《还源篇阐微》Vol. 2

Without form or trace, one lets oneself drift among the Six Qi (yin, yang, wind, rain, dusk, and light, the natural changes of the cosmos), while embracing all things with a single sincere heart. This is the secret of "tending the fire timing (huohou) through the whole day," mentioned in the previous chapter, and of "playing with the True Void (zhenkong) through the whole day," mentioned in this one. If this is so, why should one still labor at refining qi and nourishing shen?

This chapter follows on from the last and explains that the life treasure (mingbao), the root essence of life, must not be lightly put to use. The key lies in hiding qi within qi without deliberately measuring it, and hiding shen within shen without conscious observation, so that one clings neither to "emptiness" (kong) nor to "nothingness" (wu). This is like a fish at ease in water: when things arrive, one responds naturally, and when they depart, one returns to open, impartial stillness, whole and alone. This is the proper method of bathing (muyu) in Neidan practice, the quiet nurturing of breath that brings the fire timing into harmony. Once one can do this, what danger is there left to fear?

To refine the Xiantian Qi (the primordial qi of the pre-cosmic origin), one must first refine the ganhong (a stabilized mercury image, an alchemical term for mercury that has been processed into a steady state). When the shengtai (the sacred embryo, a metaphor for the Neidan that has formed) is complete, a thunder-like stirring will appear from the crown of the head.

"Living mercury" (huo shuiyin) refers to unrefined quicksilver, a metaphor for the single point of yin essence (yin jing) in the heart. At first it has not yet been tempered by the yang qi within the body, so it flows freely and is hard to tame, like quicksilver. "Breaking through the crown" (poding) refers to the piercing and breaking open described in chapter twenty-two. The yin essence in the heart is prized because, once it meets the yang qi within the body, it can be held in check and refined.

Yet yin essence remains yin, and like living mercury it easily scatters, so one cannot expect it to gather qi and transform into spirit (shen) on its own. Therefore, to cultivate the primordial qi (xiantian zhi qi), one must in daily life maintain vigilance, caution, and firm resolve, and through shendu (watchfulness over one's thoughts even when alone) gather and conceal it within. Qingjing (stillness and tranquility) is the foundation, and guarding qian and gong (lead and mercury, the yin-yang symbols of internal alchemy) is the method.

When the moment of guisheng (the time when yin essence begins to stir) arrives, one must use vigorous and steady force to restrain the yin essence, which is as wild as a dragon, and to meet and hold the yang qi, which is as fierce as a tiger. The two join closely, rise together, and then turn back and coalesce. At this point, the yin essence that once scattered easily, likened to living mercury, has been refined by yang qi and condensed into spirit. Together with the yang qi it returns to an invisible cavity, which is the xuanpin (the mysterious female gate, the gateway of generation and transformation). Master Baizi's line, "Two mud oxen charge into the sea; to this day their traces are utterly lost," describes exactly this state of returning to invisibility, where nothing can be detected.

This describes the situation when the dantou (the "head" of the elixir) first forms. Afterwards, the yuanming and yuanxing (the primordial life-root and original nature) gradually sprout, and they too rest on this deep, quiet, and secret practice. The true qi that constantly arrives within the body in daily life also comes together and gathers within this formless realm, through a wondrous and inconceivable operation.

Practiced this way day and night, without calculating the progress of days and months, the shengtai (the sacred embryo, the primordial life-body condensed in internal alchemy) will naturally form. One day the crown aperture is broken through, and the gate of xuanpin appears. At that moment one feels as though seated in the heavens, with thunder and lightning flashing across the sky, shaking the earth and startling heaven. Immediately the hundred channels of the body stop their flow, and the sanguan (the three passes, the gates or barriers of the body in cultivation) open and become clear. From then on the body is warm like fire, pervaded by pure yang, old illnesses vanish, and one no longer dreams.

Earlier masters explained fuming (returning to the mandate) as the Perfected of the Primordial Numinous Treasure and Original Life-Mandate returning, and fuxing (returning to nature) as the Perfected of the Primordial Supreme Taiji, Dao and De, returning. At the stage of refining emptiness and merging with the Dao (lianxu hedao), they explained it as the Primordial Ungrounded Beginning, the One Qi, returning. This account takes the Heavenly Venerables (tianzun) that evolved from the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) as symbols of the true substance of the One Qi flowing through all things, and it has real subtlety. However, I hold that in alchemical practice, it is better to treat the restoration of qi and shen as the first stage of progress, and then to treat returning to the mandate, returning to nature, and merging with the Source as the completion of the work. This better explains the original intent of returning to the origin and tracing back to the Source, and it is more concrete and does not drift into vagueness. Therefore, it is not necessary to cite a divine title at every step. This is not a rejection of the earlier masters' views.

This chapter follows the previous one and clarifies the true state of natural separation of the embryo. When one is "neither in Heaven above, nor in the field below, nor in man in the middle," alchemists call it the Returning Elixir (huandan), yet the Golden Fluid (jinye) has not truly returned. At this point, the internal cultivation can no longer be advanced by applying force, so the text goes on to describe the method of "blending and transforming" (hunhua), which teaches the practitioner to ripen the elixir through gentle nourishment (wenyang).

"The generation of qi is not confined to the kidneys, and the dwelling of shen is not in the heart" means that qi does not arise only from the kidneys, and shen does not reside only in the heart. Qi and shen are both difficult to grasp, and in the end they transform into a single lump of gold. Here "gold" refers to the Golden Elixir (jindan) condensed through Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

"One Lump of Gold" (Yi Tuan Jin) means that the practitioner no longer distinguishes the Five Qi, the Three Flowers (san hua), the inner and outer, motion and stillness, or the appearances of form and color, but nurtures the formless with a pure and tranquil mind alone. The Scripture of Taiyi for Rescuing from Suffering (Taiyi Jiuku Jing) says: "When the Qi returns to a single body, it becomes the natural spirits. Though these natural spirits differ from one another, their source lies in the empty void. The void leaves no trace to seek, yet it pervades the whole body and fills the emptiness. The first step is that Qi returns to unity; the second, that from the flowing Qi arises birth; the third, that the myriad things take form from this; the fourth, that light appears from this." This is what the passage means.

This section continues from the previous chapter and explains that when Qi first begins to transform and generate, it lodges in the "Empty Valley" (xu gu) within the body and then returns to the "Responsive Valley" (ying gu). This has nothing to do with the kidneys. The Shen produced by the transformation of Yin Jing follows the circulation of Qi and returns from the Responsive Valley to the "Celestial Valley" (tian gu). This has nothing to do with the heart. These, however, are still states that can be observed within the physical body and have not yet revealed the Dharma body (fashen). Here the text goes further, discussing how the physical body (seshen) and the Dharma body, and the principles of form and the formless, blend and transform into one another, and presenting this as the method of nurturing practice.

We should understand that Shen originally has no fixed location, and Qi has no fixed shape. Shen hides in deep and subtle places, while Qi fills the void. The interaction of Qi and Shen takes place only in emptiness and leaves no trace. One can only sense that they meet as if in a daze, and that they transform in the dim and obscure depths. If one tries deliberately to find them, they become impossible to grasp. Only when the mind is still and empty, and the movement is upright, does something suddenly appear, like a flash of fire scattering through the void and becoming a lump of golden light that permeates the whole body. When it is used, the True Shen manifests; when one lets go, it returns to hidden stillness. This is a real scene of cultivation, not a metaphor.

The above is Chapter Thirty-Six. This chapter follows what precedes it and runs through the five chapters that come after, all of which clarify the proper methods of nurturing practice.

There is an orifice called the "Mysterious Female" (xuan pin), which in Daoist terms is the mysterious gate, and within it are stored Qi and Shen. Who can know the location of this orifice? To seek the true Dao, one need not look outside.

This chapter explains that when a person receives life, they first receive primordial Qi (yuanqi), and a cavity forms within the body. Earlier masters called this cavity the "Mysterious Female" (Xuanpin). Only by quieting oneself can one come to realize this cavity. Without understanding this, there is no need to seek it outside the body.

"Mysterious Female" refers to the state in which Jing and Qi unite and condense within a single cavity. Once Jing and Qi return to their root, they are refined into Shen (spirit), which is stored in this cavity. The key lies in the moment at the beginning of life when the first stirring of right thought arises and Jing and Qi briefly congeal. For this reason, Master Bai says that the Mysterious Female lies precisely where thought first stirs.

The teacher explains: "Qi arises from the deep and dark and transforms into Shen, which is why it is called 'Xuan' (mysterious). This Qi is the true yin of the Li trigram, that is, the yin essence within the heart. Once the Qi condenses, human nature becomes complete. Qi, gathered and governed by Shen, transforms into divine water (shenshui), which is why it is called 'Pin' (female). This divine water is the true yang of the Kan trigram, that is, the yang Qi within the body. When it unites with Qi, one's innate destiny (benming) becomes complete. When Jing and Qi mingle in a single cavity, this is called the Mysterious Female. If one understands why this cavity is called the Mysterious Female, one will see that the key lies only in this single thought. Beyond it there is no true place, so why seek outside?"

The song of Zixian Xuezi, a Daoist cultivator, says: "The true Mysterious Female, in the end, lies within this one cavity. It is not in the mouth or nose, nor in the heart or kidneys." Chunyangzi (Lü Dongbin) says: "When one thoroughly investigates the beginning of life, when one first receives Qi, one should not be surprised that the heavenly secret has already been fully revealed." These words all clarify the meaning of this chapter.

The above is Chapter Thirty-Seven, which explains why this cavity is called the "Mysterious Female."

"The spleen and stomach are not the chamber of Shen, and the bladder is merely an appendage of the kidneys. I urge you not to cling to these organs, for they are not the steps by which the elixir is formed." This passage means that the spleen and stomach are where the Qi of food and drink is stored and received. The "chamber of Shen" and the key principles of Daoist alchemy discussed in cultivation are not identical to these concrete organs.

The spleen and stomach are not the "spirit chamber" (shenshi) spoken of in cultivation, the inner place where Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) are refined and nourished. The bladder is merely the reservoir of water associated with the kidneys. Do not get caught up in these bodily parts. The spleen and stomach handle the digestion of food and must not be sealed or blocked. The bladder stores and expels fluids, and it should not be mistaken for yang essence that travels along the "River Chariot" (hecheng), the term in neidan practice for the pathway along which Jing and Qi circulate. The rungs of the cultivation ladder are not located in these places, so do not cling to them.

This is the thirty-eighth chapter. It follows on from the previous chapter's meaning, warning people not to seek outwardly. But fearing that people will then turn to searching for something within the body and cling to it, it restates the point: one need only cultivate the formless Dao (the Way), and this is the true path of cultivation.

Though the inner visions may be a thousand in variety, in the Huangting (the "Yellow Court," understood in Daoist practice as the site of cultivation within the body), one need only a single cup of wine. The mind and spirit roam freely, unburdened by external things, and the world beyond the body has its own heaven and earth.

What is called the "inner scenery" (neijing) is the imagery that appears within body and mind. "Zhonghuang" (the Central Yellow) refers to the harmonizing qi of the Yellow Court. "Outside the body there is heaven and earth" means that when the practitioner's seven orifices (the eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and so on) are bright and open, and after passing through a state of sudden clarity, the body feels as though a complete golden radiance shines through it, both inside and out. This is explained as the vast, formless, unbounded vital qi of Xiantian (Prior Heaven) Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth), condensed into being. It pervades the body, and the body is contained within it, hence it is called the "body beyond the body" (shenwai shen).

At this stage, the scenery within the body is hard to grasp, and the Yellow of heaven should no longer be driven by fire (in neidan terms, moving the Jing and Qi along their course). It is now fitting to admire scenery and chant poetry, in order to cultivate one's temperament in harmony with heaven and earth, and to drink wine in moderation to balance body and mind and let the yin and yang qi flow freely. Cultivating one's temperament can be fine and lingering, so one may compose a thousand poems. Nourishing qi should not be indulged, so only one cup of wine is taken, and never to excess. In this way, shen and qi still move freely within the practitioner's fati (dharma body). Even if the body seems able to roam ten thousand li afar, soaring freely with the breath, it does not leave the fajie (dharma realm), and the mind and spirit are not burdened by desire for things. This is the way of nourishing both inner and outer, what Master Zhang (Zhangzi) called "when the inside is connected, the outside is connected too."

Chapter Thirty-Nine follows the two preceding chapters. Having already identified and cleared away what needs clearing both within and without, one should now cultivate inner and outer together, refining the emotions and nurturing the innate nature (xing). Doing so nourishes one's abundant, upright disposition. The various rites and standards of demeanor are the methods by which the sages harmonized the centered and balanced qi (zhongzheng pinghe zhi qi) between heaven and earth, so that human temperament returns to rectitude. Fundamentally, they embody "sound-less music" and "form-less ritual." When a person acts with ease and in accordance with the Mean, they can communicate with heaven and earth above and below, and the spirit (shen) is no longer burdened by external things.

"Wu-Tu" (Crow and Hare) is a term from Neidan (internal alchemy). The Crow represents the soul of the sun and serves as a metaphor for nature (xing), while the Hare represents the soul of the moon and serves as a metaphor for emotion (qing). "Mutually boiling" (xiang jian zhu) describes governing the emotions through the nature, so that feeling submits to the original nature, like water and fire complementing one another.

The Turtle excels at concealment and stands for shen (spirit), while the Snake excels at coiling and stands for qi. "Coiling about itself" (zi rao chan) describes spirit governing qi, with qi in turn nourishing spirit, like Yin-Yang intertwining and circulating. Once nature and emotion, and spirit and qi, have been harmonized in this way, they condense into a single pellet of elixir. Nurturing it with gentle, sustained effort allows it to grow into the "embryonic immortal" (taixian), the achievement that internal alchemy describes through the image of an immortal embryo.

Above, the text teaches cultivating one's natural disposition, holding that one may drink wine and compose poetry. Fearing that practitioners would still cling to the distinction between body and mind, inner and outer, the author further teaches them to forget as much as possible the form of the body and all thoughts of distinction. In this way the natural disposition is tempered through cultivation, qi and shen interpenetrate and intertwine in the changes of movement and stillness, and they naturally blend and nurture one another until a single pellet of elixir is formed. It is so great that nothing lies outside it and so small that nothing lies within it. Its wisdom pervades all things, its spiritual transformations follow no fixed pattern, and it merges into the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji) and endures.

Chen Nini (Chen Niwan) said, "Take the crow and the hare as medicinal materials, and the Great Void as the furnace cauldron." This is precisely the method of restoring one's original nature and uniting with the primordial source. Xue Zixian (Zixian Xuezi) sang, "The crow has no form, the hare has no shadow; the crow and hare are only the essence of sun and moon. When the crow and hare meet, Heaven and Earth endure forever." He also sang, "The tortoise has no image, the serpent leaves no trace; the tortoise and serpent are only the images of Yin-Yang. When the two qi meet, they blend into one." These all use the crow and hare, and the tortoise and serpent, as metaphors for natural disposition and the spirit-qi.

The transformations and shifts of the Dao are unceasing, so one must allow all the factors of body and mind to blend into full completeness, nourish the single intention of the elixir within the heart, and move with circumstances so that movement and stillness are both appropriate and inner and outer are unified. One must not cling to one side and seek it alone.

The above is the fortieth chapter. This chapter follows what came before and explains that, at this stage, Yin-Yang and shen and qi keep changing and no longer divide into inner and outer. Whether they appear as ritual and music or lie hidden like ghosts and spirits, all return to the cultivation and nourishment of one's own natural disposition, so that the functions of creation gradually mature until they reach a state without sound or form, and the elixir is completed.

