《女子丹经汇编》Vol. 6

The Qi must be sent back to the area beside the right breast, repeated twenty-four times. For this reason, one must first complete enough rounds of gathering and raising the true Qi: when one full cycle has been done six times, the total is one hundred forty-four repetitions. After that, still follow what was described earlier—holding and counting the breath—then clasp both breasts firmly with both hands and sit in silent meditation for a while. Within one day’s twelve double-hours (twenty-four hours), the day’s required work is then complete, in line with the degrees of Zhou Tian (circulation) fire phases. Persist daily in this method. By around the second day of the following month, one may perform “cutting the waist”; by around the first day of the third month, “cutting the head”; by the fourth month, the Red Dragon (menstruation and the flow of yin blood) must be fully controlled. After that, one must no longer perform the earlier routine of gathering, raising, and breath-holding. Instead, clasp both breasts with both hands, hold the breath, and sit in stillness. Each day forget emotions and wash away idle thoughts, letting no worldly concerns cling to the mind; increase the effort day by day without slackening, and Yujiang (primordial fluid) will naturally arise.

Yujiang emerges from between Xuanpin (the mysterious female—the yin aperture, a key point on the Ren vessel), driven through by yang Qi. From Weilü it ascends along the spine, passes Jiaji, goes through Yuzhen, and rises straight to Niwan (the crown). The order of passes and orifices is broadly the same as in male cultivation. After the pass is opened and the fluid obtained, Jiaogou (the descending phase—the image of water and fire joining) descends to Huangting (the central palace) and irrigates the five viscera. This stage must not be interrupted; only by continuing to refine diligently can the Infant (the embryo of the inner elixir) be achieved. Every step of harmonizing and nurturing warmth must be examined closely; its stages can be compared with male practice. Women must master this method fully. The oral instructions are divulged only to women of utmost sincerity and integrity, and to virtuous, worthy wives—it is extremely secret. If passed to lewd, deceitful, or hypocritical people, one will surely face heaven’s punishment and condemnation.

In female Neidan, “cutting the waist,” “cutting the head,” and “cutting the Red Dragon” are metaphorical stages for using intent to control blood, stop menstruation, and refine the Red Dragon; the calendar in the original fixes approximate dates by month and day. Practice touches both body and mind; the present text is offered for literary and historical reading only—not as something to follow unsupervised.

The supreme vehicle of the Way and the Golden Immortal of innate great awakening are said to have been transmitted in an oral lineage from the Queen Mother of the West to the Old Woman of Mount Li, from her to Daoist nun Cui, from Cui to Li, from Li to Chen, from Chen to Yang Saihua, from Yang to the Yellow Flower Nun; the Yellow Flower Nun then transmitted separately to Miss [Xiao]jie and Magu, Magu to Wang Jinlian, and Wang Jinlian to Yang the Daoist nun—all of this passed ear to ear and was never put in writing.

Dazhi asked: Are there examples of male immortals transmitting the dharma to female immortals? Qiaoqiao replied: “On the path of the Great Vehicle, men and women follow the same principle; once one obtains the true secret, a man may transmit to a woman, and a woman may transmit to a man.” For instance, Patriarch Lü Chunyang personally transmitted to Immortal He Xiangu and also to Zhang Zhennu; Patriarch Wang Chongyang personally transmitted to Sun Buer, the Primordial Lady—this is male transmitting to female. There is also female transmitting to male: Sun Buer founded the Qingjing (Pure Stillness) lineage, which to this day has guided countless later disciples—an instance of female transmitting to male.

Someone else asked Zhao Dawa: “Are there people who attained the Great Dao through their own awakening, without relying on a teacher?” He answered: “Yes. Take the former Wei Yuansun, named Huacun, style Xian’an, a native of Bianliang. Her father Wei Shu, style Yuanyang, served under Emperor Cheng of Jin as Left Vice Director of the Imperial Secretariat, later rose to Grand Minister, was enfeoffed as Baron of Juyang County with the title of State Founder, and after death was posthumously titled Wenkang; her mother was Lady Deqing. Yuansun was born on the fifteenth day of the second month in the eighteenth year of Jian’an under Emperor Xian of Han. Naturally bright, she read the books of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi from childhood, loved the arts of immortals, and set her heart on cultivating truth and cherishing the Dao. She often wished for quiet solitude, but her parents repeatedly held her back.

At twenty-four she was forced to marry Liu Yi, Attendant-in-Ordinary to the Grand Tutor, and bore two sons; Liu Yi died young. The elder son Liu Xia later served as Administrator of Ancheng; the second son Liu Pu served as Attendant Director. After that Yuansun again shed worldly ties and devoted herself to cultivation. On the night of the sixteenth day of the twelfth month in the first year of Taikang, year wushen, under Emperor Wu of Jin, Sima Yan, the Dao Lord cast down to her a thousand scrolls of immortal rank; this book, together with oral formulas, was also transmitted to the Perfected of the Western Regions, then to the three daughters of the Qi family, then to Lady Lingzhao—all practiced this path. After Yuansun completed the Dao she circulated the Jade Sword and Golden Writ in the world, ascended to the rank of Purple Void Yuansun, and oversaw the Upper Perfected Office of Destiny for the Southern Marchmount, her constellation dwelling between the Ox and the Dipper. On the fifteenth day of the ninth month in the ninth year of Cheng-Xuan of Jin she soared in flight; the jade edicts that descended also left behind one Exhortation to the World for transmission.

One: Song of Refining the Form of the Greater Yin

For a woman studying immortality, the crux lies in the space between the palms: the two extraordinary meridian points connect with the Niwan (mud pill, the cinnabar field within the crown). Regularly align breathing with the monthly tide, return spirit to the Celestial Valley (within the crown), and circulation completes itself.

First refine the true fire through the two breasts, shift it into the Dantian (energy center), and transform it into the foundation of lead and mercury.

Part One

For women seeking immortality, the crucial work lies in the palms and fingers: the so-called “two acu-points of the Mysterious Gate” connect with the Mud Pill Palace (niwan gong)—where spirit gathers in the head. Align breath with the phases of the monthly tide and the rhythm of respiration; when spirit and Qi gather in the Heavenly Valley (tiangu, within the head), circulation naturally spirals and completes its circuit.

First warm the two breasts with “true fire,” then shift it into the Dantian (energy center), transforming it into “lead”—the material basis of inner refinement. With utmost sincerity in practice, one refines a purely Yang body and may, in the ideal language of the tradition, return to youth and extend life—this is the aspirational idiom of successful cultivation.

Part Two: Song of Grand Yin Refining the Form

Essence (Jing) and Qi (vital energy) are the foundation of the person; the heart is clear and still, inner and outer are mutually illumined—approaching Wuwei (non-action). Breath is fine and continuous; Yang water is gathered in. In silent tuning of the primordial, Kan and Li unite in “marriage”—water and fire achieve mutual completion, Yin and Yang harmonize.

When hungry or thirsty, drink the fluid of “true earth”—the saliva or inner elixir produced in practice; drunk with sleep as if clothed in fire-dragon garments. Turning the body like a sword standing upright, like a tower rising—ultimately becoming the “one zhang six” ladder to immortality: metaphors for the ascent of the inner landscape and the stages from form to the Way.

Part Three: Song of Grand Yin Refining the Form

The subtle use of Qian and Kun lies in square and circle answering each other; grasp the “double passes” and Qi spirals upward. Like the Yellow River rolling backward, waves three feet high; like drawing back a clear spring from the Mysterious Valley—describing true Qi flowing countercurrent, flooding the Mud Pill Palace.

The pure vase opens upward to gather cloud-snow; the clear flute should blow in accord with earth and heaven. After the “two-eight elixir head” is swallowed into the belly, the body in an instant turns to pure Qian—meaning Yin and Yang are fully aligned, the Kun body transforms toward Qian Yang, the image of achievement in one moment.

Part Four: Song of Grand Yin Refining the Form

Close the door and open the switch; the hundred vessels flow freely. Before midnight and after noon—roughly the hours around midnight through midday—practice in silence. In refining the form, turn the acu-points of the Mysterious Gate; draw and send the fire like wind from a bellows (tuoyue).

Tune the “tiger” in the purely Kun cavern; one ring encircles the “dragon” in the Zhen palace. Earth thunder issues its command, clouds deploy and rain falls, washing the “yellow sprout,” piercing through the nine layers—using dragon, tiger, thunder-rain, and yellow sprout as inner-scape language for firing times and elixir signs.

Part Five: Song of Grand Yin Refining the Form

To secure life one must first tune the root form; forget words and cut off thoughts, without clinging to the letter of scriptures. In the cauldron, refine the red-dust water of the four seas; in the mouth, draw in the jade-green essence of the three mountains—metaphors for inner and outer gathering and interchange.

The five-colored mysterious pearl pierces the Red Cliff; one branch of “karma leaf” (or leaf-shaped emblem) is set in a golden vase. The adept deploys divine craft, carving bamboo into a flute, tasting one note—a metaphor for the fineness of inner work and breath and sound in mutual response.

Part Six: Song of Grand Yin Refining the Form

The waxing and waning of Yin and Yang is entrusted to the “Yellow Dame”—often the harmonizing Qi that coordinates Kan and Li, or the focus of mindful attention; silent true feeling, two intents in accord. The tiger feeds on the marrow of the fledgling phoenix; the red serpent penetrates the black tortoise’s nest—still using tiger, phoenix, serpent, and tortoise as images for inner Yin-Yang union and the circulation of the governing and conception vessels or the exchange of Kan and Li within the body.

Opening Four Lines

When the five colors (the qi of the Five Phases) within the body transform into one another and merge into a single whole, demonic obstacles (disturbances in practice and inner demons) no longer arise. When Kan water (kidney water, yin essence) returns to its root source, the surging waves in the sea of the heart (discursive thoughts and emotional stirrings) settle of themselves. Cloud-qi spreads like a dragon’s roar; white snow (the “white” qi of body refinement, clear yang breath) rises upward—like a herd boy playing a flute across the hills, as qi turns toward the western slope (the Dui position, western metal qi), evoking the reversal of yin and yang and the circulation of vital breath.

Seventh: Song of Taiyin Refinement of Form

To refine the form, one must first guard the original root source (innate unified breath, the foundation of the dantian). Through regulated breathing in circular motion, gather breath in Shangxuan (the upper dantian, the region of the mud pill). Capture the red dragon (heart fire, emotional fire—in female alchemy also linked to the red dragon and blood-breath) and keep it hidden in the “field”; hold fast the white tiger (Dui metal, the lung and lower yin) so it stays settled “in the mud” and does not leak away recklessly.

Invite the immortal guest: Green Maiden (a guardian immortal in the female elixir line), together with Bai Yuchan (a high Daoist master of the Southern Song, author of classic neidan works); mouth-to-ear instruction passes the single unified Qi (the breath that unites heaven, earth, and human). The two breaths mutually swallow and devour each other (yin and yang interpenetrating, water and fire in mutual benefit), turning back the celestial revolution (reversing the microcosmic circuit, returning the elixir).

(The text repeats the label “Seventh” here; the meaning is as above—refining form, capturing the dragon and securing the tiger, and invoking transmission of breath.)

Eighth: Song of Taiyin Refinement of Form

The divine maiden at double eight (sixteen years, or the number two-times-eight, suggesting the peak of yin) plays the flute; clear notes answer Huaxi (the western Dui position, or a poetic “west of blossoms”). The jade youth (youthful yang, clear yang) startles awake and leaves the Li dragon cave (Li fire, the heart); the golden mother (western metal, maternal qi) welcomes him back to the Dui tiger foundation (Dui as tiger, the base of form refinement).

The hundred orifices are irrigated and opened; one Qi rotates in motion. The nine palaces (the nine palaces within the body, or the nine palaces of firing times) hold the breath, to cut down the three corpses (the three corpse insects in the body—greed, delusion, and other turbid yin). Heaven’s pass (above) and the earth axis (below) exchange messages; inverting yin and yang, yang returns (restoring yang, reverse cultivation)—those who truly know this are few.

Ninth: Song of Taiyin Refinement of Form

Since the journey to fetch the scriptures of the Three Treasures (the treasury of scriptures, or the three treasures of essence, qi, and spirit), one has “knocked over the nine-bend city of the Western Heaven” (breaking through the barriers of the western metal position and the nine turns). Reordering heaven and earth must begin by accumulating Qi; seek water and fire (Kan and Li) in mutual benefit to replenish the original form (restore the prenatal form, true yin and true yang).

Do not rush three circuits (three heavenly revolutions or three months of work); divine efficacy arises of itself. When one moment corresponds (mind and breath united, firing times aligned), creative transformation (spontaneous generation) is complete. Still, as spring wind welcomes the cosmos; transcending the ordinary and entering sagehood, eternal longevity (form and spirit both wondrous, merging with the Dao).

