《雲笈七籤》Vol. 114

From ancient times to the present, everyone in the world has heard of the deeds of immortals, but their ascension, invisibility, and transformations are difficult for ordinary people to witness with their own eyes. The former worthies said that among those in the world who attained the Dao (the Way) and became immortals, one could scarcely hear of even one in a thousand. Moreover, historical records generally do not record the affairs of immortals, and so many traditions have not been handed down.

If one examines closely the purpose of historical writing, it is to use the principles of ruler and minister, father and son, order and disorder, loyalty and filial piety to encourage later generations. If one exalts the Dao of emptiness and spontaneity and lets people be without restraint, worldly order would be difficult to maintain. The Records of the Grand Historian records that in the sea there were three divine mountains, where immortals lived in palaces of gold and silver and the elixir of deathlessness grew upon the mountains. Some wished to go there, but the wind blew their boats away, and they could never reach them. This account also contains the intent of upholding worldly constraints.

The affairs of immortals are truly grand, and their numinous transformations are hard to fathom. It is said that at the beginning of cultivating the Dao, one must guard the One (shouyi), single-mindedly preserving the spirit, refine Qi (vital energy), and carefully observe rules and regulations, practicing diligently and fearing the slightest fault in minute details. When cultivation is accomplished, one can undergo a thousand transformations and ten thousand changes, mingling in the human world; some hide in mountains and forests, while others move among towns and cities. Ascended immortals mostly go to the mountains in the sea. Those with deeply accumulated merit become immortal officials; those of lower rank remain immortal commoners. For among the Ten Continents, immortal households often number hundreds of thousands; they cultivate lingzhi fields and reckon their harvest by mu, just as mortals grow rice. Therefore the immortal realm also has immortal officials governing immortal commoners separately, and is distinguished from the immortals and mortals of the human world.

Those immortals who conceal their traces and transform their bodies are said to shed their old bodies like cicada shells, leaving behind their husks, then exchange bones and refine Qi, nurturing and refining their forms in caves, and afterward ascend to become true immortals. These matters are indeed not false.

I, the author Zhang Junfang, admired Daoist arts from my youth and often felt ashamed that my ingrained habits were already deep. After growing up, I traveled through official life and went everywhere. Whatever I encountered of matters told by eminent recluses, or read in biographies and records, as well as what I heard with my own ears and saw with my own eyes, I kept in mind and recorded. Moreover, because the official dynastic histories do not record such matters, folk traditions have also been scattered and lost; and after the wars of the Zhonghe era, texts still have gaps. How could there still be people to take up the brush and specially write of these matters? As time passes in the world, those who understand such things gradually become few, and the loss to transmission is truly regrettable. I fear that hereafter these deeds will leave no lingering echo, so I now compile and record them, dividing them into three volumes, hoping to provide gentlemen fond of this path and cultivators with material for discussion and reference, and to make the true immortal Dao manifest.

Xuanzhenzi (an immortal in Daoist legend)

Xuanzhenzi’s surname was Zhang and his given name was Zhihe; he was from Shanyin in Kuaiji. He was broadly learned, skilled at writing, passed the jinshi examination, and was also a good painter. He could drink three dou of wine without becoming drunk, and he cultivated his mind and spirit and regulated his vital Qi (vital energy). It was said that when he lay in the snow he did not feel cold, and when he entered water his clothes did not get wet. He traveled through many mountains and rivers throughout the world.

Yan Zhenqing, Duke of Lu, was on very good terms with him. When Yan Zhenqing served as governor of Huzhou, he once gathered with his retainers to drink and compose matching verses, creating “Fisherman’s Song.” Zhang Zhihe was the first to match it, writing: “Beside Xisai Mountain white birds fly; peach blossoms on flowing water, and mandarin fish are fat. A blue bamboo hat, a green straw rain cape—in slanting wind and fine rain, there is no need to return.” The meaning is: beside Xisai Mountain white birds fly; peach blossoms are in bloom, and mandarin fish in the flowing water are fat; wearing a blue bamboo hat and a green straw rain cape, one need not return even in slanting wind and fine rain.

Yan Zhenqing, Lu Hongjian, Xu Shiheng, Li Chengju, and others also joined in matching verses; together they wrote twenty-five poems and praised one another’s work. Zhang Zhihe then ordered people to paint with pigments on white silk, pairing the scenes with the words. In a short while five paintings were completed; the flowers and trees, birds and beasts, fish, and landscapes in the paintings were marvelously incomparable, rarely equaled in ancient or modern times. Yan Zhenqing and the other guests passed the paintings around and viewed them, praising them without end.

Later, Yan Zhenqing traveled east to Pingwang Post Station. Zhang Zhihe, still flushed with wine, gave a performance on the water: he spread a mat on the surface and sat alone, drinking and chanting. The mat moved back and forth on the water, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, as if someone were rowing; clouds and cranes also followed above the mat. Yan Zhenqing, along with the guests and subordinate officials accompanying him, watched in unending astonishment. Afterward, Zhang Zhihe waved farewell to Yan Zhenqing from the water and rose into the sky. It is said that his paintings still circulate in the human world to this day.

Lan Caihe

It is not known where Lan Caihe was from. He often wore a worn blue shirt and a belt made of six black wooden tablets, the belt more than three cun wide; on one foot he wore a boot, and the other foot was bare. In summer he added cotton wadding inside his shirt; in winter he lay in the snow, his breath rising like steam.

He often walked through towns and cities singing, holding a large clapper more than three chi long and begging for money and goods; when drunk, he would sing while stepping to the rhythm. Old and young alike followed him to watch. He was quick-witted and humorous in speech; whatever people asked him, he would often answer offhand, making everyone double over with laughter. He looked as if he were mad, yet did not seem truly mad. As he walked, he shook his shoes and sang to the rhythm:

“Tata Song, Lan Caihe,

how much time is there in this world?

Fair faces are like spring trees;

the years fly past like a thrown shuttle.

The ancients departed one after another, never to return;

people today come in succession, and more will come after.”

The luan-bird and phoenix came to Biluo (the blue sky). In the evening he saw white waves rising among the mulberry fields; bright radiance shone across the sky, and gold and silver palaces rose high and steep. The song verses he composed were mostly made impromptu and all had the flavor of immortals, which others could not fathom. He threaded his song verses onto strings of coins and dragged them along; sometimes when they scattered, he did not look back; sometimes when he saw poor people, he gave the verses to them; sometimes he gave them to wine shops.

He traveled throughout the world. Some people had seen him as children and saw him again when their hair was white, yet his appearance was just as before. Later he sang stamping songs in the region of Hao and Liang, and once, drunk in a wine tower, he rose and danced. Suddenly the sounds of cloud cranes and sheng and xiao pipes came; he then lightly ascended into the clouds, casting down his boots, clothes, belt, and clappers, and slowly departed. Those boots, clothes, and other items soon vanished as well.

Zhu Ruzi

Zhu Ruzi was a native of An'gu County in Yongjia Commandery. In his youth he took the Daoist priest Wang Xuanzhen as his master and lived at Daruo Rock (the name of a mountain crag). Tao the Recluse once compiled the Zhengao (Declarations of the Perfected) here, so the rock was also called Zhengao Rock; to its west was Tao Mountain.

Zhu Ruzi diligently served Wang Xuanzhen and deeply admired the Way of Immortality. He often climbed the ridges to gather Huangjing (Polygonatum, a medicinal herb commonly used by Daoists), which he ate while practicing cultivation; in this way more than ten years passed. One day, while washing vegetables by a stream, he saw two small spotted dogs on the bank. Puzzled, Zhu Ruzi followed them into a goji thicket, then went back and told Wang Xuanzhen. Wang Xuanzhen was also astonished, so he went with Zhu Ruzi to investigate.

They saw the two dogs again, playing and leaping about; just as they approached, the dogs slipped under the goji thicket. Wang Xuanzhen and Zhu Ruzi searched and dug together and found two goji roots shaped like small spotted dogs, hard as stone. They washed the roots, carried them back, and boiled them. Zhu Ruzi added firewood and tended the fire, staying by the stove for three days and nights; he also tasted the broth from time to time and kept eating without stopping. When the goji roots had boiled soft, he told Wang Xuanzhen, and the two ate them together.

Before long, Zhu Ruzi suddenly ascended to the mountain peak ahead. Wang Xuanzhen was astonished for a long time. Zhu Ruzi took leave of Wang Xuanzhen and rose into the clouds, departing. From then on, the local people called that peak Tongzi Peak (Youth Peak). Later, Wang Xuanzhen also finished the remaining goji roots, and after that no one knew his age or lifespan; it was said that he too lived in seclusion at Tao Mountain west of the rock, and herb gatherers and hunters occasionally saw him.

Wang Lao

Wang Lao was a native of Yijun County in Fangzhou and lived in the countryside. He was very fond of Daoist arts, delighted in receiving guests, and made secret good deeds his heartfelt wish. His wife shared his resolve and delighted in this without tiring.

One day a Daoist priest in ragged clothes came to their door. Wang Lao and his wife welcomed him together, treated him with courtesy, and invited him to stay. A month passed...

I once often discussed profound principles and drank wine with Elder Wang, and we got along very harmoniously. Before long, I contracted malignant sores that spread over my whole body. Elder Wang sought doctors and medicines everywhere and cared for me meticulously, yet the illness grew worse day by day, and soon it was nearly a full year.

A Daoist priest said, “This illness need not be treated with ordinary medicine; it only needs to be soaked in several hu of wine, and it will naturally heal.” So Elder Wang carefully brewed wine. When the wine was ready, the Daoist priest had people fill a large vat with it, saying that he would put medicine into the wine. Then he took off his clothes and entered the vat. Only after three days did he come out; his hair and temples were completely black, his face had regained its youth, and his skin was as delicate as congealed fat. Elder Wang’s whole family was astonished to see it.

The Daoist priest said to Elder Wang, “This wine can be drunk; it can make a person ascend to Heaven.” Elder Wang believed him. Originally there had been more than five hu of wine in the vat, but when they looked again, only two or three dou remained. The wine was clear and crisp, fragrant and mellow, with a taste unlike ordinary wine. At that time Elder Wang was working alongside two laborers hired to move wheat, so they drank together and all became drunk. The Daoist priest also drank the wine and asked Elder Wang, “Are you willing to go up to Heaven?” Elder Wang replied, “I am willing to follow you, Master.”

Suddenly auspicious winds arose and colored clouds billowed. The house, the plants and trees, the entire family, and the chickens and dogs all flew up into the sky at once; faint sounds of wheat threshing came from the air. People from several villages came out to watch, marveling endlessly; only the cats and rats were left where they were. After the wind stopped, the two laborers hired to move wheat were left under a tree in another village. They later stopped eating and both attained long life. Today, thirty li west of Yijun County, the place name “Shengxian Township” still remains.

Hou Daohua

Hou Daohua claimed to come from Mount Emei and lodged at Yongle Abbey in Hezhong Prefecture. He looked like a madman, and the Daoist priests in the abbey all looked down on him. When something in the abbey was damaged, he would take up an axe and repair it; he could climb high and brave danger, reaching places others found hard to reach.

His work was miscellaneous and arduous. When guests came, whether Daoist priests, laypeople, or commoners, he fetched water, heated water, washed their feet, washed their clothes, cleaned the latrines, and watered the vegetable garden, enduring every hardship simply to help everyone. Because of this, people looked down on him even more, shouting at him and ordering him about, treating him even more harshly than a servant; yet Hou Daohua grew all the more joyful.

He also often read the works of the various philosophers and the histories, never putting the book down; after one reading he could recite it. Someone asked him what use there was in reading such books. He replied, “There are no foolish or muddled immortals in Heaven.” Everyone laughed at him.

More than ten years passed, and sometimes divine light appeared on the beams of the hall, which people often saw. Tradition says that during the Kaiyuan era, a Celestial Master Liu (Liu Tianshi) once...

When refining the elixir, they tested it on a dog; after the dog took it, it died. The people therefore did not dare take it and hid the elixir in the beam of the hall. Everyone said this was a trick. Later a sudden storm arose and slightly damaged the hall. Daohua climbed up onto the beam, saw light coming from a groove in the wood, chiseled the wood open, and took out a three-tiered nested box. Inside was a small gold box containing the elixir. Daohua swallowed the elixir and threw the box down. After taking it, he showed no change for a time, so everyone concluded that it was merely empty deception.

One day, Daohua went into town for the market and returned to the Daoist temple drunk. In front of the temple there had originally been a pine tree with low-hanging branches, a beautiful sight. Wearing wooden clogs, he climbed the tree and cut off all the pine branches. The Daoist priests repeatedly tried to stop him, but he would not listen, only saying, “In the future these branches will get in the way of my ascension.” People often took him for a madman and were angry with him.

It happened that the magistrate of Yongle County came to the temple, and his attendants were astonished to see that the pine tree had been cut. The priests reported the matter to the magistrate, who then scolded and humiliated Daohua. Daohua, however, accepted it cheerfully.

Seven days later, Daohua rose early, bathed, changed his clothes, and put himself in order. He then burned incense and said, “The immortal envoy should be coming to receive me now.” Having said this, he kept bowing toward the air. The others still did not believe. After a while, someone said they saw clouds and cranes circling above the pine tree in front of the temple, and the music of reed pipes and flutes rang out loudly. Daohua suddenly flew to the top of the pine tree and sat cross-legged there for a long while. Everyone was greatly astonished, and the officials, Daoist priests, and common people of Yongle County all hurried over to gaze up and bow. The magistrate who had previously scolded and humiliated Daohua kowtowed in admission of fault until he bled. Daohua waved his hand in acknowledgment and thanks, and said to the crowd, “I have received the decree of the Jade Emperor and been appointed Immortal Terrace Gentleman, to oversee the Shanxin Court of the Shangqing Palace. Now I must depart.” Before long, immortal hosts in the clouds played music; banners and ceremonial guards could be faintly seen, and he soared into the clouds and departed.

