《中和集》

This passage originates from The Collection of Central Harmony (Zhonghe Ji) by the Yuan dynasty Daoist Li Daochun (Daoist name Qing'an Yingchanzi), compiled by his disciple Cai Zhiyi (Daoist name Sun'an Baochanzhi). It elucidates the shared cultivation core of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism—the practice of "stillness and stability (jingding)."

Buddhism speaks of "perfect enlightenment (yuanjue)," Daoism discusses the "Golden Elixir (jindan)" (the supreme state of Neidan practice), and Confucianism refers to the "Supreme Ultimate (taiji)"—all pointing to the ultimate truth beyond form. The phrase "the Wuji gives rise to Taiji" describes the primordial state that cannot be confined by concepts yet encompasses all existence. The Buddhist expression "unmoving suchness, ever-present awareness," the Book of Changes statement "tranquil and unmoving, yet responsive to all stimuli," and the alchemical texts' description of "the true mechanism of Wuji manifesting after body and mind become still" all capture the profound nature of Taiji.

The three traditions unanimously emphasize "stillness and stability" as the key to cultivation. As Zhou Dunyi advocated in "focusing on stillness (zhujing)," when the human mind abides in undisturbed stillness, the heavenly principle (cosmic law) naturally manifests—this is the marvelous function of Taiji. When external influences create attachments, it represents the transformation of Taiji's state. By carefully preserving the original mind during stillness, one maintains the clarity of heavenly principle and unimpaired spiritual awareness. When encountering changing circumstances, one naturally responds with discernment. At the pinnacle of stillness practice, without deliberate seeking, one spontaneously realizes the reappearance of "Wuji's truth" and the manifestation of "Taiji's wonder"—where the principles of heaven, earth, and all things are fully present within oneself.

The Book of Rites states: The balanced state before joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure manifest is called "centrality (zhong)"; their expression in proper measure is called "harmony (he)." The pre-manifest "zhong" refers to maintaining careful vigilance over the original mind in stillness—the root of all under heaven. The manifested "he" means acting with proper measure—the universal standard. Achieving true "central harmony" in body and mind renders the fundamental mind-substance luminous and unimpaired: abiding in awareness during stillness, naturally centered in action, capable of responding to infinite changes. Laozi's saying "When humans can constantly abide in purity and stillness, heaven and earth fully return" and Zisi's statement "Attaining central harmony brings celestial order and universal transformation" express the same principle. "Zhong" and "he" constitute the mysterious function of resonant responsiveness.

Through diagrams like the Taiji Chart and Central Harmony Chart, this passage synthesizes Confucian "central harmony," Daoist "purity and stillness," and Buddhist "perfect enlightenment," emphasizing the return to original mind through stillness practice to attain the cultivation state of perfect adaptability in both movement and stillness.

This passage elucidates the concept of "Central Harmony" (Zhonghe) and the essential methods of mind-nature cultivation in Daoist practice.

The term "Central Harmony" serves as the author's name for his dwelling, symbolizing the state of Yin-Yang equilibrium and dynamic stillness. The text presents the cultivation method of "yielding compliance" (weishun), which involves four forms of surrender to transcend worldly attachments: maintaining bodily stillness, achieving mental clarity and penetration, embracing worldly affairs with undifferentiated acceptance, and handling matters in accordance with natural patterns. Simultaneously, one must cultivate fourfold compliance: yielding to celestial mandate, celestial Dao, celestial timing, and celestial principle. Through this approach, one can properly respond to human sentiments, external phenomena, temporal circumstances, and karmic opportunities, ultimately attaining liberation and spontaneous ease.

In the section on "Illuminating Delusions," a distinction is made between the "illuminating mind" (zhaoxin, awakened consciousness) and the "deluded mind" (wangxin, clinging consciousness). The illuminating mind represents the pure Dao-mind, while the deluded mind signifies the agitated human mind. Although the human mind contains the Dao-mind and vice versa, the crucial point lies in maintaining balance between movement and stillness. Only by upholding the Middle Way can one sustain constant awakening, prevent deluded thoughts from arising, transform danger into safety, and clarify the subtle until returning to the genuine nature free from delusion.

The concluding "Hymn of the Taiji Diagram" reveals that the central circle symbolizes the evolutionary process from Wuji (Non-Ultimate) to Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). The movement of Taiji generates Yang Qi, which upon reaching its extreme returns to stillness. This discloses the operating principles of the cosmos and represents the natural Dao that practitioners should emulate in their cultivation.

This scripture elucidates the Daoist theory of cosmic generation and the evolution of all things. Its core teaching describes how the Dao (the Way) gives birth to all phenomena from emptiness, with the dynamic interplay of Yin-Yang producing fundamental elements like the Eight Trigrams (Bagua) and Five Phases (Wuxing), ultimately forming our richly diverse world.

The primordial state is the supremely empty and formless Dao, without physical substance or temporal beginning and end. From this emptiness gradually emerges Shen (spirit, the numinous origin), which transforms into Qi (vital energy), and when Qi condenses, it takes concrete form. This process unfolds in two phases: the upper circle (○) represents the initial stage of Qi transformation, while the lower circle (○) signifies the beginning of material formation.

The mutual interaction of Yin and Yang energies creates four fundamental states (Sixiang): Greater Yang, Lesser Yin, Lesser Yang, and Greater Yin. Through varying patterns of movement and stillness, these four states combine to form the Eight Trigrams: Qian and Dui represent the movement and stillness of Greater Yang; Li and Zhen embody Lesser Yin's dynamics; Gen and Kan manifest Lesser Yang's qualities; while Kun epitomizes Greater Yin. As Yin and Yang energies alternately ascend and descend in perpetual motion, they ultimately generate the sixty-four hexagrams and all phenomena.

All things come into being through the principle of "mutual generation of being and non-being": all phenomena under heaven arise from "being," yet being itself originates from "non-being." All existence is fundamentally based on Qi, which ultimately manifests as form. Both form and Qi are essentially expressions of Shen, which in turn returns to the supremely empty Dao.

The text particularly emphasizes the relationship between the Three Powers (San Cai) of heaven, earth, and humanity: heaven above, earth below, and humans in between. Humans represent the most spiritually endowed beings among all creatures, originally united with heaven and earth. By comprehending this principle, one realizes that the cosmic operations are within one's grasp, and all transformations originate from oneself.

The concluding verse summarizes: The Dao itself is ultimate emptiness without form. From emptiness emerges the divine spirit, whose transformations produce Qi, whose condensation creates form. Yin and Yang interact to establish the positions of Qian (heaven) and Kun (earth), while movement and stillness generate the four states and eight trigrams. The cyclical movement of the Five Phases creates the seasonal changes. This harmonious evolutionary process manifests in celestial phenomena above and terrestrial growth below, with forms interacting with forms and things influencing things in an endless cycle of perpetual generation.

The highest state a human can attain is to establish the root of life between Heaven and Earth, realizing one's true nature through innate spiritual awareness. When both nature and life are firmly established, the primordial spirit (Shen) naturally resides within.

The foundation of life lies in primordial Qi, while the foundation of nature resides in the primordial spirit. By concealing the spirit within the heart and gathering Qi within the body, the true essence of the Dao is naturally embodied.

Physical transformation leads to the cycle of life and death, which is the natural order of all things. The transformation of Qi transcends life and death, revealing the eternal nature of the spirit. Physical changes are as tangible as the earth, while Qi transformations are as mysterious as the heavens—the former is concrete and perceptible, the latter occurs spontaneously through Wuwei (non-action).

Enlightened masters preserve both Qi and spirit, allowing myriad elements to harmonize naturally, ultimately achieving the state of true self. In this supreme realm of authenticity, mystery begets further mystery—substantial form emerges from formlessness, creating what is called the "embryonic immortal" (an advanced state in Neidan practice).

To cultivate this path, one must begin with stillness and emptiness. An empty and still mind eliminates obstructions; complete stillness eradicates desires. In the ultimate state of emptiness and stillness, one can observe the transformations of all things and comprehend their fundamental principles. Movement contains stillness, substance embraces emptiness—these two principles complement each other, allowing the spirit to unite with the Dao.

The Dao governs the spirit, the spirit governs Qi, Qi governs the body, and the body governs life. Transcending life and death ensures the body's longevity; a lasting body stabilizes Qi; stable Qi sustains the spirit; an abiding spirit liberates one from all attachments—this is called the state of "non-abiding."

Through refining the body with golden fluid (a Neidan term referring to cultivated essence) and nourishing the spirit with jade talismans (a cultivation method), both form and spirit reach profound states of mystery, fully merging with the Dao. At this stage, the essence of life crystallizes, one's nature becomes clear like a luminous pearl, the spirit moves freely, the embryonic immortal is perfected, and the natural law of emptiness is fulfilled. How magnificent the primordial spirit is—it is the root of all transformations.

Regarding the "hidden meaning before drawing" (the mysterious state prior to the formation of hexagrams) and the "images of change" (Yijing hexagrams): True "change" is not ordinary transformation, and true "images" are not concrete forms. Before the hexagrams are drawn lies the unchanging Taiji (Supreme Ultimate); after they are formed arises the ever-changing source of creation. The greatest "image" is the origin of movement and stillness, while perceptible "images" are the mother of all things. What remains serene through kalpas is eternal change; what operates ceaselessly since antiquity is transformative change. The formless void is the greatest image, while what manifests through phenomena is the perceptible image. The so-called eternity has neither beginning nor measurable end—even after countless years, it stands alone, enduring forever.

This passage from the Zhonghe Ji (Collected Writings on Central Harmony) elucidates the dialectical relationship between "constancy" and "change," as well as their manifestation within the principles of the Yi (Change).

The first section discusses "constant change" (常易) and "transformative change" (变易). The eternal and unchanging "constancy" encompasses all worldly transformations (such as the cyclical patterns of heaven and earth), while the formless "Great Image" (大象) can describe infinite phenomena. The principles of Yi reveal the essence of the Dao through the interplay of constancy and change. True constancy adapts to transformation, while understanding change allows one to grasp permanence. Like the alternation of movement and stillness—operating independently yet cycling endlessly—these are all expressions of Yi principles.

The second section explores the relationship between "substance" (体) and "function" (用). Constancy is the substance (fundamental principle) of Yi, while change is its function. Sages comprehend the substance of Yi by observing heaven, earth, and the myriad things, while noble persons apply its principles through practice. Whether in self-cultivation (修身齐家) or governing a state, Yi principles are indispensable. Only by fully grasping the substance of Yi can one understand constancy; only by flexibly applying its principles can one respond to change.

The third section examines the dynamics of "movement" (动) and "stillness" (静). From the interplay of Yin-Yang in heaven and earth to the combinations of trigrams, from the flow of Qi to daily routines, all things develop through the alternation of movement and stillness. The fluctuations of the mind and the rise and fall of endeavors follow this rhythm. In stillness, one preserves innate nature; in movement, one discerns principles clearly. Stillness fosters independent insight, while movement enables decisive action. Stillness forms the foundation for movement, and movement creates opportunities for stillness. Mastering this rhythm leads to true understanding.

Through these three conceptual pairs—constancy and change, substance and function, movement and stillness—the text systematically presents a Daoist approach to comprehending the world: one must grasp eternal patterns while adapting to transformation, understand fundamental principles while applying them flexibly, and maintain balance within the dynamic interplay of movement and stillness. This philosophy offers guidance for both spiritual cultivation (Neidan) and worldly engagement.

The alternation of summer's departure and winter's arrival manifests the expansion and contraction of the year's cycles, while the exchange between sun and moon reveals the waxing and waning of Qi's (vital energy) rhythms. The transformation of past into present demonstrates the undulating changes of worldly affairs. All phenomena follow this principle of mutual transformation: being and non-being give birth to each other, difficulty and ease complete one another, length and shortness define each other, height and depth depend upon one another. Understanding this principle of mutual resonance allows one to grasp the infinite mysteries between heaven and earth.

Regarding the law of "waning" (xiao) and "waxing" (xi): Waxing marks the beginning of waning, while waning signifies the completion of waxing. Waxing represents the condensation of Qi (the fundamental substance composing all things in Daoist thought), whereas waning indicates the dissolution of form. The processes of growth and nourishment are called waxing, while returning to the source is called waning. Just as in the Book of Changes where "origination" (yuan) and "penetration" (heng) represent phases of waxing, while "benefit" (li) and "perseverance" (zhen) denote phases of waning; spring and summer are the waxing of the year, autumn and winter its waning; from infancy to prime adulthood is life's waxing, aging and death its waning; emergence from non-being to being is the waxing of all things, while return from being to non-being is their waning. Waxing embodies the tendency toward life, waning the tendency toward death. Since the differentiation of Yin-Yang energies, there has never existed anything that only wanes without waxing, nor anything that only waxes without waning. Those who thoroughly comprehend this principle are sages who understand celestial patterns.

Concerning the mystery of "Shen" (spirit) and "opportunity" (ji): The internal profundity is called Shen (referring to the inherent regularity of things), while its manifested opportunity is called ji. In stillness and non-action resides Shen, in resonant responsiveness appears ji. That which is hidden and unpredictable is Shen, that which operates without exhaustion is ji. What is contained within the individual is Shen, what extends to all things is ji. The omens before fortune or misfortune appear are Shen, the dynamic of ceaseless transformation is ji. Those who possess the four virtues (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom) and ceaselessly strengthen themselves do so because they grasp Shen; those who connect heaven, earth, and humanity and apply them without exhaustion do so because they master ji.

Regarding the relationship between "wisdom" (zhi) and "practice" (xing): Wisdom is profound understanding of principles, while practice is diligent cultivation of the Dao (the Way). Those who truly understand principles need not see with their eyes to know; those who truly practice the Dao need not act deliberately to accomplish. To know the world's affairs without leaving one's door, to perceive celestial patterns without looking through windows—this is true wisdom. To strengthen oneself without ceasing, being appropriate in all situations—this is genuine practice. To foresee disorder before it arises, to detect crisis before it appears, to know decline before it arrives, to perceive calamity before it occurs—this is profound wisdom. To maintain wisdom within body and mind without being burdened by them, to let practice follow one's original nature without being driven by desires, to dwell in the world without being changed by customs, to act without being obstructed by external things—this is authentic practice. Those who deeply understand principles can transform chaos into order, turn danger into safety, rescue perishing states, and dissolve disasters.

Those who cultivate the Great Dao (大道) can attain four realms: enabling their bodies to enter the domain of longevity, elevating their minds to the realm of profound mystery, realizing a golden age of peace in the world, and achieving complete success in their endeavors. Only those endowed with great wisdom and profound Virtue (德) can attain such accomplishments.

The key to understanding the changes of the times lies in recognizing the opportune moment; the key to recognizing the opportune moment lies in comprehending the principles; and the key to comprehending the principles lies in maintaining emptiness and stillness. When the mind is empty, clarity emerges; when the heart is tranquil, insight arises. When the nature of clarity resides within oneself, the principles of Heaven (天理) will naturally manifest. By studying the "Book of Changes" (易经), one can understand celestial phenomena; by observing the hexagrams, one can verify the trends of the times.

The true nature of things can be discerned through their outward forms. Things that rely on form must come in pairs; things that display color must have distinctions. Before rain falls, the air becomes damp; before a mountain collapses, its base begins to crumble; before fortune or misfortune befalls a person, their countenance changes first. Just as a bird's nest can foretell wind and rain, a cave can sense rainfall, hibernating insects can perceive seasonal changes, and falling leaves herald the arrival of autumn. In ancient times, merchants used pheasant tail feathers on carts and boats to predict the weather: in clear weather, the feathers stood upright, while before rain, they drooped. Even inanimate objects can perceive such changes—how much more so for humans? People today fail to recognize the shifts of the times because they have yet to grasp the underlying principles.

To elevate Virtue (德) and cultivate achievements, the most crucial task is to rectify oneself. Once one is rectified, nothing remains unrectified. No name can be established without rectitude, and no endeavor can succeed without it. In daily interactions with others, everything begins with oneself. All principles of things also originate from the self. Therefore, the foundation of cultivation must lie in rectifying oneself. When one treats others with rectitude, others will respond in kind; when one handles affairs with rectitude, matters will follow the right path; when one interacts with all things with rectitude, all things will return to harmony. Only the purest "rectitude" in the world can respond to the myriad changes of existence. Thus, it is evident that rectifying oneself is both an essential method of cultivation and a stairway to the realm of sages.

The concrete methods of cultivation are as follows: purify the heart, relinquish attachments, sever excessive thoughts, forget selfish desires, minimize personal gain, restrain cravings, preserve one's true nature, and maintain simplicity. These are the practices of the Dao of Change (易道). When the heart is purified and attachments are relinquished, one fully comprehends the principles of things; when thoughts are severed and selfish desires forgotten, one fully realizes one's innate nature; when personal desires are entirely eliminated, one apprehends the Great Dao (大道); and by preserving purity and simplicity, one understands the Dao of Heaven (天道).

The highest state of resonance is this: in stillness, one naturally attains understanding; through non-action (无为), one naturally achieves success; without seeing, one knows. This is the realm of resonance described in the Dao of Change (易道).

This passage from the Zhonghe Ji (Harmony and Equilibrium Collection) elucidates the cultivation path and principles of resonance pertaining to the "Three Changes" (Heavenly Change, Sage's Change, and Mind Change).

Regarding the Dao of resonance, the scripture states: True mastery does not mean responding only when events occur, but perceiving them before they manifest. If one can cultivate in these three states—preparing before resonance arises, becoming aware before action begins, and foreseeing before events sprout—these three aspects complement each other, leading to a state of omniscient responsiveness and universal efficacy. Yan Hui (Confucius' most accomplished disciple) was one who fully embodied this Dao.

The "Three Changes" refer to:

1. Heavenly Change (the patterns of cosmic operation), which forms the fundamental principle of Change studies;

2. Sage's Change (the Change transmitted by sages), revealed through hexagram imagery;

3. Mind Change (the Dao of Change in spiritual cultivation), which is the path of practical cultivation.

Studying the Sage's Change emphasizes understanding hexagram imagery—comprehending the imagery leads to sagehood.

Studying Heavenly Change emphasizes exhaustively investigating principles—understanding principles reveals the Dao of Heaven.

Studying Mind Change emphasizes practicing the Dao—actual cultivation perfects one's nature.

Without learning the sages' Change, one cannot understand the Heavenly Dao; without understanding the Heavenly Dao, one cannot grasp spiritual cultivation; without understanding spiritual cultivation, one cannot respond to transformations. Thus, the Yijing (Book of Changes) teaches how to respond to transformation.

Regarding discernment:

The waxing and waning of Qi, the rising and falling of seasons, the smoothness and adversity of fortune, and the openness or obstruction of eras—these belong to Heavenly Change.

The auspiciousness or inauspiciousness of hexagrams, the gain or loss of lines, the difficulty or ease of judgments, and the clarity or obscurity of images—these belong to Sage's Change.

The limitations or success of destiny, the advance or retreat of one's person, the achievement or failure of worldly affairs, and the safety or peril of position—these belong to Mind Change.

Deep study of Heavenly Change reveals temporal patterns; study of Sage's Change illuminates transformation; study of Mind Change comprehends innate nature and life. Using Mind Change to understand Sage's Change, using Sage's Change to deduce Heavenly Change, and using Heavenly Change to contemplate Mind Change—when these three are fully integrated, one becomes the most accomplished practitioner.

The text concludes:

Transformation has its timing; safety and danger lie within oneself. Fortune and misfortune, gain and loss all originate from within. Those skilled at adapting to change can seize the moment—those who seize the moment remain safe even in peril. Those who understand adaptability can govern effectively even in chaotic times. Those who do not lose their root find clarity in confusion; those who act carelessly remain deluded even in abundance. Those who conceal their wisdom remain unharmed in adversity; those who flaunt their possessions invite disaster despite prosperity. Those with shared aspirations resonate across distances; those with conflicting hearts cannot connect even when near.

This scripture primarily expounds on principles for conducting oneself in the world and cultivating personal character.

Those who appear soft and weak yet prevail do so because they receive external support; those who remain strong without committing errors succeed by mastering correct methods. Assisting others in times of crisis can avert disasters; maintaining humility when facing malicious individuals prevents resentment. People who neglect moral cultivation (De) find no place in the world, while those who disregard self-cultivation gain no benefits. Arrogant, autocratic individuals never succeed, whereas those who maintain reverence and constant self-reflection receive blessings.

Those who help others will in turn be helped; those who benefit others will themselves prosper; honest people gain trust, and those who show kindness receive reciprocation. Those who fear misfortune often avoid it; those wary of mistakes seldom err; the vigilant naturally attract good fortune, while those who disregard blessings inevitably invite calamity. Thus, safety and danger, fortune and misfortune all depend on oneself—what room remains for doubt?

Chapter Sixteen, "Sacred Achievement," explains that sages become sages precisely because they comprehend and apply the principles of the Book of Changes (Yijing). The key to successfully applying the Yijing lies in maintaining a mindset of emptiness and stillness (Xu-Jing). "Emptiness" means embracing all things, while "stillness" signifies clear perception. Only with vast emptiness can one receive all phenomena; only with inner stillness can one respond to worldly affairs. Prolonged cultivation of emptiness and stillness leads to a state of luminous clarity.

"Emptiness" characterizes Heaven (the cosmos), while "stillness" defines Earth. Heaven's ceaseless motion appears empty, while Earth's massive burden-bearing remains silent. The boundless sky manifests "emptiness," the expansive earth embodies "stillness." The law of Heaven and Earth is precisely this "emptiness and stillness." If humans can maintain this state, they essentially possess the qualities of Heaven and Earth. The Dao De Jing states: "When humans maintain constant purity and stillness, all things of Heaven and Earth return to them." This purity and stillness constitute "emptiness-stillness"—the very essence of sacred virtue (De) and achievement.

This scripture elucidates the core principles and symbolic imagery of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. The four diagrams on the left reveal the supreme mysteries of cultivation:

The first diagram, marked with the character "安" (peace), depicts the alchemical furnace (jade furnace) appearing indistinct yet capable of supporting heaven and earth. This furnace refines Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit), enabling practitioners to manifest transformation from nothingness to profound realization.

The second "立" (establishment) diagram represents the alchemical cauldron—seemingly void in appearance yet containing sublime emptiness within. Only determined cultivators who transcend conventional understanding can perceive the authentic "red" (symbolizing primordial Yang Qi).

The third "还" (return) diagram reveals the true nature of the "elixir." Humanity's innate luminous awareness (referred to as "the shore beyond sound") becomes obscured by worldly desires. Through forging the Golden Elixir, one restores the original state of perfect clarity.

The fourth diagram emphasizes Dao's natural Wuwei (non-action) essence. Sages employ symbols to express truth, yet Dao manifests in ordinary life. Only by piercing through appearances can one recognize the primordial source ("before the image of divinity").

The accompanying verses correlate the Yijing (Book of Changes) hexagrams with temporal cycles for refining the "fire times" of practice: Beginning at the Zi hour (associated with the Fu hexagram), progressing through Chou (Lin hexagram), Yin (Tai hexagram) etc., each period has specific cultivation focuses—"bathing in the silver river" denotes gentle purification, while "meeting the jade pass" signifies crucial breakthroughs. Through the "three returns and nine restorations" (repeated refinement returning Jing-Qi-Shen to their primordial state), practitioners ultimately achieve the "pure Yang body," fully manifesting their innate nature.

Note: "Three returns and nine restorations" denotes the Neidan process of cyclical refinement to restore primordial conditions; "pure Yang" signifies the perfected state free from turbid Yin influences.

This passage explains the theory of "internal and external medicines" in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, which consists of two main components.

The external medicine refers to cultivating the physical body through deliberate methods, involving three crucial stages. First is the "refining essence into qi" phase, where practitioners must seize the opportune moment when vital essence (Tiankui) arises in the body to collect it. Next comes the "refining qi into spirit" phase, achieved by regulating breath to circulate genuine qi through the meridians, moving inversely from the perineum (Great Mysterious Pass) to the crown of the head (Celestial Valley point). The final stage is "refining spirit to return to emptiness," where consciousness returns to its original nature. External medicine cultivation can cure illnesses, prolong life, and help attain the state of terrestrial immortality.

The internal medicine represents a higher level of practice emphasizing Wuwei (non-action) and natural spontaneity. Practitioners achieve miraculous effects without deliberate effort. Though formless and immaterial, internal medicine is profoundly real—it primarily cultivates the spiritual body and enables transcendence of life and death, leading to aquatic immortality. Those with superior spiritual capacity may directly practice internal medicine.

Combining both internal and external medicines leads to the highest attainment—the path of celestial immortality. External medicine completes physical cultivation (perfecting life), while internal medicine accomplishes spiritual refinement (perfecting nature). When both are mastered, practitioners achieve complete perfection where form and spirit become marvelously unified.

The text mentions several key Neidan terms: "Yellow Court" refers to the middle Dantian (energy center), "the intercourse of Qian and Kun" symbolizes the fusion of Yin-Yang energies, and "a single point descending to the Yellow Court" describes the visualization of qi returning to the Dantian. These terms represent critical junctures in internal alchemy practice.

This scripture elucidates the core principles and stages of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. The central concept is "innate true yang" (the pure yang energy inherent in the human body from birth), explained through the hexagrams of the Yijing (Book of Changes): when the central yang line of the Qian hexagram (pure yang) combines with the Kun hexagram (pure yin), it forms the Kan hexagram (water), which contains the hidden "gold within water" (the original Jing/essence). This constitutes the fundamental material for alchemical refinement.

The practice follows two opposing directions: in the natural state, innate Qi gradually dissipates and transforms into acquired physical forms (the forward process); whereas practitioners must reverse this by refining acquired Jing-Qi back to its innate state through methods like "extracting from Kan to replenish Li" (the reverse process). The practice unfolds in three stages: first refining Jing into Qi (cultivation in the lower Dantian), then transforming Qi into Shen/spirit (middle Dantian cultivation), and finally returning Shen to emptiness (upper Dantian cultivation).

The scripture particularly emphasizes the distinction between "internal medicine" (innate Jing-Qi-Shen) and "external medicine" (acquired Jing-Qi-Shen). Authentic practice involves activating innate energies—for instance, "gathering the medicine" doesn't mean collecting external substances but awakening the original Jing within through specific methods. When the yang energy (gold) within the Kan hexagram (water) is activated and rises to combine with the yin energy (mercury) in the Li hexagram (fire), the crucial step in alchemical cultivation is accomplished.

The text concludes that profound understanding of these principles reveals the essential teachings common to Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. Those who haven't yet grasped them should continue studying subsequent materials. The initial stage of "refining Jing into Qi" is especially vital—one must gather the original Jing at precise moments (such as during "Gui birth," when yang energy first stirs) using specialized methods. This gathering occurs through Wuwei (non-action), as a spontaneous natural process.

This scripture elucidates the three core stages of Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation: refining Jing (essence) into Qi (vital energy), transforming Qi into Shen (spirit), and returning Shen to emptiness.

