《歷世真仙體道通鑑》Vol. 44

Zhu Taozhui was a Daoist priest from Lingquan Fendong Mountain in Yizhou, who held the position of Jijiu (a senior Daoist office). Though accomplished in his cultivation, he chose not to ascend to immortality, preferring instead to mingle among woodcutters and herdsmen, moving between cities and mountain forests while dedicating himself to saving and guiding people. Countless miraculous tales are told of him.

Legend has it that he attained the Dao (the Way) at Yuzhen Mountain in Shu (modern Sichuan) and authored works such as Inscription on Nourishing Life, Ode to Thatched Roofs, Song of Water Melodies, and Autumn Shaking the Courtyard, which primarily express the joys of reclusion and transmit the secrets of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. According to Shu Taowu, Zhu Taozhui once visited the official Wang Chuhui and, using his sword to till the soil, planted three flower seeds that instantly bloomed into three blossoms. He called them "Immortal Banner Flowers," foretelling Wang Chuhui’s future wealth and prominence. Later, Wang indeed served as military governor of three Shu regions and retired as Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince, fulfilling the prophecy. The people of Shu held Zhu Taozhui in great reverence.

Later, a painter named Xu was commissioned to paint Zhu Taozhui’s portrait but had never seen his face. One day, a ragged old man suddenly arrived with two youths, introducing himself as Master Song (Zhu Taozhui’s Daoist name). Changing into a yellow Daoist robe and a deer-skin cap, he tied his hair with a white jade hairpin, massaged his face to restore his youthful appearance, and stroked his beard until it turned black—transforming in an instant into a handsome man of immortal bearing. The two youths also changed, one becoming peculiar-looking and the other strikingly handsome. Stunned, the painter was instructed by Zhu Taozhui not to price the portrait above a thousand coins. Later, connoisseurs recognized it as an image of the Tang-dynasty immortal Zhu Taozhui, and demand for the painting surged. When the painter raised the price to two thousand coins, he dreamed of Zhu slapping him in warning and awoke with a crooked neck. Terrified, he repented and never overcharged again. People in Shu later hailed this portrait—painted by the crooked-necked artist—as a masterpiece of the revered Master Zhu. Zhu Taozhui was eventually posthumously honored by the imperial court as "Marvelous and Responsive Perfected Being."

(Note: "Neidan jue" refers to Daoist methods for cultivating Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit); "Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince" was a high-ranking official position overseeing the heir apparent’s education; "retirement" denotes an official’s resignation from service.)

In the late Tang dynasty, there was a Daoist with an unconventional manner and unknown origins, who concealed his name. He traveled to Chengdu and suddenly went to the Purple Ultimate Palace to call on Master Du Guangting, asking for a place to stay. Master Du agreed, but did not meet him.

The Daoist sold medicine in the market every day. Whatever money he earned, he spent on wine, and he sang only the lyric “Lament for the Autumn Courtyard.” The song expressed his sorrow that Shu was about to decline, like the plants in an autumn courtyard gradually withering away. But no one understood what he meant; people simply called him the “Daoist of Lament for the Autumn Courtyard.” Half a year passed this way, and Master Du still had not noticed anything unusual about him.

One night the Daoist returned very drunk. Late into the night, people could still hear his singing growing louder and louder. Curious, someone peered through a crack in the door and saw the room brightly lit with candles, its furnishings spread with fine brocade, and a banquet laid out with splendid vessels and tableware. Beside the unconventional Daoist stood two boys in blue robes, serving him wine as he sang. The onlooker told Master Du everything he had seen.

Master Du came to the door and said respectfully, “I, Guangting, have little insight. I never imagined that an Immortal of such high rank had descended here. I have truly been discourteous. Despite my own ignorance, I have come to pay my respects. I only hope to behold your immortal countenance and thereby dispel the barriers of the worldly realm.”

The Daoist said, “Why trouble yourself so? I’ll come out and see you now.” He told the two boys to gather up the banquet, vessels, and furnishings and pile them together. As they did so, the objects grew smaller and smaller at his touch, until they were no larger than a Fulu talisman. He put them in his hat. Then he pressed the two boys down until they were like puppets, shrinking them to just a few inches tall, and placed them in his hat as well.

When Master Du opened the door and went inside, he was full of delight, but saw only an empty room. He bowed to the Daoist and asked for instruction. The Daoist said, “Your cultivation has not yet reached completion. You should continue to refine your true heart. I now give you three wine cups and two jade candles. The cups are made from the pits of the South Sea’s flat peaches, and are about the size of wine cups. Strike them with something, and they ring with a clear, metallic sound. Their designs gather like a hundred flowers, their rosy light shines through, and they are lustrous and pure within and without. Keep them as tokens. Only after three years will you have the chance to meet again.”

With that, the Daoist transformed into a streak of firelight and soared away through the air.

Bian Dongyuan

Bian Dongyuan was from Luoyang. From childhood, he had admired the teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi. Later, he entered the Dao and became a Daoist. He traveled far and wide, making a living by selling medicine.

One day, he climbed Mount Song’s E Ridge and met a scholar. The scholar carried several books on a wooden pole slung over his back and also had a large flask. He and Dongyuan rested together beneath an ancient pine. Dongyuan asked, “Where are you headed?”

The scholar replied, “I’m going to Songyang to study…”

“If you know anyone, please ask your honored master to write a letter introducing me,” Dongyuan agreed.

