《周易参同契发挥》Vol. 1

The Fahu i Commentary on the Zhouyi Cantongqi consists of three volumes, with one additional volume titled “Clarifications of Doubts.” Its author was Yu Yan of the Song dynasty. Yu also wrote the Collected Explanations of the Zhouyi, which has already been catalogued.

The work explains the Dao of the Elixir—the Daoist path of internal alchemy—through the interaction of water and fire, and Yin and Yang within the human body. Its discussion is less specialized and in-depth than the commentaries by Peng Xiao, Chen Xianwei, and Chen Zhixu, but it draws on a wide range of sources. The three essays titled “Clarifications of Doubts” examine the similarities and differences among competing interpretations, and are more detailed and clear than the edition compiled by Zhu Xi.

The Catalogue of the Daoist Canon, compiled by Bai Yunji in the Ming dynasty, lists the two works as totaling fourteen volumes; Jiao Hong’s Gazetteer of the Classics and Books of the National History records twelve. Mao Jin combined Yu Yan’s commentary with those of Peng Xiao and the other two commentators, producing an edition that was no longer the original and omitting “Clarifications of Doubts.” The edition used here has illustrations in every volume. It was in fact printed by Zhang Yufeng, heir to the Celestial Master title, in the third year of the Zhida era of the Yuan dynasty. It consists of three volumes, with one additional volume of “Clarifications of Doubts.”

According to the preface to Yu Yan’s Separate Transmission of the Changes Beyond the Yi, the subtle teachings in the oral instructions on the Dao of the Elixir are all recorded in the three essays of the Fahu i Commentary on the Zhouyi Cantongqi. Bai Yunji may have counted other books as well. Jiao Hong’s account, meanwhile, appears to derive from successive copying and inherited errors. Neither can serve as a reliable basis.

Respectfully collated in the sixth month of the forty-fifth year of the Qianlong reign. The chief editors were Ji Yun, Lu Xixiong, and Sun Shiyi; the chief proofreader was Lu Feichi.

The ancient sages began composing the Classic of Changes with Pao Xi (Fuxi). Tradition says he grasped the principles of Heaven and Earth from the River Chart and drew the Eight Trigrams (Bagua). Later, King Wen doubled the trigrams to form the sixty-four hexagrams and wrote the judgments for them. The Duke of Zhou worked out the auspicious and inauspicious meanings of the six lines and composed the line statements. Confucius, drawing on the images of the hexagrams and lines, wrote the Ten Wings. Traced back to its source, all of this arose from the transformations of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate): when Taiji moves, Yang is born; when it is still, Yin is born. As the two forces of Yin and Yang separate, the Four Images take shape. Movement and stillness are each the root of the other, and from them the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) emerge. The interweaving of odd and even in Yin and Yang forms the Eight Trigrams.

The Yellow Emperor ordered Da Rao to devise the system of cyclical years using the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches. The ten Heavenly Stems and twelve Earthly Branches are both ways of exploring the transformations of the Five Phases, and their principles do not extend beyond those contained in the directions of the Eight Trigrams. Doubling the Eight Trigrams produces the sixty-four hexagrams; dividing them into Yin and Yang lines gives a total of three hundred and eighty-four lines. Thus, the Classic of Changes encompasses the ways of Heaven, Earth, and humanity. With the ways of the Three Powers complete, all things between Heaven and Earth have their principles, Qi, images, and numbers. Their fullness and decline, growth and waning, advance and retreat, existence and extinction all fall within the scope of what sages can grasp and understand; they can discern the causes behind them. The Classic of Changes is therefore broad and comprehensive, and can be used to instruct and transform people. The methods of calculation and divination founded on the Five Phases and the Eight Trigrams are also sufficient to help people understand things and manage affairs, offering guidance for their actions.

The Classic of Changes is a book for the deliberations of the noble person; no one should remain ignorant of it. People of the world do not understand the ceaseless workings of Heaven and Earth, investigate neither the ways the Five Phases generate, overcome, restrain, and transform one another, nor follow the patterns of coming and going, advance and retreat shown by the hexagrams and lines. They simply act blindly. They also fail to reflect on themselves and do not know what cultivation is. Few, then, can preserve their bodies and live out their years in peace, let alone attain long life in the world between Heaven and Earth. Those who cultivate themselves into immortals and attain longevity do so through the Way of the Reverted Elixir. Yet the immortals of antiquity often transmitted its secrets privately, from mind to mind and by word of mouth, and did not disclose them lightly. As a result, few people in the world have written them down.

Some people do not follow the Great Way but act on their own ideas, imagining that unorthodox paths and improper methods can bring quicker success. They may even take potent medicines or ingest warming medicinal substances, treating them as divine elixirs. In the end, they injure their bodies and shorten their lives. How could they possibly attain longevity?

Wei Boyang of the Eastern Han believed that the Way of the Reverted Elixir must not be misled by false teachings and must take the principles of the Classic of Changes as its foundation. The Classic of Changes contains the workings of Yin and Yang, movement and stillness, as well as the mysteries of transformation in the hexagrams and lines. Through them, all things come into being without end and change without limit. Looking back at oneself, one can also regard the self as a small cosmos; the primordial Qi received within oneself also comes from the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Since Heaven and Earth can endure, can human beings not follow their example? The Cantong qi was written for this reason. “Can” means that it is to be read alongside the Classic of Changes, with no contradiction between them. “Tong” means that its principles accord with those of the Classic of Changes. “Qi” means that it resonates with the Classic of Changes in secret; once understood, its truth can be confirmed within the mind.

I once heard that the ancient immortals had methods for refining elixirs, and that once an elixir was complete, it enabled them to live forever and ascend to the heavens. For this reason, traces of furnaces and stoves were said to remain in famous mountains and places of scenic beauty throughout the land. Later, I came to understand that the strange rocks in the mountains that resemble furnaces and stoves may only happen to look that way. After reading this book, I learned that the claim that elixirs are refined by heating them in a furnace is unreliable. The immortals’ practices of guiding and cultivating the body apply their methods inwardly and do not depend on external things; the means of cultivation are also found within oneself, not obtained from outside. Gold, for example, must be refined with lead, mercury, and fire to make it pure, unmixed, and free of false substances. The Elixir, too, must undergo refinement before it can achieve a pure and solid nature, enduring as long as Heaven and Earth.

The Cantong qi uses the principles of refining gold to explain cultivation: one’s own Qian and Kun serve as the vessel, while Kan and Li (the sun and moon, Yin and Yang) serve as the ingredients. By gathering the spirit and assembling Qi, one brings the Dragon and Tiger into union, applies the methods according to the sequence of advancing the fire, and waits for transformation to occur. In this way, the Elixir Way may be brought to completion.

However, Zhu Xi of Ziyang collated and annotated this book, and many questions remained. Though he clarified its general outline, he did not fully uncover its essential points and secrets. Those who came after Zhu Xi naturally found it no easier to understand. In the Yuan dynasty, Master Quan Yang, Yu Yuwu, began to study the Cantong qi with dedication. At first he could find no way in and thought it very difficult. But as he worked at it over a long period, his conviction grew stronger. Later, it seemed as though the spirits had guided him, and at last he came to understand it on his own. He gathered widely the secrets of realized masters and compared them with the Cantong qi, discovering that they all accorded with the principles of the Classic of Changes. He therefore elaborated on the book and added another layer of commentary, making the principles of the Elixir Way clear.

The Way of the Reverted Elixir may sound extremely simple, as though one need only bend down to accomplish it. Yet the book also speaks of cultivation lasting three years and passing through nine revolutions. This shows that what seems easy is in fact no simple matter: it requires long and steady perseverance. Those who wish to study the Way and seek immortality must not rush to succeed or stop after a superficial taste. They must continue to seek the way in, examine the crucial points, and apply such methods of cultivation as using the bellows, advancing the fire, and guarding the Dragon and Tiger, while waiting for Yin and Yang to unite. Then the Yellow Sprout, a sign that the Neidan Elixir is beginning to form, will grow naturally, and the Jade Flower, a symbol of the Neidan Elixir’s essence, will appear of itself. Only then may the Way of the Reverted Elixir be realized.

Upon reaching this state, one can ascend and endure forever, riding clouds across the vast sky in all eight directions and meeting fierce astral winds above the nine heavens. Cut off from the world of dust, one dwells in the divine realm and rises to the rank of an immortal. One can also descend into the human world over the course of a hundred generations to save living beings, while others remain unable to trace one’s whereabouts. Looking down on the mortal world, one sees people as fleeting as mayflies that live from dawn to dusk, or tiny flying insects that dart up and down. All of this lasts but an instant and is scarcely worth more than a laugh.

Qian and Kun are the gateways of the Yi Jing (Classic of Changes) and the foundation of all the hexagrams. When a gate closes, this is called Kun; when it opens, this is called Qian. Opening and closing together bring about change. Change moves back and forth without ceasing, and this is free passage. This is why Qian and Kun are called the gateways of the Yi Jing. Qian generates three sons, and Kun generates three daughters; through the union of male and female, the myriad things come into being. This is why Qian and Kun are called the parents of all the hexagrams. The human body takes Heaven and Earth as its model and undergoes the same changes of Yin-Yang as the cosmos. Only by understanding this can one speak of returning the elixir, a term in Daoist internal alchemy.

Kan and Li, which in the Yi Jing represent water and fire and often stand for the moon and sun, encircle the four quarters like a wheel rim, while the turning hub is kept true by its axle. Kan is the moon; Li is the sun. The sun and moon travel along the ecliptic, repeating the cycle of day and night without cease, like a wheel turning around its rim. Here, the hub is compared to the body and the axle to the heart. For a wheel to turn, its axle must be straight. Those who cultivate the returning elixir must set the sun and moon within the body in motion so that they accord with the workings of Heaven and Earth. How could they do this if the heart were not upright?

The four male and female hexagrams compare the workings of Yin and Yang to the bellows’ handles: as the bellows move, Yin and Yang circulate in response, like a driver holding the reins and guiding horses and carriage according to established rules. Their advance and retreat follow measure, their movement stays on course, and they remain centered while controlling what lies outside. This pattern is expressed in the calendrical system: the divisions of the month are used to calculate the cycle, and the sixty hexagrams are arranged lengthwise and crosswise to correspond with the movements of the sun and moon, bringing Yin and Yang, hardness and softness, into accord, with inner and outer responding to each other. At dawn on the first day of the lunar month, the Zhun hexagram takes its turn; by evening, Meng follows. One hexagram governs each day and night, rotating in sequence. When the Jiji and Weiji hexagrams take their turns at the dim light before dawn, as day is about to break, one cycle ends and immediately begins anew.

The Qian hexagram is wholly Yang, the “male hexagram,” while the Kun hexagram is wholly Yin, the “female hexagram.” Kan contains Yang within Yin, and Li contains Yin within Yang; both are images of Yin and Yang joining. The alchemical method places Qian and Kun above and below, and Kan and Li in the east and west. The opening and closing of Qian and Kun, and the coming and going of Kan and Li, resemble the form and operation of a bellows (tuoyue). For this reason, these four hexagrams are called the “bellows.” A bellows is a hollow implement: tuo refers to its bag, and yue to its tube. The Daode Jing says, “Isn’t the space between Heaven and Earth like a bellows? It is hollow, yet never exhausted; the more it moves, the more Qi flows out.” The vast Great Void is like the bellows in form, while the opening and closing and coming and going of Qi are like its function. Understand this, and you have grasped more than half the Way of refining the Return Elixir.

Yet this principle must be maintained at all times; relax your hold even slightly, and it will be lost. One must therefore guard the mind carefully and also be on one’s watch against external disturbances. The Liezi, also known as the True Classic of the Clarity of Emptiness and Perfect Virtue, tells the story of Taidou driving a chariot, which offers a useful comparison. As Taidou drove, the reins and the horse’s bit worked together in harmony: his mouth controlled the pressure and pace, his mind held the direction, and his hands governed the rhythm. His intentions communicated with the horse’s, and his outward actions accorded with its nature. Thus, advances and retreats followed a straight course, and turns conformed to the proper measures. The alchemical method works in the same way.

“Numbers are found in the rhythms, calendar, and cycle” means that the twelve positions correspond respectively to the twelve tones of the twelve pitch-pipes, the twelve months of the calendar, and the twelve years of the year cycle. “Each monthly period has five or six” means that a month of thirty days is divided into six periods, each lasting five days. “Qian and Kun establish the fixed positions of south and north” means that Qian and Kun determine the north-south orientation; “Kan and Li exert their subtle function along the east-west axis” means that Kan and Li operate in the east and west. The “envoy who serves the sun” refers to arranging the sequence of time according to the sun’s course: the rhythms of Qi correspond to the movements of the celestial bodies and change with the sun’s rising and setting.

“Combined, they make sixty” means that the Book of Changes contains sixty-four hexagrams; remove Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li, and exactly sixty remain. A day has twelve double-hours, with one hexagram assigned to every two. Each hexagram has six lines, so two hexagrams have twelve lines, corresponding exactly to the twelve double-hours and matching the numbers of the pitch-pipes, calendar, and cycle. A month of thirty days thus adds up to sixty hexagrams. To arrange these sixty hexagrams across a month, use the Zhun hexagram on the morning of the new moon, the first day of the month, and the Meng hexagram that evening. The twelve double-hours of day and night then correspond exactly to the twelve lines of the two hexagrams. Continue in sequence: Xu in the morning and Song in the evening, Shi in the morning and Bi in the evening, and so on, until the end of the month, when Ji Ji and Wei Ji are used; then begin the cycle again on the new moon. In making these arrangements, the firm and yielding lines within a hexagram may sometimes be opposite or contrasting; there is no need to cling rigidly to them.

Zhang Ziyang’s Wuzhen Pian says, “Grasp the intent here; do not cling to the hexagrams. Examining each line in turn will only waste your effort.” This does not mean that the sixty hexagrams are not arranged according to the thirty days of a month. Some people fail to understand the principle and become fixated on the hexagrams, rigidly treating the twelve double-hours of each day as the standard for regulating the firing times, then calculating the Qi of the times from the line positions. By day they anxiously watch the sun’s shadow to measure the time; by night they look up to check the water clock. This is a serious mistake.

The sun and moon trace their courses across the sky, dividing time into twelve two-hour periods. These twelve periods can be matched to the stages of alchemical practice; this is called “taking the days and hours as measures.” Here, “day” refers to the regulation of the alchemical fire, while “hour” refers to the right moment. When practitioners look to the seasons and rhythms of Heaven to understand themselves, the sun’s position in its course also corresponds to the hour within them.

The Wuzhen pian says that one must understand dusk and dawn when refining the elixir. This means that the fire’s activation and settling each have their proper time. “Movement” is like activity beginning after sunrise; “stillness” is like rest after sunset. The human body has its own rhythms, like sunrise and sunset and the alternation of morning and evening. The movement and stillness of the fire should accord with the timing of Heaven. Attuning to the movements of celestial bodies and the rhythms of the tides reveals when to begin practice.

In spring and summer, practice follows the inner pattern of movement, extending from the Zi hour (midnight) through the Chen and Si hours (morning). In autumn and winter, it gives greater weight to external application, extending from the Wu hour (noon) through the Xu and Hai hours (from evening into night). These periods also correspond to the six-day arrangement in the hexagram images.

Spring and summer correspond to the “inner body,” with the process running from the hour of Zi to the hours of Chen and Si. Autumn and winter correspond to “outer application,” with the process running from the hour of Wu to the hours of Xu and Hai. Each hexagram has six lines: the lower three are called “inner,” and the upper three “outer.” Take the hexagrams Zhun and Meng as examples. In the morning, using Zhun symbolizes the rising of Yang Fire. At this time, Zhun’s first nine line corresponds to the Zi position within the human body, and Qi moves from the inside outward. Thus spring and summer are said to concern the inner body, from Zi to Chen and Si. In the evening, using Meng symbolizes the descent of the Yin Talisman. At this time, Meng’s top nine line corresponds to the Wu position within the human body, and Qi moves from the outside inward. Thus autumn and winter are said to concern outer application, from Wu to Xu and Hai.

Yet spring, summer, autumn, and winter; Zi, Wu, Si, and Hai; and the inner body and outer application are all metaphors. If one clings to the hexagram images and their literal wording, mechanically following the movement of Qi through the hexagrams, one will take Qian and Kun to be a cauldron and furnace, then burn and refine the Crow and Rabbit—the terms symbolizing the sun and moon—as ingredients. Are Qian and Kun, and the Crow and Rabbit, the heaven, earth, sun, and moon outside the body? Practitioners should understand them within themselves.