The first section discusses "gathering lead" (collecting primordial Qi). Just as the Qian hexagram (representing pure Yang) interacts with the Kun hexagram (representing pure Yin) to produce the Kan hexagram (where the single Yang line within Kan symbolizes gold within water), this "gold within water" represents the essential substance practitioners seek to gather. The author employs the metaphor "the mother hidden within the child's womb" to illustrate how primordial Qi resides within the postnatal physical form, much like a mother concealed within her fetus. References to winter solstice meditation practices hint at the crucial timing for gathering this medicinal energy.

The second section explains the transformation of Qi into Shen. Drawing parallels between Buddhist "cultivating stillness in the Li palace" and the alchemical principle of "true earth controlling true lead," it describes how regulated breathing unites spirit and energy. Respiration should mirror the natural rhythms of heaven and earth—an endless cycle of expansion and contraction. Quoting the Daode Jing's concept of "the gateway of the mysterious female," the text emphasizes breathing as the key to cultivation.

The third stage—refining Shen into emptiness—is presented as the simplest phase, where conscious effort becomes unnecessary.

The conclusion cites Zhang Boduan's Wuzhen pian (Awakening to Reality) theory of "three fives combining into one," explaining how the Five Phases (three in the east, two in the south, one in the north, four in the west) harmonize through central earth (represented by Wu-Ji) to ultimately form the "infant" (Golden Elixir). The author asserts these fifty-six characters encapsulate the essence of alchemical practice—mastering them equates to comprehending all Neidan scriptures.

This passage reveals the mysteries of the "Three Primordial Energies and Five Phases" in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Numbers symbolize the Five Phases: the eastern three represents Wood (Yang), the southern two represents Fire (Yang). Wood generating Fire resembles a mother-child relationship, both belonging to Yang—their sum being five. The northern one represents Water (Yin), the western four represents Metal (Yin). Metal generating Water also forms a mother-child relationship, both being Yin—their sum also five. The central Earth (referring to the spleen-earth of the middle palace) inherently carries the number five, requiring no pairing, standing complete on its own.

The so-called "meeting of the three families" refers to the fusion of the Three Primordial Energies (Jing, Qi, Shen) with the Qi of the Five Phases into oneness. Like an infant's pristine purity, this is actually a metaphor for the cultivated pure Yang Qi. Through a gestation-like process (symbolically ten months, practically three hundred days), the two medicinal substances (referring to the Kan and Li energies of Yin-Yang) undergo repeated refinement, ultimately transcending the ordinary to attain sagehood.

From the human body's perspective: Eastern Wood corresponds to human nature, Western Metal to emotions, Southern Fire to the primordial spirit (Yuan Shen), and Northern Water to the primordial essence (Yuan Jing). Nature governs the heart, which houses the primordial spirit—thus nature and spirit both anchor in the heart (Wood-Fire combining as five). Primordial essence governs the body, which carries emotions—thus essence and emotions both anchor in the body (Metal-Water combining as five). Central Earth corresponds to intention, ruling over the four directions and Five Phases, requiring no pairing, complete unto itself.

The crux of cultivation lies in gathering body, mind, and intention. Maintaining mental emptiness and stillness allows the primordial spirit to unite with nature; bodily tranquility pacifies primordial essence and emotions; stabilized intention blends the Three Primordial Energies into oneness. This is the so-called "three blossoms gathering at the crown, five energies returning to the origin" (signifying the convergence of Jing-Qi-Shen and the unification of the five viscera's true Qi), ultimately crystallizing into the sacred embryo (Neidan).

This passage elucidates the core principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. It employs the symbolic systems of the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) and the Eight Trigrams (Zhen, Li, Kun, Kan, Dui, etc.) to explain the transformative process of Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) within the human body.

The cultivation process consists of three crucial stages: First is "refining essence into qi" (initial stage), requiring physical stillness; next comes "refining qi into spirit" (intermediate stage), demanding mental tranquility; finally, "refining spirit into emptiness" (advanced stage) necessitates complete stillness of consciousness. These three stages correspond respectively to cultivation at the levels of body, mind, and intention.

The text uses numerical and directional metaphors: the Eastern three (associated with Wood, corresponding to the ethereal soul), the Southern two (Fire), the Central five (Earth, representing the True Earth), the Northern one (Water), and the Western four (Metal, corresponding to the corporeal soul). When body, mind, and intention unite (termed "the meeting of three families"), the practitioner forms the "infant" (a Neidan term denoting spiritual achievement), thereby completing the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir.

The accompanying diagram further explains: The Eastern three represents Heaven's three generating Wood, corresponding to the Zhen trigram in the Yijing (Classic of Changes), symbolizing the eldest son and the ethereal soul; the Southern two represents Earth's two generating Fire, called the Li trigram, representing the middle daughter and the Vermilion Bird (southern divine phoenix); the Central five represents Heaven's five generating Earth, positioned in the Kun trigram, symbolizing the mother and True Earth; the Northern one represents Heaven's one generating Water, called the Kan trigram, representing the middle son and the Dark Warrior (northern divine turtle); the Western four represents Earth's four generating Metal, called the Dui trigram, representing the youngest daughter and the corporeal soul.

The text concludes by identifying: body, mind, and intention as the "three families"; essence, qi, and spirit as the "three origins"; the ethereal soul, corporeal soul, spirit, and intention as the "five energies"; while lead, mercury, silver, cinnabar, and earth represent the Five Phases. When the three families unite, it's called "perfect gestation" (completion of cultivation); when the three origins merge, it's termed "elixir completion" (achievement of the Golden Elixir). This passage was composed at Zhonghe Temple on Luan River during the birthday celebration of Lü Dongbin in the third year of the Dade era (1299 CE), specifically explaining the crucial practice of the "mysterious pass single aperture" (xuanguan yi qiao).

This passage elucidates two core Daoist concepts: the Mysterious Pass (Xuanguan) and the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan).

Regarding the Mysterious Pass—the pivotal point in cultivation—the text clarifies it is not any specific physical location: neither the Yintang (between eyebrows), crown of the head, navel, bladder, nor kidney region. It permeates the entire body from head to toe, yet cannot be sought outside the physical form. The author employs a puppet metaphor: just as a puppet's movements appear to originate from its limbs while actually being controlled by strings manipulated by a hidden operator, our bodily movements seem to stem from our physical form but are truly directed by the Mysterious Pass, which in turn is governed by the "Master" (one's original spirit or true self). Understanding this principle makes the path to immortality attainable.

Concerning the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir—Daoism's supreme cultivation method—the scripture emphasizes its foundation in emptiness (Xu) and application through tranquility. Because this profound truth eludes ordinary comprehension, ancient sages employed metaphors and specialized terminology in alchemical texts to guide later practitioners. Unfortunately, subsequent students either became attached to literal interpretations or produced misguided commentaries, fragmenting the complete Dao. Worse still, contemporary superficial thinkers distort classical meanings and mislead others. The author thus provides this "touchstone" to help cultivators discern truth from falsehood. The passage concludes with a sage's teaching: though cultivation methods number 3,600, true mystery resides not in these techniques but in grasping the essential principle.

This text particularly cautions practitioners: do not be deceived by superficial appearances—see beyond bodily movements to perceive the Mysterious Pass's operation, and transcend various methods to apprehend the essence of the Golden Elixir's Great Dao.

Here we discuss certain erroneous cultivation methods in Daoist practice that are classified as the "Three Inferior Grades," all of which belong to heterodox paths.

The lowest and most depraved methods (the lowest of inferior grades) are the so-called "Muddy Water Elixir Techniques," comprising over three hundred deviant practices. Examples include: using the female body as a cauldron for alchemical refinement, employing menstrual blood as medicinal material, absurdly claiming women possess pure Yang bodies, engaging with nine women monthly as a "Nine Cauldrons" cultivation method to complete nine cycles over nine years; facilitating intercourse between prepubescent children to harvest their first essence; and various bedroom arts like "Nine Shallow, One Deep" techniques. These are utterly preposterous and perverse arts.

Slightly better but still heterodox (middle of inferior grades) are approximately three hundred mistaken methods. Examples include: crafting "Purple River Chariots" from placentas, refining "Autumn Stones" from urine, swallowing one's own semen under the guise of "Returning to Origin"; or having women ingest mineral-based elixirs for ten months before extracting so-called "Ultimate Medicine." These too are deviant practices.

The relatively higher but still misguided methods (upper tier of inferior grades) comprise over four hundred techniques, primarily various alchemical practices. Examples include: smelting the "Five Metals and Eight Minerals" (various metallic ores) to create mercury compounds, or ingesting Waidan (external elixirs) made from plants, minerals, and metals.

These Three Inferior Grades collectively encompass over a thousand methods, pursued only by those driven by lust and material gain.

The Three Middle Grades of cultivation include: extreme fasting and grain avoidance, enduring harsh cold, consuming filth, ingesting pepperwood and other plants, sun-baking one's back or lying on ice as ascetic practices; maintaining daily purification fasts—some completely vegetarian, others deliberately consuming bizarre foods; using alcohol tolerance as a test of attainment, or extreme dietary restrictions like abstaining from all five flavors.

The text describes three levels of cultivation practice, each further divided into upper, middle, and lower grades. Let us first examine the middle-grade practices:

Lower middle-grade practitioners may abstain from ordinary food (consuming only wine and meat), disregarding physical health while falsely claiming this as the state of "Wuwei" (non-action). Some adopt eccentric behaviors or pretend to commune with spirits—these represent rather crude approaches to cultivation.

Middle middle-grade practitioners primarily focus on swallowing morning mists, absorbing the essences of sun and moon (collecting solar and lunar essences), ingesting stellar radiance (devouring astral lights), and drawing in the Qi of the five directions. Some gather the energies of water and fire, while others employ visualization techniques (concentrated imagination) to journey mentally through the nine continents. There are those who visualize the Yin and Yang energies within their bodies taking male and female forms, imitating human marital union (the appearance of conjugal exchange), using such illusory imaginings for cultivation—all these remain fundamentally impractical methods.

Upper middle-grade practices are more orthodox, including receiving the Three Refuges and Five Precepts (basic Daoist precepts), reciting scriptures, and studying authentic ritual methods. These practitioners emphasize accumulating external merit (external achievements) through practices like venerating the stars (star-gazing and constellation worship), maintaining silence (observing speech abstinence), and diligent training. Though these methods still involve deliberate action, they gradually approach the true path.

Now we turn to the upper-grade practices:

Lower upper-grade methods include: seated meditation with visualization (stable contemplation), observing one's physical form (mirroring the body), breath regulation (exhalation and inhalation), therapeutic massage (kneading and balancing), and health-preserving exercises like the Eight Brocades and Six Healing Sounds. Some focus on the crown of the head (gazing at the vertex) or navel (guarding the umbilical stem) during practice, some swallow saliva (ingesting fluids), while others stir the mouth's secretions with the tongue (churning divine water). There are those who liken the tongue to a crimson dragon, generating bodily heat through friction as "fire times" (a cultivation term referring to practice sensations), or regard saliva as the "true seed" of cultivation. Though more advanced, these methods still emphasize physical cultivation.

Middle upper-grade techniques are more refined: breath suspension and Qi circulation (closed breathing and Qi movement), joint-flexing exercises (bending and stretching), kidney-massage, focusing on the third eye (guarding the seal hall), rotating the eyeballs (moving both pupils), and spinal mobilization (shaking the spine). Some visualize their eyes as sun and moon, regard the third eye as the mysterious pass (a crucial point in cultivation), or consider teeth-knocking as opening the celestial gate (referring to the crown). Others imagine their Shen (spirit) exiting through the crown, undertake dream journeys to immortal realms, or silently worship the Celestial Emperor. These methods already involve spiritual cultivation.

Upper upper-grade represents the highest practice: harmonizing Jing (essence) and Qi (circulating essence and moving Qi), returning the three fires (referring to the fires of upper, middle, and lower Dantian) below the navel, balancing the five organs, practicing sixteen visualization methods, stabilizing the Dantian, and ingesting the central yellow Qi (referring to genuine internal Qi). Cultivating the three fields (upper, middle, and lower Dantian) circulation, replenishing the brain and returning essence, and performing advanced Jing-Qi circulation (rotational movement) through techniques like hand-clenching and inner vision—these constitute the most elevated methods.

Finally, it should be noted that these three grades encompass over a thousand methods. Persistent practice of any can gradually lead to progress, but practitioners must be particularly careful to select methods suited to their individual constitution.

This scripture primarily elucidates the three progressive stages of Daoist cultivation (lower, middle, and superior vehicles) along with the ultimate method (the supreme vehicle).

The foundational "lower vehicle" practice treats the body as the alchemical cauldron, with essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi) serving as the medicinal ingredients. The heart and kidneys represent water and fire respectively, the five viscera correspond to the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), while the liver and lungs symbolize the dragon and tiger, with bodily essences forming the foundation of practice. Cultivation follows specific temporal cycles for breath regulation (fire phases), nourishing the body through saliva swallowing (bathing), and emphasizes the three essentials of mouth and nose breathing. The crucial focal point lies between the kidneys and behind the navel (the Mysterious Pass). When the Five Phases' energies fuse, the internal elixir (Neidan) is forged. This most accessible longevity method encompasses over a hundred specific techniques; if one can relinquish distracting thoughts, it may prolong life.

The "middle vehicle" practice takes heaven and earth as its cauldron, with the Kan (Water) and Li (Fire) trigrams representing water and fire, while the essences of sun and moon (the crow and hare) serve as medicinal ingredients. Here, spirit (Shen), ethereal and corporeal souls, and intention correspond to the Five Phases, with body and mind transforming into dragon and tiger, and breath forming the foundation. The annual seasonal transitions govern the cultivation rhythm (fire phases), with internal fluids providing nourishment (bathing). Practitioners must maintain inner focus and external detachment (consolidation), concentrating on the three Dantian energy centers (the Great Abyss, Crimson Palace, and Essence Chamber). Complete fusion of spiritual energies forges the internal elixir. Though methodologically similar to the lower vehicle, this represents a higher attainment—persistent practice may lead to extended longevity.

The "superior vehicle" employs the cosmos as its cauldron, with sun and moon as water and fire, and the transformations of Yin-Yang as its pivotal mechanism. Alchemical terms like lead and mercury symbolize the Five Phases' energies, with innate nature and emotions becoming dragon and tiger, and right mindfulness as foundation. Through heart-mind regulation one cultivates intention (fire phases), quelling distractions to nurture true fire (fire tending), maintaining inner luminosity (consolidation), and subduing mental demons (battle array). This practice emphasizes harmony of body, mind, and intention, with the celestial heart (crown of the head) as focal point. When emotions return to original nature, the internal elixir is formed, with breath harmonization purifying body and mind (bathing). Though structurally resembling the middle vehicle, this represents the highest longevity method—those who persevere to completion may attain immortality.

The ultimate "supreme vehicle" constitutes the unsurpassable final teaching. Here, the Great Void (cosmic origin) becomes the cauldron, the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji, cosmic principle) the furnace, with pristine mind as elixir foundation and natural spontaneity as elixir matrix. Through the dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming Shuangxiu), one realizes the unity of heaven and humanity. This represents the most profound path of cultivation.

In the practice of Neidan (internal alchemy), lead and mercury (symbolizing the Yin and Yang energies within the body) are likened to concentration and wisdom, while restraining desires and pacifying anger are compared to harmonizing water and fire (referring to the balance of Yin and Yang). The integration of one's innate nature and acquired emotions is akin to the union of metal and wood (in the Five Phases, metal overcomes wood, here representing the unity of opposites). Clearing distracting thoughts and purifying the mind is like bathing both body and spirit, and maintaining sincere, steadfast intent stabilizes the foundation of cultivation.

Precepts, meditation, and wisdom are the three essential principles, with the "Middle Way" (the balanced path free from extremes) serving as the key to practice. Realizing the mind and perceiving one's true nature signify the fruition of cultivation. When Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) merge into one, the Sacred Embryo (an advanced stage in Neidan practice) is formed. The complete fusion of nature (spirit) and life (physical body) results in the refinement of the Golden Elixir. The emergence of the Yang Spirit (a transcendent form beyond the physical body) marks a rebirth, and only by transcending the constraints of emptiness can the great achievement be fulfilled.

This is the most profound method of cultivation, accessible only to virtuous adepts of supreme integrity. Attaining a state where both form and spirit become mysteriously unfathomable allows complete unity with the Dao, culminating in the embodiment of a true immortal.

Jie'an Qiongchanzi Cheng Andao inquired of his master about the fundamental principles shared by Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. At that time, Yingchanzi was seated in meditation at the "Toad Grotto" (a cultivation site), where the night moon cast a pure light and the air was crystalline—so pristine it seemed one could hold it in one's hands. Suddenly, the disciple Qiongchanzi reflected that life and death are the great matters of human existence, that the realm of immortals is worthy of reverence and pursuit, and that cultivation requires single-minded dedication. With deep respect, he bowed and asked: "Since ancient times, the sages who attained the Dao and became immortals all achieved this through practicing the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan). And this cultivation invariably takes lead and mercury as the foundation of the Golden Elixir. But I wonder, what exactly do the classics mean by 'lead and mercury'?"

The master replied: "True lead and mercury are the origin of all things in heaven and earth, the foundation for cultivating the Golden Elixir. They are not the vulgar substances of black lead, quicksilver, or cinnabar. Sadly, many fail to grasp this truth and indulge in wild speculation, not only misleading later students and wasting their time but even causing them to squander their entire lives—truly lamentable. Without guidance from an enlightened master, such conjectures are futile. As the Perfected Purple Sun (Zhang Boduan, the renowned Northern Song Daoist) said: 'Even if one were wiser than virtuous sages like Yan Hui or Min Ziqian, without encountering a true master's transmission, one must not forcibly speculate.'"

"Now I shall reveal to you the true form of lead and mercury: they are none other than our body and mind. The patriarchs have said, 'The two words "body and mind" are both the medicinal ingredients and the firing process (essential elements of cultivation).' They also said, 'To know the source where the medicine is produced, look to the native land in the southwest'—the southwest corresponds to the Kun position in the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), symbolizing earth and the physical body. The essence within the human body is the yang within yin. Just as the single yang line of the Qian trigram (symbolizing heaven) enters Kun to form the Kan trigram (symbolizing water), appearing yin on the outside while concealing yang within—seemingly Kun in form yet harboring Qian in nature. Kan water contains Qian's metal (primordial qi), hence it is provisionally called 'metal within water.'"

"As for mercury, it refers to the primordial qi in the heart, belonging to yang within yin. Just as the single yin line of the Kun trigram enters Qian to form the Li trigram (symbolizing fire), appearing yang on the outside while concealing yin within—seemingly Qian in form yet harboring Kun in nature. Li fire contains Kun's earth (primordial subtlety), hence it is provisionally called 'mercury within cinnabar.' The mysterious relationship between essence (Jing) and qi (Qi) is roughly illustrated by the metaphor of lead and mercury, meant to help practitioners understand the substance and function of cultivation. Ultimately, it never strays from the two words 'body and mind.' When body and mind are fully unified, the distinction between lead and mercury vanishes."

The disciple then asked: "What is meant by 'extraction and replenishment' (Choutian, a cultivation term referring to the method of regulating essence and qi)?" The master explained: "When the body is unmoving and the breath is settled, this is called 'extraction'; when the mind is unmoving and the spirit is settled, this is called 'replenishment.' When both body and mind are tranquil and spirit and qi congeal, this is called 'returning to the origin.' This method of cultivation is, in essence, about drawing the yang qi from Kan to replenish the yin in Li, ultimately restoring the pure yang state of Qian. This is the profound meaning of 'extracting lead to replenish mercury.'"

Someone asks: What is "refining and cooking"? The answer: When body and mind are nearly merged but not yet fully united, if any distraction arises, one must overcome it with firm and resolute intention—this is called "martial refinement." When body and mind have already merged and essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi) have intermingled, one must maintain this state with a gentle and tranquil heart—this is called "civil cooking." The principle is simple: it is essentially about subduing body and mind, which is what is meant by "cooking lead and refining mercury" (a Neidan term referring to the cultivation of Jing, Qi, and Shen).

Forget worldly emotions and nurture your innate nature; keep the mind empty and nourish the spirit (Shen). All external attachments will naturally cease, all distracting thoughts will fully settle, body and mind will stabilize without movement, the spirit will gather, and the breath will harmonize—this forms the foundation for refining the elixir, metaphorically called the "sacred embryo." The various terms mentioned above all essentially refer to using innate nature to govern emotions. When nature is tranquil and emotions dissolve, one can perceive the original face, return to the source, and recover the true self—this is called "elixir completion," also metaphorically termed "shedding the mortal shell."

Someone asks: All alchemical scriptures say the key to cultivation lies in the "mysterious pass" (Xuanguan), but where exactly is it? The answer: The mysterious pass is the most profound pivot—it has no fixed location. Fixating on a specific point in the body is wrong, and seeking it outside the body is also wrong. Clinging to the body leads to attachment to form; clinging to externals leads to attachment to matter. The mysterious pass actually resides beyond the "four elements" (earth, water, fire, wind—a Buddhist concept referring to the basic components of the material world) and the Five Phases, in a place free from fixation.

Let me offer an analogy for clarity: Consider a puppet. Its limb movements and various dances rely on strings and mechanisms, but in truth, they are controlled by the puppeteer. The puppet resembles the human body and limbs, the strings resemble the mysterious pass, and the puppeteer resembles the original true nature. Without strings, the puppet cannot move; without the mysterious pass, a person cannot act. Simply apply effort inwardly in daily life—whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down—and observe what it is that is aware when speaking, silent, seeing, or listening. When body and mind grow still and the inner clarity emerges, the wondrous function of the mysterious pass will naturally reveal itself. The Book of Changes states: "Utter stillness without movement" is the essence of the mysterious pass, while "responsive and thereby penetrating" is its wondrous function. Once you perceive the mysterious pass yourself, all necessary elements for cultivation—the medicinal ingredients, firing times, the Three Origins (Jing, Qi, Shen), and the Eight Trigrams—are already contained within it.

Nowadays, some mistake tangible locations for the mysterious pass. Even with diligent practice, success remains elusive. If I were to point it out directly, you likely wouldn’t believe me—it must be realized through personal insight. Just as Confucianism speaks of the "learning of the primordial" (the study of cosmic origins), it too requires silent contemplation. As Mencius said....

The vast Qi that fills heaven and earth is truly beyond the power of words to describe. Is not this ineffable mystical state precisely the "mysterious pass" (xuan'guan, a key concept in Daoist cultivation) that practitioners seek? Just as Buddhism transcends reliance on scriptures, advocating direct transmission beyond texts that one must intuitively grasp, this represents the so-called ineffable profundity. Those who comprehend this principle can penetrate all things and achieve complete understanding.

Some ask: Does Buddhism and Daoism's promise of transcending the cycle of life and death, while Confucianism only perfects human relationships, indicate fundamental differences among the Three Teachings? In truth, those who truly understand the great Dao would never be troubled by matters of life and death. If one thoroughly investigates cosmic principles, penetrates one's essential nature to comprehend the Mandate of Heaven, traces the origin of all things, and understands the patterns of heaven and earth, one naturally grasps the true meaning of life and death. The Confucian transmission of the "learning of nature and life" (xingming zhi xue, concerning the essence of existence), when fully realized, equally enables transcendence of the birth-death cycle.

When the ancient sage Fuxi first drew the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), he established teaching in accordance with the Dao of Heaven, using the great Dao to guide the people—at that time there was no distinction among the Three Teachings. Thus it is said: Heaven does not have two Daos, and the sages' heart-method is one. The initial stroke "一" symbolizes the Supreme Ultimate (Taiji, the cosmic origin); from this "one" emerges "two," representing the two modes of Yin and Yang. Observing heaven above, one draws a horizontal line to symbolize heaven; observing earth below, another line symbolizes earth; between them, a third line represents humanity—these three lines form the Qian (Heaven) trigram, embodying the Three Powers (san cai) of heaven, earth and man. Breaking the Qian trigram in the middle transforms it into the Kun (Earth) trigram, three lines becoming six, symbolizing the six directions of space (up, down, and the four cardinal directions). Therefore: Heaven's Dao lies in the transformations of Yin-Yang; Earth's Dao in the interplay of firm and yielding; Humanity's Dao in the balanced cultivation of benevolence and righteousness. When the Three Powers each divide into Yin and Yang, the six lines form the Kun trigram.

Using the human body as analogy: Heaven's Dao corresponds to the Yin-Yang transformations of Shen (spirit) and Qi; Earth's Dao to the firm-yielding characteristics of physical form; Humanity's Dao to the rational-emotional nature of consciousness where benevolence and righteousness reside. The triad of heart-mind, body, and intention resembles the Three Powers of the Qian trigram; while the six aspects of Shen, Qi, innate nature, emotions, form, and physical body parallel the six directions of the Kun trigram. As the Yijing states: "Taking distant models from all things and near models from oneself"—this precisely expresses the principle.

Someone asked: "The 'Xici' commentary of the Yi Jing states that hexagrams are formed by six lines, yet you say that six lines form the Kun (Earth) hexagram. Why is this?" The response: You haven't yet understood the principle. The notion of six lines forming a hexagram refers to King Wen of Zhou's method of doubling the eight trigrams to form the sixty-four hexagrams. But before King Wen doubled the trigrams, didn't the concepts of the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity) and the six directions already exist?

The ancient sages said: The Dao of Heaven is composed of Yin and Yang (this is Heaven's Qian and Kun), the Dao of Earth is composed of softness and hardness (Earth's Qian and Kun), and the Dao of Humanity is composed of benevolence and righteousness (Humanity's Qian and Kun). Thus, the Qian and Kun hexagrams themselves contain the complete meaning of the Three Powers and six directions—why must we wait until after doubling the trigrams to speak of them? The so-called "six lines forming a hexagram" is a concept that only emerged after doubling the trigrams; this is called the Later Heaven arrangement.

Another question: If the Three Powers and six directions were already complete before doubling the trigrams, then when the 'Xici' says "in making implements, the images are honored," does this mean that implements were made first and then the hexagram images were established, or that the hexagram images existed first and then implements were made? The answer: Of course, the hexagram images existed first, and then implements were made.

Further question: The sages after the Three Sovereigns all used doubled trigrams to explain the making of implements. If implements were made according to the hexagram images, then before King Wen doubled the trigrams, did the names of the doubled trigrams already exist? Answer: Not so. The ancient sages said, "We must believe that the principles of the Yi existed before the hexagrams were drawn." Thus, before King Wen doubled the trigrams, the principles of the sixty-four hexagrams were already complete.

Question: If the trigrams were not doubled, where would the sixty-four hexagrams come from? Answer: They arise through hexagram transformation. One trigram can transform into eight trigrams, and eight trigrams can transform into sixty-four. For example, take the Qian trigram (three solid Yang lines). If the top two lines remain as young Yang and the bottom line changes to old Yang, it gives rise to the Xun trigram (Heaven-Wind Gou hexagram). When a Yang line changes to Yin, the Qian trigram becomes the Xun trigram. All other hexagrams transform in this manner.

