《天原發微》Vol. 17

The seventeenth volume of Tianyuan Faxi discusses the concept of "ghosts and spirits (guishen)." The Book of Changes (Yijing) is actually a scripture that reveals the mysteries of heaven, earth, and the spiritual realm. Beginning with discussions on Yin-Yang and life-and-death, it gradually delves deeper to ultimately explain the nature of ghosts and spirits. After Confucius elucidated the Yijing, only Confucian sages like Yan Hui, Zengzi, Zisi, and Mencius, as well as Neo-Confucian masters such as Zhou Dunyi, the Cheng brothers (Cheng Hao and Cheng Yi), Zhang Zai, and Zhu Xi, truly grasped its profound meaning.

Later, the teachings of Laozi (Dan) and Buddhism (Zhu) deviated from the true principles of natural creation, each developing distinct interpretations: Buddhism used ghosts and spirits to frighten followers into conversion, claiming to help them escape the cycle of rebirth, while Daoism employed the promise of immortality to attract practitioners, vowing eternal life. As these traditions became secularized, people began crafting idols from wood and clay, building temples for worship, and shamans chanted prayers—yet all these practices strayed far from the truth of creation. Xie Liangzuo (Master Shangcai) remarked: Ghosts and spirits represent the most subtle functions of heaven and earth, requiring dedicated study and contemplation.

The Commentary on the Book of Changes (Yizhuan) states: By observing celestial phenomena (Yang, manifest) above and terrestrial patterns (Yin, hidden) below, one comprehends the principles of Yin-Yang’s visibility and concealment; by tracing the origins and endings of life, one understands the essence of life and death. When essence (Jing) and vital energy (Qi) coalesce, life is formed; when the wandering soul (hun) disperses, death occurs—thus revealing the true nature of ghosts and spirits.

To elaborate: Viewed through the lens of the Yijing’s Yin-Yang principles, the sun, moon, and stars belong to the visible Yang, yet the vast cosmos also contains hidden darkness. The underworld springs belong to the hidden Yin, yet within them, life flourishes through the interplay of light and Yang. The beginning of life is Yang, called "birth"; its return to completion is Yin, called "death." A human lifespan spans a century—those who cultivate themselves properly retain abundant Yang energy even in old age, while those who neglect it may decline prematurely in youth. When Yang energy dominates and Yin recedes, all things thrive—this is the manifestation of "spirit (shen)." When Yin energy dominates and Yang recedes, all things wither—this is the manifestation of "ghost (gui)." In heaven and earth, Yang governs growth, but without Yin to complete dissolution, there would be only birth without death, disrupting the natural order.

This scripture explores the relationship between life and death, spirits, and the creative transformations of heaven and earth. Its core teaching is that by observing the interplay of light and darkness (Yin-Yang), one can comprehend life and death; through the phenomena of life and death, one may perceive the essence of spirits. All things in heaven and earth are composed of a single Qi (vital energy), whose transformations permeate past and present, day and night, forming the fundamental patterns of cosmic movement.

The text explains that humans are formed from the Qi of heaven and earth—the Yang aspect of Hun (spirit-consciousness) belongs to heaven, while the Yin aspect of Po (corporeal body) belongs to earth. At death, the Hun-Qi returns to heaven and the bodily Po returns to earth, reintegrating with the cosmic source. Thus, the phenomena of human life and death inherently contain the alternations of heaven and earth, the shifting of day and night, the revolutions of sun and moon, the turning of seasons, and the waxing and waning of spirits (the two energies of Yin and Yang).

Cheng Yi (Master Cheng) employs the cycle of seasons as metaphor: just as spring inevitably transitions to winter, which in turn nurtures new spring, so too does life and death follow this cyclical pattern. Understanding the principle of life reveals the nature of death; comprehending how to serve the living illuminates the true meaning of honoring spirits. Life and death, humans and spirits may appear as opposites, yet they are fundamentally unified.

Zhu Xi (Master Zhu) observes that the principle of spirits is difficult to fully grasp, advising practitioners to begin with immediate concerns. Humans are born possessing the Five Constant Virtues (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faithfulness) and should first practice the Dao of human relationships—serving rulers with loyalty and parents with filial piety, maintaining the same sincerity when honoring spirits. When one fully embodies the principles of life, facing death becomes natural and peaceful. As Zhang Zai (Master Zhang) states: "Living in accordance with heavenly principle, one finds tranquility in death." Confucianism holds that what endures is heavenly principle rather than individual souls, differing from Buddhism's doctrine of indestructible consciousness. The sages (like Confucius) did not speak of posthumous matters, focusing instead on present life practice.

