《甘水仙源錄》Vol. 9

The ninth volume of Ganshui Xianyuan Lu (Records of Immortal Sources at Sweetwater) contains an inscription regarding the reconstruction of Zhidao Abbey in Qindu Town, Huxian County, Shaanxi. Collected and compiled by the Yuan dynasty Daoist Li Daoqian, the text was composed by Yu Yingmao, former instructor of Ezhou.

The inscription begins by elucidating the fundamental principles behind the founding of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition by Patriarch Wang Chongyang. The term "Quanzhen" refers to grasping the most primordial truth of the cosmos—the authentic reality of Wuji (the Limitless). This truth represents the exquisite fusion of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), serving as the source of all virtuous conduct in the world. The veneration of patriarchs is emphasized because establishing this spiritual lineage cultivates more virtuous individuals. When virtuous people multiply, the court becomes upright, and peace naturally prevails under heaven.

The text profoundly expounds on the nature of the Dao (the Way): Ontologically, it is vast beyond measure yet subtle beyond detection; functionally, it manifests everywhere at all times. The Dao neither increases with sage rulers like Yao and Shun nor decreases with tyrants like Jie and Zhou. It is neither deficient for fools nor excessive for sages. This is because the operation of primordial Qi (vital energy) follows its own principles: Yang Qi is firm and strong, Yin Qi is gentle and yielding, while the Five Phases each maintain their proper positions. Humans become human precisely by receiving these Qi configurations.

The principle of Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) manifests through firmness in action and gentleness in foundation, regulated by benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom. Those who comprehend this principle truly grasp the Dao. Heaven (the father) and Earth (the mother) endow humans with complete Five Natures and pure heavenly principles, yet people often lose their innate authenticity through cravings, violence, fame, profit, and anger. Without preserving this purity, virtuous individuals become scarce in the world, making state governance difficult.

Only those who genuinely realize the Great Dao can become teachers to emperors and models for future generations. Implementing this Daoist method creates simple and honest social customs, while violating it invites calamity. Historical contrasts illustrate this: Yang Ziyun, failing to understand this Dao, served the usurper Wang Mang (a disgraceful act) and ultimately leaped to his death from a tower (a shocking end). Zhang Zifang, comprehending the Dao, not only assisted the Han dynasty (a glorious achievement) but also retired to practice immortality with Master Chisong (a transcendent journey).

The text concludes with examples of ancient sage-kings: The Yellow Emperor sought the Dao from Guangchengzi, establishing an era of effortless governance; Emperor Shun learned from the recluses Chao Fu and Xu You, bringing peace to the realm; King Wuding of Shang also prospered through Dao cultivation. These cases prove that following heavenly principles brings auspicious outcomes.

The origins of spiritual cultivation trace back to the sweet waters of Ganshui. During the Shang dynasty revival, the renowned minister Gan Pan practiced Daoist cultivation here, demonstrating that the Dao's methods remain hidden without worthy recipients.

The Supreme Lord Lao (highest Daoist deity) manifested during the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties as the Archivist at the Pillar. Witnessing the decline of Zhou dynasty governance and the impossibility of implementing the Great Dao, he composed the Daode Jing (Classic of the Way and Virtue) for posterity. The text declares "the Dao is vast and boundless" and asserts that "sage-kings stand equal with heaven and earth" - ideas resonating with Confucius' philosophy of honoring sovereign virtue.

Zhuangzi (the Perfected of Southern Florescence) lived through the Warring States turmoil, serving as a minor official overseeing lacquer gardens. Unable to implement his ideals amidst the chaos, he entrusted the Great Dao to his writings. His interpretation of the Yijing (Book of Changes) elucidates yin-yang transformations, while his understanding of the Spring and Autumn Annals clarifies social hierarchies - both aligning with Confucian principles of honoring proper order.

During the Western Han, four recluses (the Four Eminent Elders) employed Daoist methods to stabilize the crown prince's position. Eastern Han's Yan Guang (Yan Ziling) assisted Emperor Guangwu's restoration using Daoist wisdom. Through successive dynasties - Jin, Song, Qi, Liang up to Tang and Song - the Great Dao's transmission continued unbroken. Perfected beings like Xu Xun (Xu Jingyang), Ge Hong (Ge Goulou), Tao Hongjing, Kou Qianzhi, Sima Chengzhen (Sima Ziwei), Zhongli Quan (Donghua), and Lü Dongbin (Chunyang) all excelled at guiding rulers through Daoist teachings. Lü Dongbin's miraculous manifestations remain legendary to this day.

Thus did Patriarch Wang Chongyang inherit this orthodox Daoist lineage. Originally from Liquan, Shaanxi with the surname Wang, he attained the jinshi degree during the early Jin dynasty. Towering in stature with piercing eyes and elegant beard, he spurned worldly honors amidst turbulent times, preferring mountain streams and seclusion in Zhongnan Mountain's Liujiang village. At Ganhe town, he encountered Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin, receiving secret Daoist instructions and taking the Daoist name "Chongyangzi." Planting four crabapple trees at his dwelling's corners, he later journeyed eastward to Shandong with his staff. When asked his destination, he cryptically replied: "I go to capture the horse among Qiu, Liu, and Tan." Though initially obscure, this prophecy fulfilled when he gathered his four great disciples - Ma Yu (Danyangzi), Tan Chuduan, Liu Chuxuan, and Qiu Chuji - with Ma Yu becoming the most accomplished in Daoist practice.

This passage recounts the stories of four early patriarchs of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition, an important Daoist school. As Wang Chongyang (founder of Quanzhen) approached death in Bianliang (modern Kaifeng), he told his disciples: "My celestial appointment with the Sovereign Lord of Eastern Florescence (Donghua Dijun), Zhongli Quan, and Lü Dongbin cannot be delayed. I entrust my affairs to Liu-Jiang Village. You must diligently propagate the Quanzhen teachings." After bathing and changing robes, he passed away peacefully, with officials and dignitaries from Bianliang coming to pay respects.