All things are born and in the end must die, yet the Yuanshen (primordial spirit), once dead, can be reborn. When the shen is gathered back into the qi cavity (the site in internal alchemy where primordial qi is stored and nourished), the Way of the elixir is naturally achieved. Here "shen" refers to the Yuanshen, and "qi" refers to the true qi of the Wuji primordial Yang. The meaning is that if a person can nourish themselves in this way, they may seem able to live without end, free and at ease.

In this passage, "spirit" (shen) refers to the primordial spirit (yuanshen), the spiritual faculty innately possessed before birth, and "qi" refers to the true qi (zhenqi) of Wuji primordial yang, the pure yang qi of the prior-to-heaven state. If one can nourish these so well, it might seem that one could attain longevity without death and move at ease, so why still pursue the completion of the elixir and becoming an immortal who founds a lineage?

Yet between heaven and earth, all living things are born and die. Even one's yangshen (the yang-natured spirit consciousness that appears in cultivation) and one's yuanming (the fundamental life innate from before birth) once perished. Though one now cultivates according to oral formulas (koujue) so that they are revived, there is still no guarantee that they will not perish again. Therefore, nourishing alone (wenyang) is not the final and complete method. One must cultivate further, and only when the nourishing reaches the level of four tenths (si cheng) can one achieve something.

Why is this so? Ever since I opened the guanqiao (the crucial passes where qi circulates during cultivation), my shen (spirit) and qi have been nourished in pure unity and left undamaged. They already fill heaven and earth and pass through the Sanqing (the Three Pure Ones, the three heavenly realms revered in Daoism). I need only complete the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) within the empty, natural state, then stir a single breath of primordial yang true qi from the Wuji (the Limitless, the state before form), and I will coalesce again as I was at the start. This is shen returning to the qi cavity (bringing the spirit back to the root of the body's qi circulation). No matter how heaven and earth overturn, it remains firmly condensed and cannot scatter.

In such a moment, the yang shen (the pure yang spirit spoken of in inner alchemy) receives the flow of yuanqi (primordial qi), takes on visible form, and can rise up and transform or dwell in stillness. As to its bodily nature, it can hear above the nine heavens and see ten thousand li away; it needs no food and feels no hunger; it can drink wine without becoming drunk; its mouth can dry up mercury, and its belly can steam cakes until they are cooked. As to its function, the body emits light and the gods come to pay homage; it can command thunder and lightning, clear the skies, or bring rain. Ghosts and demons who see it are struck with fear and lose their souls, and spirits and sprites that encounter it perish.

Even so, the practitioner can still face their own shadow and form without mental attachment, remain serenely unmoved, embrace the myriad phenomena, and nourish the yuanshen (primordial spirit). This naturally brings one into accord with the virtue of heaven and earth and the light of sun and moon, and this is called "uniting with the Origin" (hey yuan). Once the yuanshen is perfected, one awaits the moment of transcendence and release from the body, and then unites with the Dao and the Real (hezhen). This is exactly what the Daodejing says: "When the work is accomplished and affairs are complete, the common people all say, 'It happened naturally.'" How could they know that the practice a cultivator uses from beginning to end is nothing more than nourishing the formless qi and the knack of having shen return to the qi cavity? Were it not for someone truly wise and perspicacious, martial in spirit yet not recklessly violent, who else could grasp and accomplish this? This is the method of refining the form with golden liquor (Jinye Lianxing), and so the yang shen is able to take visible form.

Here ends Chapter Forty-One. It shares the same secret as the five chapters before it: were it not for someone truly wise and perspicacious, martial in spirit yet not recklessly violent, who else could grasp and accomplish this? This is the method of refining the form with golden liquor, and so the yang shen is able to take visible form.

When shen and qi return to their root, and body and mind recover the life they originally possessed, this is the mysterious true aperture (zhen qiao). Few, I fear, truly understand it.

Here, "shen and qi" has already been explained in the preceding text. "Root" refers to the fundamental ground of heaven and earth, that is, one's own original nature (yuan xing, the true nature inherently present). "Life" refers to one's primordial life (yuan ming). Only when cultivation reaches this stage can one be said to have returned to the root and restored one's destiny (gui gen fu ming). The author deliberately speaks of "shen and qi" and "body and mind" without borrowing any other image as a metaphor, to show that the return of shen and qi to the root is precisely the restoration of destiny in body and mind. These are all xing de (the virtues inherent in one's nature), and they embody the principle that inner and outer correspond. Returning to the root and restoring destiny accords with nature; it is not imposed from without. One need not search for some other orifice. When the seven orifices converge into one, and this one returns to true emptiness (zhen kong, the original state free of attachment), it is the true aperture. Bai Yuchan's statement that "taking the return to origin and the source as true emptiness" means that as long as a person empties the mind, the Dao naturally comes back. Laozi said, "Heaven and earth all return to it," and Confucius said, "All under heaven return to humaneness." Neither meant that there is some other visible aperture.

Within the body lies the xuanpin (the Mysterious Female, the gate of mysterious generation in Daoist thought), and the mind holds no defiling dust. It is a pity that so few seem to understand that within this single aperture lies the true nature.

This chapter is devoted to explaining the essential key to returning to the root and restoring destiny, so that readers may grasp it with sudden clarity. Bai Yuchan regarded the return to the root and the restoration of destiny as the completion of Neidan (internal alchemy), and his claim describes exactly this.

In the time before one has received the oral instructions (koujue), the "mysterious female" (xuanpin), the place within the body where shen and qi meet and gather in internal alchemy (neidan), has not yet formed. One must therefore work within the mind, washing away distracting thoughts and dust. Once this cleansing has deepened and one obtains the true oral formula, the correct instruction for practice brings lead (qian) and mercury (gong), internal-alchemy terms that figuratively refer to cultivation elements such as jing and qi, into motion together. There is no need to strain the mind with calculation, and they naturally retreat into a deep and hidden place. From then on, shen rests peacefully in the Celestial Valley (Tiangu), the seat of the spirit in the head, and qi returns to the Crimson Palace (Jianggong), the region of the heart. This is the mysterious female.

Now that the mysterious female is present within the body, shen is naturally settled and full, qi is naturally deep and tranquil, and the mind is free of dust, so there is no need for further washing. When one reaches this state of empty clarity without obstruction, the mind becomes broad and bright. Who, apart from those who have experienced it, could truly understand this? This happens because shen and qi have merged into one upright intention, blended and hidden within a single aperture, nourishing natural authenticity so that it is no longer disturbed by external things. The mind thus becomes a place of numinous clarity and purity, where dust has nowhere to cling.

The meaning of this teaching is that one need not flee the world or avoid desires, since one can transcend worldly dust even while living among people. In sum, this practice is simple yet profound, can be sustained over a long time, and can keep developing. Master Bai said: "If you practice diligently but have not met a true master, you will surely meet a perfected person (zhiren). Once you obtain the true oral instructions, likes and dislikes will be set aside. When things come before you, you can weigh and handle them appropriately. When the mind has a master within, the myriad things cannot naturally command you."

This is the forty-third chapter. The author specifically notes that once one obtains the oral instructions and achieves inner alchemy, false thoughts naturally vanish. The purpose of this is to keep people from becoming complacent out of fear of the difficulty of practice. The words are deeply sincere.

The true dragon and tiger within Li and Kan (trigram names that in internal alchemy often refer figuratively to body and mind and their yin and yang qi), and the proper horse and ox of Qian and Kun (trigram names symbolizing heaven and earth), are all innately possessed by everyone. Why, then, do people not know how to cultivate them?

Li symbolizes the acquired mind (houtian xin). Yin essence exists within the heart, but it lacks restraint, so it runs wild like a dragon. Kan symbolizes the acquired body (houtian shen). Yang qi exists within the body, but it has no place to return to, so it is fierce like a tiger.

Within Li (the Fire trigram, which symbolizes the post-heaven mind) lies yin essence (jing), but it lacks restraint, so it rages like a dragon. Within Kan (the Water trigram, which symbolizes the post-heaven body) lies yang qi (qi), but it has no home, so it is fierce like a tiger. The true dragon and tiger represented by Li and Kan must still be subdued.

Qian symbolizes the pre-heaven mind, which Confucius, in the Shuogua (Discussion of the Trigrams), compares to a fine horse. Kun symbolizes the pre-heaven body, which the same text compares to a cow with its calf. The upright horse and upright cow represented by Qian and Kun are both gentle and tractable. Those who practice neidan (internal alchemy) are fundamentally refining away the unruliness of the post-heaven body and mind, so that innate nature and life return to their original docility.

Everyone has a body and a mind, and everyone is endowed with a constant nature from Heaven, so why do people not understand cultivation? It is because they lack the true secret formula and do not know to first secure the shen (spirit) within a single aperture. As a result, the hun (ethereal soul) and po (corporeal soul) cannot remain steady in the liver and lungs. Each oversteps its place and acts in the other's stead, and following joy and anger, one does evil or good at will. The mind gradually sinks toward the turbid and the base, and people do not know to return to the origin. This is truly regrettable. The next chapter will further explain the methods of molding and refining the hun and po.

Chapter Forty-four follows from the preceding text. It explains that all people possess the qualifications for becoming immortal, and it encourages them to cultivate diligently.

The hun and po are the masters of the mind, and the shen is gathered and governed by intention (yi). Practice huohou (the method of regulating the stages of refinement in neidan) quietly and naturally, and silently turn the first line (the initial stage in the Yijing in which yang qi begins to stir).

"Yi" (intention) is what the heart emits, that is, the place where thoughts first begin to stir. "Yi yi bao" (enfolding with intention) refers to keeping thoughts constantly gathered within the heart, concealed and not revealed. "Ruru" (as-if) describes how, the moment a thought arises, it is like a seal pressed onto a document or tallies fitting together. It accords with the agreement and then naturally withdraws and returns to stillness. "Momo" (silently) is like handling confidential affairs: the commander plans alone behind the curtain, admitting no outside discussion. Here the image is borrowed to describe how a person, gathering the spirit and returning to the root of life, guards only this single thought.

"Chuyao" (the initial line) refers to the moment a thought has just begun to stir. Neidan (internal alchemy) treats jing (essence), shen (spirit), hun (ethereal soul), po (corporeal soul), and yi (intention) as the medicinal materials of cultivation. The hun and po originally reside in the liver and lungs and are not governed by the heart. Within the heart, however, there is an upright spirit that dwells there peacefully, quietly governing the whole body, and every part of the body obeys its direction. When yi arises in the heart, a correct thought has just begun to move. If one sincerely believes in and carefully keeps this thought, it is enough to gather jing and qi so that the hun and po also lie hidden in their proper positions. In this way, one can follow benevolence and righteousness, cultivate De (Virtue/Power), and in turn nourish one's own spirit.

After birth, the heart continually contacts external things and finds it hard to settle into stillness. Shen thus scatters and transforms into qi, and qi scatters and transforms into jing. Qi becomes abundant while shen grows empty, and the heart loses its mastery and cannot steadily govern the whole body. The hun and po no longer dwell in their original organs and instead seek to manipulate the shen, wishing to supplant the heart as the master.

Hun belongs to wood and corresponds to the liver; Po belongs to metal and corresponds to the lungs. If the Hun leaves the liver and enters the heart, the fire-qi grows fierce and turns back to overpower the nature of wood. If the Po leaves the lungs and enters the heart, it is smelted by the fire, and the emotions begin to flow out of control. The Hun then loses its benevolence and turns to anger, and the Po defies righteousness and gives way to indulgence. Anger, fear, partiality, aversion, and sorrow tangle together in the heart and are hard to stop all at once. The root cause is that the Shen does not stay settled in the house of the heart, so the Hun and Po seize the opportunity to take control and act as masters in place of the heart.

For this reason, those who cultivate the Dao know that the Hun and Po must not be allowed to govern the heart. The first task is to condense the Jing and Shen and hold fast to correct mindfulness. When correct mindfulness becomes firm, the heart and kidneys naturally join; when the spirit is gathered into intention, it no longer scatters; and the Hun and Po also return with the spirit into intention. This is what it means to gather the spirit and the Hun and Po completely, so that correct mindfulness holds the leading position.

Let the thoughts focus on the present moment and remain still and calm, and circulate the inner fire in a pure and natural way. After a while, one perceives the return of the one Yang (the initial stirring of Yang qi, newly reborn and moving again). Then one quietly circulates the Zhoutian (the term in neidan practice for the route along which the breath moves). The Hun and Po no longer mix in idle thoughts, and the Yang qi no longer surges; instead it rises straight up and meets the Shen. Correct mindfulness also blends with it and becomes Shen, and from this the Dantou (the initial state in which the inner elixir congeals) is formed. This is the essential method of gathering, uniting, and congealing. Read together with Chapter 60 below, it further shows that correct mindfulness must be established first.

The above is Chapter 45. This chapter follows the previous one and laments that people do not understand the principles of cultivation. It therefore points out the proper methods for refining the Hun and Po and condensing the spirit. Read together with Chapter 10 above, it also further shows that correct mindfulness must be established first.

Where the heart lies below and the kidneys above, the liver lies to the west, and the lungs lie in the center on the left. This is neither the intestines nor the stomach, but the place where the primordial qi (Yuanqi) naturally circulates.

This chapter continues from the previous one and explains "quietly circulating the first line" (mo mo yun chu yao), which means letting the body's yang qi (yang qi) flow on its own. The text does not say clearly how the yang qi moves or where it returns, and readers who are left in doubt may grope around blindly and drift far off course. The author therefore identifies more precisely where qi circulates within the body.

The passage places this area roughly below the heart and above the kidneys, and to the west of the liver and the left of the lungs. It is not among the six fu organs such as the intestines and stomach. At first glance it may seem to lie at the spleen, but Chapter 38 says that "the spleen and stomach are not the chamber of spirit" (pi wei fei shen shi). This means that anywhere in the body that is solid and substantial is not where the true qi returns. The real site is the empty, hidden, and secluded interior, vast like the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), with a space that seems to embrace heaven, earth, and the four directions. Within it, qi flows naturally without obstruction and needs no deliberate pushing. One need only let qi nourish the spirit and accumulate it repeatedly, and over time the yang spirit (yang shen) will nourish the whole body. In this way, a person can come to understand what the "one aperture" (yi qiao) actually refers to.

The subtle function does not depend on mental control, and the essential mechanism does not appear when one is deliberately acting. Who can truly understand this "aperture"? For now, one should not take Wuwei (non-action) to mean simply letting things go and ignoring them.

The aim of Chapter 46 is to show that when a person empties and quiets the heart, the circulation of qi will arise on its own. This removes the confusion of searching for openings in various parts of the body.

"Qiao" (the knack or key point) means the crux or essential secret. It need not be understood as a concrete opening or cavity. The Way of forming the Golden Elixir (jindan zhi dao) rests fundamentally on keeping one's true intention (zhen yi) pure and still. Once Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) join, one refines Jing with Qi so that it transforms into Shen (spirit). In this process, Jing and Qi unite naturally, in subtle harmony, and congeal of their own accord. They cannot be compelled by forcing thoughts or by deliberate manipulation.

Take, for example, the moment when yang qi stirs. Although the second chapter mentions the phrase "caiqu yao zhi shi" (one must know the right time for gathering), the "shi" here refers to a subtle opportunity perceived within, not to a specific hour marked by a bell or a water clock (louke). The knack of withdrawing in advance and not revealing it easily is indeed something not everyone can detect.