Since ancient times, among women who cultivate the Way, those who truly attain completion have been perhaps one in ten thousand. Zhao Dawu asked: If a woman wishes to cultivate the great Dao, what should she do first? The answer: First sweep away all lustful thoughts; even more urgent is cutting off attachment to love and affection. He asked again: Why? The answer: If lust is not removed, menstruation will not cease; if love and affection are not severed, the great Dao is hard to clarify. These two matters are the seed and root of birth-and-death in samsara, so they must come first. If one can cut off lust and sever love, let go of greed and anger, and set the will on cultivating the body, need one still fear that the great Dao will not be achieved or that wisdom will not arise? Even the dull-witted, if they follow the secret instructions, gathering innate qi once, may increase insight a hundredfold—poetry and prose need not be labored over yet flow forth, understanding without study. It is like the ordinary way of men and women uniting to beget children—the forward, generative path; if one reverses in oneself what can generate others, one can increase spiritual clarity; over time transformation occurs, and one may become an immortal, buddha, sage, or worthy. Patriarch Lü said: To escape the suffering of samsara, first extinguish unenlightenment; the mind that holds fast must be firm as blunt iron; a single thought of longing for women—even blazing fire cannot warm it; human ties, wealth, and glory must all be gathered in and released; leave the dusty world, forget others and forget self.

The Dao originally has no name; cultivated, it can be realized. Realization lies in single-minded will, clear awakening, and the true lineage.

Why do people have bodies? The functional power of Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) forms a small cosmos; the Five Phases gather and coalesce. When the parents’ Yin-Yang unite, in the formless dark, true essence condenses—then there is the physical form of the four great elements, like a fetus of pus and blood. The five senses and four limbs gradually grow into a complete form; when the melon ripens and the stem falls, the body’s appearance manifests on its own.

How does one gradually attain spiritual awareness? When anger, sorrow, feeling, and knowing, and real cognition of things are all complete, one may be called spiritually penetrating.

This passage explains female (or inwardly oriented) alchemical practice (Dandao): why scriptures were written, how to begin, firing phases and stages of attainment, drawing vocabulary from Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist traditions.

First section (exhortation and overview)

People find it easiest, while still in the prime of life, for the seven emotions (joy, anger, worry, thought, grief, fear, and shock) to stir their original nature; when knowing-nature is pulled by desire, it diverges from “nature as it originally is.” Once desire runs loose and the heart clings to fame and gain, passing the alchemists’ great barrier (the gate of life and death, the gate of the realm of desire) becomes extremely hard. Hence the common talk of “life and death”—sages cannot bear to see sentient beings trapped in a cage, so they composed alchemical scriptures, as if “fishing” for those with affinity with the teaching, urging return to the correct path—from entering the womb (in inner practice, a metaphor for spirit and breath returning to the root, as if recovering fetal breathing) onward, regulating through spirit and breath (intention and respiration) until the heels (as if guiding qi to the Yongquan region at the soles, so qi returns to the root). Union with essence (Jing) is what allows coalescence into the sacred infant (the “infant” formed in inner alchemy, a figure for true qi taking shape); the key lies in silent holding (not scattering the mind, guarding the center) and contemplating the original countenance (visualizing the primordial, the face before birth). The root of the parents in alchemical language often stands for heart and kidneys, the foundation of pre- and post-heaven; here it is called the Buddha-seed. The parents’ ultimate bliss figures the root refuge, the root lineage on which practice rests. Through the root to transcend the ordinary, through the root to become sage requires not mingling with the vulgar—fewer worldly thoughts, purifying the heart (Xin) and the kidney palace (the lower Dantian and Gate of Life region, where essence and qi are anchored).

Second section (repeated emphasis)

It restates: composing scriptures to draw the worthy, return to correctness, entering the womb, spirit and breath regulating to the heels, union with essence to form the sacred infant, silent holding and contemplating the original countenance, the parents’ root as Buddha-seed, ultimate bliss as root lineage, transcending the ordinary and becoming sage through the root, heart and kidneys unstained—same intent as above, stressing that one must firmly grasp the starting method and the destination.

Third section (Yin-Yang and temperament)

The two qi (usually pre-heaven qi and post-heaven breath, or yin and yang qi) circulate; when Yin-Yang harmonize, the body is at ease, as if parents through affinity bestowed this form (borrowing the human body and essence-qi to refine). A noble person can attain the Way; ordinary men often debase or drown in emotion and knowing; only an upright, resolute person (firm will, able to master desire) can endure the tempering of nature (bearing the forging of character, not turning with circumstances).

Fourth section (self-discipline and firing phases)

Governing oneself is hardest; without De (Virtue/Power) the heart scatters and cannot hold. When things come, know when to stop; only ultimate goodness (stopping at the highest good) enables gathering and cooking (gathering qi, refining in the cauldron). All depends on double forgetting (forgetting self and forgetting things), like hibernating insects wrapped within (winter dormancy as inner guarding—a image for deeply storing spirit and qi). True intention is fire; breath is wind (fire and wind fan each other—a common inner-alchemy image). Do not miss the season: when the nodal moment arrives it is like thunder from the earth (a sign of activation in the Dantian or meridians); after gathering (gathering the medicine, collecting essence-qi) and returning it to place, refine as if drumming and blowing the pipes (gentle nurturing, orderly ascent and descent). When the medicine lies hidden (medicine-qi concealed within) and great stillness is fixed (extreme quiet and stability), warm and preserve without startling; in an instant if vigor surges, then urgently return and work it (swift reverse circulation, returning to the furnace)—this is the second firing (the second grade of timing)—gathering into a cluster to form the Manī (Buddhist “manī” here figures the inner pearl, luminous and unmoved), taking shape; it requires oral transmission from a true master, reverse turning and upward rush (reverse pulley-cart, ascending along the Governing vessel). Pre- and post-heaven (post-heaven breath and pre-heaven qi) blend in one place; through three revolutions and nine returns, seven reversals (repeated ascent and descent, full-orbit firing phases) it is refined to completion.

Fifth section (three traditions in one)

Buddhism speaks of perfect enlightenment; Daoism of elixir complete; Confucianism of vast flowing qi (Mencius’s “supremely great and supremely strong” qi)—all point to the same great attainment, endless eons of spiritual power (a figure for measureless realization). To reach supreme greatness and strength, one must cultivate goodness and virtue—virtue as foundation, elixir as proof.

Additional verse (song)

The secret meaning of the three teachings converges in this piece; the River Chart and Luo Writings are taken as the source of number and principle. Confucians speak of two and five (two and five joining so the ten thousand things arise—a figure for the wondrous union of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases); Daoists speak of the pulley-cart (He Che) circulating the celestial orbit. The whole piece uses number, image, firing phases, and conduct as its threads, pointing to the correspondence between inner refinement and the language of the three teachings.

One sentence of context: Such women’s alchemical scriptures often borrow “sacred infant, parents, womb, pulley-cart, earth thunder” and similar terms; in substance they treat spirit and qi returning to the root, intention and breath mutually depending, gathering medicine and firing phases, and reverse circulation by master’s transmission. When reading, distinguish metaphor from bodily and practice referents; do not read only at the literal level of human relationships.

Explanatory verse (short gatha)

The gatha says: apply the essentials of the “Deer Cart” method so that the qi channels turn like a wheel; the ancients spoke of “never leaking through ten thousand ages”—they passed down the key points of non-leakage. The author hopes that like-minded people who truly wish to cultivate will practice and awaken in earnest, carefully distinguishing and investigating.

Chinese Immortality Studies: The Female Elixir Section

This section belongs to the branch of Chinese immortality studies devoted specifically to nüdan (female internal alchemy).

Letter from Ms. Chen Wuxuan of Baoshun, Jiangsu

A letter from Ms. Chen Wuxuan of Baoying, Jiangsu.

Respectfully submitted to Master Yuandun for your wise inspection:

Respectfully submitted by Chen Wuxuan

Respectfully submitted:

Respectfully submitted as follows:

Your disciple (self-reference as one who studies the Way) reflects that since I first heard the Way, more than twenty years have passed; days have flowed by in busyness and confusion, and I remain much as I was.

Since I first heard the Dao, more than twenty years have gone by; life has passed in hurry and haze, and I am still essentially the same person, with little real change.

When I think of this, shame and regret are beyond words.

When I think of this, my shame and regret cannot be put into words.

In past years I also entered many gates and met many cultivators; most were copying formulas by rote, and those who could attain real verification were very few.

Looking back on these years, I have entered many schools and met many teachers and fellow cultivators; most repeated stock phrases and empty talk, and those who could truly achieve verified results were very rare.

I only regret that my fate is thin and my karmic burden heavy, so that I have been unable to meet a true master.

I only regret that my blessings are slight and my karmic obstructions deep, making it hard to meet a genuine master.

Therefore I took scriptures of the true immortal and Buddhist transmission, such as Correct Principles of Celestial Immortals, and read and pondered them in quiet until I gained a little understanding; afterward I sought out an elderly Daoist master, Li, who had reached the age of seventy, was still vigorous in spirit, and whose religious name was Zhongzhou. His speech still accorded with the classics, so I begged him to transmit oral formulas such as “Severing the Red Dragon”; I practiced accordingly and once saw some effect.

So I took texts of the true immortal transmission, such as Correct Principles of Celestial Immortals, and read and meditated on them in solitude until I had a modest grasp. Later I found an old Daoist master, surnamed Li, nearly seventy years old, still in good spirits, with the religious name Zhongzhou. His words still matched the classics, so I asked him to transmit oral formulas such as “Severing the Red Dragon” (methods in female elixir for stopping menstruation and refining the self); I followed them and at one time experienced some effect.

Who would have thought that within a few years Master Li ascended to heaven; whenever I think of it, I can only sigh deeply.

Who would have thought that within a few years Master Li passed away; whenever I recall it, I can only sigh deeply.

In the twentieth year of the Republic, floods brought disaster and my practice suffered a setback.

In the twentieth year of the Republic (1931), catastrophic floods set my cultivation back.

The following year, in the last part of winter, once while in seated absorption I closed my eyes and forgot the body; suddenly the whole room filled with light, clearer than daylight. When I opened my eyes to look, nothing was visible.

The next year, toward the end of winter, once while in seated absorption I closed my eyes and forgot the form; suddenly the whole room was filled with light, clearer than by day. When I opened my eyes to look, it was gone.

After that, because I had to repair my dwelling, my practice grew slack.

After that, because I had to repair my home, my discipline became neglected.

Last year I reflected again and again: human life is like a dream; I saw that this illusory body is not solid, and that with birth and death unresolved I would still turn in samsara. Therefore I vowed to enter closed retreat, hoping to put body and mind in order and settle into quiet work.

Last year I thought repeatedly: life is like a dream; I saw that this illusory body is not firm, and that with birth and death unsettled I would still revolve in the cycle of rebirth. So I vowed to enter seclusion, hoping to put body and mind in order and devote myself to quiet cultivation.

It has now been nearly a year; I dare not claim great results, but there has been some modest effect.

It has now been nearly a year; I dare not claim great achievement, but there has been some modest effect.

Note: In elixir scriptures, “Deer Cart” often metaphorically denotes the initial stage of firing and guiding qi with intention; “Severing the Red Dragon” is a common term in female elixir for stopping menstruation and refining the self—formulas differ by lineage. Here these phrases are given only as background; they should not be taken out of context as medical advice.

Plain-Language Interpretation

She reflected in this way: human life is like a dream; once one awakens, one knows this illusory body is not solid. The great matter of birth and death is not yet settled, and one is still caught in the wheel of rebirth. Therefore she vowed to enter seclusion and sit in stillness, hoping thereby to put body and mind in order and cultivate quiet work. Nearly a year has passed; she dares not say there has been no effect at all.

What she regrets is that the oral formulas for tianji—the critical timing and pass-points in practice—have not yet been personally transmitted by a true teacher. She often fears stepping onto dangerous ground in cultivation and is even more afraid of taking a wrong path.

Yesterday Mr. Shi Zhihe sent a letter, by which she learned that the Master’s attainments are deep and his virtue weighty, with vast aspiration. Sadly she is confined in the retreat chamber and cannot come in person to bow before him; her heart is both glad and urgent, her reverence beyond words. She therefore takes the liberty of writing to beg the Master to unfold great compassion and wide mercy, and to set forth in detail the important formulas: advancing yang fire at zi and retreating the yin talisman at wu, mao-you bathing, gathering the great medicine over seven days, passing the barrier and ingesting, forming the sacred embryo, and the various key oral instructions of the great heavenly circuit (da zhou tian). She hopes later students will not miss the right moment and waste years in vain. If by good fortune she succeeds in the future, it will all be the Master’s gift. Such great kindness she would hold in her heart and repay with her whole life. Reading the Master’s writings, she sees him promote the Dao and virtue and give special weight to the female cultivation line (kundao); his care and guidance are earnest in the extreme. Though she has not formally entered his gate as a disciple, she so boldly reads and asks—she trusts he will not take offense.