His four principal disciples—Danyangzi Tan Chuduan, Changzhenzi Liu Chuxuan, Changshengzi Qiu Chuji, and Changchunzi Ma Yu—escorted the coffin back to Guanzhong. Following Wang's final instructions, they buried him at Liu-Jiang Village (present-day Huyi County's Chongyang Palace site in Shaanxi). After the funeral, the four masters rested beneath the dense shade of trees at Zhenwu Hall in Qindu Town, hearts heavy with longing for their teacher. As they clasped hands in farewell, each vowed solemnly to fulfill their master's legacy:

Changchunzi retreated to Panxi (near modern Baoji), Changshengzi dwelled by the Chan River in eastern Zhou territory, Changzhenzi settled south of Chaoyuan Abbey, while Danyangzi alone returned to Liu-Jiang Village to establish a Daoist temple—later renowned as the Chongyang Wan Shou Gong (Longevity Palace) on Zhongnan Mountain. Thus began Quanzhen's gradual flourishing, with the patriarchs' virtue (De) shining ever brighter.

During the Jin Dynasty's Xingding era (1217-1222), devotees admiring the four perfected beings (zhenren) built a temple at Zhenwu Hall's original site for incense offerings, which the court named "Zhidao Guan" (Temple of Aspiring to the Dao). As the Jin Dynasty collapsed amid social upheaval, the temple was destroyed by war. Even after the Yuan Dynasty reunified China and restored neglected institutions, Zhidao Guan's ruins remained overgrown.

One day, the perfected being Yu Zhidao passed through Qindu Town. Gazing at the desolate site, he felt a sense of responsibility akin to Yu the Great taming floods or Yao and Shun governing wisely. He dispatched disciple Luo Zhitong to gather craftsmen for reconstruction, summon followers, and not only restore the patriarchs' legacy but also promote Daoist traditions—making the spiritual achievements of Quanzhen's five founders (Wang Chongyang and his four disciples) an enduring foundation. When the author visited the temple and found discrepancies between stele inscriptions and historical records, Luo Zhitong requested an accurate account of the four perfected beings' deeds.

Concluding with Sima Qian's perspective from Records of the Grand Historian, the author observes that among the Hundred Schools of Thought, Confucianism and Daoism stand preeminent. Though their expressions differ, their essence converges—Confucianism speaks of "principle" (li) while Daoism reveals "subtle mechanism" (ji, profound workings). Integrating both leads to the great Dao of governing the world.

This passage interprets the cultivation principles of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school, a major Daoist tradition, through Confucian parallels. The author suggests that Patriarch Wang Chongyang's naming of the school as "Quanzhen" (Complete Perfection) fundamentally aligns with the Confucian ideal of "authenticity without falsehood." His methods of refining the physical form and cultivating the mind subtly resonate with the profound principles in the Book of Changes regarding "exhausting the mysteries and comprehending transformations."

When Patriarch Wang's coffin was returned for burial, his disciples' devotion mirrored the scene of Confucius' disciples weeping at their master's passing—some carried forward his teachings, while others built huts to guard his tomb in filial piety. Later, the second-generation master Qiu Chuji (Changchun Zhenren), at the age of 74, journeyed westward to meet Genghis Khan. With his virtue of cherishing life, he moved the ruler and halted bloodshed with a single admonition, much like Mencius' counsel to rulers that "only by renouncing slaughter can one unify the world."

The author emphasizes that the Daoist methods of the Quanzhen masters not only served as models for rulers but also fostered universal peace, standing in stark contrast to the eclectic practices of the fangshi (esoteric specialists) during the Qin and Han dynasties. Today's unified script, standardized measures, and enlightened governance confirm the foresight of Wang Chongyang planting the symbolic "teaching海棠" (begonia, representing transmission) and the Seven Quanzhen Masters (including Qiu, Liu, Tan, and Ma) propagating the Great Dao.

To ordinary eyes, these methods may seem inscrutable, but the realized understand they embody the simplest truth: "guarding the One and preserving authenticity." Though transcendent, Quanzhen practitioners maintained loyalty to rulers and filial devotion; though reclusive, their compassion for all beings grew deeper. Their sincere practice of "non-action" (Wuwei) manifested the responsive workings of the Dao—Qiu Chuji's prescience coexisted with unadorned simplicity, and his disciples' continuity of purpose greatly benefited governance.

The concluding eulogy describes: The vast formless body of the Dao manifests through the differentiation of Yin-Yang. This arcane principle circulates between heaven and earth (the "eight horizons" symbolizing cosmic expanse), yet only humans can fathom its true essence.

Among all beings, humans hold the most precious position because they can comprehend the principles of life and death. Yet people often become deluded by desires, their minds constantly fluctuating. The Daoist methods transmitted by immortals through the ages aim to preserve that eternal, unchanging true nature. Had it not been for Patriarch Chongyang (Wang Chongyang, founder of the Quanzhen tradition) first awakening to the great Dao, who could have elucidated these profound truths for us? The key to cultivating the Dao lies in harmonizing the subtle energies of yin-yang and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water). When one resolves to practice the Dao and return to the source, complete renewal becomes possible. Those who attain the Dao often remain in the world, their Dao practice perfected and virtue pure. The transmission from the Patriarch through the four masters will endure eternally like perpetual spring.