When Jing and Qi are joined, one should not cling to action even while acting. Before the joining has occurred, one should work through apparent non-action. This is the Way of Wuwei (non-action) that right mindfulness (zhengnian) must grasp. Before reaching the stages of fentai (separating the embryo) and wenyang (nurturing), do not simply let the process run unattended, falling into bewilderment and missing the opportune moment.

Following the preceding chapters, this section explains that when the refining of the elixir and the cultivation of the Dao reach a critical point, one must not mistakenly take wuwei (non-action) to mean doing nothing, lest one miss the right moment and even fall into danger. Therefore, in daily practice one must always hold to right mindfulness: in stillness, nourish the mind with care, and in activity, examine oneself earnestly, striving to avoid error. Once an error occurs, a succession of ills is likely to follow, the work of the inner elixir will be damaged, and life itself may be endangered. Earlier efforts may then be wasted entirely, and to cultivate anew will take further time.

Bai Yuchan, the Fifth Patriarch of the Southern School (Nanzong), once failed three times in refining the elixir because he had not grasped the intent of the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality). Fortunately, his natural gifts were exceptional, and in the end he did not suffer serious harm from these failures.

Yanglin looks back on his early cultivation and recalls that he knew only how to wash clean his thoughts, but did not understand how to hold to right mindfulness and allow the spirit (shen) to withdraw and settle within. This is like chasing a thief and driving out the master of the house along with him. As a result, in stillness his spirit could not be concentrated, and in dealing with affairs he was not upright or decisive, often hesitating when faced with matters. This shows that half of his mind was still governed by the ethereal and corporeal souls (hun and po), and his spirit could not be unified by his intention (yi).

In the winter of the Xinmao year, his teacher offered a single remark in his ear, and it was like having the "ghee of enlightenment" poured over his head, a metaphor for being inspired and suddenly understanding. His heart felt washed by sweet dew, and he at once welcomed the "master" back into his mind. Afterward, he gradually felt that in stillness his mind was empty and clear, and in activity his responses were upright. His daily practice became much less laborious, and he could respond to events by following their course, no longer finding them difficult. Nevertheless, he had still not grasped the subtle moment of the Dao's incipience, and his inner mind was not yet able to be quiet at any time while attending to affairs. He therefore constantly reminded himself not to let his thoughts step beyond the proper bounds.

Three more years passed, and his teacher transmitted this scripture (jing) to him, instructing him to fast, quiet his mind, and withdraw his hearing, so that he could contemplate it with focus. Eventually, he let go even of the thought of "fasting" itself, and the subtle principle suddenly appeared, as though a single half-character were enough to bring complete understanding. His teacher had penetrated deeply into the realm of the Dao, and his hope was that Yanglin would come to realize its principles for himself. If the time is not yet ripe, one may hear the teaching and yet be as though one had not heard it at all. Yanglin carefully recorded his experiences of cultivation through diligent, arduous study.

"There is being that is not non-being, and wuwei joins with youwei": the Dao is not empty of all things, and cultivation is not a matter of never acting, but of bringing non-action and purposeful action into accord. "Hold the authority of transformation within the hand; the hare and crow knot the golden fat": grasp the leading role in the transformations of Yin-Yang and bring it back to oneself. The "hare and crow" refer to the sun and moon, and often serve as a figure for the movement of Yin and Yang; "knotting the golden fat" means that the essences of Yin and Yang condense and are refined into the substance of the elixir.

There is a kind of thing that appears to have form, yet is not an ordinary material object. Through a mind of wuwei (non-action), one can harmonize the workings of youwei (purposive action). Huaquan (transforming authority) refers to holding the leading role in change. Wutu (the Black Crow and the Hare) refers to the sun and the moon respectively, and serves as a metaphor for the natures of Heaven and Earth. Jie jinzhi (knotting the golden fat) describes how, when the yin and yang vital essences condense, they become soft like molten metal, yet within that softness lies a solid quality. This is close in meaning to Bai Zi's saying, "Heaven, Earth, sun, and moon are as soft as silk," and to Chen Niwan's saying, "soft as a skein of silk, hard as iron."

When vital essences condense into a substance, it is indeed you, or existence, and not nothingness. In neidan (internal alchemy), mercury (gong) and lead (qian) are metaphorical terms for the yin and yang vital essences. After the mercury appears and the lead-qi begins to arise, the two condense together, and when lead and mercury meet they then pass through and reach directly upward. All of these belong to youwei practices.

However, if these two essences are allowed to entangle and circulate with one another without being regulated, they may move downward and fail to ascend, and this is improper. The practitioner should gather the purposive essences with the correct mind of wuwei governance. First let them move in their natural course, then gather them inward and store them, so that the mind does not cling outward, and the essences together return to a state of subtle stillness and secret quiet. Only then is this appropriate.

To grasp the subtle pivot of this transforming change is like holding the leading role in one's own hands. During cultivation, the key junctures between the successive stages naturally follow the proper method, and so one is able to take part in the transformation of Heaven and Earth and to grasp the beginning and end of things. When one's own nature is upright, the nature of Heaven and Earth also returns to uprightness. The doctrine of zhonghe (centrality and harmony) transmitted by Zisi Zi, grandson of Confucius and traditionally regarded as the author of the Zhongyong (Doctrine of the Mean), and the phrase yishi zanhua (healing the world and assisting transformation) spoken by Chunyangzi (Lü Dongbin), can both be understood through this.

The tiger roars on the Western Mountain, and the Azure Dragon chants east of the Northern Sea. To capture them, one must go through a "field battle" (ye zhan), and afterward they are set in the Gen and Kun palaces (the Gen and Kun positions of the Eight Trigrams, or Bagua).

Here the "tiger" (hu) is a metaphor for the yin-natured body, and the "tiger's roar" symbolizes that yin essence (jing) is about to become full. The "dragon" (long) is a metaphor for the yang-natured heart, and the "dragon's chant" symbolizes that yang qi (qi) has only just begun to stir. The "Western Mountain" corresponds to the Gen position of the Xiantian (Prior Heaven) Bagua, symbolizing that yin qi is gradually growing abundant. "East of the Northern Sea" corresponds to the Zhen position of the Xiantian Bagua, symbolizing the first birth of a single yang.

"Field battle" (ye zhan) refers to subduing the body and mind. My teacher explained that, according to the directions of the Houtian (Later Heaven) Bagua, at the junction of the Xu and Hai branches lies the Qian hexagram, where yang qi is enveloped by yin qi. For this reason, the top line of the Kun hexagram carries the image of "dragons fighting in the wilds" (long zhan yu ye). Han-dynasty Confucian scholars read the Qian hexagram as a symbol of yang qi first arising in the open wilderness, and the early masters of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school called the junction of Xu and Hai "the wilds." The Wenyan (Commentary on the Words of the Text) attributed to Confucius says: "When yin qi gathers against yang qi, they must fight. This is why it is called field battle."

The Gen-Kun Palace refers to the Taiyin position among the Four Images. Gen (Mountain) symbolizes a palace gate, and Kun (Earth) symbolizes closing the doors, so the image carries the sense of shutting the gate and hiding deep within. The scripture uses it to teach that at this moment one should gather in the ears, eyes, and mouth and keep them from scattering outward. This is what is meant by perceiving and guarding what lies in the hidden depths, and it is also the method of refining (lian) in alchemy.

When a person rests quietly at night, the pure qi (qi) of the night has just arisen, which is the time when yin is about to become full. Above the heart's hollow, a point of yin essence (jing) has already gathered. When one suddenly awakens, this is yin reaching its extreme and yang being born. Beneath the body of Kun, a trace of yang qi naturally stirs, so the yin essence condenses and yin and yang meet. If one observes with correct mindfulness at this moment, one must immediately gather the mind-spirit (shen) and withdraw it into the hidden depths. This is what is meant by subduing body and mind. Jing and qi then naturally blend, fill, and rise up to the back. They stabilize body and mind and consolidate nature and life (xingming), after which they transform into "divine water" (shenshui), the term in internal alchemy (neidan) for the body's fluids, which spreads throughout the body. Next, one must hold the spirit steady for a moment longer and lodge it in the palace of Taiyin. This is the method of withdrawing into the secret depths.

The so-called "catching" and "lodging" are only later reflections on the scene of yin and yang first uniting. Relying on the power of stillness, it is as if one seizes them and stores them away. In actual practice, one must never add the slightest calculation or deliberate arrangement.

The Yijing commentary on the Kun hexagram says: "When yin doubts yang, there must be battle, for it suspects that yang is absent." An older edition reads differently: "When yang congeals with yang, there must be battle, for it is combined with yang." Here "doubts" should be "congeals," "suspects" should be "combined," and the word "absent" does not belong. The predecessors of the Quanzhen school have followed the older text since the Han and Tang, so it is retained here as well, to show the basis for the natural congealing in the highest grade of the Dan path.

The above is Chapter Forty-Nine. This chapter says that one must promptly observe with correct mindfulness and gather the mind-spirit, thereby subduing body and mind. This is the key secret of gathering, uniting, and refining. Described this way it seems to take time, yet the result comes quickly, because the essential point lies in attaining it naturally within stillness. Once one perceives, one immediately withdraws, and this is the basis for its completion.

The Fu hexagram (Return, Thunder over Earth) signifies the first stirring of yang when yin has reached its extreme, while the Gou hexagram (Coming to Meet, Wind over Heaven) signifies yang at its height with yin gradually arising. Both are used here to explain the waxing and waning of light and darkness in body and mind. The Tun hexagram (Difficulty at the Beginning; Zhen below, Kan above) signifies that yang has just begun to move and yin essence gathers with it, a precarious situation. At such a moment one should quickly gather right mindfulness, withdraw, and let the qi (vital energy) circulate on its own, so that it passes the dangerous point and continues to rise. The Meng hexagram (Youthful Folly; Kan below, Gen above) signifies that as soon as the mind perceives the first arising of breath, it wants to appropriate it. This is equally a critical juncture. The mind should be stilled and should first retreat and conceal itself, without rashly grasping, and this is the way to nourish zhengqi (upright qi).

In cultivation, the moment of change arises and vanishes in an instant. If mindfulness is applied early, body and mind are easily gathered in. Once the change has solidified into momentum, it proceeds very quickly. The essential point is to maintain stillness and clarity. Once one perceives the stirring of qi, one should immediately gather it in and withdraw, then hold it steady for a moment. This is what it means to settle it. The phrase "Gen-Kun palace" (Gen-Kun gong) likewise refers to this state of steadiness, not to some dim, actual location. One should not cling to external signs and search for them outwardly, for doing so runs counter to the essential principles of danfa (the alchemical method).

Within the furnace there condenses something pure and clear, like fallen snow, while the mind, restless as a monkey, cannot be found anywhere.

The four terms Ming (brightness), Hui (obscurity), Hun (dusk), and Xiao (dawn) describe the movement and changes of qi. Just as the sky turns from night to light, which is xiao, and after that activity returns to stillness, as daylight dims into hun, these are all natural expressions of qi in circulation. The terms si (governing) and zhi (uprightness) mean that the true qi can regulate and rectify its own movement by itself: it is concentrated when at rest and upright when in motion.

I need only to gather body and mind together and keep them from stirring at will. As Zhang Zi said, "Let it take the lead, and I will play the guest." Here "it" refers to qi, and "I" refers to the mind. In this way the dan furnace (danlu) naturally coalesces, and the white snow (baixue), which is the divine water (shenshui), a term in Daoist inner alchemy (neidan) for the subtle fluid produced in cultivation, spreads throughout the body, so that no stray thoughts can slip in through an empty gap. At this point, even if one wishes to wash the mind clean, one finds no trace of thoughts arising or vanishing.

"Monkey mind" (yuanxin) refers to the various forced interpretations, delusions, and stray thoughts that arise before one has received the oral instructions. "White snow" is the divine water, whose meaning has already been explained in Chapter Five.

This chapter follows the previous one and further explains the methods of gathering and combining: black mercury gives rise to yellow leaves, and red lead blossoms into purple flowers. One must also proceed in accordance with the fire timing (huohou), the attention to the rhythm of refining and nourishing in inner alchemy, so that cinnabar can form within the cauldron.

The spirit-consciousness (Shen) in the heart has already risen upward through the body's Qi (vital energy), so it is likened to "black mercury." The Qi of the body absorbs yin essence (Jing) and condenses into spirit (Shen), so it is called "red lead."

The phrase "producing yellow leaves" means that black mercury contains yang Qi. When it returns to the purely yin earth of Kun and rests there for a moment, it receives the nourishment of earth Qi and puts forth yellow leaves, the tender new shoots of the Yellow Sprout (huangya). Master Qu holds that the leaves take their nature from yin yet grow luxuriantly because they receive yang Qi. This image expresses yin Qi condensing within yang Qi, the first sign that the elixir is beginning to form.

The phrase "blooming purple flowers" means that red lead also depends on black mercury. The two rest together for a moment and are steamed by fire Qi, and so they open into purple flowers. When water and fire unite, the color is purple. Master Qu holds that the purple flower is the calyx of the fruit, a metaphor for water being tempered by fire and congealing into the elixir. This is the initial foundation of the elixir's formation.

If the mind and spirit are allowed to scatter outward at this stage, the spirit Qi will still leak away. How then could it remain stable for long and form the "Valley Spirit" (gushen), a spirit that is empty, still, and numinous? For this reason, one must quickly let go of body and mind, firmly hold to correct mindfulness, contain the spirit-light, and remain silently still, using this as the fire-timing (huohou) of the refining process. One should be like an infant, concentrating the Qi until it becomes soft and supple, neither forgetting it nor forcing its growth. Observe its transformations quietly, and the heart-Qi will become full, like cinnabar congealing in the cauldron. When virtue is solid and settled, the temperament of the Qi-nature also becomes stable, and only then may one be called the Valley Spirit. Even so, at this point one still cannot guarantee immortality.

This concludes Chapter Fifty-One. The chapter follows the previous one and further explains the methods of yin-yang union, congealing, and refining.

"Wood fluid must guard against the hare; metal essence must especially avoid the rooster."

"Wood fluid" uses wood to represent nature (xing). The heart arises from nature, so it is called wood fluid. The "hare" corresponds to the Mao hour in the earthly branches. The hexagram Qi of the Mao hour corresponds to Thunder over Heaven (Dazhuang, "Great Invigoration"), a hexagram in which yang Qi is abundant and exceeds the moderate state. Here it serves as a metaphor for the stage of cultivation at which the heart has become upright and strong.

Wood is used to represent the original nature (benxing). The heart arises from the original nature, and so it is called "wood-fluid." The Rabbit corresponds to the Mao hour in the Earthly Branches, and the hexagram for this time is "Thunder over Heaven, Great Invigoration" (Leitian Dazhuang), a hexagram in which yang energy is so abundant that it exceeds its proper measure. The hexagram is used here to illustrate a point: when cultivation reaches this stage, one's resolve has become upright and strong. On encountering a petty person, one recoils as if from a foul smell, and anger rises with the affairs of the world. This anger springs up from the wood-nature, but it can turn back and harm that nature, so it must be guarded against in advance. If one waits until anger has already arisen before restraining it, the original nature is already disordered, and the "Valley Hexagram" (Gukun) falls into danger as well. The gentleman does not act contrary to ritual propriety precisely in order to stabilize the original nature. When the original nature is stable, the inner strength of yang becomes truly robust. Guarding against anger is meant to remove the "obstacles of principle" (lizhang) that hinder cultivation.