Final question: Since the sixty-four hexagrams can be obtained without doubling the trigrams, why did King Wen still double them? Answer: Obtaining the sixty-four hexagrams through transformation without doubling is the heart-method transmission of Fu Xi, the orthodox Dao lineage that guides later scholars to enter the gate of sages. King Wen, the Duke of Zhou, and Confucius doubled the trigrams to establish the sixty-four hexagrams in order to set up human relationships and moral principles, teaching people to pursue auspiciousness and avoid misfortune, and to establish the ethical norms of ruler and subject, father and son. Therefore, regarding the study of nature and life (the cultivation path), they neither dared to speak of it lightly nor could bear to conceal it completely. Confucius hinted at it in the 'Xici,' and Zhou Dunyi elucidated it in his 'Explanation of the Taiji Diagram' and 'Penetrating the Book of Changes,' hoping that later generations would contemplate carefully and realize it for themselves, ensuring this knowledge would not be lost.

Someone asked: "How should we understand the Yi Jing's statement that 'the alternation of yin and yang is called the Dao'?" The answer is: Yin and Yang are Qian and Kun (Qian symbolizes Heaven, Kun symbolizes Earth). Qian and Kun originate from Taiji (the cosmic source), and when Taiji divides, it forms the Two Modes (Heaven and Earth). Though we speak of Heaven and Earth, using the terms "Qian and Kun" emphasizes their functions rather than their physical forms.

Another question arose: If Qian represents Yang and Kun represents Yin, why also speak of Heaven and Earth? The reply: Heaven and Earth are Qian and Kun, and Qian and Kun are Yin and Yang. Yin and Yang are fundamentally one in Taiji, and Taiji itself arises from the beginningless and endless "Wuji" (the Limitless). In cosmological terms, we call them Heaven and Earth; in the Yi Jing, they are Qian and Kun; in Daoist terminology, they are Yin and Yang.

From the perspective of the human body: Heaven and Earth correspond to the physical form, Qian and Kun correspond to one's innate nature and emotions, while Yin and Yang correspond to the spirit (Shen) and vital energy (Qi). Symbolically: Heaven resembles a dragon, Earth resembles a tiger; Qian resembles a horse, Kun resembles an ox; Yang resembles the golden crow (the sun), and Yin resembles the jade rabbit (the moon). In alchemical terms: Heaven is the cauldron, Earth is the furnace; Qian is metal, Kun is earth; Yin is mercury, and Yang is lead. Though these expressions differ, they all fundamentally embody the interplay of Yin and Yang.

For Daoist practitioners, refining lead and mercury (symbolizing the two energies of Yin and Yang) to form the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is essentially about unifying body and mind to return to the origin—reintegrating Yin and Yang back into the state of Taiji.

Someone asked: "What does 'Three-Five-One' mean?" The answer: It refers to the Three Primordial Energies (Jing, Qi, Shen) and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). The number of Wood in the East (3) plus the number of Fire in the South (2) makes one five; the number of Water in the North (1) plus the number of Metal in the West (4) makes another five; and the number of Earth in the Center (5) itself is the third five—hence "Three Fives."

In the human body: Nature (3) and Spirit (2) form the first five; Emotions (4) and Essence (1) form the second five; Intention (5) alone is the third five. When these three "fives" unite as one, they return to Taiji; when body, mind, and intention become one, they coalesce into the Sacred Embryo (the inner elixir of Neidan). Master Ziyang (Zhang Boduan, the Northern Song dynasty Neidan master) said: "The phrase 'Three-Five-One' speaks of how the Three Primordial Energies and the Five Phases ultimately return to the primordial single Qi."

Throughout history, truly enlightened individuals who comprehend the Great Dao (the Way) have been exceedingly rare. The eastern number three (representing innate nature) combines with the southern number two (symbolizing primordial spirit) to form five; the northern number one (representing primordial essence) and western number four (denoting emotions) together also constitute five; while the central earth element of Wuji (representing intention) similarly returns to the generative number five. When body, mind, and intention unite (the meeting of three families), they crystallize into the "infant" (a state of unified Jing-essence, Qi-energy, and Shen-spirit). This "infant" actually contains the primordial true Qi (alternatively termed "the Supreme Unity embracing truth"). Through a gestation-like cultivation process (symbolizing prolonged spiritual refinement), one sheds the mortal shell to enter sacred realms. This constitutes the genuine path to attaining the Golden Elixir (Jindan).

Someone inquired: What does the Yi Jing (Book of Changes) mean by "Heaven and Earth establish their positions, while Change (Yi) operates between them"? The answer: With Heaven and Earth assuming their positions, humanity emerges between them—these form the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Man). Though humans and all things continuously generate life, the sages spoke not of "humans and objects" but of "Change," recognizing Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) as the gateways of transformation, requiring alignment with temporal shifts to follow the Dao. Just as alchemical practice uses Qian and Kun as the cauldron (symbolizing cosmic positioning) and Yin-Yang as the mechanism of transformation, so does "Change operate within." The primordial Qi (original energy) gathers boundlessly while the firing process (huohou) circulates endlessly.

Another question: How should we understand "Opening the gate is called Qian, closing it is Kun—this opening and closing constitutes transformation"? The response: Opening and closing represent movement and stillness. Qian as Yang and Kun as Yin function like a gate's operation—this forms the transformative portal of Qian and Kun. Yin and Yang alternately activate and pacify each other, their creative mechanism never ceasing, establishing the seasons through the four virtues (Yuan-Heng-Li-Zhen) to complete the annual cycle. "Transformation" here means perpetual change. The supreme Dao merges with spiritual energy, circulating through the Three Powers and myriad beings, its opening-closing transformations infinite—vast yet subtle.

Using the human body as metaphor: Breathing embodies this opening and closing. Exhalation connects to Heaven's root (primordial Qi) as "opening," while inhalation links to Earth's root (postnatal Qi) as "closing"—the golden elixir (refined vital substance) generates within each breath's transition, constituting "transformation." This respiratory rhythm forms the Mysterious Feminine Gate (Xuannümen, a crucial alchemical aperture), the root of Heaven and Earth. Note this breathing refers not to nasal respiration but to the opening-closing of true respiration (primordial breath).

A further question: What signifies "The Dao of Qian forms the male, the Dao of Kun forms the female"? The explanation: Qian symbolizes the father, Kun the mother. When Qian's bottom Yang line interacts with Kun's... (original text incomplete, referring to the generative principle of Yin-Yang union producing all existence)

This passage primarily discusses two aspects: first, an explanation of human reproduction through the lens of the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) from the Yijing (Book of Changes), and second, an exploration of the relationship between Jing-Qi (essence-energy) and life in Daoist cultivation.

Regarding the connection between the trigrams and reproduction: The interaction between the Qian trigram (representing Heaven, Yang) and Kun trigram (representing Earth, Yin) produces three sons and three daughters. Specifically, when the bottom line of Qian interacts with Kun, it produces Zhen (eldest son); when Kun's bottom line interacts with Qian, it produces Xun (eldest daughter). The middle lines' interaction yields Kan (middle son) and Li (middle daughter), while the top lines' interaction generates Gen (youngest son) and Dui (youngest daughter). This explains the origin of the six offspring trigrams.

From the perspective of human formation, during conception in the womb, the embryo receives the refined essences from both parents (in Daoist terminology called "Tianren Dixue," equivalent to prenatal Jing-Qi) to form the body. If the Yang essence "Tianren" arrives first and envelops the Yin blood "Dixue," a male is formed; the reverse produces a female. Simultaneous arrival results in twins, while disharmonious timing prevents conception altogether. This illustrates the principle that "the Dao of Qian forms males, the Dao of Kun forms females."

Terms like "Tianren Dixue," "Kanwu Liji," and "Qian-Hou" (lead-mercury) are all Neidan (internal alchemy) terminology representing the dual Yin-Yang life energies within the human body. When these energies are expended outwardly, they produce offspring; when cultivated inwardly, they form the internal elixir. Many fail to recognize that a child's gender is predetermined by celestial mandate. Excessive indulgence that depletes Jing-Qi leads to premature aging and early death, while children conceived through restrained desire tend to be healthier and longer-lived.

The second part discusses the metaphysical Dao (Way) and physical Qi (vessel). The Dao represents formless nature (symbolized by mercury), while Qi manifests as tangible function (symbolized by lead), yet fundamentally both operate within the framework of body and mind. Sages purify their hearts by contemplating the principles of the Yijing, attaining supreme sincerity. The Yijing's teachings are simultaneously vast and subtle—through embodying these principles, sages cleanse mental impurities to achieve ultimate clarity and sincerity.

This dialogue from The Book of Central Harmony explores the essence of cultivating the mind and nature. Regarding the question of "holding to the center (执中)," the response explains: "Holding" means unwavering determination, while "the center" refers to the most harmonious state. The Dao mind (the innate, authentic nature) is subtle and difficult to perceive, while the human mind (postnatal thoughts and emotions) is prone to agitation and instability. Even enlightened masters experience fluctuations of the human mind, and the dullest individuals still possess traces of the Dao mind. If one can maintain upright thoughts aligned with the center, they may experience that subtle state; but if the mind deviates even slightly, it falls into peril and unrest. Practitioners of immortality must single-mindedly abide in this central harmony, naturally calming the restless mind and allowing the subtle Dao mind to manifest. The "mysterious pass (玄关)" mentioned in alchemical practice—the crucial point of cultivation—follows the same principle.

On the question of "the workings of heaven are soundless and scentless (上天之载无声无臭)," the explanation is: Though the Dao of heaven is formless and intangible, its existence is undeniably real, just as the Daoist scriptures describe the "vast and profoundly mysterious (大量玄玄)"—the deepest embodiment of truth.

Regarding the state of sages, it is said: Sages are born with an innate understanding of the heavenly Dao, spontaneously aligning with cosmic principles without deliberate effort, naturally embodying the center. This is what The Doctrine of the Mean calls "enlightenment through sincerity (诚而明)." Those with profound innate capacity (根器) may directly awaken to the nature of mind and thus comprehend the truth of life; those with shallow capacity must begin with concrete practices, first regulating the body (resolving life, 了命) before realizing the nature of mind (resolving nature, 了性).

Finally, Confucius and Yan Hui are cited as examples: Confucius found joy in understanding the Mandate of Heaven, enabling him to remain content in poverty, playing the qin in adversity, and through the "Return Hexagram" (复卦) of the I Ching, apprehending the original mind of heaven and earth—this reveals the profundity of the Golden Elixir (金丹) path. Yan Hui grasped Confucius' teaching of "joyfully accepting heaven's decree," allowing him to endure a life of simple meals and humble drink, attaining the state of "fasting of the mind and sitting in forgetfulness (心斋坐忘)"—a manifestation of the Golden Elixir's true essence.

This dialogue emphasizes that cultivation lies in holding to the center and harmonizing with nature. Though practitioners of different capacities may follow varying paths, all ultimately return to the unity of heaven and humanity.

Zengzi (a disciple of Confucius) wore tattered clothes yet his fame spread throughout the world—even the Son of Heaven couldn't make him a subject, and feudal lords couldn't befriend him. Why was this? Because Zengzi had grasped the profound mystery of "single-minded focus" (the state of concentrated unity), reaching a realm where even his senses of mouth and ears were forgotten. Cultivating oneself in this way to regulate the family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world allows one to master the principle of "one thread running through all."

Someone asked: When Zilu inquired about death, Confucius replied, "Not yet understanding life, how can one understand death?" What does this mean? Life and death are like the natural alternation of day and night—knowing the day naturally leads to understanding the night. The Book of Changes states that by tracing back to the origin, one can comprehend the principle of life and death. The alchemical classics (Daoist texts on inner cultivation) say the state before parents conceived us is the foundation for refining the elixir. Buddhists ask: Where does our original nature reside when this body did not yet exist? From these perspectives, the essence of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all lies in tracing back to the source—then one naturally understands the destination. Just as following a river leads to its headwaters, if a person thoroughly investigates the origin of their own life, the principle of life and death becomes clear. Have you seen the Taiji diagram? What existed before the Supreme Ultimate divided? If one can penetrate this point, they can deduce the end by understanding the beginning.

Someone asked: Before the Supreme Ultimate divided, its shape resembled an egg—but what existed outside the egg? That was the Great Void (the primordial emptiness at the universe's inception). When a human embryo first forms in the womb, its undifferentiated form also resembles an egg. After birth, when nature and life are established, everything beyond the body belongs to the Great Void. Another question: Does the fetus in the womb possess original nature? The womb's impurity makes it difficult for spiritual nature to reside there. Further question: When the fetus moves at five or seven months, is this the manifestation of original nature? No—it's merely the movement of Qi. The fetus follows the mother's breath in the womb; only after birth are nature and life established, forming its own heaven and earth. Just as a severed snake's front half can still crawl while the rear half twitches, or a cooked crab's detached leg continues to jerk—these are all effects of Qi, not manifestations of original nature.

Someone asked about the meaning of "My Way is threaded by one thing." The sage spoke of the heavenly principle within the human body that connects heaven, earth, and humanity—encompassing the three teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, Daoism) and all phenomena. The Buddhist teaching of "no perception of self, others, living beings, or lifespan" and the Daoist saying "understand one and all things are complete" both express this principle of "one thread."

Someone asked about the meaning of the Zen anecdote where the Buddha held up a flower before the assembly—only Mahakashyapa smiled, and the Buddha said, "I possess the treasury of the true Dharma eye, the wondrous Nirvana..."

This scripture primarily discusses the fundamental similarities in the cultivation essence and ultimate realization among Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism.

The典故 of "holding up a flower and smiling" refers to the moment when the Buddha held up a flower before the assembly, and only Mahakasyapa grasped its profound meaning and smiled. Thus, the Buddha transmitted the mind dharma to him. This reveals that true transmission lies not in external forms but in the awakening of the heart-mind.

When Bodhidharma came from the West to transmit the Dharma, he advocated "not establishing words and letters, directly pointing to the human mind." This means that by letting go of attachments to external things and returning to the original mind, one naturally attains enlightenment and realizes one's true nature. Genuine enlightenment does not rely on the transmission of words or language.

Someone might ask: Aren’t the Confucian Book of Changes (Yijing), the Buddhist Prajnaparamita Sutra, and the Daoist Lingbao Scriptures all composed of words? The response clarifies that these scriptures are all means by which sages use tangible words to reveal the intangible true Dao. The texts of the three teachings serve as tools on the path of cultivation, but at the highest level of realization, not a single word is needed. It is like abandoning the raft after crossing the river—true awakening must be sought beyond language.

Regarding the stages of cultivation, the text explains that Buddhism’s "nirvana" and Daoism’s "casting off the mortal body (tuotai)" are essentially the same, both referring to liberation from the ordinary physical form. The Daoist alchemical process—from refining essence (jing) into qi, refining qi into spirit (shen), and finally returning spirit to emptiness—perfectly aligns with the Buddhist principle of "returning to emptiness." Beyond casting off the mortal body lies an even higher state: only by attaining "the shattering of emptiness" can one fully manifest the true nature, ultimately merging with the void itself.

Finally, the text emphasizes the fundamental unity of the three teachings: Buddhism speaks of "true emptiness (zhenkong)," Confucianism speaks of "non-action (wuwei)," and Daoism speaks of "naturalness (ziran)." All point to returning to the origin and merging with the supreme void. However, becoming attached to words and concepts only leads one astray from the truth. Genuine cultivation requires transcending superficial differences to realize the inherent oneness within.

This dialogue records Zhao Ding'an seeking instruction from his master on the supreme truth of Daoist cultivation. The master first points out that the "Supreme and Utmost True Dao" transmitted through generations of patriarchs is the ultimate truth beyond all forms—provisionally called the "Dao." Since ancient times, all who attained immortality did so by cultivating and realizing this path.

Zhao wonders why this supreme truth is compared to the "Golden Elixir" (Jindan). The master explains: "Gold" symbolizes indestructible permanence (just as true nature never perishes), while "Elixir" represents perfect wholeness (like the completeness of the Supreme Ultimate [Taiji]). Buddhism calls this "perfect enlightenment," Confucianism names it the "Supreme Ultimate," but all point to the same primordial spiritual nature. This fundamental true nature remains unbroken through kalpas of time, growing ever brighter through cultivation.

Quoting the Book of Changes—"In the Yi there is the Supreme Ultimate, which generates the Two Modes"—the master clarifies: The Supreme Ultimate represents the original state of emptiness and spontaneity (equivalent to the original spirit [Yuanshen]), while the Two Modes signify the differentiation of Yin-Yang (manifested in humans as body and mind). In alchemical terminology, the Supreme Ultimate is the root of elixir refinement (the "Mother of the Elixir"), while the Two Modes correspond to true lead and true mercury (not literal substances, but the original spirit and original Qi within the human body). When body and mind are tranquil and vital essence [Jing] and Qi congeal, what forms is called the "Elixir"—which is ultimately the complete manifestation of the practitioner's inherent nature.

This dialogue reveals the core philosophy of Daoist internal alchemy (Neidan): through harmonizing the Yin-Yang of body and mind, one returns to the primordial original state. The so-called elixir refinement is essentially the process whereby practitioners, through specific methods, congeal their essence, Qi, and spirit [Jing-Qi-Shen], ultimately achieving unity with the Dao.

This scripture elucidates the essential principles of cultivating Neidan (internal alchemy), the core practice of Daoist cultivation. It clarifies that the authentic Golden Elixir (Jindan) is not forged through external substances but attained through refining one's innate heart-mind nature. Regrettably, many practitioners today have strayed from the true path: some smelt the "five metals and eight minerals" (mineral-based medicines), others refine the external Qi (vital energy) of clouds, mist, sun, and moon, some visualize objects within their Dantian (energy centers), while still others focus on minor techniques like Daoyin (guided stretching), breathing exercises, breath retention, or guarding acupoints. Though these methods appear diverse, they all represent misguided efforts that abandon the root for the branches.

The author emphasizes that authentic alchemical practice is supremely simple and effortless. The crux lies in "seizing the creative transformations of Heaven and Earth" — using the body as the cauldron (the vessel for refinement), employing the sun and moon's movements as metaphors for harmonizing water and fire, following the principles of Yin-Yang transformation, and cultivating in accordance with celestial cycles. Practitioners must precisely observe: the timing for "gathering the medicinal ingredients" (collecting the body's primordial Qi), the rules governing "firing process regulation" (energy modulation), advancing and retreating with the orderly progression of seasons, and adjusting Yin-Yang like the waxing and waning moon phases. Ultimately, this causes the Five Phases' energies to coalesce, the dual forces of Yin and Yang to return to the central channel (the Yellow Path), and the three primordial energies of Jing (essence), Qi, and Shen (spirit) to unify, completing the metamorphosis of returning to the primordial origin.

The master-disciple dialogue ultimately reveals that this seemingly "heaven-defying" cultivation actually achieves life's sublimation through alignment with natural laws, not through forceful manipulation of external powers. The true challenge lies not in the complexity of methods, but in obtaining genuine transmission and persisting in orthodox practice.

The Zhonghe Ji (Book of Central Harmony) scripture elucidates the core principles of Neidan (internal alchemy), a Daoist cultivation practice. The author employs cosmic metaphors to illustrate the human body, emphasizing that the essence of cultivation lies in mastering the interplay of "body and mind."

The text begins by drawing parallels between natural phenomena and human physiology: Heaven and Earth resemble the physical form, water and fire symbolize Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy), Yin-Yang corresponds to body and mind, while the sun and moon represent human temperament. In cultivation, the physical form serves as the alchemical cauldron, essence and energy act as water and fire, emotional transformations become the catalyst for refinement, and body-mind duality constitutes the raw materials of alchemy.

Sages, concerned that later generations might misunderstand cultivation essentials, used cosmic metaphors to describe the human body. In truth, the human microcosm operates in perfect resonance with Heaven and Earth's macrocosmic patterns. The scripture references specialized Daoist terms—celestial Hun and earthly Po, Qian's steed and Kun's ox, Yang's lead and Yin's mercury—all ultimately pointing to the fundamental duality of "body and mind."

The movement of the Celestial Stem (Big Dipper) manifests Tianxin (the cosmic mind). Alchemical texts state that when the human mind aligns with this cosmic mind, temporary reversal of Yin-Yang becomes possible. Viewed from the mind, the Dao is mind; viewed from the Dao, mind is Dao. The pivot of the Dipper's rotation reveals the "Mysterious Pass" (Xuanguan), the crucial aperture in cultivation.

Contemporary practitioners often fixate on specific bodily locations—some claim it's between the eyebrows, others the navel, the space between kidneys, the Dantian (energy center), or the Nine Palaces (cranial acupoints). All such notions miss the mark. The Mysterious Pass neither resides in physical anatomy nor can be sought externally. Alchemical texts deliberately avoid precise description because this ineffable threshold defies verbal expression—hence its designation as "mysterious."

The sages ultimately point to this aperture through the single character "Zhong" (Central Harmony). This centrality denotes neither spatial orientation nor anatomical midpoint. Buddhists call it the "original face" prior to distinctions of good and evil; Confucians identify it as the state before emotions arise; Daoists describe it as the stillpoint before thought emerges—this is the tripartite tradition's shared understanding of "Zhong." The Yijing (Book of Changes) describes this state as "utter stillness without movement."

The Zhonghe Ji (Book of Central Harmony) passage discusses the crucial point of apprehending the "mysterious pass single aperture" (Xuanguan Yiqiao) in Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Practitioners must pay special attention to the instant when mental activity arises (Xuanguan) — this is the pivotal moment of Yin-Yang transformation. Like the Fu hexagram (one of the sixty-four hexagrams) generating a single Yang line at its base, movement emerges from the extreme of stillness. This transitional node between stillness and movement constitutes the vital point of cultivation.

The true "medicinal substances" (the essential Jing, Qi, and Shen required for practice) are not found in specific solar terms or hours, but rather in one's intrinsic "true lead and true mercury" (Neidan terminology denoting the Yin-Yang manifestations of vital energies). Patriarchs teach that elixir refinement need not rigidly await the winter solstice — when Yang energy spontaneously arises within the body (the "single Yang emerging at Gui"), this becomes the optimal moment for gathering medicinal substances. However, practitioners must skillfully regulate the firing process (huohou), just as with lunar phases: during the full moon (peak Yang), harvesting becomes unfavorable.

The text employs the twelve monthly hexagrams (reflecting the waxing and waning of Yin-Yang) to illustrate the rhythm of advancing and withdrawing the fire: from the Fu hexagram (single Yang birth at winter solstice) to the Gou hexagram (single Yin birth at summer solstice), demonstrating the cyclical interplay of these forces. Yet adepts should not mechanically practice according to solar terms — blindly applying fire at winter solstice or withdrawing symbols at summer solstice. Recognizing practitioners' tendency to cling to external appearances, sages use lunar phases as metaphors: new and full moons correspond to solstices, while crescent moons represent equinoxes, thus compressing a year's Yin-Yang transformations into a single month's observation. The essence lies in perceiving the internal dynamics of Yin-Yang fluctuations, remaining unbound by external temporal constraints.

This passage discusses the correspondence between temporal cycles and Yin-Yang transformations in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, along with specific cultivation methods.

It first addresses a common misconception: some practitioners mistakenly compress lunar phases into a single day (using the midnight/noon hours for new/full moons and sunrise/sunset for waxing/waning crescents), or equate two and a half days to a month and thirty days to a year. Authentic modern masters clarify that a single quarter-hour of practice can encompass the seasonal transitions of an entire year. Before our parents conceived us, concepts like years, months, and hours didn't exist—these temporal frameworks were merely pedagogical devices used by sages to guide beginners, though many become attached to their surface meanings.

The text then reveals essential practice points: When kidney water (Gui water) arises within the body, this signals the initial emergence of Yang energy (first Yang). As Yang ascends and Yin descends, this becomes third Yang. When Yin and Yang clearly separate like the waxing moon on the eighth day (fourth Yang), the sunrise hour (Mao) becomes ideal for bathing practices (breath regulation). The harmonious blending of Yin-Yang and the fusion of Shen (spirit) with Qi constitutes sixth Yang. However, practitioners must recognize the turning point—just as the full moon (Wang) begins to wane, they should initiate "fire withdrawal" (retreating the talisman), progressing from first Yin through third Yin to sixth Yin. The entire cycle mirrors the waning moon in autumn (You hour), where extreme Yin gives birth to Yang—a complete celestial orbit accomplished in mere moments.

Through persistent practice, practitioners gradually form the formless "sacred embryo," marking successful elixir refinement. When disciple Ding'an inquired about these technical terms, the master explained: All metaphorical names ultimately point to body and mind. In actual practice, one must: let ears ignore external sounds, eyes refrain from inward gazing, press the tongue against the palate, regulate breathing, keep limbs still, and return the five spiritual aspects (spirit, soul, ethereal soul, corporeal soul, and intention) to their rightful places (five energies returning to the origin), gathering them in the middle Dantian (assembling the Five Phases). A tranquil mind is called "dragon's hum," a still body "tiger's roar"—when both quieten, this constitutes "subduing dragon and taming tiger." The dragon's hum consolidates Qi, while the tiger's roar consolidates Jing (essence). Using turtle and snake to symbolize essence and Qi, dragon and tiger to represent mind and body—when these four symbols (turtle, snake, dragon, tiger) merge into unity, it achieves the cultivation state where innate nature and acquired emotions harmonize (metal and wood combine), with primordial nature governing postnatal desires.

This scripture elucidates the essential principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. The crux of cultivation lies in harmonizing the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) energies of "water, fire, metal, wood, and earth" within body and mind. Here water and metal share the same origin, wood and fire share another, while earth occupies the central position mediating their interactions. Practitioners must unify the three elements of body, heart-mind, and intention, a process termed "the meeting of three families to form the infant."

The cultivation process unfolds in three stages: refining Jing (essence) into Qi (vital energy), transforming Qi into Shen (spirit), and returning Shen to emptiness—also called "the three blossoms gathering at the cauldron." The true three barriers don't refer to physical locations like the coccyx, spine, or jade pillow, but rather to the practitioner's state of consciousness during cultivation. One must maintain inner clarity, preventing external distractions from entering while retaining internal primordial Qi—this is called "solid containment."

The scripture employs metaphors to explain key cultivation concepts: one's innate nature resembles mercury within cinnabar, while the body's primordial Qi is like gold within water. Gold (metal) is fundamentally water's source yet remains concealed within it, much like a mother hidden within her fetus. Practitioners must maintain a state of empty stillness and naturalness, fortifying their willpower to subdue distracting thoughts.

At advanced stages, the Yang Shen (spiritual consciousness) separates from the physical form in a process called "shedding the mortal embryo." The ultimate achievement is union with the Dao and return to the source, termed "transcendence." Though the Golden Elixir has no form or appearance, practitioners can perceive its presence—the term "golden elixir" merely symbolizes this ineffable state.

The entire passage emphasizes that cultivation's essence lies in harmonizing body and mind through empty stillness and naturalness, ultimately attaining unity with the Dao.

