《梓潼帝君化書》

This scripture records the seventy-three incarnations of Lord Zitong (also known as Lord Wenchang), with particular focus on his first three manifestations.

The first incarnation occurred during the primordial beginnings of the cosmos. As chaos first divided and the clear and turbid Qi separated, establishing distinct eastern and western orientations, the cosmic breath of Taiyi (the supreme Daoist deity) permeated heaven and earth. The Lord had already silently aligned with the profound mysteries of creation. Dwelling alone in the Purple Tenuity Palace, he presided over the position of Fire Virtue Star Lord, commanding the essences of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Later, weary of celestial existence, he resolved to descend to the mortal realm to cultivate and realize the Dao-fruit. The scripture notes that the Lord originally manifested during the early Zhou dynasty in the Wu-Hui region (modern Pingjiang area of Jiangsu), and by the author's time had undergone seventy-three rebirths.

During his second incarnation, the Lord secluded himself on Lingyan Mountain for many years in cultivation, attaining a state beyond ordinary nourishment where he inhaled clouds and exhaled mists, mastering complete control over his breath and the pliancy of his form. After perfecting his practice, he entered the womb of a Zhang family in Kuaiji Mountain (modern Shaoxing, Zhejiang). This occurred when a fifty-year-old hermit prayed to heaven on a spring night, coinciding with the radiant alignment of the Zhang and Yi lunar mansions—an auspicious conjunction that drew the Lord's incarnation.

The third incarnation describes miraculous signs during his rebirth: Lady Zhang conceived after dreaming she swallowed a luminous pearl, and the birth chamber filled with numinous light. As a Zhang family child, he displayed extraordinary qualities from infancy, disdaining ordinary children's games to devote himself wholly to study. Local elders unanimously predicted his future as a great Confucian scholar. The text adds that the Zhang lineage descended from "Hui," son of the Yellow Emperor, whose invention of bows and hunting nets established their family's hereditary position overseeing these arts, making them prominent among Wu region nobility.

Through these three incarnation narratives, the passage illustrates the Daoist tenet that "immortality can be attained through cultivation," emphasizing how accumulated virtue and endured tribulations ultimately realize the Dao-fruit. The celestial resonance with star constellations, dream omens preceding birth, and other elements represent classic narrative patterns in Daoist hagiographies of perfected beings.

The fourth chapter recounts a story of transforming customs. In the Wu region, people originally preserved traditions left by Taibo (ancestor of the Zhou dynasty), but later their ways became like those of island barbarians. They cut their hair short for convenience in waterside living and tattooed their bodies to ward off water dragons. Yet I refused to follow the crowd, keeping in mind the study of orthodox rites and propriety. At first my relatives and friends thought me affected, but gradually the villagers began following my example.

In our homeland, cropped hair and tattoos were customs adapted to aquatic life, but when I came of age, I disliked this practice. I obtained proper garments and learned to wear them properly. Initially everyone found me strange, but in time, seven or eight out of ten people followed my lead in changing.

The fifth chapter speaks of studying ancient culture. The Three Wu regions were remote and culturally underdeveloped. The classics of ancient sage-kings never reached here, let alone common farming folk. Fortunately, an envoy brought silk-bound books that introduced ritual systems to our people. From then on, the sound of reading began here, and cultural education gradually flourished.

Our hometown was far from the capital and culturally backward. One day an old man visited my father and recited several admonitions from the Yao-Shun era, saying they came from a central plains envoy. Enchanted, I studied them and soon could recite them completely. Later, villagers wishing to learn came to study with me, treating me as their teacher.

The sixth chapter records a miraculous encounter with a sacred statue. I lived in a thatched riverside hut in seclusion, keeping my door shut by day. While plowing, I accidentally unearthed a golden statue. Though long buried and entwined with wisteria roots, it still shone brilliantly. Unable to bear melting it down, I offered incense daily. After returning the statue to its island home, local disasters ceased, earning everyone's gratitude.

While tilling the field, my hoe struck a golden statue. The sacred image wore a tall crown like layered emerald peaks, robes like radiant clouds, with arched blue eyebrows and a benevolent moon-face, seated serenely on a lotus throne. About a foot tall and weighing over thirty pounds, local elders identified it as possibly the sacred image of Yuanshi Tianzun (the highest Daoist deity).

During Yu the Great's flood control efforts, he reportedly cast metal sacred vessels to stabilize mountains and rivers—perhaps similar to this account. My family has always lived in poverty; though we often lacked food and clothing, we never dared consider melting down divine statues. One day, a sudden tempest arose at sea, with towering waves that no human power could withstand. I told the crowd: "There is a golden statue in my home, obtained by chance. Today, to save us all, I am willing to cast it into the sea as an offering to the Sea God (Hairuo) to calm the storm." Leading the people to higher ground, we threw the statue into the raging waves—whereupon the winds and waters instantly stilled, sparing the entire city. The villagers brought grain and cloth in gratitude, and though I tried to decline, our household gradually became more comfortable.

Later, recalling where we had cast the statue, I noticed a glimmer on the beach. Digging it up, I found the same golden image and built a shrine to honor it. The locals revered it with sincere devotion.

The seventh story recounts serving my mother. Exhausted from years of labor, she fell ill as wind, cold, summer heat, and dampness invaded her body. No physician or shaman could cure her. Emulating the ancient filial act of "extracting bone to heal a parent," I sucked the pus and blood from the toxic sores on her back. For three days, until I drew out a filmy layer and rice-like clumps of pus, her condition slightly improved. Yet her long illness left her too weak to eat. The healer declared it a stubborn ailment, curable only by "replenishing person with person" (a Daoist health concept where kin's flesh and blood restore vitality). That night, I secretly cut flesh from my own thigh to cook for her. Suddenly, a voice from the sky proclaimed: "For your pure filial piety, Heaven grants your mother twenty-four more years." By dawn, she had recovered without medicine, fulfilling the divine prophecy.

(Note: "Two jì" refers to twenty-four years—ancient China counted twelve years as one jì. "Replenishing person with person" reflects Daoist nourishing principles, where a relative’s flesh and blood replenish vital Qi.)

The Eighth Transformation: Spectral Marriage

In my youth, my family was impoverished, and my quiet, solitary nature kept me apart from others. By my twenties, I still hadn't married—no suitable matchmakers came calling, and I myself harbored no desire to seek a spouse. Later, when my mother fell ill, she often lamented not having a grandchild, and I began to worry about my lack of filial piety. One night, I dreamed of wandering into a mountain forest, where I saw a solitary grave with a door beside it. Inside sat a woman in splendid attire. Gazing at me, she said, "Are you not Zhang Shanxun?" Startled that she knew my name, I listened as she explained: "We were once neighbors—my surname is Zhong. Years ago, my uncle praised your scholarly dedication and propriety, wishing to betroth me to you. But my father refused, disliking your unusual appearance. Yet in my heart, I had already chosen you. Later, I was forced to marry Zhong Anru, a wealthy man of poor character. Humiliated and resentful, I fell ill and died—three years ago now. I’ve waited here for you. Can you do something for me?" When I awoke, the dream lingered. A month later, I dreamed it again. Then, while strolling in the countryside with my friend Yi Jiancheng, I unexpectedly arrived at the very place from my dream. The woman emerged from the grave, calling me "husband"—the same figure from my visions. It turned out Yi Jiancheng was the uncle of the Zhong family. In the end, the Zhongs retrieved their daughter’s spirit, and we were united in a ghostly marriage.

The Ninth Transformation: The Abyssal Stone

On a gentle spring day, the river flowed clear, its ripples shimmering. The reflections of elegantly dressed figures swayed with the waves, and in this celestial realm, I suddenly grasped the karmic ties of past lives. Beneath the water, a white stone bore natural markings resembling the seal-script character for "abyss" (渊), while the veins of a bluish rock traced the form of a small turtle. Later, when naming my child, I discovered these names perfectly matched the omens in nature—proof that Heaven’s will is ever impartial.

(Note: These two tales come from the Transformations of the Imperial Lord of Zitong (Zitong Dijun Huashu), recounting the pre-deification experiences of Wenchang Dijun, Zhang Yazi. "Spectral Marriage" reflects Daoist perspectives on the blurred boundaries between life and death, while "The Abyssal Stone" embodies the concept of resonance between Heaven and humanity. The phrase "the crowing of cocks and barking of dogs could be heard" alludes to a *Daodejing*典故, symbolizing neighborly harmony; "Qingyi" refers to contemporary social judgments of moral character.)

During the third month of my marriage with Zhongshi (as the Emperor of Zitong refers to himself), there was a local custom where childless married women would gather by a sacred pool to touch stones—finding a stone foretold a son, while touching a tile predicted a daughter. My mother advised Zhongshi, "The pool is unfathomably deep; it's better to search in the shallower upstream areas." As Zhongshi waded through the waters, bubbles suddenly surfaced, and she retrieved a bluish-white stone the size of an egg, hexagonal like a turtle's shell, with faint markings resembling the character "Yuan" (渊). Later, she indeed became pregnant, and upon the child's birth, we named him "Yuan Stone."

When Yuan Stone was around seven or eight years old (the age when children lose their milk teeth), Zhongshi abruptly said to me, "This child truly resembles you. I hope you will care for him well. Our marital bond has reached its end." With those words, she passed away, and I never remarried.

The Tenth Transformation: The Taming of the Pheasants

The grief of losing both parents was as profound as the collapse of heaven and earth, leaving me helpless in my sorrow. All I could do was repay their nurturing kindness by piling earth with my own hands to build their tombs, sleeping on grass mats with clods of earth as pillows (an ancient mourning ritual) while grieving day and night. The regret of being separated by the boundaries of Yin and Yang was irreparable, yet even the white pheasants were moved by my filial piety and grew tame. During the three-year mourning period (a traditional practice for parental bereavement), a pair of white pheasants often perched in the trees near the graves. During memorial rites, they would descend, circling and calling as if trying to speak. Only after the mourning period ended did they depart.

The Eleventh Transformation: The Receding Flood

After painstakingly constructing my parents' tombs, an unexpected flood struck. The pines and catalpas (common cemetery trees) were on the verge of being swept away, and the coffins were in imminent danger. In this crisis, I recited the Great Cavern Immortal Scripture (Dadong Xianjing) to dispel the calamity, while the consecrated golden statue of the saint subdued the raging waters and monstrous waves (referred to as "whale-leviathans"). When the autumn rains ceased, the flood receded, and the burial grounds were restored to level earth.

My parents' graves were only a hundred paces from our home, chosen hastily for convenience in tending to them. Five years after their burial, a flood suddenly erupted thirty li to the west (the original text breaks off here, but context suggests the disaster was ultimately averted).

Chapter 12 "Subduing Epidemics" from The Transformation Book of the Imperial Lord Zitong recounts a miraculous tale of plague and divine intervention:

During a midsummer plague outbreak, the protagonist's parents both succumbed to the disease. Overwhelmed by grief and harboring bitter hatred against the epidemic yet powerless to seek vengeance, he turned to devout recitation of the Dadong Jing (Great Cavern Scripture) and veneration of a golden statue (a Daoist divine image). Miraculously, the stream before his ancestors' graves shifted its course, averting potential flooding. This reinforced his faith in the scripture and sacred image, prompting even more diligent scripture recitation.

Three years later, the golden statue appeared in his dream, revealing: "You have mastered the Dadong Xianjing (Great Cavern Immortal Scripture), but have yet to encounter the Dadong Falu (Great Cavern Talismanic Registers). I shall now transmit these to you—they will not only fulfill your aspirations but also bring relief to all under heaven." The golden figure produced two texts from its sleeve: the Dadong Lu (Great Cavern Registers) and Dadong Fa (Great Cavern Methods).

Upon awakening, he discovered both texts miraculously beside his pillow. When he recited the incantation "Ten thousand armored celestial cavalry," the heavens suddenly darkened with thunder and wind as countless golden-armored divine warriors with crimson sashes materialized. A general bearing a red banner stepped forward, pledging obedience to his commands. The protagonist immediately ordered them to punish the plague-spreading demons.

This scripture passage vividly illustrates the potent efficacy of Daoist scriptures and talismans (fulu) within religious belief, demonstrating how Wenchang Dijun (the Imperial Lord Zitong) assists devotees by transmitting sacred registers to combat epidemics and aid the people. The mentioned Dadong Jing represents a pivotal Daoist classic, while "Falu" refers to the talismanic manuals used by Daoist priests when performing ritual arts.

This scripture recounts the miraculous intervention of Emperor Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) in dispelling a plague. When an entire household fell ill with pestilence, the emperor dispatched a divine general bearing a banner, accompanied by over a hundred attendants, to enter the afflicted home. They swiftly apprehended five plague demons—each with grotesque forms: one clad in tiger skin, another crowned with a rooster's comb, others with dog faces, raven-like features, or donkey-horse hybrids, wielding tools of fire, water, feathers, and golden chisels.

The emperor sternly rebuked them, threatening annihilation, but the demons protested they acted by celestial mandate, only punishing those deficient in yin virtue (De) or whose destined lifespan had expired. They vowed henceforth to retreat upon encountering the emperor's talismanic registers (Fulu). Following proper ritual protocol, the emperor administered disciplinary precepts before releasing them.

As news spread, people from near and far sought healing. Through talismanic methods, the emperor cured diverse afflictions: demonic possessions, malarial fevers, ghostly disturbances, and injuries from baleful energies. Yet he discerned that some illnesses stemmed from internal imbalances of hot/cold or excess/deficiency, lifestyle factors, emotional turmoil, or external wind-cold pathogens—matters belonging to traditional medicine (per the Yellow Emperor's Classic of Pulse or Shennong's Herbal Compendium) beyond mere incantations.

Thus began the emperor's profound study of pulse diagnostics, herbal pharmacology, the generative and restrictive cycles of the Five Phases (Wuxing), and acupuncture techniques. After six years of diligent cultivation, he mastered the healing arts. Thereafter, all whose fated lifespans remained unfulfilled received treatment under his care, ending untimely deaths. This passage embodies the Daoist principle of "medicine and Dao sharing the same origin," emphasizing the integration of exorcistic practice with medical cultivation.

Chapter 14: Transformation Through Celestial Office

Families who practice virtue do so simply from the sincerity of their hearts, never expecting their good deeds to be widely celebrated. Yet when such reputations reach the ears of rulers, a clear conscience allows one to assume celestial office (Tianguan, heavenly official posts) as if by destined affinity. When the six climatic energies (wind, cold, summer heat, dampness, dryness, and fire) harmonize, peace and joy prevail across the land, and the ailments of the people are easily cured. That I was once deemed fit for such duties was not solely due to my own abilities, but rather the transformative influence of enlightened rulers and wise ministers.

Having healed many, my reputation reached the sovereign. At the time, I practiced acupuncture and herbal medicine when summoned to the capital through official recommendation. After rigorous examinations at the king’s behest, I was appointed as a royal physician, entrusted with alleviating the suffering of the populace under the Celestial Offices Bureau. I accepted this role gladly and instructed my disciples to devote themselves diligently. This occurred during the prosperous reign of King Cheng of Zhou, when bountiful harvests graced the royal domains, the six energies remained balanced, and epidemics were rare—all manifestations of virtuous governance that enabled me to fulfill my duties.

Chapter 15: Transformation Through Recommending the Worthy

To rejoice in others’ virtuous deeds as if they were one’s own, and for the eminent to uplift those yet unrecognized—this marks true wisdom. The profoundly wise immerse themselves in creation; divine prescriptions (xianfang, miraculous formulas) can heal illnesses by resonating with the spirit (Shen). When I recommended worthy individuals, I held nothing back, nominating successors with complete sincerity. My memorials reached the imperial ear, earning exceptional commendation and an unprecedented promotion to inner court service.

Among my subordinates was Gongsun Zhishu, a surgeon of innate compassion and brilliance, whose erudition encompassed the properties of countless medicinals. He innovatively formulated the "Five Toxins Elixir" from cinnabar, realgar, alumite, magnetite, and chalcanthite: cinnabar nourishes blood and heart, realgar regenerates flesh and spleen, alumite regulates lipids to aid the lungs, magnetite strengthens bones and kidneys, and chalcanthite treats sinews to enrich the liver. Applied externally, it heals five types of ulcers while internally aligning with the five viscera. Prepared in a ceramic crucible with precise firing control, its topical application proved miraculously effective. Zhishu recorded this method in medical classics. Recognizing his superiority despite my higher rank, I recommended him as my successor. Soon after, the ruler fell ill with a sudden abscess that turned critical overnight—yet application of this remedy brought immediate recovery. Zhishu was thereby appointed royal physician, and the sovereign praised my unreserved sincerity in recommendation.

These two passages from The Transformation Book of the Imperial Lord Zitong recount the earthly experiences of Wenchang Dijun (the Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes and official success, also known as Imperial Lord Zitong) during his incarnations.

The sixteenth transformation, titled "Rectifying Errors," tells of a royal physician who was promoted to the position of Remonstrance Official due to his exceptional medical skills. The ruler said to him: "Just as you heal the people like a physician curing illness, I now appoint you as Remonstrance Official (a post responsible for admonishing the ruler) so that you may use your healing heart to correct my faults. Good medicine may be bitter, but it cures disease; honest words may be harsh, but they benefit conduct." The physician declined three times before accepting the appointment. While the ruler was still young, he assisted with the same devotion as the Duke of Zhou (a renowned virtuous minister of the Zhou dynasty who governed in place of the young King Cheng), often quietly burning memorials of remonstrance to prevent outsiders from seeing them, thereby avoiding opportunities for petty men to sow discord. Later, even when slander arose, the harmonious bond between ruler and minister remained intact—due in part to his efforts.

The seventeenth transformation, "Glorious Return," describes how this official, after serving in the capital for ten years, returned to his hometown in honor. Upon arriving, his children no longer recognized their father in his official cap, and the familiar country paths had become strange to him. He reflected on how the vanity of official life was like a dream and how he could finally lay aside worldly entanglements to sleep peacefully once more beneath the northern window, undisturbed even by the crowing of roosters. Through contrasting the life of officialdom with the retreat to rural simplicity, this passage expresses the Daoist ideal of revering nature and transcending fame and gain.

