《歷世真仙體道通鑑》Vol. 35

The Dongyang Palace of Mount Heng lies northwest of Shilin Peak. It is where Perfected Master Shi subdued demons and met a Perfected One. During the Tang dynasty, Chen Faming came here by imperial order. Beneath the peak, he carved out a grotto, established an altar, and built a Daoist sanctuary. Local villagers secretly assisted him. Facing south toward Yunyang, Chen Faming paid his respects to the Perfected One morning and evening and recited the Great Grotto Scripture. Later, he took elixirs, attained the Dao, and passed away. The remains of that time can still be seen today, and in earlier times there were also hermitages and Daoist temple buildings here.

Wang Shiba

When he was young, the Tang chancellor Liu Yan was devoted to Daoist arts and pursued them with great sincerity. He searched for a long time, but never met anyone who had attained the Dao. He had heard that unusual people often appeared among the shops and stalls of marketplaces, because the noise and bustle made it easy to conceal one’s whereabouts.

Once, while traveling in Chang’an, Liu Yan happened to hear someone in an apothecary say that three or four old men often came there wearing gauze hats and carrying walking sticks. They would ask for wine, drink it, and leave; they also looked over the medicinal herbs, but never bought much. Liu Yan thought they seemed unlike ordinary people, so he asked when they would come again. The man replied that they would probably come the next day.

Early the next morning, Liu Yan went to wait for them. Before long, three Daoist priests arrived, just as expected. They filled their cups, drank, and chatted with laughter, enjoying themselves as though no one else were there. After a long while, one of them said, “Are there any people in the world like us?” Another replied, “Wang Shiba.” Then they left. Liu Yan kept the name in mind, but had no way to search for him.

Later, Liu Yan was appointed governor and traveled south, passing through Hengshan County. It was early spring, and the weather was mild. He ate a plate of cold noodles served with coriander, capillary wormwood, and other vegetables. Finding them especially fragrant and fresh, he asked the station official, “Are there any officials’ households nearby? Where did these vegetables come from?” The official replied, “The county has a government vegetable garden. The gardener, Wang Shiba, is skilled at growing vegetables, so the station often gets good produce.”

Liu Yan suddenly remembered the Daoist priest’s words about “Wang Shiba” and asked whether the garden was far away. The official said it was just behind the station. Liu Yan went to pay a visit. He saw Wang Shiba wearing a dudubi ku, a close-fitting pair of short trousers, and watering the vegetable beds. He looked like a man of the countryside. When Wang Shiba saw Liu Yan, he hurried forward to greet him, his manner respectful and somewhat tremulous.

Liu Yan then asked about his hometown and relatives. Wang Shiba said he had wandered from place to place, could no longer remember his home region, and had no family. Liu Yan became even more convinced that he was no ordinary person. He invited him to sit and offered him wine, but Wang Shiba firmly refused. After returning, Liu Yan went to the county office and requested that he be allowed to travel with Wang Shiba beyond the mountain passes. The county magistrate did not understand his purpose, and they prepared to set out at once…

Lord Liu sent Wang Shiba aboard the boat wearing shabby clothes and straw sandals. As they spent more time together, Lord Liu grew familiar with him. He even had his wife and children meet Wang Shiba and shared meals with him at the same table.

Wang Shiba’s appearance and clothes grew filthier and more ragged by the day. The family privately came to detest him. His wife said, “Can there really be anything special about him? Why do you treat him this way?” Lord Liu continued to care for him patiently and without complaint.

After the boat had traveled several hundred li, Wang Shiba came down with dysentery and was exhausted day and night. The cabin was cramped, and he stayed beside Lord Liu the whole time. The family covered their noses and could not even eat; they could hardly bear the ordeal. Lord Liu, however, felt no disgust at all. He was only sorrowful and distressed, and urged Wang Shiba to drink some hot broth or rice porridge. A few days later, Wang Shiba died. Lord Liu mourned and wept, saw to every detail required by the funeral rites, and buried him by the roadside.

The following year, Lord Liu’s term of office ended. On his way back to the capital, he passed through Hengshan County. The county magistrate came out to the outskirts to welcome him. Once they were seated, the magistrate said, “The man from the garden whom you took away has returned. I suppose he was sent back because he could not serve you.” Lord Liu asked in shock, “When did he return?” The magistrate replied, “A little over a month ago. He said he had been ordered to return.”

