《歷世真仙體道通鑑》Vol. 45

Comprehensive Mirror of Daoist Immortals Through the Ages, Volume 44

Lu Sheng

During the Baoli era of Emperor Jingzong of the Tang dynasty, Lu Sheng often sold firewood, rough stone, and lime, making his way between markets south of Baiqiu. He would sometimes display unusual abilities, but people could not figure him out.

A merchant named Zhao Yuanqing enjoyed befriending extraordinary people and wanted to get to know Lu Sheng. He repeatedly bought his goods, and even pretended to take medicinal herbs and tea on credit, testing Lu Sheng’s skill at doing business and earning interest. When Lu Sheng saw through him, he finally said, “You don’t seem to have your mind on business. What is it you want?”

Zhao Yuanqing admitted, “I do know that you are a man who has hidden his fame and kept his De (Virtue/Power) deep within. Your insight is extraordinary, as though you can see good and ill fortune. I hope you will give me a word of guidance.”

Lu Sheng smiled and said, “First, let me see what you are like. A sudden calamity will befall your host’s household at midday. If my words come true, you can escape it. Go tell him this: shortly before noon, a cake seller will come carrying a sack with more than two thousand coins in it. This matter has nothing to do with you. All you need to do is shut the door and tell your wife and children not to answer anyone casually. When noon comes, curse him fiercely, no matter what. Then the whole family should go hide by the water. If you do this, you will merely waste three thousand one hundred coins.”

At the time, Zhao Yuanqing was staying with a man named Zhang, so he hurried back and told the household what Lu Sheng had said. The Zhang family had always trusted Lu Sheng, and they shut the door and waited. Shortly before noon, someone indeed came knocking, asking to buy grain. When no one inside answered, he grew angry and kicked the door. The Zhangs braced it with a thick bamboo mat. Before long, several hundred people had gathered outside. The Zhang family left by the back door with their wife and children and went into hiding.

Around noon, after walking a few hundred paces, the man suddenly fell down and died. His wife came rushing over, and the crowd told her what had happened. She believed her husband must have died a violent death because the Zhang family had falsely accused him. For a while, the authorities could not determine what had happened, so the crowd explained why the Zhangs had shut their door. The onlookers said to the Zhang family, “You are not at fault. You can explain his death.” The Zhangs readily agreed. Only then did the dead man’s wife say that a coffin and a hired funeral cart would cost exactly three thousand four hundred coins.

After this, people flocked to seek out Lu Sheng, as if going to market. Unable to bear the constant attention, he quietly left for Fuzhou and Huaizhou, and came to the gate of the country estate of a scholar named Lu. Someone told the scholar, “The recluse Lu is no ordinary man.” The scholar went to pay Lu Sheng a visit. At the time, he was preparing to travel to the capital to seek the help of an acquaintance, and asked Lu Sheng to judge whether the journey would bring good or ill fortune.

Lu Sheng said, “You must not travel this year. Sooner or later, I fear, calamity will befall you. Behind the main hall of your residence there is a jar of money covered with a wooden board. It does not belong to you. It has been there for three years now. You must be careful…”

“Even if you use just one coin, disaster will follow. Can you keep this warning?” Lu Xinran agreed and thanked Lu Sheng.

After Lu Sheng left, the water had still not settled. Lu smiled at his wife and children and said, “I did what Lu Sheng told me. What more could I ask for?” He then had a servant dig at that spot. Before they had gone a few feet, they found a wooden board. Beneath it lay scattered tiles, and under the tiles, buried money. Lu was delighted. He had his wife gather the money in her skirt, then found lengths of straw cord and strung the coins together—nearly ten thousand in all. Suddenly, his children began to cry out, suffering unbearable pain. Lu said, “Could the disaster Lu Sheng spoke of be coming to pass?” He mounted his horse and rode after Lu Sheng, apologizing and saying that he was willing to keep the warning.

Angrily, Lu Sheng said, “If you use this money, your own flesh and blood will suffer. Weigh for yourself which matters more: your family or your wealth.” Then he rowed away without looking back. Lu hurried home, performed a Zhaijiao (Daoist purification ritual), and buried the money. His children’s pain then subsided completely. When Lu Sheng arrived, Lu returned to his normal state.

Lu Sheng was once out walking with several people when they met six or seven richly dressed men coming toward them, reeking of wine. Lu Sheng suddenly shouted at them, “If you do not mend your wicked ways, your lives will soon be forfeit!” They all fell to their knees in the dust, repeatedly saying, “We dare not refuse to submit.” His companions were puzzled. Lu Sheng told them, “They are all bandits who rob boats on the river.”

Zhao Yuanqing said that Lu Sheng’s appearance sometimes seemed old and sometimes young, and that he rarely saw him eat or drink. Lu Sheng once told Zhao Yuanqing, “If a Daoist cultivator acquires the art of becoming invisible and can go twenty years without using it, he can change his appearance. This stage is called ‘departure.’ After another twenty years, his name will be entered among the ranks of the terrestrial immortals.” Lu Sheng’s deeds were often extraordinary; perhaps he was an immortal.