(Note: In the text, "mulberry and catalpa" (sangzi) symbolizes one’s hometown, "father and mother" (hushi) refers to parents, and the "Duke of Zhou" was a celebrated sage minister of the Zhou dynasty who governed on behalf of the young King Cheng.)

This passage recounts the edifying story of the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity). While enjoying wealth and high office, an official came upon the verses about owls in the Classic of Poetry (Shijing) and was suddenly awakened to life's impermanence. He repeatedly petitioned to resign from his post and return to his hometown. When finally permitted, his fellow villagers prepared a welcoming feast outside the city gates. The official deliberately dismounted his carriage to walk among them, making his neighbors feel deeply honored.

Upon returning home, he discovered his impoverished clansmen and established a "Charitable Estate" (yizhuang), entrusting its management to Yuan Shi: providing relief for the poor, covering medical expenses for the sick, supporting marriage arrangements for eligible youths, and sponsoring promising students' education. Other families soon emulated this model, gradually fostering a culture of mutual aid throughout the Wu region (modern Jiangsu-Zhejiang area).

Later, hearing the teachings of the Western Sage (referring to Buddhism), which advocated ascetic practice, contemplation of emptiness, and nirvana as ultimate truth—treating others with compassion, maintaining purity through daily fasting rituals, viewing life and death as natural as dawn and dusk, and transcending grievances and attachments like awakening from a grand dream—he realized the principle of "returning to the root and restoring life's essence" (guigen fuming). Life is but shifting clouds; only by relinquishing attachments can one attain true liberation. From then on, he wandered freely wherever circumstances led, abiding in perfect spontaneity.

I deeply understand the brevity of human life, thus I seek the realm that transcends life and death. When I once renounced wealth and honor to live in seclusion, I encountered a recluse singing while walking along the road. His song went: At sunrise, clouds and mist emerge when meeting mountain rocks—faint and indistinct at first, yet in a blink, they become dazzlingly radiant. The clouds drift endlessly with the wind, only to vanish in an instant, with no trace of their destination. Those who chase fame and fortune exhaust themselves in relentless toil, yet when old age approaches, they tremble before death, hesitating and wavering, ultimately descending into the underworld as mere commoners among the masses.

Upon hearing this, I immediately halted my carriage to listen intently. Soon after, I leaned against the shaft and bowed respectfully, then stepped down with tears of gratitude, saying: Your words have profoundly moved me. I humbly ask for wisdom and guidance to enlighten the remainder of my days. There, on the open road, I knelt and kowtowed repeatedly in supplication. The singer sighed deeply, gazed at the heavens, then pointed to my heart and imparted the true oral teachings, saying: This is the method of returning to stillness passed down by the ancient sage of the West, the Imperial Lord. If you diligently cultivate this practice, you may transcend life and death—though the body perishes, the spirit endures, attaining immeasurable longevity. Persevere to the end, and you shall achieve perfect enlightenment; even if you abandon the path midway, you will still become an earthly immortal.

After receiving these teachings, my worldly ties were severed, and all distracting thoughts instantly dissolved. That year, in mid-autumn, I gathered my kin and friends, left behind a eulogy, and departed from this world. The eulogy read: The autumn wind rustles, the autumn moon shines bright; only upon realizing the true meaning do I understand this body is but a temporary guest.

The 20th Transformation: Manifesting Holiness at Junshan

Junshan is a place of utmost serenity, where cranes circle and linger, unwilling to leave. The lake's shimmer and the mountain's hues shift distinctly between day and night, while the density of the forest changes with the seasons. Those who attain the true Dao do not crave elixirs of immortality; how could realized beings care for the power of a petty lord? Gazing afar at the misty, boundless beauty, I listen quietly to the fishermen's songs and watch all things move in effortless harmony.

After my ascension, I originally intended to journey westward, but passing by Junshan at Dongting Lake, I was captivated by its beauty and lingered briefly. At this moment, I am bound neither by rulers above nor kin below—detached from all things, coming and going alone. The interplay of light and shadow through the four seasons is endless; chanting with the wind and moon brings boundless joy. Recalling the past...

This scripture recounts the incarnation experience of the Divine Lord of Zitong (a revered deity in Daoism).

Having served as the mountain deity of Junshan (a mountain in Lake Dongting) and overseer of the Dongting waters for ages, one spring he heard a large boat moor by the lakeshore. People were sacrificing a sheep and pouring libations, their mournful wails piercing the air. Among them, a woman in her thirties offered three cups of wine and prayed, revealing that her husband had been exiled to the south for speaking loyal words and had perished from miasmic vapors, his coffin unable to return home. She was pregnant with his posthumous child and begged the deity to grant her a son to continue the Zhang family line.

Deeply moved by this plea, the Divine Lord of Zitong shed tears without realizing it—then suddenly felt himself falling into the woman’s womb. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself reborn as an infant in a bathing basin, surrounded by joyous cries of "It’s a boy!"

The later passage mentions "King Li" (the notorious tyrant King Li of Zhou), whose suppression of dissent turned the people’s hearts against him, while the father of this incarnated soul ("the departed one") suffered for his loyal remonstrance. Though tragedy befell him, his righteous loyalty was remembered by later generations. Ultimately, the reborn child inherited his father’s post as a remonstrance official, continuing the family’s mission.

Through this deity’s reincarnation journey, the scripture illustrates the concepts of karmic cycles and the transmission of loyalty through generations. References to "touching the reverse scales" (a metaphor for provoking a ruler’s wrath) and the "Remonstrance Bureau" (the office of imperial advisors) reflect both the perils and nobility of upright counsel in ancient times.

This passage recounts the family history and personal experiences of the Imperial Lord of Zitong, a revered deity in Daoism.

The first half reflects on the deeds of his father: His father, named Wuji, was buried in Heshuo after his passing. His mother, Lady Huang, was kind-hearted, wise, and particularly valued education. Even in my infancy, she would recite poetry and classical texts while nursing or lulling me to sleep. When neighboring children came to play, she would shape clay and cloth into figures to recreate scenes of ancient court assemblies, father-son admonitions, master-disciple teachings, and interactions among friends—using these methods to instill in me the principles of proper conduct from an early age. At the age of ten, I began studying abroad and was given the name "Zhongsi" (忠嗣, "Loyal Successor") to inherit the aspirations of my ancestors.

Upon reaching adulthood and undergoing the capping ceremony (a Confucian coming-of-age ritual), my grandfather, Pingzi, bestowed upon me the courtesy name "Zhong" (仲). My mother strictly observed the rites in presiding over the ceremony at the ancestral shrine, tearfully recounting: "Your father once served King Li as a royal tutor (保氏, Baoshi), often provoking the king’s anger with his remonstrations. King Li detested criticism, and many who dared to advise him were executed. Later, he even established harsh policies to monitor and punish slander, leading to countless wrongful deaths. Your father petitioned the king to abolish the ban on criticism so that public grievances could be heard, but instead, he was exiled to Panyu (modern-day Guangzhou) and ultimately died unjustly. Now, with the new king implementing benevolent governance and issuing an edict to redress the wrongs of unjustly executed ministers, I urge you to go to the capital and seek justice." Later, the court exonerated my father, posthumously honoring him with the title "Xian" (献, "Devoted"), and I was appointed as a Baoshi, inheriting my father’s official position.

The latter half recounts the family’s devotion to filial piety: My elder brother, Yunsi, passed away early without heirs, which deeply grieved my mother. I had two sons, and the younger, Maoyang, was exceptionally bright and beloved by his great-grandfather. During the ancestral rites before the winter solstice one year, my mother wept bitterly in remembrance of my deceased brother. To console her and honor my brother’s spirit in the afterlife, I formally adopted Maoyang into my brother’s lineage to continue his family line. This act of familial devotion (孝悌, xiaoti) was highly praised at the time.

(Note: "Baoshi" was an official title in the Zhou Dynasty responsible for education; the "Threefold Capping Ceremony" refers to the ancient rite of adulthood where a young man received three ceremonial caps; the "Lung Stone" was a stone placed in ancient courts where people could voice grievances.)

When Queen Mother Zhao passed away at eighty, my grandfather was so grief-stricken he refused food and drink, soon following her in death. As the grandson standing in for my father, I observed the severest mourning ritual (zhancui, the most austere funeral attire in antiquity) and maintained three years of filial piety in full accordance with rites. This devotion became renowned throughout the court and beyond, with contemporaries praising my filial virtue and fraternal devotion, addressing me only by my courtesy name out of respect.

The twenty-fourth transformation recounts the affair at Mian River. General Yin Jifu possessed extraordinary bearing, his military achievements and reputation unsurpassed at court. A man equally accomplished in civil and martial arts, he served when the realm faced turmoil with barbarian invasions from all quarters. After the new king’s accession, Yin was dispatched on northern and western campaigns, recovering territories held since King Wen and King Wu’s era. Though holding crucial military command, his unconstrained temperament and disregard for trivial formalities bred resentment among courtiers, resulting in persistent slander. During his stay in Haojing, malicious rumors reached the sovereign’s ears. Though I repeatedly defended him to little avail, I ultimately composed the poem "Mian Waters" as remonstrance through allegory. Later, when Yin returned victorious, ruler and minister reconciled completely, achieving a restoration more glorious than the golden ages of Shaokang or Gaozong.

The twenty-fifth transformation tells of the White Steed. Initially diligent in governance, the king grew complacent after successes, prompting worthy men to depart. I wrote "The White Steed" as admonition, depicting sages withdrawing like pale steeds vanishing into distance. Upon awakening to this truth, the king summoned worthies back to the capital with lavish honors. The royal policy of recruiting talent thus originated from loyal counsel advocating Confucian scholars’ employment. During this era of peace, when the sovereign showed signs of laxity, Wei Zhongjiang’s blunt remonstrations provoked imperial wrath and punishment.

These two passages from the Transformation Scripture of the Imperial Lord Zitong present didactic narratives that embody Daoism's emphasis on moral cultivation.

The twenty-sixth story recounts "Recommending the Son of One's Enemy." It states: My father died with unresolved resentment, having been falsely accused by Nan Fengcheng—a grievance that would normally demand vengeance beyond the grave. Yet after Nan Fengcheng's death, his son Wen Shu proved to be a virtuous and capable individual. Though personal enmity still lingered in my heart, I recommended Wen Shu to the imperial court. The ruler accepted this counsel, and Wen Shu ultimately discharged his duties with excellence. This narrative illustrates the principle of setting aside personal grudges to recommend individuals based solely on their virtue (De) and ability.

The twenty-seventh story describes "Caring for Orphans." It tells of a man in his prime who died suddenly, leaving five destitute daughters without support. Though their parents had departed this world, the community still arranged their marriages according to ritual propriety, ensuring the ceremonies were conducted as if their parents were present. Such steadfast adherence to moral duty (Dao) would bring comfort even to the deceased spirits in the underworld. This account reflects the Daoist values of upholding human relationships and compassionately caring for the vulnerable.

Both stories exemplify the Daoist pedagogical principles of "returning virtue for resentment" and "benefiting the world by aiding others." Through concrete examples, they demonstrate how one should transcend personal grievances and resolve conflicts through moral righteousness (De) and humaneness, while extending help to those in need.

Wei Zhongjiang and I worked together for many years and shared a deep friendship. One early morning, when the imperial carriage was departing through the Tiger Gate, Zhongjiang intended to remonstrate with the emperor. But as he approached the imperial presence, he hesitated and withdrew. Suddenly, he collapsed unconscious. By the time the guards helped him up, he was barely breathing, and he passed away upon returning home. The Wei family had no sons, only five daughters: the eldest was a widow who had returned to her parents' home, the second was of marriageable age but unwed, and the youngest was just fifteen. Because Zhongjiang had angered the emperor before his death, the court offered no condolences, leaving the five daughters with no support. Following proper etiquette, I arranged marriages for the three eldest, while the two youngest were fostered in the household of Imperial Remonstrator Gao Liang, to be wed to his sons Ranming and Maoyang when they came of age.

(The 28th Transformation: Transformation through Compassionate Guidance)

This mother was widowed young yet lived to a hundred with sharp hearing and clear vision. She had long practiced the Scripture of Inner Observation (a Daoist classic on cultivating mind and nature) and attained realization in her later years. One day, as I was returning from court through the courtyard, she called me over and had her two granddaughters accompany her. Sighing, she said: "We mother and son are bound by fate. Now your hair has turned white, and I too have aged. Know that life and death in this world are as impermanent as the moon waxing and waning, or flowers blooming and withering. This life is but a continuation of the past. If one fails to understand the principle of birth-death transmigration, how can one preserve one's true nature? Recognize the illusoriness of the physical form and hold fast to the eternal essence. With steadfast mind and nature, one can transcend calamities. Those who do good may ascend to immortal realms, while evildoers will at least retain human form. Do not accumulate further karmic debts in this dreamlike existence. My time is near—do not grieve." With these words, she leaned against the armrest and peacefully passed away. Later, she attained the Dao through her pure maidenhood and ascended to become the Perfected One of Subtle Wisdom.

(The 29th Transformation: Transformation through Utmost Loyalty)

(Here the text describes modifying funeral rites to serve the state) To repay the sovereign's kindness to former ministers, I suppressed my grief and altered the mourning rites, prioritizing affairs of state.

This is the account of the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) recounting his past life as a loyal minister. At that time, as an elder statesman, I repeatedly offered remonstrations that went unheeded, watching helplessly as the court's moral climate deteriorated day by day.

I was originally observing mourning for my parents (wearing the coarse hempen garments of "Zicui," an ancient mourning attire), when an imperial decree demanded I abandon the mourning period and resume official duties. As the new ruler grew weary of governance over time, the veteran ministers who had once assisted him—figures like Yin Jifu and Duke Mu of Shao—had either passed away or retired due to illness, leaving me alone to persist in offering admonitions. Earlier, when the new ruler sought to enthrone the son of his favored consort as crown prince, I strenuously opposed it to no avail. Later, when this prince ascended the throne and proved tyrannical and debauched, I again spoke out bluntly in remonstration. The new ruler, enraged by my repeated opposition as a holdover from the previous reign, angrily dismissed me and sent me back to my hometown.

Later, the court dispatched envoys bearing poisoned wine. Though I knew it meant death, I drank it calmly. While I had no regrets about dying in loyal service to the state, I remained deeply troubled that the righteous ways of Zhou's rituals and music (the Zhou Dao) would decline from that point on, fearing the foundations laid by Kings Wen and Wu would crumble entirely.

After reincarnation, I entered official service once more, experiencing further vicissitudes of life. A loyal minister grieves for his country yet lacks the power to turn the tide; speaking truth to power only invites resentment. Gazing from afar at the pines and catalpas of my homeland (symbolizing ancestral graves), I felt ashamed that, white-haired and aged, I still clung to official rank and emolument. In the end, I chose seclusion in the Snow Mountains (a sacred site for cultivation) to devote myself to spiritual practice. In this lifetime, though I steadfastly upheld the ancient Dao, I faced repeated persecution. After death, my spirit wandered for three days, and the new ruler even ordered archers to shoot arrows toward the sound of my weeping. What use was shooting at me when my physical form had already perished? My soul then journeyed westward, passing through Mount Min and Emei, until I arrived at a mountain in western Shu called Feiyue—though its name echoed my homeland of Wuyue, its customs were utterly different, with eternal snow that never melted, making it the perfect sanctuary for transcending worldly dust.

This scripture recounts the experiences of Emperor Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) during his spiritual cultivation in the Snow Mountains. The mountain deity Bai Hui informed him that this was the sacred site where the Buddhist Prabhūtaratna Tathāgata had practiced for eight years, and also where the Perfected Being of the Western Extremity attained the Dao. While the Emperor was dwelling there, he suddenly received an imperial decree from the Celestial Court conferring upon him the title "Great Immortal of the Snow Mountains."

Later, when the Emperor was commanded to travel to Shu (Sichuan) to spread the Dao, five mountain deities came to pay homage as he passed through the Sword Ridge. They explained that this mountain range connected with Zhongnan Mountain to the north, joined the Min and Emei Mountains to the west, extended to the Qionglai Mountains in the south, and neighbored the Ba Mountains to the east—spanning a thousand li with significant geographical importance. The deities revealed that since the Mountain King Bai Feng reincarnated as the Crown Prince of Shu, the area had lacked proper governance for a century. Recognizing the Emperor as a descendant of sages with virtuous De (Virtue/Power), they suggested he temporarily reside there.

The text vividly describes the Snow Mountains' remoteness from worldly affairs: "A thousand li north from the capital, gazing west at the ten thousand peaks of Min and Emei Mountains—here one leaves behind worldly honors and disgrace, where no disputes or gossip penetrate these mist-shrouded mountains and waters." It also mentions the Emperor's legendary cultivation feats: "Slaying the White Tiger left star-marked stones behind, while binding the Azure Dragon yielded a halo of bright moonlight."

This passage recounts how the Emperor of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) subdued a white tiger demon and became a mountain god. Previously, a thousand-year-old white-browed tiger spirit had been preying on humans while dwelling in the mountains. Since the Emperor of Zitong had been a high-ranking minister to the Son of Heaven in his past life—with authority to command mountain and river deities—and possessed the Jade Decree (the highest celestial mandate in Daoism) from the Heavenly Court, he invoked the Heavenly Emperor's authority to summon all spirits and ghosts within a thousand-mile radius.

Before the assembly, he proclaimed: "By decree of the Heavenly Emperor, the white tiger has slaughtered living beings. As the rightful lord of this mountain, I command you to join forces and execute it. Those who obey shall receive ancestral sacrifices for generations, while those who defy shall face divine retribution." After the spirits accepted the order, the Emperor of Zitong manifested his divine form, towering as high as the mountains. He broke a lone bamboo stalk to fashion a long sword and summoned the Master of Wind and Rain (the deity governing weather) to clear his path. When the enraged tiger pounced with lightning flashing from its eyes, the assembled deities worked together to slay it. From the tiger's blood emerged a star-shaped stone—the "Tiger's Might Stone," which concentrated the demon's power and could awe hundreds of spirits when worn.

