《上陽子金丹大要》Vol. 12

In a letter to Zongyangzi Ming Suchan, Chen Zhixu (a renowned Daoist alchemist known as Shangyangzi of the Purple Empyrean and Crimson Palace) wrote:

There are those today who comprehend past and present, compose eloquent writings, and reach the pinnacle of scholarly achievement. Yet they often become complacent—a sign of talent overshadowing virtue (De). Others penetrate profound mysteries, investigate cosmic transformations, refine essence (Jing) to transform their physical forms—attaining the highest realms of Daoist cultivation—yet frequently grow arrogant in the process.

I once encountered an adept named Ming Suchan at Jiugong Mountain. Taking monastic vows at twenty, his natural brilliance coupled with diligent study made him exceptional by thirty. Well-read and skilled in textual analysis, his writings possessed a majestic vigor that charmed readers, though his pride and sharp edges left him few true companions. Later turning to immortal cultivation, he engaged with visiting practitioners from all traditions, exchanging insights unreservedly until exhausting their teachings. After interacting with dozens, he believed he had fully mastered the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path.

Upon examining his methods closely, I found his so-called cultivation practices problematic: some involved circulating internal spirit-energy (Shen-Qi), yet were approximations; others refined lead-mercury (alchemical terms for vital essences) in the Dantian (energy center), but with inconsistent techniques. Worse still were practices ranging from sexual alchemy to external elixir (Waidan) smelting, from rigid meditation to empty metaphysical discourse. Now relaxing his practice, he presumptuously considers the Golden Elixir path merely this. Though he recites alchemical scriptures (Danjing) fluently and cites sources persuasively, his condescending attitude toward fellow practitioners betrays his delusion of nearing supreme attainment.

At our first meeting, he quizzed me on Golden Elixir matters. Observing his intellectual arrogance—outwardly respectful yet inwardly distant, unable to properly seek guidance—I adapted to his temperament, offering praise, commendation, and kindness. My approach aimed to gradually transform him, for his stubborn attachment to biased views and heterodox teachings would reject direct transmission of ultimate truths. Alas! Such self-important cultivators today all believe they possess extraordinary...

Those who consider themselves learned yet cling stubbornly to their own views often fail to comprehend the true essence of the Dao. Some feel ashamed to learn from others, while others presume upon their own cleverness—how much more so for those with even shallower understanding? I observed that Bai Ming Suchan (a Daoist practitioner) possessed extraordinary natural talent and remarkable insight, making him worthy to receive transmission of the great Dao. However, he was ordinarily too arrogant and unrestrained, deeply mired in old habits. First, it was necessary to dissolve his pride, rein in his indulgent temperament, dispel his doubts, correct his deviant thoughts, and awaken his Dao-mind. Upon hearing these words, Bai Ming Suchan experienced sudden enlightenment and underwent complete transformation—only then could he truly begin cultivation with both feet firmly planted. Thereupon, I transmitted to him the method of refining primordial Qi and Shen (spirit).

The so-called "primordial Qi of the before-heaven state" is the fundamental energy in Golden Elixir (Jindan) cultivation. Know that human Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit) all originate from the primordial Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) state existing before one's parents conceived them. Human form takes shape within this mysterious, undifferentiated primordial state where Yin-Yang exists in perfect harmony. Thus at birth—if male—all spirits respectfully welcome the newborn, while if female, all spirits receive the child with gentle compliance. By nature, men should embody the virtues of gentleness, goodness, reverence, and restraint, while women should maintain softness and obedience. When men display strength and integrity without reverence, or when women cultivate appearance and speech without gentleness, both violate their heavenly nature.

This harmonious Qi originally received grows daily until reaching its zenith of Yang energy at sixteen years of age. Those born with understanding of principle can at this stage practice the supreme De (virtue) of Wuwei (non-action). Sadly, worldly people become inverted in deluded thinking, causing their pristine nature to dissipate, making purity difficult to maintain. The original Qian-metal (primordial Yang energy) they received flees westward (symbolizing postnatal dissipation) like a fierce tiger. From then on, people chase fame and profit, calculating gains and losses, growing old without ever learning to withdraw and preserve themselves—truly lamentable.