Liu Wuming

Liu Wuming was from Chengdu, a descendant of the Former Lord of Shu Han, and lived in Shu. He was intelligent from birth. When he was eight or nine, a Daoist passing by his home saw him and exclaimed, “If this child studies the Daoist arts, he will attain long life and become an immortal.” From then on, Liu Wuming took an interest in Daoist arts, studied profound principles, and cared little for fame or wealth. As an adult, he read the Dao De Jing and learned methods such as swallowing Qi (Daoist breathing exercises), paying reverence, and preserving the true (cultivating through visualization). He often kept watch over the Three Corpses (spirits believed in Daoism to hinder cultivation and record a person’s misdeeds) on days of the gengshen cycle, focusing his spirit and silently reciting incantations. He also took huangjing and baizhu, hoping to extend his life.

He once read in an ancient prescription that herbal medicines could only treat illness and had limited effects: when exposed to fire, they burned to ash and could not even preserve themselves for long. How, then, could they have the power to prolong life? So he traveled across mountains and rivers, seeking teachers and searching for Daoist arts. Several years later, he entered a mountain shrouded in mist, where he once encountered an extraordinary person who taught him to ingest realgar. After more than thirty years of this, he entered the cliffs north of Mount Qingcheng and found a cave. He walked for several miles, then suddenly felt that the cave had opened into a broad, level space, where almost nothing could be seen…

Immortals really do dwell in this world. When the Perfected Liu Qi of Qingcheng (a Daoist practitioner on Mount Qingcheng) saw people continually knocking and pleading, willing to teach them the essential methods and help them escape their decline and the suffering of life and death, he pointed out a room where they could stay. He then ordered them to fast and quiet their minds for seven days.

Afterward, Perfected Liu taught them how to make elixirs using the Yang furnace and Yin cauldron. He explained the formulas for refining soft gold and water jade, subduing substances found in water, and refining lead into mercury. He said that Hu Gangzi and Yin Changsheng had both received this method. It was also called the Scripture of the Divine Elixir of Nine Transformations of the Golden Liquor. The elixir had three grades: lead served as the sovereign medicine, mercury as the minister medicine, the Eight Minerals as supporting ingredients, and Yellow Sprout as the medicinal agent. Once the sovereign and minister medicines had been properly combined, the stages of firing had to be mastered in sequence. After seven days, the elixir became light water; after fourteen, it turned to purple powder; and after twenty-one, it showed five colors, red within and yellow above, with a shape like dust on a window.

The firing then continued for two years, with the stages of firing advanced in a set order each day. The process passed through the four seasons, and the elixir was refined anew at the winter and summer solstices. In the tenth month, it emerged from its embryonic form and became a first-grade elixir. Taking this first-grade elixir could make mercury congeal into silver pellets for treating illness. Taking it for more than two years could prolong life and turn white hair black. After three years of taking it, one could take a small amount and it was called “Knife-Point Powder.” It was said to enable one to travel among famous mountains and roam across the four seas. An Earthly Immortal who took half a dose could transform in countless ways, come and go freely while sitting or standing, ride a flying dragon, and ascend to heaven in broad daylight.

In general, after passing through sixteen stages, this elixir became the middle grade, capable of granting immortality. On the day the elixir was completed, the Five Metals, Eight Minerals, Yellow Sprout, and the sovereign and minister medicines had all fused together and were no longer mixed in disorder. After a thousand days of work, it was called the highest-grade Reverted Elixir. The elixir had to be kept carefully and not passed on to unsuitable people. It could be taught only to someone encountered in the world whose appearance, temperament, and record of cultivation all accorded with the Dao.

After receiving the elixir formulas, Liu Qi returned to Mount Wuzhong, built a dwelling, and practiced. Three years later, he succeeded in refining the elixir. In the third year of the Kaicheng era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, he was still in Shu. He recounted this experience himself and passed it on to later generations. He later entered Mount Qingcheng, and from then on no one knew what became of him.

Li Zhongnan

Li Deyu liked taking realgar, a cinnabar-red mineral used in Daoist alchemy. A Daoist who called himself Li Zhongnan lived on Mount Luofu. He told Li Deyu, “Your Excellency may take cinnabar pills, but taking too much will instead shorten your life.” As he spoke, he took from his robe a small jade elephant about the size of a fist and said, “If you want to obtain jade from Mount Goulu, place it beneath the elephant’s trunk. After the elephant swallows cinnabar, it will spit it out again; only then may you take it. This is the Sun…”

The essence of the golden elephant taken by Li Deyu had been condensed over thirty thousand years. Now I will lend it to you. As long as you remain devoted to loyalty and filial piety, it will bring you no calamity.” With that, he took out another golden elephant and said, “This is a female elephant; it can be paired with the jade elephant.” Zanhang inspected them one by one and found that they were exactly as described. After taking the essence, his face grew younger, and his beard and temples turned black as lacquer.

