《太上靈寶元陽妙經》Vol. 10

I heard of this scene: The Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun, the supreme deity of Daoism) was gathered with millions of devotees—including realized adepts (Zhenren), immortals (Xianren), and Daoist priests—in the Primordial Yang Palace beneath the Fanhua tree in the land of Pulin. On the seventh day of the seventh month, the Celestial Worthy resolved to ascend to the upper palace of the Great Canopy Heaven (Daluo Tian, the highest celestial realm in Daoism). As he entered deep meditation, he manifested supreme divine power, radiating beams of blue, yellow, red, white, and other brilliant lights that illuminated the entire trichiliocosm (three thousand great world-systems) and even the farthest reaches of the ten directions.

All beings of the six paths of rebirth (heavenly beings, humans, asuras, animals, hungry ghosts, and hell-dwellers) touched by this light were purified of their afflictions and defilements. Yet upon witnessing this spectacle, the multitudes grew anxious instead, weeping and comforting one another, saying: "Let us not grieve too deeply yet—let us first hasten to the Primordial Yang Palace to pay homage to the Celestial Worthy." They prostrated themselves, knocking their heads to the ground, pleading with the Celestial Worthy not to depart for the Great Canopy Heaven, hoping he would remain in the Primordial Yang Palace for centuries to come. Hand in hand, they lamented: "The world grows ever more desolate; the merit of sentient beings is nearly exhausted, while evil karma only increases. Soon the Celestial Worthy will leave, and we will be left without refuge—like orphans with no one to rely upon, with no one to answer our doubts when they arise."

At that time, countless realized adepts, immortals, cultivators, and lay devotees—both men and women—trembled uncontrollably with overwhelming emotion upon seeing the Celestial Worthy’s radiance, their hearts unsettled and bewildered. Yet there were also those like the Perfected Ones of Pine Numen (Songling Zhenren), Luminous Wonder (Guangmiao Zhenren), and Verdant Canopy (Yuluo Zhenren)—tens of thousands of accomplished practitioners who had attained spiritual freedom. Having severed all afflictions and mastered the six sense faculties (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind), they stood majestic as dragon-kings endowed with virtue. Having realized the wisdom of emptiness, they were like sandalwood forests perfumed by their own fragrance, like lion-kings surrounded by their prides, abounding in immeasurable merit.

Each dawn, these disciples of the Celestial Worthy would leave their abodes bearing incense burners. When they beheld his radiant light, they would remind one another: "We must swiftly purify ourselves through fasting and ablutions." And so they acted without delay.

Their bodies trembled uncontrollably with hair standing on end, eyes brimming with tears, hearts overwhelmed by profound sorrow. They acted thus to benefit all beings, bringing them peace and joy, attaining the supreme "Mahayana" (the bodhisattva path of universal liberation) realm, manifesting the "supreme emptiness practice" (the highest realization of void-nature), and propagating the skillful means and esoteric teachings of the great Dao. To ensure the Dharma's unbroken transmission, they expounded scriptures through myriad methods, creating opportunities for sentient beings to tame their afflictions. Thus they swiftly approached the Celestial Venerable (Taoism's supreme deity), prostrated in reverence, circumambulated a hundred times, then withdrew respectfully to sit at ease.

Present also were Daoist priests, male and female officials, and cultivators of twenty-four ranks, leading multitudes of disciples. These practitioners had severed defilements, attained inner freedom, completed their spiritual tasks, transcended all vexations, and mastered the six senses (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind). Like majestic dragon-kings, they possessed great virtue-power (De) and realized emptiness-wisdom. At dawn's first light, they too shook with awe, wept freely, and bore immense compassion. Likewise aspiring to benefit beings and propagate Mahayana's esoteric teachings, they hastened to the Celestial Venerable, prostrating and circumambulating a thousand times before sitting quietly in reverence.

