《周易参同契发挥》Vol. 3

If one tries to dispel illusions using deluded thoughts, the cognitive spirit (shishen, acquired mental activity) remains, and continues to conjure up all kinds of forms, such as the faces of spirits and monsters, disturbing the mind. As long as the mind’s ruler does not waver, one can see these things as though one had not seen them. When body and mind merge with the emptiness of space, with nowhere to grasp or locate them, the illusions will naturally vanish.

Guan Yin Zi said that unusual sights suddenly seen in daily life are caused by Jing and Qi condensing. When such sights appear suddenly during illness, they arise from inner depletion, worry, and fear. Once one understands that the mind can make things appear from nothing, one also understands that it can make things before one’s eyes seem as though they were nothing. If one does not believe in these illusions, they will not seem supernatural. Someone asked, “When consciousness is already confused, who can keep from believing?” I replied, “Think of a snake catcher, whose mind is unafraid of snakes. Even if he dreams of snakes, he will not be frightened.” Thus the Yellow Emperor said, “The Dao has no ghosts or spirits; it moves to and fro alone.” These words show that Wei Boyang’s teaching, “Keep the mind focused and do not let it roam freely,” is indeed an essential principle of cultivation.

During sleep, Shen and the body embrace and keep watch over one another. After waking, observe how they remain or change.

Essence emerges at its appointed time. When the time comes, awareness will know naturally. Even across the hundred ke of a day and night, one must not grow drowsy or lose one’s way. During cultivation, whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, keep the mind and spirit continuously alert, like a hen brooding over her eggs, with warmth never ceasing. This is what can truly be called cultivation.

When genuine practice has accumulated day by day and gradually become accomplished, day and night are no longer different, and sleeping and waking are no longer clearly distinct. Even in sleep, awareness does not grow clouded. When Jing and Qi emerge, awareness seems to commune with Heaven; no one needs to wake the practitioner, who perceives it naturally. Xia Yunfeng’s words, “When the natural moment arrives, even in a dream you will be made to know,” describe just this.

Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi, says: “In sleep, spirit and Qi embrace one another; upon awakening, observe whether the timing remains or has passed.” This means that even while asleep, spirit and Qi must remain together; upon waking, one should check whether the cultivation’s firing times are still on track. Those who cultivate the Golden Elixir must remain alert at all times. The great medicine of the Golden Elixir forms through the union and coagulation of spirit and Qi. It takes shape from the formless and forms the sacred embryo—the inner embryo formed through Golden Elixir cultivation—which must be guarded diligently, like a young woman in the early stages of pregnancy or a young dragon just beginning to nurture its pearl. When spirit and Qi first coalesce, they can easily disperse. So even during sleep, they must remain together, without sinking into drowsiness or dreams. Upon waking, one should attend to whether the firing times have weakened and whether progress in Elixir practice has slowed, and keep watch over its continuance. Throughout all twelve two-hour periods of the day, day and night, one must remain mindful and maintain this practice. Only then can the work become pure, the ingredients avoid being depleted, and the firing times continue without interruption. How could this watchfulness be abandoned even for a moment?

The complexion gradually becomes lustrous, and the joints grow stronger and firmer.

This means that when the most precious treasure is stored within the body, its essence naturally shines forth. Just as vegetation appears lush when jade is hidden in a mountain, and the cliffs do not grow barren when pearls are nurtured in the depths.

Only after all Yin influences have been cleared away can pure Yang Qi be established.

The Wuzhen pian says: “When every Yin has been stripped away, the Elixir is mature; one leaps free of the cage and lives for ten thousand years.” Everything with form throughout the human body, from head to toe, belongs to Yin influences and turbid dregs. The methods of immortal cultivation bring forth form from the formless, seize a trace of true Yang from between Heaven and Earth, and condense it into an Elixir. The firing times are then cycled day and night to refine away Yin Qi. After ten months, the embryo is fully formed; after a further three years, the work is complete. Thereafter, the body becomes pure Yang, its form transforms, and at last one attains immortality.

Cultivation must continue without interruption. The breath moves like clouds and rain, flowing on and on, like spring rain nourishing all things. It is also like water released from thawing ice, flowing down from the head to the soles of the feet, then rising again. The movement of Qi travels up and down in an unceasing cycle. After three years of cultivation, the practice can come to fruition. Thereafter, the body becomes pure Yang and its form changes in turn, until one ultimately attains immortality.

The Dong Wuji says: “Cultivate the Great Elixir day and night without pause; its essence reaches the crown of the head, and the hundred spirits gather there.” Spend a year in seclusion with the doors closed, cultivating day and night without interruption, and signs of efficacy will naturally appear. Harmonious, flowing Qi permeates the whole body, warm and gentle like mountain clouds rising into the open sky, and fine and dense like oily rain spreading across the fields. It continues like spring waters filling lakes and marshes in every direction, and is also like river ice on the verge of melting. The movement of Qi travels up and down; the hundred channels become open and gentle. Qi fills the body and limbs, and the heart is suffused with springtime. The whole person feels as if mildly intoxicated.

The Ruyao Jing says: “Pre-Heaven Qi, post-Heaven Qi; those who obtain it are always as if intoxicated.” The Lingguang Ji says that when Qi circulates back and forth, one feels mildly intoxicated, free from both worry and joy, with the heart remaining pure and unspoiled. These are all signs of efficacy that appear in Elixir cultivation.

Ding Lingyang’s Huiguang Ji says that if one can keep thoughts from arising, then the Yin essence in the Qi Sea of the Dantian—the Yin-natured vital energy described in internal cultivation—will naturally rise and circulate. It passes through the Tail Gate, the aperture at the lower end of the spine, and travels upward through the two passes along the spine, passing Fengfu and Niwan before returning to Ming Tang, the region around the forehead. It then follows the bridge of the nose into the Jade Pool, where saliva is produced in the mouth, and transforms into sweet fluid. After being swallowed past the throat, it nourishes the five viscera and six bowels, and finally returns to the Dantian. In this way it flows up and down, filling the whole body, circulating again and again and reaching everywhere. If one cultivates in the morning but stops by evening, and the mind is not single-minded, how could one make any progress?

“Reversal” is the sign by which the Dao manifests its function; “weakness” is the foundation on which De rests.

“Returning” means cycling back again and again. The Dao De Jing says, “Reach the utmost in emptiness and stillness, and remain steadfast in quietude.” All things grow together; from this, I observe how they return to their root. For the practice of alchemy to bear fruit, one must also reach the utmost in emptiness and stillness and attune oneself to Heaven and Earth. Only then will Original Qi return with the first stirring of Yang. If emptiness and stillness do not reach their utmost, and one’s practice is not firm enough, it is like building a mountain and falling short by a single basket of earth. How, then, could one expect to succeed?

“Weakness” means softness and pliancy. The Dao De Jing says, “Can you concentrate your Qi and soften your body, becoming like an infant?” The foundation of alchemical practice lies in keeping one’s resolve and not recklessly dissipating one’s breath. One must become as soft and pliant as an infant. If one does not hold fast to one’s resolve or nurture one’s breath, what little one gains is outweighed by what one loses. How could that be considered the foundation of practice?

Removing minute traces of old impurities to clear and harmonize the Qi throughout the body

Once distracting thoughts and disturbances have been cleared away, every part of the body is brought into balance. By preventing the breath from scattering, one can keep the Dao-Qi present at all times. This is like a farmer clearing weeds: the weeds are cut down and their roots gathered up, with the roots removed completely so they cannot grow again and beneficial plants can flourish. In alchemical practice, one must likewise remove accumulated impurities, drive out “ghost corpses” (internal impediments that obstruct purity of body and mind in Daoist cultivation), and settle the Six Roots (the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—the faculties of perception and thought), so that the Five Aggregates (the five elements that make up embodied and mental experience) return to emptiness and stillness. By maintaining purity, clarity, emptiness, and brightness in right mindfulness, one can cool the Five Organs and harmonize the Six Bowels. The three hundred and sixty joints will be free of obstruction, and all eighty-four thousand pores and apertures will be open and clear.

Turbidity is the way toward clarity; prolonged obscurity gives way to illumination

The Cui Xu Pian says, “When spirit and essence merge in darkness and the breath gathers back, bones and flesh blend together, and one is unaware of it.” In this state, the Qi of the Three Dantian (upper, middle, and lower energy centers) is full. One feels as if sunk in a dream; is this not a state of drowsy turbidity? Those who reach this stage in their practice must not grow complacent. They should understand that prolonged obscurity will eventually become bright, and prolonged turbidity will eventually clear. When the time is ripe and the Qi begins to change, there will be “messages from the Nine Heavens” (signs symbolizing tidings from the celestial realm), and the embryo-like Elixir Body will unfold. The spirit-water will be clear, and the Flower Pool (an inner image for nourishing bodily fluids) will be still and pure white. Snowflakes will drift down, while towers of the Seven Treasures and the twelve-story tower appear in the four directions, and the yellow flowers become deeply visible. These visions emerge one by one amid a state of indistinctness. How could one remain forever in turbidity and obscurity?

People in the world enjoy pursuing all kinds of minor techniques, yet fail to understand that the Dao (the Way) has shallow and profound levels. They abandon the proper path and take the crooked one, eager for quick results, only to meet obstacles instead—like a blind person who does not know how to use a cane. Some want to catch pheasants and rabbits in the water, then climb a mountain to look for fish and dragons. They plant wheat but expect to harvest millet, or use a compass to draw a square. Such efforts only exhaust the mind and wear down the spirit; they bring no results, even after a whole year.

The Great Way of the Golden Elixir (a path of cultivation aimed at refining and nurturing essence and Qi to achieve Neidan [internal alchemy]) depends on the long-term accumulation of essence and Qi. It can never be accomplished in a single leap. Forming the embryo, establishing the foundation, and entering the chamber for refinement and cultivation each have their own stages and order. One cannot expect to meet a teacher today and become an immortal tomorrow. Sadly, many seekers of the Dao put their trust in hearsay. They cannot distinguish between profound and shallow methods, or between upright and crooked teachers. They pursue quick results single-mindedly and care only to learn minor techniques. Some know one side of a matter but not the other; some understand the essentials of cultivation but not their practical application. Confined by their own biases, they think themselves content. They even invent heretical teachings, slander the proper path, and twist the classics to win over beginners, passing falsehood from one person to another and deepening their confusion.

Some who consider themselves clever refuse to humble themselves and seek teachers far and wide. Instead, they pore over old books in the hope of gaining insight, like blind people who do not know to rely on a cane. The ignorant, unable to grasp the principles, use their imagination to force interpretations of alchemical texts, like deaf people trying to distinguish musical tones such as gong and shang. To take the navel as the Mysterious Pass (a key aperture in Neidan cultivation) is like going into the water to catch pheasants and rabbits; to take the two eyes as the Flower Pool (a Neidan term for an important site in cultivation) is like climbing a mountain to look for fish and dragons. Others practice techniques of sexual energy exchange, deluding themselves that these will bring long life; still others cling to emptiness and quiescence, hoping thereby to escape death. These are all like planting wheat while expecting millet, or using a compass to seek a square. All such pursuits are deluded and misguided, wasting effort until old age arrives with nothing achieved. How regrettable.

If you wish to know the method of ingesting and consuming, its essentials are in fact simple and concise, not complicated.

The Zhixuan says: “What becomes clear within is the genuine thing; what enters from outside is not close to the source.” This means that the elixir is within oneself and need not be sought externally. Yet Wei Boyang speaks of taking it by ingestion. Does he mean that the elixir comes from outside and is then swallowed? Not at all. The elixir is born within Kan—a term in Neidan for the bodily region associated with water and the kidneys. After being refined by the proper control of the fire, it emerges and passes through the three palaces, the three important sites in Neidan cultivation. It then descends and enters the mouth, which is why this is called “taking the elixir.”

To say that the path of cultivation is “utterly simple and easy” means that its instructions are exceptionally concise and straightforward. If so, there would have been no need to write the Cantong qi. Why, then, does it go on at such length, repeating its arguments again and again? I have also seen the Wuzhen pian say that the method of the Great Elixir is utterly simple and easy: even a dull and ignorant person who follows its instructions can quickly rise beyond the ordinary and attain sagehood. Yet it also says that anyone refining the Golden Elixir must thoroughly understand Yin-Yang and deeply grasp the principles of transformation and creation. Why is this?

There is a reason. Dull people have simple minds, are not given to suspicion, and readily believe and act on what they are told. When they encounter a method, they put it directly into practice; even without a detailed explanation, they can cultivate it. Clever people are different. They have broad knowledge and many doubts, and if even one thing remains unclear, they insist on tracing it to its roots. Unless they fully understand the changes of Yin-Yang and the source of creation, they may begin to doubt partway through their cultivation. If they are unsettled by teachings that resemble the Dao but belong to side paths, they may be like the man in the story of the loom: hearing a rumor, he stops weaving and comes to believe that the true path is false. That is why the principles must be made clear. Given this, how could Wei Boyang have written this book without earnestly explaining and reiterating them?

The Sun’s Flowing Pearl—a Neidan term for the elixir substance formed by the gathering of Yang Qi—always seeks to leave the body. In the end, it obtains Golden Flower; the two transform one another and act in turn, becoming a white liquid. Once congealed, it becomes exceedingly hard.

“Solar Flowing Pearl” refers to numinous mercury. The Song of the Great Dao of the Numinous Source says that this substance originally has no fixed place and changes with the moment and the mind’s intent: when the body feels hot, it becomes sweat; when the nose is irritated by the wind, it becomes mucus; when there is a response in the kidneys, it becomes Jing (essence); when sorrow stirs a feeling in the eyes, it becomes tears. This shows that it is constantly inclined to flow out of the body. “Golden Florescence” refers to true lead. Once numinous mercury obtains true lead, it turns to depend on it. It no longer scatters in all directions, but remains within the body, transforms into golden liquid, and congeals into a solid substance.

True lead first stirs into motion, then in a moment transforms into water. It crisscrosses like horse teeth, and Yang Qi then arrives in response, so that feeling and nature naturally unite.

True lead is born in the Kan position, which symbolizes water and the kidneys. It first appears as a liquid and then congeals into Yellow Sprout, an important symbol in Neidan cultivation. This is why it is compared to “horse teeth interlacing.” The Cuilu Chapter says, “The cinnabar’s source is simply precelestial Qi; refine it into Yellow Sprout, and jade blossoms emerge.” This is precisely what it describes. Lead is the ruler and mercury the subject: lead moves first, and mercury responds, just as a ruler issues a command and a subject answers. Lead belongs to Metal and mercury to Wood. Wood is drawn to Metal, and Metal is attached to Wood; as Yin and Yang are of the same kind, they naturally respond to and unite with each other.

“Urge the Yin moment” means that when the moment arrives, as Yin Qi is about to run out, one must gather and refine in time. “Confine and store it within the gate” means that after gathering the substances, one returns them to the furnace for refinement. The Returning to the Source Chapter says, “Only harmonize with Heaven’s timing; who knows the place where the Elixir congeals?” To “harmonize with Heaven’s timing” is to grasp the moment when Yin Qi is about to run out and Yang Qi is just beginning to arise. The “place where the Elixir congeals” is where the substances are gathered and refined.

According to this teaching, one should seize the moment to advance the fire—the control of firing times in Neidan cultivation—when Yin Qi is about to run out and Yang Qi has just begun to stir. One must not act too early or too late; this is called “urging the Yin moment.” As the fire advances, the hundred meridians return to their source and pass through the body’s apertures. The ruler’s fire, minister’s fire, and people’s fire—terms for different levels of firing in Neidan practice—are all gathered in the Yellow Palace, the central place of cultivation, and refined into a treasure. This is called “confining and storing it within the gate.” The Mirror of Compounding the Medicine says that the numinous transformations by which Heaven and Earth bring things into being are not easily obtained. If one fails to seize the moment and gather and refine them in time, how could one obtain their hidden mystery?

A compassionate mother bears and raises her child; when the dutiful child grows up, he repays her kindness. Their relationship continues in this way. True Lead is refined in the Yellow Palace—an inner alchemical term for the place of cultivation associated with the Kun position or Earth of the Spleen—and becomes a supreme treasure. This is called “confining, storing, and sealing the gate”: gathering in the medicine, enclosing it in the furnace and cauldron, and refining it there. The Mirror for Compounding the Medicine says, “The numinous transformations between Heaven and Earth lie hidden, beyond view. If, while the moment is urgent, you do not use the Yin method to bind, store, and seal the medicine, how can you steal the key to creation?”