This passage explores the profound realm of "seeing and not-seeing" in Daoist cultivation. The forms visible to our eyes do not constitute true "seeing"; genuine perception must be apprehended within the invisible. As the Daoist scriptures state: "Look at it—it cannot be seen; listen to it—it cannot be heard"—this is the very nature of the Dao. What seems invisible actually sees all; what seems inaudible actually hears everything. This kind of perception doesn't rely on the senses of eyes and ears, but rather on heart-based awareness and mental comprehension.

Consider how a great wind moves through mountains, shaking trees and churning waves in water. Though the wind itself remains unseen, none would claim it doesn't exist; though we cannot grasp it in our hands, none would deny its presence. The same principle applies to refining the Golden Elixir (the core practice of Neidan/internal alchemy). In the initial stages of cultivation, one must understand the interplay of "being" and "non-being," the coordination of movement and stillness. Only when practice matures—when all external conditions are released, when all methods dissolve into emptiness, when both movement and stillness are forgotten, when being and non-being are simultaneously transcended—can the Mysterious Pearl (symbol of internal elixir) coalesce and the Supreme Unity (Taiji, cosmic origin) return to its fundamental truth. Through such dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming Shuangxiu), where form and spirit both attain perfection, one transcends the physical realm to wander freely among clouds, achieving the state of Golden Immortal (highest spiritual attainment).

Classical alchemical texts employ various terms to guide practitioners from rudimentary to subtle understanding through gradual progression. Yet the true key to enlightenment doesn't reside in words—just as a boat becomes unnecessary after crossing the river. The ancients spoke of "forgetting the snare after catching the rabbit" and "discarding the trap after catching the fish"—this is precisely their meaning. These words I share now shouldn't be clung to literally; their true meaning must be carefully contemplated. If a single phrase suddenly illuminates your understanding, directly ushering you into the state of Wuwei (non-action), then the path becomes effortless. Still deeper mysteries cannot be plainly stated—they must be apprehended beyond language.

Regarding Golden Elixir cultivation, I've observed how later commentators on alchemical classics became divided: some obsessed over physical cultivation, others rigidly clung to textual interpretations, some mistook purity for barren stillness, while others took mercury and lead (Neidan terms symbolizing Yin-Yang) as literal substances. These divergent views have only deepened later generations' confusion. In truth, the supreme Dao is fundamentally unified—how could there be any divisions? Recent alchemical texts often compile heterodox methods—using numerical calculations for the "seven returns and nine restorations" (Neidan orbital cycles) or forcing correlations with temporal directions (such as Yin-Zi, Kun-Shen)—isn't this utterly absurd? I've now distilled the essence of alchemical texts into thirty-six questions and answers to resolve doubts for future seekers. Those with wisdom will naturally discern their true meaning.

Someone asked about the meaning of "Nine Returns." Here, "nine" represents the complete numerical correspondence of the Metal element (in ancient Five Phases theory, the number nine corresponds to Metal), and "return" signifies reverting to the original source. This refers to the process of using one's innate nature to govern acquired emotions and desires. Emotions and desires belong to Metal in the Five Phases system—when they return to their original nature, it is called "Nine Returns." The Neidan scriptures speak of "the Metal nature returning to its primordial state," which precisely conveys this principle. Those who interpret "Nine Returns" through calculations based on the hours from Zi to Shen are mistaken.

Another asked about "Seven Reversions." "Seven" is the complete numerical correspondence of the Fire element, and "reversion" means returning to the source. This describes the process of refining the spirit (Shen) to return it to the realm of emptiness. Since the spirit corresponds to Fire in the Five Phases, refining the spirit and reverting to emptiness is called "Seven Reversions." Interpreting it through the hours from Yin to Shen is equally incorrect. The Wuzhen Pian (Awakening to Reality) warns against relying on temporal calculations—the key lies in correctly applying the Five Phases' cycles of generation and restraint.

Regarding the "Three Passes": These represent three critical stages in cultivation. The first pass transforms essence (Jing) into Qi (initial pass), the second refines Qi into spirit (middle pass), and the third returns the spirit to emptiness (upper pass). Some identify the three acupoints—Weilü, Jiaji, and Yuzhen—as the Three Passes, but these are merely methods, not the essential meaning. True transcendence depends on mastering these three stages, which have no fixed locations and require oral transmission.

On the "Mysterious Pass" (Xuanguan): This is the most profound pivot, originally without a fixed position. Some now mistakenly locate it at the navel, crown of the head, brow center, between the kidneys, or the space before the kidneys and behind the navel—all deviations. The scriptures state that this aperture lies in no direction, neither inside nor outside the body, nor at its center; it transcends form.

Concerning the "Three Palaces": These are the abodes of the Three Treasures—Jing, Qi, and Shen. The primordial spirit resides in the Qian Palace (head), the primordial Qi in the Central Palace (heart region), and the primordial essence in the Kun Palace (abdomen). Those who equate them with the upper, middle, and lower Dantian are incorrect.

On the "Three Essentials": These refer to the aperture for returning to the root, the pivotal pass for restoring innate vitality, and the valley of emptiness. Mistaking the mouth and nose for the Three Essentials is erroneous.

Regarding the "Mysterious Feminine" (Xuanpin): This denotes the indestructible abode of the spirit. Master Ziyang (Zhang Boduan) taught that the place where thoughts arise is the Mysterious Feminine—a correct teaching. The origin of thoughts is the root of life and death, naturally aligning with the Mysterious Feminine. Yet this remains a method; the highest realization requires oral instruction.

Someone asked what the "true seed" (the fundamental basis of cultivation) is. The answer is that the spark of luminous awareness (innate spiritual nature) before the division of heaven and earth is the true seed. Some say humans are born from a single breath of Qi (vital energy), thus taking Qi as the true seed; others claim it is thought that gives rise to this body, thus taking thought as the true seed; still others argue that it is the essence of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) that forms this body, thus taking Jing (essence) as the true seed. These three views may seem reasonable but are actually incorrect. As the Buddhist scripture says, "The root of birth and death through countless eons—fools call it the original truth." This precisely refers to this principle.

Someone asked what the "cauldron and furnace" (the vessels for alchemical refinement) are. The answer is that body and mind are the cauldron and furnace. The alchemical scriptures say one must first take Qian (heaven) and Kun (earth) as the cauldron, then refine the essences of the sun (crow) and moon (hare). Qian represents the mind, Kun represents the body. Those who set up external furnaces and cauldrons are mistaken.

Regarding the "medicinal ingredients" (materials for alchemy), true lead and true mercury are the ingredients—they are actually the two innate elements within the human body. The difference between internal and external medicine lies in this: the generative essence transformed through refining Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)—such as the reactive essence, breath energy, and thinking spirit—all belong to external medicine. Only the primordial supreme essence, the air of emptiness, and the indestructible original spirit, which are innate, constitute internal medicine. The alchemical scriptures speak of "two kinds of inner and outer workings," referring precisely to this.

What does "tapping bamboo to summon the turtle and swallow the jade mushroom" mean? Tapping bamboo refers to regulating the breath; summoning the turtle refers to consolidating essence. Through refining essence into Qi and using Qi to gather essence, the two merge to form the jade mushroom (the inner elixir), which when harvested and ingested can prolong life and preserve vitality. "Strumming the zither to beckon the phoenix and drink the knife-shaped pellet" means that strumming the zither represents emptying the mind, while beckoning the phoenix represents nourishing the spirit. Emptying the mind and nourishing the spirit clarify consciousness, allowing the two earth-natured elements (spleen and intention) to condense into the pellet (elixir). Harvesting and drinking it brings the original nature to perfect clarity.

"Five Qi returning to the origin" refers to: when the body is still, essence is consolidated, and the Qi of kidney water returns to the origin; when thoughts are still, Qi is consolidated, and the Qi of heart fire returns to the origin; when the original nature is tranquil, the ethereal soul is stored, and the Qi of liver wood returns to the origin; when desires are forgotten, the corporeal soul is subdued, and the Qi of lung metal returns to the origin; when the four elements (earth, water, fire, wind) are harmonized, intention is stabilized, and the Qi of spleen earth returns to the origin.

What is the "Yellow Matron"? Yellow represents the color of the center, and "matron" is a term for mother. All things are born from earth; earth is the mother of all things, hence the name Yellow Matron. In the human body, it refers to the intention of the fetal origin. Some say the spleen spirit is the Yellow Matron, but this is incorrect.

Someone asked about the meaning of "Golden Lord" (Jingong). From a cosmological perspective, when the Yang energy of the Qian (Heaven) trigram enters the Kun (Earth) trigram, it forms the Kan (Water) trigram. Since metal (Jin) is the source of water, it's called the Golden Lord. In alchemical symbolism, the character for "gold" (金) combined with "lord" (公) refers to lead (a key alchemical substance).

Someone inquired why the Kan trigram, representing Great Yin, is also symbolized as an infant. Although Kan's fundamental nature derives from Kun (pure Yin) and is thus called Great Yin, it incorporates Yang energy from Qian to form the Kan trigram with Lesser Yang characteristics. This Yin-containing-Yang state is likened to an infant.

Another asked why the Li (Fire) trigram, representing Great Yang, is compared to a maiden (Chanü). While Li's essence stems from Qian (pure Yang) and is termed Great Yang, it absorbs Yin energy from Kun to manifest as the Li trigram with Lesser Yin qualities. This Yang-containing-Yin condition is symbolized by a maiden.

"What is True Gold (Zhenjin)?" someone questioned. Here, gold signifies the original spirit (Yuanshen, primordial consciousness) – indestructible through kalpas, growing ever brighter through cultivation, hence called True Gold.

Regarding "mother-child" relationships: this describes metal concealed within water. Metal (mother) as water's source dwells within water (child), like a mother hidden in her fetus. Similarly, the spirit is the body's foundation – Shen dwelling within the body mirrors this maternal concealment.

On "guest-host" dynamics: Original nature (Xing) is the body's true master, while the physical form is but temporary lodging. Cultivation uses the body to refine nature – though the body appears dominant outwardly, essence remains sovereign. As alchemical texts state: "Let it be host while I remain guest."

"What is Primordial Qi (Xiantian Yiqi)?" Before heaven and earth separated, only a spark of spiritual existence remained. That true Yang spark within humans is Primordial Qi – so named because it precedes cosmic formation.

The meaning of "water-fire" varies by context: astronomy sees them as sun-moon; the Yijing as Kan-Li; Chan Buddhism as concentration-wisdom; sages as illumination-moisture; medicine as heart-kidneys; alchemy as Jing-Qi. In truth, all upper-body heat belongs to fire, all lower-body moisture to water – these names are metaphors requiring personal cultivation insights.

"Water within fire" refers to the ancient teaching that divine water (subtle essence) originates from above. Logically, water cannot flow autonomously – it requires fire's heat to ascend and nourish. Symbolically, when fire peaks at noon (Wu hour), water simultaneously receives energy, revealing fire's watery aspect. In the body, this denotes liquid essence carried within Qi.

Someone asked: Why is there fire within water? In terms of cosmic principles, the sun rises from the sea. From the perspective of cultivation symbolism, water reaches its peak during the Zi hour (11 PM to 1 AM), while fire begins to gestate at the same time. Using the human body as metaphor, this represents the Qi (vital energy) contained within Jing (essence).

Someone asked: What is "Jiji" (the ideal state of water-fire harmony)? The answer: When water ascends and fire descends, that is Jiji. The Book of Changes states: "A lake beneath a mountain forms the Sun hexagram; the noble person should restrain anger and suppress desires." This is the method to achieve Jiji—restraining anger makes fire descend, while suppressing desires enables water to rise.

Someone asked: What is "Weiji" (the chaotic state of water-fire separation)? The answer: Failure to restrain anger causes fiery energy to surge upward; inability to suppress desires makes watery nature flow downward. When nameless fury burns and the sea of suffering churns, with water and fire failing to unite, this is Weiji.

Someone asked: What is "metal and wood merging"? The answer: When emotion (metal) returns to innate nature (wood), this is called harmonious merging. Emotion belongs to metal, innate nature to wood.

Someone asked: What is "separation"? The answer: When emotion is pulled by external objects and innate nature drifts with scattered thoughts, causing them to diverge, this is called separation.

Someone asked: What is "clarity and turbidity"? The answer: When the mind is still, water returns to its source and becomes clear; when the mind stirs, water follows the waves and turns turbid.

Someone asked: What is "two eights"? The answer: This refers to the measure of one jin (traditionally sixteen liang). Half a jin of lead and eight liang of mercury—not literal weights, but a metaphor for balancing two substances. As alchemical texts say: "Between the first and last lunar crescents, the medicinal ingredients are balanced and the firing process complete," illustrating Yin-Yang equilibrium. It resembles the equal day-night duration during the second and eighth lunar months.

Someone asked: What is "purification bathing"? The answer: Cleansing the mind of scattered thoughts is called purification bathing.

Someone asked: What is "elixir completion"? The answer: When body and mind unite, Shen (spirit) and Qi merge, and emotion harmonizes with innate nature—this is elixir completion. Like forming a sacred embryo, as immortal masters describe: "When water meets true nature, it becomes the Golden Elixir; the four provisional elements forge it into a sphere in the furnace."

Someone asked: What is "nurturing the fire"? The answer: Severing scattered thoughts is nurturing the fire.

Someone asked: What is "casting off the mortal frame"? The answer: Cultivating a body beyond physical form is casting off the mortal frame.

Someone asked: What is "ultimate realization"? The answer: Merging with cosmic emptiness is ultimate realization. This transcendent, ineffable state surpasses material description and must be personally realized through practice.

Final emphasis: The essence of Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) practice is preserving original authenticity. Only by wholly preserving Jing, Qi, and Shen can one be called "Complete Perfection"—any deficiency renders it incomplete, any impurity makes it impure. This is the core cultivation method transmitted by Quanzhen masters to their disciples.

Preserving the primordial Jing (essence, the innate life energy) nourishes the body. To preserve Jing, one must first stabilize the physical form. When the body is stable, desires do not arise, and thus Jing remains intact.

Preserving primordial Qi (vital energy, the driving force of life) nurtures the Shen (spirit). To preserve Qi, one must first purify the heart-mind. When the heart-mind is pure, scattered thoughts cease, and thus Qi remains whole.

Preserving primordial Shen (the innate spiritual nature) allows return to the source of emptiness. To preserve Shen, one must first cultivate sincerity of intention. Sincere intention unifies body and mind, enabling return to the state of formless void.

Thus, Jing, Qi, and Shen are the three essential elements of cultivation, while body, heart-mind, and intention are its three key aspects. The method of attaining immortality is fundamentally simple: refine these three treasures into the Golden Elixir (Neidan) by gathering them in the central palace (Dantian). Is this principle truly difficult to understand? Those who claim it is obscure or arduous have been misled by false teachings.

The crucial point in refining Jing lies in the body. When the body is unmoving—like a roaring tiger generating wind or a mystic turtle submerged in deep waters—Jing naturally consolidates. The key to refining Qi rests in the heart-mind. When the heart-mind is still—like a divine dragon chanting amidst clouds or a vermilion bird folding its wings—Qi naturally stabilizes. The secret to refining Shen depends on intention. When intention is unwavering, the two energies of Yin and Yang merge, the three primordial forces unite, and the sacred embryo (Golden Elixir) takes form.

All theories of cultivation—whether concerning the crucible (body), medicinal ingredients (Jing-Qi-Shen), the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), or the Five Phases—ultimately revolve around these three words: body, heart-mind, and intention. The highest attainment in practice never transcends these two characters: "body" and "mind." Yet note—this "body-mind" does not refer to the physical flesh or ordinary consciousness, but to the formless primordial body-mind—an ethereal presence like clouds encircling mountain peaks or moonlight reflected on water. This "body" is the indestructible pure dharma-body, the wondrous existence within emptiness; this "mind" is the innate luminous true mind, the absolute void within substantiality. Just as the trigram Kan (Water) contains true Yang, the trigram Li (Fire) harbors true Yin.

The patriarchs taught: "Extract the Yang line from Kan to transform the Yin line in Li, thereby achieving a body of pure Yang." Thus all profound mysteries of cultivation hinge upon the heart-mind. Therefore, these two words—"body" and "mind"—are the ultimate secret of practice. What doubt can remain?

The essence of alchemy ultimately reduces to two words: "nature" and "life." Any path diverging from their dual cultivation is heterodox. Cultivating nature (spiritual essence) without life (vital force), or vice versa, remains incomplete. As the patriarchs declared: "Shen is nature, Qi is life"—this encapsulates the truth.

Cultivating Qi (vital energy) serves to nourish the body, while refining the Shen (spirit) stabilizes the mind. When the body remains still, the Yang Qi (tiger) within naturally circulates; when the mind is tranquil, the Yin Qi (dragon) harmonizes effortlessly. The movement of Yang Qi allows the "lead" (the Yang line in the Kan trigram) to unite with the "mercury" (the Yin line in the Li trigram), while the balancing of Yin Qi enables mercury to merge with lead. Here, lead and mercury are metaphorical terms for the Kan and Li trigrams—the Yang line at the center of Kan represents the body's most refined essence, while the Yin line at the center of Li symbolizes the mind's fundamental energy.

The cultivation process unfolds in three stages: transforming Jing (essence) into Qi requires first stabilizing the body, while refining Qi into Shen demands calming the mind. A stable body ensures physical resilience, which in turn allows mastery over the essence of life; a tranquil mind leads to spiritual fulfillment, awakening one's true nature. When body and mind unite, and life essence merges completely with spiritual realization, the Golden Elixir is achieved. However, merely completing the transformations of Jing to Qi and Qi to Shen does not represent the highest attainment—beyond lies the subtler work of refining the Shen, whose profundity defies simple explanation.

The above outlines the general principles of Golden Elixir cultivation. Those who truly understand will recognize that the Dao's essence transcends written words. For those yet to awaken, foundational practice is essential: first refine Jing, stabilize it, then cultivate Qi; once Qi settles, refine Shen, and only when Shen coalesces can one return to the realm of emptiness. Through deepening stillness, one ultimately unites with the Dao.

Regarding the timing of refining Jing: the "timing" here does not refer to a specific moment. Fixating on temporal concepts is misguided, yet dismissing timing altogether is equally incorrect. The ancients described it as "when lead meets the birth of Gui, gather it urgently"—just as metal naturally transforms upon encountering moisture, practitioners must seize the moment when specific bodily signs arise.

The key to refining Qi lies in regulation (tiaoxie), harmonizing breath rhythm with life energy. Laozi's "Mysterious Feminine Gate" (the root of cosmic creation) resembles the continuous flow of breath—naturally present yet never forced. Some mistakenly equate it with the nostrils, but the Mysterious Feminine refers to the cosmic interplay of opening and closing. The Yijing states that closing belongs to Kun (Yin), while opening belongs to Qian (Yang). This dynamic interplay embodies the transformations of Yin-Yang—the "continuous, seemingly eternal" natural operation Laozi described.

This scripture elucidates the breathing techniques and essential principles of internal and external medicinal cultivation within Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Regarding the breathing method, the alchemical classic states that during exhalation one should connect with the celestial root (the Baihui point at the crown of the head), while during inhalation one links with the earthly root (the Yongquan point at the soles of the feet). The exhalation resembles a dragon's hum summoning rising mists, while the inhalation mimics a tiger's roar stirring sudden gusts of wind. The breathing described here is not ordinary mouth-nose respiration, but rather refers to the cyclical flow of true breath (innate primordial Qi) within the body, operating as naturally as heaven and earth's opening and closing movements.

The cultivation process divides into two levels: external medicine and internal medicine. External medicinal cultivation emphasizes harmonizing outer Yin-Yang through controlled breathing (which should be gentle, subtle, continuous, and prolonged), maintaining mental stillness, and preventing the leakage of Jing (essence) to establish the foundation. Internal medicinal cultivation represents higher-level practice, comprising three crucial stages: refining Jing into Qi (extracting primordial Yang from kidney water to fortify the essence gate), transforming Qi into Shen (nourishing primordial Yin within heart fire to stabilize breathing), and returning Shen to emptiness (merging the heart-mind with primordial Qi to return to void). The text particularly emphasizes that the final stage of "refining emptiness" transcends verbal description, requiring practitioners to personally experience it through quiet contemplation. Concluding with repeated exhortations of "mianzhan" (strive diligently), the scripture embodies the essential principle that cultivation demands persistent, unwavering effort.

On the Discourse of "Nature and Life" (Xing-Ming):

"Nature" (Xing) refers to humanity's innate luminous essence (original spirit, Yuanshen), while "life" (Ming) denotes the foundational vital essence (original Jing, Yuanjing). Essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi) form the root of nature and life. Changes in nature relate to the heart-mind, while changes in life connect to the physical body. All our perceptions and knowledge stem from the heart-mind, yet excessive contemplation depletes our innate nature. Speech and action originate from the body, yet overactivity exhausts primordial Qi. When the body is burdened, life becomes trapped in the cycle of birth and death; when nature is driven by restless thoughts, it falls into endless coming and going. Thus, body and mind serve as dwellings for the spirit (Shen), while the spirit itself is the foundation of nature and life. Nature cannot exist apart from life, nor can life be separated from nature—though named as two, they are fundamentally one.

Regrettably, modern practitioners (including Buddhist monks and Daoist disciples) forcibly divide nature and life, clinging to one extreme while debating endlessly. They fail to understand that just as solitary Yin or isolated Yang cannot generate life, partial cultivation of one aspect cannot achieve the great Dao (Dadao). Those who cultivate life without comprehending nature will ultimately fail to transcend calamities; those who cultivate nature without nurturing life—where will their final destination lie? As the patriarchs wisely said: "Practicing the Golden Elixir (Neidan) without penetrating one's nature is the foremost ailment in cultivation; cultivating true nature without refining the Golden Elixir leaves heroic spirits unable to attain sainthood even after ten thousand eons."

Truly accomplished practitioners harmonize both nature and life: first purifying the heart-mind through precepts, meditation, and wisdom, then nourishing the body by refining essence (Jing), vital energy (Qi), and spirit (Shen). A tranquil body ensures an eternal foundation for life; a clarified heart-mind brings nature to perfection. Perfected nature transcends samsara, while a stabilized life foundation erases the dichotomy of birth and death—ultimately reaching the state where form and spirit merge wondrously with the Dao. Yet remember: nature and life are fundamentally one reality with two functions, never to be forcibly severed. Those who stubbornly separate them reveal their ignorance of their true meaning. If one cannot even unify nature and life, how could they hope to transcend mundanity and attain sagehood?

On the Discourse of Hexagram Symbolism:

The Sea-Jade True Man (Bai Yuchan) once said: "The highest-level elixir methods originally require no hexagrams—so why do alchemical scriptures employ them? This is how sages use tangible images to illuminate the great Dao." The ancients said... (subsequent content on hexagrams symbolizing firing times in cultivation is truncated in the original and cannot be fully translated).

The Dao cannot be fully expressed in words, yet remaining completely silent would obscure its true meaning. The "gua" (trigrams) mentioned here function like objects suspended in midair for observation, akin to how celestial phenomena reveal auspicious or ominous signs through stellar movements, making profound truths accessible to human understanding.

Gua images (symbolic representations) imitate the forms of heaven, earth, and all things, while the yao (yin and yang lines within trigrams) emulate the patterns of their transformations. A single trigram's three lines symbolize the Three Powers (heaven, earth, and humanity), corresponding to the three fundamental energies within the human body: Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit). The complete hexagram of six lines represents the six directions of space (up, down, and the four cardinal directions), mirroring the holistic harmony of the human organism.

Alchemical texts employ trigram imagery and yao statements to guide practitioners in positioning their "furnace" (metaphor for bodily cultivation) according to these symbols and regulating the "firing times" (breath control during practice) in accordance with yao transformations. However, Master Haiqiong (a revered Daoist adept) cautioned later generations against excessive attachment to the forms of trigrams and yao, urging them to transcend formal structures while applying their principles.

Before human conception, existence remains in a state of perfect stillness, comparable to the undifferentiated Taiji (Supreme Ultimate). With physical embodiment comes the differentiation of xing (innate nature) and ming (vital life), just as Taiji gives rise to the two modalities (yin and yang). Physical form generates temperamental qualities, analogous to the two modalities producing the four phenomena. When spirit, hun and po (ethereal and corporeal souls), vital energy, and body-mind achieve completeness, this mirrors how the four phenomena generate the eight trigrams.

Ancient adepts taught: Buddhist cultivation emphasizes refining the "Li Palace" (heart-mind cultivation) through precepts, meditation, and wisdom to attain liberation, while Daoist practice focuses on the "Water Mansion" (kidney essence refinement) through transforming Jing into Qi and Qi into Shen, thereby consolidating the three treasures. Truly accomplished practitioners harmonize both approaches, employing methods of "emptying the heart while filling the abdomen" to supplement the heart's true yin with the kidneys' true yang, ultimately achieving a body of pure yang.

Master Ziyang (a patriarch of internal alchemy) revealed: By extracting the yang line at the center of the Kan trigram (symbolizing water) to transform the yin line within the Li trigram (symbolizing fire), one may transmute into the pure yang constitution of the Qian trigram - the entire subtlety lies in mastering mental focus. Applying the principles of firing times and trigram transformations resembles how the Qian and Kun trigrams balance strength and receptivity, their yin-yang interactions driving seasonal cycles and the ceaseless generation of all phenomena.

This scripture primarily discusses two aspects: metaphorical understanding of fire regulation in cultivation, and perspectives on life and death.

Regarding cultivation practice: The text explains that the advancement and withdrawal in cultivation (referring to methods of adjusting fire regulation in Neidan/internal alchemy) can be analogized to compressing a year into a month, or a month into a day. Whether observing vast cosmic cycles (Yuan-Hui-Yun-Shi, Daoist temporal measurements) or subtle breath rhythms, all follow their inherent patterns. Understanding this principle reveals the key to fire regulation. However, one must remember that using trigrams in alchemy or employing yao-line explanations for fire phases are merely metaphors—these external forms shouldn't be clung to. Like needing a raft to cross a river but abandoning it upon reaching shore, or forgetting the trap after catching the rabbit. Master Zhang Boduan (the patriarch of internal alchemy known as Purple Yang Zhenren) taught that upon grasping the true meaning, one needn't cling to appearances. Genuine cultivation lies neither in rigid time divisions nor in trigram divination. Those of superior capacity comprehend naturally, while intermediate practitioners require gradual guidance—hence why various alchemical scriptures employ trigrams as teaching aids.

Concerning life and death: Quoting Laozi, the text states that people face death lightly precisely because they cling too desperately to life. Only those unattached to life surpass those obsessed with survival. Life and death form a unity—where there is birth, there must be death; without death, there could be no birth. To understand death, one must first understand life. As Confucius replied to Zilu, "If you don't understand life, how can you understand death?" The Yijing (Classic of Changes) teaches that investigating beginnings and endings reveals the truth of life and death. Daoist practitioners seeking ultimate realization must trace back to primordial origins; those desiring final liberation must achieve liberation in the present moment. All realized sages throughout history who transcended transformation did so through complete self-purification. If one can penetrate all circumstances in daily life...