What remains unsaid is much; she earnestly awaits a reply. With apologies for this tedious letter, she wishes the Master peace on the Dao.

Respectfully, a hundred bows,

Your later student Chen Wuxuan

Yuan Dunzi’s Reply to Ms. Chen Wuxuan of Baoying, Jiangsu

Yuan Dunzi to Ms. Chen Wuxuan:

Upon reading your letter, I can see how sincere your aspiration toward the Way is, and I deeply admire that. As for Yuandun, in the path of immortals I am at most a student of it. I am ashamed that I have not yet completed my own cultivation and am truly unfit to be anyone’s model teacher. Yet moved by your earnest seeking, if I gave no reply at all you might lose heart in disappointment, so I cannot simply set this aside. Because this is our first exchange, I cannot easily guess your particular situation. Please answer each of the following questions in detail; only then can we move on to a second stage of study.

(1) Are you a monastic, or a layperson?

(2) Are you already married, or not yet married?

(3) How old are you this year?

(4) Is your family’s circumstances good or difficult?

(5) Are your parents still living? Do you have siblings or children?

(6) Among the scriptures of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, how many kinds have you read?

(7) Among books on women’s cultivation, how many kinds have you read?

(8) Until when do you plan to remain in retreat?

(9) What kind of practice are you doing now in the retreat room?

(10) What is your own vow and hope—what level do you wish to reach in cultivation eventually?

Respectfully yours,

Yuandunzi

Jiangsu, Baoying — Second letter from Ms. Chen Wuxuan, with answers to the questions

Before the honored seat of Master Yuandun,

Yuandunzi:

Respectfully I report: This disciple carries heavy karmic burden from past lives and was born in the female form. In childhood I did not study much; I only stole glances at my younger brothers’ desks and imitated recitation beside them. Fortunately our home kept many good books, and in spare moments I browsed them. I especially loved reading the He Xiangu Baojuan (Precious Scroll of Immortal Maid He), and from that my resolve to cultivate gradually arose.

Commentary: In the view of those who cultivate immortality, men and women are equally qualified to study the Dao. If one compares how quickly practice bears fruit, women often advance faster than men; if one compares the height of eventual attainment, there is no difference. The common worldly habit of valuing sons over daughters is a human invention, not something mandated by Heaven. Most world religions—Buddhism, Catholicism, and various secret societies in mainland China such as this or that gate, hall, or association—mostly do not treat men and women as equals. Only within the gate of the immortality path (xiandao) is there no such hierarchy. Other religions mostly guide people of ordinary capacity; what the true immortality path truly guides is mostly persons of superior wisdom, and therefore it can escape the bonds of vulgar custom. Those with aspiration must not lose heart simply because they were born in a woman’s body.

Later, having obtained Xianfo Zhenchuan, Xianfo Hezong, and Tianxian Zhenglü and studied them together, one came to feel that the immortality path is something that can be cultivated with relative ease and verified in experience. (The original repeats this sentence once; the sense is the same.)

Commentary: In Xianfo Hezong and Tianxian Zhenglü, when women read them they can grasp the doctrine but cannot follow the books in actual practice. Xianfo Zhenchuan is also considered disorderly and lacking sequence—not as good as the first two works.

Thereupon one upheld refuge and precepts and vowed to leave the red dust of the world. By then one was sixteen or seventeen; the widowed mother entrusted a matchmaker to settle marriage for life. The disciple reported the vow in full. The mother not only refused to believe or listen but actively obstructed; when obstruction failed, she abused without restraint.

Those who undertake ritual ablution and other preparatory practice often have experiences much like the following.

When I was about ten, I found two copies of Ge Hong’s Biographies of Immortals (Shenxian Zhuan) from the Jin dynasty at home. I did not dare read them openly; I laid the book on my lap and read in secret, with the Analects spread on the desk as cover—for fear that if my father knew I was reading such “heterodox” books, he would beat and scold me.

At thirteen I slipped off to the street to learn Chenzhou talisman methods and came home to a thorough beating. At fourteen I bought a copy of Myriad Methods Return to the Source (Wanfa Guizong); the family found it, took it away, and burned it. Only after sixteen did I have a little more freedom, and they no longer watched me so closely; yet things like seals carved from thunder-struck jujube wood, the camphor-willow spirit rite, and peachwood swords—I still did not dare display openly.

Later my maternal uncle, seeing that his disciple had endured every sort of ordeal (mokao) yet had not changed his first resolve, took pity. He devised a plan to win my mother over and brought me here—a nunnery where one may keep one’s hair and practice without full tonsure, where several Daoist nuns (daogu) already lived. That somewhat fulfilled what I had wanted from the start. Though it was a desolate temple, a poor hermitage, with no property to speak of, once I had arrived I could only endure hardship and scrape out a living on my own. The straits I was in are hard to tell in full. The floods of the tenth and twentieth years of the Republic brought fresh setbacks again and again.

Yuandun's note: Those who practice at home inevitably get pulled by household duties and making a living; those who leave home often find it hard to get by. Whether to practice at home or as a monastic—for women as for men who seek the Dao—it is equally hard; it is a serious question. I have long wanted to contact fellow practitioners across the country and work out a sound approach, but the right conditions have not yet come; I do not know when that wish can be fulfilled.

From my weak-crown years (around twenty) until now, more than twenty years, though I have often lived in hardship, I have never for a day set aside the four essentials of practice: fa (teaching and lineage), cai (resources), lü (companions on the path), and di (a place for practice). In recent years several widows who kept their chastity and women of strong moral resolve have come to the hermitage to practice. I reflected that I myself had not yet received true transmission and could hardly hope for surpassing realization—how then could they achieve much? So two years ago I went in person to the capital to seek guidance. Alas, the accomplished masters were hidden from view and there was no one from whom to ask instruction; I then turned to Buddhist groups and visited for a long time, but what I met was mostly ordinary paths, hard to count on for transcendence.

Yuan Dun commentary: Setting out now to visit teachers and seek instruction is already no easy thing. I have seen many monastics and lay Daoist practitioners who spent a lifetime visiting teachers and traveling the whole country, yet still gained nothing. How much less can one hope to succeed when the journey never leaves the capital and the time is so short? Buddhist groups mostly teach recitation of the Buddha’s name and offer few other methods—I doubt they can meet your expectations. I once wrote a few critical remarks in Records of Side Paths and Small Arts that can fill in what was left unsaid here. The gist is: telling people to “go find a true master early” is actually laughable. A true master does not advertise, hand out flyers, hang out a sign, boast, or wear any special mark on the face. The world is vast—how is a seeker to know who the true master is, or which province, county, mountain, cave, street, or lane they live in? So how does one “seek”? I will say plainly: a true master can only be met by chance, not found by searching.

The narrator felt that the rites and rules of that teaching could restrain later students and also serve universal salvation, so he returned home, took tonsure, and borrowed the Buddhist name as a banner. Though it had a little effect in guiding others, he was deeply ashamed that he had not first saved himself.

Yuan Dun commentary: His situation deserves pity; his resolve deserves praise.

Therefore, starting on the ninth day of the third month last year, he began closed retreat, intending to use three years of quiet practice to finish the work that needed to be done.

Yuan Dun commentary: This is very good; I fully approve.

Since I began formal retreat and cultivation, I sit three times by day and three by night—six sessions in all each day. In recent months my ears often seem filled with a rushing, wind-like sound; my eyes now and then flash as if struck by lightning; and occasionally I seem to hear silk-and-bamboo music or insect chirping—yet when I step outside to look, nothing is there.

Yuan Dun notes: Experiences of this sort are common for anyone who seriously practices Daoist gongfu. They are nothing to marvel at, and one must not doubt or fear them.

Once you notice inner breathing—the sense of breath arising naturally inside the body—you should sit at once. If you do not, you may feel physically ill at ease.

As a rule you need to sit two or three hours before qi feels full and the spirit relaxed. About the two kinds of signs I described above, I do not know whether they are auspicious or harmful, or what principle they reflect. I ask the master for guidance.

Yuan Dun notes: These are changes in your own bodily physiology; they are not harmful. Continue, and finer states will come. See several letters from Mr. Li Chaorui, a student at Anhui Normal University, in earlier issues of this journal, and Mr. Liu Yuliang of Zhongshan County, Guangdong, and his “Eight Questions” in this issue. Male and female physiology differ, but the principle of nie yong zaohua (reversing creation—inverting essence and qi to form the elixir) is the same.

In the Ten Precepts of Female Alchemy, it is said that for a woman to stop the “red dragon” (menstruation and menstrual blood), she must refine it with “true fire” and harmonize it with “true fu” (talismans). If the timing of the fire or the fu formulas is even slightly off, not only will the Golden Elixir fail to form, but one may also invite the danger of “xue beng”—severe bleeding and flooding discharge. This is no empty warning. I myself went through such an episode once. It took more than a month before my body gradually settled; that was in the past. Recently I again cut off the red dragon in a very short time, and more than half a year has passed since then—yet unexpectedly, after it had stopped, the menstrual flow returned. This was likely because the true fire and true fu were not applied correctly. I reflect in private: for a woman to cultivate the Dao and transcend life and death, everything hinges on this gate. If this gate is not fully understood and passed, one may cultivate in vain and still end in ordinary old age and death—no different from any lay person.

Yuan Dun notes: Your high view is very much on the mark, and my humble view agrees. The gongfu of “zhan chi long” (Slaying the Red Dragon)—in female inner alchemy, interrupting the menses and stopping menstrual blood—is not especially difficult; it is several times easier than men’s cultivation. If cessation comes and then returns, there must be a reason. When men practice the xiao zhou tian (microcosmic orbit), with essence and qi circulating along the Ren and Du channels, many can hold yang qi and go half a year to a year without seminal leakage, yet leak again later. Close study often shows that gongfu was not coordinated properly: too much or too little both cause trouble. One must grasp the word “zhong” (center)—shou zhong (holding the center), staying in the middle. Diet matters in small ways too. Vegetarians often favor strong umami foods such as mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and MSG, which is very unsuitable; plain, almost tasteless meals are better, and soy sauce, salt, pepper, and chili should not be eaten in excess. Many other fine points exist; there is not room to list them all.

While I was still hesitating, I heard your venerable teacher’s name. The other day, not presuming too much, I prepared a letter setting out the details in full. I am deeply grateful that you did not reject my crude approach and sent your generous reply; I have read it again and again with joy and gratitude beyond words.

Yuan Dun notes: I now appear in the role of an “external path” advocate, devoted solely to promoting immortal studies (xianxue), which differs from Buddhist aims. Since you have already shaved your head and taken refuge in the Buddha’s teaching, if you also study the Dao with me, are you not afraid your fellow monastics will take offense?

In recent years there have often been Buddhist lay followers… (devoted solely to immortal studies, differing from Buddhist aims; since you have shaved your head and taken refuge in the Buddha’s teaching, if you also study the Dao with me, are you not afraid your fellow monastics will take offense?—the same point as above: the Buddhist and immortal paths are two roads, and fellow practitioners may object.)

In recent years, several Buddhist lay devotees have studied the Dao with me. Occasionally one or two had bad luck and were found out by others in their community; those people interfered heavily and scared them into staying away. Later they asked me again to keep their identities secret and not reveal them publicly. I believe learning the Dao is an upright, open matter—why hide and sneak about? If it looks like thievery, what kind of conduct is that? Would it not tarnish the reputation of immortal cultivation? They each had their own reasons; I could not readily agree and had to let the matter drop.

I do not know whether laywomen have similar worries. That is why, for the time being, this lady’s name is not printed—solely for that reason.

I now submit the full account from beginning to end, apologizing for the intrusion. If you do not find it beneath notice, I earnestly beg the master, in great compassion, to explain in detail the secret oral instructions on advancing the fire, withdrawing the talisman, bathing, nurturing warmth, the greater and lesser celestial circuits, civil and martial firing, gathering and sealing, the living zi hour, and all such matters, so that practice may proceed. If you graciously grant what is asked in this letter, any achievement hereafter will entirely be the master’s gift. Gratitude cannot be expressed in a single sentence!

Yuan Dun replies: People who study Buddhism are often confused by names and appearances; those who study immortality have the same problem. In time I can unravel these doubts for you one by one—please do not be anxious.

In reply to your ten questions:

1. She is a monastic.

2. She has never married.

3. She is forty-six years old.

4. Her circumstances suffice to keep her free from hunger and cold.

Four

The conditions for practice are stable: food and clothing are secure, and one is not driven by hunger or cold.

