《墉城集仙录》Vol. 2

One should not think too much, for excessive thought scatters the mind and will. If the mind and will are scattered, yet one still hopes to avoid illness, it is like shutting the gates to fend off a fierce enemy.” The Lady, an immortal in Daoist legend, had already attained Supreme Clarity (Taiqing), the Daoist realm of serene and sublime purity. She then discussed the “Nine Methods of Yuanzhi,” concerning nine arts associated with Yuanzhi, with Lord Baoming, an immortal, and said: “One should not think too much, for excessive thought scatters the mind and will. If the mind and will are scattered, yet one still hopes to avoid illness, it is like shutting the gates to fend off a fierce enemy.”

The Lady taught people the methods of taking elixirs and medicines, and prefaced them with these words:

In the realms of Morning Purity, Vast Origin, Gloomy Cavern, and Hidden Beginning, the Eight Qi had not yet mingled, and the subtle, numinous apertures had not yet opened. At that time, all things calmly beheld the boundless expanse of emptiness, followed their inborn nature, and rested securely in stillness and quietude. Thus the sound of pure harmony arose faintly, and a gentle, flowing breeze came with it. Sun and moon shone in turn, and the sky was clear and unobstructed.

The first signs of the emergence of all things arose before differentiation; their origins were all held within the hidden workings of change. Living beings returned to their original nature, and every kind of thing concealed its earliest root. If this is so, how can ten thousand years be called everlasting, while one merely strives to preserve an infant’s softness for a long time? Why exhaust the spirit probing the depths of divine transformation, or labor over strange and illusory arts of the world? The human body was never an instrument for attaining the true Dao, nor does it have the capacity to let its original nature act freely. One should therefore follow the guiding order of Heaven, gather and set in motion the vital essences of all things, plumb the subtle and seek out the Nine Celestial Orders, and through this establish life and behold the returning light of dawn.

Look up at the clouds: the Six Numinous Forces coil through the void. Look down at the Six Pitch-Pipes, the ancient system of musical tones: the Eight Winds surge with force. A roar from the Gloomy Cavern rings through the Great Void, and the rounded vault of Heaven reflects its radiance across the sky. Purple clouds gather; waves surge and mountains collapse; floating clouds envelop all things, and pure light scatters. The Qi of the Five Phases overcome one another, and the seasons turn in succession; Metal and Earth combine, while Water and Fire clash. Plants and trees fall still, rivers are blocked, and thunder and lightning crisscross with crashing force, as Heaven and Earth split apart in every direction.

When the Way of Heaven is blocked, the calamity appears as the Yang Nine; when the Way of Earth is obstructed, the misfortune takes the form of the Hundred-Six. When the Qian hexagram reaches its limit, it enters the realm of excess and regret; at the sight of dragons clawing in a swarm, blood spills across the earth. At such a time, good and ill fortune collide and surge against one another, and every sign points to disaster: even those walking an open, level road may encounter darkness and distress; those dwelling in places of abundance and ease may not have everything go smoothly, and may still risk climbing to perilous heights.

If one acts with unrelenting haste, danger will follow, as though one were “carrying a corpse forward.” Traveling northeast means losing one’s companions, and regret will follow. If one tries to cross a great river but meets with misfortune, one should understand that one has fallen into peril, as if plunged into a deep well. These calamities arise when people lose their original nature, when all things and the self fall out of harmony, and when contention and turmoil multiply without end, until even spirits and ghosts seem to seize the chance to scheme.

The transformations of Heaven and Earth are never constant, yet the sage makes the wishes of the people his own. Thus the Most High Perfected One, a revered Daoist deity, took pity on the myriad beings of the world, beset by many disturbances. He opened a ferry across the netherworld, guided the worthy toward awakening, and taught methods for facing distant dangers and countless changes, so that people might learn to nurture life and regulate body and mind. Dwelling amid blessings and De, one can preserve one’s original nature; living amid harm leads to decline and premature death. Those who master the Six Qi—the natural energies of Yin, Yang, wind, rain, darkness, and light—can prolong their lives, while those who consume lingzhi mushrooms attain clarity of spirit and freedom of vitality.

Wondrous arts and profound methods of cultivation have been passed down in a realm of limpid emptiness and mystery. The Golden Palaces and jade registers, the celestial halls and jade books, were compiled at the Terrace of Weiyu. Deep, lilting songs of the immortals arise, and the radiance of the perfected spirits shines in interwoven beams. Chanting these verses enables one to ride the dawn light and ascend to Taiwei, a celestial region of stars; practicing these Daoist methods enables one to travel by flying chariot and roam the Nine Heavens. Riding in a splendid carriage, one passes through rosy clouds, then turns toward the Terrace of Wenchang, the heavenly palace associated with literary affairs.

Some cultivators use the furnace fire to refine the essence of cinnabar, grinding minerals and metals to produce purple elixir. The numinous Qi of langgan, a legendary precious jade, flourishes and glimmers; eight hues like lustrous jade rise and drift like clouds. Crimson elixir swirls and ripples, while the dragon embryo sounds within. Tiger foam, phoenix brain, cloud langgan, jade frost, Taiji Elixir Wine, Three-Ring Numinous Steel, and other elixirs need only be taken in a tiny dose to work; “knife-tip measure” was an ancient term for a small quantity of medicine.

The divine being spreads his wings and reads the ancient scriptures within the Empty Cavern, the Daoist realm of pure emptiness. The Chamber of the Origin, the celestial dwelling of the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning, gleams with splendor. The jade-like music of the immortals and their precious books come from the Palace of the Three Mysteries; the Three Primordials, the deities of the Daoist heavens, bestow their gifts. The immortal’s jeweled pendants ascend to the Chamber of Cinnabar Grove. The Lord on High offers a purple auspicious radiance, and the Most Perfect One bestows a flowing golden fire bell. The divine child opens the carriage, and nine phoenixes cry out together. Heavenly music weaves through the air as the morning bell rings clear and bright. The immortal rises to his feet; the Eight Radiances, auspicious lights borne by immortals, float in the sky, while dragon chariots and tiger banners follow. He receives, in turn, the gifts bestowed by the Three Primordials.

The divine youth draws aside the curtains of the carriage. Nine phoenixes cry out together, celestial music echoes through the sky, and the morning bell rings clear and melodious. The immortal rises to his feet and steadies the banners; the sights of the eight directions appear in the air. Dragon chariots, tiger banners, and ceremonial fans and canopies make their circuit through the four quarters. As they ascend, they reach the heights of Changyang; when they rest, they lodge in the Orchid Hall, where the light of the sky is reflected. The Moon Consort rides alongside, sunlight illuminating her face, while the numinous maidens bring bedding. Incense smoke drifts through the windows. With a glance backward, Yuanluo has already receded into the distance. What journey could be described as merely ninety thousand li? From this we can know that the path to the realm of the high immortals lies still higher, and the way of seeking the spirits is subtle and hard to fathom. When the arts of ingesting and riding are brought into accord with the divine, signs of good and ill fortune become clear.

Few can match these arts unless they have studied the methods of Master Wuying, the Jade Book of Huang-Lao, the thirty-nine chapters of the Great Cavern Perfect Scripture, and teachings such as “The Seven Primordial Stars of Huoluo” and “The Supreme Hidden Mystery.” There is also a lesser form of cultivation: concentrate the spirit and direct your thoughts, cherish and refine the Bright Hall, the spiritual chamber within the body, and each morning attune body and mind so that the spirit moves freely through the Six Emptinesses—the four directions above and below—and the Five Viscera come alive. Guard and seal the Primordial Pass, the aperture through which primordial Qi enters and leaves; visualize within yourself the Nine Perfected and Three Qi, and circulate the body’s fluids to nourish the Dantian (energy center).

If one sincerely wishes to keep distant from the mysterious Way, why prepare lavish offerings like the people of the eastern neighbor? One may also use five-cloud fungus, water cassia, atractylodes root, yellow essence, southern candle plant, yang herb, eastern stone, azurite, pine resin, arborvitae seeds, sesame, and poria. These are all substances for nourishing life, said to help prolong one’s years. I have also carefully examined the effects of various plants and found that they do indeed benefit people quickly. Yet their effects still fall short of the many wonders produced by the power of the arts.

In recent times, killing Qi has shrouded the sky, evil mists have blocked the sunlight, demons roam unchecked, and illnesses have followed one another: some are caused by wind and cold obstructing the body; others bring wandering swellings and accumulating masses. Sudden calamities and unexpected illnesses have occurred repeatedly of late. The Qi of the arts can halt the baleful influence of ghosts and demons, while inhaling and exhaling mist can subdue evil spirits. These practices can also strengthen the muscles and gather the souls, replenish blood and Qi, nourish the brain and marrow, drive away evil and summon true Qi, and guard Jing (essence) to preserve life. Taking these medicinal substances is said to make the body supple and nimble, the Qi and blood flourishing and flowing freely, and one’s movements light. Taking pills and powders can cure every illness and fill the Five Viscera with fluids.

Only in this way can one attain long life and enduring vision. The longer it is taken, the more pronounced its effects become. The ancients called it “the mountain’s essence plant” (a herb embodying the essence of the mountains) and “the essence of mountain ginger.” The Taishang Daoxian Ming says: “If you wish for long life, you should take the mountain’s essence; if you wish to become light and ascend by flight, you should take mountain ginger.” This is what it means.

I have observed that the effects of most things in the world tend to diminish. Only this method and its medicine can increase in potency. Because it can harness the power of technique and Qi, it has become something people need today. In the last age, illnesses are widespread, so one should take it. The Dao can make a person inwardly replete, yet one must still guard against harm from outside. Though the body is nourished by external things, it may also decay from within. Zhang Dan’s misfortune, brought on by favoring only one side, is enough to serve as a warning.

This method has two functions: first, to give people long life and extend their years; second, to dispel the malign and disordered illnesses caused by the myriad demons. I have seen hermits in the mountains and forests take this method and live for eight hundred or even a thousand years; such people are not uncommon among the immortals of the Five Sacred Peaks. There are too many related texts to record them all, so I am now setting down the method of taking this practice, to guide those who aspire to it. If they truly believe in it and follow it, perhaps they can avoid untimely calamity.

When peace reigns throughout the world, the Qi of the four seasons will be harmonious, the signs of Heaven will continually bring forth life, calamities will vanish, the Five Poisons (various harmful things) will lie hidden, the sun, moon, and stars will shine their watchful light, and all things will grow naturally. Then, whatever one’s circumstances or chosen method of cultivation and ingestion, there will be no more danger of premature death or ruin. I speak of this method now in the hope that those who are receptive will take it and thereby ward off calamity.

Recently, some people of shallow learning have been stirring up disputes and competing with one another. Many have adopted the methods of “Primordial Unity” and the “Yellow Book, Red Boundary.” These are indeed important practices that emphasize mutual generation and harmony, and the pairing of the two forms of Yin and Yang.

If Daoist arts are used to arrange troops and formations, break out of a predicament, bring together the Six Directions (heaven, earth, and the four quarters), follow the seasonal rhythms, and dispel calamities, they can gather Jing and Qi and nurture a precious embryo. They can preserve the spirit in the brain from being depleted and fill the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (the body’s centers for cultivating Jing, Qi, and Shen). With measured advances and withdrawals, one can avert calamity and danger; with careful planning, one can secure lasting peace and health. Even when an enemy drives out to meet the army in battle, one can keep the formation intact, lead the six armies forward in a long march, and bring them all back. These benefits are real, but they are not the most important concern of the immortals. Alas, how dangerous!

Although this is a way of seeking aid through the arts of mutual generation, it departs from the path of cultivation that transcends the world. It is like driving an ice chariot across a scorching land, or drifting in a fireboat through a treacherous crossing. Without genuine realization of the Dao, failure is all but certain. Some defy the patterns of heaven, secretly harm others, or envy them, obstructing their spiritual roots—the foundations of cultivation—and bringing their fortunes to a standstill. Some break their vows and betray their pledges, offending the Three Officials, the divine authorities who govern Heaven, Earth, and Water. Some are caught up in old grievances and suffer defeat in battle. Some massacre those who have surrendered and burn ships, leaving blood to flow across the land. Others are already exhausted but persist in their pursuit. If they press deep into the northern frontier without knowing when to stop, they may well lose their lives beneath the enemy’s blades. They die far from home, while their families suffer calamity back in their homeland. How could one fail to be cautious? How could one fail to be cautious?

I have seen many such cases, and few have truly gained anything. They merely delude themselves with the hope of survival and end up adding to their troubles. For this reason, I often sigh at people in the world who insist on pursuing such things. How much better it is to guard the cinnabar essence in the Crimson Palace, where the heart spirit resides, and bring the original spirit back to the Muddy Pellet, the site of cultivation in the head; to preserve the vital fluids without depleting them, and to gather and deeply store them at the Gate of Life, the root of life and an important site in cultivation; to take in numinous medicines in accord with life, and rinse the mouth and swallow the Flower Spring, the name given in cultivation to the body’s saliva, thereby purifying the spirit; to study profound, secret diagrams and recite the hidden scriptures of the Highest One. Living in seclusion on a mountain peak, one’s lifespan may then rival that of metal and stone. How could the feudal lords befriend such a person? Even an emperor could not make him a subject. Far from the world’s Five Turbidities, one remains serene and pure.

Keep far from the world’s Five Pollutions, a term used in Buddhist and Daoist texts to describe the defiled world, and remain constantly pure in the hope of attaining the true Dao. At ease and untroubled, take pleasure for now in clouds, rosy mists, mountains, and streams. As for the way the Lady of Great Perfection (Taizhen furen), an immortal in the Daoist tradition, arranged teachings on ingesting substances and methods of cultivation into chapters, she meant to exhort and admonish those who study the path to immortality, step by step; her work is not merely about ingesting substances and cultivation methods. She was richly gifted and elegant in expression, learned and broad in understanding. Her writing surges with force, like the vast sea’s long waves and mountain ranges stretching into the distance. The more earnest her admonitions, the sounder the principles she sets forth. Even those who have never personally studied under a teacher can receive instruction from her words and engrave them in their hearts. The merit of urging people toward goodness will never fade through the ages. Why does the Perfected One, having attained the Dao, care so deeply for the people of the world? Why does the Most Sagely One show such compassion for all living beings?

Volume Four

Lady of Great Perfection (Taizhen furen)

Lady Wanluo was the youngest daughter of the Queen Mother of the West. About sixteen or seventeen years old, she was styled Bosui and served the Perfected King of Xuandu. Her son held the post of Director of the Three Heavens’ Supreme Court, overseeing the investigation and correction of faults in the Celestial Bureaucracy and assisting officials on earth. Because he was young and fond of idle wandering, he neglected his duties. His supervising official impeached him for failing to investigate matters diligently. He was demoted to oversee the Eastern Peak, removed from the Perfected King’s register of immortals, and reassigned to command ghosts and spirits, a post that rotated every five hundred years.

Lady Wanluo went to visit him, urging him to carry out his duties conscientiously and keep to his proper responsibilities to make amends for his faults. On the way, as she passed through Linzi, she encountered He Junxian, a minor county official who had been attacked over an old feud and was close to death. Seeing that his features and bone structure were extraordinary, she took pity on him and asked how badly he was hurt. He Junxian answered truthfully. The lady said, “You have suffered a deep wound from a heavy blade. It has reached your lungs and damaged your five organs. Your blood is congealed, and your breath is pressing against the outside of your intestines. This is a grave injury that leaves you on the brink of death. You cannot be saved now. What can be done?”

He Junxian recognized her as a divine being. He kowtowed and begged her to save him. From the medicine tube she carried behind her elbow, the lady took out a pill no bigger than a small bean and told him to swallow it. He recovered at once: the bleeding stopped, the wound closed, and the pain disappeared.