This passage explains how to avoid being deluded by illusions during seated meditation practice, ultimately attaining a state of transcendent freedom. When practitioners close their eyes and become entranced by various illusory demonic realms, they unknowingly mingle with these yin-demons (negative energies). Like a corpse that still breathes, though possessing all six senses (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind), they become disturbed by illusions and lose self-mastery. Such practitioners will find it difficult to attain liberation at the critical juncture between life and death.

True adepts maintain perfect clarity whether their eyes are closed or open, remaining unswayed by any illusory state, coming and going in complete freedom. One's present cultivation directly determines the ultimate outcome—the present moment contains the cause, the future holds the effect. Ordinary distracting thoughts belong to yin-qi (negative energy), while all illusory realms are demonic obstructions. If practitioners can maintain inner purity during daily cultivation, they ultimately won't be deluded. One must use reason to dispel distracting thoughts and willpower to sever illusory attachments.

When distracting thoughts cease, yin-qi dissipates; when illusory connections empty out, demonic obstructions vanish—yang-qi (positive energy) naturally arises. Through prolonged practice until yin-qi is completely eliminated and yang-qi becomes pure, one achieves immortality. Conversely, indulging distracting thoughts and yielding to illusory connections allows yin-qi to grow and demonic obstructions to flourish, causing yang-qi to decline. Prolonged thus, when yang-qi exhausts leaving only yin-qi, death ensues.

Genuine practitioners must completely eliminate yin-qi to attain immortality, whereas ordinary people won't die as long as yang-qi remains. Those who comprehend this principle are true masters within the Daoist tradition. I, the Daoist of Pure Hut (the author's self-reference), spare no effort in reminding practitioners: the cultivation work of the present moment is precisely what determines the ultimate outcome.

Fellow cultivators must establish unwavering resolve and maintain absolute determination, directly letting go of all distracting thoughts. Let your mind become as clear and unblemished as an autumn sky—this is the pure Dharmakāya (the innate pure nature of the practitioner). If you do not cling to external appearances, they will not bind you; if you remain unstained by worldly laws, they will not trouble you; if you do not deliberately observe phenomena, they will not disturb you; if you do not chase after worldly affairs, they will not entangle you; if you do not fixate on sounds, they will not agitate you; if you do not grasp at sensations, they will not ensnare you.

The same applies to the Five Aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, and consciousness) and the Six Consciousnesses (of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind). When the Six Dusts (sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, and mental objects) no longer disturb the Six Roots (sensory faculties), and the Five Aggregates are all empty, one attains the perfect clarity of the Five Eyes (physical eye, heavenly eye, wisdom eye, Dharma eye, and Buddha eye). At this stage, the Six Roots become interchangeable, the entire body gains full awareness, all yin energies dissipate, and the body is filled with pure yang Qi. This is the state of dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu), where form and spirit (xingshen) reach sublime perfection, merging completely with the Dao. In this realm, the distinctions between life and death vanish, karma is transcended, and one attains the ultimate liberation—the profound mystery of the "Patience of the Unborn" (remaining steadfast in the truth of no-birth and no-death).

Regarding the Dao of movement and stillness: The Supreme Venerable (Laozi) said, "Attain the utmost emptiness, maintain perfect stillness, and observe the return of the myriad things as they flourish." This refers to the principle of movement arising from extreme stillness. All phenomena in their complexity ultimately return to their source. This return to stillness is called "returning to destiny" (restoring one's original nature). He also said, "Returning to destiny is called constancy," indicating that movement arising from stillness and stillness arising from movement is the eternal law of the Dao. To regard movement merely as movement and stillness merely as stillness is to perceive only the ordinary state of things. The ancient sages taught that "within stillness lies movement, and within movement lies stillness"—this is the wondrous spiritual state, whereas mere movement or stillness alone pertains only to material phenomena. Thus, the key to self-cultivation lies in mastering the rhythm of movement and stillness. If practitioners can gather body and mind into a state of perfect emptiness and stillness, they will perceive the cyclical patterns of all phenomena. The Yijing (Book of Changes) states, "The Fu hexagram reveals the heart of Heaven and Earth." The Fu hexagram symbolizes the transition from Kun (pure yin) to Fu (the first stirring of yang), embodying the dynamic arising from utmost stillness.

This scripture elucidates the fundamental principles of movement and stillness in Daoist cultivation. "Return" (复) refers to reverting to the original state—not merely shifting from extreme stillness to movement, but comprehending the essence of transformation by observing the cyclical patterns of all phenomena. Those who truly understand the Dao of change transcend change itself, returning to the most fundamental source. This source is stillness—the innate state of life.

The Yijing (Book of Changes) states: "Closing the gate embodies Kun (Yin), opening the gate embodies Qian (Yang)." This alternating opening and closing constitutes transformation, while its endless flow constitutes penetration. The mutual conversion of opening/closing and movement/stillness resembles the ceaseless mechanism of heaven and earth's operation—this is called "change" (变). The ability to adapt infinitely to such change is "penetration" (通). Laozi's saying, "The valley spirit never dies" (referring to the eternal presence of Dao), denotes the Mysterious Feminine (玄牝)—the source of all creation—revealing how the subtle mechanism of movement and stillness naturally manifests in a state of luminous emptiness.

The workings of heaven and earth resemble human respiration: exhaling connects to the heavenly root (Yang), representing opening; inhaling connects to the earthly root (Yin), representing closing. This respiration does not refer to mouth and nose breathing but to the unbroken flow of True Breath (先天元气), the primordial Qi. Those fixated on literal breathing will never grasp the divine wonder of cosmic operation. Those who understand this are superior practitioners: the Qian (Yang) path of ceaseless vigor mirrors how our active mind maintains Wuwei (non-action), while the Kun (Yin) path of nurturing receptivity mirrors how our still body responds to all phenomena. When the mind emulates heaven's clarity and the body emulates earth's tranquility, one masters the subtle mechanism of cosmic opening and closing.

The scripture states, "Clarity and stillness are the source of turbidity; movement is the foundation of stillness." By maintaining constant clarity and stillness, humans unite with heaven and earth. This is the essential method of cultivation: through harmonizing the movement and stillness of body and mind, one attains unity with the Dao.

The Zhonghe Ji discusses the core methods of cultivating mind and nature, emphasizing the harmonization of movement and stillness to align body and mind with the cosmic patterns of heaven and earth.

Nurturing the body focuses on regulation (tiaoxie), while cultivating the mind requires gathering and containment (jianshe). Physical regulation benefits from movement, whereas mental stillness thrives in quietude. In motion, one should emulate heaven's ceaseless rotation; in stillness, mirror earth's unwavering stability. When both body and mind attain perfect tranquility, the harmonious unity of heaven and earth is realized.

At the ultimate depth of stillness, wondrous transformations spontaneously arise—these extraordinary shifts between motion and stillness reveal the "Heavenly Heart" (the primordial true mind). Upon realizing this Heavenly Heart, the "Mysterious Pass" (the crucial aperture in cultivation) opens. Once this gateway is unlocked, all essential components for practice—the "medicinal ingredients" (Jing, Qi, and Shen), the "cauldron and furnace" (the physical vessel and energetic loci), and the "firing times" (the precise timing and intensity of practice)—naturally manifest. At this stage, the Three Treasures (Jing-Qi-Shen), the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), the Four Symbols, and the Five Phases (Wuxing) all function spontaneously in cultivation.

Reaching this stage of gongfu, body and mind merge into oneness, movement and stillness complement each other, and the profound mechanisms of cosmic opening and closing become fully accessible. When mind returns to empty serenity and body enters the state of Wuwei (non-action), transcending all distinctions between movement and stillness, Jing and Qi naturally coalesce and transform. Here, essence (Jing) effortlessly converts to vital energy (Qi), Qi sublimates into spirit (Shen), and Shen ultimately dissolves into the void, reuniting with the cosmic origin. This represents the supreme state of returning to the primordial source—the ultimate fulfillment of the Daoist path to longevity and spiritual vision.

Attached is the "Song of the Primordial Dao" dedicated to the recluse Master Wild Cloud: "To comprehend the mysteries of the Mysterious Pass makes attaining the Dao no difficult feat. Yet pitiable is this pivotal point—small as a star yet distant as ten thousand mountains. Though many in this world seek the Golden Elixir path, most remain attached to words and material forms. Even with devoted practice..."

This passage elucidates the core principles and common pitfalls in Daoist cultivation. Many practitioners become attached to superficial forms—mistaking mineral substances as the foundation of the Golden Elixir (Jindan), identifying the nose and mouth as the Mysterious Feminine (Xuanpin, referring to vital bodily apertures), equating the heart and kidneys with Kan and Li (the Water and Fire trigrams from the Bagua), or pairing essence (Jing) and blood as Yin-Yang correspondences. Such approaches exhaust both form and spirit (Shen) while straying from the Dao (the Way), ultimately depleting one's innate vital energy (Qi).

The author praises the wisdom of Master Wild Cloud of Yingchuan, an accomplished adept who synthesized the essence of Buddhist and Daoist traditions, transcending worldly constraints. The text then reveals the crux of cultivation: extracting the true Yang (represented by metal) from the Kan-water (kidney essence) and harmonizing it with the Li-fire (heart-mind). This constitutes the authentic method of "gathering the medicinal ingredients" (a Neidan term denoting the collection of primordial Qi).

The cultivation process unfolds as follows: at the Dantian (the energy center corresponding to the "earth-thunder" trigram Zhen), practitioners operate the "bellows" (Tuoyue, symbolizing rhythmic breathing) until internal Qi becomes abundant as clouds and rain. The obtained primordial Qi (symbolized by the Jade Toad) is then delivered to the Dantian (the "Hanging Womb Cauldron"), where through regulated firing phases (advancing and retreating the heat), the Internal Elixir (Xuanzhu, the Mysterious Pearl) eventually crystallizes. However, elixir formation isn't the final stage—it requires gentle nurturing and spiritual refinement, maintaining perfect Yin-Yang equilibrium (represented by lead and mercury in harmonious interaction) while avoiding excessive or insufficient firing.

The "Song of Refining Emptiness" section expounds cosmological principles: the Great Dao (Da Dao) originates from emptiness (Xu), from which the Primordial Qi emerges, differentiating into heaven and earth. Heaven embodies movement while earth embodies stillness, just as the North Star (Beichen) remains fixed while rivers flow ceaselessly. Cultivators must emulate this cosmic pattern—nourishing the heart-mind through empty stillness until it becomes steadfast as the North Star, while cultivating Qi through spiritual emptiness until it circulates like unceasing rivers. Mastering this state reveals the path to longevity.

(Note: Terms like "lead and mercury" (Qian Gong) and "Kan-Li" are Neidan (internal alchemy) terminology—lead symbolizes original essence, mercury represents original spirit; Kan and Li signify the interplay of water and fire. These concepts require experiential understanding through practical cultivation methods.)

This passage elucidates the cultivation method through which practitioners attain unity with heaven and earth by entering the state of "emptiness" (虚). This "emptiness" constitutes the fundamental substance of the Great Dao (the cosmic principle) and the origin of all phenomena. All movement and stillness, the interplay of Yin-Yang, and the growth of myriad beings emerge from this emptiness. Thus, emptiness serves as the root of all things under heaven.

In Hangzhou, there was a cultivator named Master Wang who named his meditation chamber "Bamboo Studio," drawing inspiration from bamboo's hollow core—a symbol of emptiness. His approach to life followed three principles: integrity in human interactions, adaptability in worldly affairs, gentleness in spiritual cultivation, and tranquility in bodily nourishment. These mirror bamboo's qualities—forgetting personal attachments when active, releasing distracting thoughts when still; transcending self when responding to circumstances, and rising above material concerns when handling changes. The hollowness of bamboo represents the practitioner's resolute aspiration and unwavering mind, achieving internal-external penetration and consistency throughout. Bamboo's evergreen nature through winter signifies the need to widely consult accomplished masters, embrace practitioners from all traditions, and synthesize the teachings of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism.

This cultivator maintained his original simplicity, reduced selfish desires, regulated breathing to circulate Qi, and observed the transformations of phenomena to comprehend the return to origin. How could one accomplish this without reaching the ultimate state of emptiness under heaven? Naming his chamber after bamboo was indeed apt.

In the year Xinmao (unspecified in records), a Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist discussed profound teachings at Zhonghe Retreat in Jinling (modern Nanjing). Deeply moved, I later attended three of his lectures and found his words consistently reflected the aspiration for serene emptiness. Like a flying sword cutting through space, I urgently sought his guidance during the Chongyang Festival in Jihai year. Observing his conduct revealed his profound grasp of mysterious principles.

I bestowed upon him the Daoist name "Juechanzi" (珏蟾子). The character "Jue" (珏), composed of two jades, symbolizes the interpenetration of emptiness and form—the essential method for cultivating body and spirit. Emptiness constitutes the substance of form; form manifests the function of emptiness. Their interpenetration enables unimpeded coming and going. "Jade" also signifies purity—from the empty, tranquil mind emerges natural radiance; with stabilized Shen (spirit), innate wisdom manifests to illuminate all things. Attaining this state completes the cultivation of immortals, buddhas, and sages. Hence I composed this record.

Concluding with a verse:

Cultivating immortality, buddhahood or Confucian sagehood—

All three teachings emphasize "emptiness."

Throughout history, those transcending mundanity

Have all worked diligently on emptiness.

Immortal-seekers take emptiness-quietude

As the foundation for refining the Golden Elixir (Neidan).

The essence of the cultivation path lies in attaining the state of "emptiness" (xu). Practitioners must achieve a mind that is lucid and empty, free from ego and attachments, to truly comprehend the celestial principles of the Dao. The substance of the Dao (Dao ti) is as profound and boundless as the void itself—the movements of heaven and earth, the transformations of Yin-Yang, all naturally unfold within this emptiness. If one can fully merge into this state of emptiness, they will penetrate the patterns governing all things in existence.

The mystery of the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the highest attainment in Neidan practice) resides in returning to the origin of emptiness. In cultivation, one must first "reach the utmost emptiness and maintain profound stillness" (zhi xu ji, shou jing du)—bringing the mind to a state of perfect emptiness and tranquility. In this condition, the primordial Qi (vital energy of life's origin) will naturally coalesce, and the Yang energy (life force) will regenerate. "Empty the mind and fill the abdomen" (xu xin shi fu, maintaining inner clarity while the Dantian is replenished) forms the foundational practice of Daoist cultivation.

During actual practice, attention must be paid to the following: When "gathering the medicinal essence" (cai yao, collecting Jing and Qi), preserve a mind that is empty yet luminous; in interactions with others, maintain a humble and receptive attitude; the refinement of "lead" (lian qian, cultivating vital essence) must occur in a state of emptiness and Wuwei (non-action); the "advancement of fire" (jin huo, elevating cultivation energy) should use emptiness as the bellows (metaphor for the channel of energy circulation). The key to all methods lies in mastering the wondrous function of emptiness, ultimately reaching the state where the void itself is shattered, awakening to the great Dao.

The Dao appears empty yet functions inexhaustibly—it resolves conflicts and smoothes sharp edges. Practitioners must "blend with the light and merge with the dust" (he guang tong chen, harmonizing with worldly existence), forgetting distinctions between self and others. Before heaven and earth took form, the Dao already existed—when there was no division of above and below, only the supremely empty and luminous primordial Qi. This mysterious void is the "Gate of the Mysterious Feminine" (xuan pin zhi men, the portal of life's origin). At the pinnacle of cultivation, the primordial spirit (Shen) may freely pass through this gate like spring thunder, suddenly revealing the luminous and perfected true nature.

To conclude with the metaphor of green bamboo: Its hollow core yet upward growth through jointed sections perfectly symbolizes the cultivation of emptiness. Practitioners must settle their spirit within emptiness, embodying its truth in speech and action until reaching the ultimate state of "emptiness so profound it transcends emptiness itself," returning all things under heaven to the great void.

How lamentable are those in this world who seek the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path of cultivation! They employ all manner of peculiar methods, yet all deviate from the true Way. Some cling stubbornly to external forms, obsessing over literal interpretations of texts; others waste effort like plucking leaves while searching for branches; still others gather the essence of sun and moon, swallowing beams of light and rosy mists. These bending and twisting postures are utterly superfluous—rolling eyeballs and pinching eyelids only bring dizziness and blurred vision.

Some gulp down saliva while pressing the Coccyx (Weilü) and Jiaji acupoints; some fixate on visualization techniques, staring at their nose tips; others churn rivers and overturn seas in their practice, even consuming foul substances. They either rigidly cling to empty stillness, falling into obstinate emptiness, or bustle about in futile exertion. Worse still are those who massage while counting breaths—all these practices are far removed from the true essence of the Golden Elixir path.

What practical use is there in practicing the Eight Pieces of Brocade (Baduanjin) or Six Healing Sounds (Liuzijue), or in fasting and abstention? Those obsessed with techniques of "harvesting yin to supplement yang," employing the "nine shallow, one deep" method in sexual practices, twisting waists to protect kidneys and guard the Gate of Life (Mingmen), or moving essence (Jing) through bending and stretching exercises—such heterodox methods aren't worth mentioning. Others practice testicle retraction and breath suspension, vainly imitating bears and birds; the "waist-rubbing ascetics" heat their bellies, while "qi-circulation masters" redden their faces.

They beat the Heavenly Drum, embrace Mount Kunlun, click teeth to gather spirit (Shen), and stare at their crowns, mistaking internal hollow sounds for the intercourse of Dragon and Tiger (symbolizing yin-yang energies); they "burn" their Dantian and "boil" the Sea of Qi (Qihai), persisting day and night without sleep; enduring torment in thin garments and bare feet as if repaying karmic debts of past hunger and cold. Maintaining silent days believing it connects them to spirits, silently worshiping the Jade Emperor hoping to ascend—all this is wasted effort.

More absurd still are those who play with their genitals as cultivation, using beautiful women as alchemical cauldrons, calling the harvesting of others' essence and blood "gathering true lead (Zhenqian)," yet remaining oblivious to their loss of primordial qi (Yuangi). Others spend whole days discoursing on mystery and Chan (Zen), showing off verbal dexterity—pointing to emptiness while discussing emptiness, raising fingers and posing koans, debating swiftly to display cleverness, waving whisks to receive disciples, winking and blinking during question sessions—is this truly the conduct of genuine adepts?

Those who rely on intellectual understanding to claim awakened wisdom, forever waiting for "seeing one's nature" yet never attaining realization! Whether cultivating the Dao, studying Confucianism, or practicing Chan—one must avoid attachments and instead turn inward in self-reflection. Only when one suddenly touches one's own nose one day will they realize all previous paths were circuitous detours.

(Note: "Golden Elixir" refers to the highest attainment in Daoist internal alchemy (Neidan); "Coccyx" and "Jiaji" are key points along the Governing and Conception Vessels; "Dragon and Tiger" symbolize yin and yang energies in Neidan practice; "true lead" is a Neidan term referring to primordial qi.)

This scripture elucidates core concepts and common misconceptions in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, employing metaphorical language and negative formulations to reveal the true essence of cultivation.

The text first addresses frequent errors made by spiritual seekers: becoming attached to discussing concepts like "the origin of received Qi" or "fundamental roots," while pursuing tangible forms. Authentic practice transcends such external forms—the heart isn't fire, the kidneys aren't water, and one shouldn't cling to notions like "celestial gui" (innate vital essence) or "yellow matron" (a term for the spleen). The mysterious feminine (Xuanpin, representing the union of Yin-Yang) doesn't refer to the mouth and nose, nor can temporal directions like mao-you-zi-wu be simplistically mapped to zodiac signs or Bagua (Eight Trigrams).

True alchemical cultivation lies in grasping the essence of Yin-Yang: the Five Phases ultimately return to Yin-Yang transformations, and the Four Symbols (lesser Yang, greater Yang, lesser Yin, greater Yin) all emerge from the Xuanpin's interplay of these two energies. The source for "gathering medicinal herbs" (collecting primordial Qi) remains profoundly elusive—mercury (symbolizing the spirit, Shen) arises in the east, while lead (representing vital essence, Jing) originates in the west. The sun's soul in the Li trigram embodies the maiden (spirit), while the moon's essence in the Kan trigram signifies the infant (vital essence). Practice should follow natural spontaneity, free from forced striving, even relinquishing Buddhist methods like pratyekabuddha or śrāvaka paths.

The scripture reveals the key: the human body-mind itself is both fire and medicine. When body and mind achieve stillness, the mysterious apertures (crucial points in cultivation) naturally open, allowing Jing, Qi, and Shen to fuse spontaneously. After three hundred days of practice, the embryonic spirit (internal elixir) undergoes complete transformation, attaining the state of "shattering emptiness."

The second section, "Song of Mysterious Principles," further clarifies: Though the supreme Dao (the Way) is formless and imageless, it still requires a master's transmission of practical methods. The hexagrams Zhun and Meng symbolize day and night, while Fu and Gou represent the zi-wu temporal nodes. Alchemical refinement requires "applying fire within emptiness" and "seeking true earth (genuine intention) in stillness." Body, heart, and mind must unify—lead, mercury, silver, and sand (various alchemical terms) share the same essence. Practitioners must discern proper timing and understand host-guest dynamics.

Through symbolic imagery, it describes the alchemical process: The red child of southern mountains (spirit) rides the azure dragon, while the golden lord of northern seas (essence) mounts the white tiger—their merging resembles the entwined serpent and tortoise. Directly transcending appearances to return to the Dao, the sudden awakening to perfect comprehension surpasses gradual minor attainments. One must naturally apprehend true mechanisms without boasting of verbal prowess. Beginners who lack humble devotion to teachers, merely dwelling in formal retreat huts (yuan du), will ultimately labor in vain. Accumulating three thousand virtuous deeds, turning inward through introspection, and mastering Yin-Yang's interplay (two and five), they kindle fire in the east like a tiger roaring to summon wind, while purifying dust in the west resembles a dragon moving to spread rain—ultimately commanding thunder and wielding the celestial pivot's energy.

This passage elucidates the essential principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Practitioners must first eliminate distracting thoughts ("removing impurities") to allow the natural circulation of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) through the body's meridians. Here, "Black Tortoise" signifies kidney-water while "Maiden" represents heart-fire. When water and fire achieve harmony (symbolized by their mutual reinforcement), it resembles refining the Great Medicine (Golden Elixir) in an alchemical furnace, resulting in the formation of "threefold embryonic breathing" within the body—a state of profound, rhythmic respiration depicted as "threefold dancing."

The text emphasizes that cultivation fundamentally rests on "frugality" (cherishing Jing and Qi), which surpasses the pursuit of intellectual cleverness. One must sever discursive thinking ("abandoning scheming") and distance oneself from sensory pleasures to maintain purity. It notes how Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism all value "breath regulation"—through which one accesses the root ("attaining the foundation"), comprehends principles ("illuminating truth"), and concentrates spiritual energy ("condensing Shen").

The "Song of Nature and Principle" section expounds cosmological dynamics: Qian (Heaven) governs creation, Kun (Earth) nurtures growth, while the mysterious "Dark Feminine" (Xuanpin) refers to the Dantian (energy center). The Dao resides in the interplay of movement and stillness—precisely the wisdom transmitted through Confucius's lineage. Cultivation requires the introspective restraint of dragons and snakes in hibernation, employing "light inversion" to shatter delusions, polishing away mental impurities ("scouring tarnish"), ultimately achieving unity with the Dao.

The "Song of Fire Timing" discusses mastering alchemical stages: no external crucibles (Qian cauldron, Kun furnace) are needed. Through inner observation and light inversion, the universe's primordial state (before Fu Xi's trigrams) becomes contained within a millet-sized space. The crux lies in heart-mind cultivation—external formalities need not be deliberately sought.

To attain the most profound state of cultivation, one must practice solitude with utmost care. The key to solitary practice lies in controlling the eyes, completely severing temptations of sensual desire, thus avoiding external slander and humiliation. When the heart-mind maintains pure emptiness, the innermost consciousness becomes crystalline like jade. At the pinnacle of stillness practice, Yang Qi will spontaneously stir within, akin to the "hidden dragon" in the first Yang line of the Yijing (Book of Changes) where nascent Yang energy must first accumulate strength through concealment.

As cultivation deepens, the growing Yang Qi resembles a dragon appearing in the field—one must not act hastily at this stage. When inner vision reveals light, maintain caution like a dragon in the abyss. Upon reaching the "flying dragon in heaven" stage (the fifth Yang line representing Yang at its zenith), one achieves the work of creation. Yet beware: at the height of Yang, Yin is born—this is when one should withdraw and guard against subtle changes, following the retreating path of Kun hexagram's first Yin line (symbolizing Yin's emergence).

Throughout cultivation, gather the spirit like tightening a pouch. When the Golden Elixir (Jindan, essence of Neidan practice) matures, remain steadfast even amidst external disturbances. When Yin energy is completely refined and pure Yang reaches perfect intensity, the Golden Elixir can be swallowed into the Dantian (energy center), making one a true companion of immortals. Here Yin and Yang harmonize like an affectionate couple, with the three Yins and three Yangs circulating orderly—the vital essences (symbolized by the Pure Maiden and Azure Youth representing Yin and Yang Qi) naturally blend, while lead and mercury (representing Jing, Qi, and Shen) spontaneously coalesce, ultimately realizing the Dao of Wuwei (non-action) in the realm of emptiness.

The master of this cultivation state is truly extraordinary—like clouds veiling mountain peaks, heaven and earth in solemn stillness, or the moon's pure radiance illuminating an empty valley.

[Annotation on the Dragon-Tiger Song]

Dragon and tiger symbolize Yin and Yang. As the transformations of Yin-Yang are mysteriously unfathomable, these metaphors are employed. The Yijing states: "The alternation of Yin and Yang is called the Dao," while alchemical texts warn: "Excessive Yin or Yang constitutes illness." Yin-Yang manifests the movement and stillness of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate)—when differentiated, clear Yang ascends as heaven, turbid Yin descends as earth, and all things take form through these two energies.

Immortal masters throughout history used dragon-tiger imagery to make Yin-Yang comprehensible for practitioners. These symbols represent infinite transformations: in Neidan (internal alchemy), they're called "medicinals" (cultivation materials), likened to the "cauldron and furnace" (practice space), with their cyclical movement termed "fire phases" (cultivation rhythm). They're also explained through correlative pairs—Kan and Li (water-fire), metal-wood, male-female, husband-wife—all illustrating the principle of Yin-Yang mutual generation.

This passage explores the profound meaning of the "Dragon and Tiger" concept in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Dragon and Tiger are metaphorical terms representing the Yin and Yang energies within the human body, known by different names at various cultivation stages: when dynamically responsive they're called "medicinal ingredients"; when taking form, "cauldron and furnace"; during transformation, "firing times"; during interaction, "Kan and Li (water and fire)"; in their firm state, "metal and wood"; in their ascending/descending movements, "male and female"; and in their subtle union, "husband and wife."

The ancient saying "clouds follow the dragon, winds follow the tiger" illustrates how the sage's De (virtue/power) can resonate with all things. The mystery of Dragon and Tiger reveals the fundamental principles of cosmic creation. To grasp their true meaning, one must turn inward: the complementary pairs of emotion and nature, body and mind, Hun (ethereal soul) and Po (corporeal soul), Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) all ultimately converge at the "Mysterious Feminine Gate" (the crucial point where Yin and Yang energies intersect within the body). As the Daode Jing states: "The valley spirit never dies, it is called the Mysterious Feminine" - this mysterious gateway represents the root of heaven and earth.