Later, Zanhang again asked the Daoist for unusual treasures, obtaining several hundred items in all. Some time afterward, he was transferred south to take up an appointment. As he passed Ghost Gate Pass, he encountered the Daoist, who said angrily, “You forgot my words. It is only natural that you have ended up in this state.” Zanhang quickly bowed low in apology. When he reached Crocodile Pool, the sky was dark with wind and rain. The jade elephant suddenly flew up from the boat, its blazing light illuminating the heavens; the golden elephant then leapt into the water as well. After Zanhang arrived at Zhuyai, he was overcome with sorrow and regret, and died not long afterward.

Only then did people understand that the “elephants” were the elephants of the south, that “Goulou” was a place in Zhuyai renowned for its treasures, and that “Luofu” was a mountain by the sea. Li Zhongnan was someone Zanhang could never measure up to. Here, Zanhang refers to Li Deyu. In the spring of the second year of the Dazhong era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, Li Deyu was appointed assistant military commissioner of Chaozhou. In the ninth month of that year, he was reassigned as registrar of Yazhou, where he later died in office. No one ever discovered which immortal the Daoist had been.

Willow Green

Toward the end of the Dazhong era under Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, there was an extraordinary man known as Willow Green. One day he suddenly died. After he was buried, people saw purple vapor rising from his grave. When they opened the tomb to investigate, they found nothing in the coffin but a green staff.

Li Hao

Li Hao, courtesy name Taisu, was of unknown origin. He lived as a recluse at Peony Terrace on Mount Qingcheng. He once traveled with Master Erzhu and studied under him, and he annotated the lyrics of “Bodhisattva’s Barbarian.” Li Hao also wrote one hundred “Poems on the Great Elixir,” which circulated among the people. Later, no one knew what became of him. Some said that his entire family had become immortals and departed.

One of his poems says: “Before Heaven and Earth had divided, I existed alone, encompassing the ‘Four Images’—the four basic forces that make up all things—and establishing Heaven and Earth. To refine the Returned Elixir, one must seek it here; only by grasping this principle does one enter the most wondrous gate.” Another says: “Boil stones and refine gold; cultivate the Great Origin. Immortals do not readily pass on these secret methods. If you can grasp the principle of ‘Nonbeing,’ you can seize the creative power of Heaven and Earth.”

These poems may seem outlandish, yet their meaning is profound. They were passed among fellow practitioners to answer questions about cultivation. The poems also say that the Flower Pool—a term for bodily fluids in Neidan practice—is in truth the water of the True Spirit, and that this spirit-water is originally white metal. White metal is then used to make the cauldron; once the cauldron is complete, mercury enters it and lies hidden there. Refined over the years in the golden cauldron, the mercury eventually produces numinous cinnabar, whose form resembles the Great Yin—the moon.

Zhang Ci

In the early Xiantong era under Emperor Yizong of Tang, the candidate Zhang Ci failed the civil service examinations. He later traveled frequently through the Jianghuai region.

A practitioner of the Dao studied Daoist arts, cultivated his original Qi, and could also go for long periods without eating grains. He wrote a poem:

“Alas, the Golden Crow—the sun, as the ancients called it—continually flies across the sky above me and cannot be made to stay. The red furnace burns in vain to refine elixirs; how can a beautiful face be kept from fading? This year the branches are full of blossoms; next year the leaves will wither. Better, for now, to drink wine from morning till night, and then from morning till night again.”

When someone invited him to drink, if they got along well, he would cut out two or three paper butterflies, blow Qi onto them, and send them flying in a line. Later, he went to Jiangnan and ascended to heaven. Before departing, he left these lines:

“Zhang Ci, Zhang Ci, it is not that I fail to understand the scriptures of the world; all the scriptures of the world are in my belly. My body drifts lightly through the human world, while my heart flies weightlessly beyond the heavens.”

Li Lao

Li Lao came from a family of physicians and was himself skilled at playing the qin. He said he had grasped the subtleties of Ji Kang’s (a celebrated Wei-Jin scholar and qin player) musical art. Once, while drunk, he accidentally fell into a dry well. As he walked on, he came to a cave entrance inscribed with the words “Cavern of the Mysterious Metropolis.”

He saw a Daoist and played the Guangling Melody (the name of an ancient qin piece) for him. The Daoist said, “This is a piece you composed; you are the former incarnation of Shuye”—Ji Kang’s courtesy name. The Daoist ordered someone to bring Li Lao stone marrow, a legendary drink of the immortals, and give it to him. Then he took a book with a white cover from a shelf and showed it to him. The book contained prescriptions for white pills to treat thirty-six kinds of wind disease. The Daoist said, “Take this home and prepare the medicine, so that you may heal people far and wide. When your merit is complete, return here.”

The Daoist told Li Lao to close his eyes. In an instant, he was outside the north gate of Qingzhou. When he returned home, his wife and children had already taken off their mourning clothes. The year was 876, the third year of the Qianfu era under Emperor Xizong of Tang. From then on, Li Lao prepared medicines and treated the sick, and every patient recovered. After several years, he lost his appetite and began abstaining from grains. Later, he went to search for the dry well and one day never returned. People supposed he had found the road to the realm of the immortals and had departed as an immortal.