A compassionate mother raises a dutiful child, who in turn repays her kindness: they sustain one another. This is also like swallowing and chewing the medicine, so that its components devour and unite with one another. The stern father, by contrast, issues commands, teaching and urging his descendants onward.

When True Lead forms, it is nurtured in the womb of the Kun Mother, the feminine source symbolized by the Kun position, like a compassionate mother raising her child. Once it ascends to the Qian Palace, the palace of the Yang position, it captures True Mercury and joins with it, congealing into the Elixir. It then returns to the womb of the Kun Mother. This is like a dutiful child repaying his mother’s kindness, or a crow that, once grown, feeds its mother in turn. Yet without fierce cooking over blazing fire and repeated firing, True Lead cannot ascend. This is like a stern father teaching and urging his descendants onward. The Book of the Jade Zhi says, “Lead cannot ascend without fire; Mercury cannot congeal without Lead.” The subtle workings involved are of the utmost delicacy and must not be taken lightly.

The Five Phases move in crisscrossing patterns, each relying on the others to bring forth life. Fire’s nature consumes Metal; Metal restrains Wood, allowing Wood to flourish.

In the usual sequence of generation among the Five Phases, Metal generates Water and Wood generates Fire. Here, in the practice of Neidan, Wood and Fire become partners, so that Fire instead generates Wood; Metal and Water unite, so that Water instead generates Metal. Hence the saying that the Five Phases move in crisscrossing patterns, each relying on the others to bring forth life. “Fire consumes Metal” means using the fire of the southern Li Palace to refine the Metal within northern Water. “Metal fells Wood, allowing it to flourish” means using the Metal within northern Water to restrain the Wood within southern Fire, thereby allowing Wood to flourish.

Three and Five unite as one: this is the most subtle essence between Heaven and Earth. It can be transmitted through oral instructions, but is difficult to set down in writing.

“Three” refers to Water as one and Fire as two; together they make three. “Five” refers to Earth. “Three and Five become one” means that Water, Fire, and Earth merge into a single Qi. At this point, Dark and Yellow are mixed together, and clear and turbid have not yet separated, like Heaven and Earth at their beginning, before the primordial chaos had divided. Before long, the moment ripens and Qi begins to transform and move. From nothing, something comes into being: within the dark and profound state, a hazy Qi arises, and this hazy Qi gathers into a mass. The most subtle essence between Heaven and Earth is nurtured within it. Qu Tushenhe said, “Whoever understands how Three and Five unite as one can become an Earth-Walking Immortal.” Its wonders must be transmitted mind to mind, from teacher to disciple; they cannot be fully expressed in writing.

The Zi position lies in the north, and the Wu position in the south. The Zi position should turn to the right, moving from the west to the Zi position. This symbolizes the Tiger—the image of Kan Water—arising within Water. The Wu position turns to the left, moving from the east to the Wu position. This symbolizes the Dragon—the image of Li Fire—emerging from Fire. Zi and Wu represent north and south, or Water and Fire; Mao and You represent east and west, or Metal and Wood. When rightward turning and leftward rotation, submergence and ascent work together, Water and Fire can unite, and Metal and Wood are no longer separated.

The Treatise on Returning to the Origin says: “The Jade Rabbit and Golden Rooster revolve in their cycles. The principle lies within the human body, yet people often lose sight of it. Everyone knows how to harmonize Water and Fire, but in the end, how many understand east and west?” Here, east and west, Mao and You, are all other names for Metal and Wood. They do not refer to the directions of heaven and earth, nor to the left and right sides of the body. Yet one cannot leave oneself and seek these principles elsewhere. Alas, many people in the world today are impostors: they put on cloth robes and call themselves cultivators of the Dao. Ask them what Metal and Wood are, and they fall silent like the mute. Without a true teacher’s guidance, one can never understand through guesswork alone.

The Dragon breathes toward the Tiger, and the Tiger draws in the Dragon’s essence. They swallow and receive one another, joining together. The Dragon is the Dragon of the southern Li trigram; the Tiger is the Tiger of the northern Kan trigram. In alchemical cultivation, the Dragon is made to descend and breathe toward the Tiger, which then takes in the Dragon’s essence. With each exhalation and inhalation, they mingle and ultimately become one. Chapter Thirty-Nine of the Finger of the Mystery says: “If you can grasp how they swallow and receive one another, returning to a single place, you can become an immortal in an instant, without effort.” This method is called wondrous and supremely simple; yet those who study the Dao often do not know what the Dragon and Tiger refer to.

Yinghuo (Mars) lingers in the west, while Taibai (Venus) crosses the sky. Wherever the force of destruction reaches, what can avoid collapse?

When Mars remains in the west, it symbolizes Fire entering Metal’s position. When Venus crosses the sky and appears in the southern Wu position, it symbolizes Metal passing through Fire’s southern position. In alchemical practice, the spirit-fire is directed into Metal’s position. Pressed by the Fire, Metal then rises and appears in the south. The Treatise on Returning Metal says, “It sinks to the bottom of the sea and departs, then from there brings forth the sun.” This describes just such a process. Here, “Metal” refers to true Lead. Wherever the force of Fire reaches, what could fail to be stirred? True Lead rises and captures true Mercury; true Mercury then appears of its own accord and casts itself toward true Lead. The Song of the Great Dao by Master Yuanyang says, “Once the White Tiger meets it, how could the Flowing Pearl refuse to follow?” This means the same thing.

A cat watches a mouse, and sparrows fear the hawk. Each is governed by its nature; how could either dare make a sound?

When Shen enters Qi, an embryo forms, just as a cat watches a mouse. When the medicine receives the power of Fire, it is refined into an elixir, just as sparrows fear the hawk. Things restrain one another in this way: once they meet, one naturally subdues the other, so it dares not make a sound.

If you do not understand the principle, you cannot speak carelessly about it. Some people have spent their entire family fortunes, leaving their wives and children hungry and poor. Since ancient times, countless millions have taken an interest in alchemy, yet very few have encountered the true Way and truly succeeded. The Treatise on Returning Metal says, “Without understanding the foundations of Yin-Yang, all your efforts are wasted.” There is even less reason, then, to speak recklessly about its mysteries. If you do not understand the principle, how can you make things up and speak at random? From ancient times to the present, many people have pursued alchemy, sought rare and costly ingredients, and associated with wandering charlatans. They have squandered their family fortunes, driven brothers, wives, and children apart, and sometimes failed to succeed even after a lifetime of effort. Why are those who accomplish the work so rare in all the world? Because they took the wrong path from the outset, going against the Dao; they never met an enlightened teacher or truly grasped the principle.

If you are fortunate enough to meet an enlightened teacher and see the first signs with your own eyes, you can follow the changes of similar things from beginning to end and investigate their course.

The methods of cultivating minor heterodox arts are numerous and difficult. They are easy to encounter but hard to master. The Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the orthodox method of Daoist Neidan cultivation—is simple and easy in its methods. It is hard to encounter, but once obtained, it is easy to master. If you are truly fortunate enough to encounter it and glimpse its first signs, you can draw comparisons from similar things and investigate the patterns by which things unfold from beginning to end. Seen this way, everything between Heaven and Earth—whether it has form and feeling or lacks them, whether great or small, high or low—embodies the Dao everywhere. By following one thing to another, you can extend this understanding and make further deductions.

For example, the crane cries in the middle of the night, and the rooster announces dawn at the fifth watch; both respond to the Qi of Heaven and Earth. Other examples include the cold cicada drawing in wind, the rhinoceros gazing at the moon, the old clam holding a pearl, jade hidden in a stubborn stone, a butterfly opening and closing its wings, a firefly brightening and dimming, a cat’s pupils contracting and widening, a deer’s tail swinging in reverse, a tortoise’s breathing, a turtle’s reflection, a bellows blowing air, water drops drawing in water, a lodestone attracting a needle, amber lifting mustard seeds, a shaduf and a well sweep drawing water, sweet flag and rice blossoms gathering dew, snakes lying dormant through winter, fish living in water, dung beetles rolling balls of dung, potter wasps raising their larvae, hens brooding eggs, rabbits carrying young, yellow gallstones in cattle, pearls in dragons, kernels growing from plum pits, and sweet melons slipping from their stems. So too are the vitality between the banana plant and the spring wind, the mystery between the parasol tree and autumn rain, the moon reflected in a deep green pool, and dusk clouds shrouding green mountains. All these phenomena are symbols and principles of Golden Elixir cultivation.

Zhang Ziyang (the Daoist Zhang Boduan of the Northern Song dynasty, whose courtesy name was Ziyang) said that anyone who cultivates the Golden Elixir must thoroughly understand Yin-Yang and deeply grasp the transformations of creation. This is indeed so.

The Five Phases restrain one another, yet through this they also give rise to relationships of generation and nourishment, like those between parents: the mother contains nourishing fluids, while the father gives and transmits.

The essential principles of the Elixir Method lie above all in the Five Phases. The mysteries of the Five Phases, in turn, cannot be separated from Kan and Li, which respectively symbolize Water and Fire. Kan belongs to Water, within which Metal is concealed. Li belongs to Fire and is paired with Water, within which Wood is concealed. These are the Four Images. Add the Earth of Wu contained in Kan and the Earth of Ji contained in Li, and the Five Phases are complete.

The Wuzhen pian says: “The dragon of Zhen, Mercury, emerges from the region of Li; the tiger of Dui, Lead, is born in the quarter of Kan. The two substances arise because the child is born from the mother; the Metal of the Five Phases must enter the center.” It also says: “If Kan and Li lack Wu and Ji, then though they contain the Four Images, no Elixir can form. Because each holds true Earth within, the Golden Elixir can return.” These passages make the point quite clear.

The Elixir Method uses Fire to refine Metal, and Metal to overcome Wood. When Fire grows too strong, Water is used to bring it into balance; when Water grows too abundant, Earth is used to restrain it. This is called the Five Phases overcoming one another. Metal generates Water: Water is Metal’s child, yet Metal can also arise within Water. Wood generates Fire: Fire is Wood’s child, yet Wood can also arise within Fire. This is called the mutual transformation of the Five Phases, which cycle as parents and children. The father is like Heaven, the mother like Earth. Heaven’s Qi descends to Earth, and only when Earth receives it can it give birth to the myriad things. Hence the saying, “The mother holds nourishing fluids; the father governs their endowment.”

The Chilong dadan jue says: “The mystery lies in Heaven joining with Earth; its power is to return and restore.” The Cuixu pian says: “The father’s essence and the mother’s blood unite to form an embryo; its form still resembles another’s, yet is like my own. Recognize the true father and mother within your body, and only then can you grasp the essence of the Five Phases.” If practitioners can unite the Heaven within themselves with the Earth within themselves, gather the Five Phases inward, and let them breathe into and out of one another, blend, and join, they will feel that something has arisen from nothing, as if an embryo were being carried. In the end, a sacred embryo will form—the inner result of Neidan cultivation, in which Jing, Qi, and Shen coalesce.

When the essence of the Five Phases gathers between Heaven and Earth, it can form gold or stone, which remain undecayed for thousands of years. If people can turn their gaze inward, seek the essence of the Five Phases within themselves, and gather it into a treasure, they too can endure as long as Heaven and Earth. What, then, is there to prize in gold and stone?

Only through cautious concentration, without allowing Jing and Qi to scatter, can the true Way be accomplished.

A person who is single-minded turns away from worldly affairs and devotes the whole heart to cultivation, keeping it constantly in mind and remaining focused without distraction. “Not leaking” means staying calm and concentrated throughout the day, like a hen sitting on her eggs. Whenever thoughts wander outward, gather them back, so that the spirit remains within the body and mind. With steady practice, the skill becomes refined; the ingredients of the elixir, such as Jing and Qi, are not depleted, and the firing process is not interrupted. In this way, the Dao can be cultivated to completion.

The ignorant are misled by inferior techniques. They think that “not leaking” means pressing the tailbone—the end of the spine—shutting down sexual desire, and engaging with an external partner without ejaculation. They do not understand that even if semen is not lost, the spirit and original Qi have already been dissipated. What remains is harmful stagnation, accumulating around the lower back and giving rise to strange illnesses. How confused they are! The Sutra of the Heroic March (Shurangama Sutra) says that practicing meditation without ending sexual desire is like steaming sand and stones in the hope of making rice: even after a hundred thousand eons, all one has is hot sand. How much more cautious, then, should one be in pursuing the great Dao of the Golden Elixir, which requires dual cultivation of nature and life. The Cui Xu Pian says that if one wishes to prolong life and restore youth, then cuts off sexual desire and practices a heterodox method, one should know that the body can remain intact and endure in the world only by using the firing process to refine a divine elixir. Those who study the Dao should consider this carefully.

Raise a pole, and a shadow appears; call into a valley, and an echo answers. Is this not a reliable response? These are the clearest signs of resonance between Heaven and Earth. A pole raised brings forth a shadow; a call into a valley brings forth a sound. This shows that whenever something calls or acts, there is always a response. The sun and moon hang in the sky; take fire, and fire can be drawn forth; take water, and water can be drawn forth. The response is so swift—how wondrous! Yet though everyone in the world sees these phenomena, not everyone understands the principle behind them.

The Cui Xu Pian says that the Sun Crow and Moon Hare—the sun and the moon—are both round and full, and their source lies in the precelestial realm, but the method of gathering them is difficult. One must gather and refine them on the night when the moon faces the sun, so that one’s own sun and moon meet at the center, joining the souls of Heaven and Earth to form a numinous elixir. If those who study the Dao can grasp the transformations of Heaven and Earth, then on the night when the moon faces the sun they can bring the Yin and Yang within themselves into union. Inner cultivation will then accord with outer resonance, and the elixir will form naturally. After that, it must be refined and nourished through the firing process.

If someone swallows an inch of wild kudzu vine and an ounce of croton, they will immediately collapse, unable to bend forward or raise their head. At that point, even if King Wen of Zhou performed divination with yarrow stalks, Confucius interpreted the signs, Bian Que applied acupuncture, and Wu Xian beat his drum, nothing could save them.

An inch of wild kudzu root and an ounce of croton seeds, once swallowed, will make a person collapse rigid at once, unable even to bend forward or lift their head. At such a time, even if King Wen of Zhou cast divinations for them, Confucius interpreted the hexagrams, Bian Que needled them, and Wu Xian beat drums and performed rites, none could revive them or restore their movement.

Wild kudzu root and croton seeds are both highly poisonous herbs. Take an inch of the former or an ounce of the latter, and a person will collapse rigid at once. Even if King Wen of Zhou, Confucius, Bian Que, and Wu Xian all displayed their skills, they could not revive them. Yet people today believe that poison can bring swift death when swallowed, but refuse to believe that a miraculous elixir can grant long life. This shows a striking failure of reason.

The Maiden of the Riverbank—a term from alchemy for true Mercury—is subtle and wondrous. When it meets fire, it scatters and flies away. It leaves no trace of dust and is hard to track, as though a ghost had vanished or a dragon hidden itself. To bring it under control, one must take Yellow Sprout—a term for true Lead—as the foundation.

True Mercury comes from the Li trigram. Li is Yin and is symbolized by a woman; its corresponding direction is noon. In the system of regional divisions, noon corresponds to the Three Rivers region, which is why it is called the “Maiden of the Riverbank.” Tracing its source, it is obtained by quieting the mind and gathering the spirit; in fact, it arises from within the heart. It is therefore also called “numinous Mercury” or “spirit Mercury.” Its nature is fierce: when it meets fire, it scatters and vanishes without a trace, like a ghost disappearing or a dragon hiding, and is hard to find. Without Yellow Sprout—that is, true Lead—there is no way to restrain it. Only when true Mercury is gathered in by true Lead can the two join and coalesce without scattering. This is why alchemy takes true Lead as the foundation of the Golden Elixir.

Nothing in the world can go against the principle of Yin-Yang; to do so is to defy the Dao of Heaven and turn away from the root. If a hen incubates eggs on her own, the chicks that hatch are incomplete. Why? Because Yin and Yang have not yet been matched and joined, Three and Five have not combined, and firmness and softness remain apart.

Only when Yin and Yang are in harmony and work together can they be called the Dao (the Way). When one is stronger than the other, an imbalance arises. A hen that lays eggs without mating with a rooster, for example, cannot hatch chicks: Yang alone cannot bring forth life, and Yin alone cannot bring anything to completion.

The Wuzhen Pian says: “Do not mistake solitary Yin for having Yang. Cultivating one thing alone will only make a person grow weaker day by day. To exhaust the body and follow misguided methods of refining Qi (vital energy) and consuming rosy clouds is even more deluded. People waste their efforts chasing mercury and lead—terms from alchemy that often stand for Yin and Yang substances. When will they ever see the Dragon and Tiger unite? I urge you to investigate deeply where the source of life lies. Return to the root and restore the origin: that is the finest king of medicines.” If a person can gather and settle the mind, turn inward to observe themselves, and unite Yin and Yang within, then firmness and gentleness can complement each other, and the three and five can return to the One—that is, different elements can come together as a whole. Why seek anything outside?

