《天乐集》Vol. 11

On the Seventeen Works of the Dao

Fu Jinquan’s Seventeen Secret Works on Attaining the Dao by the Master Jiyi, abbreviated as the Seventeen Works of the Dao, includes texts such as The Heart Seal of Subtle Mystery and Zhang Sanfeng’s Alchemical Instructions. All are devoted to the human-origin yin-yang school (a line of internal alchemy that takes male–female dual cultivation and the union of Kan and Li as its core). So asking whether the Seventeen Works of the Dao are orthodox or heterodox is really asking whether yin-yang alchemical methods are orthodox or heterodox. Haiyinzi answered: “Having roamed the Dragon Treasury, as soon as a text meets the eye one can tell at once”—meaning he had read widely in the Buddhist canon (the Daizang); when a scripture appeared before him he could naturally distinguish, and he had a clear sense of right and wrong, yet he did not state a verdict plainly, which likely reflects constraints on what he could say openly. From his wording he also did not flatly declare the works heterodox; he especially mentions “Five-Village Abbey” and “ginseng fruit” and the like, intending to open the reader’s discerning eye—worth pondering carefully. —Noted by Sheng Keqi

Appendix II: Letters in Reply to a Friend (Five Letters)

Haiyin Shanren

First Letter

In the Qing, Wang Menglou studied Buddhism all his life; after eighty he also pursued immortality cultivation, and his exchanges with visiting “immortals” are attested in his poetry. Your letter says things like “why did he slide downhill only in old age”—that view is mistaken. Learning the Dao is precisely to cope with the three sufferings of old age, sickness, and death. At eighty one is already old: spirit flags, walking is hard, eating and drinking go wrong, ears and eyes fail, hair turns white and the face wrinkles—death is not far. If someone can relieve the pain before one’s eyes, the heart gladly follows; that is human nature.

Menglou had genuine insight in Chan. His dealings with immortals were mostly immortals passing him methods to extend life and dispel illness; breath regulation could ease present suffering, and he was glad to follow—again human nature.

Meng Lou had considerable insight in Chan practice. In his exchanges with immortals, what they mostly taught were methods for extending life, dispelling illness, and regulating the breath to settle the spirit—bringing him real, tangible benefits and easing the distress of chronic illness. Buddhism is certainly profound, but much of it is discourse; few can verify it in the present moment. To claim one cannot even resolve the suffering of old age and sickness yet can be liberated from the suffering of death; to say one cannot attain sainthood in this life yet can do so after death—in his view, such claims are self-deception.

Daoist cultivation cares only about “this move right before you”: if you can settle the spirit and regulate the breath now and gain genuine benefit, there is no need to ask what will happen later—you will know naturally. Learning the Way is like a merchant buying goods: pay cash on delivery; no promissory notes, no credit. Many who study Buddhism today seek future benefit or rebirth after death—they are all using promissory notes. Whether those notes can be honored when they come due is uncertain. The proverb “won’t take cash, insists on credit” fits the mindset of many Buddhists today.

Have you not read the Sutra in Forty-two Sections, among the earliest Buddhist texts translated into China? The Buddha asked, “In how many intervals does human life lie?” The disciples answered in turn; none satisfied him. The last answer alone matched what most Buddhists today actually think.

Have you not read the Sutra in Forty-two Sections, among the earliest Buddhist texts translated into China? The Buddha asked, “In how many intervals does human life lie?” The disciples answered in turn; none satisfied him. The last one said, “In the space between breaths.” Only then did the Buddha praise him, saying he “knows.” What does this mean? What has breath to do with the Way? Know this: where breath is, there the Way is. Since human life lies between breaths, why not settle the spirit and regulate the breath before breath is cut off, so you do not “go bankrupt”? Once breath stops, your cash is spent. Even if you hold promissory notes, where will you cash them? How can you bear to wait until bankruptcy—that is sheer folly.

One

Your letter says: “Human life is between breaths—only a metaphor for how brief it is: if inhalation never stops and exhalation is used up, life is spent. Even if one holds a paper ‘term note’ (a metaphor for the voucher of lifespan), where is it to be cashed when due? How can one bear to sit and wait for ‘bankruptcy’ (death)? That is too muddled.”

Two

Your letter also says: “Human life is between breaths—only a metaphor for how fast it is: inhaling does not guarantee there will be exhaling,” and so on. My friend, you have grasped only half. If it were merely about “fast” and “short,” the World-Honored One (the Buddha) would have said “Excellent! You know the time,” not “Excellent! You know it.” From this we see the point is not really about time.

“The Dao is in the interval of breath” truly teaches regulating the breath to settle the spirit. Breath is the wind-aspect of thought; when breath is regulated, the mind is stable; when breath is harmonious, the heart is at peace. When ordinary people flare up in anger, the mind is agitated and breathing is rough; when running a race the heart races and breathing is short. The dead have no breath because the heart (Shen) has left; one in deep samadhi also has no breath because the heart is utterly still.

Therefore, cultivation should be tuned all the way from “still able to feel the breath” to “no longer feeling either the in-breath or the out-breath”: outwardly it seems there is no inhaling or exhaling at all, and inwardly the mind no longer rises or falls with arising and ceasing thoughts. When the mind does not rise and fall and the breath has no coming or going, that is the state of great samadhi (dading)—also the place where the Dao rests.

