About this page. The original text of 《陆西星四篇》 (Zangwai Daoshu 藏外道書, 1 volume) is shown in Classical Chinese as transmitted in the Godners/DaoZang edition. An English interpretation of the 48 passages on this page accompanies it: select a passage or press “Interpretation” to show it. All texts in English
Reading modes explained
- Horizontal: ordinary left-to-right reading; the interpretation can be shown.
- Scroll: vertical text running right to left; the wheel scrolls sideways (no interpretation in this mode).
- Wheel: columns of vertical text turn around a drum; use the wheel, drag or arrow keys, or auto-play.
- Pages: about 200 characters per page; use the buttons, swipe or arrow keys.
Source textInterpretation
Vol. 1
The Xuanfu Lun (Discourse on Profound Subtlety) was written by Lu Xixing (Ming-dynasty Daoist scholar). Lu Xixing heard the teachings of xingming zhi xue (the study of nature and life, the inquiry into human nature and the cultivation of life) from a sage teacher and came to a sudden inner understanding. The material that was transmitted was then written up as twenty essays, totaling over seven thousand characters, under the title Xuanfu.
"Xuanfu" means that the profound principles discussed in the work are still relatively shallow and do not reach penetrating, refined insight. As the sages grew more distant in time, the transmission of the Dao (the Way) became easier to lose, and teachers of limited understanding each proclaimed whatever they knew. Most of them borrowed similar-sounding claims to disguise their deceptions. Some monks spoke only of Chan slogans, competing to outdo one another in sharp repartee. Some boasted of discussing alchemy. Some made the bedchamber arts (fangzhongshu, methods centered on sexual union as a practice) their primary method, which disrupted cultivation. Others took mineral elixirs that in fact harmed life itself. When learning is unclear, the harm it causes has no end, and benevolent people feel deep pity for it.
Lu Xixing first studied Buddhism and Daoism as a scholar trained in the Confucian tradition. Over the following two decades, the path was unsteady, and the author found himself in circumstances where no one understood him. Setbacks came repeatedly, and each time the author rose again, never abandoning the original sincerity. Only then was this opportunity obtained.
"Nature must be realized through one's own understanding, while the cultivation of life depends on the instruction of a master." These two sentences still hold more meaning than they express. Why is this so? Even a person of excellent capacity and keen insight must be guided by a teacher to achieve realization. Without personally receiving the essentials of the secret transmission and acting only on one's own ideas, one is like a blind person who does not use a cane to feel the way, wandering without knowing where to go.
People fail to hear the Dao for three reasons. First, they indulge in worldly pleasures, treating illusion as normal, or they cling to emptiness and disregard present reality. This is called the "mind of disbelief." Second, though they have some inclination toward the Way, they remain entangled in worldly affairs and cannot be freed at once, so they set the matter aside and merely get by. This is called the "mind of incompletion." Third, they believe they fully understand and refuse beneficial counsel, preferring grand talk, and this in turn causes many others to abandon the cultivation of the Dao. This is called the "mind of arrogance." As long as any one of these three attitudes is present, the sage teacher will not look after such a person, and good companions will not draw near. If old habits are allowed to continue, one will never hear the Dao throughout a lifetime, and will die without having heard it. This is truly regrettable.
Lu Xixing was deeply troubled by this, uneasy day and night, and unwilling to give up on himself. For this reason he cleared away false thoughts and devoted himself to studying the Dao with a quiet mind. During leisure moments of quiet cultivation, he reflected on the essential meaning of the sage teacher's instruction and wrote down what he had grasped in chapters. Even though this might transgress taboos, he did not dare to decline. His intention was to clarify the true essentials, to transmit the orthodox lineage of the Dao, and to let people know that they should return to the Way and nothing more.
Someone might say that the ancients usually wrote books only after they had already achieved success in cultivating the Dao, and that rushing to write suggests a certain impetuousness. Lu Xixing replied: "I have heard that the highest is to establish De (Virtue), and the next is to write books and establish teachings. Words cannot always be left unspoken. What I can do is only the second kind of writing. The Dao is in itself higher than De; if one's De has already been perfected, one need not speak at all. Though I aspire to De, I have not yet attained it."
On the Three Origins
I have heard my teacher say that there are three kinds of elixir methods (danfa), each of which can be used to accomplish one's nature and life. One may set them aside without loss. Still, I have long aspired to cultivate De (Virtue), though I have not yet achieved it.
I heard my teacher say, "There are three kinds of elixir methods, and each can liberate one's nature and life." These three are called the Heavenly Origin (Tianyuan), the Earthly Origin (Diyuan), and the Human Origin (Renyuan).
The Heavenly Origin is also called the Divine Elixir (Shendan). It is refined in the divine chamber (shenshi), an apparatus for alchemy or an inner realm of cultivation, using the method of water above and fire below, so that what has no form takes on physical substance. After nine cycles of transformation, when the fire has reached perfect completion, it becomes white snow. Refining it for a further three years turns it into a divine talisman. One who takes the talisman and consumes it can lighten the body and ascend to the heavens. This belongs to the marvelous arts of sages, in which substances change and their efficacy is wondrous. The methods are already described in great detail in the Dragon and Tiger techniques of Xuanyuan and in the Stone Casket method of the Perfected Jingyang.
The Earthly Origin is also called the Spirit Elixir (Lingdan). The Spirit Elixir is used to transform metal and stone into treasures. What is refined here are material substances such as silver, lead, cinnabar, and mercury. It can only be used to aid the world and cannot lighten the body for ascent. When the nine cycles are complete, one takes the part of the medicine with the most subtle potency and uses it to construct the divine chamber, thereby receiving the Heavenly Origin from above. This is the vessel of cultivation and the means by which the student of the Way relies. The ancient sages and perfected immortals regarded it as a sacred undertaking. Its method is in fact extremely simple and easy: one gathers the prior-heaven lead, subdues the posterior-heaven mercury, and distinguishes the floating and sinking qualities of the medicines along with the old and young stages of the fire. Many teachers today, who transmit these methods blindly, do not understand these essentials. They therefore try again and again, fail again and again, and in the end achieve nothing.
The Way of the Earthly Origin and the Way of the Human Origin do not differ in essentials. Both require discerning the floating and sinking qualities and mastering the old and young fire. Only one who thoroughly understands Yin-Yang and deeply comprehends the creative transformation of the cosmos may speak of such methods.
The Human Origin is also called the Great Elixir (Dadan). It sets up a cauldron outside the body and refines the medicine within it, using the water of the Kan trigram to replenish the fire of the Li trigram. It draws on the mechanism of creative transformation and reverses ordinary principles in cultivation. The high immortals and supreme sages of antiquity all cultivated through this method without exception. Therefore, among the teachings on liberating nature and life, nothing is closer or more real than the Human Origin.
The accomplishment of the Three Origin elixirs depends on the opportunities and conditions of Heaven, Earth, and the spirits, which human effort cannot necessarily secure. This is the Heavenly Origin. When the method is clear, the cultivation complete, and one's fortune and opportunities are all sufficient, so that practice feels like taking something already in hand, this is the Earthly Origin. When one holds the transformations of Heaven and Earth within the body, so that the myriad changes arise from oneself, and even the spirits cannot fathom its mechanism and Yin-Yang cannot escape its calculation, this is the Human Origin.
Then do the Three Origins also have distinctions of greater and lesser, higher and lower? The answer: "I heard my teacher say that Heaven contains the earth, and the earth bears the human body. Their relative size is thus evident. This is the ranking of the Three Origins."
The Treatise on Inner and Outer Medicines holds that the study of alchemy must first establish a "cauldron and furnace" (dinglu) outside the body before medicines are refined within it, which is why there is a distinction between "inner medicine" (neiyao) and "outer medicine" (waiyao). Those who discuss outer medicine often miss the essential point and pass along errors from one to another, which is truly regrettable.
The Dao (the Way) is originally within the person, and inner cultivation is indeed carried out within the body. Why, then, should a cauldron and furnace be set up outside? Because establishing one is a measure the sages adopted only out of necessity. Laozi likened the use of weapons to something done only when unavoidable, saying: "Weapons are inauspicious things; the sage uses them only when forced to."
The "superior medicine" (shangyao) has three grades, namely shen (spirit), qi (vital energy), and jing (essence). In the prenatal (xiantian) state, a person originally possesses these fully integrated and undifferentiated, so why would they need further cultivation? Thus, newborn infants all resemble a sacred embryo (shengtai). Yet once emotion and desire arise, the integral prenatal state is damaged. Once the prenatal body is impaired, the elixir qi within it gradually changes, and its activity increasingly falls into the postnatal (houtian) domain. Postnatal things all belong to yin and cannot be preserved for long, so one must rely on prenatal substances of the same kind to replenish them. The so-called "prenatal of the same kind" refers to the Greater Yang Metal of Qian, that is, the prenatal essential qi belonging to yang. Refining yin with yang allows the physical form to endure.
The Zhouyi Cantong Qi (Kinship of the Three According to the Book of Changes, a classic of Daoist alchemy, hereafter Qi) says: "To produce an elixir that can be taken over a long period and that enables a person to endure, one must seek things of the same kind. It is like mending a broken fence with bamboo, or hatching a chick with an egg." The analogy is very clear. However, one must also understand that the qi of the two sides issues from the same Supreme Ultimate (taiji), and that yin and yang essences each contain the other, so one cannot rely on cultivating a single side alone. The Book of Changes says: "The union of one yin and one yang is called the Dao." It also says: "Sounds that are alike respond to one another; breaths that are alike resonate with one another." The Qi likewise says: "When the qi of yin and yang intermingle, the primal qi begins to sprout and grow." This is the pattern of creation: following its course generates a person, and reversing it in cultivation forms the elixir. Its function is subtle and natural, and it cannot be denied.
Therefore, refining medicine internally and setting up a cauldron externally is not merely a way of compensating for one's own deficiencies.
Output ONLY the English translation, so I'll translate the text directly.
The Cantong qi (Wuzhen Pian background) says: "Heaven and earth establish their positions, and the transformations of Yin and Yang operate between them." Here, "Yi" (the Changes) refers to transformation, namely the trigrams Kan (Water) and Li (Fire). In the Wuzhen Pian, a poem reads: "First take Qian and Kun as the cauldron vessel, then take the medicines of the Crow and the Hare and refine them over the fire." Qian and Kun symbolize Yin and Yang, while the Crow and the Hare symbolize the essences (jing) of Yin and Yang.
The Li trigram symbolizes the sun. The sun is Yang, yet the central line of Li is Yin, indicating that Yin is hidden within Yang. The Kan trigram symbolizes the moon. The moon is Yin, yet the central line of Kan is Yang, indicating that Yang is hidden within Yin. The Cantong qi says: "The male Kan is the sun, the female Li is the moon," which expresses exactly this principle. Thus Qian and Kun represent pure Yin and pure Yang, while Kan and Li represent the mutual union of Yin and Yang, each concealing the other within.
In the human body, before sexual desire stirs, the state is that of pure Yin and pure Yang symbolized by Qian and Kun. Once desire arises, the bodies of Yin and Yang interact, and the vital essence (jing qi) that each conceals begins to function. The number of Lesser Yin is eight, and males receive this number, so their essential qi becomes free-flowing at age sixteen. The number of Lesser Yang is seven, and females receive this number, so the tiangui (the vital essence related to reproductive development) arrives at age fourteen. Does this not embody the principle that Yang contains Yin and Yin contains Yang?
Someone asked: "Males' essential qi becomes free-flowing at sixteen, and this is naturally a response to something. What, then, is the stimulus that brings on the arrival of the tiangui in females at fourteen?"
"Setting aside whether this qi has already engaged with external things, once qi begins to move, the original undifferentiated state has already been broken. Beneath heavy yin, a single yang suddenly returns. This is the season symbolized by the Hexagram Fu (Return) in the eleventh lunar month. At this moment, where does the original heart of heaven and earth, their ceaseless generation, actually appear? Confucius sighed over this, perhaps because the breath of heaven and earth's interaction had not yet spread, while the opportunity for the single yang to be reborn had already begun to stir.
"When qi is about to move but has not yet moved, seeming to move and yet not, it is called the prior-heaven True Yi Qi (xiantian zhenyi zhi qi), the pure, original vitality of prior heaven. It is the root of creation and the key to how all things come into being and transform. Once the first signs appear and form and color become visible, one falls into the posterior-heaven stage, where things have shape and substance. Therefore, when I speak of 'breaking,' I speak from the point where qi begins to move. I do not mean that the break must wait until yin and yang interact and the breath spreads throughout.