Chen Yunsheng

Chen Yunsheng once entered Mount Longhu to cultivate the Dao. He lived during the Tianyou era of Emperor Ai of Tang, from 904 to 907. Later, someone saw him on Mount Magu. By then, he had been away from home for seventy years, yet he looked just as he had before.

The prefect welcomed him and provided him with a place to stay in the prefectural seat. One night, as they sat chatting, Chen said, “The oranges from Fengcheng are delicious. I miss them.” Before long, Chen Yunsheng brought back several hundred oranges. People of the time therefore called him an immortal.

Xu Que

The Perfected Xu Que traveled through Mount Heng in the south at the end of the Tang dynasty. He left a song on the wall of the Temple for Summoning Immortals:

“Refining in the Cinnabar Furnace concerns human life and destiny. The implements used differ, and each person’s allotted fate has already been determined. Demonic spirits and ghosts compete to display their powers, but can only disturb the deviant path; they cannot harm the orthodox way. A little child has only just learned to walk—who can know how the sun and moon rise in the east and set in the west?

“The sacred power of the myriad spirits can make the moon seem to be in the south and yet in the north. Jade is jade, and stone is stone; even when buried in deep mud, each will eventually be recognized for what it is. Deng Tong, favored minister of Emperor Wen of Han, died of starvation; Yanling, the Eastern Han recluse Yan Guang, lived in poverty. Can an emperor really always find worthy people to serve him?”

A steadfast man should not rush to attach himself to the powerful before he has found success, lest he squander his spirit.

“The Old Man in the Orange”

The old man in the orange was from the Baqiong region. No one knew his family name. His family had an orange grove. After the Frost’s Descent, when the oranges had all been picked, two especially large ones remained, each as big as a four-dou measure. The locals had someone climb the tree to pick them. Yet when they weighed the oranges, they seemed no heavier than ordinary ones.

When the oranges were split open, each contained two old men. They had white hair and beards, grizzled eyebrows, and rosy, lustrous skin. Facing one another, they were playing chess, each just over a foot tall, talking and laughing with ease. When the game ended, the two men each named what he had wagered. One said he had lost to the other the seventh daughter of the Sea Dragon God, ten liang of hair, twelve sprigs of yellow zhi, a purple silk shawl, and two doses of Rosy-Fruit Powder from Mount Jiangtai. The other said he had lost to his opponent nine hu of jade dust from Yingzhou, four zhong of the Mother’s marrow-healing, congealed wine, and eight pairs of dragon-patterned gauze slippers that the Mother’s daughter, Xiong Yingzi, used to relieve emptiness.

Later, one of the old men in the orange said, “Mr. Yu is still waiting for me to return to the thatched hall on Mount Qingcheng.” Another said, “Mr. Wang promised to come, but I’ve been waiting for him in vain. The joy inside the orange is no less than that of Shangshan. It’s just a pity that we cannot take deep root and settle securely within the orange.” Another old man said, “I’m hungry. I need some dragon-root jerky.” He drew from his sleeve a piece of plant root about an inch long, twisting like a dragon and lifelike in every detail. As he shaved and ate it, the root kept growing back. When he had finished, he sprinkled water on it, and the root turned into a dragon. The four climbed onto its back. Clouds and mist surged beneath their feet; in an instant, wind and rain darkened the sky, and they vanished without a trace.

“The Old Man by the Road”

Sima Peihang’s uncle was traveling from Luoyang to Zhengzhou. He dismounted along the way to rest and heard a strange sound by the roadside. Pushing aside the mugwort, he searched and found a sick crane among the brambles. Its wings drooped, its beak hung low, and its wings seemed broken. It had no feathers, and the sound it made was unusual.

Suddenly, an old man dressed in white and leaning on a cane came from several dozen paces away and asked, “Young man, would you be willing to take pity on this crane? If it gets human blood smeared on its body, it will be able to fly again.” Peihang had always valued Daoist cultivation and was noble in character and free-spirited. He replied at once, “I’m willing to cut open my arm and give it my blood. That is no hardship.”

The old man said, “Your resolve is indeed firm. But the blood must come from someone who has been human for three lives in succession. You were not human in your previous life. In Luoyang there is a gourd that has been reborn as a human for three lives in a row. Your journey is not urgent, so you can make a trip to Luoyang.”

Qian Hulu’s son Pei Xinran set out and reached Luoyang in less than a night. He went to visit Hulu Sheng, recounted the whole affair in detail, and added, “Hulu Sheng opened the bundle without the slightest hesitation. He took out a stone about two finger-widths across, pierced his arm with a needle, and let his blood drip onto it. Sure enough, he obtained the stone. Then he gave it to me.”

Pei Xinran said, “There is no need to say more.” When they reached the place where the crane was, the old man had already arrived. Pleased, he said, “It can indeed be trusted.” He then told Pei Xinran to smear all the blood over the crane, saying that this would form a bond with it. The old man invited Pei Xinran, saying, “Where I live is not far from here. You can stay for a little while.”

