《抱朴子內篇》Vol. 3

Some may question: Long-lived individuals like Pengzu (the legendary immortal said to have lived eight hundred years) and Lao Dan (Laozi) are like the pine and cypress among trees - their longevity stems from innate endowment. How could such longevity be attained through cultivation?

Ge Hong (Baopuzi) responds: Humans are the most spiritually endowed beings between heaven and earth, capable of comprehending nature's principles. Those who grasp superficial truths can master external phenomena, while those who penetrate profound truths attain immortality. Knowing superior medicines prolong life, they ingest elixirs seeking transcendence; understanding how turtles and cranes achieve longevity, they emulate their breathing techniques to extend their years. While pine branches differ from other trees and cranes' forms distinguish them from common fowl, Pengzu and Laozi were ordinary humans - not different in kind yet exceptionally long-lived precisely because they mastered cultivation methods, not through innate nature.

Other trees cannot imitate pines, nor common animals learn the crane's longevity - hence their early demise. But humans with wisdom who cultivate Pengzu and Laozi's methods can achieve identical results. Should one claim immortals don't exist, historical records document nearly a thousand, each with names and verifiable deeds, not mere fables. If these were all born exceptional, they nevertheless had teachers and followed alchemical practices rather than innate knowledge.

Should one argue cultivation arts cannot be learned, consider the nine hundred documented techniques: shape-shifting, sword-swallowing, fire-spitting, appearing and vanishing at will, summoning winds and rains, conjuring serpents and fish, transforming thirty-six minerals into clear water, softening jade, melting metal, walking through water unwetted, treading blades unharmed - all achievable through proper practice. Why then doubt immortality?

The path to transcendence yields slow results with many prohibitions. Without transcendent aspiration and unshakable perseverance, few persist. Many abandon cultivation prematurely, then declare immortality impossible. Yet Daoist scriptures clearly state: ingesting the Golden Elixir (Jindan) and maintaining True Unity (Zhenyi) enables one to match heaven and earth in longevity; refining essence (Jing) and practicing embryonic respiration (Taixi) grants limitless life extension - these are the highest cultivation essentials.

Even worldly gentlemen maintain blameless hearts, deceiving neither heaven nor breaking promises - how much more would ancient Perfected Persons (Zhenren) fabricate scriptures or deceive posterity with impossibilities? For those lacking karmic affinity with the Dao, attainment may indeed prove difficult - yet this doesn't negate the Dao's existence.

Some may question: "The longevity of turtles and cranes is merely folk superstition—who could follow these creatures throughout their entire lifespans to verify such claims?" Ge Hong (the Master Who Embraces Simplicity) responds: When one comprehends the fundamental principles, even phenomena beyond the Eight Wildernesses become as clear as viewing objects in one's palm, and events from millennia past appear as vividly as if happening before one's eyes. Direct observation isn't always necessary—the Jade Register Annals (Yu Ce Ji) records that millennium-old divine turtles manifest five-colored patterns, develop two horn-like protrusions on their foreheads, comprehend human speech, dwell amidst lotus leaves or yarrow stalks, and often have white clouds swirling above their heads. Cranes that have lived a thousand years alter their calls with the seasons, perch on tree branches (younger cranes cannot do so), display pure white plumage with crimson-red heads—all identifiable at a glance.

Yet these long-lived creatures often possess extraordinary wisdom and dwell in remote areas, making them rarely seen by ordinary people. Both the Jade Register Annals and the Chang Yu Scripture further document: Millennium-old pine trees grow their branches horizontally like canopies (unlike ordinary upward-growing trees), often nurturing spiritual beings within—some resembling azure oxen or goats, others appearing as green hounds or humanoids, all possessing thousand-year lifespans. Other records mention immortal spirit snakes, macaques transforming into gibbons at 800 years (gibbons becoming thousand-year-old jue creatures at 500), toads living three millennia, qilin unicorns reaching two thousand years, while teng-huang horses and ji-guang beasts both attain three thousand years. Those legendary "thousand-year birds" and "ten-thousand-year fowl" often bear human faces on avian bodies, their lifespans corresponding to their names. Tigers, deer, and rabbits grow white fur after five centuries, gaining transformative abilities at that age. Foxes and jackals live eight hundred years (assuming human forms at 500), while rats reaching three hundred years (turning white at 100) can possess humans for divination—such oracle rodents called "Zhong" predict annual fortunes and distant events.