There is no need to seek far away. Consider how the twenty-seventh patriarch of Chan, Venerable Prajñādhara, answered the king of East India. The venerable said: “When this poor monk exhales, he is not pulled by the ten thousand conditions; when he inhales, he does not stick in the five skandhas and six entrances. In this way he constantly turns the sutra—hundreds of thousands of millions of scrolls, not merely one or two.” He took regulating the in-breath and out-breath as “turning the sutra”: turning the sutra that is on one’s own body, not the sutra written by someone else. When spirit and qi harmonize with the breath, fine and continuous as if always present, the inner landscape is pure and still and the outer scene is empty and blended—is this not exactly “on the out-breath, not following the ten thousand conditions; on the in-breath, not dwelling in the realm of the skandhas”? It is also the kind of practice Lao Zi described as “concentrating qi to achieve softness, carrying and embracing the soul in oneness.”

Turning another person’s sutra certainly brings great merit; turning the sutra of one’s own true breath brings even greater merit. Turning a sutra with written words already ranks very high; turning a sutra without written words ranks higher still. Yet people often abandon what is near to chase what is far, reaching high while neglecting the ground—they cannot even manage a single breath, and still talk of everything else.

Today those who study Buddhism number in the tens of millions, yet they set aside the Sutra in Forty-two Sections and do not study it, finding it too plain and close at hand. They are also blank about the meaning of “human life lies between one breath and the next,” while dreaming of becoming a Buddha in this very body—yet they have not a penny of the capital for Buddhahood. It is like someone without a single coin wanting to be the boss of the pre-liberation mega amusement firms Yong’an and Sincere—how is that not laughable?

Plain-Language Reading of Record of Heavenly Joy

The Sutra in Forty-Two Sections is the first rung on the ladder of learning Buddhism; yet establishing the practice hall within a single breath in and out is even more the heart of that sutra.

The Yellow Court Classic as transmitted in the Tang says: “Behind there is the hidden gate, before the gate of birth; as sun goes out and moon comes in, store [essence] through breathing”—in the passes front and back in the body that correspond to sun and moon, one keeps qi through breath. Chen Xubai said: exhaling and inhaling without break, when the sacred embryo is complete one merges with the primordial beginning. Xu Jingyang (Xu Xun) said: when true qi within the body meets breathing, natural creation can turn old age back to youth. Li Daochun said: one closing and one opening answer to Qian and Kun—this is the gate of the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin); once there is no longer going out and coming in, one alone is honored in the three realms. He also said: read carefully the books of the sages of the three teachings—the character for “breath/rest” (xi) is simplest; if one works on breathing, becoming Buddha or immortal takes no wasted effort.

Zheng Heyang said: human life with a heart must have heart-and-breath; heart and breath rely on each other and cannot be split; if one goes against natural breathing, one instead harms the heart and makes heart and breath harm each other; when heart and breath rob each other, the six demons attack and the heavenly soul is driven into the ghost realm. Ju Junzi—breath is the root of ten thousand goods in one’s own heart. When breath is smooth the heart is at peace and the hundred parts are easeful; the great treasury of light rests steady as a whetstone; round and alive, not a hair’s shadow sticks; nature and life pure and whole can compare with Heaven. Shakyamuni’s subtle words are not about something else; what Old Master Laozi discusses in the Dao De Jing is also here. Yan Hui with a single bamboo basket and gourd cup found joy—truly seeing breath preserved and not daring to slacken. Even if one expounds ten thousand canons and a thousand scriptures, it is only the realm fixed by heart and breath.

Look at the closing line and “when breath is smooth the heart is at peace and the hundred parts are easeful,” and you will see the meaning of The Sutra in Forty-Two Sections that “the Dao is in the space between breaths,” and the subtle practice of establishing the hall within one breath. The Treatise on Consciousness-Only is fine, but it cannot cure white hair and stomach illness—better to turn the wind and blend it back: only the simplicity and wonder of “breath/rest.” Whether this is so, you may examine closely.

In your letter you say you no longer wish to discuss the Hinayana Sutra in Forty-two Sections, but rather the Mahayana Surangama Sutra and Avatamsaka Sutra. I will therefore speak along the lines of the Surangama and Avatamsaka.

Have you noticed that in the Surangama Sutra, in the passage on “twenty-five holy ones each realizing perfect penetration,” two of them attained the exhaustion of outflows and Arhatship by harmonizing and following the in-and-out breath? One was Udraka Ramaputra, who said: When the Buddha asked about perfect penetration, according to what I realized, reversing the breath and following emptiness is foremost. The other was Sundarananda, who said: When the Buddha asked about perfect penetration, I extinguished conceptual mind; through long breath-regulation I awakened; clarity complete, outflows extinguished—this is foremost.

What is meant by “reversing the breath and following emptiness” is that outer breathing ceases, qi is exhausted and transforms into spirit (Shen), and spirit-light shines forth. Moreover, in the Surangama’s “Ten Abodes,” the phrase “body and mind combined, daily increasing” refers to mind and breath mutually depending and forming the sacred embryo (sheng tai). It also says: “Having entered the embryo of the Way, personally receiving the heir of awakening, like the embryo complete, the human form not lacking”; “the tenfold body of spiritual marks, all complete at once”; “the form completed and born from the womb, personally becoming the Buddha’s child, abiding as Dharma Prince”—this is the meaning of the embryo of the Way perfected and the True Person appearing.

Worldly people only know that the Surangama criticizes the ten kinds of immortals, but they do not know that these ten kinds belong to the category of earthly immortals (di xian)—the Hinayana path within immortality cultivation. The lineage transmitted under the pillar aligns with the Surangama’s Ten Abodes; its profundities are grasped by those who receive the true transmission. Among Mahayana scriptures, none matches the Surangama more closely in spirit with the mysterious school’s aim of “regulating breath to form the embryo, nourishing the embryo until birth.”

