《太上感應篇》Vol. 6

This passage recounts several stories of individuals who transformed their destinies through accumulating virtue (De). It first mentions Zhang Zhongbin's grandfather, originally a merchant who resolved to reform his ways and devote himself to educating his descendants. As a result, his sons Zhongrong and Zhongbin both passed the imperial examinations, followed by Zhong'an the following year. Similarly, a petty merchant named Ling Yi mended his ways and prioritized education—his second son Zhang Jie and nephew Zhang Xiao both achieved the highest honors in the exams.

The text then details the story of Dou Yajun (of Yanshan). He dreamed of his grandfather warning him: "Your fate decrees no sons and an early death—why not cultivate hidden virtue (Yinde) to alter your destiny?" From then on, Dou Yajun accumulated merit by helping impoverished families with funerals and dowries, burning promissory notes to cancel debts, and returning lost valuables to their owners. He also built a forty-room academy housing ten thousand volumes, employing renowned scholars to educate countless students. Ultimately, he rose to the high-ranking position of Left Reminder, passed away peacefully at eighty, and attained the Daoist immortal rank of Cavern-Heaven Perfected (Dongtian Zhenren). His five sons all passed the imperial exams, serving as Ministers and Vice-Ministers of Rites among other prestigious posts.

The passage concludes with a verse summarizing its moral: "Those who pursue benevolence attain benevolence" (quoting the legend of Boyi and Shuqi), while greed leads to the fate of the infamous robber Zhi. Heaven's Dao (Tiandao) dispenses retribution according to good and evil—these distinctions ultimately become clear, and through cultivation, one may even achieve the Daoist immortal path.

An intriguing detail mentions Zhang Yang encountering a brilliantly colored "wall fish" (bookworm) while reading the Daoist Canon (Daozang), hinting at miraculous signs that appear during spiritual practice. Through these concrete examples, the text illustrates the principle that "what one sows, one shall reap": sincere commitment to goodness and diligent cultivation can fulfill aspirations—whether for scholarly honors, descendants, longevity, or even immortal transcendence.

This passage tells a wondrous story about a “wall fish,” a book-boring insect. He Feng bought a volume of Daoist scriptures and found something inside like a strand of hair. Curled up, it was four inches long, with its ends joined so that it had no beginning or end. When cut, both ends dripped water—enough to fill more than a pint. No one knew what it was.

Later, he met an accomplished Daoist who told him: “This is a ‘pulse-gazer,’ transformed after a wall fish bored through the characters for ‘immortal’ in the scriptures three times. Hold it up toward the stars at night, and it can make the stars send down an elixir of immortality. Drink the water it drips, and you will be reborn in body and spirit.” He Feng went back and examined the volume. Sure enough, every place where the words “immortal” appeared had been eaten away.

The author reflects: If even an insect can gain spiritual power by feeding on the characters for “immortal,” how much more can a human being? In truth, humans and immortals share the same nature. People lose their original authenticity only because worldly desires cloud them. Cast off those desires and return to one’s true nature, and anyone can become an immortal.

The passage then gives examples from history of ordinary people who cultivated themselves and became immortals. Zhang Liang, also known as Zifang, relied on loyalty; Wu Meng on filial devotion; Wang Jinxian upheld the virtues of a wife; Lan Qiyou loved his brothers; Liu Yi put others before himself; Zhao Sutai aided the poor; Xu Zhenjun drew talismans and dispensed water; Yan Pingjun guided people toward goodness; Zhou Bo buried the remains of unknown dead; Li Wulang dealt fairly in business; Chen Anshi refrained from killing living beings; Li Xizi rescued people from famine; Yang Jingzhi cultivated stillness and nurtured the spirit; and Tang Ruoshan was free of anger, among others.

More striking still, some who became immortals came from humble backgrounds. Huang Wanyou had committed few wrongs; Jing Xiang enjoyed setting animals free; Liu Ping’a had been a physician; Wu Mu a minor clerk; Liu Yan a courtesan; Bao Liang a shopkeeper; He Sheng a butcher; Ding Yue a soldier; Zhu Tun a bandit; and Li Zhengxuan a hunter. These examples show that regardless of one’s social standing, anyone can become an immortal by accumulating De and doing good.

