《歷世真仙體道通鑑》Vol. 50

Zhang Qizhen, whose courtesy name was Qiyi, was from Qiantang. He lost his father in childhood and went to live with Master Hu of the Shangqing Palace. Master Hu traveled throughout Jiangsu and Zhejiang, visiting Yu’s Cave in Kuaiji and passing through Jinyun and touring Chicheng as he sought the path of the immortals. Zhang Qizhen followed him each time, carrying his book chest on his back.

At the time, Celestial Master Zhu lived at Tiantai. When he met Zhang Qizhen, he saw that the young man had promise. Impressed by his refined bearing and bright eyes, he ordained him as a Daoist. Much later, Zhang returned to Qiantang and lived at the Zhensheng Palace on Mount Wu.

In the fifth year of the Xiande era of Later Zhou Emperor Shizong, Zhang received the Zhengyi Mengwei and Lingbao Fulu from Master Fan of Dayuan. These ritual credentials conveyed Daoist practices and the status of a Daoist priest. After that, he read widely in Daoist texts concerning the Purple-Sprout Jade Casket, and his reputation spread throughout Jiangsu and Zhejiang. King Zhongyi held Daoist teachings in great reverence. Whenever he held a Three-Register Purification Ritual, he appointed Zhang to preside. Princes, nobles, and high officials also came to respect and esteem him.

During the Taiping Xingguo era of the Song, Emperor Taizong ordered officials to build a Taiyi Palace in the southeastern part of the capital. He decreed that Daoists of upright character and pure conduct be selected from across the realm to live there, and Zhang was among those chosen. Soon afterward, a Qing Purification Ritual was held at the palace. The emperor summoned Zhang and was pleased with their conversation, so he bestowed on him a purple robe.

The emperor believed that many Daoist texts contained errors, and ordered the Daoist Record Offices on both sides of the capital to select learned Daoists to collate and print them. Zhang was chosen once again. After the work was complete, the emperor bestowed on him the title “Master of Primordial Stillness.”

On the night of the eleventh day of the first month in the third year of the Jingde era of Song Emperor Zhenzong, as Zhang was going to bed, he seemed to see an official in red carrying an edict. The official said, “I have been ordered to summon Zhang. Please cleanse yourself at once and go there to take up your post.” At daybreak, Zhang called his disciple Xu Sijian and said, “I am about to depart. Remember these words.” Twenty-five days later, after bathing, he died peacefully at the age of seventy-one.

According to the records, on the day he died, his body was moved to the eastern part of the city. It remained supple, and his face was still faintly beaded with sweat. After cremation, more than a sheng of bluish-black beads were found. Chancellor Qian Weiyan said to Zhang’s disciples, “These are what Buddhists call śarīra. In the scriptures of the immortals, they are called the coagulation of essence and Qi. The Scripture of Pacing the Void says, ‘The śarīra gleam with golden light, and the dragon chariot suddenly comes to welcome them.’ It describes precisely this event.”

Zhang Qizhen was quiet by nature and cared little for fame or profit. He loved books and remained a diligent reader in old age. He copied by hand more than five hundred volumes of works from the classics, histories, philosophical writings, and literary collections. He was skilled in cursive and clerical script, and in playing chess…

He often lived in seclusion and kept himself humble. When he sat alone on the steps in front of his house, birds would settle in his lap. This shows how completely he had forgotten artifice and become attuned to all things.

Zhang Yuanhua

The Daoist Zhang Yuanhua was said to be from somewhere unknown. People called him “Master Huagai.” He once traveled through the area around Rufen. Later, local residents asked him to preside over the Northern Dipper Abbey, where he burned incense and practiced the Dao. He treated people with kindness and was good to everyone around him, so no one in the area disliked him. Yet no one knew what methods of Daoist cultivation he practiced in secret. In daily life, he blended into the secular world and got along harmoniously with everyone, never seeming different from others.

Someone placed oil lamps as offerings in the Hall of the North Pole. Yuanhua filled a large basin with water and set eight lamps floating on its surface. Their reflections formed the pattern of the stars, and the direction in which the Dipper’s handle pointed shifted with the time of day.

People in the commandery planned to invite him to perform a purification ritual for blessings. Whether they were old or young, Yuanhua seemed able to know their intentions in advance. Sometimes, before anyone had asked him, he would already arrive at dawn. At other times, people intended to invite him but then suddenly quarreled with their spouses, or family members refused to listen to one another. Though someone might still come to ask, Yuanhua could foresee the situation and decline to go, urging them instead to return home and make peace.

Beside the Northern Dipper Abbey were an orchard and a vegetable garden. Villagers often took advantage of Yuanhua’s absence to steal from them. But when they reached the gardens, Yuanhua was already there. He knew beforehand how such things would unfold, and many similar stories were told about him.

Zhou, an assistant military commissioner in the commandery, was Yuanhua’s closest friend, yet he did not know what Daoist arts Yuanhua had taught him. On the first day of the first month, Yuanhua once carried a torch made of reeds and walked through the streets and alleys. He walked for a long time, but the reeds on the torch remained as long as when it had first been lit. When people asked in astonishment, he said, “There are plague demons abroad, so I am driving them away.” People found his words and behavior strange and did not believe him. In summer, a plague did indeed break out suddenly beyond the city walls, while everyone within the city, rich or poor, high or low, remained unharmed.