Heaven is above and earth below. The two Qi of Yin and Yang move between them, rising and falling in an unceasing cycle, like the bellows of a forge. Humans receive the balanced Qi between heaven and earth at birth, and are originally no different from them. If one can understand how heaven and earth move like bellows, and make the mind empty, still, and clear, Qi will naturally flow up and down: when it opens, Qi moves outward; when it closes, Qi moves inward. The outward movement of Qi is like the earth’s Qi rising; its inward movement is like the heaven’s Qi descending. In this way, one can endure as long as heaven and earth.

The Zihuazi says: “In ancient times, those who understood the Great Dao built barriers to ward off pernicious influences and guarded their source to nourish true Qi. They dwelt in stillness, undisturbed by external things, and regulated the in and out of their breath so that it harmonized with Shen and Qi. They gathered in their spirit and kept careful watch over themselves, allowing their mind and spirit to wander outward neither, but keeping them focused and undispersed; thus true Qi could be preserved. Qi flowed through them from top to bottom, circulating without pause, like flowing water and the movement of the sun and moon. Yin Qi nourished the inner organs, while Yang Qi secured the outer organs. The source and course of Qi remained abundant without spilling outward, full without becoming congested. This is called long life. To abandon these foundations yet claim to possess some other quick method for ascending to the clouds and becoming an immortal is merely an unorthodox, distorted teaching, not the Way of the Great Elixir that I speak of.”

Heaven and Earth symbolize Qian and Kun. What is called “establishing positions” means arranging the positions in which Yin and Yang correspond. The Kan and Li described in the Book of Changes are two ways in which Qian and Kun function. Kan and Li have no fixed line positions; they circulate among the six positions, so their places above and below are not fixed either.

Qian is Heaven and Kun is Earth, symbolizing the cauldron vessel within the human body—the inner place where Jing and Qi are refined and cultivated. Li is the sun and Kan is the moon, symbolizing the substances within the body used in cultivation—the Jing and Qi employed in Neidan practice. In the Earlier Heaven Bagua, Qian is in the south and Kun in the north, showing the positions where Heaven and Earth correspond; Li is in the east and Kan in the west, showing the gates through which the sun and moon rise and set. Turn this principle inward and it remains the same: Qian and Kun are the root, while Kan and Li are their functions. Kan and Li circulate and rise and descend through the six directions, moving above and below without fixed line positions. The Kan and Li within the body likewise move within the cauldron vessel, hidden inside the body; their movement, too, has no fixed location.

“Hidden deep and concealed, they transform within” means that Shen enters Qi, and Qi then enters the navel, sinking down to the sea floor—a Neidan term for the area around the lower Dantian. The transformation takes place within the cauldron vessel: when the time is right, Qi changes of its own accord. When stillness reaches its utmost, the inner mechanism stirs; Yang Qi then appears, like the rising sun. Chen Xiyi’s “Pian on Pointing to the Mystery” says: “It is so far-reaching that no trace can be found; it returns to Black Tortoise, which symbolizes the north and Kan Water. Yet unseen, its mechanism is at work, condensing into the sacred embryo, the fetal breath or Elixir-body formed through Neidan cultivation.” This describes just such a process.

The “Wuzhen pian” says: “The Dao gives rise to one Qi from nothingness. This one Qi then gives rise to Yin and Yang; Yin and Yang unite to produce three, and the three multiply in turn, bringing forth the flourishing of the myriad things.” The foundation of Golden Elixir cultivation is simply primordial Qi. It divides into two, then into three, and then disperses into the myriad things; all come from this one Qi. Thus it is said to contain the myriad things and to be the guiding principle of the Dao.

“Use emptiness to govern what is present: a vessel can serve its purpose precisely because of the empty space within it.”

The Dao De Jing says: “Thirty spokes come together at the hub of a wheel. It is precisely because the hub is empty that the wheel is useful. Clay is shaped into a vessel. It is precisely because the vessel is hollow that it can hold things. Doors and windows are cut to make a house. It is precisely because the inside is open and unobstructed that the house is useful. Thus, tangible things provide convenience, while the intangible spaces within them serve their purpose.”

Lin Yanzhai’s commentary says: The hub is the part that holds the axle, and the spokes are the supporting ribs of the wheel. The center of the hub is hollow, allowing the wheel to turn and the cart to move. A potter shapes clay into a vessel; its hollow interior is what makes it a vessel. Doors and windows are the places in a house that let in air and light. These three examples all show that emptiness can serve a purpose. Hence the saying, “It is the intangible spaces that are useful.”

Although carts, vessels, and houses are all solid things that provide people with convenience, each can function as a cart, vessel, or house only because of the empty space inside it. Wei Boyang now holds that using “nonbeing” to govern “being,” thereby enabling things to serve their purpose, is precisely what Laozi meant. The methods of the Elixir (Neidan cultivation) take the Great Void—the vast, empty state—as their crucible. Yet within the Great Void, subtle workings arise naturally. How wondrous!

Guan Yin says: “Wave a sleeve through empty space, and you obtain wind; blow toward something, and you obtain water.” Chen Baoyi’s commentary says: If you understand that waving through empty space can produce wind, you can work your own bellows—an image for regulating the breath and circulating Qi—to generate Qi. If you understand that blowing can produce water, you can nurture the Qi within yourself until it transforms into Jing. If you do not understand these principles and instead seek supposed crucibles elsewhere, you will not accord with the Way of emptiness and nonbeing.

Therefore, one must investigate waxing and waning, while Kan and Li—the Book of Changes hexagrams often used in Neidan to represent Yin and Yang—remain hidden from view.

“Waxing” refers to the timing for advancing the fire: after three transformations, the Kun hexagram becomes the Qian hexagram. “Waning” refers to the timing for withdrawing the tally: after three transformations, the Qian hexagram becomes the Kun hexagram. After dawn on the new moon, the Zhen hexagram takes charge, proceeding in sequence through Dui until Qian. After the full moon, the Xun hexagram takes charge, proceeding in sequence through Gen until Kun. Throughout this process, the lines of the Kan and Li hexagrams are nowhere to be seen, hence the saying, “Kan and Li remain hidden from view.” Yet Kan and Li have not truly vanished. They move among the Six Empties—the empty positions occupied by the six lines—coming and going and transforming, with no fixed place.

The scripture says: “The words I speak are not invented at will, and the principles I discuss do not arise from nowhere. I cite signs that can be verified and effects demonstrated in practice, examine the wondrous patterns of the sun and moon’s movements, and investigate the principles underlying the words and images of the Yijing trigrams as proof. The Kan trigram corresponds to Wu Earth and the moon’s vital essence; the Li trigram corresponds to Ji Earth and the sun’s radiance. The character Yi is formed by combining the characters for sun and moon, symbolizing the mutual complementarity of hardness and softness. Earth is active in all four seasons and runs through the whole year. Blue, red, white, and black each occupy a direction, yet all receive the activity of central Wu-Ji Earth.”

The Kan trigram is yin on the outside and yang within, and symbolizes the moon; the Li trigram is yang on the outside and yin within, and symbolizes the sun. Kan is paired with Wu, which belongs to yang Earth; Li is paired with Ji, which belongs to yin Earth. When Wu Earth and Ji Earth meet, yin and yang can harmonize with one another, and hardness and softness can be brought into balance. This is like combining the characters for “sun” and “moon” to form the character Yi.

Blue, red, white, and black represent Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water, respectively. Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water each occupy a direction; only Earth occupies the center, while also extending in the four directions during the Earth-dominant periods of Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei in the four seasons, thus running through the whole year. Wood therefore flourishes through Earth, Fire subsides through Earth, Metal is produced through Earth, and Water is checked through Earth: all four receive Earth’s influence.

Earth is spread throughout Heaven and Earth and has no fixed position. In the Kan trigram it is Wu Earth; in the Li trigram, Ji Earth; at the center, Wu-Ji Earth; and in the four seasons, the Earth of Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei. Though these names differ, their essence is all Earth. The Wuzhen pian says, “The four images and five phases all depend on Earth,” and also, “Because each holds true Earth within, the Golden Elixir can return.” This means that only when the true Qi of Earth harmonizes yin and yang can hardness and softness unite and the Golden Elixir be refined. Without it, yin and yang would be blocked from one another, and hardness and softness would separate.

Wei Boyang, the author of the Zhouyi cantong qi, wrote this book to illuminate the mysteries of the Daoist method. Everything he says is grounded in practical experience and principles borne out by verification. He also feared that later generations might find these claims hard to believe, so he examined the patterns of the sun and moon’s movements and used the principles of the Yijing trigrams to confirm them. His explanations are thorough and clear: they are certainly not baseless words invented at will, nor were they meant to deceive later seekers of the Dao.

“Yi” means taking images as models. Among the bright and manifest images in Heaven and Earth, none are greater than the sun and moon. By observing wondrous transformations, we can understand how things change: yang Qi recedes and yin Qi arrives, revolving back and forth like a wheel. The sun and moon rise and set, and yin and yang accordingly alternate, expanding and contracting.

“Yi” refers to the symbol of Yin-Yang change, as in the phrase above, “the sun and moon make Yi.” Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), uses images of the sun and moon to describe the changes of Yin and Yang within the human body. Yin and Yang in the body have no visible form and cannot be observed directly. Though people are affected by them every day, they are often unaware of it. Without comparing these changes to concrete things, how could one explain them clearly and help people grasp their subtle workings?

Wei Boyang therefore observed things in the world and found that the movements of the sun and moon were plain to see. He used them to explain Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth, enabling people to appreciate the subtleties of natural change and to understand the movements within the body that usually escape notice. The sun and moon travel back and forth along the ecliptic—the apparent path of the sun across the celestial sphere. They emerge and disappear, rise and set in alternation, and cycle through day and night like a turning wheel, without pause. By reflecting inward and drawing an analogy from this, people can understand that the body, too, has its own movements of Yin and Yang, akin to those of the sun, moon, Heaven, and Earth.

Han Xiaoyao’s Secret Instructions for Penetrating the Mystery Within says: “The Dharma Wheel, a turning motion used in cultivation to describe the movement of the Qi mechanism, must keep revolving. It exists only within the human body, invisible to outsiders. When the Qi mechanism stirs, it is as though the solar wheel were moving within the body.” It also says: “The Dharma Wheel’s rotation must not cease. As thoughts continue without interruption, the wheel naturally keeps turning. Why seek outside the body?”

The Zhouyi has three hundred and eighty-four lines. Symbols are selected according to the individual lines; here, “symbols” refers to the symbols in the sixty-four hexagrams.

The Zhouyi contains 384 lines; a pound of Great Medicine, once refined, is also reckoned as 384 zhu. Here, the number of lines in the Zhouyi is used to show that the Dao of the Elixir and the principles of the Changes are interconnected. This is also why the Cantong qi was written. A line is a horizontal stroke within a hexagram; a symbol is the whole formed by combining the images of the hexagrams. The Zhouyi has sixty-four hexagrams. In elixir practice, Qian and Kun serve as the vessel—the fundamental means of refining the elixir—Kan and Li represent the ingredients, and the remaining sixty hexagrams correspond to the firing times, or the timing and stages of the cultivation process. Observe the changes of the Qian and Kun hexagrams: the sequence begins with Zhun and ends with Jiji and Weiji, while their reversed and opposite forms correspond to one another. This shows that the union of Yin and Yang is the Dao. The ancient immortals selected hexagram images based on the trigrams and lines, using them as metaphors for the vessel, the ingredients, and the firing times. Their conception was intricate and comprehensive.

“From the dark of the moon to the dawn of the new moon, Zhen comes forth to receive the tally” refers to the period from the end of the lunar month to the first day. The Zhen hexagram is formed when Qian joins with Kun, symbolizing the first stirring of Yang Qi in the body. At this time, Shen and Qi mingle and unite, like Heaven and Earth joining their essences and the sun and moon working in harmony. Hence the text says, “At this time, Heaven and Earth bring forth their essence, and the sun and moon clasp one another.” Heaven and Earth here refer to one’s own Qian and Kun; the sun and moon refer to one’s own Kan and Li. Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon must unite at the proper time to nurture the myriad things and complete the work of the year. By analogy, when Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li unite at the proper time, they seize the opportunity of creation and form the sacred embryo.

Wei Boyang feared that students might fail to understand the principles of Yin-Yang change within themselves, so he used the meeting of the sun and moon as a metaphor. He did not mean that cultivation is possible only from the end of the lunar month through the first day. The Wuzhen pian says, “The sun and moon meet once every thirty days; by exchanging an hour for a day, one may accomplish the wondrous work.” This means that by grasping the right moment, one can let an hour in cultivation stand in for days in the natural world and thereby carry out a wondrous method. Once one understands the principle of “exchanging an hour for a day,” one can comprehend the workings of Heaven and Earth and refine the Great Elixir.

The masculine Yang spreads the power of mysterious transformation, while the feminine Yin governs and brings to completion the transformation of the Yellow Path.

When Yang Qi spreads and disperses the generative Qi of the mysterious (the Qi produced through the action of Yang Qi), the Qi of Heaven descends to Earth. Yin Qi governs and nurtures Yellow Qi (the Qi of Earth); the Earth receives the Qi of Heaven, and all things grow from this. The Wuzhen pian says, “For sweet dew to descend, Heaven and Earth must unite; for Yellow Sprouts to emerge, Kan and Li must interact.” This shows that the formation of the ingredients in alchemical practice resembles Heaven and Earth bringing forth the myriad things: Yin and Yang Qi each play their part, one issuing forth and the other nurturing, as Mysterious Qi and Yellow Qi join together.

Yin and Yang Qi meet above and below and blend into one; this is why the state is called “Chaos.” Chaos is the outer form of Heaven and Earth, and the womb in which the myriad things are conceived. Alchemical practice begins with this union and establishes its foundation through it. In this way, Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things can all be experienced within oneself, without seeking outside.

By working attentively at the root and gathering the spirit, one can form the Elixir body. “Yin’e” refers to the root. In cultivation, one applies effort here and turns the light inward in contemplation. The spirit then rests on true Qi and becomes settled, while true Qi rests on the spirit; naturally, the two unite and form an embryo. If the light of the spirit dissipates outward and true Qi also rushes outward, they will be like the sun and moon straying from their courses, or like lead and mercury kept in separate furnaces. In that state, refining the Elixir is difficult. Bai Ziqing’s Song of the Elixir Marrow on Jade and Pearl Leaves says, “Long ago I met a master who personally taught me the secret formula: simply gather the spirit and enter the Qi cavity.” This is why the Elixir is called the Spirit Elixir, and those who refine it are called immortals.

The union of Yin and Yang is the source of life’s growth and transformation. It gives rise not only to humans and beasts, but also to tiny creatures that fly or crawl, walk on feet or breathe through beaks; none can escape this principle. Thus, all living beings follow this Way into life. Applied to human reproduction, it gives birth to humans; guarded within oneself and cultivated, it gives birth to the Elixir. The difference lies only in whether ordinary people or sages follow the forward or the reverse course.

Thus Confucius praised this state of undivided Chaos…

Confucius praised Hongmeng—the undivided state in which Heaven and Earth had not yet separated and primordial Qi was still in chaos—saying that the virtue of Heaven and Earth was profound and far-reaching. Looking back to ancient writings, he also extolled the Primordial Sovereign, the ancient sage who brought all things into being. The Book of Songs opens with “Guanju”; the Book of Rites gives special importance to the capping and wedding rites; and the Spring and Autumn Annals begins with the “first year.” This shows that when sages composed the classics, they deliberately established a beginning. If alchemical practice does not investigate its beginning, how can it fully understand Yin-Yang and deeply comprehend the transformations of creation?

Sages did not appear from nowhere. They looked upward at the celestial patterns and discovered laws in the heavens that could serve as models. “Fu” means to correspond or match. The moon travels through the heavens and meets the sun once each month, so this is called the Heavenly Correspondence. Its movement advances and recedes, bends and extends, mirroring the changing seasons. After the first day of the month, the moonlight gradually grows. This may be compared to the growth of the hun and the diminishing of the po, the unfolding of Yang Qi and the contracting of Yin Qi, corresponding to the day’s passage from the Zi hour to the Si hour. After the sixteenth day, the moonlight gradually wanes. This may be compared to the growth of the po and the diminishing of the hun, the unfolding of Yin Qi and the contracting of Yang Qi, corresponding to the day’s passage from the Wu hour to the Hai hour. Hun and po are traditional Daoist terms for aspects of the human spirit and life.

In ancient times, those who attained the Dao observed the Way of Heaven and followed its patterns of movement. They therefore drew on the advance and retreat of the Heavenly Correspondence, and the bending and extending of Yin and Yang, to establish the rules and symbols of the alchemical firing process and offer guidance to later generations. Heaven and Earth are like a cauldron and furnace, while the sun and moon are like the ingredients used in alchemy. Their movement between Heaven and Earth, their coming and going, their rising and setting, are symbols of the firing process. By turning inward and observing themselves in this light, people can silently grasp the subtle workings of the process as it advances and recedes.

