《还丹复命篇》

Alas, once people have a body, they remain for a long time confused and benighted. Fame and profit disturb the mind, and right and wrong injure their resolve; day after day they gradually form shallow, grudging habits. Not knowing to aspire to the great Dao (the Way), they grow ever more distant from it. In truth the supreme Dao is not far away; it has all along been right before the eyes. Thus the immortal Jing (scriptures) say: “The great Dao spreads broad and flows everywhere; turn left or turn right, and one may meet it.” Even if someone who has attained the Dao wishes to point the way and open another’s understanding, who will believe it? My own knowledge is slight, and these reckless words are not enough to convince anyone. To speak to the world of the golden cauldron and the reverted elixir—a path of cultivation described in the language of alchemy—is especially unfitting; those who possess the Dao will understand of themselves.

The companions in the Dao whom I followed in my early years were mostly people who inquired into original nature and into principle. If in one’s practice some entanglement is still unfinished, one remains after all within the round of birth and death. As for passing away in seated transformation, dying while standing, or being reborn by entering a womb or by seizing another’s body, I have never seen anyone who by these means became thoroughly liberated in a single morning. I have reflected on this: Confucius stressed the exhaustive investigation of affairs and the full clarification of one’s nature, and thereby the penetration of Heaven’s mandate; Laozi spoke of ascending in flight and soaring aloft. From this one may know that the intent of the sages cannot be understood from one side alone.

In the gengzi year of the Xuanhe era (1120), I received an oral instruction transmitted by an utmost person: the root of the great Dao is nothing other than the one Qi (vital energy), and from this one Qi the various transformations take form. Likened to the sun and moon, it is called dragon and tiger; spoken of in its own terms, it is Yin-Yang; figured through Heaven and Earth, it is compared to them. Clear Qi and turbid Qi act upon one another, and Metal and Wood meet at the gate of wu and ji—a pivotal aperture of central harmonization, named in the terminology of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Nature and emotion are bound to one another, and Yin and Yang gather at the door of engendering and slaying, a pivotal aperture symbolizing the transformations of life. One takes up the Qi from before Heaven and Earth had divided, gathers the Jing (essence) and Qi of dragon and tiger at their first conjunction, receives them into the yellow chamber—a Neidan (internal alchemy) term for the core site of refining and nourishing—and refines them into the supreme treasure. There are, besides, corresponding images, crucial points, and the wondrous operation of returning to the root and restoring the original. The secret of long life lies within these matters.

Only then did I understand that the great Dao is not elaborate, yet one must meet an utmost person who transmits the oral instruction before one can reach what is genuine and essential. What I had laboriously investigated over several decades was for the most part only the remaining threads of the sages’ teachings. Only now have I begun to understand that the myriad things have a principle of neither shifting nor changing. Only when Yin and Yang join is it called the Dao; if one leans toward Yin or toward Yang alone, it becomes an affliction. The revolving mechanism of dragon and tiger, and the principle by which Metal and Wood are matched, are precisely the essentials of this true instruction. Having heard it, I believed it without doubt. Cultivating in accordance with it, I was indeed able to enter the realm of the sages.

I have heard that profound intent is scattered through the Six Jing and the historical records. The Classic of Changes says: “Male and female conjoin, and from this the myriad things are transformed and born.” Does this not make plain the mechanism of the great Dao? The ancients examined the Jing and the histories in detail, yet they often sought principle in purposive matters such as humaneness, righteousness, ritual, and music, and so seemed to stand opposite the Dao of Wuwei (non-action). In the past, among the scholars and officials of the Zou-Lu region, not a few could understand this level of meaning; in recent times such people have become rare.

Following the oral instruction transmitted by my teacher, I composed sixteen poems in five-character lines, to correspond to the number “two eights, one jin”; I also wrote thirty quatrains in seven-character lines, to correspond to the thirty-day course of cultivation; and I further added nine pieces to the tune “West River Moon,” to correspond to the method of nourishment through the “nine reversions.” In the poems I distinguish the gathering and refining of the medicines, the generation and conquest among the Five Phases, the sequence of host and guest, the waxing and waning of punishment and De (Virtue/Power), together with the use of extracting and adding, the firing times, and the measures of weight. Those who love the great Dao ought to read them with care; if this accords with the conditions of a former life, they will of themselves meet a fitting occasion. Although the writing is shallow, what it says is in every case a matter of actual substance.

In the autumn of the bingwu year of the Jingkang era (1126), Xue Daoguang wrote a preface.

Sixteen Poems in Five-Character Regulated Verse

The first tells of a numinous and wondrous presence that holds within it the very substance of life. Originally nameless, it arises of itself from nature. The Red Dragon, symbolizing Yang Qi (vital energy), lies hidden between Heaven and Earth, while the White Tiger, symbolizing Yin Qi, is concealed in the Dantian (energy center), the place in the abdomen where Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) is practiced. The Northern Dipper seems to extend southward and come to rest between the eyebrows and the eyelashes. The mind must be as still as ashes. One circulates Water and Fire, that is, Yin-Yang Qi, settles the breathing, and seeks True Lead, a Neidan term for the crucial factor required in refining the elixir.

