《天乐集》Vol. 2

The Precept of Receiving Good Dharmas

What is meant by “good dharmas” is to gather and hold in order the conduct of body, speech, and mind: how one treats others and guides people, down to every movement and every expression—nothing is left outside the path of goodness, with utmost goodness as the destination. When kindness and harmony abound, the unwholesome karma of living beings diminishes without their noticing, and they return to purity and peace—this is the nurturing power of profound virtue (xuan de). Hence it is called the precept of receiving good dharmas.

The Precept of Receiving Discipline and Deportment

Laozi said: Those of old who were skilled in the Way were subtle, penetrating, and too deep to fathom. Because they could not be measured, one could only sketch their outward bearing: cautious as when crossing a stream in winter, watchful as when fearing neighbors on all sides, dignified as a guest, yielding as ice about to melt, plain as uncarved wood, open as a valley, and blended like muddy water that has not yet cleared. These seven similes are Laozi’s portrait of the bearing of one who “embraces the Way.” Zhuangzi praises Daoist deportment and goes further still. For example: “In stillness like a corpse; in movement like a dragon appearing; in deep silence like an abyss; in utterance like thunder when the spirit moves, Heaven follows.” He also says of the true persons of old: they did not insist on their strength, did not dwell on their merit, did not scheme—thus they did not regret the past and found the present fitting in itself. They did not tremble on heights, were not soaked in water, were not burned in fire—they could borrow the Way and unite with it. When the true person slept, there were no dreams; awake, no anxiety; in eating, no craving for sweetness; in breathing, deep—from the heel for the true person, from the throat for ordinary people. The true person did not delight in life nor hate death; going out without elation, entering without refusal, coming and going at ease. Mind intent and single, countenance quiet, brow broad and mild—chill-clear as autumn, warm and gentle as spring; joy and anger in tune with the four seasons, fitting with things until none knows the limit.

He also says of the true persons of old: they seemed insufficient yet did not take on what was not theirs; like a tilted vessel, not rigid; empty, not showy; agreeable as if pleased, yet when compelled, towering; fullness advancing in spirit and face, stopping to keep to virtue; stern as if treading the world, lofty as if uncontrollable, continuous as if fond of closing, drawing out slowly and forgetting words. He also says such a person is genuinely human: human in form yet heaven-empty within, following things while preserving truth, clear and harmonious yet accommodating things; when things lost their way, he corrected his bearing to awaken them, so people’s wayward intentions dissolved. This is the deportment of the profound teaching—like the divine dragon that cannot be named—hence Confucius’s sigh that Laozi was “like a dragon.”

Second are the “precepts for embracing all beings” (she zhongsheng jie), which take great compassion and impartiality as their root. Laozi said: I treat the good person well, and I treat the person who is not good equally well—this is “virtuous kindness” (de shan); I trust the trustworthy person, and I also respond to the untrustworthy with trust—this is “virtuous faith” (de xin). When the sage governs the world, he is cautious and wary, yet brings people’s hearts back to simplicity; the common folk entrust their eyes and ears to the sage, and the sage regards them as he would children. He also said: Therefore the sage is always good at saving people, and so abandons no one; always good at saving things, and so abandons nothing. Again: The sage has none he does not treat well—what is there that should be cast aside? This shows clearly how the teaching of the Mysterious Gate (Xuanmen) gathers in all living beings, teaches without discriminating among types, and does not forsake even the “hard to save” (pudgala / icchantika).

Next are the “prohibitive precepts” (zhe jie). “Zhe” means to stop or block, as when Confucius stressed guarding against lust and quarreling—using norms to bar improper conduct. Prohibitive precepts chiefly use precepts to halt evil deeds; together with the precepts for embracing all beings, one gentle and one firm, they jointly protect cultivation and the transformation of the world.

Restraining Precepts (Zhe Jie)

Next, restraining precepts (zhe jie). “Zhe” means to check, restrain, or block. Confucianism has precepts against lust, quarreling, and grasping gain; Buddhism has the five precepts (against killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, intoxication), and so on. Laozi said: “Knowing contentment, one is not disgraced; knowing when to stop, one is not endangered. There is no guilt heavier than coveting; no misfortune greater than not knowing what is enough; no fault worse than insisting on having more.” He also said: “When one does not let people see what might stir desire, the heart is not disturbed.” He also said: “The five colors blind the eye; the five tones deafen the ear; the five flavors dull the palate; racing and hunting madden the heart; goods hard to obtain make conduct go wrong. Therefore the sage values the belly (nourishing the inner) and not the eye (chasing the outer)—thus he discards the latter and takes the former.” He also said: “Block the openings outward, shut the gates, and one can avoid toil and trouble for life; open the openings and indulge affairs, and one cannot be saved for life.” He also said: “See plainness, embrace simplicity; reduce thought and cut desires.” He also said: “The sage removes excess, removes extravagance, removes overreach.” This is restraining precept in the Laozi line.

Zhuangzi said: “Thoroughly sweep away the surging of ambition, the disorder of the heart, the drag on De (virtue/power), and the blockage of the Dao (the Way). Wealth, rank, prominence, and fame—these six are surging ambition; bearing, movement, expression, breath and bearing, and intent—these six are heart’s disorder; aversion, greed, joy, anger, sorrow, and delight—these six are what wear down De; leaving and staying, taking and giving, knowing and ability—these six are what block the Dao. When these ‘four sixes’ do not churn in the breast, one is upright; upright then still, still then clear, clear then empty, empty then wuwei (non-action) and nothing left undone.” This is restraining precept in the Zhuangzi line.

Summary

Understand that precepts shared with the Dao and precepts shared with concentration (ding) are the root precepts. Then, in line with what Laozi and Zhuangzi teach—precepts that gather good dharmas, precepts that gather discipline and deportment, and precepts that gather and benefit beings—together with restraining precepts, principle and practice are both complete and self and others both benefit. This is precept study in the Xuanzong (Daoist) teaching.

Thirteen: Xuanzong Teachings on Surpassing Birth

(The heading is given; if the main text continues in the next section, paste it for translation.)

A General Statement on the Study of Precepts

Daoist teaching uses the character for “sheng” (life/generation) to unify precept discipline and prohibitive precepts (what to uphold and what to avoid), so that both practice and principle are fully covered and self-benefit and benefit to others are both served. This is the Daoist study of precepts.

XIII. The Profound Gate’s Study of Transcendent Life (Chaosheng)

The Daoist gate guides sentient beings with the word “life”: from “having life” toward “long life,” and from long life subtly merging with “non-birth.” Non-birth means that intrinsic nature was never born in the first place; where there is no birth, there is no extinction—transcending both birth and extinction is the ultimate station of long life.

Beginners first refine the self and lay the foundation, empty the heart and fill the belly, and nourish the original yuan (primordial vitality)—still at the station of “life.” When thought and breath both dissolve and one sits calmly in samadhi, Zhang Sanfeng (Three Peaks True Man) said: “At this time breath stops like a small death; fused into one piece is the complete truth (Quanzhen).” That is the shift from the station of “life” to the station of “non-birth.” Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) said: “Having been born, learn to kill the born; not yet dead, learn to die—then there is long life.” He is speaking of exactly this station. After seven days the great cosmic orbit (da zhou tian) is complete; chaos is reopened and the womb is re-established—called “great death, great revival.” Finally one returns to emptiness in the Dao; merit and station both transcend, the void is shattered—this is the utmost of creating the Dao.

Therefore the study of transcendent life has four turns in sequence; their meaning is set out below.

(A) Life (Sheng)

Explanation: Guard the one and harmonize at the center; nature (xing) and life (ming) are fully restored.

Verse: Purple swallows play eyes in the sun; yellow orioles cry in the evening breeze. The old garden’s spring mood is deep and still; in pairs they sport among the flowers.

(B) Non-birth (Bu Sheng)

Explanation: Thought and breath both dissolve; return to the limitless (wuji).

Verse: The six functions without achievement, faith not yet connected—hand it all at once to the spring wind. One thread of incense smoke in idle clear daylight; no birds come, yet the flowers redden on their own.

(Bing) Not Giving Birth to Birth

Explanation: Open chaos again and re-establish the baotai state—holding body and spirit as in the womb, nurturing a new life in cultivation.

Verse: To find a way out within the realm of death is itself the extraordinary Way (feichang zhi dao); within it lies a separate, far-reaching secret use. At midnight a skull (symbol of utter stillness and yin at its extreme) can still intone a tune; on an ice river flames blaze up, yet one feels cool and clear—describing the reversal when yin reaches its limit and yang arises, life won from death.

(Ding) Not Giving Birth to Not-Giving-Birth

Explanation: Even emptiness is shattered; all is one without trace, and the opposition between “birth” and “no-birth” is gone.

Verse (1): Same as (Bing)—life from death, a secret use of another depth, the skull’s night song, flames on the ice river with cool clarity.

Verse (2): Both phenomena and principle are forgotten; who would still measure with ordinary scales? Perfectly round without seam, filling every place, yet not lodged in any “hiding place.”

Quotation from Zhuangzi

Zhuangzi says: When form is whole and jing (essence) is restored, one is one with Heaven; gathered, they become a body; scattered, they become a beginning. When neither form nor jing is injured, this is called being able to shift (transform). Jing refined upon jing, one turns back and joins the Way of Heaven. This is the Daoist learning that transcends life and death and nourishes life; only from the four turning stages above can one grasp how the Daoist path benefits beings and completes life.

Fourteen. Externalizing the Body and Transforming Form

Laozi says: “Put the self last, and the self goes first; set the self outside, and the self is preserved.” (Hou qi shen er shen xian, wai qi shen er shen cun.)

Cantong qi says: “Transform form and become an immortal; sink into silence without sound.” (Hua xing wei xian, lun ji wu sheng.)

Hanshanzi says: “To yi (benefit) is to benefit one’s jing—that may be called true benefit. To yi (change) is to change one’s form—that is called real change. One who can both benefit and change may hope for a place on the register of upper immortals; one who can neither benefit nor change will in the end not escape the calamity of death.”

The Queen Mother of the West says: “Those who practice benefit-and-change should constantly reflect on Lingbao. Ling means shen (spirit); bao means jing (essence).”

Note: The way of externalizing the body and transforming form is precisely the direct gate that the profound teaching of the Daoist inner path (xuanzong) cultivates and attests.

“Outer body” means understanding that one must anchor the practice in the void outside the body. Like moving a great jar—you must stand outside the jar for your hands to apply force smoothly and turn it easily. The principle of transforming form and substance is the same: first let go of this physical body, place mind-intent in the void outside, and only then gather spirit and regulate breath can you speak of “creating something from nothing” and complete the seven returns and nine reversions sequence of firing. Thus in the mysteries of elixir methods, one begins from the void outside the body and concludes there in closing practice; from start to finish, every step stays in the void, intent always outward—while the signs of effect appear on the physical body: hair, teeth, blood, pupils readily change; one may even exchange the coarse physical body for a subtle Dharma body; like roots spreading through the world, each turn and shift in the secret places; when embryo emerges and spirit transforms, one can soar, ascend, and move with free spiritual power. Therefore, one who can “make the body outer” can “change its form.”

Cantong qi also says: the subtle Dharma body, roots born through the world, each secret turn and secret shift; when embryo emerges and spirit transforms, then soaring ascent and free spiritual power—thus one who can outer the body can change its form.

Cantong qi again: “Golden sand enters the five viscera; mist scatters like wind and rain; steaming reaches the four limbs; complexion becomes lustrous; white hair all turns black; fallen teeth regrow in their old places; an old man becomes a strong youth again; an aged woman becomes a radiant maiden; changing form escapes worldly calamity—they are called true persons.” It also says: “Hold essence and nourish spirit; penetrate virtue through the three origins; essence overflows the skin and pores; sinews and bones grow firm; myriad evils are warded off; upright qi always remains; accumulated over long time, form transforms into immortal.” This is the orthodox track of the profound teaching’s cultivation and the efficacy shown when Heaven and human activate together.

In the “Great Master” chapter of the Zhuangzi it says: “Only after one has gone beyond birth and death can one achieve zhao che (morning clarity); after morning clarity, one can jian du (see the Alone); after seeing the Alone, one can be without past and present; after being without past and present, one can enter into neither death nor birth. What kills life does not die; what gives birth to life is not born.” This is a decisive step upward in the profound Daoist path of internal alchemy and dual cultivation of nature and life.

Zhao che (morning clarity): When the five skandhas (form, feeling, perception, formations, and consciousness—the five aggregates that, in Buddhist teaching, make up the body and mind of ordinary beings) are fully exhausted, the heaven of innate nature opens and clears, like the first light of dawn when all yin shadows vanish and everything stands revealed. What the ancient masters meant by “the numinous light alone shines, utterly free of the dust of the senses” is exactly this.

Jian du (seeing the Alone): To penetrate and see that dharma-nature is without birth and death. All phenomena have opposites; only this ocean of nature is one-and-all, with no further duality—hence it is called “Alone.” Zhuangzi’s “seeing the Alone,” Liezi’s “doubting the Alone,” the Confucian “being watchful in solitude,” and Chan master Baizhang’s “standing alone in complete stillness” all point to the same aim: seeing one’s true nature. What the three teachings attest to all converges here.

Only when the skandha of consciousness is exhausted can one reach morning clarity and see the Alone; only by penetrating dharma-nature can one enter neither death nor birth. When the profound teaching fully verifies the truly constant and subtly attunes to the unborn, it is in essence no different from the Buddhist “Great Nirvana.”

What Laozi calls “revealing plainness” (jian su), “knowing constancy” (zhi chang), and “embodying constancy” (xi chang) all point to the essential meaning of realizing one’s own nature—no different from Zhuangzi’s “at dawn, thorough awakening; alone one sees the true” (zhao che jian du). Commentators through the ages have never fully developed this point, so Laozi’s teaching could not be harmonized with Buddhism and instead stirred disputes over right and wrong, higher and lower—a real pity. Zhang Boduan (Ziyang Zhenren) says in the Wuzhen pian: “The elixir is the body’s supreme treasure; refined, it yields limitless transformation. Go further and investigate the true school on the level of nature, and decisively grasp the wondrous use of non-birth. Without waiting for later lives, before your eyes you obtain the Buddha’s divine powers. Since the dragon girl achieved this merit, who afterward could follow in her steps?” This is what is meant by “the supreme, most true wondrous Dao” and “the highest one-vehicle wondrous purport”—also the ultimate destination of the Xuanzong (Daoist inner alchemy) path to completion.