To preserve the Three Treasures of Jing, Qi, and Shen, one must rely on the primordial Taiji Qi. Thus it is said there is only this single path to the great Dao of heaven and earth. This primordial Taiji Qi is called "true lead" (primordial essence) or "Qian-metal," dwelling hidden within Kan-water (kidney essence) like a mother carrying a fetus. Worldly people fail to understand this fundamental principle, instead resorting to methods like "gathering Yin to supplement Yang," "returning essence to nourish the brain," or "flying gold behind the elbow" (sexual alchemy and other heterodox practices)—truly abandoning the root to chase the branches.

The practitioner must understand the mystery of life's formation to discover the true medicine for refining the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the core concept of Daoist Neidan). Just as the source of a river must be sought from the positions of Kan (north) and Qian (northwest), the true Dragon and Tiger (symbolizing the Yin and Yang energies within the body) are ultimately found at the central point where the three directions of southwest, due east, and southeast converge.

Genuine union of Yin and Yang occurs only when the Water of Gui (representing kidney essence, Jing) is abundant, and the mutual nourishment of water and fire begins only when Yin and Yang are perfectly balanced (the "two eights" proportion). Comprehending the Mysterious Feminine (Xuanpin, the pivotal point where Yin and Yang intersect) is the true path of returning the elixir, and discerning the "knife and spoon" (a minute measure of medicinal substances) signifies understanding genuine medicine.

When the Tortoise and Snake (symbolizing heart and kidney energies) coil and unite, it resembles magpies forming a bridge in the heavens; when Wood and Metal (liver and lung energies) stand apart, it mirrors the celestial lovers Cowherd and Weaver Girl meeting on earth. Host and guest (Shen and Qi) must yield to one another, and the firing process (huohou) must be precisely controlled, neither overdone nor underdone. Every moment demands utmost care—when the moon disc reveals its luminous pearl (a Neidan vision), it must be steadily gathered into the Dantian; once the Golden Fluid (refined essence) reaches the Dantian, it requires gentle nurturing.

In practice, humility and deference are essential. Yield to others in all matters, appearing outwardly simple and unassuming—this is the true demeanor of a Daoist cultivator. Refusing to compete for superiority is the supreme strategy for attaining immortality. Only then will auspicious signs appear during elixir refinement, as a spark of true Yang descends into the Yellow Court (middle Dantian), making the cultivation of fire effortless. When the ninefold-transmuted Golden Elixir (the highest achievement in Neidan) nears completion, purify the heart and cleanse all thoughts. After three hundred days of nurturing the embryo (the internal elixir formation stage), refine the Shen to return to emptiness (Lian Shen Huan Xu), accomplishing the great work of a realized being.

Ming Suchan (the author's pseudonym) recounts: At first, these teachings astonished me; upon hearing them again, doubt arose, and I pondered through sleepless nights until drenched in sweat. Then one day, sudden clarity dawned—I realized that nature and life (Xingming) are none other than the interplay of Yin and Yang energies, and that body and mind overflow with divine Qi (Shenqi). The state of pristine purity is itself perfect fulfillment, like swallowing a skyful of snowflakes in one gulp or draining the Western River in a single breath. Only then did I grasp that the true Dao lies not in the written words of alchemical scriptures. After decades of arduous practice, the realization struck: no deliberate striving was ever needed.

Just as a hen alone cannot produce an egg, cultivation requires the harmonious union of Yin and Yang. When asked about the meaning of "Ming Suchan," the reply came: it pays homage to Bai Yuchan (the renowned Southern Song dynasty Daoist)—"Ming" (bright) signifies "Bai" (white), and "Su" (plain) represents "Yu" (jade), hence "Ming Suchan."

