside and outside Ezhou. Is that not because at the mouth of Taoyuan Cave, at Yueyang Tower, at Yellow Crane Terrace, miraculous traces appear again and again—places where immortals have always been seen? And the prophecy of “eight hundred in Longsha” (eight hundred true immortals due to appear in their time) awaits its season; that time cannot be far off. Du Yujing of southern Yunnan especially trusted this scripture, taking it for the utmost in purity and as the inner counterpart of the Confucian Six Classics. He was quite right.

Preface to the Can Tong Miao Jing

Is there really such a thing as karmic affinity in human affairs? When the First Patriarch Bodhidharma came by sea from the west, it was because affinity lay in Zhendan (the old name for China). Later he met Shenguang (the Chan Second Patriarch Huike) and passed on the Buddhist mind-seal, so that to this day everyone knows the ancestral intent of the Western arrival. Is Patriarch Lü not the same?

Indeed, affairs under heaven truly unfold through karmic affinity! Long ago the First Patriarch Bodhidharma crossed the sea from the west and came east because the conditions for it existed in Zhèn-dàn—the ancient name for the Central Realm. Later he met Shenguang (who became the Second Patriarch of Chan, Huike) and transmitted the seal of the Buddha’s mind—the method of pointing directly from mind to mind. To this day people still speak of “the patriarch’s intent from the West.”

When Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) expounded the Scripture of Unity and Transformation (Cāntóng Jīng), it was likewise because people from several provinces came together in one stroke of affinity and thus produced that great work. Tracing it back, it really began with Liu Qingxu, a licentiate from Guiyang. At first he followed his father, who held office, on travels through the Chu region and studied under Song Shinan. Shinan was one of the founders of Hán Sān—the Wuchang venue devoted to Patriarch Lü, where spirit writing (fújī) often brought down revelations for expounding the scriptures. In spare moments from teaching he mentioned that the hall had once produced the Three Ranks of the Qingwei and the Essentials of the Chan School. Qingxu heard this and yearned to go. One day he accompanied his teacher to pay respects to Patriarch Lü; the patriarch saw that he carried affinities from past lives and therefore bestowed a religious name upon him. Before long he returned to Guizhou. In the guichou year of the Yongzheng reign (1733), he met Liu Wwo of Yiling, Deng Dongyan of Quyang, and Tu Jingcheng of Huanchuan in Bozhou (the present-day Zunyi region). At that time Li Kexiu of the central provinces was already advanced in years yet skilled in outward affairs; he too had come to Guizhou. When the group heard the name Hán Sān, all were delighted. They asked Qingxu to lead the way and, with Li Licheng and Deng Xincheng, went in the first month of the jiayin year (1734) to visit Patriarch Lü and state their wish to request the composition and performance of a classic. How extraordinary! When Qingxu had first followed his teacher to the hall, he had never imagined such an affinity would arise.

After they obtained permission to compile the classic and returned south, they still could not begin the performance. Those who had initiated the matter scattered one by one; only Liu Wwo’s resolve did not waver. He discussed with Deng Dongyan and again had Qingxu respectfully invite them to Hubei to finish what Guizhou had left undone. Qingxu set out gladly, braving cold and heat, traveling back and forth more than ten times. Then Li Benshu, Ding Cunshu, Liu Wucheng, and others joined in succession—not a single person only. In the spring of the jiwei year (1739), the accumulated scripture text was at last complete, and the performance opened straightaway. Liu Qinghui opened the first session; in the end it was truly Qingxu who saw the matter through to the end. That winter Deng Xincheng came from Yunnan to the Chu region—the Cāntóng Jīng had already been declared complete.

In the year Jiayin (a year in the traditional sexagenary cycle), at the first joint assembly, on the day the scripture was opened, auspicious cranes danced in the clouds; when the Keyi (liturgy) was performed to expound the classic, the cranes gathered again. This was summoned by sincerity—the response came so swiftly that it was only to be expected.

