《悟真篇阐幽》

The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) was written by Zhang Pingshu, known as Perfected Ziyang, a native of Tiantai in the Song dynasty. Perfected Ziyang continued the lineage of the patriarch Liu of Haichan and was the first patriarch of the Southern School of Daoism. Taking pity on people who did not understand the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir—the fundamental path of Daoist Neidan practice—and so strayed into lesser paths, he wrote this book in the hope that practitioners would investigate principle, fully understand their nature, and ultimately cultivate the root of life.

The book’s ideas derive from the Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing, and its style of explanation broadly follows the Zhouyi Cantong Qi. Fearing that he might disclose Heaven’s secrets, the author did not dare explain them directly. Instead, he used images such as medicines, furnace and vessel, and the timing of the firing process; he also used terms such as Qian and Kun, Kan and Li, the Dragon and Tiger, and lead and mercury to convey principles of cultivation. Sadly, the more earnestly he explained, the harder it became for people to understand. In fact, what is called “the real” is the true nature and life that everyone inherently possesses.

In the prenatal state, nature and life are originally one; in the postnatal state, they must be cultivated together. Broadly speaking, deliberate practice cultivates life, while the Dao of Wuwei cultivates nature. When both nature and life have been cultivated, one returns to the state originally complete within oneself: deliberate action is itself Wuwei, and the postnatal is itself the prenatal. This is what is called the unsurpassed, utmost true Dao.

When the meaning of the book’s many images and parables is lost, they seem entirely illusory; when their meaning is grasped, they all reveal true principles. To speak of “the real” is already to include both nature and life. To speak of “awakening” is to include investigating principle, understanding nature, and continuing through to the cultivation of life.

The book as a whole can be broadly divided into the School of Nature and the School of Life. The School of Nature speaks of the wondrous source of awareness that transcends the distinction between sage and ordinary person, and which anyone may hear about. The School of Life teaches the methods of Golden Elixir cultivation that transcend the ordinary and bring about sagehood; these are difficult to grasp without a true teacher. In recent times, some practitioners of lesser paths have added unfounded commentaries and misled later students. The basest interpretations even turn cultivation toward Waidan furnace techniques; the more sophisticated ones merely emphasize cultivating one aspect alone. As a result, Zhang Boduan’s original intent has long been obscured. Now Heaven does not begrudge the Great Dao, so I have ventured to reveal in full the true essentials transmitted by my teacher, in order to clarify what is profound and difficult to understand.

This book originally had a certain order of arrangement, but later that order was often disrupted, leaving the contents disjointed and far removed from their original form. I have carefully consulted the version in the Daoist Canon and revised the text according to the stages of cultivating the Golden Elixir through the returning elixir of golden liquid, a Neidan method centered on refining the Golden Elixir.

Upper Volume

Sixteen Poems of Seven Words and Four Rhymes

“Sixteen Poems of Seven Words and Four Rhymes” means that each poem consists of lines of seven characters, and that there are sixteen poems in all. “Two eights make one catty” is a traditional numerological expression for the quantities used in elixir refinement.

If you do not seek the Great Dao and leave the path of delusion, then however gifted you may be, how could you be called a true great man?

A hundred years pass in the blink of an eye, like sparks struck from stone; the circumstances of a lifetime drift uncertainly, like bubbles on water.

People crave fame and wealth, yet may never attain prominence. Before they know it, their faces and bodies have already secretly withered and declined.

Ask yourself: can heaps of gold and silver buy freedom from death? When impermanence arrives, gold and silver are of no help.

This chapter speaks of the brevity of ordinary human life and the swift arrival of impermanence—something that should truly awaken us.

Life may seem to promise a hundred years, but whether one dies young or lives long, struggles or prospers, cannot be known in advance.

Yesterday you were still riding at speed through the streets; today you are already lying in a coffin, a corpse.

After death, neither wife nor possessions belong to you. Your karmic offenses follow you, and you cannot deceive yourself or escape them.

If you do not actively seek the “Great Medicine”—here, the Golden Elixir—how could you hope to encounter it? And even if you encounter it but do not cultivate it, you are acting foolishly.

This chapter says that people should diligently cultivate the Great Medicine in order to transcend worldly life and death.

The lines “Wife and wealth, once abandoned, are no longer yours; karmic offenses follow you, and you cannot deceive yourself. If you do not seek the Great Medicine, how could you encounter it? To encounter it and not cultivate it is foolishness” appear once more in the text. The commentary considers this repetition an intentional warning from the patriarch, echoing the first chapter’s line, “Today you already lie dead in a coffin,” and serving as the opening to its discussion of the Golden Elixir Great Dao.

The first chapter speaks of life and death as matters of the utmost importance, and of how swiftly impermanence arrives. Whatever one’s lifespan or circumstances, it is difficult to escape the cycle of birth and death and the consequences of karma. The second chapter says that those who wish to leave this cycle and dispel their karmic offenses must cultivate the Great Medicine. The “Great Dao” mentioned in the first chapter broadly encompasses the practice of probing the principles of things, fully manifesting one’s innate nature, and understanding the roots of life. The “Great Medicine” in the second chapter refers chiefly to the Golden Elixir. The Great Dao describes the practice as a whole, while the Great Medicine emphasizes the effects of cultivation. To transcend the mundane, the Golden Elixir is regarded as the most direct path. Therefore, those who wish to seek a teacher and cultivate the Golden Elixir Great Medicine to transcend life and death should treat this as an urgent means of relief from the suffering of life and death, and not delay.

Those who study how to become immortals must study the celestial immortals—cultivators who seek to transcend life and death, attain the Dao, and become immortal—and the Golden Elixir is regarded as the surest method of cultivation.

Among the methods for saving the world and guiding people to deliverance, cultivating the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is the most direct path. So those who wish to transcend the mundane world should seek out a master and cultivate the great medicine of the Golden Elixir. This concerns liberation from life and death—how could one delay?

In cultivating immortality, one should pursue the way of the Celestial Immortal. The Golden Elixir is its most correct and essential method. When Yin and Yang come together, human feelings and nature are brought into harmony; where the Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water—are complete, the Dragon and Tiger coil together and merge.

Earth, represented by Wu and Ji, serves as the intermediary that brings Yin and Yang together, like husband and wife living in harmony for many years. Once cultivation is complete, one need only pay homage at the Jade Palace in heaven, then ride a luan bird upward through the radiance of the nine rosy clouds.

This chapter makes clear that the Golden Elixir is the path practitioners of the Dao should follow. The “Great Dao” mentioned in the first chapter and the “Great Medicine” in the second both refer to the Golden Elixir; they were previously described indirectly, without being named outright. This chapter explains them plainly.

When people speak of learning to become an immortal, they usually take the arts of refining yellow and white substances, sexual cultivation, breathing exercises, physical practices, moving Jing and Qi, or circulating the breath to be the path to immortality. This understanding is shallow and not worth discussing at length. People also hear that Daoism recognizes five ranks of immortals—heavenly, earthly, spirit, human, and ghost immortals—arranged in a clear hierarchy. Buddhism, meanwhile, speaks of ten kinds of immortals who may live for millions of years but still fall once their karmic blessings are exhausted. Faced with such varied claims, practitioners often do not know which path to follow.

In truth, there is only one path to the supreme, perfected Dao: that of the heavenly immortal. The “heavenly immortal” meant here is neither one of the five ranks of immortals who retain their bodily form, dwell in the world, and live on the Ten Continents and Three Islands, nor an immortal of the kind described in Buddhism, who has not attained perfect awakening and falls after their blessings run out. It means the supreme immortal. Nor does “heaven” here mean the heavens of the Desire Realm and Form Realm, where ordinary beings remain subject to birth, death, and afflictions. It also does not mean the heavens reached by outsiders who cultivate the “neither perception nor non-perception” concentration and enter the Formless Realm, free themselves from the constraints of bodily form, cling to emptiness, or exhaust the state of stillness and void, yet fail to escape the cycle of rebirth. This is Heaven in the highest sense, the Heaven pointed to by the highest truth.

Consider the Qian hexagram in the Book of Changes: Qian symbolizes Heaven. Qian is pure Yang—wholly refined and unified, firm and strong, and imperishable. It symbolizes the adamantine, abiding Dharma-nature (the true nature that does not change or decay), as well as the primordial Shen that remains undestroyed through countless kalpas. Thus, calling Qian “Heaven” because the celestial body is pure Yang has nothing in common with the various heavens within the Three Realms. And calling Qian “Metal” because metal is firm and strong does not refer to ordinary metal in the world.

From this we can see that a heavenly immortal is a Metal Immortal, one who attains realization through cultivating the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir. “Metal” refers to the indestructible Dharma-body (the true body beyond birth and death); “Elixir” refers to fully realized suchness (the true nature of all things). The Great Dao of the Golden Elixir begins with deliberate cultivation and ultimately reaches Wuwei (non-action). It resolves the fundamental problems of embodied life while also cultivating the mind and nature; only then are both form and spirit fully realized.

“Gold,” a metaphor for the indestructible Dharma body, refers to the life essence that cannot be damaged. “Elixir,” the perfected reality achieved through internal alchemy, refers to the true state of complete attainment. The Great Way of the Golden Elixir begins with deliberate cultivation and proceeds to Wuwei (non-action). It cultivates both life and nature, ultimately bringing body and spirit to subtle perfection. This is the highest state of fully expressing one’s nature and completing one’s life. Those who study the Dao should set this direction as their first step, so they can find the true point of entry. Thus it is said: “If you study immortality, you must study the immortals of Heaven; the Golden Elixir alone is the true and ultimate way.”

From beginning to end, Golden Elixir cultivation depends on the two forces represented by the Kan and Li trigrams. The postcelestial Kan and Li correspond to the precelestial Qian and Kun. From the precelestial perspective, they are nature and life; from the postcelestial perspective, they are nature and emotion. At root, they are body and mind. The mind is originally pure Yang, corresponding to the nature represented by the precelestial Qian trigram. Yet it contains an essence of utmost Yin, which responds to external things and undergoes change; thus nature turns into desire and emotion. The Yin line within the Li trigram is like wood hidden in fire. The body is originally pure Yin, corresponding to the life represented by the precelestial Kun trigram. Yet it contains Qi of utmost Yang, which remains still in quietude, allowing the root of life to transform back into nature. The Yang line within the Kan trigram is like metal hidden in water. When Kan and Li interact, emotion and nature naturally come together.

Metal is firm and fierce, not easily provoked, and is symbolized by the tiger. Wood is gentle and brings benefit to all things, and is symbolized by the dragon. Water and fire are the underlying substances of Kan and Li; metal and wood are the emotional and natural qualities they display in operation. When metal and wood unite and water and fire mingle, the two forces gather in the Central Palace, the area in the middle of the body used in internal alchemy. The Qi of the Five Phases is then brought to completion. Thus it is said: “When the two things meet, emotion and nature unite; where the Five Phases are complete, tiger and dragon coil together.”

Body and mind occupy inner and outer positions and cannot immediately become one. They need the True Intention of Central Yellow, the focused awareness that harmonizes and guides cultivation, to bring them into accord. The two Earths, Wu and Ji, are this True Intention. Once the True Intention links body and mind, they become one, and emotion and nature joyfully unite. This is like a matchmaker bringing husband and wife together in harmony. Thus it is said: “Wu and Ji serve as matchmakers, bringing husband and wife into lasting union.” From then on, the Three Families—body, mind, and True Intention—meet and form the Sacred Embryo, the spiritual foundation spoken of in internal alchemy. The Golden Elixir is thereby refined.

Continue the work of gentle nurturing, refining and nourishing again and again. After nine cycles, the work is complete, and the Golden Elixir shines forth. It rises against the current from the Great Mystery Pass, reaches the Celestial Valley Acupoint, and enters directly into the sacred realm of Great Clarity. Is this not like paying court at the Jade Palace, riding a luan bird, and roaming freely beyond the Ninefold Rosy Clouds, in the distant realm of the immortals? This describes the Golden Elixir’s symbolic transformation, in which it leaves its former womb and changes its vessel; it does not mean that the mortal body ascends to Heaven. Of all paths to becoming a Celestial Immortal, the most proper and essential is the path of the Golden Elixir. This chapter reveals that the Golden Elixir is the guiding principle of the entire book; what follows will explain its function in detail.

Of the three words “Three-Five-One,” few people from antiquity to the present have truly understood them.

The East corresponds to three, and the South to two; together they make five. The North corresponds to one, and the West to four; these, too, make five.

Wu and Ji occupy the center, and their own number is five. When the three families meet, they form an infant—the symbolic “holy embryo” produced through internal alchemy.

From this we can understand that Great Unity (Taiyi), a Daoist name symbolizing the primordial Qi, contains true Qi, the pure, precelestial energy. After ten months of gentle nurturing, the holy embryo matures and reaches completion, becoming the foundation for entering the sacred realm.

This chapter explains that the principles governing change in Golden Elixir cultivation are rooted in the teachings expressed by the Hetu (River Chart), an ancient diagram that uses numbers and directions to symbolize the transformations of Heaven and Earth and Yin-Yang.

Golden Elixir cultivation works through the transformations of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases, ultimately transcending them. The previous chapter said that the union of Yin and Yang depends entirely on Wu and Ji, names associated with Earth, and made clear the symbolism of “three” and “five.” These ideas, too, have their origins. The Cantong qi (Token for Joining the Three) says, “The circle of three and five, one inch and one part,” and also, “Three and five unite as one, all gathered and returned to a single place.” Across the ages, many have sought the Dao, yet very few have truly understood the meaning of these three characters—“three,” “five,” and “one.” Few know that they derive from the Hetu.

According to the Hetu’s system of numbers and images, the East’s three belongs to Wood and symbolizes the Hun in the human body; the South’s two belongs to Fire and symbolizes Shen (spirit). Wood and Fire join, as if forming one household. Yin is contained within Yang, and an inner emptiness and numinous presence take shape as the symbol of the heart. Hence the saying, “The Eastern three and Southern two together make five.” The West’s four belongs to Metal and symbolizes the Po; the North’s one belongs to Water and symbolizes Jing (essence). Metal and Water join, as if forming one household. Yang is contained within Yin, and inner fullness takes shape as the symbol of the body. Hence the saying, “The Northern one and Western four together make it.”

The Center belongs to Earth and governs Wood, Fire, Metal, and Water. It also encompasses Shen, the Hun, and the Po, forming a household of its own. It symbolizes true intention—the focused awareness in cultivation that can govern body and mind—and has no opposing direction. When body and mind unite and return to the central position of Yellow Earth, this is the scene called “the three households meeting.” From this, the true seed emerges and the sacred embryo takes shape. This is what the Cantong qi means by “the three things form one household and all return to Wu and Ji.” Hence the saying: “Wu and Ji dwell in their own place as the generative number five; the three households meet and form the infant.”