The scholar then said, “There’s wine in the flask. How about letting your master have some?” Dongyuan replied, “I have always loved wine. I’m grateful for your invitation; it suits me perfectly.” He drank more than ten cups in succession and became drunk.

The scholar said, “I have a way to sober you up, but you must not be afraid.” With that, he picked up a wooden tablet and rubbed it for a moment. It suddenly turned into a sword. He then asked, “May I take your liver and make it into sliced meat?” Dongyuan was so frightened that he sobered up. He bowed low, kowtowing and begging for his life.

The scholar said, “You have the bearing of an immortal, but you have yet to encounter your destined opportunity.” He swung his sword and soared into the sky, leaving behind a scroll. He told Dongyuan, “Keep it safe, and come find me at Five Cloud Creek.”

Dongyuan opened it and found only a few sheets of paper, covered in colorful patterns, along with twenty small mallets for grinding tea. He could not understand what any of it meant. At the end of the paper was a quatrain:

We met by chance beside E Ridge,
Shared fine wine and discussed the mysteries.
I had meant to teach you the sword arts myself,
But you were confused and unenlightened; our fates had yet to meet.

Dongyuan lamented that he had not encountered his destined opportunity. His mind and spirit were unsettled, as though he had lost something. Wherever he went, he asked everyone he met, “Do you know where Five Cloud Creek is?” People thought he was mad, and most ignored him. After a long time, he returned to Luoyang. One day, drunk, he walked into the water and never came out. Later, visitors from the Hengzhou and Xiangzhou regions came to Luoyang and said that Dongyuan had sent someone a letter from the Southern Marchmount Abbey. His friends and family recognized the handwriting and confirmed that Dongyuan himself had written it. At the time, some people eager for marvels said that he had undergone “water release”—the Daoist legendary means by which an immortal departs this life by disappearing into water.

Li Zhen

The Daoist Li Zhen, whose origins are unknown, lived in seclusion on Mount Hua, west of Qizhou. Wang You was extremely wealthy and often kept a guesthouse where he received scholars from all over, with abundant food and drink and every comfort provided.

Carrying a qin and a medicine gourd, Li Zhen went to pay Wang You a visit. Wang You welcomed him into the guesthouse. Li Zhen asked, “You are as wealthy as a marquis and enjoy the life of a noble. Yet you are not a worthy man. Do you know that yourself?” Wang You smiled and replied, “Yes.”

Li Zhen continued, “You keep a guesthouse empty and prepare meals—is it to await worthy men, or to feed the hungry? If it is to feed the hungry, fortunately no one in the land is short of grain these days. If it is to await worthy men, I have not heard that you have attracted any. From this, it seems you are not a worthy man. You need not be surprised that I say so. I am only concerned that you have a reputation without the genuine desire to honor and treat worthy scholars well. If you can understand this, then my words will not merely…”

Yiyou was moved when he heard this. He rose and bowed once more, saying, “I have heard that people each have their own reasons for favoring what they love. Those who take a master among the School of Diplomacy must surely harbor ambitions to persuade rulers; those who study military manuals and strategy must surely have war in mind. I carry a qin and a pot of medicine with me—could I have no purpose in doing so?

“I carry the qin because I know it has an ancient, unadorned charm. I hope to use it to guide people back to simplicity and to reflect on the world’s shallow and frivolous ways. I carry the medicine pot because I know people suffer many illnesses. I hope to spare everyone some of their pain and help them enjoy lasting health. What is more, my qin is meant not only to transform myself, but to transform others; my medicine is meant not only to preserve my own life, but to preserve the lives of others.

“Though you can use your surplus wealth to help people, that is ultimately different from amassing wealth by extorting and exploiting others through unjust means. Still, this is only the ancient practice of the wealthy and powerful treating scholars with courtesy. To truly achieve this, you must distinguish the worthy from the unworthy; only then can you yourself remain safe and free of trouble.”

Yiyou bowed once more. The Perfected One then ordered wine to be brought, poured himself a cup, and drank. As evening fell, the Perfected One suddenly collapsed in a drunken stupor and departed. Wang Qian watched in secret and saw him transform into a great deer, which ran westward until its destination was lost from sight.

Zheng Ao (Ao, courtesy name Yunsou)

Zheng Ao was from Baima County in Huazhou. To avoid the personal name of Emperor Mingzong of the Tang’s grandfather, people came to call him by his courtesy name, Yunsou. In his youth, he learned quickly and excelled at writing. At the end of the Tang dynasty, he sat for the jinshi examination but did not pass. With the realm on the verge of chaos, he intended to withdraw from the world. At first, he planned to go into seclusion with his wife and children, but his wife disapproved and refused to join him. Zheng Ao therefore went alone to Mount Shaoshi to become a Daoist.

His wife wrote to him repeatedly, urging him to return home. He never read the letters, but immediately threw them into the fire. He cut off his ties to the world to this extent. Later, his wife and children died one after another. Whenever he heard news of a death, he wept once and then stopped.

He kept two attendants dressed in blue, a crane, and a qin by his side. Zheng Ao was on friendly terms with Li Zhen, a powerful minister of the Later Liang. Li Zhen wanted to give him an official post and stipend, but Zheng Ao refused. Later, Li Zhen was convicted of an offense and banished to the south. Zheng Ao then traveled a thousand li on foot to visit him, earning still greater respect for his character.