He Junxian bowed again and said, “My family is poor. I do not know what I could offer in return for your kindness. I can only do my utmost in your service to repay you for saving my life.” The lady said, “If you truly wish to repay me, that is a good intention. Would you be willing to come with me?” He Junxian then changed his name and surname, calling himself Ma Mingsheng. He followed the lady and took on duties in her service.

The Lady returned to the stone chamber in the sheer cliffs of Mount Dai, on Mount Tai, in the eastern sacred range. Towering, perilous walls of rock surrounded the chamber on every side. It lay hidden more than a thousand zhang above the ground, beyond the reach of ordinary people. Inside stood a golden bed and a jade table, surrounded by an array of rare and precious treasures.

At first, Mingsheng served the Lady simply because he wanted to learn a method for treating knife wounds. Only after he witnessed immortals coming and going with his own eyes did he realize that a way to live forever existed in the world. He attended to her morning and evening, making offerings and cleaning, and never slackened in his efforts. The Lady also tested him in various ways, conjuring apparitions of ghosts, monsters, tigers, and wolves. Mingsheng remained clear-minded and upright, never giving in to fear. She once had him sleep elsewhere, then, while he was asleep, arranged for beautiful women to tease him and draw close to him. Mingsheng’s resolve stayed firm and his mind calm; he formed no improper thoughts.

At times the Lady was away for five or ten days; at other times, she did not return for twenty days or a month. While she was gone, Mingsheng often saw immortal guests riding dragons and phoenixes as they came and went, and others arriving to pay their respects. True immortals filled the chamber throughout the day. When guests came, the Lady would send Mingsheng to a separate room outside. Sometimes, in an instant, she would prepare fine dishes and fruits, along with fragrant, unusual wines and drinks. They seemed to appear of their own accord, and were too numerous to describe one by one. At times she invited Mingsheng to sit with her, sharing food and drink. Music from zithers and lutes, and graceful, exquisite singing, often sounded through the chamber.

Sometimes the Lady played the zither herself. It had only one string, yet could produce all five notes at once. Its sound was clear and piercing, audible for several miles. Birds flocked to the cliffs around the stone chamber, wheeling through the air and refusing to leave even when driven away. It was a naturally wondrous scene, like the music of immortals in Heaven.

The Lady usually lived with Mingsheng in the same stone chamber, though each slept in a separate bed. The place was secluded and quiet, and ordinarily the two of them were alone. Now and then the Lady went out without saying where she was going. Mingsheng saw only that a white dragon often came to meet her. The Lady put on a cloud-bright embroidered robe and rode away on the dragon. The robe was set with moon-bright pearls, with jade ornaments on its seams and sash. She wore a golden Huatai Taixuan crown, the kind worn by Daoist immortals, and had no attendants with her. When she returned, the white dragon left of its own accord, and no one knew where it went.

The Immortal of the Stone Chamber

The Immortal of the Stone Chamber, Yu, departed riding a white dragon. Her robe was adorned with pearls as bright as the full moon, and her seams and sash were decorated with jade ornaments. She wore a Golden Flower Supreme Mystery crown, but had no attendants. When she returned, the white dragon left of its own accord; no one knew where it went.

On the jade bed in the stone chamber lay purple brocade bedding, and crimson gauze curtains hung around it. Various garments and implements were arranged inside the curtains, stored in precious golden boxes. They were dark black and ochre yellow, and displayed all around. None of these things belonged to the human world, and Mingsheng could not identify them all. There were also two white scrolls, their covers inscribed with The Scripture of the Way of the Great Perfection of the Nine Heavens. Mingsheng never dared to open them and look inside. He only brought water, cleaned, and watched over the grotto chamber. He did not dare to peek at the garments and implements, much less ask about them.

Mingsheng guarded the chamber so carefully for five years, becoming ever more diligent and respectful, never slackening. The Lady sighed and said, “You are truly someone who can be taught; in time, you will surely attain the Dao. Though you were originally a worldly person, you have not coveted these treasures and garments. You have always revered the numinous Qi of the immortals, and never ceased. How could someone like you, even if he wished to die, ever die?”

She then told Mingsheng her name and origins, saying, “I have remained in the human world for a long time. Now I have received the ruler’s command and have also been summoned by the Most High, a deity of the highest rank in Daoism. I can no longer stay. Because I have seen how devoted and cautious you are, I will tell you this: I wish to teach you the means of long life and extended years. But the libation of Great Harmony, natural and formed from a dragon’s embryo, which I take, is suitable only for transmission to Perfected Ones of the Three Heavens, not to beginners. Even if you heard of it, you might not be able to use it to cultivate yourself. Master Anqi knows the methods for firing and refining the Golden Liquid Elixir; his secret instructions are concise and effective. This is the Way of the Nine Lords and the Great One. Those who complete its cultivation can ascend to Heaven in broad daylight. Master Anqi will come tomorrow, and I will entrust you to him. Follow him for a time, and he will certainly pass this art on to you.”

The next day, Master Anqi arrived. He rode in a splendid carriage, wore red robes and a long-distance travel crown, and was adorned with jade ornaments. He carried a tiger-headed incense pouch. He looked to be about twenty, with a fair and dignified appearance. Six or seven immortals accompanied him, each holding a tally and standing guard at his side. When he met the lady, Master Anqi showed great respect, bowed, and referred to himself as “your humble subordinate.” Soon wine, fruit, and food were served, and the two sat down to feast and drink freely.

After about half a day, Master Anqi recalled that he had once traveled with the lady to the western sea near Anxi, an ancient kingdom in the Western Regions. There they had eaten dates of exquisite flavor, far better than the ones here. Though they remembered the journey as if it had happened only recently, two thousand years had in fact passed. The lady said, “I once ate a single date with you. It took me a long time to finish it. How could these little dates here compare?”

Master Anqi said, “Some time ago, I went to the Nine Rivers to pay my respects to Lord Sinyin, and then traveled with the Lady of the Western Han. She asked me about the periods of Yang Nine and Hundred Six, and about the tribulations that befall a sage ruler when he receives the Mandate of Heaven. I replied that I was still young and did not understand the patterns of these tribulations, and that she should ask Lady Taizhen instead. Now that you have graciously given me a seat, I would like to ask you about their underlying principles.”

The lady said, “The periods of tribulation extend over vast stretches of time; you cannot grasp them at once. Between Heaven and Earth there are Great Yang Nine and Hundred Six, as well as Lesser Yang Nine and Lesser Hundred Six. Calamities in Heaven are called ‘Yang Nine,’ while the Earth’s depletion is called ‘Hundred Six.’ These two kinds of catastrophe are signs of the waxing and waning of Heaven and Earth’s movements, and of Yin and Yang falling into disorder and decay. A great tribulation runs its course over 9,900 years, and a lesser one over 3,300 years. Even when such a tribulation falls during the age of a sage king, it cannot be averted. When disaster strikes, a state may be destroyed; the good fortune that remains will arise again of its own accord. The great tribulation is not yet imminent, but the Tang dynasty is now at the beginning of a Lesser Yang Nine. By the next jia-shen year, the Hundred Six tribulation will be drawing near.”

At that time, the influence of Dao and De was flourishing, yet violent forces suddenly grew rampant as well. The sage ruler rose in response to Heaven’s mandate in the Renchen year; the thousand-year term will not have long to wait before it arrives. The Lady of the Western Han had already witnessed these events herself, so she probably asked in this way to test the other person. Even so, all of this was also arranged by the Lord who governs Yin.

“Yang Nine” refers to a great drought, surging seas, and trees on land withering and dying. “Hundred Six” refers to the seas drying up and hills and ravines being filled in. The waters of the Four Seas recede; islands in the ocean become mountains. Whales as huge as cities and merfolk tens of thousands of feet long do not understand the duration of the kalpa, and can only appeal to Heaven and beg for water. Their petitions pour into the Heavenly Court, keeping the Three Heavens—the levels of the celestial realm in Daoist teaching—busy with their inquiries, while the officials who govern Yin grow weary from their careful investigations.

Where the Nine Rivers flow into the sea is a place scoured by the Red River, so deep it cannot be measured. Now, however, it is gradually drying up. The energies of the eight directions steam over mountains and marshes, while drifting sand blocks the river’s source. Then the waters of the Four Seas will gather, and dragons will leap and soar in jubilation. In the Jia Shen year, the waters will be poised to surge skyward, and a dark, freezing flood will flow back. The Water Mother is now reporting at Heaven’s Gate, awaiting the opening of Jishi Mountain so that ten thousand springs may join the watercourse. Yin winds will sweep across the human world, and the Dark Waters will rush far and wide. Within a few years they will overflow, and only at the end of the ninth year will they gradually subside.

Once one has attained the Dao and become a perfected being, with the body united with the wondrous Way, all that remains is to rise into the open sky and cross over mountains and waves, wander among floating peaks and gaze down upon great rivers, fly on a dark swan to the Cinnabar City, and ride a chariot drawn by a horned dragon through the clouds. One arrives in an instant, taking delight in flight and in the sights below. What is there to worry about? For now, let us talk about drinking. Why trouble ourselves over such things?

She pointed to Mingsheng and said to Anqi, “This child is wholly devoted to the Dao and may perhaps be taught. We were fated to meet in the past, and so he came to follow me. Although the impure energy in him has not yet been entirely cleared away, his lust has already faded. He is not yet ready to receive the way of Mystery and Supreme Truth. For now, I would like him to learn the Golden Liquid Elixir formula from you. If you agree, take him with you.

“The minds and spirits of worldly people are fragile, their spleens and stomachs weak, and their Qi, blood, and bodily fluids deficient. Their Liver Qi and sinew strength cannot nourish their eyes, and their lips and tongues cannot discern what is right. Though they may have kind and benevolent hearts, they are not yet in harmony with the ways of Heaven and humanity. They wish to pursue the path of the immortals, but do not yet possess the power of spiritual flight. You should comfort and encourage them so that their resolve grows firm. Do not test them with the transformations of immortals or the divine arts of the Eight Powers. I hope you will not rebuke him too harshly, lest he lose the right path.”

Anqi replied, “Very well. I fear only that my own cultivation is shallow and my arts inadequate to teach him. I learned this formula long ago from Master Guangcheng, a legendary immortal teacher. My former master’s Dao and De were of the highest subtlety; his mind was deep and unfathomable. He neither looked nor listened. His movements left no trace, and there was nowhere to find him when he stayed. His spirit and Qi were joined with the profound stillness of the mysterious realm, and his body seemed to dwell atop a numinous mountain.

“I devoted myself to practice, as though seated on Mount Kongtong. The plants between my knees would suddenly grow thick as a forest, and when the hills trembled, it was as if they struck the earth, yet made no sound. Whenever I sought to question him, my former master would move away and refuse to speak plainly. I did not know how I had learned his arts, nor could I understand by what means I had touched their root. At the time, I was utterly bewildered.

“This continued for forty or fifty years. I remained diligent in upholding the Dao and never slackened, serving my former master for a long time in the role of a servant. Later, when he finally took notice of me, I gradually received his guidance and instruction. Now I have crossed the Pool of Boiling Waters, that legendary peril on the way to the immortals’ realm, and entered the Land of Life. At times my former master reveals his face and meets with me, speaking with me and answering my questions. He explains the difficulties and ease of seeking the Dao. Only then did he grant me the essentials of the Golden Liquid Elixir.”

These are perfected methods handed down by my former master, and I truly dare not teach them in haste. Within twenty years, I must enable practitioners to glimpse the road to the heavenly realm.

I once went with a young lady to the Round Mound, the legendary celestial paradise, where we watched numinous beings descend along the Nine Terraces, tier upon tier of immortal steps, and gazed into the distance as the Weak Water flowed eastward. We drank the fragrant dark jade wine bestowed upon us, and, warmed by the wine, sang aloud. I opened a venerable book chest and leafed through efficacious registers of immortals. By chance, I came upon a formula for “Jade Embryo and Jeweled Marrow.” Swallowing the tiniest amount would bring an immediate ascent into the clouds. It could also transform the body, until at last one took one’s place among the True Sovereigns. This method is simple and subtle; its preparation takes less time than the Flower of Golden Liquid and is faster even than the Elixir of Ninefold Frost and Snow.

I do not presume to criticize. I only feel that forsaking what is near to seek what is far, and taking a roundabout route when a direct one is available, is to choose complexity over simplicity. I truly wish to know the ranks of these divine formulas and to understand the exalted status of the True Immortals. If this formula of jeweled essence is so precious, perhaps attendants are not yet permitted to use it?”

The lady said, “Do you not know? This is the numinous formula of the Celestial Sovereign, suited only to Perfected Ones. It is beyond the reach of ordinary mortals. Immortal formulas are ranked in nine grades: first, the Libation of Natural Langgan of Great Harmony; second, the Paste of Jade Embryo and Jeweled Liquor; third, Flying Elixir of Purple Radiance and Flowing Essence; fourth, the Rich Essence of Vermilion Light and Cloud Jade; fifth, the Divine Elixir of Red Radiance from the Nine Springs; sixth, the Flower of Golden Liquid of Great Clarity; seventh, the Elixir of Ninefold Frost and Snow; eighth, Cloud Essence of the Nine Cauldrons; and ninth, Flying Elixir of Cloud Light and Stone Flow. These are the ranks and sequence of the Nine Elixirs.”

Those who attain the Dao and become immortals are also divided into nine ranks. The highest is called the “True King of the Nine Heavens,” the second the “True Emperor of the Three Heavens,” the third the “Perfected One Supreme Above,” the fourth the “Flying-Heaven Perfected One,” the fifth the “Numinous Immortal,” the sixth the “Perfected One,” the seventh the “Numinous Person,” the eighth the “Flying Immortal,” and the ninth the “Immortal.” These are the ranks of the Nine Immortals, each distinct in status; none may skip a rank. To learn the method of the Golden Elixir already goes beyond what ordinary people can attain. As for the elixir taken by the Jade Emperor, it is not suited to be heard of by those whose cultivation is shallow.

Though you have already attained the Dao, you have remained in the human world for a long time. The clamor and turbidity of worldly life have tainted your upright Qi, and the dust of the mortal realm has disturbed the “Three Ones” within you—the vital foundations of essence, Qi, and spirit in the human body, as Daoism describes them. I fear you are not yet able to ascend to the Three Heavens to pay court to the Supreme One, nor cross Mount Fusang to visit the Great Perfected One. You cannot yet readily grasp even the method of the Jade Embryo, much less let those with shallow cultivation hear its teachings.”

Anqi showed a look of shame, rose from his seat, and said, “I truly did not know that the ranks of immortal medicines differed in such mysterious ways. Hearing this is astonishing indeed.” He then explained, “I once heard that the Lady has the Scripture of the Way of the Great Perfected One of the Nine Heavens. This scripture is pure, empty, bright, and clear, and can illuminate the deep and mysterious realms; it is indeed not something those with shallow cultivation can gaze upon. Yet I have long received the Lady’s guidance, and her instruction has been profound. It is only because I lack self-knowledge that I have presumptuously asked for further teaching. Might I be allowed to look at this book? If I could glimpse the Way of the Great Perfected One, even briefly, it would be easy to distinguish the true from the false and the higher from the lower.”

The Lady smiled for a long while, then said, “The Way of the Supreme One is unlike any other, and the True Ones’ celestial palace lies exceedingly far away. I fear it is beyond the reach of those with shallow cultivation. You should simply continue to increase the merit you have cultivated today, and not rashly seek achievements beyond your station.”

For the time being, I must travel north to Xuanzhou, then east to Fangzhang Isle, the legendary abode of immortals. At the Jade Court, I will appoint celestial officials; I will wander through Penglai and vanish from sight. The Most High, a revered deity of Daoism, has issued an order and personally instructed me to go beyond the Flowing Sands and bring order to the affairs of the immortals. I must also receive the art of the soaring goose in a palace above the Nine Heavens, verify the lifespans of the perfected beings, raise the celestial spirits to Kunlang, and go to Xuandu Palace to rinse and refine the Qi of the Dragon Embryo. In the hall of the assembled immortals, I must examine the Jade Maidens. Heaven’s affairs are many, and I have no time for now to show you the Scripture of Great Perfection.