The Huanyuan Pian says: “Harmonize the inner Yin and Yang within yourself.” The Yuzhi Shu says: “Yin and Yang are not gathered from another person’s body.” The Huandan Pian says: “Yin and Yang must be drawn from what is true within oneself.” How could one leave oneself and seek outside? The Cuixu Pian says: “It is better to seek a teacher and learn the way to peace and ease than to hoard and take another person’s Jing and blood.” An old saying goes: “All things in Heaven and Earth return to this. One must learn the way of Wuwei (non-action) and stillness.” For the Golden Elixir—the aim of Neidan (internal alchemy)—is precisely the Dao of stillness and non-action. Some people are taken in by deviant teachings and believe that a woman is required to refine the Golden Elixir. This is deeply misleading.

Heaven and Earth bring forth and nurture things spontaneously. Fire naturally rises when stirred, and water naturally flows downward and moistens. No teacher stands beside them to guide them into doing so. Heaven and Earth take this as the beginning of all things and govern the patterns by which they operate; those patterns do not change.

How could Heaven and Earth’s nurturing of all things, or fire rising and water flowing downward to moisten, depend on human effort? They all happen naturally. We too have Heaven and Earth within us, as well as water and fire. Are their transformations and movements driven by human effort? They, too, simply follow their natural course. All things begin from this, and their workings are governed by it; its patterns do not change.

Are the transformations of Heaven and Earth, the rising and descending of water and fire, and their moistening and nourishing brought about by human effort? They simply proceed of themselves. Within my own body, too, there are Heaven and Earth, and there are water and fire. Their transformations, rising and descending, moistening and nourishing likewise are not driven by human agency; they all unfold naturally.

The Zhipian says, “To understand how the eastern and western paths come together, the key is to keep the upper and lower Dantian (energy centers whose locations represent the gathering points of Qi within the body during cultivation) balanced and harmonious.” The human body takes Heaven and Earth as its model: the head corresponds to Heaven, and the abdomen to Earth. One need only gather the Shen inward and keep it there, without deliberately forgetting or forcibly augmenting it; regulate the breath through the nose, without letting it run wild or constraining it. Then opening and closing, receiving and nourishing, arise naturally, following the same patterns as the transformations of Heaven and Earth. When the time is ripe and the Qi mechanism shifts, the inner pivot stirs, and one sees fire rise from below the navel and water emerge from the crown of the head. The subtle workings in between come about of themselves; they do not require exertion and strain beforehand.

This is the principle by which Heaven and Earth form naturally and remain constant. Wei Boyang feared that those who study the Dao would not understand the relationship between Yin-Yang and above and below within the body. He therefore used the transformations of Heaven and Earth, and the rising and descending of water and fire with their moistening and nourishing, as analogies, explaining them in thorough and lucid detail.

Observe the union of male and female: firmness and softness join together, closely bound and difficult to separate. They unite according to a set rhythm; their union is not controlled by technique.

The Quanzhen Ji says, “When Qi is harmonious and Shen settled, breath and breath join.” The Cuixu Pian says, “It is like a husband and wife joining: a drop of essence and blood congeals into an infant.” The “union” of the Golden Elixir refers to Yin and Yang responding to one another within the body, and Shen joining with Qi. “Male and female” and “husband and wife” are metaphors. The Huanyuan Pian says, “When Shen and Qi return to their root, body and mind recover life’s original state; this true and wondrous aperture, I suspect, is known by very few.” When Shen enters Qi and Qi joins with Shen, firmness and softness become closely bound and difficult to separate. How could this be brought about by technique? One sees it happen naturally, yet does not know why. Wonderful—truly wonderful!

A boy is born with his body face down; a girl is born with her body face up. These postures take shape from the moment they receive Qi in the womb; they do not appear only at birth. They appear again at death. Their parents do not teach them to take these positions; they are determined from the very beginning, when Yin and Yang unite.

Chu Huagu’s Discourse on Dispelling Doubts says: “When Qi opens outward, it is Yang and forms a man; when Qi closes inward, it is Yin and forms a woman. Through opening and closing, men and women are distinguished.” In his commentary on the Scripture of the Mind Seal, Li Yuxi says that men and women originally receive the same primordial Qi. They differ as Yin and Yang only because the Qi responds and mingles in a different sequence. Yang Qi gathers in the face, so a man’s face is heavier, and he must be born face down. Yin Qi gathers in the back, so a woman’s back is heavier, and she must be born lying on her back. This is true not only at birth but also after death: a man who drowns must float face down, while a woman who drowns must float face up. The same pattern of floating face up or face down is found among drowned animals. Could their parents have taught them to do this? In fact, from the moment they receive primordial Qi, the pattern is already determined: opening or closing, one sequence or the other.

Why, then, does Wei Boyang, while explaining the Dao of stillness and purity, speak of men and women floating face up or face down? He has no other purpose than to help those who study the Dao fully understand the relation between Yin and Yang within themselves, above and below, and thereby grasp the principles of natural creation and transformation.

The Kan trigram is Yang, called “Kan the male,” and symbolizes the moon; the Li trigram is Yin, called “Li the female,” and symbolizes the sun. The sun bestows its beneficence, while the moon spreads its light. The sun and moon alternate in their courses, each without damage to its own nature. If Yang Qi loses its coordination with Yin Qi, Yin Qi will encroach on the sun’s light. When the alternation of sun and moon falls out of order, there may be a dark moon or a new moon, or the sun and moon may press against one another, concealing and enveloping each other. When Yang Qi’s form is diminished and Yin Qi bears down upon it, anomalous disasters arise.

When the central line of the Qian hexagram enters the Kun hexagram, it forms the Kan hexagram; Kan therefore symbolizes the middle son. When the central line of the Kun hexagram enters the Qian hexagram, it forms the Li hexagram; Li therefore symbolizes the middle daughter. The Li hexagram originally belongs to the body of Qian, yet its central line is a Kun line, so it is Yang on the outside and Yin within, and takes the sun as its image. The Kan hexagram originally belongs to the body of Kun, yet its central line is a Qian line, so it is Yin on the outside and Yang within, and takes the moon as its image.

The Wuzhen pian says: “Li occupies the sun’s position, yet is the female; Kan corresponds to the moon palace, yet is the male. If you do not understand the meaning of Yin and Yang being reversed, do not make rash pronouncements based on a superficial view.” This refers to the positions of Yin and Yang within the human body being opposite to what is ordinarily expected. Practitioners must not rely only on appearances.

The sun bestows its grace and symbolizes the way of the husband; the moon spreads its radiance and symbolizes the way of the wife. Now, to call Kan, symbolized by the moon, male, and Li, symbolized by the sun, female, seems to turn the wife into the husband and the husband into the wife. This is what is meant by “reversal.” The sun and moon alternate and change without their underlying substance being harmed because Yin and Yang depend on one another and mutually replenish each other.

When the sun and moon come into conjunction, a solar or lunar eclipse may occur: an eclipse happens only when they meet, and not when they do not. A solar eclipse therefore occurs at the new moon, when the moon passes between the sun and Earth; a lunar eclipse occurs at the full moon, when Earth lies between the sun and moon. Wei Boyang used the sun and moon as metaphors for the Dao of the Elixir, and repeatedly spoke of the dark moon, the new moon, and the sun and moon obscuring one another. He clearly had a deeper meaning in mind. Scholars should turn their gaze inward and seek the sun, moon, dark moon, and new moon within themselves.

The Shangqing ji says: “Watching the Dipper’s handle make its circuit through the heavens, I suddenly grasped the wondrous secret of the immortals: a point of true Yang is born in Kan, repairing the deficiency in the Li palace. Since ancient times, Qian and Kun, Li and Kan, have revolved day after day without pause. This year, at the winter solstice, the plum blossoms are still covered with snow. The sages of old closed their passes on this day and had no dealings with the outside world, all for the sake of living beings. All things contain the impulse to bring forth life; it is found precisely at the beginning of the Zi hour and the end of the Hai hour. Creation works without a sound: fire is born in water, and the subtlety lies between the Xu and Wei lunar mansions. Now I have grasped the principle of the Golden Crow flying into the Moon Toad’s den.” Here, through images of the winter solstice, the hours, the lunar mansions, the sun, and the moon, the passage points to the timing and workings of Neidan.

These words reveal the secrets of Heaven directly and clarify the essentials of the Dao. They are also sufficient proof that the principles Wei Boyang described are plainly true and not a deception.

Male and female depend on one another, taking in and releasing what nourishes them. The feminine and masculine interweave and mingle, each seeking union with its own kind.

Male and female, like the masculine and feminine, are the Yin and Yang energies within our bodies. When these two energies accord in nature, they naturally breathe in and out, mingle with one another, and form an inner Golden Elixir like a fetus. The Shangqing Ji says, “Within oneself, there is already a husband and wife.” This may sound laughable when told to ordinary people. Those who cultivate the Dao should understand it with a clear, tranquil attitude of Wuwei (non-action), and should not explain it through misguided views.

When Metal transforms into Water, Water flows and surges. When Fire transforms into Earth, Water can no longer flow.

Metal arises in the Palace of Kan, which symbolizes Water and the Yin side; in essence, it is Qi. Metal transforms into Water because the true Fire of the sun—the true Yang fire used in internal cultivation to refine the ingredients—continually steams and refines it from below, melting Metal into Water. Water flows in surging abundance and is difficult to stop. But when Fire reaches its utmost intensity, it too transforms into Earth. Earth overcomes Water, and when Water meets Earth, it stops and can flow no farther.

Thus, the Yang man acts and carries things out externally, while the Yin woman remains quiet and gathers things inwardly. If this goes beyond due measure and loses restraint, the woman’s side will bring it under control. The hun and po souls restrain one another, preventing excessive indulgence.

The Rujing Jing says, “Water can flow, and Fire can blaze; this can naturally be verified within the body.” Therefore, Lead and Mercury—terms in Neidan for the two ingredients representing Yin and Yang—must be harmonized to just the right degree for the Elixir to form; they must not exceed their measure. The Kan man, symbolizing the Yang side, acts and moves outward, while the Li woman, symbolizing the Yin side, remains still and gathers inward. Once things become excessive and lose restraint, the Li woman brings them under control, so that the hun and po souls balance one another and do not indulge to excess.

The firing process in alchemy must be neither too cool nor too hot. Advance and retreat in keeping with the right moment, so that all aspects remain in harmony and together display the signs of their accord.

When gathering the ingredients, regulate the firing process so that it is neither too hurried nor too slow; seek only peaceful union. The Fuming Pian says, “Firmness and yielding meet, and the breath is even; the subtlety lies in not harming Dui and Zhen.” Dui and Zhen are trigrams in the Yi that represent the transformations of Yin and Yang. In general, harmony is the essential principle of cultivation.

Cinnabar is the essence of Wood; it must meet Metal to unite.

The Yuanyangzi Dadao Ge says, “Know that cinnabar is the essence of Wood: move it to the position of the West so it may unite with Metal.” Mercury is prone to scatter and difficult to subdue. Only when placed in the Lead furnace and joined with Lead does it cease to scatter.

When Metal and Water unite, and Wood and Fire accompany one another, the four merge into one. When they appear separately, they are called the Dragon and Tiger: the Dragon belongs to Yang and takes odd numbers; the Tiger belongs to Yin and takes even numbers.

Heaven’s One generates Water, which dwells in the north and symbolizes the Black Tortoise, the divine beast of the north. Earth’s Two generates Fire, which dwells in the south and symbolizes the Vermilion Bird, the divine bird of the south. Heaven’s Three generates Wood, which dwells in the east and symbolizes the Azure Dragon. Earth’s Four generates Metal, which dwells in the west and symbolizes the White Tiger. Each of the four guards its own direction and has its own symbol; originally, they were separate from one another. The phrase “Metal and Water unite; Wood and Fire accompany one another” means that the Metal symbolized by the White Tiger of the west descends into Water, while the Wood symbolized by the Azure Dragon of the east rises into Fire. The Yang Dragon originally emerges from the Li Palace, the trigram position associated with Fire, while the Yin Tiger is born in the Kan position, associated with Water. Thus Metal no longer dwells alone in the west but unites with Water in the north; Wood no longer dwells alone in the east but accompanies Fire in the south. The White Tiger becomes a Black Tiger, and the Azure Dragon transforms into a Red Dragon.

When Metal, Water, Wood, and Fire come together, they form an undifferentiated unity, like the Taiji before it divides. When expressed separately, they take two forms: the Mercury of the Zhen Dragon, a Yang substance used in cultivation and symbolized by mercury, emerges from the Li Palace; the Lead of the Dui Tiger, a Yin substance used in cultivation and symbolized by lead, is born in the Kan direction. Zhang Ziyang, a Northern Song Daoist and Neidan practitioner, understood the essence of this teaching and summed it up in one sentence: “The Four Symbols do not depart from the two forms.” Later scholars did not understand what the “Four Symbols” referred to. Some took the eyes, ears, nose, and tongue to be the Four Symbols; others identified the liver and lungs as the Dragon and Tiger. Once understanding strays from the right path, it moves ever further from the source and its context. How, then, could one grasp the subtle meaning of “the Four Symbols do not depart from the two forms”?

The liver belongs to green Wood and is the father; the lungs belong to white Metal and are the mother; the heart belongs to red Fire and is the daughter; the spleen belongs to yellow Earth and is the ancestor; and the kidneys belong to black Water and are the son. The Five Phases unfold from this, while three elements are gathered into one family, and in the end all return to Wu and Ji, the Earth-associated Heavenly Stems that symbolize central Earth.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “The liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys, along with the intestines and gallbladder, are no more than empty rooms and old fences; saliva, nasal mucus, semen, bodily fluids, Qi, blood, and other fluids can serve only as supporting steps.” This means that the Golden Elixir is the wondrous Dao of bringing being forth from nonbeing; it is not something with physical form or substance. If so, why did Wei Boyang use the five viscera to explain it? The answer is that he did not intend the five viscera to be used to refine the elixir. He borrowed them as metaphors for the Five Phases. The liver corresponds to the color green and the lungs to white, serving as metaphors for Wood and Metal; the heart corresponds to red and the kidneys to black, serving as metaphors for Fire and Water. Metal generates Water, and Wood generates Fire, so the liver and lungs are called parents, and the heart and kidneys their children. Since Metal and Wood both arise from Earth, the spleen is likened to an ancestor.

If the kidneys are the children, why are they also said to be the starting point of the Five Phases? The answer is that the kidneys correspond to Water, whose number is one. The Qi mechanism of the day begins at the hour of Zi; Qi stirs to life in the kidneys, then passes on to the liver, heart, spleen, and lungs.

If so, why are the liver, heart, spleen, lungs, and kidneys not called the “five viscera,” but instead called the “three things”? The answer is that Metal joins with Water, Wood accompanies Fire, and these then combine with the Earth of central Wu and Ji, forming three categories. The transformations of the Four Images and the Five Phases cannot be separated from Earth. Without Wu and Ji Earth, the elixir cannot be refined. Therefore, all three categories of things ultimately return to Wu and Ji Earth.

Firmness and yielding alternate in their rise, each moving according to its appointed season and occupying a different direction: the dragon is in the west and the tiger in the east, corresponding respectively to the Mao and You positions. Punishment and Virtue meet; seeing one another, they rejoice. Punishment governs killing and concealment, while Virtue governs generation and emergence. In the second month, the elm sheds its leaves and the Dipper’s ladle is positioned at Mao; in the eighth month, wheat grows and the Heavenly Dipper occupies You. Zi is in the south and Wu in the north; crossing one another, they form the guiding principles that govern the cycles.

The alternating rise of hardness and softness reflects the mutual dependence and cyclical movement of the two Qi energies of Yin and Yang. Their passage through successive periods means that they circulate through the hours in turn. The Dragon is in the west and the Tiger in the east; Zi is in the south and Wu in the north. Punishment and Virtue converge, encounter one another, and come into harmony. This symbolizes the celestial bodies’ movement when Mao and You meet: there is no obstruction between Metal and Wood.

Punishment governs severity and concealment, sinking as though to the bottom of the sea. It is like the austere force of autumn, which gathers and stores all things away. Virtue governs growth and emergence, rising as though toward the Southern Sea. It is like the generative force of spring, which unfolds and nourishes the growth of all things.