Metal is used to represent desire, and the body is born through desire, so it is called "metal essence" (jinjing). The Rooster corresponds to the You hour in the Earthly Branches, and the hexagram for this time is "Wind over Earth, Contemplation" (Fengdi Guan), a hexagram in which yin energy grows beyond its proper measure. The hexagram is used here to illustrate a point: when cultivation reaches this stage, the body has already become robust. Once external things stir it, as when one sees beauty and the heart is seized with longing, desire is set in motion and feeling gains the upper hand. This drains the essential qi, dries up the metal essence, and makes desire difficult to control, so one must be all the more vigilant. If one waits until desire has already been stirred before suppressing it, feeling has already pulled body and mind along, and the "Valley Spirit" (Gushen), the inner primordial spirit (yuanshen), falls into peril. The gentleman observes the arising and changing of the self in order to check craving and let go of desire. When desire fades, the inner mind can observe itself freely. Guarding against these triggers is meant to sever the "demonic obstacles" (mozhang) created by desire.

When using "drawing and adding" (choutian), the methods of regulating and increasing or decreasing the body's essential qi, one should coordinate them with "bathing" (muyu), the stage in which the true qi is nourished and harmonized. The timing is like that of the moon just before it becomes full.

When one guards and warns in this way and carries out drawing and adding, the true qi within the body will circulate naturally, warming and steaming, and cultivation will advance accordingly. As the "Lake over Heaven, Resoluteness" (Zetian Guai) hexagram symbolizes, one should emulate its hexagram virtue (guade) and grasp the climate of the moon's fullness. When one guards and warns in this way and carries out drawing and adding, the true qi within the body will circulate naturally, warming and steaming, and cultivation will advance accordingly. As the "Lake over Heaven, Resoluteness" hexagram symbolizes, one should emulate its hexagram virtue: use the intention of the spirit to govern the breath, follow the momentum of yang's vigorous movement, and keep the temperament calm and joyful, so that the spirit and breath are full and unobstructed. This is like the climate of the moon just before it is full. But one must never boast, grow complacent, let one's will become agitated, or wear out one's spirit. One should still keep oneself gathered and concealed, emulating the gentleman who bestows kindness on the common people without claiming the virtue for himself. In this way the heart becomes broad, the body becomes at ease, and one can remain full without overflowing.

The above is the fifty-second chapter. It follows the three preceding chapters and discusses the method of bathing in cultivation.

When the wind first begins to stir among the myriad things, and the full moon has just lit the hundred mountains, one must quickly hold fast to the correct decrees (zheng ling), and then the Zhou Tian (cosmic circulation) can be set in motion.

Here the "myriad sounds" (wan lai) are a metaphor for the bodily orifices, and the "thousand mountains" (qian shan) for the meridians that pervade the body. When a practitioner's mind, body, nature, and emotions have been cultivated to this point, shen (spirit) and qi (vital energy) are abundant, the orifices throughout the body are open, and the meridians are clear. It is like the wind just rising, with the myriad openings responding in turn, or the full moon shining on the thousand mountains. At this stage the climate of cultivation has shifted from the Guai hexagram toward the Qian hexagram, approaching the realm of pure yang. It is also the time when the Yuan Ming (original destiny) is about to be restored and the Shi Shen (conscious mind) is about to be transformed.

If one cannot guard the interior tightly at this time, the body becomes as though its gates stand wide open. The Sanshi (Three Corpses) and Jiuchong (Nine Worms), which Daoist teaching describes as the noxious and disease-causing things within the body, will seize the opportunity to invade. They may carry off the Gu Shen (valley spirit, the primal spirit and source of life) so that it leaves the body. It may scatter and take on forms such as flying, diving, moving, rooting, womb-born, egg-born, damp-born, or transformation-born, and, following each person's habitual cravings, draw their thoughts away so that even right intention is lost. Such a person, though not dead, becomes dull and clouded in mind. This is why those who know only how to advance and not how to withdraw bring regret upon themselves.

Therefore at this point one must promptly proclaim the correct decrees, guard the prohibitions more strictly, and keep watch without interruption. Hold to the admonition of "kuo nang" (tying the mouth of a sack, closing and concealing as one would seal a bag), and be wary of the image of "yue yuan" (leaping into the abyss), approaching matters as cautiously as one would stand at the edge of a deep chasm. Let the mind and spirit become empty and still, waiting for the Yuan Ming to return. In this way the Shi Shen will naturally transform, and one may broadly circulate the Zhou Tian.

The above is the fifty-third chapter. It follows the previous chapter and discusses how to hold firmly and guard closely in cultivation.

Medicinal materials may be old or young, and the fire timing (huo hou) must be understood in terms of when to draw out and when to add. When a single grain of elixir light (dan guang) rises, it is like cool moonlight shining on jade eaves.

"Medicinal materials" refers to the Yuanming (the original life-root inherent in the human body, which returns to its source). When gathering the medicine, if the climate has passed its proper time, it is like medicinal materials that are overripe; if it has not yet reached its time, it is like materials that are too tender. People differ in temperament and disposition, and when one is holding fullness and waiting for the right moment, any slight inclination in one's nature may cause one to lose proper measure at the return of the Yuanming: the unyielding person, who hurries to seize it, acts too forcefully and misses it; the yielding person, who is fearful and hesitant and does not know what to do, also misses it. The former grasps too quickly, and the medicine is still tender; the latter receives it too late, and the medicine is already aged. Both fail to master the timing of the fire.

Therefore, the practitioner must examine his own temperament and, following the principle of "strength is not yielded to but overcome by firmness; harmony is overcome by gentleness; the submerged is overcome by firmness; the lofty and bright is overcome by gentleness," balance firmness and softness: where unyieldingness predominates, regulate it with gentleness; where yieldingness predominates, support it with firmness; where one is excessively submerged, rouse it with firmness; where one's brightness is excessively exposed, restrain it with gentleness. Always constrain oneself by the standard of calm and uprightness, carefully hold to the central and correct position, and wait for the moment before acting; only then can the medicine be obtained in due time, and the subsequent nurturing will be easier. At this stage, it is especially important to grasp the timing of the fire, adjusting its intensity appropriately, while strictly guarding the precepts.

Before long, a point of cinnabar light appears, and within the body it seems as though thunder and lightning are stirring; this is the sign of the Yuanming's return. Even if this force rushes straight to the crown of the head and then comes to rest at the Celestial Valley (the internal-cultivation site in the head), this is what the sixty-fourth chapter below calls "retaining the mercury and dwelling in the golden cauldron" (causing the refined essence-qi to dwell in the cauldron of the Dantian). Afterward, one feels the pulse cease, and body and mind for a time enter a state of stillness and dim absorption; after a moment, the mind feels open and expansive, the body comfortable, the skin fresh and clear, old illnesses disappear, and one no longer dreams. Here it is held that the Hun (ethereal soul) has melted into the Shen and Qi, and the Valley Spirit (the inner, empty and yet luminous original substance) has also become one with the returned Yuanming, forming the initial foundation of the Yang Spirit (the luminous spirit produced by cultivation).

At this point, although Heaven's qi has already entered the body, the Yang Spirit has only just begun to coagulate and still requires continued nurturing, like the single ray of moonlight that first appears after the winter solstice, which still must be tended. It can only illuminate the jade eaves (a metaphor for the upper boundary of internal cultivation) and cannot yet pass beyond the eaves, which is why it is called "the cold toad shoots through the jade eaves."

The "Golden Elixir" (Jindan) practice of three hundred days begins at this stage. Primordial true qi (xiantian zhenqi) condenses into spirit, and only then can practice continue without interference from demonic obstacles (mo zhang). Recently I have seen other elixir manuals pass over this point with a brief remark that the "Yang Spirit" (yangshen) has appeared, and this still reflects a mind scattered by distraction. If one says the Yang Spirit manifests within the body, the wording is still inappropriate. If one says it takes on a bodily form, I do not understand where such an illusion would come from. The Song of Striking the Trigram Lines (Qiaoyao Ge) by Chunyangzi says: "Three leads, once only one lead is obtained, / the golden fruit and immortal sprout have not yet taken form." This can serve as evidence for the point.

The above is Chapter Fifty-Four. This chapter follows the previous one and explains that the methods of practice should be carried out in a timely manner, namely the "division of the embryo" (fentai), the stage in which the Yang Spirit first begins to coalesce during cultivation. Practitioners who have laid the foundation (zhuji) and practiced quietly and intently, day and night, for a long time reach a point where the primal life-force (yuanming zhi qi) returns, and the Valley Spirit (gushen), the inner numinous spirit, is cultivated to completion, enabling one to preserve the form and not die. This is precisely the moment when the Yang Spirit has just taken shape. The methods of nurturing (wenyang) are recorded after Chapter Sixty-Four. From here, the following nine chapters all clarify the essentials of the Returning Elixir (huandan) and offer encouragement.

Pearls have been cut out from inside mussel shells, and eggs are easily found in a chicken's nest. When the nonexistent gives rise to something with form, spirit and qi will naturally blend together.

Even tiny creatures know how to guard stillness and maintain singleness of focus until they achieve results. The mussel holds a pearl, and the hen hatches an egg, as if form had arisen from nothing. From this we can see that those who cultivate the Dao of the elixir must also be steadfast and sincere over the long term, keep the spirit concentrated without scattering, let the breath be gentle and continuous, and allow spirit and qi to blend naturally.

The above is Chapter Fifty-Five. This chapter uses images from the natural world to illustrate human cultivation, and it also contains the principle that after the division of the embryo one should follow what is natural and continue to nurture steadily. Can people really be inferior to these tiny creatures?

Spirit and qi are not like child and mother, and the body and the mind are not like husband and wife.

Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) are not related as child and mother, and body and mind are not related as husband and wife. What matters is aligning with the timing of the Dao's movement. Yet who truly knows where the elixir forms?

Earlier master-transmitted elixir manuals often used "child and mother" and "husband and wife" as metaphors for shen and qi, and for body and mind. But the "child and mother" comparison tends to make the meaning fragmented, while the "husband and wife" comparison tends to lead people toward mistaken imaginings. This passage therefore makes clear that these are only metaphors, not literal child-and-mother or husband-and-wife relations. Practitioners should not cling to the wording. They should understand how to seize the right moment and follow the proper methods, so that they accord with the movement of the Dao. Cultivation begins with deliberate effort and ultimately returns to Wuwei (non-action). One condenses and refines yin Jing (essence), transforming it into yang shen, the yang-natured spirit that the classic describes. When shen condenses and qi gathers, the elixir forms of its own accord. As for where the elixir forms, it is only within a formless, still, and secluded state, and the true appearance (a reality that is genuine and not empty) arises from this. The substance of nourishing qi lies in reaching stillness and emptiness, while the emptiness of concentrating shen lies in restoring solidity. After long nurturing, qi becomes vigorous and begins to shine, yang shen then appears, and heavenly qi gathers in response. Who can truly grasp this?

○ The above is Chapter Fifty-Six, which dispels attachment to emptiness and the pursuit of false views, and clarifies the true essentials applied in cultivation.

Where the elixir nucleus (dantou) begins to condense is precisely the moment the medicinals gather. The Dragon and Tiger (metaphors in internal alchemy, neidan, for the two forces of yin and yang) struggle against each other, while the Lord of the East (here, the practitioner's governing consciousness) remains entirely unaware.

When qi is nourished by Jing and rises upward through the body, Jing gathers within qi and is refined into shen. This is where the elixir nucleus first forms, and it is the moment the medicinals gather. Understand that when Jing gathers in qi, it is like the Dragon and Tiger fighting. At this point, one's governing consciousness has already withdrawn into a subtle depth and falls into an unaware state, so qi naturally prevails. Zhang Boduan's saying, "Only after the battle is over can one see the Sage," expresses exactly this meaning.

○ The above is Chapter Fifty-Seven. Here the text again points out that the joining, condensing, refining, and transforming all occur within a single instant. It also dispels expressions such as "seizing the wondrous" from Chapter Forty-Nine, teaching practitioners to follow change, gather inward, and return to stillness, neither forgetting nor forcing.

Sidedoor methods, minor techniques, strange arts, and idle talk need not be heeded. The oral formulas of the Golden Liquor and Returning Elixir (jinye huandan, a method of refining Jing, Qi, and Shen internally into the elixir) ultimately have no second path.

The orthodox oral instructions of this Golden Liquid Returning Elixir (Jinye Huandan), a method of internal alchemy (Neidan), follow the same undivided true Way as orthodox Mahayana Buddhism and the Confucian Doctrine of the Mean. Unlike the heterodox side-door practices (pangmen yishu), they do not bring calamity upon those who follow them, and unlike shallow and useless teachings, they do not waste one's effort in vain.

Yang Lin cautiously explains: "I do not know exactly what the 'heterodox side-door practices' refer to. My teacher never stated it explicitly, and I am not familiar with the details. I have only read the Cuixu Yin (Song of the Jade Void) by the Perfected (Zhenren) Chen Niwan, the Fourth Patriarch of the Southern School. Its passages distinguishing right from wrong are clear and plain, like the sun hanging high in the blue sky, so I have appended them here for readers' reference."

Chapter Fifty-Eight: When teaching others to study the Dao methods and to choose oral instructions, one must discern the correct from the deviant, so as not to stray into side-door practices.

Regardless of rank or station, high or low, and regardless of whether one is a husband, wife, or sibling, anyone who sincerely aspires to cultivate immortality may study the alchemical classics (danjing).

The Way of cultivating immortality makes no distinction between noble and humble, or between men and women. Whoever keeps to their proper station, applies themselves diligently, and sincerely wishes to cultivate is a person with the affinity to pursue the Dao, and may also be counted among the family of the immortals. Therefore, these alchemical classics may be read by everyone.

Chapter Fifty-Nine: This is a words of exhortation to the multitude, meaning that everyone may study together.

A dilapidated house is not hard to repair, and when the medicinal power is exhausted, it is not hard to make it sprout anew. So long as one understands the method of returning and restoring (guifu zhi fa), the precious treasures will accumulate like a mountain.

Here the text says that, since everyone may cultivate the Dao, the author worries that discerning people in the world may mistakenly hear heterodox arts and unprofitable talk, and take "everyone may study" to mean that any method at all is worth learning.

The preceding passage says that everyone can cultivate, but the author also worries that discerning people will be swayed by heterodox doctrines, so he laments his aging, frail body and gives up on seeking immortality. In fact, the highest-grade Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) inner alchemy (Neidan), which emphasizes dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu), relies on nothing more than Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). When Shen and Qi are connected, they pervade heaven and earth, and they do not differ according to age. Whenever the thoughts settle for a moment and the mind becomes still, that is a moment of the "valley spirit" (gushen), a spirit that is empty and tranquil yet luminously aware. Whenever the intention is upright for a moment and the heart-qi is clear, that is a moment of "primal Qi" (yuanqi), the Qi that is the root of life. One who is willing to settle the mind in this very moment and hold fast to right mindfulness can nourish the Qi of this moment and let it circulate through the body.

If this is sustained without interruption or slackening over a long period, Qi nourishes Shen, Shen becomes concentrated and Qi gathers, and Jing (essence) is also born from Qi. As Jing grows abundant, Shen naturally becomes vigorous. When the "divine water" (shenshui, an inner alchemical term for the fluid that nourishes body and mind) is poured in and the "sea of Qi" (qihai, the lower abdominal region where primal Qi is stored) fills, yang Qi rises upward, condenses Jing and Qi, and transforms into Shen. When Shen and Qi are full, one can return to youth and become an infant again; this is the method of restoring the root of life. Why worry that the medicine (yao, the inner alchemical term for Jing, Qi, Shen and related substances) will be hard to produce? For this reason the author deliberately uses the house as a metaphor for the body: if one is willing to repair it, the house is easily kept whole. If one gathers body and mind with right mindfulness and keeps them quiet and stored within, the medicine will not be hard to form, and Shen will return and Qi will be restored. Accumulated day after day, it becomes like a house filled with gold and treasure. Zhang Ziyang (Zhang Boduan, a Northern Song Daoist inner alchemist) says, "While true gold builds the house, how could it ever wither?" This too uses the same metaphor.