If you can diligently cultivate the Way of Great Clarity and Orthodox Unity, grasp the subtle talismans and registers of the Scripture of the Three Sovereigns, guard the radiance of your spirit in secluded mountain forests, and command the assembled immortals across the Five Sacred Peaks; if you can map the contours of mountains and rivers to summon the spirits, command Hengshan and Huashan, and dispatch the spirits of the Four Rivers, then you may seek me at the Mound of the Three Heavens, or come visit me at Zhongshan or Wangwu Mountain. At that time, I can pass on to you the true books of the immortals. If you cannot do these things, there is no need to make a fine horse wade on foot through vast marshes, nor to abandon a boat and cross the coast by swimming.

You should cherish the time you have for the daily care of body and mind. Refine and nourish the Golden Elixir to attain the true Dao; take joy in a long life and guard your body with upright Qi. Only then can white hair return to a child’s complexion, and the numinous fluids—vital essence and life-giving fluids gained through cultivation—sustain life for a long time.

As I said before, the period of Yang Nine and Six Hundred will arrive when its appointed time comes. Safety and danger are not fixed; times of misfortune and good fortune turn into one another. Seeing these changes clearly cannot help but stir melancholy and reflection. When great calamity strikes, one may try to evade it, but ritual cannot dispel it. Understand that fate and the forces of the times converge in ways even a sage ruler may not foresee. Thus Boyang, Laozi, left the Zhou court, and the Pass Warden Yin Xi sensed that the state was about to decline. Signs from Heaven and humanity appear throughout all things. Why, then, do you cling to the prospect of remaining a terrestrial immortal for a long time? Better to awaken soon, ascend and depart, transcend the world and preserve yourself, evade the calamity of the Jia-Shen year along the mysterious Way, and take your place among the true spirits.

That is all I have to say. You should strive in your cultivation.

Anqi knelt and said, “Today you have been so kind as to teach me the Way. I will practice it with reverence.” The Lady said to Mingsheng, “I cannot stay any longer. Go with this gentleman, and do not worry about me. I will visit you from time to time.” She then gave Mingsheng two five-character poems as keepsakes, so they could remember one another. Mingsheng tearfully said goodbye and followed Master Anqi to study the Way of the Nine Elixirs, a Daoist method of cultivation for refining and obtaining elixirs of immortality.

The first poem says:

“For a time I leave Yongcheng, traveling by carriage to the foot of Mount Dai. I lift my gaze toward the Gate of Supreme Purity, the celestial palace of Daoist tradition; only the lofty, magnificent halls among the clouds come into view.

“In the empty heavens, perfected beings come and go, their forms passing in a myriad of ways. They cultivate the body to preserve its innate nature; in every gesture and movement, they absorb the Qi of Great Harmony, the pure, balanced primal energy.

“At dawn I pay homage to the King of the Nine Heavens; at dusk I return to my lodging in Western Florescence. When Jing and Qi circulate, one can soar aloft; through breathing practices, one nourishes the body.

“The greatest joy does not come from bells and chimes. The breeze itself plays the music of nature. Flying above and below the clouds, clad in feathered robes, I dance with effortless grace.

“The Five Sacred Peaks are not my home; the Mysterious Capital is where I dwell. Looking down at those who vie for glory and wealth, I see them clinging to their delusions like frogs and toads.

“Looking back upon the dusty, turbid world, I see troubles arriving one after another. If one has not grasped the wondrous teaching, why cling to pondering external things?

“Disaster often comes from divulging the Dao’s teachings. Guard them carefully and keep them secret, and blessings will grow.”

The second poem says:

“Once I lived in the Palace of Kunling, where I discussed with others the way to prolong life. Golden Elixir may indeed extend one’s years, yet it cannot compare with becoming an immortal of Great Harmony.

“I ascended the Terrace of Dark Spirit, reclining there in stillness, thinking of and singing about the immortals. Suddenly I met the King of Fusang, a perfected immortal of the Capital of the Nine Elders.

“He rode in a chariot drawn by a purple horned dragon, his appearance radiant and bright. He showed me the path to longevity and invited me to the ford that leads to the realm of natural freedom.”

His master taught him the “Flight of the Great Goose” technique, a method of cultivation likened to the ascent of a wild goose, and passed on the “Jade Embryo Chapter,” which describes the related methods of practice. Jade ointment congealed in a wondrous vessel, and the Plain Maiden explained its methods to me.

Bending low, you drink the essence of the Luminous Phoenix; raising your head, you ascend to the Three Heavens, the lofty celestial realms of Daoist teaching. The Cloud Net bears your steps aloft, and even the Five Sacred Peaks may be left behind for a time.

Why consider the Mysterious Capital far away? Penglai seems to lie just beneath your feet. Master and disciple grow close and cherish one another, becoming friends; in the end, they will become celestial beings who have attained the Dao.

To pass these teachings on to others invites punishment and retribution. When calamity strikes, neither fool nor sage can escape. Keep the secrets, and you will remain safe and secure for a long time; reveal the hidden methods, and your body and life will be placed in danger.

When the poem was finished, Mingsheng followed Anqi, shouldered his pack, and entered Mount Nüji. The Lady departed riding a cloud dragon. Mingsheng accompanied his master on travels through Mount Qingcheng, Mount Lu, Mount Qian, and other places. After twenty years, he finally obtained the Golden Liquor formula, refined and took it, and then ascended to Heaven.

○ Magu

Magu is an immortal whose rank is second only to the Supreme True Sovereign (Shangzhen Yuanjun), a high-ranking female immortal. During the reign of Emperor Huan of Han, the immortal Wang Yuan, courtesy name Fangping, came to Cai Jing’s home. Before he arrived, the Cai family heard drums, music, flutes, and the sounds of people and horses. When he appeared, the whole family saw him.

Wang Yuan wore a far-travel crown and red robes, with tiger-head ornaments and a five-colored sash. He carried a sword. His sideburns were sparse, his complexion yellowish-white, and his build average. He rode in a carriage with a feathered canopy, drawn by five dragons of different colors. Banners and ceremonial escorts led his retinue, which was as imposing as that of a great general. His procession had twelve divisions and five hundred soldiers, whose mouths were sealed with wax. The musicians rode qilin, and the whole company descended from the sky and stopped above the courtyard. Each attendant was more than ten feet tall, yet none walked on the ground. After Wang Yuan arrived, his attendants vanished, and no one knew where they had gone. The Cai family saw only Wang Yuan meeting Cai Jing’s father, brothers, and mother; he sat alone with them for a long while.

Then Wang Yuan sent a messenger to Cai Jing’s home to invite Magu to meet him. Cai Jing did not know who Magu was. Wang Yuan asked the messenger to convey this message: “Wang Fangping respectfully informs Magu: I have not come to the human world for a long time. Now that I happen to be here, I would like to ask you to come and meet me for a little while.”

Some time later, the messenger returned. No one could see him, but they heard Magu reply: “Magu bows twice. It has been more than five hundred years since we last parted. There is an order of precedence between the honored and the humble, so I dare not presume to be discourteous. I am grateful for your invitation and had meant to come at once, but I was previously charged by the Celestial Emperor with inspecting Penglai. I will make a brief visit now, and return in person once the task is done. I hope you will not leave immediately.”

About two hours later, Magu arrived. As she came, the sounds of people, horses, flutes, and drums were heard first. When she reached the place, her retinue was about half the size of Wang Yuan’s.

When Magu, a female immortal, arrived at Cai Jing’s home, his entire family saw her. She was beautiful and looked about eighteen or nineteen. Her hair was gathered in a bun on top of her head, while the rest fell to her waist. Her clothes were patterned, though they were not made of brocade or any similar fabric. They gleamed brilliantly, in styles beyond description—styles never seen in the human world.

Magu entered and paid her respects to Wang Fangping, an immortal. Wang Fangping rose to welcome her. Once she was seated, he had food and wine brought out. The serving dishes were all gold plates and jade cups, and there were many of them. Most of the dishes consisted of various flowers and fruits, whose fragrance filled the room and drifted outside. Everyone shared dried meat that tasted like roasted cypress branches. Magu said it was qilin jerky, made from the flesh of a qilin.

Magu said, “Since I began serving the immortals, I have seen with my own eyes the Eastern Sea turn into mulberry fields three times. Just now, when I arrived at Penglai, the fabled island of immortals in the sea, I found that the water had receded by half since my last visit. Could the sea keep retreating until it becomes dry land and hills?” Wang Fangping smiled and said, “The sages often say that the land in the sea shifts, and in the end, dust rises.” This meant that even the vast sea can become mulberry fields, and that everything in the world is constantly changing.

Magu wished to see Cai Jing’s mother, wife, and nephews and nieces. At the time, Cai Jing’s younger brother’s wife had given birth only a few dozen days earlier. Magu saw her from a distance and immediately knew. “Ah, wait there; don’t come closer,” she said. She asked for a little rice, took it, and scattered it on the ground, saying this would dispel the impurity left after childbirth. When the rice struck the ground, every grain turned into a pearl. Wang Fangping smiled and said, “Magu is still young, but I am old. I no longer enjoy displaying such marvelous transformations.”

Wang Fangping said to Cai Jing’s family, “I would like to offer you some wine. It comes from the celestial kitchen. Its flavor is rich, and it is not suited to ordinary people; drinking it could upset your stomach. I will dilute it with water, so don’t be surprised.” He poured one sheng of wine into one dou of water, stirred them together, and offered it to everyone. Each person drank about one sheng and remained drunk for a long time. When the wine was gone, Wang Fangping said to those beside him, “There isn’t enough. Go and fetch some more.”

Wang Fangping took out a thousand coins and gave them to the old woman of Yuhang, asking someone to find out whether she could sell wine. When the messenger returned, he brought back an oilskin flask containing about five dou of wine. He handed it to the old woman, who replied, “I fear that wine from the human world is not fit for an immortal’s honored guest.”

Magu’s fingernails were like a bird’s claws. When Cai Jing saw them, he thought to himself, “When my back itches, having claws like those scratch it would feel wonderful.” Wang Fangping already knew what Cai Jing was thinking. He ordered people to hold Cai Jing down and beat him with a whip, rebuking him: “Magu is an immortal. How can you casually say that her claws could be used to scratch your back?” The whip struck Cai Jing’s back, but no one holding it could be seen. Wang Fangping told Cai Jing, “My whip is not something you should take lightly.”

That same day, Wang Fangping also gave Cai Jing a talisman and a magical technique. Their neighbor Chen Wei could summon spirits and ghosts to treat people’s illnesses. Cai Jing, too, had learned the method of shedding his mortal form, a practice of casting off the old body like a snake or cicada sheds its skin. He often traveled with Lord Wang through the mountains and seas, sometimes returning home for a short while. Lord Wang had also written letters to Chen Wei. Many of the characters in them resembled seal script, an ancient style of writing; at times, they were in regular script, with broad spacing and large characters. Chen Wei’s family treasured these letters for generations.

Only after the banquet ended did Wang Fangping and Magu have their attendants prepare their carriages and depart for heaven. Their procession, accompanied by flutes, drums, and ceremonial attendants, was just as it had been before.

Volume Five

Lady Youying of Yunlin (a title of an immortal in Daoism)

Lady Youying of Yunlin, whose name was Meilan and courtesy name Shenlin, was the thirteenth daughter of the Queen Mother of the West. Appointed Lady Youying of Yunlin Palace, she made her residence at Canglang Palace.

On the third day of the seventh month in the third year of the Xingning era of the Jin dynasty (an Ox year), she descended to Lord Yang’s residence together with many immortals, including the High Minister of the Eastern Peak, the Perfected Lord Siming. She presented him with a text and said:

“In your early years, you lost your support and wandered from place to place, yet your deep spiritual nature did not disappear. The circumstances each person encounters in life arise from their own causes and conditions, and the steps by which you might ascend to immortality have not yet appeared. Though you long in your heart to study and seek the Dao, you have not yet deeply grasped its highest principles.

“Your natural endowments are indeed outstanding. Your mind is clear as water, your bearing lofty, and your spirit rests in the Great Mystery, the profound and subtle realm. You hope to enter the Purple Court, the palaces of the immortal realm, and travel through the air. Your mind can already discern when cultivation advances, retreats, or falters, and inwardly you are gradually attuning yourself to profound principles. Your conduct accords with proper measure, and you can respond to changing circumstances. In stillness, too, you can appreciate the meaning of genuine peace and balance; your speech carries a lingering resonance. You may be called a person of transcendent bearing and exceptional talent, truly worthy of respect.

“Yet your distracting thoughts have not been cleared away. Inwardly, you still cling to narrowness and stinginess; your desires have not been severed, and the pool of your mind has not yet grown clear. For this reason, it is not yet time to speak with you about the timing of inner and outer cultivation, or about the meeting of the two luminaries of the sun and moon—their essences or visions as they relate to cultivation.

“When an opportunity is missed, what matters is the ability to correct one’s course. Now that we have let go of resentment and released our attachments, nothing stands in the way. Even if we do not let others hear of this for the time being, we can still remain in harmony. The road ahead is long, and this kind of trial will come more than once. Your thoughts are manifold; you must gather them in constantly and guard your words with care. If your feelings and intentions scatter and you lose your discipline amid events, then even a reminder will sound faint. What, then, will restrain and dispel these distracting thoughts?

“Clear, pure sounds drift through the air; a wondrous, fresh breeze passes through the woods. The body rises beyond the shadowed path, while the mind sings of the immortals’ subtle music. Renhou is surely such a person. Those who cultivate and guard the True One, working with diligence and sincerity, must gather themselves in constantly and act with care. If their feelings and intentions scatter and they lose their discipline amid events, then even a reminder will sound faint. What, then, will restrain and dispel these distracting thoughts? Clear, pure sounds drift through the air; a wondrous, fresh breeze passes through the woods. The body rises beyond the shadowed path, while the mind sings of the immortals’ subtle music. Renhou is surely such a person.”

If one devotes oneself diligently and steadfastly to preserving the True One—a Daoist practice of concentrating the mind and spirit—then within a year, white hair will stop growing and hair that has fallen out will grow back. But if one worries about one’s descendants and lets family concerns entangle one, while also attending to public affairs and socializing with friends, allowing the ears and eyes to take in every kind of business and scattering one’s energy across a jumble of duties, that too shows a lack of single-mindedness in cultivating the Dao.

The text also speaks of Lord Yu Fu’s cultivation of the Dao, illustrating how Xue Jihe repeatedly sought the Dao without success. The younger brother of Master Xue of Changli lost his position because he indulged in sexual desire, but by nature he loved playing the flute, whose sound resembled a phoenix’s cry. Master Xue therefore prayed to the Most High that, in a future life, his brother might accumulate good De through his words and actions, so that this hidden virtue might also benefit Lord Xu Yu Fu.

The scripture says: “Hearing the north wind, one feels sorrow in the heart; seeing Qiyao, one feels at peace; thinking of a fine horse galloping, one longs to ride freely; praising the virtue of gentleness, one hopes to undo what is knotted within. Are the feelings of ordinary people not like this? This is how the customs and atmosphere of one’s homeland affect the heart; it is the inward attachment people feel to their native place. If you can trust in this, you can accord with the Dao. If your mind is closed and clings to desire, your inner clarity cannot emerge. Even if spirits come hand in hand, they can only return empty-handed, while enlightened companions gather up their sleeves and depart. Shen and Qi no longer attend to your dwelling, and the wondrous Dao, silent and penetrating, no longer appears before you. You have brought all this upon yourself. Is this not pitiful?”