These adepts were veritable dragons among men, having reached the "ten bhūmis" (bodhisattva stages), abiding unmoved yet responding skillfully to circumstances. Foremost among them were perfected beings (zhenren, realized ones) including Great King Nashan Zhenren, Jueli Zhenren, Supreme Victory Zhenren, Wondrous Thought Zhenren, and Great Wisdom Zhenren. All revered Mahayana teachings, profoundly comprehending and joyfully upholding its doctrines while adapting to worldly conditions. They vowed to liberate the unliberated, maintaining pure precepts through countless kalpas, perfecting practice, resolving unresolved truths, and perpetuating the Three Jewels (Buddha, Dharma, Sangha). In future ages they would turn the Dharma-wheel (symbolizing teaching), awakening beings through majestic manifestations, regarding all life equally as their own children. At dawn when encountering the Celestial Venerable's radiant light, they too quaked with reverence, wept ceaselessly, and approached with compassionate vows to pay homage.

At that time, there were countless devoted male and female practitioners who strictly observed the Five Precepts (abstaining from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, false speech, and intoxicants) with dignified solemnity. Among them were prominent figures like the virtuous Gan Ji, the wandering immortal Dong Shuangcheng, Xu Feiqiong, and Hualing Hua. They took special interest in contemplating all dualistic concepts in the world: suffering and joy, permanence and impermanence, purity and defilement, self and non-self, preciousness and worthlessness, refuge and non-refuge, sentient beings and non-sentient beings, constancy and inconstancy, peace and unrest, action (youwei) and non-action (wuwei), annihilation and non-annihilation, abiding and non-abiding, and so forth.

These practitioners not only deeply contemplated these dualistic teachings but also earnestly sought to hear the supreme Mahayana Dharma. After receiving the teachings, they could skillfully expound them to others. They excelled in maintaining pure precepts, thirsted for Mahayana doctrines, and after attaining fulfillment themselves, helped other seekers achieve satisfaction. They were adept at acquiring supreme wisdom, cherished the Mahayana path, protected its teachings, and skillfully guided beings according to worldly conditions—liberating those not yet liberated, awakening those not yet awakened, ensuring the continuous transmission of the Three Jewels (Buddha, Dharma, Sangha) for future generations.

At dawn each day, to glorify the Daoist teachings, the assembly would gather tens of thousands of precious fragrant woods—sandalwood, aloeswood, gośīrṣa sandalwood, and celestial aromatic woods. Between their grains naturally shone the subtle radiance of the Seven Treasures (gold, silver, lapis lazuli, etc.), as if adorned with multicolored paintings. Blessed by the Dao's power, the woods spontaneously displayed wondrous hues—azure, yellow, red, and white—that delighted all beings. Each log was anointed with rare fragrances like turmeric, aloeswood, and benzoin, and decorated with various jeweled lotus blossoms. From them hung five-colored banners, soft and exquisite as celestial robes, embroidered with magnificent patterns.

These fragrant woods were loaded onto jeweled chariots, each emitting radiant lights of azure, yellow, red, and white. Their axles and spokes were inlaid with the Seven Treasures, each chariot drawn by four majestic steeds swift as the wind. Before each chariot stood fifty-seven kinds of jeweled pennants, while golden nets draped over the vehicles. Each chariot was crowned with fifty tiers of exquisite jeweled canopies and filled with all manner of precious flowers.

This scripture depicts an extraordinarily magnificent and solemn vision of a Daoist celestial paradise. Lotuses of various colors—blue, white, red, golden, and dark blue—all have petals of pure gold and pedestals of diamond. Within these pedestals, black bees gather, producing delightful celestial sounds. These voices expound the truths of "impermanence, suffering, emptiness, and non-self," accompanied by the harmonious music of celestial instruments.

The text describes the lavish adornments of the Palace of Wang Yuanyang (a celestial abode in the Daoist paradise): the ground is paved with gold, draped with colorful silks and jeweled canopies. For the Celestial Venerable (Tianzun) and his disciples, lion thrones inlaid with the seven treasures (symbolizing the most honored seats of the Dharma) are prepared, towering as high as Mount Jade Capital (Yujingshan), the highest realm in Daoist cosmology. The thrones are adorned with jeweled curtains, garlands, and exquisite banners and canopies, anointed with rare incense and strewn with precious flowers.