Five

My lay family lives about fifty li from here. My father died early; my mother is still alive. I have brothers and sisters, but we do not usually visit one another.

Six

I have read the Confucian and Buddhist classics in a general way. I have also read Daoist works such as the Twelve Types, Cantong qi, Wuzhen pian, Xingming guizhi, Xiudao quanzhi, Xianfo hezong, Tianxian zhengli, Xianfo zhenchuan, Lüzu quanshu, Xuanguan jing, Xuanmiaojing, the complete works of Zhang Sanfeng, and others.

Seven

I have largely collected the Daoxue xiao congshu (Little Daoist Studies Series) printed by Yihuatang. For women’s Daoist practice I have also obtained Nüdan shi ze, Nügong zhengfa, Sun Bu’er nüdan shijue, and Nannü dangong yitong bian.

Eight

At first I planned a three-month retreat; because I gained real benefit in seclusion, I extended it to three years.

Nine

My current method: when I sit, I first direct attention to the “sea bottom” (the qi foundation in the lower dantian and the yin region). When qi there stirs, I shift attention to the “breast gate” (the upper burner and the chest region around danzhong—an important pass in female internal alchemy).

Ten

My aspiration is to cultivate until I achieve “ascension in broad daylight”—a public demonstration of transcending birth and death—for the benefit of the wider public.

Further inquiry

Reading the female-alchemy texts carefully, I see the phrase “women’s destiny has three [gates],” which I take to mean the sea bottom, the middle palace, and the breast gate. I still do not know which of these a woman should hold at the very beginning.

Yuandun’s reply

It is most fitting to guard “the center.” This “center” is the center where spirit and qi unite—not merely the anatomical middle palace. It is the center of inner and outer responding in mutual accord—not rigidly fixing on one spot inside the body. The sea bottom, middle palace, and breast gate are not forbidden as focuses, but if you cling to one place and guard it to death, that does not accord with the Great Dao.

The disciple asked: At this stage, which method of practice should I use to actually witness the kind of scene people describe as “yang arising within the transformations of creation”? Everyone has heard of this phenomenon, but whether one applies the practice correctly is something not everyone truly knows. The ancients said: “Miss by a hair’s breadth, and you err by a thousand miles.” That is no exaggeration.

Yuandun replied: For now, continue with whatever method you are already accustomed to and have learned to do—carry on with that for the time being.

You need to embody “faintly present, as if it lingered; employ it without forcing” (these two lines come from the Daodejing and suit beginners well). As for whether you have truly discerned the sign of “yang arising,” you must first be clear about what huozi (Living Midnight—the moment when yang first stirs in practice, not by the clock but felt inwardly) is. Whether you genuinely recognize huozi depends in turn on first understanding huowu (Living Noon—the corresponding inner juncture). In women’s practice, one usually speaks of hong (mercury) rather than qian (lead)—emphasizing yin softness, mindful guarding, and spirit-and-qi, and saying less about the “lead” side of men’s elixir methods. The Lingyuan Dadao Ge (Songs of the Great Dao of the Lingyuan) by Immortal Sister Cao Wenyi of the Song—a major figure in women’s elixir literature—is very much worth reading; you should not neglect it. If you have not seen it yet, I can copy it out for you another day.

The disciple added: Whenever I meet senior figures in the Daoist community, I always press them on the most subtle points, and they mostly brush me off with vague answers—is that because they refuse to speak plainly, or because they do not really understand either?

Yuandun notes: There are three reasons for this. First, men and women are different, and some things are not suitable to say plainly. Second, male masters are usually only familiar with the path of male cultivation (qiandao—the practices for men); they cannot truly grasp the physiological changes in a woman’s body, so when they speak of female cultivation (nügong), they often miss the point, like feeling for a boot through the leather. Third, when they studied with their own teachers, they never asked about female practice, so when others inquire later, they have nothing to answer. These three points are common shortcomings among male teachers. Female teachers may avoid these three problems, but their own cultivation is often not yet equal to yours; if you ask them, they naturally cannot explain clearly.

Respectfully reporting to my venerable master: You cultivate both inner and outer aspects, and your achievement is complete; your words differ from ordinary people’s, and your resolve surpasses the sages of old. Your disciple rejoices and privately feels blessed across three lifetimes; though we correspond by letter, it is as if hearing your teaching in person. I only fear that the secret oral formulas of heaven’s mystery must be strictly guarded and transmitted face to face, and cannot lightly be put on paper—this too is unavoidable. Yet remembering that my venerable master’s heart is set on spreading the Dao and whose will is to save beings, might you grant your disciple a convenience and transmit beyond the usual rule? With deepest reverent prayer I await your reply. Respectfully, this letter.

Your disciple Chen Wuxuan bows in respect.

Preliminary note on the complete/sudden approach: Guidance can be given by letter, but there is no need to hurry. Female alchemy depends on season and affinity; it cannot be forced. When the time is right, I plan to copy out several nüdan oral formulas and send them. Whether one succeeds also depends on the student’s wisdom and merit; formulas alone cannot guarantee success.

Replies to questions from Madame Chen Wuxuan of Baoying

Question 1: You say there are fewer than twenty kinds of nüdan books in the country. Here we only have the Yihua Hall Collection of Women’s Daoist Learning and your Annotated Nüdan Poems; we do not know where to find the rest. If any can be purchased, please give addresses; if they are secret holdings, could two kinds be lent for copying?

Answer: Such books do not circulate in the market; there is nowhere to buy them. When convenient, they may be published in this journal from time to time.

Question 2: When I practice sitting by day, wandering thoughts are relatively easy to stop and stillness comes more easily. Only when I wake at night I feel spirit strong and qi full, miscellaneous thoughts arise, and I cannot settle the spirit—it feels like a real hindrance. I beg for instruction on a corrective method.

Answer: Read Treatise on Sitting and Forgetting closely and study the Classic of Kun’s Tranquility (a common stillness classic in nüdan); you should find the method of “stopping thoughts.” In my view, in the early stages of practice “miscellaneous thoughts” are not necessarily a great harm. As long as the body sits upright and unmoving, let thoughts rise and fall as they will. “Still water without ripples” is not so easily achieved!

(Note: A duplicated passage before “Question 2” in the original has been omitted; only the coherent Q&A is translated.)

Question 3: In our Daoist community, among female disciples who have both merit and wisdom and may hope to attain cultivation in the future, the master must have a few names in mind after years of seeking the Way. Please name a few so we can rejoice at heart.

Answer: Most people in the world lack both merit and spiritual insight. A few have merit but no heart turned toward the Way, or a heart for the Way but no karmic affinity. Those with both merit and wisdom are already extremely rare; among women today, it is truly not easy to find those who love the Way and can still be expected to succeed in cultivation. We are still searching attentively; if suitable candidates appear, we will let everyone know.

Question 4: There is a chaste widow who married at nineteen and lost her husband at twenty-four. She is strong in body and clear in mind. Strangely, she has never menstruated in her life. She now intends to devote herself to cultivating the Way. Does she have hope of “obtaining the medicine and returning the elixir” (de yao huan dan)? Please instruct us, master.

Answer: Women who never menstruate in a lifetime are not uncommon in the world. If it is not due to hidden illness in the body, it is karmic root carried from past lives. If she seriously practices Daoist gongfu, she may actually find it easier than women who menstruate, because she can skip the “slaying the Red Dragon” (zhan chi long)—stopping menses and refining the Red Dragon—procedure. In the past there was a well-known film star who was born without menstruation; she was very clever and though advanced in years did not look old—but unfortunately she did not understand cultivation and drifted through life in dissipation, which was a great pity.

Question 5: Elixir scriptures all say that women’s practice differs from men’s, and also say “speak of mercury, do not speak of lead” (yan gong bu yan qian). This disciple is dull; I beg the master to explain.

Note: “Obtaining the medicine and returning the elixir” refers to achievements in internal refinement such as gathering the medicine, forming the elixir, and returning the elixir. “Speak of mercury, do not speak of lead” is a convention in female elixir terminology to emphasize “mercury” (gong) and speak less of “lead” (qian), differing from male elixir discourse on “lead and mercury” (qian gong). The original text appears to repeat phrasing in the answer to Question 4; the vernacular version treats it as one smooth passage.

Answer (Mercury, Lead, and “Speaking of Mercury but Not Lead”)

This is because the innate physiological makeup of men and women is not the same to begin with—a natural difference, not something anyone deliberately invented. The phrase “speak only of mercury, not of lead” does not mean that women have only mercury and no lead. Rather, women in former times were bound by ritual propriety and moral norms and often shrank from speaking plainly, so the classics use hidden language and are unwilling to explain mercury and lead outright.

Question Six

The female alchemy texts say: “When the wind is about to come, you must first capture the tiger; when rain is about to fall, you must slay the dragon. Only if you act neither too early nor too late, seizing the moment, can you refine and temper.” The subtle meaning here I dare not guess at; I beg the master to explain in detail.

Answer

The word zhan (to slay) in “seize in good time by slaying” is probably a scribal error for cai (to gather). For the concrete situation, see the piece on “slaying the dragon” in the Commentary in Verse on Sun Buer’s Female Alchemy. If it is still unclear, paper cannot exhaust it; in the future one can only rely on oral transmission face to face.

Question Seven

Are “yang fire” and “yin tally” the same as descending in front and ascending behind? Exactly how are they circulated? And at what times are they applied? Please instruct.

Answer

Such application is extremely subtle and fine; it cannot be made clear on paper and requires question and answer in person. Nor is it something one can penetrate in a short time: the student of the Way must stay with the one who transmits the Way, practicing at all times and receiving pointers at all times; errors corrected as they arise, deviations cleared as they appear—only then is it possible to reach a complete stage.

Question Eight

The elixir classics say “install the furnace and move the cauldron, establish the microcosmic orbit”—where exactly are the furnace and cauldron installed? Some say they are installed at the central palace—is that so?

Answer (in the transmitted text this reply repeats the preceding passage and is unfinished; only the visible wording is given here)

The reply begins with the “furnace” and connects with phrases such as “only then can one reach a complete stage”; as far as the visible text of this passage goes, it still does not specify where the furnace and cauldron should be placed, and one must still rely on oral transmission in actual practice and comparison with other editions.

Question Eight

The elixir scriptures say, “Set up the furnace, move the cauldron, and establish the microcosmic circuit.” Where exactly are the furnace and cauldron placed? Some say they are set up in the middle palace—is that correct?

Answer: The furnace is the Kun furnace, in the lower region; the cauldron is the Qian cauldron, in the upper region. The middle palace is not where one sets up the furnace or establishes the cauldron.

Question Nine

“Once the elixir is mature, there is no need to apply fire phases; if you keep applying fire phases, you will harm the elixir.” How do you know the elixir is mature?

Answer: “Mature” means the elixir has already formed. At that stage you should nurture it with gentle fire (wenhuo), and must not cook it urgently with martial fire (wuhuo) as before. If you still refine it fiercely, the formed elixir cannot settle securely and is easily lost in dispersion and flight. Not only is prior effort wasted—you can also bring on serious illness.

Question Ten

Chongxu Zhenren said: “When the elixir is mature, pass the barrier, take it in food, and enter the spirit chamber—then perform the macrocosmic circuit with nurturing fire phases.” Is this correct?

Answer: Very much so.

Further Reply to Ms. Chen Wuxuan: How to Conserve After Cutting the Red Dragon

Yuan Dunzi

Last month I received your letter but had no leisure to reply; now I steal a moment for these few lines, to comfort you across the distance.

This kind of work is living, not dead—it must be adapted to each person’s body and circumstances. Many who transmit the Way in the world teach fixed methods; people often practice themselves into strange illnesses, mostly because they do not know how to adapt. Whatever the formula, every benefit has a matching drawback; when a rigid master meets a dull disciple, they often swallow the drawback before tasting the benefit.

When a physician prescribes treatment, he must always examine the patient carefully face to face. If he only sends medicine based on questions asked at a distance, it is hard to guarantee that no mistake will occur. How much more so when the matter is one of contending with the creative power of nature, and a subtle mechanism that even spirits and gods can barely fathom—how could it be settled by a few letters of question and answer without meeting in person? If something goes wrong in practice and illness arises, who will bear that responsibility? Therefore what can be told you on paper today is only four words: “embrace the One and guard the center.”

“Embrace the One” means that heart and breath rely on each other, spirit and qi (vital energy) become one, never parting from each other. “Guard the center” means that after spirit and qi are united, within the central palace (zhonggong—usually the dantian (energy center) or the Yellow Court region below the heart) you rest in undivided stillness, returning to the chaotic state before Heaven and Earth were opened.