"When a man first produces semen, at first there may not yet be any visible material essence (jing). It must be that qi arrives first, then turns into water, and then into essence. The qi that arrives first is prior-heaven qi. Qi transforming into water is precisely what the Yijing (Book of Changes) describes as 'Heaven's One generates Water.' Once the prior-heaven original substance is set in motion, posterior-heaven functions follow and operate. After posterior-heaven functions are in operation, the prior-heaven true mechanism becomes even more subtle. When the marvel of creation reveals itself to this degree, who would say it is not so? You may ask a teacher to verify this.
On Prior-Heaven and Posterior-Heaven
"Why is it that after posterior-heaven functions begin to operate, the prior-heaven true mechanism becomes even more hidden?"
On Lead and Mercury (Qian Gong Lun)
Someone says: "The True Nature of Prior Heaven (xiantian zhenxing) cannot be seen. Whatever can be seen belongs to Later Heaven (houtian). What are now called nasal mucus, saliva, bodily fluids (jinye), semen (jingye), Qi, blood, and humors are all material and impure. They belong to Later Heaven and cannot be taken as the root that cultivation should pursue. Thus some people regard Jing, Qi, and Shen as things of Prior Heaven, without realizing that once the function of Later Heaven is set in motion, Jing, Qi, and Shen also manifest along with that function and are drawn into Later Heaven. Why is this so? Once the senses and conscious activity have opened, whatever is spoken and put to use has already fallen into Later Heaven. At that point, the True Nature of Prior Heaven sinks into concealment, gradually weakens and becomes subtle, and diminishes day by day, and can no longer serve as the root that governs the whole body. The reason people age, fall ill, die, and suffer is precisely that the functions of Later Heaven are exhausted, and the root of Prior Heaven no longer remains.
Since this is so, if one wishes to keep the physical form long and stable, besides relying on the things of Prior Heaven, what else could one rely on?"
Someone asks: "To call the Prior Heaven Qi 'True Lead' (zhen qian), what is the principle behind this?"
"True" is defined in relation to the mundane. The true original substance has no form or image, whereas ordinary things have shape and appearance. If we wish to explain the principle in detail, we must begin from the root: when Qian and Kun (Heaven and Earth) unite, the bodies of Li and Kan (Fire and Water) come into being. Once Qian and Kun have united, the state that was originally undifferentiated and whole begins to separate. Therefore, in the Later Heaven arrangement of the trigrams, Qian and Kun withdraw to the high position and no longer carry out actual functions, which are taken over by Li and Kan.
North and South are the two poles of Heaven and Earth. In the Former Heaven arrangement, North and South were originally guarded by Qian and Kun; later, when Qian and Kun withdrew and ceased to act, Li and Kan replaced them, and the transformations of the Later Heaven began to operate. Li symbolizes the sun, shining over the South; Kan symbolizes the moon, reflecting over the North. The sun and moon illuminate one another, and from this the myriad things are born. Although this is spoken of as the function of the Later Heaven, its fundamental basis is nonetheless formed by the Former Heaven original substance.
The true qi within Kan transforms into "lead," which is the Water produced by Heaven's One; the true essence within Li transforms into "mercury," which is the Fire produced by Earth's Two. Lead, mercury, water, and fire are all named and formed things of the world; yet "true lead" and "true mercury" cannot be defined by name or image. Therefore, one can only borrow tangible things as analogies and call them "true," which in fact refers to Yin essence (jing) and Yang qi. The Yijing says: "When essence and qi condense, the myriad things are formed." When essence and qi unite, a human being begins to come into being; all of this belongs to the function of the Former Heaven.
Because Yin and Yang contain one another, a man receives essence and, by employing it, gives rise to a person; a woman receives qi, and by employing it, her vital vigor flourishes. Employing essence in its natural forward flow leads one to become a person in accordance with ordinary principle; employing qi in reverse flow allows one to refine the elixir. That the "Former Heaven qi" is called true lead is justified. By using the undisturbed Former Heaven true lead to restrain the long-accumulated Later Heaven true mercury, the two naturally draw close and depend upon each other, inseparable like husband and wife, or mother and child.
That this is so is originally a matter of spontaneity, yet not everyone necessarily understands the reasons behind it. Without a thorough grasp of Yin and Yang and a deep understanding of the principles of creation and transformation, it is difficult to comprehend the principle being described here.
If Primordial Qi (yuanqi) is likened to lead and Primordial Jing (yuanjing) to mercury, then what exactly is Primordial Shen (yuanshen)?
Answer: Primordial Shen is xing (nature), the master of jing and qi. It is everywhere yet impossible to fathom. It is numinous and penetrating, with no fixed location, and so it is called "shen" (spirit). When shen is settled, jing condenses; when jing condenses, qi returns and unites; when qi unites, the inner elixir (neidan) forms. All of these are functions on the prenatal (xiantian) level.
The "Primordial Jing" discussed here is not the seminal fluid produced by sexual union, but the true fluid stored in Li (one of the Eight Trigrams, here referring to the heart), the numinous fluid within the heart. The "Primordial Qi" is not the breath of the mouth and nose, but the true qi stored in Kan (one of the Eight Trigrams, here referring to the kidneys), the prenatal qi contained within emptiness. The "Primordial Shen" is also not the consciousness of everyday thought and deliberation, but the numinous, luminous true nature that penetrates to the Wuji and that a person possessed before being born of their parents.
The person is itself a Taiji (taiji, Supreme Ultimate). Jing and qi are the yin and yang aspects of this Taiji, and shen is the Wuji on which the Taiji is based. This is what is meant by Primordial Jing, Primordial Qi, and Primordial Shen.
Master Cuixu (Cuixu Zhenren) states it well in verse: "This jing is not the jing of male-female union, but the saliva from the mouth of the Jade Emperor." Here the "Jade Emperor" refers to the heart-lord, that is, the heart, and the "saliva in the mouth" refers to the numinous fluid within the heart. "This qi is not the breath of respiration, but the smoke of Taisu." The "smoke of Taisu" refers to the prenatal True Yi qi. "This shen is not the shen of thought and deliberation; it can stand beside the Primordial Sovereign." The Primordial Sovereign is Yuanshi Tianzun. The shen spoken of here is the truth of the Wuji, pervading heaven, earth, and the cosmos, standing majestically alone while moving transcendently.
On the Unifying Role of Shen
"How do we know that shen governs jing and qi?"
The Refinement of Shen and the Two Liquids
Begin with the person's acquired state of body and mind. When shen (spirit) is excessively disturbed, jing (essence) and qi (vital energy) scatter, and the mind becomes restless. When shen is excessively indulged, qi is depleted and the body weakens. When shen rests within jing, it is called jingshen (essence-spirit). When shen rests within qi, it is called shenqi (spirit-qi). Jing and qi flourish only when shen governs them, much as a minister gains high rank when he has a ruler. For this reason, the most essential task for one who cultivates the Dao is to nourish shen.
The shen spoken of here is a person's temperament and mental disposition. When temperament is stable, shen naturally becomes tranquil. When shen is tranquil, jing can be held firm, and when jing is held firm, qi can arise and flourish. Why is this so? When temperament is stable, the fire of the heart does not blaze upward. When that fire does not blaze, the fluids of the body do not dry up, and the jing within the body can remain settled. The jing of the five zang and six fu organs all belongs to Water. Once the jing within the body is settled, the jing stored in the kidneys can also be kept secure.
The kidneys are the storehouse of jing. When kidney jing is abundant, it gathers like water rising into a tide, steaming upward and suffusing the whole body like clouds and mist, linking above and below. The yuanshen (primordial spirit), the innate sovereign spirit present from birth, moves this flow within. It governs the rising and falling, the advancing and pausing, as it wishes. This is called Jiji (Already Complete), the joining of Water and Fire in mutual harmony. It is also the state in which, when acquired qi is transformed properly, the body feels as though intoxicated with wine. However, all of this concerns only the functions of the acquired body and mind.
As for the innate functions of gathering, mating, and transcendent transformation, these are not directed by conscious awareness. They are accomplished by the Yuanyi (Primordial Oneness), the originally undifferentiated state. For this reason, the most essential task for one who cultivates the Dao is to refine shen. What is called refining shen is yuye lianji (refining the self with Jade Liquid), which means cultivating one's mind and nature through the method of Jade Liquid. This is the root from which the Great Dao begins and by which it is ultimately completed.
On the Golden Liquid and the Jade Liquid
In the Dan method, there are the teachings of jinye lianxing (refining the form with Golden Liquid) and yuye lianji (refining the self with Jade Liquid). What is the intended meaning of each?
The Dao (Dào) is the simultaneous cultivation of nature and life (xìng mìng shuāng xiū), bringing both body and spirit to a state of mysterious and perfect integration. "Refining the form with golden fluid" (jīn yè liàn xíng) describes the accomplishment of the work of life (mìng gōng), while "refining the self with jade fluid" (yù yè liàn jǐ) describes the accomplishment of the work of nature (xìng gōng).
What is "jade fluid"? Jade (yù) is a metaphor for gentleness, moistness, purity, and steadfast integrity, while gold (jīn) symbolizes firmness and strength that resist destruction. To cultivate one's nature is to continually diminish private desires and restrain one's partiality, so that body and mind become gentle and pure, like jade. Once this is achieved, the inner cultivation has matured.
Only after inner cultivation has matured may one approach the furnace to gather medicinals and carry out a period of refining and nourishing practice. When the moment arrives and qi begins to stir, one applies the methods that inner alchemy (nèidān) terminology calls "seizing the Kǎn to fill the Lí" (qǔ kǎn tián lí) and "gathering lead and subduing mercury" (cǎi qiān fú gǒng). This causes the yang within the Kǎn trigram to enter the position of Lí and regulates the lead and mercury. The single yang line of the Kǎn trigram is regarded as the Primordial Heaven's Qián Metal and is called the "golden fluid." Using it to refine the form transforms the body into pure yang, so that the physical form becomes firm and enduring, as unbreakable as gold.
Thus there are two kinds of refinement, jade refinement and gold refinement. Only when nature and life are cultivated together can both form and spirit attain the mysterious. Jade refinement belongs to the Way of wúwéi (non-action), while gold refinement belongs to the art of yǒuwéi (purposive action). One proceeds first from non-action into purposive action, and after completing the purposive work returns to non-action. In this way the principle of cultivating nature and life is realized, and the work of cultivating the Dao is complete.
On Nature and Life
What is "nature" (xìng)? What is "life" (mìng)?
Someone says: "Xing (human nature, the spiritual root of a person) is the common origin of all things, while ming (the life and endowment each person receives and establishes) is what each individual bears. Without ming, xing has no way to manifest; without xing, ming loses its numinous clarity. Xing and ming each have their own governing principle, yet they also depend on one another. Today, those who discuss the Dao often assign xing and ming to different schools, without realizing that Dao and vessel depend on each other, that being and non-being rely on each other, and that emptiness and substance give rise to each other. These cannot originally be divided into two separate things. Therefore, xing is shen (spirit and numinous awareness), and ming is jing (essence) and qi (vital energy). Xing corresponds to Wuji (the undifferentiated source), and ming corresponds to Taiji (the state in which yin and yang have not yet separated but contain the principle of generation and transformation). How could they be separated from each other?"
Someone else says: "The Buddhists understand xing, and the Daoists understand ming. This is not a complete account. Buddhism speaks of the absence of a self-image in order to dismantle the views of craving and attachment. Daoism speaks of guarding the Mother (shou mu), which values preserving the root that is nameless and formless. If one does not understand xing, how can one understand ming? And once one understands ming, how could one abandon xing? Therefore, when one discusses xing without falling into emptiness and stillness, ming is contained within it. When one guards the root and returns to simplicity, xing is contained within it as well. This is called penetrating the principles of ming by way of the origin of xing. It is also called bringing both form and spirit to refinement, so that one accords with the Dao in its reality."
Someone asks: "You have explained xing and ming already clearly and thoroughly. I would like to ask: what exactly is xing within a person? Can it be seen?"
"Nature (xing, the innate nature of a person) cannot be seen, so whatever manifests is the nature. If one tries to pursue how it manifests from the place where it cannot be seen, one will only drift further away from it. Why is this so? Nature can be realized in moments of no-mind, but it cannot be obtained through deliberate seeking. In the past, Laozi praised the uncarved block (taipu, the original, undecorated state) and explained it through namelessness. The Yellow Emperor found the dark pearl (xuanzhu, a symbol of the true Dao) within the realm of wangxiang (a dim, formless state). These ancient metaphors all carry deep meaning."