Devout men and women prepare abundant offerings: various flowers, saffron, and other precious fragrances, with sandalwood and aloeswood as fuel, and food prepared in water imbued with the eight flavors (special divine waters in Daoist tradition), offering six tastes—bitter, sour, sweet, spicy, salty, and mild. With pure hearts of generosity, they willingly provide for all beings, seeking not worldly blessings but only the supreme purity of the Dharma precepts.

As the Celestial Venerable is about to conclude the offering and return to the Great Canopy Heaven (Daluo Tian, the highest celestial realm), the devotees are overcome with sorrow. Their hair stands on end, tears stream down their faces, and with utmost reverence, they bring forth various offerings. Riding in jeweled chariots, holding fragrant waters, banners, and canopies, they prostrate before the Celestial Venerable in deep veneration.

The practitioners, holding ritual offerings, circumambulated the Celestial Worthy (the supreme deity in Daoism) a hundred times, wailing loudly until their cries shook heaven and earth, their tears falling like rain. They lamented to one another: "Alas, how empty and impermanent is this worldly existence!" Then they all prostrated before the Celestial Worthy, pleading: "We beseech Your compassion to accept our offerings and repentance, and absolve our accumulated karmic transgressions across lifetimes."

They continued their confession: "Since beginningless kalpas, through countless cycles of birth and death, we have remained bound by the six desires (sensory cravings of eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) and entangled in the five aggregates (form, sensation, perception, mental formations, and consciousness). We've only known greed and miserliness, creating karmic offenses without ever comprehending the truth of the Great Vehicle (the universal path of liberation). Only now, through the Celestial Worthy's radiant power of the Great Vehicle, do we clearly see the gravity of our sins."

They began contemplating their physical form: "This body is like four venomous serpents coiling around us, devoured by countless parasites; filled with filth and imprisoned by craving; as repulsive as a rotting corpse, with its nine orifices (eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth, etc.) constantly discharging impurities. It resembles a fortress—with flesh and blood as walls, sinews and bones as beams, limbs as battlements, eyes as watchtowers, the skull as its central hall, and the heart as its sovereign. Yet this 'bodily fortress' has long been abandoned by realized immortals—only fools cling to it."

"This body is truly as fragile as reeds, as foul as putrid water (the Ela River), as illusory as foam, as transient as the banana plant—changing every moment, fleeting as lightning, vanishing like bubbles. Like drawings on sand, it disappears the moment they're completed. Ultimately, foxes, jackals and vultures will devour this form."

"Only the wise perceive the truth: were one to measure seawater in a cow's hoofprint, it couldn't contain the filth and impermanence of this body; were one to grind the earth down to jujube-stone size until only dust remains, it couldn't describe this body's defects. Therefore, we should abandon attachment to it as one discards mucus or spit."

Thus, the practitioners cultivated their minds with the wisdom of "emptiness, signlessness, and wishlessness" (the three gates of liberation in Buddhism), devoutly studying Great Vehicle scriptures. Having heard the true Dharma, they could then expound it for others while maintaining their original vows. Through profound realization of the body's falsity and revulsion toward its fragile nature, they transcended the cycle of birth and death through correct contemplation.

This scripture depicts a moving dialogue between celestial beings and humans. Though still dwelling in the mortal realm, these advanced practitioners (dacheng) have already attained the true immortal state in essence. They vow to universally deliver all beings with parental care, safeguarding the continuous transmission of Daoism's Three Treasures (Dao, scriptures, and masters).

The assembly pleads with the Celestial Worthy (the highest Daoist deity): "Do not return to the celestial realm—remain to guide living beings." They fear that without the Celestial Worthy's protection, they would become like orphans bereft of parents, incapable of perfecting the Dao. Overcome with emotion, the practitioners weep uncontrollably, their tears flowing without cease.