Deeply shaken, Lord Liu immediately went on foot to the garden. The thatched hut was still there, but it was empty. A neighbor said, “Wang Shiba left last night.” Lord Liu was even more grief-stricken and resentful. He went back to the hut, bowed once more, and left in tears. It was later established that the day Wang Shiba returned to the county was the very day he had died of illness on the road. Lord Liu sent people to dig open the grave. Inside, it was empty except for the clothes.

Several months later, Lord Liu reached the capital and took up a post at court. Once, he fell gravely ill and lay at death’s door. His family, wife, and children gathered around his bed, weeping and crying out without pause. Suddenly, someone was heard knocking urgently at the door. The gatekeeper hurried in to report, “Someone claiming to be Wang Shiba asked me to tell the family.” The family was both startled and delighted. They hurried to welcome him and bowed in greeting.

Wang Shiba entered Lord Liu’s bedroom with a smile and told everyone to remove the screens and medicines from around the bed. From the gourd at his waist, he took out three pills, each about the size of a small bean. He drew half a bowl of water through a reed tube, put the pills into it, and shook until they dissolved. After a while, thunderous rumbling sounded in Lord Liu’s belly. Before long, he opened his eyes and suddenly sat upright, looking nothing like the gravely ill man he had been.

His wife recognized Wang Shiba. Tears streamed down her face as she thanked him again and again. His children and the servants wept too. Wang Shiba said sadly, “I remembered our past bond, so I came to save you. One pill can extend your life by ten years. When that time is up, I will come again.” After speaking, he drank a bowl of tea and prepared to leave. Lord Liu tried to keep him, but he would not stay; Lord Liu then wanted to…

After giving him gold and silk, Wang Shiba burst out laughing again. Later, Liu Gong rose to the rank of chancellor and also oversaw the salt and iron affairs. But after an incident, he was demoted to Zhongzhou, where he lived for thirty years. One day, Liu Gong fell ill. Wang Shiba came again and said, “I would like to see the chancellor.” Deeply moved, Liu Gong invited him inside and earnestly asked him for medicine.

Wang Shiba said, “Your illness will soon be cured. Give me back my bottle of medicine.” He put one liang of salt into water and had Liu Gong drink it. Liu Gong immediately spat out three pills, exactly the same color as the one he had taken thirty years earlier. Wang Shiba asked for fragrant water—purified water scented with aromatic substances—and washed the pills. Liu Gong’s nephew, who was attending to him, seized the opportunity to snatch two pills and swallow them. Wang Shiba studied him for a moment, then smiled and said, “You have the innate disposition for cultivating the Dao. I knew you would snatch one to eat.” With that, he hurried away without another farewell. Liu Gong soon recovered. A few months later, an imperial edict arrived, and Liu Gong died.

Sun Deng

Sun Deng, courtesy name Gonghe, was from Ji Commandery. He had no family or relatives and lived in an earthen cave in the mountains north of the commandery. He excelled at long whistles, enjoyed reading the Classic of Changes, and could play a one-stringed zither. His disposition was calm, and he never grew angry.

Once, he went to Mount Yiyang. A charcoal burner saw him and, sensing that he was no ordinary person, approached to speak with him. Sun Deng did not respond. When Emperor Wen of Jin heard of him, he sent Ruan Ji to investigate. Ruan Ji met Sun Deng and spoke with him, but Sun Deng still did not respond. Ji Kang later also kept company with Sun Deng. During the three years they spent together, Ji Kang asked him about his plans, but Sun Deng never answered. As Ji Kang was taking his leave, he asked, “Will you really not say anything, sir?”

Sun Deng replied, “Do you understand fire? Fire is born with light, but if it does not use its own light, can that light truly serve a purpose? People are born with abilities, but if they do not use them, can those abilities truly serve a purpose? So, for light to serve its purpose, the key is to find fuel that will keep it shining. For ability to serve its purpose, the key is to understand what is true, so that one can preserve the full span of one’s life.”

Ji Kang then asked Sun Deng to teach him the zither, but Sun Deng refused. “You have much talent but little insight. In the present age, I fear you will find it difficult to keep yourself safe.” After Ji Kang took his leave, Sun Deng ascended to Heaven in broad daylight.

The Book of Jin, in its biography of Ruan Ji, records that Ruan Ji once met Sun Deng on Mount Sumen. He spoke with him about the past and present, as well as methods for quieting the mind, nurturing Qi, and cultivating the body and Shen. Sun Deng did not respond. Ruan Ji then gave a long whistle and turned to leave. When he had reached halfway down the mountain, he suddenly heard a sound in the valley, like the cry of a phoenix. It was Sun Deng’s long whistle.