(Record of the Joint Burial at Chushun Hall in Beijing's Baiyun Temple)

This record was composed by lay practitioner Chen Shike, styled Jitong. After the passing of Changchun Zhenren (Qiu Chuji), his dharma successor Yin Zhiping (Master Yin) converted the eastern residence of the temple into Baiyun Temple in preparation for burial arrangements. On the first day of the third lunar month the following year, Master Yin gathered disciples and said: "Keeping our master's coffin temporarily in Baoguang Hall is ultimately improper. I intend to select a site at Baiyun Temple to construct a hall for burial—what do you think?" Some worried about the massive construction costs and insufficient funds, to which Master Yin replied: "We perform this filial duty to repay our master—why fear failure? Moreover, our master's virtuous influence spread widely—which disciple wouldn't honor his memory? Help will naturally come. Even if funds prove insufficient, we can exhaust the temple's resources and go on alms rounds with our bowls if necessary." Construction began on the third day of the fourth month, and within four days hundreds of Daoist companions from Yunzhong and Hedong arrived carrying provisions. In just forty days, the magnificent Chushun Hall was completed, allowing the immortal master's proper burial. The exact dates and events were already recorded in the main stele.

Later, someone requested I compose this additional record to inscribe the names of all funeral participants on the stele's reverse side, commemorating the grand occasion. When I agreed, someone smilingly asked me: "When Zhuangzi was dying, his disciples wanted an elaborate burial. Zhuangzi said, 'I take heaven and earth as my coffin, the sun and moon as paired jades, the stars as pearls—with all creation as my burial offerings—is this not sufficient?' When disciples worried his corpse would be eaten by crows, Zhuangzi replied, 'Above ground it's eaten by crows, below by ants—you're just taking from the crows to give to the ants.'" (This dialogue hints at Daoism's philosophical detachment toward burial customs.)

When Laozi (also known as Lao Dan) passed away, his friend Qin Yi came to mourn him. After only three cries, he departed, saying: "Laozi came at the proper time and left in accordance with nature. Those who are at peace with destiny and follow the natural course cannot be disturbed by sorrow or joy." The ancients called this state the "Emperor's Release from Suspension" - the supreme liberation from life and death.

Nowadays, though the disciples of Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji) named their Daoist hall "Abiding in Accordance," when their master returned to truth (the Daoist term for the passing of an enlightened being), they busied themselves with funeral arrangements, weeping in grief. The burial ceremony was especially elaborate, with over ten thousand monastics and laypeople attending from all directions, requiring government troops to maintain order. How could such lavish funeral rites align with the original intent of Laozi and Zhuangzi?

Some respond that with Changchunzi's spiritual attainment, he had long seen through the dreamlike nature of life and death. Yet his disciples, moved by gratitude for their teacher's kindness, felt compelled to act thus. One must understand the distinction between "principle" (fundamental truth) and "practice" (concrete affairs) - transcending sorrow and joy while disregarding physical form belongs to "principle," the cultivation of sages beyond worldly concerns; whereas honoring the departed with proper rites belongs to "practice," the proper etiquette of human society. To cling solely to "principle" while neglecting "practice" would itself be another form of attachment.

To draw a Confucian analogy: ancient burial customs simply wrapped the deceased in straw and interred them in wilderness, with no mounds, trees, or fixed mourning periods. Later sages introduced coffins, embodying through the "Great Excess" hexagram (symbolizing transcendence of norms) their reverence for the departed. After Confucius's passing, his disciples observed three years of mourning, with Zigong building a hut by the grave to live alone for three years. Now Changchunzi's disciples, while studying Daoist philosophy, also honor their teacher like Zigong - how can this be considered contrary to spiritual understanding?

If weeping is said to hinder Dao cultivation, what of laughter? The Doctrine of the Mean states: "When joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure have not yet arisen, this is called the Center; when they arise in proper measure, this is called Harmony." The Center is the root of all under heaven; Harmony is the path to universal connection. As long as emotional expression maintains proper measure, both tears and laughter are natural.

This passage records the founding of Qingzhen Temple in Huai Prefecture's Xiuwu County by Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist patriarch Qiu Chuji (styled Changchunzi) and his disciples during the Jin-Yuan period.

In his early years, Qiu departed from Laizhou in Shandong and spent over a decade in secluded cultivation at Panxi in Shaanxi. His virtuous conduct (De) earned him an imperial summons from Emperor Shizong of Jin. While passing through Shanyang region, he recognized the excellent feng shui of the area and told his disciples: "Among our Quanzhen temples, Wuguan Temple ranks first, Bindu Temple second, and Shengshui Temple third. If you establish a temple here, it will equal Bindu and Shengshui in reputation."

The disciples obtained land from local gentry Ma Zi'an, and after years of construction, the temple took shape. A large spring nearby irrigated thousands of mu of farmland, with rice paddies and lotus ponds connecting to Sumen Mountain amidst dense bamboo groves. The Taihang Mountain peaks stood like carved jade, with ever-changing clouds at dawn and dusk creating scenery so captivating it had once made Jin Dynasty literati forget their homeward journey.

During the Da'an era (1209-1212) of the Jin Dynasty, the court officially named it "Qingzhen Temple." Qiu appointed his accomplished disciple Liu Zhimin to oversee temple affairs, and the congregation grew to over a hundred followers. Tragically, the temple was destroyed during wartime turmoil in the fourth year of Xingding (1220).

The text includes elegiac verses mourning Liu Zhimin, depicting his ascension to immortality: riding clouds back to the celestial realm, leaving behind incorruptible bones with lifelike countenance and pristine robes. Disciples believed their master, though transcended, would periodically return on phoenix-borne visits to bless the temple. The passage concludes by exhorting later generations to maintain reverent daily practice and propagate the teachings of the Mysterious Gate (a Daoist epithet).