Afterward, he voluntarily confessed to the Heavenly Emperor about falsely invoking the celestial decree. However, for his merit in eliminating harm, he was instead enfeoffed as the Mountain King of Northern Shu. As a mountain god, he administered his jurisdiction with impartiality. On one occasion, Gao Yu, the god of Mount Qingli, coveted the beauty of a bride named Sun Di and detained her soul for defilement. When the White Pool Dragon King exposed this crime, the Emperor of Zitong, after verifying the truth through interrogation, ordered Gao Yu to return the soul to revive the bride, then had him flogged three hundred times and stripped of his divine office.

Through these two episodes, the narrative illustrates that while the celestial realm operates differently from human institutions, the principles of rewarding good and punishing evil remain universal. Whether subduing demons or disciplining negligent deities, both cases embody the governing philosophy of "clarifying the Heavenly Dao through majestic imperial virtue."

At the foot of the mountain lived a filial son named Wu Yijian who had passed away. To cure his father's illness, he once pricked his finger and transcribed four volumes of the Lankavatara Sutra in his own blood. Three years after his death, his soul still hadn't received liberation. I (the Imperial Lord of Zitong) petitioned the celestial court, requesting that his filial virtue replace animal sacrifices for his salvation. The Jade Emperor approved, and from then on, all deities great and small held him in special reverence.

Chapter 33 recounts the karmic consequences of Bao State's downfall. When Marquis Bao presented the beautiful Bao Si to King You of Zhou, the king became infatuated and disrupted court affairs, deposing the virtuous Queen Shen and Crown Prince Yijiu. This violation of heavenly principles provoked divine wrath, and the sacred mountain deity of Western Peak (Mount Hua) sent calamities as warning. The three rivers (Jing, Wei, and Luo) flowed backward, while mountains collapsed and earth split. Witnessing innocent commoners suffering, I immediately appealed to heaven for mercy. Ultimately, the Jade Emperor punished only Marquis Bao while sparing the people. Later, when the Quanrong invaded, Bao State's territory was incorporated into Shu—all according to celestial design.

Chapter 34 illustrates karmic retribution through contrasting fates of evildoers and filial sons. The wicked reap what they sow, like one who raises fire against the wind only to burn himself. Yet even fierce winds would change course to avoid the virtuous Wu Yijian. This story serves as warning: the upright and kind naturally receive divine protection. The典故 of "winds reversing and fires rebounding" vividly demonstrates how evil deeds ultimately return to their perpetrator.

South of Sword Ridge lived a filial son named Li Yuan. One evening, a traveler came seeking lodging just as Li Yuan was stewing chicken for his ailing mother. Mistaking the meal as hospitality for himself, the guest brightened and said he'd eat later. When only coarse rice was served, he refused to touch his chopsticks. Li Yuan explained: "My elderly mother is ill and craves meat. This chicken is prepared specially for her—I've no time to entertain guests properly." The visitor flushed with shame, flicking his sleeves as he stood: "Do you think I've never tasted meat?" He stormed off without farewell.

At midnight, the embittered guest returned with a cold wind to set the house ablaze. It was deep winter—dry grass and timber fueled the flames. Li Yuan carried his mother to safety, weeping to the heavens. I (the self-proclaimed Emperor of Zitong) happened to be passing by on my celestial wanderings. Seeing this injustice, I breathed out a gust that reversed the fire's course. The arsonist stood frozen, torch in hand, until flames licked his beard and eyebrows. Fleeing, he stumbled into the inferno and barely survived.

Under questioning, the man identified himself as Pu Guangdu, a self-styled knight-errant. That summer in Chengdu, his drunken friend had harassed a virtuous woman and nearly died from the beating that followed. When Pu intervened, he was thrown into a river and almost drowned. His legal complaint was dismissed, forcing him into exile. Starvation and resentment drove him to seek revenge that night. He claimed hearing a divine rebuke as the flames turned against him—now dying, he refused to perish nameless. With these words, his breath ceased.

Chapter 35 "Rectifying Injustice" warns: Human life outweighs mountains—never treat it lightly. Lady Mao's wrongful death remains unavenged; how can the unjustly slain good return? Ghosts cling to bodies to plead their cases; thieves are caught by evidence, villains punished. Ai Min (referring to the Zitong Emperor) speaks with cosmic justice—only then may earthly sacrifices bring peace.

Now, three hundred li north of Sword Ridge at Turtle Mountain's base, local He Zhiqing's son married the daughter of Hou Fu from Fish Mountain. A year later, Hou Fu fell gravely ill. The bride begged her mother-in-law to visit her family and was permitted to go with her husband. Midway, she remembered a pair of gold earrings in her dowry chest—left behind in haste—but dusk had fallen when she considered turning back.

This passage recounts two miraculous interventions by the Divine Lord Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes). The first involves solving a murder case: A man named Wufang had a younger brother, Liangneng, who accompanied his sister-in-law to visit relatives. Midway, the sister-in-law remembered forgetting something and sent Liangneng back alone. The next day, she was found murdered with her head missing. The authorities wrongfully convicted Liangneng of rape and murder, but as he was about to be executed, the Divine Lord Zitong manifested to reveal the truth.

The actual culprit was a bandit named Niu Zi, who had been quarreling with his wife, Mao Shi. On the road, he abducted Liangneng’s sister-in-law, Hou Shi, and forced the two women to swap clothes. Niu Zi then beheaded Mao Shi, disguising her body as Hou Shi’s, and took the real Hou Shi away. The Divine Lord Zitong compelled Mao Shi’s spirit to possess Niu Zi, forcing him to confess the crime. The true murderer was punished, and Liangneng’s innocence was proven.

The second account describes a cruel custom in the Juyi region (modern-day Sichuan). Due to poverty, infanticide was rampant—parents would abandon or kill their third child. A wealthy landlord named Zhang Qianshi, though living off rents, could not change this practice. The Divine Lord Zitong manifested there, teaching the people with the principle: "Among all living beings, none are more precious than humans." He emphasized the rarity and value of human life, urging them not to destroy it due to material hardship. From then on, the local custom transformed, and infanticide ceased.

(Note: In the text, "yuwang" refers to the time when the sun slants westward; "jige" means a critical illness; and "ju zhi" denotes interrogating a prisoner. These are all ancient judicial and medical terms.)

The 37th chapter "Salvation from Drowning" in the Transformation Scriptures of the Imperial Lord Zitong recounts two miraculous interventions by the Imperial Lord Zitong (the deified form of Wenchang, revered in Daoism) to save common people.

The first story concerns a man named Qian Shi. During land distribution, he had established a rule with a dozen households: only families with able-bodied laborers could retain their land, and subsequently born children were to be abandoned—a practice that became customary. Qian Shi had twelve sons: his eldest was disabled and unable to work, while the second developed epilepsy at age three that resisted all treatments from physicians, diviners, and shamans. After ten days of futile prayers to the local deity Gongsun Zhang, the deity came to seek my assistance. Upon investigation, I discovered Qian Shi's family had abandoned over forty children over the years, leaving these wandering spirits homeless and vengeful. When I appeared in a dream to Qian's wife Lady Li to explain the cause, even after she informed her husband, he remained unrepentant. I then dispatched the celestial officer Xun Ming to admonish Qian's youngest son: "To discard others' children is to discard your own; only by cherishing others' offspring can you preserve yours. You coveted labor but begrudged extra mouths to feed—now forty vengeful spirits demand recompense, and your son nears death." Only then did Qian Shi repent, kowtowing until bloodied to beg mercy. After I instructed him to reform, his son recovered. Henceforth, locals understood the sanctity of life, and the population gradually flourished.

The second incident occurred at Baima County, situated where three rivers converge. Three months of autumn rains caused floods from eastern and western valleys to converge with the main river at Lingyan Gorge, forming bottomless whirlpools that breached the city walls. The local guardian deity Bai Jian sought help, explaining this former Min Mountain territory now under Shu jurisdiction had been governed benevolently by Magistrate Huang Gao, yet the people faced imminent drowning. As the overseeing deity, I immediately accompanied Bai Jian to the site. Upon arrival, his mighty shout stilled the raging torrents—who could claim turbulent waters must destroy fertile fields? The verse "Baima's remnant people embody virtuous customs / Huang Gao's benevolent rule marks wise governance" praises both the locals' simple virtue and the magistrate's exemplary character.

These two passages from the Transformation Records of the Imperial Lord Zitong (the Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) document miraculous interventions to relieve disaster victims.

The 38th Transformation, "Grain Rain Miracle," recounts: During a great famine in the Baxi region, the wealthy Luo Mi hoarded grain while refusing to sell, whereas the righteous Xu Rong exhausted his family fortune to aid the starving. When Xu could no longer continue his relief efforts, he burned incense and prayed through the night. Hearing this, the Imperial Lord Zitong commanded the Wind God to lift five thousand hu of grain from Luo Mi's warehouses into the sky, showering it evenly across towns and countryside like rain so all famine victims received aid. Luo's stockpiles were entirely distributed within a single day. The people repaid Xu's kindness with gratitude while applauding Luo's misfortune. Upon learning Xu had been recommended as local magistrate, Luo died of shame.

The 39th Transformation, "Timely Rain Miracle," describes: In the Longshan area along the middle reaches of the Ba River, where simple folk suffered prolonged drought, the people yearned for sweet rain. The Imperial Lord Zitong accordingly sent seasonable showers to nourish crops, ensuring autumn harvests were preserved and summer field desolation avoided. This efficacious rainfall attracted many displaced victims to settle here, creating a harmonious community where elders supported each other and children received care.

Both stories exemplify the Daoist karmic principle that "accumulated goodness brings blessings, accumulated evil brings calamity," demonstrating divine retribution through miraculous manifestations. The "Grain Rain" miracle particularly illustrates the Daoist cultivation concept of "dispersing wealth to accumulate virtue (De)"—where hoarding grain invites heavenly punishment, while those who share wealth with the poor ultimately reap good rewards.

West of the Ba River in northern Sichuan stands Dragon Mountain, beneath which lived over three hundred households. When the region suffered severe drought, the local deity Su Gong, witnessing the people's suffering, was filled with remorse. He reflected: "The young and strong here labor diligently in the fields while the elderly rest—this shows their filial piety. Though burdened with heavy taxes and corvée labor, they never complain—this proves their loyalty. When plowing, they invariably make offerings to Heaven and Earth, presenting sacrifices according to the fertility of their fields—this demonstrates reverence. At harvest, they never taste the grain before offering it—this reveals their obedience. Such loyal, filial, reverent, and obedient people suffering drought must surely be my fault."

Thereupon, Su Gong petitioned the celestial court. With heavenly permission, he mobilized the power of earth deities and collaborated with local craftsmen to divert water from the Ba River, bringing three days of nourishing rain that ensured a bountiful harvest. In gratitude, the people renamed the area "Jiaze" (Blessed Marsh), and over time, more settlers were drawn to dwell there.

The fortieth transformation tells of filial piety moving Heaven. By the Han River lived a chaste widow named Yang Jing (pronounced "Jing") from a scholarly family, who married the impoverished scholar Yong Youzhang. After her husband's early death, she vowed to remain chaste. Though destitute with an aged, ailing mother-in-law, she refused remarriage, saying: "Those seeking my hand desire either beauty or wealth. Since my family's misfortune has left me with neither, any suitors must covet my youth and health alone. How could I abandon my elderly mother-in-law and forget my wedded husband to remarry?"

Yang Jing barely survived by sewing and laundering for others, eschewing cosmetics and even disfiguring herself to demonstrate resolve. She declared: "Only after my mother-in-law's passing might remarriage be considered." In contrast, a grave robber who desecrated tombs by day met retribution—not only divine punishment for sacrilege but demonic execution for his greed and cruelty. This tale illustrates how upholding virtue earns celestial protection, while wickedness invites heavenly wrath.

(Note: "Needlework" refers to women's handicrafts; "sacrificial grains" denote temple offerings; "earth deities" are local land gods; "divination" indicates marriage matchmaking. Through contrasting the widow's virtue with the robber's vice, the story manifests the principle of karmic retribution.)

This passage recounts two stories about karmic retribution, using parables to illustrate the principles of seeking offspring.

The first story tells of a chaste widow named Yang from Shu region, who supported herself through needlework for six years and properly buried her mother-in-law according to ritual. When thieves stole her treasured possessions while she was away, the local earth god (a minor Daoist deity overseeing local affairs) Kang Chaosheng noticed the theft. As the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) happened to pass by, Kang dispatched thirty underworld soldiers to apprehend the thieves. After publicly returning the stolen goods, the chief thief bit off all ten fingers and died.

The second story uses tree cultivation as a metaphor for seeking offspring: While continuing one's lineage is important, the key lies in nurturing virtuous causes with sincere effort. Impatience brings only trouble, just as over-tending plants yields contrary results. By aiding widows and orphans while cultivating benevolent compassion, one naturally receives divine protection (shenbao) and the gift of noble offspring.

The narrative then describes Wang Shangzhong, a wealthy man from northern Shu suburbs. Childless past forty, he anxiously took concubines (ying referring to secondary wives) yet remained heirless. After adopting a clansman's child, his impatient temperament led him to beat and replace wives over minor grievances, and to banish his adopted son for educational disagreements. The more desperately he sought solutions, the worse his methods became. Later, he conducted grand rituals (fashi) and summoned male shamans (xi) for month-long prayers to no avail.

The Imperial Lord of Zitong manifested as a lay practitioner to enlighten him: "Peach and plum trees need proper soil and watering, but premature pruning for quick growth, constant transplanting and over-fertilizing will prevent fruiting. How does your quest for offspring differ?" Advising self-cultivation first, he urged Wang to reform his conduct, practice tolerance, retain suitable concubines while properly dismissing unsuitable ones.

The first section recounts the manifestation of the Divine Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary success and official rank) to encourage virtuous deeds. A clansman adopted two orphans and steadfastly accumulated virtue (De): he arranged marriages for thirteen maidservants, helped his two adopted sons find wives, divided family property to establish their independence, buried over fifty impoverished elders' parents, and facilitated marriages for more than eighty impoverished men and women. Three years later, he was indeed blessed with a noble son named "Divine Protection," who later inherited the family estate. This illustrates divine retribution for virtuous conduct.

The 42nd transformation, "Reversing the Flames," serves as a warning against fraternal strife. Yufu, ruler of the ancient Shu kingdom, enfeoffed his younger brother as Marquis of Ju in Jiameng (modern-day Guangyuan, Sichuan). When the Marquis later sent envoys to demand wealth from his elder brother and was refused, he set fire to the Shu royal treasury. Hearing this, the Divine Lord of Zitong commanded the Wind God to reverse the flames and publicly exposed the Marquis's unrighteousness, resulting in the Ju envoys being consumed by the fire. Thereafter, the two states warred for three years, yet Ju could never prevail.

The 43rd transformation, "Pacifying Ju," continues the tale: the King of Shu sent an envoy, Zhuang Su, to negotiate peace, but the Marquis of Ju refused. At this point, the Divine Lord of Zitong manifested divine troops to intimidate him, and the Marquis, mistaking this for a Shu ambush, hastily sued for peace. Afterwards, the King of Shu erected a temple north of the capital to honor the Divine Lord of Zitong. Through this account of divine intervention quelling conflict, the story emphasizes that brothers must live in harmony—lest they invite heavenly punishment.

This story recounts the tale of Fei Ding, a loyal minister from the Shu region. During his lifetime, his outspoken remonstrations brought him misfortune, yet after death his unyielding spirit remained devoted to his kingdom.

In the Shu Kingdom, there were five extraordinarily strong Fei brothers (known as the Five Dings) who used brute strength to transport earth and stone from Mount Wudu for the Shu king, piling the queen's tomb mound as high as a mountain—later called "Wudan Mountain." The king, excessively favoring these brothers, spent all his time with them, believing their protection made border defenses unnecessary, so he dismantled watchtowers and beacon stations.

At this point, the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) manifested as a scholar named Zhang Sheng of Beiguo, risking his life to admonish the king: "I have heard that virtue (De) governs a kingdom to prosperity, while reliance on brute force leads to ruin. Since ancient times, sage kings have never depended solely on martial prowess. Those five Fei brothers possess mere physical strength without virtue—even if each could match ten or a hundred men, what good would it do?"

He cited historical examples: mighty warriors like Elai and Feilian failed to save King Zhou of Shang; Hou Yi, despite his peerless archery, met a violent end; and recently, the immensely strong Di tribesmen on the borders had been annihilated. Unfortunately, the Shu king dismissed this as "demonic talk to mislead the masses," not only destroying the Imperial Lord of Zitong's temple but continuing to indulge the five strongmen.

The story also mentions Wudan Mountain's origin: the Shu king Kaiming, infatuated with a mountain spirit transformed into a beautiful woman, built the colossal tomb out of longing after her death. This detail foreshadows the king's downfall through sensual indulgence and neglect of state affairs, sowing the seeds of his kingdom's eventual demise.

This account tells the story of how the Divine Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity) manifested as stone oxen, reflecting the political rivalry between the Qin and Shu states during the Warring States period.

At that time, the Shu kingdom was prosperous and powerful. The Qin state sought to annex Shu but was hindered by the treacherous mountain roads. King Hui of Qin adopted strategist Sima Cuo's scheme: five massive stone oxen were carved at the Qin-Shu border, with gold secretly placed beneath their tails. Rumors were spread that these oxen could excrete gold. When the Shu king learned of this, he sent men to collect the gold for several months, amassing over a thousand jin. Believing the tale, he ordered the Five Mighty Men (Wuding Lishi) to carve a path through the mountains and dispatched five thousand soldiers to haul the oxen back to Shu.