"Let us speak next of how a human being comes into existence. The true essence of Wuji (the undifferentiated primordial source) joins with the essential qi (jingqi) of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases and condenses into form. What is called nature is Wuji, and what is called life-destiny (ming) is the essential qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases. When the two combine in a subtle union, a person is born. Before birth, Wuji is still chaotic and undivided, with no form, no name, no sound, no breath, and no thread of thought. Once the qi of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases gathers and a person acquires spiritual awareness, what would there be to deliberate or to plan? This is the original state of nature."
"Once emotional consciousness (qingshi, the activity formed by emotions, awareness, and discriminating thought) is set in motion, the substance of nature becomes obscured. Zhang Zai said: 'Once there is a physical body, there is a temperamental nature; one who excels at returning to the source preserves the heavenly nature.' The emotional consciousness spoken of here is the temperamental nature, and the substance that has been lost and obscured is the heavenly nature. Confucius said, 'Return to the uncarved, return to the infant, return to the Wuji,' which describes precisely the act of returning to the source."
"Therefore, the key to cultivating the Dao lies first in refining the nature. When the nature becomes settled, the temperament also becomes harmonious and ceases to be a burden, and the original nature-substance will naturally appear. My teacher composed a poem that says: 'Do not lose the original nature, and the original nature will naturally abide; when the nature abides, the qi naturally returns; when the qi returns, the inner elixir (neidan) naturally coalesces; within the Dantian, Kan and Li are joined.' This means that bringing Houtian (Later Heaven) back to Xiantian (Prior Heaven) and bringing its subtle function into play is what is meant by completing the work of life through the work of nature."
Q: Since the human nature is only one, why is there a distinction between benxing (original nature) and zhixing (substantive nature)?
A: Benxing is spoken of in terms of what is prior to heaven (xiantian): it is pure, complete, and clear, a single whole lacking nothing. Sages do not add to it, and fools do not diminish it. Zhixing is spoken of in terms of what is posterior to heaven (houtian): it arises from the influences of the physical form and the temperament, and so there come to be differences of clarity and turbidity, thickness and thinness.
When the two forces of yin and yang join, they give birth to people and all things in their many forms. Among these, the mixtures and differences arise from the variations present when the fetus first received yuanqi (primal qi). Why is this so? From beginningless time up to the present, people have been shaping their mingxing (life-nature) under the influence of qingyu (emotions and desires). Thoughts arise in response to external circumstances, and when one encounters things, feelings are produced. Over long periods of such conditioning, the qi that one receives becomes either pure or mixed, and therefore one's inclinations and desires differ in depth. Each person, relying on their original nature, pursues desires that are colored by self-partiality.
Zhixing cannot operate on its own. A person is able to act only by relying on the spiritual brightness (lingming) of benxing. It is like an unruly household servant or an unworthy son who issues orders in the master's name. For this reason, the analogy of water is often used: benxing is like water, and when it falls into the temperament, it is like water flowing into a mire. When the water is drawn out, people see only the mire and cannot see the water within it. How could the mire flow on its own? In truth, it is the water that moves it, but because the water is mixed into the mire, it is hard to see. After a long settling, clear water rises to the top and turbid mud sinks below. When the water is then drawn off, it is all water. This is the discipline of clarifying the original nature and returning to the authentic.
Q: Are yuanxing (primal nature) and yuanshen (primal spirit) different?
A: Yuanxing is yuanshen; there is no difference between them. Because it is numinous and penetrating, impossible to fully measure, and responds to all things without any fixed pattern, it is called shen (spirit). It is called yuan (primal) in order to distinguish it from the thinking and deliberation that arise after birth.
Shen within the human body is also the primordial spirit (yuanshen) innately present from Xiantian (the prior-to-Heaven state), distinct from the discursive mind of Houtian (the posterior-to-Heaven state). It is subtle and penetrating, difficult to fathom, and responds with refined sensitivity without any fixed mode, so it is called "shen." It is called "yuanshen" to distinguish it from the thinking that arises from later acquired conditions.
Does the Shen also have a dwelling place within the body?
The respondent said: "I have heard from Immortal Master Ziqing (Ziqing xianshi) that a person has three 'valleys' (gu), the places where the primordial spirit dwells in emptiness and where its numinous nature is lodged. They are as vast as mountain valleys, so they are also called the 'valley spirit' (gushen). When the Shen is present, life exists; when the Shen departs, a person dies. By day the Shen engages with external things; by night it engages with dreams, so the Shen cannot settle in its proper place."
The Lingshu Neijing (Spiritual Pivot) says: "Tiangu yuanshen, shou zhi zi zhen" ("The celestial valley and the primordial spirit: guard them and you become naturally genuine"). In the body, the upper valley is called the Celestial Valley (tiangu), which is Niwan (the spirit's seat in the head). The middle valley is called the Responsive Valley (yinggu), which is Jiangong (the location of the heart). The lower valley is called the Numinous Valley (linggu), which is Guanyuan (roughly the area of the Lower Dantian). All three are dwellings of the Shen, and they are also called the three fields (santian).
I have explained this as follows. Niwan is the home palace where the Shen resides. Jiangong is the bright hall where the Shen handles affairs. Linggu is the secret chamber where the Shen hides and cultivates itself. Therefore, when the yuanshen dwells in Jiangong, the ears can hear and the eyes can see, the five sense organs each perform their roles, and the parts of the body move accordingly. When the yuanshen dwells in linggu, the gaze turns inward, hearing is withdrawn, and Shen and Qi (vital energy) guard one another, so that body and mind become one."
Yangzi said: "Hide the heart in a deep abyss, and the root of the spirit will be nourished." Here "abyss" refers to a place that is profound, dark, and difficult to fathom, that is, linggu, the place where the Shen is concealed and dwells.
On the River Chariot (Hechelun)
Since the Shen has been settled in concealment, this is called "returning to the root" (guigen). Returning to the root is stillness, and stillness is a return to the original state of life.
When the spirit and qi are gathered and settled, this is called "returning to the root." Returning to the root means stillness, and when stillness reaches its limit, one returns to the original life-root (benming). At this point shen and qi hold each other and stay unified without separating. When extreme stillness gives way to movement, the shen rises with the qi to Niwan (the mud-pellet region within the head), and the path of the River Chariot (hecheng), the circulation route, begins to open. This River Chariot path is the Ren and Du channels that run along the front and back of the body.
When qi first begins to rise, it seems to steam upward softly and gathers between the two kidneys, like a tide surging or ice melting, spreading out to the area around the Five Shu points, the important acupoints along the meridians. This is qi overflowing in all directions rather than flowing through its proper channels. The practitioner must immediately use yi (mental intention) to guide the qi back toward the Weilu (the tailbone at the end of the spine), so that it ascends along the spine, passes through the Jiaji Shuangguan (the two gateways beside the spine), and the Fengfu point at the back of the neck, reaching Niwan directly. Shen and qi meet here, and the qi then flows smoothly and harmoniously.
After a while, the qi transforms into a fresh, sweet fluid that descends from Chonglou (the throat), passes through the Jianggong (the heart region), and enters Ziting (the inner region of the abdomen), before returning to the place where shen and qi are stored to rest. Through repeated circulation of this kind, and as it becomes skillful over time, qi fills the upper, middle, and lower Dantian (the three energy centers of the body), and the flow above and below becomes clear and well coordinated. This is what is meant by: "Constantly let the qi penetrate the joints, and naturally the jing will be full and the Valley Spirit will remain." When practice reaches this stage, the signs of inner cultivation become evident. Yet without deep study and personal experience, how could one understand the meaning of what I have described?
Treatise on Clarifying the Spirit
"I have now understood what you, Master, said about the dwelling place where the spirit is stored. May I ask what the principle of storing the spirit is?"
What is meant by "storing the shen" (cang shen) is the concentration of the mind-spirit. To concentrate the shen (spirit), one must first clarify the mind, and to clarify the mind, one must first dispel desires. The Qingjing Jing (Scripture of Purity and Stillness) says: "When desires are removed, the mind naturally becomes still; when the mind is made clear, the shen naturally becomes lucid." The Yijing (Book of Changes) says: "The sage uses this to wash the mind and withdraws to a secluded, quiet place." The "washing of the mind" mentioned here means clarifying the mind-spirit. Zhou Dunyi says: "Without desire, there is stillness." The "non-desire" spoken of here means completely dispelling desires.
The human shen naturally delights in quiescence, yet it is disturbed by thoughts. The human mind naturally delights in stillness, yet it is drawn away by desires. The "mind" spoken of here is of two kinds. The mind that disturbs the shen is the deluded mind (wang xin), and the mind that loves stillness is the true mind (zhen xin). Once the deluded mind arises, the shen is startled, and how could it remain clear? Once the shen is startled, it clings to the myriad things. Clinging to things gives rise to craving, and craving produces afflictions. Afflictions and delusive thoughts cause body and mind to suffer, and how could the mind then be still?
Therefore, to clarify the mind-spirit, one must first dispel desires. One who can do this turns inward to observe the mind and finds that the mind has no fixed, unchanging substance, understanding that the "three minds" of past, present, and future are all unobtainable. Turning outward to observe the body, one finds that the body likewise has no fixed, unchanging substance. Looking afar at the myriad things, one also finds that they have no fixed, unchanging substance. From this realization, the subject, the body, and the myriad things are no longer clung to, and what remains is only emptiness. This is "emptiness of the person" (ren kong). Even "emptiness" has nothing to grasp. Since what was emptied does not exist, even the "non-nothing" does not exist. Ultimately one reaches a state of clarity and constant stillness, and this is "emptiness of dharmas" (fa kong).
Thus, when the senses and external objects both return to stillness, the six desires no longer arise, and the mind is quiet. When the mind is still, the shen naturally becomes clear, like a water surface without ripples, where the vast waters are clear to the bottom. The Celestial Master Xujing (Zhang Jixian, a Song dynasty Daoist) says in the Dadao Ge (Song of the Great Dao): "If you wish that the shen within the body not flow outward, do not let anything remain in the mind. If external things are kept in the mind, the shen cannot be clear, and this dissipates the true jing (essence) and harms the sinews and bones." The principle of dispelling desires and clarifying the mind-spirit may await a sage for a hundred generations to verify it, yet it will not change.
On Nourishing the Spirit
"Once the spirit (shen) has become clear and still, what further cultivation is required?"
The answer is: "Nourish it. To nourish the spirit is to gather in its light and keep it from showing outwardly. The spirit grows more luminous the stiller it becomes, and more keen the more luminous it becomes. Because a settled mind gives rise to wisdom, the numinous light of awareness shines forth, illuminating all directions and penetrating principles so that it cannot be hidden. If this wisdom is used without pause, and its light is displayed to excess, it will in turn harm one's original nature.
The Zhuangzi says: 'When the inner mind is tranquil and settled, the heaven-given numinous awareness will manifest.' It also says: 'The ancients who cultivated the Dao used wisdom to nourish stillness.' Once wisdom has arisen, one does not hasten to act on it. This is called nourishing wisdom through stillness. The Zuowang Shuji Lun (Discourse on the Pivot of Sitting and Forgetting) says: 'To possess wisdom without using it at will is to appear, in truth, to be dull. In this way, concentration and wisdom mutually enhance each other, and both reach a state of excellence.' The Daodejing says: 'Sincere and unadorned, like uncarved wood; murky and formless, like turbid water.' It also says: 'Others all seem bright and knowing, but I alone seem dull; others are all sharp and discerning, but I alone seem muddled.' These are the essentials of nourishing the spirit.
On Concentrating the Spirit
"Once the spirit has been nourished, how should it be gathered and concentrated?"
"Concentrating the spirit" (ningshen) means keeping the mind-spirit settled within the breath, and it is a method for cultivating the study of nature and life (xingming zhi xue). The Cantong Qi (Kinship of the Three) says: "Manage and nourish the Yin'e, and concentrate the spirit to form the body." Yin'e refers to the foundation within the body where vital essence gathers and is nourished. Buddhist meditation emphasizes entering samadhi by leaving the palace, while Daoist alchemy values seeking the profound within the Water Palace (shuifu). Clarifying the spirit is important, but gathering it is more urgent. The Cuixu Yin (Chant of the Jade Void) says: "In the past, I met my master, who passed on the oral formulas: only concentrate the spirit and enter the Qi cavity (qixue)." The Qi cavity is where the Yin'e of the body lies. The Shenshi Lun (Treatise on the Spirit Chamber) already explains this very clearly. The author was concerned that students knew how to clarify the spirit but not where to rest the concentrated spirit. Without an anchor, the mind cannot grasp the essential principle of returning to the root and restoring destiny (guigen fuming). The author was also concerned that students knew how to nourish the spirit but not how to concentrate it, so they had no way to begin and could not perceive the subtle workings of creative transformation (zaohua). For these reasons, the author wrote this discussion. Concentrating the spirit is the key to entering the profound realm and the foremost principle of the alchemical method.