Thus, the Book of Changes encompasses the heart of Heaven and takes the Returning hexagram, which symbolizes the first revival of Yang Qi, as its beginning.

The “Changes” in the Classic of Changes refers to the transformations of Yin and Yang. “Heaven’s Heart” is the crucial point in these transformations where Yang energy begins to emerge. In terms of direction and season, it corresponds to the northern Zi position and the winter solstice. The Returning hexagram is the hexagram for the eleventh month, whose central solar term is the winter solstice, at the northern Zi position.

In Shao Kangjie’s (Shao Yong’s) Collected Poems from Striking the Earth, a poem titled “A Song on the Winter Solstice” says: “At the midpoint of Zi on the winter solstice, Heaven’s Heart does not shift.” Zhu Huian (Zhu Xi) considered this Shao Kangjie’s finest line. The Beginning of Winter falls early in the tenth month, Minor Snow in its middle, Major Snow early in the eleventh month, the winter solstice in its middle, Minor Cold early in the twelfth month, and Major Cold in its middle. Thus “the midpoint of Zi on the winter solstice” refers to the middle of the eleventh month. People often take the Zi hour at midnight as the winter solstice, but the poem’s “midpoint of Zi” refers to the first half of the Zi hour.

Most people who calculate the Five Phases today do not understand this point. The beginning of numerical patterns always starts here and never shifts by the slightest amount, which is why it is called “Heaven’s Heart.” Wei Boyang, author of the Token for Joining the Three According to the Zhouyi, says in his book that the Returning hexagram governs Heaven’s Heart and marks the beginning of all things. During the pure Yin of Mengdong, the first month of winter, Yang energy quietly emerges beneath the Kun hexagram. Only after it gathers enough to form a single Yang line does the hexagram become Returning.

People know that the tenth month corresponds to the Kun hexagram and that, in the eleventh month, a Yang line appears beneath five Yin lines, forming the Returning hexagram. But they do not realize that this Yang line does not suddenly come into being at the winter solstice in the eleventh month. In fact, at Minor Snow in the tenth month, Yang energy has already begun to stir in the lowest line of Kun. It grows only imperceptibly over the course of a day or a month, and accumulates until the winter solstice in the eleventh month, when it is sufficient to form a complete line. Still, this is only an analogy drawn from the hexagrams: the year’s Returning is at the winter solstice, the month’s at its beginning, and the day’s at the Zi hour. These cycles serve to illustrate the patterns of Yin-Yang transformation within the human body; there is no need to cling to specific years, months, days, or hours.

The Cui Xu Treatise says: “The thirty days of a month and a single day follow the same pattern; the methods of cultivating the Elixir emulate and seize Heaven’s work.” This means that the cycles of a month and a day follow the same pattern. In Neidan cultivation, following this pattern allows one to compress a year into a month, a month into a day, and a day into a double-hour. Within each double-hour, too, there naturally comes a moment when Yang energy is reborn. This moment is not confined to the winter solstice, the beginning of the month, or the Zi hour. Without a profound understanding of the transformations of Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth, it is difficult to grasp this subtle and hidden mechanism.

The Father Qian (the Qian trigram) descends and joins with the first line of the Mother Kun (the Kun trigram), forming the Zhen trigram. Zhen symbolizes the eldest son, so it is said that “the eldest son inherits the father’s form.” Zhen emerges from Kun’s body, just as an infant is born from its mother’s womb. Hence the phrase “the mother establishes the first signs”: the foundation begins to sprout within the mother’s body.

The Wuzhen Pian says, “The Golden Lord is originally the son of the eastern household; he is sent to the western neighbor to be born and inherit the form.” This expresses the same principle. Once this is understood, one knows that there is no need to seek the winter solstice outside oneself in alchemical practice. Within the human body, the first Yang naturally comes to birth; there is no need to be bound by accounts based on year, month, day, and hour.

The waxing and waning of Yin and Yang correspond to the pitch pipes, while their ascent and descent follow the movement of the Northern Dipper’s pivot. From the hour of Zi to the hour of Si is called “resting,” when Yang energy grows; from the hour of Wu to the hour of Hai is called “waning,” when Yang energy recedes. Over the twelve months of the year, the pitch pipes change one pipe each month and then begin the cycle again. The waxing and waning of the alchemical fire in the body is compared to this process. Movement from below upward is called “ascent,” and movement from above downward is called “descent.” Over the twelve double-hours of the day, the Northern Dipper shifts one position each hour and passes through all twelve earthly branches. The ascent and descent of the alchemical fire in the body are compared to this movement as well. The Zhixuan Pian says, “In the vastness, the pitch pipes shift through the nine depths; in the dark, the Dipper’s handle turns across the long sky.” These descriptions take natural phenomena as symbolic metaphors. They do not mean that the actual lengths of the pitch pipes or the direction in which the Northern Dipper points should be used to determine the timing and measure of alchemical practice.

On the third day of the month, the crescent moon first appears. At dusk it lies in the west, in the Geng position, and its shape resembles the Zhen trigram, which corresponds to Geng. This serves as a metaphor for the beginning of alchemical practice within the body—the moment described as “the River Chariot dares not pause even for an instant.” The River Chariot is a metaphor in Neidan cultivation for circulating Jing and Qi.

By the eighth day, the moon is at its first quarter. At dusk it lies in the south, in the Ding position, and its shape resembles the Dui trigram, which corresponds to Ding. This serves as a metaphor for the Yang fire rising halfway within the body.

On the eighth day, the Moon is at its first quarter, with a straight, cordlike face. At dusk it appears in the south, at the Ding position. Its image corresponds to the Dui trigram, which is associated with Ding in the najia system. Here, the changing phases of the Moon serve as a metaphor for the Yang fire within the body rising halfway.

On the fifteenth day, the image of the Qian trigram reaches completion, and the Moon corresponds to the Jia position in the east. The Moon stands opposite the Sun and appears in the east at the Jia position at dusk. It is full, corresponding to the Qian trigram, which is associated with Jia in the najia system. This serves as a metaphor for the Yang fire within the body growing strong and reaching completion.

The toad is the Moon’s inner essence, while the rabbit’s soul is the Sun’s light. The radiance of the Sun and Moon does not appear at the same time: the Sun illuminates the day and the Moon the night. When the Sun rises, the Moon disappears; when the Moon rises, the Sun disappears. They take turns illuminating the world through the alternation of day and night, appearing and vanishing, waxing and waning. Human breathing is similar. The Huangting Jing says, “The Sun goes out, the Moon comes in; through breathing, they are preserved.” In other words, breathing is like the movement of the Sun and Moon.

The toad’s changes follow the trigrams and the seasons, while the rabbit exhales light. In the methods of the Elixir, the first half of the month belongs to Yang and corresponds to the Zhen, Dui, and Qian trigrams; the second half belongs to Yin and corresponds to the Xun, Gen, and Kun trigrams. The Moon belongs to Great Yin, and the Sun to Great Yang. Yang governs exhalation, while Yin governs inhalation. The Moon has no light of its own; it appears bright because it receives the Sun’s light. That is why the rabbit is said to exhale light.

“Seven and eight” added together make fifteen. The Yang fire rises from the Zhen trigram and, by the fifteenth day, becomes pure Qian, reaching the full Moon. By then, the Yang Qi of the first half of the month is complete and its momentum has reached its peak; this is also the point at which it must turn and descend. The Yuzhi Shu says, “Within the ninefold city, the dragon carriage sets forth; before the twelve-storied tower, the tiger carriage turns back.” This, too, refers to the Yang fire turning downward after rising to its height on the fifteenth day.

On the sixteenth day, the Moon turns to receive a new command and appears in the west, at the Xin position, in the morning. Its light begins to wane. At this point the Moon begins to give birth to its po—the part of the lunar face that gradually darkens and recedes. The corresponding trigram is Xun, which is associated with Xin in the najia system. In terms of the fire cycle within the body, this is when Yin Qi takes over from Yang Qi and the direction of circulation changes.

The Gen trigram corresponds to the Bing position in the south and represents the waning half-moon, around the twenty-third day. On the twenty-third day, the Moon reaches its last quarter. At dawn, it appears in the southern Bing position, with half its light already gone, and its shape resembles the Gen trigram. Here, the correspondence of the Gen trigram with Bing describes the state in which the Yin Talisman Qi within the body has descended halfway.

The Kun trigram corresponds to the Yi position in the east and represents the end of the month, the thirtieth day, when the Moon’s light has vanished. The thirtieth day is the dark of the Moon. At dawn, the Moon appears in the eastern Yi position, but its light can no longer be seen. Its shape resembles the Kun trigram. Here, the correspondence of the Kun trigram with Yi describes the point at which the movement of the Yin Talisman Qi within the body has reached its end.

The six phases of the month come to an end. Yin and Yang alternate, and fresh Yang energy begins to arise again, like a dragon appearing once more.

Wei Boyang divided a thirty-day month into six phases: the first through the fifth day correspond to the Zhen trigram; the sixth through the tenth to Dui; the eleventh through the fifteenth to Qian; the sixteenth through the twentieth to Xun; the twenty-first through the twenty-fifth to Gen; and the twenty-sixth through the thirtieth to Kun. When the six phases are complete, after the conjunction of the Sun and Moon marks the start of the new moon, Yang energy once again follows Yin energy and transforms into the Zhen trigram. Zhen symbolizes one Yang line stirring beneath two Yin lines, which is why it is called the “dragon.” Is a living creature stirring beneath the depths not precisely what a dragon is?

Ren and Gui are paired with Jia and Yi; Qian and Kun run through the whole cycle.

The Qian trigram corresponds to Jia and Ren, while Kun corresponds to Yi and Gui. Hence the phrase “Ren and Gui are paired with Jia and Yi.” The Ten Heavenly Stems begin with Jia and Yi and end with Ren and Gui, so Qian and Kun are said to run through the whole cycle. Here, “Na Jia” (assigning the Heavenly Stems to the Eight Trigrams) serves as an analogy for regulating the phases of the alchemical firing process. The increase and decrease of the fire’s intensity resemble the Moon’s change from waning to waxing, and then from waxing to waning.

When the six trigrams are arranged across a month, Zhen symbolizes the Moon’s appearance on the third day; Dui, the first quarter; Qian, the full Moon on the fifteenth; Xun, the beginning of the Moon’s waning on the sixteenth; Gen, the last quarter; and Kun, the Moon’s disappearance on the thirtieth. This uses the Moon’s waxing and waning only to explain the advance and retreat of the firing process represented by the six trigrams within the human body. It does not mean that cultivation must literally follow a thirty-day schedule.

The relative lengths of day and night vary over the year, and the direction and timing of moonrise and moonset also change. In winter, when daylight is short, the new Moon may occur at the Shen hour and the full Moon at the Yin hour; in summer, when daylight is long, the new Moon may occur at the Xu hour and the full Moon at the Chen hour. Thus, the Moon on the third day does not necessarily always appear in the Geng direction, nor does the Moon on the fifteenth day necessarily always appear in the Jia direction. The new Moon may occur earlier or later, and the first quarter, last quarter, and full Moon do not necessarily fall exactly on fixed days. When Wei Boyang says that the Moon’s appearance on the third day corresponds to Zhen and its waning on the sixteenth day to Xun, he is drawing an analogy from the Moon’s appearance around the spring and autumn equinoxes, when day and night are equal. He does not mean that one should advance the fire or retreat the talisman according to the direction in which the Moon appears.

Practitioners need only observe the Moon’s waxing and waning, and from this understand the growth and decline of Yin and Yang within themselves. The first Yang arises in the body, like the Zhen image of the Moon appearing on the third day; two Yang lines gradually grow, like the Dui image of the first quarter on the eighth day; three Yang lines become full, like the Qian image of the full Moon on the fifteenth; the first Yin arises, like the Xun image of the Moon beginning to wane on the sixteenth; two Yin lines gradually grow, like the Gen image of the last quarter on the twenty-third; and three Yin lines become complete, like the Kun image of the Moon’s end on the thirtieth. One must not cling to the directions of moonrise and moonset, or mechanically calculate according to the number of trigram lines and the varying lengths of day and night in the calendar.

Seven and eight together make fifteen, and nine and six together also make exactly fifteen. The four numbers add up to thirty. In the symbolic numerology of the Yi, this is the number of days in a lunar month. When the count of thirty is complete, the Sun and Moon are as though joined as a pair of jades, and the images of the Yi likewise fade from view and lie concealed. The Chapter on Returning to the Origin says: “One return in a month makes one cycle; nine cycles and nine returns make a year. All depend on the two hexagrams to determine the phases of punishment and Virtue; five and six return to the center of Wu and Ji.” Here, “five and six” also means thirty: the product of five multiplied by six.

This symbolizes midwinter, when plants and trees have withered and suffered harm. At such a time, one should follow the season’s closing and storing of Yang Qi, remaining deeply concealed and out of sight like a ruler. The Yi’s phrase “close the mouth and do not use it” refers to the vast, profound course of Heaven: the Great Mystery has no form or image, and its emptiness and stillness are difficult to perceive. Its bounds and traces, too, disappear from view. Confused speech or the disclosure of what is essential can damage one’s work and ultimately bring harm to oneself.

In alchemical practice, “remaining deeply concealed,” “following the season,” and “closing the mouth and not using it” all use the winter solstice, or the turn between the end and beginning of a lunar month, as a metaphor for the moment when Yin Qi reaches its extreme and Yang Qi begins to emerge. Within a month, this is like the moonlight disappearing on the last night of the month, hidden from sight; within a year, it is like plants and trees withering away in midwinter. The meaning is the same. The Yi says, “Thunder within the earth: Return.” For this reason, the former kings closed the passes at the winter solstice, halted the passage of merchants and travelers, and did not tour the four quarters of the realm. They did so to nourish the newly arising Yang Qi in stillness and follow the Way of Heaven.

The Way of Heaven is vast and profound, and its subtle transformations often occur in an instant. The Great Mystery has no form, and its wonders are hidden in the deepest obscurity. Therefore, at crucial moments such as the winter solstice, one should first gather the spirit and keep silent, allowing “gold and mercury”—the gold and mercury of alchemical practice, symbols of important substances or Yin-Yang elements in cultivation—to return together to the furnace. Just as, when the Sun and Moon are joined as a pair of jades, outward traces vanish and sink into emptiness and stillness, allowing the spirit and Qi to coalesce so that the Golden Liquid can form. If one forgets to maintain stillness and silence and lets the breath surge out through the “twin towers,” a Daoist term for the region of the throat, one will bring harm upon oneself.

These four numerological images are explained separately to guide later students of the Dao.

The “Four Images” are the four numbers seven, eight, nine, and six. They are the same numbers referred to earlier in statements such as seven plus eight making fifteen, and nine corresponding to six. Added together, seven, eight, nine, and six make thirty, corresponding to the thirty days of a month. These numbers are all symbols and metaphors. Wei Boyang was concerned that students might misunderstand their meaning and pass on errors, mistaking the waxing and waning of the thirty-day month for the actual timing used in alchemical practice. He therefore explained the Four Images of seven, eight, nine, and six separately, to help those who had not yet understood that the thirty-day count is a metaphor. It does not mean that one should practice by advancing the fire on the third day of the month and withdrawing the talisman on the sixteenth.

The references to zi, wu, mao, and you; zi, shen, yin, and xu; spring, summer, autumn, and winter; the equinoxes and solstices; opening and closing; day and night, dawn and dusk; and cycles of return and concealment all express the same idea. Once one understands that the correspondence between seven, eight, nine, and six and the thirty days of a month is symbolic, one can also understand the many other things cited and the winding metaphors, without becoming fixated on the wording or surface images.

The Eight Trigrams are arranged in their positions, while the sun, moon, and stars move without straying from the central path.

Here, “the center” refers to the ecliptic, the region of the sky through which the sun and moon travel. The Eight Trigrams are arranged in the eight directions, and the twenty-eight lunar mansions are set around the circumference of the heavens. The sun and moon travel back and forth as if along this path. The Wuzhen pian says, “Once the two things are guided back to the ecliptic, how could the elixir fail to form?” In alchemical practice, the only concern is that the mind and spirit might dart outward like a monkey. If one can draw in sight and hearing and still the mind and spirit for a moment, so that the “two things” return to the ecliptic without straying from the central path, Yin and Yang will merge and condense into a dewdrop that falls into the Dantian (energy center). “Two things” is a term in Neidan (internal alchemy) for two interacting elements. “Dantian” is a cultivation term for a place within the body believed to refine Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy).