The second takes Jing (essence) and Qi as the root, while Shen (spirit) and the numinous are originally of one family. If one can subdue the Five Thieves, commonly the five desires or activities of the senses that deplete the spirit, the Three Flowers will naturally form, a Neidan term for Jing, Qi, and Shen refined and united as one. Jia and Yi, Wood among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water) and the Heavenly Stems, must not be in error, nor may Geng and Xin, which are Metal, be confused. When the Qi of the single Yang returns to its proper place, then, after the Seven Reversions, a Neidan term for repeated refining and transformation, one turns the River Cart, the practice of transporting internal Qi.

The third says that this matter is truly hard to fathom, and that one often cannot tell the wise from the dull. A sparrow is after all not of a kind with the phoenix, and a horse does not mix into a flock of sheep. The words “local products, three hundred in all” stand as in the original, and their meaning is unclear. Heaven and Earth together amount to one jin. Movement proceeds along twelve routes, under the command of the Barefoot Fierce General, the title of a divine general in Daoism.

The fourth runs: one, two, three, four, five, and the Southern Asterism stands opposite the Northern Asterism. Tiger and Dragon harbor green jade within them; Metal and Wood nurture treasures like pearls. When the clouds and mist disperse, every household can see the bright moon; when the flowers bloom, spring is everywhere. Those immortal guests who seem to come from beyond the clouds are in fact all people of this world.

The fifth: having received the true secret teaching of the immortals, one must refine utmost Yang from within Yin. Where Earth and Thunder, symbolizing Yang Qi stirring beneath the ground, secretly begin to move, the stars seem to take counsel together. Only when the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) are taken as the foundation do the Three Powers—Heaven, Earth, and the human being—begin to flourish. One need not worry over the tangle of life and death, but only feels that Heaven and Earth are vast and the years long.

The sixth: the circulation and transformation of Yin-Yang are originally one and the same method, profound and far-reaching in their mystery. With care one seeks Geng and Jia, symbols of cultivation matched with the Heavenly Stems and the Five Phases, and one devotes oneself to Bing and Wang—so the original reads; this may be a technical term of practice, or the text may be faulty. One seizes the bird and the rabbit, which in Neidan terminology often symbolize different Qi of Yin and Yang, and one takes Water and Metal. When what East and West represent has been clearly distinguished, cultivation can reach a state of single-minded unity without a second.

The seventh: the figure is graceful and the bearing soft and lovely, touched with shy charm, and seeming warm, yielding, and gentle. The wondrous principle is to be drawn from zither strings that have neither form nor feeling. One seeks Geng and Jia with care and devotes oneself to Bing and Wang; seizes the bird and the rabbit and takes Water and Metal; distinguishes what East and West symbolize; and cultivates a mind of single-minded unity without a second.

In the original, the opening of the second is mixed with lines from the first, and the seventh repeats many lines of the sixth. All of the above is rendered according to the text as given.

The seventh: The two gentle forms of Yin-Yang blend with each other, showing a delicate, bashful, and supple bearing. From what has neither form nor sound one must obtain the true mechanism, and gather the hun and po souls into the body. The linking of crown and pole is a figure for the union of lead and mercury; a numinous radiance shoots straight toward the lunar mansions of the Dipper and the Ox. What matters most is to harmonize Yin-Yang and remove impurity, and not to let cultivation be delayed as the years pass.

The eighth: In movement and rest one is free and unbound; the mind is at ease, and the realm of the Dao (the Way) rises with it. The mysterious contains the two aspects of Yin-Yang, and in quiet leisure one grows weary of the toil and disturbance of the dusty world. Whether sitting or lying down, one seems to rest securely among three mountain peaks, while the two currents of Qi in the Dantian (energy center)—the place where Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) are refined within—remain firm and do not scatter. In this way one can cast off worldly bonds and have one’s name entered in the register of immortals.

The ninth: When gathering and refining, one must be cautious and secretive, and with a sincere mind distinguish the better medicinal substances from the poorer. The essentials of cultivation are hard to find; a single mistake, and one easily loses the “cold spring” (a Neidan [internal alchemy] term for the crucial Jing and Qi, or medicinal substance, in the work of refining and nourishing). The master teaches that the Azure Dragon stands for mercury and the White Tiger for lead, and that the two are to be matched and returned to one place. After lead and mercury have joined, they must still be refined and nourished by water and fire for many years.

The tenth: The essential point of guarding the One (holding single-mindedly to one’s original authenticity) lies in mastering the moment of cultivation within the altar; its crux is hidden within the twelve double-hours. In carrying out the work there must not be the slightest deviation, nor may the firing times be delayed. Only those of thorough understanding are fit companions, and the true way of the immortals accords with this as well. For many years one has wandered among clouds and waters—who can know the state of mind within that?

The eleventh: In the human body there is something of the utmost numinous subtlety, faintly corresponding to the Northern Chronogram (the North Star, which the ancients regarded as dwelling at the center of heaven and governing the stars). Those who do not recognize it take it for Qi; once it is truly recognized, its real meaning is understood of itself. The mind is clear and still as ice and snow, and the body is light as blue-green clouds. If enduring life cannot be sought, to what end is cultivation pursued?