The Tiantai school teaches that in one lifetime a person can at most realize the first of the Ten Abodes in the Perfect Teaching—the Initial Abode (chuzhu), the stage at which one first settles into the bodhisattva path. The Xuanmen path (here meaning Daoist internal alchemy and dual cultivation of nature and life) holds that in a single life one can complete all Ten Abodes; those of superior capacity, after finishing the ten abodes, can leap in one bound straight to Equal Enlightenment and Wonderful Enlightenment (the two final stages of Buddhahood).

When the ten abodes are fully cultivated, one has already attained the Dharma body and enjoys limitless lifespan, so one can pursue the Way at ease. The hardest step is crossing from ordinary person into entering the abode. What counts as entering an abode? The abode must be eternally abiding—if one still perishes when the physical body dies, one has not yet realized eternal abiding. Eternal abiding is long life: life can abide eternally, and nature can abide eternally.

Setting aside the Surangama Sutra for the moment, consider the ten kinds of mastery in the Avatamsaka Sutra, Chapter on Leaving the World—one of them is mastery over life span, dwelling in life for inconceivable kalpas. Is that not the Buddha’s long life? It is the same meaning as eternal abiding.

Turn again to the Avatamsaka, Chapter on Entering the Dharma Realm: Sudhana visits Monk Sea Banner and sees him free from in-breath and out-breath, without separate thinking or awareness, entered into great quiescent concentration, remaining there for exactly six months and six days before emerging. “Free from in-breath and out-breath, without separate thinking or awareness” resembles the Xuanmen state of extinguishing thought in dual void, body and mind forgotten; it is like Huizi’s “Great Vacuity Without Trace”—Great Vacuity is the image of empty stillness, Without Trace means nothing to be found, like an antelope hanging by its horns, vanishing without a trace. This kind of great samadhi Monk Sea Banner attained, and Xuanmen masters attain as well.

If in concentration only “the mind stays but the breath does not,” that is merely approximate quiescence, not true quiescence. Such people, if they block the breath in concentration, cannot hold the concentration. Hence concentration without breathing is true concentration; concentration with breathing is nothing special—stagnant water does not hide dragons; how then could the spiritual marks of the ten bodies be complete at once, or the form emerge from the womb and one personally become the Buddha’s child?

In the Chapter on Entering the Dharma Realm (Ru Fajie Pin), Sudhana’s fiftieth meeting is with the boy Desheng and the girl Youde. Their city is called Miao Yi Hua Men (Wonderful Intention Flower Gate), and the Dharma gate they teach is named “Illusory Abiding Liberation” (Huanzhu Jietuo). Within that teaching lies a deep meaning: heart and breath relying on each other, and a samadhi reached when the pair momentarily align.

Notice that most of Sudhana’s earlier teachers appear alone; here a pair appears together—is that not an image of yin and yang, of heart and breath in harmony? Boy and girl live and travel together: at the level of fruition, samadhi and wisdom (ding and hui) are the pair in accord; at the level of practice, heart and mind on one side and breath on the other are the pair in accord. The word “miao” (subtle/wonderful) is also an image—one yin, one yang. “Miao Yi Hua Men” is like the gate of manifold subtleties or the gate of the mysterious female (xuanpin zhi men) in Laozi: when heart and breath harmonize, there is a fine mutual knowing between the two; when stillness deepens and yang qi rises and the moment arrives, spirit knows it by itself, like a child knowing its mother—beyond words, is that not “wonderful intention”? Heart follows breath as phoenix mates with luan in natural union, a metaphor of husband and wife—yet the boy does not loosen his robe nor the girl undo her sash; they revere each other as spirits and cherish each other as infants—is that not “illusory abiding”? Hence the name “Illusory Abiding Liberation”: only when great samadhi, true samadhi, is reached—no going, no coming, neither exiting nor entering, inner and outer both forgotten, body and mind utterly still, empty stillness with nothing to lean on—is it called non-abiding (wuzhu). From illusory abiding one arrives at non-abiding; inner cultivation at this point can be said to be complete.

The scripture also says: “At that time, after the boy and girl had spoken of their own liberation, by the power of inconceivable roots of goodness they caused Sudhana’s body—the youth Sudhana in the Avatamsaka Sutra who visits spiritual benefactors—to become soft and lustrous.” The explanation is this: “Soft” means that mind and breath rest upon and merge with each other, reaching a state in which the whole body becomes supple and pliant. Bai Ziqing (Bai Yuchan, a Song-dynasty Daoist Neidan [internal alchemy] master) says: “Wait until you have practiced for two or three days, and heaven, earth, sun, and moon will all be soft as cotton.” This is a genuine sign of efficacy. “Lustrous” means that the luminous Qi (vital energy) of Yuanyang (original yang, the innate yang Qi) radiates through the skin and manifests on the exterior. The Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture, a Daoist Neidan classic) says, “The body gives rise to radiance, and the breath is like orchid fragrance”; Zhongli Weng (Zhongli Quan, one of the Eight Immortals) says, “Jade paste (in Neidan, the moistening of Jing [essence] and Qi) flows and moistens, and light appears.” These all mean the same thing. This is the image manifested at the fiftieth visit, and it accords well with the purport of the Daoist Mysterious Gate. Yet commentators on the Avatamsaka Sutra throughout history have mostly explained it in terms of nature and principle, taking the boy and girl as symbols of Ding and Hui (meditative concentration and wisdom). But ordinary beings at the causal stage do not actually possess Ding and Hui; from what point, then, should they begin to practice and advance? Miaoyi Huamen City—a realm visited by Sudhana in the Avatamsaka Sutra—is in fact originally inherent in everyone. Once a scripture master reveals and breaks through the single aperture of the Mysterious Pass (Xuanguan yiqiao, the key pass in Neidan cultivation), one naturally understands. Such profound and secret symbolism is originally not easy for outsiders to explain clearly. Therefore for twenty years I have never revealed it, fearing it would provoke slander. Now that I speak of it to you, elder brother, perhaps you can realize that there is another world, like the sun and moon within a gourd (a Neidan realm), and attain liberation within the illusory—truly with inconceivable divine efficacy.