Suddenly, radiant light emanates from the Celestial Worthy's countenance—an omen immediately understood by Perfected Being Songling and other adepts as signaling the deity's imminent departure. Hastily preparing offerings while intensifying their lamentations, the assembly prostrates themselves in the most reverent kowtow posture, collectively expressing terror that the world might become empty void.

Thrice the Celestial Worthy reminds Perfected Being Songling and others: "Now is precisely the most auspicious moment for offerings—I must indeed return to the celestial realm." Finally imparting this teaching: "Do not grieve excessively. You should contemplate the human body as being like a banana plant (a common Buddhist metaphor for illusory existence), realizing the truth of universal emptiness." This dialogue reveals both practitioners' deep attachment to their celestial teacher and the wisdom with which the Celestial Worthy instructs disciples to transcend clinging.

This scripture records the dialogue between Perfected Lord Songling and the Celestial Venerable, revealing the truth of impermanence in all worldly phenomena. The text begins with a series of metaphors—flames, water bubbles, illusions, mirages, shattered vessels, lightning, and paintings—all illustrating the illusory nature of existence. Like a condemned prisoner, ripened fruit, meat on a chopping block, or cloth on a loom, all things are subject to constant change and dissolution.

With sorrow, Perfected Lord Songling implored the Celestial Venerable not to return to the heavenly realms but to remain in the mortal world to deliver sentient beings. The Celestial Venerable expounded: All conditioned phenomena (referring to things arising from causes and conditions) are inherently impermanent, with birth and cessation being natural laws. True peace lies in transcending this cycle to reach the tranquil state beyond arising and ceasing. Like water bubbles, our physical forms are filled with flaws and not worthy of lamentation.

Though Perfected Lord Songling understood this as the Celestial Venerable's teaching, he couldn't suppress his grief. The Celestial Venerable praised his comprehension: Great Sages (those who have realized the Dao), while appearing to undergo birth and death like ordinary beings, remain inwardly unaffected. Teaching sentient beings is an act of compassionate guidance according to circumstances, aiming to liberate them from the sufferings of birth, death, and illness to attain eternal peace. Since the Celestial Venerable is the field of merit (source of virtuous blessings) for all beings, Perfected Lord Songling should likewise aspire to become such a field through timely acts of kindness and generosity.

Finally, with tearful resolve, Perfected Lord Songling declared: If he were truly qualified to become a field of merit, he would genuinely understand whether the Celestial Venerable had truly returned to the heavens. Presently, he and fellow practitioners remained like insignificant mosquitoes, yet to fully awaken to this truth. This dialogue illuminates the core of Daoist cultivation: seeing through worldly illusions to pursue eternal truth, while accumulating merit through benefiting all beings.

This scripture depicts a poignant scene: As the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun, the supreme deity in Daoism) prepares to return to the celestial realm, Perfected Person Songling and his disciples are overcome with sorrow. They encircle the Celestial Worthy, burning incense and scattering flowers in devout offering. When Songling leaves to prepare ritual vegetarian offerings, the entire Divine Land suddenly trembles violently, and beings throughout the Three Realms (Sanjie: the realms of desire, form, and formlessness) sense the imminent departure of the Celestial Worthy.

Upon hearing this news, all beings stand with hair on end, reciting sorrowful gathas (Buddhist and Daoist verse hymns) in unison. They beseech the Celestial Worthy: "You are our master-teacher, now leaving the human world to return to the heavens. We are like calves bereft of their mother, like patients without a healer—we shall sink into the sea of suffering. Beings entangled by afflictions and ailments are like those who have swallowed poison, desperately needing you, the 'King of Dharma Physicians' (a sage who heals worldly delusions), to cure us. Your departure is like a kingdom losing its ruler—we lose our shelter, our hearts in turmoil like the quaking earth."

The scripture then illustrates its teachings through two metaphors: First, it compares the Celestial Worthy to a king educating his children—like a compassionate father, he instructs beings in benevolence, righteousness, loyalty, and filial piety. But if beings disregard his teachings, they become like princes abandoned by their king. Second, it uses the metaphor of a scholar—though the Celestial Worthy comprehends all methods of cultivation, he still tirelessly teaches sentient beings.