Finally, the passage mentions people of the author’s own time who became immortals: Chao Gongjiong became the Celestial Lord of Tranquil Abode, Zhang Gongwenqi became the Perfected Lord of Fate, and Wang Gongsu became an attendant in the royal capital. These examples show that cultivating the Dao and becoming an immortal are not mere fictions.

This scripture recounts examples of ordinary people attaining celestial status through accumulating virtue and performing good deeds. The text lists several historical figures who became immortals after death: Lü Hui serves as the Celestial Emperor’s inspector, Han Qi governs the Purple Mansion (a Daoist celestial realm), Fu Bi oversees the Kun Platform, Wang Sou manages the Iron Wheel of the Holy Assistant, Jin San acts as the Wind Master of the Holy Protector, Zhang Xiaoji becomes the mountain deity of Songshan, Dou Yujun is enfeoffed as a Perfected Being of the Grotto-Heaven, Ouyang Xiu presides over the Divine Clarity Palace, Wang Anshi administers the Lingzhi Garden, Lü Zhen commands the Jade Mountain, Shi Yannian governs Hibiscus City, Chen Jing serves as the Judge of Rectitude, and Tian Chengjun rules Weiyang. These are all instances of mortals cultivating themselves into immortals.

According to Daoist scriptures, the Left Cavern-Sun Palace of the Middle Primordial Second Grade (a celestial institution in Daoism) oversees the Nine Sovereigns and the Eight Directions of the human realm. Its subordinate celestial officials number 99,999, all of whom were individuals who accumulated merit during their lifetimes and attained their positions through cultivation and transcendence. For example, He Xizhi from my hometown, due to his virtuous completion of annotating the Diamond Sutra, was appointed after death as the Inspector of Chronology at the Western Peak (Mount Hua). Though this is merely a position within the mountain deity hierarchy, it was still attained through cultivation. Who can claim that immortality is beyond reach?

Yet there are also those who aspire to immortality but never achieve it—not because immortality is unattainable, but because their cultivation is insufficient to reach the Dao. As the two Perfected Beings (Zhongli Quan and Lü Dongbin) said: Zhongli Quan remarked, "Immortals seek those worthy of salvation more urgently than mortals seek immortality." Lü Dongbin observed, "People often lament not seeing me, but even if they saw me daily, what use would it be if they did not follow my teachings?" These words lament the difficulty people have in truly pursuing the Dao.

The concluding eulogy observes: People often dismiss the concept of immortals as illusory and unverifiable, akin to Emperor Wu of Han and Qin Shi Huang’s pursuit of immortality, or Buddhism’s claims of heaven and hell. If heaven truly exists, it must be the abode of the loyal and virtuous; if hell exists, it surely awaits the wicked.

The scripture ultimately clarifies the essential method of cultivation: To become a Celestial Immortal (a high-ranking immortal), one must accumulate 1,300 good deeds; to become an Earthly Immortal (a localized immortal), one must complete 300 good deeds. The difference between Celestial and Earthly Immortals lies in the quantity of virtuous acts. Those who have already attained the Dao must continue refining themselves to avoid regression; those who have not yet attained it should focus on cultivation rather than seeking external solutions.

This scripture primarily discusses Daoist classifications of immortals (xian) and their cultivation paths. It first mentions a classification system influenced by Buddhism that divides immortals into ten types:

Earth-walking immortals (cultivating through elixir ingestion), flying immortals (cultivating through herbal medicines), wandering immortals (cultivating through metallurgical alchemy), sky-walking immortals (cultivating through breath regulation and Qi refinement), heaven-walking immortals (cultivating through Jing-essence and Qi refinement), traversing immortals (cultivating through balancing Yin-Yang energies), Dao-walking immortals (cultivating through talismans and incantations), illuminating immortals (cultivating through meditation and visualization), essence immortals (cultivating through spiritual resonance), and transcendent immortals (cultivating through miraculous transformations). However, all these are considered deviant paths clinging to delusions—while they may achieve longevity, practitioners remain trapped in the cycle of rebirth.