IV. Penetration

Your letter says: “The immortals value long life; the Buddhists value non-arising.” You should know that “non-arising” only means not clinging to the mark of arising; it does not mean being like withered wood and cold ashes, utterly without vitality. If it were truly like withered wood and cold ashes, it would fall into the heterodox path of empty annihilation (kongwang waidao, the deviation of clinging to emptiness and annihilation), and would not be the true purport of the Buddhist teaching of neither arising nor ceasing. Laozi’s statement that heaven and earth are able to endure long and continue does not mean being like withered wood and cold ashes, utterly without vitality either; if it were truly withered wood and cold ashes, that would be the heterodox path of empty annihilation, not the true purport of the Buddhist teaching of neither arising nor ceasing.

Laozi said: “Heaven and earth endure because they do not live for themselves; therefore they can long endure.” What “not living for oneself” means is not clinging to the idea of “life”—true life is actually that “non-birth” which transcends the distinction between life and death. The Zhengdao Ge of Yongjia states: “Who is without thought? Who is without birth? If one truly realizes non-birth, then there is nothing that is not born.” The meaning is: if one truly penetrates the principle of non-birth, then “death” no longer applies, and one reaches the state where there is no birth yet nothing is unborn. Understood this way, Laozi’s “long endurance” is not falling into eternalism (the view that life is fixed and unchanging); Buddhism’s “non-birth” is not falling into annihilationism (the view that everything is extinguished and utterly void). To manifest “birth” through “non-birth” is the Buddhist path; to awaken to “non-birth” through “birth” is the immortals’ path. How can these be forcibly split in two and ranked as superior or inferior? Once this is clear, one knows that without Buddhism there is no true immortal, and without immortality one cannot become a true Buddha—whoever truly realizes non-birth naturally attains true longevity; true longevity subtly accords with true non-birth. At this point, the two traditions of immortals and Buddhas can set aside sectarian bias.

Nowadays some Buddhist disciples, as soon as they hear “longevity,” denounce it as a heterodox teaching and say it is not the heart of the Dharma. They do not understand: the Buddha taught “non-birth” to those still attached to the vital principle and whose emotional clinging is not yet broken; when emotional clinging is broken, it is precisely then that “longevity” should be taught. The Lotus Sutra’s opening of provisional means to reveal the real, and the Avatamsaka Sutra’s teaching on the exhaustion of emotional measure, both disclose the secret meaning of mastery over life. Finally speaking of nirvana is also entering great nirvana—neither aging nor dying—in perfect resonance with the Huang-Lao learning of the Eastern land. How can one cling to one side alone, assign “non-birth” to the Buddha and “longevity” to Laozi, and revere only non-birth while scorning longevity? Know that “non-birth” and “longevity” are merely different gateways and skillful means for guiding beings—they are not fundamentally opposed.

In the Surangama Sutra and Avatamsaka Sutra, immortal cultivation and Buddhist doctrine are already intertwined; if one asks which treatment is most refined, the Mahaparinirvana Sutra stands out.

The sutra records that Kāśyapa asked the Buddha: “How can one obtain long life and a vajra-indestructible body? And relying on what causes and conditions can one gain great firm power?” That is, in effect, openly asking about the path to longevity.

The Mahaparinirvana Sutra, “Chapter on the Four Characteristics,” says: “It is like a potter who makes vessels and then breaks them again. Liberation is not like that—true liberation is neither born nor destroyed, so liberation is the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata is likewise: neither born nor destroyed, neither aged nor dead, neither broken nor ruined, not a conditioned phenomenon; therefore it is called Tathāgata. One enters great nirvana. What is meant by ‘not aging’? It is neither born nor destroyed; thus liberation is the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata is also neither born nor destroyed, neither aged nor dead, neither broken nor ruined, not a conditioned phenomenon; therefore it is called Tathāgata. After entering great nirvana, how is there no aging and no death? What is ‘aging’? It is change—white hair, wrinkled skin, the body’s decay and life’s end; all of this is called aging. In liberation there is none of this; because these things are absent, it is called liberation. The Tathāgata likewise has no conditioned signs such as white hair or wrinkled face; therefore the Tathāgata has no aging; with no aging, there is no death. Moreover, liberation is called freedom from disease. What is ‘disease’? The four hundred and four diseases and external harm that injures the body, and the like—in liberation there is none of this; therefore it is called liberation. Freedom from disease is true liberation; true liberation is the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata is without disease; the dharmakāya is also without disease. Such freedom from disease is the Tathāgata. ‘Death’ means the body’s decay and life’s end; where there is no death here, that is ambrosia; ambrosia is true liberation, true liberation is the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata accomplishes such merit—how can one say the Tathāgata is impermanent? If one says impermanent, there is no basis for it. This is the vajra body—how could it be impermanent? Therefore the Tathāgata is not said to reach life’s end.”

In this section, the Tathāgata teaches at length: one who attains true liberation is neither born nor destroyed, neither broken nor ruined, neither aged nor dead; there is no grey hair, wrinkled face, or other marks of decay, nor illness—no different from the long life sought by immortals. Immortal and Buddhist paths share one breath; they blend like milk in water.

Sadly, many who study Buddhism today look down on the immortal way, treating the immortal tradition as a heterodox path and one of the seven destinies of rebirth. Yet when they fall ill, they are not spared; when their hair turns white and their faces wrinkle, they are not spared either—no different from ordinary people. What is great nirvāṇa? What is true liberation? As for the wonder of amṛta—the nectar of liberation in the scriptures—there is no need to elaborate. Know that after the World-Honored One entered nirvāṇa, it was rather on the side of the Mysterious Gate—Daoist and immortal learning—that the message of “great nirvāṇa, neither old nor dead” could still be embodied. That is why Wang WenZhi, though he had widely studied the Buddhist vehicle, turned to the Dao in his eighties and followed immortals in their wanderings.