In the year of Great Xinmao, Ling Deming, a disciple of Zhimin, renovated the Daoist temple for residence, and now the community of Daoist practitioners supported there has reached a thousand. When I traveled from Daliang (present-day Kaifeng) to Liaocheng as a guest, Fang Zhiqi, a fellow disciple of Deming, invited me through officials of the military government—Qi Wenju, Lang Wenbing, Zhao Shangbin, and others—to compose an inscription. Both Ling Deming and Fang Zhiqi, Daoist masters of noble character, were willing to accompany me on my travels, and so I recorded these observations in order.

Since the upheavals in the Divine Land (China), the only religious tradition that has remained intact is the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school, an important branch of Daoism. Consider how the sages, with profound foresight for future generations, established the fourfold system of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, and set forth the ethical norms of the Three Bonds and Five Constants: each profession fulfills its role, and between father and son there is kindness and filial piety, between brothers there is fraternal love, between ruler and minister there is solemn duty, and between husband and wife there is harmony—each with its proper standard. The court appointed the Nine Ministers, with the Minister of Education (Situ) and the scholars jointly upholding benevolence, righteousness, rites, music, statutes, and laws. The people plowed the fields for food, raised silkworms for clothing, and in life and death, burial and mourning, each found their proper place. The brilliance of ritual and music was a sight to behold—all this was the grace of the sages' teachings.

Such teaching is as natural as eating when hungry and clothing oneself when cold. It extends from the individual to the family, and from the family to the world—never to be departed from even for a moment. Even after a hundred or a thousand generations, its essence remains unchanged. This is the truth of teaching, and within it lies the Dao (the Way). As the ancients said, "Heaven protects the people by appointing rulers and teachers," yet whether the Dao can be implemented ultimately depends on Heaven's will. Now, for nearly thirty years, the office of the Minister of Education and the duties of scholars have been abandoned. The cold have no clothes, the hungry no food—this perverse state is as described in the Book of the Great Plan (Huangji Shu): since the decline of the Kingly Way, the world has fallen into the chaos of war, and living beings suffer as if scorched or drowned.

In this age, human hearts are no longer as in ancient times, and customs have decayed. People take pleasure in calamity, exalt violence and slaughter, and the trend of mutual harm grows ever stronger. When Master Qiu Chuji (founder of Quanzhen Daoism) was summoned to the Dragon Court (the Mongol Khan's court), his single admonition on governing and protecting the people concerned the lives of millions—its influence even surpassing the achievements of Feng Dao (a renowned minister of the Five Dynasties) in advising the Khitan ruler. The reason Quanzhen Daoism has won the faith of the world lies precisely in this spirit of aiding the world. Today, Daoist followers already make up two-tenths of the population, their momentum shaking the four seas. Even the violent and ignorant are moved by its transformative power.

This stele inscription documents the founding of Lingxu Temple in Zuocheng County, Weizhou during the Jin-Yuan period and the transformative influence of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition, an important Daoist school.

During the Zhenyou era of the Jin Dynasty, frequent warfare ravaged the land, and Weizhou became a strategic military stronghold garrisoned with heavy troops. After Mongol forces captured the region in the Renchen year (1232), a devastating famine struck the capital the following year, driving people to cannibalism in their desperation, with over a thousand refugees fleeing daily in search of food. When these displaced masses reached the Yellow River crossing, ferrymen extorted them by deliberately delaying passage, leading to hundreds freezing, starving, or drowning in the river.

Amid this chaos, only the Quanzhen teachings spread widely, converting even the most violent and bloodthirsty individuals, who took Daoist names seeking refuge from calamity. Li Zhichang (Daoist name: Perfected Lord Xuanwei), a Quanzhen priest who witnessed the suffering, lamented: "How has the world sunk to this? Human hearts overflow with murderous intent. Though I intended to journey north to spread the Dao, how can I leave in such circumstances?" He remained at the river crossing and established Lingxu Temple to guide the people through Daoist teachings.

Remarkably, after the temple's founding, local customs transformed swiftly. The once greedy and cruel became gentle and kind-hearted. People at the ferry crossing repented their misdeeds and turned toward virtue, with seekers of wisdom arriving in an unending stream. Like quenching a raging wildfire or delivering beings from the sea of suffering, Quanzhen's civilizing influence restored peace to this land steeped in bloodshed.

The inscription concludes by emphasizing that in an age when ritual propriety and morality had collapsed, and laws and punishments proved useless, only a spiritual community like Quanzhen—dedicated to preserving one's "true nature" (quanzhen)—could fundamentally redeem both society and the human heart.

This passage recounts the life and spiritual teachings of Daoist Master Zhiyuan, a realized adept (zhenren) of the Daoist tradition. In his thirties, Master Zhiyuan renounced household life to study under Master Bixuzi of Mount Fu, where he received authentic transmission.

When instructing disciples, he emphasized that cultivation pivoted on two principles: "Oneness" (yi) and "Emptiness" (xu). Human life, he taught, depends on essence (jing) and spirit (shen) – core concepts in Daoist practice – and stabilizing the spirit requires maintaining emptiness and tranquility. "Oneness" governs the hun and po souls, while "Emptiness" forms the foundation of all phenomena. As the Daode Jing states: "Heaven attains Oneness and becomes clear; Earth attains Oneness and finds peace; Spirit attains Oneness and manifests efficacy." By reaching ultimate emptiness and preserving profound stillness, one perceives the cyclical patterns of creation.

He expounded: "Through emptiness, Heaven-Earth nurtures all beings; through emptiness, sun-moon illuminates universally; through emptiness, mountains-rivers generate clouds, rain, and thunder; through emptiness, the human heart becomes nature's sovereign." Achieving supreme emptiness, he taught, required refining vital energy (qi), maintaining serenity, and purging emotional distractions. Master Zhiyuan named his dwelling "Lingxu" (Numinous Emptiness), urging disciples to reverently embody these truths.