I have said that temples of Lü Dongbin (Patriarch Lü) in E City (present-day Wuchang in Wuhan) are not few, yet Han San alone—the Han San Palace and kind of Lü Patriarch establishment in Wuchang—has continued for decades without interruption. Because the founder opened the way with sincerity and descendants could faithfully inherit and transmit it, the gentlemen present came from thousands of li to join the assembly: can this not be called a flourishing at its height?

My learning is shallow and limited; I was fortunate to serve at the Daoist ritual assembly and to undertake the duty of performing the Keyi—a role I hardly deserve. I deeply rejoice that Qingxu from the outset has been sincere and untiring, that you all, my fellow initiates, have held firm in your vows and have worked together to bring the matter to completion.

Each person dwells in a different place and follows a different path; even those skilled in divination could not have foreseen it. This was truly accomplished without anyone deliberately arranging it—are not such meetings affinity fixed long beforehand? Now, in the spare moments while revising the complete book, I record the beginning and end of the Keyi performance and place it at the head of the scripture. The wording is plain and not meant as polished prose; it serves only to show that this gathering was no accident.

Respectfully prefaces Xingzi Huang Chengshu of Shaxian.

Preface to the Can Tong Miao Jing (Scripture of Mysterious Conjunction) of Zitong Dijun

Since the rise of the ancient classics, the name jing (scripture/classic) has shone in the world. The sage kings of old wrote the principles of daily human conduct and ordinary practice into instructive canons, to awaken the world and guide the people so that day by day they turned toward goodness and corrected themselves, reaching the highest good order. Later ages therefore honored these as the great books that govern the age. It was not only Buddhism and Daoism that coined the name jing to display marvels and startle the world.

Yet Buddhist volumes and precious Daoist compilations alike are also means by which buddhas and immortals awaken hearts and assist the king’s teaching. Worldly Confucian scholars, failing to see clearly, suppose them opposed to the way of the sages and often lead the foolish to drift with the crowd and lightly mock and criticize.

Immortal Emperor Fu-you (Lü Dongbin, as honored in Daoism) composed this classic by weaving together the three teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, drawing lessons from the Five Classics—the Book of Poetry, Book of Documents, Book of Rites, Book of Changes, and Spring and Autumn Annals—and gathering the subtle words of Confucius, Zengzi, the Doctrine of the Mean, and Mencius, along with arguments from many schools. He cited scriptures and precedents, searched widely, cleared up difficulties, explained principles clearly, and arranged everything in a connected, unified way. Its purpose is plain yet profound; its language is thorough and complete. It brings out secrets the ancient sages had not yet spoken and clarifies fine points that Buddhist and immortal traditions had not fully explained. It truly serves as a standard for cultivation and verification, and as an important book for instructing the world. Its power to awaken hearts and support royal teaching can hardly be called small.

Those who read this classic must read its words and grasp its intent, recite it morning and evening, and day by day put it into practice in their own lives. They must not treat it wholesale as a Buddhist sutra or immortal scripture and assume it contradicts the books of the sages.

Even in a hamlet of ten households there are loyal and trustworthy people; in a world so vast, will there be no one who can understand? If anyone in the world has deep roots of goodness and sharp intelligence, can follow this classic in earnest, and spread it widely so that every household in every village knows it and everyone has a chance to turn toward goodness, then even without seeking blessing, blessing will come of itself. Much of what supports royal teaching and assists the sages depends on this classic—not merely on one immortal scripture. If one only treats it as a numinous text narrated by the Supreme Lord or as the Immortal Emperor’s revealed teaching, wraps it in layer after layer and stores it away without opening it for a whole year, or if one can only chant and recite it without earnestly applying it to ethics and daily conduct, how would that match the Immortal Emperor’s compassionate wish to awaken the world? Later readers of this classic should also reflect on what I have said here.

Compiled by Liu Tishu of Yiling, styled Wuwuzi; jointly collated by his son Liu Yincheng (Qinghui) and his nephew Liu Yuncheng (Qingxu); and revised with the participation of Huang Chengshu of Shaxian, styled Yixingzi. Readers who come after should likewise take to heart the words above.