Appendix III: An Entry from Elder Li Tingguang’s Diary

Teacher Song Yao said: Wang Dongting taught the Way in Shanghai for decades but did not attain the Dao himself and grew old. When Master Hanxu arrived, he taught him the method of rebirth through seizing a body (tou tai duo she). Before he died, Master Dongting told him (Xu Songyao) to find him (Wang Dongting) at a certain time and place. Because of the war, he (Xu Songyao) could not go. I believe: as long as one does not forget one’s “original authenticity,” one can be reborn through seizing a body.

A Diary Entry Related to the Tianle Collection (Modern Paraphrase)

Note: What follows is not text from an ancient scripture but the editor’s commentary and reflections on a diary entry. The original biography contains repeated and garbled dates; the account below is arranged for clarity.

This diary was provided by Mr. Lin Feng of Shanghai. Mr. Li Tingguang had studied under Xu Songyao (style name Haiyinzi). In the 1950s and 1960s, Li Tingguang and six others—Jiang Weiqiao (styled Yin), Hu Meicheng, Lu Zidong, Chu Xiangjiang, Gu Boshu, and Lu Huaidao—formed the “Seven Gentlemen Health Cultivation Tea Salon,” where they discussed Daoist learning together.

The diary records that Li Hanxu, the founding patriarch of the Western School of inner alchemy (Xipai), came to Shanghai in person and transmitted the practice of touduo duoshe (reincarnation and taking a new bodily “shelter”) to Wang Dongting, Hermit of Embodying Truth (Tizhen Shanren). The Qing-era Brief Biography of Perfect Man Li Hanxu (Li Hanxu Zhenren Xiaozhuan) states that Li Hanxu ascended and left the world in the bingchen year of the Xianfeng reign (1856). Yet the diary also says that no later than the 1950s and 1960s he appeared again among humans and passed the teaching to Wang Dongting—more than sixty or seventy years after the recorded ascension. Mr. Lin Feng annotated: “When I first read this entry, I was truly shaken.” The editor had much the same reaction.

From this one can also glimpse how strange the effects recorded in traditional inner alchemy can be, and that claims about autonomous mastery over life and “re-creation” of the body are not necessarily empty talk. The Daoist scholar Chen Yingning (1880–1969) once said that whether touduo (rebirth into a new womb) can be relied upon cannot be proved by ordinary evidence; one can only trust that it differs from what common people experience. Whether this diary entry is factual, the editor cannot determine; it is appended here for documentary reference, to await verification by future scientific investigators.

Further, teachings of the touduo duoshe type are often divided into four: touduo (entering a womb), duoshe (seizing a shelter/body), jieshi (borrowing a corpse), and zhuanshi (transmigration)—together called the meaning of the “four fruitions.”

—Signed, Gan Keqi

This passage is taken from an appendix excerpt of Mr. Hu Meicheng’s postscript to Exegesis of Southern School Elixir Formulas. In substance it runs as follows.

In the early twentieth century I went three more times to the Suzhou region and personally called on Mr. Xu Songyao of Suzhou, Shanghai, and Hangzhou—a noted specialist in Daoist studies who styled himself Xuanjing Jushi (Recluse of Mysterious Stillness). Mr. Xu was a graduate of Tsinghua University and devoted his life to Daoist studies. Though already very advanced in years, he had more than a thousand disciples and left several volumes of Tianle Ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy) in circulation; yet he avoided discussing the learning of the “Yin-Yang school.”

In Daoist internal alchemy (Neidan), whether on the path of pure solitary cultivation or dual cultivation, the phase of “living zi hour, yang arising, and gathering the medicine” is crucial—yet Daoist books often stop short of spelling it out. The same reticence applies to Tianle Ji: though many volumes circulate, it likewise keeps silent on the Yin-Yang school’s teachings.

Notes (to help read the original):

• Xuanjing Jushi: A religious or lay practitioner’s style name.
• Pure cultivation / dual cultivation: In Neidan, commonly the distinction between solitary practice and male–female joint practice, among other routes.
• Living zi, yang arising, gathering the medicine: Neidan terms for the critical stage when the “medicine” is said to arise and may be taken up in practice.
• Yin-Yang school: Here usually lineages or doctrines tied to yin–yang dual cultivation—hence the author’s remark that Mr. Xu “avoided discussing” it.

This passage addresses one of the most critical—and most often poorly explained—steps in Neidan (internal alchemy): “living zi hour yang arising, raising fire and gathering the medicine.” Whether one follows qingxiu (solitary cultivation) or shuangxiu (paired male–female practice), this stage cannot be skipped; many Daoist texts only hint at it, treating it as a secret not lightly transmitted.

Huozi shi (the living zi hour) is generally divided into three kinds: true zi hour, proper zi hour, and false zi hour. What is meant by living zi yang arising is that inner yang qi truly stirs, so one can raise fire (ignite inner fire) and gather the medicine (collect and fix essence and qi). The medicine also has degrees of maturity—“old” and “young”—and texts often speak of one yang, two yang, three yang, and so on at different levels; in Neidan, true essence and true qi are called the true seed. Hence Zhang Ziyang (Zhang Boduan) writes in the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality): “If there is no true seed in the cauldron, do not bother heating an empty pot”—without the true seed, refinement is empty motion.