The Tianyuan Faxwei passage primarily examines the fundamental nature of life and death alongside the operational principles of heaven and earth. The sages focused solely on how humans might cultivate their character during life. While the Six Classics (Confucian canons) meticulously record the words and deeds of sages, they rarely discuss matters of life and death—viewing these as natural phenomena. The Analects documents how Zengzi, even on his deathbed, instructed disciples to care for their bodies and act prudently, contrasting sharply with Buddhism’s pursuit of miraculous phenomena like seated ascension. Hu Mingzhong (a Song dynasty scholar) observed: "Humans are living beings, yet Buddhism constantly speaks of death; human affairs are observable, yet Buddhism fixates on the obscure." Zhang Zai (Master Hengqu) proposed that human life originates from the Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth—after death, this Qi disperses and returns to its source, while new life emerges from this same primordial Qi.

The text employs the paired concepts of Shen (spirit) and Gui (ghost) to explain the cyclical movements of all things: Shen represents states of growth, activity, and manifestation, while Gui signifies decline, stillness, and withdrawal. For instance, spring and summer embody Shen, autumn and winter Gui; daytime is Shen, nighttime Gui; in human respiration, exhalation is Shen, inhalation Gui. This classification does not refer to superstitious ghosts and deities but uses these terms to describe the two fundamental modes of Yin-Yang fluctuation in phenomena.

Zhang Zai further elaborates: The cosmic origin (Taixu, Supreme Void) is permeated with Qi, which condenses to form all things; when things dissipate, they return to Taixu—this is natural law. Though Qi undergoes condensation and dispersion, its essence remains eternal. Only by understanding that life and death are merely the gathering and scattering of indestructible Qi can one comprehend one’s true nature. Zhu Xi supplements this by stating: True nature is heavenly principle (Tianli), which cannot be simplistically defined through Qi’s transformations, for principle is an eternal, transcendent reality.

This passage reflects Song dynasty Neo-Confucians’ philosophical synthesis of Confucian perspectives on life/death with Daoist Qi-transformation theory, using Qi’s movements to explain life phenomena while reaffirming Confucianism’s emphasis on lived reality.

The gathering and dispersion of all things in the world are fundamentally manifestations of the movement and transformation of Qi (vital energy). What we call consciousness—spirit (Shen), hun and po souls—all arise from the workings of Qi. When Qi gathers, life emerges; when it disperses, existence returns to emptiness. Yet the "Principle" (the fundamental law of the cosmos) itself does not change with this gathering or scattering—it eternally endures. Wherever the Principle exists, corresponding Qi will circulate. When Qi coalesces in a particular place, the Principle manifests there—this cannot be compared to the fleeting existence of bubbles on ice.

Ghosts and deities are likewise expressions of Qi's transformations through spirit and souls, not eternal natures. Thus, sacrificial rites operate through the logic of resonance and correspondence between like entities. As for original nature, it transcends such categorical relationships. While dissipated Qi indeed returns to emptiness, the Qi that continuously regenerates from the root Principle is vast and inexhaustible. Therefore, when sages conduct sacrifices—erecting memorial tablets, arranging ceremonial representatives (the "corpse" officiant), burning mugwort, pouring libations, petitioning the yin realm or seeking the yang realm—they exhaust all methods while acknowledging only that "perhaps resonance may occur." Within this lies a profound sincerity, compassionate grief, and subtle mystery beyond verbal expression, utterly incomprehensible to vulgar opinions.

To claim that human souls persist as independent entities after death, hiding in some silent space awaiting sacrificial summons, is fundamentally unreasonable. Since the separation of heaven and earth, if all souls had persisted without dispersion, the cosmos would long have lacked space to contain them. The creative transformations of heaven and earth resemble a great furnace, with the ceaseless generation of all things—this is the eternal, unchanging truth. To mistake empty stillness for ultimate reality while treating the consciousness of the dead as eternal truth would be a grave error indeed.

When sages speak of "returning whole and resting in death," they mean dying with peace of mind, having fulfilled one's heaven-endowed nature and Principle—not that there exists some substantial entity to retrieve and settle. The saying "neither doubting premature death nor long life, cultivating the self while waiting" refers to maintaining self-cultivation regardless of lifespan—a state attained naturally, wholly distinct from deluded pursuits of immortal souls.

Life and death are the most significant matters of human existence, with impermanence arriving swiftly. Practitioners must remain particularly vigilant about this, unlike ordinary people who muddle through life unaware.