This is the supreme method of refining the elixir, with benefit and no harm. Once the Red Dragon has been cut off (in female alchemy, stopping menstruation and ending the “red dragon”), you are especially suited to continue this kind of work. If you can truly practice until the most subtle and wondrous level, you can leave the wheel of rebirth, transcend the cycles of calamity, stand beside sages, immortals, and buddhas, look down upon the human and heavenly realms, and play freely between birth and death; a small change in the fleshly, illusory body counts for even less. “When the Dao is spoken from the mouth, it seems flavorless”—if you are truly of the highest capacity, you will surely believe these words.

Appendix: Original letter from Madame Chen Wuxuan

Respectfully submitted: … (If the full text of the original letter was not attached, only the heading format of the document is retained here.)

Last month I was blessed to receive your teaching in the journal and a handwritten copy of Lingyuan Dadao Ge (Song of the Spiritual Source and Great Dao). My mind felt as if a blockage had suddenly cleared; words cannot express my gratitude. I ought not to trouble you again, but only wait quietly for the right moment and your command. Yet because I deeply feel how critical the huofu (the inner-alchemy “fire talisman”—the pivotal juncture tied to firing times and inner verification) is, and the danger of “losing what was gained” (in practice, when a attained state or refined essence and qi slip away again), I cannot but plead once more.

In recent months, one thing may offer some comfort: what is called the “dragon” (often a key breath or inner sign in refinement) seems to have been cut off and has not returned—but I still do not grasp the foundation and inner meaning of the huofu, and fear that in time I may again gain only to lose, leave only to return. Therefore I urgently beg my master to extend great compassion, disclose a little of heaven’s secret, and transmit the true oral instructions, so that your disciple may reach the ultimate of elixir refinement and walk the genuine path—lest these years be wasted and the name “cultivation” be empty.

The vow I made before, seen in light of today, may hardly count as the true way, and may invite the reproach of “big words without shame.” Reading your honored discussion of feisheng (ascension) in issue seventy-four, there is as yet no one living who can prove it. With my dull capacity, to rashly set such a surpassing aspiration truly invites laughter from those who know the Way.

Your disciple’s single thought is sincere folly: seclusion and quiet sitting, rashly engaging in xiuzhen (cultivating the real)—unable to attend you in person and hear the dharma voice; how deeply I regret it! I now record several questions and respectfully ask the master to instruct me in detail; where heaven’s secret is involved, I especially hope for instruction by letter. If your disciple should treat this lightly or transmit it carelessly, I vow to perish by my own body. I do not dare be presumptuous; I truly fear repeating past mistakes. If you would kindly pity this fool below and forgive my sincere but clumsy heart, I would be most fortunate.

Letter from Chen Wuxuan (excerpt)

The ten items listed are all respectfully submitted for the Master’s detailed instruction; those touching on secret celestial mechanisms I especially hope may be discussed in writing. If your disciple should treat them lightly or spread them rashly abroad, I vow to bear the consequences in my own person. This is not bold importunity on my part—I truly fear repeating the mistakes of those who came before. If you would look down with pity on my dullness and indulgently understand my sincere intent, I would be deeply fortunate.

All ten points are submitted together for your full guidance; if you grant this favor, my gratitude would be boundless. With this respectful report I kowtow and beg your discerning attention.

Your female disciple Chen Wuxuan, from Chahe Town on the west of Lake Bao, kowtows one hundred times.

Yuandunzi’s reply to Ms. Chen Wuxuan of Chahe Town, Bao

I have received your letter. In it you introduce Ms. Zhang Zhide, who is practicing the work that comes after “slaying the dragon.” Last month Ms. Zhang came in person to visit me in the countryside and stayed two days. How yang fire and yin tally advance and retreat, and how breath rises and falls in circulation—I have already explained these to her in outline. Though she is not highly literate, her practice is quite good. She is forty-one this year and has already refined away menstruation for three years. The hidden conditions in her body I cannot conveniently inquire into in detail; my wife, Ms. Yizhu, asks on my behalf. Her past bodily experience matches the oral formulas I hold line for line, so one knows it is not empty talk—she is a practitioner in earnest, her gongfu already has a foundation, and she understands as soon as I speak. Compared with some women who know only the words, she is far more advanced, which is also a cause for joy.

She has now left satisfied, but unfortunately I do not know her mailing address. I hear she rents a single-room shack in Yangshupu, Shanghai, cooks for herself, and does not live in the Tang mansion. Have you heard anything of this? Your period of seclusion is not yet complete, so naturally you should not leave retreat, lest worldly people mock you.

The application of methods such as “Yang Fire” and “Yin Talisman” belongs to youwei fa (deliberate, actively guided practice): the hinge is the character lian—“refining,” “forging through.” The subtlety of “embracing the One and guarding the center” belongs to wuwei fa (practice that does not force intent, centered on nurturing): the hinge is the character yang—“warming and nourishing,” “holding and consolidating.”

Youwei practice cannot fully encompass wuwei; wuwei practice can embrace and coordinate youwei.

What I set out for Ms. Zhang here is a middle-grade elixir method. What I said to you in the journal earlier was supreme-level work. Please do not look down on this or feel dissatisfied on that account.

Further reply to Ms. Chen Wuxuan: how to preserve and guard after “severing the Red Dragon”

Yin Dunzi

Last month your letter arrived; I had no leisure to answer until now. I steal a few lines to comfort you across the distance.

This kind of work is a living method, not a dead formula. One must read each person’s body and circumstances and adapt flexibly accordingly.

Those who transmit the Way in the world often teach people with fixed formulas. Strange illnesses often appear—and that is mostly because adaptability is not understood.

Whatever the oral formula, where there is one benefit there is one drawback. A rigid master plus a dull disciple: before any benefit is tasted, the drawback is already taken.

Thus after “severing the Red Dragon,” preservation is not a single checklist but ongoing yang—nurturing the center, guarding essence and spirit, and adjusting fire and timing to the person—while keeping wuwei as the frame within which any necessary youwei “refining” is allowed. That is the spirit of the “living method” described above.

When a physician prescribes treatment, he must examine the patient thoroughly in person; if he sends medicine based on questions alone, it is hard to guarantee that no mistake will occur. How much more so when a woman’s cultivation is a matter of contending with creation itself, touching mysteries that even spirits and gods cannot fully fathom—how could one rely on a few letters back and forth without ever meeting face to face? If illness arises from practice, who would bear that responsibility? Therefore what can be told you on paper today is only these four words: “embrace the One and guard the center.”

“Embrace the One” means that heart and breath depend on each other, spirit (Shen) and Qi become one and no longer separate. “Guard the center” means that after spirit and Qi are united, one rests in perfect stillness in the central palace (the Dantian and the region around the heart), returning to the primordial chaos before Heaven and Earth were formed.

This is the highest grade of elixir method, with benefit and no harm. Now that the Red Dragon (menstruation) has ceased, you are especially suited to continue this kind of work. If you can truly cultivate to the utmost mystery and subtlety, you may leave the wheel of rebirth, transcend the cycles of calamity, stand beside sages, immortals, and buddhas, look down upon the human realm and heaven, and play freely with birth and death; as for changes in the physical body, those count for even less. The Daodejing says, “When the Dao is spoken from the mouth, it seems flavorless”—if you are a person of superior capacity, you will surely trust these words deeply.

Appendix: Original Letter from Madame Chen Wuxuan

To the respectful recipient: … (If the body of the letter was not attached, only this heading note is retained here.)

Last month I was deeply grateful for your teaching in this journal and for sending me a copy of Lingyuan Dadao Ge; my closed heart has gradually opened, and I do not know how to express my gratitude for such kindness. I ought not to disturb you again or ask further questions, but only wait quietly for the right moment and respectfully await your clear command. Because I feel keenly how crucial the fire talisman (in female alchemy, a class of key methods using intentional fire and talisman fire to regulate the breath and refine the body) is, and how dangerous running away (when refining essence into qi is not yet stable, spirit and qi scatter outward or the realm slips back), I cannot help but plead once more.

What I can report with some comfort these past months is that the Red Dragon (menstrual flow) has been cut off and has not returned; yet I still have not penetrated the foundation and inner meaning of the fire talisman, and I privately fear that in time I may gain and lose again, or leave and return. Therefore I urgently beg my master to extend great compassion, look down with pity, disclose a little of heaven’s secret, and transmit the true oral instructions, so that your disciple may reach the ultimate of elixir cultivation and ascend the true path of the Way, and not waste the years in vain, nor bear the name of practice empty-handed.

Plain-Language Commentary

(Letter from the female disciple Chen Wuxuan to her master)

Looking back at the vows I once made and the words I then spoke, I can hardly blame others for calling them empty boasting and overreaching. Recently I read in issue seventy-four of this journal a discussion of whether there are genuine cases of “ascension”; the piece still holds that no one has truly attained it. My own talent is dull, yet I dare to cherish such “beyond-the-ordinary” aspirations—surely that will draw laughter from experts.

Respectfully I report to my master: you have mastered every branch of the tradition and devote yourself wholly to saving others—a rare example in past or present, East or West. I, for my part, out of one thought of utmost sincerity, withdrew into seclusion to cultivate in vain; I failed to come sooner to your presence and hear your teaching, and I am deeply ashamed. I now set down several questions and beg you, out of great compassion, to explain them at length. Where secret celestial mechanisms are involved, I especially hope for a written reply. If I should treat them lightly or pass them on carelessly, I vow to accept destruction of my body—not from bold presumption, but for fear of repeating past mistakes. If you will bend to pity my low station and forgive my foolish heart, I would count it great fortune.

All ten items listed below I earnestly ask you to clarify in detail; if you grant this, my gratitude will know no end. With this respectful submission I kowtow and beg your wise judgment.

Your female disciple Chen Wuxuan of Chahe Town, west of Lake Bao, kowtows one hundred times.

(Editorial note: The following is a reply to Ms. Zhang Huikun of Chicheng, Tiantai, signed Yuandunzi.)

Your previous letter reached us through the Xiandao Yuebao office. What you wrote in each section is not without reason; yet you have not been able to read the complete Yangshan Kan. Had you read straight through from the first to the ninety-ninth issue in order, you would surely understand the editorial aim of that journal and how its approach gradually changed, and would no longer be in doubt.

In Yangshan Banyue Kan (Fortnight Journal for Promoting Good), whenever articles appeared debating Immortals and Buddhism, the authors were mostly forced to respond—they wrote only because they had no choice; otherwise who would waste ink for nothing?

Layman Zhang Huasheng originally honored Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism together; he did not value only the Way of Immortals while looking down on Buddhism. His articles were meant to reconcile “the elixir Way / the Way of Immortals” with Buddhism. Unfortunately, the other side wanted a “pure” flock of believers and would not tolerate such reconciliation—they insisted on placing Buddhism above Confucianism and Daoism. Layman Huasheng had no choice but to answer back, and side issues multiplied; that was never what he wanted. Alas—whose fault was it?

In every age and every land, for every teaching, some approve and some oppose; when some oppose, others step in to reconcile. Take the Way of Immortals: my fellow travelers and I belong to the approving camp; many who slander the Way of Immortals belong to the opposing camp; and figures such as Huasheng, Zhu Qian, and Zunxian belong to the reconciling camp.

Affairs and principles in the world often fall into these three stances—approval, opposition, and reconciliation (the original text is corrupt and repetitive here; the sense is as above).

The principles at work in all things under heaven inevitably involve these three schools—or three standpoints—mixed together; no one can utterly wipe the others out. The only one who can truly “eliminate” oneself is oneself. If you are slandered and do not argue back, that is tantamount to eliminating yourself. We have no wish to attack others, but we are not willing to “eliminate” ourselves either. Disputes over how immortals (xian) and Buddhas differ or agree arise from this. It is a trend of natural evolution—nothing to wonder at.

Ancient authors who wrote Daoist classics mostly belonged to what might be called a syncretist current: they freely blended Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist language, so such works often contain Confucian and Buddhist terms. Confucian literati frequently did not object, which amounted to tacit acceptance of the practice.

The opposing camp wanted to produce scriptures that were exclusively Daoist, so as to elevate their own lineage’s standing; they therefore disliked these syncretist works and rejected them strongly. To preserve the independent standing of immortality cultivation (xianxue)—so it would not be slighted by that opposing camp—we also prefer not to keep mixing in Buddhist terminology.

The practical difficulty is that many popular immortality texts from the Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing were written by syncretists who cited all three traditions at will; truly “single-tradition” works are rare. For that reason, even after we edit and publish Daoist books and remove Buddhist terms where we can, some still remain. If we stripped every such term, we would fear distorting the original. We can only hope that when I write books myself in the future, I can avoid Buddhist vocabulary entirely.

Moreover, ancient works such as Laozi’s Daodejing, Zhuangzi’s Nanhuajing, the Zhouyi Cantong Qi, the inner chapters of Baopuzi, and the inner and outer Huangting Jing contain almost no Buddhist terms—so the older the Daoist book, the better in this respect; the drawback is that classical Chinese is deep and hard to read.