Shangyangzi (another pseudonym of the author) remarks: Truly, your heart seeks immortality with sincerity! To revere sages and pursue the Dao, even adopting a name in tribute—this is utmost devotion. Know this: clarity (Ming) is the mind's luminous unobstructedness; purity (Su) is diligent cultivation upon hearing the Dao; while the toad (Chan), celestial creature of the moon, embodies the Yang within Yin, the white within black (symbolizing the transformative principle of Yin-Yang in alchemy).

This scripture elucidates the essential principles of cultivating the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) and the proper mindset for practitioners. The "toad" mentioned symbolizes the cauldron vessel (the practitioner's physical body used in cultivation), while the three-legged toad imagery metaphorically represents the "suspended womb cauldron" (Xuantaiding), an allegory for Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. Master Ziqing (referring to Bai Yuchan, the renowned Southern Song dynasty Daoist) endured worldly ridicule and insults while maintaining pure concentration—exemplifying the attitude all cultivators should embody.

The author critiques those who harbor delusions of immortality while being consumed by arrogance, emphasizing that genuine cultivation requires three essential qualities: first, a refined and elegant heart-mind; second, humility and non-contention; third, the capacity to endure mockery. The text cites the lineage of Master Danyang (Ma Yu, one of the Quanzhen Seven Masters) to illustrate the solemnity of Daoist transmission.

Later passages describe the arduousness of cultivation—even an accomplished master like Bai Yuchan lamented that "all sixty-four years were mistaken," attaining true realization only in his later years. The author, Ming Suchan, recounts his personal journey: initially believing anyone could become an immortal like Zhongli Quan or Lü Dongbin, he later discovered the profound subtlety of Daoist practice, finding scarcely anyone in the world truly capable of bearing its weight.

The text ultimately emphasizes that the crux of cultivation lies in subduing the "White Tiger" (symbolizing yin energy within the body) and the "Azure Dragon" (representing yang energy)—the most mysterious and inconceivable practice requiring utmost focus and reverence, never to be approached with arrogance or carelessness. The author states these words were written in hopes of encountering destined practitioners for mutual verification.

The ancient Daoist masters taught: "The physical form is preserved through the Dao, while life and nature are sustained through techniques." Zhuangzi (the "Master Zhuang" refers to the Zhuangzi text) states: "Fish forget each other in rivers and lakes; humans forget each other in the Dao and its techniques." This illustrates how Dao and technique are inseparable. Techniques must be rooted in the Dao, while the Dao manifests through techniques. Understand that the Dao mentioned here is not ordinary principles, but the Great Dao that leads to celestial immortality; the techniques referred to are not common methods, but secret arts for attaining longevity.

The eminent Neidan (internal alchemy) master Shangyangzi (of the Yuan Dynasty) once transmitted the true essence of cultivation to Xuanyangzi (the Mount Lu Daoist Ouyang Yuyuan). Shangyangzi said: "This Dao is profoundly subtle. The Yijing (Book of Changes) states: 'Because it is profound, it can penetrate all minds under heaven; because it is subtle, it can accomplish all affairs under heaven.' To fathom its profundity is like diving into bottomless depths; to investigate its subtlety is like gazing at the vast heavens. The vast heavens represent the ultimate Yang, while the bottomless depths signify the ultimate Yin. When Yin reaches its extreme, it forms the Kan trigram (☵); when Yang reaches its peak, it forms the Li trigram (☲). Within Kan resides a spark of true Yang Qi, while Li contains a drop of true Yin Jing (essence)."

The Great Dao of celestial immortality lies in comprehending the mysteries of Kan and Li; the secret art of longevity cultivation centers on applying their Yin-Yang transformations. Confucius said: "Apply this technique with care, and you will be free from error." What is this technique? It is the method of inverting Kan and Li for cultivation. Ancient immortals taught: "When the Five Phases are inverted, the earth transforms into seven treasures; when the Five Phases follow their natural course, the dharma realm becomes a pit of fire."