This work was compiled and arranged by Liu Tishu of Yiling, styled Wuwu-zi; his son Liu Yincheng (religious name Qinghui) and his nephew Liu Yuncheng (religious name Qingxu) jointly revised it, with Huang Chengshu of Shaxian, styled Yixing-zi, taking part in the final review.

Praise Verse for the Can Tong Jing · Praise for Volume One

This praise verse says that the scripture unfolds the subtle and explains the deep, disclosing the true mystery of the Dao (the authentic essence of the profound); it gathers the Three Teachings into one, interpreting them in words, with the meaning of De (Virtue/Power) fully contained therein. It also urges people to purify karmic conduct, clear away guilt and fault, and widely plant good affinities.

Opening Scripture Mystical Praise Verse

The Great Dao is deep and empty, not to be fixed by names and forms; in the dim, indistinct void, true essence and Qi (vital energy) nonetheless abide. This one primordial wondrous principle is one with the Three Teachings. When primordial chaos first opened, the myriad things began to divide. That deep, solemn truth is to be realized directly in mind-nature; when the root of karmic obstruction is purified, the sprout of goodness appears. Practice accordingly and penetrate the whole scripture’s truth, the dharma-body unmoved in thusness, and one may rise beyond the supreme vehicle. This scripture cites the classics and aligns with “can tong” (participating unity), to guide the multitude to awaken to the root teaching. Know that body and marks are all empty; the ten thousand dharmas are held in the single “one.” True awakening needs no elaborate commentary; turning the scripture’s secret essentials is the real work. Henceforth the doubly mysterious is pointed out, so beings in every age may receive the wind of the Dao.

Volume One of the Taishang Jiangyan Jiujie Xiaozai Cifu Jie’e Baoyun Zhenzhen Can Tong Miaojing (Supreme Lord’s Descended Teaching for Saving from Calamity, Dispelling Disaster, Bestowing Blessings, Resolving Hardship, Protecting Fortune, and Certifying Truth—Wondrous Scripture of Unity in Participation) opens with “Chapter One: Origins of the Dharma Assembly,” which tells how that assembly came to be.

After attaining the Dao, Xuanyuan Guangfa Tianzun (the honorific title of Lü Dongbin after his enlightenment) made a great vow before Zhengyang Shengshi (Zhongli Quan) to deliver all sentient beings in Jambudvipa (the human world). He traveled through the mundane realm and composed two essays entitled Zhi Xuan, explaining the principles of refining “mercury and lead” in neidan (internal alchemy, in which lead and mercury stand for essence [Jing] and spirit [Shen], among other pairings). The verses were so abstruse that ordinary literati could not grasp the logic of “inverting Yin-Yang” or the practice of seeking cultivation from Heaven and Earth. The Tianzun therefore hid these arcane texts in a stone chamber on Mount Qingcheng, to await someone who could truly understand them.

Later, in Piling (the region of present-day Changzhou, Jiangsu), he expounded the Eight-Grade Immortal Scripture, which was far clearer than Zhi Xuan. Even so, such themes as “raising and lowering water and fire,” the aim of the “infant and ruddy girl,” and talk of the “dragon-tiger furnace and cauldron” were largely metaphorical. People failed to look closely and strayed into heterodox paths; now and then one or two clever readers clung too tightly to the letter and missed the meaning beyond words, unable to follow the text’s drift and grasp its root intent. Out of compassion for sentient beings, the Tianzun often used flying-phoenix spirit writing (feiluan) to teach in the region corresponding to the Wing and Chariot asterisms (Yizhen), widely forming karmic ties. In succession he proclaimed scriptures such as the Five-Grade and Three-Grade texts, pointing to the subtle Mahayana aim that does not depart from the innate awakening and luminous nature of one’s own mind, so that those who cultivate truth might practice according to the scriptures. This was a skillful means of compassion, fulfilling his original vow.