Yuanhua often used Fulu (talismans and registers) and medicines to help people, and put all the money he received toward his practice. One day, a guest invited him to a banquet at a tavern. Yuanhua declined, saying that he ordinarily did not drink. The guest then invited him to go with his companions, but Yuanhua again said that he was carrying ritual registers and could not go. The guest became somewhat angry. Yuanhua studied him closely and realized that he was not human. “I’ll return to the abbey first,” he said. “Wait here, and I’ll come back to see you shortly.” Then he took his sword and led the creature to the outskirts of the city. He ordered it to sit down and killed it.

The creature was a demon, with red hair, a blue face, and a back so thin it looked like that of a five- or six-year-old child. Yuanhua held up its head for people to see and said, “This demon often does evil and causes trouble, so I killed it to rid the people of a menace.” He then piled firewood on the main road and burned the demon. Its foul, fishy stench lingered for several days.

Everyone in the district dreamed that Yuanhua came to bid them farewell. “I must travel far away for a while,” he said. “I hope you will take good care of yourselves.” That night, Yuanhua suddenly feathered away in his sleep—a Daoist expression for ascending to heaven after attaining the Way, and sometimes for dying—and by dawn he had passed away. Some people did not believe it and came to see for themselves, but everyone found the same thing.

In the early Taiping Xingguo era of Emperor Taizong of the Song, the presented scholar An Hongjian was living in the district. He prided himself on his talent and treated others arrogantly, believing no one deserved his respect. Yet when he met Yuanhua, he bowed to him reverently and became his disciple. After Yuanhua was buried, the coffin was extraordinarily heavy to carry, as though it contained iron and stone. Yet something round could be heard rolling inside it. An Hongjian then ordered wine to be prepared and prayed to the coffin. After a while, he gradually began to discern what was happening inside. (The phrase “zhidao” may be corrupt in the source, and its meaning is unclear.)

Yuanhua had once traveled around Mount Song, then sailed along the Xiang and Han rivers as far as Jinling. He stayed at Buddhist temples such as Baoning and Shouning, keeping his doors shut and seeing no one. When scholars came to visit and seek his guidance, he pretended to be deaf. After that, he paid almost no attention to worldly affairs. Yet he had a thorough command of learning from ancient to modern times and of the teachings of the various masters. He could also recall in detail the contents of local gazetteers and minor histories.

Two students of the Confucian classics served him for many years at his desk. Later, Yuanhua ordained them as Daoist priests. Yuanhua’s religious name was Wumeng. He died in Jinling at the age of ninety-nine. Three days later, a stream of white vapor rose vigorously from the crown of his head to a height of more than three feet, then gradually dispersed. When he was placed in his coffin, his limbs were still supple, his fingernails had not turned blue, and his chest remained warm. The historian Shi Junyuqi sent people to bury him in front of the tower of the Chan master Wukong.

Yuanhua’s Collected Poems from the Jade Terrace has been preserved. Chen Jingyuan, known as Bixuzi, was among his disciples and grasped the profound teachings of Laozi and Zhuangzi.

Immortal Cheng

No one knows where Immortal Cheng was from. He ascended to heaven in broad daylight in Zizhou. The prefect, Xing Qi, submitted a report of the event to Emperor Zhenzong of the Song. His descendants are still living today.

Tu Dingci

Tu Dingci was from Longmouli, Liangshan, Pengzhou. His ancestors had lived there for generations, dating back to the time when Meng Zhixiang held sway over Shu. Tu Dingci farmed and managed his household himself, gradually amassing a fortune of several hundred jin in gold.

During the Xianping era of Emperor Zhenzong of the Song, Tu Dingci was serving in the district and transporting silk into the passes. One night, he stayed at an inn in Huayin. By chance, a scholar who called himself “Dongzhuan” greeted Tu Dingci with a bow and sat down beside him. They talked happily together, and the scholar stayed to drink with him for an entire day. When they parted, the scholar said, “I am Chen Tuan. Since you are no ordinary person, I made a special effort to meet you here.”

Tu Dingci was astonished and delighted, and could hardly contain himself. He begged Chen Tuan to teach him extraordinary arts. Chen Tuan replied, “The Way is not found in extraordinary arts. Simply cherish your spirit, and do not let likes and dislikes wound your heart. That is already enough.”

Later, he took out a small portion of medicine and said, “Just take this, and you will live a hundred years.” The next day, the man went to visit him again, but could no longer find him. Afterward, Dingci returned to his hometown in the west and settled down, no longer pursuing a livelihood. On the mountain south of his dwelling, he cut out a stone chamber in a perilous spot, dozens of ren above the ground (the ren was an ancient unit of length). Onlookers were terrified just seeing it, but Dingci assured them that if they climbed up by the wooden ladder, they would be as steady as if walking on level ground.