Master Cheng Yi stated that ghosts and spirits are in fact manifestations of the cosmic creative process (zaohua). Heaven above represents the noble, while Earth below signifies the humble—this is the fundamental principle of cosmic positioning, like the way thunder awakens all beings and wind-rain nourishes the earth, both being expressions of Heaven and Earth's operations. Human society has its rituals and music systems, just as the unseen realm has its ways of ghosts and spirits. Zhu Xi explained this as viewing from both the Yin-Yang and light-dark perspectives. To believe ghosts and spirits exist only in the unseen realm but not in the human world would be a misunderstanding. One must recognize that ritual and music embody the principles of ghosts and spirits, while the ways of ghosts and spirits also reflect the spirit of ritual and music—they are fundamentally interconnected, though their boundaries should be discerned.

The positioning of Heaven and Earth resembles following ritual propriety, yet when Yin and Yang energies interact, they brim with vitality. The stirring of wind and thunder manifests as the music of Heaven and Earth. When storms cease and thunder withdraws, order returns—this again demonstrates the ritual of Heaven and Earth. Ritual serves to harmonize human emotions and gather Qi (vital energy), valuing equilibrium; music functions to express human emotions and invigorate Qi, yet must maintain proper measure. The mutual flow between Yin-Yang and light-dark, the interplay of contraction and expansion—all interconnect with ghosts and spirits everywhere.

Buddhism views life and death too absolutely, considering the living as humans and the dead as ghosts. Yet noble persons maintain reverence even in solitude, conducting themselves in dark rooms as if facing divine beings. Using ritual to discipline the body and music to nourish the temperament—our cultivation through ritual and music itself manifests the presence of ghosts and spirits. As the Commentary on the Book of Changes states: "Jing-Qi (essence-energy, referring to Wood-Fire energies) governs growth, active in the southeast; wandering souls (referring to Metal-Water energies) govern completion, returning to storage in the northwest." When old Yin and old Yang withdraw, they become ghosts; when young Yin and young Yang emerge, they become spirits. The southeast represents Yang's brightness, the northwest Yin's hidden subtlety—ghosts and spirits exist not solely in darkness but equally in light.

Later, when ritual and music systems deteriorated, human hearts grew restless and hypocritical, losing both order and harmony. The ways of communicating with ghosts and spirits became distorted—either irreverent or obsequious—how could such approaches resonate with divine beings?

Zhang Zai said: "Ghosts and spirits are the subtle functioning of Yin-Yang energies." Zhu Xi acknowledged Cheng Yi's description of ghosts and spirits as "traces of cosmic creativity" as correct, yet further suggested...

This discussion explores the relationship between Yin-Yang transformations and the nature of spirits (shen) and ghosts (gui). Zhang Zai (Master Hengqu) articulated this most clearly: the contraction and expansion, the coming and going of Yin and Yang constitute the patterns of transformation in all things. The numinous quality of Yin is called gui (ghost), while the numinous quality of Yang is called shen (spirit). This innate numinosity enables all things to undergo contraction and expansion.

When beings first come into life, the growth of Yang qi (vital energy) nurtures their vitality. Upon reaching its zenith, the Yang qi begins to wane and disperse. The process of Yang's expansion is called shen (spirit), while its withdrawal is called gui (ghost). Just as a person, from birth, is nourished by the qi of heaven and earth until reaching the peak of maturity, then gradually declines and dissipates—this is the natural order, not driven by external forces. Hence it is called liangneng (the innate capacity of nature).

Shao Yong (Master Shao) further explained: Yin is the shadow of Yang; gui is the shadow of humanity; the moon is the shadow of the sun; emotions are the shadow of innate nature. Yang, humanity, the sun, and innate nature are the substantial, while Yin, gui, the moon, and emotions are their reflections. Just as Yang qi begins to emerge at midnight (zi hour), reaching its peak by noon, while Yin qi arises from the fifth lunar month onward. The twelve earthly branches divide into six Yang hours (zi to si) and six Yin hours (wu to hai). All things in heaven and earth mirror this correspondence: celestial Yang corresponds to terrestrial Yin; objects in water mirror those on shore. Generally, Yang is primary while Yin is its shadow, much like the relationship between male and female.

A day has twelve hours, a year twelve months. The moon begins to brighten at the new moon, becomes full at the fifteenth day, transforms through its waxing and waning phases, and darkens completely by month's end. This phenomenon illustrates the states of shen and gui: human nature contains the inherent principles of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom, which manifest externally as compassion, shame, humility, and discernment. Just as form casts shadow, the human hun (ethereal spirit) as shen inherently carries the po (corporeal soul) as its gui shadow. When the sun sets, the moon dims; when humans age, their vital spirit declines.

Shao Yong also observed: Before human thoughts arise, even shen and gui remain unaware. Cultivation should reach a state where even spirits cannot perceive one's mind. Good and evil become known through speech and action, but when thoughts first stir in the heart, shen and gui already perceive them.