The Collected Records of the Southern Marchmount’s Sacred Sites records that Sun Deng renounced wealth and rank, withdrew to the mountains to seek immortality, and even slept outdoors in the cold and ate grass to stave off hunger, devoting himself to seeking the Great Dao. He moved the heart of the Red Lord and obtained jade-sand paste, a legendary immortal medicine. After a long time, he entered a gathering…

The Record of Investigations into the Past says that Sun Deng once lived on Tiger Mountain, where he left behind a sacrificial wooden tablet used in rituals.

Ji Kang

Ji Kang, courtesy name Shuye, traveled north into the mountains and studied the zither with the Daoist Sun Deng. Sun Deng did not teach him. “You have exceptional talent,” he said. “One day, you will be executed in the marketplace.” Ji Kang then took his leave, and Sun Deng later ascended to heaven.

Ji Kang traveled south to Kuaiji, where he asked Wang Botong for lodging. Wang had built a guesthouse, but for less than three years after its completion, no one who stayed there at night lived to see the next morning. Thinking the place ill-omened, Wang often kept it locked.

On this occasion, Ji Kang stayed in the guesthouse. After the first watch, he took out his zither and began to play. During the second watch, he suddenly saw eight ghosts emerge from behind the guesthouse. Somewhat frightened, he softly recited “Qian, Yuan, Heng, Li, Zhen” three times—the divinatory phrase from the Book of Changes—then asked the ghosts, “It has been three years since Wang Botong built this guesthouse. Why does everyone who stays here at night die? Are you eight ghosts responsible?”

The ghosts replied, “We are not ghosts who harm people. We were eight brothers named Ling Lun, officials in charge of music during the time of Emperor Shun. Shun listened to slanderous ministers and unjustly had us killed, then buried us here. When the owner, Wang Botong, built the guesthouse, he did not know our bones lay beneath it. While building the walls, he sealed us in, leaving us stifled. When we see someone come to stay, we emerge to tell them what happened. They are so frightened when they see us that they die; we do not kill them. We hope you will tell the owner to move our bones and bury them elsewhere. Within six months, the owner will be appointed governor of this commandery. For now, we offer you a piece called ‘Guangling.’ It is the finest melody in the world.”

Ji Kang was delighted. He handed his zither to the ghosts, and after one performance, he could play the piece at once. He played on until late at night. At home, Wang Botong suddenly heard the beautiful music. He rose, threw on his robe, and sat listening in astonishment. He then asked Ji Kang what had happened. Ji Kang replied, “I saw the ghosts in the guesthouse,” and told Wang the whole story in detail.

The next day, Wang Botong sent people to dig up the ground, and they found eight skeletons, just as the ghosts had said. He prepared new coffins and moved the bones to a clean, elevated place for burial. Later, during the reign of Emperor Wen of Jin, Wang Botong indeed became governor.

Ji Kang later became a Gentleman of the Palace Secretariat, an official title. Emperor Wen of Jin ordered him to face north and receive an edict, and to teach palace women to play the melody. Ji Kang refused. Later, after listening to slanderous ministers, Emperor Wen had him executed in the marketplace. Ji Kang died holding his zither. After he was buried, the coffin was opened, but his body was nowhere to be found.

The account above is from the Book of Jin.

Ji Kang, whose courtesy name was Shuye, was from Zhi County in the state of Qiao. His ancestors originally had the surname Xi and came from Shangyu in Kuaiji. They moved here to escape a feud. Since there was a Mount Ji in Zhi County and his family lived nearby, they adopted “Ji” as their surname.

Ji Kang lost his father when he was young. Exceptionally gifted, he far surpassed ordinary people. He stood seven feet eight inches tall and had a handsome, dignified appearance, yet he was informal in manner and made no effort to groom or adorn himself. People praised him for the literary grace of a dragon and the bearing of a phoenix, qualities they considered innate. He read widely and understood nearly everything.

He married into the Wei imperial house and once served as a Gentleman of the Central Secretariat. He often studied methods of nourishing one’s nature and taking supplements, and found pleasure in playing the qin and composing poetry. He believed that the constitution of an immortal was innate and could not be attained simply by accumulating learning. Yet with a proper understanding of health-preserving methods, one might reach the longevity of An Qisheng or Peng Zu. He therefore wrote the Treatise on Nourishing Life. He often hoped to find someone with whom he could test and confirm his ideas. Only Ruan Ji, from Chenliu, and Shan Tao, from Hanoi, shared his interests. Later, Xiang Xiu, Ruan Xian, Ruan Ji’s nephew, and Wang Rong joined them. They often met and traveled together among the bamboo groves, and people called them the “Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove.”