At first, the stone chamber was very dry, and he often worried about the lack of water. Whenever this happened, he would recite an incantation, and sweet spring water would gush forth right on time. He liked to feed flocks of birds. Sometimes he would call into the wind, and hundreds or even thousands of birds would fly to him and gather tamely at his side. In hot weather, he would wrap himself in cotton wadding and sit on a rock in the sun, saying this was “welcoming the cool”; when the weather was bitterly cold and the ground frozen, he wore only a thin silk robe.

He once visited the monk Xibai in Chengdu. On one occasion, he had someone bring a vessel of salt weighing several jin, which astonished the guests at the table. The occultist Wang He once drank and chatted with him; Dingci drank several dou of wine by himself, yet showed no sign of intoxication. He also chopped up several sheng of ginger and scallions, mixed them together, and ate them. Whenever guests came, if he suddenly said he wanted to eat something, he would have it brought and eat his fill. Even when his guests had already eaten their fill, he would not stop serving them.

He once became involved in a lawsuit over farmland and was taken to Yanqu for questioning, where he spent nearly a year in prison. During that time, he never prepared provisions, and the other party did not dare challenge him. Because the prison official could not get him to submit to questioning and so could not determine the facts of the case, he released him from custody. Dingci then went to the Luohan Monastery north of the city and climbed into an ancient tree at the top of a sheer cliff beside the river, firmly refusing to come down. He stayed there for seven days. When people called to him, he said, “I will not come down. You may shoot me with arrows; I will not dodge.” In the end, no one dared force him. On the eighth day, when the crowd stopped calling to him, he came down by himself and returned to the place of questioning. Before long, an imperial decree granting him a pardon arrived.

Much later, Dingci asked to leave lay life and become a Daoist priest. Each year in mid-spring, when people took purgative medicines to clear their bowels, he would go to a small sandbank by the water, expose his lower body, and let the water enter his body through its seven orifices. He called this practice “washing the intestines.”

Two small-time merchants were passing through Tuobai Creek when one of them suffered heatstroke and suddenly died. Dingci placed an iron needle against the man’s forehead and struck it with a mallet. The needle sank in about an inch; a short while later, the man came back to life. The following year, the merchant brought him gifts in gratitude, but Dingci refused to accept them.

Dingci once locked five hundred thousand coins in a secure chest. His family did not dare take them without permission, and his descendants did not know why he had saved the money. A month before his death, he came out of his room and said to his family:

He said, “Whenever I bought something in my life, if it was worth a hundred cash, I would always pay a little more. If anyone pointed out that I had overpaid, I would give them the extra money as a reward for their honesty. Yet not once, up to the day I died, did anyone point out that they had taken too much. Such is the greed of worldly people.”

One day, he called his family to him and said, “I am already ninety-three, and still I do not die. What am I waiting for?” He asked for croton seeds and swallowed them. After taking two hundred, he waited a while, but nothing happened. He took another hundred, and only then did he have slight diarrhea. He sat upright peacefully and passed away. His family gathered around him, weeping, but he came back to life and said, “If I die sitting up, I fear you will not have time to prepare the funeral things.” Then he lay down and died. Several nights later, his face still looked like a child’s, and his body remained upright and lifelike. When the time came for burial, the coffin was remarkably light. Those with broad learning believed this was “corpse liberation,” a Daoist legend in which a practitioner’s body departs and the practitioner transcends to become an immortal. In the stone chamber where he lived, the sounds of flutes and drums could often be heard. His son rose to the rank of Left Palace Attendant, and several of his grandsons passed the jinshi examinations.

Guo Shangzao

Guo Shangzao’s origins are unknown. During the Tianxi era of Emperor Zhenzong’s reign in the Song, he was employed at a teahouse near the bridge in Bianzhou, where he boiled water and washed utensils.

One day, a man wearing a blue headcloth and a cloth robe came to the teahouse for tea. He was imposing in build and appearance, with a stern expression, and he looked at Guo Shangzao several times. Guo also thought he seemed no ordinary person. He secretly saw the man draw a sharp sword from his sleeve and thought, “He must be Master Lü.” When the man left, Guo hurried after him and bowed. “I am fortunate to have met you, sir. I would gladly serve as your attendant.” The man paid him no heed and went on his way.

Guo followed him all the way. When they reached a secluded place, the man turned and said, “Do you truly want to follow me? Then take a stroke of my sword.” Guo repeatedly said yes and stretched out his neck, waiting. The man raised his sword to strike. Guo cried out, but Master Lü had already vanished.

Guo later appeared at the Million Granary, where patrolling soldiers seized him and handed him over to the authorities. He was released only after being beaten with a staff. From then on, he searched every secluded place inside and outside the capital, studying everyone he met closely before moving on. When people asked him about it, he would say, “I am looking for Master Lü.” More than ten years passed this way, and he still did not know where Master Lü was.

At the end of the Tiansheng era during Emperor Renzong’s reign, a magistrate named Zhao was living at his country residence in the market town of Cizhou. Suddenly, a beggar wearing a ragged padded robe came to him and bowed. “I am Guo Shangzao,” he said. The magistrate had seen him before and asked, “Have you found Master Lü?” Guo replied, “I have traveled all over the world, but I still have not found him. My allotted years are now nearly at an end, so I have come to ask for a small coffin in which to lay my remains.” Magistrate Zhao…

At first, the man thought he was talking nonsense and asked, “When will you die?” He replied, “Tomorrow at noon.” The man said, “In that case, I’ll buy you a coffin.” He then asked, “Please make a small hole in the head of the coffin, and find a bamboo pole. Bore through the joints and insert it into the hole; perhaps that will let air into the coffin.” The man agreed, though in his heart he did not believe him.