The above is the sixtieth chapter. It follows the previous chapter and encourages the elderly to cultivate as well. In sum, so long as a single breath remains, body, mind, and life are still in one's own hands. If Shen can be kept settled and unmoving, Qi will naturally continue without break, and the aspiration to cultivate must not slacken even slightly. The following three chapters will continue to describe methods for restoring the root of life.

The Hun and Po unite to form the three natures, and Jing and Shen gather to form the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Within these, the Four Images further divide, and when gathered together they condense into the embryonic essence.

Human nature was originally one. It is the nature that Heaven bestowed upon our hearts. The hun (ethereal soul) and po (corporeal soul) are stored in the liver and lungs respectively, and so they should not originally stand alongside the nature within the heart.

Master Qu holds that, before cultivation, the sense of right and wrong already belongs to the nature. Thoughts that scatter in many directions and drift with the currents are the work of the hun, while stubborn thoughts that ignore what is right and wrong are the work of the po. Li Shan, in his commentary to the Wen Xuan (Selections of Refined Literature), says: "The hun is the refined qi of the body, and the po is the force by which the emotions reach decisions. Both can seize control from the true nature." The principle is stated clearly here.

Thus, when ordinary people face a matter, their first thought is usually clear, because it springs from the original heart and is true intention. When a thought suddenly changes, this is the hun beginning to stir. Although doubt may arise in the heart at this point, it has not yet become deeply deviant. Once a third thought settles into a conclusion, the po is at work, filled with darkness and partiality, and it has become entirely selfish.

There is only one human nature, but when the heart is lured by external things, it cannot distinguish good from evil. Instead, the hun, the po, and the intentions all take command of the heart together, like a state with three rulers contending for power. Therefore it is said: "The hun and po form three natures."

The Wood-Soul of the East (corresponding to the Wood Phase of the East) in fact gives rise to the Shen-Spirit of the South (corresponding to the Fire Phase of the South). The Metal-Po (corresponding to the Metal Phase of the West) in fact gives rise to the Jing-Essence of the North (corresponding to the Water Phase of the North). In Dan Dao, the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), jing and shen serve as the material, and jing and shen are nourished by the hun (ethereal soul) and po (corporeal soul). Hun and po are therefore the root of jing and shen, and jing and shen are the proof of xing and ming (nature and life). The Five Phases must be brought together and unified before the Dao of the Golden Elixir can be accomplished.

The Classic says: "To make one's intentions sincere, one must first extend one's knowledge; extending knowledge lies in investigating things, and through investigating things one manifests one's original nature." Therefore, the one who cultivates must first thoroughly investigate principles and fully understand his or her nature, and guard against error with strict vigilance. When the principles of nature are exhausted, the original mind naturally becomes firm and resolute, and its mastery is no longer transferred elsewhere.

At the same time, one must gather jing and shen, establish a firm resolve, and hold to it with care. Grasp the central purpose, and divide hun, po, jing, and shen into the Four Images (the four inner elements). Condense jing in order to gather po, and settle shen in order to store hun. Jing and shen are born by means of hun and po, while hun and po are gathered and governed by jing and shen. When the intention is upright and still, the Four Images converge in a secluded and profound place. This is what is meant by bringing the qi of the Five Phases together into a single qi and allowing it to coagulate, forming the Embryonic Essence (a term in Neidan practice that symbolizes qi condensed into form). Master Zhang's line, "When the two ingredients are combined, the medicine is formed; by transforming them, the soul is refined into a sage," expresses exactly this meaning.

Once hun and po have been transformed, shen naturally gathers, and my nature and disposition can then be upright and settled. Reading this chapter alongside Chapter Forty-Five above will deepen one's appreciation of its subtleties.

The above is Chapter Sixty-One. It follows the two preceding chapters and explains that exhausting the principles of things and fully understanding one's nature are essential tasks in cultivating the Dao. Only when nature is settled can one walk the path that accords with the Great Dao.

Fix the will and seek Qian and Gui (lead and mercury, symbolic terms in Dan Dao that usually refer to the yin and yang qi used in practice), and restrain the thoughts of despair in order to seek Tu and Jin (symbolic terms in Dan Dao). Only then does one know where the true key lies; and who could understand its deep and hidden mystery?

Here, "will" (zhi) refers to what one's original nature is directed toward, that is, the aspiration I have always held to.

What is called "earth and metal" means that within the stillness of pure Yin, like the Kun earth, a single trace of Qian metal qi (qian jin zhi qi) lies hidden. This is Wu earth lodged within Kun earth to form Kan water, which symbolizes the moment when a correct thought first stirs in the heart-mind. The passage continues the meaning of the previous chapter: when the nature and temperament are settled, the aspiration is also settled. From this point, one gathers the seven orifices (the senses of eye, ear, nose, and mouth) into a single point and concentrates on quiet reflection. This is the method for obtaining the Yang qi and the Yin jing (essence).

When one feels that qi and jing have arrived together, one must continue to quiet the mind until its state becomes as still as cold ashes. This is the method of seeking true intention (zhen yi) and nourishing the Shen (spirit). When shen and qi are thus concentrated and the breath is still, they all return to the true and unfailing orifice, where they naturally merge and transform and form the Golden Elixir (jin dan), the condensed state of jing, qi, and shen produced by Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation. Bai Zi says: "When the will is focused and not scattered, the shen gathers; when the mind is still and deep, the Golden Elixir forms within the body." Who can truly understand this subtle and profound learning?

The above is the sixty-second chapter. This chapter also continues the previous one, clarifying the essential secrets for establishing the root of life. Once the root of life is settled, cultivation can achieve results.

Zaohua (Creation and Transformation) has no visible root, yet Yin and Yang have their origin. These truly subtle principles are not even passed from father to son.

"Nameless" is the beginning of Heaven and Earth, and Zaohua takes it as its root; "named" is the mother of all things, and Yin-Yang takes it as its origin. This is indeed so! Yet this supremely mysterious essential secret can only be grasped by the heart and is not easily conveyed in words. Let us begin, for the moment, with the meanings of "Zaohua" and "Yin-Yang."

What is called Zaohua is the power by which Heaven alone governs life and death and gives rise to all things; it is the Dao of spontaneous action. What is called Yin-Yang is the single qi from the Wuji Yuanshi (the Primordial Beginning of Non-Polarity) from which humans and all things together take root, moving in a state of neither birth nor death, empty and natural, as the Wuwei (non-action) Dao. To produce existence from non-existence is called "creation" (zao); to return from existence to non-existence is called "transformation" (hua). This speaks from the perspective of birth and extinction. When movement reaches its extreme it turns into stillness, and when stillness reaches its extreme it turns back into movement; this is Yin-Yang, spoken of from the perspective of their continuous cyclical flow. Birth and extinction belong to form and matter, while cyclical flow belongs to spirit.

The forms of humans and all things are condensed from spirit (jingshen). Stillness belongs to Yin, and when stillness reaches its extreme it turns into movement, which belongs to Yang. This is said in terms of the cyclical transformation of Yin-Yang (yinyang). Physical forms come into being and pass away, while spirit undergoes changes of penetrating outward and returning to its source.

If the forms of humans and all things are condensed from spirit, then when a person is born, receiving Yin essence and Yang qi, spirit comes into being along with them. Is this not the root of life? Why, then, does this chapter specifically say that Wuwei (non-action) is the root and stem? It is because people do not know that they should return to the source from which life arises. The human body is formed from the natural essence-qi received from one's parents. Once a person is born and the umbilical cord is severed, it is like a root and stem falling away. The spirit that a person receives from the transformation of heaven and earth varies in quantity, and this determines the length of life. A person of wisdom may extend life somewhat, while a person without virtue shortens it. Whether one is intelligent or foolish, life is not thereby lengthened or shortened; one can only follow the allotted course of qi until its end. In the end, everyone dissolves and returns to the great furnace of creation and transformation (zaohua). For this reason, humans and all things cannot escape the fixed course of qi.

The year, month, and day of a person's birth are called the "making of destiny" (mingzao), and the year, month, and day of death are called the "transformation of destiny" (huaming). What the Treatise on Encouraging Goodness says about extending life and granting long life, or cutting life short and bringing about early death, and about death arriving when one's allotted span is exhausted, all speaks to the necessity that physical things perish and that whatever is made or fashioned must change. Therefore it is said: "Creation and transformation have no root or stem."

As for the Yin essence and Yang qi within the human body, although they too originate from the endowment of Heaven, Heaven and Earth themselves are also formed through Yin-Yang. Therefore it is said that "creation and transformation have no root or stem."

Human beings possess yin essence and yang qi, and although these too derive from the yin and yang bestowed by Heaven, Heaven and Earth themselves take on their images and forms precisely by means of yin and yang. Heaven and Earth are able to remain unbound by image and form, and do not let their material endowment burden their spirit-illumination (shenming), which is why they can generate the myriad things through yin and yang. Among the myriad things, humans are the most spiritually aware. They know how to revere the Dao (the Way) and keep to ritual propriety, emulating Heaven and taking Earth as their model, emptying the heart while filling the interior, and nourishing an inner nature that has no form. The circulation of yin and yang qi within the human body, like the single qi of Wuji Yuanshi, waxes and wanes, fills and empties, and flows through without cease at every moment, just as a fish always lives within water.

Those who do not know how to return to their origin are like someone who takes up only a ladleful of water or a handful of earth. They can play with these for only a short while before the ladle breaks and the earth scatters. The water then returns to the great sea, and the earth falls back to the ground. Those who can return to their origin on their own already stand in communion with that origin. It is like guarding this ladleful of water without clinging to the ladle's function: one will then always encounter the water's source. It is like settling this handful of earth and diligently cultivating a foundation of sincerity and benevolence: one will then always be consolidating that foundation. Persevere over a long time, and the water gathers into a lake and the earth piles up into a mountain. Gradually the lake expands until it is as vast as the sea, embracing emptiness and merging into one body with the Supreme Clarity (Taiqing), the lofty, pure and void heavenly realm. The mountain expands until it is broad and massive, becoming the earth itself, sufficient to bear Mount Hua (Huashan). All of this reveals the fundamental nature that the single ladleful of water and the single handful of earth originally possessed.

When a person accumulates essential qi (jing qi) and condenses it into spirit (shen), and concentrates the spirit on guarding the void and nourishing the vast, flowing qi (haoran zhi qi) so as to accomplish the Dao, all of this is something already present within the origin, something that can be inwardly apprehended and responded to. The phrase "the valley spirit never dies" in Laozi refers to this: it shares the same root with Heaven and Earth, and its root lies in the Mysterious Female Gate (xuanpin zhi men), the profound source from which all things are generated. Hence the saying, "Yin and yang have an origin." However, this belongs to the middle grade of teaching.

As for the superior grade of inner alchemy (shangpin danfa), it has its own essential secrets of priority and its direct essential paths, which allow one who is once triggered by them to instantly realize the Mysterious Gate (xuanguan), the crucial pass in cultivation through which one personally apprehends the Great Dao, and to obtain naturally a subtle insight and understanding. Yet what is discussed here still belongs to the middle grade.

Now for the best English rendering of this passage, following the glossary and the translation rules.

The highest class of inner alchemy cultivation has a method of its own, a critical path that comes before ordinary practice and leads straight to the essential gateway. Once a practitioner is struck by it, they can suddenly awaken to that mysterious pass. From this arise subtle insights and understanding, through which one directly experiences the purport of the first chapter of the Dao De Jing and comes to see that the human spirit (Shen) and Heaven and Earth issue from the same creative process, and share the same root in the subtle nothingness of the primordial beginning (the pre-cosmic, non-acting foundation).

Human qi (Qi), like all things, is formed by receiving Yin-Yang, and it too shares the same origin in the spiritual treasure of subtle existence (the pre-cosmic source that contains the power of generation and transformation). This practice does not demand the laborious effort of gathering a crowd and accumulating provisions. So long as one thought is utterly sincere, undivided and unwavering, sustained without pause, the work will not be interrupted, and the return to origin will come swiftly.

If one speaks of Yin and Yang only in terms of the creative process of Heaven and Earth, then Yin and Yang belong to the post-cosmic realm. In the human body, they correspond to the physical body (the flesh formed from form and post-cosmic Yin-Yang). Human lifespan is neither lengthened nor shortened: to abide in one's life and follow the right Way is what the Great Person calls "to accord with the Heavenly seasons after Heaven," that is, to conform to the sequence of the post-cosmic order and the Dao of Heaven.

Thus, when it is said that Yan Hui "did not die young," this does not mean that his physical body would never undergo birth and death, but that he was able to "constantly observe its subtlety through non-being" (chang wu yi guan qi miao), that is, he constantly perceived the wondrous quality of the Dao from its non-acting, unmanifest root. To say that Robber Zhi "did not live long" speaks of the fact that his physical body, necessarily subject to the birth and death of creation, could not do so, because he did not understand how to "constantly observe its subtlety through non-being."

If one speaks of creation from the root that governs Yin and Yang, then all creation originates in the pre-cosmic realm. In the human body, this corresponds to the Dharma body (the body that transcends the birth and death of the flesh and embodies the original source). When the life of wisdom (huiming) can restore its root and return to its origin, one can respond to the myriad things with a true and constant nature and abide in one's essential nature. This is what the Great Person calls "to accord with Heaven without opposing it, by standing on the pre-cosmic source," that is, to unite with the Dao of Heaven by grounding oneself in the pre-cosmic origin.

Beings transmigrate through the Six Paths, and even sage-kings have failed to become Tathagatas, because they let the Dharma body follow the likes and dislikes brought about by the changes of Yin and Yang, and so fail to "constantly observe its manifestations through existence" (chang you yi guan qi jiao), that is, to perceive the boundaries and functioning of the Dao from its visible appearances. That Emperor Wen passed through seventeen lifetimes of rebirth, and that Laozi manifested eighty-one times, signify that the Dharma body can accord with the movement and stillness of Yin and Yang, and therefore can "constantly observe its manifestations through existence."

Hence it is said: "The physical body depends on creation; it is governed by Heaven, not by self," because the physical body has no root to rely on, and its fate is ruled by the creative process of Heaven and Earth. "The Dharma body pervades Yin and Yang; it is governed by self, not by Heaven," because the self possesses a source through which it can penetrate Yin and Yang. One who cultivates in this way will also be protected by Heaven, and will be auspicious and advantageous in all things.

Ten thousand things under Heaven arise from Being (you), and Being in turn arises from Non-being (wu). Non-being is the root of Being, and Being is the support of Non-being. The saying that "the Fashen (Dharma body) penetrates Yin-Yang by one's own effort, not by Heaven's mandate" means that the self has its own origin, able to pass through Yin and Yang, and so Heaven and Earth will also protect and bless one with good fortune and smooth progress.

Being and non-being, motion and stillness, Yin and Yang, and the generation and transformation of all things are essentially interconnected. Given this, why should one insist on distinguishing what is being from what is non-being, what is Yin from what is Yang, or what is generation from what is transformation? One need only let the motion and stillness of the self serve as each other's root, refrain from deliberately judging good and bad, and follow the principles of nature.