Original Jing is subtle and difficult to see; its transformations can be investigated and confirmed through signs.

Original Jing, a Daoist cultivation term for subtle vital essence, arises in a deep and mysterious place and is too fine to be seen directly. The Dao De Jing says, “Vague and indistinct, within it there is essence.” Through interaction, original Jing condenses into a dewdrop that falls into the Dantian. Practitioners then observe the transformations and confirm them through the corresponding signs.

Original essence, the subtle vital energy spoken of in Neidan cultivation, arises in hidden and wondrous depths, beyond the reach of the naked eye. The Dao De Jing says, “How deep and obscure! Yet within it there is essence. This essence is utterly real; within it lies reliable evidence.” The practice of the Great Elixir, the perfected state sought in Neidan cultivation, accords with the transformations of Heaven and Earth. When the timing of Heaven aligns with the signs of cultivation, it is as though a jade bell rings and the two gates of a jade cavern open together: this is its confirmation. An ancient verse says, “Beneath the azure canopy, moon and sun rise together from either side and unite as one.” If one neither discerns the changes of Yin-Yang in Heaven and Earth nor deeply understands the patterns of transformation within oneself, how could one easily grasp this principle?

In quiet seclusion, observe the signs of Heaven and Earth in motion, and use them to infer their forms and changes.

When cultivating the Great Elixir, set up a gnomon outdoors and install a clepsydra to measure changes in celestial timing, the sun’s shadow, and the hours. At the same time, cultivate the True One within, the Daoist term for original vital energy or essence, in order to perceive the movement of Qi within oneself. This is how one avoids missing the moment when Heaven and Earth are in motion. Yet the inner and outer timings can align only when awareness is settled and the breath is calm. If the spirit is clouded and the breath agitated, inner sensations and external time will fall out of sync. The mind and spirit must therefore be brought to stillness.

Set up a sundial as a standard and observe the heavens to judge whether the timing is auspicious.

The firing times in Great Elixir cultivation are not simply determined by the hours of the day. Why, then, set up a gnomon and make observations? These observations are meant to prevent one from missing the moment when celestial timing and the movement of the body’s Qi arise together. But if one fails to sense subtle changes and simply watches the sundial and counts the clepsydra from morning to night, treating these as the basis for firing times, one will be even further in error.

Act in accord with the seasons, and do not miss the moment when the Yin-Yang line images begin to move.

“The Earth Thunder stirs, the Xun gate opens, and the dragon leaps toward the eastern pool” describes the first stirring of Yang Qi within oneself. At that moment, warmth spreads gently and one seems to feel a response within the heart. One should then promptly advance the fire—the Neidan term for guiding the movement of Qi in accordance with its proper timing—without delay. The Collection of Pearls and Jade, in “Returning to the Source,” says, “Amid ten thousand sounds and breaths, the wind has just begun to rise; among a thousand mountains, the moon has only just become full. Quickly carry out the command, and the circuit of Heaven can turn.” This is what it means. The “Finger-Pointing to the Mystery” says, “Support the child amid flashes of light; dispatch the general as the drum begins to sound.” This means the same thing.

The ancients looked upward to observe the heavens, downward to examine the earth, and inward to discern the human heart. They compared Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—the Three Powers—and studied them as an integrated whole. In the preface to Inscription on the Three Abidings, Shi Qizhen says: “Follow the sun and moon as they circle and return; turn with the river of stars in the heavens. The cycle has no end, and so life too has no end.” This means that the way of the Great Elixir—the method of cultivating and refining the internal elixir—corresponds to the Way of Heaven.

In A Song in Stillness, Shi Qizhen says: “Its wondrous workings flow ceaselessly like a river, nourishing the numinous fungus in the dark valley and watering the pool of jade.” This means that the way of the Great Elixir corresponds to the Way of Earth.

How can the way of the Great Elixir correspond to Heaven and Earth? The key lies in the silent workings of the heart. The ancient practitioners of elixir cultivation observed the heavens above, examined the earth below, and discerned the human heart within. They then brought the heart to emptiness and stillness and put the spirit to work, as though turning the celestial mechanism and setting the earth’s axis in motion: above, they aligned with the course of the river of stars; below, with the ebb and flow of the tides. Though Heaven and Earth are vast, and the workings of creation subtle, the celestial patterns revealed by the sun, moon, and stars, along with the arrangement of the Five Phases and Eight Trigrams, can all be gathered within oneself. At times they are regarded as one’s own crucible; at times, as one’s own medicines; and at times, as one’s own timing of the firing process. Looking back, one sees that Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—the Three Powers—are all present within oneself. There is no need to leave oneself and seek elsewhere.

The Collected Works of Jirang, in “Contemplating the Changes,” says: “Each of the myriad things forms its own body, and within each body there is a cosmos of its own. If you know that the myriad things are all contained within you, why place Heaven, Earth, and Humanity—the Three Powers—in separate places? Heaven divides its transformations from within the One; humanity unfolds its patterns and undertakings from the heart. How could Heaven and humanity follow two different principles? The Dao does not move in a void; everything lies within the human heart.” The meaning of these words is profound.

In action, follow the changes in the hexagrams; in stillness, follow the judgments of the hexagrams, the texts that explain their meanings.

The Dao De Jing says: “Bring the heart to utmost emptiness and firmly maintain stillness. As all things grow together, I observe how they return to their root. The myriad things flourish in profusion, yet each ultimately returns to its source.” The meaning of these words is profound.

In action, follow the changes in the hexagrams; in stillness, follow the judgments of the hexagrams.

The Dao De Jing says: “Empty the mind to the utmost, and hold fast to stillness with calm resolve. All things grow together; from this I observe their cycles of return. The myriad things flourish, each returning to its source. Returning to the source is stillness, and stillness is a return to one’s nature.” This describes how all things return to their origin.

The Golden Elixir great medicine within me takes shape in deep stillness and arises when Yin energy reaches its peak. The Yijing says: “Supreme is the origin of Kun: all things depend on it to grow, and it follows the way of Heaven. The earth of Kun is deep and bears all things; its De is vast and boundless.” Kun is the trigram of pure Yin. The earth can receive the energy of Heaven, so all kinds of plants and living beings grow from the soil. In alchemical practice, concealing the light and turning one’s gaze inward, with spirit hidden within the body, is much like the moon in its pure Yin phase and the way all things lie dormant in winter. The Fuming Pian says: “Having received the secret of the true immortals, one refines utmost Yang within Yin.” This is what it means.

Yet when stillness reaches its utmost, movement must follow. After a time, one Yang stirs beneath the six Yin lines. It first becomes the Fu hexagram, then Lin, Tai, Dazhuang, and Guai, until its sixth transformation makes it the pure Qian hexagram. At this point, Yang energy spreads in all six directions, like the sun appearing in a deep pool.

Qian and Kun alternate in their operation, and through them Heaven and Earth are brought to stability.

The workings of Qian and Kun are expressed through Kan and Li, the hexagrams that represent Water and Fire and the interaction of Yin and Yang. Kan and Li operate between Heaven and Earth, allowing Yin and Yang to unite and flow freely; harmonious Qi then brings good fortune. The workings of Heaven and Earth cannot do without Kan and Li for even a single day. Without them, creation and transformation would nearly come to a halt. The wondrous workings of the Great Elixir take their model from Qian and Kun. How could they differ from the Way of Qian and Kun?

How could one fail to be cautious? It is like a ruler beginning to govern.

When one Yang first stirs and alchemical practice begins, it is like a ruler newly taking charge of affairs. How could one issue commands and put decisions into effect without great care?

When gathering and drawing things in, be meticulous and thorough; when opening and unfolding, scatter forth treasures.

The key to cultivation lies in drawing the senses and spirit inward: do not look outward, but gather the gaze; do not listen outward, but quiet the hearing; regulate the breath, close the mouth, and draw in the Qi (vital energy). Sit upright with the legs crossed, focus inward, and do not let the mind wander outside. In Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), these practices are intended to gather the spirit and bring body and mind to rest.

When the eyes do not look, the Hun (ethereal soul) returns to the liver; when the ears do not listen, Jing (essence) returns to the kidneys; when the tongue makes no sound, Shen (spirit) returns to the heart; when the nose does not smell, the Po (corporeal soul) returns to the lungs; when the limbs do not move, intention returns to the spleen. In this way, the five activities of body and mind—Hun, Po, Shen, Jing, and intention—no longer dissipate outward through the eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and limbs. Instead, they merge with one another, become a single Qi, and gather in the Dantian (energy center), the place within the body where Qi converges in Neidan practice. When the breath changes and the mind and spirit become quiet and indistinct, the Dragon and Tiger (metaphors in Neidan for Yin-Yang Qi) break through the gates and openings. Qi then circulates along its pathways and enters the “jade nectar,” a Neidan term for the seminal fluid or sweet saliva produced within the body.

The Essential Way: The Big Dipper Governs and Unites the Framework

The essentials of Elixir cultivation all lie in the “Dipper.” Here, the Dipper refers to the Northern Dipper and the principles of its movement, which illustrate the pivot that governs the transformations of Yin and Yang throughout the body. Like the main cord of a net or the clasp of a garment, it directs the changes of the whole body. The upper, middle, and lower Dantians lie in different parts of the body. If one can grasp the mechanism of the Dipper’s handle and set the true Qi moving in an upward and downward circuit, it will flow like the River of Heaven. This is what is called the essential Way. The Fuming Pian says: “Drive the Northern Dipper back to turn the Celestial Handle; hold the Southern Star in your hand and enter the inner chamber.” This is an even more crucial cultivation formula.

The Trigram Lines Move Within; Good and Ill Fortune Arise Without

The Wuzhen Pian says: “At the beginning of receiving Qi, it is easy to attain; when adding and subtracting in practice, beware of danger.” The first emergence of a Yang Qi within the body is called “the beginning of receiving Qi,” and attaining it at this point is not difficult. But if one begins to put it into use then, changes of good fortune, ill fortune, regret, and distress will follow, so not the slightest error can be made at any step. Here, “trigram lines” refers to signs of Yin-Yang change: when Qi moves within, changes in good and ill fortune become apparent without.

The Five Planets’ Order and Disorder Respond to the Season and Stir the Senses; the Four Sevens’ Disarray Turns Them Aside, Above and Below

The refined essences of the Five Phases must gather together, and Metal and Fire must also be refined in the same furnace and vessel. Whether this can be achieved depends entirely on a single thought in the human heart: when the mind returns to its source, one can return to the root and restore the origin; otherwise, the processes within the furnace and vessel fall into disorder, and the workings of the person and of Heaven and Earth no longer correspond.

“Wenchang oversees the records; the Three Excellencies are held to account; the officials and functionaries each govern their own departments.” According to the “Treatise on the Celestial Offices” in the Records of the Grand Historian, six stars above the Dipper’s bowl of the Northern Dipper are called the Wenchang Palace. Here, “Wenchang oversees the records” uses a celestial office as a metaphor for the coordination and direction of internal alchemical practice. “The Three Excellencies are held to account” means that every stage must be supervised so that no errors occur. In the heavens there are star offices such as the Three Platforms and the Four Assistants; in alchemical cultivation, these are likened to the Three Dragons and Four Tigers. The many stars each have their own celestial regions, while alchemical work has its arrangements of trigrams and firing times. “The officials and functionaries each govern their own departments” means that the year’s twenty-four solar terms correspond to the twenty-eight lunar mansions, and that the furnace, vessel, and firing times must likewise be carefully arranged in sequence. Thus, the manifold phenomena of the heavens can all serve as metaphors for processes within the human body.

The sun contains the refined Qi of the Five Phases, and the moon receives the measure of the Six Pitch Pipes. “Five times six makes thirty degrees; when the cycle is complete, it begins anew”: the sun moves one degree each day, and after thirty degrees it joins with the moon, then the cycle repeats. In the language of alchemy, the sun represents Fire and the moon represents the medicine. “The sun contains the refined essence of the Five Phases” means that one thing encompasses the five colors; “the moon receives the measure of the Six Pitch Pipes” means that white metal—the alchemical medicine—is cooked through the six trigrams. The movements of the sun and moon are used here to explain the cycle and coordination of alchemical practice.

“Tracing things back to their beginnings and following them through to their ends; the thread of waxing and waning”: here, “beginning” is likened to the start of the lunar month, and “end” to its close. “The thread of waxing and waning” refers to the transition between the dark moon and the new moon, when Yin Qi is about to be exhausted but has not yet vanished, and Yang Qi is about to arise but has not yet appeared. The dark moon and new moon, however, are only metaphors; this does not mean that one must wait until the last day and first day of each month to cultivate.

If a ruler is arrogant, self-indulgent, and swollen with pride, he will turn against the right path. If his ministers are crooked and flattering, acting without regard for the rules, then at the dark end of the lunar month comes a turning point between survival and extinction. “Between the dark moon and the new moon” refers to a moment when Yin Qi is nearly spent but not yet gone, and Yang Qi is about to arise but has not yet done so. The dark moon and new moon here are metaphors, not literal references to the last and first days of each month.

If a ruler is arrogant, self-indulgent, and complacently exalted, he will turn against the right path; if his ministers are crooked and flattering, straying from the proper course, then the waxing and waning of the crescent and full moons will also fall into disorder, bringing danger and calamity. Ministers responsible for enforcing the law will censure and ridicule him, and hold him accountable for his errors, implicating the ruler in the consequences.

Here, “ruler” refers to a person’s Shen (spirit), and “minister” to a person’s Qi (vital energy). In alchemical practice, Mercury must be brought into the earthen vessel, while body and mind remain still and calm. When the body is unsettled, Qi disperses; when thoughts stir, Shen disperses. One must gather the spirit and collect the breath, allowing mind and respiration to follow one another. Only then can the spiritual embryo take shape. Otherwise, the waxing and waning within the body will fall out of order and bring danger. The cause is that the mind, as ruler, has indulged itself and turned against the right path; Qi, as minister, then becomes chaotic and runs out of course. Thus the ministers who enforce the law censure the ruler and hold him accountable for his errors.

The Northern Dipper occupies its proper position at the center, calm and at ease, while its subordinates each attend to their own duties.

The “Treatise on Returning to Destiny” says, “The Northern Dipper and Southern Star lie below the eyebrows.” This means that celestial bodies such as the Northern Dipper and Southern Star can serve as metaphors for the movements of Shen and Qi within the human body. If the mind, as ruler, indulges itself and abandons the Way, then Qi, as minister, becomes unruly and disordered. As stated above, those who enforce the law will censure the ruler and hold him accountable for his errors.

The Northern Dipper occupies its proper position at the center, calm and at ease, while its subordinates each attend to their own duties.

The “Treatise on Returning to Destiny” also says, “The Northern Dipper and Southern Star are near the eyebrows and eyelashes.” In cultivation, the mind should be as still as ashes, and the breath as steady as flowing water. Regulate Water and Fire, and gather and absorb the true Qi. The text also says that essence and Qi are the foundation, and the numinous spirit dwells with them. If one can subdue the “Five Thieves”—the forces that disturb body and mind—the “Three Flowers,” symbols of Jing, Qi, and Shen gathered through cultivation, will naturally form. When one holds the light within and rests in silent stillness, the key is to let the breath continue softly, almost imperceptible, following its natural course without exhausting the spirit.

When the Hall of Light is properly arranged and each part fulfills its role, the whole realm is free from calamity and its roads remain open.

The “Treatise on the Celestial Offices” in the Records of the Grand Historian says that the Heart Mansion, among the seven lodges of the Azure Dragon in the east, is called the Hall of Light. By analogy with the human body, the Hall of Light is the dwelling place of Shen and Qi, also known as the Grotto Chamber, Purple Pole, or Numinous Gateway. The Scripture of the Yellow Court says that Perfected Beings of Highest Clarity dwell before one, between the Hall of Light, Golden Treasury, and Purple Chamber. It also says that the Yellow-Robed Child and cinnabar Qi are always between the eyebrows. The radiance of Shen shines downward from here, just as a ruler sits in the Hall of Light to govern affairs and extend his teaching to distant lands in every direction. The “Treatise on Returning to Destiny” says, “The grotto gate is ever still and luminous; the Penglai isle remains forever in spring.” Its meaning is similar.

Cultivate yourself inwardly, settle body and mind, and enter a state of emptiness, stillness, and Wuwei (non-action).

Wang Chongyang’s Quanzhen ji says, “The wondrous function of the Mysterious Pass is not difficult to investigate; the key lies only in wordless stillness.” This means that when the mind is settled, empty, and quiet, the Dao naturally comes to dwell within it. The Treatise on Dwelling in Emptiness and Returning to Life says, “The cavern gate is ever still and luminous; the island of Penglai remains forever in spring.” Its meaning is the same.