At noon the next day, he drew water and washed himself, then lay down beneath a locust tree and died. The man was astonished and had a coffin made for him. Since bamboo was scarce in the Hedong region, he found an old umbrella handle, hollowed it out, and inserted it into the head of the coffin. He buried the coffin beside the riverbank. Still worried that foxes or other creatures might dig it up, he planted thorn bushes around it and piled stones to reinforce the grave.

That autumn, heavy rain fell for days and the river swelled. It took several days for the water to recede. Worried that the coffin might have been swept away, the man went to check, leaning on his cane. The coffin had been opened, but there was no body inside.

Zhao Baoyi

The Master was named Baoyi and came from Liangdang County in Fengzhou. His father had moved to Puchi in Liangquan. For generations, the family had made its living by farming and raising silkworms.

When the Master was twelve, he was once out tending cattle when he met an old man. The old man asked, “Are you hungry?” He did not speak, but nodded. The old man took from his bag a sweet food shaped like a radish and gave it to him, along with a cane and a small gourd ladle. Inside the ladle was a kind of medicine: peas. The old man told him to give this medicine to the sick. After that, anyone who took it recovered, whether they had been ill for a long time or had only just fallen sick.

After eating the radish-like food himself, the Master no longer wanted ordinary cooked food. Some time later, he wandered into the Ba Lou courtyard on the western outskirts of the capital. Beneath one of the courtyard’s three gates, a monk asked him, “Do you want to become a monk?” The Master said, “Yes.” The monk told him to go see the head monk, who was responsible for guiding new arrivals, and ask him for an introduction.

The Master went to a thatched pavilion by the courtyard’s rear gate and fell asleep without realizing it. He did not wake for several days. Another monk came to see him, asked where he had come from, and then led him inside. As they passed the Nirvana Hall, where monks who were dying or gravely ill were cared for, the Master heard someone groaning within and asked, “How did this person become so ill?” The monk replied, “Recently, the young novices have been suffering badly from an epidemic.”

The Master poured the pea medicine from his small ladle and had the patient take it with freshly drawn water. The patient immediately broke into a sweat, as though he had just bathed, and was well by that night. The monks were amazed, and word of the event quickly spread inside and beyond the monastery. More and more people came seeking medicine, but the supply in the small ladle never ran out. He refused to accept the gifts people brought and handed them all over to the monastery’s abbot.

Although the patrol officers and judicial commissioners knew he was not deceiving people with illusion, the growing number of those who came for medicine became impossible to control. They therefore sent a detailed report of the matter to the court.

Emperor Zhenzong of the Northern Song was traveling east to Mount Tai to perform the Feng and Shan rites, and had not yet returned. While serving as regent in the capital, the chancellor Xiang Gong secretly sent people to investigate the Master’s true circumstances, then promptly reported what they found to the emperor. The emperor issued an order to arrange a residence for him at Jianji Palace, a Daoist monastery, and so he took up residence in the fasting quarters of the Eastern Taiyi Palace.

After the Master settled in, the authorities kept the gates securely locked and patrolled with wooden clappers to guard him closely. They also appointed the Daoists Hu Taiyi and others to provide his food. Each day, the Master ate only a few dates and chestnuts. More than a month passed before the emperor returned to the capital. Zhenzong summoned the Master and, patting him on the back, said, “You and I share the same surname.” He then held a rite of ordination, conferring Daoist status on him and bestowing the name “Baoyi” (“Embracing Unity”).

Not long afterward, Baoyi asked to return to the mountains. The emperor gave him a silver staff with a gold-inlaid dragon head, a bronze “Song” token, a parrot-shaped cup, incense, medicines, and other gifts. He also sent the palace eunuch Zhang Maoxian and the Daoist Hu Dayi to escort him to Mount Shimen, where he specially built Zhenji Monastery as a place for him to cultivate the Dao and attain immortality. Thereafter, each year he was granted an ordination place and a purple robe.

During the Qingli era of Emperor Renzong, the Master suddenly “ceased his travels and sleep”; the meaning of this phrase in the original is unclear. In the Xuanhe era, he came to the capital again and stayed in his former hermitage at Taiyi Palace. He prepared and submitted a memorial asking that the favor bestowed on him by the late emperor be restored. Renzong had long known of the Master’s reputation. After reading the memorial, he approved all his requests and summoned him for an audience, but officials responsible for remonstrance strongly urged against it.

On both of his visits to the capital, the Master could drink wine throughout the day without becoming drunk, while eating only a little fruit and vegetables. During the Jiayou era, he urgently asked to return to the mountains, saying only that he feared encountering floods on the journey. After he returned, a great flood did indeed occur around the Mid-Autumn Festival.