The twelfth: Even where the crowds of the marketplace come and go, one may associate openly and clearly with the people of the world. When awakening comes, one knows that all affairs return to the One; when it has not come, it is as if a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers stood between. Spirit-water (a Neidan term for the seminal fluid, or the Jing and Qi, obtained through refining and nourishing) returns to the Dantian, and water and fire within the Flowery Pool (a figurative name for the fluids of the mouth) refine each other. Primordial Qi can set the creative transformations in motion, causing one to turn back from old age to youth and recover a youthful countenance.

The thirteenth: Whether skillful or clumsy, one must draw inward and not display it; employing Shen (spirit) and mental intent, one keeps the pivotal moment of cultivation concealed within. Kan and Li (the trigram images of water and fire) act upon each other, and metal and wood (which in Neidan stand for different medicinal substances or movements of Qi) gladly join. White Snow and Yellow Sprout (symbolic medicinal substances in Neidan cultivation) enter the same cauldron and become one. Following the numbers of the Qian and Kun hexagrams, one works out the transformations of nine and six, so that the initial lines of the Fu and Gou hexagrams turn in continuous cycle.

The fourteenth: A single original thing divides into two; if one can know the names of these two, one can understand the principle within them. The movements of sun and moon are stored in the cauldron and furnace, and the water-clock that marks time shows the third watch. Yin-Yang, like husband and wife in union, delight in each other and blend together.

Fourteen. A single thing can be divided into two parts, and one can understand what each of those two parts is called. Within the cauldron and furnace (a metaphor in the cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy), referring to the place where body and mind are refined and nourished) the sun and moon lie hidden, and the dripping of the water clock accompanies the third watch of the night. Only when Yin-Yang unite as husband and wife come together does the infant begin to form. After one has passed through the delivery of the embryo and through washing and refining, and then carefully carries and nurtures it, life may be preserved for a long time.

Fifteen. After the numinous elixir is taken, the Qi (vital energy) of pure Yang naturally remains in the body. The state of mind becomes thoroughly open and lucid, ever dwelling in stillness while illumination and discernment stay perfectly clear; like the immortal isle of Penglai, one long preserves one’s youth. Coming and going are free of every tie, and moving freely in all directions one is untouched by worldly dust. One need only know the cyclical course of the years and months, and need not cling to waiting upon the days Geng and Xin (particular days in the stem-and-branch system of dating).

Sixteen. Seeking the great Dao (the Way), one continues to search out the true principle, walking at ease along the shores of the four seas. Outwardly one is largely able to forbear and yield; inwardly one examines oneself, whatever hardship may befall. Weary of the affairs of the human world, one gladly meets a guest of the Purple Prefecture (an immortal realm in Daoist legend). With a single sentence the other personally instructs and transforms one, and within the jade cavern it is suddenly as though the emerald peaches of a spring day have burst into full bloom.

Thirty Quatrains in Seven-Character Lines

The first. The myriad things all arise from the One Qi (the primordial Qi that generates the myriad things). Heaven is clear and earth is turbid; receiving the Qi of Yin-Yang, they transform and give birth to the myriad things. After the True Dragon and the True Tiger (terms in the art of Neidan symbolizing Yin-Yang, or the Jing (essence) and Qi within the body) have joined, red lead (a Neidan term for the Jing and Qi used in refining the elixir) is refined and nourished in the cauldron and furnace and made to pass through such stages as Jia and Geng.

The second. Yin-Yang are matched just as ruler and minister accord; movement and stillness harmonize one another, and Qi, blood, and Jing likewise pair together. Where Ren and Gui lie, the man moves in circulation as if striking the waves; where Bing and Ding lie, the woman moans again and again.

The original text then separately lists “The second: the matching of Yin-Yang, modeled on ruler and minister—the opening,” and afterward repeats a complete second poem. What follows is read according to the complete lines.

The third. Once dragon and tiger have joined, they grow fondly attached to one another; when Kan and Li (terms in the Book of Changes and in the art of Neidan representing water and fire, and Yin-Yang) copulate, embryonic breathing takes form. That one harmonious and abundant mass is the quintessence of heaven and earth; one must seek it with undivided attention and draw it in.

The fourth. Things of the same kind gather together, and the myriad things are separated according to their kind; the two sides, as if upon the same pan of a balance, together make one jin. Within the palace of Wu and Ji (names of the heavenly stems, here indicating the position of the central palace in the art of Neidan) water and fire lie stored, and one must carefully regulate the civil fire and the martial fire (metaphors in Neidan cultivation for firing of differing slowness and urgency).

The fifth. Within the palace of Li there is form, and true water is hidden there; within the gate of Kan, though there is no form, a scarlet dragon lies concealed. When the moment is exactly right one should gather and refine in good time, and not let the Qi of the sprout overflow the Yellow Palace (a Neidan term, commonly referring to the central palace).