This passage expresses beings' profound reliance on the Celestial Worthy's guidance and his compassionate instruction. The mentioned "Jade Capital Mountain" (Yujing Shan) is the legendary Daoist paradise where Yuanshi Tianzun resides, while the "Three Realms" refer to the cosmological divisions of existence where all beings dwell.

The Supreme Numinous Treasure Primordial Yang Scripture employs vivid metaphors to expound the Celestial Worthy's (the highest deity in Daoism) method of instructing sentient beings.

Consider someone who, just after learning to serve as an official, is imprisoned and suffers greatly, longing for the peace and joy of freedom. Similarly, the Celestial Worthy underwent arduous cultivation to save us, yet we remain trapped in the suffering of birth and death. How could the Celestial Worthy enjoy supreme bliss alone while we are still in distress?

Another analogy: A master physician only passes secret prescriptions to his son, refusing outsiders. Though the Celestial Worthy should not withhold teachings, like that physician—who harbored a competitive mind and only transmitted the most profound mysteries to Laozi (the founder of Daoism)—it may seem we have been overlooked. In truth, the Celestial Worthy makes no distinctions; it is simply that we have not yet attained the capacity to receive these teachings. Thus, we pray for the Celestial Worthy to remain in the world to guide us.

The scripture further illustrates with a walking metaphor: Like the old, weak, and sick who forsake smooth roads for treacherous paths, enduring unnecessary hardship. Here, "old" signifies entanglement in afflictions, "sick" symbolizes being unliberated from birth and death, and "treacherous paths" refer to the twenty-five realms of samsara (the various states of existence for beings within the three realms). The assembly pleads with the Celestial Worthy to reveal the sweet dew of liberation—the true path beyond birth and death—and not hasten back to the celestial realm.

Finally, the Celestial Worthy admonishes practitioners: Do not weep and grieve like ordinary people. Instead, cultivate diligently and maintain right mindfulness. Hearing this teaching, the assembly restrained their sorrow, much like parents suppressing grief after a funeral. The Celestial Worthy then spoke a verse:

Open the heart’s capacity—do not drown in sorrow,

Such is the natural principle of the Dao.

Practice in stillness, uphold right mindfulness,

Transcend delusion, and true peace will arise.

If fellow Daoist practitioners like Song Ling have any doubts about the following questions, you may now inquire: What is emptiness and non-emptiness? What is eternity and impermanence? Where lies the boundary between suffering and non-suffering? What distinguishes dependence from non-dependence? What is the essence of coming and not coming, returning and not returning, permanence and impermanence, cessation and non-cessation, sentient beings and non-sentient beings?

Furthermore, regarding existence and void, reality and illusion, true Dao and non-Dao, nirvana and non-nirvana, the concealed and the revealed, dualistic and non-dual approaches—if you have any questions about these profound teachings, you may ask now. I will address each according to your confusions. Before answering, I shall first expound the profound meaning of "sweet dew" (metaphor for supreme wondrous Dharma), after which I shall return to the celestial realms.

When the Celestial Venerable (Tianzun, the highest Daoist deity) descended to the human realm, he lamented: "Obtaining human rebirth is already rare; encountering the true Dharma and developing faith is even rarer. Maintaining precepts unshaken and ultimately realizing supreme enlightenment is more difficult than seeking worldly gold and jade treasures. Having now escaped the Eight Hindrances (eight conditions preventing Dharma access) and obtained human form, yet still meeting my Dharma transmission—you truly shouldn't squander this opportunity."

"In past kalpas, I underwent countless trials—sacrificing limbs, heads, eyes, even marrow—to attain this supreme Dharma for your edification. Therefore, you must not be indolent or indulgent. Fellow cultivators, how should you construct the jeweled city of true Dharma? Use the three virtues of precepts, meditation, and wisdom as its walls, and adorn it with all attainments of practice."