Ma Ziran

Ma Xiang, courtesy name Ziran, was a native of Yanguan in Hangzhou. His family for generations had served as petty clerks in the county; only Ma Xiang loved the classics and histories and devoted himself to literary composition. Later he followed Daoist priests in wandering throughout the world, and afterward returned to Jiangnan.

He often drank himself drunk in Huzhou. Once he fell into Zha Creek and did not come out until a whole day had passed. His clothes were not wet. He came back sitting on the surface of the water, saying that he had just been summoned by King Xiang to drink and had returned to the creek bank only when he was nearly drunk. The onlookers were as thick as clouds, and the smell of wine on him still struck the nose. He looked like a madman, and passersby often followed him to watch the spectacle.

Sometimes he would put his fist into his nostrils and pull it out again with his nose as intact as before; he also once pointed at the creek and made the water flow backward. After the time it took to eat a meal, he pointed at a willow tree and made it move back and forth with the creek water; he also pointed at a bridge and made it break apart and then join together again. Later he traveled to Changzhou and met...

Ma Zhi later served as Prefect of Changzhou. He had long heard of Xiang’s reputation, so he invited him to meet. Ma Zhi received him with very special etiquette and showed him great respect. Ma Zhi asked, “Daoist brother, it is fortunate that we share the same surname. I would like to become sworn brothers with you, hoping to learn your Daoist arts. Would that be possible?”

Xiang asked, “What does Your Excellency hope for?” Ma Zhi replied, “Fufeng.” Xiang joked, “Your Excellency is the Ma of Fufeng, while I am Ma Fengniu—but it is enough that we know each other; a connection of surname means little.” This plays on the saying “wind, horse, and ox have nothing to do with one another,” indicating that although the two shared a surname, no blood relationship could be claimed.

Ma Zhi nonetheless kept Xiang at the prefectural office and respected him even more. Once, at a banquet, Ma Zhi asked Xiang to demonstrate a small feat of magic. Xiang immediately filled a porcelain vessel with earth and planted melon seeds in it. Before long, melon vines grew, flowered, and bore fruit. The guests tasted the melon and all praised it as sweet and delicious, unlike ordinary melons.

Xiang also produced many coins from his body and socks; no one knew where the money came from. He threw them out, and they were all bronze coins. Then he grabbed another handful and threw them into a well, called them back, and the coins flew out of the well mouth one by one. Someone tried to carry the coins away, but after a short while they disappeared again.

Ma Zhi also said that there were an unusual number of rats in the city. Xiang wrote a talisman and had someone paste it beneath the south wall. He also tapped a plate with chopsticks and gave a long whistle. Rats came running in droves, gathered beneath the talisman, and lay prone and motionless. Xiang summoned the largest rat and said, “You little hairy creature, Heaven and Earth already give you grain to eat. Why must you still bore through walls and dig holes, harassing Your Excellency day and night? I am mindful of compassion and will not kill you, but you should take your companions and leave this place.”

The big rat turned around, and the swarm of rats before it all kowtowed together in apology; then they formed ranks and left. There were too many to count, and in the end they went out through the city gate. From then on, there were no more rats in the city.

Later, Xiang traveled south to Yuezhou and passed by Dongyan Chan Monastery. In the monastery were three or four hundred monks, gathered together eating a vegetarian meal. Xiang was traveling with Wang Zhiwei, a Daoist of Muma Yan in Yongkang County, Wuzhou, and Wang Zhiwei’s disciple Wang Yansou. When the monks saw Xiang and Wang Zhiwei come, they just sat eating, neither saluting nor welcoming them, and merely let them eat. Xiang did not eat; he urged Wang Zhiwei and Wang Yansou to finish quickly and leave.

When they walked out of the monastery, the monks had not yet finished their meal. Xiang again urged them to hurry. They reached an inn south of Zhuji County, about seventy li from the monastery. Late at night, they heard someone looking for Daoists. The innkeeper quickly answered that there were three Daoists here. The visitor was very pleased and asked the innkeeper to let him see the Daoists. Two monks came in. When they saw Xiang, they bowed and pleaded: “The monks of the monastery did not recognize a man of the Dao. Yesterday we failed to welcome and serve you properly, and so brought punishment upon ourselves. Three or four hundred monks, even now…” The text breaks off here; what follows is not recorded.

That monk could not get out of bed. The original text says that two of the monks were in charge, and that “they did not sit, and therefore came”; the meaning of this sentence is unclear. The monk repeatedly begged forgiveness, but Xiang merely went on sleeping and did not reply; Zhiwei and Yansou only watched with smiles. Later Xiang rose and said, “From now on, do not harbor thoughts of treating others with contempt.” He turned and left, and the monk who had entered the door was indeed able to get out of bed.

The next day Xiang traveled south again. It was spring, and he saw a household growing tender cabbages—a kind of Chinese cabbage—so he asked the owner for some, but was refused and heard harsh words as well. Xiang told Yansou to fetch paper and brush. Zhiwei said, “Being refused when asking for vegetables is truly nothing worth arguing about; besides, how could a person cultivating the Dao do such a thing?” Xiang laughed and said, “I am not going to argue; I am just going to perform a little trick.”

Thereupon Yansou brought paper and brush. Xiang drew a white egret; after he sprayed it with water, it flew into the vegetable plot and pecked at the vegetables. The owner drove it off; it flew away and came down again, back and forth several times. Xiang then drew a “juanzi”—the word used in the original, though it is unclear exactly what animal this refers to—and made it run after the egret; together they trampled the vegetable plot as if they meant to destroy all the vegetables. Seeing that the Daoist was only making sport of him, and worried that they might work other magic, the owner hurried over to beg.

Xiang said, “I did not come to ask for vegetables; I was only deliberately playing a joke on you.” Then he called the egret and the juanzi, and both flew back into Xiang’s bosom. When they looked again at the vegetable plot, the vegetables were just as before, without the least damage.

Xiang and his party continued south and entered Huotong Mountain in Changxi County. At night they went to an inn to lodge. The inn was cramped and already had many guests, so the innkeeper jokingly said there was no room; he would take them in only if the Daoist could sleep on the wall. It was getting late, and Zhiwei and Yansou said, “We only want a place to spend the night; how could we sleep on the wall?” Xiang said, “You just sleep like ordinary travelers; I will sit until dawn.”

After everyone had gone to sleep, Xiang leaped up onto the roof beam and slept upside down with one foot hooked over the beam. The innkeeper rose in the night and lit a lamp; when he saw this, he was greatly astonished. Xiang said, “If sleeping on the beam is possible, what is so difficult about sleeping inside the wall?” With that he entered the wall and for a long time did not come out. The innkeeper apologized again and again and pleaded for quite a while; only then did Xiang let Zhiwei and Yansou go into the cleaner part of the room to rest, and afterward he himself reappeared.

At dawn the innkeeper warmly pressed them to stay, but Xiang suddenly vanished. Zhiwei and Yansou walked several li out to search for him, and only then found that Xiang was already by the roadside.

They returned from Huotong Mountain to Tianbao Abbey east of Yongkang County and stayed there. In front of the abbey was a large withered pine. Xiang pointed to it and said, “This pine tree is already more than three thousand years old; before long it will transform into stone.” Later the pine indeed turned into stone. Suddenly there came a great wind and peals of thunder; the stone fell at the mountainside and broke into several pieces. The original text breaks off at the character “Yang.”

Setting out from Guangzhou, he was punished by the military commissioner (jiedushi) and demoted to prefect of Wuzhou. When this became known, someone moved two pieces of extraordinary stone into the prefectural residence and placed them in the Jiusong Courtyard of Longxing Temple. Each stone was six or seven chi high and more than three chi wide; their surfaces were like pine bark, covered with scale-like patterns. These stones are still there today.

When sick people came seeking treatment, Xiang had no medicine. He only tapped the diseased area with a bamboo staff, or pointed with the staff at the abdomen and other affected parts, then blew toward the tip of the staff. The tip would give forth a sound like thunder, and the patient would recover at once. When people with hunched backs and crooked legs came leaning on staffs to seek treatment, he also struck the affected areas with his staff and had them put down their crutches; as soon as the bamboo staff fell, their bodies could straighten. People offered him goods and money; when he could not refuse, he accepted them and then distributed them to the poor.

Wherever he traveled, whether to Daoist temples or mountain caves, he often inscribed verses. When he climbed Qinwang Mountain in Hangzhou, he wrote:

Where can one seek the moment when Taiyi first divided?
In vain, calendrical cycles remain to alter the human heart.
In the nine heavens, sun and moon shift morning and evening;
Across ten thousand li, mountains and rivers change past and present.
Wind stirs the water’s light, swallowing distant peaks;
Rain adds mountain mist, submerging tall forests.
The First Emperor of Qin vainly devised plans to drive the mountains;
The vast blue sea only grows deeper.

The general meaning of the poem is: the beginning point when heaven and earth first divided can no longer be found; all that remains is the passage of years and the changes in human hearts. Sun and moon alternate day and night, and mountains and rivers change with past and present. Wind moves over the water, and distant mountains seem swallowed by its light; rain and mist rise, and deep forests vanish into cloud and vapor. The First Emperor of Qin vainly tried to drive the mountains, but the vast sea remains broad and deep.

Later, he returned to his hometown to visit his elder brother, but his brother happened to be away. His sister-in-law and nephew were glad to see him return, but he said, “My elder brother and I share this house. Now that I have returned, I intend to divide the family property. I want only the East Garden.” His sister-in-law and nephew found this strange: the uncle had been away from home for many years, and before he had even met his brother, how could he speak of dividing the family? They thought that between close kin he surely could not bear to do such a thing. Xiang stayed for three days; his sister-in-law and nephew saw that he did not eat, only drank wine while waiting for his brother to return. His brother was long in coming, and that night Xiang suddenly passed away.

The next day his brother returned, and his wife and son told him what had happened. In grief he said, “My younger brother studied the Dao for many years. His return this time was not to divide the family property; it was a pretext for transformation (tuohua), whereby a Daoist cultivator manifests death and leaves the world, so that I might cut off my attachment to him and my expectations.” So the family encoffined Xiang. That night the coffin suddenly made a sound; the whole family was astonished, and they buried him in the East Garden. This happened in the tenth year of the Dazhong era, the reign title of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang.

The following year, Dongchuan reported to the throne that the Daoist priest Ma Ziran of Zitong County in Jianzhou had ascended to heaven in broad daylight. Xiang had once told the people of Dongchuan, “I am from Yanguan. I had just undergone feathered transformation (yuhua) in Zhexi; now I have again received a decree from the Jade Emperor to ascend here.” After the authorities concerned reported the matter, the emperor ordered Hangzhou in Zhexi Circuit to investigate. The officials opened the grave and examined the coffin, and found only a bamboo staff inside.

Wu Tongwei

Wu Tongwei, no one knew where he was from, was a Daoist priest. His spirit and expression were clear and bright, his nature quiet and detached; sometimes he chanted poetry, sometimes he was drunk, and he often wandered among the famous mountains of Hongzhou. People might go years, even more than a decade, without seeing him; when they saw him again, his appearance was younger than before. Even widely knowledgeable people could not guess whether he had consumed refined elixirs. His whereabouts were unpredictable; later, after becoming drunk in a tavern, he ascended to heaven.

Xu Que claimed to be from Gaoyang. In his youth his hopes of passing the jinshi examination were repeatedly disappointed, and in old age he went to Wangwu Mountain to study the Dao. He traveled to the Five Peaks, famous mountains, and cave mansions—dwelling places of immortals in Daoist legend—and later set out from Emei Mountain, passed through the two capitals, and went from Jingxiang and Bian-Song to Jianghuai; he also visited Maoshan, Tiantai, Siming, Xiandu, Weiyu, Wuyi, Huotong, Luofu, and other places.

Everywhere he went, he would write in places ordinary people found hard to reach, such as cliffs and precipices: “Xu Que came from Emei, seeking Yan Yuezi; I arrived here to take a look.” Who Yan Yuezi was, no one later could explain clearly. All who saw these inscriptions marveled at his extraordinary ability.

Later Xu Que often traveled in Lushan. Once, drunk, he sang: “Before the flowers of the immortal realm lies the land of drunkenness; raising my cup, I drink freely of the Queen Mother’s Nine-Cloud Wine. The assembled immortals clap their hands, disliking my frivolity; I was banished to the human world to be a wine-loving madman.” Someone asked what he meant, and he said, “I am a heavenly immortal. I was at a banquet at Kunlun, and because my conduct was improper, I was banished to the human world.” Those who heard him laughed at him as mad.

Later, when the spring scenery was at its best, he stuck fresh flowers all over his head, danced with flowers in hand, and then climbed up to a tavern; after singing drunkenly, he rode the clouds and ascended to heaven.

Jin Keji was a man of Silla (an ancient kingdom on the Korean peninsula) and had entered official service as a bin’gong jinshi (a jinshi degree granted to foreign tribute students). He was quiet by nature and fond of Daoist arts; he did not seek splendor or luxury, and sometimes practiced the arts of ingesting Qi (vital energy) and refining the body, taking delight in them. He was broadly learned and retentive, his prose clear and elegant, his appearance handsome, and in bearing and conversation he had much of the manner of the Central Plains.