Cultivate yourself inwardly, bringing the mind to stillness and emptiness

Wang Chongyang’s Quanzhen ji says, “The wondrous function of the Mysterious Pass is not difficult to investigate; the key lies only in wordless stillness.” This means that when the mind is settled, empty, and quiet, the Dao naturally comes to dwell within it. When one reaches a state of deep emptiness and stillness, the primordial Yang True Qi (the innate Yang energy said to exist within the human body) will recover of its own accord.

Begin with the source and learn to observe the body inwardly

The Quanzhen ji says, “To reach understanding, you must investigate the source; if you wish to see, you should turn your gaze inward.” This means that cultivation should return to the root and source, turning the light of awareness inward. Early Confucian scholars also said that the Daoist method of nurturing life is to gather in the gaze and turn it inward, as though the radiance of metal and water were hidden within the body. This is indeed a sound observation.

Close the mouth’s aperture and strengthen the numinous root

“Dui” refers to the mouth, and “numinous sprout” refers to the Kan Palace (a term in Daoist internal alchemy for an inner bodily region associated with Kidney Water and related processes). Closing the mouth’s aperture means preventing Jing and Qi from being depleted through the upper part of the body; strengthening the numinous root means preventing them from leaking away below. The Taixuan Jing says, “Hide the mind deep within the abyss, and the numinous root will grow beautiful.” This means that when spirit and awareness do not race outward, harmonious Qi can fill the whole body, and its inner vitality will also grow abundant.

Let the Three Lights sink inward and gently nourish the child-pearl

The “Three Lights” symbolize the wondrous numinous sights of the Cavern Chamber (a Daoist inner-landscape term for the spirit chamber within the body). If a person can gather the Three Lights and turn their radiance back into the body, a Mysterious Pearl (a subtle condensation formed in internal alchemy practice) will arise at the central, proper position. The Huangting Jing says, “The wondrous sights in the Cavern Chamber are like the Dipper and the sun and moon; the Three Lights shine brightly into the Child Chamber.” Those who understand its principle should reflect on it carefully.

Look for it, yet it cannot be seen; it is close at hand and easy to find

The great Golden Elixir medicine, the Neidan obtained through cultivation, is plainly right before our eyes. Can it really be called distant? Yet why can we see it but not truly perceive it, and why does it elude our grasp when we reach for it? Though it is within arm’s reach, it feels as if it were far beyond the horizon. If we know the right way to seek it, a moment’s effort is enough for golden radiance to appear all around us. How could it be distant?

The Wuzhen pian says: “It is easy to apply oneself; the medicine is not far away. Once the principle is laid bare, people cannot help laughing when they hear it.” The “laughter” is at the irony that something so near and easy to find is sought instead in places lofty and hard to reach. The Fuming pian says: “It is plainly right before us; only the people of the world cannot see it for themselves.”

Because they cannot see it, people abandon themselves and seek outside. Some gather the essence of the sun and moon; others refine metals, stones, plants, and herbs; still others practice bedroom arts. This is what is meant by: “The Dao is near, yet they seek it far away; the matter is easy, yet they insist on finding a difficult method.” It is truly lamentable.

“Gradually, the Yellow Center opens to understanding; its nourishing moisture reaches the skin”: When Neidan is present in the Dantian, the breath can circulate freely. The inner self gradually becomes balanced and unobstructed, Jing and Qi grow abundant, and their nourishing luster shines outward from within.

“When the beginning is correct, the end is complete; when the root is established, the branches can be sustained”: Only a proper beginning can bring a complete outcome; only when the foundation is established can the details be supported. A correct foundation is like an upright post casting a straight shadow; a deep source is like a stream that flows on without end. Once the foundation is grasped, all things have a point of return.

“One” is used to conceal this from the people of the world, leaving them unable to know it.

The root of the Great Dao lies in the “One Qi,” from which all kinds of transformations arise. Viewed in one way, it can be called black and white; distinguished further, it can be called blue-green and yellow. By metaphor, it is called the “sun and moon” or the “dragon and tiger.” Though the names are many, they all refer to Yin-Yang, which is originally a single thing. The “spirit water” and “flower pond,” as well as the “furnace” and “cauldron” spoken of in cultivation, likewise point to the same place.

Some say that the return of the yang occurs at the hour of Zi on the winter solstice, and that the sun and moon join between the end and beginning of the lunar month. Those who do not understand the principle consult almanacs, calculate the water clock, and reckon the hours; this leads far astray. How could they know that “compressing the years into months,” “compressing the months into days,” and even “compressing the days into hours” all mean gathering longer cycles into one place? Within a single double-hour, the transformations of a year and a month are already present. Yet a double-hour is itself one place, and one place is a single thing. Thus the winter and summer solstices, the spring and autumn equinoxes, Mao and You, Jia and Geng, the dark moon, new moon, first quarter, full moon, Zi and Wu, Ji and Hai, Zi and Shen, Yin and Xu, the twenty-four solar terms and seventy-two pentads, the conjunctions of the year and the course of the month, the times of Li and Kan, the months of the rabbit and the rooster, the apertures of Xun and Qian, the gates of two and eight, the morning of Zhun and evening of Meng, the daytime of Gou and nighttime of Fu—all are contained within this same One.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “Later people still go about seeking teachers and asking questions, exposing how many tricks of feigned miracles and pretense; yet not one of them knows the true place. They all follow side paths, not the proper Way.” How many people in the world can understand the principle of this “one place”?

The Dao De Jing says: “Superior De acts without action and without purpose; inferior De acts with purpose.” Here, superior De means Wuwei, without deliberate searching or scrutiny; inferior De means acting, with its function continuing without interruption. Superior De is the spirit abiding in the “Mysterious Palace”—the place where awareness resides in cultivation—quietly without action. Inferior De is Qi moving through the “Female Storehouse”—the place where the mechanism of Qi resides in cultivation—continuously without cease. By borrowing Laozi’s words, this reveals the mystery of the two places of Kan and Li, the trigrams that in the Classic of Changes represent water and fire, Yin and Yang.

When the upper part closes, it is called “having”; when the lower part closes, it is called “not having.” “Not having” serves to nourish “having above.” With the spirit of De abiding in the upper place, the principle of these two apertures is that having and not having depend on one another.

When the upper opening is closed, it is called “Being”; when the lower opening is closed, it is called “Nonbeing.” “Nonbeing” serves to receive the “Being” above, which has its own wondrous function. In the practice, these two openings, above and below, depend on one another through Being and Nonbeing.

“‘When the upper is closed, it is called Being’” means that the Li Palace—the place corresponding to the Li trigram—takes on a visible form, while true water is hidden within it. “‘When the lower is closed, it is called Nonbeing’” means that the Kan portal—the gateway corresponding to the Kan trigram—has no visible trace, while the Red Dragon, a Neidan term for Yang Qi in the process of refinement, is concealed there. To say that Nonbeing receives Being means that the original spirit, the person’s ruling spirit, rests in its own palace, and Qi then rises along with it. The essential point, therefore, is to seal the eight gates—the body’s openings through which its Qi moves—securely.

The Wuzhen pian says, “The eldest son suddenly drinks wine from the west; the young maiden first opens flowers in the north.” If, after the green moths meet—a sign here of Yin and Yang joining—the Yellow House, the upper field where the original spirit resides, is immediately sealed shut, the original spirit can settle within it. In practice, the two openings above and below must work together through Being and Nonbeing: if the lower is not sealed, the fire cannot gather; if the upper is not sealed, the ingredients cannot rise. So the two must work in concert. The Wuzhen pian expresses the same principle in the lines, “Send them back to the earthen cauldron and seal it fast; then let the flowing pearl enter and join with them.” The flowing pearl and the earthen cauldron are other names for the Kan and Li positions.

Know how to reveal the “white” yet hold fast to the “black,” and the wondrous function will arise of itself. White refers to Metal Essence; black refers to the foundation of Water.

White belongs to Metal, and black to Water. In Neidan practice, Water is the foundation, while Metal Essence is born from it. So one must understand Metal Essence yet hold fast to the foundation of Water. When that foundation is maintained, Metal Essence will appear of itself. How does one hold fast to it? Like a cat watching its hole for a mouse: the body does not move, the eyes do not blink, and the mind stays fixed on the mouse, with no other thought.

“Numinous intelligence” refers to the pivot of Heaven’s workings, the key to nature’s transformations. To grasp this pivot, first make the mind empty and still. When the mind is empty and still, the spirit gathers and settles; when the spirit settles, the breath becomes steady. Qi from the left and right then rises together and converges as one, and the wondrous mechanism appears of itself. The Li Sao: Far Roaming says, “Do not disturb the spirit, and the myriad things will move of themselves; concentrate the vital essence, and numinous intelligence will gather. In the deep night, preserve emptiness and stillness, and wait in this way; Wuwei is the forerunner of action.” This conveys the same idea. Zhu Xi of Ziyang comments that this is all there is to the teaching Guangchengzi gave the Yellow Emperor—a true key to the practice of the immortals.

Water is the pivot of the Great Dao. Its number is one, the beginning of Yin and Yang. It contains mystery within and nurtures the Yellow Sprout, a Neidan term for the newly arising Qi of the Elixir; it is the sovereign of the Five Metals, the alchemical symbols of Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth. It corresponds to the northern River Chariot, a Neidan term for the mechanism that transports Jing and Qi. Though black on the outside, within it conceals the golden flower.

Water is the pivot of the Dao, numbered one and the beginning of Yin-Yang. Mysteriously concealed within water is the Yellow Sprout, which governs the Five Metals. It lies in the north and is called the “River Cart.” Water appears dark on the outside, yet contains golden brilliance within, like a precious jade hidden beneath coarse cloth, or a wild-looking person who seems unrestrained.

Water is the pivot of the Dao and the beginning of Yin-Yang. Why is this so? Heaven’s one gives birth to water, which stands first among the Five Phases. When water, numbered one, combines with earth, numbered five, it forms water’s completed number. This symbolizes how the Yellow Sprout is mysteriously concealed within water. “Mysteriously containing the Yellow Sprout” means that lead is born within water. Lead governs the Five Metals. It lies in the dark north, where, through the presence of earth, the Yellow Sprout is produced. The Yellow Sprout is golden brilliance, the essence of lead. Thus lead is black in appearance, while golden brilliance is hidden within it, like treasure concealed in coarse clothing.

The “River Cart” of the north is the Imperial Cart. It is called the River Cart because it turns along with the celestial river. True lead is born in water and emerges through the tempering of true fire. At this point, the River Cart does not stop: it turns swiftly and enters the summit of Kunlun. Here, the River Cart, true lead, true fire, and the summit of Kunlun are all terms in Neidan cultivation describing the formation of the ingredients, the tempering of the fire, and their movement.

Metal is the mother of water, and water is the child of metal: the child is hidden in the mother’s womb.

Metal can generate water, so metal is called the mother of water. Water is the child of metal because water contains metal. This is the meaning of “the mother conceals the child in her womb” and “the child is hidden in the mother’s womb.” When practitioners understand what “metal in water” means, they can understand the source from which the ingredients are formed.

The True Person’s activity is exceedingly subtle, seeming both present and absent, as though deep within an abyss, at times sinking and at times rising.

Here, “True Person” refers to the original Shen. “Seeming present and absent” means that it continues unbroken and seems to exist, yet cannot be forced into action. “As though deep within an abyss, at times sinking and at times rising” describes the True Person moving through a remote and hidden place, its presence and absence uncertain. Xiao Zixu’s Collected Works on the Great Accomplishment of the Golden Elixir says: “On Kunlun’s summit, along the path of Yellow Radiance, the original Shen is sometimes drawn away, then returns.” The “Great Abyss” mentioned here is Kunlun.

Advance and retreat each follow their proper sequence, each keeping to its appointed position.

In the alchemical method, Yang Qi advances from the Zi hour and retreats after the Wu hour. Advance and retreat each follow their sequence and keep within their respective bounds, without becoming confused. Yang Xubai’s Verses on the Pure Essence of the Golden Elixir says: “Before the furnace at Zi and Wu, advance and retreat are distinguished; within the Qian-Kun cauldron, rising and sinking are kept apart.”

What is gathered is white; after refinement, it becomes vermilion.

“White” refers to white lead, and “red” to red mercury. To gather substances of the same kind is to take white lead from the northern Kan Palace as the mother of the Elixir; white lead and red mercury correspond as kindred substances and follow one another. During refinement, the fire phases are applied each day: the lead vapor is drawn off, then mercury is added. Chen Momo’s Chongzheng Pian says: “Guard the River Chariot within, abiding at the Northern Gate; from the beginning, Heaven’s One Water comes first. To join the tally, the fire of the complete celestial circuit is required; the principle is like a boat that carries one across to the farther shore. Its skillful movement continues through day and night; its turning and revolving reach the utmost subtlety, like the celestial pivot. When adepts who cultivate the Elixir understand this, only then do they recognize that true lead requires no lead.” These lines describe refining and circulating through methods such as inwardly guarding the River Chariot and applying the fire phases of the complete celestial circuit. Practitioners often know only that lead and mercury must unite to form the medicine, but do not know to use the fire phases to draw off lead and add mercury. Even if an Elixir embryo forms, it will inevitably dissipate.

“Refining it as an outer guard” means circulating the true fire in the external furnace to protect and sustain it. “Dwelling in purity within the white” means that the Golden Elixir rests securely in the internal furnace. Even when the Elixir is present in the internal furnace, it must be matured through day and night of refinement and nourishment with the aid of the external furnace’s fire. Hao Guangning’s Taigu Ji says: “The luminous pearl turns at the crown, its radiance appearing of itself; a hidden treasure rests in the belly, shining brilliantly and secure.” This describes the fire circulating outside while the Elixir is stored within.

The Elixir furnace combines a square shape with a round one and is about one inch in diameter; its inner and outer parts intermingle and support one another. It came into being before Heaven and Earth and stands lofty and exalted. Walls and gates rise beside it, and its shape resembles Penghu. It is encircled on all sides and its entrances are sealed, yet it opens in every direction, with Qi moving ceaselessly to and fro. Its defenses must be kept secure to bar the entry of harmful influences. Within, its winding passages connect to one another, with barriers set in place to prevent the unforeseen.

“An inch square” refers to the Muddy Pellet Palace, the place at the center of the head regarded as the abode of the Original Spirit. Today people call only the heart “the inch-square space,” but they do not know that the upper, middle, and lower Dantians of the body each contain an empty space about an inch across, and that their Qi channels connect and mingle, supporting one another.

“The head has nine palaces, with the Muddy Pellet among them” means that the Muddy Pellet lies within the nine palaces of the head. The Huangting Jing says, “The nine perfected ones of the Muddy Pellet each have a chamber; an inch-square space lies here within.” This is precisely the place it describes.

“Born before Heaven and Earth” means that this aperture in the Muddy Pellet is the root of all the body’s apertures. When it opens, the other apertures also become clear and unobstructed. “Lofty and supremely exalted” means that the Muddy Pellet Palace sits atop Kunlun Peak, where the Original Spirit resides. It corresponds above to the Mysterious Capital, the celestial immortal realm in Daoist teaching, and is also where the many spirits gather.

“Surrounded by walls and gates” means that the seven apertures are arranged around it, while palaces such as the Grotto Chamber and Yellow Portal lie in front. “Shaped like Penghu” means that it resembles the three sacred mountains in the sea, with Penglai among them. “Enclosed all around” means drawing back the gaze, gathering the spirit inward, and carefully sealing the body’s apertures. “The four passages wind and turn” means that original, harmonious Qi circulates within the body, allowing the single Qi to flow freely, like a Vermilion Bird circling through the air around the Jade Terrace.

“To guard it firmly and securely” means protecting body and mind with constant attention, like a dragon tending its pearl, and keeping the breath unbroken, like a hen incubating an egg. “To block out evil influences” means that even if demonic states from the outside intrude, one need only use inner resolve to restrain them. “Curving chambers linked together, to guard against the unexpected” means that whenever thoughts stray outward, they should be drawn back at once, like two young attendants guarding the grotto gate against unforeseen events.

One may be free of thought, but it is hard to endure worry and toil

Tan Changzhen’s Collected Works on Clouds and Water says, “Do not let the slightest thought linger in your heart.” When a divine embryo forms within the heart, it can bear the perfected immortals. When the heart is free of contrivance, Qi becomes calm; when Qi is calm, the precious Golden Elixir can coalesce. When the heart acts with intention, Qi becomes turbulent; when Qi is turbulent, the essence is depleted. Thus one can avoid deluded thoughts, but it is hard to endure worry and toil.