The Divine Lord of Zitong, taking the form of a Confucian scholar named Zhong Gong Zichang, warned the king of the dangers of opening the roads and that the gold was no blessing. But the Shu king refused to listen, declaring: "Heaven and Earth do not hoard their treasures—these gold-excreting oxen are an auspicious gift from the gods to enrich our state and strengthen our armies." In the end, the scheme proved a trap—Qin used the newly opened roads to launch a full-scale invasion.

The narrative also weaves in the feud between the Divine Lord and the Five Mighty Men: earlier, the Five Mighty Men, emboldened by the king's favor, had tried to humiliate the deity's incarnation. When the Lord vanished, they falsely accused him of being a demon and destroyed his temple—yet the Lord bore no grudge.

Through the "golden oxen" ruse, this tale exposes the folly of pursuing petty gains while ignoring long-term dangers, while also illustrating the Divine Lord's magnanimity in returning virtue for malice. Qin's strategy exploited the Shu king's greed and shortsightedness, ultimately leading to Shu's downfall.

This passage recounts the story of how the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity overseeing literary fortune) manifested to warn the Kingdom of Shu:

The State of Qin sought to annex Shu but first pretended to gift stone oxen that could excrete gold. The King of Shu credulously believed this ruse. Later, Qin proposed a marriage alliance, offering to send five noblewomen to wed the Shu ruler. Overjoyed, the king dispatched five superhuman warriors to escort the brides at the border. At this critical moment, the Imperial Lord transformed into a Confucian scholar to admonish the king, revealing Qin's treacherous plot. But the ruler not only ignored the warning but even threatened to execute him. The deity then manifested his wrathful divine form, scattering the royal guards in terror.

When the five warriors returned with the Qin princesses, the entire Shu kingdom celebrated without realizing impending disaster. The Imperial Lord manifested his colossal divine image south of Jianmen Mountain as final warning, yet the people remained obstinately deluded. Ultimately, Qin seized the opportunity to invade, bringing calamity upon Shu.

The text's "transformation through five women" refers to how these Qin brides became Shu's undoing, while "manifestation through divine revelation" signifies the deity's supernatural warnings. This parable cautions that coveting petty gains and trusting powerful neighbors leads to national ruin, while honest counsel often falls on deaf ears.

This scripture recounts a miraculous episode in which the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) manifested as Zhang Zhongzi. The people of Qin and Shu were astonished by celestial omens, hearing a jade voice from heaven proclaiming that the Shu king's mandate had expired while the Qin king's rise was ordained. Though Zhang Zhongzi (the incarnation of the Imperial Lord of Zitong) sought to dissuade this turn of events, heaven's decree proved immutable.

When five mighty warriors (the Five Ding) attempted to capture him, the fleeing deity was compelled to reveal his divine powers—his body swelling a hundredfold as he pierced through a mountain peak with his head. The resulting tremors and landslides caused the Five Ding and their Qin consorts to plunge to their deaths. Though Shu was ultimately annexed by Qin, the Imperial Lord expressed no regret over these events.

Chapter 48, "The Great Elixir Transformation," records in verse: Laozi (the Daoist patriarch), who abhorred warfare, traveled westward in magnificent procession to spread the Dao, escorted by deities wherever he went. The text affirms that maintaining impartiality while devoted to alchemical practice enables transcendence beyond life and death.

Later passages describe the Imperial Lord's pilgrimage to Mount Kongtong after Shu's fall, where he encountered Laozi journeying westward with two Perfected Ones. Mountain deities recognized this as an auspicious passage of sages. Paying homage to the Divine Lord of Western Peak and local spirits, the Imperial Lord seized the opportunity to recount his merits and faults in Shu before Laozi. The patriarch praised his three admonitions to Shu's king as virtuous service, judging the deaths of the Five Ding couples as stemming from impartial justice rather than transgression. Though the kingdom's name changed to Qin, its people remained children of Shu's land, and Laozi instructed him to continue protecting this territory.

Through this mythic narrative, the scripture elucidates key Daoist principles: the inevitability of celestial mandate and the primacy of impartial virtue, while illustrating the dynamic interactions between deities and cultivators.

During the sacrificial rites in Shu, to pacify the people, the deity (Emperor Zitong) commanded his attendant Xu Jia to retrieve a golden elixir (Jindan) from his medicine pouch and hand it to me, saying: "This is a precious golden elixir—you must ingest it. Consuming the great elixir (Dadan) aligns one with the Dao, while the golden elixir unifies spirit and mind. Thereafter, you shall attain the five supernatural powers (referring to divine sight, divine hearing, and other transcendent abilities), far surpassing your former self."

The deity lamented the incessant warfare of the Central Plains, weary of such turmoil, and resolved to journey westward to spread the Dao. He prophesied that after three hundred years, Buddhism would flourish in the West and eventually reach the Central Plains, urging me to remain steadfast in my faith. I reverently accepted this prophecy and the elixir.

Chapter 49 recounts a teaching from Ba Prefecture (modern-day Chongqing): When handling affairs, one must never obscure their conscience—once the mind grows dim, calamity is certain to follow. Those who scheme with cunning will ultimately face punishment; those who boast of luck will meet retribution; and those who thunder judgments in court, wielding authority harshly, will reap what they sow. Even two hundred lashes would be insufficient to absolve them—they must endure thirty days of suffering to reflect deeply.

Rebuilding temples was never the true intent; the only wish was to transmit the genuine Dao to those who understood.

Historical context: After the Qin state annexed Shu, it dispatched Zhang Yi to capture the King of Ba and seize his lands, establishing Ba Prefecture. At the time, the acting governor Yi Tingyi presided over a murder case: Zhang Wei, a local resident, was accused of killing his servant Wan Zhen, whose body was found in a well. Zhang Wei was tortured for over a month until he falsely confessed to murder and disposing of the corpse. In truth, Wan Zhen had been punished by Zhang Wei for a prior mistake. Three days later, he stole money intending to flee but was caught and, fearing further punishment, took his own life. After the case was closed, Zhang Wei’s son offered a bribe of a hundred large pearls. Yi Tingyi hinted to his physician to conceal the bribe in a medicine box for later delivery. But when the gift was publicly presented, he suddenly regretted it, fearing exposure and scandal, and returned it untouched. In the end, Zhang Wei was still wrongfully sentenced to death (Dabi), and his son wept bitterly through the streets.

(Note: The "five supernatural powers" refer to five divine abilities; "Dabi" was an ancient form of capital punishment; "zhongliu" refers to the center of a house, here meaning the inner chambers.)

The Transformation Book of Emperor Zitong records two karmic retribution stories:

The first tale illustrates the retribution for jewelry theft. A man cried out to heaven about his grievance, questioning whether deities could perceive his injustice. It was later discovered that Tingyi and his son had switched the jewels—Tingyi secretly replaced genuine pearls with fakes from his medicine chest. Coveting the jewels yet fearing the governor's discovery, they dared not alter the accounts. Consequently, Tingyi received two hundred lashes, and the next day all interrogated witnesses confirmed the crime. Stranger still, poisonous sores suddenly erupted on Tingyi's back. After wailing in agony for over a month, he died. Locals built a temple to commemorate this event, and the entire prefecture grew more reverent toward divine justice.

The second story, "Transformation in Posuo," takes place on Mount Posuo in the Ba-Shu region. The mountain deity Yuan Anxing arrived by the Yu River in Ba Commandery, praising the local people for their diligence, trustworthiness, filial piety toward ancestors, and reverence for spirits. They would only act after confirming auspicious signs through turtle-shell divination (an ancient divination method). The text notes that Shu was divided into four commanderies during the Qin dynasty, all under Shu's jurisdiction.

It then recounts Zhou Fu, originally surnamed Yuan but later adopting the common surname Yuan. Born under inauspicious astrological signs, his grandfather demanded the child be abandoned. However, his father Pingshu couldn't bear it and secretly raised him until age three. When presented to the grandfather on New Year's Day (Zhengdan, the first day of the lunar year), the grandfather raged: "Do you want this ill-fated child to overcome me with his harsh destiny?" As Pingshu left with the boy, they met his friend Zhou Ning—who, being childless, adopted the boy with the agreement to return him if Zhou Ning later had biological sons.

Both stories emphasize karmic retribution and filial ethics: the first demonstrates how evil inevitably invites divine punishment, while the second reflects ancient superstitions about birth charts through the abandonment episode, alongside the traditional belief that "among unfilial acts, having no heir is the gravest." The text mentions "turtle-shell divination" (zhan guishi) as an ancient practice, and "Zhengdan" refers to lunar New Year's Day.

This passage recounts the family conflicts surrounding the incarnation of Emperor Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) as Yuan Fu. Originally born into the Zhou family, Yuan Fu's circumstances changed when the Zhou household fell into decline, causing the initial agreements to be forgotten. Yuan Pingshu (Yuan Fu's biological father) frequently visited Yuan Fu and provided assistance during times of crisis on multiple occasions.

Yuan Pingshu privately believed Yuan Fu to be his own son and eventually found an opportunity to reveal the truth of his origins. Unexpectedly, Yuan Fu's younger brother overheard this and immediately berated Yuan Pingshu, driving him away. The next day, the younger brother even filed a complaint with the local authorities. The officials deemed Yuan Pingshu's claims false and subjected him to flogging (an ancient whipping punishment). In response, Yuan Pingshu burned incense atop his head to appeal to the deities.

An Xing (likely a local official), upon understanding the details, recognized this wasn't Yuan Fu's true intention but found it difficult to make an immediate judgment. Later, Emperor Zitong appeared to Yuan Fu in a dream, showing him visions of being abandoned at birth by his biological father and subsequently raised by his adoptive father. Yuan Fu awoke from the dream in tears, contemplating suicide, yet restrained himself due to ongoing legal proceedings initiated by his younger brother.

Emperor Zitong appeared again in another dream, reproaching Yuan Fu for failing to acknowledge his true parentage promptly, and administered a hundred strikes in the dream as punishment. After waking, Yuan Fu remained sleepless throughout the night. The following day, he knelt before the Yuan family's gate, confessing to Yuan Pingshu: "Yuan Fu failed to realize sooner that he was truly your flesh and blood. Now the deities have made this clear..."

This scripture recounts how the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) mediated a dispute between two dragons.

After the fall of the Zhou dynasty, the Nine Tripods symbolizing royal authority were moved westward, and mountain and river deities across the land submitted to the Mandate of Heaven. Two dragons met at the confluence of the Qingyi and Min Rivers, clashing over control of the waterways. Their struggle caused catastrophic floods, submerging thousands of households along both banks. Displaced refugees wailed in despair across the ravaged land.

Witnessing this, the Imperial Lord first dispatched tens of thousands of Yin troops (spirit soldiers under divine command) to stem the deluge, then personally entered the waters to mediate. He admonished the dragons: "The Mandate of Heaven has been renewed, yet you cling to old grievances and bring calamity upon the people. Were it not for my soldiers holding back these waters, all lives here would be lost. Heaven values the virtue of nurturing life (De) — you may yet repent in time." After the dragons acknowledged their wrongdoing, the Imperial Lord permitted them to continue their journey, stipulating they return for judgment after paying homage to the Sea God.

When the dragons later returned, the Imperial Lord had them swear an oath before two great boulders on the eastern and western banks: to coexist in eternal harmony. Channeling his spiritual power (Qi), he raised the twin monoliths as eternal witnesses, declaring: "Only if these stones merge as one shall this vow be broken." With these words, he released the dragons.

Through this legend of divine conflict causing mortal suffering, the parable conveys a warning against "deities warring at the people's expense," embodying the Daoist ethos of "revering Heaven and cherishing the people." Key concepts include "Yin troops" (spirit armies under celestial command) and "paying homage" (river deities' obligatory tribute to the Sea God) — both distinctive to Daoist cosmology.

[Note: The translation preserves specialized terms like "Yin troops" (阴兵) and "Mandate of Heaven" (天命) without parenthetical pinyin after their first occurrence, as they're either transparent in context ("Yin troops") or established sinological terms ("Mandate of Heaven"). The deity's title "Imperial Lord" follows standard renditions of 帝君 (Dijun) in Daoist contexts.]

At the foot of Guo Mountain lived a wealthy man named Wang Ji who had reached fifty without a son. One day after feasting, he glanced sideways at his wife and said, "People seek wealth and status to enjoy provisions during life and ancestral sacrifices after death. Now I possess such riches yet lack an heir—what use is this fortune?" His wife, Lady An, came from an eminent family herself. Having long been unable to conceive, she had grown stern and jealous. These words struck her with deep shame.

Lady An used her dowry money to purchase a maiden surnamed Liu as her husband's concubine. Within a year, Liu became pregnant. Overjoyed, Lady An burned incense morning and night to pray to Heaven and Earth, always voicing the wish "to continue the Wang family line." Upon learning of the pregnancy, she gave Liu her own clothes and jewelry, attending to her every need with meticulous care. A month before the due date, Lady An hired a midwife in preparation. When Liu bore a son, Lady An was ecstatic. She personally handled the nursing, diaper changes, and washing, treating the child as her own.

Seeing his wife's virtue, Wang Ji named the boy "Yishou" (Fit for Long Life) at his hundred-day celebration—fulfilling Lady An's heartfelt wish. Soon after, she hired a wet nurse specifically for the child, telling Liu, "Though you're my servant, you've shared equal comforts since arriving. Now that I consider this boy my flesh and blood, focus on recuperating." From then on, she treated Liu with even greater kindness.

This passage recounts the tragic story of Liu and her son being forcibly separated. When Liu's son Yishou was just one year old, her husband An insisted on marrying her off to another family. Liu wept bitterly and refused, declaring she would rather live in hardship with her son until death. Enraged, An shouted, "Do you think you can take my place?" He then beat her, forced her to wear coarse clothing, fed her food fit only for pigs and dogs, and treated her like a beast of burden.

Three years later, Yishou ran into his mother’s arms, weeping. Liu said to him, "I’ve endured hunger, cold, and hardship for you without regret, but for over a month I haven’t seen you—do you still remember your mother?" The child’s cries alerted An, who burst in, snatched the boy away, and savagely beat Liu with a stick. It was the dead of winter, yet An stripped her naked and drove her out of the house. The next day, he summoned the local bailiff to have her permanently banished.

Later, some urged An to take Liu back, but he declared, "That beast and I cannot coexist under the same sky. Either I die, or she leaves." In the end, he gave her only a few tattered clothes as travel money. Prolonged starvation left Liu emaciated, her hair falling out, reduced to scavenging like a beggar in the city. Eventually, she encountered a family named Wang who were relocating to Tongzhou and took her with them. Over a year later, An learned of this and sent a letter berating the family, forcing Liu out once more. She survived by taking odd jobs, barely scraping by.

Twenty-four years later, both of Yishou’s parents had died, and he now had a ten-year-old son, Zhiwei. One day, he suddenly said to his wife, Kang, "Our family lacks nothing in wealth, but my birth mother’s fate remains unknown. This weighs on me day and night—my hair has turned white by thirty." Entrusting the household affairs to his wife and urging her to care for their child, he resolved to journey north in search of his mother, vowing to return only after finding her.

The "Transformation Records of the Imperial Lord Zitong" documents two accounts of spiritual resonance.

The first narrative recounts Wang Yishou's quest to find his mother. Having been away from home for years, Yishou one day heard an elderly woman gathering firewood near Phoenix Mountain at the confluence of the Ba and Qu rivers, crying out "Yishou" under the scorching sun. Upon inquiry, he discovered this was his birth mother whom he hadn't seen for decades. Remarkably, Yishou had dreamt the previous night of reuniting with his mother, with every detail of the location matching reality perfectly. Three days later, he indeed encountered his firewood-carrying mother at Phoenix Mountain's base and brought his eighty-year-old mother home to care for her.

The second story, titled "Transformation in Fish Belly," exposes the patriarchal customs of Shu region. By the Fu River, wealthy Ren Ying had only a daughter named Baozhu. At fifteen during a silkworm market lantern festival, the girl was abducted by rogue Zanyuan and sold to Kuimen. Despite offering rewards and years of searching that left her father blind from weeping and her mother ill with worry, no trace was found for a decade. In final desperation, Ren Ying performed the most reverent Daoist prostration—kneeling with elbows touching ground—to plead with the deities at Seven Twists Mountain.

(Note: Seven Twists Mountain is the sacred origin of Imperial Lord Zitong worship. The "elbow-walking knee-stepping" prostration represents Daoism's most solemn ritual gesture, signifying utmost devotion.)

The first passage recounts the story of how the Divine Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) saved a maidservant named Baozhu. Sold successively to four different masters, Baozhu suffered extreme abuse in the household of Zhang Bai. When she became pregnant, the mistress, fearing responsibility, plotted to drown her in the river. Baozhu's father, guided by divine revelation in a dream, ultimately redeemed his daughter. As for Zan Yuan—the villain who persecuted Baozhu—he was punished by divine order: the celestial guardian generals (Daoist protector deities known as Gongcao) flogged him three hundred times daily. After little more than a month, he went blind and was reduced to beggary before dying in agony. Collapsed on the street, he confessed that this suffering was retribution for tormenting Baozhu, now exacted by Divine Lord Zhang of Qiqu Mountain (an epithet for the Zitong deity).

The second passage contains the Divine Lord's admonition on verbal karma (the negative consequences of harmful speech): The karmic repercussions of careless words in human life are severe—one must never utter false or exaggerated statements. Fabricating lies as truth or inflating trivial matters accumulates sin in the underworld registers. Long before facing the hellish punishment of tongue-extraction, such offenders receive manifest retribution in their present existence.

The text illustrates this with the example of Zhu Qisheng from Guicheng, who abused his eloquence to mock others relentlessly: he jeered at physical imperfections, slandered the beautiful, scorned the dull-witted, nitpicked the intelligent, disparaged the poor, and defamed the wealthy. To officials he spread private scandals; to friends he exposed their vulnerabilities. When encountering those whose lineage or talents surpassed his own beyond reproach, he maligned their ancestors as lowborn. Through these concrete examples, the passage demonstrates the manifold evils wrought by malicious speech.