The postcelestial mind is the precelestial original Jing; the postcelestial body is the precelestial original Qi (vital energy); and postcelestial intention is the precelestial original Shen. In the beginning, the Taiji contained all three, undivided and forming one. Later, the One divided into Two; with the addition of Earth at the Center, these became the three households. The Two then divided into Four; with Earth at the Center, these became the Five Phases. Thus transformations multiplied and generation continued without end. Following these transformations is the ordinary way of the world, which cannot escape the cycle of rebirth. Reversing them is called Golden Elixir cultivation, through which one can transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred.

When Golden Elixir cultivation reaches the stage called “the three households meeting,” body and mind naturally unite with Jing, Qi, and Shen; these, in turn, return to the One. Once they have returned to the One, all the many transformations—the Four Images, Five Phases, Six Qi, Seven Luminaries, Eight Trigrams, and Nine Palaces—also return to the One. This is called “the Great One containing the true Qi.” Cultivation then continues through gentle nurturing and refinement until the sacred embryo is complete and the original Qi abundant, making it possible to transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred. Hence the saying: “Know then that the Great One contains the true Qi; when the embryo is complete after ten months, one enters the foundation of sagehood.”

This chapter draws together the teachings of the Hetu, links them to the Zhouyi (Book of Changes), and confirms them through comparison with the Cantong qi. It serves as the guiding outline of the entire work.

Plants and trees also have both Yin and Yang. Without either one, they cannot grow and flourish. Leaves emerge first, and flowers bloom afterward: Yang Qi stirs first, and Yin Qi responds.

The interaction of Yin and Yang is an everyday truth we can readily observe. But who can truly understand the principle by which they return to their source? Thus those who cultivate the Dao are cautioned: if you do not understand Yin and Yang, do not presume to undertake cultivation.

This chapter explains that cultivating nature and cultivating life must proceed together. The mysteries of Heaven and Earth’s creative transformation depend on the changes of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). The source of both Yin-Yang and the Five Phases is the One—that is, Wuji and Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate). When Taiji moves, Yang arises; when it is still, Yin arises. The One divides into two, and through the interplay and union of Yin and Yang, the myriad things take shape without end.

Everything between Heaven and Earth, great or small, has Yin and Yang. Even plants, which have no awareness, must first be stirred by Yang Qi and then answered by Yin Qi before their branches, leaves, and flowers can flourish. Leaves are green and seem to belong to Yin; in fact, Yang Qi stirs first, and only then do the leaves begin to unfold. Thus Yang leads Yin and comes first. Flowers are red and seem to belong to Yang; in fact, Yin Qi responds afterward, and only then do the flowers bloom. Thus Yin follows Yang and comes later.

According to the Hetu, an ancient diagram that uses numbers and patterns to explain how Yin and Yang arise between Heaven and Earth, “Heaven gives birth to Water through the number one, and Earth encloses it with the number six”: Yin is on the outside and Yang within, like the form of a green leaf. “Earth gives birth to Fire through the number two, and Heaven encloses it with the number seven”: Yang is on the outside and Yin within, like the form of a red flower.

The human body and mind work in the same way. The Kan trigram, which symbolizes Water and is empty on the outside but solid within, can serve as a metaphor for the body. But this does not mean the physical body, temporarily assembled from the “four great elements” of earth, water, fire, and wind. It means the wondrous existence contained within true emptiness. The Li trigram, which symbolizes Fire and is solid on the outside but empty within, can serve as a metaphor for the mind. But this does not mean the deluded mind that arises under the influence of external objects; it means the true emptiness contained within wondrous existence.

Ordinary people’s bodies chase after sensory experiences, giving rise to worldly toil; their minds then form discriminating thoughts in response to those experiences. People follow this process outward, unaware of it in their daily lives, and ultimately cycle through birth and death. For those who cultivate the Dao, the essential task is to reverse this process: take the true Yang from within Kan and use it to transform the true Yin within Li, so that body and mind merge as one and the primordial source is restored.

Yin and Yang have a single source. Cultivating in accordance with their principles leads one to become an ordinary person; cultivating by reversing the flow of acquired changes leads one to become a sage. Though the foundations of Dao cultivation share one source, its practice must attend to both aspects. Some take the illusory, changing body as their true self and cling to “being”; others mistake lifeless emptiness for the mind and become fixed on “nonbeing.” Because they do not understand true Yin and Yang, they act blindly. Is this not like intending to travel south while driving the carriage north?

The patriarchs admonish all who study and practice: seek out a true teacher and investigate deeply the roots of nature and life. You must thoroughly understand Yin and Yang and deeply comprehend the transformations of creation. Never cultivate only one side, blindly refine and nourish, or make careless speculations. Yin and Yang are what the “Appended Statements” calls “one Yin and one Yang: this is the Dao.” At the prenatal level, Yin and Yang are called Qian and Kun; in the human being, they correspond to nature and life. At the postnatal level, they are called Kan and Li; in the human being, they correspond to body and mind. Ultimately, Kan and Li are Qian and Kun, just as body and mind are nature and life. By analogy with natural transformations, they are called sun and moon, water and fire; by analogy with things, lead and mercury, tiger and dragon; in terms of the human body, hun and po, heart and kidneys; and in terms of human relationships, man and woman, husband and wife.

Some heterodox practitioners, seeing words such as “Yin and Yang,” “husband and wife,” and “man and woman” in the Wuzhen pian, twist them into a depraved doctrine that uses women as alchemical vessels. They deceive the ignorant and encourage sexual misconduct, even leading people to ruin and death. Others use this heresy to interpret the text. The author condemns them to fall into the Avici Hell or become maggots in a latrine, never to be released. How tragic and lamentable!

If Yang contains only Yin essence, its substance will lack firmness. Cultivating only one thing will instead leave one increasingly weak and wasted. Deliberately exhausting the body, kneading and stretching it are not the proper path. Breath-taking and “dining on rosy clouds”—a method said to absorb the energy of clouds—are also acts of delusion. People vainly pursue refining and subduing lead and mercury, symbolic of the two Yin-Yang elements in Neidan. When, then, will they truly bring the tiger and dragon—the terms likewise symbolizing the union of Yin and Yang—under control?

I urge you to investigate the very source of life and return to your original nature, restoring your fundamental source. This is the most important path of cultivation.

This chapter says that cultivating one thing alone is not the true path. Practitioners should directly investigate the roots of nature and life. As the previous two chapters explain, the union of Yin and Yang is the Great Dao. The body and mind must work together for the “sacred embryo” to form, a symbol in Neidan cultivation of the essential achievement of practice. Otherwise, one is likely to stray into side paths and fail to establish a true foundation for cultivation.

Some practitioners, having never met a true teacher, mistake the Yin essence in the Li trigram—which symbolizes the heart and Fire—for their original nature. They do not seek the true Yang in the Kan trigram—which symbolizes the body and Water—to illumine it. Even if they hold to a single thought, keeping the mind still until it becomes clear and tranquil, they may still be driven by the discerning spirit, the consciousness shaped over many years by distinctions and attachments. Unable to escape the cycle of birth and death, how could they attain an indestructible body like vajra? This is why cultivating only one aspect ultimately leads to imbalance and weakness.

Others direct their efforts inward, laboring over the body with therapeutic exercises such as pressing and stretching, or imitating a bear climbing and a bird extending its wings. Still others seek outside the body, practicing methods such as absorbing Qi or feeding on the rosy clouds, taking in the essence of the sun and moon. This is like a poor person finding a precious pearl but not recognizing its value, or fleeing in panic out of fear. Compared with those who cultivate only one thing, they are even farther from the Great Dao. The reason is that they do not understand the true meaning of “body and mind.”

The true Yin in the Li trigram represents the mind; the true Yang in the Kan trigram represents the body. When these are compared to inanimate things, they are called lead and mercury; when compared to living things, they are called tiger and dragon. In terms of the body and mind themselves, they are called “ingredients”; in terms of the process of refining them, they are called “the firing process,” a metaphor for the force, rhythm, advance, and retreat of cultivation. If those on side paths do not recognize the inborn source, how can they bring the body and mind under control?

To bring the body and mind under control, one must therefore investigate deeply the source from which life first received Qi and the body took shape. Before one’s parents gave birth to one, the De of Qian and Kun—symbols of Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang—was joined, and nature and life were whole and complete, like a unified Taiji. After birth, the Qian trigram becomes Li, and the Kun trigram becomes Kan. From the moment an infant is born and gives its first cry, nature and life become divided and can no longer return naturally to their original state.

Those who practice the Dao should first seek a true teacher to point out the source from which life received Qi and the body took shape. Then they should return the single Yang from Kan to Li, restoring Li to Qian, and return the single Yin from Li to Kan, restoring Kan to Kun. In this way, they recover the wholeness of nature and life as they were before birth. This is the Golden Elixir, the great medicine of the “seven returns and nine restorations.” It can enable one to attain a body that remains intact through countless aeons, something beyond the reach of those who cultivate only one thing.

Yet the work of restoration need not necessarily reach back to the moment when life first received Qi. The body is formed through the senses—eyes, ears, nose, and tongue—and its ceaseless vital functions ultimately converge in the One Mind. This is what is called the “place where the body is born.” When this life giving current flows outward, one becomes a worldly person; when it is gathered back in the opposite direction, one can approach the realm of the sages. If, throughout the twelve two-hour periods of the day, a person repeatedly draws back the gaze and gathers in what is heard, continually investigating inward, then suddenly turns the mind around, they can awaken and recognize their original face from before their parents were born. If they then continue to guard it at all times and never let it slip away, this is called returning to the root and restoring the source. From this the great medicine is born. To recognize the sovereign mind, the mind that governs body and mind, is to recognize the sovereign of the medicine.

Everyone is naturally endowed with the basis for nurturing life and living long. It is only through confusion and ignorance that people carelessly cast it aside.

When cultivation reaches the point where sweet dew descends, this symbolizes Heaven and Earth coming together. Where the yellow sprout emerges, this symbolizes the meeting of the two forces, Kan and Li. “Sweet dew,” “yellow sprout,” and “Kan and Li” are all terms from Neidan cultivation, used to describe changes in body and mind and the harmonizing of Yin-Yang during the process.

A frog at the bottom of a well might think there are no dragon’s lairs in the world. How could a bird by the hedge know that phoenix nests exist? Those with limited experience find it hard to understand deeper truths.

Once Neidan is complete, treasures as abundant as wealth naturally fill one’s inner being. Why search everywhere for medicinal herbs or learn to burn and refine plants and trees?

This chapter says that the “great medicine” required for cultivation need not be sought outside oneself. The great medicine is rooted in nature and life: a person’s innate nature and vital life. The workings of nature and life do not exist apart from oneself.

This chapter says that the great medicine of cultivation—the foundation for returning to the origin and nurturing nature and life—need not be sought outside the body. Its root lies in nature and life, whose workings cannot be separated from the human body and mind. Before birth, everyone already possessed nature and life in full. After birth, having received the Qi of Heaven and Earth, those conditions were still complete. The “valley spirit that never dies” spoken of by the Highest One refers to the life force that endures, hidden in stillness and emptiness. It is realized when people turn their awareness inward and return to their original nature.

People in the world are blinded by habits built up over many years. They lose sight of their nature, set aside the great medicine, and race outward in search of another path to longevity. They stay busy all their lives and never awaken, even at death. Only when a true master points them in the right direction do they understand that the body and mind everyone already has are the great medicine of longevity. When nature and life unite as one, the true seed—the fundamental life force generated through cultivation—will emerge naturally, like sweet dew falling from Heaven or yellow sprouts rising from the earth.

Sweet dew falling from Heaven is a metaphor for the sudden arrival of the primordial Qi that existed before Heaven and Earth, coming from emptiness as though something had emerged from nothing. It is a wondrous event. Yellow sprouts growing from the earth represent the union of Yin and Yang, when a single point of true Yang bursts forth from Kun Earth, which symbolizes yielding, receptive power that bears all things, like a tender medicinal shoot ready to be gathered. Both images describe the moment when Kan and Li—symbols of Water and Fire, and also of Yin and Yang forces—join to produce the great medicine.

Sadly, people abandon what is real and chase what is illusory. Their perception is like a bird among hedges, their wisdom like a frog at the bottom of a well. They do not know that a dragon’s lair lies within the North Sea, or that a phoenix’s nest rests in the land of the rising sun. So they overlook the great medicine already present in everyone, right before their eyes. This is what is meant by “those who enter and leave through the same gate never meet.” How could they know that with just a single spark of the Elixir—the essential secret of alchemy—even copper and iron can be turned into gold, and all acquired impurities can be transformed into primordial Qi? Once this is understood, the source can be found everywhere.

Yet people cast aside what they already possess and turn instead to acquired impurities in search of some minor trick. It is like leaving a house full of gold untouched and going out to gather herbs to cook over a fire.

Do not continue refining so-called “Three Yellows” or “Four Spirits” as external medicines, and do not treat various herbs and plants as the foundation of cultivation. Seeking the Way in this manner leads away from the true path. When Yin and Yang come together and interact, reaching the accord called “two and eight in balance,” they naturally draw close and unite.

When “the sun reddens at the bottom of the pool,” dark, baleful influences recede. When “the moon shines white over the mountain peak,” new sprouts of medicine begin to grow. These images of the sun, moon, and medicinal sprouts describe the meeting of Yin and Yang and the arising of the medicine in Neidan cultivation.

Those who wish to discern true “lead and mercury”—a Neidan term for the Yin and Yang essences that unite in cultivation—must understand that they are not ordinary cinnabar and mercury. Do not abandon a foundation as precious as a roomful of gold only to seek meager benefits in external herbs.

This chapter directly identifies the innate medicine in order to dispel heterodox teachings. The great medicine is already present in everyone; there is no need to seek it outside. It follows that impurities formed after birth are not the true seed. Why, then, refine the Three Yellows and Four Spirits, or gather all kinds of herbs? The “Three Yellows” and “Four Spirits” are medicines named in alchemical practice; here, the patriarch uses them as metaphors for acquired impurities. Broadly speaking, treating ordinary Jing, Qi, and Shen as three elements gives the “Three Yellows”; treating the heart, kidneys, lungs, and liver as four symbols gives the “Four Spirits.” Using the body’s fluids, blood, and breath in one’s practice is called “the many herbs.” If one does not understand that, once caught up in acquired form and breath, these are no longer the void, pure great medicine, one may mistakenly believe they are worth refining.