Then Zhongli Quan (one of the Eight Immortals) presents a more orthodox five-tier classification: ghost immortals (cultivating only the Yin-spirit without realizing the Dao), human immortals (extending lifespan without attaining the Dao), earth immortals (achieving earthly longevity while remaining in the human realm), spirit immortals (transcending physical form with transformative freedom), and celestial immortals (merging with the Dao to share heaven's longevity). He emphasizes that true cultivation fundamentally involves investigating cosmic principles, perfecting one's innate nature, and ultimately achieving the dual cultivation of nature and life (xingming shuangxiu) to unite with the Dao. Authentic immortality isn't about pursuing supernatural powers, but preserving life's essence through exhaustive inquiry into principles and complete realization of nature, thereby attaining cosmic longevity.

Regarding cultivation methods, the text specifically points out the limitations of ghost immortals—though they may develop Yin-spirits through deep meditation, they remain merely "ethereal ghosts." Human immortals stagnate at lifespan extension. This implies true practice should aim for higher stages: earth immortals, spirit immortals, and ultimately celestial immortals.

This passage elucidates the five stages of Daoist cultivation and the methods to attain different levels of spiritual attainment.

The text begins by describing how some individuals, though exposed to the Great Dao (Da Dao), remain hindered by heavy karmic obstacles and shallow spiritual roots—either obstructed by demonic influences or clinging to rigid views. Some rigidly adhere to dietary prohibitions against the five flavors (sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty) yet fail to harmonize with the six climatic qi (wind, cold, summer heat, dampness, dryness, fire). Others forcibly suppress the seven emotions (joy, anger, worry, contemplation, sorrow, fear, shock) while unable to uphold even the ten basic precepts. Various cultivation methods often disparage one another: those practicing saliva swallowing mock breath regulation techniques; advocates of sexual energy cultivation dismiss quietist practices as foolish; those absorbing cosmic qi through external objects disdain fasting methods; and practitioners visualizing solar-lunar essences refuse to perform daoyin (guiding and stretching) exercises. These all represent one-sided attachments.

The text then details the five grades of immortal cultivation:

The first grade, "Human Immortal," merely extends lifespan and enjoys earthly pleasures. They emulate the ascending-descending rhythms of heaven and earth, align with solar-lunar cycles, apply temporal rhythms (year, month, day, hour) to bodily cultivation, discern the dragon-tiger (Yin-Yang) dynamic, balance kan-li (water-fire) energies, distinguish pure from turbid qi, and master the timing of internal firing processes.

The second grade, "Earth Immortal," achieves greater refinement by coalescing the Golden Elixir (Jindan) within—refining essence (Jing), qi, and spirit (Shen) into an immortal pill that permanently resides in the lower Dantian (three inches below the navel), attaining longevity beyond death. They master Yin-Yang and the Eight Trigrams (Bagua), circulate the Five Phases (Wuxing) internally, create mother-child qi generation cycles, facilitate conjugal union of vital fluids, and establish circulation among the three Dantian (upper, middle, and lower energy centers).

The third grade, "Spirit Immortal," transcends earthly bounds, leaving the mundane world to return to sacred mountains like Penglai.

The fourth grade involves continuous worldly beneficence; after perfecting merit, these immortals assume celestial offices in blessed grotto-heavens.

The fifth grade, "Celestial Immortal," is reserved for those with supreme merit toward heaven and earth. They progressively ascend through thirty-six grotto-heavens and eighty-one yang heavens, ultimately reaching the supreme realm of absolute emptiness and natural spontaneity.

The passage concludes by noting that what Śākyamuni called "perfect enlightenment" and Zhongli Quan termed the "Great Dao" ultimately refer to the same truth. The key lies in realizing one's original mind, unbound by passions and conceptual attachments. As Master Sengna taught: "To recognize the original mind, observe it constantly in daily life—amidst sensory experiences, before thoughts arise, discern where the mind abides." This constitutes the genuine essence of cultivation.

This passage discusses the state of attaining the Dao through cultivation, as well as principles for conducting oneself in the world.

It first describes a supreme state of transcending both existence and nonexistence, and realizing one’s original nature. When a practitioner clings neither to “existence” nor to “nonexistence,” the mind becomes clear and bright like a luminous pearl. It can illuminate all things in the world without being disturbed by worldly concerns, without even the slightest momentary break. This is true awakening: the Great Dao.