Those who have attained the Dao can cast off every entanglement and press forward with resolve. Then affairs naturally settle, and the bustle of worldly business disperses like clouds and mist. One who can bring disorder under control does not feel burdened; hardship, in turn, can reveal one’s purpose. In the first month, there must be an affair at Guishan, and one should also examine carefully the matter of a worthy visitor’s arrival. From ancient times to the present, life and death each have their appointed course, as do prominence and seclusion. Hiding one’s attachment to the past, dispelling contrivance, and living in accord with worldly circumstances: these are all practices of the Dao.

After refining and taking the Jade Elixir—a wondrous elixir spoken of by the immortals—one can ascend to the heavens again and again. Drink the dawn’s cloud nectar and consume flowing yellow, golden syrup, and jade pistils—immortal liquids and medicines—and one can at once ride the clouds high into the sky, ascending to Taiwei, the celestial realm of the immortals.

Yet worldly circumstances change, and the work of cultivating immortality meets its own conditions and obstacles. At times, therefore, one must briefly enter the Great Yin, the realm of shadows, and dwell in the land of darkness. One must leave the physical body behind and lodge the immortal embryo in a chamber of stillness and emptiness. Only after refining Qi, abandoning desire, and receiving the mysterious vital essence can one change one’s appearance in the Hall of the Three Yin and regain a youthful face at the Gate of the Nine Refinements. From this we can understand that what makes immortals precious is that, though they undergo death, they do not truly perish. The principles governing the comings and goings of life and death are profoundly mysterious.

A tree that can cast shade over ten thousand mu of land must grow on a lofty mountain ridge. A body of water powerful enough to raise towering waves and shake mountain peaks must come from a deep and expansive source. Sages who accumulate hidden virtue, like the figures described here, can roam freely beyond the Great Wilderness, unbound and unconstrained. They can also spread their wings among the peaks of Xuanpu, the immortals’ garden, escaping the danger of nets and traps. How could those who cultivate the Dao grow weary of the Dao? The value of concealing oneself in seclusion lies in remaining hidden without leaving a trace.

Even a swift-footed steed, so fast that its shadow cannot be seen, cannot roam freely at Lüliang. Even a boat that glides over the waves and sings of springs cannot climb the perilous heights of Mount Taihang. Each has its own strengths and endowments. Dense, secluded forests draw flocks of birds to gather; deep, expansive springs draw schools of fish to swim toward them. This speaks of the power of attraction that comes from abundant De.

Cultivating the Dao truly requires diligence, and those who persist in their efforts will eventually achieve something. Those who study the Dao should devote themselves to it with wholehearted sincerity, allowing no thoughts to wander. They should cast off extravagance and hold fast to stillness and simplicity. The heart should be quiet and profound, perception clear and keen; one should focus as cautiously as if standing before a deep ravine and remain vigilant as if walking on thin ice. This is the gateway to attaining the Dao, but not yet its inner chamber.

It is said that studying the Dao is both difficult and easy. If one can quietly contemplate the mysterious principles, preserve a nature that is peaceful and true, gather the spirit and nourish its vitality, and devote oneself to studying the six internal organs; if one cherishes Jing and cuts off desire, remains undisturbed by external things, and is not led astray by sights and sounds, then studying the Dao becomes easy.

If these things cannot be achieved, cultivating the Dao becomes difficult. When the flow of Qi in the mountains is disturbed, vigorous birds and beasts call out in the forests; when rivers are blocked, dragons and serpents—mythical kinds of dragons—grow sorrowful in the marshes. These are scenes that nature itself reveals. When people make choices that go against what is right, the workings of the myriad things between Heaven and Earth take different courses.

Only a quiet and yielding state of mind can attain humility and harmony; only in emptiness, stillness, and solitude can one merge mysteriously with the Dao. If one’s thoughts do not stray into error, misfortune will not be invited in. The key is to set the heart straight and cast off entanglements; when the source is clear, the water flows pure of itself. If someone heads south while rushing north, thinks one thing but says another, abandons the sweet shepherd’s purse to eat bitter greens, mocks the “Nine Shao” (ancient court music) yet loves the music of the northern frontier, then I know that person cannot discern harmonious music.

So a warning was given to Emperor Jianwen of Jin: wear a piece of musk at the neck to ward off floods and nightmares.

Cultivating the Dao means continually accumulating merit and doing good. The Perfected One of Great Emptiness often said: “When people have many faults but refuse to repent, their sins gather upon them, growing ever heavier like streams flowing into the sea. If they do wrong, recognize their mistake, repent, and turn to doing good, their sins will lessen; as good deeds accumulate, they too may attain the Dao. When others treat me with malice, I respond with kindness; when others bring calamity upon me, I meet them with blessings and goodness. In this way, goodness remains with me. When evil people harm the good, it is like spitting toward the sky: the spittle cannot reach the heavens, but soils the spitter instead. It is like scattering dust into the wind: the dust does not reach others, but blows back upon oneself. The Dao cannot be destroyed; the misfortune brought on by wrongdoing will ultimately fall upon the wrongdoer.

“Supporting a hundred ordinary people is not as good as supporting one good person; supporting a thousand good people is not as good as supporting one poor recluse devoted to cultivating the Dao. This is a secret teaching handed down by the exalted Perfected Ones, and an important precept of the Most High, the Dao. Wealth and beauty tempt people like honey on a knife’s edge that a child licks: the honey is sweet for only a moment, while the tongue may be cut. Be on your guard.”

Cultivators of the Dao should remember: of all forms of desire, sexual desire is the strongest. The wrongdoing it brings is greatest, and its harmful consequences are difficult to escape. How could one fail to guard against it with care? The key to cultivating the Dao lies in accumulating hidden virtue: doing good unseen, giving generously, helping others, and rescuing them from hardship. What cultivators should devote themselves to above all is safeguarding body and mind and following the Great Dao. In this way, they will gain immense blessings and make the foundation of life more secure.

The Lady Shou Shi says in verse:

Riding in a carriage, I roam through the emptiness of the eight directions.

“I rode in a carriage on a tour of the eight directions, circling and feasting in the Eastern Florescent Chamber. The Queen Mother of the West, a revered female immortal in Daoist legend, invited me up to the tower. I let out a long cry and rode upon the numinous wind. I came here because I was waiting for something, and so I crossed the Canglang waters.”

“The carriage soared among clouds and rosy mists, and I wandered above the glow of the sunset clouds. I danced freely through the skies, while a purple canopy bore up the numinous palace. Vermilion smoke curled around the banners; feathered robes billowed, bringing fragrant breezes. Thunder roared like a fierce beast, and lightning howled like a dark dragon. All the sounds of Heaven rang together in the courtyard, as the zhu, an ancient stringed instrument, played music like the notes of divine bells. I gathered numinous mushrooms on the banks of Canglang and picked flowers on Mount Bाचun. My face grew younger day by day. Through long cycles of tribulation, I remained like an infant.”

Cultivation of the Dao must not be pursued solely for one’s own benefit, and great Dao cannot be achieved through action alone. Those truly endowed with the potential for immortality mostly live hidden away in the mountains and forests, far from the human world, remaining detached and untroubled. Thus their faces are like infants’ and their temples remain dark. Jade liquor, golden nectar, and Jiaoli fire dates are all elixirs that can help one soar, but they are no match for the Golden Elixir.

The marquis Ren’s cultivation has not yet become pure, and his mind is full of distracting thoughts. I fear these immortal substances will not be willing to come to him. If sincerity is not single-minded, the Dao will show no favor to anyone, so one should not ask rashly. The Jiaoli fire-date tree has already taken root in your heart, but at present it is entangled with thorns, so you cannot see either of these two trees. Can you cut away the thorns and bring the tree into view? This tree grows alone, and its fruit must be excellent. Though you say you are asking, in your heart you hope to obtain it. I will ask on your behalf. The person responsible for this matter says to ask again after three years, counting from today.

Quiet emptiness and calmness can be maintained; a vigorous yet serene state can be maintained; and a yielding, receptive state that knows the white can also be maintained. “Dark and desolate” refers to going away alone and cultivating alone. In the Crimson Palace, the Daoist inner alchemical term for the abode of the mind and spirit, can you open the gates above you, ascend straight to Mount Kongtong, and reach the distant, mysterious realm? The principles are easy to hear; the difficulty lies in sincerely believing them. Scriptures are easy to obtain; the difficulty lies in putting them into practice. If people could remain this way throughout, true immortals would fill the world, standing shoulder to shoulder, and I would have no fault for failing to bring this about. If your resolve is unsteady yet you seek scriptures, do you intend to sell them? If you are unwilling to commit yourself yet seek the truth, you are merely making a vain request. You may tell these words to the Senior Official Xu.

When the fifteenth day of the tenth month arrived, the poem about the grand gathering at the Jade Terrace on the day of the autumn equinox was recited once more.

The Great Lord of the Azure Lad and four Perfected Ones each chanted a hymn of truth, accompanied by the strings of the Broad Resonance of the Mysterious Jun (a tuning used in Daoist music). The Lord of the Azure Lad chanted:

“To nurture the root of freedom from life and death, one must pull out the roots that bind one to life and death. If you sink into hesitation and fall into the Nine Springs (the underworld beneath the earth), it is only because you cannot bear to part with this body.”

The Perfected One of Great Void chanted:

“When the spirit dwells in the body, it is like riding in a carriage or on horseback. When the carriage is wrecked and the horse dies, everything bound up with them is only a temporary illusion. How sad that people of the world do not understand this. They concern themselves only with calming the wind and fire within themselves (the breath and agitation of body and mind). They sow offenses beneath Heaven’s net, then endure suffering in the hells.”

The Perfected One of the Western Citadel, Lord Wang, chanted:

“The spirit is like a boat carrying the body; once it reaches the shore, the two should part. The body is not the spirit’s everlasting dwelling, nor does the spirit remain attached to the body forever. We wander through the cycle of life and death only because the heart clings to its doubts.”

The Perfected One of Lesser Sublimity, Lord Wang, chanted:

“Lose the right path, and you will reach the ferry to death; the Three Souls (the three souls described in Daoism) have lost the way to life. The years of life diminish day by day, while death draws nearer. How sorrowful this painful countenance, like roots and blossoms set in the wrong places. Rise, and at once you move toward withering; sit, and you gradually decay. Who could know that one might return to youth?”

Another Immortal Perfected composed a poem as a gift for Lord Xu:

“The clear and bright Great Dao is hard to reach; its deep mystery cannot be exhausted. Lord Xu is just such a person: as the sun (the Radiant Spirit) rises above the hill, he has already soared beyond the rosy clouds, flying through the nine heavens. He sets an example that draws many Perfected Ones to him, and comforts the people in the Golden Tower (the celestial palace).”

First poem

“His virtue is generous and harmonious; his teaching is upright and peaceful. Truly, he was born gifted and exceptional, with a bearing worthy of the reverence of later generations. He cultivates his body in stillness among the eastern mountains, and the Seven Spirits (the spirits within the body described in Daoism) naturally communicate with one another. The turmoil of the mortal world grieves me; even this white-haired old man is nearing his end. After I lie down in eternal sleep, I will still regret gazing upward, lamenting that I did not follow the immortal way sooner.”

Second poem

“Halting his carriage, he let the people gaze upon him…”

I stopped the carriage and looked back toward the place where Shushen lived. Then I turned the carriage around and returned to Canglang. I had not yet seen that immortal go forth; merely thinking of him by chance, I could not find a way to settle my mind. Taking advantage of the spring light, I gave voice to what I felt and set my worries aside for a while.

Part Three

The carriage rose and traveled through purple clouds, taking in the Eight Views and Gualiu. A feathered attendant, a boy who served the immortals, brought the jade nectar, and Yuhua laid out rare delicacies for a farewell feast. We agreed to meet beside White Water, where I would raise the ornate beads and jewels I wore.

Part Four

The immortal dwelling in Cangfang reflected the rosy light of the east; purple palaces appeared amid the crimson dawn. Two perfected immortals, both rich in De, upheld the Dao lineage and guarded the frontier of the True Earl. From the Eight Terraces, one could look far to the north and see Feiyuan. In that pure and tranquil place, I gazed toward the clouds, my form receding into the distance as I moved slowly across the sunlight. At Dongling I breathed in the numinous essence of mountains and rivers; in seclusion on the eastern mountain, I concealed my radiance. To remain long in the human world means never having a moment of leisure. How could that compare with Elder Yi’s constitution, which could restore a child’s complexion?

Part Five

At dawn, the celestial gate was formed of Great Rosy Clouds, and the jade chamber appeared clear in the heights above. I took in the wonders of the Three Marvels and rode drifting shafts of light as I flew through distant, hidden realms. Scarlet blossoms hung in the sky; the Golden Palace nurtured vital energy of exceptional purity. Winds from the eight directions stirred the brocade curtains, while green trees shone upon the spirits of the four quarters. The canopy shaded a radiance like that of orchids; purple reins guided the green plow-cart. With steadfast faith, one communicates with the spirits, and in all encounters follows Heaven’s sincerity. Why be moved by outward appearances? Must one see the precious jade and fine gems with one’s own eyes?

Part Six

The three lights of sun, moon, and stars shine with abundant beauty in the hidden, mysterious realm. The heavens reflect across the four directions, bright and open. Scarlet clouds float above the high celestial palace, while numinous winds roam freely. Beating my wings, I rode the clear breeze and rose into the Jade Terrace. The green canopy entered Xiechen; the blue carriage headed for Kongtong. I bowed to the Eastern Forest Emperor, then went up to pay court to the Sovereign of Great Void. The Jade Guest split open a phoenix’s brain, and we drank our fill of flying-blossom nectar. Cloud music resounded through the winding sleeping halls, its thousand melodies clear and sweet. Brocade banners summoned fierce beasts; splendid pennants streamed in orderly rows. Xiangmu bent to sing, and purple smoke rose as though propping up the roof beams. Gathering the reins, I reached the lofty palace and unharnessed the carriage at the dwelling of the beautiful one.

In ancient times, before destiny had yet revealed itself, wondrous transformations already followed the movement of Qi. The mind and spirit reached toward the hidden, mysterious realm, and the years of life accumulated into a longevity like that of an ancient tree. If the body is content with the sights, sounds, tastes, and pleasures of the dusty world, then both movement and stillness lose the freedom of Canglang. My friend is truly not such a person; long ago, he forgot honor and disgrace.

Part Seven

Crimson radiance—the red splendor of an immortal realm—appears in the deep dawn of the celestial world. A purple celestial carriage travels through cloud and mist. It rises above the green gates of Heaven and looks down on the city of vermilion fire. In the east, rosy clouds spread their vast brilliance, and divine light shines upon the Seven Spirits of Heaven. Light and shadow mingle, illuminating the Three Lights—the sun, moon, and stars—as they turn and move, in accord with nature and the hidden world. A clear breeze circles the empty heavens, while fragrant music sounds in time with the beat.

Hand in hand with the Weaving Maiden, I dance with her to the place of broad radiance, where divine light shines upon the Seven Spirits. Light and shadow mingle, illuminating the Three Lights; they turn freely, in accord with the hidden world. A clear breeze coils around the empty heavens, and fragrance and music rise in time with the beat. Together we dance in the Courtyard of the Gourd Star. The green-feathered banners wheel to the left, and the ornate canopy tilts with the clouds. At peace above the ninefold heavens, I have no part in the tumult of right and wrong. Holding fast to my true nature, I dwell in the Great Stillness, and my golden immortal form grows younger day by day. How unlike those sunk in sin and defilement, living wretchedly with nowhere to turn.

△ No. 8

Three horses draw the purple celestial carriage through the clouds to a valley on East Forest Mountain. Banners on every side light up the sky, and the vermilion chariot flies toward Spirit Mound, the mountain of immortals. A jade canopy veils the Seven Celestial Splendors, while immortals beat their wings and drift high above. Nine kinds of music resound through the purple heavens, and the sound of jade ornaments reaches the Great Void. In the Palace of the Three Dawns, we feast and chant, singing aloud and calling to our companions. Before we know it, the long-lived tree has grown old, and the years have slipped away with the sun and moon. Though the fair ones can forget worldly affairs, they have not yet laid aside their many sorrows. The vast forest is indeed a fitting place for quiet; among the mountain crags, one finds many delights.