One day, he sent his disciple Zan Weifu into the city to buy medicine. Zan Weifu did not return by the appointed time. The Master gathered his disciples and said, “I wish to go to court and present a memorial, and pay a visit to Vice Minister Zhang Bian.” As soon as he had said this, he suddenly felt tired, lay down to sleep, and then died. He was seventy-eight years old. One hundred days later, his limbs were still warm; only much later did his body become thin and withered. This continued for three years, after which his disciples buried him.

The staff the Master had when he first met the old man had originally been his own. Zhenzong later exchanged it for the dragon-headed staff. The other objects bestowed by the emperor were all preserved. Those who knew the story said that the old man the Master had met was Master Zhang Guo, because there is a cave west of the prefectural city where, according to tradition passed down through generations, Zhang Guo once lived in seclusion.

Wu Baoyi

Wu Baoyi was from Jiankang. At first, he followed a Daoist from Mount Mao as a young attendant, and in the meditation hall…

Zhong Su was a man who gathered many Daoist practitioners around him. During the Jianlong era of Emperor Taizu of the Song, he once ordered a young attendant to ring a bell at set times. Later, he unexpectedly encountered a “Perfected One,” someone who had attained the Dao. After that, he gained the Dao and departed, appearing and disappearing without trace. People therefore called him the “Immortal Youth.”

Zhu Ziying was a Daoist of Huayang, well versed in the Elixir scriptures, Daoist books about alchemy and cultivation. Emperor Zhenzong of the Song once issued an edict honoring him as “Master of the Wondrous Dao” and offered him generous gifts to enter his service. When Ziying was said to be preparing to leave, an Immortal Youth gave him a letter:

“Baoyi respectfully sets out these words: In an age of peace and prosperity, one may live joyfully and freely, unmoved by wealth and rank, like a flourishing cinnamon tree whose brilliance the full moon can never conceal. Or one may be like a green mountain rising above sheer cliffs: do not linger over the traces of clouds passing to and fro. Words cannot say all that needs saying, yet the Dao is present within them. Though form and spirit each remain hidden in their own way, your name has already spread throughout the four seas.

How should the years be counted? Why cling to the pursuit of lead and mercury, symbolic terms in Daoist Neidan? If you keep putting things off, you will only waste your life and fall into hardship. A pearl is naturally precious in its rounded beauty; crimson snow, the essence attained through cultivation, takes shape just as naturally. Is the marketplace necessarily wrong? Is the mountain necessarily right? Water gathers to form the sea; Qi gathers to become Shen. Since you and I know one another, there is no need for many words.

Baoyi sells medicine to help people. Why would he care about fame or profit? To mingle with the dust, adapting to the world without displaying one’s edge: why draw too sharp a line between the Dao and the ordinary world? The way to lighten the body and rise far above, cultivating longevity, lies precisely here. Most of the time, one should move freely among clouds and waters, and not casually reveal Heaven’s secrets. Those who know cannot easily put it into words; those who cultivate will naturally come to understand.

For now, I have written these sincere words in place of meeting face to face. At this moment, a single day feels like two autumns. Though we are near enough to be within reach, we seem separated by ten thousand miles. Yang Qi hangs like smoke, and the desolate outskirts stretch like water. I hope you take care of body and mind and remain calm and balanced. There is no need to come and bid farewell again. I send this letter by fish and wild goose, to express a little of what I feel. I have sent it to the foot of the mountain, as a humble token of my admiration. Respectfully, I send you these words.”

The Immortal Youth also composed a poem:

“The enlightened ruler seeks out those who dwell beyond the world;

All gather at the Golden Gate to pay homage to the numinous Perfected Ones.

I alone have no wish to reveal my name:

Green waters and blue mountains are where one draws close to the Great Dao.”

Zhu Ziying had not yet finished reading the letter when the messenger had already vanished. He was astonished by what had happened.

Zhu Ziying, whose courtesy name was Yinzhi, came from Zhuyang Hamlet in Jurong. When he was eight or nine, he herded cattle in Guogan Village and often attracted cranes. Some said this was an ill omen, so his parents abandoned him. He later entered the Daoist path and became a disciple of Zhu Wenji, a Daoist of Yuchen Abbey. At eleven, he formally became a Daoist.

He lived with the Daoist master Zhang Shaoying at Jijin Peak. They often practiced cultivation by abstaining from food, yet many people kept coming to visit. Zhu Ziying said, “They hear I have cut off contact with the world of dust and come flocking to follow me. Isn’t that making too much of a fuss?” So he dismantled the altar in the morning and crossed the river that evening, intending to pay homage to Hun Yuan—that is, Laozi—in Bo Society, and then to worship the Celestial Master at Mount Qingcheng. On the way, he met an old man who told him to close his eyes and said, “Be careful…”

The Immortal Li (said by some to be Daoist Li) suddenly brought a man to the foot of Mount Qingcheng and transmitted to him the sword method of the Golden Tripod Nine-Revolution Flying Essence (Jinding Jiuzhuan Feijing Jianfa), calling himself "Chen Iron-Foot." After Li departed, the master, concerned that the Daoist canon of the Three Mao (Sanmao Daozang) contained gaps and errors, went to Laixiang to collate the ancient Taiqing text. More than a year later, a Daoist surnamed Wu came to him and asked, "Will you come with me?" The master replied, "How would I dare not obey your command?"