The concrete method involves harmonizing the golden essence (true Yang) from the Kan trigram (associated with water) with the true fire from the Li trigram (associated with fire). Extract the golden essence from Kan to descend to Li's position, then refine it with Li's true fire—this is the secret technique of inverting Yin-Yang. However, the crux of applying inversion lies in grasping the subtle moment of Yin-Yang transformation. The term "ji" refers to these unpredictable shifts. When the changes become so mysterious that neither spirits nor the sun and moon can perceive them, we must align our practice with the Dao's correspondence to celestial movements.

The method of alignment is this: When the moon appears in the Geng position (west), where metal Qi is strong and water imagery clear, one may gather the golden essence (referring to capturing the primordial Qi) on the third day of the lunar month. This embodies the Yijing's teaching to "harmonize with the brightness of sun and moon." The key to alignment is this: When external Geng metal (western metal Qi) first emerges, respond with internal true fire—this is what alchemy calls "fire timing" (huohou). Geng represents the west, metal's proper direction. The essence of inversion technique lies in gathering heaven and earth's golden essence Qi at specific celestial hours.

This scripture elucidates the transmission and essential teachings of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path. It reveals how the yang energy within the Water trigram (Kan) can nourish the yin energy of the Fire trigram (Li) – the crucial mechanism for attaining celestial immortality. The term "subtlety" (ji) refers to the imperceptible signs preceding transformation; those who discern these subtle movements master the art of longevity. This "subtlety" implies secrecy, requiring diligent cultivation through hidden practice.

The text recounts how the adept Xuanyangzi deeply contemplated these subtle principles through assiduous secret cultivation, ultimately ascending from longevity practices to celestial immortality. The Golden Elixir tradition passed through thirty-four generations to Shuangyu Weng, then three more generations before reaching the author. Initially receiving transmission from Master Yuandu Zhao, the author harbored lingering doubts until encountering a lofty master during travels who imparted the secret heart-methods of Qingcheng lineage (a major Daoist school). From then on, the author practiced day and night without respite.

Lamenting that since Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji), no genuine immortals had appeared for over a century – leading many to doubt the Golden Elixir's existence – the author composed the ten-volume Essentials of the Golden Elixir to preserve the tradition. Concerned that readers might struggle without proper guidance, the author traveled extensively seeking destined disciples, patiently instructing worthy candidates while enduring insults without complaint. Even if only one or two attained understanding amidst thousands of slanders, it sufficed. The author tailored instruction to each student's capacity, gradually guiding them from foundational practice to profound realization.

The text mentions two exemplary practitioners at Mount Lu – Ouyang Yutian and Zhou Caochuang – both embodying noble virtue. Such painstaking effort stems from the author's vow to maintain the Dao's transmission in the world, rescuing deluded beings from worldly suffering and proving the Golden Elixir's authentic reality.

This passage recounts the spiritual journeys of two practitioners, Yutian and Caochuang, and the essential teachings on the Golden Elixir (Jindan) transmitted by Master Shangyang (the author).

Yutian possessed a serene and detached nature, navigating life with harmonious flexibility while yearning for transcendence beyond worldly entanglements. He maintained his independence in solitude yet blended seamlessly without losing himself in company. However, lacking proper guidance, his practice remained stagnant in solitary meditation. Caochuang, gifted with keen intelligence from youth, immersed himself in the Cheng-Zhu school of Neo-Confucianism, grounding himself in upright virtue, filial piety, loyalty, and trustworthiness—qualities befitting a noble scholar. His attire defied convention, and though skilled in imperial examination essays, his aspirations reached beyond such pursuits.

The two met by the Pen River, where their profound discussions revealed the limitations of Cheng-Zhu philosophy in exploring the nature of principle (xingli). Upon hearing Master Shangyang expound the Dao, they experienced sudden awakening to its depths despite widespread skepticism. Considering their foundational backgrounds, Master Shangyang guided them step by step: first citing cautionary verses from alchemical scriptures to inspire reflection, then analyzing orthodox principles to fortify their faith and wisdom, before finally transmitting the Golden Elixir’s supreme path.