From the two chapters discussed above, the Xuanzong methods of transforming the outer body and the subtlety of dawn awakening and solitary seeing complete both life (ming) and nature (xing), unite nurturing life with entry into non-birth, connect above and below, embrace both sudden and gradual approaches, and reach all three root capacities (upper, middle, and lower)—a national treasure of China, rare and marvelous. All who aspire to the study of nature-and-life and methods of cultivation should explore this and pursue it in depth.

Sixteen. The Great Dao of Empty Mystery (Xuxuan Dadao)

Xuanzong cultivation begins from “empty void” (xukong). Refining essence (jing), refining qi, and refining spirit (shen)—each step is practiced in the void outside the body, until form and spirit are both wondrous and united with the true Dao; void remains the arena throughout, hence the name “Great Dao of Empty Mystery.” Those who aspire to nature-and-life study and cultivation should likewise explore this and pursue it in depth.

A Plain-Language Reading of Tianle Ji

Guang Cheng Zi said: “I will leave you and enter the gate of the boundless, to wander in the wilderness of the limitless.” Laozi also said: “The Dao is empty and unassuming; yet in use it seems never to overflow.” He also said: “Look for it and you cannot see it—this is called yi (dim); listen for it and you cannot hear it—this is called xi (rare); grasp for it and you cannot get hold of it—this is called wei (subtle). These three—yi, xi, and wei—cannot be pursued to the end, so they blend into one. Above it is not bright; below it is not dark. Unbroken and continuous, it cannot be named, and returns again to no-thing. This is called the shape without shape, the image without image—namely, huanghu (indistinct vagueness). Meet it face on and you see no head; follow it from behind and you see no tail. Hold fast to the Dao of old to govern the formed things of the present. To know the “ancient beginning” is to grasp the guiding thread of the Dao.” This whole chapter is entirely devoted to revealing the import of “profound emptiness.” “Ancient beginning” is the “nameless beginning of heaven and earth”—that is, the single thought-point of “emptiness.” Phrases such as cannot be seen, heard, or touched, cannot be pursued to the end, neither bright above nor dark below, hard to name, without shape or image—all strive to depict this one move of “empty void.” Yet those who cling to the physical body and fix their practice on the upper, middle, and lower dantian (energy centers) all run counter to Laozi’s intent of “profound emptiness.”

Zhuangzi says: “Tranquility, emptiness, and wuwei (non-action)—these are the root of the ten thousand things.” He also says: “When you rest, the mind empties; when the mind empties, you see what is real; what is real has order. When the mind empties, it is still; when still, it can move; when it moves, there is attainment.”

Explanation: “Rest” here means laying everything down—inside and out, body and mind—for a moment empty and still, until you reach great stillness (ding). When emptiness reaches its limit, subtle wonder appears. True emptiness is not empty, hence it is called “real.” An ancient of Chan (Zen) said: “To fathom the mind of the king of dharma, you must exhaust emptiness to the limit—only then can you accord with the de (virtue/power) that is not empty.” The point is the same.

Zhuangzi also says: “Only emptiness and tranquility accord with the virtue of Heaven (tiande).” Explanation: “Empty” is empty mind; “nothing” is emptying the body. When body and mind are empty and still, movement and stillness are both forgotten, and the Dao naturally returns—hence “accord with the virtue of Heaven.”

Zhuangzi also says: “Going out has no root; entering has no opening; going out and in yet no form is seen—this is called the Heavenly Gate. The Heavenly Gate is non-being (wu). Yet within non-being there is again a non-being; the sage hides his spirit here.” This is exactly the state: “Contemplate emptiness and emptiness too is empty; emptiness has nothing empty; what was empty is gone; no-no also is not; when no-no is gone, deep clarity is ever still”—the utmost of empty mystery.

This passage from the Tianle Ji weaves together the essentials of practice that take emptiness (xu) as its root: three lines from Patriarch Lü, Wang Chongyang, and the Jade Yang Immortal state the theme, and Li Daochun’s long verse unfolds how xu works in nurturing the heart, refining qi, returning the elixir, and the unity of the three teachings in one principle.

Patriarch Lü said: People everywhere hunt for the “wondrous aperture” (concrete tricks and acupoints), yet few awaken to the true purport (zhenquan) in the empty realm (kongji)—where the mind is empty and thoughts do not arise.

Wang Chongyang, the Perfected of Chongyang, said: To see true emptiness (zhen kong)—not dead blankness but emptiness that is awake and undimmed—primordial void (yuanshi xuwu) is the “ancestor” of all methods, their ultimate root.

The Jade Yang Immortal said: If in this life you wish to walk the path of ascending the clouds (dengyun lu)—the road to immortality—you must accord with emptiness (xuwu); without it you cannot become an immortal.

This is the ancient immortals’ outline of refining the heart through xu. Hence Li Daochun said:

With xu to nurture the heart, the heart becomes still; with xu to nurture qi, qi becomes usable. Thus xu is the great foundation under heaven. For immortals, buddhas, and Confucians, the three teachings transmit only one xu. Those who transcended since antiquity all worked within xu. Students of immortality take empty stillness (xujing) as the aim of the elixir; students of Buddhism enter Chan through sinking into emptiness (qianxu); if you ask how to become a sage, it lies in no-self in emptiness (xuzhong wuwo) to clarify heavenly principle.

The Dao-body is empty and void, subtle beyond exhaustion; heaven and earth move qi through emptiness, round and unobstructed; yin and yang push and stir creation through emptiness; when a person hides in emptiness, they can transform and adapt. The wonder of returning the elixir (huandan) lies in the valley of empty nothing (xuwu gu)—the domain of empty stillness; in practice one must “attain emptiness and guard stillness diligently” (Laozi). When emptiness reaches its limit, primordial qi naturally condenses; when stillness reaches its limit, yang returns and revives (yang lai fu)—the one yang arises, meaning innate yang qi stirs. Empty heart, full belly (xuxin shifu) is the foundation of the Dao; in gathering the medicine one does not obscure empty spirit (xu ling)—empty yet not dull; emptying oneself to respond to circumstances is true daily use; sharing the body with great emptiness (taixu) is the mark of a true man. Gathering lead (refining essence) must be in empty, still, non-action (xujing wuwei); advancing the fire takes emptiness as the bellows and key (tuoyue); withdrawal, addition, and subtraction all proceed from emptiness; only when empty space is shattered does one attain great awakening (dajue)—here, ultimate accomplishment.

He also said: After three and five merge into one (sanwu hunyi)—essence, qi, and spirit, or heaven, earth, and human—comes one return to emptiness (yi fan xu); after returning to emptiness even attachment to “emptiness” is released—neither nothing nor not-nothing (wuwu jiwu), pure and silent—hence the saying “the barbarian of the Western Heaven has no beard” (a metaphor for the ultimate being without marks, not to be grasped as form).

Books on the Dao through the ages rarely offer such a brief yet subtle summation.

Note: Terms such as “gathering lead,” “advancing the fire,” “withdrawal and addition,” “returning the elixir,” and “yang returns and revives” belong to Neidan (internal alchemy) language; in gist they mean refining essence, qi, and spirit within empty stillness, not chasing odd forms and tricks. Li’s verse “one emptiness for three teachings” reflects the Yuan-era unity of the three teachings (sanjiao heyi); read it for empty, still heart-essence, not for literal fire phases and timings.

Plain-language commentary

The verse says: Gather the heart back into emptiness, stillness, and silence, and let body and mind enter the state of Wuwei (non-action). The subtlety lies in “settling” (ding), and even more in “forgetting” (wang). At the beginning, practice heart-and-breath mutual reliance “outside the body”: let spirit gather and breath rest, merging with the Great Void—this is the skillful way to empty this heart and this body, and the straight path of entry for the Laozi lineage.

17. The True Teaching of Non-Abiding (Wuzhuo)

“Non-abiding” (wuzhuo) means having nowhere to lodge, the heart not clinging—forgetting things and feelings, no self and no others. Buddhism speaks of this often; here we speak only from the perspective of the Mysterious Gate (Xuanmen).

The Laozi says: “Clear! It seems to endure; I alone am tranquil, as yet without sign, like an infant not yet a child.” It also says: “Suddenly like the sea, drifting as if with nowhere to stop.” Both describe “non-abiding”—when the heart does not dwell on appearances, one can act in that way.

Zhuangzi, “Free and Easy Wandering”: “The perfected person has no self; the spirit-like person has no merit; the sage has no fame.” “The Great and Venerable Teacher” also speaks of “forgetting the world,” “forgetting things,” and “forgetting life”—all teaching release from emotion and non-clinging, which is the true meaning of “non-abiding.”

Master Guan Yin said: “The great self has no dwelling; form and things attach of themselves. In movement it is like water, in stillness like a mirror, in response like an echo—thus its Way is like things.” That too means the heart has nowhere to lodge; when responding to things it is like a mirror’s reflection or an echo—each in its measure, neither added nor subtracted. The subtle point is in the two characters “no dwelling”—not lodging in anything. When nothing is clung to, one can roam freely beyond the myriad transformations, move in and out of the three realms, and be unobstructed and at ease.

The Daodejing returns again and again to the virtue of bus hi—not leaning on one’s deeds or claiming credit. It says: “Give life yet do not possess; act yet do not rely on it; succeed yet do not dwell on the achievement”; “Higher De does not De, and therefore has De; lower De never loses De, and therefore is without De”; and “Heaven and Earth are not ren (benevolent)—they treat the ten thousand things as straw dogs.” Here “not ren” means not depending on or parading benevolence as a possession. Such passages fully express the aim of miaojin gongwang: when the subtle has been realized to the full, forget the merit of the work.

One who is wuzhuo—without fixed attachment—does not grasp either extreme and does not even settle on a “middle” to stand on; neither dwelling in birth-and-death nor refusing to move through it, neither dwelling in defilement and purity nor refusing to move through them—only then is one truly free. Laozi also says: “It cannot be drawn near for intimacy, nor kept at a distance; it cannot be used for profit, nor turned to harm; it cannot be honored, nor debased—therefore it is prized under heaven.” That is precisely the subtlety of wuzhuo on display.

Turn now to fanhuan gongfu, the work of returning: when xinxí miaohe—mind and breath are subtly united—has reached the point of softness, limpness, or numbness, all sorts of seyin (form-and-shadow) changes may arise. The student must not cling to them in the least. Where there is no attachment, there is no peril. The ancients repeatedly taught fangwei lüxian—guarding against danger and foreseeing risk—because the risk is that one fails to sheshen wangxing, to let go of the body and forget form, and instead still clings to the physical frame and its sensations within those states.

The Yinfu Jing says: “When heaven and the human unite in activation, the myriad transformations find their foundation.” What the Zhong–Lü line transmitted heart-to-heart was exactly this; what my own master passed down to me was the same. Later generations of cultivators, for the most part, have not gone beyond this aim. So these two lines are really one continuous, closely guarded theme—the great outline for passing the three passes and genuinely practicing the Dao.

Someone asked: “What does ‘heaven and the human unite in activation’ mean?”

The answer: “Applying huohou (the timing and intensity of practice—when to lift, nourish, add, or withdraw) outside the body belongs to the deliberate, ‘with effort’ side of nature: you follow the method and proceed step by step.”

They asked again: “What does ‘the myriad transformations find their foundation’ mean?”

The answer: “The signs and changes that appear on the physical body belong to the effortless, ‘without contrivance’ side of nature—not something you force, but what the body and mind naturally manifest when the work is ripe.”

Yet if you do not grasp this move of “outside the body,” you are left with only the human side and not heaven, and it is hard to feel the subtlety of heaven and human activating together, inner and outer answering each other. It is like a puppet on stage: as soon as the axes and lines outside the body turn and pull, the puppet’s bearing and movements can be exquisitely right. Dandao (internal alchemy) is the same: all huohou is applied in the void outside the body—that is, the outer xuan gate (wai xuanguan), the gate of total mastery (zongchi zhi men), the master pivot outside mind and body yet corresponding to them—while every change and every verification of the method appears on the physical body. That is the crux of dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu) and of heaven and human uniting in activation.

In General Discourse on the Unity of the Three Teachings, the Master explains that on the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, from the first steps of refining the self and laying the foundation through advancing fire, retreating symbols, and the small and great heavenly circuits, every method, every measure of fire, and every change turns on the single key of “the void outside the body.” Hold on to even the slightest attachment in the post-heaven physical form—the flesh and ordinary body-mind formed after birth—and it is “a hair’s breadth off, and the elixir will not form”: miss by that much and the elixir cannot be made. When this move outside the body is truly settled, the physical form can return toward the condition of a child’s body. One is cultivating the Dharma body while also cultivating the physical form, which is why it is called dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming shuangxiu). Proceed further to refining the form in true void, and one may ascend in broad daylight. The subtlety is here—can you see it?

The Secret of Yin says: “The cosmos is in your hand; the myriad transformations are born from your body.” To grasp this move outside the body is to grasp “the cosmos is in your hand”; once you grasp that, “the myriad transformations are born from your body” follows naturally and is nothing strange. You must always keep clear: dual cultivation means two essential undertakings, not one thing blurred into a single lump. Hence the text also says, “Heaven and human merge in activation; the myriad transformations establish the foundation”—can you tell these two levels apart?

I say: The subtle key to heaven and human activating together lies in whether one can grasp “this move beyond the body.” Journey to the West jokingly calls it “Old Sun outside the body” (a pun on shenwai gong, “skill outside the body”). Laozi names it “the nameless, the beginning of heaven and earth.” Therefore, if one can begin from “the nameless, the beginning of heaven and earth,” one aligns with “what is before heaven, and heaven does not go against it”—what difficulty is there in transcending heaven and earth?