The true medicine cannot be separated from Kan and Li, the names of two Bagua trigrams that in Neidan symbolize water and fire. The true water within Li tends to flow downward, while the true fire within Kan tends to rise upward: this is the inherent nature of Heaven and Earth. After the two join, water returns to Earth and fire to Heaven, each moving toward its own kind. Heaven’s One generates water, which is completed through Earth’s Six, symbolizing Kan. Earth’s Two generates fire, which is completed through Heaven’s Seven, symbolizing Li. Now take the One within Kan and raise it to join with the Seven within Li; then take the Two within Li and lower it to join with the Six within Kan. Together they make “two and eight.” Two and eight correspond, making exactly one catty in measure; naturally drawn to one another, they become a single whole. These two lines describe the state that must follow the joining of Kan and Li.

Just before Kan and Li join, true Yang Qi surges out from the North Sea within Kan, shining brightly like the sun at the bottom of a pool. At this moment, Yin Qi and evil influences naturally disperse. When true Yang rises and joins with true Yin within Li, the Golden Elixir forms—the achievement of a condensed unity in Neidan practice. This is like the moon in the sky shining with the Sun’s reflected light: the Elixir’s radiance first appears above the Geng direction, a traditional term for the west. At this point the young medicine has just sprouted and is tender, so it should be gathered promptly and refined. These two lines describe the natural signs that appear when Kan and Li first join.

Broadly speaking, the Yang Qi within Kan is called true lead, and the Yin essence within Li is called true mercury. Kan and Li are lead and mercury; lead and mercury are also body and mind. The workings of body and mind appear as Jing and Qi, whose roots are nature and life. When the two merge, they become wholly one as the original spirit (the innate, authentic Shen). This alone is the true, pure medicine. Once a person understands this completely, they will see that acquired Jing and Qi are not the true medicine and will not be misled by external alchemical substances such as cinnabar and mercury. If cinnabar and mercury are not the true seed, how could the Three Yellows, Four Spirits, and various herbs be regarded as true medicine? How can people in the world be so confused?

This method of cultivation contains a deeper truth within the truth, because it works differently from what ordinary people understand.

Cultivators should understand that “reversal” means restoring the original state through the union of Li and Kan, two symbols in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy), often associated respectively with mind and spirit, and body and essence. Mind and body are originally complete in everyone, but returning to the root and restoring life requires this method of reversal. One’s innate, natural nature is the true “inner medicine”; what is cultivated after birth and then returned to its original state through subtle practice is the so-called “outer medicine.” The Laozi says, “I alone differ from others, valuing nourishment from the Mother.” This is precisely the principle being described.

In terms of the symbols of the prenatal state, Qian, representing Heaven and nature, is the host; Kun, representing Earth and life, is the guest. When the central lines of Qian and Kun exchange places to form Li and Kan, the positions of host and guest appear to reverse: the Wood Mercury within Li is light, buoyant, and easily stirred, like a host within the guest; the Metal Lead within Kan is still and substantial, like a guest within the host. Ordinary people see only that when Qian and Kun become Kan and Li, Metal sinks and Wood floats. They do not realize that a further reversal can return Kan and Li to Qian and Kun: Metal shifts from sinking to floating, and Wood from floating to sinking, while Qian’s nature remains the host and Kun’s life remains the guest. In this way, the roles of rising and sinking change, while the positions of host and guest are once again set in order.

Li’s outer frame belongs to Qian and is called the “Golden Cauldron.” Within it, the “Cinnabar Mercury,” which readily floats and is difficult to keep in place, represents the guest and symbolizes the mind. Kan’s outer frame belongs to Kun and is called the “Jade Pool.” Within it, the “Silver in Water,” still and unmoving, represents the host and symbolizes the body. Mercury is constantly in motion, flowing outward with its momentum and difficult to control. To keep it in place, one must first use the Silver in Water. The stable nature of Metal comes from the Palace of Kan; when used in reverse, it takes the role of host and thereby restrains Mercury. Once true Mercury is restrained, it no longer scatters, and body and mind become one, still and unmoving.

The key to bringing body and mind under control is “true intention,” the focused, undistracted awareness used in cultivation. The poem’s words “to keep” and “first employ” reveal the subtlety of the method: first use what is still to restrain what is restless, thereby exchanging the roles of rising and sinking, host and guest. Their union need not take long. “Tending the fire” refers to the process in Neidan cultivation of using intention to regulate body and mind. A brief turning of the light inward—gathering the spirit and observing within—is enough for the Golden Elixir to appear, as if in a deep pool of the Northern Sea, like a bright full moon shining through a curtain. The first union of Kan and Li produces the “Great Medicine”; the subsequent gathering and refining of the medicine begin from this point. The use of this outer medicine is the foundation of returning the Elixir to its complete state. This is why it is called “truth within truth.”

To understand where the medicine arises, look to the direction called “southwest.” Here, “medicine” refers to the elixir cultivated in internal alchemy, and “southwest” is an alchemical term symbolizing where the medicine comes into being.

When lead stirs upon encountering Gui Water, it must be gathered at once. Once metal has passed the full moon, it is no longer suitable for use. “Lead,” “metal,” “Gui,” and “full moon” are all terms from internal alchemy, referring to different substances, timings, and transformations in the cultivation process.

The gathered medicine is placed in an earthen alchemical vessel and sealed tightly. Then “flowing pearl” is added so the two can unite. The “earthen cauldron” is a vessel used in alchemical practice, while “flowing pearl” is the name of an alchemical substance.

The medicine’s proportions should follow the “two and eight” ratio, and the firing process should be regulated according to the changes of Yin-Yang.

This chapter explains in detail “gathering” and “nurturing”—that is, how to regulate the firing process when refining the Golden Elixir. The previous chapter spoke of “the moon appearing in a deep pool,” indicating that the great medicine of the Golden Elixir had already formed. But it did not explain where in the body it forms, when to gather it, or how to nurture it, leaving practitioners unsure where to begin. They must therefore understand the firing process.

True gold emerges from beneath the water, so the source of a river serves as a metaphor. The great medicine forms in “Kun Earth,” a direction symbolizing support and gestation, so the southwest serves as a metaphor. The formation of the great medicine in the body is also understood to correspond to the moon’s course in the heavens and its waxing and waning.

At the full moon, the moon is in the east, at the position called “Qian-Jia.” It then passes through “Gen-Bing” and wanes toward the last quarter. The moon’s po—the aspect symbolizing Yin—begins to give rise to a single Yin at the position called “Xun-Xin.” When Yin’s movement reaches its peak, it turns to stillness. This is called the “Moon Cave”: the moonlight gathers in the northeast, and the transformations of all things return to their root. This symbolizes “losing companions,” as Yin gradually grows while Yang withdraws and lies hidden.

At the new moon, the moon reaches “Kun-Gui” in the north. It then passes through “Dui-Ding” and waxes toward the first quarter. The moon’s hun—the aspect symbolizing Yang—gives rise to a single Yang at the position called “Zhen-Geng.” When stillness reaches its peak, it turns to movement. This is called the “Heavenly Root”: light appears in the southwest, and the medicinal sprout begins to grow. This symbolizes “gaining companions,” as Yang gradually emerges and like things respond to one another.

Knowing where the great medicine forms in the body also reveals when to gather it. Hence the saying: “To know where the medicine forms at the river’s source, look to the southwest, its native place.” Once formed, the great medicine is called “true lead.” “Lead” here does not mean an ordinary metal; it is a term for the medicine in Daoist Neidan practice. It is subtle and hard to discern, like lead in water.

Water is divided into “Ren Water” and “Gui Water.” Ren is Yang and symbolizes clear water; Gui is Yin and symbolizes turbid water. Timing depends on the teacher’s oral instruction and transmission of the heart of the teaching. When true intent first stirs, it is Yang; as it continues to turn, it becomes Yin. Once Yin arises, the true seed will be lost. One must therefore gather the medicine quickly, before Yin has arisen. Hence the saying: “When lead meets the birth of Gui, it must be gathered at once.”

True lead appears from within water and is also called “true gold.” This refers to the medicine, indistinct and hard to make out, like a speck of gold in water. True gold is further divided into “tender” and “mature”: the tender state is like the moon just past the full moon, while the mature state is like the moon farther past its fullness.

The timing of the full moon depends on the firing times transmitted in the oral instructions. When the true Qi (the primordial energy spoken of in cultivation) has just begun to coalesce, it corresponds exactly to the day of the full moon, when moonlight is complete. If this moment passes, the true Qi has already dispersed, just as the full moon has passed. One should gather it while it is still tender, like the moon just reaching fullness; if one waits until it has aged, it is like the moon after the full moon. The key to what is called “the full moon” lies in the oral instructions.

One should gather it while the Yin Qi has not yet fully dispersed. Hence the saying: “When metal meets the distant full moon, it is no longer fit to taste.” This means that when the living Zi hour—the moment in cultivation when Yang Qi first stirs—arrives, one must gather it in time.

After gathering the Great Medicine (the substance formed through cultivation), guide it upward with true intention to the Celestial Valley (a site in the head used in cultivation), then lead it into the Yellow Court (the Dantian region within the body). Shut the six gates (the portals through which body and mind connect with the outside world) tightly, seal them firmly to prevent leakage, and continually protect it with the light of Shen (focused spirit and inner awareness), without a moment’s interruption. When true lead rises into the cauldron, this amounts to only one medicinal ingredient. The solar flowing pearl (true mercury, which is paired with true lead) must be added at once, so that Shen and Qi sustain one another, the mind and breath depend on one another, and lead and mercury unite. Only then can the two elements of body and mind become one. Hence the saying: “Send it back to the earthen crucible and seal it securely; then add the flowing pearl to join with it.” This describes the work of nurturing the Great Medicine after it enters the cauldron. Nurture it immediately after gathering it, and the Great Medicine will not be depleted.

Yet how to make the medicine’s power full and the firing even is not easy to explain. The Great Medicine is not literally measured by weight. Calling it “one catty” means that its power has reached fullness. The Golden Elixir can be completed only when the true Qi of the two arcs comes together; Metal and Water each make up half. If the firing is insufficient, it remains tender; if it goes too far, it becomes old. If the timing is even slightly off, would balance not be lost?

When gathered, it is called “medicine,” but the medicine also contains the firing process. True Fire has no fixed time; what is called regulating it is meant to bring the firing to precisely the right point. After the two arcs join, they must still be regulated by natural true breathing. This involves different applications of gentle and forceful firing: when the mind wanders, the firing grows cold; when thoughts become agitated, it grows hot and dry. If one cannot remain exactly between cold and hot, would the proper measure not be lost?

“Fire” refers to the timing and intensity of the fire in alchemical practice, while “medicine” refers to the inner foundations used in alchemy, such as Jing and Qi. Refining the medicine with fire means using the intention of Shen to guide Qi (the vital energy of life in Daoist thought). In this way, the work of forming the Golden Elixir is brought to completion. Hence the saying: “The medicine weighs one jin and requires two eights; regulate the fire’s timing by relying on Yin-Yang.” This speaks directly to the key role of Golden Elixir cultivation; it is no casual remark. The mysteries of fire timing are not written in texts, but must be transmitted in person by an enlightened master. Still, one should understand that the subtle art of gathering lies entirely in keeping thoughts unmoving: to appear to gather nothing is to gather truly; to appear to make no use of anything is to make true use of it. This is the subtlest wonder of fire timing. Beyond this comes the function of “returning the Elixir”—bringing the refined Jing and Qi back to the Dantian, where they congeal into an Elixir.

The tiger leaps and the dragon turns, as if wind and waves were surging; yet in the central, upright position, the Mysterious Pearl—the symbol of the inner Elixir—takes shape.

Fruit grows on branches and, in time, ripens. Seeds develop in the womb: how could they differ from fruit on a branch?

The roots of cultivation in the Southern and Northern Schools can both be discerned through changes in the trigrams. The timing of the fire, morning and evening, must accord with the Celestial Pivot—the pivotal star of the Dipper, which also signifies the hinge of the Dao’s operation.

Understand that one who truly withdraws to cultivate the Dao may live amid the bustle of the marketplace. Why must one go deep into the mountains to find solitude and quiet?

This chapter describes the complete practice of Returning the Elixir: Heaven and Earth unite and the Golden Elixir takes form. The previous chapter explained that after obtaining the great medicine of the Golden Elixir, one nurtures it within the Yellow Court (the Earthen Crucible, the part of internal cultivation that contains Shen and Qi), where Shen and Qi remain together like mother and child, until they return to the root and restore life.

When stillness reaches its utmost, Yang Qi stirs. At this moment—the hour of the Rat, when Yang Qi first arises in Neidan practice—one sets the River Chariot in motion, the route that transports Jing and Qi during internal cultivation, and gathers the heat of the firing process. The Golden Elixir then rises along the Tailgate Pass, the aperture at the base of the spine, to the Celestial Valley point, an aperture in the head in internal cultivation, where it is refined and tempered with fierce heat. The scripture compares this process to dragons and tigers battling, wind and waves surging, and Heaven and Earth trembling. Once Heaven and Earth unite, a drop of golden liquid still falls into the center of the Yellow Court. Thus it says: “The tiger leaps, the dragon soars, and wind and waves rage; in the central position, the Mysterious Pearl is born.”

Afterward, the elixir must continue to be gently nurtured: like a dragon guarding a pearl or a hen brooding over her eggs, one quietly turns one’s attention inward, neither forgetting nor deliberately forcing its growth. When the Mysterious Pearl—the symbol of true Qi congealed through Neidan practice—takes shape, and the Great One contains the Real, with true Qi held within a unified whole, it is like fruit ripening and naturally releasing its fragrance. The embryo-like elixir, too, transforms of its own accord and transcends. Thus it says: “Fruit borne on a branch must in time ripen; how could the child within the womb be any different?”

Qian in the south and Kun in the north are their prenatal positions, symbolizing the source of creation. In the postnatal state, Heaven and Earth no longer interact, forming “Obstruction,” the hexagram in the Book of Changes that represents Heaven and Earth cut off from one another and communication blocked. Now Qian and Kun unite again, and Obstruction turns into “Peace,” the hexagram of Heaven and Earth interacting in harmony. The hexagrams of the complete cycle of Heaven consequently turn as well. Thus it says: “The source of the southern and northern houses turns the hexagram images.”

“Dawn and dusk” refer to movement and stillness. When Yin Qi stirs, it signifies “Return,” when Yang Qi begins to revive; one should advance the fire until all six Yang lines are complete. When Yang movement reaches its extreme, stillness returns. When Yin Qi settles into stillness, it signifies “Coupling,” when Yin Qi begins to arise; one should withdraw the fire until all six Yin lines are complete. When stillness reaches its extreme, movement begins again. Advancing and withdrawing the fire cycle repeatedly, always in accord with the Celestial Pivot, the key mechanism regulating the circulation of the complete cycle of Heaven in Neidan practice. The cycle moves at every point, while the Celestial Pivot alone remains steady and still. In the human body, it corresponds to the original Shen of the Celestial Valley, which constantly responds to things while remaining quiet. Every advance and withdrawal in the regulation of the firing process must accord with this unmoving pivot. Thus it says: “At dawn and dusk, the firing process accords with the Celestial Pivot.”