△ No. 9

We climb north to the Gate of Mysterious Truth, hand in hand, and ascend to its heights. Fragrant smoke spreads among the eight directions, while the Mysterious Wind stirs crimson clouds. We rise above the crossing to the Jade Garden and look down upon a valley on Cloud-Mound Mountain. A jade flute plays above the clouds, and the phoenix’s call carries into the depths of the nine heavens. Riding the breath, we drift through the Great Void—why tread the mountains and rivers? A golden token bears the command to the feathered spirits, dispatching divine troops to subdue the myriad demons. Together we absorb the radiance of the sun and moon; after a thousand years, we remain youthful as infants. Those who lose their true nature and plunge into a world of rivalry—what can one say to them if they do not understand?

Looking up at Tai Xia Palace, I see golden towers shining in Purple Clarity, the celestial realm. Its splendid halls reflect Great Simplicity, the pure and unstained heavens, and every window on all four sides is adorned with vermilion jade. I drive my wheeled carriage across the Hollow Ford, the crossing to the land of immortals, and guide the reins as we dance among green trees. The Jade Radiance Immortal flies toward us, white as a covering of snow; the Queen Mother of the West turns clouds that shimmer like embroidered brocade. Though I dwell amid the dust and filth of the mortal world, I have suddenly arrived at the courtyard of a lovely woman. The resonance of immortal affinities gathered in the past brings a Perfected One to my side; the celestial realm I prayed for has long since appeared in the hidden world. Riding the wind, we make music and welcome the morning light, drinking together the immortal wine in a vessel of cinnabar jade. Lords and dukes may enjoy their moment of glory, but how could they understand the mysteries of the Perfected One?

△No. 11

At dawn I pay homage to Crimson Clouds, gather primordial Qi, and roam above the clouds. Turning and circling, I tread across winding waves, until at last I see the sorrows of humankind. Feelings knotted in words surge up and linger, circling my heart like the Three Blossoms, the fabled herbs of immortality. Why not journey through the Mysterious Land, play the zither for your own delight, and bring joy to yourself? Why remain burdened by the affairs of the tangible world? Amid all that exists, I wish to reach a state of attachment to nothing.

△At last I see the sorrows of humankind. Feelings knotted in words surge up and linger, circling my heart like the Three Blossoms. Why not journey through the Mysterious Land, play the zither for your own delight, and bring joy to yourself? Why remain burdened by the affairs of the tangible world? Amid all that exists, I wish to reach a state of attachment to nothing.

△No. 12

Riding the light of the sun and moon, I ascend to the morning clouds and travel to Canglang Palace for a feast. Colored clouds encircle cinnabar clouds, while numinous Qi spreads across the skies in every direction. The Highest Perfected chant in jade chambers; exalted immortals sing in rooms adorned with precious jade. Nine phoenixes sound the Vermilion Flutes, while hollow clappers and feather bells ring in interwoven rhythms. We all dwell within the Golden Court and form bonds of sincere immortal friendship. Drinking together the jade brew, in an instant we are young again. Why keep crouching at the crossroads of the dusty world? Failings and vexations will only increase day by day.

△No. 13

At dawn I visit Great Simplicity Palace, driving my carriage to behold the Jade River, the celestial stream. At dusk, I hold a feast in a remote and secluded immortal realm; at dawn, I gather the essence of the full moon. I play instruments and make music on the Northern Cold Terrace, while the Seven Spirits shine upon the purple clouds. Hosts of exalted immortals rise and ascend in orderly ranks, while people of the mortal world remain behind, stranded on earth. Wandering through the noisy turmoil of the dusty world, how could one’s accumulated failings and burdens not grow numerous?

△No. 14

Riding swiftly on clouds, at dawn I climb Tai Ting Hill. Crimson Ford connects with ranges of mountains; clear waves drive the deep currents. Treading on empty air, I survey the Nine Celestial Coordinates, and have traveled through all eight directions of the heavens and earth. For a while, I hold a feast at the Three Golden Blossoms, a place of spiritual splendor in the immortal realm, and meet companions who are steadfast in their commitment to cultivating the Dao. Diligence and idleness cannot cancel each other out, so troubles accumulate day by day.

I crossed the Canglang waters and suddenly arrived at Mount Jin. I looked around and spent the whole day wandering at ease, yet rarely saw the immortals among the clouds.

Sixteenth

The purple heavenly towers rise high above the clouds, and secluded immortal halls reach into the distant windswept sky. Rare treasures spread through the sacred park; flowers and trees bloom, their brilliance hardening like jade. I ride swiftly past the Canglang ferry, while winds from all directions stir music among the clouds. Holding a feather fan, I see clouds veiling the north; then, grasping a tally, I sound a golden flute. Phoenix-like music rings out with a thousand bells, and immortal youths in the west sing the morning’s melody. Beyond the void, my heart opens wide—how clear and vast my thoughts become. I whirl and dance among the mountains of the great expanse, as the Six Qi—the six forces moving between Heaven and Earth—circulate in the deep and hidden realms. How could you follow my path? May it keep you from withering away.

Seventeenth

The waters of Canglang surge in waves, and the broad ferry gathers and churns a myriad streams. Riding a carriage bright as sunlight, I gaze across the six directions above and below, thinking of traveling with my beloved. Who will answer this wondrous song? To whom can these clear, ringing notes be carried? I race along in a jade chariot among the clouds. Why should I keep company with those of the dusty world?

Eighteenth

Pines and cypresses grow on secluded mountain ridges, thriving and upright, outstanding among the winter woods. Their branches are dense; even when ice forms in the bitter cold, they do not fear the snow. In a troubled age, those who withdraw among the layered mountains can still keep their hearts true to the Dao. I set my light chariot in motion and take the path once traveled by recluses of old. The life of dukes and nobles may be entered or left at will—why can I not leave it behind for good?

Nineteenth

I wish to live quietly in seclusion on the eastern mountain, dwelling in a hidden sacred grotto beyond the sun’s reach. The courtyard is still and empty, shaded by thick, green trees. The bright sun shines on the southern window, and a warm southerly breeze enters the quiet room. In my tranquil chamber, I sit with folded hands, following the path once traveled by recluses of old. The life of dukes and nobles may be entered or left at will—why can I not leave it behind for good?

Nineteenth

I wish to live quietly in seclusion on the eastern mountain, dwelling in a hidden sacred grotto beyond the sun’s reach. The courtyard is still and empty, shaded by thick, green trees. The bright sun shines on the southern window, and a warm southerly breeze enters the quiet room. In my tranquil chamber, I sit with folded hands, arranging to explore the mysterious arts of the Dao with someone from afar. My spirit is clear, my thoughts reaching into the hidden depths; inwardly at peace, I feel free and at ease.

Twentieth

I release my spirit and sail into a boundless, clear ferry, tighten the reins, and urge on my vermilion carriage. Why does my beloved delay in coming? When will the virtue of the Great Dao be perfected?

Twenty-first

Parables contain truths that can be put into practice. If we refuse to apply them, we betray their deeper meaning. How can I ride the tracks of a numinous chariot and seek out these celestial beings in the sky? Even the faintest sound can carry profound meaning; when we hear it, we should attend to it carefully and never dismiss it. In all things, we must follow the wondrous moment of opportunity. Only then can we preserve ourselves and witness an age of peace.

Twenty-second

I harness the splendor of the sun and moon, descending beside the waters of Canglang, then soaring to the ferry at Qinghai. Crimson clouds and mist stir the sun, while a feathered canopy sweeps across the Nine Heavens. A cloud chariot glides through the open sky; in an instant, it reaches the blue waves. I have come in search of fellow seekers of the Way, to join hands in serving the Emperor of Dawn (the Celestial Emperor). The prince joins with those of radiant virtue to summon the worthy. Below, we gaze upon the Palace of Eight Rivers, among the immortal realms; above, we make our home on the peak of Xilin. Drinking and rinsing with the essence of purple jade, we come to know the hardships of the earthly road. Where is that fair one now? Only through diligent practice can we draw near to her.

Crimson palaces are arrayed across the vast heights of the sky. Clad in rosy clouds, I ascend to the Chamber of Radiance, an immortal’s dwelling. Purple banners flutter among the clouds, and immortals dance with the morning breeze. We halt our chariot to bathe in the emerald stream, then go to Moon Branch Peak to gather its numinous treasures. We chew the essence of the Three Spirits and breathe out the radiance of the Nine Gods. Life endures like the chun tree, and the years stretch without end; we unite with the sun and moon, gradually building our practice. Hand in hand, we come to the Hall of Clear Truth and look up in longing toward the Supreme Sovereign, the highest Celestial Emperor. Beijun, a deity or immortal official in the immortal realm, sings for the feathered immortals; Wang Xuan’s radiance shines upon the worthy. Why remain amid the earthly surges, letting gain and loss weigh on the heart? In the noisy world, we should rouse our spirits and sweep away what is impure. Those accustomed to a human life mixed with honor and disgrace seldom ascend to the immortal palace of Xilin. What is there to trouble us about quieting the mind? We might as well leave the world behind and look upon the waters of Canglang.

Precious and beautiful things mingle in fragrant harmony; the purpose of the Dao meets in the mysterious heavens. I straighten my robes and set out to seek companions in the quest for truth, only to return once more to the dust and turmoil of the world. Fine De reflects a mysterious radiance, while those of outstanding talent shine in their flourishing glory. Secret teachings often bring blessings; stillness, Wuwei (non-action), and preserving one’s true nature are most precious. We should always follow the Yin and Yang energies of Heaven and Earth, joining hands in unity and understanding. Why remain amid the turmoil of human affairs, giving rise day after day to anxiety and distress?

When the Lady first descended, she recited this poem to encourage people to cultivate the Dao (the Way). She worried that some might give up halfway through; abandoning the path midway would bring them even greater misfortune. She repeatedly admonished Lord Xu and Yufu: both had already been entered in the registers of the immortals, and should deepen their mysterious De (Virtue) day by day and strive harder to advance in rank among the immortals.

She then recounted the words with which Lord Qingtong urged those who studied the Dao: they should pull out the roots of love and desire, as if removing a string of hanging pearls one by one, until every last one was gone. He also said that when oxen and horses carry heavy loads into mud, they only sink deeper. Those who cultivate the Dao but still cling inwardly to worldly desires should cast them off as soon as they can. One should look at the ox stuck in the mud, hoping only for a chance to catch its breath and rest.

If, while reading Daoist scriptures, one can grasp the meaning of cultivating the Dao, it is like enjoying fine food: the taste delights all five organs and six viscera, and lingers even after the meal. Those who can do this will attain the Dao.

Lady Ziyuan also spoke to the Lady about the assembled Perfected Ones. “There are five difficult things in the world,” she said. “It is difficult to give generously when poor; difficult to study the Dao when wealthy and honored; difficult to master one’s own fate and avoid death; difficult to gain access to the Cavern scriptures, the esoteric Daoist classics; and difficult to be born after the Renchen year and live in a sacred age.” She said that she had once heard the Great Lord of the Dao say: “De has no form. Merely knowing it brings no benefit; what matters is holding fast to one’s resolve and putting the Great Dao into practice. It is like polishing a mirror: once the grime is removed, its brightness appears, and one can see one’s own form. By cutting off the six emotions and desires and abiding in emptiness and stillness, one can personally experience the reality of the Great Dao and understand one’s own destiny from past lives.”

Lady Xuanqing said: “People in the world are burdened by wives, children, and households. This affliction runs deeper than imprisonment. A prisoner may still be pardoned; but people willingly enter the snares of desire bound up with wives and children, even when these bring calamities as deadly as a tiger’s jaws. Such karmic offenses have no pardon. This is why they are called ‘household burdens’: they bind and weigh a person down, keeping them from roaming freely. Yet people do not understand that they must let go of craving and attachment, release their burdens, cleanse their thoughts, cultivate the Dao, and preserve themselves.”

At the gathering when Lord Yang descended in his Perfected form, ten Ladies were recorded with their names and ranks, but no biographies or songs were preserved for them. They are therefore all listed here together.

The Lady of the Left, a numinous consort of Great Harmony and an Upper Perfected One (a female immortal in the realm of Great Harmony, ranked among the Upper Perfected Ones and seated on the left); the Lady of Northern Sea, Six Subtlety and Mysterious Clarity; the Lady of the Right, Sevenfold Spirit of Northern Han; the Lady of the Right of the Central Land of the Supreme Ultimate; Lady Jiang of the Western Peak, Mother of the Way of Eightfold Spirit; Lady Wei of the Eastern Palace, an Upper Perfected One; Consort Guan, a high-ranking lady of the Northern Terrace of Zhu Mausoleum; Lady Shan of Northern Peak, an Upper Perfected One; the Lady of Western Han; and Lady Du of Changling.

When Lord Yang held an assembly to welcome the Perfected Ones’ descent, these ten ladies each had their title and immortal rank recorded, but no biographies or poems were preserved for them. They are therefore listed together here.

That evening, twenty-three Perfected Ones and fifteen ladies descended to Lord Yang’s home at the Golden Altar.

○ Mother Ying

Yingmu’s family name was Chen and her given name was Ying. No one knew where she came from. During the Western Jin, she lived at Huangtang Abbey in Danyang Commandery, devoting herself to cultivating the Great Dao over many years. Local people had known her from childhood through old age, yet her hair and appearance never changed. For this reason, they called her “Yingmu,” or “Mother Ying.”

Once, Yingmu went to a market in the Wu region, where she met a boy of about fourteen or fifteen. He came forward to pay his respects and said, “I am destined to become your son.” Yingmu asked, “You are so young. Where have you come from, and why do you bow to me as your mother?” She did not understand what he meant and did not dare agree. She wondered how the two of them could simply become mother and son and depend on one another. The boy sighed sorrowfully and left.

A little over a month later, Yingmu again encountered a child at a market in the Wu region. The child was about three years old, seemed to have no home, and cried through the night. When Yingmu approached, the child grabbed her robe and would not let go. Someone urged her to adopt him, saying that he would one day be better than a son born to her. As he grew, he became perceptive and discerning, filial and respectful, and unlike ordinary people in his conduct. In adulthood, he had an exceptional bearing. Strange clouds and radiance often appeared around his dwelling. He stayed by his mother’s side, and at times spoke of immortal realms such as Penghu and Langfeng.

Yingmu sensed that he was extraordinary and asked, “You and I have become mother and son only for a time. What is your title?” Her son replied, “Long ago, I received a revelation from the Heavenly True One—the innate numinous spirit spoken of in Daoism—and was given a sacred writ and a title. I was appointed to be called the Bright King of Filial Piety. That is how you should address me now.”

He then told Yingmu how to cultivate the Way: “You should often practice on a high, mysterious terrace, stay far from people of other kinds, and dwell in seclusion among quiet hills, taking in the harmonious Yang energy. Keep the mind still and peaceful, set your thoughts on the mysterious realms of the immortals, and turn your inner contemplation toward the Great Void. Study the Yellow Emperor and Laozi Jade Book and the Great Cavern Perfect Scripture transmitted by Lord Yuan Ying, along with the Seven Origins of Brilliant Radiance and the Supreme One’s Way of Hidden Mystery. Then you will gain a light, floating canopy of an immortal and ride a carriage of flowing rosy clouds, gazing from afar toward the Terrace of Literary Eminence.” These descriptions portray the state sought by Daoist practitioners who pursue transcendence through quiet seclusion, breath cultivation, and recitation of scriptures.