When one’s own yin and yang (heart-mind and breath) are merged into empty void and one returns to the state before one’s parents had begotten one, body-mind and the Great Void blend in dark union. The true yang within the Great Void arrives without being summoned; true water and true fire meet without being awaited; the single qi’s advance and retreat turn without being arranged. Once the water and fire of nature and life have interpenetrated, the spiritual elixir is known to be formed without deliberate knotting—this is the pivot of the essential teaching, the secret of following heaven and responding to people.

How can this compare to clinging to the post-heaven physical form and only doing inner visualization and circulation within the body? Therefore, those who understand “heaven and human unite in activation” are concerned with two layers of heaven and earth and four yin-yang, with inverted wondrous use—not something ordinary people can fathom.

Plain-Language Explanation

The cultivation and verification taught in the profound Xuan tradition come down to “no split between self and other, form and emptiness as one.” Carried to the limit, body and spirit both become wondrous, and one merges with the Dao and attains true realization.

When you first begin, you must first grasp the move of “the void outside the body”: place mind and breath outside the body and rest in dependence on empty space. Practice this way for a long time, and melting into oneness with the void happens naturally. Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) can both be fixed together in the void, and the physical form will naturally become empty. Inner and outer both empty—this stirs and that responds—and pre-heaven primordial Qi will arrive in the body and interpenetrate in mutual exchange. This is the marvel Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) described as “mouth to mouth, aperture to aperture.”

Pre-heaven primordial Yang embraces the spiritual body and sustains the physical body; physical body and spiritual body are nourished together—dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu). The work at this stage can truly “win back a year’s worth of cosmic transformation,” which is why the Zhenkong danfa (Vacuum Elixir Method) is utterly unlike side paths and heterodox methods.

The poem that Zhang Sanfeng (the Realized One of Three Peaks) wrote to Li Yuanyang says: “Heaven and earth are vast as a zither—pluck it again and again; breath is harmonized as a single bamboo flute’s note.” It states plainly: heart and breath must rely on each other, yet the place where they are settled should be in the void outside the body—relying there, outside the body; settling there, outside the body—only then does it match the subtlety of heaven and human merging and issuing forth. What is called “cultivating beyond yin and yang” is in fact a secret pointer to the void outside the body; what Laozi meant by “the nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth” is the same idea.

Neidan scriptures are unwilling to speak plainly and often substitute phrases like “that place,” “his/other’s home,” “that household.” The Wuzhen Pian (Understanding Reality) says: “Take the deathless formula from his/other’s home.” Qianxu’s Jindan Jiuzheng Pian (Straightening the Golden Elixir) says: “Pre-heaven essence accumulates in my body; pre-heaven Qi is taken from that place.” It also says: “I have read countless alchemical books on the great medicine of long life—all say one must obtain pre-heaven True Yi Qi to succeed. Ask where the Qi comes from and the answer is always: from that place. Yet within the human body, is there truly no such Qi, so that one must seek it in that place? Those who believe are few; those who doubt are countless.” Alchemical books are secretive and hardest to read; once one knows the void outside the body as the key move, every metaphor can be unraveled.

The principle of the elixir path is to unite absolute, non-dual void with dual yin-yang into one: void is the elixir mother, is Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); yin-yang correspond to heart-breath and spirit-Qi, forming the two forms (liangyi). Unify the three into one; in reverse cultivation one becomes an immortal.

Plain-Language Explanation

I. The Void and Heart–Breath

“The void” corresponds to the images of the innate Qian and Kun; “heart–breath” (mind and respiration) corresponds to the images of the acquired Kan and Li. The practice is to place heart–breath in the outer void and let them rely on each other. When that mutual reliance reaches its limit, transformation occurs: neither going out nor coming in, neither departing nor arriving—returning from the Two Modes to the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). Once body–mind and the void are fused, one can “use” them together with the void—that is, returning from the acquired to the innate.

In other words, one gradually merges and harmonizes this small cosmos of oneself with the great cosmos of Qian and Kun, so that one may “seize heaven and earth’s creating and transforming” and unite the three realms in a single person.

II. Non-Duality of Self and Other and Returning the Elixir

The void is “other”; heart–breath is “self.” Placing heart–breath in the outer void to merge them is “self and other not two”—able to stabilize the other, the self, the whole person, and the realm. Then innate primordial qi comes without being summoned and arrives without being sought.

Thus the Way of the Golden Elixir is entirely a matter of the void: begin from the void outside the body, and finish in the void outside the body—what the ancients called the great Way of empty mystery. Zhang Ziyang said: “The Way of returning the elixir is utmost simple and easy—nothing more than this (○).” Li Qing’an said: “All who have transcended from ancient times to now have all taken their effort from within the void.” One may consult these lines for the meaning.

III. Interplay of Guest and Host

(The heading “Interplay of guest and host” refers to how host and guest, self and other, intersect and merge in practice; the text above already explains the void as guest and heart–breath as host, and the principle of mutual reliance and merging.)

Tianle Ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy)

(Continuing the honorific titles of Patriarch Lü)

Zhang Ziqiong said: “When cultivation reaches the point where form and spirit merge in dark unity, one then knows that form and appearance are precisely empty void.” At that stage, guest and host interpenetrate each other; one no longer calls him Guest Elder (Bin Weng) but Return Elder (Hui Weng). In Patriarch Lü’s line of titles is secretly folded the arcane rationale of the elixir method.

Twenty-Two: The Mysterious Pass—Body and Function

The elixir method has three secrets: the Mysterious Pass (Xuanguan), the medicinals, and the firing times. The Mysterious Pass is the root of refining the elixir. One should seek it where the four aggregates are not clung to and the Five Phases do not reach—only then can one grasp its gist. This aperture has body and function, inner and outer. Here the outer Mysterious Pass is sketched first: the circle is body, the single vertical stroke is function. When the two unite in harmony, the Mysterious Pass is established; its image is like a circle joined to a vertical line. Chen Xubai’s Guidelines for the Center (Guizhong Zhinan) uses a similar figure with the same intent. Mountain dweller Ke Baozhen said: “The Mysterious Pass is not there to begin with; it appears only after spirit and qi have met.” That remark is excellent—once spirit and qi intersect, one enters the Mysterious Pass. I add another figure to fill out Xubai’s meaning: the image is like a circled dot. In it, one part resembles the form of the name Lü, and its subtle opening is the same as “mysterious” (xuan); another part resembles the form “return” (hui), and its subtle opening is union and free flow. Body and function at once, inner and outer at once, form and dharma at once, host and guest at once—a single, undivided image. Truly, one may call this profound.

Twenty-Three: The Mysterious Pass—Opening the Eye

(This section is titled “Opening the Eye of the Mysterious Pass.” If the complete edition of the work contains a separate main text for this chapter, it should be supplied from that edition before a full translation can be given.)

In Zhonghe Ji (Collection of Harmony and Balance), Li Qing'an writes: "The Mysterious Pass (xuanguan yiqiao)—the single aperture—is the most profound and essential pivot. It is not at the Yintang point, not at the fontanel, not at the navel, not at the bladder, not at the two kidneys, not in front of the kidneys and behind the navel, and not between the two kidneys. From the crown down to the heels, wherever in the whole body you might place it—that is not it. Yet you cannot seek it outside this body, somewhere beyond the flesh. That is why the sages indicated it with a single word, zhong (center); what zhong points to is precisely this. I will use a comparison to make it easier to grasp: think of a puppet. The hands and feet perform all sorts of movements—not because the puppet moves on its own, but because strings pull it. Though the crucial point lies in the pivot on the strings, what truly pulls is the puppeteer. Alas! Can you recognize this puppeteer? Do not doubt further—I will tell you plainly: the puppet stands for this physical form (se shen); the strings stand for the Mysterious Pass; the puppeteer stands for the true master (zhu ren gong). Every movement of the body's hands and feet is not the hands and feet moving by themselves—it is the Mysterious Pass that moves them. Though the Mysterious Pass moves, it is the true master who makes the Mysterious Pass move. If you recognize this pivot of 'movement,' what fear is there of not attaining transcendence?"

Commentary

The puppet is a metaphor for our physical body. The string pivot that moves the puppet actually refers to the mechanism of opening and closing in the breath at the mouth and nose—the outer respiration. Yet you must neither fix on the physical form nor abandon it entirely. It is innate from the pre-heaven (xiantian) and continued in the post-heaven (houtian), located about an inch outside the nostrils—the point from which breath enters and leaves and from which movement is initiated. The true master, also called "Grandfather Sun" (Sun waigong—a homophone for shen wai gong, "practice outside the body"), is the place where the void outside the body comes to rest.

Qing’an also said: Many people today identify the Xuan Gate (xuanguan) with the navel wheel, the Yintang point, the space between the two kidneys, or the area in front of the kidneys and behind the navel—such views all belong to pangmen (side paths that stray from the correct way). The alchemical classics say: the single aperture of the Xuan Gate (xuanguan yiqiao) is not in east, south, west, north, above, below, inside, outside, off to one side, or in the exact center of the body; it lies where the four great elements (the body composed of earth, water, fire, and wind) and the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) cannot be pinned down.

The commentary says: Is not the region about jingcun (roughly an inch) outside the nostrils, in empty space, precisely where the four great elements and Five Phases do not attach? Within it there is naturally a mechanism of opening and closing—is this not the Gate of the Mysterious Female (xuanpin zhi men)? From this we know that the Xuan Gate is one aperture within emptiness and nothingness. It exists before Heaven and Earth, yet connects with postnatal breath and life: shunyong (following ordinary breathing and desire) sinks one into the mundane; niyong (gathering spirit and regulating breath, reversing the usual flow) enters the sage’s realm. Both the gate of death (si hu) and the gate of life (sheng men) depend on this single aperture. At the outset of Xuanzong (the authentic teaching of internal refinement), ning shen diao xi (concentrating spirit and regulating breath) takes this aperture as its starting point.

Twenty-four: Collected Explanations of the Xuan Gate

The Xuan Gate is the doorway through which mind and breath meet; hence it is also called the Gate of the Mysterious Female (xuanpin zhi men). It also appears under many other names—zuku, guizhong, huangting, qixue, shenshi, tufu, neiyuan, qihai, guigen qiao, fuming guan, wuji men, gengxin shi, zhonghuang fang, zhenyi chu, xinan xiang, longhu xue, huangpo she, shouyi tan, danyuan fu, huangjin shi, and the like. Though the names differ, they all point to the same thing: a single point of empty space outside the body, where it meets human life—the place where breathing begins, ends, and passes in and out.

Zhong Liquan (Master Zhongli) called it “the gate that gives me life, the portal of my death,” and that saying carries real depth. This chapter gathers sayings from many schools for mutual confirmation, so students need no longer waver in doubt, and need no longer insist on locating the Xuan Gate at some spot inside the body.

This passage belongs to the Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) tradition. Its core move is to take the “valley spirit” (gushen) and “Mysterious Female” (xuanpin) of the Liezi and Daodejing and ground them in breath regulation, the mutual resting of spirit and breath, and the handling of huohou (fire phases) within the “extra-body void space.”

Scriptural sources

The Liezi, “Heaven’s Gifts” (Tian Rui), cites the Yellow Emperor’s Book: “The valley spirit does not die; this is called the Mysterious Female. The gate of the Mysterious Female is called the root of Heaven and Earth. Subtle, as if present—use it without strain.” The same lines appear in Laozi’s Daodejing. Thus the designation xuanpin was first set out by the Yellow Emperor and later restated by Laozi; later alchemical classics have taken it as their ancestral theme for a very long time.

Word meanings

“Xuan” refers to Heaven; “pin” refers to Earth. “Gate” means emptiness. Above is Heaven, below is Earth, and between them is a void. From this one knows that the “gate of the Mysterious Female” is the void that is the “valley.”

“Root” and the locus of practice

○ (This method fixes on the void outside the body.) It is the void beyond the physical form, situated in the middle between Heaven and Earth, hence it is called the “root.” To nourish the valley spirit here, to regulate breath and nurture Qi here, and to apply huohou here is like the pivoting of the Big Dipper’s handle; without taking hold here, the zhoutian (circuit of heaven) cannot be turned and carried through.

The work of “subtle, as if present”

If the learner can rest spirit and breath together at the center of the void, wholly without clinging to the physical body—seeming to be there yet not quite there, seeming to forget yet not quite forgetting—then after long mutual resting, things naturally bind firm and fuse without gap. That is the work of “subtle, as if present; use it without strain.” Ordinary breath turns into true breath. At this stage the learner is as if riding clouds and mist; the eighty-four thousand pores of the body open wide, and the true yang of Heaven and Earth penetrates through the pores. The four limbs and the hundred joints grow soft and pleasantly tingling, beyond words. Hence it is said: “When post-heaven breathing stirs a light breeze, the true person’s breath-work is set in motion.”

Why one must begin from “extra-body void”

If one does not start from the “extra-body void,” ordinary breath cannot be stabilized, and one cannot possibly reach the state of gui gen fu ming (returning to the root and restoring life), nor can one match the subtlety of “Heaven and human issuing forth together.” With spirit and breath both fixed in the void, one uses yuanqi (primordial Qi) to nourish yuanshen (primordial spirit). Spirit receiving the nourishment of Qi is like a fish in water, or flowers and trees revived by rain and dew, or a lamp brightening as it is fed with oil. Outwardly it is the valley spirit; inwardly it is the five viscera—nothing is outside the permeation of the one Qi. Day by day fostering and cultivating, how could the valley spirit die? Therefore Master Ziyang’s Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) says: “If you would have the valley spirit long undying, you must by the Mysterious Female lay your foundation. When true gold returns to the golden chamber, one pearl of light never leaves.”

In the Dao De Jing, references to “Xuan Guan” (the Mysterious Pass) can be understood in several parallel passages.

First passage: “Deep and again deep—the gate of all wonders.” This points to this very aperture of Xuan Guan—where Qian and Kun meet, and from which every subtle principle arises; hence it is called “the gate of all wonders.” Tanzi also names it the “Gate of Vast Qi” (the doorway through which immense qi enters and exits)—the same idea.

Second passage: “Heaven and earth—are they not like a bellows? Empty yet not collapsed; moved, and more comes forth. Much talk leads to exhaustion; better to hold to the center.”