The Shense (physical body) nourishes the Fashen (the true body spoken of in cultivation). When gathered, it takes form; when dispersed, it becomes Qi. The Fashen stabilizes the form: in stillness, it is refined into the Golden Elixir (Jindan), the condensed state of Jing, Qi, and Shen sought in Neidan (internal alchemy) practice; in motion, it arises like a thunderclap. In this way, where could any distinction between life and death, or survival and perishing, remain? Mencius said, "Heaven's allotment of lifespan is not uniform; to cultivate oneself and await one's destiny is to establish one's life securely." He also said, "All things are complete within me; to examine oneself and find sincerity is the greatest joy." How could any distinction between life and death, or survival and perishing, still exist here? From this one comes to understand that when a person meets everyday affairs and yet keeps the mind calm, they can be at ease and content.

Qi is like water, and Shen is like earth. Qi is what life depends upon, and Shen is where one's original nature rests. The wise delight in water and, through it, nourish their Qi; by following what is natural and not forcing or contriving, they also nourish their wisdom. The benevolent delight in mountains and, through them, steady their spirit, and so body and mind are at ease.

Qi is like water, and Shen is like earth: Qi is what life depends upon, and Shen is where one's nature rests. The wise delight in water and use it to nourish Qi. Acting in accordance with what is natural, without carving or forcing things, they thereby nourish wisdom. The benevolent delight in mountains and use them to gather Shen. Content with their proper station, sincere and humane without change, they thereby nourish a settled heart.

I will pursue the principle of dual cultivation of nature and life only this far. First, let the mind gather the Shen, and let the Shen become stable so that thoughts cease. Forget thought to nourish the body, forget the body to nourish Qi, forget Qi to nourish Shen, and forget Shen to nourish emptiness and stillness. This reaches the state of "sitting and forgetting" (zuòwàng) of Yan Zi (Yan Hui): exhausting the nature of oneself and thereby realizing the Way of life. If one can also forget even emptiness and stillness, uniting with the Dao, then Heaven will let one grow naturally until one becomes a sage. The prior-to-heaven primal life-decree will be restored, and the primal nature will return.

Once nature and life are both complete, there is no subjective conjecture, no forcing, no rigidity, and no clinging to the self. One thereby becomes one body with the single Qi of the primordial, prior-to-heaven beginning. This is what is meant by uniting with the Dao and attaining truth: penetrating past and present and enduring, standing alongside Heaven and Earth without contradiction. In motion it appears as the enduring circulation of the Taiji (the root of the transformations of all things), flowing without cease. In stillness it returns to the true unity of the Wuji (wújí, the source without differentiation, without form or image), establishing the root and remaining constant.

Since one has constancy within oneself, all the ever-changing affairs can be grasped. Since circulation is unobstructed, things that were once blocked can also be penetrated. The Northern Song Confucian Zhou Dunyi said: "The Five Phases are one Yin-Yang; Yin-Yang is one Taiji; the Taiji originates in the Wuji." The Wuji is originally without form or image, while the Taiji is the root that actually manifests. The source of creation and the root of Yin-Yang both lie here. How could a cultivator be willing to be governed by Yin-Yang and trapped within the Five Phases, merely clinging to life, fearing death, and calculating existence and nonexistence? One should directly grasp the root and comprehend the essential point, transcending the limits of creation. Only then can one be called a person who has attained the Dao.

This chapter's ideas are, in truth, subtle, and they bear on the essentials of the physical body and of life and death. Without personal realization through one's own experience, without probing the principles deeply and exhausting one's innate nature (tian xing), and without entering under a true master and verifying them in a state where the mind is clear and all thoughts are still, one cannot take charge of oneself, set the direction of practice, return to the origin and go back to the root, and finally complete the work, personally attain it, and be liberated and at ease. Even between father and son, with the closest bond, these principles cannot be passed directly from one to the other.

Thus the Seventh Patriarch of the Longmen school, Kunyang Wangzi, after speaking of "understanding life and death," wrote: "ren de zhen, lian ye zou, mi ge zhu er wu yi you; kong kong dang dang du xiu xing, bu ke bu ji tian di shou" (Once the true Way is recognized, set out that very night; seek a pillar to lean on, and there is not one to be found. Empty and spacious, cultivate alone; without thirst or hunger, your life will last as long as heaven and earth). The meaning is that once the true Way is recognized, practice begins at once. Since no support can be found in the world, one must clear away distracting thoughts and cultivate alone, reaching a state free from hunger and thirst, in which one's life endures as long as heaven and earth. This is just as the commentary to chapter twenty-two explains the "li yong zhen" (furthering through lasting correctness) of "yong liu" (the Six), and the "jian qun long wu shou ji" (seeing a host of dragons without a head is auspicious) of "yong jiu" (the Nine). The principle is exactly so.

This is the end of chapter sixty-three. Building on the previous four chapters, it selects the middle-grade elixir method (zhong pin dan fa) to clarify the rules and precepts of practice. Creation appears to have no root, yet it is governed by the source of yin and yang. Through this, the author reveals the path of probing principles and exhausting one's nature, teaches the reader to realize personally and comprehend life and death, and leads directly to the state of "miao you miao wu" (wondrous existence and wondrous non-existence), and thence to returning to the origin and going back to the root. Such realization is no different from the upper-grade elixir method (shang pin dan fa). Hence we know that Confucius's words "yuan shi ji zhong, gu zhi sheng si" (tracing beginnings to their ends, thus knowing life and death) refer to this very principle. One who attains this true wonder can respond to circumstances with flexibility.

This chapter is the essential core of the whole work, like the final touch that brings a painting to life. It also clarifies the general method of "lian cheng gu shen" (refining into the valley spirit) described in chapters forty-nine through fifty-four, and it introduces the content of the chapters that follow.

Note: The Zhouyi's Xici Zhuan contains the phrase "yuan shi ji zhong." In the commentaries of the Han Confucians, the word ji is read as "to extend to," meaning that if one traces the beginning of a thing and extends the inquiry to its end, one can understand life and death. This reading is clear in meaning, so it is adopted here.

Store the mercury in the Golden Cauldron (jinding) and send the lead into the Jade Pool (yuchi). In the practice of refining and nourishing, host and guest are not distinguished as left or right. The key lies in recognizing the "infant."

Here, "mercury" refers to shen (spirit) and "lead" refers to qi (vital energy). The "Golden Cauldron" is the Celestial Valley (tiangu) in the upper part of the body, where spirit is stored when a person is in the state of an infant. The "Jade Pool" is the Responsive Valley (yinggu) in the middle part of the body, where qi is stored. The "infant" is the yang spirit (yangshen), in which the primal destiny is restored and the Valley Spirit (gushen) first gives birth.

This passage continues from Chapter Fifty-Four and describes the changes that occur when the original life-mandate (yuanming) returns. Once the shen (spirit) has lodged in Yinggu and been sufficiently nourished, it circulates with the qi (vital energy) and returns to its original station in the Niwan Palace, where it dwells in the Celestial Valley. This is called the Valley Spirit (gushen). Shi Zi calls this change "separating the embryo" (fentai), and Bai Zi calls it "transferring the spirit and exchanging the cauldron" (yishen huanding). This is why it is said that "mercury remains in the golden cauldron." The qi also returns to its proper place, entering the Crimson Palace of Yinggu, and so it is said that "lead is brought into the jade pool." None of this is deliberate contrivance. It is a natural transfer.

Zhang Boduan's Wuzhen Pian says: "In employing them, one must divide the left and right armies; let them be the host while I am the guest." This chapter makes that meaning explicit. At this stage, the qi should be the host and the shen the guest, and there is no need to distinguish left from right. Body and mind then merge with the Dao and rest in neither birth nor death. The shen is securely stored in a hidden and secluded place and does not contrive beyond its proper role in pursuit of longevity. The qi thereby becomes abundant, and the shen remains for a time without decline. Only an infant can hold onto this pure and harmonious qi, which is why it is said: "Host and guest have no left or right; you need only recognize the infant." The yangshen (Yang Spirit) cultivated at this stage resembles a newborn child. So long as one guards the pure qi and preserves the body of pure yang as an infant does, the Yang Spirit will naturally grow and mature over time.

This is the sixty-fourth chapter. The preceding nine chapters all clarify the subtle purport of investigating principle and fully manifesting one's nature. They explain why the original life-mandate returns and the effects that arise naturally after its return. The next chapter will discuss methods of nourishment.

Yellow Matron (an image for the harmonizing of mind-spirit and qi):

The twin breasts are full and fair;

Old Ding (referring to the heart) holds one piece of compassionate heart.

Nourishing has no secret beyond this:

Within non-action (wuwei), raise the infant.

Old Ding refers to the heart. When the life-mandate returns, the methods described earlier are already in place, and nothing more needs to be done. As long as the practitioner does not insist on thinking that they are actively nourishing, they can raise the infant within non-action.

Master Ding points out that the timing and method for repairing the life-mechanism were discussed in the previous chapter; once the arrangements are in place, nothing further needs to be done deliberately. So long as the practitioner does not cling to "achieving something," they should continue to nourish the formless spirit (shen without phenomenal appearance, a spirit that clings to no image and has no visible form), concentrate on keeping stillness, and quietly sustain the lead and mercury (symbolic terms from internal alchemy practice). Qi will then circulate on its own and nourish the spirit-chamber (the inner place where the spirit is cultivated).

This is like a mother nursing an infant: she lets the child suckle at will, her heart full of tender and tranquil love. The practitioner who follows the movement of qi, attending to and nourishing it at every moment, will find the whole body becoming warm and supple. The inner vitality of the infant grows naturally, and no other method is required. "Non-being within" means that the center is not something the self forcibly creates.

The Diamond Sutra says, "Those who seek me in form, or seek me in sound, are walking the wrong path." One should instead employ the method of "the Bodhisattva of Perceiving Freedom" (Guanzizai): forget the form and the breath, and nourish the spirit that cannot be grasped and cannot be fully spoken of.

Chapter Sixty-Five continues from the previous chapter and explains the fire-timing (huohou) during warming and nourishing. The essential key to this warming is only to forget the form; this is the method for nurturing the valley spirit (the inner spirit spoken of in Daoism).

The mind-intent moves like a blue phoenix passing through a deep and secluded realm; within the dantian, the Jade Toad (an image for the inner elixir) is kept and nourished. Inside the pot-vessel (a symbol for the inner furnace or the heaven and earth within the body), there seems to be no night, and white snow falls in fine, scattered flakes.

"Jiangque" (the Crimson Gate) refers to the Crimson Palace (jianggong) within the Upper Dantian. "Qingfeng xiang" (the azure phoenix soars) is a metaphor for qi arising and circulating naturally from the original Crimson Palace, like a phoenix in flight. The Yinfu Jing says "qin zhi zai qi" (the birds are in the qi), so the phoenix symbolizes qi. The Shiming equates "qing" (azure) with "sheng" (to be born, to grow), so the azure phoenix also symbolizes newborn qi.

Here "dantian" refers to the Upper Dantian, which is the Niwan Palace of the Heavenly Valley (tiangu niwan gong). "Yuchan" (jade toad) refers to the yang shen (the yuanshen, or primal spirit, of cultivation practice) dwelling in the valley. After gentle nourishment it is no longer cold as it was when newly born, but warm and lustrous like jade. "Baixue" (white snow) is a metaphor for qi reaching the Upper Dantian, where it unites with shen and transforms into shenshui (spirit water). This spirit water is clear and luminous and fills the body, like white snow.

At this stage the yang shen gradually grows stronger and must not be stirred. One should remain still and nourish it gently, without deliberate intervention, and allow the qi to circulate on its own. Like an azure phoenix soaring upward, the qi rises to the Niwan Palace to nourish the yang shen. Shen and qi unite and become spirit water, falling like fine snow and filling the whole body. The practitioner feels only that the whole body is serene, harmonious, bright, and still, like a sky without night.

This is the sixty-sixth chapter. It describes the scene of allowing qi to circulate naturally during nourishment, and it points out that this is the true method of nourishing life. Among the various minor methods described in the Cuixu Yin, a person of clear mind and bright eyes will be able to judge for themselves which is superior.

Once the qinse (zither and lute) are in harmony and yin and yang have united, the work of inheriting the cultivation is complete. There is no need to apply huohou (the timing of fire, the methods for regulating the course of refinement), lest the infant (the yang shen still being nourished) be harmed.

At this stage, nourishing the primal spirit (yuanshen) differs from the fire-timing (huohou) used earlier when refining the valley spirit (gushen). The valley spirit has already joined with the vital life-breath (mingqi), like the qin and se playing in harmony, so one need only let the Qi move on its own. The yang spirit (yangshen) has grown strong, cultivation is nearly complete, and it is no longer pulled by the likes and dislikes of emotional consciousness (qingshi). If one still uses the mind-fire (xinhuo) to deliberately regulate, one will tire the spirit and injure the Qi. The Qi will then be unable to fill the empty stillness, and the spirit will be unable to become full and complete. When, then, will cultivation be finished? Such effort would instead harm the yang spirit. Therefore one must fully let go of body and mind, settle the spirit into quiet tranquility, and let the Qi circulate naturally, and it will become full on its own. One must never again deliberately investigate or grasp the fire-timing.

The above is the sixty-seventh chapter, which teaches that during nourishment one should let go of body and mind, quiet the spirit, let the Qi move naturally so that it fills itself, and not pursue the fire-timing deliberately.

The way of nourishment lies in not forcing things. Earlier, one fully develops one's inborn nature (xing) in order to reach the cultivation of life (ming), that is, the dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu). At this point, however, one should be content with one's allotted destiny and accord with one's nature, so as to return to the origin.

The Eldest Son (Zhen, the Arousing trigram of the Bagua) has just entered the position of Dui, while the Youngest Daughter (Dui) has returned to the position of Qian. The Xun palace (one of the directional positions of the Bagua) joins with the earth position, so the orifices close of their own accord, and the microcosmic orbit (zhoutian) is thereby completed.

"Eldest son" (the Zhen hexagram, symbolizing newly emerging yang qi) refers to yang qi that has only just begun to sprout. "Youngest daughter" (the Dui hexagram, symbolizing yang qi that is gradually strengthening) refers to yang qi that has already grown substantial. Moving from the Dui hexagram to the pure yang Qian hexagram follows the positions and lines of the Xiantian Bagua (Earlier Heaven Eight Trigrams). When yang qi first emerges, it is like the Zhen hexagram, with a single yang line. As it grows to two yang lines, it resembles Dui. When it grows to three yang lines, it becomes the pure yang Qian hexagram. The phrases "just entering" and "immediately returning" describe how quickly the Yang Shen (yang spirit, the spirit condensed through cultivation) matures.

"Xun palace" refers to the nasal passages, and "earthly position" refers to the physical body. The word bing, meaning "together" or "also," refers to the Gen and Kun palaces discussed in the preceding chapter forty-nine. According to the hexagram images, one yin line forms Xun, two yin lines form Gen, and three yin lines form Kun. Kun belongs to the Earth phase of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), which is why it is called the "earthly position."

The passage describes how, from the moment a person's disposition is settled and the root of life is restored, the Yang Shen first resembles the single yang line of Zhen. It dwells in the "Heavenly Valley" (Tiangu, a Neidan (internal alchemy) term for the seat of the spirit in the head) and allows the breath to move naturally. The body then gradually grows strong, like the two yang lines of Dui, and soon yang qi is abundant enough to reach the pure state of Qian, so the Yang Shen settles into the body. The breath begins with the single yin line of Xun and then returns to the stillness and quiet of Gen. Jing (essence) gathers and is stored away, the inner goodness is held within, and it spreads through the four limbs until it reaches its fullest measure of goodness. When the Yang Shen can condense, it grows ever stronger, and when the breath can become still, it grows ever more full. This is how it should naturally be. The two develop in correspondence, so neither side becomes excessive.