The Zhongyong (Doctrine of the Mean) states: The noble person remains watchful over the unseen and reverent toward the unheard. This reveals that true cultivation attends to the subtlest stirrings of thought, for even shen and gui perceive these initial movements of mind.

This passage elucidates two fundamental principles: the importance of "vigilance in solitude" (shen du), and the operational patterns of the human body's essence (jing), spirit (shen), hun (ethereal soul), and po (corporeal soul).

Regarding "vigilance in solitude," the text states that a true noble person maintains caution even in secluded chambers where no one observes, because though thoughts may not manifest in words or actions, the spirits and deities already perceive them. Just as when an ancient qin player harbored murderous intent (seeing a mantis hunt a cicada), listeners could detect it in the music, how much more would the omniscient spirits know? Thus, noble individuals must constantly preserve inner integrity without waiting until thoughts become actions to restrain them. The human heart mirrors the heart of Heaven and Earth—to deceive one's own heart is to deceive the cosmos.

The second part explains the relationship between essence, spirit, hun, and po within the body: when qi (vital energy) and blood flourish, the physical form thrives, and the hun-po grow strong; when the form declines, they weaken accordingly. The hun follows the fluctuations of breath, while the po clings to the physical form. Complete bodily function requires the coordinated operation of eight organs: the heart generates shen (spirit), manifesting as vision through the eyes; the kidneys produce jing (essence), manifesting as hearing through the ears; the spleen generates hun, manifesting as smell through the nose; and the gallbladder produces po, manifesting as speech through the mouth. The Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) correspond to the movements of essence-spirit and hun-po within the body. The shen-jing (yang aspects) and hun-po (yin aspects) are interdependent and inseparable.

The author laments how most people spend their lives chasing external matters without contemplating the cosmic principles inherently present within themselves. The human body is a microcosm containing spiritual connections with Heaven, Earth, and the deities—yet tragically, people often remain unaware of this truth.

When the human body ages and undergoes physical changes, the Yang Qi (Yang Hun, or yang soul) departs; when the Yin Po (yin soul) disperses, the yin-based physical form decays. Thus, ancient sage-kings considered cremation the harshest punishment, while for ordinary people's passing, burial sites were chosen through divination.

The kidneys reside in the north, corresponding to Tianyi Shengshui (the Daoist cosmological concept of water as the primal origin in the Five Phases theory), and serve as the storehouse of Jing (essence). Jing initially transforms into Po, which arises from Jing and assists its circulation, jointly regulating vital activities. Water generates Wood (according to the Five Phases' productive cycle), so the Wood phase—as the child of Water—houses Po within the gallbladder.

The heart resides in the south, corresponding to Taixu Huo (the Daoist concept of primordial fire), and serves as the storehouse of Shen (spirit). The yang energy produced is called Hun, which arises from Shen and assists the flow of spiritual energy, jointly governing life's functions. Fire generates Earth (Five Phases' productive cycle), so the Earth phase—as the child of Fire—houses Hun within the spleen.

The human body is governed primarily by Shen and Jing, with Hun and Po as secondary supports. When Jing is abundant, Po becomes vigorous. Only by attaining the state of utmost sincerity can Jing be generated, and only with the most refined Qi can divine clarity (Shenming) emerge. The state of "sincerity" is born from Tianyi (natural purity), free from falsehood. If one can focus and maintain unity without dissipating Jing, they will achieve a divine level of sincerity. Conversely, if focus is lost and Jing scatters, the mind becomes enslaved by the physical form, leading not only to an obscure death but also to a state little different from beasts.

Humans are born with Shen, Jing, Hun, and Po—these are the functions of innate nature (Xing). Qi, blood, and nourishment belong to the physical form. Only by cultivating both internal and external aspects can one strengthen Shen and invigorate Hun and Po. Innate nature comes from heaven and must have its repositories: the heart stores Shen, the kidneys store Jing, the spleen stores Hun, and the gallbladder stores Po, with the heart overseeing all these storehouses. Thus, humans can act in accordance with norms in speech, sight, and other activities—this is the manifestation of spiritual intelligence.

The physical form relies on the earth and must have corresponding organs: the lungs transmit Qi, the liver governs blood, the stomach digests nourishment, and the bladder and intestines eliminate waste. Hence, among all life between heaven and earth, humans are the most precious—how could this be compared to the shallow interpretations of Hun and Po by heterodox doctrines?

Once, a Daoist practitioner told me: cultivation must begin with the Dragon, Tiger, Tortoise, and Snake (Neidan terms symbolizing yin and yang energies within the body). Others say it starts with the heart and kidneys; still others claim it involves extracting essences from the Five Phases corresponding to the organs. Yet none would reveal the true essence. Later, I learned that the key to cultivation is actually simple—it lies in the work of utmost sincerity and single-minded focus. But today, most people know of it without practicing it. Zhu Xi (the Song Dynasty Confucian scholar) once...