He soon passed the jinshi examination, but did not take office; instead he lived in seclusion in Ziwu Valley in the Zhongnan Mountains, built a dwelling, and lived a retired, quiet life. With his own hands he planted many rare flowers and unusual fruits; he often burned incense and sat quietly as if in thought, and he continually recited the Daode Jing and various immortal scriptures.

Three years later, he wished to return to his homeland, so he took a boat across the sea and left. Later he returned to the Central Plains, put on Daoist robes, and again entered the Zhongnan Mountains, devoting himself to accumulating virtue and doing good; whenever others made requests, he did his utmost to satisfy them. He was diligent and single-minded in his work, and others could hardly compare with him. In the twelfth month of the eleventh year of the Dazhong era (a reign title of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang, 857 CE), he submitted a memorial saying: “Your servant has received an edict from the Jade Emperor…” The original text ends here.

The man who held the post of Vice Minister of the Yingwen Terrace, by the fifteenth day of the second month of the following year, was just about to ascend. Emperor Xuanzong found the matter extraordinary and sent palace envoys to summon him into the palace. He firmly declined and would not go. The emperor also wished to see the Jade Emperor, and he declined, saying, “The Jade Emperor is in the charge of other immortal officials and does not remain in the human realm.” Thereupon Emperor Xuanzong bestowed on him four palace women, incense and medicines, and gold and silk, and dispatched two palace envoys to attend him exclusively.

According to records, he lived alone in a quiet chamber and seldom approached the palace women or envoys. Every night, sounds of conversation and laughter often came from within the room. The envoys secretly peered in and saw immortal officials and immortal maidens, each seated on dragons and phoenixes, solemnly facing one another, with many attendants around them. The palace women and envoys did not dare disturb them rashly.

On the fifteenth day of the second month, spring light was radiant and all flowers were in bloom. As expected, five-colored auspicious clouds, calling immortal cranes, flying luan birds and white swans, and the music of sheng and xiao flutes, bells, and chimes appeared; feathered canopies, jade wheels, and banners, flags, streamers, and pennants filled the sky as they came to welcome him in his ascent. Officials of the court and common people crowded the valleys to watch; all looked up, bowed, and marveled without end.

Song Xuanbai

Song Xuanbai was a Daoist priest whose native place was unknown. He was over seven chi tall, with brows and eyes as if painted, regular and handsome features, a full figure and fair complexion, and elegant, refined speech. All who saw him were fond of him.

He possessed considerable Daoist arts. In summer he wore padded clothes, while in winter he wore only single garments and lay in the snow; for more than a zhang around his body, warm vapor rose, and the snow did not congeal. When he pointed with his finger, a lamp would go out; when he pointed at a person, that person felt as if wind were blowing through a crack, with a whistling sound; when he pointed at flowers and plants in the courtyard, they too would rustle and sway.

He often traveled among famous mountains. After leaving Mount Mao, he stayed at the Xixuan Abbey in Runzhou and later entered the Kuocang Cave. At times he practiced bigu (grain avoidance) and Qi ingestion—regulating the breath to nourish Qi as a cultivation method; at other times he could eat five jin of pork and a basin of garlic paste, then immediately drink two dou of wine, and needed only a single white plum to remove the taste. Someone obtained a piece of garlic left over from his meal; after eating it, he said it had no garlic flavor but rather resembled a wondrous fragrance that lingered between the teeth and tongue all day and did not disperse for a long time. Quite a few people ate it; throughout their lives they suffered no illness and all lived to eighty or ninety.

Wherever Song Xuanbai stayed, he would use gold and silk to seek and marry two or three beautiful concubines; when he left, he would leave them behind. People therefore believed he had mastered the art of replenishing the brain and restoring the primal (bunao huanyuan).

Later he traveled to Yuezhou, where he encountered a severe drought. At that time people were performing baowang—a rain-petition ritual of exposing a drought effigy to the sun—and yuelong—a ritual of using music to petition the dragon deity for rain—hoping to obtain rain; after more than ten days, the drought had instead grown worse. Seeing this, Song Xuanbai held that all rain-petitioning must accord with the mandate of Heaven; unless a memorial was submitted to Heaven, rain could not be brought down. Thereupon, at the place where he was temporarily staying…

He burned incense and prayed to Heaven, and that night heavy rain fell. The rain was sufficient, and the people of Yue all regarded him as deeply wondrous. Later he arrived in Xinzhou just when there was a drought, and he prayed for rain. There was a local Daoist named Zhi Xuanbai who claimed he could summon rain. The people of the prefecture therefore asked him to perform the ritual. He immediately worked his arts, and flying nails pierced the eyes of the City God, the local guardian deity.

The prefect Wei Delin found this strange, and when he further saw him gathering women, he took him for a demon and planned to punish and humiliate him. He sent sturdy runners to seize him, but their hands and feet could not move; they all fell to the ground on their own, and even their cangues and punishment rods broke by themselves. Zhi Xuanbai laughed and said to Wei Delin: “The Governor has offended Liu Gen; he will punish your ancestors.” Only then did Wei Delin become afraid and pray to apologize. Soon afterward he respectfully escorted Zhi Xuanbai away. There were many accounts of Zhi Xuanbai’s numinous manifestations, too many to record one by one. Later, he ascended to Heaven in broad daylight at Nancheng County in Fuzhou.

He Zizhen

No one knew where He Zizhen came from. He was a Daoist who lived on Mount Song; he was well learned and conducted himself with elegance and simplicity. All year round he burned incense and cultivated the Dao (the Way), extremely diligently. Even young people did not know his age; yet monks and laypeople alike said they had seen him for many years, and at first no one found anything extraordinary about him.

One day, clouds and immortal cranes filled the sky, and the sound of music was clear and bright. He Zizhen suddenly flew up and departed. At that time a recluse, Chen Tao, was in the Eastern Capital. Seeing the people of Luoyang all raise their heads to watch, bow, and marvel, he wrote a poem:

“Wang Ziqiao of Jin rode a luan-bird past the ancient Luo River;

When the golden peaches ripened again, Master He too became an immortal.

Beneath Mount Song sounded the celestial music of the Three Pure Ones (Sanqing);

Before the imperial gardens gathered five-colored clouds.

Red-crowned cranes wheeled and danced, welcoming the scarlet tally;

Dark-haired immortal maidens sang and halted by the fragrant carriage.

Who would grieve and weep over this in broad daylight?

In the Taiji Heaven (Taiji), the years already number tens of thousands.”

Feng Qushe

Feng Qushe was a native of Longqiu in Quzhou and lived at the foot of Mount Jiufeng. In his youth he entered the Dao, traveled to seek learning, and single-mindedly studied Daoist arts, diligent and tireless. In his thirties he took up residence at Anhe Abbey in Songyang County of the prefecture. Anhe Abbey was Ye Jingneng’s old home and the place where he studied the Dao.

Five li north of the abbey was Mount Mao, more than fifty zhang high. Tradition says that in the Han dynasty the Celestial Master Zhang (Tianshi Zhang) and Ye Jingneng both lived on this mountain cultivating the Dao. Admiring their deeds, Feng Qushe climbed Mount Mao and built a thatched hut to dwell there. Later, the Daoists of the abbey and the residents below the mountain together built him rooms and a hall, enshrining statues of Lord Lao and Celestial Master Zhang, as well as a portrait of Ye Jingneng; morning and evening he burned incense, cultivated, and worshipped. On the southeast side of the mountain there was a...

There was a large square rock, more than two zhang across, its surface as flat as a whetstone; it was clearly natural in formation. Qushe often sat on the rock, quietly sitting with his hands clasped and silently concentrating his spirit. One day he sensed a divine being appear. The divine being said to him, “The Celestial Master (Tianshi) Zhang Daoling, whom Daoism reveres, has two swords for cutting down evil and a bottle of elixir pills; both are hidden beneath this rock. You may take them out.”

Qushe thanked the divine being and said, “This rock was made by Heaven; no human effort could add anything to it. I know myself to be shallow, and I only wish to preserve the truth and cultivate, entrusting myself to the mountains so that I may dwell securely for long. I have already received the protection of the spirits. How could I casually take away elixir pills and precious swords?” The divine being said, “So long as you cultivate diligently and without slackening, the sword and the elixir will naturally be delivered into your hands.”

Three years later, the divine being indeed gave the precious sword and elixir pills to Qushe. The sword was Celestial Master Zhang’s Seven-Star Sword. The elixir pills were stored in a stone casket and kept in a bottle; when poured out, there was more than a dou of them, each about the size of a hemp seed, red in color and gleaming brightly. Qushe took them himself and also gave them to others; all who were ill recovered after taking them.

At that time, Hua Zao, a man of Lishui County, after the famine and war during the Zhonghe era—the reign title of Emperor Xizong of Tang—gathered local people and occupied rugged, strategic mountain terrain. The military commander of eastern Zhejiang reported the matter to the court. After deliberation, the court wished to quell the conflict and granted Hua Zao the office of prefect. Hua Zao was fierce and cruel. When he heard that Qushe had the aid of divine beings and also possessed a precious sword and elixir pills, he sent troops to surround the mountain forest, seize Qushe, and bring him, together with the sword and elixir, to the prefectural office. He took away the sword and elixir and locked Qushe in an empty room. The weather was hot at the time, and for a whole month he gave him no water. Hua Zao thought Qushe was already dead, but when he opened the door, he saw that Qushe’s expression was dignified and his face ruddy, even better than when he had been captured. Hua Zao was greatly astonished and had no choice but to send Qushe back into the mountains. He kept the sword and elixir pills for himself. That night, wind and thunder rose violently, and the sword and elixir immediately flew away with a ringing cry and disappeared. Qushe heard that the precious sword had returned beneath the rock.

After that, Qushe lived in the mountains for more than fifteen years. He often said that he had seen dragons, tigers, and strange birds appearing in the courtyard. The Daoists of Anhe Abbey often lived at the summit; when they burned incense and presented memorials, they saw the tracks of dragons, tigers, and birds, and all were astonished. Qushe went many years without eating. If someone did something filthy on the mountain, in spring and winter fierce beasts would come to harass them, and in autumn and summer they would be bitten by venomous snakes.

Qushe also said that whenever there was thunder and rain, the thunder and lightning seemed to occur only around the mountainside; he often saw cloud dragons, the Thunder Lord, the Lightning Dame, and many spirits and ghosts come into the mountains. Sometimes they also appeared to people, and they were all very courteous. Daoists lodging there at night heard what seemed to be people conversing in the quiet chamber where Qushe stayed; when they secretly peered in, they only smelled an unusual fragrance filling the room and heard the sounds of jade pendants. Sometimes they also saw someone wearing a “Far Roaming” cap and crimson robes…

Four men and women sat facing one another in attendance, all with spiral topknots and flowing hair, wearing thin silk garments of pale green. Their attendants were all Jade Boys and Jade Girls, whose bodies shone with radiance; nearby, divine beings stood at a distance. The Daoist priests did not dare disturb them and only served them with pious reverence.

One day, Qushe said to the Daoist priests, “I fear I am about to leave this mountain and will no longer meet with you often.” A few days later, colored clouds swirled around them, and the calls of luan birds and swans, together with music, resounded through the sky and circled above the mountain peak. Then spirit officials (celestial functionaries), riding dragons and deer and accompanied by canopied carriages and banners, came to welcome him; the carriages and mounts were all of five colors, and luan and phoenixes followed as well. Qushe then ascended into heaven. Below the mountain, many monks and laypeople watched.

Sun Simiao

Sun Simiao was a native of Huayuan in Jingzhao. At seven he entered school and could recite a thousand characters a day. After he grew up, he enjoyed discussing the Zhuangzi, the Laozi, and the doctrines of the various schools. During the reign of Emperor Xuan of the Northern Zhou, when the affairs of the royal house were in turmoil, he withdrew to Mount Taibai, where he cultivated the Dao, refined Qi, nurtured his physical form, and sought methods of transcending the dusty world.

He understood astronomy and was skilled in calendrical calculation; he also studied medicine deeply and was good at observing people’s voices and complexions. He constantly harbored a compassionate heart, doing good and relieving others secretly in all matters, and he regarded helping the world as his own merit.

Once, while traveling, he saw a cowherd boy injure a small snake, whose body was already bleeding. Sun Simiao asked the boy to spare it, took off his clothes to buy the snake, and treated it. He applied medicine to the wound and placed the snake in the grass.

More than a month later, when Sun Simiao traveled again, he saw a young man dressed in white, whose servants and horses were all robust. The young man dismounted and bowed to Sun Simiao, saying, “I have been saved by you, Daoist master.” Sun Simiao did not take this to heart. The young man bowed again and asked Sun Simiao to mount another horse and travel with him. The two rode swiftly and soon arrived at a walled city. It was spring there, with flourishing flowers and trees and a beautiful scene; the gates and courtyards were splendid, and there were many people, as if it were the dwelling place of a king.

The young man invited Sun Simiao inside. There he saw a man of dignified appearance, wearing a lined cap and crimson garments, surrounded by many attendants. He joyfully welcomed Sun Simiao and thanked him, saying, “I have always been grateful to you, Daoist master, and so I specially sent my son to welcome you. Earlier, my little son went out alone and was suddenly harmed by a foolish person. Fortunately, you, Daoist master, took off your clothes to buy him and saved him, and thus his life was preserved. Our whole family is grateful for this life-saving kindness. Now to be able to see you, Daoist master, is already a great honor.”

After a short while, the man again invited Sun Simiao into an inner chamber. He saw a middle-aged woman leading out a child dressed in blue, and the mother and child bowed repeatedly to Sun Simiao in thanks. The man said, “This child is foolish and was harmed by someone; fortunately, you, Daoist master, saved him, and he escaped disaster.” Only then did Sun Simiao recall that he had once saved....