This passage illustrates the karmic consequences of harmful speech. There was a merchant who habitually spoke maliciously of others: he belittled his mother-in-law's family as petty traders, dismissed his wife's relatives as common folk, condemned his younger brother as morally corrupt, and deemed his own son worthless. Nearly everyone he knew became a target of his verbal abuse.

But this was mild compared to his other transgressions. At the slightest misstep by others, he would exaggerate and spread rumors—turning nothing into something, magnifying trivial matters into major scandals, presenting conjecture as fact, portraying accidental mistakes as deliberate acts, and interpreting helpless choices as calculated schemes. He humiliated people both to their faces and behind their backs, even betraying family secrets. Not even his own kin were spared—he called his parents stubborn fools and likened his brothers to the treasonous lords Guan Shu and Cai Shu from the Zhou dynasty.

He incited others to file lawsuits while posing as a mediator; encouraged people to curse each other, then pretended to reconcile them. After years of such verbal transgressions, he developed a strange illness in middle age—his tongue turned yellow. Doctors treated him with bloodletting acupuncture, but the condition would recur within days of temporary relief. It flared up five or six times a year, each time requiring the drainage of over a liter of blood.

One day, while discussing supernatural matters with his disciple, he blamed ghosts and deities for abnormal weather and poor harvests, even slandering ancestral worship traditions. By chance, the River Deity overheard this. Local earth god Yu Qishu remarked, "This reveals but one ten-thousandth of his sins!" The deity then dispatched celestial officer Miao Zhen to punish him—forcing him to pull out his own tongue with his hands and scrape it with his nails until blood and saliva gushed like a slaughtered pig or dog. Hundreds gathered to witness his public confession: "Such is the retribution for wicked speech!" After over a month of torment, his tongue withered, leaving him unable to eat until he died.

The Fifty-Fifth Transformation (the story of Dongguo Xiansheng enlightening the world) warns: Even livelihood pursuits demand ethical means. This merchant used dishonest scales, sold inferior goods as premium, and relied entirely on ruthless scheming. When his karma ripened, he went blind, lost his skills, and suffered crippled fingers that destroyed his craftsmanship. These worldly punishments were mild compared to the whipping his soul endured after death.

The region of Shu Commandery had poor soil, and its people were mostly clever and cunning, excelling at calculations. Even in the marketplace, vendors would counterfeit goods worth barely a single coin. There was a man named Li Yongzheng from the eastern suburbs, originally a wheelwright by trade. Finding the work too laborious and poorly paid, he switched to crafting measuring instruments.

He began by making dou and hu grain measures, then later turned to scales. Within a year, some offered him high prices to make "deep measures" with recessed bottoms and "heavy scales" with weighted counterbalances, while others paid him to create under-measuring devices—making a spoon hold a sheng's capacity or a ge measure a dou's worth, shaving weight from the smallest units. Li even invented the "hollow-joint scale" with hidden mechanisms and the "collapsible-bottom dou" with movable flooring. These cheating tools became wildly popular among petty profiteers.

When the celestial censors reported this, the heavenly court ruled that while the users were at fault, the maker bore greater guilt. The local earth god, Duan Yan, was sent to whip Li Yongzheng in a dream as warning. Though briefly shaken, Li refused to repent. Instead, his growing notoriety brought so many orders that he worked day and night until, at forty, he went completely blind. His wife remarried, and both sons were born sightless.

Even blind, Li clung to his craft, using his hands as eyes to estimate measurements. His left fingers grew daily more injured—festering, scabbing, and reopening until the joints rotted away. Reduced to begging in the streets, his lamentations drew no pity from those who knew him. After three years of hunger and cold, he died suddenly, followed shortly by his starving sons. Gradually, fewer people used his measuring devices.

Chapter 56, "The Transformation of Ox Mountain," teaches: Good deeds bear sweet fruit; evil acts reap bitter harvests. Should one complain of heaven's injustice, behold the fate of cruel and crafty men. Just as rice seeds yield grain without fear of thorns growing into towering trees, so too does cause and effect flow as precisely as rainwater dripping from eaves—never missing its mark.

(Note: Ox Mountain stands where the Fu and Qi Rivers converge in Shu Commandery, its slopes cradling a bustling town below.)

This scripture recounts the contrasting stories of two men with diametrically opposed characters—Gou Xin and Su Zhen.

Gou Xin was a man of fairness, generosity, and integrity, straightforward in his dealings with others. He was filial to his mother, strict in educating his children, lived frugally, maintained harmonious relationships with both superiors and subordinates, and often shielded others' faults while avoiding gossip. Su Zhen, on the other hand, was the exact opposite—harsh, greedy, fond of scheming, outwardly flattering but inwardly deceitful. He showed no respect for his father, indulged his wife in disrespectful behavior, lived extravagantly, and frequently exposed others' secrets while spreading rumors. The villagers regarded Gou Xin as a virtuous man and Su Zhen as a wicked one.

At a year-end banquet, the village elder Zhou Tong drew a metaphor from the "clear and turbid rivers": "In the land of Qin, two rivers—the Wei and the Jing—flow into the Yellow River, one clear and the other muddy. Even a child can tell them apart." He implied that Gou Xin and Su Zhen were like these two distinct rivers. Before he could finish, Su Zhen flushed crimson with shame, flung his sleeve, and stormed off, saying, "Gou Xin is the Wei River, and I am the Jing!"

Su Zhen believed Gou Xin had publicly denounced his misdeeds, but in truth, Gou Xin had never spoken ill of him to others. From then on, whenever Su Zhen encountered Gou Xin, he glared at him with barely concealed rage—outwardly maintaining decorum but seething with resentment. Through this contrast between the two men’s conduct, the story vividly illustrates the clear distinction between good and evil.

This account narrates stories of karmic retribution. The Imperial Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) recorded several cases demonstrating how good and evil deeds receive their due rewards.

There was a man named Mingneng who plotted to harm Yizhen. Pretending friendship, he invited Yizhen for a walk by the riverbank and suddenly pushed him into the water. In his panic, Yizhen grabbed Mingneng’s clothes, dragging both of them into the river. At the time, the water deities were attending a banquet, so the Imperial Lord of Zitong commanded the Dragon Kings of the Qijiang and Fujiang rivers to rescue them. Knowing the true nature of the two men, the Dragon Kings deliberately saved the virtuous Yizhen, bringing him safely ashore, while allowing the malicious Mingneng to sink into the depths. Later, a man named Zhen attempted to save Mingneng but was instead pulled underwater by Yizhen. The onlookers mocked this clear example of evil reaping its own consequences, and the Imperial Lord of Zitong then ordered the Qijiang Dragon King to drag Zhen down as well. In the end, both the wicked father and son drowned, leaving the people marveling at the impartial justice of the divine.

The fifty-seventh story recounts a miracle brought about by filial piety. A young woman named Yu Shi served her mother-in-law, Huang Shi, who was over eighty years old, blind, and ill-tempered. For three years, Yu Shi attended to her with unwavering devotion, eventually softening her mother-in-law’s heart through sincerity. Later, when lightning struck and set fire to the house, Yu Shi happened to be away, while Ma Shi, who had mistreated the elderly woman, perished in the flames. This illustrates how Heaven dispenses fortune and misfortune according to one’s virtue—Yu Shi was spared disaster due to her filial piety, while the wicked suffered the consequences of their actions.

These stories embody a core Daoist belief: retribution for good and evil follows as closely as a shadow. A person’s fortune or misfortune depends on the karma (the causal force of one’s deeds) accumulated through their conduct. The virtuous, like Yu Shi and Yizhen, ultimately receive blessings, while evildoers such as Mingneng, Zhen, and Ma Shi inevitably meet with retribution.

This scripture recounts a karmic retribution story. A woman named Yu accidentally knocked out two of someone's teeth while drunk and thought the matter resolved after paying compensation. But one night, she dreamed of underworld officers coming to arrest her, revealing her past misdeeds: at thirty years old, she had been bedridden with illness for over a year. Her seventy-year-old mother-in-law cooked porridge for her daily, yet Yu repeatedly scolded and cursed the elderly woman for bringing the porridge too frequently or too hot. The day before her death, she even cried out to heaven in resentment, demanding why her seventy-year-old mother-in-law remained alive while she—at thirty—had to die. These complaints were reported to the Heavenly Emperor by the Director of Fate (the deity governing human lifespans), who sentenced her to posthumous punishment by thunderstrike and corpse burning, though the sentence hadn't been carried out at the time.

The underworld officers informed her that because she had shown filial piety in her current life, they were giving her advance notice to settle this karmic debt (retribution accumulated from past lives). Yu woke at midnight weeping bitterly. With her husband away and her mother-in-law assuming she grieved over dowry matters, Yu bathed at dawn, changed into fresh clothes, and bid farewell to her mother-in-law: "For three years I've failed to care for you properly. Now I must take leave to visit my parents—I fear this journey has no return." She gave similar farewells to her own parents before burning incense beneath a large tree south of the house, praying to heaven: "I accept my death willingly, yet grieve for my poor husband and aged mother-in-law with no one to tend them, and shame for failing my parents' nurturing kindness."

This passage recounts two stories illustrating the principle of karmic retribution.

The first story tells of a woman seven months pregnant who faced threefold adversity: her parents enduring humiliation, her own pregnancy, and the potential extinction of her family line. She prayed to extend her life by three months so she could deliver her child before dying. During an intense summer heatwave, dark clouds suddenly gathered with thunder and wind. Later, the wealthy local Zhang Shi's wife Ma-shi, who had mistreated her mother-in-law and bullied her husband, was punished by the Thunder Fire Deity and burned to death, while the pregnant woman's life was spared.

The second story teaches the consequences of fraternal discord. Yong Di and Yong Yuan were blood brothers both serving in government office. The elder brother Yong Di constantly created difficulties for his younger sibling, even quarreling over trivial family assets. When they divided the household, Yong Di seized all property and demanded regular tributes from his brother. Once encountering his brother on the road, he flogged him for failing to bow in greeting. Yong Di's wife went further by dragging her sister-in-law from their home to beat her, hypocritically claiming "ritual propriety demands respect for seniority."

Through these two examples, the scripture admonishes people to value familial ethics. The first story demonstrates how deities punish the unfilial while protecting the virtuous; the second warns of the bitter fruits of fraternal strife, advocating household harmony. The phrase "wild geese flying in harmonious formation" serves as a metaphor for the beautiful image of brothers living in concord.

This account narrates how the Imperial Lord of Zitong (the Daoist venerated deity Wenchang Dijun) used the instructive deeds of the Mu family to admonish worldly people.

In Sichuan, there was a man named Li Hua whose father fathered a younger son, Li Wei, with a maidservant in his old age. On his deathbed, the father exhorted Li Hua to treat this half-brother kindly. With tearful consent, Li Hua raised Li Wei as his own flesh and blood—not only hiring renowned tutors for his education but also arranging his marriage. Later, when Li Hua's son Maming offended Li Wei with harsh words, Li Hua immediately disciplined his son. After Maming repented, he even relinquished the entire family estate to his uncle, sustaining himself solely on his official salary, earning widespread praise for his virtue in the community.

Meanwhile, a local man named Di insulted the Mu family during the Autumn She Festival (an important ancient harvest ritual honoring the earth deity). Retribution followed swiftly: first his arm broke, then his wife developed hand sores. Within three years, their household collapsed, both parents died, and the couple ultimately perished as beggars. The governor consequently honored the Li family as the "Gate of Exalted Righteousness."

The concluding verses clarify the moral: worldly habits easily make people lose their innate purity. Only virtuous scholars like Mu Lin—who found contentment in poverty while devoted to the Dao (a recluse scholar from Dangqu County who studied behind closed doors year-round)—truly preserve the great Dao of ancient sage-kings. Though Sichuan had gradually adopted civilized customs since its incorporation into central China during the Qin dynasty, simple honesty remained underdeveloped while pretentiousness proliferated. Concerned about deteriorating morals, the Imperial Lord of Zitong deliberately employed the Mu family's blessings and Di family's misfortunes as moral instruction, hoping to reform Sichuan's Confucian scholars by returning them to unadulterated nature.

[Note: "Autumn She" refers to the significant ancient festival for earth deity worship, while "official commendation" denotes governmental recognition of exemplary virtue.]

This passage recounts the story of how the Divine Lord of Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) enlightened the world. It begins with a governor named Wen Yu attempting to recruit a hermit to serve in his administration. He dispatched his subordinate Yi to extend the invitation, but the hermit spoke only of harmonizing with the times, cultivating virtue, and withdrawing from worldly affairs, ultimately declining the offer. Instead of taking offense, Wen Yu admired the hermit's moral integrity.

The narrative then shifts to Su Shanggong, a man who had studied under the hermit Lin but failed to complete his training before establishing his own school. Obsessed with social climbing and flattery, Shanggong was despised by Lin. When Lin admonished him with the Daoist principle that "life, death, wealth, and honor are decreed by Heaven," the arrogant Shanggong, relying on his youthful vigor, threatened physical violence against his former teacher. At this critical moment, the Divine Lord of Zitong manifested as a Confucian scholar named Zhang Zhongzi to mediate.

Addressing the crowd, the deity proclaimed: "Human lifespan and fortunes are ordained by celestial mandate—struggling against them brings no benefit. Those who fail to comprehend Heaven's will and disregard cosmic principles ultimately lose their moral compass, committing acts of disloyalty and filial impiety." Upon hearing this profound teaching, even hardened individuals like Shanggong repented and reformed. The local community subsequently erected a temple to honor the Divine Lord.

The passage concludes with the deity's four-line summation: "Coveting others' possessions is inherently wrong—how much worse when deception is involved? The upright who pray sincerely receive blessings, while the wicked inevitably face retribution. This cosmic justice operates through heavenly principles, not through any partiality in receiving sacrifices." The term "dismembered corpse" (磔尸) alludes to ancient execution methods, symbolizing the grim fate awaiting evildoers.

Key Daoist concepts emerge throughout: aligning with natural order (顺应时势), recognizing celestial mandate (天命), and the inevitable operation of cosmic justice (天理). The story exemplifies the Daoist integration of ethical cultivation with metaphysical principles, where moral behavior aligns with the fundamental patterns of the universe.

Chapter 61 of The Transformation Book of Emperor Zitong presents two cautionary tales about the karmic retribution for killing:

The first story takes place in the northern suburbs. During a mid-spring sacrificial banquet hosted by wealthy man Zhi Quanli, his drunken household fell prey to three bandits led by Wang Cai. The robbers bound nine family members—including seven maidservants—leaving only Zhi's wife and two daughters unrestrained. After looting the property, the outlaws attempted to assault the women. Fifteen-year-old Shunhua defiantly cursed: "You starving thieves dare violate our home? Zhang Shenjun [referring to Emperor Zitong] will never let you escape!" At this critical moment, Zhi's ancestors and household deity Cui Xuan appealed to Emperor Zitong, who immediately dispatched Merit Officer Fuxing with a hundred underworld soldiers. The ropes miraculously untied themselves, all bandits were captured, and they were executed by authorities the next day.

The second account chronicles the retribution of Du Zhang from Qiong region. Born into privilege but raised in a family indulging in lavish feasts, Du grew accustomed to slaughtering animals for culinary pleasures. After his family's fortunes declined, he became a professional butcher accepting "life-taking fees," until gluttony ruined his health. Obsessed with meat, he expanded from butchery to hunting, developing murderous impulses toward any living creature. In middle age, his five sons were all born with missing fingers, plunging the family into destitution. Ultimately covered in festering sores, he threw himself into a well to end his agony.

These narratives illustrate a profound Daoist truth: All living beings cling to life and fear death. Those who slaughter indiscriminately for culinary gratification are essentially substituting themselves for the creatures on their chopping blocks—savoring flavors while oblivious to vengeful spirits seeking retribution. The karmic debts accumulated through privileged indulgence in past lives will inevitably manifest as suffering in present existence.

The Transformation Records of Emperor Zitong (梓潼帝君化书) contains these two accounts documenting how Wenchang Emperor (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes, venerated as "Emperor Zitong") guided mortals through transformative encounters.

The 62nd Transformation, "Transformation Through Cruelty," recounts two incidents: A man who had committed numerous evil deeds still had five years of lifespan remaining. However, observing the depth of his suffering in the mortal realm due to accumulated karma, Emperor Zitong dispatched a Divine Messenger (功曹, Daoist guardian deity) to alter his consciousness. The man began tearing scabs from his sores to eat them and licking pus-blood from his fingers, while warning others against killing—using himself as a cautionary example. After over a year of this torment, he perished before his destined lifespan ended, followed by his children starving to death.

Another account concerns two magistrates: Gongsun Wuzhong of Niubi County, though personally incorruptible, administered such harsh punishments that minor offenses earned subordinates 100-200 cane strikes. Within a year, not a single clerk in his yamen remained unscarred. Meanwhile, Lai En of Zishui County plundered relentlessly, extorting daily expenses from clerks and indiscriminately jailing plaintiffs for his subordinates to exploit. Emperor Zitong manifested as Inspector Sun Yi of Shu Commandery to investigate, impeaching both for tyranny. When the magistrates kowtowed for mercy, the deity admonished them before vanishing. Later, when locals discovered no inspector had actually visited, they recognized divine intervention. Subsequently, Gongsun became compassionate while Lai turned honest.

Though the 63rd Transformation, "Transformation Through Compassion," lacks detailed content, its title suggests Emperor Zitong's merciful manifestations to guide humanity. Both passages emphasize how deities may either transform human hearts or directly manifest to punish wickedness and encourage virtue, demonstrating that officials who oppress the people inevitably face retribution.

The decline of the Zhou dynasty stemmed from its failure to govern with benevolence, and the Ji royal lineage was swiftly replaced by the Qin dynasty of the Ying clan. The Qin regime enforced harsh laws, steeped in violence and deceit, plunging the land into prolonged warfare. Unable to bear witnessing the suffering of the Central Plains' people, I resolved with utmost sincerity to deliver them. Heaven granted its decree in response, promising renewal after the storm.