Pei Xinran felt that the old man was no ordinary person. Addressing him respectfully as “zhangren,” a term for an elderly man, he followed him for several miles until they came to an estate. It was surrounded by bamboo fencing, and its thatched cottages were plain; the courtyard and covered walkways were in disarray.

Very thirsty, Pei Xinran asked the old man for tea. The old man pointed to a small shrine containing an image of a deity and said, “There are some drinks inside. You can go and get one.” Pei Xinran saw a large vessel shaped like an apricot kernel and a bamboo hat, filled to the brim. He reached in and took it out. The liquid inside was white, and he lifted it with effort and drank. Afterward, he no longer felt hungry or thirsty. It tasted like almond milk pudding.

Pei Xinran realized that the old man was an immortal living in seclusion, and begged to serve him. The old man said, “You have a meager stipend in the world. Even if you did as you pleased, you could not fulfill your aspirations. If a worthy person truly gains something, I have been his friend for a long time, though you yourself do not know it. Now I have a letter for you to deliver. You will surely get it there.”

The old man brought out a bundle about as large as a bowl and warned Pei Xinran never to open it on his own. Then he took Pei Xinran to see the place where the crane had been wounded. Feathers had already grown there. The old man added, “You have just drunk apricot drink. Once you return, you will weep for your relatives across nine generations. You must also abstain from wine and sex.”

Pei Xinran later returned to Luoyang. On the way, feeling restless, he wanted to open the bundle and look inside. He saw a red snake poking its head out from each of the bundle’s four corners, so he did not open it. When he reached his uncle’s home, he handed over the letter and only then opened the bundle. Inside he found a little more than a sheng of something resembling sun-dried barley rice. His uncle later went to Mount Wangwu to travel and was never heard from again. Pei Xinran lived to the age of ninety-seven.

The Old Man of Mount Zhongnan

Chen Jiqing was from Jiangnan. After passing the jinshi examination, he went to Chang’an and did not return home for ten years. One day, he went to Qinglong Temple to visit a monk, but did not find him, so he rested in a heated room. As it happened, an old man from Mount Zhongnan was also waiting for the monk, and the two happened to sit together.

After a long while, Chen Jiqing noticed a painting of the “Map of the Realm and Its Lands,” depicting the mountains and rivers of the world, hanging on the wall. He traced the route back to Jiangnan across the map and sighed, “If only I could go home by this road. Even if I never achieve success, I would have no regrets.”

The old man replied, “What is so difficult about that? Break off a bamboo leaf from the steps and place it on the map where the Wei River is.” He then said to Chen Jiqing, “Keep your eyes fixed on it, and you will arrive.”

Chen Jiqing gazed closely. He saw the Wei River surging, and a large boat appeared on its surface. In a daze, he boarded the boat and rowed onward at great speed. When the boat reached the area around Chanku Temple, …

At that time, Ji Qing laid down his oar, chanted a mournful poem, and stood alone facing Lotus Peak. The next day, at Tong Pass, he inscribed another poem. Its final line read: “I have already decided to return in shame; that is still better than staying away in shame.”

More than ten days later, he arrived home. His brothers and wife came out to greet him, all delighted. After staying for two nights, he said to his wife, “The date of my examination is very near. I cannot stay long.” He then boarded a boat and set off again, composing a poem to bid her farewell: “The more wine I drink, the heavier my sorrow grows; the poem is finished, and I can only recite it through tears.” With that, he drifted away. His family were all astonished. In the blink of an eye, he had reached the Wei River and gone straight into Qinglong Temple. The old man from the mountain was still sitting there in his coarse cloth robe, and the monk had not yet returned. After thanking the old man, Ji Qing asked, “Could this have been a dream?” The old man replied, “In time, you will understand.” A month later, his family came to visit and told him the whole story in detail. The poems he had inscribed at the time were all still there.

Duan Gu

Duan Gu sat for the jinshi examinations several times. Later, he suddenly began to behave like a madman, chanting in the marketplace: “A thatched hut may be kept in decent repair, but let a fierce wind blow, and its eaves and brackets will splinter and sag. Before your eyes, the walls collapse into a heap of earth, yet the house’s owner will never return.”

Later, he died of illness. After he was buried, people opened his coffin to look inside, but it was empty.

The Deer Man

A man from Tangzhou was hunting in the deep mountains when he shot a deer. As he approached, he discovered that it was actually a person. The man said to the hunter, “I have lived in seclusion in these mountains since the beginning of the Sui dynasty. Today, I am fated to die by your hand. Just lay me on a rock.” The hunter agreed. Before long, the man breathed his last. When the hunter returned ten days later, the body had disappeared.

Liu Jian

Liu Jian was from Zizhou and was a man of the Dao. He wore plain clothes and a black headscarf, deliberately making himself appear dull and ignorant, yet he served his mother with great filial devotion. There was a pond beside his dwelling. One day, he suddenly helped his mother up the mountain. That night, a flood swept across the flatlands, rising more than ten feet deep. Only then did people begin to realize that he was no ordinary man.