Zheng Ao heard that on Mount Hua there was a substance called “five-grain pine resin” that, after lying underground for a thousand years, would turn into medicine. It was said to drive away the “Three Corpses,” Daoist spirits believed to harm a person’s body and mind and report their misdeeds to Heaven. He therefore moved to the northern side of Mount Hua to search for the medicine. There he became a friend of the reclusive Daoists Li Daosheng and Luo Yinzhi; people called them the “Three Worthies.” Zheng Ao farmed for a living, while Luo Yinzhi supported himself by selling medicine. Li Daosheng knew a method of fishing without bait. He also knew how to turn stones into gold. Zheng Ao tested this himself and became convinced it was true, yet he never asked Li to give him any.

Both men loved drinking wine and were skilled at composing poetry and playing chess. They also enjoyed letting out long, ringing cries. They had a large wine gourd said to keep out both cold and heat. Wine stored inside it retained its flavor even after a long time. Every day they carried the gourd with them to places among flowers and trees, streams and rocks, where they drank and recited poetry.

Once, caught up in their drinking, they composed a poem in alternating lines. Zheng said, “In the heavens there is a gourd containing something unknown in the world below.” Luo continued, “When drunk, one tumbles down and vanishes into the clouds. Beyond the mist, who can say where the true realm of nature lies?”

After Gaozu of the Later Jin took the throne, he sent an envoy with an edict appointing Yun Sou as an Admonition Counselor, an official responsible for remonstrating with the emperor. Yun Sou pleaded illness and refused to take up the post, submitting a memorial to decline the appointment. The emperor respected him all the more, granting him the title “Master of Free Roaming.” He then allowed Yun Sou to retire as an Admonition Counselor and provided him with a monthly stipend.

Yun Sou once wrote a poem praising wine, thirteen hundred characters in length. Throughout the realm, people who prized his reputation copied the poem onto silk and gave it as a gift. Some even traveled thousands of miles to have painters secretly depict his likeness on folding screens. This shows how highly people esteemed him. At the end of the Tianfu era, Yun Sou died at the age of seventy-four. Xue Juzheng gathered his poems, compiled an index, and titled the collection Collected Poems of Nifeng. It has been handed down to the present day.

Li Shouwei

The Daoist Li Shouwei’s native place is unknown. He often traveled through Shu and was skilled at nourishing Qi—that is, regulating the breath and cultivating body and mind. He ate no food and walked as swiftly as the wind. He enjoyed drinking wine, spoke wittily, and cared little for decorum in his words or conduct. For this, people often looked down on him and made fun of him.

One day, he suddenly said to someone, “I want to travel among the famous mountains of the Five Marchmounts. I’m setting out now.” Someone asked him how to gain benefits, and he replied, “Human life is as brief as a moment. One should seek the true Dao and free oneself from the bonds of the world. As for breath cultivation, alchemical practice, eating lingzhi mushrooms, and abstaining from the grains, all these methods of cultivation have their benefits. Why confine your thoughts to techniques for seeking profit?” With that, he disappeared.

Someone took offense at him and reported the matter to the ruler of the puppet state of Shu. The ruler sent people to look for him, but they never found him. Much later, some people saw him in the regions of Liang and Song, while others saw him in the regions of Wu and Chu. His appearance had not changed at all. He told people, “I have just come from the Eastern Sea, and I still intend to visit Mount Heng in the south.” After that, no one saw him again.

Li Shouwei was close friends with Han Yu, an official in the Ministry of Rites. Han Yu gave him a poem that read:

“Your youthful face is unchanged, though the years have grown old;

Poor in your way of life, you still visit the homes of the powerful.

You have refined upright Qi, and your practice must be profound;

You have nurtured the Original Spirit, and your Daoist arts must be sound.

You wear coarse cloth woven from crane feathers,

And lean on a bamboo staff, your thin frame like a gnarled, withered tree.

Why insist on living in seclusion instead of returning?

Who knows how many places have already seen their peach blossoms fall?”

This man loved the practice of cultivation and called himself Zhenyizi. He was close to He Wuyun, who called himself Jizhuzi. During the Later Shu, he passed the civil service examination in the Classics and, after several promotions, became magistrate of Jintang County. He later met an extraordinary man and received oral instructions on alchemy. He wrote commentaries on the Yinfu Jing, a Daoist classic that treats military strategy and methods of nourishing life; the Cantong qi, a classic on alchemy; the Golden Key; and the Zhenyi Jue. He also drew talismans to treat the sick. The talismans he used were called Tie Shan Fu. He was skilled at producing long, resonant whistles whose sound resembled the cries of phoenixes; birds would gather whenever they heard him.

Meng Chang, ruler of Shu, summoned him several times to ask about the way to long life. He replied, “Govern the country through benevolence and righteousness, and your reputation will rival that of Yao and Shun and endure for all ages. This is the principle of long life.” He was later promoted to Vice Director of the Bureau of Sacrifices and Adjudicator of Shuzhou, where he acted in charge of military and administrative affairs. He died in the twelfth month of the seventeenth year of the Guangzheng era. Ten days later, his face still looked as it had in life. Later, someone saw him standing among the pines and cypresses on Mount Qingcheng, after which he flew away. This account comes from the Shu Taowu, a book recording the history of the Shu region.