The sixth. The thirty spokes of a wheel share a single hub; as soon as Metal and Wood meet, the two Qi join. The sixty hexagrams are distributed across day and night, and the Qi of the single Yang stirs to life, appearing in the first line.

The seventh. Within Yin there are thirteen, and visible signs appear; within Yang there are six and seven, yet they are hard to find. In the use of choutian (a Neidan term for regulating, and for increasing or decreasing, the Yin and Yang Qi in cultivation) one must be cautious, and one must clearly recognize the root and the ancestral basis of the practice.

The eighth. Seek the image amid what is hazy and hard to grasp, and search out the true Jing (essence—the subtle essence spoken of in alchemy) in the deep, lightless dark. The true Jing is the medicine of longevity; it can be refined only when it is nurtured with the aid of the Yellow Dame (Huangpo, an alchemical term for the intermediary that harmonizes Yin-Yang and brings the medicine into being).

The ninth. One must carefully work through the six hundred elixir scriptures (Jing), seeking the subtle principle that lies between concealment and manifestation, and between leaping forth and settling into stillness; one must also discern closeness and distance, and look for the true Jing within the deep, lightless dark. The true Jing is the medicine of longevity, and it can be refined only when nurtured with the aid of the Yellow Dame.

The ninth. One must carefully work through the six hundred elixir scriptures, seeking the subtle principle that lies between concealment and manifestation, and between leaping forth and settling into stillness; let what is near and what is far match one another and become clear to one another, and thereby draw upon the hidden workings represented by the Seven Stars and the Southern Dipper (Nandou, names of asterisms, here symbols in alchemical language).

The tenth. The Yin cauldron and the Yang furnace (Yinding and Yanglu, vessels or conditions in alchemy that symbolize the union of Yin-Yang) are the foundation of the great Dao (the Way). When the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) are brought into harmony, Earth presides. If one wishes to obtain the medicine of longevity, one should seek the hun and po souls only in the Flower Pool (Huachi, an alchemical term for the related site or realm of cultivation within the body).

The eleventh. The sages transmit the method of refining the medicine, yet they do not readily transmit the fire times (Huohou, the control of the fire’s strength and of its timing in alchemy), for since ancient times very few have truly understood them. Do not treat the great Dao as a child’s game; one should investigate it carefully together with those who follow the way of the immortals.

The twelfth. Master the increase and decrease of the fire times, and clear the mind of worldly, distracting thoughts. When one line has passed (a Yao, a single stroke of a hexagram, here a stage in the alchemical process), the next line arises after it. Civil Yin and martial Yang (Yinwen and Yangwu, alchemical terms for the shift between a mild fire and a fierce one) are raised or lowered as needed, until at last a single Reverted Elixir (Huandan, the elixir sought in alchemy) is refined in the fire.

The thirteenth. Swallow the saliva and draw in the breath, so that the bodily form is made firm and whole; one must also rely on the true mercury and the true lead (zhengong and zhenqian, alchemical terms symbolizing the mutually matched Yin and Yang essences of Qi, vital energy) represented by Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth, Yin and Yang). The great Dao is not difficult in itself; it is only that people themselves do not understand. To take the five metals and eight minerals as the foundation of elixir refining is a claim that does not hold true.

The fourteenth. The two Qi of Yin and Yang originally arise from the offspring and in turn bring their own root to completion; at the proper moment they should be gathered and received into the elixir cauldron. Husband and wife unite in the Golden Chamber (a symbol of the alchemical vessel, or of the elixir chamber within the body); after a year of gestation, a “child” is brought forth (meaning the elixir once it has been refined).

The fifteenth. Understand the mystery of Yin-Yang transformation, and once the Golden Liquid has been refined (Jinye, a term of the elixir way for the essence brought to perfection), one may leave the ordinary world. Washing and clarifying it is no common or easy matter; the Lovely Maiden and the Infant (Chanü and Ying’er, alchemical terms symbolizing respectively the two essential Qi of Yin and Yang) must both be present.

The sixteenth. Set the Northern Dipper turning and the Heavenly Mainstay (Tiangang) in motion; take the Southern Asterism in hand (Nanchen, the name of a star, used here to symbolize the hidden workings of alchemical circulation) and enter the bridal chamber (a symbol of the sealed chamber of alchemy, or of the elixir chamber within the body). In the alternating hexagrams Pi and Tai (names of hexagrams in the Classic of Changes, here symbolizing changes in the Qi-movement of Heaven and Earth), bring Heaven and Earth into union. When the Hare and the Rooster (symbols in alchemical terminology) are bathed, store them away with care and do not display them.

The seventeenth. In the Crystal Palace there is a beautiful emerald maiden, and this scene breaks the silence. Seize the essence and the marrow of the Hare and the Crow (symbolizing respectively the essential Qi of the moon and of the sun); they must be gathered and stored at once, and placed in the cauldron to be refined by fire.

The eighteenth. Set aside attachment to self and to others, and keep watch over the elixir chamber (Danfang, the place of elixir refining, which may also mean the elixir chamber within the body); one then feels time stretch long and the breath flow on without end. Honor and disgrace do not turn with the people of the dusty world; one only refines lead frost (Qianshuang, an alchemical term for the essence being refined) within the golden cauldron.