The passage then gives Lü Dongbin (Perfected Lü) and Sun Simiao (Perfected Sun) as examples of perfected beings who attained the Dao. Lü Dongbin attained the Dao not only without studying alchemy, but also through a sudden awakening to the Buddhist teaching, “Let the mind arise without abiding anywhere.” Sun Simiao attained the Dao not only through his mastery of medical texts and prescriptions, but also by seeking instruction from the eminent Tang dynasty monk Xuanlü and listening to an unnamed monk explain Buddhist scriptures in Chengdu. These examples show that those who cultivate the Dao must continue to make progress, just as one standing atop a hundred-foot pole must still advance another step.

The passage then stresses the importance of doing good and accumulating De. Doing good is simply what one ought to do, even without seeking to become an immortal. The encomium says that only by observing the many rules of etiquette—the three hundred rites and three thousand forms of proper conduct—can one fulfill the human way. Merits and good deeds must be accumulated in proper order, with every precept followed strictly and without the slightest deviation. This is the immortal way, by which the human way accords with the Way of Heaven.

Finally, the passage cites Mencius to explain the harm caused by violating what is right. What is right is a shared standard in the human heart. Those who act against it will sink into degradation and cannot remain pure and self-possessed or experience the joy of the Great Dao. The passage also gives the example of Guo Yanqing, a Song dynasty recluse. Disgusted by the decline of public morals, he lived in seclusion for more than twenty years and refused to take office even when recommended by a chancellor. Celebrated men of the time, including Qian Weiyan, Xie Jiang, Yin Zhu, and Ouyang Xiu, admired his character and made special visits to see him. His example reminds people to know shame and preserve their integrity.

Notes: Lü Perfected refers to Lü Dongbin, one of the Eight Immortals. Sun Perfected refers to Sun Simiao, the Medicine King. Xuanlü was a renowned Tang dynasty monk of the Vinaya school. The “three hundred rites and three thousand forms of proper conduct” comes from the Book of Rites and refers to the many rules of etiquette. Guo Yanqing was a renowned Song dynasty recluse.

This passage recounts the stories of two recluses who transcended worldly concerns and found joy in humble simplicity while embodying the Dao.

The first tale describes how Duke Wenxi (posthumous title of Fu Bi, renowned Northern Song dynasty statesman) visited a hermit named Yanqing. Yanqing's dwelling was sparsely furnished, and when he saw the duke arriving with his large entourage, he merely smiled and said, "I never expected such an eminent person to visit this mountain rustic." Their conversation flowed effortlessly, and when the duke departed, he felt as though returning from an immortal realm. He marveled at how Yanqing regarded wealth and status as floating clouds, embodying the true essence of a scholar-official who understood the purity of quietude.

The second story centers on Du Wulang, a peasant farmer. He lived thirty li from the county town in two dilapidated rooms with bare walls. When the local official Sun Zhen visited this celebrated recluse, he discovered an existence of extreme frugality: in his youth, Du had jointly farmed half a qing of land with his nephew, but later gave all the land to his married nephew. He sustained himself by selling medicinal herbs and doing odd jobs, never competing with others for profit. When asked about his daily activities, he replied simply that he sat in stillness; questioned whether he read scriptures, he mentioned studying the Vimalakirti Sutra twenty years earlier and finding its principles profound, but the text had since been lost. Sun Zhen was deeply impressed by his bearing, recognizing him as a genuine cultivator of the Dao.

The conclusion observes how such individuals—content in poverty while devoted to the Dao, maintaining purity and self-restraint—stand in stark contrast to those who betray trust and employ unscrupulous means. Should not the latter feel ashamed? The final encomium emphasizes that discerning right from wrong must be rooted in the fundamental principles of cosmic order, while meting out punishments should consider specific circumstances.

We must be vigilant even toward the slightest evil thought, just as when weighing gold and silver, not even a single zhu (an ancient unit of weight) of error is acceptable. How much more so with wanton evil deeds that violate the principles of Heaven and human morality? If people do evil and go unpunished, that is what truly goes against the Way of Heaven.