"Now you've encountered this treasure-city of the Dao, yet still cling to falsehoods—like merchants passing a jeweled metropolis who gather only rubble to take home. So too do you seek mere fragments of the supreme Dharma. Do not be satisfied with superficial understanding. Though you've left household life, you've not developed thirst for the Great Vehicle Dharma; though wearing yellow robes (Daoist vestments), your hearts remain unstained by pure Dharma flavor; though wandering for alms, you've not sought nourishment from the Great Vehicle; though gathered as a spiritual community, you've not truly severed the bonds of affliction."

"Now I solemnly admonish you: The true Dharma appearance manifested through this harmonious assembly is utterly real. Therefore, you must practice diligently, gather your spirits, and courageously sever all afflictive bonds. The luminous wisdom of the ten directions is already fading—if you remain indolent, only the darkness of ignorance will envelop you."

This scripture employs metaphorical language to expound on the importance of "contemplating impermanence" (a meditation practice observing the transient nature of all phenomena). It states: Just as medicinal herbs on earth can cure illnesses, the Dharma I teach produces nectar-like wondrous teachings that become remedies for sentient beings' afflictions. I shall establish all beings and disciples within the "secret treasury" (referring to profound Buddhist truths), wherein I too shall abide, ultimately returning to the heavenly realms above.

What is this "secret treasury"? It flows continuously like the three temporal states of past, present, and future. The past never truly vanishes, the present never lingers, and the future never actually arrives. Spatial directions similarly lack fixed permanence. All Dharma gates are thus—appearing distinct yet fundamentally interconnected.

Upon hearing that the Celestial Worthy (referring to the supreme deity) would soon return to the heavens, the assembly wept sorrowfully, circumambulating the deity with tearful reverence. They proclaimed: The Celestial Worthy's teachings on impermanence contemplation are most sublime—as light as a bird's footprints. Diligent practice of this contemplation severs attachments to the Triple Realm, ignorance, arrogance, and other defilements. Like farmers eradicating weeds through autumn plowing, impermanence contemplation clears all afflictions. Just as emperors pardon prisoners at life's end, we implore the Celestial Worthy to liberate beings from ignorance's bonds before returning heavenward.

The assembly's statement about being unliberated subtly implores the deity's continued earthly guidance. Through multiple worldly analogies, this scripture emphasizes impermanence contemplation as an essential practice for severing attachments and attaining liberation.

Several metaphors illustrate the relationship between spiritual practitioners and the Celestial Master (Tianshi, the highest deity in Daoism). Like a person haunted by ghosts who finds relief through an exorcist's incantations, the Celestial Master similarly helps sentient beings dispel ignorance and afflictions, enabling them to cultivate virtue (De) and accumulate blessings with peace of mind.

Consider a fragrant bird bound by ropes—no skilled trainer can truly restrain it until the cords are cut, allowing it to fly freely. Practitioners today remain entangled by fifty-seven kinds of afflictions; how could one claim the Celestial Master would abandon them?

Another analogy is a malaria patient meeting a skilled physician: though symptoms may ease, full recovery remains distant. Practitioners, likewise, are troubled by delusions and emotional turmoil. Though guided by the Celestial Master, they have yet to attain the state of pure tranquility and liberation.

The most vivid metaphor is that of a drunkard: inebriated, they cannot distinguish between mother and sister, act recklessly, and collapse in filth. Only when sobering medicine takes effect do they awaken with shame. Practitioners trapped in the cycle of rebirth are like this drunkard, deluded by desires and confused about human relations. Only the Celestial Master's teachings, like antidotes, can help them expel the poisoned wine of afflictions.

The banana tree offers another lesson: though seemingly sturdy, it is hollow inside. If sentient beings cling to the notion of an eternal "self" or unchanging soul, this delusion is as absurd as praising the banana tree for its solidity. The human body is like squeezed fruit pulp—devoid of value—or a seven-petaled flower without fragrance. There is no such thing as a "true self."

The Celestial Master reveals this truth: all phenomena lack an independent, unchanging self. Practitioners should constantly contemplate this state of "no-self" (wú wǒ) and diligently cultivate according to the methods taught. These metaphors collectively show that sentient beings require the Celestial Master's continuous guidance to truly transcend afflictions.