Next is Tan Zixiao. He was a “Feathered Adept of the Golden Gate.” His family name was Tan and his given name Zixiao; according to one account, his courtesy name was Zilei. His ancestors came from Beihai, and his great-great-grandfather was a learned man in the Tang dynasty. Zixiao was born in Jinling. He had a tall, striking frame and an exceptionally refined presence and discernment. His gait resembled that of a tortoise and a crane; he had round eyes, a square mouth, and a raised brow ridge shaped like the sun. A mark on it formed the character “ji,” while a mark between his nose and upper lip formed the character “jing.” Everyone considered his appearance unusual and unlike that of ordinary people. He was well versed in most of the Six Classics, the writings of the various schools, and esoteric texts and numinous books.

He first became a Daoist priest at Mount Yusi in the south. Later, an extraordinary man taught him the arts of Kuigang Douji and watching lamps and sending out talismans. These arts proved highly effective, and he soon became famous across the rivers and lakes, with people flocking to follow him. He then went to central Fujian, where Wang Shenzhi, ruler of Min, treated him with great respect. Wang first bestowed on him the title “Celestial Master of the Dongxuan Cavern,” then appointed him Ritual Officer of the Left Street Daoist Registry and gave him the title “Master of Zhenyi.” An imperial decree praised his compassion for nurturing all things and his clear insight for reaching the spirits. Since he had not yet withdrawn to the immortal realms of the Ten Caverns and Three Heavens, it said, he might first assist the ruler in diligently attending to affairs of state.

After the Min kingdom fell, Zixiao returned to Jinling. When Li Bian, the founding ruler of the Southern Tang, heard of his reputation, he sent messengers to inquire after him along the way and summoned him to court. Zixiao responded swiftly and eloquently, delighting and impressing Li Bian. The ruler appointed him Ritual Officer of the Left Street Daoist Registry, presented him with Daoist robes, and bestowed on him the title “Master of Zhenyao.” In a decree, he praised Zixiao for cultivating De in the mountains and forests, nurturing his spirit beyond the world of ordinary life, freeing himself from worldly ties, rejecting fame and profit, and preserving the essence of the Dao.

During the Baoda era, he was also given the title “Feathered Adept of the Golden Gate.” Zixiao had long admired Mount Lu’s beautiful scenery, so he chose the Seclusion Cave on White Cloud Peak as his retreat. This was the former site where Crown Prince Zhaoming of the Liang dynasty had studied and written commentaries.

The present-day Qiyin Monastery stands here. He also built a residence at the south gate of Xingzhu City, where he could stay when coming and going; the present-day Shousheng Monastery is that building. The Later Lord of Southern Tang had long admired Zixiao’s noble character and summoned him to Jinling. Before long, Zixiao returned to the mountains.

In the summer of the sixth year of the Kaibao era under Emperor Taizu of Song (973), on the first day of the fourth month, Zixiao bathed, went into the hall, sat upright, and died. He was one hundred and fifty years old. At the time, someone saw a stream of cloud beside the cave, shaped like a dragon, rise into the sky and vanish. When he was buried, colored clouds and white cranes circled above his grave. The Later Lord sent an envoy with generous gifts.

In his early years, Zixiao had mastered Daoist arts. He was skilled at performing jiao, a Daoist rite in which an altar is set up to pray to the stars and spirits, and at observing the stars. He could also perform the Black Kill method, use the Yu-step, a Daoist pattern-stepping method, and make hand gestures; he was able to restrain ghosts and demons. He burned incense and submitted petitions on people’s behalf, prayed to avert calamities, and was also quite adept at predicting how long a person would live. When someone asked him to make a prediction, he would first bathe, then wait until evening before going alone to a tower. In a quiet chamber he burned incense, set up an altar, and performed the rites, then lit a lamp as a sign to verify the result. By dawn, he could tell how long that person would live, and his predictions were usually fulfilled.

He Jing, military governor of the Wuchang army, had a favored maidservant who angered him. He had her thrown into a well and drowned, but no one knew what had happened. In the early Jianlong era, He Jing fell ill and summoned Zixiao. At midnight, with his hair loose, Zixiao lit a lamp in a quiet chamber. He saw a female ghost, who told him why she had been wronged and was now causing trouble. Zixiao recounted everything to He Jing, who confirmed that it was true. Zixiao then wrote a talisman in cinnabar and sent the ghost away. He Jing recovered at once.

Zixiao had another remarkable skill. A nearby monk had built a pavilion by a stream, but a stubborn boulder stood in the way. The workers struggled for a long time but could not level it. Zixiao happened to pass by and said it would be easy to deal with. He made a hand seal, took water into his mouth and sprayed it onto the stone, then told someone to strike it with a hammer. The boulder crumbled into powder.

Zixiao lived through several dynasties and was repeatedly shown favor; the honors he received were comparable to those granted to Du Guangting of Shu. Yet he often declined rewards. Whatever offerings and funds for jiao rites people gave him, he used to attract worthy scholars, relieve the poor, and host visitors from near and far. As a result, he accumulated no wealth at home.

While Zixiao lived in the cave, Daoists from many places, drawn by his reputation, came to study with him. More than a hundred sought his instruction. He often explained the Zhuangzi and Liezi to his disciples, saying, “The Zhuangzi and Liezi are also books of our Daoist tradition. We read them closely in order to grasp and understand our true nature, and to recognize the principle that, at the root, there is nothing. Their teachings are in accord with Buddhism. If you read Buddhist scriptures alongside them, the meaning of the Zhuangzi and Liezi will become clearer still. When I was young, I read scriptures such as the Diamond Sutra and the Sutra of Perfect Enlightenment, so there is little about our original, true nature that I do not understand.”