By "concentration," the text does not mean sitting rigidly still. It means letting the mind rest in the Qi cavity and remaining with it without separation. Laozi says: "Can you embrace the One (baoyi) with your corporeal soul and never let it go?" That is, can you unite the spirit with the physical form so that they never separate? The Qi cavity is the place where a person, at conception, receives the essence of their parents and forms the embryonic root. It is the Supreme Ultimate (taiji) that each person possesses. It has many names: Qihai (Sea of Qi), Guanyuan (Gate of Origin), Lingu (Spirit Valley), Xiatian (Lower Field), Tiangen (Heavenly Root), Mingdi (Life Stem), Guigen Qiao (Root-Returning Orifice), and Fuming Guan (Destiny-Restoring Pass). All of these refer to the same place.
While a person is in the womb, their breathing is connected to the mother's. After birth, when the umbilical cord is cut, they acquire their own furnace and cauldron (luding), the body used for cultivation, and form a world of their own. From then on, every breath returns to the Qi cavity, the root. Breath sustains life. If a breath cannot continue, a person stops breathing and dies. Exhaling is the unfolding of breath and belongs to Yang. Inhaling is the gathering of breath and belongs to Yin. One inhalation and one exhalation together are called one breath (yi xi). Physicians observe the movement of qi through breathing, and there is real basis for this.
The Zhuangzi says: "The breath of the common people reaches only the throat, but the breath of the true person reaches the heels." To "reach the heels" means that the breath goes deep into the Qi cavity. Ordinary people do not lack deep breathing. Their minds simply are not in it, so the breath moves in and out without their awareness, and it feels as though they breathe only through the throat. Those who have accomplished cultivation let the mind follow the breath so that it sinks deeply into the root cavity, continuous and unbroken, present yet barely perceptible. In this way they unify the breath and bring it to softness. They hold to embracing the One without letting go, enter a state of extreme emptiness and stillness, and observe the process by which all things return to their source.
The "following" mentioned here is not a deliberate chase after the breath. It means neither forgetting the breath nor forcing it. When the mind follows the breath, it becomes steady. When the mind is steady, the breath also gathers. When the mind follows the breath, it becomes calm. When the mind is calm, the breath also becomes calm. The two depend on each other. The method of concentrating the spirit begins with regulating the breath, and regulating the breath means letting the mind naturally follow the breathing.
Breathing can be divided into two kinds: ordinary breath (fan xi), the breathing that usually moves in and out through the mouth and nose, and true breath (zhen xi), which the alchemical tradition calls embryonic breathing (taixi), the subtle, natural circulation of Qi within the body. When ordinary breath is regulated, the mind-spirit (xinshen) also settles; when the mind-spirit settles, the breath is regulated accordingly, and the two depend on each other. For this reason, concentrating the spirit in cultivation must begin with regulating the breath (tiaoxi).
The regulation of breath described here means letting the mind-spirit rest naturally on the breath, not chasing after it deliberately. The phrase Zhu Xi used, "breathing gently, like fish in a spring pond" (xiran er xu, ru chun zhao yu), describes exactly this subtle, natural state: like fish in a spring pond exhaling softly. Ordinary breath gradually ceases not because one holds it on purpose, but because once the mind reaches extreme stillness and single-mindedness, thoughts become fine and the breath becomes fine along with them.
The author points out that if the mind-spirit has not first been calmed through practice, forcing oneself to follow the breath often leads to unconscious deliberate effort. Once the mind strains, the Qi has not yet steadied before the mind-spirit is already agitated, and the breath ends up controlling the mind instead. True regulation of breath means the mind rests naturally in the breath, not chasing it.
Regulating breath must also begin with regulating the mind: gathering scattered thoughts so the mind returns to tranquility, and keeping the mind-spirit settled within the body whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. With long practice this becomes skilled and habitual, and the mind-spirit grows gentle and clear, in harmony with the breath. Once mind and breath harmonize and depend on each other, one still must not force anything. At this point ordinary breath stops naturally and true breath arises on its own. True breath is like a bellows set in motion, driving the refinement of Jing into Qi (lianjing huaqi), the transformation of essence into internal Qi, so that Qi rises and passes through the three palaces (sangong), the upper, middle, and lower sites of practice in the Daoist alchemical tradition. This is what is meant by the true bellows, the cauldron, and the fire timing (huohou), the terms internal alchemy (Neidan) uses to describe how breath moves, is refined, and follows its rhythm.
"Why, then, should true breath be regarded as fire? What reasoning lies behind this?"
Someone asked, "Is there such a teaching?" The reply was, "Yes. The ancient immortals often said: 'Do not cling to the furnace or fixate on the fire timing. Simply settle the mind, regulate the breath, and let things take their natural course. The river chariot (heche) in the cauldron need not be forced. Quiet nurturing, like the crane's embryo, and breathing as long and gentle as a tortoise's, will continue of their own accord.' Many similar sayings exist. Yet this does not mean that breathing itself is the fire. The fire refers to spirit fire (shenhuo), while the breath acts like a bellows, lending force to the flame."
When Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) hold to each other, Shen rests in Wuwei (non-action), yet Qi still moves on its own, now gathering, now expanding, and circulating up and down along the meridians. Who perceives this movement? It is Shen. As the original qi (yuanqi) flows, the Original Spirit (yuanshen) perceives it with clarity. When Shen and Qi merge, relaxation and tightness are in harmony, the fire becomes balanced and even, and only then can the elixir be completed.
I once compared the bellows to true breathing (zhenxi, the long, subtle, and natural breath cultivated in practice), and I think the comparison holds. When smiths smelt metal, they first work the bellows so the fire flares up, and only then does the metal melt. If one lets a great wind blow at random, the flames scatter, and the metal will never melt. Why? A great wind comes and goes unpredictably, like ordinary people breathing through the throat. The steady stream from a bellows flows without interruption, like the "heel breath" (zhongxi, the deep, fine breathing that seems to rise from the heels) spoken of by the perfected. Shen follows the breath and the two merge, as fire is aided by wind. Qi transforms under Shen's guidance, as metal melts in the fire. Explained this way, the meaning becomes clear.
Someone asked: "Are the advancing and retreating of the fire-regulating methods (huofu, the means of adjusting the fire timing in internal alchemy) and the saying 'morning Tun, evening Meng' (chao tun mu meng, which uses the hexagrams Tun and Meng from the Book of Changes to symbolize the sequence or fire timing of practice) the same or different in meaning?"
He said: "In the past, without a master's guidance, I privately found the timing of the fire very hard to grasp. I once calculated by the zhoutian (the cycle of celestial movement) and used the guaqi (correlating hexagrams with the seasons) as a reference, subdividing the double-hours and water-clock divisions, but my study came to nothing. Only later did I suddenly understand. The alchemical scriptures number ten thousand volumes, and though the fire formulas number six hundred, one can set them aside once the essential point is heard and no longer be bound by them. The saying 'The true fire has no timing; the great medicine has its own weight' is indeed apt, and it did not deceive me.
Refining the medicine divides into inner refinement (neidan) and outer refinement (waidan), so the fire likewise has simple and complex forms. What is called inner refinement can be summed up in one phrase: 'like silk brocade, as if preserved.' It is dense like brocade, yet sustained as though it were both present and absent. The 'outer medicine' mentioned here is not the outer medicine discussed earlier, but refers to the tianyuan and diyuan (terms for different categories of alchemical method). 'Fu' (talisman, correspondence) means that the method of refinement must accord with the Dao of Heaven.
The alchemical method uses the Geng and Jia days of the lunar cycle to describe the changing ripeness of the ingredients, and the Zi and Wu hours of the day to represent the waxing and waning of the fire. The phrase 'morning Tun, evening Meng' only says that the advance and retreat of the fire follow a fixed order, roughly like the changes symbolized by the hexagrams Tun and Meng. Once the meaning is grasped, one need not be bound by the hexagram images.
The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) says: 'Inner medicine and outer medicine are connected; when inner cultivation is penetrated, outer cultivation must be penetrated as well. The principle of harmonizing the medicine-head is similar, yet warming and nourishing serve two functions. Within, there is naturally a true fire, and the inner cauldron is often bright and warm. The outer furnace requires diligent adjustment of the fire, and the most wondrous thing is the true seed.' Here the 'true seed' refers to the renyuan (the method that takes the human being as the source of the medicine), and this is the key to judging the fire-talisman."
Are the medicine and the fire the same, or are they different?
Someone said: "Medicine and fire can be discussed separately, and they can also be discussed together. When discussed separately, the two are different. When discussed together, they are one and the same. Why is this so? Taken separately, the medicine (yao) is prior-heaven Qi, and the fire (huo) is prior-heaven Shen. Taken together, the medicine is the fire, and the fire is the medicine.
One who understands only their unity, without grasping their distinction, will not clearly know how to gather the medicine. One who understands only their distinction, without grasping their unity, will have no basis for the method of nourishing. Why? When gathering, the medicine is outside and the fire is inside. The fire is used to draw the medicine in, so medicine and fire can be discussed separately. When nourishing, the medicine comes from outside and returns into the body. Only after the medicine is obtained is the fire applied, so medicine and fire can be discussed together.
In general, the fire is the governing factor. If the fire timing (huohou) is too urgent, the elixir (dan) will be harmed. If the fire timing is too cold, the elixir will dissipate. Broadly speaking, to speak only of fire without medicine refers to the ten months of nourishing. To speak only of medicine without fire refers to the work of a single moment or half an hour. As for the saying of Perfected Master Zixiao, a Daoist immortal, 'refining the medicine with fire to form the elixir,' this means using Shen to command Qi in order to attain the Dao. Put this way, the meaning is clearer and more precise."
On Drawing Lead and Adding Mercury
Someone asked: "Could you explain to me the essential principle of drawing lead and adding mercury (chouqian tianhong), the internal alchemy term for regulating yin and yang and circulating jing and Qi?"
Someone said: "I heard Master Liyang explain that once the medicinals have been returned to the cauldron, they must be nourished with natural true fire, kept gentle and continuous, as if present and yet barely there. The alternating withdrawal and replenishment all happen of their own accord, and not the slightest trace of human contrivance may be mixed in. The Dao itself is non-action (wuwei), and the spirit (shen) and qi turn naturally on their own. This is the subtle mystery of the creative transformation of things."
"Like steaming rice to make a meal," the scripture (jing) says. The phrase carries deeper meaning and is not merely a comparison meant to show that something is easy. Lead poured into mercury is like water poured into rice. The water must not be too much, nor the rice too little; the two must be matched in a fixed proportion. When the fire is regulated evenly, the water gradually steams away and the grains gradually swell, and the meal is made. The drying of the water corresponds to "drawing out the lead" (chōu qiān), and the swelling of the grains corresponds to "adding the mercury" (tiān gǒng).
"Drawing out" does not mean subtracting anything from within. It means the spirit enters the qi, as the qi of Heaven moves across the Earth, with its inner principle hidden and unrevealed. "Adding" does not mean increasing anything from without. It means the qi enfolds the spirit, as the qi of Earth receives the qi of Heaven, nourishing and growing it little by little. Through this cultivation, a complete embryo forms and the spirit is transformed, reaching the state of "a body outside the body." The subtle mystery of creative transformation can indeed reach such a point. All of this arises naturally, and yet no one can explain why it is so.
If, at this moment, one deliberately inquires into how to draw out and how to add, one falls into purposeful action and is no longer natural. "Naturalness" also carries deeper meaning. My teacher once told me: "Following nature does not mean being at the mercy of nature." These words are indeed profound!
Discourse on the Remaining Sayings
Someone asked: "The various alchemical manuals speak of red lead, black mercury, the Azure Dragon, the White Tiger, white snow, the yellow sprout, the Wood Lord, the Golden Mother, the infant and the maiden, the yellow..."
Someone asked: "The alchemical classics name Red Lead, Black Mercury, Azure Dragon, White Tiger, White Snow, Yellow Sprout, Wood Father, Metal Mother, Infant and Maiden, and Yellow Matron. The names differ, the wording differs, and there are too many to count. You have now set all of these aside. Have you left something out?"