Explanation: Heaven and earth are like Xuan Pin (Xuan as heaven, Pin as earth, symbolizing the union of yin and yang). Heaven mysterious, earth receptive—between them is emptiness without fixed form; that image is Xuan Guan. The earlier line describes ti (the root structure); the later line describes yong (function and practice).

Tuoyue (bellows) is the wind box used in smelting to fan the fire. Between heaven and earth, one qi circulates—still and active, closed and open—like a bellows. In the human body, this is breathing. Ordinarily mind and breath go their separate ways; the bellows is pumped wildly without measure, and one cannot feel the subtlety of he (closing) and pi (opening). If one knows how to guide qi with shen, so that shen and breath stay together, with breathing fine and unbroken, then the true breath is like the bellows: it can draw heavenly harmony, nourish life, transform bone and flesh, and transcend the ordinary to reach sagehood—is this not the wondrous application of the immortals’ way? Hence: “Much talk leads to exhaustion; better to hold to the center.” Here zhong (the center) is Xuan Guan. How to hold it? Hold it with shen—shen and breath mutually relying, never parting.

Confucian teaching speaks of “attaining the mean and harmony”; Buddhist teaching speaks of “turning the breath back and following emptiness”—both are this kind of work. What the Xuan teaching calls “center” is precisely where Qian and Kun unite; hence the saying “where Qian and Kun unite—that is the true center.”

The third passage follows a style reminiscent of the Daode Jing: “The Dao, as that which is, seems hazy and indistinct; within that haze there is something concrete; within that dimness there is a form that appears; within depth and obscurity there is refined qi. That refinement is utterly real—within it there is trust and verification.” Four successive uses of “within” (zhong) again underscore the Mystic Pass (xuanguan)—in neidan, the crucial site where spirit and qi meet and the elixir coalesces. Huan, hu, yao, and ming describe the misty, deep scene when yin and yang unite. Once yin and yang join, creation unfolds of itself, and so there are “image, thing, essence, and trust.” At that stage the Mystic Pass’s function stands fully revealed.

The fourth quoted passage says: “A great state should be like one that lies downstream, becoming the place where all under heaven converges, like the female of all under heaven. The female constantly overcomes the male by stillness, and by stillness holds the lower place.” The commentary here is that “the great state downstream” is a metaphor—not statecraft, but the pattern of the male lying beneath the female: spirit entering the qi cavity (yuan shen, the original spirit, sinking into the aperture that corresponds to breath and refined qi), then moving downward to meet breath (respiration and fetal breath and the like). “The convergence of all under heaven” points straight at the Mystic Pass as that aperture. Pin (the female) symbolizes emptiness, stillness, and yielding; through emptiness and softness, breath and spirit interweave, intimate and never sundered. When spirit and breath harmonize, heaven and earth interpenetrate in mutual peace, and only then can the root of elixir refinement be established.

Master Hanxu said: “This aperture lies at the true center of the human body—hence ‘the convergence of all under heaven.’ Within it runs the way of yielding—hence ‘the female of all under heaven.’ Speaking of the female way, the principle of the Mysterious Female (xuanpin) is included, so it is also called xuanpin. Xuanpin is one qian and one kun, one firm and one yielding; without that pattern, spirit grows bold and qi grows bold—they contend and pull apart instead. Therefore one uses the male below the female, spirit below qi, inverting roles so they meet; yin and yang couple, spirit and qi converge, and the foundation can be laid.” This aligns closely with the subtle meaning of the present passage.

This passage comes from the traditional Daoist reading of internal alchemy (Neidan) and dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu). It explains how the character zhong (“center”) in different classics lines up with one another.

Zhuangzi does not use Laozi-style phrases such as xuanpin (“mysterious female”) outright, but it says in effect: place the pivot at the hub of the ring, and through that “ring” nurture the inner “center.” The author takes the two occurrences of zhong in Zhuangzi as the same zhong as in Laozi’s shou zhong (“holding the center”). In the Duren Jing, the zhong in zhong li wu qi (“the center regulates the five qi”) refers specifically in practice to the Xuanguan yiqiao (Mysterious Pass, the single aperture)—usually understood as an extremely subtle, decisive inner pivot through which the five qi are harmonized.

The two characters huan zhong (“hub of the ring”) are especially apt, in the author’s view: a ring has neither head nor tail; its beginning and end meet. Yet the exact middle of the ring is empty—there is nothing solid there. Is that not the image of yuan kong ○, an empty circle, void yet whole? The whole discussion uses Zhuangzi’s image to tie together shou zhong, the Mysterious Pass, and the cultivation motif of void and fullness.

After Zhuangzi, the clearest exposition of the “Xuan Guan” (Mysterious Pass) belongs to Wei Boyang, the Eastern Han master of Neidan (internal alchemy), in his Cantong Qi (Understanding the Kinship of the Three). The text says: “Square and round, a inch in measure, blended and mutually bound; before heaven and earth existed, lofty and revered on high. Beside it stand walls and towers, shaped like the Penglai isle.” The imagery is pushed to an extreme.

“Square and round, an inch in measure” refers to the region about an inch square outside the nostrils—in that small compass traced by a single round rule, the activating mechanism of in-and-out breathing is lodged. “Blended and mutually bound” means utterly without trace, yet holding its own transforming power; pre-heaven and post-heaven (in Neidan often called the “two heavens”) meet and hand off right here. “Before heaven and earth existed” means that before heaven and earth had taken shape, this aperture (the inner-scape gate of the Xuan Guan, the Gate of Nature and Life, and the like) was already there—so the mysterious aperture cannot be sought by clinging only to the form body (the visible, fleshly body). Within that form, from crown to heel, nothing is not post-heaven. One must search toward “the nameless beginning of heaven and earth” (a phrase from the Laozi, pointing to the undivided chaos before forms and names) before it can be found. “Lofty and revered on high” stresses its natural dignity: it does not depend on human effort or artifice, and is unlike ordinary things. The lines about “walls and towers” beside it liken it to the celestial root spirit chamber where the primordial spirit dwells; students must not take the words literally.

The Cantong Qi also says: “When the upper is closed, it is called ‘being’; when the lower is closed, it is called ‘non-being.’ Non-being is used to support what is above; above dwells the spirit and numen. This method of the two aperture-orifices—golden Qi (vital breath of the metal phase) also mutually assists.” Zhu Yuanyu, a Ming–Qing Neidan master, said: “The two aperture-orifices are the subtle openings used by the Kan and Li trigrams—the so-called Gate of the Mysterious Female, which most people do not understand.” In my view, when spirit and Qi (vital energy) wondrously unite at the Yellow Center (the central palace, the Huangting region), being and non-being interpenetrate, Yin and Yang blend, and one returns to the beginningless—that is the secret of the “method of the two aperture-orifices.” What Zhou Dunyi (Song dynasty Confucian, also cited by Neidan authors) called “the authenticity of the Supreme Ultimate without limit, the essence of two and five, wondrously joined and congealed” speaks to the same meaning.

After Wei Boyang, the one who spoke most skillfully about the “Mysterious Pass” (xuanguan) was Zhang Boduan, the Perfected Person of Purple Yang. In the preface to Four Hundred Words on the Golden Elixir, he writes: Within the human body there is one gate called the “Mysterious Female” (xuanpin). It is not in the heart, not in the kidneys, not in the mouth or nose, not in the spleen or stomach, not in the anal passage, and not in the bladder, the Dantian (energy center), or the Muddy Pellet (niwan, upper palace). Whoever can recognize this single aperture finds here the moment of the winter solstice (the return of the single Yang and the time to gather the “medicine”), here the “medicine,” here the firing process (huohou), here the “bathing,” here the “forming of the embryo,” and here the “leaving the body.” This aperture is said to have neither outer boundary nor inner limit—a hint in the dark that it points toward empty void; if you search only inside the flesh, how could it be called without boundary or within? It is the root of spirit and Qi (vital energy) and the valley of empty non-being (four characters that already lay bare the inner secret). You must seek it “within the body” (the word “within” is used subtly: not inside the body, not outside it, but in the space between cloud and mist). You must not look for it anywhere else (clinging to the self alone is wrong; grasping at outer things is wrong; holding to “the center” comes a little closer).

Four Hundred Words also says: “This aperture is no ordinary hole; Qian and Kun together compose it. Its name is the cavity of spirit and Qi; within it are the essences of Kan and Li.” The explanation runs: “No ordinary hole” means you cannot locate it on the vulgar physical form—you must know it is not a hole with appearance or shape. “Qian and Kun together compose it” means Qian above and Kun below, with emptiness in the middle and nothing solid, showing that the aperture lies where Qian and Kun meet. Immortal Lord Ge (Ge Hong) said, “Where Qian and Kun join is the true center; the center in empty non-being is vast and wide”—that is the same idea. Luo Yuanyuan said, “One aperture of empty non-being in the midst of Heaven and Earth, intimately wound and sealed, admitting no wind”—again the same meaning. Outside the body, Qian and Kun correspond; inside the body, Kan and Li correspond. Since the text says “Qian and Kun compose it together”… (what follows continues in this vein, explaining how inner Kan and Li correspond to outer Qian and Kun.)

The scripture speaks of “Qian and Kun joining”—meaning that union takes shape before Heaven and Earth are divided; it is not inside this physical body of yours, and that point must be understood. What is called the “spirit–qi cavity” is where mind and breath depend on each other, and also where spirit and qi “return to the root.” Immortal Ge said, “Gather dragon and tiger and hide them in the aperture”—that is exactly this.

“Within are the essences of Kan and Li”—when one enters great absorption (deep samadhi), then “the medicament arises in the mysterious aperture, and the firing time stirs in the yang furnace.” This means spirit and qi return to the root in emptiness, and the alchemical medicament arises of itself. The “mysterious aperture” is the One returning to spirit; the “medicament” is the Two transforming into yin and yang. The wonder of the golden elixir lies in Kan and Li (the images of water and fire); the wonder of Kan and Li, in turn, never departs from the innate primordial Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). Wuzhen pian says: “Few in the world know the gate of the mysterious female; wrongly they apply effort at the mouth and nose. Even if one practices breathing for many years, how can one seize the golden crow and hold down the jade hare?” This warns people not to fix on this colored body and hunt for some “mysterious pass.” If even mouth and nose are not the true locus, how much less the space between heart and kidneys, between the two eyebrows, or the spot one inch and three tenths below the navel? In short, once you cling to the colored body, you fall into the post-heaven and are no longer “mysterious.”

Someone asked: Isn’t the Mysterious Pass (xuanguan) simply the empty space outside the body? Why did Immortal Ziyang not say “seek it outside the body,” but rather “seek it within the body”?

Answer: Though this aperture lies outside the physical form, it is closest to the nose and mouth. Within the compass of a single circle, in the space of a few inches—where breath is stirred, between the visible body and empty space—it is the hub of the human person, the place where spirit (Shen) and Qi return to their root, and where pre-heaven and post-heaven meet; hence it is called “within the body.” In sum, this aperture does not belong to the physical body, yet it cannot be wholly separated from it. To fix on the physical body alone is wrong; to seek it entirely apart from the physical body is also wrong. The subtle point is “neither clinging nor leaving”: not stuck to this body, yet not abandoning this body either. Outside the nasal aperture, within empty space, at the place where incoming and outgoing breath begins—like the pivot of the strings on a marionette, the master switch of the whole body’s movement—that is where the Mysterious Pass resides. If one only said “seek it outside the body,” one would fear that misguided people would shift their practice onto women’s bodies and pursue heterodox paths such as the “three peaks” and battle-for-essence techniques. The ancients did not use the word “center” (zhong) to hide their own shame; they also spoke of “where Qian and Kun unite.” The Doctrine of the Mean in the Book of Rites says: “Centrality is the great root of the world; harmony is the universal Way of the world. When centrality and harmony are fully realized, heaven and earth take their places and the myriad things flourish.” How subtle! How subtle! Ziyang’s Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) also says: “I urge you to exhaustively seek the place where life dwells; returning to the root and restoring the origin is the king of medicines.” This “place where life dwells” is another name for the Mysterious Pass. Another question: What is meant by the place where life dwells?

Answer: True Person Zheng Heyang said: “I come from emptiness, and I shall return to emptiness; coming and going are all within emptiness. One may plant in emptiness a ‘tree of karma’—when its roots go deep, its branches and leaves will block the path of coming and going.” This is pointing out that where the living body is established lies right here. Try this: with one breath in and out beyond the nose, when the impulse stops, the human body is like a puppet that topples—is this not precisely the secret of the living body? In the end, this aperture of emptiness (xukong) can both give birth to me and extinguish me; hence the ancients called it the gate of birth and death. Zhongli Quan said: “The gate that gives me life is the door that ends my life.” What he meant is the Mysterious Pass (xuanguan). Patriarch Zhong also said: “If you wish to know where the Golden Elixir truly settles, apply your effort at the body not yet born.” Zhang Jinghe said: “If you recognize it before you are born, you know you must be a great Luó immortal.” Yin Qinghe said: “To know your original true face, in the place before birth there is a wheel of clear light.” All of these point straight at the fact that where the living body is established comes down to this move upon emptiness. Therefore the earlier masters said: “Once you have the oral formula, begin practice in emptiness—that is dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu); leave emptiness and there is no second path.” This can be said to exhaust the celestial secret; ten thousand volumes of alchemical books dare not speak so plainly.

After the Purple Yang Immortal (Ziyang Zhenren, Zhang Boduan), among those who explained the “Xuanguan” (Mysterious Pass) well, Chen Xubai’s Guidelines for the Center Within (Guizhong Zhinan) deserves special weight. The book presents an “Xuanyin Diagram” and cites the line: “The true person hides deep in the abyss, drifting and guarding within the rule-of-center.” It also says: “Xuanyin—white as cotton, linked like a ring, one cun and two fen in width and breadth, wrapping the refined essence of the whole body.” It takes verses from the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) as proof. On this book’s reading, Xubai’s diagram directly shows “heart and breath mutually relying”—heart and breathing hold each other, never parting or scattering. Two circles overlapped form the character for “three,” meaning heart and breath together return to emptiness.