Green Snake asked in surprise, “What place is this?” She also saw eunuchs and palace women all around, and so she addressed the ruler wearing a lined cap as “Consort Queen.” Finding this strange, she quietly asked those beside her. The attendants replied, “This is the Jingyang Water Palace.”

The King of the Water Palace then ordered his guests and subordinate officials to prepare wine and food, songs and dances, and to feast Simiao. Simiao declined on the grounds of practicing grain avoidance and Qi ingestion, saying that he only drank wine. The company urged him to stay for three days and asked what he wanted. Simiao replied, “I enjoy living in the mountains and delight in cultivating the Dao, seeking truth, and refining Shen. Although my eyes see these sights, my heart has no desires.”

The King of the Water Palace then gave him light silk, pearls, and gold as a parting gift. Simiao firmly declined, saying, “Those who cultivate the Dao do not keep such things in mind; why should you use them to repay me?” The King of the Water Palace therefore ordered his son to bring thirty medicinal formulas from the Dragon Palace and give them to Simiao, saying, “These are precisely what a true cultivator of the Dao can use to aid the people of the world.” Soon afterward, he ordered servants to prepare horses and escort Simiao back to the mountains.

After Simiao returned, he found the experience extraordinary, so he tried each of the formulas one by one, and all proved as effective as if divinely verified. Later he compiled the thirty-volume Qianjin Fang (Prescriptions Worth a Thousand in Gold), which included the formulas transmitted from the Dragon Palace. He also diagnosed illness according to people’s voices and complexion, and compiled a one-volume Mai Jing (Classic of the Pulse), which circulated widely in the world.

When Emperor Wen of Sui was acting as regent, he summoned Simiao to serve as Erudite of the National University, but he did not accept. He once told people, “In another fifty years a sage will appear; I will assist him and relieve the common people.” In the time of Emperor Taizong of Tang, the emperor summoned him to the capital and was astonished at how youthful he looked, saying, “It seems that those who possess the Dao are truly worthy of respect; the legends of immortals such as Xianmen are not empty words.” Emperor Taizong prepared to grant him official rank and title, but Simiao firmly declined. In the early years of Emperor Gaozong of Tang, the court again appointed him Grand Master of Remonstrance, and he declined once more. At that time he was over ninety, yet his eyesight and hearing had still not declined.

Lu Zhaolin of Fanyang was very famous at the time but had contracted a serious illness. He lamented that people differ in their natural endowments and that lifespans vary in length, and so asked Simiao, “What principles does a famous physician rely on when treating illness?”

Simiao replied, “I have heard that those skilled in discussing the Dao of Heaven invariably seek verification in human beings, and those skilled in discussing the principles of humanity invariably take the Dao of Heaven as their foundation. Heaven has the four seasons and the Five Phases; cold and heat alternate in their movement: when their movement is harmonious, it becomes rain; when their transformations are intense, it becomes wind; when they congeal, they become frost and snow; when they unfold and manifest, they become rainbows. These are all constant principles of the movement of Heaven and Earth. Humans have four limbs and the five viscera; they have waking and sleeping, breathing out and drawing in; the body’s activity manifests as movement and circulation, the flow of Qi and blood forms Ying and Wei (the Qi that circulates within and protects the body), what appears outwardly is complexion, and what is emitted is voice. These are all constant principles of human bodily functioning. Yang Qi exerts its refined, subtle function; Yin Qi exerts its formative, physical function…”

This is a principle shared by Heaven and humanity. When the body is out of balance, stagnating yang Qi steams and produces fever; when blockages prevent free flow, cold arises. When cold Qi congeals, warts and excrescences form; when Qi and blood sink downward, abscesses and ulcers develop; when breath rushes and presses, panting follows; when Jing and Qi are exhausted, the body becomes scorched and withered. Symptoms appear in the facial complexion, and the body changes accordingly. Extending this to Heaven and Earth, the situation is the same.

The movements of the Five Wefts (the five planets) have times of fullness and contraction; stars lose their regular measures; the sun and moon move out of order; comets and anomalous stars sweep past—these are the illnesses of Heaven and Earth. Cold and heat coming out of season are Heaven and Earth’s Qi mechanism being knotted and blocked; rocks jutting forth and earth swelling up are the warts and excrescences grown by Heaven and Earth; mountains collapsing and earth sinking are Heaven and Earth’s abscesses and ulcers; violent winds and torrential rain are Heaven and Earth’s panting exhaustion; rain coming out of season and rivers drying up are Heaven and Earth’s scorched withering. Skilled physicians follow these principles, using medicines to rescue and acupuncture and moxibustion to regulate. Sages, by contrast, harmonize Heaven and Earth with Dao and De, assisted by human effort. Thus, just as the human body has illnesses that can be cured, Heaven and Earth have disasters that can be eliminated.

It also says: courage should be great, thought should be cautious; wisdom should be round and harmonious, conduct square and upright. The Classic of Poetry says, “As if approaching a deep abyss, as if treading on thin ice”—this speaks of caution and care. “The stalwart warrior is a shield and wall for the duke and lord”—this speaks of great courage. Not altering one’s purpose for private gain, not hesitating or shrinking back before what is right—this speaks of decisive action. Perceiving the opportune moment and acting at once, not waiting for the day to end—this speaks of rounded wisdom. His literary brilliance stood out, and his Daoist arts were more than can be fully recorded.

Not long after Emperor Gaozong came to the throne, the court intended to appoint him to the title of Chengwulang (Gentleman for Court Service) and assign him to the Bureau of Imperial Medicine, but he did not accept. In the early morning of the fifteenth day of the second month in the third year of Yonghui, he rose and bathed, dressed neatly in cap and robes, sat upright with hands folded, and said to his children and grandchildren: “I have been constrained by the world, and so could only withdraw to a cave abode to cultivate, preparing to ascend to the land of Nothing-Whatsoever. I hold office as a minister at the Golden Citadel, yet I cannot come and go at summons.” Soon his breath ceased. He left final instructions requesting a simple burial, with no mingqi (burial objects) and no sacrificial animal rites. More than a month later, his complexion remained unchanged; when the body was lifted into the coffin, it was as light as an empty garment. He had already undergone shijie (liberation from the corpse, the Daoist shedding of the physical form and ascent to immortality).

Zhang Guo

Zhang Guo lived in seclusion in the Tiaoshan area of Hengzhou and traveled between Fenzhou and Jinzhou. People of the time said he possessed the secret arts of longevity. Elders said they had seen him when they were still children; Zhang Guo claimed to have lived several hundred years. Emperor Taizong and Emperor Gaozong of Tang summoned him, but he did not answer the summons; when Wu Zetian summoned him to leave the mountains, he feigned death in front of the Dunü Shrine (Shrine of the Jealous Woman). It was hot weather at the time, and before long the corpse stank and rotted...

Zhang Guo then convinced Wu Zetian that he had died. Later, someone saw him again in the mountains of Hengzhou. In the twenty-third year of the Kaiyuan era, Emperor Ming of Tang (Tang Minghuang) sent the Tongshi Sheren Pei Wu by post horse to Hengzhou to welcome Zhang Guo. When Pei Wu met him, sure enough, his breath had stopped and he was dead. Pei Wu then burned incense and read aloud the emperor’s intention to seek the Dao. After a short while, Zhang Guo gradually revived. Pei Wu did not dare hurry him and hurried back to report to the emperor.

The emperor then ordered the Zhongshu Sheren Xu Qiao and the Tongshi Sheren Lu Chongxuan to bring the imperial edict to welcome Zhang Guo. Zhang Guo followed Xu Qiao to the Eastern Capital and was lodged in the Jixian Academy. Thereafter he entered the palace in a shoulder-carried sedan chair and was received with attentive courtesy. The nobles and high ministers all came to pay their respects and ask him about cultivating the Dao, but he always deliberately gave vague answers. He often said, “I was born in the bingzi year during the reign of Emperor Yao.” At the time, no one could determine his origins.

He also said that he had served as Shizhong (Palace Attendant) under Emperor Yao, was skilled in embryonic breathing (taixi, a cultivation method of regulating the breath), and could go many days without eating. Emperor Ming of Tang had fine wine and Sanhuang Pills (a kind of elixir) sent to him, and Zhang Guo accepted them all. While he was staying in the palace, the emperor bestowed wine on him, but he declined, saying, “This humble minister cannot drink two sheng of wine. I have a disciple who can drink one dou.”

Emperor Ming was delighted to hear this and ordered the disciple summoned. Before long, a young Daoist of sixteen or seventeen came flying down from the palace eaves. He was handsome and of a clear, detached demeanor; when he greeted the emperor, his words were crisp and bright, and his etiquette was complete. The emperor told him to sit, but Zhang Guo said, “As a disciple, he normally stands in attendance beside his master; he should not be granted a seat.” The emperor was even more pleased and gave him wine to drink. He drank one dou and was still not drunk, so Zhang Guo said, “No more should be bestowed. If he drinks to excess, I fear he will lose his composure and make Your Majesty laugh.”

The emperor still urged him to drink. Suddenly the wine gushed out from the top of the young Daoist’s head, his cap fell to the ground, and it turned into a wine vessel (a container for wine). The emperor and the palace consorts were all astonished and laughed; when they looked again, the young Daoist had vanished, leaving only a golden wine vessel on the ground. When they opened it, it contained one dou of wine; on examination, it turned out to be exactly the wine vessel from the Jixian Academy. Zhang Guo repeatedly performed immortal arts, with transformations too many to recount.

Thereupon the emperor issued an edict: “Master Zhang Guo of Hengzhou, whose traces transcend the dusty world, whose conduct is pure and lofty, and whose mind is profound. He hides himself among the mundane, and has answered the summons to the capital, yet no one knows his age. People even regard him as a lofty figure from the time of Fuxi. When asked about the essentials of the Dao, he comprehends them thoroughly and reaches directly to the cardinal meaning. Now as he is about to enter court to pay his respects, We specially bestow favor, granting him the title of Yin Qing Guanglu Dafu and the appellation ‘Master Tongxuan.’” Zhang Guo repeatedly petitioned, saying he was old and ill, and asked to return to Hengzhou. The emperor gave him three hundred bolts of silk and sent two disciples to accompany him, supplying post stations and a sedan chair.

When he reached Hengzhou, one of his disciples was sent back, and the other followed him into the mountains. During the Tianbao era, Emperor Xuanzong again sent men to summon him; hearing that he had already died, they told his disciples. The disciples buried him. Later someone opened the grave, but inside there was only an empty coffin.

Xu Xuanping

Xu Xuanping was a native of She County in Xin’an Commandery. During the Jingyun reign period of Tang Emperor Ruizong, he lived in seclusion in a mountain hollow south of Chengyang Mountain, where he built a thatched hut. No one knew what he ate; people only saw that he never took food, yet his appearance was like that of a man around forty, his body light and healthy, and he walked so fast that he could even overtake a galloping horse.

Sometimes he carried firewood to sell, and on his carrying pole he often hung a decorated gourd and a curved bamboo staff. Whenever he was drunk, he would stagger back, chanting: “At dawn I carry firewood out the door to sell; as the sun sets I buy wine and return. People of the time, do not ask me—I pass through clouds and mist into the green mountain colors.” He lived in the mountains for more than thirty years, sometimes helping people in urgent trouble, sometimes healing the suffering and sick. People from the city often went looking for him but could never find him; they could only see a poem written on the wall of his thatched hut:

“Living in seclusion for thirty years, I built a hut atop the southern mountain. On quiet nights I enjoy the bright moon; on idle mornings I drink from the emerald spring. Woodcutters sing on the ridges; valley birds play before the rocks. I am happy and do not know old age; I have forgotten the cycle of years.”

This means: He lived in seclusion for thirty years, building a hut on top of the southern mountain; at night he quietly enjoyed the bright moon, and at dawn he leisurely drank from a clear spring. Woodcutters sang on the ridges, and mountain birds played before the rocks. His life was free and joyful, and he forgot that he was growing old; he also forgot the passing of the years.

Many admirers of this poem spread it far and wide. Someone reached Chang’an and wrote the poem on the walls of post stations and inns around Luoyang, Tongzhou, and Huazhou. During the Tianbao era, after leaving the Hanlin Academy, Li Bai traveled east. Passing by an inn, he read this poem and exclaimed, “This is the poem of an immortal!” He asked around and learned of Xu Xuanping’s story, so he traveled all the way to Xin’an, crossed streams and climbed mountains, and searched for him many times, but did not find him. So Li Bai wrote a poem on the wall of the thatched hut:

“I chant the post-station poem and come to visit the immortal’s dwelling. Misty ridges obscure his lofty traces; clouded forests separate us from the Great Void. Peering into the courtyard, I find only desolation; leaning on my staff, I pace in vain. You must have transformed into an immortal crane flying into the distant sky, and will return only after a thousand years or more.”

This means: Chanting the poem from the inn, I came to seek the immortal’s dwelling; mist-shrouded ridges hide his lofty traces, and the forests in the clouds seem to separate us from the distant heavenly realm. Looking into the courtyard, I see only desolation; leaning on my staff, I linger in vain. You have probably transformed into an immortal crane flying into the distant sky, and will return only after a thousand years.

After Xu Xuanping returned to the thatched hut and saw the poem on the wall, he also chanted: “A pond of lotus leaves provides endless clothing; two acres of huangjing provide more than enough food. Since someone has come looking for me again, I must move my hut and live deeper in the mountains.” This means: The lotus leaves filling the pond can serve as clothing, and two acres of huangjing are enough to eat; someone has come looking for me again, so I have no choice but to move my hut and dwell deeper in the mountains. Later, the thatched hut was burned down by a wildfire, and no one knew where Xu Xuanping had gone.