The answer was: "No. Please listen quietly. I was once a Confucian scholar who studied the chapter-and-verse commentaries. Later I began to seek the mysterious Way and wanted insights that earlier generations had not reached. By chance I had the opportunity to receive the authentic methods of the Dao (the Way), and gradually I came to understand the essential path of cultivation. I knew the names I just listed well from my earlier reading, and I had studied them carefully. But remembering one meant forgetting another, and this left me blocked at every turn. Only later did I realize that the Great Dao is not complicated and can be exhausted in a single sentence.
The Dao is nothing beyond Yin-Yang: Yin is Jing (essence), Yang is Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) governs both Jing and Qi. Therefore Shen, Qi, and Jing are the three essentials of the superior elixir. The alternate names in the alchemical classics, such as dragon and tiger, lead and mercury, are all framed in terms of these three. The immortals of antiquity left these expressions because they did not wish to reveal the methods lightly. They deliberately used winding, veiled language and set up many different paths, so that those who aspired to cultivate would grasp the principles from the text and then draw the essential meaning from the multitude of explanations. When a practitioner has worked diligently over a long period, the innate true nature (tianzhen zhi xing) gradually accumulates, understanding suddenly opens, and one can set aside the bonds of words and metaphors and directly see the root."
Someone else asked: "The Xuanfu gives many different accounts, letting those who aspire to cultivate grasp the principles from the text and draw the essential meaning from the multitude. When the innate true nature has accumulated over a long time and understanding suddenly opens, one can set aside words and directly see the root."
And someone asked again: "The Xuanfu discusses external elixirs (waidan) at length. But it rarely mentions methods such as gathering the medicinals (caiyao) and copulation (jiaogou). What should learners rely on when they explain these practices?"
He said: "The gathering and mating (caiqu jiaogou) is the profound mechanism that Taishang (the honorific title for the supreme deity in Daoism) has kept secret, and it is the essential principle that sages of every generation have transmitted from mind to mind. It is not that I do not wish to state it plainly, but my teacher's admonitions were extremely stern, so each time I take up the brush I feel anxious and afraid. Yet in what I have said earlier, I seem to have already pointed out the key, folding it into subtle words so that readers may not notice. The Cantong Qi (Kindred of the Three, an important Daoist alchemical classic) says: 'Read it over and over a thousand times, and its meaning will gradually become clear; read it ten thousand times, and you will see its profound import.' Those who aspire to learning, if they can read repeatedly and study with care, will find the subtle principles appearing. But without the urgent longing of one who seeks and cannot obtain, how would one know that the Great Dao is hard to hear? Without the wondrous moment when minds meet and joy arises from understanding, how would one know why my words are so worth savoring? Enough, enough. For now I will keep my mouth shut."
Golden Elixir Clarified (Jindan Jiuzheng Pian)
Preface (Xu)
I have read over ten thousand volumes of alchemical classics (danjing), and whenever they speak of the great medicine (dayao) for longevity, they all insist that it can only be refined after obtaining the "True Yi Qi of Primordial Heaven" (xiantian zhenyi zhi qi), the primordial qi said to generate the great medicine. When asked where this qi comes from, the books always answer that it comes from "that place" (bichu). But returning to our own bodies, could it be that we alone lack this qi and must search for it in "that place"? Those who believe this account are fewer than one or two in ten, while those who doubt it number in the hundreds and thousands.
From my youth I devoted myself single-mindedly to the Dao (Dao), but I felt my roots dull and my capacity slow, and I never grasped the profound meaning within. Occasionally I picked up the Cantong qi (Kinship of the Three) and the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality), but their language was so obscure that I could not continue. Later, when I annotated Yu Yan's commentary edition, I followed his guidance and understood the texts as the Dao of pure stillness and non-action (qingjing wuwei). Whenever a passage described cultivation outside the body, I dismissed it as a heterodox path (pangmen), and I took terms such as "golden cauldron" (jinding) and "fire tokens" (huofu) to refer only to methods of stoking a furnace. I held to this first view and would not be persuaded otherwise.
Alas, if these classics truly taught only pure stillness and non-action, I do not understand why shallow people would laugh so loudly, or why slander arose so easily. When I reached this point in my reading, I could not help but feel doubt.
In the dingwei year of the Jiajing reign (1547), I met by chance, through a fortunate convergence of circumstances, my Dharma ancestor, Master Lü, at the Thatched Hall by the Northern Sea. We were warm and at ease with one another, and he bestowed upon me xuanli (a sweet, numinous liquid in Daoist usage) and comforted me with gentle words. Such a meeting, fortunate beyond a single lifetime, comes perhaps once in a thousand years. Master Lü encouraged me with the supreme Dao, beginning with the teaching that the Dao is formed through the union of Yin and Yang (Yin-Yang). At the time I foolishly asked him about the views of the Sanfeng school, and he refuted them.
Later, Master Lü transmitted to me the Jietai ge (Song of Embryo Formation) and the essentials of entering the chamber for practice. He also spoke at length of subtle meanings and profound principles, enough to fill many scrolls. I recorded and preserved all of it, but I understood only the literal words and could not explain them thoroughly. Twenty years passed in this way, and I nearly failed my teacher's kindness.
In the twelfth lunar month of the jiazi year, I was living in seclusion in the wilds when I saw my temples turning white in the mirror, and I was overcome with sorrow. I lamented that my work was not yet accomplished and that time waits for no one. Then, remembering that my revered teacher had instructed me in a dream to abandon the views I had clung to and adopt new ones, I was greatly awakened. I recalled most of the teachings I had heard long ago, perhaps eight or nine in ten, and I compared them with the alchemical classics, treatises, and verses, reasoning through them again and again and savoring them closely. Then, in the midst of sleep, my mind suddenly became clear and open, as if I had grasped something, and so I wrote this essay.
Confucius said, "Review the old, and you will discover the new." What I have reviewed now is what I studied in the past, yet the understanding I have gained is new. These views may be merely my own passing conjectures, and I do not yet dare to submit them to those of true understanding for correction. But I hope they do not greatly depart from my teacher's original intent.
Postscript
This was the year of Jiazi, on the day of the last quarter moon in the twelfth lunar month. Qianxuzi wrote this preface.
In golden elixir cultivation, one must first refine the self (lianji), which means cultivating the mind-nature and restraining deluded thoughts. The refining of the self was my own conjecture at the time, and I have not had the chance to ask an accomplished Daoist for correction. I hope it has not departed from my teacher's original intent.
Once the self is refined, the mind and will can settle. When the mind and will settle, the breath can come to rest, and when the breath rests, the essence and qi can gather. This is like a people at peace and a state made prosperous, so that a single campaign suffices to pacify the realm. My teacher once told me: "If a person can cultivate in stillness and purity for a hundred days, that person can become an embryonic immortal (taixian), a immortal gestated through internal alchemy." Cultivating the mind for a hundred days, one may obtain the medicine in a moment, and after ten months of refining through the fire times (huohou), one can cast off the mortal womb, transform the spirit, and change the body to become an immortal. Is this not very easy? Yet in the world, such people are ultimately hard to find. Why is this so?
Those with shallow foundations hear of the Great Dao but do not believe it, and those with meager learning, even when they practice and verify it, struggle to gain true understanding. Some blind and ignorant masters lead others carelessly, turning east into west, unable even to tell the states of Yue and Yan apart, or black from white. When someone occasionally asks them about the Cantong qi (Kinship of the Three) and the Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality), they refuse to explain the texts line by line. Instead, they say the words in these books are old doctrines that are easy to come by, and that only the oral instructions are rare. They further claim there are secret methods for opening the hidden gates and techniques for leaving the body and mingling breaths.
Seekers eager for the Dao, hearing such words, long only for swift attainment and lucky success. They burn incense, swear oaths to Heaven, and sincerely request instruction, bringing money with them. A few phrases enter their ears and sink deep into their minds, while the Cantong qi and the Wuzhen pian are set aside. They do not realize that the principle by which yin and yang, things of the same kind, respond to and unite with each other, when followed, is the ordinary way of common people, and when reversed, is the way of becoming an immortal. All of this is natural and spontaneous, not produced through cunning contrivance. The Wuzhen pian says: "Do not use the mind's cunning effort to act." The Cantong qi also says: "This is the natural working, and there is no deviant way in it." When the ancient immortals left words to guide the world, did they ever deliberately conceal anything? They never spoke of opening hidden gates or of leaving the body to mingle breaths. From this we know that if one does not add extra branches and complications, the true path of cultivation appears precious. The obstruction of the Great Dao is precisely the work of these people. It is lamentable that the world mistakes fish eyes for pearls and treats ordinary stones of Yan as treasures, loving only minor arts and refusing to distinguish the depth of the Dao's methods.
My teacher once told me that the Cantong qi and the Wuzhen pian are the ladder by which one enters the Dao. Yet their language is veiled and their meaning profound, so they are not easy to analyze. I studied them devotedly for twenty years before I gradually came to understand them with clarity. I was not born with this comprehension. It came entirely from long contemplation and investigation, and also because my teacher's words could be confirmed by what I found in the books. Since I have gained some understanding, I dared not keep it to myself, so I have written this essay and ask accomplished Daoists to correct it. However, what is said here is only an outline. As for the subtle essentials of entering the chamber for practice, and the detailed methods of the internal and external fire times, the two books already explain them. How could I dare to add more elaboration!
Someone asked Qianxuzi, "The alchemical classics speak of the primordial One Qi (xiantian yiqi), which must be sought within one's own kind. Why is this?"
Qianxuzi replied, "I have heard my teacher say that the Golden Elixir (jindan) can only be accomplished through the union of Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang are a man and a woman, Li and Kan, lead and mercury. Lead and mercury are the medicines used in refining the Great Elixir: the true qi of the Kan trigram is called lead, and the true jing of the Li trigram is called mercury. The primordial jing is stored within my own body, while the primordial qi is obtained from the other. Why do I say this? The other belongs to Kan, which is yin outside and yang inside, symbolizing water and the moon, and in the human body it corresponds to a woman. I belong to Li, which is yang outside and yin inside, symbolizing fire and the sun, and in the human body it corresponds to a man. Therefore, the Way of male and female Yin-Yang, when it runs in its natural order, produces a human being, and when it runs in reverse, refines the elixir. The fundamental principle is the same."
Someone else asked, "The Yijing states that Kan is the middle son and Li is the middle daughter. Here you say that you belong to Li. Why is this?"
Qianxuzi replied, "This is based on the trigram positions of the Xiantian (Former Heaven) diagram. Shao Yong said, 'The refined qi of Yin and Yang each conceal themselves within the other.' The Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) divides into the two modes of Yin and Yang, the two modes divide into four images, and the four images evolve into the Bagua (Eight Trigrams). In the Former Heaven arrangement, Li is assigned to Qian and Kan is assigned to Kun. Li and Kan are the trigrams formed when Qian and Kun unite, just as men and women are the bodily forms formed when Yin and Yang unite. Thus, when Qian and Kun unite, Yin arises within Qian to become Li, and Yang arises within Kun to become Kan. When man and woman unite, Yin must contain Yang, and Yang must also contain Yin. This is the reason Kan and Li are matched respectively with 'the other' and 'myself.'"
"So then, the Yin essence at the center of the Li trigram and the Yang qi at the center of the Kan trigram: does my own body not already contain these essences and qi, so that I must instead take them from external things?"
"That is indeed so, but the principle is not yet fully explained. I was once deeply entangled in the teaching of the old man Yuwu, and only today have I come to understand it. Please listen quietly while I try to explain.
I have heard my teacher say, 'When the two qualities of Yin and Yang intertwine, they mysteriously condense into form.' Thus a person is born. At the very beginning, a person is simple and whole, not yet carved or refined, and fully possesses the totality of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate, the source of all things). Laozi said, 'One whose De (Virtue) is deep is like an infant.' An infant does not yet know anything of sexual union, yet his genitals may become erect. This is because his Jing (essence) is abundant to the utmost. He may cry all day without his voice growing hoarse. This is because his body and mind are harmonized to the utmost. This is the state of pure harmony of Yin and Yang.
At that time, a person's innate substance is complete and whole. Why would it need to take anything from outside, or deliberately add to it? If one can cultivate while preserving this state, what need is there to add anything to the supreme De of Wuwei (non-action) and naturalness?
When desire arises and Yin and Yang respond to and unite with one another, the prior-heaven Qi scatters and escapes, falling into the Kun trigram. Thus the Qian trigram, originally pure Yang with three unbroken lines, is damaged and becomes the Li trigram. Li symbolizes the sun, and when the sun slants westward it signifies decline. In old age one can only sigh, so how could life be long sustained? Therefore the elixir method takes Kan. To 'take Kan' means to restore the broken Qian trigram, to fill the empty line, and to return to the original body of pure Yang. This is what the immortals call the Returning Elixir (Huandan)."