When spirit and Qi fill the room, nothing can keep them there; those who preserve them flourish, those who lose them perish; in activity, stillness, and rest, they are always with us

When spirit and Qi fill the whole body, nothing can keep them there. Preserve spirit and Qi, and life flourishes; lose them, and life declines. Whether active, still, or at rest, spirit and Qi are always with us.

Only practices cultivated and accumulated steadily over a long time can fill body and mind with the qi of Great Harmony (calm, pure primordial qi). Whether active or still, awake or at rest, one must guard it carefully at all times. If it is preserved, it flourishes; if lost, it withers. One must never neglect to protect it.

This is not the correct way to cultivate. Some people turn their attention inward, yet their minds teem with distracting thoughts. They also perform ritual steps on the Dipper and follow the Six Jia cycles and the dates of the calendar, becoming absorbed in Yin arts and rejecting the proper Way. As a result, their minds and spirits grow turbid and scattered, damaging their foundations. Under the name of “nourishing qi,” they make their stomachs and intestines rumble; in their breathing practices, what they inhale is instead harmful outside influences. They stay awake day and night and do not rest even at the end and beginning of the lunar month. Their bodies grow increasingly tired and dazed, like those of the feeble-minded; the hundred vessels grow agitated and unsettled, and they can no longer recover stillness and clarity.

They may also pile up earth to build an altar, making reverent offerings morning and evening in the vain hope that spirits will reveal themselves in visible form or respond to them in dreams. They then delight in these experiences and imagine that such practices will prolong their lives. Instead, they die suddenly, their corpses left to rot in the open. These various practices often violate ordinary principles and abandon the essential methods. Such arts are too numerous to count, with a thousand branches and ten thousand varieties, yet all run counter to the Way of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, and stray far from the Nine Capitals, the Daoist realm of immortals and spirits.

There are three thousand six hundred methods of health cultivation and refinement, and far too many associated schools to list. Some close their eyes and turn their gaze inward, successively visualizing the heart and spirit in the five viscera. Others follow the pacing patterns of the Big Dipper and the stars of the Dipper, making offerings to the Jia spirits on prescribed days. Can these really be the way of the Golden Elixir?

Some practice bedroom arts, using “nine shallow thrusts and one deep thrust” as the measure of the firing process, only to disrupt the original embryo. Some practice breathing in Qi, treating the expulsion of stale breath and inhalation of fresh breath as medicine, but instead leave their stomachs and intestines empty and rumbling. Some sit motionless for long periods, staying awake day and night. Others force themselves to practice diligently, heedless of bodily fatigue. Still others shake their heads and sway their bodies, clenching their fists and straining, causing Qi and blood to surge and sometimes even bringing on abscesses and ulcers. Some pile up earth to build an altar and make offerings morning and evening; later, they dream at night of ghosts coupling and become entangled in strange and perverse affairs.

At first, these people are filled with joy, convinced they will surely prolong their lives. In the end, however, they die prematurely, their bodies decaying. Their practices violate the Yellow Emperor’s teachings and are wholly at odds with the purpose of the Old Lord. If they persist in delusion and fall into such a state, whom can they blame but themselves? For this reason, Wang Liangqi wrote The Song for Breaking Delusion, and Chen Niman wrote The Rhapsody of Mount Luofu. They set out the errors in the many deviant arts practiced in the world, writing at length—two or three thousand characters—because they feared that later generations would fail to receive the true transmission and stray onto crooked paths. Those who study the Dao today need only read the words of these two masters, Wang and Chen, to see where these practices go astray and reflect on their own conduct.

If a clear-minded person examines the underlying intent, the way will open up in the heart, and they will know where to begin their practice.

Wei Boyang, known as Master Wei, wrote The Zhouyi Cantong Qi. Its meaning is clear: it is like a lamp in a dark alley, or a compass in a bewildering sea. Its purpose is to enable perceptive people in later generations to grasp its meaning through the written words and understand the path of cultivation. Master Wei’s intent was truly benevolent. Yet some treat the work as empty talk on paper and never read it carefully. This is to abandon themselves, and it is regrettable.

Practice diligently, without slackening morning or night.

Qiu Chuji, known as Qiu Changchun, says in The Collection on the Way’s Manifestation: “Cultivation does not succeed simply by sitting in meditation and practicing morning and night, or by contorting the body into poses.” Refining the Ninefold-Turn Golden Liquid Great Elixir, a method of Daoist internal alchemy, is different from the lesser comforts sought by deviant schools. One must set aside worldly affairs and devote oneself wholeheartedly to diligent practice, day and night, for the work to have any chance of reaching completion.

One must practice diligently, without pause from morning to night.

Qiu Changchun says in the Mingdao ji that cultivation cannot be achieved by sitting for a while each morning and evening or by deliberately adopting the appearance of a practitioner. The Nine-Turn Golden Elixir of Liquid Gold, an important method of Daoist internal alchemy, is unlike the minor comforts offered by heterodox methods. Success requires refusing worldly affairs, concentrating wholeheartedly, and cultivating diligently day and night. Peng Zhenyi likewise says that those who practice the Dao must distance themselves from sensual pleasures, give up addictions and desires, let go of fame and profit, travel to a numinous mountain, end ordinary social relations, befriend fellow immortals, withdraw from the world, and practice without respite, day and night. Only then can they hope to achieve anything. Without this, their efforts are in vain.

The Cui Xu pian says that those attached to outward forms will not attain the true results of cultivation; practicing in the morning and stopping in the evening does not count as wholehearted devotion. One should therefore not readily believe the claim that working at one’s practice for only two periods each day is enough to master the timing of the alchemical fire. In the past, Huangfu Lüdao saw Wang Sanyi setting out counters and a pot, and asked what they were for. Wang replied that they helped him grasp the essentials of the Zi and Wu periods. Huangfu answered: “Practice should not be interrupted during any of the twelve periods. Why restrict it to Zi and Wu?” In the end, the Way of the Elixir is the same as the Way of Heaven: Heaven’s movement never ceases for even an instant, so how could the Way of the Elixir ever be interrupted?

Ma Danyang says in the Jianwu ji: “My master’s kindness is so profound that I can never repay it. I vow that even if I die within the encircling walls, I will refine the utmost truth.” The “encircling walls” refer to a place of cultivation enclosed by walls and cut off from human contact. It shuts out external distractions so that one can devote oneself to practice.

After three years of ingesting the elixir, one can make distant journeys with a lightened body; cross flames without being burned and enter water without getting wet; appear and disappear at will; and enjoy eternal peace without sorrow. Once the Dao is attained and De perfected, one withdraws from the world and waits for the right time. Taiyi, a title of a Daoist deity, then summons the practitioner to move to the Central Continent, a dwelling place of immortals. When the work is complete, the practitioner ascends to become an immortal and receives the registers and charts bestowed by the celestial realm.

The cultivation of the Golden Elixir requires only a brief moment. The Cui Xu Pian says, “In a brief moment, the cultivation can become manifest; yet to reach maturity, one must still pass through three years.” The “brief moment” refers to the time when the Elixir is formed. The “three years” means that after a year of secluded cultivation, one must continue to nurture it gently and should not set out on a long journey at once. Zhongli Zhengyang’s Zhixuan, chapter thirty-nine, says, “The infant is still small and not yet grown; it must rely on the mother’s kindness to raise it.” This is precisely the point.

After three years of gentle nurturing, the cultivator moves with the lightness of smoke and clouds and can travel far without burden. Even if floodwaters engulf the sky, they will not drown; even if a great drought melts metal and stone and scorches the mountains and earth, they will not be harmed. They hold life and death in their own hands, and enjoy enduring peace, free from worry. Yet after the nurturing is complete, they should still live in seclusion among ordinary people, accumulate merit, and save living beings; only then may they drift away. Cultivators, therefore, should not seek only their own personal purity. The text is incomplete here. Its examples also mention [lacuna], who entrusted the spiritual root to Huangfu Lüdao and guided later students, as well as Jinhua Dongshan’s warning to Yang Xubai: one must not seek only a secluded life of quiet cultivation, but must help others through acts of merit in order to attain immortality and depart.

The Huojì is not a fabrication; it uses the Zhouyi to explain its principles.

In antiquity there were six hundred chapters of the Huojì. Why so many? The Peng Zhenyi Huandan Jin Yaochi says, “The six hundred chapters of the Huojì are alike, chapter after chapter.” The six hundred chapters can also be understood as an expansion of the sixty hexagrams: in brief, the cycles of the firing process number sixty hexagrams; elaborated and extended, they become six hundred chapters. The sixty hexagrams correspond to the firing process over one month, and the six hundred chapters to that over ten months. Thus the Huojì was not invented out of nothing, but uses the Zhouyi to demonstrate its principles.

The waxing-crescent moon serves as the furnace and vessel, and the White Tiger is the pivot of the refining process. The Mercury Sun transforms into a flowing pearl, while the Azure Dragon moves together with it. They rise from the East and unite with the West, binding the hun and po souls together.

The waxing-crescent furnace is the lead furnace, located in the Kan position, which symbolizes the North and Water; the White Tiger dwells within it. The Flowing Pearl Palace is the mercury cauldron, located in the position called “Brightness.”

The “Waxing-Moon Furnace” is the furnace for refining lead, and the “Flowing-Pearl Palace” is the cauldron for refining mercury. The furnace is located in Kan, which represents water and the north, where the White Tiger dwells. The cauldron is located in Li, which represents fire and the south, where the Azure Dragon dwells. “The White Tiger serves as the smelting pivot” means that the White Tiger lies hidden in the Dantian, where fire is kindled below the navel. “The Azure Dragon goes along with it” means directing the Azure Dragon downward to unite with the White Tiger.

East and west refer to Kan and Li; the soul and spirit are metaphors drawn from the sun and moon. The directions in which the Dragon and Tiger appear, and the sources from which lead and mercury arise, are not governed by two different principles. The Wang Yixuan’s Secret Instructions on the Great Elixir of the Red Dragon says: “If you can discern how the Dragon follows the Tiger’s movements, you will also know that mercury is within lead.” A practitioner who understands the key to directing the Dragon toward the Tiger will also understand the teaching of placing mercury into lead. The Treatise on Returning to Destiny says: “The master points out the Azure Dragon’s mercury and guides it into the White Tiger’s lead; once the two unite, they are refined by water and fire for many years.” It also says: “Once the Dragon and Tiger unite, they grow mutually dear and attached; as soon as Kan and Li meet, an Elixir embryo forms. The essence of Heaven and Earth condenses into a handful; seek it with single-minded focus, and it can be drawn in.”

The method of Elixir refinement is in fact exceedingly simple and easy: unite the soul of the eastern Azure Dragon with the spirit of the western White Tiger. Then east and west are no longer divided; the Dragon and Tiger unite of themselves, soul and spirit join, and purple gold is produced. In his commentary on the Jing of the Golden and Jade, Dragon and Tiger, Wang Baoyi explains that refining the supreme medicine depends on water and fire. Once water and fire unite, the Dragon and Tiger Qi within the cauldron harmonize with each other and condense into liquid gold.

During Elixir refinement, if you can remain open and still, quiet your mind, and gather Shen in the Qi cavity—the bodily locus where spirit is housed and Qi is circulated—then the eastern and western directions will correspond, Metal and Wood will unite, and north and south will blend. When water and fire reach their balanced union, the Four Symbols and Five Phases will converge and return to unity, condensing into an Elixir. Why force the process?

The upper crescent belongs to Dui and has the number eight; the lower crescent belongs to Gen and also has the number eight. When the essence of the two crescents unites, the form of Heaven and Earth takes shape. The two eights make one jin, in accord with the principles of the Yi; the measure is exact and without deviation. One jin contains three hundred and eighty-four zhu, corresponding also to the total number of hexagram lines.

When the moon reaches its first quarter, the Dui trigram (a symbol of change between Yin and Yang) is in season. Half of the moon’s face shines, so this is called “at the first quarter, Dui corresponds to eight.” When the moon reaches its last quarter, the Gen trigram is in season. Half of its face is in shadow, so this is called “at the last quarter, Gen likewise corresponds to eight.” Taken together, the two quarters correspond to Qian and Kun (trigrams that symbolize Yin and Yang) and to the cauldron vessel, a metaphor for alchemical practice. The principles of the ingredients and the timing of the firing process are contained in this correspondence.

“Two eights make one catty; the Way of Change remains balanced” means that Yin and Yang each contribute eight ounces, making one catty in all, in equilibrium and in accord with the Yin-Yang way of the Classic of Changes. The moon has its first and last quarters: the first quarter takes half a catty of metal, or 192 zhu; the last quarter takes half a catty of water, also 192 zhu. Together they amount to 384 zhu. The Classic of Changes has sixty-four hexagrams, each with six lines: 192 yang lines and 192 yin lines, 384 lines in total. Wei Boyang used these numbers to explain the mysteries of the Elixir Way. The point is simply that Yin and Yang should be equal and properly matched; it does not mean that the ingredients literally weigh 384 zhu or that practice involves counting out 384 lines.

The Wuzhen pian says, “Two eights in equal measure naturally join as one”; Chen Suyang’s Zhidao pian says, “In silent concealment, I regulate the two eights.” “Two eights” here means that each side weighs eight ounces, equal in weight and neither favoring one side. To insist on measuring by zhu or by lines, holding prayer beads and counting one’s breaths, only adds needless effort. This is not the simplest and easiest way to cultivate.

As for the Fuming pian, which says, “They gather according to kind and divide into groups; the two sides rise together to make one catty,” and the Jindan dacheng ji, which says, “Few who enter the two-eight gate understand; the time before and after the quarter moon is just right,” these refer to the Xun gate within the body, a cultivation opening associated with the Xun trigram. They do not mean eight ounces at the first quarter and eight ounces at the last quarter.

When gold is placed in a raging fire, neither its color nor its brilliance changes. Since the world began, the light of the sun and moon has not diminished, nor has the weight of gold lessened; the sun and moon retain their forms as before. Gold originally comes from the sun. At each new moon, the first day of the lunar month, it receives the sun’s correspondence; at the dark moon, the end of the month, gold returns to its source.

When gold is cast into fierce fire, its color does not change; instead, its pure, lustrous sheen emerges. Since the creation of Heaven and Earth, the brightness of the sun and moon has never diminished, and gold has never lost its weight. The sun and moon remain as they are. Gold originally comes from the sun, just as the moon begins to receive the sun’s light on the day of the new moon. Gold returns to its source, as the sun and moon join at the end of the lunar month: the moonlight vanishes, and the moon’s body sinks into the void. Gold recovers its original nature, its awe-inspiring radiance appears, and the cauldron bursts into flame.

All things in the world are destroyed by fire; only true gold remains intact. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) generate one another, and their progression reaches its culmination in Metal. Gold is a treasure: when melted, it takes on the form of water; when struck, it rings with the sound of fire. It is pliable like wood, and its color is like earth. The four qualities of Water, Fire, Wood, and Earth are all gathered in gold. Thus, the more true gold is refined, the stronger it becomes, and it never loses its own weight or nature. Since the creation of Heaven and Earth, through countless years, the sun and moon have remained unchanged in form and undiminished in brightness. This is because the refined essences of Yin and Yang contain one another and each remains in its proper place, allowing the sun and moon to endure unchanged. Among the celestial bodies, none shines more prominently than the sun and moon; in the art of alchemy, none is more prominent than gold and fire. Here, gold corresponds to the moon, and fire to the sun. People know only that gold resembles moonlight, but not that moonlight originally comes from the sun.

The moon belongs to Great Yin. It has a body but no light of its own; its waxing and waning depend on how much sunlight it receives. On the first day of the lunar month, the moon is joined with the sun. After three days it begins to show light; on the eighth day, at the first quarter, it is half bright; on the fifteenth, the full moon, it is roundest and brightest. After that, it gradually wanes. On the twenty-third day, at the last quarter, it is half bright; on the thirtieth, the dark of the moon, its light is gone, and it is joined with the sun again. At the beginning of the month, the moon moves away from the sun, receiving its light and gradually turning white. At the dark of the moon, it joins the sun: the moon’s body is still there, but its light has vanished, so its form appears completely black.

In the language of alchemy, “Gold originally comes from the sun; at dawn on the new moon it receives the sun’s tally” means that the true gold of Great Yin is born in the Kun Palace, the position symbolizing Yin and Earth, and is originally formed by the true fire of the sun. When it first receives the refined essence, it is like the moon beginning to receive sunlight on the day of the new moon. “Gold returns to its mother; at the moon’s dark, sun and moon embrace” means that gold remains with fire in the Kun Palace, just as the sun and moon join at the dark of the moon. “It hides its outer form and sinks into the empty void” means that spirit and Qi sink deep into their root and gradually settle at the bottom of the sea, as if the moon had disappeared from view. “Gold recovers its former nature, and the cauldron’s awe-inspiring radiance blazes” means that the moon’s body is originally dark and appears white only when it receives sunlight. Now it joins with the sun and conceals its outward form, thereby recovering its original blackness. If one holds to this darkness without asking when it will turn white, then, after sustained practice, spiritual clarity will naturally appear. In an instant, light shines through the cauldron and the fire grows fierce. Thus, “On the third day, Geng is born and the Dui gate opens”: black silver flies out, and white silver is refined.