The practice of Returning the Elixir lies entirely in emptying the mind and keeping still, but stillness does not mean withdrawing from activity. Abandoning activity and seeking only seated stillness is like living in seclusion deep in the mountains: it symbolizes cultivating only one aspect. Remaining active while still maintaining inner quiet is like living in a bustling town: it symbolizes the practical function of Returning the Elixir. Each person has a “Real Person without a fixed position,” the true nature unrestricted by the body’s location, hidden within the six sense faculties of eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. It sometimes manifests in action and sometimes withdraws into concealment. Just as the celestial bodies keep moving while the Celestial Pivot remains still, a person may spend the whole day amid the noise of busy streets while the mind rests as if atop a thousand peaks; or one may live in the mountains while the mind remains attached to the world. Therefore, a great recluse need not flee to the mountains and keep to solitude. The scripture says: “Know that the great recluse lives in the bustling town; why must one seek the deep mountains and guard a lonely stillness?” This summarizes the function of Returning the Elixir and the complete practice of cultivating nature and life, showing that it does not cultivate only one aspect.

How can one understand that a lotus can be made to grow in blazing fire without understanding the principle of Yin-Yang reversal in the wondrous methods of cultivation?

Draw the White Tiger—the image in Neidan (internal alchemy) symbolizing the true Yang and true Metal within Kan—back and settle it within oneself, where it is gently nurtured. In this way, a luminous pearl, round and bright like the full moon, can be formed.

Guard the medicine furnace and patiently observe the firing process. Settle the spirit and breath—the original spirit and inner true breath—and let them move naturally.

When the Yin Qi within the body has gradually been exhausted, the Golden Elixir is mature. The practitioner thereby escapes bondage and endures for a long time.

This chapter discusses the wondrous use of returning the Elixir: it begins with the reversal of Yin and Yang and ultimately returns to nature, carrying forward the meaning of the preceding chapters. The union of Kan and Li produces the medicine; the union of Qian and Kun forms the Elixir. Both describe the wondrous workings of reversal, though few people in the world understand them.

In the ordinary transformations of Yin and Yang, Fire arises from Wood and Water arises from Metal. This is the way things proceed according to ordinary principles. If desire and anger are allowed to grow, the force of life turns from generation toward destruction. The Scripture of the Hidden Talisman (Yinfu Jing) calls this a calamity and holds that it damages the Dao of the Elixir. Reversing Yin and Yang is different: Metal is born in Water, and Wood in Fire. By restraining anger and curbing desire, destruction is turned into life-giving force. This is called “reversing the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water),” as though the earth itself produced the seven treasures. Buddhist scriptures use “a lotus growing in a burning house” as a comparison. Hence the saying: “How can one understand that a lotus can be made to grow in blazing fire without understanding the principle of Yin-Yang reversal in the wondrous methods of cultivation?”

Wood arising in Fire is called the Azure Dragon; Metal arising in Water is called the White Tiger. The White Tiger originally symbolizes true Metal in the Qian palace. When it falls into the Kun palace, it becomes Kan. Now, by using the method called “driving the Tiger to join the Dragon,” one draws the true Metal in Kan over and introduces it into Li. This is called Metal returning to its original nature; hence it is called returning the Elixir, and the Qian substance is thereby restored to wholeness. Hence the saying: “Draw the White Tiger back and settle it within oneself, where it is gently nurtured; in this way, a luminous pearl, round and bright like the full moon, can be formed.” This symbolizes the generation of the great Golden Elixir medicine in the Kun furnace. With further gathering and refinement, the Golden Elixir returns to the Qian cauldron; this is called the “Golden Liquid Elixir returning.”

After the Golden Elixir has entered the cauldron, it must still be gently nurtured by the furnace’s true Fire. The regulation of the firing process depends entirely on the true breath. The true breath spoken of here is not the acquired breath of ordinary respiration, but an inner breath that is bound up with the original spirit; it is also called “spirit-breath.” When the original spirit is settled and unmoving, the inner Dharma wheel turns of itself. The outgoing breath is not drawn away by external conditions, and the incoming breath does not remain trapped in the domains of body and mind. This is the true Fire moving naturally. Hence the saying: “Guard the medicine furnace and patiently observe the firing process. Settle the spirit and breath, and let them move naturally.”

The body and mind of ordinary people both contain Yin factors. From ordinary consciousness arise thoughts of greed, anger, delusion, and arrogance. As long as one remains bound by these thoughts, one has not gone beyond the Three Realms. After obtaining the Elixir seed, Yin Qi begins to turn into Yang Qi. Through continued cultivation, the Yin is gradually stripped away, revealing a complete and radiant original nature, like one’s state before birth. One can then go beyond the Three Realms, escape bondage, and attain a Golden Body that endures without decay. Hence the saying: “When the Yin Qi within the body has gradually been exhausted, the Golden Elixir is mature. The practitioner thereby escapes bondage and endures for a long time.”

This chapter describes the Dao of the Elixir as working through the reversal and transformation of Yin and Yang before ultimately returning to nature. In this way it carries forward what came before and brings the preceding chapters to a close.

Yellow Sprout and White Snow are not difficult to find, but true practitioners must rely on deep De (Virtue). Here, “Yellow Sprout” and “White Snow” are Neidan terms for the vital essence and elixir generated through cultivation; they are not physical substances.

The transformations of the Four Symbols and Five Phases all depend on Earth. The workings of the Three Primes and Eight Trigrams likewise depend on Ren, one of the Heavenly Stems, used here to represent the quality of Water. This statement uses the language of the Five Phases and the sexagenary cycle to describe how the elements of Neidan practice work together.

Once the Numinous Treasure—the precious inner elixir gained through cultivation—has been refined, others often cannot recognize it. Once Yin Demons, the malign disturbances described in cultivation, have been dispelled, ghosts and spirits can no longer intrude.

I would pass these secrets on to the world, but have yet to meet anyone who truly understands them.

This chapter explains the path of profound study and practice.

This chapter teaches that those who cultivate the Dao should diligently cultivate De (Virtue/Power), laying the foundation for refining the Elixir. The Great Dao of the Golden Elixir can free people from worldly constraints and carry them beyond the Three Realms, which is why it is called the supreme and most authentic treasure of the Way. Without profound De, how could anyone gather the utmost Dao?

The true Yang in the Kan trigram is called the “Yellow Sprout,” and the true Yin in the Li trigram is called the “White Snow.” Together they are the true ingredients for refining the Golden Elixir. These ingredients are transmitted only to perfected people, who invariably value De. De and conduct are distinct, yet inseparable, like the two wheels of a cart or the two wings of a bird. True De centers on purifying the mind, understanding principle, and remaining true to one’s duties of loyalty and filial devotion. True conduct centers on relieving hardship, aiding those in danger, and benefiting others through skillful means. By cultivating both De and conduct, and aligning one’s inner and outer selves, one can naturally resonate with Heaven, Earth, and spirits. Only then is there a chance of meeting a true master and receiving the true ingredients.

If one falls short in De and conduct, even meeting a true master and receiving the transmission of the true Dao may prove too much to bear. One may fail midway through cultivation and ultimately come to ruin. This is precisely what the Yinfu Jing means by saying, “When petty people obtain it, they lightly risk their lives.”

In the symbolic numbers of the Hetu, Metal, Water, Wood, and Fire are the Four Images; with Earth at the center, they form the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Metal, Water, Wood, and Fire all arise from central Earth, complete one cycle, and return to it. Since their source and destination are both Earth, the text says, “The Four Images and Five Phases all depend on Earth.” The “Three Origins” here are the original Jing (essence), original Qi (vital energy), and original Shen (spirit). The “Eight Trigrams” are Qian, Kun, and the six child trigrams. The Three Origins return to a single origin, and the Eight Trigrams return to a single Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). All things emerge from the “Center,” while true Water is born from the first of Heaven and serves as the source of all transformations. Hence the text says, “How could the Three Origins and Eight Trigrams be separate from Ren?” In the alchemical tradition, the “Center” means true intention, while the “One” means true lead.

When the central Yellow true intention—the genuine thought that occupies the center in alchemical practice—is still and unmoving, body and mind naturally become one. The Great Medicine arises from the void and is called true lead. True lead is the Golden Elixir, formed when the Yellow Sprout and White Snow meet and congeal. Through repeated refinement, ordinary substance is transformed into something numinous and subtle, reaching a state beyond the understanding of ordinary people. By continually eliminating Yin energy, one returns to pure Yang, leaving evil forces unable to intrude. Without the efficacy of the Great Medicine, how could one reach this state? Yet without profound De, how could one cultivate it to completion?

This secret cannot be passed from father to son, nor can a subject present it to a ruler. Only those with deep De and an enduring affinity with the immortals can bear to receive it. There are few kindred spirits between Heaven and Earth. At this point, the patriarch cannot help but sigh again and again: he laments how hard it is to find a kindred spirit, and with that, how rare it is to find someone truly able to accumulate De and cultivate the Way.

Devote yourself to seeking True Lead. Do not let the years pass by in vain.

Once the Earthly Po has gathered and contained the Vermilion Mercury, the Heavenly Hun can naturally subdue Water Metal.

This may be called a profound attainment in the Dao: even dragons and tigers can be subdued. It may also be called profound De: even ghosts and spirits will show reverence.

Once you know how to prolong life and bring it into accord with Heaven and Earth, troubles will no longer have a chance to well up in your heart.

This chapter explains the mysteries of the Golden Elixir, which can indeed free a person from the ordinary world. To continue from what came before: when De is already sufficient to lay the foundation, the “Great Medicine” is not difficult to obtain, and one should promptly seek True Lead. True Lead is the primordial Qi, born before Heaven and Earth and arising from the void; it is the Great Medicine used in the Golden Elixir. Its workings are wondrous beyond measure. It cannot be found directly within the physical body, yet neither can it be sought outside the body. It must be gathered through true intent—a mind that is focused and pure. When the mind reaches the corresponding state and enters the deep stillness of obscurity, True Lead naturally comes forth. Having obtained it, one takes charge of the ruler of one’s own life. Therefore, do not delay or let your time pass uselessly.

Though True Lead is a single Qi, it initially forms through the union of two things. To bring them together as one, one must use a method of reversal in cultivation: first gather Metal within the northern Water, then use Fire within the southern Wood to subdue Metal within the northern Water. In this way, Metal and Wood unite, Water and Fire support one another, and True Lead takes shape. Wood within Fire and Metal within Water are the Heavenly Hun and Earthly Po; the Hun and Po also symbolize the dragon and tiger. Once the true dragon and tiger within the body have been subdued, dragons and tigers throughout the world will likewise be tamed. When the Yang Hun and Yin Po within the body return to unity, ghosts and spirits throughout the world will also submit. This shows both the highest attainment in the Dao and the profoundest De.

Upon reaching a state of lofty Dao and weighty De, one can encompass Heaven and Earth and command Yin-Yang. Even if Heaven and Earth were destroyed, this true nature would remain unharmed; all troubles would be transformed into the wondrous, luminous true mind. This is what is meant by “troubles themselves are Bodhi”: one does not first eliminate troubles and then seek awakening, but transforms the troubles themselves into awakening. When both nature and life have reached completion, this is the highest realization of the Golden Elixir Great Dao cultivated in the world.

If you do not recognize true “lead”—a key substance in Neidan cultivation, referring to the essential original substance used in alchemy—and know its fundamental source, no amount of cultivation will be anything but wasted effort.

Leaving one’s wife in the hope of severing Yin-Yang, or fasting until the stomach and intestines are empty, will not bring about the Golden Elixir. The so-called Yin-Yang transformations in plants and trees are ultimately just material things mixed with impurities; clouds and rosy mists, the sun and moon, are merely dim and indistinct outer appearances. Even when combined with breathing exercises and visualization, these practices have nothing to do with cultivating the Golden Elixir.

This chapter explains how the Great Way of the Golden Elixir—the path of cultivation centered on innate True Qi—is entirely different from various deviant methods. The previous chapter said that True Lead, which symbolizes innate True Qi, has the wondrous power to transcend the ordinary and attain sagehood. How could anyone who cultivates the Dao fail to recognize True Lead? True Lead is the innate primordial Qi, the fundamental breath that existed before Heaven and Earth were divided and before the myriad things were born. It arises from a state of utter emptiness and stillness. It may look as though it involves deliberate action, but in truth it follows nature and forces nothing. It is the source of transformation and the foundation for cultivating the Great Elixir. No practice focused on a single thing can compare with it; manipulating postnatal essence and Qi or undertaking all manner of contrived actions cannot bring it within reach by luck.

Only when Yin and Yang each fulfill their own nature and life, and join with one another, can this be called the Great Way. Why, then, “put away the wife”? If only one side is cultivated, Yin and Yang in Heaven and Earth cannot unite, and the true seed cannot come into being. This is precisely what “putting away the wife” symbolizes: the separation of Yin and Yang.

The vast, upright Qi that fills Heaven and Earth needs no external substance to supplement it. Why, then, abstain from food? If one is inwardly deficient but forcibly cuts off external nourishment, the body is bound to grow weak. This is what “cutting off grain” symbolizes: an empty stomach and intestines.

Plants and trees, gold and silver, are metaphors for turbid, stagnant things within the body, such as the heart, kidneys, liver, and spleen. Clouds and rosy mists, the sun and moon, are metaphors for ordinary, postnatal energies within the body, such as the spirit, the ethereal soul, and the corporeal soul. All these are impurities formed after birth. Gathering them together and forcing them to fit the labels “Four Images” and “Five Phases” gives only a superficial resemblance; they have no real connection to the innate primordial Qi.

Some people also mistake breathing for original Qi and become fixated on techniques of inhalation and exhalation. Others mistake the activity of thought for the original Shen and become fixated on visualization. How could they know that true breath and Shen, free from deluded thoughts, must unite as one Qi and return to the Great Void? This is the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, utterly unlike the deviant methods described above. The distinction must be made clear.

The Golden Elixir is True Lead. Since people in the world do not recognize True Lead, how could they recognize the Golden Elixir? This chapter condemns deviant methods in the strongest terms and serves as a grave warning. Sadly, foolish people misunderstand the phrase “put away the wife,” fall into the deviant practice of harvesting Yin, and plant the evil cause of falling into hell. It is like trying to escape drowning by jumping into a fire—a truly lamentable thing.

If you have not even understood what “true lead” is, how can you understand the Golden Elixir? This chapter forcefully sweeps away heterodox paths and false teachings, and serves as a stern warning. Sadly, some ignorant people have misunderstood the phrase “divorcing one’s wife” and strayed into the deviant practice of gathering Yin. In doing so, they sow the causes and conditions for falling into hell, like someone trying to escape drowning by leaping into a fire. How tragic!