Daoist Wu had the master close his eyes for a moment. Suddenly he heard the clamor of the marketplace in his ears, and when he opened his eyes, they had arrived at Hezhong. The two walked to the Yellow River, where Daoist Wu stopped the current and crossed the water with ease, and the master followed behind, walking as if on level ground. After they came ashore, Daoist Wu said happily, "You are someone who can be taught. I am a Youth of Mercury (Shuixing Tongzi)." This journey had already transcended the physical body and reached the realm of Taiyin (Great Yin). Although Daoist Wu lived in seclusion in remote places, the master did not find his depths and remoteness unfathomable, and afterward he met with him from time to time. Eventually Daoist Wu departed abruptly, and the master returned to his old mountain.

The master received the Seal of the Nine Elders, Lord of the Celestial Capital (Jiulao Xiandujun Yin), and ferried people across to salvation without ever tiring. Not long after, the Jade Clarity Zhaoying Palace (Yuqing Zhaoying Gong) issued an imperial decree to select people of outstanding virtue, and Xue Ying, Vice Minister of Works, submitted the master's name to the court. The court dispatched envoys with an edict summoning him, and the master declined in a memorial. At that time the emperor had not yet named an heir, so the court sent the eunuch Ren Wenqing, bearing incense and candles, to hold a jiao offering ritual and ordered the master to submit a memorial petitioning for an heir. After the memorial was presented, Empress Mingsu, consort of Emperor Zhangsheng, dreamed of several dozen attendants in feathered robes following an immortal official who descended, and the official said, "This is the fourth emperor of the Song." (This account is based on the Record of Sage Governance [Shengzheng Lu], and a stele at Mount Mao records it as well.) When Emperor Renzong ascended the throne, court envoys twice pressed the prefectures and counties, and the master, having no choice, accepted the appointment and took up residence in the Zhaoying Palace, where he was treated with great generosity.

Wang Qinruo, Director of the Zhaoying Palace, held the master in deep respect and invited him to briefly present himself at court, and the two exchanged poems in response to one another. The master submitted memorials several times and was finally granted release from his post. Ding Wei, Military Governor and Prefect of Shengzhou, also composed a poem to send him back to the mountains. From then on the master lived in seclusion, feigning illness, and no longer took office. During the time of Empress Dowager Mingsu, the court again sent an envoy to offer incense and hold a jiao ritual for the emperor's well-being, and presented, in the emperor's own hand, a set of gilded bowls, said to have been used by the emperor in his childhood, and also provided a estate for the Daoist community. The master's calligraphy survives to this day. After he received the Shangqing scriptural methods, he was honored as his dushi (master of transmission) and granted the title "Guanmiao" (Contemplator of the Mysterious). Daoist Wu, the Immortal Youth, again sent a letter and a poem, encouraging him to hide his light even more deeply and nourish his inner life in obscurity. Today, the altars and alchemical furnaces he used, along with the bell bestowed by the court, are still preserved, and the Qianyuan Temple beside Fangyu Cave on Mount Mao is the place where he lived in seclusion in former times. The Stele of the Manifest Radiance of Hidden Light (Youguang Xianyang Bei) records his traces as an immortal in detail.

While serving as Supervising Censor of the Western Capital, the Song official Le Shi once dreamed that the Celestial Emperor summoned him. Soon he saw a tall, splendid palace. The Celestial Emperor said, “Someone in the human world is seeking a son. I will choose one for them.” A short while later, a man came before him. The Celestial Emperor said, “Someone in the Central Plain is seeking a son. Go to them, and do not refuse.” The man kowtowed repeatedly, begging to be excused from the task. The Celestial Emperor said, “Go.” He had no choice but to agree and depart. A person standing nearby with hands clasped said, “That is the Barefoot Immortal Li of Southern Mount Heng, who is often drunk.” The following year, Song Renzong was indeed born.

East of Luoyang stood the Palace of the Assembly of Sages, where portraits of the Song emperors through the generations were enshrined. On the twenty-ninth day of the third month in the eighth year of Renzong’s Jiayou reign, as daylight was fading, people saw a ceremonial procession on the road. At the rear of the procession was a man in an ochre robe, beneath a yellow parasol, riding toward the palace. Then he vanished. The next day, the palace gates stood wide open, and the locks on the halls had opened by themselves, though no keys had been used. Not long afterward, Renzong died.

Liu Congshan

Liu Congshan, courtesy name Shuntian and religious name Haoranzi, was from the western region of Luoyang. No one in his family had ever held office. His father later registered the family in Xiangfu County, Bianzhou. Bright and quick-witted from childhood, Liu Congshan was fond of Daoism. During the Dazhong Xiangfu era of Emperor Zhenzong’s reign, he became a disciple of the Daoist Wang Taihe at Jianlong Abbey. Five years later, he passed the examination and became a Daoist priest. His family was poor, so he asked only to support his parents by seeking alms. Through the bitter cold of winter and the heat of summer, he never slackened in this duty, and people praised his filial piety and kindness.