People today call themselves Daoists and set themselves against Buddhists, not realizing that those who truly devote themselves to seeking the Dao do not act this way. What is more, some people pick up only fragments and scraps of Daoist teachings, imitate their outward rituals, and assume this is the Dao. In doing so, they fail to understand their true nature and stray far from the fundamental intent of Laozi and Zhuangzi.

For this reason, the library in the Zixiao Chamber contains books from the Daoist, Buddhist, and Confucian traditions. The Biographies from the Southern Tang record:

Tan Zixiao was from Quanzhou. He left home to become a Daoist priest while still young. At the time, a Daoist priest named Chen Shouyuan was digging the soil when he unearthed several dozen wooden slips stored in a bronze vessel. They were all Fulu (talismans and registers) of Zhang Daoling, and the cinnabar and ink looked as though they had just been written. Chen Shouyuan kept them but could not put them to use, so he gave them to Zixiao. Zixiao understood them all. He then claimed to have received Zhang Daoling’s Orthodox Method of the Heavenly Heart, a transmission of Daoist ritual arts, and said he could investigate ghosts and demons and cure illnesses. His methods often proved effective.

The kings of Min and Meng Chang both honored him, granting him the titles “Feathered Guest of the Golden Gate” and “Master of Orthodox Unity.” After the kingdom of Min fell, he withdrew to Qiyin Cave on Mount Lu. More than a hundred people studied under him. When the Later Lord heard of his reputation, he summoned him and offered him an official post, but Zixiao declined. Not long afterward, he died of illness at the age of over a hundred. Those who practice the Orthodox Method of the Heavenly Heart today all revere Zixiao as their founding master.

Huang Sun

There was a man named Huang Sun in Lianzhou who once served as a vice director. He lived during the Five Dynasties. The title of vice director was probably the office he held near the end of the Southern Han. Later, in old age, he retired from public life. One day he suddenly left, and from then on no one knew whether he was alive or dead. His descendants painted a portrait of him and made offerings before it. Thirty-two years later, he returned and sat on the steps of the main hall, calling for his family.

His son happened to be away, so his grandson came out to see him. Huang Sun asked for a brush and wrote on the wall: “I left the human world many years ago; on my return, all that people once knew has faded. Only the water in the pond before the gate still ripples as before when the spring breeze blows.” When he had finished, he dropped the brush and left. No one could make him stay.

When his son returned, he asked what Huang Sun had looked like. The grandson said, “He looked very much like the old man in the ancestral portrait hall.” Even today, the people of Lianzhou still tell this story. Many of Huang Sun’s descendants went on to become officials.

Old Wang

No one knows what era Old Wang lived in. During the Tianbao reign of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, a scholar surnamed Cui was serving as a county deputy in Bashu. As soon as he arrived in Chengdu, he died. Zhangqiu Jianqiong, the regional commander at the time, took pity on his young wife, who had nowhere to turn, and arranged a country house for her on Mount Qingcheng. Because the woman was beautiful, he also planned to marry her, but for a time could not think of a way. So he said to his own wife, “As the wife of a regional commander, why not…”

Cui Jianqiong held a banquet and invited female guests, declaring that women from anywhere within five hundred li were welcome. Delighted, he ordered his officials to notify the women within that radius and set a date for them to gather in Chengdu. He hoped to use the occasion to keep the late county commandant’s wife for himself, unaware that she had already married Uncle Lu.

Uncle Lu secretly guessed Cui Jianqiong’s intentions and had the county commandant’s wife say she was ill and could not attend. Cui Jianqiong flew into a rage and ordered his men to take a hundred cavalrymen and seize Uncle Lu. At the time, Uncle Lu was eating, and the soldiers had already surrounded his home. He remained at ease, chatting and laughing as though nothing were amiss. After his meal, he said to the county commandant’s wife, “Cui Jianqiong’s intentions are now quite clear. You have no choice but to go. Before long, someone will bring you plain-colored clothes. Put them on when they arrive, then go.”

With that, Uncle Lu mounted a mule and rode out. The cavalrymen tried to stop him, but could not; he rode away at an unhurried pace, and his pursuers could not catch him. Soon, a young boy arrived carrying a box of clothes: a blue skirt, a white robe, a green cape, and scarlet silk, gauze, and other fabrics, all unlike anything people had ever seen. The county commandant’s wife put on the clothes and went to Chengdu. The other women had arrived ahead of time, and Cui Jianqiong watched from behind a curtain. As soon as she entered, radiance seemed to surround her from head to toe. Her beauty was so overwhelming that no one dared look directly at her. Everyone present was awestruck and rose to bow to her without even realizing it.

Three days after returning from the banquet, she died. Greatly shaken, Cui Jianqiong reported the whole affair in detail. Emperor Xuanzong asked Zhang Guo about it. Zhang Guo said he knew what had happened but did not dare to explain, and suggested that the emperor ask Elder Wang of Mount Qingcheng. Xuanzong immediately issued an edict ordering Cui Jianqiong to find Elder Wang and bring him to the palace.

Cui Jianqiong searched all over Mount Qingcheng, both its front and rear slopes, but could not find the man. Only the people at the herbal medicine shops in the village market said that two men often came each day to sell Chinese yams, claiming they had been sent by Elder Wang. When the two appeared, Cui Jianqiong ordered an official to follow them into the mountain. After walking several li, they came to a thatched hut, where they saw a white-haired old man sitting cross-legged. The official went in and conveyed the edict and Cui Jianqiong’s message. Elder Wang said, “That must be the talkative little immortal Zhang Guo.” He then arranged with Cui Jianqiong a date to go to the capital.