Cai Xishan (a Song dynasty scholar) devoted his life to the study of Daoist philosophy. He observed that Daoists frequently employ interchangeable terms like "lead and mercury" (alchemical symbols for yin-yang) and "mysterious feminine" (Xuanpin, the cosmic union of heaven and earth's yin-yang) to obscure their true meaning, which fundamentally refers to the essential elements of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). Qu Yuan's concept of "luminous soul" (yingpo) in the Chu Ci speaks from the spiritual dimension - where "luminous" (ying) denotes the protective Qi circulating within the body, and when yin-spiritual Qi accumulates, it generates radiant manifestations. If the earthly soul (po) cannot sustain the heavenly soul (hun), the latter loses its anchor, resulting in death.

This explains the relationship between hun and po: the yang-active hun governs movement while the yin-quiescent po governs stillness. Hun resembles fire with its dual nature, whereas po resembles water with its singular nature. The phrase "carrying the luminous soul" (zai yingpo) means using the dynamic hun to safeguard the tranquil po - employing fiery hun to regulate watery po, deploying dual-natured hun to protect singular-natured po. Like a rider steadying a carriage, this allows hun to remain calm while po maintains clarity, preventing fire from overheating or water from overflowing - the essential secret of immortality. However, Cai Xishan didn't fully elucidate these principles.

Zhu Xi (Master Zhu) wrote poetic lines: "Stealing the mysteries of cosmic destiny, trespassing the gates of life and death," and "Yet fearing to violate heavenly Dao, how could stolen longevity bring peace?" - showing his theoretical understanding without practical commitment. He further explained: Jing and Qi pertain to all things; hun and po to living humans; while spirits (guishen) exist beyond physical forms. What's called Jing-Qi in life becomes hun-po after death, and manifests as guishen when attached to objects. Qi is substantial, hun-po semi-substantial, while guishen are predominantly insubstantial. He added: When Jing and Qi combine, they form hun-po coalescing into human form; if wandering hun disperses, yang energy scatters leaving yin energy rootless, inevitably causing transformation.

Zichan of the Spring-Autumn period stated: At birth, humans first develop po, from which the emerging yang energy becomes hun. Tang dynasty scholar Kong Yingda clarified: During birth, Qi first transforms into physical form - the intelligence within this form is po, which naturally contains yang energy whose spiritual aspect constitutes hun. These terms (hun-po-shen-ling) manifest initially as acute senses and physical dexterity (po's intelligence), then develop into conscious awareness (Qi's spiritual nature). Yang hun resembles fire; yin po resembles water. Cosmologically, water emerges first in creation; when yin-yang begin interacting, the warm aspect of formed po becomes hun - hence po precedes hun, though hun typically dominates. The Huainanzi states: Celestial Qi forms hun (yang spirit), terrestrial Qi forms po (yin spirit). Yue Qi observed: The heart's essence manifests as hun-po - po pertains to physicality, hun to spirituality, while "essence" (jing) belongs to po's domain.

This passage elucidates the Yin-Yang relationship between "Hun" (ethereal soul) and "Po" (corporeal soul) within the human body and their operational principles. The Hun, representing human consciousness and spirit, belongs to Yang—active and warm like flame; the Po, governing physical functions, belongs to Yin—serene and cool like crystal. During life, they mutually depend: the Hun animates the Po, while the Po provides the vessel for the Hun's activity.

Concretely: the Po governs sensory functions—seeing with eyes, hearing with ears, smelling with noses, tasting with tongues—and memory storage. In youth, when Po energy is abundant, one enjoys sharp senses; in old age, as Po declines, vision blurs, hearing fades, and memory weakens. The Hun oversees cognitive processes and outward expression. Their relationship resembles fire and mirror: the Hun's radiance illuminates and transforms like flame, while the Po reflects reality yet remains inwardly grounded like a mirror's surface.

Balance is essential: the Hun's heat and Po's coolness must harmonize—Yang without desiccation, Yin without stagnation—to maintain health. Should the Hun become hyperactive while the Po grows overly inert, their imbalance leads to death. Just as a lamp's flame (Hun) requires a wick (Po) to sustain burning, at death they separate—the Hun ascends like ethereal smoke while the Po descends as dense matter.

Cultivation hinges on "using the Hun to guard the Po": the active Hun nourishes the quiescent Po, vitalizing it while gaining stability in return. Like fire warming ice and ice cooling fire, their mutual nourishment sustains life. When Jing (essence) and Qi coalesce, Hun-Po unite to form human vitality; when essence depletes and energy scatters, their separation signifies death.