Wang Rong once said that he had spent twenty years with Ji Kang in Shanyang and had never seen him show anger or pleasure. At times, Ji Kang gathered herbs and wandered through mountains and streams, forgetting to return home whenever the mood took him. Woodcutters who encountered him thought he was an immortal.

He once visited Sun Deng in the mountains of Jí Commandery and traveled with him. Sun Deng was quiet and self-contained, and never said much. When they parted, Sun Deng told him, “Your temperament is fierce and your talent exceptional. I fear you will find it hard to escape calamity.” Ji Kang later met Wang Lie and went into the mountains with him. Wang Lie once found a kind of stone marrow resembling maltose. He swallowed half and gave the other half to Ji Kang, but both portions hardened into stone. They also entered a stone chamber and saw a scroll of plain silk. Wang Lie hurriedly told Ji Kang to fetch it, but in an instant the scroll had vanished. Wang Lie sighed, “Shuye’s aims and interests are extraordinary, yet he never encounters the right opportunity. That is fate.”

When Shan Tao was preparing to leave office, he recommended Ji Kang as his successor. Ji Kang then wrote to Shan Tao to end their friendship. The letter said, in essence: “I have heard the words left behind by Daoist masters: that taking supplements and consuming yellow essence can prolong life. I believe this very much. Traveling through mountains and streams, and watching fish and birds, give me great pleasure; once I take office, I will no longer be able to do these things. How could I abandon what I love to do in order to do what I dread? For now, I only wish to stay in my humble home and raise my children. When I have time, I can catch up with friends and family, talk about what we have each been through, then drink a cup of unfiltered wine and play a tune on the qin. That would satisfy me completely.” After this letter circulated, people understood that he did not wish to be constrained by others and would not submit to worldly expectations.

Ji Kang was naturally intelligent and loved blacksmithing. In his home stood a willow tree with luxuriant branches and leaves, and he had water drawn around its base. Every summer, he worked at the forge beneath its shade. Lü An of Dongping admired Ji Kang’s refined bearing, and the two shared a deep affection. Whenever they missed each other, they would travel far by carriage, crossing even a thousand miles to meet.

Later, Lü An was falsely accused by his elder brother and imprisoned. During questioning, Lü An’s testimony implicated Ji Kang, who was arrested as well. Ji Kang was usually cautious and did not readily discuss right and wrong. Now, suddenly caught in the calamity of imprisonment, he wrote “Poem of Hidden Grief”: “Though my principles are upright, I have suffered humiliation; my loyal heart has been thwarted. Even if I bathe myself in the Canglang waters, how could that make up for the mistake at the outset?”

Ji Kang was poor and once worked as a blacksmith with Xiang Xiu beneath a large tree, earning their living through their craft. Zhong Hui of Yingchuan was a noble-born young man, quick-witted and skilled in debate. He came especially to visit, but Ji Kang did not greet him and continued hammering at the forge. After a long while, as Zhong Hui was about to leave, Ji Kang asked, “What did you hear that made you come, and what did you see that made you leave?” Zhong Hui replied, “I came because I heard what I heard, and I leave because I saw what I saw.” Zhong Hui consequently bore a grudge against him.

Later, Zhong Hui advised Emperor Wen of Wei: “Ji Kang is like a hidden dragon; he must not be allowed to enter government service. Your Majesty need not worry about the realm. You need only regard Ji Kang as a threat close to your heart.” Zhong Hui then falsely accused Ji Kang of intending to help Guanqiu Jian rebel. Emperor Wen of Wei therefore ordered Ji Kang’s execution.

As Ji Kang was about to be taken to the eastern marketplace for execution, three thousand students of the Imperial Academy petitioned to become his disciples, but the court refused. Ji Kang turned to look at the shadow cast by the sun, asked for a qin, and played it. He said, “Yuan Xiaohong once studied ‘Guangling Melody’ with me, but I was always reluctant to teach it to him. Now ‘Guangling Melody’ will be lost forever.” He was forty years old. Scholars throughout the realm mourned him. Before long, Emperor Wen of Wei, too, came to his senses and felt deep regret.

Earlier, Ji Kang had traveled west of Luoyang and lodged at Huayang Pavilion at dusk. He took up his qin and played. Near midnight, a visitor suddenly appeared, claiming to be from ancient times. He discussed musical modes with Ji Kang in elegant, lucid speech. The visitor asked for the qin and played ‘Guangling Melody’ with extraordinary skill. He then taught the piece to Ji Kang, swearing that Ji Kang must never pass it on to anyone else. The visitor did not reveal his name.