Tiger marrow, dragon Jing (essence), and the configurations of Qi (vital energy) are all complete. One cultivates according to the proper method, warming and refining by means of the firing times. When Yin Qi has been entirely exhausted and the elixir chamber brought to completion, one comes to understand that an immortal may live in seclusion amid the ordinary human world.

These subtle heavenly secrets speak of nothing more than Qi and Jing. Master Lü once said that apart from this there is no other true formula. The immortals are unwilling to state it with perfect clarity; if it were explained too plainly, it would only make people laugh.

“Nine reversions and seven returns” is a term of elixir refining, referring to the process by which the elixir cycles back and is refined again; the Three Powers denote Heaven, Earth, and humanity. The opening and closing of Yin-Yang, and the increase and decrease of the firing times, must all be harmonized through a mediating medium. The Four Images (the differing forms of Yin-Yang transformation) gather at wu and ji; through concentrated cultivation, like ten months of gestation, one finally brings forth the “infant,” the sign that the elixir is complete.

Of late the work of cultivation has grown ever finer, as if one were personally tilling a single mu of sandy field. Clear skies and rain alike assist the growth of spring, and there is no need to fear that the seedlings will fail to mature.

Returning to the root and restoring the original truth of life, one sends Qi circulating through the four limbs and nourishes Shen (spirit) with Jing. If both Shen and Qi can gather and not disperse, one may blend with the mundane world and live as a person at ease and leisure.

There is a certain thing that, between floating and sinking, seems at once present and absent; it can receive the autumn dew and condense it into a true pearl. Such scenes are found everywhere in the lanes of flowers and willows; both the turbid and the pure fragrance may be used as one requires.

Now that I have obtained the method of long life, year after year I seek a kindred spirit upon the sea. Yet I do not know who the true kindred spirit is, and can only, in all sincerity, keep these seemingly presumptuous words in my heart and carefully seek out the meaning within them.

For many years I have toiled, seeking companions in the cultivation of immortality; if I cannot become an immortal, I will not give up. Where there is affinity, the great Dao (the Way) is naturally accomplished—how could ordinary people ever trace its tracks?

A person is born of father and mother, and within the body there is originally the “True Unitary Qi,” yet it is without form or shadow and extremely difficult to find. One must understand the mystery of the union of Yin and Yang, allowing the ethereal soul (hun) and the corporeal soul (po) to blend with each other, and thus congeal “purple gold,” the sign that Neidan (internal alchemy) has been completed.

The foundation of the highest cultivation is the most subtle and profound of all; the divine water of the Floriate Pool (the place where the fluids of the mouth gather) can harmonize floating and sinking. When one applies spiritual power to regulate the firing times and to increase or decrease the refining and nourishing, one must all the more cultivate mind and nature and hold fast to one’s inner intent, and must not indulge oneself or lose control.

Chapter 29 of the Huandan Fuming Pian (Essay on Returning the Elixir and Restoring Destiny) says that in cultivation one must understand the changes of direction represented by east, west, south, and north, and grasp the principles by which Yin-Yang interact and female and male are paired. The firing process must be handled with steadiness and care; what the regulation of breath and the bellows-like drumming and blowing rely upon is the wind of the Xun palace, the station among the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) that represents wind.

Chapter 30 says that the conjunction of the Qi (vital energy) of Heaven and Earth is embodied in the hexagrams Pi (Obstruction) and Tai (Peace) of the Zhouyi (Classic of Changes); the sequence of time and the climate represented by the hexagrams Zhun (Difficulty at the Beginning) and Meng (Youthful Folly) likewise communicate with each other. The poem further draws the comparisons of “one husband and one wife” and “three wives and three men” to show that the pairing of Yin-Yang and the transformative working of Heaven and Earth depend upon each other, and that a cycle from beginning to end is thereby formed.

Of two seven-character quatrains, the first says that one should sweep away the bustle of the marketplace and whatever blocks the view, and should not lightly hand the great Dao (the Way) over to human feelings and worldly affairs. Sadly, the immortals from ancient times on have often deliberately appeared dull and spoken little.

The second says that completing one “return” in a month—one turning of the cycle in cultivation—counts as one revolution; nine revolutions in a year and nine returns of refinement correspond to each other. Relying on two hexagrams in the Zhouyi, the practitioner calculates xingde, the waxing and waning and the advance and retreat of Yin-Yang, and after five or six stages finally comes to wu and ji, the symbols of central Earth among the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) and the heavenly stems.

There are nine lyrics to the tune “Xijiang Yue”; what follows is the portion recorded. The first says that “one” is the governing principle of the Golden Elixir, and that the Hetu, an ancient diagram of images and numbers, displays the marvel within it. The mysterious mechanism is hard to grasp through images, and from this the great Dao is conceived and born. The handle of the Dipper turns and the stars each return to their places; within Yin there is also the light of the sun. On Mount Kunlun, mother and child are dressed in red. All of these are principles of the movement of the Yin-Yang of Heaven and Earth.