The so-called Golden Elixir is none other than what Laozi termed "observing the wondrous and observing the subtle." The "wondrous" (miao) refers to Wuwei (non-action)—acting effortlessly yet accomplishing all things; the "subtle" (jiao) denotes purposeful action—exerting effort where needed. Wuwei is the natural, spontaneous cultivation, while purposeful action involves deliberate practice. Humans inherently possess a pure and tranquil nature, yet post-birth desires fragment this primordial wholeness. Master Shangyang thus named Yutian "Fuyangzi" (Returning Yang) and Caochuang "Quanyangzi" (Complete Yang), symbolizing the restoration of their original essence through cultivation.

Countless methods in the world fail to fully restore one’s innate nature—only the Golden Elixir achieves this. "Returning Yang" means guiding the true Yang-Qi back to its rightful place; "Complete Yang" purifies this Qi to absolute clarity. Just as taming the White Tiger (symbolizing primordial Qi) and bringing it home signifies Returning Yang, refining the luminous pearl (the Golden Elixir) to full-moon perfection embodies Complete Yang. Returning Yang requires precise modulation of firing times (huohou), while Completing Yang demands a transformative rebirth. Though the Golden Elixir’s path is profound, its core principles distill into three key points (the text leaves this partially unexplored).

This scripture passage elucidates the essential elements of Daoist cultivation and the vital importance of master-disciple transmission.

There are three core principles in Daoist practice: first is single-minded concentration, second is diligent and steadfast cultivation, and third is using stillness to subdue restless movements. After the master fully transmits the oral instructions and heart methods, the disciple's progress depends entirely on their own dedicated effort. The text cites two examples: when Patriarch Zhengyang (Zhongli Quan) tested Lü Dongbin, he established ten layers of trials, and when Wang Chongyang enlightened Ma Danyang, he employed the metaphor of dividing pears ten times. Since the ancient sages transmitted the Dao with such prudence, though contemporary disciples may not undergo such rigorous testing, the sacred oaths they take remain profoundly significant and must be faithfully upheld.

Achieving three virtues leads to the Golden Elixir (Jindan, the highest attainment in Neidan practice): above, one must prove worthy before the divine; in the middle, one must not betray the master's trust; below, one must remain blameless before fellow practitioners. Upon attaining the Golden Elixir, the Sacred Embryo (a state of concentrated spirit) forms, and when this embryo reaches perfection, the realm of authentic personhood manifests, achieving the transcendent state of "a body beyond the body." The immortal Dao has been transmitted through thirty-eight generations, and now passes to two disciples who should encourage each other in mutual cultivation.

The second part recounts the author's encounter with Yu Guangu ("Contemplating Antiquity") of Xinyang. Ordinary people often consider wealth and poverty, honor and lowliness as fated, while longevity, premature death, hardship and prosperity are seen as determined by Qi cycles. But genuine Dao practitioners transcend these worldly limitations. The author and Yu Guangu became immediate friends through profound conversation, discovering they shared not only identical birthdates (year, month and day) but also common origins in Jiangxi (Luling and Wuning). Both bore names containing "guan" (contemplation - Guanwu and Guangu), and even resided in similar places (Jiugong Mountain and Sanshan). This remarkable synchronicity made them feel profound kinship, recognizing it as a manifestation of Daoist affinity aligning their paths.

Though we dwell together, jointly studying the discourses of Laozi and Zhuangzi (the founders of Daoism), as well as the Zhouyi (Book of Changes) of the Duke of Zhou and Confucius, all wearing Jin-style caps and equally venerating the sagely ways of Yao and Shun, I often lament how ancient scholars tended toward stubborn partiality and mutual exclusion. Yet the two of us can embrace both—not only do we pursue similar paths, but our fundamental principles align. Upon closer examination, however, subtle differences remain within our similarities: you take "Observing the Self" as your sobriquet, emphasizing inner cultivation, while Shunshen adopts "Observing Antiquity," excelling at drawing wisdom from the ancients.