Countless such examples exist—the learned recognize them upon sight, the erudite understand their principles naturally. Why must one dwell with turtles and cranes daily to know this? Without proper understanding, even spotting lingzhi mushrooms daily in one's garden would mistake them for common weeds. (Supplementary note: This passage exemplifies the Daoist concept of "objects aging into spirits" (wu lao cheng jing), where prolonged natural existence bestows extraordinary forms and abilities, reflecting Daoism's sacred perception of organic life.)

This passage recounts two miraculous tales about turtles to illustrate their longevity, thereby supporting the Daoist belief in life-prolonging cultivation practices.

The first story, from Records of the Grand Historian: Biographies of Diviners, tells of a Jianghuai region resident who used a turtle as a bed leg support in childhood. When the man died of old age decades later, his family moved the bed to discover the turtle still alive. Having survived fifty or sixty years without food or water, this creature clearly differed from ordinary beings, making a thousand-year lifespan entirely plausible. This validates the Daoist scriptures' turtle-breathing techniques (guixi fa) that imitate reptilian respiration.

The second account by Chen Zhonggong describes wartime chaos when a man named Zhang Guangding, fleeing conflict, reluctantly left his four-year-old daughter in an ancient tomb with several months' provisions. Returning three years later to collect remains, he found the girl alive. She explained that after finishing the food, she noticed something in the tomb corner stretching its neck to "swallow qi" (a turtle) and imitated its motions, ceasing to feel hunger. Her parents identified the creature as a massive turtle. Remarkably, when the girl resumed eating grain after leaving the tomb, she experienced digestive discomfort. This proves turtles possess genuine immortality techniques, and cultivators emulating their breathing can achieve similar longevity.

The author emphasizes that neither Sima Qian nor Chen Zhonggong were fabricators. Among countless creatures, ancient sages specifically highlighted turtles and cranes precisely because of their extraordinary nature. These examples reveal profound truths. Skeptics may argue: "Turtles hibernate underground and cranes fly through heavens, yet humans cannot briefly hibernate or fly." [The text implies this superficial objection misses the deeper cultivation principles at work.]

This passage from Baopuzi Neipian (Inner Chapters of the Master Who Embraces Simplicity) explores whether the path to longevity can be learned. Someone asks: "Can long life truly be acquired through study?" Baopuzi replies: Many insects hibernate, and many birds can fly, yet only turtles and cranes attain longevity—their extended lifespans are not due to hibernation or flight. Thus, Daoist practitioners need only learn Daoyin techniques (a health-preserving practice combining breath and movement) to prolong life and emulate the "eating Qi" method (reducing food intake through breath regulation) to minimize eating, without needing to master the abilities of burrowing underground or soaring through the skies.

Those who truly attain the Dao (the Way) can ride clouds and mists above or dive into rivers and seas below. Just as Xiao Shi (a legendary immortal skilled in playing the flute) ascended on a phoenix, and Qin Gao (an ancient immortal) rode a red carp into the depths, these feats far surpass brief hibernation or momentary flight. Creatures like dragons, snakes, and water spirits can go entire winters without eating, emerging even stronger—yet humans cannot master such methods.

Many creatures in nature possess abilities surpassing humans, not just turtles and cranes. For example, Taihao (Fuxi) imitated spiders to weave nets, Jintian (Shaohao) observed wild geese to devise calendars, the Yellow Emperor adjusted musical tones based on phoenix calls, and Emperor Yao tracked months using the Mingjia grass (a mythical plant said to grow one leaf per month). Animals each have unique talents: Zhong Jun knew the past, magpies foresaw the future, fish lords sensed floods and droughts, mayflies detected underground springs, white wolves heralded the rise of the Shang dynasty, and Yuèzhuó (a mythical bird) signaled the prosperity of Zhou. Thus, it’s no surprise turtles and cranes excel at life-nourishing Daoyin arts.

Immortal scriptures (Xianjing) document hundreds of longevity methods, varying in speed and difficulty—none require slavishly imitating turtles or cranes. Superior practitioners, with lofty vision, naturally grasp profound truths, far beyond the shallow reasoning of worldly minds to fathom the depths of divine intent.

Some skeptics ask: "If modern people don’t understand longevity, how could the ancients have known?" This reflects narrow-minded ignorance. Historical records clearly state: Luan Da could make chess pieces collide on their own, Wei Shang vanished suddenly while seated, and Zhang Kai summoned clouds and mist. These miraculous arts are documented in official histories’ biographies of immortals, lending them credibility. If minor marvels are verified, why should the path to immortality be doubted?

Another objection arises: "If immortality were achievable, one would abandon worldly life, even ancestral rites. Wouldn’t the spirits of ancestors resent this?"