Though the ten thousand volumes of alchemical texts on Neidan (internal alchemy) offer differing accounts, the fundamental principle of Golden Elixir cultivation is only this:

It follows the Kun position, which symbolizes Yin and Earth, to give form, and is planted in the Palace of Intercourse in the Qian domain, which symbolizes Yang and Heaven.

Do not blame Heaven’s secrets for being revealed too plainly; it is simply that most people who study the Dao are ignorant and unenlightened.

If you can grasp the meaning of this poem, you will be able to behold the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) and the Supreme Lord Lao.

This chapter discusses the Great Way of the Golden Elixir, the fundamental Way pursued through Daoist internal alchemy. It regards this Way as a shortcut that transcends the ordinary and reaches the realm of the sage. It also concludes the first volume of the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality). The previous chapter explained that the effects of Golden Elixir practice are entirely different from those of side paths. From this, we can see that there is only one true foundation; the other two claims do not express the true Way.

This is not merely the position of this book. Even if one reads ten thousand volumes of alchemical texts, they speak of nothing beyond this same matter. The primordial Xiyi—the Changes transmitted by Fuxi—introduced Qian, Kun, Kan, and Li, laying the foundations of alchemical thought. Classics such as the Daode jing and the Qingjing jing take nature as their guiding principle. Though they point directly to the Way of Wuwei (non-action), they also contain the principles of Golden Elixir practice. Texts such as the Yinfu jing and the Cantong qi teach a return to the root. Though they explain in detail practices involving deliberate action, in the end they return to the natural Great Way. The teachings of Guan Yin, Zhuangzi, and Liezi, as well as the writings of Zhongli Quan, Lü Dongbin, Liu Haichan, and others, are the same: they investigate the roots of nature and life and establish the purpose of the Golden Elixir Way.

Here lies the most essential and clearly stated foundation of the Golden Elixir. The chapter has already explained its effects in detail. In brief, they can be summed up in two phrases: the medicine is produced in the Kun furnace, and the Golden Elixir is formed in the Qian cauldron. In Golden Elixir practice, the first union of Kan and Li produces the “Great Medicine”; this belongs to the Kun phase. Gathering the medicine at the proper time, raising it to the Celestial Valley, and guiding it back to the Yellow Court belong to the Qian phase. In the return of the Elixir—the refining of gathered medicine into an elixir—gathering the medicine into the furnace and nurturing it with gentle fire belong to the Kun phase. Gathering the fire to carry the metal, bringing Yin and Yang into union, and refining them atop Kunlun belong to the Qian phase. This is precisely what Master Cui meant by “produced in Kun, planted in Qian.” Thus the scripture says: “Relying on the Kun position, form takes shape; planted in the Qian domain, it is cultivated through intercourse.”

The Patriarch has analyzed the principles to this point and, one might say, has directly revealed Heaven’s secret. Sadly, people in the world…

The Patriarch has now revealed the principle so plainly that one could say he has directly disclosed Heaven’s secret. Yet people in the world remain misled by heterodox doctrines. Some take the “two houses,” the other and the self, to be Qian and Kun (the Yin and Yang sides). This can only bind them to the causes and conditions of the Avici Hell. Others take the area above the navel and below the crown of the head to be Qian and Kun; this is like trying to make a living in a ghost cave on Black Mountain. Is this not the height of ignorance?

If someone of exceptional wisdom diligently and carefully investigates and seeks instruction, and suddenly receives a divine revelation, they will at once awaken with sudden clarity. Only then will they know that mountains, rivers, and the earth everywhere are cauldrons and furnaces, symbols of alchemical work; that all living things may be regarded as medicines; and that every movement and stillness, every act and pause in daily life, is part of the firing process—the timing and measure of cultivation. The Three Pure Ones and the Most High (the revered Daoist deities and the highest state) are one’s own original Dharmakaya. Thus one can become a perfected being and a Patriarch in an instant. As the saying goes: “If you can grasp the meaning of the poem, you will at once behold the venerable Most High of the Three Pure Ones.”

The “Three Pure Ones” refers to the perfected beings of the three realms: Jade Clarity, Highest Clarity, and Great Clarity. “Most High” means the majestically exalted, primordial true sovereign. When ordinary people hear of the Three Pure Ones and the Most High, they are often overcome with awe and fear, imagining them to be supreme deities in Heaven whom they could never become. They do not know that their own original Jing is the perfected being of Jade Clarity, corresponding to what Buddhists call the pure Dharmakaya; their own original Qi is the perfected being of Highest Clarity, corresponding to what Buddhists call the body that manifests in a thousand forms and myriad transformations; and their own original Shen is the perfected being of Great Clarity, corresponding to what Buddhists call the complete Sambhogakaya.

Viewed from one aspect, the three are united as one, hence the name “Three Pure Ones.” When the three are gathered and returned to unity, this is called “Most High.” They are three, yet not three; one, yet not one. Within the supreme there is also an “above.” True emptiness does not hinder wondrous existence; hence the saying, “From Non-ultimate comes the Supreme Ultimate.” Wondrous existence does not hinder true emptiness; hence the saying, “The Supreme Ultimate is originally Non-ultimate.” This is the Dao of unsurpassed ultimate truth and wondrous awakening. What the Patriarch calls “awakening to the truth” is awakening to precisely this principle.

The methods of Golden Elixir cultivation discussed earlier—including the furnace and cauldron, the ingredients, and the timing of the fire—are all simply tools for understanding. The same is even more true of minor, heterodox methods. Alas, who could grasp these principles without being a supreme practitioner deeply versed in Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism?

This volume has already summarized all the essentials of Golden Elixir cultivation; what follows merely explains them in greater detail. The author and commentator analyze the subject layer by layer, in clear order, and only at the end directly reveal the key to Heaven’s secret. They saw through it clearly. Have the readers understood it too? (General commentary on the upper volume)

Within the volume: sixty-four seven-character quatrains, using trigrams and numbers as symbolic explanations.

The Dao emerges from nothingness as the One Qi, the fundamental energy from which Heaven, Earth, and all things are formed. The One Qi divides into Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang then unite to form the Three Bodies, the three fundamental states; these in turn continue to generate, bringing all things to abundance.

This chapter describes the sequence by which the Great Dao generates the myriad things in its forward movement. The Dao De Jing says, “The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three; Three gives birth to the myriad things.” These lines encompass all things and run through the teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. Yet, regrettably, few have truly understood their meaning.

Originally, the Great Dao has neither direction nor form. It exists undifferentiated within the Great Void, beyond speech and naming. We can only describe it provisionally as “emptiness and nonbeing,” “nature,” or “a state in which Qi has not yet appeared”—that is, a state in which the primordial Qi has not yet become manifest. But as soon as we say “emptiness,” it already has an aspect of substance; as soon as we say “nonbeing,” it already has an aspect of being; as soon as we say “nature,” it already contains the conditions for generating the myriad things. And when we say that Qi has “not yet appeared,” the primordial Qi—the fundamental breath that forms Heaven, Earth, and all things—has in fact already begun to arise. This is what “the Dao gives birth to One” means. Hence the saying, “From emptiness and nonbeing, the Dao gives birth to one Qi.” Zhou Dunyi’s phrase “the Supreme Ultimate emerges from the Non-Ultimate” expresses the same idea.

Once the primordial Qi differentiates, distinctions arise between the clear and the turbid, and between movement and stillness. The moving, clear part rises and becomes Heaven; the still, turbid part sinks and congeals, becoming Earth. This is what “One gives birth to Two” means. Hence the saying, “From one Qi, Yin and Yang are produced.” Zhou Dunyi’s phrase “Yin divides from Yang, and the Two Modes are established” describes the same principle.

Next, the Qi of Heaven descends while the Qi of Earth rises. The two Qi, Yin and Yang, interact, and human beings are born between Heaven and Earth. This is what “Two gives birth to Three” means. Hence the saying, “Yin and Yang unite again to form the three bodies.” Zhou Dunyi’s phrase “The Way of Qian produces the male; the Way of Kun produces the female” likewise describes how the union of Yin and Yang brings forth life.

The primordial Qi fills Heaven and Earth. With the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—now complete, the myriad things each grow and flourish. Whether sentient or insentient, every thing receives its own nature and allotted life. This is what “Three gives birth to the myriad things” means. Hence the saying, “The three bodies reproduce, and the myriad things flourish,” which is also what Zhou Dunyi meant by “the myriad things give birth and transform without end.”

In this chapter, the Patriarch explains the Dao De Jing, unfolding its principles and setting them out as the guiding framework for the sixty-four chapters of the middle section of the Wuzhen Pian. It describes how the Great Dao moves forward to bring forth human beings and the myriad things. To cultivate in reverse along this path of generation and return to the source is the Great Way of the Golden Elixir.

If the “death gate”—the sensory openings that lead people into delusion and drain their vitality—can be transformed into the “life gate,” the openings through which one cultivates a return to the root, then there is no need to cling to what is usually called the “gate of life” as the true path to life.

Only by understanding how the pivotal forces of life and death—the shifting between life and death, loss and gain—repeatedly transform can one see that harm sometimes conceals a benefit.

This chapter explains how the force of death can be transformed into the force of life: through cultivation, one returns to the root. The Scripture on the Hidden Talisman says, “Life is the root of death, and death is the root of life; benefit arises from harm, and harm also arises from benefit.” For people in the world, life and death are both tied to the mind, and the mind’s own life and death are in turn drawn along by external things. Everything that the senses—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—come into contact with, wherever it can easily dissipate one’s vitality, lies at the boundary between life and death.

Why is this so? People often depend on their senses and external things to establish themselves and sustain their lives, treating them as a path to life. This may seem beneficial. Yet people also often lose their innate nature and deplete their lives by becoming immersed in them; in this way, they become harmful. Thus, when one follows desire outward, the gate of life turns into the gate of death, and benefit turns into harm. Only by gathering oneself inward and returning to what is within can the death gate be transformed into the life gate, allowing benefit to arise from harm. When benefit comes from harm, the force of death has turned into the force of life; when harm comes from benefit, the force of life has turned into the force of death. This is the principle by which the pivotal forces of life and death repeatedly transform.

This chapter develops the meaning of the Scripture on the Hidden Talisman. The Dao De Jing focuses on the natural course of the Dao and therefore points directly to the underlying substance of emptiness. The Scripture on the Hidden Talisman focuses on how the Dao is applied, and so gives particular attention to the pivotal transformation between life and death. Ultimately, however, this pivotal force of life and death is simply returning to the root and restoring one’s mandate of life: returning to the source and recovering one’s innate nature.

Misfortune and good fortune have always depended on one another and lain hidden within each other, like a shadow following a form or an echo answering a sound.

If one can transform the pivotal forces of life and death, misfortune may become good fortune in the blink of an eye.

This chapter further explains that transforming the pivotal forces of life and death means returning to the root and restoring one’s mandate of life. Misfortune and good fortune depend on and accompany each other; if one can transform the pivotal forces of life and death, misfortune may become good fortune in the blink of an eye.

This chapter further explains how life and death, calamity and good fortune transform into one another. The Scripture of the Highest Lord on Response and Retribution says, “Calamity and good fortune have no fixed paths; people bring them upon themselves.” These are the teachings of the Most High Lord Lao. Yet the calamities and blessings spoken of by Dao practitioners differ greatly from those spoken of in ordinary life. To understand the constant Dao and return to the root is to seek blessings for oneself; to fail to understand the constant Dao and act recklessly is to bring calamity upon oneself. Do calamity and good fortune not depend on each other and transform into one another, like a shadow following a body or an echo answering a sound?

If one can turn direction in a single thought, the threshold between life and death changes at once. Even those who act recklessly may come to understand the constant Dao and return to the root. The key to change lies only in turning one’s thoughts. Once deluded thoughts are transformed into the constant Dao, one can respond to change accordingly: disaster can become celebration, danger can become good fortune, and calamity can become blessing. In this way, one can grasp the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth, bring the transformations of the myriad things within oneself, and reach a state beyond the control of those transformations, where they cannot take one’s life. The idea that calamity and good fortune depend on each other also comes from the Dao De Jing; it is used here to further explain the repeated changes in the workings of life and death discussed in the previous chapter.

For the Valley Spirit to endure without perishing, one must establish its foundation through the Mysterious Female (the profound source of the Dao).

When true Jing (the pure vital essence spoken of in cultivation) returns to the Golden Chamber (the place where vital essence is stored in Neidan practice), it is like a luminous pearl that is never lost.

This chapter discusses transforming two states into a unified whole: the work of establishing the foundation for the Golden Elixir. The Dao De Jing says, “The Valley Spirit never dies; this is called the Mysterious Female. The gateway of the Mysterious Female is called the root of Heaven and Earth…”

This chapter describes the work of bringing two fundamental forces, originally separate, into unity. This is the practice by which one cultivates the Golden Elixir and establishes its foundation.

The Dao De Jing says: “The Valley Spirit never dies; this is called the Mysterious Female. The gate of the Mysterious Female is called the root of Heaven and Earth.” Here, “Valley Spirit” refers to one’s original nature: “valley” signifies utter emptiness, while “spirit” signifies utter clarity and subtle awareness. Its empty yet wondrous activity is present in this very moment: here and now it is still and unmoving, yet here and now it can respond and reach through all things. It has no beginning that can be traced and no end that can be pointed to. The Valley Spirit was not originally brought forth by anything, so it cannot be said to die. It arises ceaselessly from the unborn, and all things in Heaven and Earth emerge from it. This is what is meant by “The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two.” When this process unfolds in its natural direction, it becomes the generative force that brings forth all things.

To reverse this process and turn decline into vitality, the key is to take the “Mysterious Female” as one’s foundation. In cultivation terminology, the “true Yang within Kan” is called “Mysterious.” It signifies “nothingness within being” and is the “life” lodged in the body. The “true Yin within Li” is called “Female.” It signifies “being within nothingness” and is the “nature” lodged in the mind. When nature and life unite, the foundation of the Golden Elixir is established, and the Valley Spirit naturally endures. Thus it is said: “For the Valley Spirit to endure and never die, one must establish its foundation through the Mysterious Female.”

The two forces, Mysterious and Female, converge in the “Central Yellow”—the pivotal place at the center of the body in Neidan practice. The innate Jing and Qi blend subtly and congeal. This is like the legendary dark pearl that fell into the Red River and was found by Wangxiang: once obtained, it can be kept for a long time and naturally never leaves one’s side. Thus it is said: “Once true Jing has returned to the Golden Chamber, a luminous pearl will never leave one’s side.” “Golden Chamber” is a Neidan term for the inner place where true Jing is stored.

When true Jing returns, the foundation of the Mysterious Female is established; when the dark pearl congeals into form, this is the sign that the Valley Spirit endures and never dies. This is the initial foundation for uniting the two and returning them to the “Golden Chamber,” as well as the wondrous means of turning the momentum of decline and death into vitality.