The cultivator who can eliminate self-arrogance and transcend ego-attachment (the delusional fixation on "self") approaches the realm of the Supreme Celestial Worthy (the highest divinity in Daoism). This is like a bird flying across the sky—though traces seem visible, in truth nothing remains. Should anyone claim attainment of "selflessness" while still harboring delusional thoughts, such claims are equally illusory.

The Celestial Worthy then praised the cultivators, saying: Excellent! You have practiced the state of selflessness. The cultivators responded: We cultivate not only the contemplation of no-self (breaking ego-attachment), but also other crucial realizations—including the "contemplation of suffering" (recognizing life's inherent distress), the "contemplation of impermanence" (the transient nature of all phenomena), and the "contemplation of no-self" (shattering ego-delusion).

The Celestial Worthy offered a metaphor: Like a drunkard who sees the world spinning—mistaking mountains, cities, even the sun and moon as whirling objects. Those who fail to cultivate these three realizations (suffering, impermanence, and no-self) cannot be called sages. They indulge desires, trapped in the cycle of birth and death without liberation.

Further explaining, the Celestial Worthy said: The drunkard’s illusion of spinning celestial bodies mirrors the four inverted perceptions of sentient beings clouded by afflictions—mistaking "no-self" for "self," "impermanence" for "permanence," "impurity" for "purity," and "suffering" for "joy." These delusions are like the drunkard’s distorted vision, while truth reveals: "Self" signifies the Dao (cosmic origin), "permanence" points to the Dharma-body (eternal truth), "joy" leads to celestial realms, and "purity" embodies the true Dharma.

Finally, the Celestial Worthy revealed a superior practice: Completely dismantle these four root delusions—taking suffering as joy, impermanence as permanence, no-self as self, and impurity as purity. Those ignorant of these truths seek joy in an ocean of suffering, permanence within transience, selfhood where none exists, and purity amid defilement. All such pursuits are inverted fantasies.

This scripture elucidates the fundamental distinction between worldly dharma (conventional truth) and transcendental dharma (ultimate truth). Ordinary people (worldly dharma) typically fall into four inverted perceptions regarding existence: mistaking suffering for joy, impermanence for permanence, non-self for self, and impurity for purity. These distorted views cause them to grasp only superficial meanings without comprehending true reality.

Genuine wisdom (transcendental dharma) operates conversely: Only by realizing "non-self" can one transcend the cycle of rebirth, as the "true self" is actually a manifestation of the Celestial Worthy (Tiansun, the supreme Daoist deity). Understanding "impermanence" merely reflects the perspective of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas (Hinayana practitioners), while "permanence" represents the Dharma-body of the Celestial Worthy (the eternal truth shared by Buddhist and Daoist traditions). Seeing through "suffering" as attachment to heterodox paths (non-orthodox teachings), one discovers true "joy" exists in the highest heavenly realms (the Daoist Three Pure Realms/Sanqing). Recognizing "impurity" stems from conditioned phenomena (artificial constructs), while authentic "purity" belongs to the orthodox teachings of Celestial Worthies and Perfected Persons (those who have attained the Dao).

Disciples inquired of the Celestial Worthy: "Since you've transcended these four inverted views, why not remain in this world to guide us permanently?" The Worthy replied: "I have entrusted the supreme orthodox teachings to Lord Lao (Taishang Laojun, one of Daoism's highest deities). Like a prime minister appointed when an emperor travels abroad, he shall serve as your guide. The concepts of impermanence and suffering you previously practiced were merely provisional understandings—like springtime travelers mistaking heat haze (optical refraction) for water. Lord Lao will lead you to comprehend higher truths."

This scripture presents two allegorical tales. In the first, a group of people boating on a lake accidentally drop a precious lapis lazuli jewel into deep waters. They all dive in to search, yet each emerges clutching different objects—some grab pottery shards, others pick up stones, plants, or gravel, each mistakenly believing they've found the jewel. Only when they surface do they realize their error, for the true jewel remains submerged. Remarkably, the jewel's power has purified the water, making it crystal clear so the treasure becomes visible at the bottom, as distinctly as the moon shining in the night sky. Later, a wise man calmly enters the water and effortlessly retrieves the jewel.