Ji Kang was skilled in discussing principles and also wrote well. He composed biographies and eulogies for exemplary men of antiquity, wrote the “Admonition of the Grand Preceptor,” and compiled the Yuanhai.

The following account says: Bao Jing, governor of Nanhai, understood matters of the supernatural. Xu Ning of Donghai became his disciple. One night, Xu Ning heard music from a qin in a quiet chamber. Struck by the unusual melody, he asked Bao Jing about it. Bao Jing said, “That is Ji Shuye.” Xu Ning said, “Ji Kang died at the eastern marketplace when he was executed. How could he be here?” Bao Jing replied, “Though Shuye appeared to have died, in truth he underwent ‘corpse liberation.’” (Corpse liberation is a Daoist term for an adept’s transcendence beyond the body, leaving behind a physical form or other remains.)

Dongguo Yan.

Dongguo Yan was from Shanyang. He took Lingfei Powder, a Daoist elixir, and could write in a dark room. His body would also shine, illuminating the entire room. He could see tiny objects on the ground dozens of miles away and make out their shapes and colors. Whenever he met someone, whether or not he knew them, he could foresee whether they would live or die. Events later proved his predictions correct. He lived in his home district for four hundred years without growing old. One day, dozens of people arrived in carriages to welcome him. His neighbors all witnessed this, and he said farewell to his friends and family, telling them he was going to Mount Kunlun. Then he departed.

Yue Zichang

The Perfected Lord of Qianshan was a distant ancestor of Yue Shi. The Record of All Immortals says that the Perfected Lord was named Zichang and came from the state of Qi. In his youth, he was fond of Daoist arts. He went to Huolin, where he met the immortal Han Zhong and received from him a Lingbao talisman and instruction in Jusheng Chisong Powder, a Daoist elixir. After taking the medicine, the Perfected Lord lived to the age of one hundred and eighty, yet still looked like a young woman. His nine wives also took the medicine.

Later, he entered Laosheng Mountain and became an immortal, dwelling in a chamber at Fangzhang. In Shenzhou, he received the Taixuan Sheng register through a Daoist ordination ceremony, signifying his Daoist rank and status, and he lived on the Five Zhi, miraculous fungi said to be elixirs of immortality. The Most High Lord Lao later bestowed on him the title “Gentleman of the Cultivation Gate,” a rank just below that of the gods. Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang once dreamed of twenty-eight immortals, whom he said corresponded to the twenty-eight lunar lodges. The Perfected Lord was associated with one of these lodges and attained the Dao at Qianshan, hence his title “Perfected Lord of Qianshan.”

Feng Gang

Feng Gang was from Yuyang. He often gathered the flowers of various plants and trees, soaked them in water, and sealed them with clay. He began preparing them in the first month and continued until the end of the ninth month. He then buried them for one hundred days, after which he simmered them into pills. If someone suddenly died, placing one of the pills in the person’s mouth would bring them back to life at once.

Feng Gang took this medicine for a long time and lived for several hundred years without growing old. Later, he entered Feidi Mountain and departed as an immortal.

Zhao Di

Zhao Di, courtesy name Zirong, was from Shangdang. He contracted leprosy, and his illness became so severe that he was close to death. Someone told his family, “Send him away while he is still alive. If he dies at home, descendants in later generations will often contract this disease.” His family therefore prepared a year’s supply of food and sent him to a stone chamber deep in the mountains. Fearing that tigers or wolves might attack him, they built a wooden fence around the outside of the chamber.

Zirong was grief-stricken and miserable, resentful of his circumstances, and wept day and night. After more than a hundred days, one night he suddenly saw two people standing side by side in front of the stone chamber. They asked him, “Who are you?” Zirong thought that since he was deep in the mountains and dense forest, ordinary people could never reach this place; the two must be spirits. He then told them what had happened to him, bowed his head, and begged them to take pity on him. The surviving portion of this scripture does not record what the two did next.

Within the village was a mass of cloud-like vapor, as if nothing could obstruct it. So he asked Zirong, “You surely want to recover as soon as possible. Then you should take medicine. Can you take it?”

Zirong replied, “I accumulated many sins in my past life, and so I have suffered this terrible disease. Now I have been abandoned by everyone and am on the verge of death. Even if cutting off my feet and slicing off my nose could save my life, I would willingly endure it. How much more readily, then, would I take medicine? I only ask that the divine immortal take pity on me and grant me the years of life I have left.”