The text particularly notes: though human breath belongs to Yang, the body's substance is fundamentally Yin—life inherently contains death's principle. At death, the ascending Hun-Qi manifests Yang, while the descending corporeal Po expresses Yin, still embodying Yin-Yang dynamics. This subtle dialectic reflects Daoism's profound understanding of life's essential nature.

During human life, the body simultaneously contains two types of energies: "Shen" (spirit) and "Gui" (ghost). While alive, "Shen" dominates; after death, "Gui" takes precedence.

Regarding the concept of ghosts and spirits, the Book of Rites: Meaning of Sacrifices records a dialogue between Zai Wo (a disciple of Confucius) and Confucius. Zai Wo said, "I often hear the term 'ghosts and spirits,' but I don't understand what it specifically refers to." Confucius explained: "What is called 'Qi' (vital energy) is the manifestation of 'Shen' in its flourishing state, while 'Po' (corporeal essence) is the manifestation of 'Gui' in its flourishing state. Combining 'Gui' and 'Shen' is the fundamental principle of sacrificial rites."

The Book of Rites: Suburban Sacrifices further elaborates: After death, the "Hunqi" (spiritual energy) returns to heaven, because the Hun originally relies on Qi, which ascends after death. Meanwhile, the "Tipo" (physical essence) returns to the earth, since Po belongs to the corporeal form, which naturally rejoins the soil after death. Ancient sages established sacrificial rituals based on the different states of the living and the dead. For the living, it is called "Hun"; for the dead, it is called "Po." Combining the two as "Gui-Shen" expresses reverence, enabling the people to feel awe and submit willingly.

Yanling Jizi (a prince of the Wu State during the Spring and Autumn period) lamented his son's death, saying: "Flesh and bones must return to the earth—this is nature's law. But the soul is omnipresent." The Erya explains: "Gui means 'return,' signifying the inevitable return of the body to the soil, while the ascending and dispersing Qi is called 'Shen,' due to its unfathomable transformations." In essence, ghosts and spirits are manifestations of Hun and Po—the flourishing of "Shen" appears as breath, perception, and movement in life, while the flourishing of "Gui" manifests as keen senses, robust vitality, and physical vigor.

When asked about life and death, Xie Liangzuo (a Northern Song Neo-Confucian scholar) replied: "When Qi is exhausted, death occurs." Further questioned, "Do ghosts and spirits exist?" he cited Cheng Hao (Master Mingdao): "If I say they don’t, how can you be certain? If I say they do, the answer lies in your own contemplation." Zhu Xi commented: "Xie Liangzuo’s explanation of ghosts and spirits is excellent. For those worthy of sacrifice (like ancestors and parents), respond with sincerity—there’s no need to treat them as the dead. For those unworthy of approach, maintain distance—no need to regard them as living beings. Ignoring them naturally renders them harmless."

Regarding the meaning of sacrifice, Zhu Xi viewed it as an expression of special intent. Through three days of fasting and five days of devotion, seeking resonance in the Yin-Yang and all directions is ultimately about concentrating one’s own spirit. As the Book of Changes states in the "Dispersion" (Huan) and "Gathering" (Cui) hexagrams, though sacrifices seem to affirm the existence of ghosts and spirits, stubborn insistence on their concrete reality is also incorrect.

(Note: "Huan" and "Cui" are hexagrams in the Zhouyi, symbolizing the diffusion and concentration of spirit; "Ge" refers to resonance; "Miao" denotes ancestral temples for sacrificial rites.)

This scripture explores the profound relationship between "being" (you) and "non-being" (wu), pointing out that true wisdom lies in grasping the subtle realm where existence and emptiness intertwine. Ghosts and deities are in fact manifestations of the interaction between Yin and Yang energies (Qi) in heaven and earth—when Yin and Yang merge they form "spirit" (Shen), while the separation of form and Qi gives rise to "ghosts."

In ancient sacrificial rituals, the use of ancestral tablets (wooden spirit tablets representing ancestors) was not mere formality. Through sincere reverence, participants could concentrate the Yin-Yang energies. Though ancestors had passed away, their spiritual essence (Shen) remained connected with descendants. During ceremonies, when the chief officiant maintained genuine piety, they could resonate with the ancestral Qi lingering between heaven and earth. This resonance wasn't about encountering some concrete object suspended in air, but rather recognizing that descendants and ancestors share the same continuum of Qi.