At the outset, observe the Dao of Heaven and understand the “Five Thieves”—the forces of the Five Phases that generate and overcome one another and drive change. Then examine the “earth” within the body—the foundation of inner cultivation—and bring body and mind to rest.

Only after body and mind are settled and Jing and Qi are abundant can the process of joining and refining begin. When this work is complete, one can behold the “Sage,” one’s innately true nature.

This chapter concerns the practice of “returning to life,” or the effects of Golden Elixir cultivation. Cultivating only one aspect does not constitute the complete Great Dao. To cultivate the Golden Elixir, one must thoroughly understand Yin-Yang change and the transformations of Heaven and Earth. The Yinfu Jing says, “Observe the Dao of Heaven and grasp the principles by which it operates.” It also says, “Heaven has Five Thieves; those who know them will flourish.” Here, the “Five Thieves” refers to the Five Phases. They drive the generation and transformation of all things, and correspond to the processes of generation and transformation within the human body. Without understanding how they generate and overcome one another, one cannot form the Elixir. Thus, to grasp the workings of the Dao of Heaven, one must first observe it; only when inner observation is clear and penetrating can cultivation begin.

The transformations within the human body depend on the “square inch of earth”—a term referring both to the mind and to the foundation of cultivation within the body. This small piece of earth encompasses the functions of both Kan and Li, the trigrams that in the Yijing and Neidan represent Water and Fire, Yin and Yang. When this foundation is clearly discerned, the ruler can be established. Once the ruler is established, the Six Roots—the channels of perception and thought, including the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—return to their source and heed the “Heavenly Sovereign,” the ruler within. This is called “the people are at peace.” The Three Treasures, usually understood as Jing, Qi, and Shen, gather within, and no external harm arises. This is called “the country is prosperous.”

On this foundation, Kan and Li can join, and the Golden Elixir can form. Their union is like a fierce struggle between dragon and tiger: the Six Roots become settled, mental activity ceases, the Five Thieves are restrained and brought under command, and Yin demons are swept away. This is like defeating the enemy. Thereafter, one’s original nature is revealed and the “Sage Embryo,” a term for the inner achievement of Neidan cultivation, takes shape. This is to behold the Sage within oneself. The practice of returning to life must also include “completing nature”: one’s own De must accord with Heaven and Earth. Only then is the Great Dao fulfilled. The next chapter continues by discussing the function of victory.

When directing the forces of cultivation, distinguish the two armies, left and right. Even when the other side occupies the position of host, understand that you are in the position of guest.

I urge you: when you enter the field of battle, never underestimate the enemy, or you may lose your priceless treasure.

This chapter further explains the effects of Golden Elixir cultivation and stresses that one must distinguish “guest” from “host” to return to one’s original nature. “Winning the battle and beholding the Sage” means that, once Golden Elixir cultivation succeeds, one’s true nature emerges and the Dao is thereby perfected. During cultivation, however, one must carefully manage the struggle with Yin and Yang.

The left belongs to Yang, and the right to Yin. The Li trigram represents the sun and is positioned on the left, but what it contains at its center is actually Yin. So although it is on the left, it serves as the “guest.” The Kan trigram represents the great Yin and is positioned on the right, but what it contains at its center is actually Yang. So although it is on the right, it serves as the “host.” This is the meaning of “when deploying the generals, one must distinguish the armies on the left and right.”

Cultivators usually take the realization of one’s nature—the emergence of one’s original true nature—as their guiding aim; this is what the brightness within Li refers to. Yet Li still conceals Yin Qi, namely the discriminating mind-spirit (the acquired consciousness that makes distinctions), so this cannot yet be considered true realization of one’s nature. Kan conceals a trace of true nature that comes from the Qian trigram: the original Qi within Kan, the source of one’s being. It has not yet returned to its proper place, so it is called “other”; yet it is originally something that belongs to oneself, and so it must serve as host. Thus the true Yang within Kan is the host, while the consciousness the cultivator has previously clung to becomes the guest. This is the subtlety of exchanging host and guest and reversing Yin and Yang.

At the beginning of cultivation, one first makes use of the true Yin within Li, turning the light back upon itself. Then one draws forth the true Yang within Kan and returns it to its source. Only when the discriminating mind-spirit has completely faded will true nature emerge. This is like a great general entering battle and first capturing the enemy commander. Once the true seed has been obtained, Yin influences will naturally dissipate.

The measure of advance and retreat depends entirely on regulating the firing process—the careful management of cultivation’s progress and pace. As when facing a powerful enemy, one must not act rashly. If a delusive thought arises while cultivating at the furnace, one may fail to obtain the true Yang within Kan. As the saying goes, “to lose the priceless treasure of our own house”—how could one fail to be cautious? This chapter should be read together with the preceding two chapters to understand the principle of reversing host and guest.

Some heterodox teachings, however, twist phrases such as “underestimating the enemy” and “winning the battle” to justify illicit techniques for gathering Yin, deceiving people and causing them to lose their lives. Those who do this deserve the punishment of thunder while alive and will fall into the Avici Hell after death.

The different names in fact arise from a single source, a point few people understand. Both “being” and “nonbeing” are profound and mysterious; together they hold the key to cultivation.

The Dao De Jing says that by remaining free of desire, one can observe the subtle essence of things; by remaining in a state of desire, one can observe how things manifest and function. It also says that “being” and “nonbeing” arise from the same source, though they have different names. The commentator believes this can be understood through the teaching of the “Mysterious Female” (Xuanpin), which symbolizes the two fundamental functions of “nonbeing” and “being.” Sadly, few people grasp this, so the commentator explains it in detail.

“Constant nonbeing” is the mysterious, Yang, and primary aspect; in the human being, it corresponds to true nature. “Constant being” is the female, Yin, and secondary aspect; in the human being, it corresponds to true life. Viewed separately, they have different names; traced back to their origin, they arise from one source. If practitioners can return from “being” to “nonbeing” and recover their innate nature, they will have grasped the essential method of mysterious cultivation.

Although the essence of “being” and “nonbeing” is the same, their functions differ. Cultivation through action preserves life and should continually increase; cultivation through non-action clarifies nature and calls for gradual reduction. Reduce continually until reaching non-action, and body and spirit alike can attain a wondrous state and transcend transformation.

When water and fire combine to form purple, this is the emblem of the Golden Elixir—the union of nature and life, and the joining of Yin and Yang in Neidan cultivation. The interaction of “being” and “nonbeing,” through which nature and life are cultivated together, is a profound and mysterious principle.

Without understanding the distinction between Yang and Yin, or between the primary and secondary aspects, how can one know which is distant and which is near?

Closing off the “chamber of union” and keeping watch only over the Tail-Lu point, at the base of the spine—how many people in the world have been misled and harmed by this!

This chapter says that cultivating just one thing does not accord with the Dao (the Way). What are called “being” and “nonbeing” both emerge from the mysterious Dao; only through the mutual coordination of Yin and Yang is the Dao formed. Therefore, refining the Golden Elixir requires the dual cultivation of nature and life. The Yin and Yang spoken of in this passage refer directly to nature and life. At the precelestial level, nature and life correspond to Qian and Kun; at the postcelestial level, they correspond to Kan and Li. Each has its own hierarchy and degree of intimacy, and practitioners of the Dao should discern these carefully.

People know only to regard the Li trigram as “nature,” but do not realize that the Yin within Li is the postcelestial cognitive spirit—the consciousness that shifts with external circumstances and runs restlessly from one thing to another. A student of the Dao may have an experience that seems to offer a glimpse of understanding and take it for seeing one’s nature. This is like mistaking a thief for one’s son: taking what is a guest for what is the host, and treating as close what ought to be kept at a distance.

People know only to regard the Kan trigram as “life,” but do not realize that the Yang within Kan is precisely the precelestial nature of Qian, the root that cannot perish even after countless kalpas. Without meeting a clear-sighted teacher, a student of the Dao may instead dismiss it as something outside the body. This is like a poor person who does not know there is a precious pearl hidden in their clothing: taking what is the host for what is a guest, and keeping at a distance what ought to be close. This subtle distinction can lead to a tremendous divergence, so it must be discerned.

Today, people who study the Dao hear of methods of stillness and purity, then firmly close the six gates—the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—sit disheartened and motionless, and allow neither inner activity nor external things to enter. This is exactly the situation described by “closing off the empty chamber and guarding the Tail-Lu point”: cultivating only one thing and becoming solitary Yin. Because they have failed to distinguish host from guest and intimacy from distance, and do not understand the profound Dao, they even guard the wrong thing. The ways in which they mislead people are too many to recount.

In the past, Mazu practiced seated meditation single-mindedly on Mount Heng. The Chan master Huairang of Nanyue asked him, “How can grinding a brick make a mirror?” He then used the analogy of “beating the ox or beating the cart” to guide him, and only then did Mazu suddenly awaken. Understanding this encounter is the key to grasping this chapter.

Few in the world know the Gate of the Mysterious Female—the subtle aperture where Yin and Yang unite and bring forth life. People take only the mouth and nose as the gateways for cultivation, laboring in vain over the breath.

Even if one practiced breathing in and out this way for a thousand years, how could it bring the Golden Crow—the sun, a metaphor for Yang—and the Jade Rabbit—the moon, a metaphor for Yin—into union?

This chapter further clarifies the function of the “Mysterious Female” (the wondrous gateway through which Yin and Yang interact and give birth to the myriad things), which practitioners of heterodox methods cannot understand. The Mysterious Female and the “Valley Spirit” (the Dao’s empty, numinous aspect, ceaselessly bringing forth transformation) are one in essence but have two different functions. Thus one is said to be present and the other absent, and they are respectively symbolized by the crow and the hare. They alternately expand and contract, opening and closing as they transform, setting Heaven and Earth’s Yin and Yang in motion.

The Most High says, “The gate of the Mysterious Female is called the root of Heaven and Earth.” Those who follow heterodox methods do not understand its mystery and mistakenly interpret “continuous, as if it were present” as a breathing technique of exhaling through the mouth and inhaling through the nose. This is a serious misunderstanding. The Mysterious Female refers simply to true Yin and true Yang: the true Yin within the Li trigram, symbolized by the Golden Crow within the sun, and the true Yang within the Kan trigram, symbolized by the Jade Hare within the moon. When the two meet, their positions as host and guest are reversed; they check and join with one another, thereby forming the Golden Elixir. The Scripture of the Hidden Talisman says, “To seize and control it depends on Qi”—this refers to using the movement of Qi to contain and regulate Yin and Yang. If one treats breathing through the mouth and nose as the whole practice, then even after a thousand autumns and ten thousand years, true Yin and true Yang will remain separate. How, then, could one bring forth the wondrous function of the Golden Crow seizing the Hare? This is why the “gate of the Mysterious Female” is known by so few in the world.

Heaven, Earth, and humanity—the Three Powers—draw upon one another, each at its own proper time. This is the key to the Immortals’ cultivation of the Dao.

Once the transformations of the myriad things settle, every kind of thought subsides with them. When all the body’s bones and limbs each accord with their proper principles, one can embody Wuwei (acting in accordance with nature, without forcing things).

This chapter further explains the practice of “returning to the source of life”—restoring life to its origin in the Dao. It begins with deliberate cultivation and ultimately reaches the state of Wuwei (non-action).

The opening passage draws on the Dao De Jing’s statement, “The Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three,” explaining how the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and humanity—come into being. Following the natural course of change is the way of ordinary people; reversing that course can make one a sage. Those who study the Dao can cultivate by drawing on the workings of creation and transformation, and may thereby progress from ordinary life to sagehood. The Yinfu Jing says, “When the three forms of theft are properly aligned, the Three Powers are settled.” It also says, “Eat at the proper time, and the hundred bones will be ordered. Set the mechanism in motion, and the myriad transformations will be at peace.”

In the language of alchemical cultivation, Heaven serves as the cauldron and Earth as the furnace; the essences of the sun and moon serve as the medicines. Living between Heaven and Earth, one follows the cycles of the celestial circuit and their timing. This is a method of cultivation that reverses the action of the Three Powers. It has two aspects.

The first is the Lesser Celestial Circuit practice: take the Yang within the Kan trigram to replenish the Yin within the Li trigram, bringing Water and Fire into harmony. When they unite in the Central Yellow—the central palace in the middle of the body—the Golden Elixir forms in the furnace. The key is to wait for the “living Zi hour” before gathering and refining.

The second involves working with Heaven and Earth on a broader scale: reversing the positions of Kun (Earth) and Qian (Heaven), so that the Qi of Heaven and Earth meet at Kunlun, here referring to a key point within the body. The refined Elixir is then gathered back into the cauldron. The key is to wait for the “true Zi hour,” which serves as the rule for refinement.

These two forms of cultivation connect the inner and outer realms. Only then can the Three Powers unite and the Elixir coalesce. The essential point is to use true intention to harmonize body and mind, bringing the original Jing and original Qi—precelestial essence and vital energy—together and consolidating them. The Grain Spirit, the inward spirit that is still and empty yet luminous, can then endure naturally. People often regard this only as a secret of immortal cultivation, without realizing that it is also a natural effect of cultivating De and gathering the Dao. It is an important path for returning to the root and restoring life.

After refinement, body and mind become settled. The Celestial Ruler—the spirit of the heart—holds the center, quiet and unmoving. The original Qi flows throughout the five sense organs, the limbs, every joint, and the pores, and all returns to its proper position in the Central Yellow. This is like the North Star remaining in its place while the stars naturally circle around it; it is also like Yang energy returning to a cold valley, bringing spring back everywhere on Earth. In this way, each thing settles into its own nature and life while preserving harmony as a whole. At this point, transformations are settled, stray thoughts cease, and the body flows freely; one can reach the state of Wuwei.

This chapter describes the union of the Three Powers and their return to unity, moving from deliberate cultivation into the state of Wuwei. It thus echoes the opening chapter. Drawing on the effects of cultivation described in the Yinfu Jing, it accords with the natural Dao described in the Dao De Jing. The workings return to their source: the restoration of life is accomplished together with the cultivation of one’s nature.

The precious text of the Yinfu Jing contains only a little over three hundred characters, while the wondrous chapters of the Daode Jing number just five thousand.

To speak now of “entering Wuwei (non-action)” accords with the purpose of the first chapter of the Daode Jing. This means applying the methods described in the Yinfu Jing in harmony with the natural Dao—the Way—described in the Daode Jing: gathering all functions back to their root, thereby completing the cultivation of life and also realizing the cultivation of one’s nature.

The precious text of the Yinfu Jing contains only a little over three hundred characters, while the wondrous chapters of the Daode Jing number just five thousand.

Immortals throughout the ages are countless, and in the end they all came to understand the true meaning of the Great Dao through these texts.