This scripture discusses the different realms and choices in cultivating the Dao to attain immortality. Ge Hong (Baopuzi) states that preserving one's body from harm can be considered a good end to life—how much more so achieving the Dao to become immortal, living as long as heaven and earth, which far surpasses the ordinary notion of a good death.

Those who truly attain the Dao can ride clouds and mists, feast on morning vapors, absorb the essence of heaven and earth, drink jade nectar, and dwell in the jade pools of the immortal realms, roaming freely without constraint. Such individuals may assist the Five Thearchs, command the hundred spirits, and hold exalted positions that even ghosts and deities revere.

Ge Hong cites the example of Laozi (Boyang) to illustrate that Dao cultivators may still maintain family lineages. Some ask: If immortals already possess supernatural powers, why don't they all ascend to the celestial realms, with some choosing to remain in the human world? Ge Hong explains this as a matter of personal preference. Immortals may either ascend or stay on earth—the crucial point is attaining eternal life. Those wishing to remain temporarily in the mortal world may consume only half an elixir (dan), completing the dose when ready to ascend. As Pengzu observed, the celestial bureaucracy maintains strict hierarchies where newly ascended immortals hold lowly positions, obliged to serve numerous higher deities—sometimes less desirable than enjoying eight hundred years of carefree existence in the human realm.

The text concludes by noting that some ancient immortals grew wings to fly, though this alters one's original form, much like birds transforming into clams or pheasants into giant oysters. This demonstrates the diverse paths and manifestations of Daoist cultivation—there is no single prescribed way to achieve immortality.

This passage primarily discusses the relationship between Daoist cultivation for immortality and worldly life, as well as the fundamental virtues practitioners should possess.

It first points out that true "human Dao" isn't about isolating oneself like the legendary sea monster Shen. The ideal human existence should involve: enjoying delicious food, wearing light and warm clothing, understanding the harmonization of Yin-Yang (referring to balance between body and nature), maintaining sharp senses and strong physique when holding official positions, having a healthy complexion, remaining vigorous in old age, enjoying longevity and freedom of movement, being unaffected by seasonal extremes or pathogenic influences, invulnerable to ghostly disturbances or weapon injuries, and unperturbed by emotional fluctuations like joy or anger. Merely abandoning one's family to live as a hermit in mountains, severing human relationships to exist like wood or stone, isn't worthy of admiration.

The text then cites examples of ancient immortals like Master Anqi, Longmei Ninggong, Xiuyang Gong, and Yin Changsheng, who remained in the human realm for nearly a millennium after consuming the Golden Elixir (alchemical medicine of Daoist practice) before ascending to heaven. The author argues that those pursuing longevity should actually cherish present life desires rather than rush toward celestial ascension. If one can attain immortality while remaining at home, why hurry to heaven? The teachings of Pengzu (the legendary immortal who lived eight hundred years) align perfectly with human nature.

When questioned whether virtue must precede cultivation, the author quotes the Jade Pendant Scripture (Yuqian Jing) to affirm this principle. Rescuing people from danger, preventing misfortune, curing illnesses, and saving lives from untimely death constitute superior merit. Those seeking immortality must take loyalty, filial piety, harmony, and benevolence as their foundation. Without cultivating virtue while obsessing over mystical arts—calculating celestial movements, divining fortunes, or investigating spiritual phenomena—is merely grasping at trivialities. Just as the master carpenter Lun Bian refused to teach superficial techniques, while the hunchbacked old man perfected the seemingly simple cicada-catching method to miraculous levels, the crux lies in the practitioner's innate wisdom and moral character.

The path of cultivating immortality is profound and difficult to comprehend. The principles of immortality cultivation are exceedingly subtle, and grasping their fundamental truths is no easy task. Even lofty figures like Chisongzi and Wangziqiao (legendary immortals), though they achieved success in their practice, may not have fully understood these underlying principles—how much more challenging must it be for ordinary people? Yet the art of immortality cultivation can indeed be learned, which is why the ancients recorded it and passed it down to those with the right affinity. If one truly comprehends it in their heart, they can believe and practice it; but if doubt lingers in the mind, it simply means it was not fated for them to know—why blame the ancients for understanding what one cannot?