The second says that the crescent-moon furnace and the golden tripod are symbols of Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation, while the Three Terraces and the sun and moon are used to figure the makeup of form and Shen (spirit). The principle of higher and lower, though simple, can reveal true intent within mercury; if one holds to the inner condition, there is no need deliberately to treat the heart and the kidneys as the key to cultivation. The White Tiger ever abides at the gate of Kan—Kan symbolizes water, the kidneys, and the like—while the Azure Dragon is linked with the south. The yin hun and the yang po are like dust-shadows on a window, and the general sense of cultivation never departs from the xuanpin, the mysterious portal that brings forth the myriad things.

The third says that the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) in heaven are a pure and tranquil immortal realm, while the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors embody the institutions of the ancient sage-kings. The teachings of Gautama, Master Lao, and Zhongni—respectively the founder of Buddhism, Laozi, and Confucius—together with the classics and the historical records, all conceal profound and subtle principles. A zhenren (True Person) occasionally appears in the world, yet may not understand the mysteries of inner refinement indicated by the infant and the mysterious pearl. Toad-light, that is, moonlight, illuminates the dim path all day long, and the yellow sprout, a Neidan term for the subtle Qi generated in cultivation, shows itself everywhere.

The fourth says that the Five Phases within the body restrain one another and gather into a single grain of “red lead,” a Neidan term for the refined essence obtained through cultivation. The mutual generation and mutual conquest of the Five Phases occur of themselves, and this medicine admits of no distinction between noble and base. In the garden of one’s own home the practitioner tends one mu of “heavenly field,” the place of inner cultivation within the body, joins the middle son and the young daughter—figures for the Qi of Yin-Yang—and in the end brings the yellow sprout to full growth.

The surviving text of the fifth says that one must chisel open the three and the five within the mysterious origin and uncover the secrets of creative transformation. The text of the Jing (scripture/classic) appears defective here; the later phrase “the medicine is by no means noble or base” has already appeared at the end of the fourth lyric.

Within yourself, find a place suited to cultivation and nurture a plot of “heavenly field” (a metaphor in Neidan, or internal alchemy). When the middle son and the young daughter (symbolizing the two forces of Yin-Yang) work together, the “yellow sprout” that has been sown (the first sign of Neidan arising) will grow until it fills the courtyard.

The Fifth

Break open the mysterious primordial three and five (referring to profound principles, or to the transformations of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases—Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, and Water), and draw aside the subtle mysteries of creation. The deep and delicate meaning lies at the center. Though it is close at hand, it is hard to point out in words, as if it had neither form nor image.

With only a moment’s work one may come to some understanding, and be brought to the state of lasting long life. The immortal isle of Penglai (the legendary realm of the immortals) is my native place. If you do not take it to heart, trust it, and practice it, you will find the principle within hard to grasp.

The Sixth

When bamboo is damaged, one still mends it with bamboo; when a person grows old, one likewise relies on “lead” (an alchemical term for the medicine of the practice, or for Jing, essence, and Qi, vital energy) to restore what is lacking. Carefully considered, the principle lies right before the eyes; it is only that people of the world do not see it themselves.

The joining of sun and moon symbolizes Li and Kan (two of the Bagua, or Eight Trigrams, commonly used to stand for Yin-Yang). The tortoise and the snake, transformed and brought forth within the Prior Heaven, symbolize the union of Yin and Yang. The wondrous medicine of long life lies within oneself; if one cultivates it with care, it will soon appear.

The Seventh

This Dao (the Way) is supremely numinous and supremely sacred; do not disclose it lightly. Cultivation depends entirely on De (Virtue/Power) being matched with one’s practice and attainment. In speech, too, one must be cautious, and guard against showing off cleverness in argument.

One must also draw on the generative and flourishing changes of the Qi of the Five Phases, and understand the pattern by which Yang Qi grows strong and Yin Qi declines. The practitioner should associate prudently with those of like mind, guard against danger, and carefully master the work of “advancing the fire” (in Neidan, the use of firing times to impel the transformation of the medicine).

The Eighth

Once the jade elixir, bright and crystalline in its purity, has been refined, one returns again to the Yellow Springs (here used for life’s final destination, or for death). For it to rise and be transformed, one must still pass through three years of nurturing refinement, warming and nourishing it with care and treasuring and protecting it.

Only after the count of nine times nine has been gone through is the transformation complete. How could so divine an attainment be made clear in a few words? In a moment it is as if one becomes an immortal, forever riding the luan carriage and the phoenix palanquin (the legendary conveyances of the immortals).

The Ninth

Just as the one Qi turns back, it meets the day of the new moon (the first day of each month in the lunar calendar). The divine water in the cauldron is warm and circulates. Firmness and softness join, and the breath is evenly tuned; the subtlety lies in maintaining a state of undifferentiated chaos, leaning neither one way nor the other.

The Qi-dynamic of the Bagua revolves in a cycle and sets the nine apertures (the nine orifices of the human body) in motion. The positions of east and west, together with the changes of movement and stillness, are matched to the order of day and night. Do not speak of these principles casually to ordinary people.