Qin Huo Chong Guang is devoted entirely to Waidan (external alchemy). Unless one has authentic transmission and hands-on experience in the external furnace and fire phase, it is very hard to understand. This book was issued by the Society for Engraving Alchemical Scriptures (Dandao Kejing Hui).

Qinhuo Chongguang (The Restored Radiance of the Zither Fire) is a book devoted entirely to Waidan (external alchemy)—the method of refining the Golden Elixir in furnace and crucible. Without true transmission in that art and hands-on experience at the furnace, one cannot hope to understand it. It was published by the Dandao Kejing Hui (Scripture Carving Society for the Way of the Elixir); I only did what little I could to help with proofreading. When the edition appeared, people at the society gave me several copies in thanks, and I long ago passed them on to friends who study external alchemy. (Note: This work is an exceedingly rare text, seldom seen in circulation at home or abroad. The society feared it might be lost to time and printed it to preserve a national treasure. When Master Yuan bestowed the “Xuan Pian” upon me, I felt deep awe and have not dared to forget; yet I lack the talent—I had no leisure to study it thoroughly beforehand, and in the turmoil of war and displacement I could not speak of trying the furnace afterward. Reading this, I cannot help but linger with reluctance.) At the time I did not have a copy at hand, so I could not send one to you; please forgive me. In my humble view, those who practice internal cultivation need not read books on external alchemy: that is a separate line of study, unrelated to cultivation of the body, and reading it would only waste mental effort.

(... middle omitted ...)

The Xianxue Yuan (Immortal Studies Academy) opened in the fifth month of the twenty-seventh year of the Republican calendar (1938) and has now completed a full year, yet it has remained in constant uncertainty. For that reason no formal charter was drawn up, and no daoist friends have taken up residence. Whether it will continue is likewise uncertain. Friends from other regions have written to ask, so I offer this general reply here.

Reply to a lady in Anyang, Henan:

I have read your letter. That someone in their twenties, with a formal education, can sincerely believe in this path of cultivation and resolve to pursue it is no small thing. Though circumstances for now keep you from doing as you wish, where there is firm intent, things can be achieved—it is only a matter of time. Please do not hurry.

Matters of this kind need opportune conditions to align, and enough merit, blessing, and wisdom; only then is there real hope of reaching the goal. The more you rush, the less you gain. Consider: an ordinary mortal in a body of flesh, undertaking a task that shakes heaven and earth—how much hidden strength and perseverance, how much lively adaptability, how many trials and dangers must be tasted, how much equanimity and flexibility are required? That cannot be forced by haste. Rush, and you may even fall into mental disorder, losing everything built so far—would that not be a pity?

As for dual cultivation practice, it is safe only after “Slaying the Dragon” (stopping menstruation). Otherwise, if the partner slackens for a moment and cannot hold to steadfast endurance, it is as the immortal Zhang Sanfeng said: “At the rapids you cannot hold the boat”—before the immortal embryo is formed, a mortal pregnancy may already occur, adding another layer of obstruction. After childbirth, one can of course cultivate again and recover one’s former condition, but compared with never having borne a child, there is inevitably much extra difficulty; it is no longer as convenient as before.

On age

Age certainly matters, but not in the way one might assume. If the other person’s internal cultivation is deep, it hardly matters even if they are twice your age. Think of it this way: they earn a hundred units by their own effort, give you fifty and keep fifty; you earn two hundred by your effort, give them a hundred and still keep a hundred—each of you then has a hundred and fifty on the books. Do this again and the same holds; after dozens or hundreds of times, it is still the same. After a few years, both can become “wealthy.” What to fear is spending the principal without knowing how to generate more—in a few years the capital is gone and poverty follows at once; then things truly fail. That is the logic of shuangxiu (dual cultivation: man and woman cultivating together as mutual support). The ancients would not say this plainly in their books; to hint at it even slightly here is already an unprecedented disclosure—please take special note.

Appendix: Original letter from a lady in Anyang

Respected Master Yuandun,

Since “graduating” from a female master (a woman Daoist practitioner or cultivation guide) in Henan, your humble student has felt deeply that the world is impermanent and life unpredictable, with no lingering attachment to the red dust, and often cherishes the wish to cultivate the Dao. I have read Complete Works of Patriarch Lü, Correct Principles of Immortals, Union of Immortals and Buddhas, Great Synthesis of the Dao Lineage, Laozi’s Dao De Jing, and various books on women’s cultivation, but without a true oral transmission (essential instructions passed mouth-to-ear, never written in books)—only empty sighs and regret (“calling in vain”).

Unexpectedly, I recently received the Yangshan Semi-Monthly I had subscribed to and saw that my teacher’s learning is broad and virtue high, which fills this student with great admiration… (The letter also describes reading and lamenting the lack of oral secrets, in continuity with the above.)

I recently received the Yangshan Semi-monthly I had ordered. Seeing my master’s vast learning and lofty virtue in the Way, I am filled with the utmost admiration and respect. In recent days my longing for the Way has grown ever stronger—almost to the point of distraction day and night, neglecting sleep and food. I earnestly wish to come in person before you and hear the true Way directly. Unfortunately, circumstances prevent me, and I cannot fulfill this wish—a matter of deep regret.

After I have “severed the Red Dragon” (in female alchemy practice, causing menstruation to cease and no longer return—often taken as a prerequisite for cultivation), no matter what price I must pay or what difficulties I encounter, I intend to come before you in person to pay homage and seek instruction. I beg my master to extend great compassion, taking pity on women (women in cultivation are often tied down by family obligations, their learning is often limited, and it is hard to find a clear-sighted teacher for guidance), and to transmit the secret oral formulas. If I should achieve anything in the future, it will all be your gift. Gratitude beyond what words can express. With this letter I offer my respects and wish you peace in the Way.

My situation is set out below:

( ) Cultivating at home.

( ) Married for several years; my spouse also cultivates the Way; we have long since cut off ordinary worldly attachment.

( ) I am twenty-four; my spouse is forty-eight and still in fair health. May I ask whether dual cultivation practice is feasible?

( ) My mother is still living; I have one younger brother and one younger sister; we have no children, and we have decided not to have children, lest it hinder the Way.

( ) Our household circumstances are still manageable.

( ) My husband also seeks instruction (or: my husband cultivates together with me; we seek instruction).

( ) My mother is still living; I have one younger brother and one younger sister; we have no children, and we have decided not to have children, lest it hinder the Way.

( ) Our household circumstances are still manageable.

( ) I have read some works from the Confucian, Buddhist, and Daoist traditions.

( ) I have more or less read books on women’s cultivation; unfortunately such books circulate very little outside, and demand far outstrips supply.

My aspiration is to be able to achieve “daytime ascension” (as Daoism describes, successful cultivation leading to ascending to heaven in the physical body) in the future. What I worry about is the changes in the world; if by any chance I encounter unexpected danger and my body is injured, then this goal cannot be reached. Were it not for this concern, my firm resolve could surpass that of men a hundredfold.

Yuan Dunzi’s appended note: Since you are a graduate of a women’s normal school, your Chinese must be quite good. The reason I ordinarily do not accept female disciples is that their level is too shallow and it is difficult for them to enter the gate. You are determined to study immortality and have read quite a lot, so naturally you are different from ordinary women from ordinary families. Now there is a topic that is very relevant to Xianxue (Immortal Studies, the Daoist study of cultivation to become an immortal). Please write an essay for the appreciation of fellow practitioners, with the following title: “On the Similarities and Differences of the Tenets of Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism, and Immortal Studies.”

Answering Thirteen Questions from a Certain Lady in Shanghai

Yuan Dunzi

Question One: In beginning to practice the exercises, are men and women the same?

Answer: According to the method that I ordinarily consider the most reliable and most sublime, at the initial stage men and women practice the same. As one progresses later, different states gradually appear; this is because men and women differ physiologically, which is a natural difference, not something artificially created.

Question Two: If one practices the exercise of “cutting the red dragon” (in women’s Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, the method of cutting off menstruation and refining blood into Qi), how many hours should one practice each day? How long does it take to completely cut off the red dragon? After it is completely cut off, what kind of practice should be done next? Are there stages in between?

Answer: If you wish to undertake formal practice of this kind of gongfu, you should do it four times a day, about two hours each session, for eight hours in all—that is, four double-hours (shichen). In favorable circumstances, half a year may be enough to refine menstruation away completely; in slower cases, about a year. After it has ceased, there are naturally further methods; beginners cannot yet speak of that stage. Only once menstruation has been refined away does this phase of the work count as finished. If you do not wish to go on, you may rest for several years without harm, but you must guard what you have gained in secrecy and sincerity (shoumi baozhen). Otherwise, even though menstruation has already stopped, it may return, and you will have to spend much more effort again.

Question 3: Is there an upper limit to how long one should practice each day? Is longer always better? When during the day is practice most suitable—or can one practice at any time without fixed hours?

Answer: Certain minor methods require practice at fixed hours; with superior methods, one need not be bound by the clock. Within the twelve double-hours of a day, filling four double-hours with practice is sufficient. Practicing too much easily breeds weariness and actually obstructs further progress. There is no fixed rule for the best time to practice. Only after a full meal, and when the body is tired or one wants to sleep, practice is inadvisable.

Question 4: In elixir cultivation (female neidan practice), should one eat vegetarian food, meat, or both without restriction? Are some foods to be avoided or favored? As for air and sunlight, does one need them in the same way as ordinary people?

Diet

A vegetarian diet, though pure and quiet, should not be overly bland and insipid; eating meat, though it can nourish and supplement, should not mean eating large amounts of fishy, rank foods. Among vegetarian foods, things like mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and fresh fungi may please the palate but easily invite illness, and are best avoided as far as possible. MSG, seasoning powders, concentrated soy sauce, and the like are all unsuitable to eat. If meat cannot be avoided, one may occasionally eat some chicken, duck, fish, and eggs; other kinds of meat are better touched as little as possible.

Environment

The air must be very clean, with no dust, coal smoke, or foul odors. Indoors should be ventilated; doors and windows should not be kept tightly shut. Natural sunlight is naturally beneficial, but in a quiet chamber the light should not be too bright—a slightly dimmer setting makes the spirit easier to settle; if one needs full sun exposure, one can go to an open place outdoors to receive it.

Age and cultivation

By the usual rule, for men around sixty-four and women around fifty, when tian gui (the reproductive essence) is nearly exhausted, it becomes hard to put serious effort again into ming gong (cultivation of the life aspect). But this is only a rigid formula and must not be taken as fixed truth. The wondrous arts of the immortals value returning to youth and creating something from nothing—using human effort to seize the creative power of nature. If one is always bound by age and waits helplessly for decline, then immortal arts are not worth much either. Those who obtain the true oral instructions often do not fix on calendar age; whether one can cultivate depends chiefly on the method and diligent practice, not on judging everything by years alone.

Question Six

Someone asked: In a bimonthly journal I read a claim that in cultivation a man should reach the stage of “not leaking essence” (jing), and a woman should reach “not leaking the monthly flow” (jing). Does “not leaking the monthly flow” refer specifically to the skill of “slaying the red dragon” (zhan chi long)? And what exactly does a man’s “not leaking essence” mean?

Answer

“For a woman, cultivation to the point of not leaking the monthly flow” does indeed mean the level of skill called “slaying the red dragon”—using internal refinement so menstruation ceases and no longer leaks outward with the cycle.

“For a man, cultivation to the point of not leaking essence” means broadly: no longer experiencing the various forms of essence loss—masturbatory emission, nocturnal emission, semen slipping out with urine, or emission during sexual union.

Question Seven

Cultivation is often divided into “nature work” (xing gong) and “life work” (ming gong). Among the three steps “refining essence into Qi,” “refining Qi into spirit” (Shen), and “refining spirit and returning to emptiness,” which step leans toward nature and which toward life? Or are all three counted as life work, with nature work taught separately?

Answer

In supreme practice, nature and life should not be split rigidly; calling a step “nature” or “life” is only a teaching device for beginners. If one must sketch an order for first steps: “refining essence into Qi” can provisionally be treated mainly as life work; “refining Qi into spirit” is half nature and half life; “refining spirit and returning to emptiness” leans more toward nature work.

Question Eight

If one “cultivates only nature and not life,” can one achieve long life? If not, how does the outcome differ from ordinary people? Also, is there a difference between “long life without death” and “ascending in broad daylight” (feather transformation in full daylight)?

(The source text given for this question carries no answer, so only the question is rendered in plain language here.)