Later, he moved to a place a few miles from the city, dug out an underground chamber to live in, and built a separate small house for his mother. Morning and evening, he came out only to look after her. Once she had eaten and gone to sleep, he returned to the chamber and sat quietly. He lived this way for more than ten years. When scholars and officials wanted to meet him, they would enter the chamber and sit face to face with him, but he would not say a word. He did not answer their questions either; he only said, “Hurry and cultivate. Hurry and cultivate.”

After his mother died, he completed the funeral arrangements. One day, he suddenly ascended into the sky and departed. No one ever learned where he went.

The Man in White

After failing the examinations, Deputy Commissioner Li of Jiangling went to Huayin, where he met a man dressed in white. The man asked him, “Would you like to know what will happen in the future?” He then wrote several letters, divided them into three packets, and gave them to Li, saying, “Open them only when you face an urgent difficulty.”

After sitting the examinations five or six times without passing, Deputy Commissioner Li was destitute. He said, “I can open the letters the Immortal Brother left me.” He burned incense and opened one. It read: “Go and sit outside a certain monastery in Qingzhou.” Li did as it said. Before long, the monastery’s abbot asked him, “Do you know the magistrate of Songzi? You look very much like his son.” Li replied, “He was my late father.” The abbot said, “Your father once deposited two thousand strings of cash at this monastery. I have kept the matter in mind all these years. Now I can give it to you and put my mind at rest.” Deputy Commissioner Li took the money and went home.

Several years later, Li still had not passed the examinations. “Perhaps this is all that is in store for me in this life,” he said. He opened the second letter. It read: “On such-and-such a day in such-and-such a month, ride slowly through the Western Market.” When the day came, he went to the Western Market. Someone told him that the examiner, a vice minister, wanted a thousand strings of cash and could arrange for Li to pass in return. Deputy Commissioner Li went upstairs to meet him, and the two made their agreement face to face. The following year, Li passed the examination, and later rose to the post of deputy commissioner in the Palace Service.

One day, Deputy Commissioner Li suffered severe heart pain and opened the third letter. It read: “On such-and-such a day in such-and-such a month, the deputy commissioner of Jiangling will fall gravely ill from heart pain and may put his household affairs in order.” Two days later, he died.

The Laborer from Fangzhou

A laborer working for the Yin family of Yinxian in Zhushan County, Fangzhou, was digging a well. The well was already more than a thousand feet deep, yet they had found no water. As he felt his way along the well wall, he unexpectedly discovered another realm, complete with sun, moon, and human society. He saw a plaque inscribed “Mount Tiangui.” Inside the mountain gate stood two young attendants with white teeth and black hair. They were barefoot and wore no caps. They asked him, “How did you come here?” The laborer recounted the whole story.

Soon afterward, a man in red conveyed an order to escort him out with due ceremony. Someone brought spring water for him to bathe in. He rinsed his mouth and drank from the sweet, clear spring, and felt as if he were drunk. After half a day’s journey, he reached a kingdom whose palaces and towers were built entirely of gold and jade. On a tower was written “The Kingdom of the Immortals by the Ladder.” When the laborer asked what kind of place it was, he was told, “Those who have only just attained the Dao and become immortals are sent here to cultivate for seven hundred thousand days. Only afterward may they go to the heavens and visit the Jade Capital, Penglai, Kunlang, and Gushe.”

The laborer then climbed the mountain to look for a way out. The gatekeeper told him, “You have been here only a short while, but more than ten years have passed outside. By the time you return, the original well shaft may no longer be there. I should submit a request to the Heavenly Court for the key to the Pass to Heaven, so I can take you back through the Gate of Heaven.” Before long, the laborer was among the clouds and had returned to Fangzhou. He asked the Yin family and learned that three or four years had passed outside. After that, the laborer stopped eating the five grains. In time, no one knew where he went.

Jiang Sou excelled at playing the long flute and could produce a sound like a dragon’s roar. Later, while staying at an inn called “Jade Plate Peas” in Minxiang, he slept one night beneath a large locust tree beside the road. In a dream, he saw a man several dozen feet tall. The man said, “People still think that the young deer plowing beside the locust tree is the incarnation of Bi Zhuo, the renowned Jin-dynasty gentleman.” Then he pointed at the tree and said, “The Second Lord from Jingshan Lodge has come to visit his elder brother.” As soon as he had spoken, Jiang Sou heard someone descending from the tree.

Near dawn, Jiang Sou reached Jingshan Lodge. In the courtyard stood a locust tree so enormous that it would have taken ten people joining hands to encircle its trunk. Suspecting that a spirit dwelled in the tree, he said, “I am devoted to the Dao, but have not found a teacher. If the tree spirit has power, please guide me.” The spirit replied, “If you go into Jingshan and seek the Immortal Master Bao, you will surely obtain the means to transcend the world.”