Without authentic transmission on living zi yang arising and gathering medicine, many people cannot even tell what the true signs look like. For example, the Daoist scholar Xu Songyao writes in the Tianle ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy): when quiet practice reaches the point where pure yang true qi first stirs, the whole body feels numb tingling and twitching; each twitch completes one small heavenly circuit (xiaozhou tian), and in this way one gradually gathers and gradually accumulates. The author here disagrees: sensations like numbness, lightness or heaviness are common eight touches (eight kinds of bodily feeling) in seated meditation; to take the eight touches for living zi yang arising and gathering medicine is to invert root and branch.

If in quiet practice one mistakes the eight touches for yang arising, and treats xing yang (yang qi outward flare—desire, emission, and the like) as something good, allowing yuan qi (original qi) to leak away, one often loses everything built up before—a great pity.

In his postscript to Annotations on the Southern School Alchemical Formulas, Mr. Hu Meicheng’s essay was supplied by Mr. Lin Feng of Shanghai. Mr. Hu visited Suzhou three times in person to call on Xu Songyao and inquire into the Yin-Yang school (a branch of Neidan [internal alchemy] that emphasizes dual cultivation between men and women, among other teachings). It is said that Xu Songyao “declined to discuss it.” “Declining to discuss it” does not mean he was ignorant of the Yin-Yang school; rather, there were surely painful reasons that could not be stated plainly, and he did not wish to say more. Consider Haiyin Daoren’s Reply to Tang Muxuan’s Ten Questions: when someone asked whether the Seventeen Daoist Books were orthodox or heterodox, he answered: “If one has truly wandered through the Longzang [the great Buddhist canon repository], what meets the eye is naturally distinguished at once.” (Longzang is the great scripture treasury; the meaning is that if one has genuinely browsed widely in the canon collections, one can tell at a glance.) The Seventeen Daoist Books includes works such as Xuanwei Xinyin and Sanfeng Danjue—celebrated texts of the Yin-Yang alchemical line. Since he said “If one has truly wandered through the Longzang, what meets the eye is naturally distinguished at once,” if one did not expose it on the spot yet allowed it to circulate casually, the harm would run deeper—hence silence. It is also widely said in the world that the Western school (the Neidan Western school) belongs to the Yin-Yang dual-cultivation line. As far as I know, the Western school can broadly be divided into two major transmissions: one strongly advocates pure cultivation (solitary practice, not relying on male–female partnership), and one strongly advocates dual cultivation. Yet among pure-cultivation adherents there are also many who deeply understand Yin-Yang learning, and the dual-cultivation line must likewise grasp the essentials of pure cultivation; because times, places, and outer conditions differ, each cultivates and verifies in their own way, yet all converge in the end. When outer conditions are not in place, one can only keep it hidden in the heart and hold one’s tongue, lest unnecessary disturbance be invited. The Qingjing Jing (Scripture of Purity and Stillness) says: “When a person can constantly remain pure and still, heaven and earth all return to them.” If the essence of heaven and earth can be gathered in, can the human yuan (the root of vital essence inherent in the body) not be gathered in as well? The Gushu Yinlou Cangshu · Niwang Lizu Nüzong Shuangxiu Baofa (Treasure Raft of Dual Cultivation for the Female Line of Patriarch Li of the Mud Pill), compiled by Min Yide in the Qing dynasty, states: “Solitary cultivation is not the ultimate Way; like kinds need one another; there is a body outside the body…”

In the Qing dynasty, Min Yide wrote in Gushu Yinlou Cangshu · Niwang Lizu Nüzong Shuangxiu Baofa (Hidden Tower Library · Mud-pill Ancestor Li’s Treasure Raft of Dual Cultivation for the Female Line): “Cultivating alone is not the highest path; those of the same kind must complement one another. Only when one can reach ‘a body beyond the body’ and forget the physical form can one accomplish the various tasks.” He also said: “This single unity of the person fills the great thousand worlds; the heaven yuan, earth yuan, and human yuan all depend on the one mind to gather and govern them. The essential knack is nothing beyond: the mind must be still and empty, the body must flow without blockage. Movement and stillness accord with the true constant; when the sense of self is exhausted, primordial Qi (Yuanqi) naturally merges as one.” These words can open the eye of wisdom in people.

The so-called Three Yuan are heaven yuan, earth yuan, and human yuan. “The human yuan fills the great thousand” does not refer only to the partner’s cauldron-furnace setup in the other school; the deployment of the Three Yuan is entirely led and gathered by the one mind. If you trace the oral formula of the practice, it is nothing more than “mind still and empty, body without obstruction”—that is, forgetting both body and mind, great samadhi and great emptiness, the same intent as “when people can constantly be pure and still, heaven and earth all return to them.” If one can “forget form” and reach the state of “a body outside the body,” then one can “undertake the various tasks”: solitary cultivation is not mere loneliness, and dual cultivation is not merely two people facing each other—it is simply “those of the same kind needing one another.” What the Cantong Qi (Token of the Unity of the Three) calls “the lodestone draws iron; obstacles do not block the hidden connection” means exactly this.

Therefore, within pure solitary practice there is by no means an absence of the aim of dual cultivation; within dual cultivation there is likewise its own work of purity and stillness. True practitioners can fully weave this pure formula into dual cultivation and cultivate together, “wandering together in the wilderness of Wuji (the Limitless),” to the certain benefit of both parties—there are no lack of cases of husband and wife attaining proof together. Although the dual-cultivation line has other arts such as “forging the sword” and “adjusting the cauldron,” with formulas that are indeed subtle, they are perhaps not as secure and free of abuse as this approach; everyone can verify it in person, and there is no need to erect various precepts to constrain people. What is meant by “the meaning is most hidden yet the trace is most plain” is precisely this.