Regarding sacrifices for collateral relatives, the scripture explains all life originates from the same Qi lineage. Though human hun and po souls disperse after death, rituals can reconcentrate them. The sages taught descendants to maintain continuous sacrifices precisely to preserve this interconnected flow of bloodline Qi. This is why deities won't accept offerings from unrelated clans—their Qi channels don't connect.

Zhu Xi further clarifies that manifestations of ghosts and deities are essentially the contraction, expansion, and circulation of Qi. Human Qi remains perpetually linked with celestial-terrestrial energies, though ordinary people seldom perceive it. When the human mind stirs, it resonates with the Yin-Yang energies permeating creation. Early Confucian scholars viewed principle (li) and Qi as fundamentally unified—even the subtlest fluctuations of Qi can generate resonance. Like the numinous glow during supernatural manifestations, which actually arises from ascending vapors of luminous Qi (zhaoming zhi qi).

This scripture primarily explores the role of Qi (vital energy) in ritual sacrifices and natural phenomena, as well as the energetic connections between humans, spirits, and ancestors.

In sacrificial rites, there are two approaches: seeking Yang and seeking Yin. Seeking Yang involves burning aromatic herbs like wormwood to make the smoke ascend, which serves to resonate with the Qi of divine spirits. Seeking Yin employs offerings of millet, animal organs, and libations of aromatic wine poured on the ground to resonate with the Po (earthly soul) of the deceased. Human breath is one's own Qi, while clouds and rain are the Qi of mountains and rivers—all these energies are interconnected.

The ancients believed that from the earliest ancestors to present-day descendants, and even to Heaven, Earth, and the natural landscape, everything was linked by a single, continuous Qi. Even after death, when the Hun (ethereal soul) disperses, establishing a spirit tablet can gather some of this Qi within it. This is akin to using sacrificial blood to anoint a turtle shell for divination—employing living Qi to activate its spiritual responsiveness.

Cheng Yi (Master Cheng) explained that when famous mountains and great rivers generate clouds and rain, it is essentially the transformative action of Qi—this Qi is what we call Shen (spirit). Modern people fail to understand this principle; when facing floods or droughts, they pray in temples without grasping how dew and rain actually form. Zhu Xi (Master Zhu) held that when descendants make offerings to ancestors, they use the living Qi of the present to resonate with the dispersed Qi of the past—the key lies in sincere reverence.

The text concludes by noting: in terms of function, this is called "Gui" (ghost); in terms of its subtle workings, it is called "Shen" (spirit). Gui and Shen are, in essence, traces left by the operations of Zao Hua (the transformative processes of nature). Here, the emphasis is that the true nature of ritual lies in communicating between the Yin and Yang realms through the resonance of Qi—not in blind worship of wooden or clay idols.

The sun brings heat, the moon brings cold; day is bright while night is dark. Spring awakens life, autumn brings withering, summer fosters growth, and winter stores away for rest. These phenomena that generate all things are traces of the workings of the "ghosts and spirits" (referring to the transformative forces of nature), which can be clearly observed.

There exists an even subtler operation that remains invisible: seemingly formless yet perceptible, seemingly silent yet comprehensible, manifesting within all things without exception. The Dao (the fundamental cosmic principle) both exists and seems not to exist, both reveals itself and seems concealed. In the void, it suddenly transforms, producing thunder, lightning, wind, and rain; on tree branches, it abruptly blossoms with leaves, withering or flourishing. These are all impartial phenomena of the "ghosts and spirits" between heaven and earth, so commonplace that people no longer find them strange.

As for the will-o'-the-wisps that appear at midnight, stones that fly by day, beams that creak without cause, or whispers heard for no reason—these myriad bizarre anomalies—the Book of Changes records "a cartload of ghosts," and the Spring and Autumn Annals notes speaking stones in the state of Jin. In the Han dynasty, golden tripods were cast to suppress hundreds of specters, and when swords were tested, ghosts and spirits wailed. Fan Zhongyan's ghostly fan or Kong Daofu's serpent-shaped tablet—are such tales credible? In truth, these are all perverse phenomena born from the chaotic mingling of Yin and Yang Qi (vital energies), products of the shadowy aspects, not generated by the righteous Qi of heaven and earth.

Ghosts and spirits are transformed from the dual energies of Yin and Yang, just as humans are born into the world. People vary widely, the forms of all things differ, and ghosts and spirits are similarly diverse, filling the space between heaven and earth, manifesting in various phenomena with distinct forms. One cannot claim they do not exist. In the heavens, the sun, moon, and stars produce anomalies like comets and hail; on earth, mountains, rivers, and vegetation give rise to mountain spirits and water demons. Aberrations in water, fire, earth, or stone create disasters like floods, wildfires, or landslides. Among humans, those imbued with righteous Qi become sages and noblemen, while mutations produce the foolish and violent—greater aberrations may even throw the world into chaos. After death, some become revered deities receiving sacrifices, while others, bearing grievances, transform into demons. These transformations are endless—how can one say ghosts and spirits do not exist? The key lies in whether they align with the true Dao.