The questioner asked: "The Li trigram in my own body is formed only after the prior-heaven Qi has scattered. Before that Qi scattered, it originally belonged to the Kun trigram. If so, why is it said to be Kan?"
Someone asked, "This is a good question. When Heaven and Earth first opened in chaos, the Kun body (the image of pure yin) reached the period of the second seven, and yang qi began to stir within it. A sudden movement of yang within pure Kun: is this not Kan? So Kan represents yang within yin, the state in which the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji), at the extreme of stillness, naturally begins to move. This is called Xiantian (Prior Heaven). Heaven generates Water, and the True Yi Qi (the primordial true qi) is hidden within Kan, like a mother concealed in the womb, for water contains metal. To refine the Golden Elixir (Jindan), one must take the true qi from within Kan. This is the source of the medicinal substances, and also the ladder by which one ascends to the Dao of cultivation."
"Yin within yang is mainly about movement, so when taking from Kan one need only watch for the moment it stirs. Yang within yin is mainly about guarded stillness, so after filling Li, one must nourish it in stillness. Those who understand when to move and when to be still, and never miss the right moment, are perhaps only the sages. The sage observes the Way of Heaven and takes stillness as primary, which is why one nourishes in stillness after filling Li. Only the sage understands movement and stillness and grasps the moment. The sage is one who observes the Way of Heaven and acts in accordance with it. Therefore the waxing and waning of the moon may be compared to the changing ripeness of the medicinal substances, and the rising and setting of the sun symbolizes the waxing and waning of the fire-timing (huohou). When the medicine and the fire-timing accord, the Golden Elixir is completed. Once the elixir is complete, one may shed the embryonic form and transform into spirit."
Another asked, "You have described only the Way of Houtian (Later Heaven). Is there anything to say about the Way of Xiantian?"
The answer: "I once investigated this through the Yijing (Book of Changes), which says: 'The essences condense and become the myriad things; the wandering spirits disperse and bring about transformation.' Yin within yang is called qi, and yang within yin is called jing (essence). The two depend on each other, and from them the myriad things arise.
I once observed the order in which Yin and Yang move. When jing arrives first and qi follows, yin enfolds yang and a female is produced. When qi stirs first and jing follows, yang enfolds yin and a male is produced. From this it is clear that the distinction of Li as male and Kan as female does not appear only after the body has formed. It is already fixed at the first receiving of qi.
The Way of the Golden Elixir is formed through the union of Yin and Yang. The human path follows the course of Yin and Yang, while the path of the immortals reverses it, taking the medicine from Kan and refining the elixir in Li. What doubt could remain?"
Someone asked: "Our bodies are made up of earth, water, fire, and wind, the four great elements (the four basic elements that constitute the human body), and all of them belong to yin. Yet the body sometimes stirs into motion. Does this not also belong to yang? The Way of cultivating immortality values 'reverse extraction': one takes the medicinal substance from Kan (the trigram symbolizing water, the kidneys, and so on) and refines the elixir in Li (the trigram symbolizing fire, the heart, and so on). What is there to doubt in this?"
Middle Section
Someone asked: "Our bodies are composed of the four great elements, so the whole is yin. When the body stirs, does it not belong to yang?"
The answer was: "Li is associated with fire and the sun. Movement belongs to yang, but its root lies in yin, which is why it is said that 'fire is yang and its root is yin.' Consider how a spark of numinous light flickers and cannot be controlled. The yang qi within our bodies is the same, and so it often suffers from the fault of galloping away out of control. The sages knew this, so they take the Zhenyi (True Unity) water of Kan, the Prior Heaven true qi stored within Kan, and use it to restrain the yang qi. When desire flares within and essence and qi scatter outward, it is like a fire burning beneath a cauldron, with water boiling inside it. By drawing on the Prior Heaven Zhenyi qi to gather in one's essence and qi, which surge and easily disperse, it is like dipping water from a jar to quench the boiling water in the pot. There is nothing that cannot be calmed."
Someone asked further: "Then may we also hear about the method of taking from Kan?"
The answer was: "The heavenly mechanism lies deep and hidden. Without the guidance of a master, who would dare to divulge it carelessly? I will offer a brief hint and let you grasp the rest for yourself. The Book of Changes says that thunder is hidden within the earth, corresponding to the Fu hexagram (Return). When yang qi suddenly stirs within the heavy yin of the earth, this is the root of creation and the pivot of all growth and transformation in the myriad things. When Confucius studied the Changes and reached this passage, he sighed: 'In the Fu hexagram, perhaps the original mind of Heaven and Earth is revealed!' The Cantongqi (Kinship of the Three, a classic of Daoist alchemy) also says: 'The Changes encompasses the heart of Heaven, and the Fu hexagram establishes the beginning of the myriad things.' It further says: 'Issue commands in accordance with the seasons, and do not miss the moment when the lines stir.' These passages express this very principle. Once one understands that thunder hidden in the earth forms the Fu hexagram, one can see that yang qi is born within yin, and that Zhenyi qi is also stored there. These principles can be grasped without further explanation."
Someone else asked: "When medicinal substances form, the alchemical classics often use the image of 'the Geng appearing on the third day' as a metaphor. Could you explain what this means?"
Someone said: "The Kan hexagram symbolizes the moon, and the moon belongs to Taiyin (the Great Yin). It shows its brightness only after receiving the light of the sun. On the third day, when the moon first appears as a crescent, yang qi begins to stir, just as the Fu (Return) hexagram represents the rebirth of yang. On the eighth day, the moon reaches its first quarter, shining upon the two yang lines, and the moonlight in the east grows stronger until it reaches the stage of sanyang kaitai (the Three Yang ascending and bringing peace). When the moon wanes to its last quarter, this symbolizes the decline of yang, and at the end of the month, in the dark of the moon, yang is exhausted. The Bo (Splitting) and Fu hexagrams revolve in a cycle. When an ending is reached, a new beginning follows, so on the third day the moon appears again. The regularity of heaven and earth's transformations works in this same way. The method of alchemy takes its images from the changes of the moon, and it is used to judge whether the medicinal materials are ripe or still immature."
"My master once told me: 'Only on moonlit nights does the medicine in the furnace take form.' He also said: 'Clear and pure as snow reflected in an icy pool, when the new moon first appears at the tips of the plum branches, the medicine begins to form.' The heavenly secrets and subtle mysteries are all contained in these words. In the past I grasped the meaning of my master's words but could not express it thoroughly. Now I suddenly understand, and only then do I realize how deep my master's kindness is. It is as though he lifted the sun and moon so that I could see the principles within."
Someone asked: "Medicinal materials come in ripe and unripe states. How exactly should they be used?"
Someone said: "The Golden Elixir (jindan), the essence that internal alchemy (Neidan) cultivation seeks, is condensed from the True Yi Qi, the originary Qi that has not yet divided into Heaven and Earth and has not yet taken form. Prior-to-Heaven Qi is light, clear, and formless, and it is the purest of all Yang Qi. When it first appears it is extremely subtle, yet its wonder is hard to fathom. Therefore one must gather it swiftly at the moment the Gui (Water) phase first arises, and put it to use within a single focused thought, holding it for a brief moment. If one is slower, it will produce impurities and turn toward Posterior-to-Heaven, and the Qi that was originally Yang will reverse into Yin.
The Wuzhen Pian says, 'When you see it, it cannot be used,' meaning that the moment has already passed. It also says, 'In a flash the fire-smoke rises, and the True Person appears of itself,' which speaks precisely of the need to seize it quickly. Alas, the subtleties of the process of creation: apart from the sage, who can know them? And who could put them to use?"
Part Two
Someone asked: "The subtleties of creation can be employed only by sages. We are not sages. If we wish to use them, where does the key lie?"
Did not our teacher say, "True earth (zhen tu) captures true lead (zhen qian), and true lead subdues true mercury (zhen gong)"? Here, "true earth" refers to "self-earth" (ji tu), that is, the practitioner's own intention and disposition. A person who gathers medicinals in cultivation and does not first refine the self-earth will easily lose the numinous mercury (ling hong), and the practice will struggle to succeed. Instead, it will bring hardship and humiliation. The phrase "laying the foundation and refining the self" (zhuji lianji) in the Jing refers to exactly this.
The "self" (ji) shows itself in a person as intention, and it is also called "self-nature" (ji xing). It moves among the four images (si xiang), the patterns of change formed by Yin-Yang and the Five Phases, and it has no fixed place, which is why it is called "earth." Golden Elixir (jin dan) cultivation depends on it from beginning to end. When seeking lead to make the medicine, one meets it with the self's intention. When gathering the fire and entering the cauldron, one guides it with the self's intention. In boiling, refining, and bathing, one keeps it through the self's intention. In nourishing and in the sloughing of the embryo, it is also the self's intention that brings completion. Only when the mind is correct and the intention sincere can one cultivate the self, govern the state, and bring peace to all under heaven. This is the key to refining the elixir. The Cantong qi (Kinship of the Three) says, "Turn the grain-axis correctly," and also, "Stand true at the polar place." The ancient immortals repeatedly warned cultivators, and their instructions appear in more than one place.
Moreover, people are born from their parents through desire and feeling, so the temperamental nature (qizhi zhi xing) often stirs with emotion when moved by external things. If the refining of the self has not been effective and the six sense-organs (the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) are not yet settled, then when one enters the chamber to cultivate, and the crucial working begins to appear...
My parents came together through desire, so a person's temperament and nature always give rise to feelings when they meet external things. If there is no skill in lianji (refining the self, settling the mind and spirit), and the six roots (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) are not yet stilled, then the moment one enters the chamber of cultivation and the crucial point appears, the nature will be stirred and desire will flare, and the chanü (a Neidan, or internal alchemy, term often used for the mind-spirit or the yin-natured true qi) will flee. How, then, could one seize the pearl from beneath the black dragon's chin with a single talisman in a single instant? The pearl beneath the black dragon's chin is a metaphor for the crucial thing in cultivation that is hard to obtain.
The Commentary says: "To probe the tiger's den and pull the tiger's whiskers is nearly to fall into the tiger's mouth! How perilous! Without great wisdom, one cannot see through this matter; without great strength, one cannot obtain it." My master told me: "The rutou jing (the mirror used at the threshold of practice to reflect one's original mind) is within your own heart. If the heart cannot become empty and still, the images it faces will not be real." Alas, perhaps the principle of emptying the heart is the very key to lianji?
The Scripture of Purity and Stillness (Qingjing Jing) says: "Looking inward at one's own mind, one finds that the mind has no fixed mind; looking outward at one's own form, one finds that the form has no fixed form; looking far at external things, one finds that they too have no fixed substance. Once mind, form, and things have all been seen through, there is only emptiness. Even the emptied object does not exist, and even 'nothingness' does not exist." This is what is meant by emptying the heart, and it is also the great liberation and great rest that lianji attains. Therefore the text continues: "Always still, always responsive." Being always still is the proof that lianji has succeeded; being always responsive is the seeking of the function of qian (a Neidan term for the key medicinal or essential qi sought in cultivation).
My master once gave me a line, "yuexi lu zhong yao" (medicine in the furnace on a moonlit evening), and asked me to answer with a matching line. I was at a loss. My master then answered himself with "feng hua zuo shang hui" (ash on the seat amid wind and blossoms). People often linger over scenes of wind, flowers, snow, and moon, and when they face such things they give rise to feeling, busy themselves receiving one external condition after another. My master likened all of these to ash on a seat, meaning that when facing external things one is not moved by them, forgets the self and forgets things, and does not even cling to "forgetting." In this way my master made clear both the timing for gathering medicine and the essentials of lianji. Previously I had grasped only the general meaning of his words; only now am I able to explain them clearly.
Someone who heard this rose joyfully and said: "If I had not heard your words, I would never have grasped the essentials of the Great Dao. Please allow me to take my leave, so that I may go back and cultivate my nature and mind."
After Lu Zi had learned the teaching of nature and life (xingming zhi xue, the study of human nature and the cultivation of life) from the Sacred Master, people from many places came to seek instruction. When Lu Zi sat down to talk with them and found their views did not agree, the two sides went back and forth in debate.
Someone criticized Lu Zi, saying: "Laozi once said, 'Those who know do not speak; those who speak do not know. Those who are good at the Dao (the Way) do not argue; those who love to argue are not good.' Now you discuss principles with others and pour out words without stopping. Is this not simply wasting words and harming De (Virtue/Power)?"
Lu Zi replied: "I do admit my fault. Still, allow me to explain this saying. In the past, the doctrines of Yang Zhu and Mozi flourished and obstructed the Way of benevolence and righteousness, so Mencius refuted them with words. Gongsun Chou asked Mencius, 'People outside all say you love to debate. May I ask why?' Mencius answered, 'How could I love debate? I simply have no choice!'