Living with utmost simplicity, he declined prolonged stays despite receiving offerings from eight or nine out of ten local households. His teachings spread widely across regions north of the Yellow River.

In the Bingwu year (specific date uncertain), the emperor summoned him to Yanjing (modern Beijing) for a grand zhaijiao purification ritual. There, the sovereign conferred the title "Perfected Being of Mysterious Subtlety" (Xuanwei Zhenren) and bestowed ritual robes with jeweled crown. During the Jiayin spring, he returned to the capital for another ritual, before achieving feathered transformation (yuhua, the Daoist term for an adept's transcendence) that summer in Changchun Temple. When disciples opened his coffin, his countenance remained lifelike.

That November, disciples including Wang Zhi'an observed three days of mourning rituals wearing hempen mourning garments (cuidie), grieving as for departed parents. As the funeral procession began, auspicious clouds drifted from the northeast, dispersing only when reaching the southwestern riverbank.

That night, the northern wind howled fiercely enough to tear roofs away, yet the boat about to cross the river remained as steady as if moving on solid ground—truly miraculous. In the spring of the fifth year of the Zhongtong era (1264), Wang Zhi'an and others, wishing to ensure their master's virtue (De) would endure through the ages, came bearing gifts and said: "The cultivation deeds of our late master (Qiu Chuji) are profound and unfathomable. Wherever his teachings reached, traces of his presence followed. But without written records of these wondrous experiences that transformed people and the origins of the Taoist temples he established, how will future generations know of them?"

Though I was originally a Confucian scholar, holding principles different from Daoist teachings, I was deeply moved by their sincere devotion to honoring their master and tracing their roots. Thus, I agreed to record what I had witnessed and heard. The Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) School initially advocated cultivating truth and nurturing one's nature, withdrawing from worldly affairs to live like deer in mountain forests—a demanding practice indeed. Yet later, they integrated into human society like cicadas shedding their muddy shells, making aiding the world and benefiting the people their daily practice. Is this not using the true Dao (Way) to cultivate oneself, employing surplus strength to govern the state, and applying simplicity to rule the world?

When the Changchun Zhenren (Perfected Immortal Qiu Chuji) met Genghis Khan, he first emphasized the fundamentals of governing and pacifying the people—how vast were his merits in benefiting humanity! Now, observing how the Xuanyi Zhenren (Li Zhichang, the transmission master) conducted himself, had their positions been reversed, his actions would surely have been the same. Therefore, I composed these writings and added a poem for the disciples to commemorate the immortal traces:

The great Dao (Way) originates from heavenly principles—

The profound truths first explored by ancient historians

Were later grasped only superficially by others.

Those who sought immortality through elixirs and ritual prayers—

The Quanzhen School pointed directly to the mind,

Like opening a jade casket,

Taking the heart's inner space as their field of cultivation.

The Seven Perfected Ones (Quanzhen's founding masters)

Dredged the river's path,

Their virtuous light still illuminates later generations.

The Zhenren emerged from Yuanyue Mountain,

His nature empty, still, and singular,

Viewing all things displaced as his own failing.

See the giant fish in the raging Yellow River,

Greedily devouring yet never satisfied,

While the people of Bianliang often escape death

Like crossing on a boat of glue (a Zhuangzi metaphor for surviving peril).

(Note: The "Seven Masters" refer to Wang Chongyang and his six disciples; "boat of glue" alludes to a Zhuangzi parable about surviving danger; "Yellow Stone" refers to the legendary Daoist immortal Huang Shigong.)

This passage consists of two parts: a eulogistic poem honoring Master Chongyang (Wang Chongyang), and an inscribed stele record from the Chongyang Temple in Dengzhou. Here is the modern interpretation:

The poem depicts Master Chongyang's transcendent image: dressed in tattered robes yet profoundly accomplished in Daoist practice, appearing drunken yet concealing deep wisdom. Like extracting a whale's whisker to dispel illusions, he transformed the turbid world into clear springs, saving northern refugees without claiming merit. His realm surpassed the mundane, resembling ancient trees wreathed in purple mists. The line "the yellow crane once gone never returns" metaphorically describes the master's ascension to immortality. Though the Zhongnan and Hua Mountains stand majestic, his traces remain elusive, leaving only celestial connections in the Golden Flower Mountain. The conclusion laments worldly attachments while hoping the master might ride his immortal carriage back to earth.

The stele record expounds philosophy through natural phenomena: plum trees bearing fruit in winter and pear trees blooming in autumn represent anomalies defying natural order. The author observes that withered things reviving violates heavenly Dao, while humans returning to primal simplicity aligns with it. Heavenly Dao operates through Qi (vital energy), human Dao through Shen (spirit). Though skies may temporarily darken, clarity always returns; but once humans lose their innate nature, recovering purity becomes difficult. Just as frost-damaged trees revive after days of sunny Yang energy rising from earth, yet human hearts abandoning simplicity while indulging desires constitute the gravest abnormality.

The inscription particularly emphasizes: Laozi (the Archivist) advocated "returning to the Uncarved Block," considering primal simplicity as the Yang (active) path. Later occultists deviated from this root, abandoning true cultivation for superficial techniques, causing the essential teaching of "simplicity as Yang" to fade. The author suggests the temple's name "Chongyang" (Double Yang) warns practitioners to return to Laozi's fundamental teaching—humans are born with nine parts simplicity and one part confusion, maintaining infant-like natural virtue.

This passage recounts the deeds of Wang Chongyang (founder of the Quanzhen [Complete Perfection] tradition) and his disciples, while expounding the cultivation principle of "attaining Yang through simplicity."