I once served as an official under Zhou, honored with sacrifices in Shu after my loyal martyrdom. Soon after, Shu was annexed by Qin, followed by Zhou's collapse, leaving the realm entirely under Ying Zheng's rule. The Qin dynasty's draconian laws treated the people as mere grass. As Qin declined, war erupted anew, submerging the heartland in unbearable misery.

Having long cultivated in serene detachment, I sought to alleviate the people's suffering and petitioned the Celestial Emperor. The reply came: "The Child of White Emperor (immortal official embodying Metal Virtue) has overstayed in the mortal realm and has been recalled for his violent excesses. Now the Child of Red Emperor (immortal official embodying Fire Virtue) is dispatched to replace him. You originally governed Fire Virtue and shall now reincarnate to assist the Red Emperor's descendant." Accepting this mandate, I descended.

During my rebirth in Xianyang—though I had been carefree in Shu—worldly duty compelled my return. Yet I failed in my mission to inherit the great lineage, perishing needlessly and sowing enmity. Though enfeoffed as a king, my blessings were shallow, and filial devotion to my mother remained unfulfilled. How I longed to transform into a divine serpent to devour the Lü clan and eradicate this profound calamity.

I implored Heaven to permit my salvific incarnation, delivering the people from suffering into peace. But the Celestial Emperor commanded my rebirth as the Red Emperor's descendant (Liu Bang), and divine will cannot be defied. As I pondered, the Great God of Rebirth Supervision (deity overseeing reincarnation) suddenly urged my descent. Gazing down from the clouds, I saw Qin's palaces in Xianyang now under new rule, with the Han Emperor speaking to Lady Qi. The god declared: "This is the Red Emperor's child, now Han's sovereign." While observing, the deity pushed me into Lady Qi's embrace. The emperor, struck by my extraordinary bone structure and endearing manner, named me "Ruyi" (As You Wish). Though an infant, my steadfast will and dignified bearing deeply pleased him, earning exceptional favor.

This passage recounts a tale of karmic retribution through rebirth, framed within the Daoist concept of "Chengfu" (the cosmic law of cause and effect governing moral retribution):

My elder brother (referring to himself as the Imperial Lord of Zitong), having been despised for his immoral conduct, attempted in his later years to establish me as his heir without success. After the emperor's passing, my mother and I were ultimately murdered by the Lü clan, with my mother suffering particularly brutal treatment. In the netherworld, I witnessed my mother's torment firsthand—so agonizing that I longed to reclaim my draconic form ("shuairan" denoting the serpentine dragon shape) to devour every member of the Lü lineage.

Chapter 65 "Transformation at Qiongchi" records: Those who abuse power inevitably face retribution. The innocent mother and child slain in antiquity carried this blood-deep vengeance into the underworld. Later, the reincarnated Lü clan congregated in Qiongchi County—where Magistrate Lü Mou was none other than the rebirth of Empress Lü, and most local residents were former Lü faction members reborn. My mother reincarnated as Lady Qi; having exhausted her previous life's blessings through excessive comfort, she now endured poverty, married to elderly, childless Zhang the woodcutter.

The aged couple, childless at sixty, slit their arms in the wilderness to let blood drip into a stone hollow while praying to Heaven: "All people may raise offspring, yet we alone remain barren. Now with our vital Qi (life force) waning, may this stone conceive life." Sensing my mother's sincerity, I took form within. The next day when the couple lifted the stone, they discovered the blood had transformed into a golden serpent—my manifested self. My mother nurtured me devotedly until, after a year, horns sprouted on my head and claws emerged beneath my belly (foreshadowing my impending dragon metamorphosis).

This scripture recounts the miraculous manifestation of Lord Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) through shape-shifting:

I possess the ability to transform my appearance. Whenever rain is about to fall, I assist in bringing precipitation. My body grows enormous, and my appetite becomes insatiable—I devour oxen, sheep, pigs, dogs, and horses when I encounter them. The local magistrate owned an exceptionally fine white horse that grazed by the water's edge. When it kicked and injured my foot, I seized and ate it. This was actually the karmic retribution for a debt owed by Lü Chan (a relative of Empress Lü from the Western Han) in a past life. The entire county knew of my deeds, but when officials came to investigate my home, they couldn't find me. So they imprisoned my parents, giving them three days to produce me.

Seeing my parents facing execution due to my actions, on the second day I transformed into a scholar and pleaded with the magistrate. He declared: "The Zhang couple has been raising a demonic serpent that has long preyed on livestock, and now it has eaten my horse. I must eliminate this menace for the people." I reasoned: "Animals devouring one another is the result of past karma. Should you, as a parental official, kill humans over livestock?" The magistrate shouted at me to leave, so I warned him: "Your face bears the mark of death—reflect carefully." With that, I vanished, leaving the entire yamen convinced I was a monster.

I then appealed to the celestial court, explaining how my mother and I had been wrongfully killed by the Lü clan in a past life, and how this was merely balancing the scales of justice. Before receiving a heavenly response, I summoned wind and rain, plunging daylight into darkness. In terror, county residents clutched each other's heads and wailed: "Why have our heads turned into fish?" Overnight, I caused the sea to flood the county town, submerging forty square li of land—yet I alone carried my parents to safety on my back. This became the famous "Submerged River" incident during Emperor Xuan of Han's reign.

Chapter 66 ("Liberation Through Transformation") contains this gatha:

Wrath arises most easily—this very thought is folly.

Reckless action without wisdom, deaf to counsel kindly,

Leads to rebirth in massive form, repaying karmic debts,

Till grievances are settled and collective fury ends.

The Buddha's single phrase dissolves obstructions dark,

Restoring all beings to their original mark.

Final reflection: Though my grievance against Empress Lü's faction was justified when the Celestial Court delayed its response, my unilateral revenge...

This scripture recounts the story of how Emperor Zitong (the Daoist venerated deity Wenchang Dijun) in his previous incarnation as the Dragon King of Qiongchi committed grave offenses before receiving enlightenment through the Buddha's guidance.

The Dragon King of Qiongchi, driven by personal vendettas from past lives, recklessly unleashed floods that submerged over five hundred households, claiming more than two thousand lives. Among the victims, only about eighty were his former adversaries—the rest were innocent commoners. As punishment, the Heavenly Emperor stripped him of his divine office, demoting him to become the Dragon King of Qiongchi under celestial supervision, forbidding him from managing rainfall, and confining him to stagnant waters. Years of severe drought followed, drying the pool into mud, leaving the massive dragon nowhere to hide. Under the scorching sun, his body burned with pain, while countless insects bred within his scales, gnawing at him in unbearable torment.

One dawn, five-colored auspicious clouds suddenly appeared in the sky as Shakyamuni Buddha (founder of Buddhism) manifested in majestic form—his dark blue spiral-curled hair and golden countenance radiant like the bright moon. Mountain deities and river spirits gathered to pay homage, with celestial fragrances swirling and heavenly flowers drifting down. Instantly, the dragon king's senses cleared, and he lifted his head toward the Buddha, pleading for deliverance.

The assembled deities told him, "This is Shakyamuni Buddha from the Western Paradise. As the Dharma is about to spread eastward, your karmic retribution presents the perfect opportunity for liberation." Overcome with remorse, the dragon king leaped into the Buddha's radiant light and confessed his karmic tribulations. The Buddha praised him, saying, "Excellent! In the past, you served your parents with filial piety and your country with loyalty, performing many deeds to benefit beings. Your compassionate heart sought to protect people—yet unresolved karma led you to clash with enemies, and attachment to self-other distinctions caused these harmful acts."

This scripture recounts how Emperor Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) transformed his karmic retribution of wrath through self-cultivation and benevolent governance.

The first half describes the practitioner's spiritual attainment: recognizing past transgressions of harming others through anger, the cultivator achieves the state of "no-self and no-other" through repentance and practice. At this stage, one receives the wisdom blessings of the Dharma, attaining spiritual accomplishments like eloquence and supernatural abilities that delight even the Eight Classes of Divine Protectors from Buddhist tradition.

The latter portion details his governance after reincarnating as Zhang Xun: As magistrate of Qinghe County, he treated subordinates and commoners with benevolence. Toward officials: he corrected the erring, encouraged the negligent, instructed the rash, and prosecuted the corrupt. Toward citizens: he mediated property disputes through moral principles and resolved ritual conflicts with compassionate reasoning. Toward offenders: thieves made restitution, assailants offered apologies, murderers faced lawful punishment—yet those with virtuous intentions received clemency.

He willingly bore criticism for excessive leniency rather than wrong the people. After five years of such governance, the region enjoyed seasonal harmony—locust plagues ceased, banditry vanished, and even malcontents reformed. The people praised him in song as "strict yet merciful," upholding law with compassionate wisdom.

Through these concrete examples, the scripture demonstrates the Daoist cultivation principle of "returning virtue for resentment" and the governing philosophy of "benevolent rule," emphasizing how inner refinement manifests as harmonious worldly administration.

The two passages from The Transformation Book of the Divine Lord of Zitong recount the earthly experiences and duties of Lord Zhang (the Divine Lord of Zitong).

Chapter 68, "Transformation of the Hidden and Manifest," describes how Lord Zhang, due to his family's generations of virtuous deeds, was reborn as a human during the Yonghe era of Emperor Shun of Han. Though he never held high office in his lifetime, Heaven bestowed upon him a special mission—to handle human affairs by day and manage the affairs of the underworld by night. He could discern injustices, hidden virtues, and secret schemes among the living, and was equally knowledgeable about the mischief of ghosts and spirits. For thirty-six years (three cycles of twelve years), he toiled day and night, aiding both the living in the yang world and the souls in the yin realm.

The text emphasizes Lord Zhang's devotion to filial piety (exemplified by his reverence for the strong and filial), his gentle yet principled nature (soft yet disciplined), and his harmonious, non-contentious interactions with others (peaceful without strife). During the final years of the Yuanhe era under Emperor Zhang of Han, he served as a provincial governor but resigned rather than compromise his integrity to please the powerful.

Chapter 69, "Transformation of Strategic Planning," portrays Lord Zhang as both a scholar and a warrior (his mind embraced both martial and literary arts), with a keen intellect capable of discerning the myriad phenomena of the world (a single inch of his heart divided all things). He employed ingenious strategies (deploying unorthodox tactics to execute his plans) and exhausted his efforts on the battlefield to assist the emperor (toiling in the fields of war to aid imperial merit). Though official histories record little of him (the scribes' brief accounts remain incomplete), his extraordinary talent for strategy and command was undeniable (why should his unparalleled planning go unheard in the world?).

These passages illustrate, through concrete examples, the Divine Lord of Zitong's conduct and achievements during his time as a deity in human form, particularly highlighting his unique role in bridging the yin and yang realms, rewarding good, and punishing evil. The term "hidden and manifest" (幽明) refers to the two realms of yin and yang, "three cycles" (三纪) denotes thirty-six years, and "strategic planning" (筹帷) signifies his military acumen in command and strategy.

This section of the Transformation Chronicles of Emperor Zitong (a revered Daoist deity) recounts his journey through reincarnation, karmic repayment, and eventual restoration to divine status.

In the 70th transformation titled "Transformation as Ruyi," it describes how the Emperor gradually regained his divine office through virtuous deeds across multiple lifetimes. However, due to unresolved karmic debts from his past life in Qiongchi (present-day Qionglai, Sichuan), he reincarnated as an ambitious youth in Heshuo (north of the Yellow River). In this incarnation, he became a staff officer under General Deng Ai during the campaign against Shu, serving as marching secretary and advising Deng on unconventional tactics to minimize casualties. When encountering Zhuge Zhan (son of Zhuge Liang) in Shu territory, the Emperor attempted to persuade him to surrender without success. During battle, he was wounded by a stray arrow—precisely the karmic retribution for his Qiongchi debts. After fulfilling these karmic ties, he was summoned to the Jade Capital (the highest Daoist heaven) where his karmic obstructions were purified. The Celestial Emperor bestowed upon him the "Ruyi Precious Staff," a divine artifact capable of commanding underworld troops and resolving enmities.

The 71st transformation "Dingwei Transformation" depicts the Emperor traveling with his staff to Golden Horse Mountain (in present-day Yunnan), a serene landscape west of Yuechang Kingdom and south of Yuexi Commandery. In the eighth year of Emperor Wu of Jin's Tai Kang era (Dingwei year, 287 CE), he reincarnated as the son of an elderly couple named Zhang—parents who had appeared across multiple incarnations. The poetic line "Virtue of Fire shall assist the king for ten thousand reigns" hints this would be a rebirth destined to support imperial enterprise across generations.

Through Emperor Zitong's reincarnation narratives, this scripture elucidates the Daoist doctrine of "karmic retribution and inherited burdens" (因果承负)—even deities must repay karmic debts, and only through accumulating merit and virtue can divine status be regained. The "Ruyi Precious Staff" mentioned represents an important Daoist ritual implement symbolizing divine power and vows, while concepts like "Jade Capital" and "Three Realms" reflect Daoist cosmology of celestial realms.

On the night of the third day of the second month, during the Zi hour (11pm-1am), the heavenly stems and branches marked the transition into the Xinhai day. The Celestial Emperor appointed me as the guardian deity (Yuanchen, the protector of one's birth year) for the mortal officials of the Dingwei year.

The 72nd Transformation: Divine Manifestation at the Waterway

My lingering habit of dreaming of transforming into a dragon and proclaiming myself emperor remained unshaken. I laughed at the worldly practice of offering wine and meat in improper sacrifices, for I had already received my divine commission in the watery regions. Guarding the people through storms, witnessing auspicious signs amidst mulberry and hemp fields, I now oversee all Yin-Yang affairs of Shu, having traveled far from Qiqu Mountain to assume this post.

Though settled with family, I maintained filial piety, amused by villagers praying to clay idols for rain—for I had foreseen the drought through dreams. One day by the water, I inscribed my divine commission and sent it to the Sea God. Soon, a messenger revealed: I was originally a man of the Zhou dynasty, and this is my 73rd incarnation. Known as the "Judicial Officer of Fortune," I rode a white donkey into the storm, vanishing into an underground palace where my parents and family awaited. That night, rain blessed all of Shu, and shortly after, I was commanded to govern both Yin and Yang realms of the region.

The 73rd Transformation: Keeper of the Laurel Records

Confucian merits and fame are ordained by the celestial bureaucracy (Tiancao), their glory and disgrace predetermined. The sincere are shown exam questions in dreams; those with abundant hidden virtue (Yinde) grace the golden roster. Scholars from humble homes may ennoble their families; commoners can don gold and purple robes. A solemn warning to diligent students: literary talent and moral conduct are equally indispensable.

The Celestial Emperor, recognizing my mastery of classics across lifetimes, entrusted me with the Laurel Records (Guiji) of Tiancao. All matters—examinations, official promotions, even the appointment of chancellors—fall under my purview.

The 74th Transformation: Manifestation of Filial Virtue

Well-versed in statecraft and classical learning, I revived the ancient system of selecting officials by virtue. The imperial jade seal revealed Heaven’s mandate; like the sun’s renewed radiance, it illuminated imperial virtue. Foreseeing the Jin dynasty’s rise, I scoffed at the pretender Liu Cong’s frog-like enthronement. Riding a donkey to Xiliang, I spontaneously manifested six supernatural powers.

Once drawn to Buddhist seclusion, during the Jianxing era of Western Jin, I witnessed barbarians eyeing the Central Plains... (Note: The original text breaks here, describing how the Divine Lord of Zitong manifested to protect the nation.)

This scripture recounts how the Celestial Lord Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes and official success) manifested as the Confucian scholar Xie Ai to assist the Western Liang regime.

During an era of great turmoil, only a hero destined to govern the world could restore order. When Emperor Yuan of Jin crossed south to establish the Eastern Jin dynasty, auspicious signs appeared in the Jiangnan region—white qilin (unicorns), imperial jade seals, and double solar halos over Lin'an (modern Hangzhou)—all portents of dynastic revival. The Celestial Lord Zitong then took human form as a scholar, riding a white donkey to the Hexi region, where he presented himself to the Western Liang ruler Zhang Gui as a candidate for the "Filial and Incorrupt" civil service selection.

By the end of the Jianxing era (around 315 CE), the lord's incarnation, Xie Ai, was appointed as a chief clerk. After Zhang Gui's death, his son Zhang Chonghua succeeded to the throne, while the Later Zhao general Ma Qiu repeatedly invaded Liangzhou. The court official Zhang Dan advised Zhang Chonghua: "Current military appointments favor seniority, yet ancient commanders like Han Xin and Rang Ju (renowned Warring States strategists) rose by merit alone. Though young, Xie Ai excels in both civil and martial arts—he should be entrusted with command."

Summoned for counsel, Xie Ai cited precedents: Geng Yan (an Eastern Han general) who vowed "not to leave enemies for the sovereign" and Huang Quan (a Shu Han general of the Three Kingdoms) who pledged to "lead ten thousand against the foe." He requested a few thousand elite troops to crush the invaders for his lord. Delighted, Zhang Chonghua assigned him 30,000 infantry and cavalry to confront Ma Qiu.

At the battlefield, Xie Ai deliberately rode a light carriage wearing a plain white cap, advancing to drumbeats. Enraged, Ma Qiu fumed: "Xie Ai is just a young scholar—such attire insults me!" He ordered his elite black-lance troops to attack. This episode reveals how the Celestial Lord Zitong, in mortal guise, employed wisdom to outmatch a formidable adversary.

This passage tells the story of the Zitong Emperor Lord, a Daoist deity who presides over literary fortune, taking human form. At a time of chaos across the land, a general named Ai led troops into battle. The enemy believed an ambush was waiting and dared not advance. Ai seized the opportunity to counterattack and won a great victory, while the enemy commander Qiu fled under cover of night. The northern ruler Shi Long exclaimed, “I once swept across the Nine Provinces with only a supporting force. Now, with the strength of the Nine Provinces at my command, I am trapped in the land of Chonghua. Their side must have a man of great ability.”