The elm withers in the second month because the Dipper’s Ladle occupies the Mao position. Mao is the monthly marker in the second month, and the month’s general is the River Kui. The River Kui belongs to Xu, which contains hidden Xin Metal. The elm’s withering that month is explained as the austere force of Xin Metal arriving at the Mao position. Wheat grows in the eighth month because the Heavenly Gang occupies the You position. You is the monthly marker in the eighth month, and the month’s general is the Heavenly Gang. The Heavenly Gang belongs to Chen, which contains hidden Yi Wood. Wheat’s growth that month is explained as the generative force of Yi Wood occupying the You position.

Zi in the south and Wu in the north together form the guiding order of Heaven and Earth’s movement. At the Mao hour in the second month, the sun moves through the western quarter of the sky, called the “Western Land.” At this time, the Western Land lies in the northeast, while the southern quarter lies to the south. At the You hour in the eighth month, the sun moves through the eastern quarter of the sky, called the “Eastern Land.” At this time, the Eastern Land lies in the west, while the southern quarter lies to the north. North and south are the meridian of Heaven and Earth; east and west are its parallel. When the positions of the Dipper’s Ladle and the Heavenly Gang in the cauldron turn, the Dragon moves west and the Tiger east, while Zi lies south and Wu north. This transformation resembles the natural workings of creation in the second month at Mao and the eighth month at You.

Thus the Wuzhen Pian says: “In the months and hours of the Rabbit and Rooster, Punishment and Virtue approach the gate—the signs of the elixir.” The Rabbit and Rooster refer to the Mao and You months. Punishment and Virtue approaching the gate means that their forces converge in the corresponding seasons, serving as a metaphor for the signs of the substances used in alchemical cultivation. “Sign” means an image or analogy. Wei Boyang used these celestial phenomena as metaphors, and the principle he conveys is clear enough. Yet those who cling to the words and rigidly adhere to external symbols often search only in books and refuse to turn their attention to themselves. They draw one another into confusion and never find a way out.

They do not understand that Wei Boyang’s Dragon in the west, Tiger in the east, Zi in the south, and Wu in the north refer precisely to the reversal of the positions of Heaven and Earth within oneself. Once one grasps the subtlety of this inner reversal, the reason east and west form the meridian and parallel, and the way north and south govern one another, can be silently understood. Why persist in seeking outward?

“The number nine-one” is the pattern known as “nine above, one below”: nine is positioned above and one below. “Ending and beginning again” means moving from one to nine, then returning from nine to one, rising and descending in an unceasing cycle.

“Containing the primordial in Xu and Wei, and spreading essence at Zi”: When the sun passes through the Xu and Wei lunar mansions, night after night, primordial Qi is conceived at that time. At the Zi hour, around midnight, Qi moves to the Tail Gate, at the base of the spine along the course of the Governing Vessel, and true Jing arises there.

The secret of Golden Elixir cultivation lies in first containing primordial Qi in the prenatal state, then generating true Jing in the postnatal state. The prenatal state is still and unmoving, deep and difficult to discern, before Taiji has divided. The postnatal state is one of responding and stirring, hazy and difficult to grasp, after Taiji has divided. In the prenatal state there is only one Qi; only in the postnatal state does it transform into true Jing.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “Half a jin of true mercury, half a jin of lead, born in the emptiness before Taiji; gather them at the Zi hour, and refine them into liquid gold to enter the Dantian.” This expresses precisely the principle. “Xu and Wei” refers to the transition between Hai and Zi, when Yin reaches its height and Yang begins to emerge; the “Zi hour” is where Yang stirs into action. From then on, Yin and Yang divide like a body giving birth, each forming its own channels of movement. The subtlety lies in the changes of Qi associated with the lunar mansions Tail, Basket, Ox, Dipper, and Maiden. If one cannot discern Yin and Yang within oneself or deeply understand the transformations of Heaven and Earth, who could grasp the principle?

The “guan-guan” cries of the ospreys echo as they perch on a sandbank in the river. A beautiful and virtuous woman makes a fine partner for a noble gentleman. The male bird does not live alone, nor does the female dwell in isolation. In the Daoist image of the Dark Warrior (Xuanwu), a tortoise and snake coil around one another in dependence, showing that Yin and Yang should work together and rely on each other.

Suppose two women lived together. Though both were beautiful, even if Su Qin, famed for his persuasive speeches during the Warring States period, and Zhang Yi, a renowned political strategist of that era, were to act as matchmakers, using every art of eloquence and speaking every kind word to bring them together as spouses, they would never come to know one another, even if their hair fell out and their teeth rotted away. If the substances used to refine an elixir were not of the same kind, if their names and properties did not correspond, if their proportions were wrong and the rules were not observed, then even if the Yellow Emperor personally tended the furnace, Taiyi, a Daoist deity, controlled the fire, the Eight Immortals pounded and refined the ingredients, and the King of Huainan measured them out; even if a high altar were built and jade steps laid, offerings of qilin and phoenix meat made, and one knelt in reverence to pray to the spirits, bathing, observing purification rites, and making devout supplications, all would still be in vain. It would be like patching a broken pot with clay or treating a malignant sore with niter; like adding ice to a body that fears the cold, or pouring hot broth into someone with a fever. Each would only make matters worse.

The Great Way of the Golden Elixir, the method of cultivating and refining the Elixir, ultimately concerns the union of Yin and Yang. The same principle appears everywhere when we look to human affairs and the workings of the myriad things. Wei Boyang drew on the pairing of the virtuous woman and noble gentleman in “Guan Ju” to show that Yin and Yang within the body should unite. He also used the image of the tortoise and snake entwined in Xuanwu to show that the Yin and Yang within the body depend on each other. These comparisons are thorough and precise. For example, in the Book of Changes, the Xian hexagram depicts the female Dui and male Gen responding to each other and joining; the Kui hexagram, by contrast, symbolizes two women living together whose intentions are at odds. This shows that Yin and Yang must be in harmony and that neither should be favored over the other.

The firing and refinement in the elixir furnace must likewise keep the two aspects of Yin and Yang in balance. If the substances are unsuitable or their amounts fail to meet the proper measure, then even if the Yellow Emperor tends the furnace, Taiyi manages the fire, and the Eight Immortals and the King of Huainan pound, refine, and blend the ingredients together; even if gold and jade are used for the altar and steps, qilin and phoenix are offered in sacrifice, and one bathes, observes purification rites, kneels in reverence, and prays to the spirits of Heaven and Earth, the effort will only waste time and come to nothing. It is like patching a broken pot with clay or applying niter to a diseased sore; like adding ice to someone who fears the cold or using hot broth to treat a fever. It only makes the whole affair more absurd.

Some people misunderstand the saying, “The male does not live alone, nor does the female dwell in isolation.” They assume that refining the Elixir requires the help of a woman, or else one’s Yang energy is insufficient. They use these words to defend depraved practices and mock the orthodox Way as impractical. This only shows that they do not understand the principle.

The sages of old could nourish the wondrous Dao and preserve their true nature. Guangchengzi cultivated the Dao by focusing his mind, keeping still, and gathering Shen to nourish Qi; Laozi taught concentrating Jing and Qi and making body and mind supple like those of an infant. Nüwa’s refining of five-colored stones to mend the heavens, and Ranxiangshi’s grasp of the center of things and adaptation to changing circumstances, were also used by Lie Yukou, Zhuang Zhou, and others as metaphors for the methods of the Elixir, or Neidan cultivation.

Those who study the Dao should not think that only people born with the bones of an immortal can pursue the Great Dao. What matters is whether one is willing to resolve to do so: what kind of people were the sages, and what kind of people are we? Anyone willing to make the effort can succeed. If those who aspire to study the Dao can truly summon fierce resolve and persevere, cultivating diligently day and night without slackening, then when the time is ripe, Qi will transform naturally; when the conditions are in place, the work will succeed of itself. It is like a stubborn stone that can eventually be boiled soft, or an iron pestle that can eventually be ground into a needle. The danger is that one studies but never encounters a true master; encounters one but fails to receive the true transmission; receives the oral instructions but cannot keep to them; begins cultivating in the morning but expects results by evening; or has only just begun and already wants to see the outcome. One gains a small benefit without yet becoming steadfast, while the effort has already been immense; the foundation of cultivation has not yet taken root, yet one is beset by one discomfort and difficulty after another. In such a case, even with Guangchengzi or Laozi as a teacher, and Liezi or Zhuangzi as a friend, nothing would help.

Ma Danyang, a Quanzhen Daoist, says in the Jinyu Ji that refining Qi should become a daily practice, and nourishing Shen should become part of ordinary life. One should keep the Dragon and Tiger in harmony, and not let the mind-monkey and will-horse leap about wildly. He also says that observing the workings of Heaven and silently contemplating the Great Dao brings one to the union of Yin and Yang; among the instructions handed down by the master, Wuwei has the greatest power. In ancient times, those who cultivated the Elixir kept their minds free of stray thoughts, let go of all things, and maintained a clear, quiet state of mind, simply following the Great Dao. In stillness and concentration, they nourished a peaceful Qi. Their exhalations were subtle and their inhalations long and unbroken; the breath rose to the Niwan, a cultivation point within the crown of the head, and descended to the Mingmen, a cultivation point between the waist and abdomen, circulating without pause as Shen and Qi remained together at all times. When the Neidan was nearing completion, primordial Qi would naturally settle in the Dantian, the center of internal alchemical cultivation in the abdomen, as though joining Heaven and Earth in governing the one Qi.

The Yellow Emperor once lived in seclusion at the Dating Hall for three months and turned his gaze inward. It is said that he used this very method. The Dao is exceedingly simple to describe: throughout the twelve double-hours of the day, one need only let the mind continually guide the breath, so that breath and Shen unite. Then the body can endure for a long time, moving in step with the sun and moon and circulating without end like the Milky Way. Shao Yong’s Zhixuan Pian says, “If each breath responds to the one before it, the bodily frame will gradually transform, and Jade Fluid will flow.” This is precisely the principle. If, while exhaling, one cannot guide the breath with Shen-intent, the breath will not be complete; the same is true of inhalation. The key is for mind and breath always to depend on one another, and Shen and Qi always to remain together, with each thought following the last and all joined as one. Only then can body and Shen reach a wondrous state and accord with the Dao. The saying “Shen is nature, Qi is life; when Shen does not scatter outward, Qi settles naturally” means the same as the line in the Xianle Ji: “When Qi and Shen meet, nature is settled and life is secure.” Shen and Qi must not be separated for even an instant.

Ordinary people, however, are different. Though Qi breathes within the body, the mind and Shen are constantly drawn away by external things. From childhood they pass into adulthood, and from adulthood into old age, yet the mind and Shen never settle within the body for even a moment. As a result, Shen and Qi go their separate ways and cannot remain together. In the end, the body’s “dwelling” lies empty and ruined, and its inhabitant can no longer sustain itself. Did Heaven and Earth kill people, or did ghosts and spirits harm them? In truth, people lose the way of nurturing life and bring about their own decline.

Shi Qizhen’s Zhong-Lü Chuandao Ji says that what is exhaled is one’s own primordial Qi leaving the body, while what is inhaled is the pure, upright Qi of Heaven and Earth entering from outside. If the body’s foundation is firm and primordial Qi has not been depleted, one can draw in the upright Qi of Heaven and Earth with every inhalation and exhalation. If the foundation is weak and Jing and Qi have already been damaged, primordial Qi continually leaks upward while the Dantian receives no replenishment below. Then the Qi of Heaven and Earth that has been inhaled will also disperse with the exhalation. One will be unable to retain one’s own primordial Qi; instead, it will be drained away by Heaven and Earth. That is why immortals often say that gathering the ingredients and refining them must be done in good time: once the cauldron vessel—the foundation of body and mind on which cultivation depends—has been ruined, it is difficult to repair.

In his later years, Su Ziyou asked the immortal woman Zheng about the way of nurturing life. She said, “Your cauldron vessel has already been ruined; it will be difficult for you to attain the Dao.” The “medicinal ingredients” needed for cultivation should be stored up from youth. If one only begins cultivating in old age, then even with great effort one can do no more than prolong life and pass one’s remaining years in peace. The Cuixu Pian says, “The principle is clear, contained in just a few words: cultivation in old age and youth differs in ease and difficulty.” This is what it means.

Someone asked, “Lü Chunyang was fifty when he first heard of the Great Dao, while Ma Ziran and Liu Langran both attained the Dao after the age of sixty-four. Why was that?” The answer was: “A damaged house is easier to repair; even after the medicinal power has run dry, it is still possible for it to arise again. As long as one understands how to return to the source, treasures of gold can accumulate like a mountain. What matters is the quality of one’s daily cultivation.”

The “Nine Cauldrons” refers to the stages of heat in the alchemical process, divided into nine turns. When the heat of all nine turns is complete, transformation can occur: one’s traces disappear, and one seems to ride the wind through the air, roaming freely between Heaven and Earth. Lü Chunyang’s “Song of the Broken Kiln Head” says, “After passing through all nine years of heating, suddenly the Gate of Heaven opens atop the head. The perfected person appears, and great spiritual powers follow. From then on, Celestial Immortals come to offer congratulations.” This describes precisely that state.

The upper, middle, and lower origins refer to the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (energy centers). After cultivating Jing, Qi, and Shen over a long period and attaining deep skill, the spirit can be stored within, while a peaceful Qi fills the whole body. The entire body, down to every bone and every opening, can then be connected. Practitioners believe this state operates on its own, like the flow of the Celestial River. The “Precious Treatise of Primordial Unity” says, “As the years pass, there is no need to exert oneself in directing it; the wheel of fire and axle of water circulate naturally.” This is what the passage means.

“Containing Jing and nurturing Shen” means not allowing the body to become overworked or the mind to become exhausted. If Shen is used too much, it will be depleted; if Jing is spent too freely, it will be exhausted. To harm oneself day after day until one decays like plants and trees is truly regrettable. Therefore, those who practice Neidan (internal alchemy) should make the mind and spirit empty and still, forget the body, focus steadfastly on the One, and nurture inner clarity. In this way, they can preserve Jing, protect Qi, and keep Shen whole. Only when the three Dantian are full of Jing and Qi, and the Qi of the five viscera is abundant, can one be said to have achieved the Elixir.

Tan Jingsheng’s “Book of Transformation” says: sorrow brings tears, toil brings nasal discharge, resentment brings goiters, and anger brings sores and ulcers. Whatever the heart desires, Qi gathers there, and nothing fails to grow as a result. Favoring one thing can therefore harm another. Thus, people of the Dao restrain sorrow and toil and guard against anger, thereby gaining the foundation of clear and harmonious Qi. They also know where the original spirit is stored, keeping their spirit bright without letting it spill outward. Like a mussel that conceals a pearl or a stone that holds jade, they become places where treasures are formed. This is indeed a profound teaching.

When Jing and Qi are abundant, they fill the spaces between the skin’s lines and make the sinews and bones strong.

Couli refers to the textures and spaces between the skin and muscles. When cultivation reaches the point where Jing and Qi are abundant and overflow into the Couli, the blood will turn into a paste-like substance. The Cui Xu Pian says: “Now the blood throughout the body has turned white, and I feel that I no longer fear the cold in any of the four seasons.” The key to cultivation lies in replenishing the brain and marrow, for the brain is where the marrow gathers. When the brain and marrow are full, the Qi of pure Yang circulates throughout the body, and all the other marrow is replenished in turn. The bones then become solid and the sinews and channels strong, so one is no longer troubled by cold or heat.

Once all harmful Qi has been expelled, the Upright Qi can remain within.

People can cultivate themselves and attain longevity because they can absorb the pure Qi of Heaven and Earth. They can absorb the Qi of Heaven and Earth because they breathe. The exhalation reaches deep into the body’s roots, while the inhalation extends to its extremities. In this way, the Qi of Heaven and Earth can be drawn into the Dantian (the point where Qi gathers in internal alchemy practice).

Human breathing is like the breathing of Heaven and Earth. The Book of Supreme Ultimate Order says that the period after the winter solstice is called “exhalation,” and the period after the summer solstice “inhalation.” This compares a year to a single breath of Heaven and Earth. Zhang Guanwu explains that after the winter solstice, Yang Qi grows and Yin Qi declines, and all things unfold and grow; this is why the period is called “exhalation.” After the summer solstice, Yin Qi grows and Yang Qi declines, and all things draw inward and return to their hidden state; this is why the period is called “inhalation.” Over the course of a day, the hours after midnight are called “exhalation,” and those after noon “inhalation.” A year and a day in Heaven correspond to a single breath in a person.