The divine immortal gave him five sheng of pine resin and said, “Take this. It will not only cure your illness but also prolong your life, allowing you to remain in the human world for a long time.” After Zirong took it, his sores were completely healed before he had finished the medicine, and his body became light and strong. When he returned home, his family at first suspected he was a ghost. Only after he had recounted everything in detail did they rejoice. He continued taking the medicine. Two years later, his face gradually grew youthful, and his skin became smooth and radiant. He ran faster than birds and beasts. Though he considered himself to be over seventy, when he ate pheasants and hares he crunched even their bones, and he could carry heavy loads and work all day without tiring.

When he was 170 years old, one night as he lay down, he suddenly saw a light in the room, bright as a mirror. He asked those beside him, but they all said they could see nothing. After that, the light grew brighter each night, and within a few dozen days it illuminated the whole room, so that he could write at night. Another night, as he lay down, he saw two women on his face, each about three inches tall. They were beautiful and dignified in appearance, though very small, and played around his nose and mouth. This continued for about a year. They gradually grew until they were the height of ordinary people. They no longer appeared on his face, but stood beside him instead. He also often heard the sounds of zithers, which delighted him and made him rejoice inwardly. After living in the human world for more than 300 years, he still looked like a child. In the end, he entered Baodu Mountain and departed as an immortal.

Wang Xuanfu

Wang Xuanfu was from Pei. Together with Deng Boyuan, a man from Wu, he studied the Dao at Chicheng and Mount Huo. He received methods of cultivation that included eating rice prepared with green essence and swallowing the Elixir of Sun Essence and Vermilion Radiance. He also practiced “Inner Contemplation of the Cavern Chamber,” a method of visualizing the spirits within the body. After persevering for thirty-four years, he saw his five viscera through inner contemplation and could write even in the middle of the night.

On the fifteenth day of the first month in the first year of the Yonghe era under Emperor Mu of Jin, the Heavenly Emperor sent a feathered carriage to welcome him. Wang Xuanfu and Deng Boyuan rode clouds and dragons and ascended in broad daylight. He now receives immortal scriptures at the Northern Terrace of the Dark Garden and has been appointed Perfected Man of the Central Peak.

Yin Si

Yin Si lived during the Jin dynasty. On the night of the fifteenth day of the first month, he sat inside his house and sent his son to see whether there was anything unusual in the moon. His son said, “There may be a flood this year. In the moon, there is someone wearing a straw raincoat and carrying a sword.” Yin Si went outside to look and said, “That is not a sign of flooding. There may be a military uprising. The person in the moon is carrying…” The original text ends here.

Zhang Jie

Zhang Jie, whose courtesy name was Bayu, was a native of Fengchuan County in Fengzhou, Guangnan, in the Qi dynasty. As a young man, he studied the Confucian classics and displayed outstanding ability, earning the respect of those around him. Emperor Ming appointed him to office, and he eventually rose to the position of Minister of Works.

After Emperor Donghun ascended the throne, Zhang Jie lamented, “Honor is inevitably accompanied by disgrace, and this will obstruct my cultivation.” He therefore prepared a memorial and submitted it to the court, asking to resign and return to the south. He vowed to pursue longevity. For a long time, he paid close attention to the search for a suitable place to live in seclusion, cultivate the Dao, and nurture his nature and life. The emperor could not persuade him to stay, and the civil and military officials saw him off at the eastern gate.

After traveling for several dozen days, Zhang Jie arrived at Wenqing Post Station in You County. At the time, it had been raining heavily for many days, and the rain continued for more than a month. Then one day it suddenly stopped, and the sky cleared. He stepped out into the station courtyard and looked around. Suddenly, he saw a mountain rising high above the others east of the county town. Exceptionally beautiful and unusual, it was a sight unlike anything he had seen in his life. He praised it again and again, then summoned the station official to ask about it. The official replied, “I am young and do not know the mountain’s name.” Zhang Jie then asked for a local elder named Mao Guohua. Mao said that, according to what the elders had passed down for generations, the mountain was called Wenshui Mountain, also known as Zilin Mountain.

Zhang Jie found this extraordinary. The next day, he went to the foot of the mountain and said to the villagers, “From the county town I saw auspicious clouds covering the summit and purple Qi rising from the mountain. Immortals must be living there. This is the place I have sought all my life.” He then entered the Wenshui spring valley and built more than thirty thatched huts beneath Radiant Peak, where he settled.

His whole family observed purification and recited the thirty-nine chapters of the Scripture of the Great Cavern of Perfected Truth, a Daoist classic. In his daily life, he also joined the villagers in managing the waters and irrigating their fields, while observing the Three Hundred Great Precepts, the Daoist rules of discipline. He lived this way for nearly twenty years.