However, the blood and qi formed in the womb (the innate qi of body and mind) have not yet been fully transformed away. If one does not guard them strictly and keep them deeply concealed in quiet nourishment, they may still tend toward movement and fail to rest in stillness. Whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down, one should attend to whether the breath is smooth and even. If the nasal breath audibly sounds and the body is also busy and fatigued, the qi will stir the mind and cause the Shen (spirit-consciousness) to scatter constantly outward. This is called "leaking through the gates" (tòuguān lòuqì), the loss and dissipation of breath. Even if accomplishment is later attained, the fruit of the Dao (Dàoguǒ) will be lopsided and incomplete, because at this stage the qi exceeds the Shen. Therefore, the true breath must be made long and unhurried, the body relaxed and at ease, and the countenance gentle and pleased. One should follow the circulation of the Six Qi (the qi that moves and transforms throughout heaven and earth) and accord with the rhythm of the Zhoutian (the cyclical circulation of qi). In this way, the qi naturally gathers inward, neither excessive nor leaking away. This is the proper way to nourish the vast, flowing qi (hàorán zhī qì).

Chapter sixty-eight says: when nourishment gradually reaches its vigorous peak, one should not force any action. One need only regulate with measure and guard with care, so that the qi is abundant without overflowing.

"Behind the half-moon's waxing, before its waning, at the time of full and new moon. Draw off and add, shaped by punishment and virtue; bathe, and regulate by fullness and waning."

"Behind the half-moon's waxing and before its waning" uses the phases of the moon as a metaphor for the rise and fall of qi. "Full and new moon" refers to the fullness and deficiency of breath and temperament. "Punishment" (xíng) symbolizes firm, forceful regulation, and "virtue" (dé) symbolizes gentle, yielding compliance. The meaning is that when the spirit and qi are vigorous and abundant, the vast, flowing qi already fills heaven and earth. It should be neither allowed to surge unchecked nor suppressed excessively. One should, according to whether the qi is full or deficient, appropriately draw off or supplement it, and adjust it through the balanced application of firmness and gentleness, so that the upright qi remains harmonious and unobstructed, nourished as if bathed. In this way, the body becomes comfortable, spacious, and at peace, awaiting the innate primordial yang (xiāntiān yuányáng) to correspond with the season of summer and then return to its origin.

In sum, the more vigorous the qi, the more the Shen should withdraw and stay inwardly guarded. One must not let the consciousness be held captive by the qi, so that the Yang Shen (the pure-yang spirit-consciousness of cultivation) can naturally attain completion.

"Old mercury, three catties of white; true lead, one spot of red. Seize from them the marrow of heaven and earth; couple them for a single moment." This means that during refining and nourishing, the shen (spirit) and qi should be full and pure, and the yin and yang qi should join in a brief moment of union.

"Old mercury" refers to jing (essence), qi, and shen taken together as a single whole. "Three catties" indicates that all three are abundant and complete, and "white" signifies purity and wholeness, free of any contamination.

"True lead" refers to the single point of unformed primordial yang qi of Wuji (the Limitless) that is innately present within one's own Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), the fundamental state from which all things arise. This is what is called the primordial nature (yuanxing). It has no form and no color. The phrase "one point" stresses that it is a pure and unified whole rather than a drop of something tangible. "Red" borrows Zhang Zi's description of the transformation "from black to red" to depict its change.

The constant Dao that people receive is rooted in their innate nature (xingxing). This nature is bestowed by Heaven, and when it descends into the person it becomes the original mind (benxin). In the correspondence of the Five Phases with colors, the heart is associated with red. The original nature that cultivation returns to is the source of Heaven and Earth, and it originally belonged to Wuji (Limitless). Wuji gave rise to Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), and through this Taiji became the root of the mind.

The realm where the Grand Perfected Supreme Thearch of the Great Clarity resides is called the Palace of the Great Red Heaven. Earlier Daoist practitioners often called the innate primal nature that a person originally possesses the Golden Elixir (Jindan), and they honored this returned primal nature with the title "True Person of Primordial Taiji, Dao and De." The "honoring of virtuous nature" (zun dexing) in the Doctrine of the Mean refers to reverence for this original primal nature, not to the temperamental nature (qizhi zhi xing) shaped by acquired endowment.

Here the text says "red" rather than "scarlet," because the lead obtained earlier has, after undergoing the action of water and fire, already taken on a purple hue. At this point the three treasures within the body have been refined to the pure white of primordial substance (taisu). When one then obtains the true lead of the Great Red, and it unites and congeals with the white, the two intermingle to form red. What is called the "marrow of Heaven and Earth" refers precisely to this true lead. At this stage, Shen (spirit), Qi (vital energy), and Jing (essence) are all abundant and pure, and they may serve as "old mercury." If the work of nourishing (wenyang) is sufficient, and the true lead condenses into red all at once, the result is called the "Golden Liquor Returning Elixir" (jinye huandan). Here "nourishing" refers to the sustained regulation and cultivation of body and mind, and "Golden Liquor Returning Elixir" is the designation, within Neidan (internal alchemy), for the stage in which the elixir coalesces and one returns to the origin.

At this point, the Yangshen (Yang Spirit; the manifested state of the Yuanshen, or Original Spirit, spoken of in cultivation) within the body need only be quietly and carefully stabilized, allowing the qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth to circulate naturally. When the qi mechanism has circulated fully, it too becomes still and no longer stirs. Bai Zi said: “Make the mind-spirit tranquil and concentrated, reach emptiness and keep to stillness; in a state of empty stillness, light will arise.” This is indeed a natural outcome.

Afterward, the body feels firm as a high mountain, standing towering and steady. Suddenly, a point of True Lead (Zhenqian; a Neidan term for the key jingqi in cultivation) emerges from deep within and illuminates the Chiming Heaven (a symbol of the realm of brightness). This is the essence of heaven and earth, and that on which my original nature (yuanxing) relies for manifestation. Even if the earth overturns and the sky shakes, it charges straight into primordial chaos; my mind-spirit thereby becomes utterly unknowing, like one deep in sleep. After a moment, I suddenly feel clear in spirit and fresh in qi, the body hot as fire, while the mind is cool and comfortable like melting ice and snow.

If we speak of continuing cultivation, at this stage one must still blend and refine the various qi mechanisms; if we speak of the effects of cultivation, then the light of nature (xingguang) shines universally, one can perceive the subtle and hidden, hear the nine heavens with the ears and see ten thousand li with the eyes, the whole body is filled with pure Yang qi, and the sinews and bones are like gold and jade. This is the manifestation of the Yangshen, which can go out and in freely. As for the way of long life, at this point it seems already complete.

But within the Yang there may still be Yin mixed in, and in the mind there remains the notion of the void of heaven and earth; therefore there are still distinctions of coming and going, appearing and hiding, and one cannot yet roam with the power that creates and transforms the myriad things, nor master the changes of the ending and beginning of all things. To accomplish this, one must take the former state of primordial chaos and the myriad things now manifested and join and refine them together, refining the Great Return Elixir of Golden Liquid (Jinye Da Huan Dan); this step appears unavoidable.

Chapter Seventy: This chapter discusses that the Yangshen has already formed and is exactly at the time when the Yuanshen is initially unified.

The word “seize” (duo) in this chapter has the same meaning as “stealing the mechanism” (dao ji) spoken of in the Yinfu Jing (Classic of the Hidden Talisman). The Zuo Zhuan quotes the Junzhi (Military Records): “The one who acts first seizes the mind of the other.” This means that in employing troops, speed is valued: one must take advantage before the opponent’s mind-mechanism has been activated and first seize the crucial advantage. Here, in discussing cultivation, it is likewise necessary to rely on the power of spirit-intent, and before one’s own mind-mechanism has been activated, first grasp the crux of Yin-Yang transformation. What is called the “marrow of heaven and earth” is precisely the pivotal essence of Yin-Yang transformation.

Mastering the fire timing (huohou, the grasp of the right timing and measure in nourishing practice within neidan, or internal alchemy) depends on speed: one must seize the crux of the matter before the mind's thoughts have stirred. This passage concerns methods of self-cultivation, and its emphasis lies in decisiveness and force. Before one's mind begins to move, one should grasp the pivot of the transformations of Yin-Yang. What is called the "marrow of Heaven and Earth" is precisely the key to these transformations.

Where the profound subtleties of the fire timing are fully penetrated, who in past and present has been willing to transmit them? If one does not yet understand how to gather the medicinals (the essence and qi gathered in practice as the material resources of cultivation), why should one first ask about the zhoutian huohou (the cycles and sequence of the circulation of inner qi)?

"Xuan" means Heaven. This means that one's original nature (yuanxing, the innate true nature) has already been restored, and the yang spirit (the spiritual body formed through cultivation) has been completed, so there is no longer any fire timing to be applied within the body; the fire timing lies only in the place where it reaches the Dao of Heaven. Since antiquity, who has been willing to reveal the secrets of this clearly? It is only because few in the world can truly return life and nature to their origin, and few possess the wisdom and strength to seek this Way. Since one does not yet know how to gather the medicinals for the Great Returning Elixir of the Golden Liquid (the advanced elixir method of neidan), there is no need to press further into the zhoutian huohou.

This is Chapter Seventy-One. It follows from the meaning of the character duo (to seize) in the previous chapter and begins to reveal the first threads of the fire timing.

Clouds and mist disperse, and crabapple blossoms glow in the moonlight; spring is at its height, and willows yield to the spring breeze. Who can understand what this means? Lifting my head, I gaze into the void and ask.

The commentary says: At this point one has the central primordial qi of the Taiji (the original qi in the midst of the Supreme Ultimate, before Yin and Yang have separated) as one's root, and the fire timing lies only in forgetting illusion and merging with the Dao. All spirit and qi are entrusted to a state of selflessness. Therefore, when the poem says that clouds scatter and the moon appears over the crabapple, it seems to liken the spirit becoming clear and luminous, reaching a state without sound or smell. When it says that deep spring winds brush the willows, it seems to liken the breath becoming harmonious and smooth, reaching a state without trace.

Practitioners should bring these realizations into their own nature and their bodily and mental states. The first line describes the "centre" (zhong) before joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure have stirred, while the second describes the "harmony" (he) in which emotions, once stirred, all accord with measure. In terms of the functions they symbolize, the first line corresponds to the Three Universal Virtues of ancient teaching, meaning that the innate knowing I possess is shared by all people. The second corresponds to the Five Universal Relations (the five basic ethical bonds among people), meaning that the innate ability I possess is one that everyone can put into practice.

The Zhoutian huohou (the rules for circulating qi through the cosmic circuit and regulating the fire-timing in internal alchemy) is subtle, but the text has not yet explained how to apply it in practice. The first sentence therefore draws on the "three virtues" (wisdom, benevolence, and courage) to show that people inherently possess liangzhi (innate moral knowing), which everyone shares. The second sentence draws on the "five constant relationships" (the constant bonds between ruler and minister, father and son, husband and wife, elder and younger brother, and friends) to show that people inherently have the capacity to follow the Dao, which everyone can practice.

Still, the passage does not address where to begin or how to concentrate and advance steadily. Why does the text next say "the eyes question the empty void"? This requires the practitioner to experience it personally and realize it for themselves. A single principle pervades all things, and one must ultimately verify through direct experience the liangzhi of the original mind. In this way, when one acts, one accords with the human nature shared by all, and when one is still, one accords with the original state of Heaven's mandate. By constantly nurturing this unified state of mind, one becomes clear and understanding wherever one is. Only then does one know that shen (spirit) and qi have long been fused within the mind's perception, and that even their traces dissolve into the void.

Why is this so? The movement and stillness of qi change according to shen, so shen precedes qi. The rising or hiding of shen is governed by the heart-mind, so the heart-mind precedes shen. And the first stirring of the heart-mind arises in the eyes, so the eyes are in fact the first sign of the heart-mind's activity. The Yinfu Jing (Classic of the Hidden Accord) says: "The heart is born of things and dies through things; the trigger lies in the eyes." From this we can see that the eyes are the key to the heart-mind's stirring and the first point of effort in regulating shen and qi. When the gaze runs outward in pursuit of things, the heart-mind scatters, the flow of qi is obstructed, and shen dissipates. When the eyes are clear and turn inward to illuminate, the heart-mind becomes lucid, shen gathers, and qi grows abundant. If the eyes become like empty space, not clinging to things, the heart-mind can return to the origin of all things without stopping anywhere, and shen and qi will become clear and tranquil.

When cultivation reaches a stillness in which even the thought of "stillness" no longer arises, one understands that the ten directions and the three realms (in Buddhist terms, all directions and worlds) do not go beyond a single mind, and that past and future are also not separate from the self. The past was never originally arisen, and the present does not perish. The past was never originally diminished, and the present does not increase. This state is simply as it is. Who, then, could truly comprehend it?

Once, because of this principle, I went to my teacher's dwelling in Taixu (the Great Void) to ask about it. At the time my teacher was reciting the Wuzi Guanyin Jing (the Scripture of Guanyin Without Words, a Guanyin scripture that takes the absence of words as its method), and said: "The first line is a finger pointing at the moon, and one must not mistake the finger for the moon. The second line is like a banner in the wind, and one must not mistake the banner for the wind. Only after thunder and rain fill the body does a realm of clear breezes and bright moonlight open up."

"Regarding the word san (scatter) in the first line, its meaning is close to: 'Simply sit at ease at the edge of the sky, and do not bother to look back at the low-hanging white clouds.' Shen (spirit) is the embodiment of xing (nature) and ming (life-destiny). How could one cling to a metaphor and treat it as shen? Regarding the word shen (deep) in the second line, its meaning is close to: 'Without intending it, one recognizes the face of the spring breeze, and before one's eyes the flowers are a riot of colors, with spring everywhere.' Qi (vital energy) is the embodiment of ming and xing. How could one stubbornly cling to a metaphor and treat it as qi?"

My teacher Niwan (the Mud Pellet, a name for the cranial center of consciousness) once left a daoji (a verse composed by a Daoist practitioner), which reads: "Willows dance with the bright moon, and crabapples bloom lovelier in the gentle breeze." It also says: "When the mist and clouds of the heavens have all dispersed, every household can see the moon; when the spirit of spring arrives on the earth, flowers bloom everywhere." This is exactly the clear, expansive light of heaven, like a boundless mirror that contains and reflects one another, its edges impossible to fathom.

"If you only hold fast to sincerity and to cultivation that is careful and quiet, and let ding (stillness) and hui (wisdom) observe together on equal terms, you will naturally move from sincerity to clarity. Once the clear nature is no longer dim, you can fully realize the nature that heaven has bestowed, and bring xing and ming into union at their origin. Then what emptiness is there left to forget? When you observe the myriad things and they naturally accord with the Dao, you will be able to unite with the Dao in truth and preserve, for a long time, the fine state of empty and unobstructed true emptiness."

At this, I bowed my head and offered praise: "I dwell within the Great Void, luminous and clear, with not a single thing. To be at ease is to be true and natural, and the clear breeze brushes against the vast bright moon."

This is the orthodox essence of the Great Vehicle (Dacheng), the Dao (the Way) of empty stillness and subtle mystery. Had I not accumulated this practice over many years, held to it with sincerity, and recited it without interruption, how could I have grasped even these half-sentences of the key oral instructions? My teacher then confirmed their authenticity through the seal of the Void Storehouse (Xukong Zang). Even if one traveled to the ends of the earth, who would understand their meaning?