The key to breath cultivation lies in mastering the timing of opening and closing: exhalation resembles a dragon's chant summoning clouds (connecting to celestial roots), while inhalation mimics a tiger's roar generating winds (linking to earthly roots). This rhythmic alternation creates transformation - when the "wind" (breath energy) and "clouds" (internal Qi) interact, they refine the golden liquid (Neidan medicinal substance). Through repeated condensation of this golden liquid, one ultimately forms the "Great Dragon-Tiger Elixir." The breathing described here isn't ordinary respiration, but rather the circulation of genuine Qi through the body's mysterious passes (key energy centers in cultivation).

A true Daoist practitioner who comprehends the essence of Dragon and Tiger can achieve the Golden Elixir path. Though these principles appear profoundly mysterious, with firm foundations and abundant De (virtue), nothing remains unattainable. Therefore, cultivators must focus on nurturing virtuous roots and accumulating merit - these form the foundation for attaining the Dao.

This scripture primarily expounds on the crucial principle of subduing the "Dragon and Tiger" (referring to the heart-mind and vital essence) in the cultivation of internal elixir (sacred embryo), along with the story of a seeker named Zhao Shuzhai.

The cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy) requires understanding the principle of taming the Dragon and Tiger. Master Ziyang (Zhang Boduan, patriarch of the internal alchemy school) once said: Gathering body and mind is the method to subdue them. When thoughts are still, the Qi (vital energy) flows naturally within (dragon's hum); when the body is unmoving, the primordial Jing (essence) coalesces spontaneously (tiger's roar). Stable Qi nourishes the physical form, while concentrated Jing stabilizes the Shen (spirit). When both body and spirit reach this profound state, one merges with the Dao, accomplishing the work of spiritual refinement. Is this not the most marvelous endeavor under heaven?

Zhao Shuzhai was an ancient native of Hangzhou who served as a eunuch in the imperial court during his youth. Later, disillusioned with worldly vanity, he abandoned fame and fortune to pursue the Great Dao. Though living in the mundane world, his heart had already transcended it. Seeking to cultivate through harmonizing his spirit (blending and concentrating the Shen), he paid special attention to the Way of Dragon and Tiger. One day he brought a Dragon-Tiger diagram seeking instruction. Unable to decline, the author composed this passage as commentary.

The author advised Zhao Shuzhai: The ancients painted Dragon-Tiger images to illuminate the Dao's principles—now you use these images to comprehend the truth. The key lies in having discerning vision to perceive the essence, not mistaking the outward form. If one grasps the true meaning through words and apprehends the essence through images, they'll realize the genuine Dragon and Tiger reside not on paper, but within their own body.

Concluding with verse, the author summarized: The true Dragon and Tiger are not hard to find—the essential method lies in gathering Yang Qi to replenish Yin Jing. The four seasons revolve like heaven's ceaseless motion; whether hidden or soaring depends on the mind's determination. Though cultivation may seem as startling as waves rising from flat ground or thunder cleaving clear skies, perseverance ensures success. Let this encourage all practitioners to press onward!

This scripture elucidates the profound state of "True Dragon and True Tiger" in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. These terms do not refer to actual animals but symbolize the Yin and Yang energies within the human body. The dragon represents Li Fire (heart fire), while the tiger symbolizes Kan Water (kidney water). Practitioners must understand their essence as formless and beyond physical attributes.

During cultivation, one should not cling to concrete imagery. Forcing mental pictures of dragons and tigers leads to delusion. True practice lies in mastering the movement of Yin-Yang energies—particularly during the pivotal Zi hour (yang energy's birth) and Wu hour (yin energy's birth). Rather than confusing water and fire energies, practitioners must invert the Five Phases (reversing conventional Qi circulation), returning primordial energy to the Palace of Supreme Mystery (Dantian).

The highest attainment is the unity of mind and Dao. In sudden awakening, one feels the Celestial Gate (Baihui point) open atop the head, realizing the common origin of Wood (liver Qi) and Metal (lung Qi). As the Tian Gang stars (Big Dipper) revolve, the Milky Way's dipper pours forth energy, enabling wind-summoning, rain-calling, thunder-control, and lightning-harnessing—completing the union of Kan (water) and Li (fire) in an instant.

Authentic dragon-tiger cultivation manifests when: the tiger (kidney water) raises cool breezes from the Sea Bottom (Huiyin point), while the dragon (heart fire) sends sweet rain through flames. When "clouds move and rains fall" (smooth Qi circulation), all bodily channels harmonize. Though people speak of "six dragons steering heaven" (microcosmic orbit), only one dragon (original spirit) truly governs; though "five tigers penetrate the mystic pass" (five energies returning to origin), the key lies in one tiger (true intention) generating true Earth (spleen intention).

Understanding the constant harmony of dragon and tiger reveals the mutual exchange of turtle-snake (Governor and Conception vessels). Sages use imagery provisionally—true cultivation transcends forms and words to directly point to the Dao's source: Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) is fundamentally emptiness. Even "forgetting images upon grasping meaning" isn't the ultimate; complete release of all thought marks the pinnacle.

The Song of No-One concludes: The great Dao, originally emptiness, gives birth to Taiji. Taiji divides into Yin-Yang, then generates Four Symbols and Five Phases. "One" is the root of heaven-earth—the Mystic Gate (Daoism) takes "One" as its guiding principle. The Yijing (Book of Changes) evolves all phenomena from "One"; human minds anchored in "One" can revolve heaven-earth. Heaven gains clarity through "One", earth gains peace, valleys gain fullness, spirits gain responsiveness, and all things gain growth.

This scripture primarily expounds on the core concept of "One" (一) in Daoist cultivation. "One" represents the primordial origin of the cosmos and ultimate truth, serving as the foundation of all things. The text clarifies that whether in Confucianism, Daoism, or Chan Buddhism, all ultimately point to the same truth. The key to spiritual practice lies in comprehending and maintaining this "One."

Practitioners should focus on "embracing the origin and guarding the One" (抱元守一) - preserving the primordial Qi and fundamental truth - through the method of "refined concentration on the One" (惟精惟一) to open the mysterious gate. However, one must avoid becoming attached to the concept of "One," ultimately reaching the state of "attaining the One then forgetting the One" (得一复忘一), where one transcends conceptual constraints after realizing the fundamental truth. Clinging stubbornly to "One" is likened to a foolish cat guarding an empty nest.

The text outlines the cultivation sequence of "three and five merging into One, then returning to emptiness" (三五混一一返虚): first unifying essence, Qi and spirit (three) with the Five Phases (five) into "One," then returning from "One" to emptiness, and finally relinquishing even the concept of "emptiness" to reach a state of profound stillness. It criticizes two erroneous tendencies: interpreting "nothingness" as mere vacuity, or doggedly clinging to "One" as a fixed concept.

The "Song of Embracing the One" (抱一歌) further explains: from Wuji (Non-Ultimate) emerges Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), which transforms into Yin-Yang (two), then generates all phenomena (three). Cultivation involves returning to the source, reverting to the authentic "One." Through specific methods (such as "a husband and wife uniting in meditative stillness" symbolizing Yin-Yang harmonization), essence, Qi and spirit (three origins) and the Eight Trigrams with Five Phases return to quiescence. At advanced stages, practitioners experience internal visions like "golden light filling the spirit chamber," with the Mysterious Feminine Gate (玄牝之门) - the passage of primordial energy - opening and closing naturally, achieving the state of "emerging from being to enter non-being" (出有入无).

Though not fully elaborated, the "Song of the Wisdom Sword" (慧剑歌) suggests using the sword of wisdom to sever deluded thoughts. The entire scripture emphasizes "One" as the core of cultivation while warning against attachment - ultimately even the concept of "One" must be transcended to achieve complete unity with the Dao.

This scripture reveals the esoteric "sword formula" in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Through specific cultivation methods, adepts can refine their Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) into an intangible "divine sword."

The cultivation process unfolds as follows: When the body's Yang energy first emerges (the return of initial Yang), the practitioner first mobilizes the Six Jia (six protective deities) to safeguard the furnace fire, then employs special breathing techniques (tongs and hammer) to regulate the firing process. After a hundred days of tempering, this formless sword takes shape, radiating dazzling brilliance—swift as lightning yet clear as the autumn moon.

This sword possesses boundless power: it can sever the Six Thieves (desires arising from the senses and mind), eliminate the Three Corpses (three malevolent spirits within the body), and vanquish all demonic influences. Though formless and shapeless, it exists through the practitioner's spiritual achievement. Without this "sword," the Daoist path remains incomplete—it can cleave primordial chaos, dissolve obstacles, and accomplish all things.

The latter section explains cosmological principles underlying cultivation: The Dao generates the Primordial Qi from emptiness, which differentiates into the Five Greats (cosmic evolutionary stages), then divides into the Yin-Yang duality (heaven and earth). The human body mirrors the cosmos, containing the Four Symbols and Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). Practice requires single-pointed focus ("blocking all distractions to concentrate on one source"), opening the vital energy passages, and harmonizing with natural cosmic patterns. Understanding this principle allows transcendence beyond conventional perception to sagehood.

The key lies in returning to the origin—gathering scattered consciousness into unified focus ("combining dual harvests into one contest"). This generates inconceivable power capable of shaking Mount Sumeru (the legendary Buddhist mountain) and breaking through the barriers of mystical realms.

This passage addresses common misconceptions in spiritual practice and outlines proper cultivation methods. Many practitioners today enjoy being unconventional or pretending to possess mystical powers, relying on eloquence to boast and using clever rhetoric to feign wisdom. Beginners are easily deceived by such flashy displays, while the learned become overly arrogant, focused only on momentary triumphs without considering long-term consequences.

These individuals constantly show off their verbal skills in public, as ridiculous as selling water by the riverbank. Their minds are restless and impatient, quick to anger, narrow in perspective, and constantly exhausting their spirit (Shen) through pointless busyness. They either sink into dullness or scatter their awareness—such cultivation only depletes their essence (Jing), vital energy (Qi), and spirit (Shen), leaving them physically wasted and filled with regret.

To walk the true path, one must first abandon arrogance. Treat teachers with the reverence due to a father, and uphold precepts with discipline. Extend the same forgiveness to others that you grant yourself, avoiding harsh judgment. Genuine wisdom is not forced display; true greatness is not self-promotion. Reduce excessive desires, discard extravagance and superficiality, and strictly cultivate foundational practices.

In refining the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the core concept of internal alchemy (Neidan), representing the vital essence formed through the transformation of Jing, Qi, and Shen), one must not mistake dirt for treasure—understand the true meaning of lead and mercury (symbolizing the Yin and Yang energies within the body). Do not cling to superficial attainments or intellectual understanding; real cultivation transcends knowledge and perception. Nurture the true self in emptiness, purifying the heart until it is untainted. The mystery of the "nine returns and seven reversions" (the cyclical process of energy circulation in Neidan) lies neither within nor without. The original reality (one’s true nature) is formless and unchanging; the eternal spirit (Lingxing) never strays. Remain single-mindedly focused on embracing the One (Baoyuan Shouyi), practicing diligently without slackening.

This scripture describes the process and states of attainment in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. It begins with foundational cultivation techniques: harmonizing the Four Symbols (Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, Black Tortoise), gathering the Three Treasures (Jing/essence, Qi/vital energy, Shen/spirit), and consolidating the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth). Through the process metaphorically called "refining Geng-metal and tempering Jia-wood" (symbolizing the harmonization of Yin-Yang), practitioners elevate their cultivation.

During practice, one must skillfully regulate the Yang Fire (conscious intent) and Yin Talisman (natural breathing), mastering the timing of advancement and withdrawal while maintaining a serene and empty mental state. Within the twilight state of "vague obscurity" (a trance-like meditative condition), the practitioner activates the cosmic creative process, guiding the two spiritual substances (lead and mercury, representing Yin-Yang) into the Central Palace (Dantian/energy center) to ultimately forge the Golden Elixir. The text employs symbolic marital imagery: "Old Woman Huang" (representing true intent), "Maiden Ding of Southern Mound" (symbolizing Li-fire), and "Blue-robed Maiden" (representing Kan-water) to illustrate the union of Yin and Yang.

When this Yin-Yang union reaches its zenith, practitioners enter a state transcending both self and external phenomena. Their refined Jing and Qi coalesce into the Sacred Embryo (nascent form of the internal elixir), giving birth to the Mysterious Pearl (Golden Elixir). This luminous elixir shines with crystalline purity, embodying perfect radiance and inestimable value. The scripture concludes by exhorting cultivators to sincerely contemplate these truths and achieve immediate realization. Those who succeed may attain the state of the "Positionless True Being" (primordial spirit), mounting cranes to ascend transcendently. Master Qing'an reminds students of the Dao to treasure these true words, for they contain the essential keys to cultivation.

The Zhonghe Ji (Collection of Central Harmony) presents a series of cultivation poems that elucidate the core practices of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy). The first poem explains that cultivation must begin with foundational work, as natural as a mountain spring emerging from the earth. Establishing the "elixir furnace" (a metaphor for the body) requires understanding the application of Kun-earth (referring to the lower Dantian in the abdomen), while regulating the "fire times" (breath control) relies on Xun-wind (symbolizing respiration). By blending Dui-tiger (the Qi of lung-metal) with Zhen-dragon (the Qi of liver-wood), and harmonizing Kan-male (kidney-water) with Li-female (heart-fire), the Four Symbols (metal, wood, water, fire) return to the Central Palace (Dantian), allowing one to grasp the pivotal mechanism of creation.

The second poem discusses "herb gathering" (collecting Jing-Qi-Shen within the body). The refinement of lead and mercury (symbolizing essence, Qi, and spirit) must align with proper timing, realized during deep stillness. Maintaining inner purity undisturbed by external distractions, one awaits the natural emergence of "heavenly dew" (primordial Qi), whereupon spiritual clarity arises spontaneously. When desires subside and original nature returns, primordial Jing coalesces. Using Kan-water (kidney Qi) to nourish Li-fire (heart-mind), the two spiritual substances merge, achieving the state where yin exhausts and yang purifies—this is the attainment of Dao.

The third poem describes the "advancing fire" stage (strengthening yang Qi). When true yang Qi arises, the Samadhi True Fire (pure yang Qi) activates from Li-palace (heart), like thunder resonating from Zhen-palace (liver). The union of spirit and Qi generates numinous substance, while the interdependence of heart and breath forms the sacred embryo (nascent internal elixir). Upon comprehending this mystery, the Three Passes (coccyx, spine-jade pivot, and jade pillow) and nine orifices open naturally.

The fourth poem emphasizes daily practice. True lead (primordial Qi) and true mercury (primordial spirit) form the foundation of elixir refinement, sought within emptiness. Forced pursuit becomes a burden; only by maintaining serene natural awareness—constantly illuminating the pearl of heart-mind and forgetting external distractions—can one preserve the "treasure of life" (primordial Qi). Neither clinging to movement nor stillness, the present moment itself becomes the immortal realm.

The fifth poem addresses "solidifying form" (stabilizing body and mind). Cultivating the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) path isn't difficult—only indulgence in sensory pleasures poses obstacles. Without delusion by external realms, desires naturally cease; without mental clutter, the heart-mind settles naturally. Eliminating self-other distinctions aligns with heavenly principle; mastering Yin-Yang brings thorough understanding. This teaches practitioners: undisturbed by sensory temptations, one's original nature shines complete and luminous.

The sixth poem depicts "union" (Yin-Yang harmonization). Dao cultivation is inherently simple—the crux lies in stillness practice. Yin and Yang Qi naturally ascend and descend; metal-water (lung-kidney Qi) circulates continuously. In the Purple Mansion (upper Dantian), green dragon (liver Qi) and white tiger (lung Qi) intertwine, while in the Mysterious Palace (Dantian), the earthly axis (Conception Vessel) and heavenly gate (Governing Vessel) unite. Like clouds dispersing after rain, the spiritual embryo forms—even a male body can gestate the sacred fetus.

The final poem reveals the eternal Dao. The Great Dao truly manifests in ordinary life—apprehending the opening and closing of Qian-Kun (heaven-earth), following the rhythms of sun and moon. "Returning to the root" has its method; "recovering life" holds its key. Comprehending the mysteries of Yin-Yang waxing and waning, transcending mundanity to sagehood becomes as natural as daily affairs.

These passages from the Zhonghe Ji (Anthology of Central Harmony) reveal essential Daoist cultivation secrets. The first section "Coming and Going" elucidates the mystery of Yin-Yang transformation: The Valley Spirit (referring to primordial Qi) is eternal and indestructible, much like the Mysterious Feminine (the source of all creation), serving as the pivot between heaven and earth's opening and closing. This primal energy circulates ceaselessly, as naturally as Laozi ascending to heaven astride a dragon or Bodhidharma returning home upon a tiger. When cultivation succeeds, the entire cosmos becomes radiant with light.

The second passage "Warning the Multitude" critiques empty theorists: Their eloquent words may dazzle like heavenly blossoms, yet they fundamentally deviate from the true Dao. It's like squeezing one's eyes to see illusions—chasing external phenomena leads only to delusion. Master Qing'an speaks bluntly here to awaken people's hearts and remove obscurations.

"Refuting Heterodoxy," the third section, exposes the flaws of deviant practices: Among 3,600 heretical methods, obsession with any only deepens confusion. Those constantly pursuing external manifestations can never comprehend the root of one's nature and life-force (Xingming). No amount of cleverness helps—in the end, all forms and reputations are but games played with the spirit (Shen).

The fourth teaching "Conquering Demons" addresses lethargy and distraction: Nighttime drowsiness proves hard to resist because turbid Qi dominates with excessive Yin. Like calming tides or stilling winds, maintain the clarity and stillness of heart-mind—then drowsy demons naturally vanish.

"Revealing the True Way," the fifth passage, discloses alchemical essentials: Mastering firing times and incantations isn't difficult, for the true medicine (original Jing) arises spontaneously within like ocean tides. Understanding how to gather true lead and mercury (original Shen and Qi) while relinquishing material desires enables the Three Primordials (Jing-Qi-Shen) to unite and the Five Qi (of the organs) to return to their origin. After completing the ten-month gestational period (Neidan cycle), one achieves spiritual rebirth and meets the divine.

The sixth section "Regulating Harmony" discusses balancing body and mind: Though Jing-Qi-Shen constitute the great medicine, forced pursuit becomes bondage. Regulate breathing by following true respiration (natural breath), refine spirit by cultivating non-spirit (Wuwei governance). Forget distinctions between self and objects—then the Three Flowers (Jing, Qi, Shen) naturally gather at the crown, the Five Qi harmonize spontaneously, and one attains unobstructed freedom everywhere.

Finally, "Illuminating the Foundation" clarifies cultivation's root: The body is but a temporary name superimposed on emptiness—where names exist, attachments follow. Understand the principles of Yin-Yang waxing-waning and life-death cycles. While worldly practice requires a master's guidance, transcendental realization depends on self-awakening. Just as high noon (Yang's zenith) secretly contains the potential of midnight (Yin's birth), so too does enlightenment embrace transformation.

The Zhonghe Ji (Book of Central Harmony) passage expounds the mysteries of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice and the realm of true joy, analyzed in several sections:

The first section discusses the "sword-forging" cultivation method. The practice transmitted by enlightened masters follows the natural patterns of Yin-Yang transformation (zaohua gong), akin to forging a divine sword. Through refining the body ("Qian's firmness and Kun's smelting"), regulating breath ("Li's fire and Xun's wind"), one ultimately achieves a state of clarified mind-heart ("the dragon-elephant heart's subtle mastery") and unwavering will ("the commander's heroic resolve"). True adepts who comprehend this method can transcend spatial limitations.

The second section describes the "toad-grotto" cultivation realm. The toad-grotto refers to the Dantian (energy center), the optimal site for practice. Here cultivators refine Jing (essence) as "golden liquid" and cook the elixir as "white numinous sprouts" through celestial cycles ("rotating the Dipper's handle") and fire regulation ("moving the thunder chariot"). Upon opening the crucial apertures ("all gates unlocked"), one freely traverses heaven and earth ("calmly boating the Milky Way").

The third section explains the uniqueness of the "pure hermitage." This cultivation space holds extraordinary Daoist mysteries. Through Yin-Yang pairing ("one husband-wife") and Five Phases harmonization ("three sons-three daughters"), the inner world becomes vaster than external emptiness. Practitioners ultimately attain the unity of heaven and human ("viewing the North Star facing south").

Selected verses from Twelve Odes on True Joy elucidate cultivation's essence:

True joy lies in inner awakening, beyond worldly fame. Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) practice reveals its wonder: alchemy is ultimately heart-refinement ("refining within refining"), where Dao cultivation means Wuwei (non-action) with subtle action. By quieting distractions ("ceasing conditions"), nurturing primordial Qi ("ancestral energy"), forgetting external stimuli ("no hearing no seeing"), and nourishing the spiritual embryo ("nurturing the infant"), when foundations stabilize, auspicious light naturally manifests.

Practical methods:

Using Kun (Yin) as furnace and Qian (Yang) as cauldron, understanding Yin-Yang principles leads to immortal Dao. The key lies in gathering the heart-mind ("restraining emotions to return to nature"), merging vital essences ("mercury uniting with lead"). Severing external ties while maintaining right mindfulness allows spontaneous elixir congealment. Authentic practice ("the adding-subtracting method") unfolds naturally without forced pursuit of mystery.

The "medicinal ingredients" reside within; the "fire phases" follow natural rhythms like ocean tides. One gathers ingredients from emptiness ("harvesting within void"), refines the golden elixir in stillness ("smelting in stability"). When elements harmonize ("nine-three spokes converging, two-eight intersecting"), Five Phase energies gather ("five qi facing"), reaching pure Yang perfection to realize the authentic immortal body.

The cultivation of Neidan (internal alchemy) begins with harmonizing breath and spirit, akin to refining with the fire of wisdom while nourishing with the dew of Dharma water. When Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) fully merge, one's innate nature, emotions, and consciousness also unite. At this stage, Yang energy arises while Yin energy recedes, much like an upright alchemical furnace (golden stove) attracting the gathering of deities, or a perfected cauldron (treasure tripod) drawing the homage of all phenomena in heaven and earth. Once the elixir is formed and the Golden Elixir reaches completion, the primordial spirit can transcend the constraints of the physical body, attaining liberation in a state of pure, untainted spiritual form.

The profound principles of the primordial are inexhaustible—like lead (symbolizing kidney essence) born in the west and mercury (symbolizing heart-mind) born in the east. Though water (kidneys) and fire (heart) naturally reside above and below, the pivotal Mysterious Pass lies at the center of the body. Only by realizing that "being" is actually "non-being" and "emptiness" is the true reality can one comprehend the truth of mutual generation between existence and non-existence, as clear as the red sun rising from the ocean depths.

Stillness and stability align with eternal truth; when all Yin energy dissipates, Yang energy naturally restores itself. Like the Yellow Maiden (spleen-earth) in the Kun trigram (symbolizing the abdomen) nurturing the Crimson Child (true Yang), or the Lovely Maiden (heart-mind) in the Li trigram (symbolizing the heart) wedding the Simpleton (kidney essence) of the Kan trigram (symbolizing the kidneys). Then, sweet dew (yellow sprouts) descends from the crown, the Dantian (energy center) trembles like thunder (white snow), the sky clears of all clouds, and the golden toad (moonlight) shines with divine radiance.

Just as the fair maiden (heart-mind) marries the Golden Lord (lung-metal), the Yellow Maiden (spleen-intention) must mediate their union. Only when the husband and wife (heart and kidneys) truly unite, with Yin and Yang blending like harmonious clouds and rain, can the elixir be perfected. Dwelling daily in the Vermilion Palace (heart), sharing wine, then retiring drunk to the Purple Ultimate Palace (Dantian). With day and night filled with blissful affection, the spiritual embryo (Golden Elixir) will form within a year.

In truth, every person harbors the Yin-Yang couple (heart and kidneys) within, yet worldly ignorance clings to delusion. Instead of seeking the inner alchemy of self-transformation, they chase external foundations for elixir-making. Mistaking sexual arts for the Nine Cauldron Alchemy of the Yellow Emperor, such heretical practices will ultimately summon retribution from the underworld.

Let me reveal the truth of the inner couple: the Blue-Robed Maiden (wood-soul of the liver) and the White-Haired Elder (metal-po of the lungs). When metal and wood's natures intertwine, black mercury (kidney essence) and red lead (heart-mind) naturally resonate. In moonlit breezes, spirit and breath flow freely; amid clouds and rain, boundless vitality arises. Understanding these truths makes condensing the true embryo (Golden Elixir) effortless.

The Nine Returns and Seven Reversions (celestial cycles) are key to alchemy, to be realized through meditative stillness. Grasping but a single mystery allows the two spiritual substances (Yin and Yang) to unite spontaneously. Three years of refinement may culminate in a moment; the Ninefold Cyclic Elixir is perfected in the blink of an eye. Then, overturning the cauldron (transcending form), the elixir's light illuminates all heaven and earth.

The Great Dao (the Way) transcends written teachings—it is transmitted beyond doctrine, for all possess complete innate nature. The Mysterious Wind gently purifies the three Dantian, while the moon of wisdom brightens every meridian. The so-called Three Passes of the Tushita Heaven (upper, middle, and lower Dantian) are but provisional names.

The "Heavenly Dragon's Single Finger" metaphor reveals that the true essence of cultivation lies not in superficial forms. The profound mystery resides in the "realm beyond sound" (referring to the ultimate truth transcending language), which cannot be fully captured by Zhou Dunyi's (Lianxi) Taiji Diagram or any theoretical framework.

(Reflections on the Four Bonds to Awaken the World) People are often bound by the four illusory concepts of "body, mind, worldly affairs, and circumstances," and many lose their way because of them. Disasters often stem from struggles for power and profit, while the suffering of samsara arises from greed and attachment. True cultivation requires: stabilizing the heart, cutting off delusions starting from bodily actions, relinquishing cunning calculations in dealing with the world, and following circumstances with ease. Only then can the foundation of life be secured, allowing one's innate nature to shine with perfect radiance.

(Ode to the Gourd) Cultivating the Dao is like nurturing a spiritual gourd: the seed of innate spirituality (ling miao) is already present—it simply needs to be nurtured in accordance with natural laws. Daily nourishment comes from the Kun earth (symbolizing gentle virtue) to fortify the roots, while timely irrigation with Kan water (symbolizing the energy of kidney essence) fosters growth. Eventually, it will blossom with flowers as pure and luminous as white jade, bearing fruit as perfect and unshakable as gold. When the Mysterious Pass at the crown (Baihui point) opens, a new heaven and earth will manifest within the body.