One day, a divine being came down from the mountain, leaning on a staff made of goosefoot. He said to Zhang Jie, “I am Ge Hongzi, sent by the Supreme Emperor to teach you the oral instructions for the Golden Elixir’s fire and vessel—that is, the method for refining the Golden Elixir. You should keep them secret and practice them, while quietly helping the poor. When your merit and practice are complete, we will meet again in due course.”

As the divine being reached the doorway, he added, “I often meet with nine immortal companions—Fu Qiu, Hong Ya, Chi Songzi, Wang Qiao, Su Dan, Ding Lingwei, Su Yin, and Yan Zhen—on the Immortal Peak. There we play the qin, play chess, drink wine, and savor fruit, enjoying ourselves in harmony with the natural Qi. Our whereabouts are uncertain, beyond the knowledge of ordinary people. Attaining the great Dao of the Golden Elixir enables one to transcend the world and become an immortal. You have received these oral instructions; you must never disclose them lightly.”

After hearing the teaching, Zhang Jie bowed low and offered his thanks. In an instant, the divine being vanished from sight, and no one knew where he had gone.

At the time, Zhang held the office of Minister of Works. He diligently observed purification rites and later mastered the art of the Fire Cauldron. He could transform rubble into gold, and secretly provided relief to lonely, elderly, poor, and sick people.

At midnight on the fourteenth day of the eighth month in the second year of Emperor Wu of Liang’s Tianjian era, Zhang suddenly heard a divine being calling his name from the sky. “Hurry and take your whole family into the mountains,” the being said. Zhang left only his maidservant Lu Qiong behind to guard the house.

Between the hours of the Dragon and Snake the next morning, Lu Qiong saw a Daoist descend from the sky. Covered in scabs, he asked, “Is the Minister of Works at home?” Lu Qiong replied, “The minister went into the mountains early this morning and hasn’t returned.” The Daoist then asked where the wine cellar was, and Lu Qiong showed him the way. He took off his clothes and stepped into a wine jar in the cellar, washing the scabs from his body with the wine. When he had finished, he put his clothes back on and left the cellar. As he was about to go out, he said to Lu Qiong, “When the minister returns, please tell him that the Daoist Ge came especially to visit.”

When Zhang heard that the wine in the cellar had given off an unusual fragrance, he was delighted. He told the household servants to lay out a feast in the hall and had everyone in the family drink the fragrant wine from the cellar until it was gone. Only Lu Qiong, the maidservant guarding the house, had secretly seen the Daoist washing his sores in the wine jar. She claimed to be ill and did not drink any.

After finishing the wine, Zhang ordered the servants to prepare hot water. He bathed, changed his clothes, and sat down, then summoned the village elders and his disciples. Afterward, he went into the mountains once more, burned incense, and climbed onto the altar. He said to the elders and disciples, “The Emperor of Heaven is about to summon me. It is not that I have grown tired of the human world.” As soon as he finished speaking, phoenix-like luan birds and immortal cranes danced through the sky, while auspicious clouds swirled around the altar. Zhang’s entire family, more than eighty people in all, ascended to heaven together in broad daylight.

Only Lu Qiong, the maidservant guarding the house, fell back down from midair. Zhang sighed and said, “You were not fated to become an immortal, so for now you must remain in the human world. When I see the Lord on High, I will plead your case and report it on your behalf.” On the eighteenth day of the eighth month, the Emperor of Heaven ordered the god Xuanwu to descend and guard the mountain boundary, and appointed Lu Qiong as the local earth deity to protect the mountain altar.

That same day, the village elders and disciples, including Chen Ang, wrote down what had happened and submitted their account to the county authorities. The county forwarded it to the prefecture, which recorded and verified the report before submitting it to the court. The court’s decree was then sent to the relevant officials. From that time on, the mountain was called Mount Sikong.

In the early years of the Yongjia era under Emperor Wen of Chen, two masters from Danyang, one surnamed Zhang and the other Ma, came to the foot of the mountain without giving their names. They told the villagers, “We are disciples of Zhang Sikong, and have come especially to find the place where he lived.” The villagers told them that Zhang Sikong had ascended to heaven with his whole family on the fifteenth day of the eighth month in the second year of Emperor Wu of Liang’s Tianjian era…

Heaven had already departed, leaving the dwelling empty, and no one dared live there. When the two masters heard of it, they were delighted. They went into the mountains to observe purification and cultivate the Dao. One day, their practice was complete, and fragrance filled the mountains. Woodcutters caught its scent but did not know where it came from. They heard only the clear sound of strings and pipes coming from the distant sky. Looking up, they saw the two masters each riding a cloud of auspicious vapors and mounted on a white crane, soaring into the heavens. (Today there are White Cloud and White Crane Peaks.)