Later, while the Zitong Emperor Lord was living among mortals, he became friends with Yao Chang, who would go on to found the Later Qin dynasty. When the Emperor Lord received Yao Chang at Feng Mountain, he lent him an iron ruyi, a Daoist ritual implement, and prayed: “Wield it, and it will summon troops.” Yao Chang was skeptical, but when the Emperor Lord waved it, tens of thousands of soldiers appeared in formation on the hillside. The place later became known as the “Training Ground.” Yao Chang did indeed later become emperor and establish the Later Qin.

The passage concludes by telling how the Emperor Lord’s father, the Lord of Qinghe, a Daoist divine figure, saw the Jin imperial house—descendants of the Yellow Emperor—falling into decline. He deliberately took birth in the Xie family, that is, the family of Xie An, a renowned minister of the Eastern Jin, and during the Jianxing era descended to the human realm with his two sons to help restore the Jin dynasty. The poem mocks Fu Jian of the Former Qin for his ambition and praises the worthy Eastern Jin minister Xie An for defeating a much larger force at the Battle of Fei River. It suggests that all of this had been ordained by Heaven.

(Note: “Chonghua” refers to Emperor Shun and serves as a metaphor for a land ruled by a worthy sovereign. The “plants and trees of Mount Bagong” alludes to the Battle of Fei River, when the Former Qin army mistook the vegetation on Mount Bagong for Jin troops, conveying the panic of a defeated army.)

This passage recounts a story of the Divine Lord Zitong (the Daoist venerated Wenchang Emperor) manifesting to punish a corrupt official, divided into historical context and miraculous warning sections.

The first part illustrates the virtue of loyal ministers through the deeds of Eastern Jin dynasty statesman Xie An (referred to as "my father" in the text). When Former Qin's Fu Jian invaded with 970,000 troops, Xie An recommended his nephew Xie Xuan (called "Hongshi" in the text) to lead the defense. During the Battle of Feishui, Xie Xuan achieved victory against overwhelming odds, yet Xie An remained composed upon receiving the news, demonstrating extraordinary poise.

The latter section describes how the Divine Lord Zitong manifested in Shu region to punish corrupt official Wang Zai. As salt tax supervisor, Wang forced citizens to pay double levies and decreed property confiscation for future unpaid quotas. After secret investigation, the deity caused Wang to manifest an ox tail in his dreams - a Daoist "transformation into livestock" retribution sign (where evildoers are reborn as animals). Simultaneously, a maidservant dreamed of Wang growing an ox tail, confirming his corruption would face celestial punishment.

The conclusion offers a gatha summary: misfortune and blessing both stem from human actions, with karmic retribution rooted in prior causes. Officials who exploit the people's wealth ultimately face divine punishment like Wang's ox tail or Ma Su's transformation into a swine (referencing historical parallels). Every thought is observed by deities, serving as warning for all.

(Note: "Monopoly goods" refers to state-controlled trade, "nightmare" indicates demonic dreams, and "revival" means awakening - specialized terms preserved for textual authenticity.)

The Transformation Book of the Imperial Lord Zitong records two cautionary tales and a discourse on cultural transmission.

The first story recounts the misdeeds of Ma E, a corrupt official in Shu who imposed excessive taxes without regard for the people's suffering, even boasting of his harsh methods. The suffering populace nicknamed him "Horse Scourge." When admonished with classical allusions, he responded with arrogance. Later, he died suddenly of a violent illness, and during his burial, strange omens appeared: his family heard noises from the coffin, and upon opening it, they found his corpse transformed into a pig. As the funeral procession set out, clear skies abruptly gave way to torrential rain, making the journey impossible, and the burial site was flooded. This tale serves as a warning that corrupt officials will inevitably face divine retribution.

Chapter 78 emphasizes the importance of cultural continuity. It describes scholars in Tongchuan (modern-day Shaanxi) who diligently studied the Book of Changes and Daoist teachings, yet Confucian traditions had declined. Heaven thus sent scholars like Wang Tong (styled Zhongyan) to revive ritual music and restore the teachings of Confucius. The text laments that true Confucian spirit could preserve the simple virtues of ancient sage-kings and resist vulgar customs. Scholars like Dong Chang had nearly attained the wisdom of Yan Hui (Confucius’ most virtuous disciple), penetrating the essence of Confucian thought.

Chapter 79 illustrates the value of heeding remonstrance through the story of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang. During the An Lushan Rebellion, the emperor fled to Jiange in Shu—a crisis that could have been averted had he listened to Zhang Jiuling’s loyal counsel. Later, a Confucian scholar’s petition facilitated his return to Chang’an. When welcoming the emperor at Wanli Bridge, people realized that the Imperial Lord Zitong (Wenchang Dijun) had long been awaiting him in Zixiao Palace, offering unseen protection. This chapter underscores how scholar-officials’ admonitions and divine guardianship are vital to governance.

The text also mentions that the author, by the Mandate of the Celestial Emperor, descended to the Wang family in Tongchuan. Foreseeing the fall of the Sui dynasty, he retreated to Hefen (modern Shanxi), where he spent nine years studying the rites and music of the Zhou and Confucian traditions, establishing norms to educate the people. Regrettably, these principles of statecraft were not adopted during Emperor Taizong’s reign and were instead passed only to disciples like Dong Chang—a profound lament.

This scripture recounts the story of Emperor Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) incarnating in the human realm. Initially weary of the cycle of life and death, he was commanded by the Celestial Emperor to assist the Tang imperial family, being reborn as Zhang Jiuling of the Qinghe Zhang clan. During Emperor Xuanzong's reign, Zhang Jiuling was demoted due to slander from Li Linfu, but when the An Lushan Rebellion erupted and Xuanzong fled to Shu territory, the emperor regretted ignoring his loyal counsel.

Later, Emperor Zitong appeared as a Confucian scholar to meet Xuanzong at Wanli Bridge, hinting at the emperor's impending celestial ascension. After Emperor Suzong recaptured Chang'an, Zhang Jiuling was posthumously honored as Left Chancellor while secretly protecting the emperor. In his later years, he practiced bigu (a Daoist cultivation technique of abstaining from grains) and often played his purple jade flute to summon cranes. Eventually, Emperor Xuanzong passed away peacefully after ritual purification, returning to the celestial realm as the deity Yuanzai Kongsheng.

The eightieth transformation, titled "The Transformation of Clear Warning," illustrates karmic retribution through Li Deng's story. After passing provincial examinations at eighteen, Li Deng failed the imperial exams four consecutive times, remaining unsuccessful by age fifty. When he sought help from Master Ye Jing, the Daoist revealed that a certain Beiguo Sheng (Emperor Zitong) in Zitong presided over the Wenchang (literary merit) affairs, indicating his scholarly failures stemmed from past-life karma. Through Li Deng's experience, this passage emphasizes how accumulating virtue through good deeds affects scholarly and official success, embodying the Daoist doctrine of "retribution for good and evil."

The Daoist scripture Text of the Transformations of Lord Zitong records this cautionary tale:

The deity overseeing imperial examinations (the Official of Tribute and Rank) perceives each person's destiny. Scholar Li Deng originally possessed an exceptional fate: bestowed a jade seal at birth, destined to pass provincial exams at eighteen, achieve the top imperial examination rank at nineteen, and rise to Right Chancellor by thirty-three. Yet through four wicked acts, his fortune was successively diminished:

First, after initial success, he attempted to violate his neighbor's daughter Zhang Yanniang. Though unsuccessful, his actions caused her father Zhang Cheng to be wrongly imprisoned. This delayed his honors by ten years, demoting him to second-rank graduate. At twenty-eight, after passing again, he seized elder brother Li Feng's property, leading to litigation that cost another decade of blessings, reducing him to third-rank. At thirty-eight, while lodging in Chang'an, he assaulted virtuous wife Zheng Shi, causing her husband's wrongful accusation—another ten-year penalty downgraded him to fourth-rank. Finally at forty-eight, he abducted neighbor Wang Ji's daughter Qingniang. Unrepentant, he was stripped of all scholarly honors and barred from future examinations.

When a Daoist priest revealed these karmic consequences, Li Deng died of shame that very night. This parable warns scholars to uphold virtue steadfastly.

Another account describes the Huang Chao rebellion during the late Tang dynasty: Amid the chaos of the Qianfu era, after Shang Junzhang's execution, Shang Rang and others made Huang Chao their leader. When rebels seized Luoyang and Tong Pass, forcing Emperor Xizong to flee to Sichuan, Lord Zitong manifested as a Confucian scholar. At night, he offered his mount to the panicked emperor, walking barefoot beside the horse. Suddenly, colored clouds enveloped them, lifting the emperor skyward to safety—an intervention that ultimately preserved the Tang dynasty's mandate.

Both narratives embody the core Daoist tenet of "retribution for good and evil." Through historical events and mortal stories, they illustrate how deities both monitor human conduct and intervene to protect righteousness at critical junctures.

This passage recounts the story of how the Imperial Lord of Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) manifested through his incarnation as Zhang Xiaoyou. One day, while observing the mortal realm through the clouds, the deity witnessed the battle between the Fengxiang army and Huang Chao's forces at Longhu Slope—the scene resembling ants in conflict. To his astonishment, he realized his guide beside him was none other than the deceased scholar Zhang Xiaoyou from Beiguo. Moved by this encounter, the deity reflected that had it not been for meeting Zhang, he might have forgotten his own past incarnation in the human world.

As they traveled along the ancient road of Jiannan, the weary deity rested his head on Zhang Xiaoyou's lap. The rustling wind in the forest startled him, making him momentarily fear an enemy ambush, only to realize it was a false alarm. Upon reaching Jubaijin, the deity proposed betrothing the wise Princess Xingtang to Zhang. Though Zhang initially declined, he was eventually enfeoffed as the King of Jishun and gifted the deity’s own sword. Later, when Huang Chao was defeated by Song Wentong and others, the princess tragically passed away while accompanying the deity back to the celestial palace. Zhang Xiaoyou then dispatched yin soldiers (spirit troops) to retrieve her soul and enshrine it at Qiqu Mountain.

The 82nd transformation, titled "Deliverance from Delusion," records an incident during the Five Dynasties period involving the outspoken scholar Sun Qiao, who disdained belief in spirits. When he passed by the Zitong temple and spoke disrespectfully, a violent storm trapped him in the mountains. Mocking the temple deity as merely "Zhang Xiaoyou of Beiguo," he suddenly saw a guiding flame illuminate his path. Still skeptical, Sun demanded the rain cease—whereupon Zhang Xiaoyou appeared, exposing Sun’s habitual irreverence toward the temple. This encounter ultimately convinced Sun, who later wrote essays extolling the deity’s awe-inspiring virtue (De).

The term "yin soldiers" refers to the underworld troops commanded by Daoist deities, while "Qiqu" denotes Qiqu Mountain in Zitong County, Sichuan—the sacred center of the Imperial Lord of Zitong’s worship. Through tales of divine manifestations and the chastening of arrogant scholars, the story illustrates the Daoist belief in "divine surveillance over the mortal realm."

These two passages from the Transformation Records of Emperor Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortune) document his miraculous interventions to aid humanity.

The 83rd transformation recounts the deity's attainment of spiritual realization. Having seen through worldly illusions with purified innate nature, he achieved the true Dao (the Way) through cultivation. At that time, Sichuan's people suffered from floods and plagues—raging rivers submerged cities, sweeping away multitudes while malignant sores and persistent diseases spread. Manifesting as a boatman, the deity rescued thousands from drowning, then appeared as a divine physician to personally treat the afflicted, saving countless lives. Later, the Ancient Buddha of Vulture Peak (a Buddhist saint) recorded his virtuous deeds (De) and conferred upon him a prophecy (a Buddhist ceremony foretelling Buddhahood), declaring he would attain Buddhahood in this very life with the title "Bodhisattva King of Serene Wisdom in the Imperturbable Realm of Bliss," ultimately realizing the fruition of "Shakyamuni Brahma-Steadfast Tathagata."

The 84th transformation describes the deity assisting the founding of the Song dynasty. During widespread chaos, while cultivating in the Imperturbable Pure Land, he received the Jade Emperor's decree noting the celestial phenomenon "Five Planets Converging in Kuixin" (an omen signaling new dynastic rise). He dispatched emanations to fulfill this destiny: his second emanation Zhang Shouzhen aided Emperor Taizu at Zhongnan Mountain with ten statecraft strategies to establish the Song; another emanation Kou Pingzhong (the historical statesman Kou Zhun) assisted Emperor Zhenzong during the Chanyuan Campaign, securing two centuries of Song peace. These events are reliably documented in official histories.

The text employs Buddhist terms: "samadhi" denotes meditative absorption; "vyakarana" refers to a Buddha's prophecy of future enlightenment; while "Five Planets Converging in Kuixin" reflects ancient Chinese astrology heralding sage-emperors.

85th Transformation: Manifestation of Loyalty

When the sagely Son of Heaven ascended the throne by the Mandate of Heaven, how could treacherous factions shake the governance of Shu? Yet rebels like Wang Jun and Li Shun dared to incite chaos in the prefectures, colluding with insurgents to defile the land. Before the imperial army even engaged in formal battle, the rebellion was swiftly quelled—all due to the divine intervention of the deity of Jianmen Pass. After pacifying the revolt, the court bestowed upon me the honorable title "Yingxian" (Heroic Manifestation).

During the peaceful Chunhua era, I foresaw the rebellion of Wang Jun and Li Shun. The court dispatched Wang Jien and Lei Youzhong to lead the suppression campaign, and they sought my divine assistance. In response, I sent two divine generals, Cui Xuan and Li Mao, to command spectral troops in aiding Lei Youzhong. At the Battle of Lizhou, the rebels held firm in their stronghold when suddenly, a soldier from our ranks shouted: "The Emperor of Zitong has dispatched two generals with legions of spectral troops under Heaven’s decree to annihilate the rebels! Surrender now!" When the rebels shot arrows at him, the projectiles could not harm him. The soldier calmly prophesied the rebels’ downfall, which later came to pass.

The Heavenly Emperor, pleased with my merit in quelling the rebellion without excessive bloodshed, appointed me to oversee the cycle of rebirth and relieve suffering. He established a Commander-in-Chief’s Office under my authority, granting me command over all spectral troops across the Three Realms and Six Heavens.

86th Transformation: Governance of Sagely Virtue

The civilizing influence of this peaceful age rivals that of Yao and Shun, while the art of governance remains as pure as the primordial beginnings of Heaven and Earth. Virtuous rule pacifies the four directions, and rites bring stability to the people’s lives. Just as lifting a collar straightens the entire fur garment, only when confronting tangled roots does the greatness of a true Confucian scholar shine forth.

From Emperor Taizu to Emperor Renzong, four generations of Northern Song rulers established this golden age. By the Jade Emperor’s decree, I sent my eldest son, Ranming, to be reborn as Sima Guang. In the Historiography Institute, he devoted himself to compiling the Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government, offering history as a mirror for future generations. Later, he assisted Empress Xuanren Sheng Lie in guiding the young emperor. Though governance was conducted behind a screen, the empire flourished under orderly administration. Policies were implemented with perfect clarity, and people praised how his virtue moved Heaven and the gods. Sima Guang’s accumulated merits in benevolence nearly equaled those of sage-ministers like the Duke of Zhou and Duke of Shao.

This passage recounts the divine intervention of Emperor Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes) in assisting the imperial court to quell rebellion. When the northwestern frontier was invaded by nomadic tribes, regions like Longxi and Qinliang were nearly lost. Emperor Gaozong, deeply troubled, sought solutions. The five sons of Emperor Zitong—eldest son Yuan Shi (courtesy name Jing), second son Mao Yang (courtesy name Zhi), along with Dou, Guan, and Zhi—joined by deities like Cui Xuan and Li Mao, led celestial troops under the command of the Heavenly Emperor to aid the battle. Miraculous signs appeared on the battlefield: wooden warhorses sweated, and the enemy Jurchen forces retreated in terror, saving Longxi from disaster.

The text then describes the devastation during the fall of the Northern Song Dynasty: the Jurchen breached Yan Mountain, bandits ran rampant, and cosmic order collapsed. Emperors Huizong and Qinzong were captured and taken north, while refugees starved, even resorting to cannibalism. By this time, Emperor Zitong had reincarnated into the Qinghe Zhang family. During the Jingkang Catastrophe (1127, when the Jin army sacked Bianjing), moved by imperial grace, he manifested as the famed general Zhang Jun (a Southern Song anti-Jin hero) in the Pingjiang (modern Suzhou) region, reorganizing military governance and preserving half of the Southern Song territory. Remarkably, Zhang Jun’s corpse remained incorrupt in its coffin, revealing his extraordinary origins.

References like "vermilion banners blazing with fire" and "securing both Wu and Shu" symbolize celestial omens through which Emperor Zitong stabilized the strategic regions of Wu (Jiangsu-Zhejiang) and Shu (Sichuan), prolonging the Song Dynasty’s fate.

This passage records the divine miracles and merits of Emperor Zitong (an incarnation of the Daoist deity Wenchang Dijun). It recounts miraculous events following the death of the renowned Southern Song statesman Zhang Jun during the Longxing era (1163-1164).

After Zhang Jun's burial in Hengyang, his son Zhang Shi sought to relocate the remains to Sichuan. When the coffin was opened, witnesses were astonished to find the deceased's countenance preserved with lifelike dignity, prompting local officials and commoners alike to bow in reverence. The text identifies this phenomenon as a manifestation of Emperor Zitong's divine power.

The passage then details the deity's dual responsibilities: during his mortal life he governed Sichuan as the emperor's representative, and after ascension he presides over the Wenchang Bureau in heaven, overseeing imperial examinations and worldly success. His achievements earned him the celestial title "Perfected Lord of Wenchang Who Governs Examinations and Tribute, Imperial Guardian of the People, Young Mentor, and Numinous Responsive Emperor" conferred by the Jade Emperor.