The scripture also says that one great cycle lasts 129,600 years; within the great transformations of Heaven and Earth, this is equivalent to a single year. According to Neidan practice, a person exhales 13,500 times a day and inhales 13,500 times; one exhalation and one inhalation together count as a single breath. Thus, in a single breath, a practitioner can secretly absorb the cycles of Qi corresponding to 13,500 years of the workings of Heaven and Earth. A year has 360 days and 4,860,000 breaths, corresponding to the cycles of Qi from 4,860,000 years of the workings of Heaven and Earth.

The scripture says that through this practice, the body can gradually be transformed: first Qi, then blood, vessels, flesh, marrow, sinews, bones, and hair, and finally the body’s form itself. After nine years and nine transformations, Yin Qi can be completely eliminated and Yang Qi made pure, bringing one’s lifespan into harmony with Heaven and Earth. This is the way to longevity and transcendence.

Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), says that the key to dispelling all evil Qi and keeping the correct Qi constantly present is to regulate the firing times day and night—a term in Neidan for managing the process of cultivation and refinement—and to refine away Yin Qi. Only when the body has been transformed into pure Yang can one attain longevity. The Cui Xu Pian also says that when golden light shines through the body and the marrow becomes fragrant, the sinews and bones turn to gold and jade, and one ultimately attains pure Yang. When cultivation reaches the point where red blood turns white, Yin Qi disperses and the body becomes healthy.

The scripture concludes by likening pure Yang to an immortal, pure Yin to a ghost, and an equal balance of Yin and Yang to an ordinary person. If someone can refine Yang and dispel Yin, they can become an immortal of pure Yang. As long as even a trace of Yin Qi remains unrefined, they cannot be called pure Yang.

The most important thing in cultivating the Elixir Way is to emulate the Dao of Heaven, which moves steadily and never ceases. The ancients said, “Observe the Dao of Heaven and grasp the patterns of its movement, and everything will become clear.” Heaven and Earth turn without pause, day and night. If people can understand their patterns and use them to cultivate themselves, the way to long life and far-reaching vision lies within them. Though the human body is only six feet tall, it can emulate the Dao of Heaven and sustain its cultivation without slackening. This principle is indeed profound, but keeping to it is truly difficult.

The Book of Changes says, “Heaven moves with vigor; the noble person strengthens himself without ceasing.” Heaven keeps moving because its motion is vigorous and unbroken. The noble person, too, should emulate the Dao of Qian, which symbolizes Heaven’s vigorous movement, holding firm to his aspirations and striving continually. Yet “without ceasing” is precisely what people find hardest to achieve. Heaven moves on day and night without pause; how easy is it for people to emulate it and persevere over the long term?

Still, great undertakings in the world begin with small things, and difficult tasks can be approached through what is easy. A tree large enough to be embraced grows from a tiny shoot; a high terrace is built basket by basket; a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step beneath one’s feet. The sages planned difficult tasks by starting with what was easy, and achieved great undertakings by beginning with what was minute. They did so through long accumulation. The Scripture of the Yellow Court says, “Immortals and Daoist adepts are not born with extraordinary powers. They cultivate into perfected beings by accumulating Jing and Qi.” Thus, after the initial formation of the embryo, a hundred days of work bring clear results; after ten months, the embryo’s Qi is complete; after a year, there is some achievement; after three years, great achievement. Only after nine years, when one’s cultivation is complete and all worldly affairs are settled, can one transcend the dust of the world, take flight, and ascend to immortality. No one can achieve this without long accumulation.

To say that one need not work for long and can become an immortal straight away is like digging a single shovelful of earth and expecting to make a well nine ren deep, or taking one step and expecting to scale a wall ten thousand zhang high. How could that make sense? The Treatise on the Penetration of the Dao says, “Step by step, without stopping, even a lame turtle can travel a thousand miles. Keep piling up earth, and a mound will grow into a hill. If you want to catch fish by the river, you would do better to go home and weave a net.” So those who study the Dao need not worry that they cannot succeed. What they should truly worry about is whether they are willing to work diligently; harder still to overcome than a lack of diligence is the failure to persevere over time.

In Wu Zongxuan’s Treatise on the Guiding Principles of the Mysterious, he says: among a thousand who know the Dao, only one resolves to cultivate it; among a thousand who resolve to cultivate the Dao, only one can devote himself to it with single-minded diligence; among a thousand who do so, only one can work diligently and persevere over time. Thus, many people study the Dao, but few ultimately achieve anything. If one can move from knowing to resolving, from resolving to setting aside worldly distractions, from leaving the worldly behind to single-minded diligence, and from diligence to perseverance, then there is no reason one could study the Dao and fail to achieve it. The world’s ways have declined, and the sages have long since departed. Yet many who study the Dao are restless and impatient, trying to follow a path of stillness with an agitated mind: they always want quick results, but progress is slow; they expect a response in the present, while the true outcome remains far away. So they often fail to persevere to the end. If one’s resolve is weak and one’s faith in the Dao shallow, if one acts today and changes course tomorrow, begins diligently and gives up halfway, enjoys brief effort but grows weary of long perseverance, yet still hopes to live as long as Heaven and Earth, is that not foolish?

The Scripture of Inner Observation says, “Knowing the Dao is easy; believing in it is hard. Believing in it is easy; practicing it is hard. Practicing it is easy; attaining it is hard. Attaining it is easy; keeping to it is hard.” If cultivating the Dao had none of these difficulties, immortals would fill every street. How, then, could it be so precious?

In a poem, Lü Chunyang says, “The three mu of Dantian have no seed; at sowing time, one must borrow the Red Dragon to plow. I once taught someone this seed, but if you do not know how to cultivate and tend it, the Dao will not grow.” Dantian is a term used in Neidan cultivation for the place where Jing and Qi are refined and gathered. “Red Dragon” is a cultivation symbol borrowed for the poem. Is the Dao really far from people? In fact, people are the ones who have moved away from the Dao.

Some people see the lines in the Wuzhen Pian: “The bright red Golden Elixir is formed in a single day; the ancient immortal spoke the truth, and his words deserve belief. To speak of nine years or three years is merely to drag things out.” They then use them to mock the idea of long accumulation. They have not understood that Ziyang Zhenren quotes Han Xiaoyao to correct those who do not understand the wonder of results appearing in a moment and know only how to toil away for three or nine years. He is not saying that one can ascend to immortality in a single day, nor that long accumulation is no longer needed.

A poem in the Shangqing Collection says, “He taught me to practice for only a short while: my bones and hairs grew cold, and a flower formed in my heart. A single red pill took shape, and he said this was the Golden Elixir.” It also says that after burning incense, kneeling, and receiving oral instructions on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival in the first year of the Kaixi era, a few days of cultivation seemed to soften Heaven and Earth, the sun and moon. These lines describe effects that can appear after a short period of cultivation. The poem also says that even if one’s work brings mercury and lead together, it is still in vain without understanding the timing of the Fire Cycle. In general, one must rely on the Fire Cycle of the Celestial Circuit; after ten months, the sacred embryo only begins to reach completion. Even once the Elixir Seed has formed, it may dissipate. Only by mastering the timing of the Fire Cycle can it be made to congeal firmly. This shows that the Golden Elixir’s initial effects may indeed appear in a moment, but the full achievement of Golden Elixir cultivation cannot be completed in a single day.

Consider what the ancients said. Wang Yixuan says that the “nine revolutions” require a year of work, and also that the Fire Cycle must run for a thousand days before treasure appears in the furnace. Han Xiaoyao says that ten months bring completion, enough to match Heaven and Earth; he also says that three years of cultivation in emulation of the Dao of Heaven are needed to attain lasting Wuwei. Would the two Tang dynasty adepts, Wang and Han, have casually deceived later generations?

Lü Chunyang says that the work of a thousand days must not slacken for even a moment. He also says that after receiving the Celestial Talisman, one must continue accumulating merit through three thousand days of practice. Liu Haichan says that one must guard the eight passes within the furnace and complete the cycle of nine and five; the medicinal Qi undergoes seven reversals over three years. He also says that after the nine revolutions are complete, one must wait a thousand days before being entered into the register of immortals. Lü Dongbin and Liu Haichan are both eminent among the ranks of immortals. Would they have invented such words at random?

Chen Chaoyuan says, moreover, that nurturing the embryo takes ten months, while refining the Elixir takes three years. He also says that only after nine years of return can one refine pure Yang and become a perfected being of the highest truth. Wang Liangqi says that a thousand days of cultivation and nourishment according to the method of Heaven are needed to discard the false and preserve the real. He also says that when the three Dantian are planted full of numinous fungi, a thousand days of work can extend one’s life for ten thousand years. Xue Zixian says that when the Four Images converge in Wu and Ji, diligent cultivation for ten months can produce an infant; the ascent through cultivation still takes three years, during which it must be nurtured with care. Liu Xugu says that once Embryonic Breathing is perfected, completing one circuit requires three pauses; as the great work nears completion, its wondrous functions must remain unimpaired throughout the twelve double-hours. Chen Momo says that the Fire Cycle must be properly coordinated: a hundred days of work are needed, and completion of the refining takes three years. Li Changyuan says, “Do not think the Elixir is formed in just one day; in the end, it still takes years of work.” Chen Cuixu says that initial results can appear after a brief period of cultivation, but true maturity requires more than three years. He also says that only after a thousand days, when the timing of the Fire Cycle is mastered, can the Elixir Sprout ripen and the mercury Qi naturally dry out.

Could all these people have been wrong, speaking only to deceive later generations? In his Collection from Panxi, Qiu Changchun says that even those with little good fortune and deep demonic obstacles can reach completion if they undergo the trials and carry the work through. We who follow the same path should use these words to encourage one another.

I feel compassion for later seekers of the Dao (the Way). They often rely only on outward appearances to understand it, drawing diagrams and writing books from ancient texts. They make the minor details public for later generations while concealing the essentials. In their books, names such as “various stones” are used to disguise errors, which are then mixed in among a great many words. Scholars acquire these books and treasure them for a lifetime; sons inherit their fathers’ pursuits, and grandsons follow their grandfathers’ studies. Passed down from generation to generation, they remain confused and never gain true insight.

As a result, officials abandon their careers, farmers neglect their fields, merchants leave their goods behind, and men of aspiration are reduced to poverty. I feel deep sorrow over this. So I have deliberately arranged this text in a concise, accessible form, removing needless complexity and setting out only the entries, so that the facts within can be clearly examined. Every quantity has its proper measure, and the items must be compared with one another in sequence. That is why I have written these seemingly disordered passages. The book’s essential methods are concealed within them. Those with wisdom should consider them carefully and, through their own understanding, come to realize their meaning.

Chapter Thirty-Nine of Zhi Xuan says: “Those who seek immortality, if they do not recognize true lead and mercury, will gain nothing even if they idly read ten thousand volumes of elixir texts.” The lead and mercury described in elixir texts are metaphors. Students should draw inferences from them and grasp their meaning; they must not cling to literal words or physical images, abandon themselves, and seek outside.

The sages of antiquity took pity on later generations of Dao-seekers who could not grasp the essentials. Following clues, they used classical writings to portray and explain the path of cultivation, composing books and diagrams to pass it down so that those studying the Dao could follow the clues back to the source. Yet when they wrote, they often concealed the fundamental principles and refused to state them plainly, hinting instead at peripheral matters through “the five metals and eight minerals”—metals and minerals used in alchemy. If later readers did not investigate the meaning of these books and merely treasured them throughout their lives, their descendants would remain confused for generations. They exhausted their supplies of cinnabar and mercury and gained nothing in the end. Some gave up their official posts; others neglected their fields. Merchants lost their livelihoods, and men of ambition found it hard to make a living. This is truly lamentable.

Seeing this, Wei Boyang edited and circulated the Zhouyi Cantongqi. The quantities and numbers it gives all have a basis; not a single word is arbitrary. Readers who follow its clues and examine them carefully can make discoveries. Its language is concise and invites reflection; its account is essential and free of needless detail. Some see that it is divided into three sections and assume it contains too much, not knowing that the three sections are really one, and the one ultimately comes down to a single oral formula. The formula is scattered across the three sections, its phrases interwoven and its gateways concealed, because the author did not dare to set it out in one continuous passage and reveal it without reserve. Those with insight who examine it carefully, reflect deeply, and test it against their own experience will eventually understand.

“Between Heaven and Earth, there is no image greater than Heaven and Earth; the mysterious path of communication stretches on for tens of thousands of miles.”

The Great Dao is vast and difficult to describe in words. If one must speak of it, one can only use Heaven, Earth, and the myriad things as comparisons. To truly understand it, one must still reflect inwardly.

“Between Heaven and Earth, there is no image greater than Heaven and Earth; the mysterious path of communication stretches on for tens of thousands of miles.”

The Dao is so vast that it cannot be described in words or shapes. If we must explain it by comparison with something concrete, Heaven and Earth are the best analogy: they are the grandest of all patterns and forms. In the sky there is a celestial river called the “Mysterious Ditch,” stretching from the space between the constellations Tail and Winnowing Basket to the region of Willow and Star. It crosses the celestial sphere for tens of thousands of li, no one knows how many. Those who practice alchemical methods can model themselves on the celestial patterns, take the Earth as their guide, and then turn inward to investigate themselves. They will discover that within their own bodies there is also a Heaven and Earth. Only then do they understand that the “Mysterious Ditch” described by Wei Boyang also exists within us; there is no need to seek it in the sky. The “Mysterious Ditch” is the celestial river.

“The River Drum approaches the Year Star; the people are all terrified.”

River Drum is a constellation beside the celestial river, between the Dipper and Ox. The Year Star marks the Ox position on the celestial sphere. River Drum’s approach to the Year Star is an image of Qi rising from the body’s tailbone point during cultivation, like a flame filling the sky and surging straight toward the heavenly path: this is the moment it breaks through the barrier and emerges. At such a time, how could the “people” within the body—that is, the Qi and vital activities throughout it—not be shaken and terrified?

The Cui Xu Pian says, “Above the Bend of the River, the Golden Crow flies; Chang’e has already joined the Dipper and Ox in delight.” This describes River Drum approaching the Year Star. The text also says, “Mountains, rivers, and the Earth blaze with fire within; the myriad forms give rise to wind and thunder.” This depicts the scene in which “the people are all terrified.”

“When the movement of the firing process advances and retreats at will, danger will arise during the nine transformations.”

“Gnomon shadow” refers to the firing process: the regulation of heat and timing during alchemical work. “Advance and retreat” means moving forward and back. “Nine years” refers to the nine transformations. If the nine-year cultivation cycle is viewed in compressed form, one transformation is completed each month. This is what the Cui Xu Pian means by “the work of nine transformations takes nine months.” Compress it further, and within a single double-hour there can also be a small-scale cycle of nine transformations. This is what the Jindan Dacheng Ji means by “the work of nine transformations lies within a brief moment.”

The warning that the firing process must advance and retreat without the slightest error means that only with precise control can one safely ride the “Yellow Female Horse”—an image in Neidan cultivation for a crucial Qi or state of circulation—through the nine transformations and avoid mishap. If the process is mishandled, the “Purple River Cart,” an image for the rising and descending movement of Qi in Neidan cultivation, may overturn and bring danger. The Wuzhen Pian says, “In the end, all depends on the power of cultivation; if the slightest error occurs, the Elixir cannot be formed.” This means that alchemy depends entirely on cultivation: the smallest mistake prevents the Elixir from forming, so the firing process must be handled with great care.

The Sovereign (the ruler of the upper Dantian, referring to the Great Unity Lord within the Niwan) differs from the other bodily regions. Therefore, during the nine turns (the stages or cycles of the alchemical process), one must steadily guide the Yellow Mare (symbolizing the force that carries and moves the elixir ingredients) in order to remain safe and free of fault. If one does the opposite, the Purple River Cart (the pathway that transports Jing and Qi) will overturn during the nine turns, bringing danger and misfortune. The Wuzhen pian says, “In general, everything depends on the work of cultivation; even the slightest error prevents the elixir from forming.” One must therefore be cautious.

“The Sovereign looks down in view; the king withdraws behind” means that the ruler of the upper Dantian looks downward, and the king retreats behind him.

The Taishang Suling jing says that the human body has three Ones. The one in the upper region is the Heavenly Emperor within the body; the one in the middle region is the Elixir Sovereign of the Crimson Palace (the palace where the heart resides); and the one in the lower region is the Origin King of the Yellow Court (the inner landscape within the abdomen). The Heavenly Emperor above is the Great Unity Lord within the Niwan; the Elixir Sovereign in the middle is the Son of Heaven of the Crimson Palace; and the Origin King below is the Original Yang Lord in the Dantian. When Wei Boyang says, “The Sovereign looks down in view,” he means that the spirit-fire is set in motion and shines into the Kan position (symbolizing Water, the kidneys, and the true Yang within them), driving the true Yang out of Kan. “The king withdraws behind” means that, pressed by the force of the fire, the true Yang emerges from the Kan position. At this point, one sets the River Cart in motion (the means of transporting Jing and Qi), and the true Yang rises swiftly, preventing the true Yin in the Li Palace (symbolizing Fire and the heart) from changing.