On the night of the twelfth day of the fifth month in the seventh year of the Tianbao era under Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, the Bright Emperor (Tang Xuanzong) dreamed of the immortal altar on Mount Sikong. He established a shrine there, selected a virtuous Daoist to serve as its presiding master, and ordered incense to be burned as he cultivated the Dao. He bestowed on it the name “Zhu Yang Abbey.” In the seventh month of the third year of the Zhenghe era under Emperor Huizong of the Song, he changed the abbey’s bestowed name to “Yangsheng” and conferred on Zhang Xian the title “Perfected One of Great Simplicity.” In the eighth month of that same year, he further bestowed on him the title “Perfected One Who Soars Upward.”

Wang Zhongfu

Wang Zhongfu’s native place is unknown. From a young age, he was fond of esoteric arts. He often practiced methods for absorbing the essence of the sun and moon—“the two radiances” refers to the sun and moon—and consuming the vapor of rosy clouds. Yet after more than forty years, he still felt no benefit. His son practiced the same methods, and after eighteen full years, he ascended into the heavens in broad daylight.

Later, the Perfected One of Southern Mount Heng suddenly appeared before Wang Zhongfu and instructed him: “The reason you cannot ascend is that your body has serious deficiencies: your brain is depleted, the fluids in your sinews and channels cannot nourish you, and your numinous fluids—the inner fluids spoken of in cultivation—are being drained away. Even if you continue absorbing the essence of the sun and moon and consuming the vapor of rosy clouds, your body will not benefit.”

Wang Zhongfu followed the instruction, taking medicine to treat his illness while continuing his cultivation. After another eighteen years, he ascended into the heavens in broad daylight. He now receives registers in Xuanzhou and has been invested as a Perfected One of Central Mount Song.

Master Wang

Master Wang’s native place is unknown. A man named Yang Huizhi had lived for a long time in Andong and traveled through the regions of Wu and Chu. When he came to Wujiang, he heard that Master Wang possessed considerable Daoist arts and went to pay him a visit.

Master Wang wore a black headscarf and coarse cloth robes. He sat leaning against an armrest, with a refined and graceful air. Yang Huizhi bowed in greeting, and Master Wang returned the courtesy with a cupped-hand salute. Their conversation was elegant and lively, and before they knew it, night had fallen. It was the twelfth day of the eighth month.

Master Wang called over his daughter, named Qiniang. She looked like a woman in her seventies: her hair and teeth had deteriorated, and she walked bent over and stooped. Master Wang said to Yang Huizhi, “This is my daughter. She is lazy and has no love for cultivating the Dao; now she has grown old.”

Then Master Wang said to Qiniang, “Cut out a piece of paper for me in the shape of tonight’s moon, and stick it on the eastern wall of the room.” After a while, Qiniang did as he had said. Before long…

An uncanny light illuminated the entire room, making even the tiniest things clearly visible. The Master and Huizhi chatted, laughed, and amused themselves inside. The room was bitterly cold, as though they were suspended high in the air. At daybreak, as the two were about to part, the Master drew a line across the courtyard with his staff. At once, the dust grew dim and hazy. Huizhi looked again at the place where he lived: it had become a deep ravine among towering cliffs, with forests reaching straight into the clouds and an expanse of water stretching endlessly before him. Huizhi and the Master stood by the water, filled with fear and amazement. Huizhi said, “Could what I saw today mean that, while only one night has passed among the immortals, a thousand years have gone by in the human world?” The Master laughed and said, “I was only teasing you with this scene.” With that, he shook out his robe and swept his hand through the air. In the blink of an eye, the courtyard was back to normal. Huizhi hurried away, not daring to look back.

Zhao Lang

Zhao Lang, Zuo Ci, and others could all perform “Qi Restriction” (using Qi to cast techniques and alter things). They could make water flow backward for one or two zhang. They could also light a fire and cook food inside a thatched hut; the food would be cooked, yet the hut would not catch fire. They would drive a large nail seven or eight cun into a pillar, then blow toward it, and the nail would leap out. They would also bring water to a boil and toss about a hundred copper coins into it, then have someone reach in and retrieve them one by one without scalding their hand. They could expose water pooled in a courtyard to severe cold without letting it freeze, and make objects within a one-li radius remain cool even when burned by fire.