He also wrote On Xuanyin, saying that within the body there is one aperture called Xuanyin: it receives Qi to give life and is truly the storehouse of spirit; Jing, Qi, and Shen—the three treasures—gather here without further distinction. Spirit, essence, soul, and will converge at this point; it is the root of the Golden Elixir’s return and the place where immortals form the sacred embryo. Ancients called it the stem of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the handle of the pre-heaven, the ancestor of emptiness, the root of chaos, the valley of great void, the source of creation—or named it the aperture of returning to the root, the pass of restoring life, the divine chamber of the One Lord, the Spirit Platform, the Crimson Palace—all pointing to the same locus.

Yet when you seek it in the body, it is neither mouth nor nose, neither heart nor kidneys, neither liver nor lungs, neither spleen nor stomach; not the navel wheel, not the coccyx, not the bladder, not the anal passage; not the point between the two kidneys, not one cun three fen below the navel, not the Mud Ball (Niwan) between the eyebrows (the Bright Hall), nor the Gate of Origin or the Sea of Qi. Where is it after all? The answer: my secret formula is named “guizhong”—with the mind undivided and unwavering, one becomes an embryo immortal. The Cantong qi (Scripture of the Unity of the Three) says “The true person hides in the deep abyss, drifting and guarding within the rule-of-center”—this is that. The Daodejing says “Much talk reaches its limit; better to hold the center”—right where Qian is below and Kun above, Zhen west and Dui east, Kan and Li with water and fire meeting: this “center” is what guizhong and Xuanyin guard.

This passage discusses key points in internal alchemy (Neidan) practice—places such as the Zhonggong (central palace) and Xuan guan (mysterious pass)—which are not located on any particular piece of flesh, yet truly govern the hub of jing, qi, and shen (essence, vital energy, and spirit).

Orientation and the “place of union”

The text uses the eight trigrams (Bagua) as metaphor: below Qian (Heaven, above) and above Kun (Earth, below), west of Zhen (east) and east of Dui (west—in other words, the very center where Heaven and Earth meet and yin and yang join. This is called the place where Kan and Li, water and fire, unite (Kan is water, Li is fire; here water and fire achieve mutual completion and yin and yang harmonize). In the human body, it is said that the person is the true center between Heaven and Earth.

Structure within the body (as metaphor)

The eight extraordinary vessels, nine orifices, and the network of channels linked together: the meridians and openings of the whole body connect with one another; in the midst is a single vacant opening, like a grain-sized pearl suspended there (a cinnabar pearl the size of a millet grain—a image for something extremely subtle yet concentrated, “a single point”). It does not stand by physical form—it cannot be treated as a fixed organ in anatomy; it comes to be only through embodying the Dao—it appears when one truly realizes the Great Way. Seemingly there, seemingly not; as if lost, as if present; neither inside nor outside, yet holding Heaven and Earth within: one cannot assign it a fixed location, yet one cannot say it is utterly absent; within it lies the principle of yin and yang in Heaven and Earth. “Yellow in the center, penetrating in principle; correct in position, firm in the body”—from the Book of Changes: centered, penetrating, and holding the middle without bias.

Mutual confirmation in the classics

The Book of Documents says “Be pure and single-minded; sincerely hold the center”: purity and singleness of purpose, faithfully keeping to the middle way. The Duren Jing (Scripture of Salvation) says “Harmonize the five qi in the central principle; blend and complete the hundred spirits”: in the central palace one regulates the five qi and preserves the hundred spirits in unity. The Neidan master Cui Xuanbai (Master Cui) said this opening can run through the weilü and connect with the niwan—from the tail region up to the niwan palace at the crown. The Pure Yang Immortal (in the lineage of Lü Dongbin) said “ exhaustively seek the moment when life first received qi”—one must penetrate the point where life first received and gained qi; Zhang Boduan (Ping Shu) said “I urge you to exhaustively seek where life itself arises”—he urges seekers to find the source of “being born into a body.” All of these refer to where the primordial qi of the upper origin (xian tian yi qi) is generated and where true breath (the natural breath / innate breath) is established. Bai Yuchan (Yuchan) also called it “where the thought first stirs”—the instant a thought begins to move, before it scatters—the pass where the five qi blend completely and spirit and qi embrace.

Consequences of not understanding this opening

If those who refine the elixir do not grasp this opening, true breath cannot abide (innate breath cannot settle), and spiritual transformation has no foundation (there is no footing for transcendent change).

Before Heaven, After Heaven, and chaos

This opening exists before Heaven and is joined in After Heaven: it is there prior to the cosmos and is connected to body and mind through cultivation. The two breaths, before and after (innate qi and acquired qi) here altogether become hundun (chaos): “Dark and dim, within it is jing; vague and indistinct, within it is a thing”—from the Daodejing, meaning that within chaos there is essence and there is “something,” yet the thing is not an ordinary thing, the essence is not ordinary essence—not the things and essences of daily experience. Heaven gains this and becomes clear; Earth gains this and becomes still; the human gains this and becomes spiritually potent.

Immortal Tan (Tan Qiao) said: only by finding the gate of hao qi (vast, primordial qi) can one return to the root; only by knowing the storehouse of the original spirit (xian tian zhi shen) can one hide the light; like a clam holding a pearl or jade hidden in stone—the chamber of pearl and jade—all say that this opening is the refuge and treasure-house of jing, qi, and shen.

Do not seek it wrongly

This opening has no boundary and no inside or outside. If you try to feel or find it through bodily form, color, and appearance, you go gravely astray. Therefore: do not cling to empty non-action (do not deaden yourself in blank stillness); do not fix it in deliberate doing (do not treat it as a fixed exercise or outer shape); do not bog down in visualization (do not obsess over picturing a form); do not attach to forced guarding (do not rigidly hold one spot). One must realize it between movement and stillness, yin and yang, the moment before thoughts arise and true breath—not by hunting for a point on the flesh.

When Danjing (alchemical scriptures) describe the sages’ faxiang (method of imagery), they often use several similes. Some say that at the subtle place something rises high and rounded, shaped like the immortal’s gourd—closed without yet open within, with Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) turning inside. Others compare it to a chicken egg, black and white embracing each other, about an inch across; taking that as the starting point, only after ten months does one emerge from the “womb.” Still others speak of something white as plain silk, ring-like as interlinked circles, about one inch and two fen square, enclosing the Jing (essence) of the whole person. All of these point to the secret of Xuanguan (the critical locus where spirit and Qi meet in Neidan (internal alchemy)), and reveal the pivot of Zaohua (the process of life’s arising and transformation).

Students who do not exhaust its mystery and probe its depth may, in practice, cling to the outer shape of the “gourd,” fix on visualizing the “egg,” or imagine the “linked rings”—making outer form and inner scene match such images, treating youwei (deliberate, contrived action) as something truly there, and falling into delusion through “preserving spirit” by fixation. Is that not a grave error? Know that Xuanguan yique (the single aperture of the mysterious pass) and Xuanpin zhi men (the gate of the mysterious female—the pivot of nourishing and transforming, where spirit and Qi exit and enter) are merely ways immortals point to the root of Zaohua. The balance of substance and function is originally non-dual: just as one takes Qian and Kun to model Heaven and Earth, and Li and Kan to embody sun and moon—so it is here.

The Cantong Qi says: when chaos first commingles, the carriage is laid as foundation; one tends and nourishes the Yin’e (the seat of practice, such as Dantian (energy center) and the sea of Qi), and concentrates spirit to form the body. Then spirit and Qi have a place to rely on, and hun and po (soul and corporeal soul) do not scatter; huiguang fanzhao (turning the light inward to illumine the inner scene) returns to the original position—never straying in haste or hurry, always abiding here. The verse says: tend the Yin’e, recognize emptiness, and settle Yuanshen (original spirit) within; coming and going of breath without break—the sacred embryo perfected, one with the primordial beginning. The purport of Xuanpin is fully contained in this.

This passage introduces a long essay by Chen Xuba on the Mysterious Pass (xuanguan). The original runs to over fifteen hundred characters; only about half is excerpted here, but the central message is complete.

How the essay is structured

First, it lists many names for the Mysterious Pass, so readers know that the “gate” or “aperture” spoken of in practice has many labels—not just one fixed term.

Second, it explains that many places inside and outside the body are not the Mysterious Pass. From the crown to the weilü (tail region), the author goes through them one by one and says none of these is the true Mysterious Pass. The point is to break a common mistake: treating practice as clinging to the physical body and fixating on concrete spots (what the text calls an outer-path style of stubborn attachment). The real Mysterious Pass cannot be simply marked on an anatomical chart.

Third, it highlights “guizhong” (holding the center) and the character “middle (zhong)”. Saying it lies “below Qian and above Kun, east of Dui and west of Zhen” uses a “clouds parting to reveal the moon” style: the four directions frame the empty place in the middle. It also says: “It does not stand by form; it arises only by embodying the Dao”—it does not depend on a fixed shape to exist, but appears when one embodies the Great Dao. Since it does not depend on form, it is not in any corner of the body; the Dao is originally empty, and the Mysterious Pass, as embodiment of the Dao, is likewise on the side of emptiness, not a lump of “flesh aperture.”

Fourth, a closing poem tightens the meaning: “Cultivate the yin-e and e-go with body-as-emptiness”—work lands on emptiness, not on clinging to solid form. “Then let the primordial spirit dwell within”—the Yuanshen (primordial spirit) rests in emptiness, in harmony with breath (xi). “In-breath and out-breath without break”—spirit and breath mutually support; regulating breath and spirit until pure skill becomes natural. “The sacred embryo complete merges with primordial origin”—spirit and breath unite, the inner landscape matures, inner and outer are pure, one with emptiness—the stage of returning to the root and restoring life.

The long middle section uses images from the Cantong qi (Seal of the Unity of the Three) to speak of the Mysterious Pass; “no edge, no inside or outside” follows the line of the Four Hundred Words · Preface, still hinting at emptiness as the key move.

Fifth, the latter part of Chen Xuba’s original: regulating breath and “direct verification.” The gist: this aperture opens in yang’s ease and closes in yin’s severity; it has no fixed shape—intention arrives and it opens; opening and closing have their times; a hundred days lay the foundation, nurture the “mother of Qi,” the empty room fills with white, and one naturally sees it—and he cites the Yellow Emperor’s one-month inner contemplation as the Mysterious Pass at the stage of verification.

What came before mostly concerns the Mysterious Pass at the stage of faith—one needs a master’s pointing to find the threshold; the Mysterious Pass at the stage of verification must be seen for oneself, like knowing whether water is cold or warm—no need for another to point.

In one sentence: this excerpt says that the Mysterious Pass is not a fixed point on the body, but the path of embodying the Dao, emptiness, holding the center, and mutual support of spirit and breath—first clarifying direction at the stage of faith, then seeing it oneself at the stage of verification.

After Chen Xubai, those who were skilled in discussing the Xuan Guan (Mysterious Pass) generally held in highest regard four lineages: Bai Ziqing, Li Qing’an, Zhang Sanfeng, and Li Hanxu. In the Zhonghe Ji (Collection of Central Harmony), Li Qing’an distinguished separately the Xuan Guan of the Ming Zong (the approach that chiefly cultivates life through Jing, Qi, and Shen and the Neidan (internal alchemy) path) from the Xuan Guan of the Xing Zong (the approach that chiefly cultivates nature through mind, awakening, and realization).

The Xingli Ge (Song on Nature and Principle) says: “The Two Modes arise from the differentiation of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); the Qian way is firm, strong, and single-minded, the Kun way is yielding, receptive, and open-and-closed. The Xuan Pin Gate (the hub of creation and of the coming-and-going of spirit and Qi, as in the Daodejing: ‘The valley spirit does not die—this is called the mysterious female’) between Heaven and Earth: in movement it expands the more; in stillness it gathers the more.”

The Lianxu Ge (Song on Refining Emptiness) says: “Before any hexagram image exists, whence any hexagram? Qian and Kun are not simply ‘one above, one below.’ That one point, utmost empty yet utmost numinous, eight-sided and lucid without a crack—four sides sealed tight yet piercing through chaos—that is the central void, the Xuan Pin Gate. If you work emptiness within ‘non-emptiness,’ opening and closing naturally accord with Qian and Kun. When the Xuan Pin Gate opens, function reaches its limit: spirit goes out from here and enters here. Out and in, in and out, returning again to emptiness—on level ground, a spring thunderclap like Pi (a sudden breakthrough).”

The Baoyi Ge (Song on Embracing Unity) says: “The valley of emptiness is naturally penetrable; the Xuan Pin Gate naturally opens and closes. When the one Yang returns, wonder is inexhaustible; the four virtues turn, and the Qian way ceaselessly persists.”

The Daode Song (Eulogy on Virtue) also says: “Opening and closing accord with Qian and Kun—this is the Xuan Pin Gate. Since coming and going from within the void, it alone is honored in the three realms.”

Another poem says: “The valley spirit does not die—this is called Xuan Pin; this is the pivot of Qian-Kun opening and closing. Coming and going without end, never ceasing, it pushes and stirs without bound. The white-haired old master rides the dragon away; the blue-eyed foreigner returns astride a tiger. Ask what proof marks the completion of the work: the circuit of Heaven fills the earth, moonlight shining bright.”

It also says: “The mysterious gate and female portal are not hard to know—gather body and mind and seek inward. Grasp the principle of the Two Modes pushing and stirring, and you will know the moment when the one Qi comes and goes.”

Plain-Language Reading of Tianle Ji (Collection of Heavenly Joy)

First Section (Poem)

Heaven and earth close and open without ceasing; Li (fire) and Kan (water) rise and sink, joining and parting in turn. I speak plainly for Fu’an: establish the root of cultivation at the very point where thought is gathered back and returns to its proper place.

Again (same poem, repeated)

The constant Dao is not hard to find—it is in eating, dressing, walking, standing, sitting, and lying down right now. Feel how Heaven and Earth close and open, how the two wheels of sun and moon turn in their natural cycle. There is a pivot called “returning to the root,” and a gate called “restoring life.” Once you have broken through the two layers of “news” (the waxing and waning of yin and yang, the comings and goings of the vital mechanism), transcending the ordinary and becoming sage becomes as natural as everyday life.