Through this parable, the Celestial Lord (Taoism's supreme deity) reveals a common spiritual pitfall: many practitioners mistake transient concepts like impermanence, suffering, non-self, and impurity for ultimate truth—much like confusing pottery shards for the jewel. Authentic cultivation requires applying wisdom to maintain constant awareness of true self, eternal joy, and pure states of being. The four preliminary practices (impermanence, suffering, non-self, and impurity) are ultimately inverted perceptions. True practice resembles the wise jewel-retriever, who realizes the ultimate reality of true self, eternal bliss, and purity.

The second allegory tells of a foolish king who employs an inept physician prescribing only milk for all ailments, ignorant of disease origins. When a skilled doctor versed in eight healing methods arrives, the old physician reacts with arrogant disdain rather than seeking guidance. Yet the wise newcomer humbly apprentices himself to the ignorant healer, eventually learning secret prescriptions.

Both parables illuminate the same truth: spiritual practice must transcend partial understanding. Genuine wisdom requires abandoning ego-attachment and arrogance. The first story cautions against clinging to "non-self" concepts, while the second emphasizes shedding preconceptions to learn humbly. Only by relinquishing ego-attachment and pride can practitioners reach higher realms—ultimately attaining complete liberation.

This passage recounts a parable about the transition between an old and new physician. In ancient times, there was an unskilled old doctor who was later replaced by a highly competent new physician. The new doctor taught the king how to discern medical practice, revealing that the old doctor's prescription (using milk as medicine) was actually poisonous and caused many commoners to die untimely deaths. Upon realizing this, the king banished the old physician and issued a nationwide prohibition against milk-based remedies.

The new doctor then prepared innovative prescriptions incorporating bitter, salty, sweet, and sour flavors, successfully curing numerous patients. Later, when the king himself fell ill with fever, the new physician surprisingly recommended milk as treatment. Furious, the king challenged him: "You previously declared milk poisonous, yet now claim it can cure—isn't this contradictory?" The new doctor explained: "Earlier, I condemned milk to eradicate harmful practices. Now that Your Majesty suffers from heat disorder, milk is indeed the correct remedy."

This allegory uses the physicians' story to metaphorically illustrate how spiritual cultivation requires both the dismantling of erroneous old beliefs and the flexible application of methods according to circumstances. Just as the new doctor first strictly prohibited the poisonous remedy only to judiciously reinstate its beneficial use when appropriate, this exemplifies the wisdom of "prescribing medicine according to the disease." The parable embodies the Daoist principle of adapting methods to changing conditions while maintaining fundamental truth.

This passage recounts a parable about old and new physicians and medicinal milk. A king fell ill, and a newly arrived physician pointed out the flaws in the old doctor's approach: the latter prescribed milk-based medicine indiscriminately to all patients, like worms gnawing random patterns in wood without understanding true calligraphy.

The new physician explained that medicinal milk could be either healing or poisonous. Genuine curative milk required specific conditions: cows must not consume distiller's grains or slippery grasses, should graze in suitable environments, drink clean water, avoid roaming freely, and never be pastured with calves. Only milk produced under such conditions could cure illness—this was called "nectar of sublime medicine" (甘露妙药). All other variants were toxic.

Upon hearing this, the king had an epiphany and ordered the kingdom to use only properly prepared milk. The people initially reacted with fury, accusing the king of being possessed or mad. The king clarified that this was the physician's guidance, not his whim. After compliance, all ailments were cured, and the populace praised the new physician's wisdom.

This medical allegory illustrates a Daoist principle: cultivation methods (symbolized by medicinal milk) must be correctly understood and applied. Blind adherence (like the old physician's practice) brings harm instead of benefit. Authentic methods (the "nectar") demand strict conditions and proper guidance.