Yet the scriptures did not circulate widely, and few upheld them. While attending at the seat of Yuanshi Tianzun, he heard the supreme and wondrous Dao of the Great Mystery; he happened to see in the territory of the Well and Ghost asterisms (Jing-Gui) various baleful vapors knotted together, dark and un-dispersed. He therefore looked down upon the kalpa’s fortune and sighed deeply. Just as he was about to report to Yuanshi and preach to save beings, a dharma heir among his disciples came to invite him to descend by feiluan at Luodian (an ancient place name in the southwest). The Tianzun’s heart to deliver others was urgent; moved to pity, he pleaded with Yuanshi Shizun and the Jade Emperor (Yuhuang Shangdi), earnestly asking that teaching be spread widely even in wild lands of miasma and pestilence. On examining this karmic thread, it still belonged to the old designation Ezhu (the Wuhan area).

The Celestial Worthy then bowed before the Primordial Celestial Worthy (the supreme deity in Daoism who symbolizes the primordial source of the cosmos) and reported: “Your subject once requested permission to proclaim the great Dao in Luoshi (an ancient border region in the southwest plagued by miasma), to deliver all beings in the final kalpa (the calamities when the world’s allotted span nears its end), and to spread the great teaching widely in that land of barbarian mists and pestilential vapors. Upon careful examination of karmic conditions, this matter should still take place at Ezhu (the ancient name for the Wuhan Wuchang area). Your subject has now calculated where the cycles of heaven and affinities converge: precisely in the territorial domain corresponding to the asterisms Wings and Chariot (in antiquity, asterisms were paired with regions; Wings and Chariot correspond to the land of Chu). Your subject therefore requests instead to go to Chu and expound the mysterious merit. I humbly ask you to extend compassion and pity for living beings, and grant this request.”

The Primordial Celestial Worthy said: “What you now report—is it not a good thing? I shall enable the lives of beings to be renewed and their allotted blessings and lifespan to be extended, to assist this fundamental teaching. You must explain clearly; do not repeat stale formulas. You must enable ordinary men and women to understand self-cultivation and self-examination, to take refuge in the correct path, to escape birth and death, and to leave behind the realms of suffering (hell, hungry ghosts, animals, and other places of torment). This will be your merit.”

The Celestial Worthy kowtowed in gratitude and departed from the Jade Capital and Golden Palaces (the highest halls of the celestial realm), riding five-colored auspicious clouds, with white cranes leading the way and azure dragons guarding the chariot, celestial flowers falling in profusion and auspicious clouds dense above. Together with the immortals and gods of heaven he came before the Jade Emperor (sovereign of the celestial realm) to request the imperial decree. The Jade Emperor, pitying his compassionate vow, graciously permitted the teaching to be opened. He then descended with the perfected ones and sages to the Hansan Dao field at Ezhu (a venue for spreading the Dao established at Ezhu), and for the gods and immortals of heaven and the disciples assembled there expounded the thirty-two chapters of the Supreme Scripture of Wondrous Salvation from Calamity.

The Celestial Venerable (the supreme speaker in the scripture) addressed the four assemblies (the various kinds of listeners present): What I teach now is only the true root; I do not touch branches and leaves. If those who cultivate the Way do not know the root and only chase branches and leaves, however diligently they practice, it is like a tree without roots—what use is that? This root comes from the Primordial Unified Qi (Hunyuan yi qi)—the innate primordial vitality before heaven and earth were divided: then heaven and earth were not yet split, sun and moon not yet bright; everything was in primordial chaos and great emptiness, with no form or name, no sound or scent. Heaven received it and only then became heaven; the four seasons run, cold and heat alternate, the sun rises by it, the moon endures by it; clouds, mist, rain, dew, wind, thunder, lightning, and hail are all this Qi turning without end, day and night unceasing. Earth received it and only then became earth; mountains stand by it, waters flow by it; it bears mountains without feeling their weight, holds the great seas without spilling over. If not for this one Qi, who would be in charge? Humans live because they receive the Qi of heaven and earth; therefore they take heaven’s Qi as yang and earth’s Qi as yin, and yang governs strength and firmness. Mountains stand by it, waters flow by it; it bears mountains without feeling their weight, holds the great seas without spilling over. If not for this one Qi, who would be in charge?