“Song on the Original Dao”

For one who studies the profound, if they truly pass through the mysterious pass (xuanguan), pursuing the light and ascending to truth is not hard. The hard part is only that one point like a star’s glint or a tiny aperture—a barrier where the lost traveler often feels separated by ten thousand mountains.

“Living Method of Complete Perfection”

“Refining qi lies in tuning and harmonizing” means harmonizing the true breath and regulating true primordial vitality. Laozi said: the gate of the mysterious female is the root of Heaven and Earth; soft and continuous, as if present—use it without strain. The gist of tuning and harmonizing lies here.

People today take the mouth and nose as the gate of the mysterious female—that is wrong. The mysterious female refers to the mechanism by which Heaven and Earth close and open. Commentary on the Appended Phrases says: closing the door is Kun, opening the door is Qian; one close and one open is change; one close and one open is also one movement and one stillness—exactly what Laozi meant by “using it without weariness.”

Commentary (main idea of Qing’an’s poems)

Qing’an’s poems mainly lead one to experience: in the void outside the body, the mechanism of the breath’s closing and opening—right at this spot, let mind and breath rely on each other until spirit and breath fuse into one, and breathing no longer has outflow or inflow; then one may be honored among the three realms, nature is still and emotional thoughts are empty, transcending the ordinary and surpassing the sage.

The study of returning to the root and restoring true constancy (gui gen fu ming) turns on this very point. It is how the "Covenant of Life" school speaks of the Xuan Guan (Mysterious Pass), and it is the orthodox line of Xuanxue (Profound Learning).

Li Qing'an also said: "You need only, through the twenty-four hours of the day, in walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, apply effort and turn inward: in silence and speech, in seeing and hearing—what is it that stands behind them all? When body and mind are still and settled, and the square inch is clear and bright, the subtle wonder of the true mechanism will naturally appear. The Xici commentary on the Yijing says 'silent and unmoving'—that is the substance of the Xuan Guan; 'responsive and thus penetrating'—that is its function. If you take the Xuan Guan to be some visible, formed place on the body and then strive with bitter discipline, you will never succeed. I would point it out to you directly, but fear you would not trust it or could not use it—you must see it for yourself."

He also said: "The Xuan Guan is the most mysterious and subtle of passes. Scholars today mostly cling to the physical form: some say it is in the Dantian (energy center); some say the head has nine palaces and the Xuan Guan is among them; some point to the birth gate as the 'place where life arises'; some point to mouth and nose as the 'Mysterious Female' (Xuan Pin)—all are wrong. Once it is fixed on bodily form, it is not it; yet neither can you leave this body-and-mind and seek it elsewhere. Why do the various Neidan scriptures never spell out 'exactly where it is'? Because it cannot be put into brush and ink, and cannot be spoken—hence they only name it 'Xuan Guan.' So the sages show people with a single character: 'center' (zhong). In that one word, the meaning of Xuan Guan is already clear."

"What is meant by 'center' is not center as inside versus outside, nor center among the four directions above and below, nor 'center within center.' The Chan school asks: when you neither think of good nor of evil, just at this moment—what is your original face? That is Chan's 'center.' Confucianism says: before joy, anger, sorrow, and delight have been aroused, that is called 'center'—that is the Confucian 'center.' Daoism says: where no thought has yet arisen, that is called 'center'—that is the Daoist 'center.' The above are the respective 'centers' used by the three teachings."

The Book of Changes says: When the mind is inwardly still and unmoving, that is the substance of the “center”; when there is resonance and response and it turns and operates, that is the function of the “center.” Laozi says: Push emptiness and stillness to the limit, hold fast to steadfast stillness; all things grow together, and from among them I observe how they return. The Book of Changes also says: In the hexagram Fu (Return) one may see the heart of heaven and earth. Fu is one yang arising beneath five yin: yin symbolizes stillness, yang symbolizes movement. When stillness reaches its extreme and movement arises, it is precisely in that moment of movement that Xuan Guan (the mystic pass where qi and awakened awareness meet in internal alchemy) appears. You need only work at the place where thoughts and intentions arise, through the six periods (the twelve double-hours of day and night), and Xuan Guan will naturally manifest.

The above describes Xuan Guan from the angle of xing jue miao ming (wondrous clarity of awareness in one’s original nature)—the highest path of realizing the nature-vehicle and wordless wondrous awakening. Students should know: nature (xing) and life (ming) are originally two aspects of one reality. One who fully realizes the empty substance of nature finds the ten directions present as one’s whole body; to clarify nature is to have ming contained within—this is dunwu dunxiu (sudden awakening and sudden cultivation). If one begins with regulating breath and concentrating spirit, that is the gradual method. The Xuan Guan of the gradual method is spoken of from the angle of qi dynamics in subtle being; the Xuan Guan of the sudden method is spoken of from the angle of the substance of true emptiness. When I examine the original intent of the Daodejing, “The valley spirit never dies—it is called the mysterious female” also speaks from the substance of true emptiness.

Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng’s “Song of Sitting in Meditation” says: when you first learn sitting meditation and Chan contemplation, the crucial message lies in the xuanguan (Mysterious Pass). The breath must be regulated in a secret, continuous, fine stream; Yin and Yang are refined and transformed within the inner cauldron. The “Song of Essential Secrets of the Dao” says: observe the Mysterious Pass and regulate the true breath—understand these two matters and your practice has a firm footing. When the Original Spirit (yuanshen) enters the Qihai (Sea of Qi), spirit and Qi blend in silent depth, and you gain one xuan (mystery)—the true master. When primordial Qi enters the Huangting (Yellow Court), Qi and spirit unite in dim obscurity, and you gain another mystery—the most complete and luminous. One mystery is called “wonder” (miao), one is called “aperture” (qiao): when there is desire, observe the aperture; when there is no desire, observe the wonder. Both are mystery upon mystery—the true mechanism. Different names, one source—who can explain it fully? There is no other secret to observing the Mysterious Pass: begin by regulating the true breath within the aperture. When spirit is calm and Qi is still to the utmost, naturally the wonder arises from nothing and the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) appears. Ancient immortals mostly spoke only half, fearing to leak the true mechanism and daring not say all. Some say the fixed point is in the Middle Palace; some say there is no fixed point and each takes their own. Now I say it all: it lies between “having a fixed point” and “having no fixed point.” Having a fixed point is called the aperture; having no fixed point is called the wonder—what Lord Lao called mystery upon mystery. These two passages from the immortal already exhaust the subtlety of the Mysterious Pass and breath regulation. As for “this lies between fixed and unfixed,” that is language of perfect roundness—only an immortal could speak thus.

The move into emptiness has no direction from the start: eastward is emptiness, and westward is the same emptiness. With no direction, there is no single fixed place. Yet before each person’s face, outside the nostrils, in that small compass where the in-and-out breath stirs, each person has their own Mysterious Pass—this again is “having a fixed point.” Is that not mystery upon mystery?

In verse: fixed and unfixed—neither identical nor separate. Wonder and aperture observed together; emptiness and form both appear. Though without visible form, it is not annihilation. Seek it and it is not seen; call it and it responds. Look—no shape; listen—there is sound. The Tathāgatagarbha, the gate of all wonders.

A Plain-Language Reading of Passages Related to Tian Le Ji

In A Poem on Seeking the Xuan Guan Once, Zhang Sanfeng says that the “single aperture of the Xuan Guan (Mystery Pass)” is the most critical point in practice. It is neither simply in the heart nor merely in the kidneys, but somewhere deeper and more subtle. If you hunt blindly in places like the bladder or the perineal pathway, or rummage around the spleen, stomach, and Mud Pill (upper Dantian), you have gone off course. Spirit and Qi often hover in a dim, unsettled state; what you truly seek must be felt out in the layer of emptiness (xu wu)—this line already states the core secret plainly. The pivot was always in “spiritual clarity” (awareness and luminous knowing); only when you nourish this point is there any possibility of refining the returning elixir (Huandan) and transcending the bodily shell.

A Poem on Seeking the Xuan Guan Again adds: a puppet on stage nods and moves, but it is entirely someone backstage pulling the strings. The pulling depends on human effort—yet turn the question around: who is pulling me, and by whom am I pulled? In the end you must rely on that “master” being always present and clear; only then can you be at ease everywhere. If you wish to refine the elixir and to find the moment of “Winter Solstice” (the trigger of the return of one Yang, the point at which practice begins), you must seek it in the Lingtai—the mind quiet, free of stray thoughts.

A General Discourse in Verse on the Xuan Guan sums it up: the body itself is Heaven-and-Earth, the cosmic frame; there is no need to seek elsewhere. Within it is one “empty-and-spiritual” aperture, deepest and most hidden. The number-images of Kan and Li can be consulted together; among the Five Phases, Earth sits in the center to nurture transformation; where Xun wind rises (here meaning wind, and also the breath), softness and firmness, ascent and descent, are fixed. Once you recognize this wonder of “returning to the origin” (Huanyuan), you pass spring and autumn again within the “six-six palaces”—referring to the cycles of celestial fire-phases and years of cultivation.

According to the Immortal’s verse, one must first let go of attachment to the “form body” (the flesh and its appearances) and seek this Xuan Guan in the “cave of emptiness.” “Where Xun wind rises, softness and firmness are settled” points to where the empty-spiritual aperture lies; it is also the root where spirit and breath return to the source, and the key to turning back to the origin. After the body has “broken” (fallen from the Way into mere form), the original Yang within gradually disperses into empty space; therefore those who study the return must also pursue and gather in empty space, so that “things return to their true owner”—essence, breath, and spirit each to their proper place.

Master Feng therefore teaches people to “search carefully in the cave of emptiness.” He also compares the form body to a puppet: breath coming and going at the nostrils is like the strings that move the puppet; the empty space outside the body is like the master who holds the strings. The analogy is apt (note: Qing’an’s Zhonghe Ji has similar language; Master Feng inherits that meaning). People are often moved by the strings without noticing, precisely because the mechanism of breathing seems to lie in another’s hand; when the line is jerked taut, the puppet falls. Day and night people breathe yet can rarely govern it themselves—from youth to old age, few truly attend to this layer. Conversely, if one can grasp the mechanism of the Xuan Guan’s opening and closing—using spirit to guide Qi in the empty space outside the body, with heart and breath mutually dependent, transforming at the extreme so that spirit and breath are stabilized, neither exiting nor entering, neither going nor coming—then the “master” is in oneself, not in another, and the root of life-and-destiny (the stem of Xingming) can be firm. Hence Zhongli Quan said: “The gate that gives me life is the door of my death—how many wake up, how many understand? At night the iron man reflects for himself: freedom from death and lasting life is done by the person.” The gates of life and death are all within oneself; those who awaken are few, but whether one lives long or not depends in the end on what one does.

In his Xuanguan Jue (Verses on the Mysterious Pass), Bai Ziqing writes: “The Xuanguan (Mysterious Pass) is the barrier on the path of seeking the Dao and the pivot of its subtle mechanism. It has two aspects: ‘substance’ (ti) and ‘function’ (yong). What is substance? Stillness without movement. What is function? Responding when stimulated, then penetrating. Even within non-movement there are times when movement arises.

When spirit and qi first join, hazy and blended, undifferentiated—this is the first pass, the place where the ‘four greats’ and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) do not yet touch. At the moment spirit and qi meet, dim and silent, obscure and dark—this is the second pass, where there is neither sound nor scent, neither inside nor outside. When stillness reaches its limit and movement is born, and function appears—continuing in turbid flow, rising vigorously—as true qi lifts from within the ‘compass,’ this is the third pass: where thought first arises is the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin). When a thought has just stirred, as if drunk then waking, a single spiritual awareness is there, and in that instant one awakens—this is the fourth pass, ‘when the time comes, spirit knows.’ Then, with spiritual awareness as function, like a thread pulling a puppet, as soon as qi stirs it slightly presses past the Weilu (tail gate)—the fifth pass, when ‘turning the Big Dipper’s handle and moving the ladle’ is exactly now. Bathing at the Mao gate is another pass; flying up to the Mud Ball (Niwan) is another; returning to the root and restoring life, bathing at the You chamber, is another; great rest, great clarity, empty and forgotten, returning to utmost stillness—again a pass. Substance and function of the Xuanguan are like this; the core of a thousand scriptures and myriad treatises lies here.”

According to this account by Ziqing, cultivation in summary: take mutual reliance of heart and breath as the foundation, until stillness without movement and the state of great fixity (taiding); then from substance activate function—stillness at the limit gives birth to movement, the one yang returns, the time arrives and spirit knows, subtle function appears; promptly raise Xun wind and drive Kun fire, until the full heavenly circuit is complete and one returns to great samadhi (dading). Along the way many shifts in firing process (huohou) arise. Pass after pass, each layer of barrier must be seen through one by one, before one reaches the field of great rest. This is the course of the Xuanguan described as a path; from it one can also glimpse the general meaning of how firing and timing change.

This passage quotes Chen Nidan from the Ziqing school’s Discussion on Distinguishing Perplexities in Immortal Cultivation (Xiuxian Bianhuo Lun); Hanxu Zhenren further develops the same idea in Discussion on the Openings of the Dao (Daoqiao Tan), describing one approach to beginning Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

Chen Nidan said: If one can concentrate the spirit and settle in stillness, with no stray thoughts in the mind, and carry the work to purity so that heart and breath, spirit and Qi (vital energy), merge into one; and if one applies oneself quietly all day long, guarding single-mindedly like a hen brooding on eggs, then spirit returns and Qi is restored, and one naturally sees the “Mysterious Pass, the One Opening” (xuanguan yī qiào)—said to be as vast as the boundless without, as fine as the boundless within. At that point one may gather the innate primordial Qi as the root of the Golden Elixir. With diligent practice without slackening, before long one’s attainment can stand alongside the line transmitted through Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin. Hanxu held that this account fits well the principle that “when spirit and Qi interact, the Mysterious Pass appears”; in sum, taking the wondrous union of heart and breath, merging into one, as the practical guide for real cultivation.