"In an age when the Dao prevails, people's words and learning do not diverge, and the sage can forget both self and others beyond the realm of speech. But the people of the world may not all grasp the sage's intent, and the sage worries about this, so the sage must set down words to transmit the Dao. The Yinfu Jing (Scripture of the Hidden Seal), the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Its De), the Cantong Qi (Kinship of the Three), and the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) are all proofs by which the sages verified the great Dao, and they were written so that the way of benevolence might be passed down to later generations throughout the world.
"Yet some arrogant teachers and ignorant people, unable to inherit the teachings of the sacred scriptures and unable to comprehend their classics, nonetheless set forth their own opinions at will, using heterodox doctrines to delude the world. They corrupt people's hearts and disturb the proper Way, and what greater calamity could there be than this? It is like someone in a place untouched by sunlight being led into a valley by mountain spirits (shanxiao) or wild foxes. If a person sees this, they will surely cry out loudly and do their utmost to chase after them, fearing that the one who has been deluded will die inside without ever knowing it. Faced with such a situation, how could anyone keep silent out of concern for their own reputation? If I am labeled self-righteous and fond of winning arguments, then for a long time I will have no way to make my true intent known to the world."
Pò Wěi Lùn (Refuting False Cultivation Techniques)
People in the world love minor arts but fail to distinguish between Dao methods that are profound and those that are shallow, so reckless and deceitful individuals are able to practice their cheating schemes without restraint. The mysteries of the Dao are deep and hard to fathom, and people cannot fully investigate them. Yet they have no clear standard in their hearts, so they are easily deceived.
Let me briefly list some of the false arts in the world. Some people concoct the fetus of a pregnant woman to abstain from grains (bigu). Some take medicines such as arsenic and sulfur to ward off cold. Some use lead swords to open the orifices. Some raise sacred tortoises so that their bodies can stretch and contract at will. Some shake their shoulders and backs, producing faint rustling sounds. Some strike their skulls to produce resonant echoes. Some sit cross-legged without moving, like stone. Some puff out their bellies with a sound like thunder. Some hang upside down like apes and sleep coiled like dragons. Some spin lightly like the wind yet hold their breath. Some run swiftly like monkeys, so fast that no one can catch them. Such tricks cannot be enumerated in full. They have nothing to do with the true Dao. Mostly they are displays of clumsy skill, used to cover up mysterious deception. As Perfected Sima said, this is "hiding cleverness in the heart in order to seek temporary gain."
Waidan (external alchemy), which refines elixirs by means of furnace fire, is especially full of falsehood. Some people attach silver essence to their bodies so that it appears to undergo exchanges and transformations with metal and stone. So-called methods of "pursuing and gathering" are also numerous in the world. Students of the Dao who do not understand the reasons behind these tricks believe them to be true, thinking this is the power to transmute metals and stones. This is wrong! Wrong!
Next, some people use techniques such as "dingda tengnuo" to stage thefts right before one's eyes: calling a deer a horse so the owner does not notice, or swapping a sheep for an ox so that bystanders do not perceive it. Further still, some people blindly fire and smelt, exhausting their firewood and losing their money, wasting days in vain and adding to their worries, and achieving nothing in the end. It is not that the Dao misleads people. It is that people fail to discern the Dao.
Alas! Those who cannot distinguish the depth of the Dao yet call themselves lovers of the Dao, and those who cannot tell whether their master is genuine yet claim to have met an enlightened teacher, allow reckless and deceitful people, with thick faces, to end up occupying high positions, while they themselves step forward to bow and kowtow. What could be more shameful than this? Therefore I have written this discourse, hoping that all who share the aspiration and love the Dao will treasure it: stop false thoughts early, and seek the true principle early. Otherwise, I will be unable to urge you further.
Pò Zhí Lùn (Refuting Attachment)
Anything that is cut open or unsealed spoils, and cannot be kept for long. I say this to all who share the aspiration and love cultivating the Dao: guard yourselves carefully, quiet your false thoughts early, and seek the truth without delay. Otherwise, by the time I crack my whip to urge you on, it will already be too late.
On Breaking Attachment
Melons and fruits, along with vinegar and wine that people consume, all spoil once they are cut open or their seals are broken, and they cannot be kept for long. A damaged human body is no different. The sages understood this principle, and so they sought what is called the xiantian zhenyi (True Yi of Prior Heaven), the original vital breath that precedes transformation and has the power to generate and nourish, in order to replenish the self.
Those who speak today of Prior Heaven mostly seal the orifices of a body that has already been damaged, then gather and harmonize the various substances within it, hoping to bring the true Yi breath back into being. They take this as the method of longevity and enduring life. They do not realize that once the original body is broken, the jing (essence), qi (vital energy), and shen (spirit) within it gradually change and fall into the state of Posterior Heaven. How then could the true Yi breath be preserved? This is like hiding fruit that has already rotted, or putting away vinegar and wine whose seals have been opened, and expecting them not to spoil. Is that not very difficult?
This principle is very clear, and anyone can understand it. Observe from the nearest case, which is oneself, and infer from the farthest, which is the myriad things, and simple examples will suffice to explain it. The principle of the huandan (Returning Elixir), the process of returning to the origin and condensing the elixir in internal alchemy, is recorded in the alchemical classics. Yet learners have not studied these texts thoroughly or reflected on them carefully. They rely on a word or half a sentence, speak as soon as they hear something, and then speak again. Believing they have received the true transmission and grasped the method of practice, they remain attached to it all their lives. They cultivate only a single aspect and never understand the principle behind it. This is truly pitiful. Out of compassion for these people, I have written this discourse.
The ancient immortals said: "The form is preserved through the Dao, and nature and life are prolonged through technique." Today, those who talk about the Dao are everywhere, but where are the concrete methods of cultivation? Please consider this carefully.
On Refuting Heterodoxy
Those who speak today of "the same kind" (tónglèi) hold many different views, and I list them all here. The so-called "Nine-and-One Arts" (jiǔ yī zhī shù) are heterodox doctrines and need not be discussed. Some speak of the "Prenatal Plum" (xiāntiān méizi) teaching, which sounds like chasing shadows and grasping at wind, plausible yet mistaken. A few of its claims may sound credible, but they all concern things with form and substance, and in practice they differ from what the world calls "red lead" (hóng qiān) only in name, not in method. To take these as the great Dao is, I fear, not correct.
As for the teachings of "separating form and exchanging qi" (lí xíng jiāo qì), "the two orifices of the field" (xū tián liǎng qiào), "opening the gate and forging the sword" (kāi guān zhù jiàn), and "advancing upward and advancing downward" (shàng jìn xià jìn): some are called "coiled peaches" (pán táo) because they run against common sense; some have practitioners take dates and sweet dew; some boil broken porcelain and iron into a liquor; some take the sexual fluids of men and women and blend and brew them; and others add "autumn stone" (qiū shí) and call the result "human origin" (rényuán). These methods are numerous in name, and most come from deviant teachers and shallow scholars who blindly lead the blind and exhaust their whole lives. Their hair turns white and they still achieve nothing, while they corrupt De (Virtue) and harm the body, becoming objects of ridicule in the world. This is truly lamentable.
Moreover, the "prenatal qi" (xiāntiān zhī qì) arises from emptiness. It cannot be seen or heard, nor touched by hand. Methods of conjecture, of contriving to coax it out, and of searching far and wide only take one further and further away from it. Where, then, is the claim of weighing its "floating and sinking, grains and taels" (fú chén zhū liǎng) today? From what I have heard, these doctrines differ from true principle as sharply as the fragrant herb xūn and the foul herb yóu, and they cannot be kept in the same vessel.
Laozi said: "Because I am not understood by the world, therefore no one understands me." If there were in the world someone truly able to grasp the principle in these words, my Dao would not stand alone.
Pò Yí Lùn (On Dispelling Doubts)
Someone objects: "The saying goes, 'One can grasp the mystery from a sentence or half a sentence; why bother reading thousands of alchemical classics (danjing)?' This suggests the words of the ancients are not worth much. Yet you teach people to read many danjing, so that they fully understand Yin-Yang and deeply grasp the transformations of nature. Wouldn't this waste time and let people's hearing and seeing cloud their original mind? If I grasp the master's intent, I can follow the Dao from a word or half a word. Why read so many books?"
The reply runs: "Your words sound reasonable, but you do not know that the Dao has its orthodox and heterodox forms, and that masters can be genuine or false. You have never had the discerning eye to tell right from wrong, so how would you judge? Consider an analogy. To test gold, one must use a touchstone. The danjing are the touchstone for judging the masters of the present age. If a person does not think carefully or read the danjing repeatedly, and instead seeks the Dao from a master on the strength of a word or half a word, few will avoid falling into heterodox practices or being misled by deviant teachings.
Long ago, a man wanted to go to the capital. Along the way he asked people for directions, but each gave a different account, and this frightened him so that he dared not set out. Then one day, at a market, he found a route book and took it with him. The lodgings, the places of trade, and the order of passes, ferry crossings, and inns along the road were all exact. Only then did he realize that the gap between written records and oral rumor was greater than heaven and earth.
The danjing are the route books for entering the Dao. To set them aside and instead ask today's masters for scattered fragments of words is like discarding the route book and asking passersby for directions. How could one who tries to reach the capital this way avoid going astray? Moreover, so-called secret instructions given in a word or half a word are held only by true masters. You seek a master, but where are the true masters to be found?"
— from Pò Yú Lùn (Treatise on Breaking Ignorance)
Nowadays, most people who take an interest in cultivating the Dao invite fangshi (masters skilled in alchemy and arts of technique), kindle furnace fires, and hope to transmute metals and minerals into elixirs to be consumed. This is called Waidan (external alchemy), elixirs made by refining substances over furnace fire. They do not realize that these practices arise from deluded thoughts, and that deluded thoughts attract equally false companions. Thus those skilled at deception seize the opportunity, passing off a horse as an ox and cheating people to their faces, while the deceived remain completely unaware. Such people and such affairs are too numerous to count. When I had not yet grasped my master's intent, I too was nearly confused by them. Fortunately, through Heaven's protection I suffered no harm, and so I have written this essay to leave for later generations.
Furnace alchemy is not without foundation. It is, rather, a confirmation of the Way of Neidan (internal alchemy). The Cantong Qi (Kinship of the Three), a Daoist classic that expounds the theory of alchemy, says: "The affairs of the furnace indeed have a root. If one can perceive yin and yang and penetrate deeply the transformations of creation, only then can one see their subtle functions." Comparing furnace alchemy with the refining of the self, that is, the cultivation of one's own mind and nature, the refinement of qi and the combining of medicinal substances follow the same principle, and the processes of gathering, nourishing, and sloughing off the embryo correspond as well. The key lies in discerning what rises and what sinks, and in grasping whether the fire is young or mature. Only when these are achieved may one be said to approach the Dao of the elixir.
Those who now speak of furnace alchemy, however, do not know what lead and mercury refer to, how their quantities should be measured, or where the true earth is to be returned. They readily combine ordinary cinnabar and quicksilver at random, calcine various minerals, and add many herbs to decoct them. Some take "lead flower" to make so-called "water gold." Some take the essence within the cinnabar to make "yellow sulfur," some strip away the cinnabar's shell to make "heavenly glass," and some take "heavenly menses" to nurture and gestate the cinnabar and mercury. Still others gather tin and quarry ores, choose auspicious days and hours, and then proclaim that they have obtained true lead, true mercury, and true earth. These doctrines are a tangle of confusing threads, and few people can tell them apart. They act on their own conjectures and cleverness, each concealing what they call secret treasures and waiting for an opportunity to sell them, while the world does not know what is real and what is false. If people are misled into believing these practices, the expense and harm they cause will be beyond measure.
The Dao of the Golden Elixir (jīndān), the method of refining the Golden Elixir, is held in high regard by Heaven. Once one has obtained it, received the protection of others, and secured both one's technique and one's wealth, that is enough. To sell it to others in order to demand gifts and recompense in return, what reason could there be for that?
To believe someone without discerning whether they are deceiving you, and to follow their methods without examining the principles behind them, is this not foolishness? To be deceived at first and then repeat the same error later, is this not foolishness? To neglect the cultivation of De (Virtue/Power) while vainly seeking blessings one does not deserve, is this not foolishness?