The text describes how maintaining one's original simplicity resembles the uncontaminated state of an infant. This "simplicity" isn't foolishness, but rather a pure condition untainted by sensory temptations of colors and flavors—the true source of Yang Qi. To abandon this innate simplicity while pursuing Yang would be as futile as beating a drum while searching for a lost child. Wang Chongyang was precisely the kind of master who profoundly understood this truth.

Originally named Wang Zhe with the courtesy name Zhiming, Wang Chongyang excelled in both literary and martial arts. During the Fuchang era of the Jin dynasty, he renounced official pursuits. In his forties, he encountered two extraordinary beings who awakened him to profound mysteries. He later achieved ascension in Bianliang (modern Kaifeng). His disciples like Wang Daoxian established Daoist temples that received imperial plaques.

The text particularly mentions a certain Wang Li from Penglai who studied Daoism under Wang Chongyang's disciples in his youth, then served decades as a frontier soldier. In old age, yearning for Daoist tranquility, he funded the construction of a temple near his hometown shrine, inviting Chongyang's disciples to preside—bearing all expenses personally.

The author concludes by warning future generations through the principle of "attaining Yang through simplicity": Primordial simplicity is the root of Yuan Qi (Primordial Energy), containing Yang within its formless nature. Since the six sensory organs (eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind) generate desires, our essence becomes eroded like moonlight. Those who can withdraw scattered Shen (spirit) and maintain infant-like purity will restore Yang Qi to the Supreme Clarity realm. True adepts abandon cleverness to directly grasp the essence of Qi.

The passage concludes with an account of establishing Beijing's Yuqing Temple, ending with "wordless words form the true inscription"—emphasizing how Dao's ultimate truth transcends verbal expression.

This passage recounts stories of benevolent physicians during the Jin-Yuan period, beginning with an important principle: even ordinary people can help others if they maintain kind intentions and care for all beings. Virtuous individuals of ancient times would fulfill their capabilities within their circumstances when facing adversity, and when compelled by necessity, would take healing the populace as their sacred duty.

For instance, the renowned Tang dynasty minister Lu Zhi (posthumously titled Duke Xuan) assisted Emperor Dezong with Confucian benevolence and righteousness. During his late years when exiled to Zhongzhou, he researched medicinal formulas in his humble dwelling to treat local commoners. Similarly, the Song dynasty statesman Fan Zhongyan (posthumously titled Wenzheng) famously declared: "When achieving one's aspirations, become a teacher to emperors; when thwarted by circumstance, become a good physician." Those possessing true benevolence always keep the salvation of humanity in their hearts, never abandoning their fundamental duty due to unfavorable circumstances.

The narrative then focuses on the hermit Ma Tianlin (courtesy name Junrui), whose family had resided for generations in Dexing, Shanggu. His ancestors were all highly skilled yet unassuming physicians. During the Dading and Mingchang eras of the Jin dynasty, his father served as an army physician. In his youth, Ma Tianlin became fluent in Jurchen language and served as an interpreter at the Marshal's office for over a decade. After the fall of the Jin dynasty, he crossed the Yellow River to live in seclusion, frequently associating with Daoist priest Li Chongxu.

When northern rebellions erupted later, Ma Tianlin witnessed wounded soldiers suffering without medical care in military camps. He then employed his ancestral medical knowledge to prepare herbal powders, saving numerous lives. A Mongol nobleman named Nayan Xianggong suffering from alcohol-induced abdominal distension was completely cured by just one dose of his medicine, leading to profound gratitude and lasting friendship between them. Subsequently, Ma Tianlin became a disciple of Quanzhen Daoist master Yu Zhenren of the Dongzhen lineage, continuing both his spiritual cultivation and humanitarian service.

This passage records the deeds of Daoist Master Qingyizi (his religious name) who established the Jade Purity Temple (Yuqing Guan) in the Yan region (present-day Beijing area). He chose a site near the Eastern Peak Traveling Shrine (a temple dedicated to the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak) in Ganquan District and, with the support of local residents, cleared several acres of wilderness to procure building materials for the temple. The facility served to accommodate itinerant Daoist priests and provide food and lodging. The temple complex included a main hall (enshrining the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning, Yuanshi Tianzun), a vegetarian dining hall, dormitories, a kitchen, vegetable gardens, and a well—all arranged in an orderly layout.

Master Qingyizi would travel annually to Changzhou (modern Hebei) during summer and return each autumn, maintaining this cyclical routine. When interacting with dignitaries, he dedicated all medicinal gifts and donations to the temple’s communal use, keeping nothing for himself. Fellow Daoists like the Na brothers and Li Zhixuan assisted him in completing the temple’s construction as they collectively pursued the teachings of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi (Huang-Lao thought) and the cultivation methods of Zhuangzi and Liezi.

He maintained a thirty-year friendship with Li Zhitong, the Taiji Temple’s administrative head (Taiji Zhigong), and Master Liu Zhi’an of Danyang. In his final illness, he entrusted them with preserving the Jade Purity Temple as a center for transmitting the Dao, instructing that his final admonitions be engraved on a stele for posterity. The text particularly highlights his generosity and rigorous discipline—whenever the Daoist patriarch Zhenchangzi journeyed north for imperial audiences, Master Qingyizi would meticulously prepare all reception arrangements in advance.

The account concludes with an encomium: Throughout his life, Master Qingyizi strictly upheld Daoist precepts, valuing righteousness above wealth and devoting himself to propagating the Dao. He was exacting with himself yet lenient toward others, tirelessly managing logistical support for traveling devotees along Changzhou’s vital postal routes—a testament to his utter dedication. (Note: The original text’s concluding phrase "sealed with an inscription" indicates a formal commemorative verse that remains partially cited here.)

This stele inscription records the return journey of Master Qiu Chuji (known as the Eternal Spring Master, one of the patriarchs of Quanzhen Daoism) from his western expedition to meet Genghis Khan. The emperor had dispatched envoys bearing golden tiger tallies (imperial symbols of authority) to invite him from the distant Western Regions. Upon his return, Master Qiu was escorted by five hundred cavalrymen, with local officials offering grand receptions along the route.