More than a hundred years later, in the twelfth year of Xiantong, there was a maidservant in the household of Xu Mingshu in the commandery. She had originally been going into the mountains with companions to gather firewood. One day, alone in the southern mountains, she saw a man sitting on a rock, eating a very large peach. The man asked the maidservant, “Are you from Xu Mingshu’s household?”

The maidservant asked him, “Are you that man?” Xuanping replied, “I am Xuanping, Mingshu’s grandfather.” The maidservant said, “I have often heard the family say that the grandfather attained the Dao and became an immortal many years ago, but there has never been any way to find him.”

Xuanping said to the maidservant, “Go back and tell Mingshu for me: I am in this mountain. I will give you a peach to eat, but do not take it out of the mountain. There are many tigers and wolves in the mountain, and the mountain god treasures this peach.” The maidservant ate the peach and found it extremely delicious; in a short while she had finished it. Xuanping told her to follow the woodcutter home. After the maidservant returned, she felt that the firewood she was carrying had become lighter, and her body too was light, brisk, and strong. When she reached home, she told Mingshu everything about meeting the grandfather Xuanping in the mountain. Mingshu scolded her for directly calling their grandfather by name and took up a stick to beat her. The maidservant’s body rose up with the stick, and then she vanished without a trace.

Later someone entered the mountain and saw that the maidservant looked like a child, with a light body and robust health; she wore clothes made of tree bark and moved as swiftly as a gale. Then she leaped up into the trees and was gone.

Liu Shang

Liu Shang was from Pengcheng and lived in Chang’an. He was studious and had a strong memory, and he was skilled at writing prose. His “Eighteen Songs on a Nomad Flute” was quite popular, and both children and women could recite it. He passed the jinshi examination and held successive posts in the central government, rising to the office of Langzhong.

By nature Liu Shang loved Daoist arts, and whenever he met a Daoist he would take him as a teacher and seek instruction. He diligently practiced refining elixirs and ingesting Qi—a Daoist practice of regulating the breath and guiding Qi—and never slackened. He often sighed that human life is short and that sinews and bones gradually decline; busying himself every day, he was only toiling himself. What benefit to himself was the pursuit of worldly glory and official rank? Among the worthies of antiquity, some abandoned office in order to seek the Dao and in the end transcended the world. Now that he had fortunately completed his marriage obligations and was no longer entangled by worldly affairs, was he to be outdone by Xu Yuanyou? So he pleaded illness, resigned office, and entered Daoist cultivation.

Liu Shang came to Guangling, and in the city market he met a Daoist selling medicine. Many people had gathered around, and all said that his medicines often had miraculous effects. The Daoist saw Liu Shang in the crowd and felt that he was extraordinary, so he put away his medicine stall, drew him up to a wine tower, and drank and talked freely with him. The Daoist spoke of events from the Qin and Han dynasties onward as though he had seen them with his own eyes. Liu Shang was greatly astonished and honored him as a teacher. The Daoist then spoke of the arts of immortals and the Dao, saying that these are not things that human effort can obtain. Toward evening Liu Shang returned to his lodging; after the Daoist went downstairs, he suddenly disappeared, and Liu Shang was even more astonished.

The next day Liu Shang found the Daoist again in the market. The Daoist was even happier to see him and again drew him up to the wine tower to talk freely, until they were mellow with wine and thoroughly content. At parting, the Daoist took out a small medicine pouch and gave it to Liu Shang, and smiling, he chanted:

“With nothing to do I came to Yangzhou;

Hand in hand we climbed the wine tower.

I give you this medicine pouch in farewell—

What will it be like a thousand years from now?”

The merchant remembered the Daoist’s instructions, obtained the bag, and did not take his leave until dusk. Later, when the merchant went looking for the Daoist again, he never saw him again.

The merchant opened the bag and saw that inside were layers upon layers of paper. Within the paper was a gourd, and in the gourd were nine pills, each the size of a hemp seed. He swallowed the pills according to the oral formula the Daoist had transmitted. At once he felt his spirit fresh and clear, he was no longer hungry, and his body became so light that he seemed about to float. He crossed the river to Maoshan and stayed there for a long time; later he went to Zhanggong Cave in Yixing. In spring, he loved the scenery of Yanhua Creek, so he entered the Hufu Mountains, repaired a dwelling in the mountains, and lived there in seclusion. Nearby woodcutters occasionally still saw him, and he said he was Liu Langzhong. Later no one knew where he had gone; he had probably become an earth immortal (an immortal who dwells among humans and does not die).

Liu Jian

Liu Jian (pronounced jiàn), whose childhood name was Yige, was Liu Zhan’s younger brother. Liu Jian’s family was poor, but he was fond of Daoist arts. When a Daoist passed by his home, he felt that Liu Jian was unusual and asked whether he understood Daoist arts. Liu Jian answered, “A little.” The Daoist said, “The worldly air about you is rather heavy; your affinity for cultivating the Dao is not yet ripe. There is no need to force yourself to study the Dao.” Liu Jian asked, “May I take you as my teacher?” The Daoist agreed. So Liu Jian became his disciple and followed the Daoist into Luofu Mountain.

Both Liu Jian and Liu Zhan studied, but Liu Jian lived in the mountains seeking the Dao. He wore no cap on his head, only cloth garments, and cultivated under the Daoist. Liu Zhan, by contrast, admired fame, rank, wealth, and honor. Liu Jian said to Liu Zhan, “I probably will not pass the examinations; I will live freely in the mountains and wilds. If you pass, you will toil in the dusty world, and in the end you will not catch up with me. Still, be cautious amid wealth and honor. Forty years from now, it will naturally come true.”

Liu Zhan said, “The way of immortals is distant and difficult to seek; Qin Shi Huang and Emperor Wu of Han also pursued it bitterly. Official posts in the court, however, are close at hand; I too can follow in the footsteps of men like Ma Zhou and Zhang Jiazhen.”

From then on, Liu Jian devoted himself even more single-mindedly to the Dao and finally lived in seclusion on Luofu Mountain. Liu Zhan passed the jinshi examination, successively held clear, important, and prestigious offices, and later rose to chancellor, gaining a considerable reputation for assisting court governance and harmonizing government affairs. Before long he was banished to the south. When he reached Chaotai in Guangzhou, he moored his boat by the river. Suddenly a young man wearing a cloth cap and cloth clothes came hurrying through a violent rainstorm, yet his clothes and shoes were not wet at all. Everyone was astonished. The man only said, “Yige has come.” The attendants reported this to Liu Zhan. Liu Zhan asked what the visitor looked like; after hearing the description, he was greatly astonished and welcomed him in to meet.

Liu Jian looked no more than about twenty, while Liu Zhan was already white-haired, aged, and haggard. Because of Liu Zhan’s banishment, the two brothers were overcome with mixed grief and joy and sighed with deep emotion. Liu Jian consoled him further, saying, “After all, you and I are own brothers; the brotherly bond is what makes one grieve most deeply. What I said then is exactly forty years ago today.” Liu Zhan was even more moved and asked Liu Jian, “Can I still cultivate the Dao again?” Liu Jian replied, “Elder brother’s body...”

To seek glory, favor, and official rank, to harmonize Yin-Yang, and to labor anxiously over every affair—how could one avoid being worn down? Moreover, you have already ascended to become a celestial immortal; how could I still save you? Now I have only come to take leave of you, not to save you. Thereupon the two traveled together by boat, and when they parted they spoke of past experiences. After they parted, a night passed and no one knew where he had gone. Later, people occasionally saw him in Mount Luofu. Zhan continued southward and ultimately died in the place to which he had been exiled.

Luo Wanxiang

No one knew where Luo Wanxiang was from. He had literary talent, understood astronomy, and deeply studied the Yijing (Classic of Changes); his moral character and integrity were extraordinary. He traveled the world as a commoner for a long time, staying at Mount Wangwu for many years before later traveling to Mount Luofu. He sighed and said: “This is the Zhuming Grotto-Heaven—what Daoism calls a grotto-heaven and blessed land. In the past, Ge Zhichuan (Ge Hong, a Daoist of the Eastern Jin) lived here and refined elixirs. Although there is no Deng Yue now—the man who once invited Ge Hong to refine elixirs—to urge me to stay, I will lodge here for a while.”

He loved the scenery of Shilou, so he built a thatched hut at the foot of the mountain and lived there. He often ate Huangjing (Polygonatum) and practiced ingesting Qi, continuing this for several decades. Sometimes he traveled to the Zengcheng, Quanshan, and Bushui areas to gather herbs; sometimes he entered towns in the Fu and Guang regions to sell medicine and drink wine, his whereabouts uncertain. At times he could eat at one meal as much as more than ten people; at other times he ate nothing, and people did not know how many years he had lived. As time passed, his complexion became lustrous and his body light and vigorous; he could travel three or four hundred li a day, and even when walking slowly, a galloping horse could not catch him. Later he returned to the Shilou thatched hut and never went out again, living in seclusion in the mountains.

Sima Chengzhen

Sima Chengzhen, courtesy name Zizheng, was learned and talented, skilled in composition, and especially accomplished in seal script. His seal script formed a style of its own and was called “Golden Scissors Script.” He lived in seclusion on Yuxiao Peak of Tiantai Mountain, called himself Baiyunzi (Master White Cloud), and understood the arts of ingesting substances and nourishing life.

Empress Wu Zetian of the Tang repeatedly issued edicts summoning him, but he did not respond. Emperor Ruizong greatly esteemed Daoism and repeatedly treated him with honor. When Sima Chengzhen was summoned to court, Ruizong asked him about Yin-Yang arts and numerology. Sima Chengzhen replied: “The Laojun Jing (Scripture of Lord Lao) says, ‘Reduce it and reduce it again, until you reach Wuwei.’ Even the things that the human mind and eyes see and know should be reduced again and again before they can possibly cease; how much more should one not delve into heterodox side arts and add to one’s thoughts and worries?”

Ruizong asked: “If in cultivating oneself one takes Wuwei as the principle, one can become pure, quiet, and enlightened; but if governing the state also speaks of Wuwei, how should that be done?” Sima Chengzhen replied: “The state is like a person’s body. The Zhuangzi says: lodge the spirit in blandness, cause the Qi to return to emptiness and stillness, and accord with naturalness; then one will be without selfishness, and the world will be well governed. The Yijing says that the sage’s De (Virtue/Power) accords with Heaven and Earth. From this we know that Heaven does not speak yet is trustworthy, and does not act with deliberate intent yet brings all things to completion—this is the essential meaning of Wuwei.”

The essentials of governing the state: Emperor Ruizong of Tang greatly admired Sima Chengzhen and wanted to keep him at court, intending to grant him a higher official post. Sima Chengzhen firmly declined, saying that he wished to return to the mountains to cultivate. The emperor therefore bestowed on him a precious qin and a flowered cape (the colored shoulder cape worn by Daoist priests) and sent him out of the capital. Dukes and ministers also composed poems to see him off. The Attendant Xu Yanbo selected more than thirty excellent pieces from among them, wrote a preface for them, and titled the collection Record of White Clouds; the book later circulated in the world.

At that time, Lu Zangyong had in his early years lived as a recluse in the Zhongnan Mountains and later entered court to become a prominent official. When he heard that Sima Chengzhen was about to return to Mount Tiantai, Lu Zangyong pointed to the Zhongnan Mountains and said, “There are many fine places in here; why must you go to Mount Tiantai?” Sima Chengzhen replied, “In my view, this is merely a shortcut to office.” Lu Zangyong showed shame on his face.

During his reign, Emperor Xuanzong of Tang greatly venerated Daoist arts. He summoned Sima Chengzhen to the capital, had him stay in the inner palace hall, treated him with great respect, and asked him about methods for prolonging life and for aiding the world and saving people. Sima Chengzhen spoke in a veiled way about profound matters, and Xuanzong kept these words secret, so that others had no way of learning them. Xuanzong governed the state for forty-five years; although he met with the turmoil in which An Lushan captured the capital and the emperor fled to Shu, after abdicating he lived another seven years before dying. The author holds that this was certainly the mandate of Heaven, but it was also not necessarily unrelated to the life-prolonging effects of Daoist arts.

Earlier, after Xuanzong ascended Mount Tai and performed the Fengshan grand sacrifice, he asked Sima Chengzhen, “What deities preside over the Five Peaks?” Sima Chengzhen replied, “The Five Peaks are great mountains that guard and protect their regions; they can summon clouds and bring rain, and many immortals dwell in seclusion there. All mountains that receive state sacrifices and are revered by the people have mountain-and-forest deities, and immortal officials also preside over them.” Xuanzong then issued an edict to establish separately temples to immortal officials at the summits of the Five Peaks. This practice began with Sima Chengzhen.

Later, the female Daoist Xie Ziran of Shu took a boat across the sea, wishing to go to Penglai to seek a teacher, but the boat was blown by the wind to a mountain. She met a Daoist, who instructed her, saying, “Sima Chengzhen of Mount Tiantai has his name listed on the Dantai (Cinnabar Terrace, where, according to Daoist tradition, the names of immortals and true ones are recorded) and lives at Chicheng; he is a truly good teacher. Penglai is separated by three hundred thousand li of weak water (a legendary body of water difficult to cross); it cannot be reached by boat. Unless one becomes a flying immortal, there is no way to go there.” Xie Ziran then changed her itinerary, returned, took Sima Chengzhen as her teacher, received his guidance and deliverance, and later ascended to heaven in broad daylight.