“The hinges and bars have their high and low positions; thus the circuit of Heaven sets in motion” means that Heaven and Earth have pivotal points like door bolts, one high and one low, from which the movement of the circuit of Heaven begins.

The form of Heaven is like a pellet, revolving without pause day and night. Its northern and southern poles, one high and one low, are the hinges of Heaven and Earth’s movement. The human body is similar: the Heavenly Pass is above and the Earthly Axis below. If one can turn the Heavenly Pass and Earthly Axis so that above and below correspond, then with each breath one can complete a circuit of Heaven.

“The rivers never run dry; their waters flow into the sea” means that river waters continue to flow into the sea without being exhausted.

The sea is where all rivers converge. The rivers continue to flow into the sea because the caverns in famous mountains and great rivers are connected, allowing water vapors to circulate back and forth. The human body is the same: when the One Qi flows freely, water vapors from the eight directions flow in reverse and converge in the Origin Sea (referring to the Dantian).

“The female and male of Heaven and Earth circle between Zi and Wu” means that Yin and Yang between Heaven and Earth meet and linger at the Zi and Wu positions.

Wu is the center of Heaven, and Zi is the center of Earth. Zi and Wu are where Yin and Yang meet and Water and Fire assist one another. When the sun and moon reach these positions, they are bound to linger for a time. Today, people call the sun’s position directly overhead “the noon pause,” which likewise conveys this sense of stopping. In the practice of the Dao of the Elixir, the Qi mechanism rises and descends, ascending and sinking in turn, and likewise moves back and forth between Zi and Wu. This accords with the patterns of Heaven and Earth.

Yin and Yang take their root in Yin and Shen, which are also the gateways through which the myriad things emerge and return. When the Dipper points toward Yin, spring begins across the world: Yang energy starts to arise there, and the myriad things unfold and emerge. When the Dipper points toward Shen, autumn begins: Yin energy starts to contract and bring things to rest, and the myriad things return and withdraw into storage. Thus Yin and Shen mark the beginning and the return of Yin-Yang transformation. In Dantian practice, the movement of Qi begins at Yin and flows outward; at Shen it gathers and returns inward. This cycle repeats, just like the workings of Heaven and Earth.

Following the Dipper’s course, one directs its movement, holds the Dipper’s handle, and grasps the guiding order of the four seasons. Ancient astronomical records state that the handle and bowl of the Big Dipper each have their own names, and that at dusk, midnight, and dawn different parts of the Dipper point in different directions. The ancients regarded the Big Dipper as the chariot ridden by the celestial sovereign. It moves through the center of Heaven, governs the four directions, distinguishes Yin and Yang, arranges the four seasons, harmonizes the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), advances the solar terms, and establishes the order of the year. All these functions are associated with the Big Dipper. Its seven stars are named in sequence Tianshu, Xuan, Ji, Quan, Heng, Kaiyang, and Yaoguang. The first four form the bowl, and the last three form the handle.

The phrase “follow the Dipper’s circling course and hold the balance to set the cycle in motion” refers to taking one’s own Tiangang—the force of movement symbolized by the Big Dipper—as a guide, beginning at the Zi position and traveling through the twelve Earthly Branches. The Big Dipper occupies the center of Heaven, just as the heart occupies the center of the human body: the Dipper is Heaven’s pivot, and the heart is the human body’s pivot. In alchemical practice, the mind directs the timing and intensity of the fire, just as the celestial bodies move and advance through the twelve time periods under the Dipper’s guidance. The line in the Cui Xu Pian, “At midnight, watch the Dipper’s handle,” likewise means to visualize the handle’s movement at midnight and grasp the workings of Heaven.

The medicinal substance rises on Zeng Mountain—here referring to Mount Kunlun—as if placed in a steamer to be distilled, while the furnace fire blazes below. The White Tiger leads in front, and the Azure Dragon responds behind. Here the Dragon and Tiger symbolize the Yin and Yang energies that work together in the alchemical process, like a call answered in turn. The Jindan Dacheng Ji says that when the Dragon roars and the Tiger howls in the deep of night, one should swiftly set the River Chariot in motion—an image in Neidan for conveying Jing and Qi—transport the movement of Qi to Niwan, the cultivation site at the crown of the head, and then refine it with the furnace fire.

The Vermilion Bird (the divine bird of the southern direction, associated with Fire, and often a metaphor for the firing process in the elixir furnace) flies up and down, shining brightly and displaying the transformations of the Five Phases. Once the Golden Elixir has been refined, the practitioner, late at night, when the dragon roars and the tiger howls, swiftly circulates the River Cart (a method of guiding the movement of Qi within the body) without pause, sending Jing and Qi to the Mudball Palace (the Neidan cultivation site at the crown of the head). The furnace fire then cooks and refines them until they congeal like snow. This explains the principle involved.

The Vermilion Bird dances in flight, displaying five colors. Yet it is trapped beneath a net and cannot spread its wings to soar; all it can do is cry out in sorrow, like an infant longing for its mother. It falls upside down into boiling liquid, its feathers battered and damaged.

The Vermilion Bird represents Fire. As the firing process is regulated within the cauldron, it drives the transformations of the Five Phases, giving rise to five-colored radiance. The Vermilion Bird rises into the air, yet seems caught beneath a net. Winds and clouds surge within the cauldron, producing a sound like an infant’s wail. Suppressed and unable to take flight, it draws in its body, folds its feathers, and lies low within the cauldron. The Secret Instructions on the Great Elixir of the Red Dragon says: “The Vermilion Bird loves to fly high, but the toad catches it. Though it is called the Maiden (a symbol of the Yin medicine, or of Yang within Yin), its cry sounds like an infant’s. Its vigorous power gradually weakens, and its hidden force slowly fades.” This is what the passage means. Yuan Yangzi’s Song of the Great Dao says: “The Azure Dragon pursues the White Tiger, and the White Tiger in turn follows the Azure Dragon. The Vermilion Bird joins with them, sounding a harmonious cry. Regulate the breath and turn the firing process, so that cinnabar enters the abdomen; the body will naturally brim with vitality.” This expresses the same principle.

Before even half the water clock has elapsed, the dragon’s scales, armor, and mane appear. Five-colored radiance flashes brilliantly, taking forms that never remain fixed. The liquid in the cauldron surges and rolls, boiling fiercely without end. Layer upon layer piles up, interlocking and pressing together like dogs’ teeth. Its form resembles the ice ridges of midwinter, jutting out in every direction; in the center, liquid wells up like milk, rising high in a tangled mass, with each part overlapping and propping up the others.

Before even half an interval of the water clock has passed, images like dragon scales, horns, and mane begin to appear. This is the time to gather and refine. In an instant, a subtle Qi flows through the Three Passes; yellow clouds form ranks and white rams assemble in herds. Gold coins, golden flowers, and golden scales appear in profusion. Five-colored lights flash and shift without settling into any fixed form. The Qi governing these changes is like wind swaying a precious tree, its radiance dazzling the eyes; it is also like rain striking jade blossoms or snow falling to cover one’s clothes. Crimson clouds and purple mists keep taking shape as well, each in a different form.

The movement of Qi surges and churns within the cauldron, ceaseless as boiling water. This indicates that the fire in the Dantian (the inner-refinement site in the lower abdomen) is strong, wind is rising in the Mud Pill (the inner-refinement site in the head), and the Qi in the Three Palaces (the three areas described in internal cultivation) is full. It is like steam escaping from a rice steamer and water boiling over in a pot. The currents of Qi pile up and cross, pressing against one another. Their forms resemble ice in midwinter or stalactites growing between railings: jagged, towering, and layered across one another. Through repeated drawing in and guiding out, the Qi gradually gathers and condenses. It is like watering the Yellow Sprout (a term in Neidan cultivation that symbolizes the first emergence of Elixir Qi), helping it break through the soil, then form buds and produce blossoms.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “The arduous refinement takes roughly ten months in all; gather and refine gradually, and condense gradually.” If practitioners can devote themselves to inner cultivation without interruption, day or night, the Elixir will gradually take shape over time. The firing process (the regulation of breath and progress in inner cultivation) must be properly adjusted every day and every night. In due course, all the visions described above will appear one by one.

When Yin and Yang are joined in proper measure, they can remain together in quiet detachment.

The Wuzhen Pian says: “Yin and Yang, alike in kind, respond to one another; when the two and eight are in balance, they naturally draw together.” When the true breath (the subtle, continuous breathing of inner cultivation) flows without interruption, Yin and Yang naturally come into harmony. When the mind is empty and Shen is gathered, with thoughts pure and undistracted, Yin and Yang naturally abide together.

The Azure Dragon (symbolizing the Qi of eastern Wood) is positioned at the sixth degree of the Fang lunar mansion, while spring Qi flourishes in the eastern Mao position. The White Tiger (symbolizing the Qi of western Metal) is positioned at the seventh degree of the Mao lunar mansion, while autumn Qi appears in the western You position. The Vermilion Bird (symbolizing the Qi of southern Fire) is positioned at the second degree of the Zhang lunar mansion, while the Qi of pure Yang resides in the southern Wu position. The three come together like relatives gathering as one family. At the root there are only two things, but at the end they develop into three and five. Three and five combine and return to one, ultimately converging in the same place. Refine them according to the method described above, and let the number of days follow the appropriate season.

The celestial circuit—the region of the sky occupied by the twenty-eight lunar lodges—is divided into twenty-eight lodges. The seven eastern lodges are called the Azure Dragon, and the seven western lodges the White Tiger. The celestial circuit is also divided into twelve sectors. The central section of the three eastern sectors is called Great Fire, and the central section of the three western sectors is called Great Beam.

Great Fire lies in the middle of the three eastern sectors. In the Earthly Branches it corresponds to Mao, in the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) to Zhen, in the four seasons to spring, and in the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) to Wood. The Fang Lodge spans six degrees and lies exactly within Great Fire; hence the saying, “The Azure Dragon rests at Fang six.” This corresponds to spring, the Zhen position, and the eastern Mao sector. Great Beam lies in the middle of the three western sectors. In the Earthly Branches it corresponds to You, in the Bagua to Dui, in the four seasons to autumn, and in the Five Phases to Metal. The Mao Lodge spans seven degrees and lies exactly within Great Beam; hence the saying, “The White Tiger is at Mao seven.” This corresponds to autumn, the Dui position, and the western You sector.

“The Vermilion Bird is at Zhang two” means that the Zhang Lodge lies in the south and symbolizes the Vermilion Bird. The south corresponds to pure Yang, the Li trigram, and the Wu position. The Zhang Lodge spans eighteen degrees. The text singles out “two” because, when the celestial sphere of 365 degrees is divided into two equal halves starting from the space between the Xu and Wei lodges, the first degree of Wei lies directly opposite the second degree of the southern Zhang Lodge.

The vital energies of the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, and Vermilion Bird directions all converge at the position of the Black Tortoise. Fang six and Mao seven correspond to the completion numbers of Water and Fire; Zhang two and Wei one correspond to their generating numbers. When these energies meet, they draw together like members of one family.

At its root, alchemical practice uses only Water and Fire. As Water and Fire circulate within the cauldron, they appear as the numbers three and five; here, three and five refer to Fang six, Mao seven, and Zhang two. Once the energies of the three families have joined, they return together to Wei one, where they form the “infant,” a term in Neidan (internal alchemy) symbolizing the successful formation of the elixir.

To cultivate the Great Elixir, follow the methods and procedures described above. Wait for the moment of “one Yang”—when Yang energy first arises—before advancing the Fire. Its wondrous operation begins in the space between the Xu and Wei lodges.

It first appears white, then turns yellow, and finally red fills it through and through. This is called the “First Cauldron,” the initial stage of the alchemical process. What is refined is as small as a large millet grain.

The changing colors describe visions that arise during the alchemical process. At first, it is like jade liquid scattering through the air; then it seems as though snowflakes gradually melt into golden liquid, filling the original furnace. The red that fills it through and through describes numinous radiance and spirit fire seeming to illuminate heaven and earth, while wind, thunder, clouds, and mist fill the mountains and rivers. In the “Nine Turns of Fire Timing,” the method of managing the alchemical fire in stages, this is the first turn. “As small as a large millet grain” means the elixir has just begun to congeal and is only millet-sized.

All of this forms naturally; it is neither deluded nor contrived.

In cultivating the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, immortals have always said that one should follow nature. Since the teaching speaks of “nature,” it may seem that there should be no methods or oral instructions, and that simply letting things take their natural course is enough. Why, then, is a master’s guidance needed? In fact, that is not the case.

The method of Golden Elixir cultivation is exceedingly simple. Its wondrous effects do not depend on deliberate contrivance or subjective thought, which is why it is called “natural.” Yet in practice one must still gather in the gaze and hearing, and settle the spirit within. The breath should be slow, gentle, and continuous, neither hurried nor sluggish, and never interrupted. Only then can the spirit return to the Qi, the spirit and Qi unite, and a foetus take shape. This does not come about by simply letting nature take its course.

The Jing of the Golden Wall and Cinnabar Dragon says, “The key to the natural is to attend first, then forget.” To attend first and forget afterward means first to settle the spirit in the Qi cavity—the place within where the spirit is held during inner cultivation—and then gradually let go of deliberate attention. Through this practice, the spirit naturally becomes still, Qi naturally gathers, and the breath naturally steadies. This does not mean emptying the mind until it is like dead wood and cold ashes. Seeking only to quiet the mind and enter stillness may lead one into a state of emptiness and quiescence, but that alone cannot be called cultivation of the true Dao. The Treatise on Pointing to the Mysterious says, “The effects of the natural must, paradoxically, be sought beyond the natural.” This is what it means.

When the time is ripe and the breath changes, the Qi mechanism stirs and a faint sound arises. Even while following nature, the process still includes instructions for cooking and refining, such as advancing the fire. In Neidan, “advancing the fire” means guiding the process of refinement according to the right timing. The Wuzhen pian says, “At the outset of cultivation, there must be deliberate action, which people can readily perceive. When one reaches the realm of non-action, everyone recognizes its marvel. People see only the subtlety of non-action; how could they know that deliberate action is its foundation?” Those who study the Elixir Way but do not yet understand the deliberate work required at the beginning, and rush instead to pursue natural non-action, are like people who neither plow nor weed yet sit waiting for a harvest.

Water vapour rises from the mountains and marshes, ascends into clouds, and then turns to rain.

When rain falls across the world, clouds rise among the mountains and rivers. Everyone knows this phenomenon, but people may not understand that rain falling from the sky is in fact formed through the transformation of the vapors of mountains and marshes. These vapors rise and billow up to the heavens, becoming clouds; when the Qi of Yin and Yang mingles and harmonizes, rain takes shape. Once formed, it falls back to the earth. The operation of the Golden Elixir within me is no different. Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for the Joining of the Three), used this phenomenon as an analogy to guide later students—a remarkably ingenious choice.

When the moisture in earth is exhausted, it becomes dust; when a fire goes out, it turns to ash.

Mud is earth containing water. Heavy and sluggish by nature, it originally lies low. After exposure to the sun, its moisture is exhausted; as the earth dries and cracks, it becomes dust. Fire is empty and luminous. It depends on wood to burn, producing smoke and flame; when the smoke disperses and the flame cools, the nature of fire disappears, and the embers turn to ash. Only after understanding these phenomena can one discuss the principles of Yin-Yang’s cycles of transformation.

Dyeing with cork tree bark produces yellow, while dyeing with indigo produces green; boiling animal hides makes glue, and fermenting with wine starter makes wine. When materials are of the same kind, the process readily succeeds. When they are incompatible, even the greatest skill may have little effect.

The Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) says: “Using things of different kinds is ultimately futile; better to use true lead, in accord with the essential secret of the sacred Way.” This means that when true mercury encounters true lead, their Qi and natures respond to one another, and they can wondrously unite and congeal, like a husband and wife paired together. Thus it says, “When things of the same kind join, the work is easily accomplished; when they are not of the same kind, no amount of skill can make it succeed.”

The Wuzhen pian also uses cork tree bark dyeing yellow, indigo dyeing green, hides made into glue, and wine starter made into wine to show that when things of the same kind join, they come naturally to fruition without being forced. If one sets aside suitable materials and seeks something else, it is like using things that do not belong together: the effort will be wasted.