Some people take pride in doing evil, cruelly harming living beings without the least remorse. An old saying goes, “The Way of Heaven always protects the good,” yet these people make a practice of evil. The greatest virtue of Heaven and Earth is to bring forth life, but these people cannot bear to refrain from harming living beings. They are plainly acting against the Way of Heaven and Earth—who else could be more guilty? Those said to “take pride in doing evil” never think they have done wrong; those said to “bear to do it” have no compassion at all. Among all evil deeds, none is more serious; among all acts of cruelty, none is more brutal. Hell was established for people like this. When the time comes, how could the ox-headed and horse-faced guardians of the underworld possibly spare you?

I urge everyone to act quickly, moved by compassion, to make amends; perhaps there is still time. Long ago, a monk named Juecheng came from the Western Regions to the Central Plains. Yang Yi, a literary figure of the Northern Song, held him in great esteem as soon as they met. Later, when the monk insisted on leaving, Yang Yi asked a translator to find out why. The monk replied, “Where I come from, we do not eat meat at all. But here in the Central Plains, pigs and sheep are slaughtered everywhere, and meat hangs in the markets. I truly cannot bear to see it. I plan to pay homage to Bodhisattva Manjushri at Mount Wutai, then return home.” The poet Huang Tingjian once wrote, “Fern shoots have already curled like little children’s fists.” When Zhang Ge, a Song official, saw the line, he was displeased, thinking it too cruel. In truth, the poet was only describing the scene; he was not being cruel. When Zhang Ge served as an official in Hanoi, he ate vegetarian food and recited scriptures with his colleague Ge Fan. He himself had also given up meat, which is why he felt this way.

If people everywhere could have the same compassion for all things as the monk Juecheng and Zhang Ge, I dare say no one would take pride in doing evil, much less bear to harm living beings. So I have offered these examples first, and will now briefly discuss karmic retribution. Once, Lu Xiaozheng tried unsuccessfully to collect a hive of bees. In anger, he poured boiling water over them and killed them all. Not long afterward, in that very place, a large bee stung him to death. Zhou Ang was sleeping during the day when the cries of three nestling swallows beneath the eaves disturbed him. He fed them cockleburs, causing all three to die with their chests torn open. Later, all three of his sons became mute. Several cypress trees at Jinhua Temple suddenly became infested with yellow caterpillars, each nearly two inches long… (The original text is incomplete; this section recounts examples of karmic retribution.)

There was once a temple monk named Xiurong who particularly loathed insects infesting the foliage. He ordered his disciples to sweep away all the insects, either burying them or tossing them into firewood piles. His disciple Xiuren went even further—he would leave insect-ridden firewood under the scorching sun until all the insects died before burning it. Years later, when Xiurong passed away, another monk in the temple also died temporarily. Upon returning to life, this monk told Xiuren, "In the underworld, I saw Xiurong wearing iron shackles, tormented under blazing heat, with countless insects crawling all over his body, gnawing at him in unbearable agony." Terrified by this account, Xiuren soon developed festering sores on his back and died within days.

At Daci Temple, the monk Xiuzhun built a new bamboo hut but grew furious upon finding ants crawling on the railings. In a rage, he chopped down the bamboo and burned all the ants to death. Not long after, his body became covered in sores, especially on his face. Doctors diagnosed it as "ant-leaking sores," declaring it incurable. Xiuzhun died shortly thereafter. Similarly, Wang Yu, annoyed by magpies' chatter, cut out their tongues—only to later die from tongue sores. Zhang Lin, irritated by frogs croaking, scalded them with hot ashes—and soon found his own body covered in festering wounds as if boiled alive.

These stories teach us: How can humans cruelly harm animals simply out of disgust? Committing such sins inevitably invites retribution.

A verse of praise says: Wise men like Zhibo and talented scholars like Pengcheng possess gifts akin to fine timber—who could stop them if they chose virtue? Yet how tragic if they turn to wickedness!

Secretly harming the virtuous is an especially grave offense. Historical records show: Chen Ping, skilled in treacherous schemes, knew his line would end with him; Gongsun Hong, outwardly kind but inwardly malicious, left no notable descendants. Conspiracy is like an arrow shot from darkness—hardest to guard against, yet most abhorrent when aimed at the good. The virtuous are the people's hope, revered in every nation and village—how dare anyone plot against them?