The Dan Sui Ge (Songs of the Elixir’s Marrow): Thirty-Four Pieces

The first: In refining the elixir one need not deliberately seek out the season of the winter solstice; within the body a single Yang (the Yang Qi at its first arising) naturally comes forth. The dragon soars in the crimson water and stirs up waves; the tiger gives a long roar among the cinnabar mountains, where the wind and dew in the hills are cool and fresh. All of these are images of Neidan cultivation, describing the stirring of the Qi-dynamic of Yin-Yang.

The second: At first it is as if clouds pour out from a cavern; next it is as if the moon is reflected in a deep pool; it is like a golden silkworm, and like a jade shoot…

The first: In refining the elixir one need not go out of one’s way to seek the winter solstice, for within the human body a single Yang Qi (vital energy)—the state in which Yang Qi first arises—naturally comes into being. The dragon takes flight over the crimson waters (the water of alchemical imagery), and waves surge up; the tiger roars long among the cinnabar mountains (the mountains of alchemical imagery), and the wind is clear, the dew pure.

The second: At the outset the vision is as if clouds were rising out of a cavern; afterward it is like the bright moon reflected in a deep pool. It is also like a golden silkworm or a jade shoot. One must grasp the timing of the fire (the regulation of rhythm and degree in the course of cultivation and refinement) and temper the work carefully, again and again.

The third: She is as delicate and lovely as Xi Shi leaving the golden pavilion, and as beautiful as Yang Guifei stepping down from the jade tower. Day after day she keeps company with you beneath the flowers in shared joy and intoxication, so that everywhere one is made to feel beauty and refined elegance.

The fourth: The mud snake at the bottom of the well seems to leap into the zhezhi dance (an ancient dance); the bright moon between the windows shines on plum and pear. At night, undifferentiated chaos (the state of not yet being distinct, of forming one undivided whole) seems to turn upside down and fall to the ground; faced with the spectacle of the myriad things spread out in profusion, one can make out nothing.

The fifth: Formerly one had the good fortune to meet a master and receive the true oral formula: one need only concentrate the Shen (spirit) and enter the Qi cavity (the place in the body, in internal cultivation, where visualization is settled and the breath regulated). Jing (essence) is transformed into Qi, and Qi in turn into Shen, and these are refined into the Yellow Sprout and the White Snow (terms in Neidan (internal alchemy) symbolizing the condensation and refinement of Jing, Qi, and Shen).

The sixth: In the course of a year one must bathe and nourish oneself, and also guard against danger; over ten months one harmonizes body and mind, and must be still more careful to keep due measure. After taking the cinnabar (here referring to the Neidan image gained through cultivation and refinement), one pays homage at the Jade Capital (a Daoist realm of the immortals) and, riding a crane, ascends to the celestial palace.

The seventh: The crow has no form, and the jade rabbit has no shadow; what is called crow and rabbit refers to the essential radiance of the sun and the moon. When the essential radiances of sun and moon join, heaven and earth seem to endure forever.

The eighth: The ox has no horns, and the horse has no hooves; what is called ox and horse refers to the essential marrow of Qian and Kun (heaven and earth). The turning of Qian and Kun is shown in the harmonizing of Kan and Li (Yin-Yang symbols such as water and fire).

The ninth: The tortoise has no image, and the snake leaves no trace; what is called tortoise and snake is only the configuration of Yin and Yang. When the two Qi of Yin and Yang meet, they mingle and become one.

The tenth: Lead is not the lead of the ordinary world, nor is mercury the mercury of the ordinary world; lead and mercury (terms in the Neidan art symbolizing the factors of cultivation) are properly to be sought within oneself. In cultivation one must let body and mind be quiet and undisturbed.

The twelfth: There is no White Snow of the ordinary world, nor any Yellow Sprout of the ordinary world. White Snow is the water of the spirit chamber (symbolizing the inwardly refined substance formed by the condensation of Shen and Qi), while the Yellow Sprout is the flower that arises in the pivot of the Qi mechanism (symbolizing the sprouting and condensation of Qi).

The thirteenth: The true husband is the true husband, and the true wife is the true wife; when the Kan male and the Li female (forces of internal cultivation symbolizing Yin-Yang and water and fire) interact, empty space is clear and free of dust, and heaven and earth are revealed.

The fourteenth: The true communion pear and the true fire jujube (immortal fruits in Daoist internal cultivation symbolizing the fruits of refinement). Eat the communion pear, and the four limbs become light and strong; swallow the fire jujube, and it is as if one could be sated through myriad kalpas.

The fifteenth: The original text reads, “When water and the Li female interact, the void is without dust and heaven and earth are revealed.” The sense of the line seems to join the thirteenth: when water and the Li female interact, the void is without dust and heaven and earth appear.

The original contains repeated entries, missing characters, and skipped numbers; the above is read according to the wording that survives.

Fourteen. The true “communion pears” and “fire jujubes” are metaphors in the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), not ordinary fruits. Once the communion pears are taken, the four limbs grow easeful; once the fire jujubes are swallowed, it is as if one had gained a vitality that will not fail even through ten thousand kalpas.