This wondrous method must be examined carefully; it contains no deception. It will be passed down for countless ages, clear and unmistakable, and open to verification. It shines like stars arrayed across the Milky Way and gleams like the many rivers flowing into the sea.

How many are there among the world’s various heterodox arts and minor techniques? More than three thousand six hundred, perhaps. Only this one is a treasure bestowed by Heaven: the Great Luo Flying Immortal (a high-ranking transcendent in Daoism), the Ninefold Reversion of the Great Return Elixir of Golden Liquids (an important method of Daoist alchemy), and the wondrous method of stillness, purity, and Wuwei (non-action). Its practice is exceedingly simple: even ordinary men and women can follow it to transcend the common world and enter the sacred realm. For this reason, Heaven’s prohibitions are severe, and this method must not be casually passed on to unsuitable people. Those in the world who study and seek the Dao will find it difficult to encounter unless they have the right affinities from past lives.

Perfected Wei Boyang did not keep Heaven’s bestowed treasure secret. Instead, he set it down in these three books. Every sentence is clear and carefully considered; every word is precise and apt. Their radiance is evident, like the orderly courses of the stars, and their teachings are as clear and trustworthy as rivers flowing into the sea. They are truly an important guide for later generations who aspire to become immortals. The Finger Pointing to the Mysterious says: “How many passages in the scriptures—every sentence is a true teaching. They have been handed down only to guide those with the capacity to receive them.” The Understanding Through Realization says: “It is not that the Great Dao and the immortals are unwilling to share; it is simply that worldly people are not single-minded in their aspirations.”

Some, however, believe the words of blind teachers—those who lack true understanding and mislead people in their practice—and rashly claim that the immortals speak falsehoods. Would immortals deceive people? The ancient perfected ones left alchemical books among the living precisely to guide later students. Their discussions are clear and can be examined: those who have not yet understood may study from them, while those who have understood may use them to confirm their realization. Most people who attained the Dao in ancient times did just this.

Liu Haichan said that he had traveled freely through grotto-heavens, sought out immortal scriptures everywhere, and, fortunately, had not broken his pledge; at last he fulfilled his aspiration. Yang Xubai said that he had journeyed throughout famous mountains and scenic places, seeking profound secrets and marvelous arts, while devoting himself continually to study. Chen Momo said that he had read widely among the books, visited eminent adepts, and traveled almost everywhere. Looking back on what he had gained, he found that it all accorded with the classics of the sages. From this we can see that no one has attained the Dao by clinging only to personal opinions and never seeking out fellow practitioners, or by holding only to a teacher’s words and never reading alchemical books.

Shi Qizhen put it well: people of the highest capacity in ancient times first read widely in alchemical books, then sought out fellow practitioners everywhere. They tested their understanding against one another’s principles, and none of those they consulted held a different view. They sought the Dao with sincerity, and the teachers they bowed to were not reckless charlatans. How can later students of the Dao disregard the classics entirely just because the formulas are not written on paper? If someone claims to possess secret instructions handed down by a teacher, with accounts of ingredients and firing times that appear in no alchemical books, ancient or modern, and are never mentioned in the Cantong qi, then that person is simply a charlatan.

Reflect on this classic again and again, and make sure you know it thoroughly. Compare passages across the text and study them repeatedly, thousands of times; its meaning and structure will then become clear. Read it tens of thousands of times, and you will be able to write down what you have understood. To insist that the Cantong qi says something that is not in the book is to speak falsely.

Reflect on this classic again and again, and make sure you know it thoroughly. Compare passages across the text and study them thousands, even tens of thousands of times; in time, you will gain insight. The divine intelligence—whether understood as spirits or as an inner luminosity—may at times seem to offer guidance, and the human mind may suddenly grasp what had been unclear. Trace things back to their beginnings and follow their clues, and you will surely find a way to enter.

As the saying goes, “Read a book a hundred times, and its meaning will appear.” If this is true of a hundred readings, how much more so of thousands or tens of thousands? Read it aloud ten thousand times, then, and its subtle principles will naturally become clear. Even without having yet received the master’s oral instructions, in time you should be able to understand them for yourself. Such insights often come late at night or while sitting quietly: concentrate, reflect carefully, and build up enough experience through repeated study, and suddenly everything will fall into place. This is what is meant by saying that the divine intelligence seems to offer guidance and the mind suddenly understands on its own.

The Guanzi says: “Think, and think again; then think yet again. If it still does not make sense, even the spirits will make it understood.” This is not the power of spirits. It means that thought has reached the utmost degree of focus and sincerity. In recent times, Zhang Ziyang—the Northern Song Daoist Zhang Boduan—gave the Wuzhen pian to the Attendant Gentleman Ma Chuhou of Fufeng and told him, “I hope you will circulate this book. Among those who read it, some will come to understand its deeper meaning through the text.” In his preface, he therefore says that the Wuzhen pian fully explains the medicines used in the Great Elixir, the firing times—the timing and progression of cultivation—and all their subtle essentials. If those who aspire to the Dao already have an affinity for becoming immortals, this book will clarify their thinking, enabling them to follow its words and grasp its principles. Zhang Ziyang’s repeated encouragement of later students had the same purpose as that of Wei Boyang, traditionally honored as the author of the Cantong qi. The claim that divine intelligence offers guidance and the mind gains insight does, in the end, have a real basis. Otherwise, why would these two masters have written such solemn words, merely to deceive people in their own time and generations to come?

The Dao of Heaven shows no partiality and favors no fixed course; it always transmits to those of virtue.

Tan Jingsheng passed the Book of Transformation to Song Qiqiu. Song killed Jingsheng, seized his book, and falsely claimed it as his own work. Before long, he too met a bad end. This is an example of transmitting the Dao to someone unfit to receive it, bringing calamity upon both parties. Wu Shiyun passed the Dao to Xu Jingyang. Xu Jingyang received the highest Dao from the Lady of Chen, then later passed it on to Wu Shiyun. In the end, both succeeded in cultivating the Dao. This is an example of transmitting the Dao to a suitable person, bringing blessings to both.

Heaven’s Dao favors no one, yet it often looks kindly upon the good. If the recipient is unfit, the Dao will not be passed on without cause. Can the virtue or lack of virtue of those who teach and receive not bring different fortunes and misfortunes? Alas, the ways of the age are not what they once were; each generation declines further than the last. I have not yet encountered a truly good person. If I could still meet someone who keeps to the constant Dao and stands firm in integrity, that would be enough.

Song of the Cauldron Vessel (a verse describing the vessel used in alchemical practice)

“Circumference three-five, diameter one-tenth.”

The circumference is three, and the diameter is one. The cauldron here refers to the precious vessel of the human body. Within it, the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—each occupy their place, and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), the five basic forces that compose all things, move through it. The elements referred to in alchemical terms such as lead, mercury, and earth are also all within it. The Scripture of the Hidden Talisman says, “From this vessel arise the myriad forms”; it speaks of the body. All the mysteries of Golden Elixir cultivation depend on it. To think that the cauldron vessel is outside oneself, in another person, is contrary to the path of quiet cultivation.

The part symbolized by the mouth is four cun and eight fen wide. “Four and eight” means that the Four Symbols and the Eight Trigrams are all contained within it. “Two cun of lips” means that the upper and lower boundaries are clearly distinguished, forming the pattern of the Two Modes of Yin and Yang.

The cauldron is one chi and two cun long, with an even thickness throughout. Its length corresponds to the twelve months of the year. The body and belly of the cauldron should be even from top to bottom, without tilting to either side.

Keep the abdomen upright, and regulate the breath gently while sitting in meditation. Let the eyes align with the nose, and the nose with the navel; keep the body straight and balanced, without leaning. The eyes should be half open and lowered, not completely closed, since closing them fully can lead to dullness. The breath should flow evenly and freely through the nose, without becoming rough or heavy. Heavy breathing makes the firing process too intense, and when the fire is too strong, the ingredients—the Jing and Qi used in Neidan cultivation—can easily dissipate.

Yin is above, and Yang moves downward. With Yin above and Yang below, Water and Fire are in harmony. The Treatise on Returning to the Source says: “There is fire in the Sagara Sea, and waves on Mount Kunlun.” This means that there is fire in water and waves on a mountain, showing that Water and Fire can work in harmony. The key to achieving this lies in the use of the “Yellow Matron,” a symbol of the mediating force that harmonizes Yin and Yang. Without the Yellow Matron’s mediation, water continues to flow downward and fire continues to rise, making it difficult for the two to unite.

Use strong fire at the beginning and end, and gentle fire in the middle. The beginning and end correspond to the dark moon and new moon, while the middle corresponds to the full moon. At the dark and new moon, Yin reaches its extreme and Yang first emerges, so strong fire is used. At the full moon, Yang reaches its extreme and Yin first emerges, so gentle fire is used. The dark moon, new moon, and full moon are metaphors, however, and should not be calculated from their literal meanings alone.

Beginning from seventy and ending after three xun (two hundred and sixty days), the firing process should be regulated evenly. “Three xun” means thirty days. Seventy, thirty, and two hundred and sixty combine and resolve into “three,” which is why gentle fire is prescribed here. The dark moon, new moon, and full moon remain metaphors, however, and should not be interpreted from their literal meanings alone.

There are thirty days in a month, and seven periods of ten days together also make thirty days. Thirty, seventy, and two hundred sixty add up to three hundred sixty days, exactly matching the number of days in a solar year. After a hundred days of cultivation, when the days of practice have accumulated sufficiently, the sacred embryo—the internal Golden Elixir formed through cultivation—begins to stir with life. Once it has come to life, during the next two hundred sixty days, if one can regulate the breath and the firing process so that warm Qi continues without interruption, the Elixir work will naturally be completed. The Cui Xu Pian says: “During the warming and nurturing, one must constantly preserve, protect, and sustain it, letting the Xun wind—the wind that symbolizes breathing and the breath—blow in from the Kan. Whether walking, sitting, lying down, or eating, maintain an ordinary, natural state. The only concern is that the firing process might grow cold, slowing the Elixir’s power; beyond this, there is no difficulty.”

“Yin fire, white and yellow sprout lead”:

From the Zi hour to the Si hour is the period of Yang fire; from the Wu hour to the Hai hour is the period of Yin fire. You is in the west, and the west corresponds to Metal, so it is called “Yin fire, white.” The Wuzhen Pian says, “The toad’s light shines all day over the western stream,” referring to this. Lead is produced in earth, and silver is produced from lead. Silver refined from lead congeals into the “yellow sprout,” which is called true lead. The Jinbi Longhu Jing says, “Refine lead to seek the yellow color,” referring to the same matter.

“Two sevens gather to assist and support the human”:

The “two sevens” refer to the seven lodges of the Azure Dragon in the east and the seven lodges of the White Tiger in the west; “the human” refers to the human position at the center. “Two sevens gather to assist and support the human” means that Dragon and Tiger unite and converge at the center. In this way, they are like Shu of the Southern Sea and Hu of the Northern Sea meeting in the land of Hundun. Yin and Yang join, and through this union the Elixir is refined. The Wuzhen Pian says, “When the three families meet, they form an infant,” and also, “The Five Phases must all enter the center.” These lines express precisely this meaning.

“Regulate and order the brain, and ascent to the mysterious is secured”:

The brain is the upper field, where the original Shen resides. If a person can gather and contain the original Shen, allowing it to rest securely in its own palace, true Qi will rise and the breathing will settle. This is what is meant by saying that when one aperture opens, a hundred apertures open together; when one great pass becomes clear, a hundred passes all become clear. In refining the Elixir, both entering through the mouth after shedding the embryo and emerging after the work is complete depend on this process. The Jingzhong Yin says: “I cultivated Kunlun and obtained the true secret; day after day I practiced without interruption. Once the work was complete, others knew nothing of it; all around me became a palace of night-bright light.” This says that cultivation requires long accumulation and sufficient effort; it cannot be completed in a single day.

“Secure and preserve what is obtained in the center at the Zi position”:

An infant in the womb can remain safe and well only through the devoted nurturing of the Mother Kun, which symbolizes the receptive force that nourishes all things.

In its comings and goings, it never leaves the gateway. Here, “gateway” refers to the Gate of the Mysterious Female, the root of life and the vital passage through which Qi enters and leaves in Daoist thought. “Comings and goings” refers to the movement of the breath. When the breath stays within the Gate of the Mysterious Female, the Qi of Yin-Yang becomes abundant, and Shen and Qi naturally flow freely.

As cultivation gradually deepens, one’s nature and temperament become pure and unified. In walking, standing, sitting, and lying down, the breath continues without interruption, seeming to be present yet leaving no trace. Day by day, the embryonic Qi gradually gathers. Once it has congealed, the image of the infant appears, and one’s nature and temperament become ever more refined.

The foundation of cultivating the Great Elixir is simply to embrace the Origin and guard the One. At the beginning of cultivation, one works with Yin-Yang and the Five Phases; in the end, one returns to undifferentiated primordial emptiness. This is called “returning to the One and restoring the Origin.”

During a year of cultivation in seclusion, one must practice diligently morning and evening, cherishing and revering the Dao one cultivates as a minister serves a ruler.

Reaching the One requires great effort. The Treatise on Returning to the Golden Elixir says, “Joy may be enjoyed for a thousand or ten thousand kalpas; hardship need last only a year or two.” Since ancient times, no one has ascended to immortality from the ground without first enduring a year of arduous cultivation in seclusion. The Song of the Great Dao of the Numinous Source says that once the work is complete, one can roam freely, but at the outset cultivation must be diligent and demanding. Even amid hardship, one must know how to remain composed and still, at ease and untroubled, devoting oneself only to nurturing the Original Shen. These words are deeply meaningful.

In cultivation, one must be cautious and alert, never sunk in dullness or confusion. The Cui Xu Treatise says that by day one sets the numinous banner in motion, and by night one tends the firing process; one must take particular care with withdrawing and adding, advancing and retreating. Without a like-minded companion to remind and correct you, you may awaken to find that the firing process in the furnace has gone awry. As one’s Daoist attainment grows, temptations may grow as well. During every moment of cultivation, dullness and confusion are to be avoided above all; practitioners should remain clear-minded at all times.

The path of cultivation is long, deep, and mysterious. Those who grasp its principles can reach through Heaven and Earth.

To move within the “Mysterious Female” (the Daoist gate where Yin and Yang meet and bring forth life) and travel 84,000 li in a single day—is that not a very long journey? In truth, it is so vast that it has no bounds, yet so small that it has no interior. Face it, and you cannot see where it begins; follow it, and you cannot see where it ends. Is this not utterly profound and mysterious? Those who understand this principle can guide the transformations of nature and harmonize Yin-Yang, bringing together the Qian and Kun within themselves—that is, the inner aspects of body and mind that symbolize Yin and Yang.

A trace of the elixir stills the ethereal soul

“Knife-tip measure” refers to the initial portion of the elixir; “ethereal soul” refers to the Dragon and Tiger, alchemical terms for the Qi of Yin and Yang. Carry them up to the summit of Kunlun Peak, which refers to the crown of the head or a corresponding place within the body, and refine them into jade nectar. Then let the nectar flow into the mouth. The body will become as calm as windless water: the Tiger will lie still, the Dragon will descend, and the Qi of Yin and Yang will settle.

Attain long life and dwell in an immortal village

Once the elixir has been refined, one can roam freely, without constraint, at ease as one’s Dao practice grows ever deeper. Whether in the mountains and forests, at court, or among the people, one can withdraw from the world and cultivate the Dao. Wei Boyang, author of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), does not say “dwelling at court or in the marketplace,” but instead says “dwelling in an immortal village.” After all, mountains and forests are better suited to quiet cultivation.

Those who delight in the Dao seek its root

Here, “root” refers to the foundation of Heaven and Earth, and also to the basis of Golden Elixir cultivation. The Cui Xu Pian says: “Once you recognize where the elixir’s foundation lies, all gathering and releasing, all application, remain within it. Without guidance from a perfected person, few could recognize it.” Those who love the Dao and its arts are truly fortunate if they can find this root.

Examine the Five Phases and set the exact measure

The Five Phases proceed in their normal sequence to bring forth the myriad things. Golden Elixir cultivation, however, applies them in reverse, so its methods must be examined with care. The Cui Xu Pian likewise says that once the elixir’s foundation is known, all gathering, releasing, and application lie within it; without guidance from an adept, ordinary people find it difficult to grasp.

The Five Phases, proceeding in their normal sequence, generate the human body; reversed, they are used to refine the elixir. Their methods must be carefully understood. If the fire is too strong, it becomes harsh and scorching; if there is too much water, it overflows. The strength of the fire and the amount of water must therefore be measured precisely.