This chapter summarizes the purpose of the two classics and explains the source and development of the Great Dao. Without a teacher to transmit it, the Great Dao is difficult to receive; without confirmation from the classics, it is difficult to establish. The classics are credentials for the transmission of the mind’s teachings from sages across the generations. Daoism’s “Three Caverns of True Scriptures” (the system for classifying Daoist texts) comprises thousands of volumes. Yet the Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing alone are honored as the classics that founded schools and laid their foundations, because the Dao they teach connects Heaven and humanity. They offer genuine methods for investigating principle, fully understanding one’s nature, and completing the cultivation of life.

The purposes of the two classics are both the same and different: they may seem opposed, yet they are not entirely so. The Daode Jing directly points to the root of nature, unfolding from nonbeing into being; its principles of cultivation chiefly follow the natural course. The Yinfu Jing, by contrast, focuses on how to return to the root, moving from being back to nonbeing; its principles of cultivation chiefly work through reversal. For example, the text first speaks of “one Qi born from emptiness and nonbeing,” which follows the natural course. It then speaks of “knowing the constant and returning to the root,” turning toward reversal. To say that the myriad things “emerge from the same source but receive different names” follows the natural course; the subsequent instruction to “observe the Earth and bring peace to the people” turns toward reversal. In speaking of the mystery of the “Valley Spirit,” it first lays a foundation in the “Mysterious Female,” which symbolizes the source from which Heaven and Earth generate the myriad things. This appears to follow the natural course, yet also contains an element of reversal. The principle by which all things steal from one another ultimately still has to be understood through knowing the constant and returning to the root. In the end, attaining Wuwei contains an element of following the natural course even within reversal.

It is clear, then, that the being and nonbeing discussed in the Daode Jing and the Yinfu Jing are inseparable, and that nature and life arise from the same source. The language of both classics is extremely concise, yet their meaning is profound: the Yinfu Jing has only a little over three hundred characters, and the Daode Jing no more than five thousand. Still, immortals and sages throughout the ages have gained immense benefit for their cultivation from them. Those who later wrote books and established teachings never went beyond the scope these classics encompass. They are indeed genuine methods for investigating principle, fully understanding one’s nature, and cultivating life to completion.

The Cantong qi presents the utmost truth through discourses and verse, yet does not put the specific methods of the firing process into words.

To understand the points in the oral instructions that open onto profound mysteries, one must seek careful guidance from an immortal—a Daoist adept who has attained the Way, or a teacher accomplished in cultivation.

This chapter says that the secrets of the firing process must be transmitted by a master. The Yinfu Jing and the Daode Jing set out the essential foundations of cultivation, serving as a compass for generations of Daoists. Yet they speak directly of the supreme Dao of returning to the root and restoring life, without using the various terms of alchemical texts. In the Han dynasty, the perfected Wei Boyang wrote the Cantong qi on the basis of the hexagrams of the Zhouyi, establishing alchemical terms such as the cauldron and furnace, the ingredients, and the firing process. Broadly speaking, Qian and Kun represent the cauldron and furnace; Kan and Li represent the ingredients; and the other sixty hexagrams represent the circuit of the heavens—the metaphor for the process and rhythms of Neidan cultivation. Its meaning is deep and its language subtle, which is why it is regarded as the pioneering work of alchemical literature.

Afterward, treatises, scriptures, and verses appeared one after another. Though their accounts differed, all used metaphor to explain the supreme Dao. The text speaks of terms such as hexagram lines and ounces, and of sequences such as years, months, days, and hours. These are only terms for the firing process. The true oral instructions are concealed within, but never stated plainly. Their mysteries must be transmitted in person by a realized master, who can reveal the key in a single sentence. Only then can old words on the page become a living source. The perfected Ziqing’s saying that “half a sentence in all can unlock ten thousand volumes of alchemical texts” expresses precisely this principle. Otherwise, even if you think you understand, you are like someone viewing flowers through a mirror or trying to grasp the moon in water: you still do not know where to find insight or how to begin.

Even if your intelligence surpasses that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian, disciples of Confucius renowned for their virtue, do not try to guess at the teachings if you have not received them from a master.

Since the alchemical texts do not spell out the oral instructions, how could I teach you where to form the spirit embryo—the name for the fruit of internal cultivation in Neidan?

This chapter says that without a master’s guidance, it is difficult to truly understand the Great Way of cultivating the Golden Elixir. The previous chapter said that the oral formula must be transmitted by a master, and this is indeed so. Some may think that exceptionally intelligent people in the world need not rely on a master. Yet they do not know that one may realize one’s nature on one’s own, while the Way of nature and life must be learned from a master. From ancient times to the present, no one has realized the Great Way of fully fulfilling nature and reaching life’s utmost without a master’s lineage.

The Yellow Emperor once visited Master Guangcheng on Mount Kongtong, and Confucius went especially to seek instruction from Laozi, the archivist beneath the pillars. Surely the wisdom of these two sages surpassed that of Yan Hui and Min Ziqian? Yet they still sought a master and pursued the Way with such diligence. This shows that the Great Way is subtle and profound, and cannot be guessed at. For example, the principles of knowing constancy and returning to the root, and observing Earth and contemplating Heaven, as discussed in the Scripture of the Hidden Tally and the Scripture of the Dao and De, may seem to lie right before us. But without a true master’s guidance, they are like trying to scoop the moon from water or seeing flowers in a mirror: one has no idea where to begin. Later alchemical scriptures speak of secrets such as the ingredients and the firing process, often using indirect metaphors and elaborate explanations, with unusual names that can leave readers bewildered and alarmed. Even understanding them is difficult, let alone following their methods to cultivate and form the sacred embryo.

Those who study the Dao should promptly seek out a true master and obtain the genuine essentials, rather than waste their time. Does this mean that alchemical scriptures are of no use? No. The genuine formulas are already in the alchemical scriptures; they simply need a true master to illuminate them. It is like the story of Zhang Sengyou’s painted dragon: before its eyes were added, it was only a dragon painted on a wall. Once the eyes were dotted in, it broke through the wall and flew away. The secret of dotting in the eyes lies in the true master’s guidance.

In a dream, I paid homage to Xihua, the immortal realm in the West, and ascended to the ninth Heaven. A perfected one gave me the Finger-Pointing Guide, a text that explains the mysterious Way.

The text is concise and says little; it simply teaches people to refine mercury and lead. Mercury and lead are terms in Neidan cultivation, often used to refer to Yin-Yang essence and Qi within the body, and the process of refining them.

This chapter says that the core of the true oral instructions passed down by a master lies in two things: “Mercury” and “Lead.” “Mercury” has no fixed form or substance, and serves as a metaphor for the True Void contained within wondrous being. “Lead” has form and substance, and serves as a metaphor for the wondrous being contained within the True Void. In Daoist Neidan terminology, “wondrous being” and “True Void” refer respectively to the life force latent within emptiness and the source on which that life force depends.

The True Void within wondrous being is the precelestial original nature, associated with the Qian trigram. The wondrous being within the True Void is the precelestial original life, associated with the Kun trigram. In the postcelestial stage, original nature is lodged in the heart, so Qian becomes Li; the empty space at the center of Li is True Mercury. Original life is lodged in the body, so Kun becomes Kan; the solid line at the center of Kan is True Lead.

Those who cultivate the Dao must draw the yang line out of Kan and place it into the yin line of Li. Only then can they restore the original precelestial form of Qian. This is the refining and transformation of the postcelestial Lead and Mercury to form the Golden Elixir. When the two substances unite as one and transform into a single precelestial Qi, they are called True Lead. At this point they seem to have returned to a single substance; this is called the “external medicine.” The next step is to gather and refine it further, so that a spark of numinous Qi settles in the Yellow Court—the part of the body where elixir Qi is condensed in Neidan practice—and forms a sacred embryo. This is called the “internal medicine.”

Afterward, one must “draw out Lead and add to Mercury,” tempering them again and again until they return to emptiness. Only then are they called True Mercury. When the Lead is exhausted and the Mercury dried up, one can transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred. This is the refinement of precelestial Qi to form the Great Returning Elixir. In general, True Lead symbolizes the body, while True Mercury symbolizes the mind and spirit: refining True Lead brings the work of life to completion, and refining True Mercury brings the work of nature to completion. When both nature and life have been cultivated, the Great Dao is complete. Is this not the most concise and accessible transmission of the true teaching?

In the past, Patriarch Zhang Ziyang (Zhang Boduan) personally visited Patriarch Liu Haichan on Mount Qingcheng in Chengdu, western Shu, and received the secret instructions for the Golden Elixir. Later, after being punished for transmitting the secret instructions incorrectly, he concealed his name in his writings and also hid his lineage. The subtle passages about nature and life in this text were all spoken to him by Patriarch Liu, but he presented them as a dream, with profound intent. He wrote “Western Hua” in place of “western Shu,” and “transmitted in a dream” in place of “truly transmitted.” He also used the words “pointing to the mysterious” as an indirect reference to the Awakening to Reality. These are all flexible, cryptic expressions. To take them as specific, fixed methods of cultivation is like believing the dreams of a fool.

What is used in cultivation must be true Lead (the primordial Qi of the precelestial state); ordinary Lead (postcelestial essence and Qi) must not be mistaken for it. Even after attaining true Lead, one must ultimately let it go. This is the secret of how to use true Lead.

This chapter explains the wondrous use of true Lead. The previous chapter discussed Lead and Mercury together; this one speaks only of true Lead to point out the great medicine of the Golden Elixir and show practitioners where to begin. True Lead is the primordial Qi of the precelestial state, arising from emptiness and nothingness; ordinary Lead is postcelestial essence and Qi. If Kan and Li (the two forces symbolizing water and fire, Yin and Yang, in Daoist Neidan) are taken as the point of reference, all ordinary essence and Qi within the body count as ordinary Lead. If the primordial Qi of the precelestial state is the reference, then the utmost Yin essence in Li and the utmost Yang Qi in Kan still belong to ordinary Lead. Only when Kan and Li unite and produce a single point of the true seed can it be called true Lead. True Lead is the Golden Elixir: what is called the primordial Qi of the precelestial state arising from emptiness and nothingness.

Once practitioners recognize this true seed, they gather it and refine it. This is called “returning the Elixir through the Golden Liquor.” They must then nurture it gently, as if caring for an infant, and continue to diminish postcelestial impurities until they return to emptiness and nothingness, eliminating all postcelestial Yin residue so that body and mind become wholly pure and undivided. At this point, the precelestial Dharma body is complete and clear, merged with the vastness of space. One lets go even of true Lead, much less ordinary Lead.

Thus, cultivation may seem at first to require the use of Lead, yet in the end one clings even to true Lead no longer. One moves from deliberate practice into the realm of Wuwei (non-action), completing the cultivation of nature and life and attaining the cultivation of nature. The wondrous secret transmitted by Xihua (an immortal said to have imparted cultivation techniques) is precisely the essential teaching passed from heart to heart by the patriarchs through the generations. An old poem says: “They speak of using Lead, and they speak of not using Lead; the work must be done within Lead. When it is truly time to use Lead, to cling to using Lead is a mistake.” This explains the principle of using without clinging to use, and of not using while making wondrous use—the reversal of opposites. Throughout this text, “true Lead” should be understood in this sense.

When bamboo breaks, mend it with bamboo; when a chick is to hatch, use an egg to hatch it. With things that are unlike one another, even exhausting every effort is futile. How could they compare with True Lead joining with the principles that accord with the Great Dao?

This chapter further explains that True Lead is the genuine seed from which the Reverted Elixir is refined. True Lead is originally the precelestial One Qi—the primordial vital energy that existed before Heaven and Earth took shape—and does not belong to any concrete form. Yet to draw it forth, one must rely on something postcelestial that is of the same kind. Without precelestial Qi, postcelestial things cannot transform; without postcelestial things, precelestial Qi has nothing through which it can be attracted and gathered.

The utmost Yin essence within Li and the utmost Yang Qi within Kan, though postcelestial, are the source from which True Lead arises. When the two unite, True Lead naturally comes forth. The subtlety of attracting and gathering it is like mending bamboo with bamboo or hatching a chick from an egg: it seems to bring something from nothing, but in truth it is a return to the root and a restoration of the source. When a postcelestial form is illuminated and transformed by True Lead, it can transcend the ordinary and enter the sacred. If one leaves aside the functions of Kan and Li—the two opposing Yin-Yang forces in alchemy—and uses things that are unlike one another, how could one draw forth True Lead and accord with the wondrous workings of the Great Dao?

Before the Reverted Elixir is refined, do not retreat to the mountains. Nothing you see, near or far, in the mountains is Lead.

This incomparably precious treasure is present in every household; it is simply that people of the world often fail to recognize it fully.

This chapter explains the function of “true lead”: cultivation should not focus solely on stillness and guarding the mind. When Kan and Li—representing Water and Fire, and also the forces of Yin and Yang—come together, they are called true lead. True lead is the Golden Elixir. After obtaining it, one must further gather and refine it; only then is the process called “returning the elixir through the liquid of gold.” Once the returning elixir has been refined, nine years of facing the wall in cultivation follow. The mind must remain unstained by even a trace of worldly thought, and be empty and still before the myriad forms of experience. Only then does one meet the model of cultivation in seclusion deep in the mountains.

Before the returning elixir has been refined, one should seek the conditions for cultivation amid the world. If one gives up at this stage, closes the eyes, and shuts the “six windows”—the six kinds of perception and mental activity: sight, hearing, smell, taste, bodily sensation, and thought—severing oneself from the outside world, where could the external medicine come from? Hence the saying: “Until the returning elixir is complete, do not retreat to the deep mountains. Whatever you encounter in the mountains, before or behind, is not lead.”

The substance of true lead comes from the precelestial realm and is originally present in everyone, but without a genuine teacher to point it out, it is hard to recognize. It is neither ordinary medicinal substances such as metals and stones, nor the impure, heterodox thing called “the other household,” nor the essence and Qi within the body. If, after ruling these out, one simply quiets the mind and turns inward, one may still end up cultivating an isolated thing and fall into the mistaken view that one’s nature can be extinguished. In this way, searching for true lead by entering the deep mountains will ultimately prove fruitless. Sadly, without guidance from a true teacher, people may pass this supreme treasure by even when it is right before them. Hence the saying: “This supreme treasure is in every household, yet people of the world often fail to recognize it fully.” This chapter concerns the work of restoring one’s mandate. Its point is that cultivation should not speak only of stillness and guarding oneself in the mountains. The chapter is unusual, and should be read alongside the two poems in the Wuzhen Pian that discuss being amid the bustle of the city and guarding the coccyx in stillness; only then can its deeper meaning be understood.

The principle of “emptying the mind and filling the belly” is profound. The difficulty is that one must first recognize the original mind in order to empty the mind. It is better to refine lead first and fill the belly; for now, guard and accumulate a hall full of Golden Elixir.