When the numbers of Zi and Wu are joined, they make three. Zi corresponds to Water and has the number one; Wu corresponds to Fire and has the number two. Water and Fire together make three. Earth has the number five, so Wu and Ji at the center, which represent central Earth, are also called five. Three and five together make eight, hence the term “Eight Minerals.” When Water, Fire, and Earth are harmonized and joined, the guiding order is established.

When Water, Fire, and Earth unite as one, this is called “the harmony of three and five.” Earth naturally overcomes Water, and Water overcomes Fire, so how can they be said to be harmonious? Here, Earth serves as a mediator between Water and Fire, regulating and coordinating them so that Water and Fire form a pair, like husband and wife, and can thus be harmonious. “The Eight Minerals set the guiding order straight” means that once Water, Fire, and Earth unite as one, the governing principles and patterns are properly ordered, and all things each find their proper place.

Breath mutually nourishes and sustains, then rests in stillness, like husband and wife joined together.

As Yang Qi rises and Yin Qi descends, this may be seen as the breath of Heaven and Earth. Heaven and Earth circulate the breath within themselves and so endure without cease. If people can model themselves on Heaven and Earth and circulate the breath within their bodies, they too may endure as long as Heaven and Earth.

The Collected Works on the Great Accomplishment of the Golden Elixir says: “When exhaling, the heart corresponds with the lungs; when inhaling, the kidneys correspond with the liver. Exhaling is like connecting with the root of Heaven; inhaling is like connecting with the root of Earth. As one exhales, it is like a dragon’s roar and clouds rising; as one inhales, it is like a tiger’s growl and wind arising. Between breaths, wind and clouds gather and transform into Golden Liquid.” This refers to the breath of the single Qi within the body as it circulates naturally, not to breathing through the mouth and nose.

Li Changyuan’s Precious Chapters of Primordial Unity says that one need only let the Maiden (a term in Golden Elixir practice for the body’s Yin essence and Qi) move back and forth wherever “True Person breathing” circulates. The practitioner quiets the mind and gathers the spirit, turning its light inward (gathering the mind and observing within), following the breath’s rise and fall at the place where True Person breathing occurs, letting it move naturally and nourishing it. After a while, the breaths nourish and harmonize one another. The practitioner remains still and steadfast, enabling them to unite as one and form the “husband and wife” (the union of Yin and Yang Qi).

Where does “True Person breathing” circulate? Liao Chanhui’s Inner Chapters of the Three Vehicles says: “In front corresponds to the navel center; behind corresponds to the kidneys; between them stands a true Golden Tripod.” This is the place where True Person breathing occurs. The Jing of the Yellow Court says: “Behind is the hidden portal; before is the gate of life. The sun rises and the moon sets; there the breath abides.” It is only because people’s thoughts do not reach this place that their breathing does not occur there.

The Zhuangzi: True Classic of Southern Florescence says: “The True Person breathes from the heels; ordinary people breathe from the throat.” When breathing remains in the throat, its location is shallow and near, so it is short. Deep, sustained breathing seems to extend all the way to the heels. When one cultivates breathing that is deep and sustained, one can take charge of one’s own nature and life, no longer subject to the workings of Heaven and Earth (the “Great Smelter,” meaning the furnace of Heaven and Earth’s transformations).

The Treatise on Returning to the Source says: “Below the heart and above the kidneys, west of the liver and left of the lungs, it is neither intestine nor stomach; a current of Qi flows through naturally.” The location is pointed out so plainly and clearly—what could there be to doubt?

Yellow Earth is the father of Metal; the Flowing Pearl (mercury) is the mother of Water. Water regards Earth as its demon: when Earth blocks the way, Water cannot rise. The Vermilion Bird, the essence of Fire, holds the balance and harmonizes victory and defeat. When Water Qi grows too strong, Fire is extinguished; both return together to the thick Earth. Once the three lineages (the essences of different natures, such as Metal, Wood, and Water) have come together, they return together to their original nature and serve a single ancestor.

Earth occupies the center, so it is called “Yellow Earth.” Earth can generate metal, hence the saying, “Yellow Earth is the father of metal.” “Flowing Pearl” refers to mercury. Because it moves without settling, it is called the Flowing Pearl. When the Flowing Pearl enters water, it congeals into true gold. Metal can generate water, hence the saying, “The Flowing Pearl is the mother of water.”

Earth naturally generates metal, and metal in turn generates water. But when earth enters water, it constrains the water, so the water cannot carry the metal upward. Hence the saying, “Water takes earth as its ghost”: earth acts like a force that subdues water, making it stagnate and preventing it from rising. If the fire of the Vermilion Bird of the South—a divine creature representing southern fire and the fire aspect—is used to cook and refine it fiercely, the fire grows strong, the water boils, and the metal rises with it. The Vermilion Bird is the essence of southern fire. It governs balance and the adjustment of victory and defeat, and is also associated with summer. Here, Kan water, the trigram symbolizing water, is subdued by earth, then boiled with fire so that it rises.

Once the boiling water rises into the southern Li Palace, the trigram position symbolizing fire, Li fire is in turn overcome and extinguished by Kan water. But the water must not become too abundant, so earth is again used to restrain it. When water meets earth, it stops. Hence the saying, “When water flourishes, fire is extinguished; both water and fire return to thick earth.” Water and fire meeting earth are called the “three natures.” After the three natures come together, they blend into one and return to the Kun Palace, the trigram position symbolizing the earth that bears all things. This is the meaning of “Once the three natures unite, they return together to their shared nature and ancestral source”: the three join as one and return to their common origin.

Giant’s Seed (sesame) can prolong life, and the Golden Elixir can also be consumed. The nature of metal does not decay; even fire cannot destroy it. Water and fire ultimately return to thick earth. When practitioners consume the Golden Elixir, they can attain longevity.

“Giant Victory” is sesame. If taking sesame can prolong life, how much more so the “Great Return Elixir of Nine Cycles of Golden Liquids,” a pill refined and cultivated through Daoist internal alchemy? It is formed when the Qi of Metal is flourishing, condensing the pure, authentic Qi between Heaven and Earth into a “sacred embryo,” the internal elixir produced through cultivation. Could such an elixir not enable one to live forever? Moreover, the nature of Metal is hard and strong; it does not decay even after ten thousand years and is the most precious of all things. It is only natural that immortals prize it. For this reason, this elixir is not called the Water Elixir, Fire Elixir, Wood Elixir, or Earth Elixir, but is known exclusively as the Golden Elixir.

Earth travels through the four seasons, keeping boundaries and setting rules

Earth has no fixed position. It moves among the times and directions associated with Chen, Xu, Chou, and Wei: Chen corresponds to late spring, Wei to late summer, Xu to late autumn, and Chou to late winter. Since Earth moves through each of the four seasons, spring, summer, autumn, and winter can all be called places where Earth travels. Hence the saying, “Earth travels through the four seasons.”

Earth can cause Water to dry up and can also contain Fire. When Earth stands by Water, Water stops flowing; when it stands beside Fire, Fire no longer burns. In cultivation, Earth is stationed at the Kun position, symbolizing Earth and Yin, to gather the medicine, and at the Qian position, symbolizing Heaven and Yang, to circulate the Fire. Thus Earth keeps boundaries and establishes rules.

Metallic sand enters the five viscera; mist scatters like wind and rain

After the “metallic sand,” an elixir used in internal alchemy cultivation, rises into the cauldron, it passes through the two kidneys, travels upward along the spinal channel between the shoulder blades, passes through the Heart Channel, and enters the sea of marrow. It then surges through the lung shu point, passes through the liver and spleen, and finally returns to the Dantian. As it rises, it seems as if clouds and mist spread in every direction, or as if wind and rain suddenly descend. In a daze, it is like waking from a vivid dream in broad daylight: the heavy illnesses and pains of the body vanish in an instant. The spirit blends as one, like husband and wife coming together; the bones and flesh become harmonious, as if just after bathing. These are experiences that truly occur in cultivation, not metaphors.

The Treatise on Returning to the Mandate says, “Those who do not know may think this is a real transformation arising naturally from the breath.” Only those who have experienced it themselves can truly understand.

When true Qi flows like steam into the limbs, a person naturally feels clear and refreshed, and the complexion grows bright. White hair turns black, and lost teeth grow back. Elderly men regain the vigor of their prime, while elderly women become like young girls again. Their appearance changes, and they escape the suffering of the world. Such a person is called a “Perfected One” (zhenren).

Let us consider the matter further. Human beings, together with Heaven and Earth, are counted as the “Three Powers”; it might therefore seem that we too should endure as long as Heaven and Earth. Yet Heaven and Earth are without end, while people do not live beyond a hundred years. Why? Because humans are only one kind of creature within Heaven and Earth. We are called “human” in particular because we have greater spiritual capacity than other creatures, but this does not mean we share Heaven and Earth’s longevity. If we can draw upon the mysteries of Heaven and Earth’s creative power and refine the Golden Elixir (the elixir of immortality spoken of in Daoism), we can endure from the beginning to the end of Heaven and Earth. Only such a person is called a Perfected One. Having become a Perfected One, one surpasses the ordinary and enters the realm of the sages, no longer constrained by the physical body one once had. One roams freely beyond the bounds of ordinary life and escapes the suffering of the world forever.

When lead powder is put into fire, its color changes and then returns to lead; when ice and snow meet hot water, they melt. The Golden Elixir is based on gold and tempered with mercury. Its transformations follow its own true nature, continuing in an unbroken sequence. Those who wish to take the elixir and cultivate immortality should use things of the same kind to assist one another: millet is used as a covering when grain is sown, and eggs are used to hatch chickens. When things are matched according to their nature, the refining is more likely to succeed. Fish eyes cannot serve as pearls, and mugwort cannot grow into a catalpa tree. Only things of the same kind can go together; if their natures do not match, they cannot be refined into a treasure. Thus, sparrows do not produce phoenixes, and foxes and rabbits do not produce horses. Water flows downward and cannot burn upward; fire rises upward and cannot moisten downward.

Lead white is originally black lead, transformed through firing and refining. If it is put back into the fire, it turns into lead again. Ice and snow form when Yin Qi congeals; pour warm water over them, and they melt into water. This is because all things return to their source, as is naturally the case.

The method of refining gold centers on sand, with mercury added to it. Mercury originates in sand, so sand and mercury are of the same kind. Only when they respond to one another can they bring about successive transformations. This depends on the true union of things of the same kind. The Wuzhen Pian says: “When bamboo is split, bamboo must be used to mend it; to hatch a chick, one must use an egg. Using things that have nothing to do with one another is a waste of effort. Nothing compares to the union of things of the same kind, which accords with the Sages’ teaching.” This means that when True Mercury, the Yin aspect in alchemical terminology, obtains True Lead, the Yang aspect, their Yin and Yang Qi respond to one another: this is the union of things of the same kind. It is like planting crops with the appropriate seeds, or hatching a chicken from an egg. Things of the same kind follow one another; the Dao follows nature, and transformation can be achieved without force. If one abandons what is of the same kind and seeks something else, it is like mistaking a fish’s eye for a pearl or expecting mugwort to grow into a catalpa tree. If things are of different kinds, how could they transform into one another? Swallows give birth to swallows, and sparrows to sparrows; neither can produce a phoenix. Foxes give birth to foxes, and rabbits to rabbits; neither can produce horses. Fire by nature rises, so can it be made to flow downward and moisten things? Water by nature descends, so can it be made to rise and burn?

Therefore, those who wish to refine and take elixirs in pursuit of immortality should take things of the same kind as their basis, for things of the same kind follow one another. If the materials used are incompatible, they cannot produce an elixir.

Yet each of us already contains a Heaven and Earth, and a complement of Yin and Yang. The Huanyuan Pian, however, says one must “seize the essence of Heaven and Earth in the instant of intercourse.” This means one must steal the Qi of Heaven and Earth—that is, the Qi of the “holy father and numinous mother” generated by the sun and moon. The Qi within the human body, by contrast, is formed from flesh and blood and comes from ordinary parents. According to this view, by borrowing the Qi of one’s true parents, one can transform the ordinary body into a pure Yang True Immortal, living as long as Heaven and Earth.

Some people are themselves benighted and do not understand that their own bodies and the cosmos are of the same kind. Instead, they seek supposed counterparts outside themselves, falsely claiming that a virgin girl is True Lead. They dress up their heretical teachings by invoking the story of the Yellow Emperor and the Dark Maiden discussing sexual techniques, pandering to the desires of the scholar-official class. As a result, some wealthy and official households practiced these methods, often with fatal consequences. The Tang dynasty chancellor Xiahou Zi was not the only one to suffer disaster.

Ge Hong, in the Baopuzi, likened these methods to “using an ice cup to hold hot soup, or wrapping fire in feathers.” Tao Hongjing, in the Zhen’gao, compared them to “embracing jade and leaping into fire” and to “burying a dog in a golden coffin.” The Dongyuanzi called them “the conduct of dogs and pigs,” while Li Yuxi called them “seeds of hell.” Daoist alchemical books throughout the ages have condemned these methods so harshly because they harm others and ultimately harm their practitioners as well. The Nanhua Zhenjing says: “Do not wear out the body; do not agitate the vital essence.” In this way, one may attain long life. No one has ever claimed that one can attain long life through sexual techniques involving women. Today, such claims have become a source of harm: they slander the True Ones of earlier generations and mislead later students. Among the various heterodox practices, this is perhaps the one that does the greatest harm to the Daoist tradition.

Many people in the world who study the Dao believe themselves to be exceptionally discerning and talented. Yet, lacking the good fortune to meet a true master, they waste their alchemical fire and lose their money. They follow only the surface meanings of the scriptures, guessing at the methods of cultivation according to their own imagination. With no sound basis to guide them, they lose their sense of proportion.

They mix together substances such as qiangshi, chalcanthite, mica, arsenolite, magnetite, sulfur, Yuzhang clay, and mercury, then fan the flames and smelt the mixture, casting what they call “Five-Stone Copper.” They hope to use it as a crucial aid in alchemy. But these substances each have different properties—how could they naturally combine into one? After thousands or even tens of thousands of experiments, failure is usually the result. To hope for success by sheer luck is wishful thinking.

Only sages understand the secret. Some people cultivate from youth until their hair turns white, yet doubts still arise halfway through. They turn away from the right path and cling stubbornly to delusion, leaving the true road only to enter a crooked one. It is like looking through a tube: the field of vision is narrow, making it hard to foresee the wider possibilities ahead.

The Wuzhen pian says: Even if your intelligence and talent surpass those of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, do not try to guess if you have not met a true master. If you have not received the crucial teachings of the alchemical classics, doubts will arise halfway through your cultivation. You will turn away from the right path and cling to delusion, leaving the true road for a crooked one. With a narrow outlook and limited understanding, it is hard to gauge the changes that lie ahead.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, do not force yourself to speculate if you have not met a True Person—a master who has attained the Dao. Without the oral formula for the elixir scriptures, where will you learn to form the numinous embryo, the essence produced through Neidan practice?”

There have always been learned people in the world who delight in seeking the Dao. Yet few may be fortunate enough to meet a true teacher and receive the authentic transmission. Some burn and refine medicines such as the Three Yellows and Four Spirits, mistakenly believing that the Dao lies in them. They do not understand that the five metals and eight minerals are all tangible things of the world, each with its own kind and nature. How could they naturally combine through refining into a single whole? Those who pursue such arts often fail even after hundreds or thousands of attempts, and may become so obsessed that they cannot see their mistake. They lack the right opportunity and method, and have also lost their guiding principles.

Chapter Thirty-Nine of the Zhixuan says: “Visit teachers and seek companions to learn the burning of elixirs; carefully select cinnabar to refine the Great Reversion Elixir. I thought the Waidan could be transformed into an inner medicine; it turns out that metals and minerals have nothing to do with this.” The divine Great Reversion Elixir of golden liquid spoken of here is a wondrous medicine brought forth from nothing. Cinnabar and mercury are merely symbols and metaphors. Sadly, people do not understand true lead and mercury—the symbols for Yin-Yang, Jing and Qi, and other aspects of Neidan practice—and mistake ordinary cinnabar and mercury for ingredients in elixir making. They often waste their money and spend their time tending the fire to no avail, accomplishing nothing in the end. They grow white-haired without finding what they seek, and then lament that the Dao is vague and elusive.