A note on the phrase "thunder and rain stir and fill" (leiyu zhi dong man ying) in the Tuanci (Commentary on the Judgment) of the hexagram Zhun (Difficulty at the Beginning) in the Yijing (Book of Changes): in the commentaries of the Han Confucian scholars, the character meaning "full," pronounced ying, was written with the character pronounced xing, meaning "form." Here the xing reading is adopted, referring to the abstract image formed by the second, third, and fourth lines of the hexagram Zhun. Earlier masters of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school all explained the passage through this reading, and it is still followed today.

This is the seventy-second chapter. It follows the two chapters before it and points out the huohou (fire-timing) that leads to penetrating the mysterious Dao, that is, the crucial moment when one unites with the yuanqi (primordial qi). By comparing it with the oral instructions transmitted by Scholar Lü in Niwan (Mud Pellet) Cuixu Yin (Chant of the Azure Void), one can understand more clearly how the wondrous body and wondrous function of the Dao are both vast and subtle. Thereby one perceives the true realm of the Great Void, whose wonder is difficult to put into words.

Worldly entanglements have already been cleared away, and the stairway of the heavenly immortals is within sight. Though one already understands the way of riding the clouds, one must still wait for white cranes to come and accompany him.

This means that once the oral instructions are received, cultivation becomes direct and clear, like ore fully refined into pure gold, with the smoke dispersed and the furnace fire extinguished. The mind embraces the myriad phenomena yet holds not a single trace of attachment. Worldly affairs no longer entangle the practitioner, and the path to immortality now has its proper boundaries. Yet the practitioner should not presume to be able to ride the clouds and ascend already. Instead, he should wait cautiously for the cranes to come and welcome him, and only then rise into the heavens. The teaching warns people not to treat supernatural powers such as appearing and vanishing, or moving between the hidden and the manifest, as their accomplishments. So long as one cultivates in accordance with the Dao, transformation and ascension will naturally be attained.

This is the seventy-third chapter. It follows the previous chapter: after the fire-timing has been explained, it moves on to the realm of appearing and vanishing that follows the completion of the elixir.

The field of the heart (xintian), meaning the inner mind, is free of weedy, defiled thoughts, and the ground of nature (xingdi), meaning the original nature, is not stained with dust. In the deep quiet of night, when the moonlight is bright, suddenly comes the call of a single spring bird.

On a quiet, deep night with a bright moon, what is described is the appearance and disappearance of Wuji (the Ultimate of Non-Being) and Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) in turn. This is a metaphor for stillness reaching its extreme, the first moment of movement, when the pure yang spirit (chunyang zhishen) unites with primal qi (yuanqi). When a spring bird suddenly calls out, it symbolizes a single genuine stirring of life arising within Wuji.

When the cultivator enters a state of seclusion and single-minded focus, cultivating both concentration (ding) and wisdom (hui) and observing all things with equal awareness, the mind-nature naturally becomes clear and pure. Yet the practitioner can still conceal their brilliance and blend into ordinary society. They may possess the Dao without appearing to possess it, and possess De (Virtue) without displaying it, with outward conduct no different from that of ordinary people. They guide others according to circumstances and benefit all beings in various ways. Even when they personally enter the marketplace and move among both the pure and the defiled, they respond with ease. Once merit is complete and cultivation is mature, a single genuine spark of life arises naturally from Wuji. This is the essence of the Two and Five of Heaven (erwu zhi jing), the gold produced by Tianyi (the One of Heaven). Zhou Dunyi of the Northern Song called it "the true essence of Wuji," and Chen Niwan called it "a cup of primordial wine" (hongmeng jiu). If the cultivator can refine and take this substance, they can transcend the transformations of Yin-Yang and no longer be bound by the Five Phases.

Chapter Seventy-Four discusses the method of nourishing the primordial spirit (yuanshen), that is, guarding and cherishing the original spirit during cultivation.

"Bai jin peng liu gua, hei xi guo Lan guan. Ban ye san geng li, jin wu ru Guang han." ("White metal cooks the six trigrams; black tin passes the Lan Pass. In the dead of night, the golden crow enters the Cold Palace.")

"White metal" refers to a primordial spirit that has become pure and unmixed, like the state of the golden fluid (jinye) on its first return. The six trigrams are Zhen, Dui, Qian, Xun, Gen, and Kun. They symbolize the six circulations of vital energy, flowing without cease and together forming a single Taiji. "Cooking" here means quiet non-action, not forcing the mind to dominate.

"Black tin" is lead. It is a metaphor for the yang spirit, which, under the guardianship of the primordial spirit, has become supremely gentle and pliant, like lead and tin awaiting transformation. The "Three Passes" (sanguan) refer to the process of refining the essence (jing), the primal qi, and the primordial spirit so that each transforms in turn and returns to emptiness. At this stage, all three kinds of "lead" have been refined.

"In the dead of night, the golden crow enters the Cold Palace" describes the transformation of Yin and Yang and the storing of the Golden Elixir (jindan) within.

"Sangeng banye" (the dead of night) figuratively describes the moment when the Yuanshi zhenji (primordial true mechanism) within Wuji (the undifferentiated, formless origin) is about to stir. This is the realm of the still night and bright moon mentioned earlier. The "golden crow" (jinwu) draws on the image of the three-legged crow. In the heavens it symbolizes the spirit-essence of the sun, and here it refers to the Yuanshi zhenji, which is the "spring bird" of the earlier passage. The earlier text says only that the practitioner has heard of this level, whereas this passage goes further to speak of "yuanjue" (conditioned awakening), a realm entered through dependent arising and insight. "Guanghan" (the Cold Palace of the Moon) symbolizes Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate).

When the cultivation and nourishing reach completion, the Yuanxing (primal nature) already contains the Six Qi (the changing vapors of yin and yang, wind and rain, dark and light) and circulates without cease, arriving at a state of emptiness, stillness, and wuwei (non-action). The Yuanming (primal life-destiny) has also passed through the Three Passes and reached its utmost limit, leaving no further path to follow. At this point a single thread of true mechanism stirs naturally within Wuji. This is the subtle Yuanshi yiqi (primordial One Qi) within the body, beginning to circulate again and merging with the Yuanshen (primal spirit, the original spiritual essence of a person). This is called "jinye dahuan" (the Great Return of the Golden Fluid). Afterward the Zhenyuan (true primal energy) bursts forth, and only then does the practitioner become a "Miaodao zhenren" (Perfected Person of the Wondrous Way).

Fundamentally, "jinwu" refers to one's own Yuanxing stirring anew after extreme stillness. "Guanghan" refers to the true mechanism arising naturally within the Yuanxing, namely the Yuanshi yiqi circulating again and merging with the Yuanshen to accomplish the "jinye dahuan." The Zhenyuan then bursts forth, and the practitioner reaches the state of the "Miaodao zhenren."

The "Golden Crow" (jinwu, a golden crow often used as a metaphor for the sun) refers to the original nature (yuanxing, the innate true nature of a person) stirring again after it has reached the utmost stillness. The "Guanghan Palace" (Guanghan, the palace of the moon, here used as a metaphor for the moon) refers to the original life-decree (yuanming, the fundamental life of a person) following the stirring of the original nature and naturally joining with it. This is like the sun and moon uniting as a pair, symbolizing the union of nature (xing) and life (ming) into one. As my teacher said, this is the Way of Heyuan (union with the Origin). It is not some other external true mechanism, nor something that can be cobbled together through calculation. It is the marvelous Dao of emptiness, stillness, non-action (wuwei), and spontaneous naturalness. One who attains this Way becomes a true being, called a Perfected of Wondrous Dao (Miaodao Zhenren). Such a person can engage with the world to practice the Dao, or withdraw from the world to cultivate.

This state is profound and unfathomable, and it is difficult to compare it to a lion or a divine dragon. It is like the passage in the Book of Changes (Zhouyi) in which King Wen of Zhou, explaining the "Use of Nine" line of the Qian hexagram, says "one sees a group of dragons without a head," symbolizing dragons that each display their virtue without claiming to lead, which was regarded as an auspicious sign. What is described here is "refining emptiness and uniting with the Dao" (lianxu hedao): nature and life return to emptiness and merge into the undifferentiated Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), and thereby endure. Yet after one has initially obtained the ancestral source of the Dao of heaven and earth, one must still continue to unite with the Dao and become true, in order to ensure that one never falls back.

○ The above is Chapter Seventy-Five, which concerns the moment when the Primal Spirit (yuanshen) unites with the Dao.

Once the elixir is matured, the signs of the Dragon and Tiger disappear; when the furnace fire has refined to its end, mercury and lead are also unified into one. After sloughing off the embryo (tuotai), the practitioner has completed spiritual transformation (shenhua) and advances further to become an Immortal of Jade Clarity (Yuqing xian), a perfected being who dwells in the realm of Jade Clarity.

"Dan" (elixir) refers to the True Person's (Zhenren) original substance, and "Huo" (fire) refers to the True Person's mind. "Yuqing" (Jade Clarity) is the supreme sacred realm where Yuanshi Tianzun (the Primordial Celestial Venerable) dwells. Continuing from the previous chapter, this passage explains that after refining emptiness and merging with the Dao (lianxu hedao), one has not yet reached the stage of achieving true union with the Dao (dao hezhen).

To truly unite with the Dao, the True Person must release even the attachment to their own substance as body and mind, to stillness and tranquility, and to notions of wisdom. Their mind must also stop distinguishing between Yin and Yang and between Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). What is required is only to fulfill the Way of utmost sincerity (zhicheng zhi dao), practicing with reverence, perseverance, and without interruption. If the mind holds no deliberate intention, there is no need to nourish substance through emptiness. If the mind seeks nothing, there is no need to stop thoughts by refining hexagram images. If one does not cling to the body, there is no need to secure the self by penetrating the passes and refining the form (tongguan lianxing). If one responds to external things without self-attachment, there is no need to manage affairs by holding onto thoughts.

In this state, the ten directions and the three realms (shifang sanjie) are not separated from one place, and past and present are not separated from a single original substance. The cultivation attainments of the Pratyekabuddhas (Yuanjue) and the Shravakas (Shengwen) become clear and pure, like ice and snow melting away. The practitioner can appear or disappear according to conditions and use their abilities freely. With a pure and quiet mind, they raise great vows and are no longer bound by the qi of lead and mercury (qian gong zhi qi). They can then join with the transforming processes of Heaven and Earth. Truth and falsehood dissolve together, and existence and non-existence are no longer set apart. Only when this stage is reached can one be said to have truly united with the Dao. One can then shed the womb (tuotai) and become a spirit, ascend to Yuqing, and remain forever as a Da Luo immortal (Daluo Xianren). The Dao they transmit to later generations earns them the honor of a sage master of their era. This is the moment the Golden Liquor Great Returning Elixir (Jinye Dahuandan) is completed.

○ The above is Chapter Seventy-Six, which discusses the completion of the elixir, transformation, and union with the Dao.

"Block the road to the Yellow Springs (Huangquan), break open the gate of the Purple Mansion (Zifu). How does Haishanzi transform into a crane and emerge from the Niwan (Mud Pellet Palace)?"

"Huangquan" refers to the road of the afterlife in the netherworld after death. "Zifu" refers to the immortal mansion described in Daoist tradition, which is also associated with Donghua Qingtong Mugong (Donghua Dijun, the Lord of the Eastern Flowery Radiance). The verse means that the cultivator cuts off the road leading to death and opens the gate leading to the Purple Mansion. The question of how Haishanzi transforms into a crane and emerges from the Niwan captures the scene of elixir completion, transformation, and union with the Dao.

Purple Mansion (Zifu) is the immortal palace where the Eastern Florescence Qingtong Mu Gong resides; "Daojun" refers to the great master of the Complete Perfection (Quanzhen) school. The Purple Mansion of the Eastern Florescence is where the Lord of the Lesser Yang selects immortals. Practitioners must wait until the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is completed, the body is transformed and the spirit is reborn, and one unites with the Dao in its truth. Only then is the path to the Yellow Springs fully severed, so that one no longer undergoes rebirth and ascends directly to the gate of the Dao Ancestor to await selection. In this way, one may receive a rank in the heavenly realm above, and become a master for an entire generation below.

The preceding passage uses the cold toad to represent the Valley Spirit (Gushen) brought to completion, and the jade toad to represent the Yang Spirit (Yangshen) growing strong. Here the sea toad is used to represent the Primal Spirit (Yuanshen), which has received the enlightening touch of the true mechanism within the Wuji (the substance of the Great Dao). It then emerges through the Niwan Palace (the cultivation site in the head) and ascends like a crane. Using the crane to symbolize the Perfected (zhenren) means that the cultivator becomes like a toad transformed into a crane; it does not refer to Master Liu Haichan, the founding patriarch of the Southern School.

Chapter Seventy-Seven concerns the body's transformation into spirit and audience with the Dao Ancestor, that is, the attainment of realization and the achievement of perfection.

Where do the rivers and seas ultimately return, and to whom do the mountains and cliffs belong? Once the Golden Elixir has ripened, all of these are no more than treasures within one's own house.

The method of the Great Returning Elixir of Golden Liquid (Jinye Dahuan Dan) has been explained repeatedly throughout the work, yet there remains concern that people who read it will merely understand it without being willing to practice it, and even if willing, will be unable to find enjoyment in it. On investigation, the cause lies in attachment to worldly passions and desires, which prevents the arising of firm right mindfulness needed to cultivate body and mind and lay a solid foundation. For this reason, this chapter has been written specially: once the Golden Elixir has ripened, the practitioner becomes one with the Great Void (taixu), the vast and boundless emptiness. The rivers, seas, mountains and cliffs of the world may all be relinquished, and in the end they too become treasures belonging to oneself. The term "rivers and mountains" (jiangshan) also summarizes everything subtler than rivers and mountains. The teaching is to let go of all manner of worldly concerns and to concentrate on a single thought, so that one naturally walks the path of cultivating the Perfected, enters the Dao without obstruction from demonic hindrances, and ultimately succeeds without fail, and is able to save the people of the world. Otherwise, when impermanence (wuchang) arrives, nothing can be taken away; only karmic force follows. Even then, regret will come too late.

Chapter Seventy-Eight aims to stir up right mindfulness in people, and therefore it says that once the Golden Elixir is completed, one becomes one with Heaven, and the mountains, rivers and the whole earth are all like one's own treasures. The ancients said: "The vast eight directions of Heaven and Earth are all within my gate." This is no empty claim.

Lü Dongbin (Chunyang Dijun, an immortal of Daoism) received the oral formulas from Zhongli Quan (Zhengyang Dijun), and Ge Xianweng (Ge Xiaoxian) transmitted the methods of the mind to the Perfected Zheng Siyuan. Since antiquity, the oral formulas transmitted by immortals and perfected beings have contained nothing else; in the end, they all concern the Way of "mercury and lead" (gǒng qiān). Practitioners need not credit the teachings of heterodox schools, nor seek the Great Dao outside themselves.

Mercury and lead must be placed in the same cauldron, and the sun and moon must be brought together in the same furnace. Here, "mercury and lead" and "sun and moon" refer to the different aspects of cultivation that must be harmonized. "Advancing the fire" (jìn huǒ) refers to the process of driving the firing degrees (huǒhòu) during practice. In refining, bathing, advancing the fire, and withdrawing the fire, one must be careful to avoid haste, anger, and desire, and to ensure that the increase and decrease of the process are properly regulated. If one can practice with single-minded focus day and night, forgetting the distinction between self and other, and keep the senses quiet and the mind clear, the elixir will coalesce. "Jade paste" (yù sū) is a figurative term for the completed elixir, referring to the essence condensed through storing the spirit and nourishing the vital breath (qì).