Before rising to power, Li Linfu once met a Daoist at a locust tree altar who warned him: "Your name is already in the immortal registry. Even if you don’t attain ascension in broad daylight, you’re fated to be prime minister for twenty years of peace. When you gain authority, remember—never scheme against others." Yet once elevated, Li Linfu forgot entirely. Relying on imperial favor, he devoted himself to dark intrigues—and in the end, suffered the consequences.

This scripture recounts stories of karmic retribution. There was a man named Lin Fu who committed wicked deeds and harmed others for a long time. Later, he dreamed of a Daoist priest rebuking him: "Have you forgotten my words?" Soon afterward, he was indeed punished. He was taken to a place where he could only hear the sounds of wind and water. Seeing a magnificent mansion, he still felt pleased with himself. The Daoist told him: "This is where aquatic creatures dwell—a place full of suffering and torment. How can you find it agreeable?" Lin Fu woke up in a cold sweat, terrified. This was the retribution for those who harm the virtuous: after death, they become aquatic beings.

Another man, Xu Wengui, was taken to the underworld but was granted twelve more years of life because he had once saved someone. As he left, he saw a heavily guarded gate. The underworld officers told him: "This is the Capital Prison (Duyu). All those who framed the loyal, slandered the good, or secretly committed evil in the mortal world—regardless of status—will be punished here after death." This is the retribution for harming the virtuous: they will inevitably fall into hell.

The scripture explains: Open and righteous actions belong to Yang, while treacherous and malicious deeds belong to Yin. If a person harbors malice throughout their life, they will naturally descend into the Yin realm after death. Becoming an aquatic creature or falling into hell is only fitting. The text further emphasizes: For subjects who deceive their rulers and parents with cunning—outwardly respectful but inwardly contemptuous—this is called "secret disrespect" (anwu), the gravest betrayal of virtue. The example of Cao Bin (styled Wu Hui) is given—a man of integrity who thus met a peaceful end.

Through these concrete examples, the scripture illustrates that those who secretly commit evil and harm the virtuous will inevitably suffer retribution after death, either as aquatic beings or in hell. Meanwhile, those who are honest, upright, and perform good deeds will receive favorable rewards.

This scripture illustrates the concrete manifestations and karmic retributions of loyalty and filial piety through stories of historical figures.

Prince Mi (a royal descendant of the Jin dynasty) carried himself with utmost solemnity, sitting upright in full court attire as if in the presence of the emperor. Even at home, he maintained a dignified demeanor, shutting his doors to visitors. Every day at the fifth watch (3–5 a.m.), he would arrive at the palace gates to await court sessions, persisting in this routine for eight years without fail, even in bitter cold and heavy snow. Wang Dan (a renowned Northern Song prime minister) remained as disciplined at home as he was in court. Once, after returning from court, he entered a quiet chamber (a Daoist meditation space) still in full regalia to sit in silent contemplation. His family grew alarmed and sent his younger brother to inquire, to which Zhao Anren explained, "He is troubled by unresolved state affairs." Should those who secretly deceive their ruler not feel ashamed upon seeing this?

Guo Cong lost his father in childhood and served his mother for thirty years, abstaining from meat and wine while praying devoutly morning and night for her longevity. His mother, Lady Zhang, indeed lived to 104, remaining clear-eyed and sharp-eared. Meng Xi, though an unlearned market vendor, perfectly embodied filial duties—warming his parents in winter, cooling them in summer, and paying respects at dawn and dusk. After his father’s death, he slept on straw, abstained from salt and dairy, and grieved so intensely he nearly harmed his health, maintaining this for three years. Should those who secretly neglect their parents not feel remorse upon witnessing this?

Precisely because they dared not deceive in secret, the families of Cao Bin and Wang Dan flourished exceptionally; Guo Cong received imperial commendation; and Meng Xi unearthed gold while tilling his fields, becoming wealthy. Thus, Heaven’s retribution for loyalty and filial piety never errs.

The concluding verse states: True reverence never disrespects others, while hypocrisy has no foundation. Serving father and ruler demands sincerity—anything less is self-deception. Should anyone remain ignorant of this principle, the divine will surely bear witness.

(Note: "Quiet chamber" refers to a Daoist purification space for practice; "morning and evening respects" was an ancient ritual of children greeting their parents daily; "fifth watch" denotes the early morning hours in traditional timekeeping.)