Alas, the true principle is simple and uncomplicated, while the words that express ultimate truth are plain and without flavor. Who is willing to believe them, let alone put them into practice? Some even receive the authentic transmission, yet begin to doubt it halfway through. People do not understand true lead and mercury, and mistake ordinary cinnabar and mercury for ingredients in elixir making. They waste their money and achieve nothing, growing old without finding what they seek, then lament that the Dao is empty. The true principle is simple and uncomplicated, and the words of ultimate truth are plain and without flavor. Who is willing to believe them and put them into practice? Some receive the authentic transmission but still fall into doubt along the way, leaving the right path and entering deviant ways. The Neizhi tongxuan mijue says: “Such people rely on their cleverness and forcefully divide right from wrong. Even when they hear the essential teachings, they go against them. They abandon the Great Dao and cling to a mistaken path, like peering at the sky through a tube. Their understanding is narrow; how could they be fit to discuss the boundless mysteries of what lies ahead?”

Among the sages, Fuxi is foremost. He first drew the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), taking Heaven and Earth as his model. King Wen of Zhou carried on his way, expanding the trigrams and composing the line statements. Confucius, outstanding among the sages, composed the Ten Wings to explain them. These three sages each arose in response to the time appointed by Heaven, succeeding one another across different ages and acting in their own ways. Their merit and virtue were equal; they differed only in how each creation built upon what came before, and in the stages through which they developed and examined the principles of things.

Fuxi modeled his work on Heaven and Earth and composed the Yi, first drawing the Eight Trigrams. In the diagram of the Earlier Heaven arrangement, Qian represents Heaven and occupies the upper position; Kun represents Earth and occupies the lower one. Li represents the sun and Kan the moon, placed to the east and west. Zhen represents thunder, Xun wind, Gen mountains, and Dui marshes; these occupy the four corners. Surely these arrangements have some basis in what was handed down?

King Wen followed the forms of the hexagrams to expound the Yi, and so wrote the line statements. In the diagram of the Later Heaven arrangement, Zhen and Xun belong to Wood; Wood generates Li Fire, which is then stored and nurtured by Kun Earth. Dui and Qian belong to Metal; Metal generates Kan Water, which is then checked and contained by Gen Earth. These arrangements, too, were handed down from earlier sources.

Confucius carried forward the work of Fuxi and King Wen, expounded the Yi, and wrote the Ten Wings, ten works that explain the Yi Jing. Though Confucius held no imperial throne, he became a teacher to emperors of later generations and stood out among the many sages. These three gentlemen were all great sages of antiquity: Fuxi lived in remote antiquity, King Wen at the end of the Shang dynasty, and Confucius at the end of the Zhou dynasty. They arose in succession and acted in response to their times; their eras and achievements differed. Yet when their merits and virtues are compared, the aims of sages before and after them converge, with none superior or inferior to another.

For example, Fuxi drew the Eight Trigrams, King Wen developed the line statements, and Confucius composed the Ten Wings. Their chapters contain no surplus words, and their sentences no unnecessary characters; they examined principles and weighed matters with great care. All their writings drew on what had been handed down. Wei Boyang, a Daoist of the Eastern Han traditionally regarded as the author of the Cantong qi, also used the hexagram images of the Yi to explain his teachings in this Cantong qi. It may be said that his work, too, drew on an inherited tradition.

Things that have form and traces, and can be made manifest, may be measured and planned for. Things without form or traces, without any sign, are difficult to predict or devise plans for. In carrying out a task, one should leave rules that others can follow, so that later generations have a basis for guidance. That is why this book was written.

I had no foresight of my own. I came to understand only through my master’s guidance. Once I understood, everything before me suddenly opened up, as if a curtain had been lifted and I had climbed to a high terrace with my eyes open. Matters without form or sign, such as the Golden Elixir (Jindan) and the great elixir of golden liquid spoken of in Daoist internal alchemy, cannot be measured or planned for out of thin air. If they are not explained in words, on what basis can later generations learn and follow them? This is why the Cantong qi was written.

Yet was the Cantong qi the creation of Wei Boyang’s own ideas? He merely wrote down what his master had taught him. The Xisheng jing says: “If one studies without guidance from a clear-sighted master, how can one resolve one’s doubts?” Even in the world, one must respectfully seek a master’s instruction to grasp the essentials of a craft, so how much more so with the Golden Elixir and great elixir of golden liquid, the Way of longevity and transcendence. Learners should humble themselves and seek out clear-sighted masters far and wide, hoping to receive true guidance.

Ge Hong’s Shenxian zhuan records that Liu Zheng sought methods of nourishing life and diligently sought out all kinds of unusual teachings, sparing himself no journey, however long. If someone had anything to teach him, even a servant, he would treat that person as a master. If people today could, like Liu Zheng, feel no shame in seeking instruction, a true immortal would surely come to their door and reveal the secrets of the elixir method. Once they received the oral instructions, every doubt would fade, and their minds would suddenly open, as if a curtain had been lifted and they had climbed to a high terrace to gaze into the distance: their view widened, and their minds and eyes grew clear. Is that not a joyful thing?

The six hundred sections spoken of in the Huojì all share the same guiding purpose.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Discussing the meaning of the scriptures and chanting verses and formulas are all ways of explaining the utmost truth. The firing times—the control of heat and timing in the process of refining the elixir—are not set down in writing. To understand the formulas’ access to the mysterious and subtle, one must discuss them carefully with the immortals.”

The six hundred sections spoken of in the Huojì all share the same guiding purpose.

The Wuzhen pian says that the discourses and verses of the scriptures all speak of the most true Dao (the Way), yet do not set out directly in writing the regulation of the firing process—the control of heat and timing in alchemical practice. To understand the subtle meaning conveyed by the oral instructions, one must discuss it carefully with the Immortals. Later students who do not understand the true guidance within them may see the reference to the so-called Six Hundred Chapters on the Firing Process and become bewildered, thinking that the regulation of the fire is intricate and difficult. In fact, the six hundred chapters are like the sixty hexagrams: the sixty hexagrams correspond to the days of a month, while the six hundred chapters correspond to ten months. The sixty hexagrams of a month all express the same teaching, just as the six hundred chapters of ten months repeat a similar teaching. Their meaning, therefore, does not differ.

The scripture solemnly explains that people who do not read it thoroughly, ponder it closely, and seek out its origins will find it hard to understand that the hidden and the manifest are connected from the beginning. In private, I have explained these principles to worthy people; how could I casually set them down in a book? I fear that silence might sever the Great Dao and bring guilt, yet I also fear that writing what is in my heart on bamboo and silk might disclose Heaven’s secrets. So I have hesitated and sighed, turning the matter over again and again. The way of alchemical cultivation has its own rules. I cannot bear to reveal everything, and can only outline its main principles, allowing the details of its order to come into view.

The alchemical books written throughout the ages are numerous enough to fill an ox cart. Their titles are many, and their metaphors endless, showing how seriously their authors regarded the subject. Yet at their root, they concern only two principles, Yin and Yang. The two arise from the same source and differ only in name. The immortals of antiquity devoted all their efforts to explaining these truths to the world, but many people had too little good fortune to give them careful thought.

Wei Boyang, the author of the Cantong qi (The Seal of the Unity of the Three), wrote this book to explain the origins of the vessel, the sources of the substances, and the rules of the firing process. He also clarified key principles such as existence and extinction, being and nonbeing, host and guest, and before and after. Every sentence in the book is lucid, and every word rests on a sound basis. He wrote for people of wisdom; how could he have composed it carelessly just to win an empty reputation?

Know that a book should be passed on to those who can understand it, and a teaching should be valued by people of insight. For example, a farmer who receives a red bow and arrows uses them only to drive away sparrows; a southerner who receives an emperor’s ceremonial robes uses them only to carry firewood. The Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the Daoist path of Neidan and alchemical cultivation—is truly cherished only by the wise. There is little point in speaking at length to those who do not understand it.

The Taishang Xuanke (Profound Precepts of the Most High), a text of Daoist precepts, says: “To meet someone fit to receive a teaching and fail to pass it on is to violate the Way of Heaven. To pass it casually to someone unfit is to divulge Heaven’s treasure. By transmitting it to someone fit, one may accumulate merit; by recklessly transmitting it to someone unfit, one’s ancestors for seven generations will be punished in the underworld.” Wei Boyang therefore once considered keeping silent, fearing that he would incur guilt by letting the lineage of the Way die out. But if he wrote down everything he knew, he feared he would reveal Heaven’s secrets and be condemned. He hesitated and sighed, turning the matter over again and again. He wished to explain the principles plainly and pass them on to those who sought to learn, yet dared not disclose the crucial mysteries lightly. He could not bear to remain silent and pass on nothing, so in the end he outlined the general principles of the substances and the firing process, hoping that later readers would grasp the deeper meaning from the text and that this Way would not be lost.

He dared neither reveal the mysteries too plainly nor conceal everything entirely. So he summarized the book’s main framework, selected its essential points, and set out the rules of cultivation across three sections. As a result, the contents of the chapters spread out in many branches.

By using Metal to block Water’s path, Water can flow freely once it enters. Here, “Metal” is reckoned as fifteen units, and “Water” is likewise reckoned as fifteen. When approaching the alchemical furnace, one must adjust the proportions of Metal and Water: Water should be slightly greater, while Metal must not weigh less than it did originally. Only when the two are combined do they become true Metal, with its weight remaining as before. Earth has no fixed position, yet always moves together with Metal and Water. The three contain one another and merge into a single whole, so their transformations become wondrous and unfathomable.

The commentator explains: “Metal” refers to half a catty at the waxing quarter, and “Water” to half a catty at the waning quarter. Waxing-quarter Metal is arranged in the southeast of the outer furnace, like a semicircular embankment; waning-quarter Water descends from the west and enters the inner furnace in the north. In this way, Water’s current is not constricted, and it can flow freely. The “fifteen units” refer respectively to the Metal from the first through the fifteenth day, and the Water from the sixteenth through the thirtieth. Alchemical methods call for first raising with the civil fire, then lowering with the martial fire. In this account, Metal and Water must rise and descend in coordination for their movement to penetrate deeply.

Half a catty of Metal and half a catty of Water make one catty. Their opening and closing, their ceaseless coming and going, symbolize the changes of Yin and Yang within the body. Water must be slightly more than half a catty, while Metal must remain at half a catty; thus, after Metal and Water are refined together, the true Metal retains its original weight. Around the vessel there are only waxing-quarter Metal and waning-quarter Water, so Earth may seem to have no fixed position. The phrase “Earth does not enter” does not mean that Earth takes no part; rather, Earth has no fixed place and is therefore everywhere. Although the cosmos has twenty-four directions, there are no separately designated positions for Wu and Ji, yet the Qi of Wu and Ji circulates through directions such as Renzi and Qianhai, moving throughout them all.

“Both accompany it” means that Earth is spread throughout the space between the vessels, and Metal and Water travel together with Earth. Metal, Water, and Earth contain one another and blend into one, making their transformations seem wondrous. The commentator also says that rising and descending are called the “movement of Metal and Water,” while Xun (one of the Eight Trigrams, here referring to a direction or Qi associated with movement) is called the “true wind”: Metal is what rises, Water is what descends, and Earth is what enables them to move up and down.

Ultimately, however, Metal, Water, and Earth are only symbols and metaphors. At its root, the Great Dao transcends names and forms, and the way of the true immortals is not a matter of literal flowers, grasses, or trees. If so, where could there truly be Metal, Water, or Earth?

Beneath, the Sun’s true Qi lies hidden and rises in vapor. In a short time, it first turns into liquid, then coagulates into form. This is called the “Yellow Carriage,” because the elixir’s Qi moves like a carriage.

The Book of Jade Fungus says that, in refining the elixir, one should set the firing process in motion at the Zi hour—the middle of the night, when Yang Qi first arises—because the fire is then at its strongest. If the fire is started at another hour, its strength will differ. At the Zi hour, the Sun’s Qi is in the north; within the human body, this corresponds to Qi reaching the Weilü, at the base of the spine and the beginning of the Governor Vessel. Setting the firing process in motion at this time aligns the inner movement of Qi with the timing of Heaven and makes it possible to refine the elixir by taking advantage of the changes in Heaven and Earth.

At first, the Sun’s Qi is below. Water and fire join, and their two currents of Qi spread and rise in vapor, turning into liquid. Then fire stirs within the water, Yang Qi gradually grows stronger, and the liquid coagulates within it, bringing forth the “Golden Flower,” the essence that appears in Neidan cultivation. This is called “true lead,” an alchemical term for the essential Qi produced through refinement. As the firing process unfolds, true lead rises and surges upward, moving like a carriage along the ecliptic—the region of the sky through which the Sun appears to travel over the course of a year. Hence the name “Yellow Carriage.”

When the year is drawing to a close, continuing to expend one’s mental and physical strength indiscriminately will harm one’s original nature and shorten one’s life.

On the thirtieth day of the twelfth month, the year’s celestial cycle is about to end: the Sun has reached the end of its circuit, and the Moon has completed its cycle. In terms of the alchemical Way, the human body also has its own cycle of circulation, no different from the movements of Heaven and Earth.

The body turns to ash and earth, like dust drifting before a bright window.

An ancient song says, “What is needed is the sprout, not the lead; the sprout must be drawn from the lead. When it is time to use true lead, using the lead itself is still a mistake.” It also says, “Lead is the mother of the sprout; the sprout is the child of lead.” Once the “Golden Flower” (the essence revealed in the alchemical process) has appeared, one should set lead aside and use it no longer. The meaning of this is indeed profound.

People know only that, around midnight, Kidney Qi arises and, after being refined through the firing process, condenses into liquid. They take this to be true lead and hope to use it to transform true mercury in the Li Palace (the place in the heart associated with Fire). But they do not realize that once Qi has condensed into liquid, it has form and substance and is heavy and turbid. How could it flow upward against its nature? In the immortals’ alchemy, at this point one merely initiates the firing process below and responds to that Qi. When the fire grows strong, the Qi surges upward, like clouds rising among mountains and rivers. Once it enters the Mud Pill (the upper Dantian within the head), it transforms into sweet rain and flows into the layered tower (the throat). Alchemists have never used the tangible liquid itself. The alchemical teaching to “take the clear and discard the turbid” refers precisely to this: clear Qi is light and floats above, like dust drifting before a bright window; the turbid matter sinks below, taking shape like ash and earth.

Those who practice Waidan take the substance that rises and condenses on the lid of the crucible, calling it “dust before the bright window.” Wei Boyang used this phenomenon to explain the principles of Neidan, hoping that students would reason from it and draw further conclusions.

After pounding, refining, and blending, it rushes into the red gate.

First pound and refine the ingredients, then blend them together and gather the essences from both places into one furnace. The “spirit water” condenses into a true, creamy Elixir substance. It quickly enters the red gate, seizing the essence and marrow of the Rabbit and Crow; it must be gathered swiftly into the cauldron for firing.

The great Golden Elixir medicine comes into being in the Kun position, with Qian as its seed. Qian is above and serves as the cauldron; Kun is below and serves as the furnace. Without vigorous cooking and intense firing, the medicine cannot be refined out of the furnace. Without reversing the movement of Qi and turning it upward, the medicine cannot rise into the cauldron. The Wuzhen pian says, “Seize them with both hands and make them fight to the death; they transform into a single mass of purple-gold frost.” It also says, “The River Cart must not pause for even a moment; carry it up to the summit of Kunlun.” These passages describe the practical methods used in postcelestial cultivation, which differ from the conditions under which the precelestial medicine comes into being.

Two further methods, “contemplating the mind” and “drawing in the spirit,” can both assist in regulating the firing. The ancient perfected immortals usually kept these methods secret, so few people knew of them. Some cling to the idea of “beginning the work” and do nothing but massage, guide and stretch, and move Qi around like turning a windlass. They waste their spirit and strength, unaware that the subtle art lies in using the spirit fire to illuminate the true mind and stirring the Xun wind to draw in the true spirit.

Seal the furnace and cauldron tightly, making sure they are sound and solid.

The Jindan Dacheng ji says, “Once you know the right moment, begin gathering the medicine. After gathering it, seal the spirit chamber; do not allow it to leak out carelessly.” It also says, “Carry it up above the crown of the head, where the Three Flowers form; firmly close the Jade Pass and Golden Lock.” This is because when the golden sand rises into the cauldron, it must be sealed tightly. Only then can the holy embryo become complete and firm.

The fire beneath the furnace blazes, and the force of the Dragon and Tiger joining is fierce.

The Zhixuan sanshijiu zhang says, “Simply slip into the Flower Pond cauldron, and the true fire will surge to the heavens, fiercely refining everything.” The Jianwu ji says, “Because…”