Jiang Sou entered the mountains and, just as foretold, met the Immortal Master Bao. The master asked him to play the flute. Jiang Sou played in one breath, its sound clear and ethereal, the five tones surging and ringing out like a spring bursting forth, wild geese flying low, dead leaves falling from branches, and light clouds emerging from mountain hollows. The master said, “Your skill is already remarkable. But you play a bamboo flute; now I will give you one made of fine jade. Play it for three years, and you will summon a dragon from its cave and obtain a Water Elixir. Take the Water Elixir and you will become an immortal of the waters. You will no longer need to take my elixirs, for you bear the signs of an immortal like Qin Gao, who is said to have ridden a carp into the water and become immortal.” Three years later, Jiang Sou indeed played his flute on the tower of Yueyang Temple and summoned a dragon. The dragon changed into human form and came bearing a Water Elixir. Jiang Sou accepted and swallowed it. His face immediately grew youthful; he could enter the water without getting wet, and in the end became an immortal of the waters.

Hong Zhi

There was a Daoist named Hong Zhi, though no one knew where he came from. In his youth, he was widely learned and well versed in the classics. He also had deep knowledge of astronomy, calendrical science, and medicine, and had reached a high level of skill, but remained unknown. Someone urged him to curry favor with powerful families in hopes of benefiting from their influence. He replied, “How could fine gold and beautiful jade be put up for sale like merchandise?” And so he never went.

Later, he came to believe that human life was like a dream or illusion, neither solid nor lasting. He therefore left home to become a Daoist and withdrew to Mount Lu. He often rode a blue ox through the mountains, and people called him the “Blue Ox Daoist.” He wore clothes of woven grass, ate coarse food, and practiced diligently, enduring many hardships. After a long time, he unexpectedly met an extraordinary person. Through his association with this person, he acquired wondrous arts. From then on, he mastered the Six Jia, one of the Daoist arts of divination; he could command ghosts and spirits and perform all manner of transformations. His deeds were too numerous to recount one by one.

One day, he returned to his native place carrying a small basket. The villagers did not know he possessed Daoist arts. Someone invited him to a meal, and the food on the table was soon eaten up. Hong Zhi took dried meat, roast meat, dates, and chestnuts from his basket and offered them to everyone. The people ate and asked for more until they were all full. Astonished, they pressed him to explain, but Hong Zhi only smiled and said nothing. That night, when he lodged at an inn, the weather was bitterly cold, yet people saw that he wore only thin clothing…

He had no bedding or clothes with him. Someone secretly peered through a crack in the door and saw him take a pillow and bedding from a small basket. He spread them out and lay down, with everything he needed at hand. At daybreak, he gathered the things and took them away. Only then did people realize that Hong Lang possessed Daoist arts. They all said, “Hong Lang is not a person like us.” They came to respect him and regard him as extraordinary. Later, he succeeded in making an elixir and departed as an immortal. People called the place where he had lived “Green Ox Valley,” and the ritual platform there still stands.

Sang Jufeng

Sang Jufeng lived in seclusion at White Deer Grotto. No one knew where he came from. He called himself a presented scholar, but described himself as “lowly and inept.” He was coarse-tempered and unsociable.

He once lodged at the Purple Pole Palace in Langzhou. One day, he bought pig intestines to eat and wanted to wash them by boiling water in a vinegar pot at the Daoist temple. The Daoists found this strange and refused to lend him the pot, so he ate the intestines raw.

It was a winter night, and the refectory had only one bed. Wind blew through the gaps around the windows, and the cold was biting. Yet Sang Jufeng took off his cloth shirt, hung it on a rack, and went to sleep naked without a care. Everyone was greatly shocked.

Later, he visited various palaces and temples to pay his respects to the Prince of Nanping. He wore a straw sandal on one foot and a hemp sandal on the other, and called himself a “wild man.” Someone asked what the phrase “zaolü bi’e” in the Zuo Commentary meant. He replied, “Put dates on a plate, then reach out and take one to eat.” In his other remarks, too, he usually answered in ways that had little to do with the question.

Later, he went to Jiangxia and remained as wild and unrestrained as ever. The military governor ordered an officer responsible for patrols and security to drive him out of the territory. When he reached Xingzi Pool, he sprang up into the air and flew away. A guest officer from Jingzhou, sent on a mission to Wuchang, reported in detail what he had seen with his own eyes.

After that, Sang Jufeng often appeared in the north. When visiting people, he always wrote on his calling card: “Sang Jufeng, a provincial presented scholar from White Deer Grotto on Mount Lu.” People often made fun of him, but no one ever learned where he went afterward.

Sima Jiao

The Daoist Sima Jiao was also called Ningzheng and Shouzhong. No one knew where he came from. He often traveled along the riverbanks, wearing a Daoist cap and coarse cloth clothes, and walking in wooden clogs. He could cover a thousand li in a day. Though he never changed his clothes, they always looked new. He behaved roughly and rashly, and no one dared approach him.