Elder Wang first had someone submit a memorial, but refused to travel by post station carriage or horses. Cui Jianqiong made the arrangements as he requested. The messenger had only just arrived at the Silver Terrace when Elder Wang arrived as well. Xuanzong summoned him at once. Zhang Guo was then attending the emperor; the moment he saw Elder Wang, he was overcome with fear and bowed repeatedly. Elder Wang scolded him: “You little rascal, why didn’t you handle this yourself? Why make me come all this way?” Zhang Guo replied, “This little immortal did not dare act on his own and could only await the instructions of the Immortal Elder.” The original text is incomplete here.

At the end of the previous passage, it was mentioned that a certain “second uncle,” surnamed Lu, was believed to be the storehouse keeper of Lady Taiyuan, a Daoist female immortal. He departed at once when someone called to him in the middle of his speech. He explained that the deceased military officer’s wife had a slight trace of immortal nature, so she had been taken in as a concubine. Later, she stole Lady Taiyuan’s clothes and wore them, for which she was punished and eventually died. Because she had worn Lady Taiyuan’s clothes, the officer’s wife had fallen into the Infernal Prison, the most agonizing of hells. After the report was submitted, she stubbornly refused to obey the summons. The matter was indeed judged in favor of releasing her, and after that no one knew where she went.

The Herb Gatherer

The story of the herb gatherer took place during the Xianqing era of Emperor Gaozong of Tang (656–661). In Qingcheng, Shu Commandery—near present-day Dujiangyan in Sichuan—there lived a man whose name is no longer known, who made his living gathering herbs. One day, at the foot of Mount Qingcheng, he came upon an unusual medicinal plant and began to dig it up. He dug down several zhang, but the root grew larger and larger, until it was as thick as a storage jar. He kept digging, going deeper and deeper. At a depth of five or six zhang, the ground continued to collapse beneath him. At last, after he had dug more than ten zhang down, he fell in and found no way out. Looking up, he saw the opening was no bigger than a star, and thought he was certain to die.

Suddenly, he spotted a cave nearby. He crawled inside, and the passage gradually widened. After crawling forward for several dozen paces, he saw a faint light ahead and followed it for more than a li. The passage then grew taller, just high enough for him to walk hunched over. After another two li or so, he emerged from a cave entrance. Outside ran a body of water several dozen paces across. On the opposite bank stood several dozen households, with mulberry and paper mulberry trees, flowering willows, and other plants among the village homes, as if it were spring in the second or third lunar month. The men and women wore clothes unlike those of people today; farmers working the fields and children fishing were often in view.

Someone asked in surprise where he had come from, and he explained what had happened. They rowed a small boat over and ferried him across. He said he had not eaten for three days, so his host gave him a meal of sesame-seed rice—sesame being regarded in Daoist practice as a nourishing food—along with a broth made from cypress seeds and various pickled vegetables. He stayed for several days and felt his body growing lighter. He asked where he was and requested directions back to Shu. His host smiled and said, “You people of the world do not know of this realm. Since you have made your way here, you must have an affinity with the immortals. Why not stay for now? I will take you to pay your respects to the Jade Emperor, one of the highest deities in Daoism.” He then heard people nearby calling to one another: “Tomorrow is the Shangsi Festival, on the third day of the third lunar month. We can go and pay our respects.”

So they took the herb gatherer with them. Some rode on clouds and vapors, others rode dragons or cranes, while the herb gatherer walked among the clouds. In no time, they arrived at a city adorned with gold and jade, where palaces and towers were built of silver, gold, and precious stones. Everyone entered in turn to pay their respects, but the herb gatherer alone was left outside the palace gate. Beside the gate stood a large red ox with a very strange appearance. Its eyes were closed, and saliva dripped from its mouth.

The master ordered the common people to bow to the ox and seek the Way to immortality. After the ox spat out treasures, they were to take and consume them. The people did as instructed, bowing for a short while. The ox spat out a red pearl about an inch in diameter. Just as one of them was about to rise, a red-clothed child suddenly came and carried the pearl away.

The people then obtained a blue pearl, but in the blink of an eye a blue-clothed child took it. After that, yellow and white pearls were also snatched away by children. In haste, one of the people put his hand to the ox’s mouth. Before long, he obtained a black pearl and swallowed it himself. When the black-clothed child arrived, there was nothing left to see; the pearl remained with that one person alone.

The people were then taken to pay their respects to the Jade Emperor, a revered Daoist deity. The Jade Emperor sat in a hall with the bearing of a ruler. Attendants stood in rows on either side, while hundreds of Jade Maidens served and guarded the courtyard. The hall held unusual flowers and fruits with a rich fragrance, unlike anything found in the human world. The Jade Emperor asked the man what had happened. He answered truthfully and asked to return home. The Jade Emperor bestowed on him a golden spear—a long-handled weapon—and said that it contained medicine he could take out and consume.

At that moment, a flock of wild geese flew across the sky. The people asked the man whether he could see them and told him to follow them away. They lifted him up, and he rose into the air and joined the flock. The geese were not startled; they flew with him. Looking back, he could still see the people on the shore clasping their hands in farewell. After flying about a hundred li, he arrived in a city and saw many people there. Only after asking did he learn that this was Linhai County, far from Shu.