At the beginning of the Tiansheng era under Emperor Renzong, Liu Congshan was granted purple robes on the occasion of Qianyuan Festival, the celebration of the emperor’s birthday. In the sixth month of the second year of Tiansheng, he was appointed by imperial command as abbot of Jingling Palace. In the eighth month of the following year, Renzong and the Empress Dowager wished to confer Fulu (talismans and registers) upon him—the ranks and talismans transmitted in Daoist ordination ceremonies. They issued an edict inviting Zhu Ziying, the Great Cavern Master of the Three Mao Mountains and Master of Wondrous Observation, to preside over the rite at the Golden Register Altar in Yuqing Zhaoying Palace. They also ordered that more than fifty people who knew the scriptures and diligently pursued their practice be selected to receive ordination alongside him. Liu Congshan was first among them. After the ceremony, the emperor bestowed on him Zhengyi vestments, a cap, shoes, a treasured sword, and ornaments.

Renzong valued filial piety and regularly commemorated the late emperors. He specifically sent word that Liu Congshan should perform rites of offering consecrated food and reciting scriptures before the portraits of the former emperors. Liu Congshan therefore compiled scriptures and verses from the Three Caverns to make offerings on their behalf. Soon afterward, he presented a written prayer for the consecrated-food rite. Renzong greatly praised it, granted him the title “Master of Complete Purity,” and distributed the text to Daoist palaces and temples throughout the realm. The liturgy for the consecrated-food rite that Liu Congshan had devised began to circulate from this time.

At that time, Yanning Palace was completed, and the emperor ordered that inscriptions describing the five internal organs be composed for the sacred images. Many people submitted works in response to the edict, but only Liu Congshan’s was praised.

Thereafter, the text was inscribed on a gold-and-jade tablet by imperial order. During the Jingyou era, Ge Congshan asked to return to his former Daoist temple. Not long afterward, he was ordered to escort Zhang Hui’s spirit carriage out of the capital. He also served as a ritual master, expounding scripture and spreading the Dao along the way.

In the first month of the Yihe year, Yichou, Emperor Renzong fell ill. He summoned Ge Congshan to the Daqing Hall to perform a Zhaijiao purification ritual, submit a memorial, and pray. He also ordered senior ministers to perform the rites on his behalf. That night, as Ge Congshan knelt on the ground to submit his memorial, Renzong’s condition suddenly became critical. The emperor closed his eyes and remained unconscious for quite some time, causing great alarm throughout the court. After a long while, Ge Congshan rose and said, “The memorial has reached the Most High. The Most High has issued an order for Your Majesty to return.” Soon afterward, Renzong regained consciousness and immediately sent word to ask, “What kind of spirit is General Ge?” Ge Congshan replied, “There is a spirit beneath the Three Heavenly Gates called General Ge.” Renzong then ordered, “Quickly establish a shrine and make offerings to him.”

The next day, Renzong had recovered. He told those around him, “Last night I dreamed that I had reached the Heavenly Gate. A General Ge said, ‘It is not yet your time to come, Emperor. Quickly, borrow a horse and send him back.’ Then I awoke.” Renzong accordingly issued an order directing the eunuch Mai Chengxin to build a temple to General Ge southwest of the suburban altar and furnish it with gold ornaments. He also bestowed on Ge Congshan imperial robes, a mat, gold, silk, and other gifts. Renzong wished to grant him the title “Master,” but Ge Congshan firmly declined.

At the beginning of the Jiayou era, the Daoist officials of the Left and Right Circuits recommended Ge Congshan for an official post. Renzong approved and appointed him Acting Commissioner of the Right Circuit. Unable to refuse, he accepted. In the summer of the fifth year of Jiayou, the people suffered a severe flood. Ge Congshan submitted a memorial and prayed in Funing Hall, and the floodwaters then receded, sparing the people from inundation. He was later promoted step by step from Acting Commissioner to Deputy Registrar of the Right Circuit. In his daily life, he often recited scriptures such as The Fundamental Origin of Jade Clarity, The Ascent to the West, and The Yellow Court. He also diligently practiced methods such as regulating the breath and refining the body. After Emperor Yingzong ascended the throne, the Chancellor Han Wei once again requested that Ge Congshan be granted the title “Master,” but he declined again.

On the twenty-eighth day of the seventh month in the third year of the Xining era, during Emperor Shenzong’s reign, Ge Congshan bathed and then called his disciples to him. “When the great wind comes, it will be time for me to depart,” he said. A short while later, a great wind indeed arose, and he died. He was eighty-one years old. Later, someone saw Ge Congshan riding a white horse toward Shu and heard him ask that a message be conveyed to his disciples. People therefore believed that he had departed through “corpse liberation,” the Daoist practice of leaving one’s bodily form behind and transforming away. He had compiled liturgical rites for Zhaijiao purification rituals and formats for submitting memorials; these ritual documents later circulated widely.

Lan Fang

Master Lan Fang was surnamed Lan, given the name Fang, and styled Yuandao. The elders of Bozhou said that his appearance had remained unchanged since he was a child. His hair reached the ground, black and shining.