When the procession paused at Dexing Prefecture (near present-day Zhuolu in Hebei), Master Qiu learned of the battlefield at Huailai where years of warfare had left bones scattered across the wilderness. Local Daoist priest Han Zhijiu had gathered these remains for proper burial and was preparing to conduct the Yellow Register Retreat (Huanglu Zhaijiao, a Daoist ritual for the salvation of lost souls), inviting Master Qiu to preside. During the ceremony, auspicious omens appeared, including sightings of the sacred azure luan bird.

Later, Master Qiu ascended Dahe Mountain, where the text poetically describes the majestic scenery: to the south, the fertile plains of Jin Mountain stretched endlessly; to the north, the peaks of Juyong Pass rose like banners among the clouds. Two emerald summits stood facing each other like jade ceremonial guards, while mountain springs meandered like dancing dragons halfway up the slopes. Confronted with such serene landscapes, Master Qiu sighed in contemplation: these secluded mountain forests and streams stood in stark contrast to the clamor of worldly affairs. The inscription concludes by mentioning how these words and poems were carved to serve as guidance for Daoist practitioners everywhere.

(Note: The "Yellow Register Retreat" refers to an important Keyi liturgy in Daoism for redeeming lost souls. The "azure luan" symbolizes auspiciousness in Daoist tradition, while "Ge Zhichuan" refers to the Eastern Jin dynasty Daoist master Ge Hong.)

The text describes the process and significance of a Daoist priest constructing a monastery on Qiuyang Mountain. It was late summer turning to autumn—the summer heat receding, morning dew beginning to form, plants bearing fruit, and leaves shimmering in sunlight. The priest resolved to establish his dwelling on this mountain, naming it "Qiuyang" (Autumn Sun) to signify that disciples should cultivate inner clarity and solemnity like autumn while maintaining outward warmth and approachability like sunlight. This integration of internal and external cultivation embodies the true essence of Daoist practice.

Upon receiving his master’s mandate, this priest (known as a yushi, or "feathered scholar") treated others with humility while holding himself to strict discipline. He personally participated in arduous tasks—clearing wilderness, felling timber, firing bricks and tiles, and recruiting craftsmen. After a decade of labor, the monastery gradually took shape: a main hall enshrining the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing), a Hall of the Seven Perfected, side chambers, eastern and western abbots’ quarters, and inner and outer mountain gates—all adorned with upturned eaves and resplendent golden hues. Supporting facilities like guest quarters, meditation huts (yun’an), kitchens, and vegetable gardens were also built. The layout was harmonious, with cranes often visiting amid curling clouds and lush flora, creating an otherworldly paradise.

At its peak, over seven hundred Daoists practiced here, and the monastery annually offered high-quality grain tributes to the imperial court. Later, the priest traveled to Yanjing (modern Beijing) to commission a stele inscription, expressing how he had trodden as if on thin ice for years, fearing to fail his master’s trust. Now, having fulfilled his mission, he hoped the stele would inspire future generations.

The text concludes by praising this priest—surnamed Han, from the distinguished Yanshan Han lineage—for relinquishing privilege to endure hardship in realizing his master’s vision, a rare and commendable feat. Through the monastery’s construction, the narrative reveals the Daoist practitioner’s pursuit of dual cultivation (xingming shuangxiu) and diligent self-refinement, blending spiritual depth with tangible dedication.

This "Record of Establishing the Zhenchang Abbey" documents the construction process of the Daoist temple Zhenchang Abbey. The story begins with Changchun Abbey, about a li west of which lay a desolate plot of land overgrown with brambles and littered with rubble after wartime chaos. Local residents avoided the area due to its bleakness.

One day, Master Li Zhenchang (a renowned Daoist patriarch) passed by leaning on his staff. Pushing through the thickets, he climbed the northern slope and surveyed the surroundings. Turning to his disciples, he remarked: "This place suits dwelling. After retiring from my duties, I shall spend my later years here." Gradually he cleared the land, discovering fertile soil and sweet well water. He cultivated vegetable gardens and planted trees. Though formal construction hadn't begun, one could already envision the serene future abbey.

After Master Li's passing, his successor Zhang the Great Perfected Being (Perfected Being Chengming) fulfilled his wish by building the Hall of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing, the highest Daoist deities), Jiuzhen Hall, a fasting kitchen, an altar for blessings, and the Lingguan Shrine. Over a dozen quiet chambers were added for elder Daoists' meditation.

Years later, abbey administrators Ran Zhicheng and Li Zhiheng sat in the hall admiring the spacious buildings and tranquil gardens (the original text breaks off here, possibly describing further improvements). The term "Peng Isle" refers to the Penglai immortal mountain, while "feathered robes" symbolizes Daoist priests. The phrase "autumn sun awaits eternal spring" metaphorically suggests waiting for the opportune moment, as spring naturally follows autumn. The text vividly illustrates Daoist wisdom in adapting to local conditions when creating cultivation sites.

This passage records the deeds of two eminent Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) Daoist masters in establishing monastic retreats. Li Zhenchang (the sixth patriarch of Quanzhen) demonstrated exceptional insight by choosing to establish his Daoist center amidst abandoned brambles and rubble that others had rejected. Zhang Chengming, another Quanzhen master, faithfully carried forward his teacher's vision by gathering craftsmen to construct temple halls. We later disciples who now benefit from their labors have a duty to engrave their virtuous achievements (De) in stone for posterity.