Brief note: In Neidan, “Mysterious Pass, the One Opening” names the pivotal inner locus where spirit and Qi meet and the prenatal force stirs; schools differ in detail, but it usually refers to an inner hub that appears through stillness and breath regulation. “Zhong-Lü” denotes the Neidan tradition associated with Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin.

In On the Mysterious Pass, the Single Aperture (Dao Qiao Tan · Lun Xuan Guan Yi Qiao), Hanxu Zhenren writes:

The Mysterious Pass, the single aperture (Xuan Guan Yi Qiao) appears from emptiness (xuwu); it is not located in the five viscera, six bowels, or any part of the physical body in the four limbs and hundred joints. Taken as names: xuan means subtle mystery, guan means pivot or gate—together, the Mysterious Pass; yi qiao is the one place to which all methods return, unique and without counterpart, hence “single aperture.” In one phrase: it is the character “middle” (zhong).

This “middle” is both between above and below and not between above and below—because one must distinguish the dead from the alive. What is dead? Treating Huangting (Yellow Court), the Qi acupoint (where Qi gathers), or Dantian (often the lower Dantian or “Sea of Qi” in practice) as this “middle” fixes it to a dead, static spot. What is alive? Through concentrating spirit and gathering Qi (ningshen juqi), this “middle” appears in cultivation—that is alive. In the dead sense one speaks of Huangting, Qi acupoint, Dantian; in the alive sense one speaks of the true Mysterious Pass, the single aperture. Hence “it is born from emptiness”; once the true mechanism shows itself, those who receive it should keep it secret.

Explanation aligned with the text (main sense of the Tianle Ji commentary):

Hanxu Patriarch’s passage is blunt at the start: since it is said to be “born from emptiness,” you already know it is not inside the colored, formed body. He also stresses that it “does not dwell in the five viscera, six bowels, or the hundred vessels of the four limbs”—yet learners still hunt inside the body, which is laughable. “The place where ten thousand methods return to one” means settling on that move in void (xukong)—an empty aspect like the circle “○” (symbolizing vacant, unfixed spirit). “Unique, without counterpart” means void is not part of Yin–Yang pairing; it is absolute, not relative. “Concentrate spirit and gather Qi, and this middle appears” means heart-mind and breath merge in void.

Brief contrast (for readers):

In Xuan Guan Zaishuo (Further Words on the Mysterious Pass), Master Hanxu says: Xuan Guan (the Mysterious Pass) is that speck of numinous light that appears when Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) unite in “conjunction.” When you first glimpse the Mysterious Pass, the light flickers—bright then dim—with no fixed place; when you first enter it, you are dazed and vague, as if there were nothing to hold on to. That is because Shen and Qi have only just joined and are not yet stable. Only when embrace is pure and mature and the “dead mind” never leaves do you recognize this: within the Mysterious Pass, self and other are forgotten, spirits and ghosts cannot fathom it—muddled, dim, still yet surging. The subtle changes within are endlessly varied and hard to name, which is why it has so many names; each person sees differently and names it from that seeing, each use giving it another title. Ancient immortal masters kept it secret and would only speak it mouth-to-mouth after mo ding shou jie—transmission with palm on the crown and receipt of precepts. Even when they did teach, they might say no more than: neither heart nor kidney. Hanxu holds that it is not what people usually call Huangting, the Qi acupoint, or Dantian (energy center). Here another layer is pointed out; those who understand should keep it close.

Zhongzi Zhizhi (Direct Pointing at “Center”) also says: What is “center”? It is the Mysterious Pass. In the Cantong Qi, “moving without losing the center, drifting yet keeping to the rule of center”—both refer to this. So-called central realm runs from nourishing the self and gathering spirit, through entering the chamber and returning the elixir, all the way to shedding the body and spirit transformation—nothing lies outside it. Therefore beginners must first recognize this “center” before there is any path upward. Long ago, Wen Shi Tianzun asked the Supreme Lord: in self-cultivation, what matters most—which chapter? The Supreme Lord answered: in shen gen gu di, shou zhong bao yi—deep roots, firm base; hold the center, embrace the One. The Cantong Qi also says: “When the upper closes, it is called ‘being’; when the lower closes, it is called ‘non-being.’” Hanxu takes the words “upper” and “lower” as both hidden inside the character for “center”—Yin and Yang move within it, Kan and Li rise and fall between, upper and lower unite and return to the center. Thus upper closed and lower closed wrap the subtle tight: in the midst of the Great Void, primordial Qi alone circulates, hence it is called “non-being”—this too is the aim of contemplating the subtle (guan miao); lower closed and upper closed, what is hidden is not yet seen, yet in the dim unknown there is essence and within it faith, hence it is called “being”—this too is the aim of contemplating the aperture (guan qiao). Upper close and lower close both belong within Xuanpin (the Mysterious Feminine); without desire and with desire both dwell in the space between the subtle and the profound. So this aperture of the Mysterious Pass has been called the wondrous aperture of being and non-being, the upper and lower cauldrons, the Yin-Yang tripod, the Shen–Qi acupoint—all from this, yet all gathered into one “center.”

All of the above reveals how heart and breath unite in emptiness, the three merge and return to one, and the wondrous function of the Mysterious Pass appears. The substance of the Mysterious Pass is emptiness; emptiness is not empty nothingness—one Qi flows within it. When heart and breath depend on each other and wondrously join in this center, substance and function are complete and the path of return opens. Substance lies in the pre-heaven; function in the post-heaven; when substance and function are one, Heaven and human activate together, turning back against the stream—on the Yellow Path (central course) to gather the two Qi—what difficulty remains?

The preceding sections have briefly traced the lineage and sources of Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation and the path of “returning” (fanhuan)—the reversal that restores what was dispersed—and have given a general account of how these fit together.

The substance (ti) of the Dao lies in what is pre-heaven (xiantian); its functioning (yong) appears in what is post-heaven (houtian). When substance and function unite as one, heaven and the human person can arise together and inner and outer can respond to each other; by moving against the ordinary flow and gathering the two Qi back into the Yellow Way (huangdao)—the central path of inner cultivation—what could be difficult about that?

What has been said above only roughly opens up lineage, sources, and the difference between substance and function, so that students reading alchemical classics can grasp the gist of what is being discussed. Some texts speak from the “stage of faith” (xinwei)—initial trust and practice according to teaching; others from the “stage of verification” (zhengwei)—direct realization and confirmation of the Way. Some speak mainly from the life school (mingzong), which stresses Jing (essence), Qi, and firing times; others from the nature school (xingzong), which stresses mind-nature and awakening. As the saying goes, the benevolent see benevolence and the wise see wisdom—one fixed formula can hardly cover everything.

As for the poems on the “Mysterious Pass” (xuanguan) composed by patriarchs through the ages, they are beyond counting in their beauty. A few dozen are gathered here to broaden acquaintance and display the wonder of the Way; each is accompanied by the author’s own reading, unfolding the writer’s intent so that the meaning of the Mysterious Pass becomes still clearer.

Zhongli Quan said: “In the Daoist tradition, the methods are said to number three thousand six hundred kinds, and each one clings to its own gate. Who would have thought that the true, subtle Mysterious Pass is not found among those three thousand six hundred methods?” The Pure Yang Patriarch (Lü Dongbin) also said: “Xuanpin, Xuanpin—the true Xuanpin is neither in the heart nor in the kidney. One must seek it in the very first instant when a person receives vital energy and life begins; do not blame others for having exhausted the secrets of heaven.”

According to Patriarch Zhong, heterodox paths mostly work on the physical body and sexual essence; only this mysterious orifice does not belong to bodily form, yet cannot be wholly separated from bodily form—neither clinging to this body nor abandoning it. It is where post-heaven and pre-heaven meet and where heaven and human arise together—something outer paths rarely grasp. The two characters “xiēzi” (a tiny bit) are wonderfully apt: here they point to emptiness, what is called “so vast there is nothing outside it, so small there is nothing inside it.”

One of Patriarch Lü’s gāthās is meant to help people realize the state before birth, at the first moment of receiving qi, when originally there was not a single thing. The Cantong qi says: “When you think carefully about the end, you must also think about the beginning; the bodily shell that humans inherit is in essence originally one void.” So Patriarch Lü also has a poem: “The Great Dao originally dwells before the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji); it originally exists before my parents gave me birth.” He also said: “Few people understand the truth of my Great Dao; the true Dao must be sought before one is born.” These statements confirm one another.

Zhang Jinghe said: “The orifice of primordial chaos (Hunyuan) is in the pre-heaven realm; inwardly it is empty, and its principle operates naturally. If one can recognize it before birth, knowing this clearly, one is sure to become a Daluo immortal.” This eulogy is the finest—it directly teaches one to grasp what “before birth” looks like. My late master’s Three Teachings in One says: “Every step in learning the Dao cannot depart from ‘before birth’; depart from ‘before birth’ and you will not obtain pre-heaven true yang.” He also said: “One must seek it before birth—that alone is pre-heaven, that alone is dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu). This is the first and most crucial step at the gate.” In sum, do not depart from the move of emptiness outside the body; only when you work outside the body does the gate of Xuanpin open and the essential point of dual cultivation be grasped.

Liu Chuxuan said: The human body has an opening—the void Mysterious Female Gate (xuanpin men, the subtle portal through which heaven-and-earth and essential qi enter and leave in Daoist thought). Adjusting the “fire phases” and holding the rhythm must be like a steady, moderate warmth—neither overheated nor cold. In the Immortal’s cauldron there is no other drug; various mineral impurities are simply refined away until at last there is hundred-times-refined gold. This is an alchemical metaphor: work in that void place, and wandering thoughts melt away—then true essence appears.

Zhao Yuandu said: In the void there is an aperture, right at the center. There nothing is born and nothing perishes; original nature is inexhaustible. It is bright and alert, yet it is not the “appearance” of ordinary talk; it is dim and obscure, yet it is not the dead emptiness people call “nothing.”

Ge Xianweng (Ge Hong) said: Where Heaven and Earth (qiankun) meet is “the center.” That center lies in the void and is boundlessly open. Gather Dragon and Tiger (Kan and Li, yin and yang) and store them in this single aperture, and the hinge of creation and transformation comes under your hand.

Luo Gongyuan said: One aperture in the void between heaven and earth—secret, winding, admitting no draft; hazy and indistinct, without shape or color—yet the True Person (zhenren) appears within a precious pearl.

Sima Ziwei said: The void’s single aperture is named Mysterious Pass (xuanguan), situated in this small heaven-and-earth of the human body. It can be “divided” into eighty-four thousand (a figure for the innumerable) above and below, and also cycles through line positions such as “nine at the third” and “six at the fifth.” In the large it can embrace the Dharma-realm, merged and leaving no trace; in the small it can enter motes of dust without its form being seen. This spot is called the Ancestral Qi Cave (zuqi xue)—like one Millet-Grain Pearl (a image for a speck of pre-heaven essence) suspended right in its midst.

The poems above all take “void” directly as Mysterious Pass (the pivotal locus for inner alchemy’s entry to the Way), and the sense is plain. Sima Ziwei’s two lines—“embracing the Dharma-realm in the large, entering dust in the small”—especially lay “void” bare.

Tianlaizi said: The Mysterious Female Gate stays open all day; the central aperture and the Spirit Platform (lingtai, where mind-spirit dwells) blend into one—no hinge, no lock… (the source text breaks off here)

Plain-Language Explanations of Passages Related to Tianle ji

Tianlaizi said: The gate of the Mysterious Female (Xuanpin—the portal Daoists describe as the root of Heaven and Earth and mother of the ten thousand things) seems open all day; the single aperture in its midst merges with the Spirit Platform (where the mind-spirit dwells). There is neither lock nor guard, yet sun and moon appear to move naturally between east and west—an image of Yin-Yang and spirit-Qi turning within the body of their own accord, without seeking outside.

Chaoyuanzi said: Mount Zhong (here, the “middle” of the person) rises steep; sun and moon shine together; the branches of Qian and Kun all fall upon the Spirit Stream (the waterway along the Conception vessel and Dantian). Tortoise and serpent go and return; clouds split in two; wind and rain pour like water in a single field—depicting the union of Kan and Li and the completion of fire and water. Lord and minister in the furnace are called Zi and Wu; husband and wife in the cauldron are named East and West: Zi-Wu and East-West mark the timing of the fire phases and the pairing of Yin and Yang. If within this there is medicine that prolongs years, why do body and mind still cling to delusion and fail to awaken?

Zhang Hongmeng said: The root of Heaven and Earth begins at the Mysterious Female; calling the sun and breathing the moon is the “handle” of steadfast practice. Hidden and manifest are both empty, yet the empty is not empty; seek it and you do not see it, call it and it responds—speaking of a true aperture within emptiness that is felt when the mind attends.

Wang Chuyi said: The Valley Spirit (Gu Shen—the root that is empty yet ever-generating) from here establishes the root of Heaven; supreme sages call it the gate of the Mysterious Female. To pierce the worldly person’s acupoint of life and death, the true immortal here settles Qian and Kun—the pivot of birth and death and the hinge of cultivation both lie in this aperture.

Ding Yehe said: The three teachings return to the One Origin; this circle (the one body of complete awakening and fulfillment) is born in Wuwei (non-action) and before the Image of the Emperor. When one awakens to the true subtlety here, one knows the ancestral root of the great Dao lies here.

Ma Danyang said: Laozi spoke of the Golden Elixir; the Buddhist teaching speaks of the bright pearl—round, bright, neither lacking nor surplus. The gate of death and the gate of life both take this aperture as their source; this aperture can yet receive the Great Void—emptiness and the spring of life issue from the same gate.

Liu Haichan said: Hangu Pass (a metaphor for the body’s inner barrier) lies in the midst of Heaven and Earth; sun and moon come and go from west and east. Try to peer into the Mysterious aperture with a narrow tube, and you see the tiger crouching and the dragon coiled, with a bold, vigorous atmosphere—within the inner landscape, fierce beasts and spirit animals symbolize the gathering of essence and Qi.