Mr. Hu Meicheng also criticized another mistake: treating “tingling numbness and twitching” as proof that yang qi is arising and the elixir is taking effect. For the deeper meaning of “tingling numbness and twitching,” one may read the Tianle Ji in detail. A perceptive student of the Way will understand what the book is pointing at; there is no need to argue the point separately here. Haiyin’s fellow disciple Wei Yao says in The True Transmission of the Great Dao: “When the ancients wrote books and set forth teachings, it was always to address the abuses of their own time.” The judgments of Haiyin and Meicheng likewise aim to correct contemporary errors. In the Wu-Liu immortal lineage (the neidan tradition associated with Wu Chongxu and Liu Huayang), it was once stressed that a response in the external kidneys (the genitals) was a sign of yang qi stirring. People who do not understand natural subtle function cling to images and are trapped in form; they have not yet reached the stage of “attaining utmost emptiness” (zhixu) in the mind, yet already fantasize about yang qi arising—even sliding into attachment to sensual appearance—so how can they speak of “when people can constantly be pure and still”? Therefore Haiyin wrote to correct the times: he marked only “soft numbness and tingling” as the sign of yang birth, and altogether avoided leading beginners to fixate on appearances. If, in practice devoted to “attain utmost emptiness, hold fast to stillness” (zhixu ji, shou jing du), similar phenomena appear all the way from “soft numbness and tingling” to “soft ease and joy,” then the signs of yang birth and elixir production will form naturally—only then is the source-water of the medicine clear. What Mr. Meicheng criticized was precisely the error of mistaking the “eight touches” (the eight common bodily sensations in entering stillness) for yang birth, and the deeper fault of not recognizing the true signs of yang birth at all. The eight touches are only surface phenomena at the beginning of entering stillness—the effect of blood and qi first opening and the mind first settling—not yet anywhere near “yang birth and elixir production.” Given Elder Meicheng’s erudition, he naturally understood Haiyin’s earnest intent. Thus Mr. Hu Meicheng’s criticism is indeed well founded, and what Zi Haiyin indicated also carries profound meaning. (—Sheng Keqi, note)

Appendix Five of the Tianle Ji: Vernacular Commentary on “Benefits of Learning the Dao” from Tian Chengyang Daozhang’s compilation Secrets of Immortal Learning

Haiyinzi was a leading figure in the West School (Xipai, the internal alchemy West School lineage). He focused on extra-body practice (shenwai gongfu), which differs markedly from the Wu-Liu School’s approach of holding the lower dantian. How is that extra-body practice actually done? Zhang Yishang gives a fairly clear account in the commentary to his Casual Talk on the Immortal Way (Xian Dao Man Tan), in substance as follows:

The West School also preserves a separate transmission of a supreme Tianyuan (Heavenly Origin) elixir method: at a spot about an inch outside the nose, at the junction of the “two bodies” in the Li method (the color/desire aspect of practice), one settles the spirit and regulates the breath. While breath is present, one rests in the void outside the nose; when breath falls away, one enters absorption in that same void outside the nose. Practice opens with this single method and closes the circuit with it as well—the beginning and the end never leave this one anchor in the void outside the nose.

For readers of the original: “Extra-body practice” means not fixing attention on the lower dantian inside the abdomen, but instead setting up the “furnace” and tuning breath at a locus such as the void outside the nose. “Tianyuan elixir method” names methods that take Tianyuan—the upper, the void, or pre-heaven primordial Qi, in common usage—as their root. The closing line in the source that begins “Mr. Zhang Tao proposed…” looks like a slip or a broken sentence and repeats material from Zhang Yishang’s commentary; this vernacular rendering follows only the part of the main text that reads complete.

This passage is the editor’s note and appendix explanation for Tianle Ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy), not the main body of the alchemical instructions. The gist is as follows.

Editor’s note

(Note: This explanation was supplied by Mr. Zhang Tao of Tianmen, Hubei.)

Mr. Zhang Yishang was from Zhong County, Sichuan. He had deep study in both Buddhist and Daoist learning. From his postscript to Xiandao Mantan (Casual Talk on Immortal Way) one can see he was also well versed in the Western School (Xipai) of neidan (internal alchemy)—in a few sentences he hits the vital point, like adding the pupil to a painted dragon. He even called this method “supreme celestial-origin elixir method” and clearly held it in high regard.

Yet listing it separately as a “Xipai side transmission” is probably not quite right. Xipai alchemy is mostly classed under the yin-yang line within “human-origin elixir methods,” so from that angle the elder treated Xipai quiet cultivation (solo practice without sexual dual cultivation) as “Xipai side transmission.”

Whether Xipai alchemy is fundamentally the yin-yang school or the quiet-cultivation school, and which line counts as orthodox transmission—these questions I touched on briefly in my note to Mr. Hu Meicheng’s “Postscript to Explanations of Southern School Elixir Instructions”; I will not repeat that here.

—Recognized by Sheng Keqi

Appendix 6: On the carving and printing of Tianle Ji

Books on xuanxue ( arcane learning) and the elixir path are extremely numerous; I have read quite a few myself. Most speak in hidden language and symbolic imagery—one can read through them yet still not understand, easily guessing like the blind men and the elephant, and in the end only sigh at the vastness of what one cannot grasp.

In the autumn of last year, the guichou year, I sought instruction from Elder Qian Gu. He opened up subtle talk on mysterious practice and let me grasp the essential subtlety of “mind and breath mutually relying” (xinxixiangyi), and lent me Tianle Ji to read. A rough pass through a few chapters opened my eyes and cleared my mind; only then did I know that the elixir instructions transmitted in one line from the sages truly still had successors carrying the thread.

This translation preserves the editorial tone: it discusses Zhang Yishang’s expertise, the classification of Xipai as human-origin yin-yang vs quiet “side transmission,” and the compiler’s gratitude to Qian Gu for Tianle Ji and xinxixiangyi.