Human beings receive Qi from Heaven and Earth (the pre-heaven primordial vitality spoken of in Daoism) and thereby come into life; what they receive from Heaven becomes Yang, and what they receive from Earth becomes Yin. Yang is firm and strong; Yin is soft and yielding. The two kinds of Qi alternate in their movement, like a ring with neither beginning nor end. What Confucians call “the nature endowed by Heaven,” what Buddhists investigate as “one’s original face,” and what Daoists explore as “what existed before one’s parents begot one” all refer to this same Qi—and the principle is contained within it.

The Most High (Laozi) said: “It existed before the Lord.” He also said: “There was something undifferentiated, complete, born before Heaven and Earth.” From antiquity, Buddhas, immortals, and sages who cultivated body and mind and established life refined precisely this; in writing books and leaving teachings for later generations, they elucidated precisely this.

People in recent times do not know how to return to the root. They neglect personal practice and seek only outwardly—reading through the classics and exhausting secret manuals—while letting their own bit of primordial yang true Qi (the innate pre-heaven yang in the human body) lie buried until they die still uncomprehending. That is deeply lamentable.

I now point out the essentials of true cultivation for you who gather here on schedule: you must clearly recognize this pre-heaven primordial Qi—it is called the “body of mysterious truth” (the subtle, authentic root-nature). Yet this Qi cannot be understood by sitting in dull stillness alone. You should carefully observe and recognize it in walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, and in every word and every movement. When it moves, you cannot see where it comes from; when it rests, you cannot see where it stops. Vague and dim, deep and dark—its beginning cannot be traced. Pursue it to the source in this way until you understand it thoroughly. Then the original point of yang light will suddenly appear; naturally you can become entirely clear, and your nature will shine bright as the sky. Habits accumulated since countless ages will melt like ice in an instant; no calamity or disaster, however great, can harm you. Your lifespan will match Heaven’s, you will keep company with sages, leave the wheel of rebirth behind, and wander in freedom.

This Qi, from the Limitless (Wuji) becomes the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), and gives birth to Heaven, Earth, humankind, and the ten thousand things. In the human body it is stored within the Huangting (the inner landscape in the middle dantian region in Daoism) and pervades the hundred vessels of the whole body. Call it great—it can embrace the cosmos; call it small—it is no larger than a grain of millet. Yet though the millet grain is small, it still has form; this Qi in its subtlety has neither shape nor trace. Though the cosmos is vast, it still has bounds; this Qi in its expansiveness fills everything without gap. How subtle and how deep! At the utmost, it is also complete at the utmost!

I already set forth this aim in my Zhixuan Pian, yet people are like digging in the earth to find Heaven—few can recognize it.

I now tell the immortals and the true: first-rank practice must begin here. If you do not penetrate this aim, even cultivation through many kalpas counts only as contrived effort (youwei); contrived effort still leaks (you lou—it remains incomplete and not ultimate) and is far from the Dao. Only non-action (wuwei) can be without leakage; then naturally you share virtue with Heaven and Earth and brightness with sun and moon. Anyone on the path who wishes to awaken to the Great Dao and realize true constancy—if they do not understand this pre-heaven primordial Qi, how can they succeed?

The Heavenly Venerable said: Those who study the Dao and wish to understand heart and nature must first know where heart and nature come from. When people and the ten thousand things are first born, Heaven endows them with their nature and Earth supports them with their form; therefore Heaven and Earth are called the great father and great mother. From ancient times, Buddhas, immortals, sages, and worthies have all placed reverence for Heaven and Earth foremost. Though people differ in wealth and poverty, nobility and baseness, male and female, worthiness and unworthiness, everyone alike stands beneath the blue sky and treads upon the great earth. Later custom and vulgar practice do not know where original nature comes from, that fate is ordained by Heaven…