Sima Chengzhen diligently cultivated the Dao in the mountains and lived to more than a hundred years old; yet his appearance remained youthful and his body light and agile, so that he looked about thirty. He had more than seventy disciples. One day he told his disciples, “When I looked east from Yuxiao Peak toward Penglai, true spirits often descended. Now Lord Qingtong of the Eastern Sea and Lord Donghua have summoned me; I fear I shall soon leave the human world.”

When his breath ceased, he seemed like a cicada casting off its shell: already freed, transformed, and gone. His disciples buried his clothes and cap.

Lüqiu Fangyuan

Lüqiu Fangyuan, courtesy name Dafang, was a native of Susong in Shuzhou. Clever and eloquent from childhood, by sixteen he had mastered the Classic of Poetry and the Book of Documents, and on Mount Lu he studied the Yijing (Classic of Changes) under Chen Yuan. At twenty-nine he consulted Zuo Yuanze of Xianglin about the study of the “Great Elixir” (dadan), and Zuo Yuanze regarded him as outstanding. Later he took Liu Chujing of Yinzhen Rock on Xiandu Mountain as his teacher and learned the arts of cultivating Perfection and transcending the world.

At thirty-four, Lüqiu Fangyuan received ritual registers (falu)—the credentials of priestly office conferred in Daoism—at Yuxiao Palace on Tiantai Mountain. Ye Zangzhi transmitted to him all the secret instructions of the True Text. In addition to practicing guarding the One (shouyi) and circulating Qi (vital energy; xingqi), Fangyuan was very fond of the various masters, the Hundred Schools, and historical works. Whenever he read, he could memorize a text after a single reading. He often said, “Ge Zhichuan (Ge Hong) and Tao Zhenbai (Tao Hongjing) are my teachers and friends.” He arranged and edited the Taiping Jing (Scripture of Great Peace) into thirty chapters, fully elucidating its essential teachings. Thus his fame grew ever greater throughout the Jiang-Huai region.

In the second year of Jingyou of the Tang, Qian Liu, Prince of Pengcheng in Qiantang, deeply admired Fangyuan’s moral virtue, personally visited him at Dadi Cave in Yuhang, built a dwelling for him, and commended his cultivation and achievements. Emperor Zhaozong summoned Fangyuan to court several times. Judging from celestial omens that the Qin region would be overrun by war and that the Tang dynasty’s mandate would surely change, Fangyuan followed the example of Yuan and Qi (Lord Dongyuan and Jili Ji among the Four White-Haired Recluses of Mount Shang) and remained in the mountains, never answering the summons. The emperor therefore issued an edict praising him, bestowed ritual vestments on him to make manifest Daoist teaching and edification, and granted him the titles Miaoyou Dashi and Xuantong Xiansheng.

Fangyuan promoted the sage’s teachings and enlightened the benighted; his deeds of cultivating Perfection were widely known, and people of Wu and Chu accordingly flocked to study under him. He had more than two hundred disciples, among whom Xia Yinyan of Kuaiji, Dai Yinyu of Qiao, Zheng Yinyao of Xingyang, Lu Yinzhou of Wu Commandery, Sheng Yinlin of Guangling, and Zhang Yinzhi of Wudu all transmitted the essential purport of the Daoist teachings and entered deeply into the inner chamber. Cheng Zixiao of Guangping was summoned to the Qin court, and Nie Shidao of Xin’an spread the teaching in the state of Wu; Hu Qianguang of Anding, Kong Zonglu of Lu, and ten others all received the subtle essentials of contemplating the True and refining Shen (spirit). As for the remaining disciples, some traveled among sacred sites and some withdrew to famous mountains; their deeds can no longer be recorded one by one.

On the fourteenth day of the second month in the second year of Tianfu, Fangyuan bathed, burned incense, and sat upright in quiet expectancy. At noon he passed away peacefully; his complexion was serene, his body naturally relaxed, and a rich, unusual fragrance spread around him.

Three days later, the corpse had not decayed. His disciples performed the rites according to secular funeral custom and placed the body in a coffin; but the coffin contained only empty garments. Nie Shidao had already undergone shijie (corpse liberation—the Daoist notion that an adept who attains the Dao leaves behind the physical form and departs). He was buried at White Deer Mountain beside Dadi Cave. Later, people saw him repeatedly at Xiandu Mountain and Mount Lu. He declared, “I left Dadi Cave and retired to Tianzhu Source in Qianshan.”

Nie Shidao

Nie Shidao, courtesy name Tongwei, was a native of She County in Xin'an. By nature intelligent, honest, and upright, he was humble and cautious in speech and conduct; he served his parents with filial piety and was well respected in his locality. In his youth he took as his teacher a fangwai Daoist (one who had left the household to cultivate the Dao); this Daoist was his cousin Dehui. Two years after Dehui was appointed governor of Xin'an from the post of provincial official, the young Daoist accompanied him to Jingnan and served as a scribe.

Nie Shidao had left his wife and children early to enter the Dao and studied methods for nurturing Qi and cultivating Perfection. He traveled through the Five Sacred Mountains and famous mountains. After he came to Xin'an, Dehui chose a scenic spot on the eastern hill of the commandery city and built a house for him to live in, naming it Wenzheng Mountain Retreat. Nie Shidao served his teacher there for more than ten years, learning Daoist methods, Fulu (talismans and registers), and the essentials of cultivating Perfection.

Later he traveled among streams and mountains. He said that he had read in esoteric Daoist texts about a method of consuming pine resin, and so he and his companions on the Dao climbed Baizhang Mountain to gather pine resin. The cliffs and rocks of the mountain were high, steep, and winding, which is how it got its name. Its summit rose more than a thousand ren. They spent the night beneath pines at the cliff top. When the sky was clear and the moon bright, they suddenly heard celestial music coming from purple clouds in the southeast, drifting slowly past Shijin Mountain. Shijin Mountain was as high as Baizhang; though the two peaks were thirty li apart, from the summit they seemed close at hand. When the celestial music reached Shijin Mountain, it paused for a while; then three rolls of small drums sounded, followed by music of metal and stone, sheng, xiao, strings, and gourd-sheng—clear, high, and quite unlike the music of the human world. The music lasted from the third watch until cockcrow. Later, when they asked people at the foot of the mountain, they learned that everyone had heard it that night as well. A companion on the Dao with them exclaimed, “We were gathering spiritual medicine when we suddenly heard celestial music. Could it be a response to something? Perhaps it is an auspicious sign of your attaining the Dao.”

Later, Nie Shidao traveled to the Southern Sacred Mountain (Nanyue), paid respects at the Yuqing and Guangtian altars, then stayed at Zhaoxian Abbey and entered Dongling Source. It was spring. He heard that the place where Perfected Cai (Cai Zhenren) had once lived in seclusion was not far away, that its flowers and trees were extraordinary, and that woodcutters sometimes saw Perfected Cai among the woods. Nie Shidao was delighted to hear this.

Thereupon, Shidao observed fasting and abstained from grain for seven days. Early one morning, he went alone into the mountains, walking slowly. He saw a kind of flower that gave off a strange fragrance. Before he knew it, the sky had grown late; he came to the bank of a large stream and saw a woodcutter sitting on the sand. Shidao very much wanted to approach him, so he shouldered the firewood and prepared to go down to the stream. When he turned around, the woodcutter had already stopped beside a shed on the bank.

Shidao asked, “Are you here all alone? Where are you going?”

The woodcutter replied, “To study the Dao and seek immortals is the most urgent wish in my heart. I have heard that Perfected Cai (Zhenren Cai, a Perfected who has attained the Dao) lives in seclusion in these mountains, and I hope to pay him a visit once.”

The woodcutter said, “Master Cai lives very deep in the mountains; ordinary people cannot reach him.”

Shidao said, “I have climbed vines and scaled cliffs, and I have already come this far. Since there is a mountain path that leads through, why should I fear that the way is long?”

The woodcutter added, “It is getting dark. Go on ahead first; after crossing this mountain, there are households to the east where you can stay.” Shidao wanted to follow the woodcutter, but the woodcutter suddenly walked into the water. The stream looked very shallow, but when Shidao entered the water, he found it deep and swift, and did not dare cross. The woodcutter said, “You must wait fifty years before you can cross this stream.” Shidao watched the woodcutter walk away over the surface of the water, and then he vanished.

Shidao then turned toward the east side of the mountain and walked more than ten li. In the distance he saw three thatched cottages surrounded by a fence, with chickens in the yard. When he drew near, he saw a man with a pale bluish complexion, like a farmer, about thirty years old, living there alone. Seeing Shidao come alone into the deep mountains, the man was very surprised and said, “Everyone in the household has gone out. What have you come here to do?”

The man then asked Shidao the purpose of his journey. Shidao replied, “I have come to seek the dwelling place of Perfected Cai.” The man said, “Did you meet a woodcutter on the way?” Shidao said, “I did.” The man said, “That was Cai the Daoist; he passed by here just now.” Hearing this, Shidao bowed and said solemnly, “I am so vulgar and foolish that I met an immortal sage and failed to recognize him; such is my fate.”

It was already late, and the mountain forest was dark; Shidao had nowhere to lodge. The man asked where he had come from, and Shidao told him everything about setting out from Xin’an and entering the mountains to seek the Perfected. The man then let him into the house and, pointing to a bed beside the fire pit, told him to sit down. He said, “The food prepared in the mountains has just run out. I went out to look for some food and have not yet returned.”

Shidao said, “I have been without grain for a long time, yet I do not set my heart on eating.” He saw beside the fire pit a soup cauldron (a vessel for boiling water) and several yellow porcelain boxes. The man said, “The things in the boxes are all edible; take whatever you wish to eat.” Shidao opened one box, and inside was tea. The man poured hot water over it and handed it to him; the tea’s aroma was very different from ordinary tea. Shidao wanted more tea, so he opened another box, but no matter how he tried, he could not open it. The other boxes likewise could not be opened. Shidao felt puzzled and thought that this did not resemble what an ordinary farming household would have.

He did not dare tell the host, so he found another room and slept there. By the time the sun had risen high, he still had not gotten up. In his dream he said, “It is lonely and desolate here; if I suddenly fell ill, there would be no one to look after me. There are many households in the village ahead—I can go there.”

Shidao then set out and walked several li, but saw no households; before him were only steep cliffs. He had no choice but to turn back, but he lost his sense of direction to his original lodging. After walking another thirty-plus li, he met an old man. Shidao was delighted, asked the old man to sit on a rock, asked him why he had come into the mountains, and recounted his earlier experiences to him one by one.

The old man said, “Master Cai and his son both live in seclusion in this mountain. The place where you stayed last night was the dwelling of Master Cai’s son.” The old man also said, “Your Dao-qi (the Qi of the Dao) is very strong; you already possess immortal bones (the constitution for cultivating immortality), but you have simply not yet completed your cultivation. Having entered the mountain, you are both hungry and thirsty—how could you walk back?”

The old man then broke off a stalk of grass and gave it to Shidao. The grass looked like a ginger sprout and was a little more than a chi long. Shidao chewed it and found it sweet. The old man then told him to fetch some spring water to drink. When Shidao looked up, the old man had already disappeared. He sighed in unending sorrow.

After eating the grass, Shidao felt his body light and full of strength, far more robust than when he had come. He wanted to follow the mountain path back to find the lodging, but found that the road was blocked by thorns and vines, making it impossible to go forward. So he turned around and returned to Zhaoxian Abbey.

When the Daoist priests in the abbey saw Shidao, they were all astonished and said, “Although this abbey is near the sacred mountain, there are many wild creatures and beasts nearby, and few people can travel alone. How is it that you were gone for over a month at one stretch? We were truly very worried.” Shidao said, “I set out only yesterday and stayed for just one night.” He told them everything: meeting the woodcutter, lodging in the mountain, and later meeting the old man.

The Daoist priests all sighed in amazement and said, “Although we live together in this abbey and devote ourselves single-mindedly to studying the Dao, and we know that Zhenren Cai (Perfected Cai) exists, we have had no chance to see him. You have had immortal affinity from the start, and you have already seen Master Cai and his son. As for that old man, we have heard that Zhenren Peng also lives in seclusion in this mountain—could he have been Master Peng? You entered the mountain once and met three immortals. Clearly only one day and one night passed in the mountain, yet in the human world more than a month has already gone by. Perhaps this is the allotted destiny you have gained from your accumulated cultivation and practice over time.”

Shidao was deeply amazed by this. He remained at Zhaoxian Abbey to cultivate for more than a year. Later, because of his aged parents, he felt homesick and returned to Wenzheng Mountain. After that he often went into the mountains to gather firewood and herbs. Sometimes he encountered tigers and leopards; when they saw Shidao, they would lower their ears, wag their tails, and lie prostrate on the ground. Shidao would stroke them with his hand and call to them, and they would stand up and follow him. Sometimes Shidao would place firewood, grass, and medicinal herbs on the backs of the tigers and leopards; they would carry the loads and escort him back, then leave.

In former times, Guo Wentai lived in Dadi Cave and had a record of subduing tigers.

The circumstances were also like this. In the mountains near She (around present-day She County, Anhui) there were many fierce beasts, but they did not harm people; this was due to Shidao’s transformative influence.

Shidao’s mother would sometimes ask him what he had gained from traveling to study, and he would tell her his experiences one by one. Hearing them, his mother was delighted and said, “You support me with filial devotion and nourish me with the Dao (the Way); I am fortunate indeed to be your mother. This must be the blessing accumulated from former lives.”