Answer: The effect of long life comes fundamentally from practice on the “life” side (minggong). Without minggong, genuine longevity is out of the question. Those who cultivate only “nature” (xinggong) still differ from ordinary people—they may die without illness, know their time of death in advance, pass away in an instant while seated in meditation, or undergo rebirth or body transfer—but these are things ordinary people cannot do. Even so, “living long without dying” is only an initial sign; “ascending in broad daylight” (becoming an immortal and departing visibly in daylight) is the ultimate aim. The distance between shallow and deep attainment is very great.

Question nine: Dan scriptures list Fa (method), Cai (resources), Lü (companion), and Di (place) as the four essentials. As for Cai (dancai, the material support needed for cultivation)—if one wants it fully adequate, how much is needed at most? And at minimum?

Answer: Your question concerns how things are actually done, not idle talk. It must be spelled out by situation:

(1) By Shanghai living costs at the time: rent about forty yuan a month, food about thirty, pocket money about thirty—about one hundred yuan a month in all is enough. Go lower and fifty yuan a month is roughly the floor; below that it would be hard to keep going.

(2) If one leaves Shanghai for a smaller city where life is cheaper, fifty yuan a month there can match about one hundred in Shanghai: rent fifteen, food fifteen, pocket twenty—a reasonably comfortable life in the provinces.

(3) If one leaves the city and stays at a mountain temple or monastery run by renunciant clergy, with lodging and meals provided by the community, thirty yuan a month suffices.

Plain-Language Explanation

(1) Personal versus group expenses

Everything above is estimated for one person living alone. When several people live and practice together as a group, total costs can usually be spread out: the more people there are, the lower the cost per person tends to be; the fewer people, the higher the cost per person. That is an inverse relationship.

(2) The author’s view of “groups”

I also usually recommend forming groups and practicing together, mainly to help fellow practitioners save on expenses. But the right conditions are not ripe yet; we still have to wait.

(3) Hardship versus comfort, and a “middle” level of living expenses

Some people can endure hardship, so expenses can be pushed lower; some want comfort, so expenses must go up. The figures estimated earlier refer to living costs at a neither harsh nor luxurious, middle level.

Medical costs, social and courtesy expenses, and travel costs are not included. All household expenses for parents, wife, and the like in one’s own family are also outside the scope of this discussion.

Question ten: Suppose conditions allow it, one can set aside worldly duties, the will is firm, and there are no unexpected obstacles—roughly how many years would it take to complete the practice?

Answer: (The original text here has missing characters; the gist is asking “how many years.”)

Answer: First tune and nourish the body until it is restored to a healthy, disease-free state—about three years. “Zhan chilong” (in nüdan, female alchemy, this refers to stopping menstruation and the related work of refining the “red dragon,” i.e. menstrual blood and its transformation) takes about two years. After that, one can only judge case by case as things unfold; it cannot be fixed in advance. And this is said with you in mind; for someone else, the situation would need to be assessed anew.

Question eleven: People who practice elixir refinement often also train in boxing (martial arts). May I ask whether boxing is harmful or helpful to Dandao (the path of internal alchemy)?

(This question is not yet answered in the excerpt; if the full book answers later, the original should be read on for the reply.)

Note: In the excerpt, a phrase that reads like “huifu jiantan budao” should be “huifu jiankang, budao……” (restore health, not reaching……)—likely a slip of the pen or missing characters; “youyi deng” should be “youyi ye” (is it beneficial or not?). The explanation above follows the intended sense of the text.

Answer: If practicing martial arts can align with your own natural constitution, there may be some benefit; if you train harshly and forcefully, you will inevitably harm the body. Each person’s constitution differs, so one cannot generalize. Given your present condition, martial arts probably do not suit you well; it seems better to focus on dedicated quiet cultivation.

Question Twelve: In the elixir path (dandao) there is solitary cultivation (guxiu, practicing alone) and dual cultivation (shuangxiu, male–female joint practice). What are the pros and cons of each, and which is faster or slower?

Answer: This large question has been debated from the Han dynasty to the present without a settled verdict. Because environment, family, age, era, custom, ritual teaching, law, morality, religious faith, scholarly interests, gender, root capacity (genqi—innate talent and endowment), and mode of transmission differ without limit, the path naturally splits in two, and I cannot favor one side. I have read hundreds of books devoted solely to dual cultivation or solely to solitary cultivation; over thirty-seven years I have also seen and heard countless people who practice dual cultivation exclusively or solitary cultivation exclusively. Solitary cultivation has its pros and cons; dual cultivation has its pros and cons. For me to rank them or pass judgment would truly be impossible to state in one blanket way.

Section 1 (On “dual cultivation” and “solo cultivation”)

If someone goes on about dual cultivation and looks down on solo practice—as if only people with ample means, or married lay practitioners with a spouse and a master’s support, were fit for that path—what are those without money and monastic cultivators supposed to do? Among them there may well be people of real capacity. To insist that “without money you cannot cultivate; you must first raise a huge sum,” or “monastics cannot cultivate; they must leave the monastery first,” is the sort of talk that most easily douses the spirit of the willing and shortens heroic resolve—I cannot bear to say much more on it. For what is left unsaid, see Yangshan Journal issue 74, page 6, answers to Suzhou Zhang Daochu’s third, fourth, and sixth questions, and issue 76, page 8, the exchange with a certain physician of Chinese medicine on the elixir path.

Section 2 (Human affairs first, then the elixir path)

Let us set the elixir path aside and speak only of human affairs: living a few decades in this world—is marriage better or not? That question was never easy to settle in one phrase. Marriage has gains and losses; cases are very mixed. You cannot rule by a despotic eye and a dictatorial mindset and expect people to accept it. Those who only value solitary practice or only value dual cultivation, measuring all by themselves and allowing no middle ground, belong to that same tendency toward arbitrary judgment.

Question 13

Must elixir work require complete abstinence from sexual activity? Or is moderation in desire enough? Or is sexual relations unrelated to the elixir path?

Answer: Whether one is male or female, if in daily life one holds to “singleness” and neither marries nor pairs with anyone, there is little need to discuss this topic. Only those who already have a spouse can meaningfully study it in this regard.

What is meant by jueyu (complete abstinence from sexual activity) is the thorough cutting off of marital relations. This requires voluntary agreement on both sides; if one party is unwilling, it cannot be done.

What is meant by jieyu (moderation of desire) is restraint without excess—closer to ordinary human feelings and easier to practice. For dedicated Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation, however, it still somewhat gets in the way.

Worldly relations between men and women are crude in the extreme, no different from lower animals; compared with the path of immortals, the gap is vast. If one does not seek within this domain another subtle method of practice—the way of nixing zaohua (reversing the flow of essence and Qi to refine the elixir)—and merely inherits the base impulses passed down from human ancestors, acting rashly, how can one leap out of the wheel of rebirth and break the fixed pattern of birth, aging, sickness, and death?

Because your consent has not yet been obtained, your name is not printed. If you see no objection, in a future Q&A you may, like Madame Chen Wuxuan of Baoying, give permission and have your real name published.

Letter and questions from a lady in Anyang, Henan

Respected Master Yuandunzi:

Previously I submitted a letter and was fortunate enough to receive your reply in the Yangshan Journal (the periodical then publishing articles on Immortal Studies [xianxue]). After respectfully reading it, I was delighted beyond measure. Your statements that “the more impatient one is, the less effective it will be; one should wait for favorable conditions to converge,” and that “only when blessings and wisdom are both complete can one complete the Dao (the Way; attain the Dao),” are indeed utterly true and a principle that will not change for a hundred generations. In the final paragraph you discussed the method of dual cultivation. Although Master did not explain the oral formula, I was still able to grasp something of its meaning; I felt as if awakening from a dream and as if a blockage had suddenly cleared, and I never forget my gratitude.

As for the topic set by Master, “On the Similarities and Differences of the Tenets of the Four Schools—Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism, and the Immortal School,” and his instruction that I write an essay for fellow devotees of the Dao to read, I know that my abilities are unequal to the task. Although I have read a little of the books of the four schools, I have not studied any of them in detail. The Confucian loyalty and reciprocity, the Buddhist compassion, the Daoist resonance-and-response, and the Immortal School’s temperament—if one is not broadly learned and richly experienced, how would one dare to discuss them rashly? Therefore I dare not expose my ineptitude, lest I make a fool of myself before experts and let down your high expectations. An appended question: Earlier I read item six of the general rules in Annotated Poems on Women’s Alchemy by Sun Bu’er (the annotated edition of the elixir poems by Sun Bu’er, a female Daoist priest of Quanzhen [Complete Perfection]). In it, it says, “For women cultivating immortality, apart from Tianyuan fushi (the ingestion method in the Tianyuan elixir method), there are obstacles in practice.” I do not quite understand the section on “Tianyuan fushi” and respectfully ask for your instruction. Yuan Dun answers: Regarding the teaching of Tianyuan fushi, you may first look at the passage describing the Danyang Chenmu lineage (a Daoist Neidan [internal alchemy] lineage) in “Letter to Physician Zhu Changya on Immortal Studies” in the Theory Research section of this issue.

Yuandun’s reply: On the teaching of “Tianyuan fu shi” (Heaven-origin ingestion), you may first read the passage on the Danyang Zhenmu lineage in “On Correspondence with Physician Zhu Changya on Immortal Studies,” in this issue’s “Studies in Theory” section; then see the third question in “Fifteen Questions Answered for Mr. Zhang Daochu of Suzhou,” on page six of issue seventy-four of Yangshan Kan, for a general picture.

Letter from a Lady in Shanghai and the Q&A

Yuandunzi

(Omitted earlier) Around three in the morning on June twenty-sixth, shortly after I settled into seated meditation, I felt warmth in the “haidi” (the perineum and lower Dantian region). After a while the navel wheel and breasts also grew warm, while the “dingmen” (crown gate) at the top of the head and both feet grew hot with a wriggling sensation.

When stillness deepened to the utmost, I would enter a hundun (chaotic, undifferentiated) state, but only briefly. This repeated about six times.

On the seventh round, the whole body suddenly tightened, as if under anesthesia; even breathing felt unnatural. Head and chest were extremely hot, almost sweating; the weilü (tail gate) and spine felt a heavy downward drag that was hard to bear. I then applied the “Three Non-Movement Method” (san budong fa); after about twenty minutes things gradually loosened and breathing returned to normal.

The above occurred on the third day after menstruation, similar in timing to what I reported in person last time—last time was also on the third day after the period; last time there was sweating, this time not yet to that degree, but the episode lasted longer.

Five appended questions

Question 1: Before and after each menstrual period I often feel warm qi rising, swelling, and wriggling in the “sea of blood” and the yin region, with numbness and soreness in both legs. Is this true yin stirring? Sometimes even when I try to gather it with intention, I cannot hold it. I beg for the oral formula to follow so that nothing is lost beyond remedy.

Answer 1 (first reply)

This pattern resembles the signs of “true yin” stirring, yet the vital qi still seems not fully vigorous—as if it is drawn back again. I ask the master to explain the oral formula for “gathering” (collecting and not letting it leak outward), so that essence and qi do not scatter and become hard to remedy afterward.

Answer 1 (continued)

This is still like true yin stirring, only the strength is not yet enough. To draw it back is not difficult; coping with the “Three Non-Movements” method is sufficient.

Question 2

When mentally circulating the microcosmic orbit: qi rises from weilu (the tailbone gate) to the crown gate, then descends from the crown—where should it stop on the way down? Is there a rule for speed of ascent and descent? May one circulate the orbit during menstruation?

Answer 2

From the crown, descend to the “uterus” region (the lower dantian area; in female elixir practice this often means the place where one inwardly aligns with the womb) and stop there. At first, ascent and descent should be slow rather than fast. During menstruation it is better not to circulate the orbit; sitting meditation is fine.

Question 3

Can one practice the “Nine Turn Body Refinement Method” from the Ten Precepts of Female Elixir exactly as the book describes?

Answer 3

If you wish to try the movements in the book, you may, but you must be careful and not force anything. It is best that body and mind stay in natural harmony; if you cannot match it, doing less is better than doing too much—never overdo it!

Question 4

When saliva wells in the mouth, where should one swallow it?

Answer 4

Swallow it into the stomach, just as when drinking tea. If someone claims there is another destination, that is a failure to understand human physiology—do not believe it.

Question 5

My weak constitution has gradually improved. May you transmit the formal oral formula for “Slaying the Red Dragon” (the female elixir gate often tied to stopping menstrual flow and refining the form), so I may cultivate by it and advance in practice?

Answer Five: You may begin by studying the methods for “duan long” (stopping menstrual flow—the key skill in female elixir cultivation) in Nü Gong Zheng Fa (Correct Methods of Female Practice) and Nü Dan Shi Ze (Ten Rules of Female Elixir). When convenient, you may try them, but you must proceed gently and never force the body, lest improper practice bring illness instead of benefit. After about thirty months of trial, assess how things stand. If anything changes in the meantime, you may report by letter or discuss in person; if there is deviation, correct it promptly.