Xiao Liaozhen said: Laozi clearly opened the gate of manifold mystery; one closing and one opening respond to Qian and Kun. In the place of formlessness without image, there is a root of long life that does not die. He also said: Split open the Mysterious Female and expose the double pass; refining effort must not be treated lightly. Students who wish to know where the thread truly lies must “face south while looking at the Northern Dipper”—an inverted compass image to show one must not fix on the aperture by ordinary directions. He also said: In the little gourd there is another Heaven; the iron ox plows the field and plants the golden lotus; such a scene every household originally has—why do people not learn immortality? He also said: Though the gourd is small, above and below the symbols of Qian and Kun are the same; if one knows the season of the cycle and can apply it, the golden crow (sun) and jade rabbit (moon) of themselves move west and east—the sun and moon’s course stands for the circulation of the fire phases.

These masters’ poems and hymns often use Mysterious Female, Valley Spirit, cauldron and furnace, Zi-Wu and East-West, sun and moon, tortoise and serpent to say that in internal alchemy (Neidan) the essentials are observing the aperture in stillness, the union of fire and water, and recognizing the root of generation and destruction—not seeking physical objects outside, but finding in body and mind that point of root where there is “form without form, thing without thing.”

He Shanggong said: In dark, boundless obscurity, myriad subtle principles are opened; in trance-like vagueness, the true aperture is sustained. When gathered and held in, true Qi (vital energy) hides within a single “grain”; when released and let go, it spreads beyond the four quarters of heaven and earth.

Gao Xianxian said: Where does one begin to speak of the way of the True One? Better first to knock at the gate of Wu and Ji. Within the Wu–Ji gate is true water; true water is the root of huangya (the “yellow sprout”).

Liu Haichan said: Bottomless—that is the bellows; with an opening—that is the key. That one aperture in the middle—no one can easily locate it with certainty.

Shi Xinglin said: One aperture is the cavity of xuanguan (the Mysterious Pass); the three passes are gates on the vital path. When it is suddenly stirred ever so lightly, divine water flows of itself. (Another version: One aperture, the xuanguan cavity; three passes, gates on the vital path; suddenly stirred with a light motion, divine water flows naturally.)

Xue Daoguang said: Xuan is truly mysterious; pin is truly receptive. Xuan and pin together return to one cavity—not at mouth and nose, and not in the two loci of heart and kidneys.

Lü Zhenren said: At the zi and wu hours, often gather the essence of sun and moon; the gate of xuanguan opens and closes in turn. Guard this secret through life, and hold yin and yang to refine them with care.

Lu Xixing said: Do not treat xuan and pin as ordinary doctrine to bandy about; you must recognize the gate of life and the door of death. If you grasp “stealing the mechanism” and reversing the cycle, you suddenly leap beyond birth and death, and the Dao can endure.

Yin Zhenren said: Empty void without limit—that is the mysterious aperture. To know yet not to guard—that is where the real work lies.

Since the Tang and Song dynasties, countless works on the subtle meaning of the Xuan Guan (Mysterious Pass) in various elixir scriptures have appeared, yet I have never seen one that clearly distinguishes the inner and outer Xuan Guan at the same time. If the “medicines” and the “furnace and cauldron” have inner and outer aspects, the Xuan Guan must likewise be divided into inner and outer—this much is obvious. Below, not fearing to speak plainly, I will clarify one layer further for everyone.

The outer Xuan Guan: when heart-mind and breath depend on each other and merge as one in the empty space outside the physical form, that is the outer Xuan Guan. Within it lies “Wu Tu” (earth of the ninth return), the root of the “nine returns.” “Outer” means outside the colored body (the physical form). When one achieves heart-and-breath mutual reliance in that outer realm until stillness and fixation deepen, and fixation lasts long enough that clarity and silence prevail, the same “○” image will also appear within the physical body. That inner empty clarity, with not a single thought arising and not a trace of intention stirring—that “unmoving” state is the inner Xuan Guan.

When the inner Xuan Guan appears, the Four Images naturally unite, Kan and Li naturally intercourse, water and fire naturally achieve mutual containment (jiji), the Five Phases naturally gather, and the work of the “seven returns” is naturally accomplished. Within this lies “Ji Tu” (earth of the seventh return). When inner and outer merge in darkness and Wu Tu and Ji Tu earths blend, that is the wondrous realm the ancients called “mouth to mouth, aperture to aperture”—beyond words and writing, grasped only in the heart.

When the outer Xuan Guan appears, the whole body naturally becomes soft, pleasant, and blissful; one is vague and dim, deep and obscure, and pre-heaven primordial Qi comes of itself, the “medicines” arise of themselves, and the subtle effect of the “nine returns” follows. Thus outer return and inner reversion deepen: true Qi grows fuller, the original spirit (Yuanshen) grows brighter; true yin and true yang combine, extracting Kan to fill Li. When the Li palace is full, the Yang Pass also closes, and the physical form reverts to a childlike state.

Furnace and cauldron are the vessels that hold the “medicine.” The “inner and outer” spoken of here refer to the distinction between internal medicine and external medicine. The furnace means empty space, and the cauldron is also empty space—only emptiness can receive and contain. Thus the secret of furnace and cauldron lies in emptiness.

Neidan scriptures often speak of the Slanted Moon Furnace, the Cinnabar Cauldron, or Qian cauldron and Kun furnace, golden cauldron and jade furnace, as well as the Mighty Radiance Cauldron, the Suspended Womb Cauldron, and many other names. Few have ever explained the inner and outer sets of furnace and cauldron clearly. Without avoiding repetition, the point is this: the outer furnace and cauldron are when mind and breath unite to reach a certain realm (the text marks this with “○”), from which external medicine arises and the work of the Nine Returns is completed.

The inner furnace and cauldron require practice until great samadhi (deep absorption)—within the physical body there is also “vacuum ○,” and one obtains the inner pass; only then are the inner furnace and cauldron truly established. Therefore the inner furnace and cauldron belong to the side of the Seven Returns; the furnace and cauldron used in the union of Kan and Li and the mating of dragon and tiger belong to the nature side of the teaching—natural, without contrivance or forced action. Perfected Person of Purple Yang (Zhang Boduan) said: “Within is the natural true fire; in the furnace it blazes bright and red.”

The outer furnace and cauldron belong to life-practice—the natural way with deliberate effort. Purple Yang said: “On the outer furnace, increase and decrease require diligent work.” The outer furnace must “join heaven and human in simultaneous issuing”; then the inner furnace will naturally “set the foundation for ten thousand transformations.” It is like “a lodestone drawing iron—obstacles cannot block the hidden connection.”

In sum, the crux of practice is great samadhi: inner and outer both purified, inner and outer both empty. When one truly reaches great samadhi and true vacuum, Wu and Ji, the two earths, unite of themselves, and inner and outer furnace and cauldron are complete—Seven Returns within, Nine Returns without; from vacuum the subtle existence appears, and subtle existence merges with vacuum; emptiness and form interpenetrate, realm and wisdom viewed together, self and things without gap, self and other not two, host and guest mutually entering. That is to take the Dharmadhatu as furnace, the six great elements as medicine, to apply the true fire of empty nature, refine innumerable grains of ignorance, turn ordinary substance into a spiritual body, transcend the conditioned to reach the unconditioned, leave the five skandhas and transform the five turbidities—this is the great mechanism and great function of the profound teaching.

Inner and Outer Methods and Resources

Fa (method) is the rules and path cultivation relies on; cai (resources) are the material means that sustain daily life. In the Xuanzong (the internal-alchemy line of Daoism), ren yuan (human-origin) practice boils down to xin xi miao he—bringing heart and breath into subtle union so one returns to xiang di zhi xian (the root state before the forms of things arise); through tian ren he fa (Heaven and human firing together), wan hua ding ji (the myriad transformations find their foundation)—what is commonly called dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu). Three things matter most: luding (the “furnace and cauldron,” the body-mind as vessel), yaowu (the “medicine” used in inner refinement), and huohou (timing and intensity in breath and intent). One must first grasp xian hou er tian (the two “days”—pre-heaven and post-heaven qi and their laws), and the two kinds of xiaoxi (signs)—within the body and outside it—before entering the door to the great work of qi fan jiu huan (seven returns and nine reversions: repeated inner refinement and return to the source). This is called nei fa (inner method).

Besides that, household affairs must be settled, one should stay clear of distracting duties, keep leisure and self-restraint, and leave nothing hanging on the mind. The environment should be pure; lodging comfortable; social dealings kept from disturbing practice. Then the tianjun (the sovereign in the heart—right mindfulness) can be at ease and the thought of Dao stays pure. Dwellings should be quiet, with little noise from fowl, dogs, or traffic. Three meals should be mostly vegetarian—light, well cooked, and warm—and tobacco and alcohol avoided. During practice, watch body temperature: do not sit in direct wind or indulge in cold. In cold weather a light cover is fine so the pores do not open wide and invite cold or flu. Those who work hard at practice do well with many small meals and should avoid strongly stimulating foods. Move slowly; guard against anger and lust. If yang kang (yang overbearing—surging yang, heart fire rising) occurs, sleeping one or two nights under a woman’s quilt often clears it. These matters of clothing, food, shelter, and conduct cannot be neglected—this is wai fa (outer method), which supports practice and raises efficiency; danshu (inner alchemy and elixir classics) rarely spell this out—it is mostly passed shi kouchuan (from master’s mouth).

Internal and External Wealth

Internal wealth refers to the pre-heaven single Qi (yuanqi). External wealth means worldly money used to support what cultivation requires, also called “sustenance for the Way” (daoliang). Building the elixir chamber, acquiring property, and daily expenses all must be planned in advance. When both kinds of “dharma wealth” (facai)—internal and external—are in place, practice can proceed without hindrance.

Twenty-eight: Internal and External Partner and Place

“Partner” (lu) means a trusted fellow cultivator. Ordinarily one may practice alone; during the days of passing the great heavenly circuit (da zhoutian), two or three partners are indispensable for watching and reminding—a responsibility of the utmost weight. In the inner-dharma sense, “partner” is heart and breath, stillness and illumination, concentration (ding) and wisdom (hui); when body and mind are settled and one abides in the state of concentration, taking empty space as the ritual ground and roaming within it—this is “inner sitting place” (nei zuodi). The elixir chamber is the “outer sitting place” (wai zuodi).

Twenty-nine: Essentials of the Western School

Master Hanxu first met Patriarch Sanfeng, then Patriarch Chunyang, and gathered the heart-transmissions of the Wen Shi and Donghua lineages. After attaining the Way he founded the Great Jiangxi Western School (Daxiang Jiangxi pai). From Patriarch Hanxu the transmission passed to Master Wu Tianzhi, then to Master Wang—a span of only fifty or sixty years. I studied under Master Wang for four years; the Master repeatedly transmitted to me, and I learned that the thread of the Western School’s succession lies in great concentration and true emptiness (da ding zhen kong). The rest—returning the elixir, subtlety of fire phases (huohou), and the like—are all extensions of great concentration and true emptiness.

After Patriarch Lü received the secret transmission from Patriarch Zhong, he built a hut on Zhongnan Mountain to cultivate; that method also takes “great concentration and true emptiness” as its core; returning, fire phases, and so on all proceed from this.

Patriarch Lü’s Cultivation After Receiving Secret Transmission from Patriarch Zhong

After receiving secret transmission from Patriarch Zhong (Zhongli Quan), Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) built a hut on Zhongnan Mountain and cultivated there. Self-interest still lingered in his mind, and he failed three times in refining the elixir. Patriarch Zhong said: “The human mind is not yet fully extinguished, and the firing process is not strict enough—that is why it fails. The heart must sink again into deep stillness and enter taiding (extreme stability and union with the Dao) before success is possible.”

Patriarch Lü asked again: “Soul and spirit are obscure and hard to fathom; the ultimate principle is very deep—how can body and spirit be preserved?” Patriarch Zhong answered: “Wisdom arises from the obscure; in taiding, spirit-consciousness is at peace. Only when spirit and qi merge as one can one align with the true Dao. A body like gold in form and jade in substance depends on utmost sincerity; only when the great elixir is complete can the body rise lightly and ascend.”

Patriarch Zhong added: “The ten thousand things are diverse, yet each returns to its root; flowers open and leaves scatter, each harming its original purity. Born at dawn, dead by dusk—who can escape this? I should turn inward: I too am one among the ten thousand things.” Thus one who traces the root, gathers luminous spirit, and returns from being to non-being, back to true emptiness, must first remove the “Ten Stains.”

The Ten Stains

“Stain” (xin) means habits and temptations that pollute true emptiness and turn one away from original nature:

1. Ornate rhetoric: dazzling people with flowery language

2. Resonant clamor: misleading people with loud display

3. Rich fare: feeding desire with fat, sweet, heavy food

4. Fragrant scents: overwhelming with perfume

5. Likes and dislikes: stirring people with judgment of right and wrong

6. Jealousy and flattery: ingrained habits of envy and sycophancy

7. Gold and jade: enslaving the mind with precious metals and gems

8. Rank and salary: pleasing the heart with office and stipend

9. Clever speech: artful words and pleasing colors

10. Scheming: plots and crafty stratagems

Until these ten pollutions are thoroughly cleared, one goes against original nature and loses the Great Dao.

Patriarch Lü said: “The wondrous treasure is not refined by chance; only when true emptiness is fully realized does one begin to transcend.”—This is the gist of dading (great stillness) and true emptiness.

Supplement by Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng

Patriarch Zhang Sanfeng said: Going further, there is the golden liquid returning elixir, emotions returning to nature, until the realm of true emptiness, when great function appears before one—as in the dragon girl offering the pearl, golden light manifesting—only at that stage is it “gained once, held forever” (one realization, never broken).

Brief notes

• Taiding* / *dading: The mind abides in one place, unmoved and unconfused—the foundation of internal alchemy firing.
• True emptiness: Not annihilation, but when emotional consciousness and clinging to self are exhausted, original nature appears.
• Golden liquid returning elixir: A high-level metaphor in neidan (internal alchemy) for jing, qi, and shen returning to the original source.
• Emotions returning to nature: Desires and discriminating mind revert to original nature, linked with “true emptiness.”