He had handsome features and skin as smooth and delicate as jade-white fat. His brows and eyes were refined and open, his lips seemed painted vermilion, and his teeth were neatly aligned like jade. His manner was gentle and sincere, and he treated people kindly. Young and old alike found favor with him.

Once, after drinking, he was wandering through a tavern pavilion, a place where people went to drink and rest. He saw an abandoned beggar lying by the roadside, so he took a large handful of money from his robe and gave it to him. He also often dispensed medicine and treated the sick, helping them escape their suffering. When Emperor Renzong of Song heard of the master’s reputation, he issued a special edict summoning him to court, gave him a seat, tea, and medicine, and arranged for him to stay in Fanglin Garden. Before long, the master asked to leave. The emperor bestowed on him the title “Master of Nurturing Simplicity of the Southern Marchmount.” From then on, he lived at Zhaoxian Monastery on the Southern Marchmount.

At that time, the academician Jia Changchao presented the master with a poem:

“The emperor’s deep favor rests upon this recluse.

His Daoist robes call for a headcloth of kudzu cloth.

Beneath Zhurong Peak, he drinks by moonlight;

At the Xiang River’s source, he fishes for purple fish.

He has seen the sea’s immortal peaches bear fruit three times,

Yet who knows how many springs have passed for the beans of Qiong?

If one day my practice succeeds,

May I kneel by the spirit bridge and ask him to teach me.”

The master replied in verse:

“Recently I have informed the enlightened ruler

That I wish to return to seclusion.

From now on, I can wear a black headcloth

And dwell beneath the trees, pouring wild wine

And watching foam rise on its surface;

By the stream, I can fish and slice the flesh.

At night, young crows from the immortal abode take flight,

While the cave’s dragon offspring grow without end.

If anyone wishes to follow the same path as I,

My immortal dwelling can still make room for two.”

The master had a disciple named Chen Tongsou, who once asked, “If one does not accumulate merit and good deeds, can one never reach the realm of the immortals?” The master replied, “The ancients performed meritorious and good deeds but feared that others would find out. People today perform meritorious and good deeds but fear that others will not find out. That is why their practice and merit are shallow, and in the end they accomplish nothing.”

When Li Guan, a gentleman of the Secretariat, was still preparing for the jinshi examinations, he traveled to the Southern Marchmount. Passing through Changsha, he was drinking in a tavern pavilion when a man carrying a bamboo case and tools for repairs suddenly said to him, “When you go to the Southern Marchmount, ask Master of Nurturing Simplicity for me: after ten months of pregnancy, how can one bring it to birth?”

When Li Guan reached the Southern Marchmount, he passed the message on to the master. The master was greatly startled and asked, “Did that man have a white mole between his eyebrows?” Li Guan answered, “Yes.” The master sighed and said, “That was Haichanzi, an immortal of legend. The sacred embryo I have cultivated has already taken shape, but I have been troubled because I cannot find a way to bring it out. Without that man, I could not have fulfilled my Dao.”

One night, the master was staying alone in an upper room, yet someone heard him talking with another person. A servant poked a small hole in the window paper and peeped inside, whereupon he saw red light filling the room. The next day, a guest asked the master about it. He said, “My teacher, Lord Liu Daojun, was passing through in the rain and stopped to talk with me for a while.”

One day, after bathing, the master called his attendant over and said to him…

He once said, “I am now one hundred and seventy-two years old. How could I still concern myself with the title of a gentleman? I only do not wish to disappoint the Sacred Lord’s intentions. Now I should cast all of this aside.” As soon as he had finished speaking, he suddenly passed away.

This gentleman often traveled through western Sichuan and sometimes visited the Lake Xiang region as well. Even in later years, people would still occasionally say they had seen him.

Another account says that Li Guan, the Old Man of Yuxi, was traveling on Mount Heng in the south and wished to pay a visit to Lan Yangsu. Along the way, he met a man carrying tools for repairing things. The man asked Li Guan, “Are you Li Guan, on your way to Mount Yue to visit Lan Yangsu?” Li Guan replied, “That is right.” The man then said, “Please pass a message to Master Lan for me: The recluse Liu sends his regards and asks, ‘After ten months of gestation, how can one be born?’”

When Li Guan met Lan Yangsu, he relayed the message to him exactly as he had heard it. Lan Yangsu asked, “Did the man have a white mole between his eyebrows?” Li Guan replied, “Yes.” Lan Yangsu said, “That was Liu Haichan, an Daoist immortal. The sacred embryo I have cultivated is complete; without this person, I could not attain the immortal fruit.”

Li Guan conveyed the message: “The recluse Liu asks you, Master: After ten months of gestation, how can one be born?” Lan Yangsu clapped his hands and laughed aloud. A faint rumble of thunder came from overhead. Then a figure appeared, bright as moonlight on snow and indistinguishable in appearance from Lan Yangsu, and shot straight up into the clouds. Lan Yangsu, too, had departed. Li Guan burned incense, sighed, and withdrew.

The Whistling Master of Mount Yue today is Lan Yangsu; his sculpted body is still preserved there.

Comprehensive Mirror of Immortals Who Have Lived Through the Ages and Realized the Dao, juan 48