Tianle Ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy) was composed by Xuanjingzi (also known as Haiyin) and runs to an enormous length. Tradition holds that the complete work comprised more than a hundred fascicles bound in eight large volumes; what survives today is a single volume—roughly a tenth of the whole. Even so, reading through this one volume shows that the essential methods of Neidan (internal alchemy) handed down by sages of every age are gathered here. Points that earlier writers on the elixir arts left obscure are opened one by one; everywhere the root is seen directly, and every phrase aims to lead the reader toward sagehood. The deep meanings of texts such as the Cantong qi, Wuzhen Pian, Yinfu Jing, and Daode Jing are laid out with little held back; various elixir formulas and accounts of practice are described in full. It may fairly be called a crowning synthesis of Daoist learning, a compass among elixir scriptures, and a key to the profound teaching.

Tongzhi Xue Yangzi was both a fellow disciple under the same master as the author and the teacher who guided him through the door. The method of mutual reliance between mind and breath—had he not pointed out the starting place face to face, how could one have understood it so deeply or trusted it so firmly? As companions on the path of immortality cultivation, of one voice and one aspiration, whatever they gained they never failed to examine together and clarify for each other, advancing in step.

I deeply lament that fine books are hard to come by, yet once in hand they are easily lost; lesser students cling to false methods and thereby lose the true Way. The Tianle Collection is like celestial music sounding in the void—enough to refine one’s temperament and nourish one’s original nature. Among gentlemen who love the Way, how many can truly read it through? Remembering my deep friendship with Yunzhongzi, Qiqiaoxing, and other immortals, and that love for the Way is not mine alone, I resolved to have several copies carved and printed and to give them to fellow travelers on the path, to share with those of like mind and together ascend the cloud journey. Alas, worldly duties pressed in and everything blocked the way: I had promised to revive The Immortal Way Monthly, and my heart was also bound to the wish to print The Tianle Collection—with no second self, I could only sigh in helplessness. I asked Xueyang; through Tiyang’s introduction they kept their word, took on the trouble without weariness, agreed to reorganize everything from the start, and settled on printing twenty copies. Such devotion to the Way and such sincerity in helping the Way fill me with admiration and boundless gratitude. Now I add a table of contents at the front of the book for easy browsing, and briefly record how this came about, as above.

Poem by Tianlezi, first

That single move in the void—how many recognize it?

In The Scripture of Mysterious Stillness, probing the tiger’s den is precisely where danger seeks the real.

Within the truth of Heaven and Earth, vast and empty;

at the utmost of Yin-Yang, nothing more than motes of dust.

Heart and breath rely on each other, and the mysterious aperture is born;

amid the turbid cosmos one gathers the jade fungus.

The essential subtlety is fully displayed in The Tianle Collection,

bare and plain, revealing the true face of suchness.

Second

Like immortal music spread across the long sky,

as if one stood amid a riot of heavenly flowers.

Each piece pierces to the marrow of mysterious principle;

each chapter can verify the Buddha’s voice and dharmakāya.

The homeland was always in “nowhere-at-all” (the realm of emptiness);

the face was always that of the father and elder of old.

In the prefatory passage, a person’s true “homeland” lies originally in non-being—in the wuhe you realm (Zhuangzi’s “Land of Not-Anything,” a metaphor for where one’s original nature and the Dao-body abide). One’s “original face” was always that of Wangxiang Gong (a Neidan image for true nature: vague and formless, beyond naming). Who else could laugh freely in the spring breeze—while discerning the finest detail like dust, yet embracing the coarse breadth of the three realms—if not you?

Section Three

Outside the body, another body is born, called “Grandson Grandfather” (Sun Waigong—a Neidan figure for a second “body” born from essence and qi). It pierces heaven and earth like a great pillar; even the ears can “receive” it (a image of spirit and qi moving up and down). Have you personally verified the “Sea Seal” (the mind-as-sea, all appearances like seals upon it)? I dare pursue the craft to its limit. Thus the Golden Youth (Neidan image of yang spirit, childlike body) is entrusted to carve the text anew, and the Jade Maiden (Neidan image of yin essence and harmonizing spirit) sees the work through. The fishing line never breaks—just right for angling (a metaphor for firing times and add-and-subtract in practice); when the golden toad is hooked (image of lunar essence or signs of forming the elixir), one goes on to visit the Jade Palace (the upper dantian, the celestial court).

Section Four

Qian Valley lent out the book Tianle; Tianzhen had it retitled as Tiyang. Ten parts of effort achieved only eight—not yet complete; yet “no corner, return to three” (echoing Yijing themes: from one point, the whole pattern opens) has already exhausted the paths that needed saying. From then on one reads and recites under stars and moon, ever honoring a single breath (one inhalation-exhalation, or the breath of a single thought) as what the heart pursues. This is the Quanzhen path’s medicine for prolonging years and sustaining life—the full formula of the Complete Perfection lineage’s practice for extending life—and I only wish that people in the world would taste this sweetness with me.

Section Five

The book remains, but the person is gone; regret runs deep. How can one again hear in person the tide-like teaching (a metaphor for the master’s discourse or the sound of the Dao)? After Dongting, a prior master continued the lineage; from Xiyue downward, I received the transmission. I cannot forget Qian Guzi of old (likely a master styled Qian Valley or Qian Guzi); to this day I often recall Xiao Tianzhen (likely Tianzhenzi or the Tianzhen line). The world shifts constantly and human hearts are often treacherous; one must hold the mind of standing at the edge of deep water and treading on thin ice, cautious at every step.

Colophon: Tianle Ji, by Haoyin Shanren Xu Songyao.