Building subsidiary Daoist temples was never about expanding architectural scale, pursuing ornate decorations, accumulating wealth, or creating leisure spaces. True cultivators maintain transcendent aspirations—their elevated virtue naturally attracts followers. Though they might prefer reclusion in deep mountains, they temporarily establish quiet retreats near cities to better teach sentient beings. As the Nanhua Jing (Zhuangzi) states: "The sage dwells like a quail at random and feeds like a fledgling without seeking." But contemporary Daoist administrators differ greatly from ancient practitioners—those overseeing capital temples now preside over imperial rituals with thousands of disciples, their towering walls and splendid halls lining entire streets.

Daily responsibilities include conducting rituals for hundreds of thousands of capital residents, exchanging formalities with nobility and wealthy patrons, while regional Daoists continuously stream in for audiences. The slightest breach of etiquette breeds resentment; unfulfilled expectations generate grievances. These supposedly tranquil Daoist palaces have effectively become as busy as government offices.

Thus when Changchun Zhenren (Qiu Chuji) established subsidiary retreats, his purpose was precisely to escape clamor and handle essential matters. Here one could cultivate in quietude, retreat temporarily, and ultimately attain lasting peace. This demonstrates the retreats' "precious, honorable, yet indispensable" value. As Laozi taught: "The noble person maintains throughout the day a heart never straying from its root" (remaining spiritually serene amid worldly bustle). By contrasting ancient and modern cultivation environments, this text reveals how establishing quiet retreats preserves the fundamental truth of Daoist practice.

This passage records the deeds of Jin Dynasty Daoist priest Xin Xisheng in establishing the Lingxu Temple. It begins by quoting Laozi's Daode Jing: "Though there may be splendid sights, the sage dwells in quiet transcendence," illustrating that cultivators should rise above material comforts. Xin Xisheng, a native of Pingyang in Shanxi, trained in his youth at Yunguang Cave on Mount Jiuding Tiecha under the Quanzhen master Jade Yang Perfected (Wang Chuyi), one of the seven major disciples of Chongyang Perfected. Honored by three generations of Jin emperors, Jade Yang Perfected passed into immortality at age seventy-six in Shandong. He left behind numerous cultivation poems, among which the Five-Character Rhymed Formula of the Golden Elixir was particularly treasured by Xin Xisheng.

In his later years, Xin settled in Shanzhou and co-founded Lingxu Temple with fellow Daoists as a lodging place for traveling Quanzhen practitioners. To transmit his master's teachings, he had the Golden Elixir Formula engraved on a stele for public dissemination. Concerned about the text's obscurity, he specifically invited Xin Yuan, a renowned classical scholar known as the "Wild Woman of Nüji," to compose a detailed stele inscription documenting the temple's founding. Dated April 1219 (3rd year of Jin Xingding), the inscription was later revised on July 15, 1275 (12th year of Yuan Zhiyuan). The text emphasizes that cultivation sites should prioritize serenity over opulence—counting properties like wealthy households would contradict the essence of Daoist practice.

The origins of Daoism trace back to the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) and Laozi (also known as Lao Dan). Later figures like Lie Yukou (Liezi) and Zhuang Zhou (Zhuangzi) further developed these teachings, establishing Daoist philosophy alongside Confucianism as one of China's two great systems of thought. The profundity of Daoist wisdom lies in its view of life and death as one, its understanding of all things returning to the void (xu), and its ability to distill the most profound truths from this perspective. Even the secondary principles derived from these core ideas suffice to explain the workings of heaven and earth, the ways of the divine, and the path to cultivating inner sagehood (neisheng) and outer kingly virtue (waiwang).

Eminent scholars like Sima Qian, Liu Xiang, and Ge Hong all wrote works praising Daoist philosophy. Yet ignorant people often cling to superficial interpretations, mistakenly believing Laozi's teachings reject benevolence, righteousness, ritual, and music, considering them unfit for moral instruction. By the Jin and Liang dynasties, some idle talkers even dismissed Daoism as heretical nonsense—a criticism that goes too far.

The newly emerged Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school, though appearing later in history, fully inherits the essence of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi's teachings. Their conduct is particularly commendable: their humility resembles Confucianism, their rigorous practice echoes Mohism, their compassion approaches Buddhism, while their return to simplicity and practice of Wuwei (non-action) evokes the primordial state of chaos. This stands in stark contrast to those who feign nobility, employ cunning, or use supernatural claims to chase fame and wealth without shame. Even if some individuals fall into corruption, this reflects personal failings rather than flaws in the Dao itself.

Establishing monasteries and creating religious institutions to guide spiritual seekers stems from this profound intention. My praise for these practices aims to encourage future generations to follow this path and fully comprehend the complete teachings of the Yellow Emperor and Laozi, avoiding partial or distorted understandings.

This monastery occupies five acres, with its main hall, kitchen, and monastic quarters completed in the Renxian year of Cheng'an era. The three principal buildings maintain moderate scale—neither extravagant nor crude. Considering the wartime famine during construction, this achievement was remarkable. The primary contributors were Daoist priests Wu and Jian Xisheng, both local residents. The elder among them has now passed away many years.

Li Zheng was a native of Xianping, born into an official family yet maintaining a life of quiet simplicity. He particularly revered Daoist cultivation and was now appointed as magistrate of Qi County due to his talents. Known by his religious name Daoxian, his character was tranquil and detached, sharing the same master with Xisheng as fellow disciples. This account comes from the ninth volume of Ganshui Xianyuan Lu (Immortal Sources of Sweet Waters).

The term "shouzhong" (guarding the center) mentioned here represents a crucial Daoist cultivation concept, referring to maintaining a state of mental emptiness and perfect equilibrium. "Disciples of the same master" indicates students taught under one spiritual teacher. Through Li Zheng's example, the text illustrates the phenomenon among scholar-officials of that era who simultaneously pursued government service while dedicating themselves to Daoist practice.