This chapter teaches that establishing one’s life comes before realizing one’s nature. The Dao De Jing says, “Empty the mind and fill the belly.” The saying has far-reaching meaning, but people of the world often fail to fill the belly first. That is why this chapter proposes refining lead and accumulating the Golden Elixir first.

This chapter explains that in cultivation, establishing life comes before realizing one’s nature. The Dao De Jing says, “Empty the heart and fill the belly.” These words carry deep meaning, which people often find hard to grasp. “Filling the belly” refers to deliberate cultivation practices that strengthen the foundation of life—that is, bringing life to completion. “Emptying the heart” refers to the subtle workings of Wuwei (non-action), through which one realizes one’s nature—that is, bringing nature to completion.

The heart’s original nature is empty, luminous, and vast, like the Great Void. It contains all phenomena yet clings to none. If a single thought can turn back and recognize directly one’s original face, the heart will naturally become empty and still. This is the method for those of superior capacity: they realize nature first, then bring life to completion. In other words, they cultivate the upper pass first, which in turn activates the two lower passes. People of middling or lesser capacity often do not know how to proceed at this point. It is therefore better for them to refine “lead” first, filling the belly and stabilizing life’s foundation, then gradually come to realize their nature.

Yet true lead is not easy to refine. Ordinary people’s minds are often pulled along by scattered thoughts and desires, forever chasing things outside themselves and dissipating their innate Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit). It is like having a hall full of gold and jade but being unable to keep it safe. How can it be preserved? Gather the gaze and restrain the hearing, so that the heart and spirit no longer race outward. In this way, the paths of dissipation are cut off, and the primordial Qi that exists innately can be drawn forth. When the six senses—eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind—settle and return to their innate state, this is true lead. Once true lead is obtained, life’s foundation can remain firm for a long time, and the “belly” is filled first. Through continued, repeated cultivation, one can move from deliberate practice into the realm of Wuwei, until one’s nature is fully realized and clearly understood, and the heart, in turn, becomes empty and still.

“Emptying the heart” and “filling the belly” correspond respectively to bringing nature and life to completion. Their functions differ, but in the end they return to one. Thus, although the Sage’s meaning is profound, it is not beyond understanding. The preceding chapters have all clarified the subtle workings of innate true lead. Refining true lead must begin with “taking Kan to fill Li”—a practice of harmonizing Yin-Yang symbolized by Kan and Li. The discussion now turns to these two emblems, Kan and Li.

The sun occupies the position of Li yet is associated with Yin, while the moon corresponds to the Moon Palace, the Toad Palace, yet is associated with Yang. Anyone who does not understand this principle of Yin-Yang reversal should not make grand pronouncements based on superficial understanding.

This chapter discusses the mystery of “reversing Kan and Li” and the origin of true lead. The key to refining the Golden Elixir lies in true lead, whose use depends on the two trigrams Kan and Li.

The Li trigram symbolizes the sun. It represents the true Fire within Great Yin-Yang and also symbolizes the father Qian of the Earlier Heaven trigrams. When the single Yang line of Qian is damaged, it becomes Li; thus the image of the father Qian changes into the middle daughter. The Kan trigram symbolizes the moon. It represents the true Water within Great Yin and also symbolizes the mother Kun of the Earlier Heaven trigrams. When the middle line of Kun changes, it becomes Kan; thus the image of the mother Kun changes into the middle son. This is the reversal by which the Earlier Heaven transforms into the Later Heaven.

If this transformation is then reversed, the Yin line in Li returns to Kun, and the Yang line in Kan returns to Qian. Yin and Yang each return to their proper kind, and the Later Heaven once again becomes the Earlier Heaven. Those who speak of the Great Dao without understanding this reversal are like people peering at the sky through a bamboo tube—a foolish sight. The patriarchs repeatedly lamented that people speak recklessly of the Dao without understanding its principles. The mystery of this reversal will be explained in detail in the next chapter.

The mercury of the Zhen Dragon emerges from the land of Li;

the gold of the Dui Tiger is born in the quarter of Kan.

These two things arise through their mutual relationship as mother and child;

the Qi of the Five Phases must ultimately return to the center.

This chapter explains how the functions of Metal and Wood ultimately return to true Earth. In the Way of the Elixir, Water…

This chapter says that the functions of Metal and Wood must ultimately return to true Earth. The Way of the Elixir (the practice of internal alchemy) takes Water and Fire as its foundation, corresponding to Kan and Li; Metal and Wood serve as its functions, corresponding to Zhen and Dui. In the end, the Four Images—Water, Fire, Metal, and Wood—all depend on the two foundations of Water and Fire.

In the directions of the Later Heaven Bagua (Eight Trigrams), Zhen is in the east, corresponding to Li’s position in the Earlier Heaven arrangement. Thus the Wood-Mercury within Zhen comes from the southern Fire of Li: this is “the Dragon emerging from within Fire.” Dui is in the west, corresponding to Kan’s position in the Earlier Heaven arrangement. Thus the Lead-Metal within Dui comes from the northern Water of Kan: this is “the Tiger born within Water.” Fire instead gives birth to Wood, and Water in turn gives birth to Metal, so the positions of mother and child are reversed. Hence the saying: “These two things are both born from child to mother.” Three in the east, two in the south, one in the north, and four in the west ultimately converge in the central Yellow True Earth—the true intention that resides at the center and harmonizes the Four Images. Only then can the Golden Elixir be refined. Hence the saying: “The Five Phases must all return to the center.”

The previous chapter explained how Water and Fire are established as the foundation; this chapter explains how Metal and Wood perform their functions. Together, they complete the Four Images. The key lies in the true Earth at the center.

If Kan and Li lack Wu and Ji, then although they contain the Four Images, they cannot produce the Elixir.

Only because each contains true Earth can the Golden Elixir return.

This chapter explains the function of true Earth: it harmonizes the Four Images and enables the Golden Elixir to be refined. True Earth is another name for “true intention.” When true intention is still and unmoving, it is called Ji Earth; when stirred in response and put into action, it is called Wu Earth. Their essence is one, but their functions are two. The root of true Earth is at the center, while its function appears within Kan and Li: Kan contains Wu, and Li contains Ji. If Wu Earth cannot circulate and return to Ji Earth, Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire will scatter in different directions, and the Elixir cannot be refined. Only when true intention is activated can it harmonize body and mind, gather and settle the hun souls, and unite the Four Images as one. Returning to the source and recovering the origin then takes place in an instant, and the great Golden Elixir condenses from this. Surely the function of true Earth is immense.

Fire is born from Wood and already conceals a sharp edge within it. If you do not understand how to investigate and refine it, do not force yourself to act.

Collect and settle the body and mind, bring the hun and po souls back to rest, and unite the Four Images—the forces that interact in alchemical practice. Returning to the root and restoring the source takes only an instant; the Great Medicine of the Golden Elixir forms from this. Is the role of True Earth, the balanced Qi that harmonizes and governs the various forces, not of great importance?

Fire is born within wood and is hidden there, unseen. If you do not understand the principle at work, do not force yourself to investigate it or try to subdue it by force.

Trouble often arises in this way and ends up harming you. To bring it under control, you must seek the “Metal Lord.”

This chapter discusses how Metal and Wood restrain one another. The previous chapter spoke generally of the Four Images returning to Wu and Ji Earth, describing the wondrous workings of the Golden Elixir as a whole. This chapter explains the principles in detail. Wood symbolizes the innate stillness of human nature; fire born in wood symbolizes emotions stirred into motion by external things. Emotions are originally concealed within nature and are inherently still. But when the six sense faculties—eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mind—meet the external world and encounter circumstances, they become attached to things at every turn, giving rise to deluded thoughts. In an instant, anger and desire emerge. Once they arise, anger and desire burn away the original Qi of inner harmony.

This is like fire hidden in wood, still and quiet until wood is drilled to kindle a flame. Then the blaze and smoke rise, and the fire may in turn consume the wood. This is what it means to say that once trouble breaks out, it eventually turns back and harms you. How could you investigate and suppress it by force, relying on selfish motives and cleverness? To truly bring it under control, you must rely on “Metal within Water,” a Neidan term for the force that steadies and restrains wandering thoughts.

Wood is light and buoyant, while Metal is steady and substantial. Wood Mercury, a metaphor for shifting, unsettled emotions, is prone to scatter. When it encounters Metal Lead, a metaphor for stillness and composure, it is naturally brought under control. Then, whenever the six sense faculties meet the external world, they can be gathered in at once. Only then can consciousness be transformed into wisdom and emotion returned to nature, allowing the Water of stillness—the clear, settled state of mind—to remain pure, and the Fire of wisdom to shine without interruption. Anger subsides without deliberate punishment, and desire ceases without being forcibly blocked; the mind thus returns to stillness. Once Metal restrains Wood, Water also restrains Fire, and trouble can no longer break out and turn back to harm you. This is the subtle art of the Golden Elixir’s inversion and transformation.

The Metal Lord is originally the son of the Eastern household, but he was sent to live and be born in the Western neighbor’s home. If you recognize him, call him back home and nurture him well; then let him become the companion of the Maiden (a Neidan term, often referring to another force that works in conjunction with the Metal Lord).

This chapter discusses “introducing lead into mercury”: taking the true Yang from Kan and joining it with the true Yin from Li. Through the symbolic language of alchemy, it explains the union of Yin and Yang.

According to the ancient Xi Yi—the primal Bagua said to have been transmitted by Fuxi—Li lies in the east and Kan in the west. Thus “the eastern household” and “the western neighbor” serve as metaphors. “Metal Lord” refers to the true Yang within the Kan trigram. When Qian is diminished, it becomes Li; when true Yang falls into the place of Kun, it becomes Kan. This is like the son of the eastern household being fostered in the western neighbor’s home. Though the true Yang has wandered outside, its features remain faintly recognizable, so it must be identified quickly.

If true intent can serve as the intermediary, drawing the true Yang from Kan and joining it with the true Yin from Li, then allowing the two to enter the “earthen crucible”—an alchemical term for the inner place where Yin and Yang unite—Metal’s disposition and Wood’s nature will harmonize of themselves, and the Golden Elixir will be refined. This is like the Maiden of Charm, symbolizing true Yin, joining with the Metal Lord and giving birth to a child, symbolizing the elixir brought to completion. This, too, expresses the subtle principle of Yin and Yang exchanging places and joining.

The Maiden of Charm moves in different directions: her forward movement should be short, and her backward movement long. On returning, she enters the dwelling of the Yellow Matron, who symbolizes the intermediary that harmonizes Yin and Yang, and marries the Metal Lord as his wife.

This chapter discusses “using mercury to cast lead”: using the true Yang in the Kan trigram (lead, symbolizing innate Yang Qi) to regulate the flowing pearl in the Li trigram (mercury, symbolizing the acquired mind and spirit).

The flowing pearl in the Li Palace is a metaphor for the acquired mind. Its nature is restless: it often chases after things before it, lingers among external circumstances, and refuses to settle, like a woman who loves to roam. In truth, this mind is originally a single body of Jing and Qi, clearly manifesting in six functions. When it comes into contact with the six sense organs (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) and the six sense objects (forms, sounds, smells, tastes, tangible things, and mental objects), it rushes about day and night in whatever direction it turns. When will it ever come to rest? If one continually engages with the outside world and observes things, one can easily invite error. Only by gathering the mind and withdrawing it inward can one become settled and find a place to abide.

Just as a woman’s stay at her parents’ home should be brief and her stay in her husband’s home long, each has its proper place to live and establish a life. Hence it is said: “The Enchantress (a metaphor for the mind and spirit) travels in her own direction; her outward journey should be brief, and her return should be long.” Those who cultivate the Dao must continually turn their thoughts back and reflect inwardly, gathering this restless, shifting mind and spirit into the Central Yellow Spirit Chamber (an inner cultivation symbol for the place at the center of body and mind), then taking the true Yang from the Kan trigram to subdue it. This is like a woman who, after marrying, settles into the household and supports her husband, no longer wandering at will. Hence it is said: “On her return, she enters the Yellow Woman’s dwelling (the Yellow Woman symbolizes the medium that harmonizes Kan and Li) and marries the Golden Lord as her old husband (the Golden Lord symbolizes the nature of Metal, or true Yang).”

The one Yang taken from the Li Palace and returned to the Kan trigram transforms it into the Qian trigram, assuming the image of the “old husband.” This is the same idea repeatedly discussed in the previous chapter: there, a man and a woman are brought together as a pair; here, a woman marries a man. Both use the inversion of Kan and Li as a metaphor for inner cultivation. The patriarch uses marriage between men and women in the world to explain cultivation beyond the world, taking pains to make the teaching accessible to those who study the Dao. One must not cling to the literal meaning of “man” and “woman” and mistake it for something obscene, thereby inviting grave blame.

Take the solid Yang at the center of Kan to transform the Yin within Li;

From this, transform into the Qian trigram’s vigorous body, whose concealment or manifestation is governed by the mind.

This chapter speaks directly of “taking Kan to fill Li”: taking the true Yang from Kan and replenishing Li with it, thereby restoring the body of the Qian trigram. This is the key to Golden Elixir cultivation. It transforms the Yin within the Li Palace into the vigorous body of Qian; whether it is gathered and concealed or manifested and put into action is determined by the mind.

This chapter deals directly with “taking Kan to fill Li,” restoring the postcelestial Li trigram to the precelestial Qian trigram. This is the key to cultivating the Golden Elixir. Since “The Chapter on the Sun Dwelling in the Position of Li” described the inversion of Qian and Kun and their transformation into Kan and Li, the chapters that follow have repeatedly expounded on Kan and Li.

In the postcelestial arrangement, Kan is in the north and Li in the south, corresponding to the precelestial Qian and Kun. Postcelestial Zhen is in the east and Dui in the west, corresponding to the precelestial Kan and Li. Water and fire are the fundamental nature of Kan and Li; metal and wood are their functions. Kan contains Wu and Li contains Ji; together they are called “true Earth” (the power that harmonizes Yin and Yang). True Earth can harmonize water and fire and coordinate metal and wood. Metal and wood are also likened to the dragon and tiger, while water and fire are likened to lead and mercury. Lead is also called the “Golden Lord,” mercury the “Maiden,” and true Earth the “Yellow Matron.” Though these names are many, they ultimately all refer to Kan and Li.

The single Yang within Kan still retains the nature of the precelestial Qian trigram and symbolizes the “Dao mind,” the original mind in accord with Heaven’s principles. The Yin within Li bears the qualities of the postcelestial Kun trigram and symbolizes the “human mind,” which is easily swayed by selfish desires. The Dao mind is naturally pure and aligned with Heaven’s principles, while the human mind can hardly avoid lapsing into selfish desires. Those who cultivate the Dao should observe the Way of Heaven and grasp…