(The Mirror of the Heart) Refinement is akin to smelting: infusing the Qian (heavenly) yang energy (the "Qian ore") into the Kun (earthly) yin cauldron (the Dantian), using heaven and earth as the furnace to shape the dharma form. When perfected, it shines like a polished mirror, as lustrous as quicksilver. This mirror of the heart can illuminate the vast trichiliocosm yet also condense into a millet-sized elixir pearl (the Neidan). When the whole is revealed, one must shatter all attachments and return to the source.

(Pointing Out the Mysterious Feminine to Fu'an) The Mysterious Pass (the key point in cultivation) is not difficult to understand—the crucial step is to turn the heart-mind inward. By comprehending the interplay of yin and yang (the two polarities), one can grasp the timing of primordial Qi's movement. The opening and closing of heaven and earth never cease, just as the ascent and descent of Li fire and Kan water (the energies of heart and kidneys) merge harmoniously. To Fu'an, I clarify: the foundation of the elixir path must be established where thoughts settle into stillness.

(In Response to Scholar Weng's Rhyme) Delving into the elixir verses of Bai Yuchan (the Southern Song master of Neidan), one who exhaustively investigates the principles of heaven naturally attains immortality. Without understanding how the Taiji gives rise to the Three Powers and Five Phases, seeking the Penglai paradise is futile. The Buddhist lineage relies on the mind-to-mind transmission of patriarchs, while Fuxi's Daoist tradition emphasizes the heart-to-heart transmission. Like the moon reflecting on a thousand rivers, the truth is one, manifesting everywhere.

(For Deng Yichan) Chan Buddhism, Neo-Confucianism, and the Quanzhen School—all three are gateways to guide later seekers. Buddhism speaks of illuminating the mind to see one's nature, while Confucianism emphasizes investigating things to extend knowledge. The elixir platform (Dantian) preserves the spark of true fire, while the spiritual abode (heart) dissolves all distracting thoughts. Realizing that all phenomena return to the One, the inner and outer worlds alike brim with the vitality of spring.

(Seven Poems on Self-Attainment) When the Mysterious Pass of primordial chaos is shattered, what distinction remains between immortals and Buddhas? This realm transcends the conceptual mind—it is no mere verbal Zen. All day, one dwells in effortless ease; all night, one rests in natural freedom. Body and mind dissolve into the wondrous state, entrusting all things to the spontaneous Dao.

This poetic passage from The Collection of Central Harmony embodies profound Daoist cultivation wisdom. In modern terms:

All worldly pursuits people chase are as illusory as dust. When one sees through the patterns of all phenomena and relinquishes attachments, body and mind can abide peacefully anywhere. Maintaining meditative stillness while harmonizing with seasonal changes reveals true delight. It frequently reminds people through the essence of the Zhouyi: The mystery of attaining Wuwei (non-action) lies in severing external distractions, allowing heavenly principle to manifest naturally. Daily activities should emulate heaven's vigorous, unceasing movement, while conducting oneself with earth's generous, accommodating virtue. It reminds disciples to return to life's origin, shattering all artificial constraints to unite with the natural Dao.

The true essence of cultivation isn't superficial practice—genuine transformation exists in that subtle realm between presence and absence. When body and mind are settled, concentrating the Shen (spirit) and consolidating the Jing (essence) transcends the bonds of affliction. In the stillness of heart-mind, one realizes the truth of neither birth nor cessation. The sun and moon's revolutions, Qian and Kun's transformations—all proceed unimpeded, ultimately revealing original nature's radiance.

Daily life simply requires focused nurturing of heart-mind: in stillness, regulate breathing; in activity, follow human sentiment. Conceal brilliance without showing sharp edges, finding true joy in purity and stillness. Maintain the nameless, pristine original nature, untainted by worldly dust, thereby transforming the mundane into the divine. Comprehend the wisdom of Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor, penetrate the essence of Buddhism and Daoism, and transcend temporal and spatial limits.

The self-deprecating image of the "sallow-faced, emaciated" cultivator may seem ordinary, yet they've already penetrated countless dharma gates—a bowed head and joined palms fully express the Dao's marvel. The "lamp within a mirror" metaphor illustrates heart-mind: the precious mirror is formless, yet wisdom's light shines brightly; the true original nature is fundamentally pure, the dharma-body naturally luminous. The golden cauldron refines true fire, the jade pool bathes in sunlight—both hinge on guarding the center. In the quiet chamber, the heart is like a bright mirror; in the empty room arises the lamp of wisdom, illuminating inwardly and outwardly. Just as the Golden Elixir coalesces in the cauldron, ultimately accomplishing the great Dao.

The lotus root poem uses the plant to symbolize the Dao-body: its spiritual root differs from ordinary vegetation, the dharma-body originally spotless, true nature naturally translucent. Outwardly appearing twisted, its inner cavities interconnect freely. Like the lotus rising unsullied from mud, eventually blooming into a pond of crimson blossoms. The self-description reveals an originally clear and empty nature, luminous through past and present, who retreated into cultivation due to weariness with fame and profit's entanglements.

These verses employ everyday metaphors to unveil core Daoist principles of "returning to original simplicity" and "dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming Shuangxiu)," emphasizing the cultivation essentials of refining heart-mind and returning to the source within ordinary life.

This passage from The Book of Harmony and Balance discusses the attitude and spiritual state of Daoist practitioners in their cultivation journey.

The first section employs a metaphor: just as one would rescue someone from deep mud, practitioners should consistently maintain a mindset of self-restraint and helping others. Yet in this world, those who truly understand this state of mind are exceedingly rare.

The two verses titled "Zhuo An" (Humble Hermitage) describe the essential principles of constructing a place for cultivation:

The site should be chosen in a tranquil location far from worldly clamor ("Jade Capital" refers to the abode of immortals). The foundation must be solid, and the cauldron (referring to the alchemical furnace) should be placed steadily. The cultivation space should have pillars as towering as Mount Sumeru (a sacred mountain in Buddhist legend), with beams balanced like the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) diagram, and the open sky as its roof. Such a place of practice allows cultivators to peacefully enjoy the pure bliss of no birth and no death.

The ground must be leveled, and the cultivation space should be completed as soon as possible. The "dragon vein" (a feng shui term referring to mountain ridges) should enter from the south (the direction of Bing), while the water flow should head westward. Doors and windows should be completely unobstructed, and the latticework should be bright and airy. The most fitting companions in this place of cultivation are the clear moonlight and the refreshing breeze.

The six Qinyuanchun lyrics in Zhonghe Ji (The Harmony Collection) reveal essential techniques of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. The first poem explains that with authentic transmission, cultivation is not difficult. One must regulate the balance of water and fire when the Gui-water (kidney Jing/essence) arises—the fire must not be too intense, nor the water too cold. Like stirring the furnace fire with Xun-wind (breath Qi), alternate between civil and martial fire. Within the golden furnace (Dantian), the two spiritual substances of Jing and Shen ultimately refine into the Golden Elixir. The key is first to dispel doubts before returning to the origin of life. Let the primordial spirit (the "red infant") command Yang Qi, drawing true Yin from the Li-palace (heart); let the "golden duke" (lead, symbolizing Yuanjing/primal essence) harness true Yang to refine with fire. When the Golden Elixir is complete, Yin and Yang harmonize, transcending the mundane.

The second poem warns practitioners: without guidance from an enlightened teacher, arduous cultivation is futile. Clinging to "existence" or "nonexistence" are both extremes—true profundity requires revelation by a master. The core of practice lies in the Three Treasures (Jing, Qi, Shen); the Mysterious Pass (the pivotal point in cultivation) has no fixed location, as movement and stillness generate each other. When the Five Qi (energies of the five viscera) return to the origin, all mysteries converge in an instant.

The third poem synthesizes the essence of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism: Daoism speaks of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), Buddhism of the Five Eyes (wisdom perspectives), Confucianism of the Five Constants (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, faith). The central Earth (Wuji) governs Metal, Wood, Water, and Fire, just as the White Tiger, Azure Dragon, and other celestial symbols are ruled by Gouchen (the central star). The five viscera correspond to Five Virtues; the mystery of "Three-Five" harmonization (balancing the Three Dantians and Five Phases) is immeasurable. Southern Fire is two, Eastern Wood three, Northern Water one, Western Metal four, and Central Earth five—their fusion transforms Yin-Yang. The practitioner refines lead and mercury (Jing-Qi) into an indestructible diamond body.

The fourth poem elucidates cosmic generation: the Dao, fundamentally void, gives rise to Taiji (the One); Yin-Yang (Two) begets the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, Humanity), and Three generates all things. Though forms vary, their essence is emptiness. Ordinary minds struggle to grasp this—one must realize that within voidness lies all phenomena, requiring deep immersion in the Zhuangzi's "reaching utmost emptiness." As Laozi taught, truth is sought within the void.

This passage from The Book of Central Harmony explores the core principles of Daoist cultivation, emphasizing the path of returning to one's origin through emptiness, stillness, and non-action (Wuwei).

The opening reveals that the source of the Dao is a state of void-like serenity that transcends all forms ("prior to the forms of heaven and earth," referring to the primordial chaos before creation). Practitioners should see beyond appearances to recognize the fundamental unity of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. Whether through Laozi (Daoism), Gautama (Buddha), or Confucius, all sages throughout history point to the same truth—attaining immortality or Buddhahood by illuminating the mind and realizing one's true nature. Though methods differ, all paths ultimately converge.

The text then critiques common cultivation pitfalls: genuine practice requires no attachment to external forms (such as symbolic furnaces or elixir ingredients) nor rigid adherence to hexagrams or auspicious timings. The essential method lies in maintaining mental stillness ("not a single distracting thought in the spiritual altar") to allow the primordial spirit (Shen, innate consciousness) to manifest naturally. When the mind becomes perfectly clear, the body's Yin and Yang energies spontaneously harmonize—this is the true key to forming the inner elixir (Neidan term for the fusion of Jing, Qi, and Shen).

In the instructions given to Master Jing'an, three essential elements are outlined: primordial spirit (eternal consciousness), ancestral Qi (primal vital energy), and original essence (Jing, life's foundation). These three are fundamentally one. Practitioners must stabilize body and mind through breath regulation ("settled respiration") to achieve mental clarity and energetic coalescence. Specific methods include harmonizing Yin-Yang, consolidating vital energy ("maintaining fullness through careful preservation"), and refining the body's symbolic energies (represented by lead, mercury, silver, and cinnabar) into unity—ultimately realizing the dual cultivation of nature and life, where form and spirit attain perfection.

The concluding verse for Chan Master Chungu uses striking metaphors: the "sword that kills" represents severing delusions with absolute resolve, while the "blade that gives life" symbolizes the wisdom awakening one's true nature. It stresses that cultivation demands both great courage and insight to break through the mysterious barrier of life and death (a critical stage in practice). The text advocates a direct, form-transcending approach to realizing the fundamental mind.

This passage contains two Daoist cultivation poems, the first describing spiritual states and the second explaining essential Neidan (internal alchemy) techniques.

The first poem depicts a practitioner in serene meditation, their mind luminous as a full moon, all distracting thoughts dissolved. In this state, one truly comprehends how the teachings of the Buddha (Qutan) and Laozi (Lao Dan) share the same essence. The mysterious Dao-wind blows like spring through frozen valleys—even when a thousand mountains lie buried in snow, the solitary peak within remains verdant. All clever Zen gestures—bamboo tapping, flower-holding, eyebrow-raising—become outdated tricks. Only by transcending superficial understanding can one grasp the patriarchs' true meaning, culminating in reverent palms-pressed salutation (the Buddhist "he'nan" gesture).

The second poem, dedicated to Zhang Xiwei (Daoist name Ji'an), reveals: The ultimate Quanzhen ("Complete Perfection") state is returning to primal simplicity, termed "Xiwei" (subtle imperceptibility). Those who realize this comprehend celestial secrets. Clinging to scriptures or empty Zen rhetoric is misguided, for profound mysteries hide in ordinary affairs. Cultivation requires resolute will—reuniting the Four Symbols (lesser/solar yin-yang) and Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) into yin-yang duality, coalescing the Three Treasures (Jing-essence, Qi-energy, Shen-spirit) while maintaining luminous awareness. When essence crystallizes and spirit returns to its source, moonlike radiance erupts—form and spirit become sublime, transcending materiality.

It then critiques two errors: fixation on physical cultivation traps one in corporeal limitations, while chasing emptiness leads to sterile void. True practice requires understanding the "mysterious aperture"—the body's cosmic conduit, seemingly empty yet containing creation's secrets, ineffable yet present in all.

The third poem for lay practitioner Wu details Neidan methods: Establish the cauldron in the Qian position (head), set the furnace in Kun (abdomen), with fire-times (mindful regulation) exquisitely natural. Yin-yang revolve like clouds bringing rain—the key lies in serene, luminous awareness. Realizing one's true nature (xing) yields the Mysterious Pearl (inner elixir), completing the Taiji cycle of life's origin (ming). Through sustained contemplation, perceive true suchness, return primordial Qi to its root, and liberate the six senses (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, mind) into unimpeded interfunction.

These verses from The Book of Balance and Harmony (Zhonghe Ji) reveal essential keys to Daoist cultivation.

The first verse, dedicated to Master Zhou of Anxian, explains that true alchemy (Neidan) lies not in external furnaces but in maintaining inner equilibrium. The practitioner must focus on stillness and stability, embodying nature's mysteries like an oyster nurturing its pearl or a wasp transforming its larvae. Refining Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy, symbolized by lead and mercury) requires balancing Yin-Yang—capturing the White Tiger (Yang within Yin) in the Northern Sea and subduing the Azure Dragon (Yin within Yang) in the Southern Mountains. When these energies merge, the Golden Elixir (Jindan) is forged. A true cultivator blends with the mundane world like light mingling with dust, concealing their radiance amid ordinary life.

The second verse, for Zheng Songxi, emphasizes returning to primal simplicity. Outwardly appearing foolish and idle, the adept secretly aligns with celestial patterns. Excessive intellectual knowledge becomes an obstacle—only wholehearted devotion leads to celestial longevity. True immortality isn't found in some Western paradise but through the dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming Shuangxiu), harmonizing spiritual awakening (Shen) with bodily foundation (Jing). This unity of form and spirit arises from balancing the tangible and intangible.

The third verse, addressed to Sun'an entering meditation, stresses the rigorous "hundred-day foundation-building" phase. One must resolve doubts and sever delusions. Practice requires alert relaxation, like grasping the pivotal axis of the Northern Dipper's rotation. The mystic Middle Path lies between existence and non-existence—neither rigidly controlling nor carelessly indulging. When Yang Qi flourishes, the Elixir crystallizes spontaneously.

The final verse, for Overseer Wang (a Daoist temple administrator), uses metaphors to illustrate timing in cultivation: like cooking with alternating fierce and gentle fire, or tuning a lute's strings to perfect tension. It reveals the profundity of "central harmony"—finding dynamic balance between movement and stillness. This is the true art of enduring vitality.

(Note: All specialized terms follow the glossary's standard translations with pinyin provided at first occurrence.)

This passage from the Zhonghe Ji (Collected Writings on Central Harmony) expounds the philosophical concept of "central harmony" (中) and its cultivation methods. It first describes the realm of accomplished practitioners: their wisdom is as profound as the ocean, their virtue as lofty as mountains. They relinquish sharp edges, resolve conflicts, abandon cunning intellect, and return to the primordial undifferentiated state ("prior to the Image-Emperor"), aligning with Laozi's (Lao Dan) mysterious Dao. In this state of empty tranquility, they transcend conceptual knowledge, achieving perfect integration of body and mind in unity with natural creation. When internal alchemy (Neidan) cultivation succeeds, a luminous, radiant state manifests.

The second section elaborates on the essence of "central harmony": Confucianism takes it as its guiding principle (儒宗), Daoism as its foundation (道本), and Chan Buddhism as its pivotal mechanism (禅机)—all three teachings regard "central harmony" as their core concept. The Middle Way is the shortcut to cultivation; all virtues and actions must be rooted in it. Whether in movement or stillness, one must accord with central harmony, while also perceiving its subtle profundity. Daily activities like rising, resting, eating, and drinking should all follow this principle, truly comprehending its essence. Yet after fully grasping central harmony, one must transcend its limitations to become a "great person" in the truest sense.

The third section uses poetic verses to reveal cultivation keys: the human heart is perilous and unpredictable, while the Dao-mind is subtle and elusive—containing creation's profound mechanisms. Maintain luminous awareness (灵明不昧), pure as moonlight. When refining essence (Jing), qi (Qi), and spirit (Shen), focus with undivided purity (惟精惟一) until achieving jade-like flawlessness. Through alchemical methods like "the intercourse of Kan and Li" (坎离交媾)—where the single line from Kan's center moves to Li's southern position—yin and yang unite ("the crimson dragon entwines the black turtle"). Miraculous transformation occurs amidst apparent contradictions ("severe frost in sixth month"). Like the union between Laozi (白头老子) and the Plain Maiden (素女), when yin-yang harmonizes, it gestates an immortal embryo. After a year's cultivation nurturing this "sacred embryo" (圣胎), one ultimately attains ascension (足躡云归).

The conclusion exhorts disciples: The Great Dao is present in daily life, yet people are blinded by worldly perceptions. Mundane turmoil destabilizes spiritual clarity—the towering mountain of self/other duality (人我山高) and vast ocean of right/wrong distinctions (是非海阔) obscure the original mind. Only by shattering these shackles can one realize the profound mysteries.

These poems from the Zhonghe Ji (Collection of Central Harmony) reveal the core principles of Daoist cultivation, emphasizing the practice of "guarding the center to attain harmony" (守中致和).

The first poem, "Dedicated to the Hut of Emptiness," outlines the essentials of daily practice. Cultivation is compared to brewing medicine—the key lies in maintaining inner emptiness and purity (存虚抱素), ultimately unifying all methods into one. The movement of primordial Qi (元气) in the Purple Ultimate Palace (the Dantian) resembles the convergence of the Three Flowers (精, 气, 神) in an alchemical furnace. How does one establish the furnace and cauldron (for Neidan practice)? It's like crafting vessels from pure gold. One must capture the Golden Crow (the sun, symbolizing the original spirit) and the Jade Rabbit (the moon, symbolizing the original essence), sealing them within the earthen cauldron (Dantian). The firing process (cultivation rhythm) must be precisely controlled. Once the Golden Elixir is perfected, one can freely traverse mystical realms, transforming the physical form into emptiness and ascending directly to the Great Clarity Heaven (the highest celestial realm).

The second poem, "In Praise of Manager Yin of the Hut of Who," uses a question-and-answer format to reveal the truth of cultivation. Who is the master of this hut? Who sustains the practice? Just as eating when hungry is an ordinary act, who truly comprehends its deeper meaning? Who can discern the five tones (角徵宫商)? Who can penetrate the five colors (青黄皂白)? In daily interactions, who takes the lead? Walking, sitting, silence, speech—understanding these reveals the distinction between host and guest. Who shapes the external form? Who governs the internal Qi circulation? Ultimately, one must return to Wuwei (non-action) and abide eternally in the Crimson Mansion (a Daoist celestial paradise).

The third poem, "Imparting to the Hut of Awakening," points out that the essence of the Dao is naturalness. Deliberate pursuit leads to constant error, while excessive focus on emptiness causes one to lose direction. Clinging to "being" or "non-being" is equally mistaken—better to silently guard the Middle Way (守中), where the spirit finds natural peace. Let go of the past, do not worry about the future, and focus on the present. When the six desires (of the eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) do not arise, and the three poisons (greed, anger, and delusion) are eradicated, Yang Qi ascends while Yin Qi recedes. Realizing the wondrous existence within emptiness and returning to the original source constitutes true awakening.

The fourth poem, "Dedicated to Magistrate Ding: The Unity of the Three Teachings," explains the fundamental convergence of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. The profound mystery of Laozi (Daoism) lies in reaching the pinnacle of emptiness and stillness; Buddhism speaks of illuminating the mind to see one's true nature; Confucianism emphasizes preserving the mind and nurturing one's nature—yet all ultimately point to the same truth.

This passage from The Harmony Collection (Zhonghe Ji) elucidates the core principles of Daoist cultivation through examples of specific practitioners.

The first section explains that cultivation requires comprehending the principle of "sincerity" (cheng) as taught by Confucius (Zhongni). Through genuine inner sincerity, one may perceive the Dao. Though Daoism later branched into different schools (Three Teachings), their origin is the same "Dao." Practitioners must maintain inner emptiness and stillness, akin to Chan Buddhist states of true emptiness and utmost tranquility. Continuous, uninterrupted practice allows return to the primordial source, revealing the Dao’s profound mysteries.

The second section is dedicated to Li Daopan, a practitioner of sleep cultivation. It describes sleep as a valid method of practice (sleep samadhi), where one maintains sincerity and mental clarity even in dreams. Proper sleep cultivation regulates spirit (Shen) and Qi during rest. Few truly master this meditative sleep—though the body slumbers, intrinsic nature remains undimmed; though the eyes close, inner awareness persists. In deep sleep, one remains serene and coolly lucid, as if wandering immortal realms. Upon waking, it feels like dwelling in the Moon Palace (Guanghan Gong), embracing the moon in repose.

The third section praises the lay practitioner Fu of Round Hut. The "○" (round symbol) represents the original mind—formless since antiquity, perfectly upright and complete. Inconceivably small yet vast enough to contain the cosmos, it permeates heaven and earth without obstruction. Rootless and shapeless, brilliantly whole, it is the true original face. Expanded, it transcends materiality; withdrawn, it hides within radiance. At the moment of attainment (when the crown splits), the golden Dharmakaya manifests in full perfection.

The fourth section advises Zhang Zaigong of Stillness Hut. Cultivation must uphold the Middle Way—the slightest deviation creates distinctions. One maintains composure in movement, naturally penetrating profound mysteries in stillness. By mastering the flow of essence (Jing), Qi, and spirit (Shen) (the Three Origins and Five Qi), they coalesce as golden blossoms in the Dantian (Yellow Court). Refining the "fire times" (huohou) requires precise timing, like the tides and moon’s waxing and waning. Ten months of unbroken practice transcends life and death. As for higher realms, words cannot convey them.

The final section addresses Mi’an on the Three Teachings. Though Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism differ in methods, their ultimate truth is one. This single-word Dharma gate is unfathomably deep—it is what Laozi called the "Valley Spirit" (gushen), the mysterious essence of the Dao.

These passages from The Harmony Collection (Zhonghe Ji) elucidate the essential principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation through poetic metaphors.

The first verse states that Confucius (Zhongni) originally conceived the Book of Changes (Yi) without fixed patterns, while the Buddha (Qutan) spoke of nirvana in profoundly mysterious terms. To cultivate immortality, one must regulate breath and enter stillness; to emulate sages, one must relinquish intellectual knowledge; and to attain Buddhahood, wisdom is key. When the true essence of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism is fully grasped, one reaches the state of perfect enlightenment, where the true nature of reality (radiant light) bursts forth from the crown of the head.

The second poem, dedicated to Master Zong, describes the practice of contemplation in silent concentration, where sudden awakening arises from profound stillness (the "dark female" refers to the interplay of Yin and Yang). When nature and emotions harmonize, it is like a wondrous encounter in the valley of emptiness. The poet reveals the secret transmission of the ancestral masters—true Dao lies beyond words and actions, just as a footless child can still somersault. Understanding this mystery allows one to grasp the profound truth of "creation from nothingness."

The third poem, presented to Mian, speaks of the Golden Elixir (Jindan, or internal alchemy) as ancient in origin; without recognizing its source, refinement becomes difficult. In truth, it inherently exists within all (the original foundation), so one need not cling to external forms. The Golden Elixir is paradoxically soft yet hard, sharp yet perfectly round—most elusive to describe when neither held nor released.

The fourth verse, for Yi'an, explains the omnipresent wonder of the "Three and Five" (referring to the Five Phases). By maintaining the Middle Way (forgetting dualistic views) in daily life, one penetrates the realm of mystery. Cultivation should resemble the merging of sun and moon (the toad and crow uniting as jade) and the alignment of the Five Phases (East's Three meeting South's Two), refining the five energies (fivefold Qi) into the elixir.

The fifth poem, dedicated to lay practitioner Sun, declares that this luminous awareness (emptiness-spirit) has been complete since antiquity, capable of illuminating primordial chaos. It hints that the innate spiritual nature within all beings is the very root of cultivation.

These verses employ rich metaphors to convey Neidan practice, emphasizing the return to the origin, harmonizing Yin-Yang, and integrating the Five Phases—core alchemical techniques. They advocate transcending form to directly realize the true mind.

This passage from The Book of Balance and Harmony reveals the mysteries of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice through the dialectical relationship between "silence" and "speech."

The first section depicts meditative visions: In the stillness of the hermitage, one cultivates the white toad (a metaphor for refined Jing/essence) within—pure as snow, luminous as the moon, circulating endlessly. When celestial and terrestrial Yin-Yang energies harmonize (symbolized by the hexagrams "Mountain Water Meng" and "Earth Thunder Fu"), the true Qi (celestial water, mysterious frost) naturally coalesces. The practitioner may then ride the azure phoenix to the Moon Palace (Guanghan Palace), transcending the cycles of life and death.

The verse dedicated to the Silent Hermitage explains: Silence itself is speech, and within speech lies silence. The true secret of the Golden Elixir lies in realizing the unity of silence and speech. Silent realization (quiet awareness and subtle communion) is essential, while clinging to superficial teachings is delusion. One must perceive the root of silence within speech—the unborn and undying. True eloquence doesn't depend on words, for silence and speech are ultimately non-dual.

The instruction for Daoist Ge of the Reverent Hermitage clarifies: The Dao is fundamentally ineffable. Practitioners must realize it through silent contemplation. Abandoning all distracting thoughts and maintaining serene emptiness, one regulates breath between movement and stillness, thereby attaining transcendental wisdom (paramita) in meditative absorption. The Mysterious Pass (the crucial point in alchemical practice) resides neither in mind nor matter, neither immortality nor buddhahood—it is an ineffable mystery. Those awakened effortlessly perceive creation from nothingness and the manifestation of the Yang spirit.

The disciples' teaching warns: Our lineage's Mysterious Pass is not transmitted to outsiders. When guiding seekers, employ both severe methods (the sword that kills illusions) and compassionate means (the hand that gives life) as circumstances require. True vessels of wisdom should directly realize this teaching, cutting through all attachments (slaying buddhas when encountering buddhas), ultimately reaching the realm beyond heaven and earth.

The final instruction details practice: After gathering the medicinal essences, refine them in the sturdy cauldron (the physical body). The foundation lies in cleansing the six senses of defilements, severing habitual tendencies, and allowing the true intention (the sovereign ruler) to govern completely.

The Zhonghe Ji (Book of Central Harmony) contains several poems elucidating the essential principles of Daoist cultivation. The first section explains that the firing process (a crucial stage in Neidan/internal alchemy) relies on prajñā (wisdom), utilizing natural forces like the Five Thunders (representing Five Phase energies) and the Azure Dragon (symbolizing eastern Wood Qi). Practitioners must cleanse distracting thoughts as if irrigating the mind with spiritual springs. Through the Ninefold Reversion Elixir process (nine stages of refining Jing, Qi, and Shen), one ultimately achieves a body of pure Yang, returning to the origin of emptiness and attaining the supreme state beyond form and phenomena.