As Zhu Xi said: winter's cold and summer's heat follow natural order, but if summer were cold and winter hot, could one say... (the original text breaks off here, implying that anomalies exist but do not represent the norm).

This passage discusses phenomena related to spirits and ghosts, as well as the Confucian attitude of "respecting spirits while keeping them at a distance." Cheng Yi (Master Cheng) and Zhu Xi (Master Zhu) believed that cases like the haunting by Boyou (a minister of the Zheng State during the Spring and Autumn period) after his death were exceptional circumstances rather than the normal state of life and death. Zhu Xi explained that when a person dies with unresolved vital energy (renqi) and meets a violent end (qiangsi), they may transform into vengeful spirits. Zichan, the Zheng statesman, pacified Boyou's restless soul by establishing a descendant to carry on his lineage—an approach demonstrating profound understanding of spiritual principles.

The text cites several historical cases: the panic among Zheng people caused by Boyou's ghostly apparitions; the celestial phenomenon of a white rainbow piercing the sun, attributed to the righteous fury of Jing Ke from Yan State; the appearance of Venus intruding upon the Pleiades after Bai Qi, the Qin general, massacred Zhao soldiers; and the three-year drought following the unjust execution of a filial daughter-in-law during the Han Dynasty. These records suggest that when a person's spiritual energy (hunpo) is sufficiently potent, it can indeed influence the physical world after death. Notably, individuals of high status and comfortable lives—aristocrats like Boyou—possessed particularly strong hunpo, making them more prone to becoming vengeful spirits after violent deaths.

The passage concludes with the Confucian approach to spirits: while acknowledging the omnipresence of yin-yang energies and the reality of spiritual phenomena ("wherever one looks, there are spirits"), one should maintain rational detachment ("respect while keeping distance"). This perspective neither denies spiritual phenomena outright nor advocates blind superstition, but rather promotes objective study of these occurrences, providing future generations with a reasonable framework for understanding.

This passage primarily discusses the classification of spirits and deities between heaven and earth, as well as their relationship with humans. The general meaning is as follows:

The spirits and deities between heaven and earth can be categorized into several types: In the heavens, there are those operating within natural phenomena such as the sun, moon, stars, wind, rain, frost, and dew—like the six celestial deities mentioned in the Book of Documents (Shangshu) that were worshipped in the "Sacrifice to the Six Honored Ones." On earth, there are mountain deities of the Five Sacred Peaks (Wuyue) and river gods of the Four Great Rivers (Sidu), who assist in the transformations of nature by summoning clouds and rain, as recorded in the "Wucheng" chapter regarding the spirits of famous mountains and great rivers. There are also sages and worthies worshipped by the people due to their virtue and merit, such as historical figures like Gou Long and Hou Ji, whose virtues have been celebrated for generations.

When people die, they become ghosts. If descendants offer sincere sacrifices, the ancestors will respond—as stated in the Analects (Lunyu), "Sacrifice as if they were present." From the Son of Heaven to commoners, there are corresponding sacrificial rituals. Further down the hierarchy are wandering spirits and wild ghosts like mountain sprites and water demons, which do exist but are composed of irregular or malevolent Qi (vital energy).

The author emphasizes the importance of clearly distinguishing between these categories of spirits and deities to avoid confusion. By governing the world with the Dao (the Way), spirits and deities cannot cause harm. The human body is where Yin and Yang Qi converge, and a single thought can resonate with spirits and deities. Upright thoughts will attract fair and righteous spirits, while unwholesome thoughts will draw wandering spirits and malevolent energies. Zhu Xi used the metaphor of fish and water: just as various fish live in water, the relationship between the human mind and spirits is similarly subtle and interconnected.

Though this principle is illustrated through the simple analogy of small fish and water, it contains profound philosophical insights into the resonance between humans and the spirits and deities of heaven and earth.

In later ages, all manner of absurd and improper licentious cults and heretical teachings have flourished, causing people to gradually abandon their genuine reverence for the spirits (referring to the natural spiritual forces between heaven and earth) and their cultivation of De (Virtue/Power). Alas, how lamentable this is!

The term "licentious and frivolous sacrifices" mentioned here refers to superstitious worship activities that deviate from the orthodox Daoist beliefs regarding spirits and deities. The author laments how these heterodox teachings have led people to lose their proper, sincere reverence for the celestial and earthly spirits, as well as their innate aspiration to cultivate virtue and goodness.