A year later, the man returned to Shu. It was then the end of the Kaiyuan era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, and no one at home recognized him. A man over ninety years old said that his own grandfather had gone out to gather herbs and never returned, ninety years earlier. It turned out that the man was his grandson. Grandfather and grandson embraced and wept bitterly. The grandson told him that his aunt and uncle had both died; the daughter born to him that year had married and later died as well; and his own children and grandchildren were now over fifty years old. They went to look for the old home, but found only ruins and wasteland. Only the old stone anvil remained.

The man smashed open the golden spear to look for the medicine, but it was gone. He lifted the stone anvil and found a jade box beneath it. Inside was a Golden Elixir, a Daoist alchemical preparation, which he swallowed. At once, his mind became clear, and he remembered the way he had come. This is how the man attained the Way in the immortal grotto. Ordinary people could not ask him about the matter in detail. At the time, Celestial Master Luo, a respectful title for a Daoist priest, heard him recount his origins in Shu and said that the place was the Fifth Grotto, “Heaven of the Nine Chambers of the Immortal Treasure,” one of the Daoist realms of grotto-heavens and blessed lands.

The Jade Emperor is the Celestial Emperor. The great ox was actually a Li Dragon (black dragon). The pearls it spat out were red, and swallowing one brought a lifespan as long as Heaven and Earth; a blue one granted a life of fifty thousand years, a white one ten thousand years, and a black one five thousand years. Even an ordinary person who could not learn the Dao could live among humans for five thousand years after swallowing a black pearl. At that moment, seven people stood before them: they were the Seven Stars of the Northern Dipper. After taking the medicine, those people entered the mountains and were never seen again.

Yang Tongyou

Yang Tongyou was originally named Shiwu and came from Shifang in Guanghan. As a child, he met a Daoist and learned the art of summoning through proclamations and talismans, a method for calling upon spirits. He also received the celestial teachings of the Three Sovereigns and became able to command ghosts and spirits; whenever he summoned them, they responded at once. He was skilled in driving out epidemics and baleful influences, dispelling demons, praying for relief from floods and droughts, and bringing about wind and rain. Taciturn, free-spirited, and proud, he was not bound by worldly conventions. His unusual skills in the arts of divination were renowned far and wide. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang bestowed on him the name “Tongyou.”

Xuanzong asked whom he had studied under and what Daoist methods he had learned. Yang replied, “My master was Lord Wang of the South Pole, the Perfected of Qingcheng. He once taught me the art of summoning spirits in the mountains of Houcheng, saying that this art could assist a ruler who brings peace to the realm, and that only afterward could one cultivate the Way of attaining transcendence and ascending to Heaven. My master also admonished me to nurture my original Qi, speak little, and avoid looking about carelessly; to abandon the pursuit of fame and wealth, and stay far from the noisy world. Only then could I transcend the Three Realms and ascend to the realm of Great Purity.”

Xuanzong then asked what obstacles one might encounter when ascending to Heaven or descending to Earth. Tongyou replied, “One who has attained the Dao will not be burned when entering fire, nor drenched when entering water. Walking through the air is like walking on solid ground; touching solid things is like treading on empty air. However deep the earth, however vast the oceans, however far the eight directions, or however immense the heavens, one can arrive in an instant with a single thought. What constraint or obstruction could there be? This is because the body has already become one with the Dao.”

Xuanzong praised his answer. After living there for several years, Yang Tongyou climbed Mount Houcheng and prepared a quiet chamber at its summit. He would sometimes return home, and his disciples said that the Heavenly Perfected had descended to the chamber many times. One day, he departed together with a company of immortals.

Cui Wei

The jinshi degree holder Cui Wei once traveled to Mount Qingcheng. While riding his donkey, he dismounted to rest and let the animal graze on its own; no servant accompanied him. The donkey ran off, and Cui Wei could not catch up. After walking more than thirty li, he came to the entrance of a cave. By then it was dark, and the donkey had run inside. Afraid and exhausted, Cui Wei fell asleep.

When he awoke at dawn, he saw a faint light within the cave and continued farther in. After walking another ten li, he emerged from the cave. He saw towering trees and steep cliffs, all unlike anything in the human world. Before him were golden cities and vermilion palaces, with hundreds of people dressed in armor…

When the Immortal Elder saw Cui Wei, he demanded to know what he had come for. Cui Wei replied, “I am a humble man from the mortal world, and I wish to pay my respects to you.” The gatekeeper hurried inside to announce him. Only after a long while did the Immortal Elder summon him.

Cui Wei saw a man seated in the hall, wearing a feather robe. He stood more than ten feet tall, with a white beard and white hair. Many attendants stood beside him, each holding something. The Immortal Elder ordered Cui Wei to come up into the hall, and the two talked with great pleasure. The Immortal Elder invited him to stay the night, and served him a lavish feast.

The next day, the Immortal Elder said to Cui Wei, “This is not the human world; it is an immortal’s abode.” Cui Wei replied, “I still have family in the human world. I only wish to obtain a method for cultivating immortality; I have no desire to remain attached to the mortal world. Please let me return.” The Immortal Elder said, “You cannot stay here long, or you will suffer a very severe punishment.” He then gave Cui Wei a talisman and said, “I fear you may encounter trouble. This talisman can make you invisible. But be careful—under no circumstances should you enter the imperial palace.”