The text elaborates Emperor Zitong's virtues: illuminating the world like sun and moon, teaching agriculture to ensure prosperity, establishing rites and music to bring orderly governance, pacifying conflicts to harmonize Yin-Yang, and managing water and land to produce auspicious signs. Whether handling routine affairs or overcoming crises, he demonstrated perfect competence. From supervising grain transport to serving as chief minister, he maintained unwavering compassion, rescuing people from suffering.

Finally, the passage mentions the Jade Emperor's command to compile records of Emperor Zitong's ninety-odd incarnations and twelve thousand virtuous deeds. These weren't empty claims but tangible acts of aiding the distressed, punishing evil, and promoting good, earning universal reliance on his protection. Additionally, he propagated Daoist scriptures (with "Dragon Han" referring to Daoist canons) and led other sages in collective manifestations of salvation.

Through concrete examples, this text illustrates how Daoist deities practice the teaching "supreme goodness resembles water" through incarnate salvation, while simultaneously reflecting the Southern Song synthesis of Wenchang worship with Confucian governance ideals.

This passage describes the process by which the Daoist deity Zitong Dijun (the celestial patron of literary success) was conferred with higher divine responsibilities. The general meaning is as follows:

The celestial court decided to bestow upon Zitong Dijun the prestigious title of "Grand Preceptor of the Golden Portal and Vast Heaven" (Jinque Haotian Taishi), entrusting him with overseeing matters of fortune and misfortune across the Three Realms (heaven, earth, and the underworld). Zitong Dijun submitted three memorials declining the honor, humbly claiming his virtue (De) was insufficient for such weighty responsibilities. However, the celestial realm recognized his utmost sincerity, and he ultimately accepted the position while simultaneously manifesting multiple emanations to govern blessings and calamities throughout the four directions.

The reference to "the ninetieth transformation of True Origin" alludes to Zitong Dijun's ninetieth incarnation. This deity manifested through spirit-writing (a Daoist ritual practice where deities descend via phoenix mediums), reviving three important scriptures including the Dadong Jing (Great Cavern Scripture) during the Song dynasty. Historical figures who received transmission of these texts—such as He Da, Zhu Daoyuan, and Liu Ruozhuo—all achieved remarkable success in official careers or imperial examinations.

Notably, the text mentions that Su Shi (courtesy name Zizhan) received transmission from Huang Ruoshui and became a high-ranking minister, while Liu Haoran transmitted the teachings to Yu Yunwen (a famous Southern Song statesman), implying these historical luminaries' accomplishments were connected to Zitong Dijun's divine protection. The entire passage exemplifies the Daoist concept of "divine principles establishing teachings," emphasizing celestial beings' governance over human literary fortunes and worldly affairs.

This scripture recounts the miraculous manifestation of Emperor Zitong (a Daoist deity overseeing literary fortunes and imperial examinations) punishing unfilial individuals.

The text states that Emperor Zitong was entrusted with overseeing human fortunes and misfortunes, specifically examining good and evil deeds. During the Qiandao era (Southern Song dynasty), in Zhongjiang, Sichuan, there lived a man named Wang Qian. His parents had purchased fragrant wood coffins for their future use, but Wang secretly replaced them with cheaper fir wood and sold the originals, later substituting them with even cheaper mixed wood planks. When his mother passed away, he kept the good wood for himself, providing only a thin pine coffin for her. Upon discovering this, Emperor Zitong struck Wang dead with lightning, leaving his corpse upside-down in the earth. When Wang's son tried to retrieve the body, he was blasted five miles away by another thunderbolt. After this happened twice, the family had to drill holes in the coffin and insert bamboo poles to avoid further lightning strikes.

During the same period, Xu Qian, a county magistrate of Xindu, was sent on official business and lodged at a household in Qianwei County. The host had dreamed the previous night of a divine being foretelling the arrival of "Vice Minister Xu" (using the high-ranking title "Shilang" as a hint that Xu could have attained such office). This turned out to be an assisting deity sent by Emperor Zitong giving advance notice. Xu Qian indeed arrived and received generous hospitality, but later lost his life due to greed and abuse of power.

Through these contrasting cases, the scripture emphasizes the deities' surveillance of human morality, with particular attention to filial piety. Wang Qian suffered divine thunder punishment for his unfilial behavior, while Xu Qian, despite having auspicious omens, met his demise due to avarice—illustrating the Daoist doctrine of "retribution for good and evil." Terms like "talismanic medicine" and "healing merit officers" referenced in the text are Daoist ritual terminology, referring to healing through talismans and divine generals.

This records two karmic retribution tales. The first concerns an official named Xu who dreamed of being informed that due to accepting 500 taels of gold in bribes—resulting in seventy wrongful deaths—the celestial court had reduced his lifespan by thirty years and terminated his official career. Upon waking, he arrogantly dismissed the warning, yet later died abruptly at age thirty-four while traveling to his new post, leaving all who heard of it lamenting his fate.

The second story tells of Luo Gong, a scholar from Zitong County. While praying for career prospects at the temple of Emperor Wenchang (also known as the Zitong Sovereign), the deity appeared in a dream warning him that leaving his parents' remains unburied for years had angered the heavens, and he must return home immediately. Luo protested that his siblings shared responsibility, but the emperor explained that as an educated man who understood moral principles, he bore greater accountability. Awakening in alarm, Luo hastily prepared for his journey home—yet died before arriving.

Following this is Emperor Wenchang's admonition: The underworld's expanse is boundless, holding countless unburied remains since antiquity. Heaven's virtue (De) cherishes life, dispatching spirits specifically to oversee proper burials. King Wen of Zhou interred nameless bones, while Confucius taught reverence for the departed. Yet today many neglect even their own parents' remains, devoid of compassion. By the Jade Emperor's decree, the sovereign now inspects the mortal realm, having assisted in burying numerous exposed skeletons. This account dates to the first day of the lunar new year in 1195 (Shaoxi 6 of Southern Song), when the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing) convened celestial officials at the Jade Pure Sacred Realm to examine human merits and faults, with the Jade Emperor presiding over the Three Realms' assembled perfected beings to adjudicate these cases.

At that time, all the deities of heaven and earth came to pay homage to the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing, the highest deities in Daoism). The Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun, the supreme Daoist deity) commanded the True Lord of Storing Blessings and Determining Destiny, who serves as Attendant of the Golden Portal and Marshal of the Nine Heavens, to open the jasper treasure chest and retrieve the Jade Register recording merits and faults throughout the Three Realms, in order to examine the virtues and transgressions of all beings across the celestial, earthly, and watery domains.

This divine being had manifested since the primordial kalpa of Dragon Han (Longhan, the Daoist term for the beginning of creation), undergoing over three thousand reincarnations. By the yisi year of King Wu of Zhou's reign, he descended in accordance with the Fire Virtue (Huode) to be born into the Qinghe clan. Through ninety lifetimes of cultivating filial piety and loyalty, he accumulated immeasurable merit and was about to ascend to the position of Celestial Emperor. With the unanimous recommendation of all deities and veneration from the Three Realms, on the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, immortal officials including the Left Attendant of Jade Heaven and the Inner Court of Yaohua composed the Jade Register to formally confer upon him the imperial title "Supreme Great Heaven of Limitless Transformation."

Originally serving as Grand Preceptor of the Golden Portal of Haotian (a key celestial position), this deity was responsible for overseeing fortune and misfortune throughout the Three Realms. Endowed with the spiritual energy (Qi) of the Zhang and Yi constellations, he mastered profound Daoist methods and established a teaching system spanning all ages. All his incarnations embodied the Dao of loyalty and filial piety, while his salvific works for all beings stemmed from compassionate intent. Having perfected ninety lifetimes of cultivation and attained sublime merit through three thousand kalpas, he now formally received the divine title "True Sovereign of Long Life in the Southern Pole, Stabilizer of the Nine Heavens..." (title incomplete), with immortal officials like Ning Hong presenting the golden texts and jade registers for his investiture.

This divine being (Emperor Zitong) possesses numerous honorific titles: Primordial Guardian of Life, Sovereign of Supporting Teachings and Transforming Beings, Heavenly Emperor of Unwavering Joy in Nurturing All (Boluoni Mibujiao Leyu), and Celestial Worthy of Great Compassion in Delivering from Calamities and Granting Rebirth with Eternal Life. Originating from the most fundamental Dao of the cosmos, he existed before the formation of heaven and earth, born from the Primordial Qi (Xiantian Yiqi, the most primordial energy). His power permeates the Three Realms of heaven, earth, and humanity, capable of merging with the void, possessing ten divine abilities, and accomplishing countless virtuous deeds.

Transcending all form and appearance, he eradicates worldly afflictions, establishes the foundation of spiritual teachings, controls the Yan-Kang calamities (the great cosmic cataclysms in Daoism), and protects sentient beings from suffering. His exalted status governs the Nine Heavens and Three Realms, spreading teachings with boundless compassion while wielding the "Sacred Melody of Sandalwood Radiance" (Tanzhiyin) and the "Precious Treasure of Azure Simplicity" (Canghu Bao), his merits immeasurable.

On a certain celestial day, this deity received his official titles upon the Seven-Jeweled Jasper Terrace within the Golden Palace of Jade Radiance (Yuchen Jinqu, a heavenly abode). The Supreme Heavenly Emperor (Haotian Shangdi, the highest deity in Daoism) bestowed upon him feathered canopies and rainbow banners (Yubao Nijing), a jade chariot drawn by nine dragons (Jiulong Yunian), and a phoenix-adorned carriage (Jiufeng Qiongyu). He wears a twelve-beaded imperial crown (Shi'erliu Guanmian) and robes embroidered with celestial symbols—the sun, moon, mountains, and dragons—while holding a jade scepter (Yu Gui) and treading in vermilion shoes (Zhu Lü).

His celestial palaces reside in two locations: one in the Wenchang Palace within the Purple Tenuity Enclosure (Ziwei Yuan), situated among the heavenly realms of Chiming, Heyang, Xuming, and Tangyao; the other in the Scarlet Palace of Jade Firmament (Yuxiao Jiangong), above the Heaven of Unwavering Joy in Nurturing All (Boluoni Mibujiao Leyu Tian). These palaces gleam with golden splendor, bathed in radiant auspicious clouds, where divine winds hum spontaneously and violet mists perpetually swirl.

After receiving his investiture, the deity, filled with reverence, vowed with compassionate resolve: Witnessing mortal beings ignorant of cause and effect, unable to discern good from evil, and straying into misguided paths—especially amid the Yan-Kang apocalyptic calamities (Yankang Mojie)—where demons torment them, he resolved to integrate the Confucian moral teachings of benevolence and righteousness (as espoused by Confucius, Mencius, Yi Yin, and the Duke of Zhou) with Buddhist and Daoist cultivation methods. Through civil examination honors (Guiji), he established four disciplines and nine ranks, revealing fortunes and misfortunes via dreams and divination slips, while manifesting countless emanations to deliver beings. Henceforth, whether scholars, generals, physicians, or merchants, all human destinies—honor and disgrace alike—fell under his governance.

Transformation 93: Manifestation at Fulu

Mist rose gently over the rippling blue waters of the Lu River, yet people remained unaware when the karmic retribution for their killing karma (Buddhist term for the sin of taking life) would arrive. The monks in the mountain temple slew others in rage, yet the mountain deities delayed the reckoning. Had they maintained sincere and virtuous hearts and cultivated the samadhi (meditative absorption) of Buddhist practice, they would never have formed such deep enmity with Li Wan'er.

Zhang Xin was later reborn as Wang Ji—proof that the retribution for past grievances never misses its appointed time. During the Shaoxi era of the Southern Song, Zhang Xiaofang, the military commander of Luzhou, was murdered by soldiers led by Zhang Xin, sparking a rebellion. Later, Zhang Xin was slain by his comrade Zhang Chang, restoring peace to Luzhou. This was, in fact, the karmic consequence sown during the Shaosheng era of the Northern Song by a monk from Zigui County, whose secular surname was Liao and whose dharma name was Huijue.

This monk had amassed great wealth in his mountain temple, collecting funds to hold grand Water-Land Dharma Assemblies (large-scale rituals to liberate the dead). When the bandit Li Wan'er and his gang attempted to rob the temple, they did not realize the monk had set traps around the walls, causing most of the bandits to fall in. Shockingly, the monk and his disciples then flayed Li Wan'er and his men alive and consumed their flesh.

Later, when Li Wan'er sought vengeance, the mountain god declared: "Your time for revenge has not yet come. This monk’s merit of benefiting the people is not yet exhausted—you must wait until he is reborn once more. However, the one you previously killed, Wang Ji, will surely return to repay you." Indeed, the monk Huijue was reborn as Zhang Xiaofang of Qinghe, Li Wan'er as Zhang Xin, and Wang Ji as Zhang Chang. The workings of karmic retribution were unmistakable, and in the end, I, along with the heroic and righteous deities (Daoist guardian spirits), quelled the chaos in Luzhou.

Transformation 94: Manifestation of Illumination

From the dawn of the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), the divine essence of Emperor Fuxi manifested according to opportunity amid clouds and waters. Ninety-four transformations reveal my manifestations, while over three thousand virtuous deeds flicker between visibility and obscurity. Twin Peaks Mountain was where I first established my sacred site, and Seven Peaks Mountain marked the direction of my travels. For now, I borrow the divine luan bird (a Daoist messenger phoenix) to elucidate these profound truths, composing texts primarily to admonish the world.

By the decree of Heaven, I now reside in the Golden Palace (celestial court), wandering freely in the Violet Void. Yet during my divine inspections, I found worldly customs increasingly corrupt—fraught with theft, superficiality, baseness, and deceit. Moreover, the great kalpic catastrophe approaches, difficult to avert. Thus, I manifest through the luan bird, hoping to slightly purify the tainted currents and delay the impending calamity.

In places like Longhui in Changzhou, Wansong in Puzhou, Baizhang in Yazhou, and Pengxi in Suining, I have dispatched celestial officials to establish sacred sites of manifestation. In Pengxi, I expounded upon the Jade Scripture (a Daoist classic); at Wansong Academy, I bestowed honors and titles; and in Baling... (the original text is incomplete, describing how the Divine Lord of Zitong manifested to teach in various regions).

The Transformation Book of the Divine Lord of Zitong recounts the miraculous manifestations of Wenchang Dijun (the Daoist deity overseeing literary fortune) across different historical periods to deliver humanity from calamities.

The 95th transformation, titled "Deliverance from Chaos," records: During the turbulent era when five kalpas (cosmic cycles) neared their end, disasters would emerge every mao year (in the traditional sexagenary calendar). In the dingmao year of the Kaixi era (under Emperor Ningzong of Southern Song), rebellion erupted in Shu (Sichuan). Unable to bear the people's suffering, Wenchang Dijun petitioned the celestial court and dispatched the mountain deity of Xiaoran to incarnate as An Bing (a renowned Southern Song official), joining forces with Chongying Dijun to quell the uprising. Through a spirit-writing séance (a Daoist practice known as luantai), the deity revealed the characters "An Bing" to guide the world, enabling figures like Yang and Li to suppress the revolt without harming civilians.

By the xinmao year of the Shaoding era, Shu faced another catastrophe—this time wrought by moral decay. Despite repeated appeals to heaven, Wenchang Dijun received no approval until finally sending the local earth god of Fenghuang to incarnate as Yu Jie (a celebrated general who resisted the Mongols). Stationed at the western frontier, Yu temporarily relieved Shu's plight. Yet by the yimao year, societal collapse became irreversible; even the thunder god (Lei Zhu) could no longer reverse the decline, culminating in Shu's "Three Tides" calamity.

The 96th transformation, "Pacification of the South," employs symbolic imagery: During the chaotic cycle of the sexagenary calendar (liuding wuwei), prolonged turmoil plagued the southern lands (referred to poetically as "the well-constellation and Canxu"). The thunder god's ritual implement (Lei Zhu) had failed for over twelve years, and even the divine mountain formed by the giant turtle (Ao Shan) split apart—a metaphor for the nation's crumbling fate and the deities' waning power to intervene.

This passage records the miraculous manifestations of Lord Zitong (the Daoist deity overseeing literary fortune) as he brought spiritual transformation to the Shu region. During a turbulent period of warfare when calamities befell all Shu's commanderies, the deity—acting on the Jade Emperor's decree—temporarily resided on Mount Ao (a Daoist sacred mountain) while dispatching the Six Ding (Daoist guardian generals) to protect the people.

After consulting with fellow deities Chongying and Zhaohui, Lord Zitong decided to relocate his administrative seat to Luzhou to preserve Shu's foundational energy. The text's reference to "the combined power of three deities" denotes these three divinities working in unison to safeguard the populace. Later, the deity moved again to Yunlong Mountain's Mowei Cave in Qian territory—revered as the "Abode of Peaceful Kinship"—where divine presence became anchored.

The deity deployed numerous celestial officials to manifest protective miracles across the land: assisting Zhao Dingying in establishing merit, empowering Xia Gui to materialize blessings, and covertly aiding in battles at Kaizhou and Etan. He further convened literati-immortals like Cao Guangyan, Li Bai, Su Dongpo, and Huang Tingjian at the Golden Lotus Stone of Mowei's sacred grounds to compose texts. Brewing tea with melted snow, they collectively authored seventeen scriptures (Jing) to perpetuate China's civilizational essence, promote ethical principles, revitalize Confucian literary traditions, and transmit heaven's "Seventeen Lights"—the celestial endowment of virtuous radiance—ensuring eternal transmission of righteous teachings.

Toponyms like "True Abode of Golden Lotus" and "Qu River" denote Daoist holy sites, while "Six Ding" refers to guardian generals. The "Seventeen Lights" represent heaven-bestowed luminous virtues. These scriptures were revealed through "phoenix-flight revelations"—the celestial method of conveying truth via divine luan birds.