A true "Observer of Antiquity," when examining the ancients through the standards of Dao, De (Virtue), benevolence, and righteousness, grasps their spiritual essence; when studying them through ritual and music, masters their practical methods. By aspiring to Yao's realm, one becomes Yao; by following Shun's path, one becomes Shun—this is the excellence of "Observing Antiquity." In contrast, I have a clear limitation compared to this approach—I am engrossed in the arts of the Golden Elixir (Waidan, external alchemy), constantly contemplating the interplay of Kan and Li (the Water and Fire trigrams from the Zhouyi, representing yin-yang interaction in alchemy), simulating the dragon-tiger copulation (a Neidan term for yin-yang harmonization), attempting to gather the qi (vital energy) of western Metal and Water, and extracting true yang from black lead (alchemical terminology for refining essential energies from heavy metals). Like a cicada shedding its skin to undergo metamorphosis or pursuing feathered ascension to immortality—since I cannot match Shunshen's mastery of past and present, I spend my days delving into these profound and elusive cultivation methods, ever fearful of inadequate practice. This is what I mean by "greatly falling short."

Just as pine, cypress, cassia, and juniper growing on the same hillside, planted at the same time and place, may grow crooked and wither early or stand tall and reach the heavens—can this be the Creator's bias? How much greater, then, are the disparities in human circumstances. Yet though "Observing Antiquity" and "Observing the Self" differ, our fundamental commonality lies in transcending fate's constraints: we neither seek the glory of official robes and jade belts nor covet vast wealth, eating only to satiate hunger and clothing merely to ward off cold. Through cultivation, we purify spiritual impurities, wandering carefree in boundless realms, surpassing limitations of lifespan, circumstance, poverty, or wealth. Compared to those scrambling for land, houses, fame, and profit, we are as noble as Xu You washing his ears (allusion: the recluse Xu You washed his ears after Yao's offer of the throne, considering it defilement) or Chao Fu leading his calf to drink (allusion: the hermit Chao Fu feared his ox would be tainted by drinking from the stream where Xu You washed). On the eighth day of the sixth month in the Yihai year, we gathered with pork and goose at my dwelling to discourse on the Dao.

This passage records the dialogue between Shangyangzi and Guan Guxin regarding the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Jindan). Guan Guxin initially showed keen interest in Daoist cultivation, but Shangyangzi discerned that his mind remained entangled with utilitarian calculations and desires.

Shangyangzi clearly pointed out: To cultivate the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (the highest realm of Daoist Neidan/internal alchemy), one must first accumulate virtue (De). Just as Yin and Yang cannot be separated, virtue and cultivation are mutually dependent. For someone obsessed with profit-seeking and indulging desires while vainly seeking the Great Dao (Dao), it would be as absurd as expecting a tree to stand firm without roots.

Upon hearing this, Guan Guxin experienced sudden enlightenment and repented his deluded thoughts. Only then did Shangyangzi impart the true essentials of cultivation: The refinement of the Golden Elixir is a process combining "active practice" (youzuo) and "non-action" (Wuwei). Specifically:

The external "lead" (primordial Qi) must merge with the internal "mercury" (postnatal Jing/essence). Gathering the primordial lead-Qi requires working at the Kan position (the water trigram corresponding to the kidneys) - this constitutes the "active practice." Harmonizing the postnatal mercury-Jing occurs at the Li position (the fire trigram corresponding to the heart) - this represents the state of "non-action." The entire process resembles lunar phases, requiring "one period" (three days) for initial coagulation and "ten months" (nine cycles) for prolonged refinement.

After comprehending these teachings, Guan Guxin attained complete awakening, realizing that true gold (the Golden Elixir) had always resided within his heart. He consequently changed his name to "Xinyangzi" (Heart-Yang Master). This dialogue reveals a profound truth: There is only one universal truth, and the hearts of sages are interconnected - the key lies in relinquishing doubts and practicing with sincere devotion.