As they parted, the Immortal Elder gave him another talisman and said, “If you face an extremely urgent situation, open this talisman.” He then had someone bring Cui Wei’s donkey and handed it over to him.

When he reached the capital, Cui Wei tried entering several homes. Sure enough, no one could see him. He then went into the restricted grounds of the imperial palace. At that time, the region of Jiannan had sent brocade as a birthday gift for the Dowager Consort, and he stole several of the finest pieces to admire. The emperor searched for the thief all day without success, so he summoned Luo Gongyuan to perform a spell. When the ritual was complete, Luo Gongyuan took a talisman written in vermilion and used it to inspect the area outside the palace gates. In the end, he discovered Cui Wei’s origins.

The emperor refused to believe it and ordered Cui Wei beaten to death. Cui Wei suddenly remembered the talisman the Immortal Elder had given him when they parted and hurriedly opened it. Luo Gongyuan and the men sent to capture him all collapsed, frozen in place. Only after quite some time did they regain the ability to move. Luo Gongyuan then reported to Emperor Xuanzong: “This man has already returned to dwell in the upper realm. He cannot be killed. Even if we could capture him, we would bring disaster upon ourselves, and it would do the state no good.” Only then did Xuanzong release Cui Wei. He summoned him in person and asked, “You haven’t been making this up, have you?” He then ordered a hundred soldiers armed with weapons to escort Cui Wei back to the mountain and find out what had really happened.

When the party reached the mouth of the cave, they again saw the Golden City and Vermilion Towers, the palaces of the immortal realm. The Immortal Elder came out with his guards drawn up in orderly ranks and called, “Cui, my friend, you did not believe what I told you and nearly brought disaster upon yourself.” After Cui Wei bowed in thanks, those escorting him tried to follow him inside. The Immortal Elder drew his staff across the ground, creating a deep, wide ravine. He then tossed out a scarf, which transformed into a five-colored rainbow bridge. Cui Wei stepped onto it, and with each step he took, the bridge vanished behind him step by step. Once across the ravine, he turned back to the others and said, “You can return from here.”

Before long, clouds and mist rose everywhere, and nothing could be seen even at arm’s length. All they could hear were the sounds of luan birds, cranes, and sheng music. Half a day later, the clouds and mist dispersed. In the distance, all that remained was an empty mountain, with nothing else in sight.

Wei Gu

Wei Gu, whose courtesy name was Laoshi, was a native of the Kingdom of Shule. He wore a robe woven from coarse wool and had several hundred … hanging from his waist.

He wore a gauze headscarf and carried a staff made from the stalk of a goosefoot plant. He often traveled with a black dog.

During the reign of Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang, he came to the Central Plains and often used medicines to treat the sick. Everyone he treated recovered. Xuanzong greatly respected him and honored him with the title “Medicine King.” Later, his black dog transformed into a black dragon. He mounted it and soared into the sky. This took place in the twenty-fifth year of the Kaiyuan era.

The Daoist Who Feigned Madness

In Shu there was a Daoist who pretended to be mad. The locals commonly called him “Grey-Bag Lang.” He was a late-life disciple of Zhai Qianyou. Zhai often warned his followers, “Do not bully this man. I am no match for him.”

Once, amid heavy snowfall, he entered Mount Qingcheng wearing coarse cloth clothes. At dusk, he arrived at a monastery and asked the monks to shelter him for the night. One monk said, “This poor monk has only one robe, and it is so cold that I fear I cannot take care of you.” The Daoist simply replied, “It will be enough if you let me sleep on the bed.”

In the middle of the night, the snow lay deep and a fierce wind was blowing. Worried that the Daoist might have frozen to death, the monk went to check on him. He saw that the man was several feet above the bed, his body steaming with heat as if water were boiling, while he slept with his body bare. Only then did the monk realize he was an extraordinary being. Before dawn, the Daoist left without saying goodbye.

He often stayed in villages, and wherever he went, people came to trust him more deeply. Once, he developed sores in his mouth and could not eat for several months. He looked close to death. The villagers had long regarded him as a deity, so they held a Daoist Zhaijiao purification ritual to pray for him. When the ritual ended, he suddenly got up and said to everyone, “Look inside my mouth and see what’s there.” Then he opened it wide, as broad as a winnowing basket, revealing all his internal organs. Those present were astonished; they bowed to him and asked what they were seeing. He only said, “This thing is truly frightening, truly frightening.” After that, no one knew what became of him.

Old Wei

During the reign of Emperor Daizong of the Tang, Wei, an Imperial Censor, was ordered to visit the altar of the Yellow Emperor on Mount Hua. At an inn at the foot of the mountain, he met an old man and asked where the altar was. The old man knew the way. He also said that his surname was Wei and that his family had served as officials for generations. After recounting his family lineage, it turned out that he belonged to the same generation as Wei’s great-grandfather.

The two went up the mountain together. The old man walked ahead with a staff, while Wei rode after him on horseback but could not catch up. When they reached a stone chamber, Wei saw an old woman. She said, “I am your grandmother and your great-aunt.” The women wore their hair in double knots and dressed in leaves. Delighted, they said, “Generations have passed, and we never imagined we would one day see our descendants again.”

After Wei had paid his respects at the altar, he returned to the stone chamber to visit them, but they had vanished. People at the foot of the mountain said that the old man came every two or three years, though no one knew where he lived.