Those who attain this set of Daoist teachings can hear nine phoenixes singing together, their heavenly music shaking the empty sky. Their bodies rise lightly as they guide the courses of the sun and moon, while scenes from the eight directions appear in the air. Riding in a dragon chariot beneath tiger banners, they can travel freely in every direction. Those who attain this method can also ride in a light carriage, driving a chariot drawn through flowing rosy clouds and gazing from afar at the Wenchang Terrace, the celestial palace of the star official. You should cherish this teaching!”

Later, King Xiaodao Mingwang quietly disappeared. The Lady Chen then secretly practiced the Great Method, and for decades no one knew of it. Later, Wu Meng and Xu Xun traveled south from Mount Song and came to the Lady Chen, asking her to transmit the Daoist teachings she had attained. She entered into an alliance with them and passed on the teaching of filial piety. The two then continued on to Jiangnan.

In a moment of leisure, the Lady Chen told them, “People say that I was once Xu Xun’s teacher. But in the Jade Emperor’s register of immortals, Wu Meng now serves as Censor, while Xu Xun serves as the Grand Envoy of High Illumination, overseeing the registers of the immortals. Their ranks have changed. Each also governs one of the Twelve Branches, with responsibility for the region corresponding to one of the twelve states. Xu Xun governs the field of Xuanxiao, corresponding to the Zi position; Wu Meng rules the state of Xingji, corresponding to the Chou position. Xu Xun should rank above Wu Meng, according to the order of immortal ranks.”

Several years later, a dragon carriage amid clouds arrived with a thousand carriages and ten thousand horsemen to welcome her, and the Lady Chen ascended to heaven in broad daylight. Today, forty li east of Gao’an County in Hongzhou stands the Huangtang altar sanctuary, a site for Daoist rites and cultivation. It is said that Xu Xun built a shrine there and paid homage to the Holy Mother. The account of the Lady Chen’s ascension is recorded in Danyang Commandery. Later, to avoid the tabooed name of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, the shrine sanctuary at Zhongling was renamed “Lady Chen.” The teaching of filial piety that she transmitted differs somewhat from the Lingbao teachings. People in the Yuzhang region have observed it for generations, and it is indeed worthy of praise.

Among the principles that guide human conduct, none is more important than filial piety. Those who honor their parents will surely also be loyal to their ruler; those who govern their families well can also bring peace to the state.

Their power to move Heaven, Earth, and the spirits, to strengthen human relationships, improve moral instruction, and transform customs; to bring clarity to the world beyond and order to all affairs within—of all things that can help spread and teach the Dao (the Way), perhaps only filial piety can do so. The principles of filial piety were bestowed by Heaven and flourished during the Jin dynasty. In the Yuzhang region, its customs are still observed today. Thus, the entire family of Xu Jun ascended to Heaven and was charged with governing the various kingdoms; all this came about through the power of filial conduct.

Lady Gouyi

Lady Gouyi was from the state of Qi and bore the surname Zhao. In her youth, she favored quietude. She fell ill for six years, during which her left hand remained tightly clenched and could not be opened. A diviner who observed the currents of Qi (vital energy) said, “In the northeast, there are signs of a person destined for distinction.” Following this prediction, people searched for her and found her, then summoned her to the palace. She was exceptionally beautiful. Emperor Wu of Han pried open her hand and found a jade hook inside; at once, her hand unfolded. The emperor took her as his consort, and she gave birth to Emperor Zhao.

Later, the emperor had her killed. After her body was placed in the coffin, it continued to give off a fragrance for a month. When Emperor Zhao ascended the throne, he had her reburied. When the coffin was opened, only a pair of silk slippers remained inside. People therefore called her palace “Gouyi Palace”; later, to avoid the name taboo, it was renamed “Dai Temple.” During sacrificial rites and visits of homage, people would sometimes see a spirit seated inside the temple pavilion.

The Two Consorts of the Xiang River

The two Consorts of the Xiang River were Shun’s wives. The elder was called Ehuang, and the younger, Nüying. In the past, when Yao grew old and weary, he no longer wished to attend to the affairs of the realm, so he sought out a worthy recluse to succeed him. Men such as Xu You, Chao Fu, and Shanjuan all declined and withdrew. Yao then searched far and wide. He heard of a widower who said, “Yu Shun was renowned for his filial conduct and virtue. Yao appointed him to serve and married his two daughters to him, thereby testing his conduct within the family. He also put him through many hardships to test his ability to govern. When Shun entered the deep mountains, he never lost his way, and he managed every task well. Yao therefore had him administer the affairs of state on his behalf for twenty-eight years. After Yao died, Shun observed mourning for three years, then ascended the throne. Shun was already sixty-one when he took power. He ruled for another fifty-one years and lived to the age of one hundred and twelve.

Shun made a southern tour to the region of Cangwu and stayed at the home of Lord He. The Five Elders of the Great Emperor—powerful deities of the celestial realm—arrived to welcome him in a chariot adorned with jade, bearing cloud banners and spread-wing canopies. Shun then ascended to Heaven and never returned. Lord He, too, departed with his entire family. At the time, the two consorts were searching for Shun at the foot of the mountain, but could not find him. They gazed toward the nine peaks, each of which seemed to them like the place where Shun might be, and, not knowing where he had gone, they wept toward the mountains. Their tears fell on the bamboo along the cliffs, leaving spots on its stalks. They looked across the peaks and suspected Shun was on each one in turn; this is why the place came to be called Mount Jiuyi, the Nine Doubts. Before long, the sincerity of their devotion moved Heaven and Earth, and they, too, became immortals and departed.

People at the time believed that the two consorts had sunk into the Xiang River, so they built a shrine for them. Inside, separate spirit tablets were set up for the Lord of the Xiang and the Lady of the Xiang. These titles reflect the sisters’ seniority: Ehuang should be the Lord of the Xiang, and Nüying the Lady of the Xiang. There was no separate deity called the Lord of the Xiang. On autumn nights, by moonlight, one can sometimes hear the celestial Shao music—the ancient music of Shun’s time—at Mount Jiuyi and along the banks of the Xiang River. Perhaps after ascending to Heaven, Shun governed the Purple Tenuity Palace and also guarded this mountain. Whenever he passed through on his travels, celestial music accompanied and guided him, its immortal melodies echoing through the sky. The popular name for this, “the Xiang spirit playing the zither,” is also a mistaken transmission.

People commonly say that the two consorts were Yao’s daughters and married Shun. This, too, is incorrect.

In accounts of the imperial lineages, Huangdi is called Di Hong, bore the surname Ji, and was the son of Shaodian. Other accounts say that his surname was Shaodian or Gongsun, and that his personal name was Xuanyuan. After the Shennong clan declined, the feudal lords grew resentful and rebelled one after another. Chiyou wantonly committed evil and brought calamity upon the people. Huangdi raised troops in the state of Youxiong to support the Mandate of Heaven. He later ascended the throne, defeated Chiyou, exterminated the descendants of the Jiang clan, and pacified the realm.

Huangdi’s son was named Zhishao. Huangdi’s imperial title was Shaohao, also known as Jintian. Jintian’s son was Zhuanxu, Zhuanxu’s son was Diku, and Diku’s son was Yao, known as Taotang and named Fangxun. By this genealogy, Yao was Huangdi’s great-great-grandson and Zhuanxu’s fifth-generation descendant. Yao was a second cousin once removed of Shun’s grandfather, while Yao’s daughter would have been Shun’s distant paternal aunt. Yao therefore should not have married his daughter to Shun; this is likely an error passed down in the historical records.

More likely, Yao wanted to test Shun’s Virtue (De) through careful scrutiny, so he gave him two women in marriage. The court historians later recorded them as Yao’s daughters. Ehuang and Nüying did not bear the surname Ji, and Shun’s title was not a posthumous name. The posthumous naming system (titles awarded to ancient emperors and nobles after death based on their lives) began with the Duke of Zhou. It was used to praise or censure rulers and ministers and to provide instruction and warning; only later did it become an established institution. Later generations applied the saying “one who guides goodness and transmits the sages is called Yao” to Yao. They took it to mean that Yao praised Shun by selecting him from among the people and yielding the realm to him. Because this virtue of abdication was revered by later generations, they bestowed the posthumous title Yao upon him.

As for the title Shun, the “Posthumous Titles” says, “one who is benevolent, sagely, flourishing, and enlightened is called Shun.” This, too, was a title added by later generations. Why do I say so?

According to the Shangshu, when Yao was preparing to yield the throne, he said to the Four Peaks—the tribal leaders who assisted the ruler, “You see, I have been on the throne for seventy years. Who can follow Heaven’s mandate and succeed me?” The Four Peaks replied, “Our virtue is too shallow for us to take on the throne.” Yao said, “Then recommend worthy and wise people widely, regardless of whether they come from a noble or humble background.”

Yao then said, “There is a man named Yu Shun among the common people.” He asked, “I have heard of him. What is he like?” The Four Peaks replied, “His father, Gusou, is foolish and stubborn; his mother is domineering; and his younger brother, Xiang, is arrogant and disrespectful. Yet Shun is able to live in harmony with them, and his filial conduct grows ever more profound.” Yao said, “I will put him to the test. I will marry my two daughters to Shun and have them live at Guirui, where the Gui River bends, as his wives. You must act with reverence and care.”

This passage says only that Yao married two women to Shun in order to test his virtue in managing a household. They may have come from the palace, or they may have been born among the common people, so there is no basis for concluding that they were Yao’s daughters.

After the First Emperor of Qin burned the books, scholars fled and scattered, and historical records were lost or damaged. The Shangshu was transmitted through oral recitation by Fusheng of Jinan, so its accounts may contain errors. It is therefore impossible to explain clearly where the title “Shun” came from. Shun already bore this title before becoming emperor; it was not a posthumous title, the same as with Fuxi, Shennong, Emperor Ku, and Zhuanxu. I hope learned scholars will investigate this question further.

○ The Goddess Mi of the Luo River (Mi Fei, who dwells by the Luo River)

Fufei of Luochuan, the goddess of the Luo River, was the daughter of the Fuxi clan. After attaining the Dao, she became a water immortal and took charge of the Luo River. She often traveled along its waters and mingled with groups of female immortals, delighting in outings and banquets. At times she appeared amid all kinds of auspicious transformations, changing unpredictably, much like clouds rising in the morning and rain falling at dusk.

Cao Zhi, Prince of Yongqiu in the state of Wei, was moved by the story in which Song Yu told the King of Chu about a goddess. He wrote “Rhapsody on the Goddess of the Luo” to portray her beauty: she was as light as a startled wild goose and as graceful as a swimming dragon; her radiant face was bright as an autumn chrysanthemum, and her figure lush as a spring pine. She seemed like a wisp of cloud veiling the sun, yet as she drifted she was like a circling breeze. She shone like the morning sun just risen and glowed like a lotus opening above green waves. Her body was light and swift as a flying duck; her movements elusive as those of an immortal. She stepped lightly across the water, her fine silk stockings stirring up a veil of mist. These are all embellished and exaggerated descriptions by a literary writer.

As for immortals who have attained the Dao and ascended to true realization, their rank and realm are lofty and removed from ordinary people, and it is not easy to summon or encounter them. Song Yu’s description, with its suggestion of romantic love between a man and a woman, may therefore refer only to an encounter with a high-ranking immortal.

Fengyi took the Rainbow Elixir and became a water immortal, ranking among the River Lords. The daughter of the Zhenmeng clan, also known as the Qixiang clan, learned the essentials of the Yellow Emperor’s Dark Pearl and became a water immortal in charge of the headwaters of the Min and Tuo Rivers. Wu Ji’e obtained the Elixir of Jade Pistils and ascended to the moon palace. This shows that water domains were not governed only by female immortals serving in the offices of the Taiyin realm; immortal offices were assigned in different ways. Lord Lü took water jade and became a River Earl, while Tianwu took mica and became a water deity. Male immortals, too, served as water officials.

Fengyi loved cultivating the Dao. After meeting Juanzi, he received the Rainbow Elixir. Once he took it, he became a water immortal and ranked among the River Lords. The daughter of the Zhenmeng clan learned the essentials of the Yellow Emperor’s Dark Pearl and became a water immortal in charge of the sources of the Min and Tuo Rivers. Wu Ji’e was Yi’s wife. Yi was responsible for archery and guarding the Yellow Emperor’s palace. When he entered the palace, he obtained the Elixir of Jade Pistils and gave it to Da’e. After taking it, Da’e ascended to the moon and became an immortal official there.

In addition, the Five Sacred Peaks, Ten Mountains, Nine Rivers, and Eight Marshes all had offices for immortals and numinous residences. These kept records of people’s offenses, blessings, and merits, and also administered the treasures, numinous herbs, and divine fungi found in the mountains and rivers. Some were also in charge of the true scriptures and jade registers within the grotto-heavens. The duties of immortals were not fixed: some served for a thousand years, others for five hundred, and they could also be transferred or promoted. The wondrous realm of true immortals is cut off from the human world, and ordinary people have no way of knowing it.

The Woman of Yangdu

The woman of Yangdu was the daughter of an innkeeper in Yangdu. She was born with an unusual feature: her eyebrows joined together and were slender and long, like divine mushrooms, the numinous herbs of the immortals. It was said that at times she oversaw the true scriptures and jade registers of the grotto-heavens, blessed abodes where immortals dwell. Her appointment was not fixed: sometimes she served for a thousand years, sometimes for five hundred, and at other times she was transferred elsewhere. The mysterious realm she inhabited was remote and cut off, beyond the knowledge of ordinary people.

The woman of Yangdu had an extraordinary appearance. Her eyebrows extended all the way to her ears, fine and long. People found this strange and suspected that she was a celestial being.

At that time there was an immortal of Black Mountain named Duzi, a native of Ye. He lived for long periods on Black Mountain, gathering pine seeds and poria mushrooms, which he had been eating for several years. People did not know his real name. They saw only that he often rode a yellow calf, so they called him “Duzi,” or “Calf.” At times he looked young, at other times old; sometimes he appeared ugly, and sometimes exceptionally handsome.

Duzi often visited the inn in Yangdu. The woman of Yangdu was very fond of him, and in time the two became companions. One day she followed Duzi out to pick peaches. They returned after spending the night away, bringing back many peaches packed into their bags. The fruit was sweet and unlike ordinary peaches. The villagers waited outside, hoping to see them leave. As soon as the two stepped out, they led the calf together and sped away, swift as flight, beyond anyone’s reach.

Later, the two returned to live in the town for several decades, then departed together as husband and wife. Some time afterward, people saw them at the foot of Pan Mountain, selling peaches there in winter. An ode in the Wenxuan mentions “Duzi paired with joined brows”; this refers to Duzi and the woman of Yangdu, whose eyebrows met.

Du Lanxiang

Du Lanxiang’s origins are unknown. There was once a fisherman who went away with his wife. Later, people saw them at the foot of Pan Mountain, selling peaches there in winter. An ode in the Wenxuan mentions “Duzi paired with joined brows”; this refers to Duzi and the woman of Yangdu, whose eyebrows met.

No one knows Du Lanxiang’s origins. Legend tells of a fisherman who made his living fishing around the Xiang River and Dongting Lake. One day, he heard a baby crying by the shore of Dongting Lake. He searched the area and found only a girl about three years old. Feeling pity for her, the fisherman took her home and raised her.

When the girl was in her teens, she was exceptionally beautiful, with an extraordinary air, as though she were an immortal from the heavens. Suddenly, a spirit in the form of a boy dressed in blue descended from the sky and came to the fisherman’s home to take her away. As she was about to ascend, the girl said to the fisherman, “I am the immortal maiden Du Lanxiang. Because I committed an offense, I was banished to the human world. My term is now over, and I must leave.” With that, she rose into the air and departed. Afterward, she would sometimes return to visit.