Ponder it closely; there is no need to discuss it. Keep it hidden and do not pass on the text

The Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) says: “Recently, golden light has appeared throughout the body; I will not tell ordinary people these rules.” One should quietly contemplate this Dao. It is a method secretly transmitted by sages through the generations. Once received, it is enough to keep it in one’s heart, cultivate it, and experience it oneself. Why reveal it carelessly or tell others indiscriminately? Yet if one looks only after oneself, one may preserve one’s own life, but how should one care for the people of the world and those who come after? This is precisely why the Cantong qi was written and passed down.

Riding a white crane and borne on dragon scales, one roams through the heavens, pays a visit to the Immortal Lord, receives talismans and registers—the credentials of command bestowed by Daoist teachers on practitioners—and earns the title “Perfected Person.” Once the cultivation of the embryo’s primal essence is complete and one’s deeds and practice are fulfilled, one must still regulate and nourish the spirit, allowing spiritual awareness to leave the body. One may ride a white crane or a fire dragon, pass beyond the barriers of the Three Realms, and reach the Primordial Heaven, the highest celestial realm in Daoist belief. From then on, one is free and joyful, sharing the Heaven’s life span, and is called a “Perfected Person.”

Yet every image that can be seen or spoken of is impermanent and unreal. Where could there truly be a white crane or dragon scales? If one takes them to be an external Buddha or immortal, one only loses one’s own original nature. And where is the Immortal Lord waiting outside to be visited? One should understand that the white crane and dragon scales are transformations manifested by one’s own spiritual awareness, while the Immortal Lord is the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), revered in Daoism, within one’s own nature. Why keep looking outward?

Some people do not understand this principle and spend day and night foolishly waiting for an edict from the heavenly court. Stories even spread of people being carried off by black tigers or swallowed by giant serpents. How pitiful! A man in the state of Song dug a well and uncovered the labor of one person; as the story passed from mouth to mouth, it became “someone emerged from the earth.” Xu Jingyang, a legendary Daoist immortal, attained the Dao with his whole family, but later generations claimed they had lifted the entire roof of their house and flown into the clouds. This is how far people’s taste for the strange and fantastic can go.

These principles can be explained to the wise, but they are difficult to make clear to ordinary people. Only those of understanding can grasp words that accord with reason and put them into practice by following De. The foolish, however, turn around and call me a liar. Where can I find someone perceptive and flexible, who can understand, so that I may explain these principles fully to them? Ah!

The Cantong qi presents the main ideas only in broad outline. Its treatment is not consistent throughout: at times it ranges widely without explaining the subtle details, while elsewhere it is terse and obscure. So I have rewritten it, supplied what was missing, and clarified its profound and difficult passages, bringing its parts into harmony and making its intent consistent, without contradiction among the principles it explains. For this reason I have written this book and titled it The Three in Accord. In this way, the patterns and principles of things revealed by the Zhouyi can be fully explained.

“Can” means three, “tong” means the same, and “qi” means to accord or correspond. This book uses the Zhouyi to explain the teachings of Huang-Lao, and compares them with the methods of the alchemical furnace and fire. The three deal, in broad terms, with the same transformations of Yin-Yang and principles of creation. Wei Boyang, the author of the Cantong qi, took pity on later students who could not understand these principles, and wrote this book in the hope of explaining them thoroughly.

“Can” means to participate or join; “tong” means to be the same; and “qi” means to correspond or fit together. The Cantong qi (The Seal of the Unity of the Three) draws on the Yijing to explain the teachings of Huangdi and Laozi, and also discusses the firing process of alchemical refinement. The three subjects it addresses—the changes of Yin-Yang and the principles of creation and transformation—are connected. Wei Boyang feared that later students would not understand, so he wrote this book to outline the Great Dao. Yet he was concerned that the subtle workings of Heaven should not be revealed in full. Rather than explaining the principles outright, he drew on many sources, used examples and metaphors, and developed his explanations at length. He also feared that a brief account could not cover the finer points, so he added the “Song of the Cauldron and Vessels” at the end. What the main text leaves out can be supplied by the song, and the song also clarifies its most profound ideas. In this way, the three sections are interlinked and their meanings echo one another, in the hope that later readers will find a path into the subject and stay on course in their practice.

The Cui Xu Pian says: “The essential point of the Great Dao is to nurture that one thing from within nonbeing. There is also a clear and true key to it. Because Heaven’s secrets are subtle yet simple, they are scattered through the alchemical books and not readily disclosed.” Wei Boyang explains and elaborates on the subject again and again, and his intention was probably much the same. Otherwise, the essentials of the Great Elixir could be conveyed in a sentence or two. Why explain them at such length?

The Yijing describes the conditions and natures of things, each following its own principles. The teachings of Huangdi and Laozi investigate those principles, making it possible to grasp and apply them. The art of alchemical refinement by fire, too, has a basis. These three paths all begin from the same fundamental principle and lead toward the same way.

The Dao is everywhere and can be embodied in all things. Three sages composed the Yijing according to the principles governing things. Huangdi and Laozi investigated their mysteries and developed alchemical methods. The art of refinement by fire draws on the patterns of change and makes them into methods of firing. These principles are recorded in books, put into practice through personal cultivation, or embodied in material objects. All of them arise from observing Heaven and Earth and examining Yin-Yang, understanding the rules by which Yin and Yang combine, then taking guidance from things both near and far and applying what is learned to understand the transformations of creation. From this came the three paths. Though their routes differ, they ultimately converge, which is why they are connected.

Branches, stems, flowers, leaves, and fruit may grow and spread in profusion, but their foundation remains the tree’s roots; they must not lose their source. Words spoken with sincerity, when carefully examined, will not be mistaken.

The Dao is the root of all things, like the root of a tree. From the root, the Dao grows into branches and trunks, giving rise to the studies of the Yi expounded by the three sages. The branches then spread into flowers and leaves, giving rise to methods of refining elixirs over the furnace fire. At last, these bear fruit and return to their original source. This is the principle by which the learning of Huang and Lao—the Daoist thought that honors the Yellow Emperor and Laozi—preserves its original nature, cultivates the Golden Elixir within the body, and nurtures the sacred embryo, a term in internal alchemy for the original Shen or the sign that the elixir has been formed. Wei Boyang compared these three in a balanced account. He did not make his words weighty and elaborate for their own sake; he sought to help students grasp Yin-Yang transformation thoroughly and understand the workings of natural creation in depth. His account came from sincere intent and careful study, and contains no error.

Wei Boyang called himself “a humble man of the state of Kuai” and “a withered old man of a secluded valley,” describing himself as an ignorant, declining old man in a remote mountain valley. He cherished simplicity and had no desire for power or wealth. Living far from the world, he paid no heed to fame or profit, kept only to a tranquil and peaceful life, and wrote this book in retirement. Master Wei was born in the Eastern Han. His name was Boyang, his courtesy name was Yunya Zi, and he came from Shangyu County in Kuaiji Commandery. Calling him a man of “the state of Kuai” here is an indirect way of concealing his true identity. He was in fact the son of a prominent family whose members had served as officials for generations, but he refused to enter public service and devoted himself to cultivating the Dao, quietly tending his inner resolve.

Wei Boyang was widely learned and well versed in the literary traditions of heavenly portents and prognostications. He remained detached from worldly concerns and true to his nature, devoting himself wholly to the Dao. In his eyes, ornate carriages and official robes were no more than chaff, unworthy of attachment. No one knows from which teacher he received the secrets of the Great Elixir. Drawing on the Zhouyi, he wrote the three parts of the Cantong qi. Fearing he had not said all that was needed, he then composed the Song of the Crucible and Vessel to supply what the three parts had left out and to refine their profound, hidden principles. He secretly passed the work to Xu Jingxiu, an official in Qingzhou. Xu concealed his name and wrote a commentary on the book. During the reign of Emperor Huan of Han, the book was passed to Chunyu Shutong, a fellow native of the same commandery, and only later became known to the world.

This book sets out the essential principles of the Dao, reveals the secrets of nature, and presents its arguments with precision and rigor, while explaining them broadly and thoroughly. This shows that Wei Boyang not only understood these principles but also put them into practice himself. Yet he still called himself a “humble man” and a “withered old man.” Those who have attained the Dao are modest and do not show themselves; this is generally what they are like.

The Explanation of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) presents the teachings left by the three sages of the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) and shows that their central meaning points to the same principle: act in accord with the natural order, so that the spirit becomes clear and change flows freely, bringing peace to all under Heaven. Set these principles into a calendar, and later generations can follow them in sequence; apply them to government, and there is no need for complexity; use them to cultivate body and mind, and they can nurture one’s nature. Those of deep De (Virtue and Power) can return to the source and recover their origin. The principle is in one’s own heart and never apart from oneself. Hold fast to the One—that is, remain devoted to the Dao—and do not readily abandon it; then it can endure.

The text also discusses methods of taking elixirs and refining pills, emphasizing the matching of Yin-Yang and male and female, and the use of materials such as lead and mercury. In this way, materials such as the eight minerals produced in Wudu can be eliminated. If the ingredients are selected carefully and refined, yellow and white substances can be produced, becoming things treasured by the world. These teachings are set out in three branches, whose lines are connected. Though their names differ, they all come from one source.

Fuxi created the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), and later they were doubled to form the sixty-four hexagrams. King Wen of Zhou established the hexagram images, observed their signs, and wrote texts for the hexagrams and their lines to explain good and ill fortune. Confucius then composed the Ten Wings to interpret them. All of this was intended to accord with the patterns of nature and life, and to connect with the principles governing the movements of Heaven and Earth. Thus, when the principles of the Yi are applied to the calendar, they are clear and comprehensible, and later generations can follow them; applied to government, they offer a simple method that can serve as a standard for rulers through the ages. The significance of the Dao of the Yi is indeed vast.

The Yellow Emperor observed the Dao of Heaven and acted in accordance with it; Laozi possessed deep De and was as pure as an infant. The more than three hundred characters of the Yinfu Jing and the more than five thousand words of the Daode Jing repeatedly explain the mysteries of natural transformation. For this reason, those who practice the arts of elixir cultivation in the world must honor the Yellow Emperor and Laozi as their ancestral masters. As for the method of taking and refining elixirs, once one grasps the subtle principle of matching Yin-Yang, lead and mercury can be subdued and transformed. Certain yellow minerals should first be removed, and the remaining minerals can also be discarded. With careful selection and firing, yellow or white substances can be produced, becoming things treasured by the world. This shows how extraordinary the furnace-fire method of elixir making is.

The Zhouyi, the teachings of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, and furnace-fire alchemy each unfold in their own way, yet are connected to one another. Though their names differ, they arise from the same source. This is what is meant by “the three are related.”

This passage does not merely pile up words and phrases or prize parallelism to make the writing look ornate. It likely contains real principles. Its language is plain and clear, and deserves careful attention. If Wei Boyang, traditionally regarded as the author of the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three), used falsehoods to deceive later generations, then even someone with only a slight understanding of principle would refuse to do such a thing. Would Wei Boyang really have done it? Moreover, Heaven sees all, and fortune or misfortune soon follows. Why, then, use lies to mislead the world and generations to come, bringing upon oneself the crime of deceiving Heaven?

The “Song of the Cauldron and Vessels” (Dingqi ge), a mnemonic verse about alchemical implements and related principles, was written to fill gaps left by the first three sections and to explain more clearly their hidden and difficult meanings. Though each line has only three characters and appears brief, its meaning is broad and complete, almost all-encompassing. It is indeed plain and clear, allowing readers to understand and put it into practice. If later students cannot take it as trustworthy, where else should they turn?

Respond to the times and avoid harm; dwell among the mountains and forests, moving through vast and empty realms, with ghosts and spirits for neighbors. Transform the body and become an immortal, returning to stillness and silence. Even after a hundred generations, one may still roam among humankind. Spread your wings and fly east, west, and south. King Tang faced hardship, beset in turn by floods and droughts; branches and leaves withered, and flowers lost their color. All things endure by bearing one another and relying on one another; only then can they remain secure and last.

This is the concealed message Wei Boyang composed from three characters. Place “wei” above “ghost” and they combine to form “Wei.” Add a horizontal stroke beneath “hundred” to make “white,” then combine it with “person” to form “Bo.” When “soup” meets a severe drought and has no water, it signifies that “Yang” is in distress. Add the “city” radical to “distress,” and combine the result with “Yang”; this points to “Yang.” Wei Boyang’s intention was exceedingly cryptic.

During the Yuanfeng era, when Lü Jifu was governor of Shanzhou, Lü Dongbin went to the Tianqing Abbey to ask for brush and ink, and wrote two poems. One of them said: “I am a hermit who came from Tiantai; my home lies south of the stone bridge. Father and son were born with just two mouths between them; we love to sing, but not to keep the beat.”

At the time, Lü Jifu’s son-in-law Yu Zhong explained: “‘Guest from Tiantai’ alludes to ‘Bin,’ and ‘stone bridge’ alludes to ‘Dong.’ The two mouths together form ‘Lü.’ To sing without keeping the beat is to recite poetry. Could the person who composed this poem be none other than Lü Dongbin?”

From this we can see that when the immortals of ancient times wrote books and set forth their teachings, they sought only to clarify the Great Dao and guide later generations. They did not wish to reveal their names.

Preface of Praise

Although the Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) uses plain language, the principles it discusses are far-reaching. Its wording is restrained and concise, yet its meaning is profound. The text recounts how the Five Emperors of high antiquity established their undertakings, and compares the Three Sovereigns of legend to rulers governing their states. If the positions of ruler and minister are made too unequal, so that those above and below lose their proper order, governance cannot bring about peace.

Cultivating solely through methods of ingesting substances may not lead to longevity; focusing only on nourishing one’s nature may not extend one’s years. The author’s care is evident in the discussions of analyzing Yin-Yang and matching quantities as precisely as the ancient units of zhu and liang, describing the moon’s phases, using the Eight Trigrams to represent patterns, explaining the union of male and female and the movement of firmness and yielding, distinguishing rice from salt, and grounding the discussion in the Book of Changes. For this reason, a commentary was deliberately written and passed down to later scholars. Whoever understands the overall meaning revealed by the Changes trigrams can attain longevity and strengthen the self. Those who practice this Way should reflect on it carefully.

This piece, titled “Eulogy and Preface,” was written by later readers in praise of Wei Gong’s book. Phrases such as “therefore a commentary was written and passed on to worthy scholars of later generations” clearly do not come from Wei Gong himself. Zhu Huian (Zhu Xi) said that some called it a postface, while others called it “A Eulogy to Lord Wei.” Judging by its meaning, it should be a preface written after the commentary. The preface by Peng records that Wei Gong secretly entrusted the book to Xu Congshi of Qingzhou and asked him to annotate it; Xu Congshi concealed his name when he wrote the commentary. During the reign of Emperor Huan, the book was passed on to Chunyu Shutong, a fellow native of Wei Gong’s commandery, and only then began to circulate. Peng’s preface suggests that this piece was probably written by Xu Congshi, and that his annotated edition has since been lost.

Peng Zhenyi says that some Daoist books claim the three parts of the Cantong qi were written separately by Wei Gong, Xu Congshi, and Chunyu Shutong. This account is highly implausible. Wei Gong says in the text, “Now I have compiled it anew and filled in what was missing,” which shows that he wrote the entire work himself. When the Tang Daoist adept Liu Zhigu of Shu presented the Treatise on the Mysterious Pivot of the Sun and Moon to Emperor Xuanzong, he also discussed this matter in detail. The account that Xu Congshi wrote the commentary and Chunyu Shutong transmitted the book should therefore have some basis.

I have considered these accounts repeatedly, lamenting that so much time has passed and it is impossible to determine which is right. One night, as I sat quietly, someone seemed to whisper in my ear: “Wei Boyang wrote the Cantong qi, and Xu Congshi annotated it. The scrolls were arranged in disorder, which is why the work contains different forms, including four-character lines, five-character lines, and prose.” I awoke and thought carefully about what I had heard. It seemed to have some basis: both the upper and middle sections discuss Qian and Kun, Kan and Li, and Tun and Meng, and both address the numbers seven, eight, nine, and six. The upper section says, “Taking the days and hours as the time limit,” while the middle section says, “Carefully observe the days and hours.” The upper section says, “The Zhen trigram receives Geng Metal in the west,” while the middle section says, “Above the stars Mao and Bi, the Zhen trigram appears as a sign.” The text also discusses Wu and Ji with Hundun, the numbers three and five with Kan and Li, and Tun and Meng in ways that are similar.