Later, Shidao went out traveling again, intending to go to Mount Nan and Mount Jiuyi. He had long heard that Perfected Mei and Vice Minister Xiao were both living in seclusion on Mount Yusi, and at that time people often saw them. Perfected Mei was Mei Fu, commandant of Nanchang in the Han dynasty; Vice Minister Xiao was Xiao Ziyun, courtesy name Jingqiao, a scion of the Liang imperial house who had served as governor of Dongyang and, to escape the Hou Jing rebellion, led his whole family into the mountains. Both Mei Fu and Xiao Ziyun attained the Dao there.

Shidao temporarily stayed at Qingxu Abbey on Mount Yusi. Admiring Mei and Xiao, he went three times to Yumu Hollow, hoping to see them. Resolved to ascend the mountain, he went deeper and deeper, when suddenly he saw a man dressed in plain cloth and wearing a black gauze cap, appearing about fifty years old. Shidao bowed to him and asked his background. The man at first called himself “the Wanderer” and asked where Shidao was going. Shidao replied that he wished to find Mei Fu and Xiao Ziyun.

The Wanderer said, “I have heard that you admire the Great Dao with diligence and single-mindedness, and that you have traveled through famous mountains in search of it—truly no easy matter. If you wish to see these two Perfected Ones, I can take you to them. Your karmic connections from past lives are very pure, and your name has already been entered in the jade register (the Daoist record of the names and ranks of immortals). Though you cannot yet ascend to immortality immediately, you will transcend the mundane world.”

The Wanderer continued, “My name is Xie Xiutong. I tell you my name because I fear you do not recognize me. I originally lived on Mount Nan and once lived in seclusion with Peng and Cai; three hundred years have passed since then. I know that you often travel in the Dongling Spring area. Just now I received the command of Lord Donghua to oversee the affairs of the forest earth immortals of Mount Yusi, and I also govern the earth god and local shrine officials around Qingxu Abbey. You and I have long had a Daoist affinity, which is why we meet today. However, Mei Fu and Xiao Ziyun were summoned away by the Xiaoyou Heavenly King during the day; I fear they will not return soon, so you cannot wait for them.”

Shidao then bowed reverently and said, “I am a mere ordinary person, rashly seeking the Great Dao. I concentrate my spirit and cultivate from morning to night, yet I still do not know its essentials. It is like drifting on the great ocean—how could I recognize its shores? I never expected to meet a Lord of the Dao today; this is truly a fortune rare in a hundred generations.”

Xie Xiutong said, “Your sincerity is wholehearted, and your diligent, bitter cultivation truly moves one to compassion. However, your worldly affairs are not yet concluded; for the time being I will send you out of the mountains.” He led Shidao along for several li, and suddenly they saw two thatched huts. The huts were very clean, with a bed and mat and a small cauldron; the stove fire was burning, and water was boiling in the pot.

In the place where the scholar Shidao was staying, there was no one else. Xiutong ordered Shidao to sit on a wooden rabbit, while he himself sat on a white stone deer couch. Before long, a boy with his hair tied in a topknot brought in a bowl of soup for Shidao to drink. After Shidao drank it, he immediately felt his spirit clear and his Qi refreshed.

Xiutong then pointed to a rack and told him to take a scroll from his sleeve, saying, “This is the Su Shu. If you study it diligently and do not slacken, you will be able to grasp its true purport.”

Shidao wanted to ask to remain and study under Xiutong. Before he had spoken, Xiutong already knew his thoughts and said, “You have elderly relatives. Although you have elder brothers who can support them, if you wish to travel south again, you cannot yet speak of staying. My disciple Zizhi is at Mount Jiuyi. If you go there and see him, relay my message for me and also show him the Su Shu; in this way you will thoroughly grasp the book’s meaning. If you do not see him, throw the Su Shu into the cave by Maoru Stream, and inscribe my instructions on the stone wall. Zizhi will himself transmit the essential Dao to you.”

After saying this, Xiutong sent Shidao back. Soon Xiutong disappeared, and Shidao found that he had already returned to Yumu Pit. He then entered Qingxu Abbey. The Daoist priests were astonished and asked, “You were gone only seven days—where did you go?” Shidao told them everything that had happened. Two of the priests were overjoyed and asked to go with Shidao to Yumu Pit. When they reached the old place, the rocks and vegetation were as clear as before, but the thatched hut alone was gone. They searched dejectedly for a whole day before returning.

The writing in the Su Shu that Shidao obtained was clear and legible. Its contents concerned the secret essentials and true instructions by which the Queen Mother of Guishan instructed and transformed the assembled immortals. If other immortals cultivated this book, they should be able to ascend to Heaven; if people in the world obtained it, they too could join the ranks of the immortal precincts. There were some difficult and doubtful points in the book that could not be fully investigated.

Later, Shidao went to Xiangzhen Abbey at Mount Jiuyi of the Southern Marchmount to look for traces of Zizhi. After more than a month, people all said that there was a recluse in the Maoru Stream area, but no one knew his name. Some had seen him, yet Shidao entered the mountains many times to search and never found him. So Shidao, following Xiutong’s words, threw the book into the cave and inscribed the instructions on the stone wall. Thereafter he often dreamed of a divine man who called himself Zizhi and taught him how to explain the difficult points in the book; when he awoke, he would suddenly understand.

More than a year later, Shidao returned to Wenzheng to live. He lived there for over twenty years. Whenever he burned incense and cultivated, he would reverently view the portraits of the three Zhenren Cai, Peng, and Xie. He also personally wrote out extraordinary accounts on scrolls and transmitted them to people within and beyond the Daoist community. Later, when Wu Taizu dominated the Jiang-Huai region and heard of Shidao’s reputation and deeds, hoping that his Dao and virtue might protect the soldiers and people, he sent envoys to summon him.

Later, he built the Xuanyuan Palace in Guangling (present-day Yangzhou, Jiangsu) and lived there. Whenever he ascended the altar to pray and invoke blessings for people, his prayers proved efficacious in times of flood and drought as well; he moved heaven and earth, and auspicious vapors, clouds, and omens appeared. Thus the common people were all willing to receive Daoist instruction, and within the region it was as if they lived in the Huaxu State, the legendary land of great peace; customs were simple and honest, and everyone dwelt in security. Although ancient and modern times differ, he was indeed a worthy minister assisting the Great Emperor. Thereupon the court issued an edict praising him and bestowed on him titles such as “Xiaoyao Dashi” and “Wenzheng Xiansheng,” making him a grand master who brought renown to the state.

His disciples included Zou De, Kuang Wang Chune, Yang Kuangyi, Wang Yongzhen, Cheng Shoupu, Zeng Jingxiao, Wang Keru, Cui Chanran, Du Chongzhen, Deng Qixia, Wu Zhigu, and others. They all grasped the wondrous principles of the Dao (the Way), transmitted the Shangqing methods—the cultivation practices of the Shangqing Daoist school—and spread Daoist teachings to the various prefectures and districts; the court bestowed purple robes on them all to honor the Daoist community. Literati from Qin, Wu, Jing, Qi, Yan, Liang, Min, Shu, and other regions also came from afar in succession, serving the master diligently for many years in order to study Daoist methods.

The master often said to them, “I possess no Daoist arts; why have you come from such distant places?” The disciples replied, “Formerly Master Zhang lived in Shu, and people throughout the world went to take him as their teacher. According to each person’s level of cultivation, he transmitted the essential Daoist methods separately. His disciples acted as his servants and attended him for many years without leaving, and only then attained immortality. Now we are all old and frail, and our children and grandchildren are daily approaching the years of decline. We wish to escape a brief lifespan and hope to obtain long life. We earnestly beg the master not to refuse us.”

The master received them with a compassionate heart and never declined; rather, according to each person’s endowment and capacity for understanding, he guided them in the essential Daoist methods. As their cultivation went on over time, it was as if they had long walked through mist and dew, so that their clothes became moist; or as if they had drawn near fragrant woods such as luo and chen, so that a faint fragrance clung to their bodies.

He lived in Guangling for more than thirty years and had over five hundred disciples. By that time, he had long practiced embryonic breathing (taixi, a cultivation method based on regulating the breath), and his elixir refinement had also succeeded. One day he told his disciples, “Just now a talisman official (fuli, an officer in Daoism who transmits commands), wearing a black headcloth and red garment, told me that the immortal officials are summoning me; I must leave.” Soon the whole room was filled with an extraordinary fragrance, and cloud-borne cranes came into the courtyard, as if true spirits were gathering. With a clear and serene expression he bade everyone farewell, and then passed away. When the disciples encoffined him, a sound suddenly came from the coffin; opening it, they found what seemed to be only a cicada-shell-like remnant. This is what Daoism calls “shijie” (corpse liberation), when a cultivator leaves behind a discarded shell at death and is considered to have become an immortal.

Several days later, someone came from Yuzhang (around present-day Nanchang, Jiangxi) and said he had seen him, accompanied by a boy whose hair was tied in double tufts. Most local Daoist priests and laypeople recognized him and asked why he was traveling far. He replied, “I left the Southern Marchmount (Nanyue) many years ago; now I am only going there for a time.” Wherever he went, he often stopped at the Daoist palaces and monasteries he had visited before, and then left. Half a year later, another person came from Changsha and said that what he had seen was the same as what the man from Yuzhang had reported. He also said, “The road to Hengyang…” Here the original text breaks off.

The affair of “Returning to the Cave and the Numinous Source” had already fulfilled the woodcutter’s words from that year: after fifty years, they would pass by this stream again. On careful examination of their origins, they turned out to be companions of Cai, Peng, Xie, and others. After living in seclusion they transformed and departed, leaving the mortal world; people could no longer seek out or dwell on their traces. Matters concerning immortals are generally like this.

Yin Wenxiang

Yin Qiqi, whose personal name was Wenxiang and who was also called Daoquan, often called himself Qiqi. Most people called him Yin Qiqi, but no one knew where he was from. He traveled widely, and many said they had seen him long ago; no one could guess his age. His complexion was smooth, radiant, and fair, and he looked about forty. Wherever he went, he sometimes changed his name, so his name was not fixed.

He once sold medicine in Jingzhou. At that time, in the Lingtai area, whether Han Chinese or people of other ethnic groups, all suffered from severe epidemic disease. He took medicine and went in, saying that those who took it would recover, and everyone called him extraordinary. After getting the money for the medicine, he gave it away to others, and ordinarily was often drunk in the city.

Zhou Bao had met him in Chang’an. Before long, Zhou Bao became military governor of Jingyuan, treated Yin Qiqi with courtesy and respect, and admired his Daoist arts and methods of restoring youth and returning to the primordial. Later Zhou Bao was transferred to Zhexi, and several years afterward Yin Qiqi suddenly arrived there and began selling medicine again. When Zhou Bao heard, he was greatly surprised and delighted, summoned him at once, and respected him even more than before.

Whenever Yin Qiqi was drunk, he would often sing: “In a moment I can brew fine wine; in the twinkling of an eye I can make flowers bloom. On the qin I play the tune of jasper; in the furnace I refine white cinnabar.” Zhou Bao once tested the abilities he spoke of, and the results all came true. His skills in planting melons and fishing were also as wondrous as the arts of Ge Xiangong (Ge Xuan, an immortal in Daoist legend).

At Hulin Temple there was an azalea that grew more than ten chi tall and bloomed profusely every late spring. The monks handed down a tradition that during the Zhenyuan era a foreign monk brought a bowl from Mount Tiantai, in which he had nourished the root of this flower with medicine, and afterward planted it. From then on people built and adorned a flower courtyard and kept it locked. Sometimes someone would glimpse a beautiful woman in red robes playing beneath the tree; anyone who rashly picked a flower or broke a branch would invariably be troubled by her. Popular lore said the woman was the flower spirit, and so everyone carefully protected the plant. It bloomed more luxuriantly and beautifully than ordinary azaleas.

When the flowers were about to open, someone would inspect how far they had bloomed and report it outside. The staff and officials of the military governor came in succession over several days to view them. Later, men and women from the whole city and visitors from various places came with wine and music to enjoy themselves; from spring through summer, from morning to night, the people of nearby streets and lanes could hardly attend to their own occupations.

One day Zhou Bao said to Yin Qiqi: “The flower at Hulin Temple is a rare wonder of the world. I have heard that you can make flowers bloom out of season; can you also hasten this one into bloom?” Yin Qiqi replied, “I can.” Zhou Bao asked again, “The Double Ninth Festival is approaching; can you make it bloom on that day?” Yin Qiqi agreed. Thereupon, three days in advance, he went to Hulin Temple...

Qiqi once stayed overnight at Lin Temple. In the middle of the night, a woman came to him and said, “Does the Daoist wish to make this flower bloom?” Qiqi asked, “Who are you, coming here so late at night?” The woman replied, “I have been ordered by Shangxuan (a high deity of the heavenly realm) to come down and tend this flower. It has been in the human world for more than a hundred years, and soon it will return to Langyuan (the legendary fairyland). Now I will open it together with you. If the Daoist were not here, I would have no way to make it respond.”

With that, the woman suddenly vanished. The next morning, the monks in the temple were astonished to find that the flower was gradually opening its buds. By the ninth day, it was blooming luxuriantly and brilliantly, as if it were spring. After word of this spread, the scholars and common people in Baoyi City all found it marvelous and came in crowds to admire it, as though spring and summer had returned. A few days later, the flower suddenly disappeared, and there were no fallen petals on the ground.

Later, Qiqi happened to visit an official’s house just as the host was holding a banquet for guests. The host and guests hurried to welcome him. Among the singing-and-dancing entertainers who served the wine, two rudely mocked Qiqi. Qiqi then said to the host, “I would like to use two chestnuts to make a drinking game. May I?” Everyone was delighted, thinking he was going to perform a magic trick for entertainment.