Fifteen. By the true mutual aiding of water and fire, one circulates the celestial circuit according to the proper time—guiding the breath to cycle within the body—and harmonizes and refines this into a treasure capable of long life.

Seventeen. The hun-soul of the sun and the po-soul of the moon can in fact both be found within oneself; the body itself already holds Yin-Yang, heaven, and earth. One tempers the Dantian (energy center), the core region of the body in Neidan, until it is clear through and bright, glowing red.

Eighteen. Heaven is high and honored; earth is low and humble. One must gather in the celestial hun-soul and subdue the six thieves—the six sensory desires that disturb the mind and Shen (spirit)—and one must also subdue the earthly po-soul and control the three corpses, the spirits that, in Daoist teaching, cause illness within the body and obstruct cultivation.

Nineteen. The medicine is not a substance outside oneself, and the fire is not an hour of smelting. In the end, the key is only a single point of Yang Qi (vital energy); refine it to completion, and one may obtain a lifespan that is lasting and without end.

Twenty. The metal here is not the metal of the Dui trigram, nor is the wood the wood of the Zhen trigram, among the Bagua (Eight Trigrams). It is the true Qi of Earth that corresponds to the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water); metal and wood can then naturally join and harmonize.

Twenty-one. Within black there is white, and within white there is black. If one only holds to the black, the white appears of itself; black and white were never two different things.

Twenty-two. The gold and silver spoken of here are not ordinary metals. Refine them into the Purple-Gold Elixir, a metaphor of Neidan, and the result is naturally whole, as if formed by Heaven, with no trace of human carving.

Twenty-three. The crescent-moon furnace and the cinnabar cauldron—vessels used in Neidan to figure the body and the places of cultivation—call for knowing how to embrace and guard the Primordial One and to keep to centered harmony. One need not cling to concrete steps such as opening the passes and directing them toward the Jade Well.

Twenty-four. The central cauldron and the altar of guarding the One symbolize the sites and methods of Neidan. The “broth” in the golden tripod must be kept always warm, and the jade furnace must not be allowed to let the firing phase grow cold.

Twenty-five. The mysterious is the true mysterious, and the female is the true female. The mysterious and the female ultimately issue from one and the same aperture, the source that generates the myriad things; this aperture lies neither in the mouth and nose nor in the heart and kidneys.

Twenty-six. The true Spirit Water and the true Flowery Pool are names in Neidan for the fluids within the body and the place where they gather. Primordial Qi is empty and hard to grasp, profound, far-reaching, and still, and is originally Wuwei (non-action).

Twenty-seven. Refining cinnabar and refining mercury means letting the cinnabar receive the mercury, and then refining that mercury into “dust on a bright window,” a metaphor for transformation in Neidan.

Twenty-eight. The true Yellow Carriage and the true Purple Powder, metaphors of Neidan, both lie within the inner tripod and the inner furnace. Through transformation, it is as if tile and stone could become the elixir of nine reversions.

Twenty-nine. The true barrier-lock and the true paired cart are metaphors in Neidan for the methods of firm holding and of circulation. Hold fast the iron lock and the golden pass, then set the river cart—a metaphor for moving the breath within the body—in motion, so that they congeal into cinnabar.

Thirty: True golden Jing (essence) and true jade fluid—the Jing and Qi (vital energy), together with the bodily fluids, of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy). When they fill the cauldron, Qi returns to the root; when the jade fluid fills the flask, Shen (spirit) enters the chamber. Here “cauldron,” “flask,” “root,” and “chamber” are all metaphors of Neidan, used to describe how Jing, Qi, and Shen gather and are stored away in the course of cultivation.

Thirty-one: The true Golden Elder and the true Lovely Maiden—names in Neidan for the two powers of Yin and Yang (Yin-Yang)—join as husband and wife and enact the union of clouds and rain in a deep, secluded bridal chamber. The verse borrows the image of marriage between man and woman to depict the joining of Yin and Yang and the conception of the elixir embryo.

Thirty-two: The true Dinggong and the true Huangpo—symbolic figures in Neidan, charged respectively with tending the fire and with harmonizing. Dinggong applies the firing schedule to refine the golden flower, while Huangpo nurtures the golden goose in the bottle. Both “golden flower” and “golden goose” are symbolic objects in the methods of the elixir.

Thirty-three: The true infant and the true ruddy child—symbolizing the pure Qi attained through cultivation, or the elixir embryo. After nine cycles of refining and nurturing, they become a ten-month fetus. The passage then continues with the metaphors of the Golden Elder and the Lovely Maiden marrying and of clouds and rain in the bridal chamber, describing the process by which Yin and Yang unite and the elixir embryo is gestated.

Thirty-two: The true Dinggong and the true Huangpo. Dinggong applies the firing schedule to refine the golden flower, and Huangpo nurtures the golden goose in the bottle.

Thirty-three: The true infant and the true ruddy child, refined through nine cycles into a ten-month fetus, reach a state of pure Yang without Yin, in which life does not decline.

Thirty-four: True Yin-Yang, true Yin-Yang. Although Yin and Yang are only two characters, they can be used to figure the tens of thousands of chapters in the elixir texts.