He could feign death: his body would even turn blue and swollen, then stink and decay, yet before long he would come back to life. He once lived at Kaiyuan Temple in Chizhou. On one occasion, he traveled from Xuanzhou to Shezhou. The Daoist Shao Xiumo was also heading to Shezhou and invited him to go along. Shao Xiumo slipped away ahead of him and stopped at an inn in a garrison town. Sima Jiao arrived first. Shao Xiumo hid and watched secretly. He saw Sima Jiao enter another inn, call the innkeeper over to drink with him, and soon afterward humiliate him.

At first, the innkeeper respectfully apologized to Jiao. Later, driven to the point where he had no choice, he fought with him, and the two began beating each other. Jiao suddenly fell to the ground. When people looked, they found that he was dead: his body was cold, and his complexion had changed. People from all over the city gathered to watch.

The crowd called together the local residents, tied up the innkeeper, examined Jiao’s body, and questioned the innkeeper, preparing to send him to the prefectural government. It was already late, so they planned to set out early the next morning. Around midnight, they suddenly heard a commotion inside the inn: “The Daoist Master Sima has disappeared!” Only then did they realize that Jiao had been pretending to be dead, and they released the innkeeper. Xiumo continued on his way the next day, traveling more than a hundred li. He deliberately asked people, “When did the honored Daoist Master Sima pass through?” They replied, “He passed through this morning.” The next day he traveled another hundred li and asked again, only to receive the same reply: “Yesterday morning.” When he reached Shezhou, he heard the same thing there.

When Jiao traveled among the prefectures along the Yangtze, he once stayed for a long time at an inn. As he was leaving, he told the innkeeper, “I can’t take the bamboo utensils I brought with me. Set them alight and burn them.” The innkeeper tried to dissuade him: “The wind is strong, and the bamboo hut is low and narrow. We can’t light a fire here.” Jiao insisted on burning them. When everyone joined in urging him to stop, he grew angry, set a fire inside the hut, then stood by the door holding a large club, striking anyone who dared come near. Jiao was very strong, and no one dared approach. Before long, the fire blazed, and flames shot through the gaps in the bamboo roof. Everyone was alarmed and afraid. When the fire finally went out, all of Jiao’s bamboo utensils had burned away. The bed where he had slept had been scorched by the smoke and flames, but the mat on it had not been charred.

Zhu Ao once served as a judicial officer in Chizhou. When Jiao visited him, he said, “You look unwell. I fear you are about to fall ill. After I leave, if you call me by my personal name while you are sick, I will respond.” Zhu Ao did not believe him. More than ten days later, he developed a high fever and became seriously ill. Suddenly remembering what Jiao had said, he thought the matter most extraordinary and kowtowed, praying for Jiao’s protection.

When Zhu Ao was ill, he usually disliked seeing anyone standing by his bed. A minor clerk named Chen, who was accustomed to carrying out his orders, went into the room to care for him, but Zhu Ao also shouted at him to leave. He instructed his family to keep watch at the outer gate and let no one in. At this point, Zhu Ao hazily saw Chen bring him a bowl of medicine, which he drank. At once, his mind felt clear and his body comfortable. He called to his family, “The medicine Chen just brought me worked very well. Bring me some more to take.” His family was astonished. “You wouldn’t let him into the room. How could Chen have come in?” Only then did Zhu Ao understand that Jiao had been protecting him unseen. From then on, his illness gradually improved.

Jiao once stayed at a Daoist temple in Shezhou and suffered from dysentery, becoming extremely weak. The others planned to report the matter to the authorities…

He first consulted Jiao through mind intent, but Jiao grew angry and said, “I’ve only just recovered from my illness. Why go to all this trouble?”

Yet his condition grew steadily worse. With no other recourse, the temple’s presiding priest reported the matter verbally to the county magistrate. The magistrate sent someone to visit. Jiao asked, “How did that elder know I was ill?” The visitor told him what had happened. Jiao flew into a rage, suddenly got up, packed his things, and went straight into the mountains, moving as fast as if he were running.

More than ten days later, Jiao returned carrying a large staff and went to find the presiding priest, threatening to beat him. The temple’s Daoist priests knelt together and pleaded for mercy, and only then was the presiding priest spared a beating.

Jiao then went to look around the market in Hongzhou and bought some pickled fish to eat. A child shouted, “The Daoist is eating pickled fish!” Jiao grew angry and struck the child on the forehead with an object, drawing blood. Street patrolmen seized Jiao and took him to the yuhou, an official responsible for patrols, public order, and similar duties. The yuhou had heard of Jiao and was pleased to have the chance to meet him, so he tried to reason with him. Jiao responded with a stream of abuse. Enraged, the yuhou beat him dozens of times with a staff. Jiao told the people nearby, “If he strikes me fifteen times, I’ll live for fifteen days; if he strikes me ten times, I’ll live for ten.” Before long, events proved him right.

After that, Jiao settled at Jianji Abbey on Mount Lu, a Daoist temple, and went out exploring every day. Even in remote mountains and dangerous ridges inaccessible to ordinary people, he could travel with ease, as though walking on level ground.

Later, after getting drunk, Jiao lay for several days without getting up. Before he died, he placed a staff in his coffin. After he was buried, people found the coffin empty. When they opened it, only the staff remained.