The poem "Man Ting Fang: Dedicated to Prefect Jiao" states: Whether dwelling in mountain forests or bustling markets, every place contains the Mysterious Pass (key to practice). The wise should contemplate in stillness. The author claims mastery of both "life-giving methods" (ways of salvation) and "death-dealing blades" (techniques to sever attachments), which he intends to gradually reveal to practitioners. With immediate realization, transcendence becomes effortless. Simply put, cultivation begins with the "Three Threes" (likely referring to the three Dantian or the Three Treasures of Jing, Qi, Shen), kindling True Fire in the Mysterious Palace (lower Dantian), then guiding energy up the Governing Vessel to Kunlun (crown of the head). Controlled practice resembles clouds sealing mountain valleys, while relaxation mirrors moonlight reflecting on cold pools. At completion, like the full moon achieving perfection, one's name enters the immortal registers.

Another "Man Ting Fang: Recorded Teachings for Ding'an" observes: Whether studying Buddhism or Daoism, practicing Chan or investigating principles, none escape the Mysterious Feminine (fundamental Yin-Yang interaction). Sadly, most lose their way, researching only branches while wearing out meditation mats in vain. Worst are those seeking externally—even the Buddha would laugh. Witnessing true creation (the mystery of cultivation) brings awe. The adept Ding'an should investigate in stillness, perceiving original nature and abandoning past learning. Fully comprehending the essence of life and death (symbolized by the skull) transcends physical constraints.

"Shui Diao Ge Tou: For Magistrate Wang of He'an" describes Neidan practice: The lower Dantian (earthen cauldron) must be properly aligned; inquire of the Yellow Matron (mediator of True Intention) in stillness. Unite Wutu (primordial Qi) with Jitu (postnatal essence) like springs emerging beneath mountains. Herb-gathering (harvesting primordial Qi) requires precise timing—firing (mental focus) must be neither insufficient nor excessive, but perfectly balanced. Maintaining the Middle Way connects one with cosmic principles. These mysteries prove inexhaustible; since realization, daily life feels bathed in spring breeze. It resembles wedding the Western Maiden (Metal Qi) to the Southern Red Child (Fire Qi) in eternal harmony. After ten months of gestation-like cultivation, the Sacred Embryo forms, casting off the mortal shell to merge with emptiness.

The final poem "For Master Zhou Qiuchan" (though not fully explicated) carries the title "Autumn Toad"—a moon metaphor suggesting cultivation should mirror the moon's luminous purity and cyclical perfection.

These poems from the Zhonghe Ji (Harmony and Equilibrium Collection) expound the core principles of Daoist cultivation, using metaphors from daily life to illustrate essential techniques for spiritual practice.

The first poem explains that the foundation of cultivation lies not in external things. Lead and mercury (symbolizing Jing and Qi in Neidan practice) inherently have no fixed form, and the furnace and cauldron (metaphors for the body’s energy centers) are merely provisional names. People become lost by clinging to outward movement and stillness, falling into superficial methods. In truth, the innate Dao (the fundamental order of the cosmos) is present in everyday life—it manifests even in wearing clothes and eating meals. When interacting with others, one should maintain inner clarity, acting naturally without forced effort. Cultivation is not about seeking Buddhahood or immortality, nor is it about obsessing over external forms—the key is recognizing one’s original mind.

The second poem, dedicated to Baochanzi, reveals that the profundity of Buddhist and Daoist practice lies in inner sincerity. The so-called true lead and true mercury (Neidan terms) are actually the harmonization of nature (Xing) and emotion (Qing). When emotions return to their original nature, it is like lead and mercury fusing, spontaneously forming the "great medicine" (the perfected inner elixir). During practice, one must skillfully regulate the "firing times" (the control of breath and intention). When the Mysterious Pass (a vital energy point in the body) opens, a radiant light appears above the head, and when merit is complete, one attains the Dao.

The third poem, dedicated to Layman Liu, teaches that cultivation is possible even amid worldly life. As long as the mind remains centered and upright, it makes no difference whether one is in a bustling city or a secluded mountain forest. Acting without extremes in daily life and preserving one’s innate authenticity is the highest skill. Cultivation involves gathering primordial Jing, Qi, and Shen (the three fundamental energies of the body)—when these three unite, the inner elixir is formed. When the "moon of wisdom" (symbolizing enlightenment) dispels the clouds of delusion, one comprehends the ultimate truth.

The fourth poem, dedicated to Zhang Meng’an, uses the Book of Changes hexagrams "Return" (Fu) and "Youthful Folly" (Meng) as metaphors. When stillness is maintained to its utmost, wondrous existence (the manifestation of the Dao) appears within emptiness, and the body’s energy channels flow freely. Practice requires transcending distinctions between being and non-being, emptiness and substance, relinquishing external distractions to preserve the luminous original mind. At the moment of awakening, clarity dawns like the sun rising over the eastern mountains.

These poems emphasize that cultivation is about returning to the original mind, not adhering to external forms. Using Neidan terminology as metaphor, they explain the principle of "dual cultivation of nature and life" (Xingming Shuangxiu), pointing to the path of spiritual practice within ordinary life.

The Zhonghe Ji (Book of Central Harmony) presents several passages elucidating the core principles and methods of Daoist cultivation.

The first passage explains that the Dao is the fundamental source, while methods are its practical applications. The key to cultivation lies in the original spirit (Yuanshen, or primordial consciousness) and original Qi (Yuangi, or primordial energy), which constitute the true "celestial troops and commanders." It advises the practitioner Dongchanzi to focus on stillness and stability: anchoring the foundation in the Dantian (energy center), using the body’s cavities as passageways, and employing talismans (Fulu) as supplementary aids. When essence (Jing) and Qi are firmly consolidated, one can harness natural forces and subdue malevolent influences. Upon completing the practice, immortality is effortlessly attained.

The second passage highlights that while Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism differ in terminology, their underlying principles converge. Meditation and enlightenment lead back to the origin. Understanding the mystery of "Oneness" allows the three treasures—Jing, Qi, and Shen—to coalesce, dispelling chronic ailments. Only after strengthening the body can one begin internal alchemy (Neidan). The crux of alchemy lies in the principle of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate), gathering the "mysterious pearl" (inner elixir) and using the water of Kan (kidney Qi) to nourish the fire of Li (heart-mind). By relinquishing greed and attachment, transcending sensory distractions, spirit and Qi return to emptiness. Seeing through all illusions, one attains the purity and transformation of an infant.

The third passage, dedicated to Bai Langu, describes the profundity of the Three Origins (heaven, earth, and humanity) as unfathomable as autumn waters. Before heaven and earth separated, all things were contained within the Great Mysterious True Water (primordial Qi). Grasping this principle reveals the fundamental movement of Yin and Yang’s ascent and descent. The moon (Yin), the panting ox (Yang), and the light-bearing clam (harmony of Yin-Yang) serve as metaphors for cultivation. Breaking free from conventional thought, one finds the realm of immortals everywhere.

The fourth passage explores the essence of the Dao, emphasizing the need to penetrate the mystery of the Three Origins, cleanse distracting thoughts, and stabilize body and mind so that Jing, Qi, and Shen naturally merge. Possessing these three virtues allows one to laugh at those who pursue superficial techniques. With a perfected and expansive mind and radiant virtue (De), one achieves the union of heaven and humanity, like the celestial lovers the Cowherd and Weaver Girl. Seeing through illusions and embodying the great Dao brings boundless freedom.

The fifth passage focuses on mind-nature cultivation, stating that daily practice involves nothing extraordinary—simply studying the Yijing (Book of Changes) and contemplating the wisdom of the Three Sovereigns (Fuxi, Shennong, and the Yellow Emperor). It underscores refining the mind in everyday life.

This passage from The Book of Central Harmony contains four Baiziling lyrics on Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, each dedicated to different practitioners.

The first describes the mental state during cultivation: The practitioner must let go of all distracting thoughts (the "three essentials" referring to Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit)), gathering and releasing subtle intentions—a state so profound even heaven and earth cannot conceal it. Past, present, and future vanish like fleeting stars, while the Dao, though formless, manifests everywhere. When the mind is purified, the light of wisdom (celestial radiance) naturally appears, akin to the mystical vision of a wooden puppet riding an iron horse backward across the Milky Way at midnight. In the clarity of moonlight, one realizes the carefree realm of water and clouds, ultimately transcending illusion to pay homage to the supreme deity (Xu Huang, the Void Sovereign).

The second, dedicated to Master Ye, explains Neidan practice: One must penetrate the mysteries of the "mysterious pass" (a crucial energy center in the body), seizing the pivotal moment when Yang energy first stirs at the winter solstice (the return of the solitary Yang). When the innate vitality (celestial water) awakens, immediately focus on gathering it (collecting the "lead"), maintaining a reverent and serene mind. Consolidate the internal energies (symbolized as lead, silver, cinnabar, and mercury) at specific hours, achieving the elixir through the harmonious interplay of Yin and Yang (taming the dragon and tiger, exchanging Kan and Li). Finally, nourish it with spiritual springs, and upon completing the virtuous work, one’s name will be inscribed in the immortal registers (Xian Lu).

The third outlines the sequence of practice: The "mysterious pass" is profoundly ineffable. When Yin culminates and Yang arises, it is time to gather the "lead." Within, it feels like thunder shaking descending waters—one must rein in the restless mind (the "horse and monkey"). In an instant, the dragon and tiger unite (Yin-Yang harmony), forming the initial elixir core, followed by refining the Yang spirit (the body beyond the body), growing naturally like yellow flowers and green bamboo. The ultimate state resembles fishing for the moon in water—indistinguishable between illusion and reality.

The fourth, for Scholar Hu, reveals the essentials of cultivation: To pursue the path of clarity and emptiness, one must embrace simplicity and poverty, abandoning fame, profit, and disputes. The key lies in mastering the "mysterious pass" (the elusive pearl), transcending conventional understanding (neither mind nor Buddha) upon realization. When emotions and thoughts dissolve, the primordial spirit emerges, illuminating all ten directions with boundless light.

The primordial spark of spiritual light is pure and flawless, without form, shape, or substance—neither swaying nor turbulent. It remains eternally upright and stable, utterly severed from worldly traces. This mysterious transformation permeates everywhere yet is subtle and elusive, its profound principles beyond ordinary comprehension. Only by relinquishing all distracting thoughts and worldly knowledge, allowing the mind to become completely clear and tranquil, can one perceive the true origin.

When essence (Jing), vital energy (Qi), and spirit (Shen) (the "Three-Five") fully merge, the mind becomes like the bright moon, illuminating its original source. This perfectly radiant nature is unchanging yet endlessly transforms all things. The spiritual light that manifests in stillness, akin to moonlight, can illuminate the mysteries of the infinite.

The essential method of cultivating the Golden Elixir (the core of Neidan, or internal alchemy) is not difficult to understand—the key lies in seizing the moment when Yang energy arises. In daily life, one must be cautious in speech and conduct when alone, not allowing the mind (symbolized by the Dragon) and vital essence (symbolized by the Tiger) to scatter recklessly. The mind must remain serene, the body upright and stable, and the intention continuously focused, never slackening. In this way, one naturally attains the profound and wondrous state.

The slightest misstep can lead to grave consequences, so the crucial points must be clearly pointed out. Like the earth-shaking rumble of thunder, establishing the alchemical cauldron (a metaphor for refining body and mind) is no trivial matter. Circulating the celestial cycles depends on the guidance of the Northern Dipper (symbolizing the body's central axis). One's original nature is inherently complete and luminous, while the foundation of life must be firmly rooted. By penetrating the mystery of "generating being from non-being," one can manifest the true form like the old toad (symbolizing the moon and pure Yin), attaining longevity equal to heaven and earth.

The primordial spark of spiritual clarity is originally pure and untainted. Attachment distances one by a thousand miles, yet realization can occur in an instant. When the mind is clear and free from the slightest dust, why fret over timing or direction (symbolized by Geng and Jia, celestial stems representing time and space)? Only by truly shouldering the responsibility does one realize there was never a fixed method to begin with. Its secrets defy verbal explanation, and no name can capture it—its value lies in intuitive understanding. The truth is grasped effortlessly, without even a needle's gap of obstruction.

Amid the clamor of human disputes and judgments, it is even more crucial to comprehend the profound mechanism of life and death (symbolizing the waxing and waning of Yin and Yang). Nurture that formless and imageless nature, forget the attachments of the physical body, and spiritual awareness will naturally emerge.

The shortcut to immortality lies in opening the Mysterious Pass (a key energy center in the body), where all paths converge. Aspiring practitioners must first establish unwavering resolve—enlightenment can come in an instant. It is laughable how lost souls refuse to seek guidance from enlightened teachers, clinging instead to misguided practices. No matter how much they refine their essence and energy, their efforts will ultimately be in vain.

Know that the Great Dao is broad and level, direct and clear—yet it still requires the guidance of a wise teacher. By understanding the principle of benevolent actions leaving no trace, the Mysterious Feminine (the gateway of Yin and Yang) opens and closes naturally. Maintain a state free from distracting thoughts, and the spirit (the Valley Spirit) will endure eternally. Through the ninefold refinement of the Golden Elixir (the complete alchemical process), one sheds the mortal shell and ascends to the Great Luo Heaven (the highest celestial realm in Daoism), roaming in boundless freedom.

This passage from The Harmony Collection (Zhonghe Ji) elucidates the core principles and spiritual attainments of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice.

The first section reveals the essentials of Neidan cultivation: the "True Earth" (spleen), "True Lead" (primordial Qi from the kidneys), and "True Mercury" (original Shen/spirit from the heart) must unite as one to forge the supreme Golden Elixir (Jindan). Practitioners must maintain effortless balance between movement and stillness while preserving mental clarity. Through this, they achieve the perfected state where form and spirit become wondrously unified, ultimately transcending life and death to merge with the void.

The second section, dedicated to a fellow cultivator, states that the Dao (Way) fundamentally defies verbal expression—steadfast resolve is key. When the heart remains unclouded and returns to the root, it mirrors the moon simultaneously reflecting across a thousand rivers. Realizing this truth allows one to "grow lotuses in fire" (symbolizing worldly cultivation), remaining unmoved in essence despite the shifting tides of time.

For Zhou Shouzheng, the third passage advises relinquishing ego-attachment rather than obsessively seeking immortality or deities. True practice lies in abiding peacefully wherever one is, undisturbed by external circumstances. Whether in remote mountains or bustling cities, guarding the three Dantian (energy centers) will gradually crystallize the inner elixir—the "spiritual pearl."

The poem Refining the Cinnabar Sand deciphers the mystery of the "Mysterious Feminine" (Xuanpin, the cosmic womb of Yin-Yang convergence): it denotes no fixed location but the primordial source of creation, pulsating with the ceaseless vitality of transformation.

The final teaching reaffirms the ineffability of the Dao—its realization hinges on unwavering dedication. Sustain the "true breath" (innate respiration) in unbroken flow, harmonizing with nature’s rhythms: wearing light robes in summer or thick quilts in winter. Such ordinary acts conceal profound subtlety.

The closing allusion references Buddhist scripture: "All Buddhas of past, present, and future arise from the mind." While many attribute creation to a divine maker, all transformations ultimately stem from one’s own heart.

I believe the transformations of heaven, earth, and all things originally follow no deliberate arrangement—everything arises spontaneously. Why? Because all beings possess spiritual awareness (referring to intrinsic consciousness), and since they have this awareness, transformation naturally occurs. Isn't this spontaneous evolution?

Observe all tangible things in the world—their forms originally did not exist. The emergence from nothingness is "creation" (zao); once form exists, it must perish, and after perishing, it returns to emptiness. This is "transformation" (hua). Such creation and transformation are the natural state of the material world. Yet that most fundamental "true nature" (original essence), though it exists, has no concrete form. Thus, it is neither created nor transformed—this is the true constancy of the Dao.

People often assume that without creation or transformation, there is only stillness and changelessness, unaware that within this lies a higher order of creation. Only those who are truly awakened can comprehend this principle. The awakened possess penetrating wisdom, seeing through the empty nature of all things, their minds transcendent and independent, thus unbound by the cycles of creation. Those who lack awakening become externally attached to bodily sensations and worldly changes, while internally drowning in thoughts—arising and ceasing endlessly with shifting circumstances. What the eyes perceive is called "form" (se, phenomena); what the mind receives is called "sensation" (shou, feeling); the memory of sensations is called "perception" (xiang, memory); the habitual repetition of memory leading to action is called "volition" (xing, conditioning); and the karmic consequences of such actions, whether good or bad, are called "consciousness" (shi, karma). These tangled karmic consciousnesses are the very root of samsara.

Only by freeing oneself from illusory external conditions, untainted by worldly defilements, unobstructed by delusions, and undisturbed by desires can one see that the nature of the five aggregates (form, sensation, perception, volition, and consciousness) is emptiness. Since the five aggregates are empty, where then is there any creation or transformation? This is the wondrous state of nirvana (liberation). Thus, it is said that creation and transformation ultimately depend on the mind—what doubt can remain?

The Daoist scriptures state, "Being and non-being mutually transform." The emergence from nothingness is creation, while the return to nothingness is transformation. They also say, "Reach the ultimate emptiness, maintain profound stillness, and observe the cyclical return of all things." This is how one comprehends the patterns of transformation through observation. Those who truly understand transformation are not transformed by it; since they are not transformed, how could there be new creation? Who but those of unimpeded wisdom can attain such a state? The awakened possess minds of luminous clarity, enabling them to see through the nature of body, mind, and worldly affairs—the "being" born of illusion ultimately materializes, and when matter reaches its limit, it returns, reverting again to illusion. Those who observe thus realize: the formless form is the true form, and nurturing this formless form leads to eternity; preserving this shapeless essence safeguards the true nature until one attains perfect purity.

This passage elucidates how practitioners of the Dao can attain transcendental states through inner contemplation and cultivation. The essence is:

When one's spirit (Shen) merges completely with the boundless cosmic origin (the vast primordial chaos), transcending all dualistic concepts (beyond relativity), one reaches the supreme state where even "emptiness" ceases to exist (prior to creation itself). However, those attached to external phenomena experience constant mental and physical agitation, plagued by scattered thoughts, thereby losing their original formless and imageless true nature, sinking into the bitter sea of samsara.

Authentic practice requires: gathering body and mind, eliminating distracting thoughts, preventing internal delusions from leaking outward while shielding against external disturbances. When both inner mind and outer environment become purified, this is called the "illuminating clarity" state. Progressing further, one must forget both internal attachments and external forms, allowing the true inherent nature to become as limpid and transparent as empty space—thus transcending the constraints of creation.

The Confucian classic Book of Changes states, "Without envy or craving, one invites neither calamity nor praise"—this describes the state of being unaffected by externals. Observing all phenomena from afar reveals their illusory nature; examining oneself closely exposes the emptiness of the five aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, consciousness). Severing external worldly ties while dissolving internal aggregates enables harmony with celestial movements and joyful acceptance of destiny.

Those who truly comprehend these principles no longer worry upon understanding life-death's essence, nor doubt upon realizing their fundamental nature. To achieve this state requires: recognizing that what constantly arises and ceases is merely illusory form; understanding that what creates distinctions is the deluded mind; seeing that what changes unpredictably are temporal conditions; knowing that what ultimately decays are worldly affairs. Mastering these contemplations constitutes the work of sages.

Lacking genuine insight, one drifts迷失 with external transformations. Only by maintaining fluid, unobstructed awareness can unity with heaven-earth and communion with all things be achieved. The phrase "circulating freely through the six voids" describes the unimpeded境界 of those who have attained the Dao.

This scripture expounds the core principles of cultivating the Dao and realizing one's true nature. It begins by explaining that the movement of heaven, earth, and all things arises from the transformations of Yin and Yang, yet this cosmic creation is ultimately illusory. Just as if Qian (Heaven) and Kun (Earth) ceased moving, the sun and moon stopped their courses, the six offspring (the six lines of the Bagua) wouldn't emerge, and the myriad things wouldn't manifest. The true great creation transcends specific transformations—it is the fundamental law underlying all phenomena.

The text emphasizes that the essence of the Three Teachings (Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism) lies in cultivating mind and nature. To study Buddhism and realize one's true nature (awakening to original essence), one must first establish firm resolve, using unwavering determination to overcome worldly habits and maintain inner clarity. The root of afflictions lies in deluded thoughts—when thoughts stir, all manner of troubles arise; when thoughts cease, afflictions naturally vanish. True awakening means transcending birth and death to reach the state of complete stillness (ultimate tranquility).

Modern people struggle to realize their true nature primarily due to two obstructions: "affairs obstruction" (entanglement in mundane matters) and "principle obstruction" (conceptual constraints of thought). To break through these barriers requires "great insight" (penetrating wisdom) and "great cessation" (complete stopping of deluded thoughts). Through wisdom's illumination, one sees that principles are fundamentally empty; through powerful mind control, all affairs become empty. Ultimately, one must reach the state where body-mind, world, thoughts, and emotions all come to rest—this is the highest form of cultivation.

The key to Dao cultivation lies in preserving original nature. Practical methods include: first using the sword of wisdom to sever all demonic obstructions (factors hindering practice), and the true fire (inner fire of cultivation) to eliminate the six desires; then employing meditative power to release emotional attachments and clear the burden of thoughts until the mind becomes perfectly pure and all external entanglements are fully relinquished.

The Zhonghe Ji (Collected Works of Central Harmony) discusses how to return to one's original nature through the practice of "forgetting." Those who truly preserve their innate nature remain unaffected by external changes, yet contemporary practitioners are often disturbed by emotions and desires.

To free oneself from the disturbances of emotions and desires, one must first eliminate the "mind of arising and perishing" (attachment to notions of existence and annihilation). When the mind no longer clings to concepts of birth and death, the body will likewise be unbound by them. To achieve this, one must begin by cultivating "no-thought" (non-attachment to mental constructs). When the practice of no-thought is perfected, one attains the state of "no-dreams"; when the stillness of no-thought is fully realized, one may even transcend the cycle of birth and death.

Three key stages are mentioned here: "no-dreams" is crucial for immediate cultivation, "no-thought" is essential for ultimate attainment, and "no-birth" (transcending life and death) represents the highest state. Reaching a realm beyond contrivance and transformation allows one to surpass the cycle of reincarnation. This is not achievable by ordinary people—only virtuous practitioners of high cultivation can attain it.

Confucianism speaks of "fully realizing one's nature" (exhausting one's innate potential) by manifesting luminous virtue (De) and resting in the highest good. Knowing when to stop brings stability, and stability leads to forgetting the distinctions between self and objects. The Book of Changes (Yijing) states in the Gen (Mountain) hexagram: "When stillness reaches the back, one no longer perceives the body; walking in the courtyard, one does not see others." This describes the state of forgetting the mind, forgetting the self, and forgetting external things. When all three are forgotten, how could faults remain? This is the ultimate meaning of "knowing where to stop."

Modern people fail to fully realize their nature because they are burdened by physical and mental desires. Where there is attachment, there are obstructions—these must be shattered with resolute determination. Resoluteness enables forgetting external things, while decisiveness enables forgetting the self. When both self and objects are forgotten, one fully realizes one's nature and abides in the Mandate of Heaven. This is not attainable through ordinary merit—it requires sacred cultivation.

Ordinary people often cling to this body as "self," yet they fail to consider: this body is merely a temporary convergence of causes and conditions. Before its formation, was there any form? Any name? Any "self"? After death, will there still be form, name, or "self"? Since neither before nor after does it truly exist, why stubbornly cling to the illusion of "self" in the interim?

In truth, body, mind, and worldly affairs are all illusory in nature. If we examine them through the three time periods—past, present, and future—we find no substantial existence: the past is obscure and untraceable, the present is a flux of fleeting thoughts, and the future will be the same. For ages, people have clung stubbornly to this grand dream, weaving the seeds of rebirth, thus perpetuating the endless cycle of life and death. But if someone awakens to the truth within this dreamlike realm and skillfully transcends it—is this not the mark of one who has attained the Dao?

This scripture consists of two main sections:

The first section expounds the essence of cultivation. Master Li Daochun (referred to here as "this venerable master") instructed his disciples on the crucial points of practice, emphasizing direct transmission from mind to mind. A genuine practitioner should embrace the present moment without clinging to past, present, or future, achieving a state where these three temporal dimensions merge into one. This realization brings great liberation—like sailing across the sea of perfect stillness (nirvana) or wandering freely in the "land of nothingness" (a Zhuangzi metaphor for transcendent freedom). Yet even this exalted state requires further breakthrough; only by completely shattering all concepts of emptiness can one attain true awakening.

The second section discusses the true meaning of "transcendent learning" (juexue). This is not about rejecting study, but rather about moving beyond the constraints of knowledge after comprehensive learning. Ordinary people often lose their way by chasing novelty, just as Laozi observed: "The further one travels, the less one knows." Authentic practice requires surpassing worldly understanding without being burdened by superficial knowledge. Daily cultivation should focus on inner realization rather than clinging to verbal teachings. While all methods have substance, obsession with transmission lineages becomes delusion. Practitioners must understand: without accumulated merit there can be no calamity; without increase there is nothing to decrease. Maintain the Middle Way—neither defiled nor pure, neither increasing nor decreasing—transcending the emotional extremes of anger and desire to dwell naturally in carefree serenity.

(Note: The "land of nothingness" originates from the Zhuangzi, denoting a realm beyond worldly concerns; "anger and desire" refer to Buddhist concepts of aversion and craving, representing emotional attachments to be transcended.)

This scripture elucidates the attitude of detachment and spontaneous harmony that Daoist cultivators should embody in their daily lives.

Practitioners neither deliberately pursue virtuous outcomes nor fear adverse circumstances, remaining indifferent to worldly successes and failures. Unfettered by fame and profit, they maintain equanimity toward all things, making no distinctions between refinement and coarseness, beauty and ugliness. They neither repay social obligations nor entangle themselves in sentimental attachments, thus breaking free from the web of human relations and transcending petty disputes.

Maintaining a mind of pristine clarity and empty stillness, they avoid blind worship of ancient sages while cultivating contentment without forcibly striving to become saints. Neither pondering this life nor the next, they relinquish fixation on the origins of existence. Let others attain Buddhahood or immortality—remaining untainted by worldly burdens, why should they fear the torment of karmic retribution? Neither clinging to "being" nor "non-being," they let reality and illusion follow their natural course.

Because their hearts harbor no preferences, they commit no transgressions. Birth and death, coming and going—all are utterly forgotten. Wherever they dwell, they require nothing superfluous, content in whatever circumstances arise. Hungry, they eat a bowl of rice; thirsty, they drink half a cup of water. When inspiration strikes, they enjoy spontaneous delight; weary, they simply sleep. Those who truly comprehend this principle need not seek heavens beyond heavens—all is luminously clear before their eyes, and their ultimate state naturally becomes radiant perfection.

(Note: "Karmic retribution" refers to suffering caused by cause-and-effect consequences; "unfettered and unobstructed" describes a mind utterly free and at ease; "radiant perfection" depicts a state of luminous completeness.)