Later, Du Lanxiang descended to Baoshan in Dongting Lake and came to the home of Zhang Shuo, who was probably a Daoist practitioner. She stayed with him for three years, teaching him the Way of bodily ascent and transformation into an immortal. Zhang Shuo later attained the Dao and became an immortal as well. On her first arrival, Du Lanxiang left behind a jade tablet, a jade spittoon, and red fireproof cloth—a legendary immortal fabric that was unharmed by fire—as proof of his attainment and ascension.

Another night, she ordered a maid to bring Zhang Shuo a yellow-scaled feather cloak, crimson shoes, a black cap, a crane-feathered robe, a cinnabar jade pendant, and a spirit sword. She said, “These are worn by high immortals; they are not ordinary possessions found in a grotto-heaven.” The account does not clearly state what rank Zhang Shuo held among the offices of the immortals after he became one, so it is difficult to describe this in detail.

In time, the fisherman also gradually grew young again. He often went without food and practiced the Dao around the Jiang and Xiang rivers. After that, no one knew what became of him.

Volume Six: The Mother of Xu

Xu Mu was from Yuzhang. Outwardly, she lived among ordinary people, but inwardly she cultivated the Daoist teachings. She once said, “A thousand years ago, I lived on Western Mountain. When the entanglements of the mortal world have gradually subsided, I should return there and attain the True.”

Her son was named Lie, with the courtesy name Daowei. He lost his father at an early age. He was renowned for his filial devotion to his mother, treating her with respect and care and always attending to her daily needs and feelings. Though the family was poor, he did all he could to care for her and never let her go without a delicious meal. The people of their village praised him for this.

During the reign of Emperor Wu of the Western Jin, two men from the same commandery, Wu Meng and Xu Xun, devoted themselves to the Daoist teachings, communed with the spirits, and spread the transformation of the Dao. They lived on Hongya Mountain, where they built an altar and established a Jing, a place for Daoist practice and ritual. After Wu Meng’s death, Xu Xun used precious talismans and authentic registers—Fulu (talismans and registers)—to aid the people, and he was revered by those near and far. Xu Xun once served as a clerk in the prefectural government. Later, he returned home on the first and fifteenth days of each month to pay respects to his mother. Some people saw him travel back and forth riding a dragon, as though the journey were only a short distance.

Xu Daowei was a sincere and loyal man, and Xu Xun trusted him greatly. Daowei and his mother made a thatched home for themselves just over eighty paces northeast of Xu Xun’s residence. They attended to Xu Xun morning and evening with care and reverence, never growing slack. Xu Mu often went to the foot of the mountain to gather flowers and fruit and bring them to Xu Xun. He valued her sincerity and had long hoped to help her transcend the mortal world and become an immortal.

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month in the second year of Yuankang during Emperor Hui’s reign, the year Renzi, the Most High, a revered Daoist deity, ordered the Jade Perfected High Lord Cui Wenzi and the Great Mystery Perfected Minister Xiaqiuzhong to invest Xu Xun with the title “High and Illustrious Master, Great Envoy of the Immortals of the Nine Provinces.” Xu Xun rode a cloud chariot beneath a feathered canopy and ascended to Heaven in broad daylight. He said to Daowei and Xu Mu, “I have received the Great Emperor’s command and cannot remain in the human world for long. You may continue your cultivation; in time, you too may hope to ascend with me to immortality.”

Mother and son were overcome by grief and joy. They bowed again to Xu Xun and asked to accompany his cloud chariot. He agreed, gave them elixirs, and personally taught them the authentic formulas. At noon, they ascended to Heaven with him. An altar and a well still remain there today. The villagers do not dare to decorate or repair the site, or to cover it over, because Xu Mu and her son had always lived simply. The place is therefore known as the “Xu Mu Altar and Jing.”

The Mysterious Lady of the Nine Heavens

The Nine Heavens Mysterious Maiden was the Yellow Emperor’s teacher and a disciple of the Primordial Sovereign Mother. At that time, the Yellow Emperor was ruler of the state of Youxiong and assisted Shennong in governing the world. After Shennong’s grandson Yugang grew weak, the feudal lords attacked one another and warfare raged without end. They occupied different directions and adopted titles based on the Five Phases: descendants of Taihao called themselves the Azure Emperor; Shennong’s descendant Yugang called himself the Red Emperor; the Gonggong clan called itself the White Emperor; and descendants of the Getian clan called themselves the Black Emperor. The Yellow Emperor rose to power in Youxiong and called himself the Yellow Emperor. He treated people with humility, honored worthy men, and carefully cultivated De (virtue and power). He ruled for twenty-two years.

Chiyou rebelled. His eighty-one brothers all had beastlike bodies, yet could speak human language. With copper heads and iron foreheads, they ate sand and swallowed stones, took no grain, and transformed into the shapes of five tigers to harm the people. They forged weapons on Gelu Mountain and refused to obey the Yellow Emperor’s commands. Preparing to campaign against Chiyou, the Yellow Emperor searched widely for worthy and capable men to assist him. He found Fenghou by the sea and Limu in a great marsh. He appointed Dahong as his assistant and Tianlao as his teacher. He also established three ministers, symbolizing the three stars of the Celestial Terrace: Fenghou served as the Upper Terrace, Tianlao as the Middle Terrace, and the Five Sages as the Lower Terrace.

At first, the Yellow Emperor obtained a treasured cauldron in which food cooked without a fire. He observed the sun’s shadow and calculated the calendar, appointed Fenghu as a general, and made the son of his consort Feixiu crown prince. He also appointed Zhang Ruo, Xipeng, Limu, Rongguang, Longyu, Cangjie, Rongcheng, Danao, Tulong, and others to assist him. Later, the Yellow Emperor fought Chiyou at Zhuolu but initially could not win. Chiyou used magic to conjure a dense fog that lasted three days, leaving the entire army disoriented. Fenghou used the direction of the Big Dipper’s handle to make a south-pointing chariot. Its ladle-shaped pointer indicated south, allowing the four directions to be determined.

The Yellow Emperor was troubled and uneasy, so he undertook a period of fasting and purification at the foot of Mount Tai. The Queen Mother of the West sent an envoy dressed in black fox fur. The envoy gave the Yellow Emperor talismans and registers and told him, “Pray to Heaven with focused sincerity, and you will surely receive a response from the Highest One.”

Several days later, dense fog spread everywhere, and daylight grew dim. The Dark Maiden descended on a red phoenix amid auspicious clouds. Wearing robes of nine colors, she came before the Yellow Emperor. He bowed twice and received her instructions. The Dark Maiden said, “I have come on the Supreme Emperor’s command. Ask me whatever you wish.” The Yellow Emperor bowed until his head touched the ground and said, “Chiyou is violent and tyrannical, slaughtering the people. People across the four regions cry out in grief, their lives in peril. I wish to obtain a method that will make me invincible in battle, so I can rid the people of this scourge. Is that possible?”

The Dark Maiden then taught the Yellow Emperor a series of military talismanic texts and methods: the military talismans of the Six Jia and Six Ren; documents for the Lingbao Five Emperors’ command over ghosts and spirits; the Five Luminaries Seal for subduing demons and communicating with spirits; the method of the Five Yin and Five Yang Hidden Stems; the essential charts for the Supreme One’s Ten Essences and Four Spirits to determine victory and defeat; and the key techniques of the Five Weapons and the River Chart’s plans for refining the essence. The Six Jia, Six Ren, and related systems belong to Daoist methods of divination and calculation. Here, the talismans, texts, seals, charts, and instructions refer to arts and military strategies that enlist spirits and numerological methods to assist military campaigns.

The Yellow Emperor again led the feudal lords into battle against Chiyou in Jizhou. Chiyou arrayed spirits of the mountains and forests and various demons, brought the Rain Master and Wind Earl to guard him, and ordered Yinglong to store up water and attack the Yellow Emperor. The Yellow Emperor found ways to counter these tactics and eventually defeated and killed Chiyou in the Wilderness of the Severed Bridle, in the region of Central Ji. He had Chiyou’s body buried in four separate tombs. Later, Yugang defied his orders, and the Yellow Emperor executed him in the Wilderness of Banquan, then drove the Xunyu people northward. With the four regions pacified, the Yellow Emperor toured the frontiers, covering a total of twenty-eight thousand li. He cast a cauldron, demarcated the Nine Provinces, appointed officials to oversee the Five Phases and the Nine Virtues, observed Heaven and Earth, sacrificed to the myriad spirits, established laws, and spread instruction. Later, he mined copper at Mount Shou and cast a cauldron at the foot of Mount Jing. A yellow dragon came to greet him, and the Yellow Emperor rode it up to Heaven.

○ Lady Sun

Lady Sun was the wife of Zhang Daoling, the Celestial Master of the Three Heavens. She once lived in seclusion with him on Mount Longhu, where for many years she practiced the “silent worship of the Three Origins,” a method of cultivation involving quieting the mind, visualizing the Three Origins, and paying homage to them. Her practice repeatedly brought responses from the spirits, who came down to appear before her.

The Celestial Master Zhang Daoling obtained from the Yellow Emperor the art of the central elixir of Longhu. After refining and taking the elixir, he could divide and transform himself, appearing and disappearing unpredictably; he could also make his body vanish while sitting or standing. Traveling from Poyang to Mount Songgao, he obtained hidden texts and the art of commanding destinies, which enabled him to control and summon ghosts and spirits. At that time, the world was in turmoil and those in power faced grave danger. Confucian and Daoist teachings had declined and could scarcely restore order or help the age. Zhang began cultivating the Dao only at the age of fifty. Even after completing the elixir, he spent another twenty years refining his arts before attaining their subtle perfection.

After this, he traveled through Shu, visiting its famous mountains and putting his teachings into practice. His wife remained in quiet cultivation south of the Yangtze, spreading the transforming influence of the Dao far and wide. In the first year of Yongjia under Emperor Chong of the Eastern Han, an yiyou year, Zhang Daoling came to Shu and settled in Yangping, where he cultivated the Golden Elixir of the Nine Elixirs. Following the Yellow Emperor’s methods transmitted by the Primordial Lord of Great Unity, he spent many years refining the elixir until his work was complete. He could then transform his body, ascend to heaven, and accomplish anything. In the ninth month of the second year of Yongshou under Emperor Huan, a bingshen year, he and the Celestial Master ascended bodily to heaven in broad daylight at Yuntai in Langzhong. They took their place among the Highest Perfected, and she became the Lady of Mount Tai.

Their son Zhang Heng, whose courtesy name was Lingzhen, carried on his father’s aspirations through cultivation. People called him the Successor Master. On the twenty-third day of the first month in the second year of Guanghe under Emperor Ling, a jiwei year, he ascended bodily to heaven in broad daylight at Yangping. His grandson Zhang Lu, whose courtesy name was Gongqi, was known as the Lineage Master. When the Eastern Han court fell into decline and the Central Plains descended into turmoil, he governed Hanzhong as governor of Liangzhou and Yizhou and as General Who Guards the South. The Ancestor of Wei, Cao Cao, granted him a noble title on the command of Emperor Ling. Later, when Liu Zhang lost Shu and the Former Lord Liu Bei raised an army, Zhang Lu claimed that he had transformed and departed, returning to the Real and concealing himself.

Wang Zi’an wrote on the memorial stele at Yangping: “The Successor Master’s return to the Real had its appointed time; on this mountain he realized the Great Dao. He turned back the mists and set the clouds in motion, so that the deep heavens seemed spread across the earth. The wild geese sped forth, the phoenix carried the message, and he ascended bodily to heaven in broad daylight. The divine officials stood guard in solemn array as his sacred form rose into the distant heavens. The elders of western Sichuan wished to follow the phoenix, but knew no way; the outstanding people of the southern lands gazed up toward the dragon’s whiskers, yet could not reach them. Thus the day the Successor Master ascended to heaven later became a day for purification rites and offerings in his honor.”

At first, when Lady Sun lived at the place of transformation, people from near and far admired her Daoist conduct, and many came to pay their respects and seek an audience. Later, as she tended the furnace and cauldron and refined elixirs with exacting care, she worried that the crowds and noise of visitors might lead to a loss of reverence. She therefore caused a spring to appear at the foot of the mountain, so that those who came to pay their respects could wash and rinse their mouths before entering the Daoist sanctuary, the place where Daoists lived and cultivated. This spring was called the “Water for Removing Impurities,” and it remains there to this day. The Celestial Master also left a method for drawing water from a stone well. It was said that when men and women drank it, they would receive a spiritual response; the water was also used in a ritual for seeking children.

The mountain has three tiers, symbolizing the realms of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing). At its front is Boyang Pond, traditionally said to be where the Most High Lord Lao traveled, admired the scenery, and held banquets. At its rear is the Grotto of Ascending to the Real, whose depths are said to connect with the immortal mountains and grottoes of Qingcheng, Emei, Qingyi, Xixuan, Luofu, and Dongting. For this reason, the site is regarded as the foremost of the Twenty-Four Transformations.

The Silkworm Maiden was originally the essence of the Fang constellation, an ancient asterism. During the reign of Gaoxin, a legendary ruler of antiquity, the region of Shu had no single ruler to unite it. Only the Shushan clan ruled its own territory. The tribes lived separately, with no authority over one another, and often raided each other; the strong preyed on the weak.

The Silkworm Maiden lived in the area of present-day Guanghan, but her family name has been lost. Her father was seized by a neighboring tribe and had still not returned after more than a year. The only thing left at home was the horse he had ridden. Missing her father, the Silkworm Maiden could neither eat nor drink. To comfort her, her mother promised the people of the tribe, “Whoever can bring her father back will be given my daughter in marriage.”

The people heard her promise, but no one could rescue her father. The horse overheard them, suddenly broke free of its reins, and galloped away. Several months later, the Silkworm Maiden’s father returned riding that same horse. From then on, the horse whinnied day and night and refused to eat or drink. When her father asked what was wrong, her mother told him about the promise she had made. He said, “Those words were promised to a person, not to a horse. How could a human marry a creature of another kind? The horse did indeed perform a great service by rescuing me from danger, but the promise cannot be fulfilled in this way.”

The horse continued to whinny and kneel, and eventually even tried to harm people. In anger, the father shot it with an arrow and hung its hide out to dry in the courtyard. As the Silkworm Maiden passed by, the hide suddenly leapt up, wrapped around her, and flew away with her. More than ten days later, the hide landed in a mulberry tree, and the Silkworm Maiden transformed into a silkworm. She ate mulberry leaves, spun silk, and made cocoons; from her silk came fine patterned cloth and quilts for people to wear and use. Thus the silkworm came into being.

Her parents deeply regretted what had happened and could not put it out of their minds for a long time. One day, the Silkworm Maiden descended from the sky on a rainbow cloud, riding the same horse and accompanied by several dozen attendants. She said to her parents, “The Most High, the Daoist title for the supreme deity, judged that I was filial, steadfast in purpose, and mindful of kindness received, and granted me the rank of Immortal Consort of the Nine Palaces. I have attained long life, so you need no longer worry about me.” With that, she rose into the sky and departed.

The Silkworm Maiden’s tomb is said to lie where the three counties of Shifang, Mianzhu, and Deyang meet. Each year, people seeking a successful silkworm season come from far and wide to pray, and their prayers are often answered. In Shu, folk tradition has images of the Jade Maiden made in Daoist temples, with a horsehide draped over her. She is called the “Horse-Headed Lady,” and people pray to her for flourishing sericulture and mulberry cultivation. According to popular legend, her body once hung from a tree, which was therefore called the “mulberry tree.” It is also said that, because she was ashamed to have become an insect, she came to be called the “silkworm.” The Ode to the Record of the Sages states, “A woman, in gratitude to a dead horse, transformed into a silkworm, weaving clothes and bedding for all under heaven to wear and use.” The text also says that silkworms and horses belong to the same kind, and from this we know that the Silkworm Maiden was transformed from the Fang constellation.