As for exhausting one's family fortune and leaving one's wife and children in hunger, cold, and poverty, never encountering a suitable opportunity, so that success is nearly impossible: even if one were fortunate enough to meet one of the successful adepts foretold by the immortal elder, among ten people there would be no more than one or two. Is this not foolishness? Failing to cultivate De while seeking undeserved blessings will, in the end, exhaust one's family fortune and bring suffering upon one's wife and children, and among ten who attempt it, hardly one will succeed. Alas, how truly perilous this is!
As for external alchemy (wàidān), the art of refining elixirs over the furnace fire, whether it can be carried out depends on the person, and whether it succeeds depends on Heaven. Whether one can comprehend it depends on wisdom, and whether it can coalesce depends on fortune. The secret instructions rest in the master's hands, and whether one can see them clearly depends on one's own discernment; not the slightest part of it can be entrusted to another. If one quietly cultivates De and sincerely associates with like-minded people, so that one's virtue moves Heaven and Earth and one's sincerity communicates with spirits and ghosts, then when the time comes to tend the furnace, errors and calamities will naturally be avoided. Otherwise, even if one's methods are correct and one's mind and eyes are clear, how could one withstand the trials of demonic obstacles?
I have personally experienced these matters and verified them again and again, so I do not dare to conceal them now. I only fear that some will not understand, and will act rashly and without thought, ending up with nothing to show for it and, as a result, growing discouraged and withdrawing. This is not that the Dao has failed people; it is that people have not understood its principles. If one can understand these principles yet knows not to act recklessly, and has the ability to act yet knows not to use it carelessly, and even when using it does not do so for private gain, then that would be better still.
Cultivating the Golden Elixir (jindan, the technical term for internal alchemy, or neidan) depends above all on truly understanding its principles, and also on beginning as early as possible. For this reason, Master Chunyang (Lü Dongbin) said: "Even if you begin practice quickly, it is still too late."
Most people fail to grasp this. Clinging to the claim in the Huangting Jing (Yellow Court Classic) that human life may extend to one hundred and twenty years, they assume they can wait until old age to begin cultivation. They are in the prime of health and comfortable in their circumstances, yet they indulge in romantic love and worldly affairs and are slow to free themselves. They labor day and night, wearing away most of their vital energy. Only when old age and hardship arrive do they turn to the Dao, treating it as a refuge for their final years. They do not realize that time does not wait. Once the opportunity and conditions needed for cultivation are missed, the medicinal materials (the physical and mental foundation required for neidan practice) have already been depleted, and the roots that should support the practice are no longer firm. Even if they later meet a teacher and learn the methods, the right timing and circumstances may already have passed. In the end, with white hair, they have nothing to show for their efforts and can only lament the emptiness of life, which is truly regrettable.
Therefore, Master Ziyang (Zhang Boduan), in the opening of the Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality), compares the passing of time to a spark struck from stone and human life to a floating bubble, using these images to awaken people. His intention is both profound and sincere.
Someone asked about the claim of one hundred and twenty years in the Huangting Jing. The answer was: "In remote antiquity, people were simple and sincere, their affairs uncomplicated, and they married late. It is like rich, fertile land whose strength has not yet been exhausted, so even if sowing is delayed, a harvest can still be obtained. Today, people's physical foundation is already very weak, and cultivation begins late. It is no wonder that, like seedlings that fail to form ears, or ears that fail to bear grain, nothing comes of it. Moreover, the reason the ancients and the moderns cannot be compared lies in the customs of their times. How can we measure the circumstances of antiquity by the people of today?"
Preface to the Diagram of the Great Essentials of the Golden Elixir (Jindan Dazhi Tu)
The alchemical methods of the immortals of ancient times are recorded in alchemical classics, numbering no fewer than a thousand. The more one reads, the more they tend to seem tangled and difficult to follow; to grasp their principles, the key lies in……
The alchemical methods handed down by ancient immortals are recorded in the alchemical classics, in more than a thousand scrolls. The more one reads, the more tangled and difficult they often seem. Only after genuine understanding does one find that their essentials are remarkably simple. In broad terms, observing the Way of Heaven (Tiandao) and grasping the regularities of its operation is enough to summarize the core of the Dan methods.
Yin and Yang working in mutual harmony are the foundation of the Way of Heaven, and the movement of sun and moon and the alternation of day and night are its ongoing operation. The Zhouyi Cantong Qi (Kinship of the Three According with the Changes, commonly abbreviated as the Cantong Qi, a classic on the relationship between alchemy and the principles of the Book of Changes) says: "Heaven and Earth establish their positions, and transformation proceeds within them." Here "transformation" refers to the Li and Kan hexagrams, which are the symbols on which alchemical practice draws. The ancient sages understood this principle. They took Qian and Kun, Heaven and Earth, as the cauldron and furnace, used the crow and the hare to symbolize the medicinal substances, and then, following the rhythms of waxing and waning within them, established the timing of the fire (huohou) and the Yin Talismans (yinfu, principles that govern the sequence and changes of the process). The scripture says: "The sun and moon move by fixed patterns, and greater and lesser each have their set measure. From this the sacred work arises, and from this the spirits become manifest." Ultimately, the essence of the Dan method is to grasp the subtle mechanisms of Heaven and to follow change while also applying its principles in reverse.
This path cannot be fully explained by words alone, nor can it be attained through the written page alone. One must encounter a teacher, receive the oral instructions, and achieve a meeting of minds between teacher and student, so that a single hint brings understanding. What is most to be feared is that a person lacks the root of wisdom needed to penetrate deeply, and so the more eagerly they pursue the Way, the further they stray from it. Others are swayed by plausible-sounding doctrines and cling stubbornly to views they formed in advance. Such errors are like poison in the heart or tattoos in the bone, and I can do nothing about them.
I have been fortunate to meet an enlightened teacher despite my modest abilities, and I have received his guidance over a long period. Heaven has not obstructed me, and so I have suddenly glimpsed the gateway to this teaching. Only then did I realize that to encounter such an opportunity in this age is truly rare across the ages. Seekers of the Way in various regions, believing I could benefit from instruction, brought the teachings each had received from their own masters and compared and examined them with one another. Measured against what I had heard, many of them contradicted it. This is not because the Great Dao itself is divided, but because each school's point of entry differs.
Laozi said: "The Great Dao is very level, yet people are fond of taking shortcuts." The Golden Elixir Way is, from the outset, the simplest and most straightforward. If one deliberately arranges things and layers on elaborate preparations, one falls into deviation and falsehood and runs counter to nature. For this reason, I have drawn diagrams and written this account. I trace the root from which all things come into being, and I directly explain the essentials of cultivating nature and life (xingming). By keeping to the main threads, I aim to make the great meaning clear. My purpose is to remain faithful to the instructions of my teachers, to offer my own distinctions, and to dispel false doctrines. If those who love the Way can reflect on these words repeatedly and gain understanding, perhaps they will fully grasp the principles of nature and life and no longer be misled by the many false byways.
Written by Qianxuzi at the Xichan Hermitage in Nansha, in the last third of the twelfth lunar month of the Gengwu year.
Laozi said: "There is something undifferentiated and whole, which existed before Heaven and Earth took form. I do not know its name, so I reluctantly call it 'Dao' (the Way)." He also said: "The nameless is the beginning of Heaven and Earth." And he said: "All things under Heaven have a beginning, which may be regarded as the mother of all things."
What is described here is the primordial, undifferentiated Qi of True Yi (Zhenyi Qi), the root from which Heaven, Earth, humans, and things are generated. Before it stirs, it is chaotic and dim, without light, and its sounds and forms are all absorbed into stillness. This is called the "Wuji" (Ultimateless). Within the human body, its counterpart is a state of utter tranquility, without response, and perfectly still. The "true emptiness" (zhenkong) of Buddhism and the "unmanifested" (weifa) of Confucianism are both close to this.
This is precisely what Laozi meant by "constantly remaining free of desire, so as to observe its subtle mysteries," what the Yijing "Xici" commentary means by "the sage thereby cleanses the mind and gathers the spirit into deep hiddenness," and what the Yuanjue Jing (Scripture of Perfect Awakening) means by "seeking only to reach utmost stillness, relying on the power of settled calm." The scripture further states that by this means one may permanently cut off afflictions and ultimately attain cultivation's fulfillment, without rising from one's seat, and enter Nirvana (the state of liberation from the afflictions of birth and death).
The fundamental aims of the sages of the three teachings are the same; only their methods of cultivation and application differ, and this is why the three teachings are distinct.
The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) says: "The Dao gives birth to a single qi out of emptiness, and from this one qi arise yin and yang." The "ultimate" (ji) here refers to the state in which yin and yang are already present but have not yet separated. Laozi says, "The Dao gives birth to One," and this One is the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the fundamental state before heaven, earth, and the myriad things have differentiated. In the human body it is called the xuanpin (the mysterious female), the gateway of the source of life. The xuanpin is formed when the primordial true essence (xiantian zhenjing) and the subtle qi join together naturally. In other words, existence arises from non-existence, and substance takes form from emptiness. It is the root of Shen (spirit) and qi, and the key pass in the cultivation of nature and life. Laozi also says, "Constantly observe its manifestations." The method of observing these manifestations became the foundation on which sages and perfected masters of every age established the groundwork of nature and life. The cultivation of the sages arises from it, and their spiritual illumination appears through it.
Laozi says, "The Dao gives birth to One, and One gives birth to Two." This means the Taiji divides into the Two Modes (liangyi), yin and yang. After the Two Modes separate, heaven encloses earth from without, and earth sits at the center of heaven. The subtle principle by which yin contains yang and yang contains yin is also present in this arrangement. Why is this so? The arising of qi from emptiness is stillness reaching its extreme and beginning to move, which belongs to yang within yin. The division into the Two Modes, with heaven enclosing earth and earth resting at the center, is movement that contains stillness, which belongs to yin within yang. Shao Yong says, "The essences of yin and yang each contain the other." Therefore, Neidan (internal alchemy) emphasizes using yang within yin and yin within yang, while always keeping stillness as the governing principle. Laozi says, "Heaviness is the root of lightness; stillness is the master of restlessness." To maintain stillness is to embrace the original qi and guard the true nature, and through this one can return to Wuji (Ultimate Non-being).
The sun and moon came into being once heaven and earth had formed, and as they began to move and shine upon each other, the generation and transformation of all things began. They are the essence of the yin and yang qi of heaven and earth, and in the hexagrams they correspond to the Li (Fire) and Kan (Water) trigrams. The single yin line at the center of Li is called "crow essence" (wu jing), and the single yang line at the center of Kan is called "hare marrow" (tu sui). Alchemical practice takes crow essence and hare marrow as its medicinals, drawing precisely on the yang within yin and the yin within yang. The phrases "entering the east neighbor from the west" (dong ru xi lin) and "returning from the west to the east dwelling" (xi gui dong she) mean only this: recognizing the essence that yin and yang each contain within the other, grasping the moment of transformation within it, and applying it by reversing its ordinary course.
The immortals of antiquity who refined elixirs placed the greatest importance on gathering the medicinals. The medicinals have a proper measure, the gathering has a proper timing, and the reversal of yin and yang follows fixed principles. The key points lie in "the moon emerging at the initial geng" (yue chu chu geng) and "lead born after gui" (qian sheng gui hou), together with the positions of zi in the south and wu in the north, which serve as the guiding principles. These matters are explained in separate oral formulas and are not written out in the text.
The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) says: "Tigers leap and dragons soar, wind and waves run rough; at the central, correct position a mysterious pearl is born." It also says: "When the medicinal meets its own kind, its image appears; the Dao is found in the subtle and the formless, and it unites naturally." To understand what it means, one must recognize this point: it is called neither lead (qian) nor mercury (gong), but dan (the elixir). The elixir forms naturally once the sun and moon shine upon each other and the qi of yin and yang has been harmonized, which is why the form of the character dan also resembles both sun and moon.
The Xinyin Jing (Heart Seal Scripture) says: "The elixir is within the body; it is neither white nor green." This means that if one speaks of the Azure Dragon and the White Tiger, one still regards them as two separate things. Once they are gathered within the body, they have already merged into one, so it is said that the elixir is neither white nor green. Someone asked, "What is the Golden Liquor Returning Elixir (jin ye huan dan)?" The answer was: "It is what was lost and then regained, so it is called 'returning' (huan). Gold is gathered from within the water and united with one's own mercury, so it is called 'golden liquor' (jin ye)."
Once the meaning has been grasped, one should set aside the outward images. To cling to examining the trigrams and lines one by one only wastes effort to no purpose.
Having reached this level of cultivation, one cannot explain it in a single sentence, nor does it require words to express.
Source text: Godners/DaoZang; Licence: Apache-2.0 · Report an error / feedback