The author, Ge Hong (Baopuzi), admits that while he knows immortality cultivation is possible—he can abstain from food through bigu fasting, make "flowing pearls" (a term in alchemy referring to mercury) ascend, and refine gold and silver—if pressed to explain the principles behind these feats, even he cannot articulate them clearly. If people only believe in what they can rationalize and dismiss what they cannot as false, then the scope of what is accepted in this world would be pitifully narrow. As Laozi said: using an owl's head to treat rat-induced sores or a woodpecker to protect against tooth decay—these can be analogized; but how crabs can dissolve lacquer or how hemp spoils wine—these defy conventional reasoning. The myriad phenomena of the world are strange and wondrous—how can we judge them solely by speculation?

Some skeptics argue that life and death are fated, that the length of one's lifespan is predetermined by heaven and cannot be altered by medicine. They say a severed finger cannot be reattached, and drinking spilled blood is useless—so how could consuming foreign substances like pine or cypress prolong life? Ge Hong counters: If we follow this logic, since a severed finger and blood originally belonged to the same body, why can they not be rejoined? I have personally witnessed someone use snake-salve ointment to reattach a severed finger and silkworms to replace the feet of chickens and ducks (note: an ancient form of shamanic medicine)—proof that the efficacy of foreign substances cannot be denied. If we truly needed no external aids, as you claim, then should we grind our own flesh to heal fractures or boil our scalps to cure baldness? Water, soil, and plants are not of the same body, yet they nourish all things to grow.

This passage conveys two main teachings: the principle of mutual generation and restraint among all things, and the rules for cultivating immortality through virtuous conduct.

First, the natural order: Plants and trees depend on the earth to grow, while crops that aren't human nevertheless sustain human life. Oil isn't fire yet feeds flames; water isn't fish yet nourishes them. Just as fire dies when oil is exhausted, fish perish when water dries up. Parasitic plants wither when their host trees are felled, and dodder vines fade when weeds are cleared. Crabs abandon dried riverbeds, allowing borers to destroy leaves; when trees are cut down, the borers perish. These phenomena demonstrate the interdependence of all things.

Regarding the path to immortality: Blocking the body's nine orifices (seven facial openings plus the two lower passages) with metal or wood causes death, yet these same materials preserve corpses from decay. Brine penetrating muscles and bones prevents meat from rotting. Similarly, when elixirs suited for nurturing life nourish the living body, longevity naturally follows.

Some doubt that immortality techniques could be fabrications by enthusiasts rather than authentic teachings of the Yellow Emperor (Huangdi) and Laozi. The author responds that minor arts do produce verifiable effects: the moon-mirror (fangzhu) gathers water on moonlit nights; the sun-mirror (yangsui) kindles flames by daylight. There are also arts of invisibility, shapeshifting, transforming headscarves into rabbits, needles into snakes, instantly growing melons, or keeping dragon-fish in bowls.

Yet the author emphasizes: These techniques cannot grant eternal life. Grave misdeeds prompt the Director of Fate (Siming) to shorten one's lifespan, while minor faults erode blessings. Human lifespans have predetermined measures—those born with abundant virtue who err little may live long; those deficient in virtue who frequently transgress die young.

Cultivating immortality requires accumulating good deeds: Three hundred virtuous acts qualify one as an Earth Immortal (dixian), while twelve hundred merit celestial immortality. Should someone complete 1,199 good deeds then suddenly commit evil, all progress is lost and counting restarts. Virtue isn't measured by scale, nor evil by severity. Even without wrongdoing, malicious speech or performing good deeds for reward undermines merit. Without sufficient virtue, elixirs prove useless; but those who practice virtue without elixirs, though not attaining immortality, may avoid untimely death.

Although figures like Pengzu achieved cultivation attainments, their accumulated virtuous merit (De) remained incomplete, thus ultimately failing to attain celestial ascension. Here Ge Hong (Baopuzi) expresses a crucial perspective: achieving immortality through Daoist cultivation requires not only cultivation skills but also the accumulation of sufficient virtuous deeds. Pengzu, the famous ancient longevity immortal said to have lived eight hundred years, represents in Ge Hong's view the insufficiency of relying solely on longevity practices.

Daoist cultivation emphasizes the "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu) - requiring both internal alchemy (Neidan, the inner cultivation work) and the extensive accumulation of hidden virtue (outward good deeds). This parallels how modern people must develop professional skills while also cultivating moral character. Ge Hong suggests that although Pengzu succeeded in cultivation, his potential shortcomings in accumulating virtuous deeds prevented him from reaching the highest state of "ascending to heaven."

This philosophy reflects the Daoist cultivation principle of "perfecting both merit and conduct" - mere pursuit of magical arts or longevity without emphasis on moral cultivation is seen in Daoism as inadequate for attaining the Great Dao.