Peng Nü was the granddaughter of Peng Zu. Peng Zu’s surname was Jian and his personal name was Keng. He was a great-grandson of Emperor Zhuanxu and a son of the Lu Zhong clan. Shun recommended him to Yao. Peng Zu was skilled at preparing soups and once offered Yao a soup made with pheasant. Yao believed that anyone who knew how to season food must understand the art of nourishing life, and that anyone who understood how to nourish life must also be able to govern the people well. He therefore enfeoffed Peng Zu at Pengcheng.

Peng Zu’s Daoist arts were worthy of emulation by later generations. The people of Peng had heard of his deeds for generations, so they called him “Peng Zu,” meaning the ancestor of Peng. Pengcheng lies in Xuzhou. After attaining the Dao, Peng Zu did not wish to ascend to Heaven. Instead, he traveled widely and once lived in Shu for many years, where he had many descendants. For this reason, Shu has place names such as Mount Peng and Tianpeng Gate. The Book of Rites says that Wei, Lu, Peng, and Pu all belonged to Shu. Near the headwaters of the River Jiang stands Mount Tianpeng, whose two peaks resemble the paired towers at a palace gate. They stand more than forty paces apart and are called “Peng Gate.” Tradition holds that Peng Zu once lived in seclusion there, which gave the place its name.

Peng Nü, too, mastered the art of nourishing life and practiced under Peng Zu. She lived for several hundred years. She worshipped with diligence and devotion, never neglecting her observances, morning or evening. Today, on Mount Peng Nü, there is a stone used for worship bearing marks said to have been left by Peng Nü as she prostrated herself, her elbows and knees pressing into it. Impressions of her clothing and hair bun are also visible, about an inch deep. Whenever people travel between Pingdong and this mountain, they regard the place as where Peng Nü manifested herself. One day, Peng Nü ascended to Heaven from there. Later, when a county was established in the area, it was named after the mountain. Before the dingyou year of the Yuanhe era, the successful candidate Zhan Ben erected a stele recounting this story. It is also recorded in detail in the Chronicle of Shu.

The Pengcheng in the Feng and Pei region was the place where Peng Zu was first enfeoffed. The state of Great Peng was once a powerful kingdom and one of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period.

In the fifth month of the third year of Guanghua in the Tang dynasty, the gengshen year, three cranes arrived and built a nest together in a juniper tree at the Peng Nü Abbey. The nest was six feet wide. The provincial governor, Sima Zhang Lin, reported the event to the ruler of Shu. The Prince of Xiping prepared incense and lamps, held a Daoist purification ritual, and built a Daoist temple. That night, thousands upon thousands of divine lamps rose into the sky, lighting the woods and mountain slopes. The event was submitted to the court in an illustrated report. The court issued an edict commending it and included it in the History of the Tang Dynasty.

Nongyu

Nongyu was the daughter of Duke Mu of Qin, and she loved playing the xiao. At that time, a man named Xiao Shi was highly skilled at playing the instrument. Duke Mu married Nongyu to him and built a high terrace for them to live in. Nongyu studied the xiao for more than ten years until she could play sounds like a phoenix calling. Phoenixes then came and settled on their terrace. The couple lived there for several years without ever coming down. One day, they rode off on a phoenix and flew away. Duke Mu then ordered a shrine to the Phoenix Maiden built at Yong Palace, where the sound of the xiao could often be heard.

The Wife of Yuanke

Yuanke’s wife was a goddess. Yuanke was from Jiyin. He was handsome, and many people wanted to marry their daughters to him, but he never took a wife. For many years he cultivated five-colored fragrant herbs, and for decades he lived on their fruit. Later, five-colored moths flew in and gathered on the herbs. Yuanke collected them and covered them with cloth for protection; the moths then transformed into magnificent silkworms.

When the silkworm-raising season came, a woman arrived on her own and helped Yuanke raise the silkworms, feeding them fragrant herbs as well. When they had matured, they produced 120 cocoons, each as large as a vat. It took six or seven days to reel the silk from each cocoon. When the reeling was finished, the woman and Yuanke departed together. A shrine to the magnificent silkworms still stands in Jiyin.

Changrong

Changrong was the daughter of the Shang king. She cultivated the Dao on Mount Chang, living on the roots of penglei for more than two hundred years, yet her appearance remained that of someone around twenty. She could gather purple gromwell and sell it to dyers; the color produced by her gromwell was exceptionally vivid. She used the money she earned to help the poor and the sick.

Changrong often traveled between towns, and people of many generations had seen her. More than a thousand households, near and far, venerated her, yet no one knew what Dao she cultivated. She often walked at midday, but cast no shadow beneath her. Some said she could refine away her physical form. Later, she suddenly ascended to heaven.

At a pass in Hanzhong, there was a woman who sold wine. No one knew where she came from or what her surname was. By chance, she met a diviner named Zixian, whose origins were also unknown. He looked to be in his fifties, yet said he had lived for several hundred years. The wine seller thought him extraordinary and often treated him with respect.

One day, Zixian suddenly came to her and said, “Quickly pack your things and come with me to welcome the King of Zhongling.” That night, two people indeed arrived, bringing two dogs made of bound straw. They gave one to Zixian and the other to the wine seller, telling them to ride them. The straw dogs turned into dragons, and the two followed them up Mount Huayin. They often called out loudly, “Zixian and the Mother of Wine are here.” Before long, their deeds were recorded and regarded as the Way of the Immortals and Sages.

Nüji was a wine seller at a market in Chen. The wine she brewed was often fragrant and mellow. An immortal passed by her home and drank her wine, then had her ride a dragon and took her with him up Mount Huayin. They often called out loudly, “Zixian and the Mother of Wine are here.” Before long, their deeds were recorded and regarded as the Way of the Immortals and Sages.

Nüji was a wine seller at a market in Chen, and the wine she brewed was often excellent. When an immortal stopped at her home for a drink, he offered five scrolls written on plain silk in payment for the wine. Nüji opened them and saw that they contained methods for becoming an immortal, cultivating life, and attaining longevity. She secretly copied down the essential instructions and practiced them. After three years, she looked much younger, appearing to be about twenty.

Several years later, the immortal returned to drink on credit. Smiling, he said to her, “To learn Daoist methods in secret without a teacher’s guidance is like growing wings without knowing how to fly.” Nüji then followed him away and lived in the mountains for many years. People often saw her, but later no one knew where she had gone. The place where she once lived is now called Mount Nüji.

The daughter of the Prince of Hejian was the wife of Xuansu. Xuansu had attained the Way of the immortals and had been traveling around the Hejian region for several hundred years. Local people said they often saw him: at noon, he cast no shadow on the ground. He took only badou and mica, and also sold these medicines in the marketplace. He charged two coins for seven pills, which were said to cure all kinds of illness.

The Prince of Hejian fell ill. He bought and took the medicine, then expelled more than ten snakes. Xuansu asked what had caused his illness and said, “Your Highness’s illness was brought on by calamity left behind by six generations of ancestors; you did not bring it upon yourself. In the past, Your Highness once released a doe. She was the mother of a qilin. Your compassion moved Heaven, so naturally you came to meet me.” An elderly retainer in the prince’s household said, “I often heard my parents say that Xuansu casts no shadow at noon.” The prince summoned Xuansu to be examined, and it proved true.

From a young age, the Prince of Hejian’s daughter would not eat meat or bloody foods. She was quiet by nature and loved cultivating the Dao. The prince therefore gave his daughter in marriage to Xuansu. Several years later, Xuansu and his wife entered Changshan, and people continued to see them afterward.

○ Cai Nü

Cai Nü was a female official in the palace of the Shang king. She learned the art of nourishing the spirit when she was young, and lived to be more than 270 years old, yet still looked like a girl of fifteen or sixteen.

At first, when the Shang king heard that Peng Zu had attained the Dao, he appointed him as a senior official and enfeoffed him in Peng. Peng Zu often used illness as a reason to live in seclusion and took no part in government affairs. He took mica powder, musk, deer antler, and cassia bark from Shui Gui, among other substances, and his appearance always seemed youthful. He was quiet by nature and never claimed to possess the Dao. The Shang king visited him to seek instruction, but never managed to obtain an answer from him. Peng Zu accepted the precious curiosities the king gave him and used them to help the poor, keeping almost nothing for himself.

The Shang king built splendid residences and purple towers in the palace, decorated them with gold and jade, and had Peng Zu live there. He then ordered Cai Nü to travel by carriage to Peng Zu and ask him about the art of preserving life. After paying her respects, Cai Nü asked how to prolong life and increase longevity.

Peng Zu replied, “If you wish to transform your body, ascend to the heavens, and take up an office among the immortals, you should take the Golden Elixir of the Primordial Lord Taiyi, an elixir said in Daoist tradition to grant immortality. This can enable you to ascend in broad daylight. This is the highest and most profound Daoist method, and is not suited to a ruler. Next comes cherishing Jing, nourishing the spirit, and taking herbal medicines to prolong life. But these methods still cannot enable you to command ghosts and spirits or fly through the air. After that comes harmonizing the Yin-Yang Qi, practicing daoyin exercises and bending and stretching, so that the joints and Qi throughout the body flow freely without obstruction and illness cannot invade. Other methods include visualizing spirits, realizing the true Dao, sitting quietly in self-forgetfulness, and refining and nourishing bodily fluids. These, too, can help people live long lives.

“As for the arts of Yin-Yang union and the method of replenishing the brain with a surging flow, they are difficult to practice and dangerous, like walking through brambles or stepping on blades. They are also unsuitable for a ruler. The Daoist methods I have heard of are shallow; I know only these, and they are not worth publicizing widely. In Dayuan, an ancient kingdom in the Western Regions, there is a Master Qingjing who is already a thousand years old, yet still looks like a child. Sometimes he goes a whole year without eating; at other times he eats nine meals in a single day. You may ask him about his methods.”

Cai Nü asked, “What kind of immortal is Master Qingjing?”

Someone replied, “This is merely attaining the Dao; it does not mean one has become an immortal. Some immortals can leap into the clouds and fly without wings. Some ride dragons and tigers up the heavenly steps. Some transform into birds or beasts and roam the blue sky; others dive into rivers and seas or fly among famous mountains. Some consume primordial Qi, while others gather and eat lingzhi mushrooms. Some come and go among ordinary people, while others live in seclusion in the mountains and forests. Their faces bear unusual features in their bones, unlike those of ordinary people, and strange hairs grow on their bodies. They delight in remote, quiet places and keep their distance from worldly people.

“As for ordinary people’s way of preserving life, they should eat delicious food in moderation and wear clothes that are light and suitable. Even when holding office, they should handle affairs with ease and understand the changes of Yin-Yang. Their hearing and sight should be keen, their sinews and bones strong, and their complexion healthy. Even in old age, they should not grow frail, but be able to extend their years and live long in this world. Cold dampness, wind, and heat cannot harm them; ghosts, spirits, and strange beings cannot disturb them; weapons and venomous creatures cannot injure them. Neither sorrow and joy nor slander and praise can burden them. To achieve this is precious.

“As long as people living in this world know how to nourish themselves and use the right methods, they can live to the age of one hundred and twenty. If they fall short, it is because they have suffered harm. Great drunkenness, overeating, intense joy or anger, excessive heat or cold, overexertion, and pushing body and mind to their limits all cause harm. Extreme pleasure, sorrow, fear, shock, agitation, impatience, extravagance, and indulgence in desire also cause harm. Excessive hunger or thirst and too much worry are harmful as well. Sitting, standing, lying down, or walking for too long also injures the body.

“Keep cold and warmth in due measure, and do not eat too little or too much. Do not let your thoughts wander or act recklessly; remain calm and still. Only then can one speak of nourishing the body. Once longevity has been attained, continuing to nourish oneself by the proper methods may extend one’s life to two hundred and forty or four hundred and eighty years. The key is not to harm the body. Staying warm in winter and cool in summer, in harmony with the seasons, is for the body’s comfort. Meeting beautiful people and graceful forms without being enticed by desire is for the free flow of the spirit. With regard to carriages and horses, clothing, and matters of appearance and etiquette, knowing contentment and not pursuing them endlessly is for keeping the mind focused. Encountering music and colors without becoming absorbed in them is for holding fast to one’s original mind.”

These things are originally meant to nourish people. If a person cannot use them in moderation, they can instead cause harm. The sages therefore left this warning: those of lesser ability are easily captivated by them, indulging without restraint and lingering until they cannot bear to leave. When they are used improperly, practitioners of the Dao advocate moderation, which also makes it easier to govern oneself. Thus it is said: “Those of the highest rank sleep in separate beds; those of the middle rank sleep under separate quilts. Even taking a hundred kinds of medicine is no better than sleeping alone.”

Beautiful sights can damage the eyes, licentious sounds can damage the ears, fragrant odors can clog the nose, desire can unsettle the mind, and flavors can dull the mouth’s ability to distinguish. If these are regulated in moderation and used properly, they will not shorten one’s life but may instead be beneficial. It is like water and fire: used to excess, they can harm people.

People do not realize that their meridians have already been damaged, their Qi and blood depleted, and their bodies weakened inside; their marrow and brain are not adequately nourished, and they have long been ill. This is why they are so easily affected by external influences, with wind and cold, drinking alcohol, and sexual relations then triggering illness. If the body were truly strong and well-nourished, how could it fall ill?

Excessive longing and desire harm the body; worry, resentment, and grief harm the body; excessive joy harms the body; anger that cannot subside for a long time harms the body; urgently craving what one loves harms the body; fretfully worrying about one’s troubles harms the body; failing to regulate cold and heat harms the body; and a lack of harmony and union between Yin and Yang Qi also harms the body. There are many causes of bodily harm. To regard sexual relations as the sole source of harm is profoundly misguided.

Thus, men and women come together and jointly bring life into being, just as Heaven and Earth interact to generate the myriad things. Relations between the sexes can also be used to nourish the spirit and help people maintain harmony of body and mind.

By day, Heaven and Earth separate; by night, they unite. They unite 360 times in the course of a year. Thus the four seasons remain in harmony, all things grow, and life continues without end amid boundless change. Heaven keeps moving, Earth remains still, and Qi stays in harmony. All things can therefore grow, and Heaven and Earth can endure.

If people cannot follow the constant patterns of Heaven and Earth, but cling to one extreme, isolate themselves and live alone, wear fewer clothes, and abstain from food and drink, they bring illness and death upon themselves. This is truly foolish. Besides nourishing the body and keeping a measured daily routine, one may also take in Primordial Harmonious Qi (the harmonized original vital energy). Once its method is mastered, harmful spirits cannot enter. This is the foundation of caring for the body.

The methods I have collected—such as contemplating the radiance and focusing the mind on spirits, guiding and stretching the body through the organs, and swallowing and taking substances—number more than 1,700. They also include practices for facing certain directions in each season, reflecting on and admitting one’s faults, and setting times for rising and retiring. These can teach beginners and guide them toward goodness, gradually setting their minds straight and reducing their transgressions, but they cannot immediately enable someone to attain the Dao. If the blood vessels have already withered and the spirit and Qi have weakened, how could merely visualizing spirits or reciting the names of perfected beings sustain them? Such practices may bring no benefit. This is what happens when foolish people cultivate the Dao by pursuing peripheral details and neglecting the root: they fail to nourish the spirit within, yet wear out the body without; their original Jing gradually diminishes, and their spirit and Qi become exhausted and depleted. Still, they toil day and night reciting scriptures and instructions, to no avail. When they see no results over time, they blame the Daoist methods for being ineffective and accuse the ancients of deceiving them. That, too, is wrong.

My master said, “The thirteen thousand texts, such as Unraveling the Knots and Concealing the Form and The Nine Chambers of Wuwei, merely point the way to the initial stages of practice.” Cai Nü, a legendary female immortal, passed on all the essential instructions to the king. He tried practicing them, and each proved effective. The king also studied the way of Peng Zu, the legendary methods of health cultivation and practice attributed to Peng Zu, and also…