Qiqi held the chestnuts and had everyone smell them in turn. All who smelled them found a wondrous fragrance and marveled without end. But when the two wine-serving entertainers who had mocked Qiqi smelled them, the chestnuts unexpectedly turned into stones and stuck to their noses; no matter how they pulled, they could not be removed. They could only say, “This smell is unbearably foul!” The two immediately rose together and danced wildly; the floral hair ornaments (women’s decorations) on their heads fell to the ground, and then they began to weep one after another, while the rouge and powder on their faces streamed down. The entertainers stopped dancing for a moment, but the drums and music started up on their own, and the rhythm was quite well matched. When the tune ended, the dancing still did not stop. Everyone at the banquet laughed until they rocked back and forth.

After a long while, the host apologized to Qiqi. Soon the stones fell from the two men’s noses and turned back into chestnuts. When the chestnuts were passed around for people to smell, they still gave off a wondrous fragrance; the floral ornaments and cosmetics were also restored as before, without the slightest damage. From then on, everyone respected Qiqi.

In addition, Qiqi could turn poured water into wine and whittle wood into dried meat; make people walk backwards and make a stopped boat move on; call birds to follow him; spit to bring dead fish back to life; take a handful of earth and draw the lie of mountains and rivers on the ground; break off thatch and gather ants, transforming them into cities and people. Someone once personally passed through those places and said that the scenes he saw were perfectly distinct, only on a smaller scale. His various magical arts were too many to count.

Two years later, Xue Xuan and Liu Hao rebelled, and Bao fled south to Hangzhou. Bao took overall control of military and political power, and in enforcing the law he sometimes wronged the innocent. Earlier, the governor of Shangrao, Chen Quanyu, had passed through his jurisdiction; Bao fabricated charges against him, and in the end his entire clan was killed. At eighty-three, Bao was still strong and vigorous, with more than a hundred singing-and-dancing women around him; presumably he had obtained Qiqi’s arts. Later, he again, because of the innocent…

After Quan Yu became a vengeful ghost, he suddenly died one day. At the time when mutiny broke out in Liu Hao’s army, someone at Ganlu Temple pushed him down the North Cliff, and everyone thought he had fallen into the river and died. Later, someone saw him in Jiangxi; he stayed there for more than ten years, making a living by selling medicine, and afterward entered the Shu region, where his final whereabouts became unknown. The flowers and trees of Hulin were burned in the flames of war, and the trees lost their roots and stumps; it seemed he had indeed returned to Langyuan (the immortal realm in legend).

Tan Qiao

Tan Qiao, courtesy name Jingsheng, was the son of Tan Zhu, Vice Director of the Imperial Academy (the official in charge of teaching affairs at the Imperial Academy). He was intelligent as a child; when grown, he read widely in the classics and histories, had a strong memory, knew everything he was asked about, and wrote elegant and refined prose. His father Tan Zhu taught him to aim for the jinshi examination, but he did not take this to heart; he was especially fond of Huang-Lao teachings, the various masters and hundred schools, and works such as those on King Mu of Zhou, Emperor Wu of Han, Lord Mao, and the Liexian Neizhuan (Inner Biographies of the Immortals), all of which he studied deeply.

One day he told his father he wanted to travel to the Zhongnan Mountains. His father thought Zhongnan was not far from the capital and agreed. From Zhongnan he traveled through famous mountains such as Taibai, Taihang, Wangwu, Song, Hua, and Tai, and thereafter no longer returned home to visit his parents. His father sent a letter reproaching him, and he replied: “Lord Mao was once another man’s son and also took leave of his father to study immortality. Now I admire him and hope to gain something from studying the Dao. If my parents see that my resolve to seek the Dao is firm, would they still bind me with worldly affairs?”

When his father saw that he was single-mindedly seeking the Dao, he let him go his own way. Tan Qiao became a disciple of a Daoist on Song Mountain and practiced for more than ten years, learning bigu (grain avoidance in cultivation) and the arts of nourishing Qi (vital energy). He took delight in wine and often wandered about drunk, going everywhere. In summer he wore a black leather garment; in winter, a green cloth shirt. Sometimes he lay for days in wind and rain, frost and snow; others thought he was dead, but when they came close, they saw he still had a faint breath.

His father often missed him and each spring and winter sent household servants to look for him and to bring him clothes, money, and silk. Tan Qiao was glad to receive the things; after writing a reply, he immediately sent the servants back. As soon as he had left the servants, he took the clothes his father had sent into the street and gave them to the poor; the money and silk he left in custody at a wine shop, keeping none of it. Someone asked why he did this, and he said: “How can I watch thieves steal and thus bring trouble on others? If I do not wear clothes or eat food, then naturally I will have none of these worries.” He was always cheerful; some said he was crazy.

He often chanted a poem as he walked: “Thread is woven into the Long River; a fan is transformed into heaven; straw sandals are tossed east of the sea. The road to Penglai is said to be not far—it lies right before my staff, Tan Sheng.”

Later he lived at the Southern Sacred Peak (Nanyue) and refined an elixir pill; after taking it, he was not wet when entering water, not harmed when entering fire, and could also conceal his form. He entered Qingcheng Mountain once more, and thereafter departed.

Du Sheng

Du Sheng, courtesy name Keyun, claimed to be from Duling in Jingzhao, and no one knew how many years he had lived. He did not eat food, and often drank three dou of wine at a time without becoming drunk; his complexion was ruddy and lustrous, and he looked like a man in his thirties.

He wore a large square cloth headwrap and a battered hat, and in both winter and summer he wore a green cloth robe. His speech and discussion were full of insight, and he also had considerable literary talent. If people gave him new headcloths or new clothes, he would always accept them, but he stubbornly refused to take off the old ones. After receiving the new garments, he would go out and give them to anyone he met.

He often roamed about the city gates, walking with the air of being tipsy. He was skilled in “sand writing”: he would spread sand in a bowl or basin filled with water and use the sand to write the character for “dragon.” The sand character would float on the surface of the water, turning this way and that; if someone shouted at it, it would fly up more than a zhang, faintly like cloud and mist, and also like a small dragon. When called, it would fall back into the water.

He never took the initiative to ask people for money, yet others would voluntarily give him money. Sometimes he had people pass beneath the eaves, and in a brief moment he could obtain a great deal of money; afterward he would distribute it to the poor and to wine shops. He did this wherever he went, every day, yet people did not grow tired of it and still gave him money. People suspected that he used magical arts to bewitch everyone.

In winter he would lie in the snow for two or three days, and people thought he had frozen to death; when someone brushed aside the snow to look, he would slowly get up, shake off the snow, and go on walking. He still looked as if he had just woken from a drunken sleep, but his breath was like summer.

Du Ruxiu was the son of Du Cong, Duke of Bin, and had once served as governor of Suzhou, a local administrator. When he heard that Keyun was in the city, he was delighted and invited Keyun to the official residence to meet him, addressing him as “Daoweng,” a respectful term for a Daoist. His guests and subordinates all found this strange. Du Ruxiu explained: “When my late father was stationed in Xichuan, he was on close terms with this Daoweng. He often came and went at his study. At that time I was only in my teens, and now I am already over fifty; I have been separated from Daoweng for forty years, yet his appearance and dress are exactly the same as they were then.”

Du Ruxiu kept Keyun at the official residence and asked him about Daoist arts. Keyun said: “It is enough simply to govern affairs well, enable the people to receive instruction, and treat others with compassion. Moreover, in these troubled times one should above all preserve oneself. The time has not yet come to abandon the world and retire to the mountains and forests. Now one should stay far from the calamities of war; how can there even be talk of seeking Daoist arts?”

At that time, the people of the prefecture gave Keyun money and silk. He could not decline, so after leaving the city he distributed the things to others. Du Ruxiu therefore respected him even more. Sometimes Keyun drank together with Du Ruxiu, his guests, and subordinates. When someone at the gathering recited poems and exchanged verses, he would compose poems on the spot; their meaning was profound and often had an immortal quality, and the others could not match or continue them.

Later a military mutiny broke out, and Du Ruxiu was indeed wounded by soldiers and died. Keyun...

The preceding person was attacked and killed by someone, leaving behind only an old robe, chopped into three or four pieces; the marks of the cuts still remained on the ground. Several days later, however, many people saw him pass through Songjiang and Zhejiang, then through Hangzhou, Yuezhou, Quzhou, and Xinzhou, and enter markets in Jiangxi. After getting drunk he chanted poetry and wrote on the sand, everything just as before. Another year later, someone met him in Hunan and asked him about old affairs in Suzhou; he recounted them one by one clearly, then smiled and said that he had once lived at Nanyue and that now it was time for him to leave. On closer investigation, this was the attainment of the way of “yinshen jiehua” (hidden-form transformation and liberation—a cultivation method that uses feigned death to conceal one’s traces and shed the mortal body to become an immortal), which ordinary people cannot know.

Yang Yin

Yang Yin was from Taishan (the Mount Tai region). Because his ancestors for generations had held official rank and stipend, his family lived in Jinyun. He was well versed in the classics and passed the examinations. His first appointment was as county defender of Jiajiang in Xizhou; after leaving office he returned to Jinyun. His elder brother Yang Xin served as magistrate of Le’an County in Taizhou. Yang Yin lived in seclusion in the Kuocang Mountains. His nature was quiet and still, he was indifferent to worldly glory, and his aspiration lay in free and unfettered wandering; he had long admired Daoist arts.

One day his wife suddenly died. He said, “Zhuangzi drummed on a basin and sang after his wife died—he was a man of understanding. Now that she has found peace and ease, is it not fitting to bury her? My sons already have their careers, my daughters already have their homes; from this time on I have no more entanglements.”

Later he visited Ruanlang Pavilion (traditionally the place where Liu Chen and Ruan Zhao entered the Tiantai Mountains and met immortals). On the cliff by the pavilion, more than ten zhang above the ground, large seal-script characters were carved; people said they had been written by Ruan Zhao. He had craftsmen make rubbings to verify them, and only then learned that they had been inscribed by Li Yangbing of the Tang dynasty when he was magistrate of Jinyun and visited this pavilion. The poem said: “Where is the body of the Ruan traveler? / Immortal clouds lie across the cave mouth. / In a place the human world cannot reach, / today I walk within it.”

Yang Yin was beside the pavilion, drinking with several Daoists from Jinyun Abbey while the flowers were in bloom. At noon he suddenly collapsed as if dead, but his breath was still warm, so the people carried him home; only after seven days did he awaken. The local people and the Daoists went together to inquire. Yang Yin said: At first there was a man wearing a blue-green headcloth and a red robe, who called himself Lingying and invited him into a cave dwelling. He saw towers and abbey buildings grand and beautiful, with luan birds and swans lingering among them; the sky was clear and the sunlight warm, unlike the human world. Soon something flew out from a stone cavity, shaped like a conical bamboo hat, blue-green, with a very long stalk. Lingying pointed to it and said, “This is the green lingzhi; if you eat it, you can become an immortal.” Yang Yin was extremely hungry, so he took it, sat on a rock, and ate it; it tasted sweet and delicious, and he finished it in a short while. Lingying said, “You originally have the affinity to become an immortal; only today could you immediately meet the immortal officials.” He then led him to pay respects to the immortal officials. The immortal officials wore Yuanyou crowns and were draped in xiapei (colored shoulder capes worn by immortals); there were three of them, with a great many civil and military attendants. Lingying said something to Yang Yin.

This section recounts how a Daoist cultivator named Yin, after being received by immortal perfected beings (xianzhen), continued his cultivation in the human world.

Yin successively had audiences with Lord Xiaoyou Tianwang (Xiaoyou Tianwang Jun, an immortal official in the Daoist grotto-heavens, dongtian), Huayang Da Mao Jun (the Great Mao Lord of Huayang, that is, Da Mao Zhenjun, one of the patriarchs of Mount Mao), and Yinxuan Tian Zuoming Jun. All these immortal perfected beings said that he had the bone physiognomy of an immortal, but that he could not yet ascend to heaven in broad daylight and should remain in the human world to continue cultivating. Soon afterward, Lingying, sent by the immortals, escorted him out, and he found himself standing at the western gate of Kuocang Cave, a grotto-heaven and blessed land (fudi) in Daoist legend. Only then did Yin realize that what he had just experienced was an encounter with immortal affinity.

After this, he no longer liked to eat the five grains; he drank only three sheng of water and ate one small cup of lily bulbs each day. His body was light, and his joints would move by themselves and make sounds, like bamboo strips striking one another or like the clapping of clappers. He also often talked and chanted, as if conversing with someone, without stopping day or night. Sometimes two or three hundred sheets of paper were brought, and in a moment he would fill them with writing, but others could not recognize the characters. When Yin himself read them, however, they were all complete compositions. Fellow cultivators who delighted in such matters recorded what he dictated and found that the phrases were indeed pure, elegant, and beautiful, mostly evoking imagery of places such as Yingzhou and Langyuan, the legendary immortal islands in the sea and celestial gardens in heaven where immortals dwell.

A year passed, and he was lean yet light and vigorous. Those who did not believe said he had been bewitched by a demonic being. By the second year, he gradually became fair and plump; he no longer cared for lily bulbs and drank only water and wine. By the third year, his sideburns and hair were black as lacquer, his complexion was like a child’s, and his walk was so light that he seemed about to fly. He could drink three dou of wine without becoming drunk and wore coarse cloth garments. Later he traveled south and entered Weiyu Mountain, one of the ten great grotto-heavens of Daoism, and the people of the world never saw him again.