On Immortality Studies — Letter to Physician Zhu Changya

Yuandunzi

Dear Physician Changya,

I recently received your wife Yizhu’s letter and four poems. I learn that your aspirations rise above the ordinary and that you have turned toward the Way of immortality—quite unlike those who cling to present habit and ignore the long view. I admire this greatly. In your fourth poem you write: “The human world has its own extraordinary sons and daughters, who resolve to soar and ascend the nine heavens.” I agree most with these two lines. The matter is exceedingly difficult and not easily achieved, yet browsing the biographies of listed immortals, every dynasty has had a few who succeeded—so it is not utterly without hope. Even if all the old books prove false today, we might still blaze a new path ourselves; how much more so when our predecessors left models we can follow.

This passage explains that for more than two hundred years under the Qing, talented men across the country were largely confined by the eight-legged essay and the civil service examination system, while intelligent women were tightly bound by traditional ritual propriety. As for studies such as immortality cultivation and internal alchemy (Neidan), people not only dared not test them in their own lives—they barely dared speak of them: one was not allowed to seek teachers or visit friends for such learning, nor to read the relevant books.

(The author writes in the first person: around the age of ten, he loved reading Ge Hong’s Shenxian zhuan [Biographies of Immortals] in the Han Wei congshu collection, but did not dare let elders know; if discovered, he would surely face severe scolding.)

Thus the dutiful and conventional mostly leaned toward Confucianism, while those who wished to transcend the world turned to Buddhism. Confucianism, though closer to ordinary human feeling, often degenerated into stubborn, pedantic rigidity; Buddhism appeared lofty on the surface, yet its weakness lay in not taking real human life seriously. (Buddhism treats life as illusory and thereby despises the physical body—yet “ clothing, food, shelter, and travel” are closely tied to the body, and one cannot truly escape them. On one hand everything is said to be empty; on the other one must still manage and pursue daily needs—a major contradiction.)

Daoism has traditionally been spoken of as two major branches. One is the Zhengyi (Orthodox Unity) school, the Celestial Master (Tianshi) line known for Fulu (talismans and registers), Zhaijiao (purification ritual), and related observances. The other is the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) order, which stresses Neidan (internal alchemy) and strict monastic discipline. Zhengyi arose earlier; Quanzhen rose to prominence only after the Yuan dynasty. Both have long since waned in influence, and there is little need to dwell on them here.

I have pursued xiuxian—the study of cultivation aimed at longevity and transcendence—for more than thirty years. Those who know me understand what I am after; those who do not may ask why anyone would still advocate such things in an age of advanced science. I am not promoting superstition. I believe this discipline can fill gaps in human life that ordinary means cannot, and that in many respects it reaches further than what people usually call “science.” Where conventional science stops, xiuxian often opens a practical path—worked through step by step on the ground, not in the air. That sets it apart from Confucianism, which beyond being virtuous and doing one’s duty offers little way out of the mundane world; from Buddhism, which beyond chanting the Buddha’s name and cultivating pure karma offers little full method for body and mind together; from Zhengyi Daoism’s tilt toward drawing talismans and chanting spells; and from Quanzhen Daoism’s tilt toward repentance services and scripture recitation.

The immortality arts thus have a character of their own. They are not wholly contained within Confucianism, Buddhism, or Daoism as those traditions are usually framed—yet nothing prevents scholars in any of the three from taking up this study if they choose.

Since antiquity, Confucian scholars who pursued the path of immortality—for example Liu Xiang, the great Han Confucian, and Shao Yong of the Song (styled Kangjie). Buddhists who did the same included the Song Chan master Xue Daoguang and the Qing Chan master Liu Huayang. Those in the Daoist line who sought immortality are beyond counting. There were also Wang Ziqiao, once crown prince to King Ling of Zhou; Dongfang Shuo, a favorite of Emperor Wu of Han; Ma Mingsheng, a minor clerk in Qi; Yin Changsheng, a Han aristocrat; Wei Boyang, a hidden sage; Zuo Yuancheng, a master of esoteric methods; Lü Chunyang, a jinshi of the Tang; Liu Haichan, a prime minister of Yan; Zhongli Quan, formerly a general; and Zhang Sanfeng, who had been a county magistrate. In folk tradition, all of these are counted as immortals. Yet every one of them practiced at home as laypeople—not as monastics. They were not only not Buddhist monks; they would not even qualify as ordained Daoist priests or as Confucians in the Kong–Meng line. Later ages blended immortal lore with the teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism, so that the original face of immortality has become hard to discern.

It is like covering fair skin with every bright pigment and calling it beautiful—in the eyes of those with true refinement, it only invites mockery.

You have studied in the United States for many years, so a scientific habit of mind needs no mention, and you surely know modern medicine well. Where others might easily grow proud, you have only grown more humble. Knowing that birth and death are the great matter, and that medicine alone cannot settle it, you have gone further to seek the learning of immortals and to cherish aspirations beyond the ordinary. Unless one’s roots from past lives are deep and one’s native endowment sharp, who could arrive at such a point?

Chen Wuxuan of Baoying once asked me: “Among women who are blessed with both merit and wisdom and who may hope to attain the Way in future—who are there in the women’s world today?”

I replied: People who truly combine merit and wisdom are already rare; if one also seeks the Way and can realistically expect achievement, such women are hard to find in our time, and I am still searching with care. Now that I have met you, there may yet be others who could meet such hopes.

At present you are burdened by medical work and have not yet reached the stage of focused, practical cultivation, so it is best to clarify the theory first. Below I briefly set out the essential points for women’s cultivation, for you to read. This piece is also published in Yangshan Journal for fellow seekers of the Way nationwide to consult—thus fulfilling Yizhu’s wish.

The study of immortality (xianxue) prizes long life above all; the idea of longevity is ancient. Laozi speaks of “deep roots and a firm stem” (shen’gen gudi—anchoring the root and securing the base); Zhuangzi speaks of “guarding unity and harmony” (shou yi chu he). The Suwen (Plain Questions, a classic of Chinese medicine) says that the True Person (Zhenren) may live as long as heaven and earth; the Perfected Person (Zhiren) can gather essence (Jing) and complete spirit (Shen); the Sage’s body long remains unspoiled. Yet though the theory is in the books, the concrete methods are not fully recorded—a regret for students. Only after works such as the Cantong Qi (Token of the Unity of the Three) and the Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Scripture)—early classics of internal alchemy (Neidan)—did the immortality tradition have dedicated texts on refinement and nurture. From the Tang and Song onward, alchemical scriptures multiplied, but they often use hidden language and alternate names, hard to decipher; side paths and divergent methods each speak their own way, so people lose the road home. Even the stages of men’s practice are not easy to sort out—how much more so the secret essentials of women’s cultivation?

Shangyangzi, a Daoist Neidan master, says: For a woman cultivating immortality, the breasts are regarded as the place where life-giving Qi gathers; she must first accumulate Qi between the two breasts, then “establish the furnace and set up the cauldron” (a metaphor for fixing the site of cultivation and the firing time), and practice the method of “Taiyin refining the form” (a female Neidan practice). The alchemical classics often say, “Men cultivate to the point of no leakage of Jing; women cultivate to the point of no leakage of menstruation,” but just how Qi can be accumulated and how menstruation can be made not to leak are never clearly explained. The Huangting Jing says: the one who transmits is called teacher, and the recipient must swear a covenant; hand in hand they climb the mountain and drink the elixir liquid to seal the oath, and important elixir instructions must be recorded in golden writing and jade slips before they may be revealed. The Cantong Qi says: to write the essential purport on bamboo and silk is to fear leaking the heavenly tally (heavenly secrets); it also says that “three-five and one” (the essential formula of the elixir from the finest essences of Heaven and Earth) may be transmitted orally but is hard to transmit in writing. Thus it is clear that practitioners have kept things secret and not transmitted them lightly, and this did not begin only today.

The reasons the oral instructions are not lightly transmitted are, in detail, fifteen kinds; these have already appeared in the successive installments of “A Record of Hooking the Profound in Oral Instructions” in the Yangshan Semi-Monthly, so I will not repeat them. Briefly, the main points are: First, that where there is life there must be death is the constant principle of creation, whereas immortal studies put long life and deathlessness first and contend with creation for authority; to recklessly divulge and speak of them at random might invite calamity and blame (modern people may regard this as superstition, but earlier generations did have this mentality). Second, the distinction between heterodox and orthodox is extremely subtle: “When a heterodox person practices orthodox methods, all orthodox methods turn heterodox”; oral instructions are not recorded in books for fear that heterodox people might obtain them. Third, they are not easily obtained, and so transmission is also not easy; this is true of the hundred arts, and especially true of elixir instructions. Fourth, the Dao may be appropriately made manifest so that the world knows such a thing exists; but the concrete methods should be reserved and cautious, so that the teacher’s position may forever preserve its dignity. Fifth, in the world there are few who truly have the “Dharma eye” that can recognize the true method; precisely because those who can appraise the goods are few, the transmission of oral instructions must be even more cautious.

Three

The formulas of the elixir are hard to come by, and passing them on is all the more difficult. This is true of every craft, and especially so for the oral secrets of internal alchemy (Neidan).

Four

The Dao may be made known in measure so that people learn such a path truly exists in the world; the concrete “methods” (shu), however, are better guarded with restraint and transmitted with care, so that the lineage’s name and standing are not lightly diminished.

Five

Few in the world possess eyes that truly recognize the law; those who can clearly distinguish yin from yang are scarce. If such matters are not deeply hidden within secret transmission, they are easily open to slander and attack.

Six

As the transmitter intends, the aim is to guide those with karmic affinity. If judgment fails for a moment, the recipient may treat the oral secrets as rare merchandise for trade—contrary to the giver’s intent—so they dare not transmit lightly.

Everything above about reasons for hidden, non-public teaching refers to orthodox lineages. As for wandering technicians who gather wealth under the name of transmitting the Dao, they are not included here. Out of deep compassion that people chase only what is below form and forget to return, Yuan Dun once wished to break through the ancients’ barriers and lay bare what was hidden, so that the outstanding and high-minded would not misapply their cleverness and fall into danger; yet affairs went against the heart, and the wish remained empty. Today one can only speak of what may be spoken.

First, the schools of women’s cultivation.

Historically, elixir instructions (danjue) have emphasized oral transmission from master to disciple and were not recorded in books, and this is especially true of women’s elixir instructions. Today, if one wishes to thoroughly investigate their origins and development and make them into a systematic field of study, it is no easy task. Examining the earlier Daoist methods of division: some divide by figures, such as Di Changchun’s “Longmen school,” Hao Taigu’s “Huashan school,” Sun Bu’er’s “Qingjing school,” and so on; some divide by region, such as the Northern Seven Perfected school, the Suo Five Patriarchs school, Lu Qianxu’s Eastern school, Li Hanxu’s Western school, and so on. But such divisions do not apply to women’s elixir instructions, and they are merely divisions of teaching lineages and sectarian affiliations, not a classification made according to methodological principles. In my view, the schools of women’s elixir instructions should not be divided by figures or by region; they should be divided according to methods of cultivation. Only then will research be interesting and will it be convenient for students to investigate and seek.

I now tentatively list them as follows.

The first is the Zhongtiao Laomu school. The Northern school begins with sword techniques. Sword techniques have two functions: the “Dharma sword” and the “Dao sword.” Their origins are roughly seen in the Complete Works of Patriarch Lü. In modern Daoist circles there are two orally transmitted verses on internal sword cultivation, from which one may still get a glimpse. Because the method of cultivation is very difficult, few in the world today can succeed in it. But this method can form a school of its own within the way of immortality, and those who study schools cannot fail to acknowledge it. (Zhongtiao Mountain is in Yongji County, Shanxi.)

The second is the Danyang Chenmu school. This section concludes after listing the name of the second school in the classification of women’s elixir instructions by method, the “Danyang Chenmu school.”

This lineage of Dao places special emphasis on the cultivation and ingestion of the heavenly origin golden elixir (Neidan refined and taken with the primordial yuan spirit as its foundation), while also practicing methods such as talismans, spells, and register summons. Danyang is a place name; Zhen Mu is a personal name. In the Jin dynasty, Wu Meng was originally the teacher of Xu Xun (Master Xu the True Lord); later Xu Xun received the full transmission from Zhen Mu, and Wu Meng, by Zhen Mu’s command, in turn took Xu Xun as his teacher. Master Xu the True Lord authored Stone Case Record (Shihan Ji); True Lord Wu wrote Copper Talisman and Iron Voucher Inscription (Tongfu Tiequanjuan Wen). Both works treat the heavenly origin golden elixir—the very teaching transmitted by Zhen Mu. Within the alchemical tradition, these two books rank among the finest works.