《海瓊問道集》

Preface to Haixiong's Inquiries on the Dao, Part 5

Reading Han Yu's verses describing Peach Blossom Spring evokes ethereal longing for immortal realms, while Bai Juyi's depictions of celestial mountains over the sea stir aspirations for rebirth in Tusita Heaven (the Buddhist Pure Land). The human mind resembles rootless duckweed, drifting with every whisper of words it encounters. Alas! I've heard that divine states can be attained through cultivation, and eternal life achieved through diligent practice—though I dare not claim certainty, I am willing to learn. Since childhood, I've been devoted to the pursuit of transcendence, immersing myself in this path until, unnoticed, the years have flowed from Renzǐ to Dingchou. As mortal time slips away, how much longer can this frail body endure?

This spring, I was blessed to meet my master, Haixiong Jun (Bai Yuchan). His surname is Bai, given name Yuchan—some say he hails from Hainan, others speculate his ancestral roots lie in Xiangmian. Sometimes he wanders the markets barefoot with disheveled hair; other times he dons a blue headscarf and mountain robes to visit Daoist temples. Moving through the dusty world, none recognize his true nature. Claiming to be twenty-one, he masters the classics of Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism alike, discoursing with torrential erudition that leaves even contemporary scholars awestruck. His calligraphy spans every script from standard to cursive, seal to clerical; he excels in qin, chess, painting, and poetry, occasionally amusing himself in the human realm. His companions are all luminaries of the age, yet many admirers fail to draw close.

Carrying not a scrap of paper, his brushwork spreads far and wide the moment it touches ink. Roaming rivers and lakes, his fame fills the world, with followers as countless as hairs on an ox. People often see his pouch empty of coin or grain, yet drunk, he summons thunder and rain; asleep, he writes talismans (Fulu) that fly. Now joyous, now wrathful, laughing or weeping like a madman—yet his words never fail to portend fortune or calamity. His heart burns with sincere compassion to aid the world, sitting through nights by candlelight, singing loudly by day against railings. Mornings pass without washing, days without cooking, years without fire or water. He claims deafness and blurred vision, pleading toothache before guests—who can say if it's true? Sober, he seems drunk; awake, still dazed. Scholars vie to carve his writings into woodblocks, yet now he scowls more than smiles, out of step with worldly ways.

I was fortunate to receive his teachings: the Jiuding Jinqian Shagong texts on alchemy (Neidan), the secret fire-phases (huohou) of the Supreme Unity Golden Elixir (Taiyi Jindan)—where "knife-mark" (daogui) denotes minute medicinal measures and "fire-tally" (huofu) the alchemical firing process—and the Zixiao School's incantations for summoning wind and thunder. Recalling my past... (Note: This passage vividly portrays the unconventional cultivation methods of Bai Yuchan, a renowned Southern Song Daoist, exemplifying the Neidan practitioners of his era. His "playful engagement with the mundane world" embodies the Daoist ideal of "harmonizing radiance with dust" [heguang tongchen].)

Interpretation of the Haijiong Wendao Ji (Anthology of Haijiong's Inquiries on the Dao):

This classic records the spiritual insights of Bai Yuchan (one of the Five Patriarchs of the Southern Lineage of Daoism). In the preface, Liu Yuanchang (Bai Yuchan's disciple) traces the transmission lineage: Bai received the teachings from Chen Niwan, who inherited them from Xue Daoguang, who learned from Shi Tai, who succeeded Zhang Pingshu (Zhang Boduan, founder of the Southern Lineage), who studied under Liu Haichan, who received the authentic transmission from Lü Dongbin.

The "Dragon-Tiger Rhapsody" section focuses on essential Neidan (internal alchemy) practices:

The core teaching concerns the "Ninefold Reverted Golden Elixir" (the highest form of internal alchemy), emphasizing the attainment of the Great Dao through harmonizing Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) via the dual cultivation of nature and life. Using symbolic language, it describes alchemical components: the Azure Dragon and White Tiger represent Yin-Yang, the Vermilion Bird signifies the heart-mind, while the Crimson Palace (heart center) and Yellow Court (Dantian) serve as crucial cultivation sites.

The text identifies "true lead" (original Jing/essence) as the foundation of alchemy, requiring mastery over the Yin-Yang dynamics between Kan-Li (water-fire) and Qian-Kun (heaven-earth). It employs Yijing (Book of Changes) concepts—using the Bagua (Eight Trigrams) trigrams and line transformations to explain fire-phasing techniques, highlighting Taiji's (Supreme Ultimate) all-encompassing nature.

Practical cultivation involves the interaction of "Golden Lord" (lead) and "Crimson Maiden" (mercury), achieving the perfect union of water and fire, ultimately reaching the state of "one jin containing sixteen liang" (384 zhu, symbolizing celestial cycle completion). The work extensively employs Neidan terminology and Yijing numerology, using symbols like dragon-tiger, sun-moon, and Kan-Li to expound the alchemical principles of dual cultivation and Yin-Yang harmonization.

This scripture describes the wondrous process of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation, using natural phenomena of celestial Yin-Yang and the transformations of the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) as metaphors for the mysteries of alchemical practice.

The text mentions how water corresponds to profound darkness while metal manifests as reddish-yellow, illustrating how mountains, rivers, and the great earth all condense from primordial emptiness. In the alchemical process, cinnabar (representing the red essence) merges with true lead-mercury, undergoing marvelous transformations akin to golden radiance emerging from chaos.

The cultivation requires mastery over the principles of Yin-Yang and the Five Phases: water as one, fire as two, and earth as five, with the central earth (represented by the celestial stems Wu and Ji) governing celestial patterns. The text employs cosmic imagery like the sun's journey and moon's phases ("sun's soul and moon's spirit" symbolizing Yin-Yang harmony) and "five planets aligning" representing the convergence of the Five Phases to describe the precise timing of alchemical fire regulation.

The crux of alchemy lies in seizing the moment of "dragon-tiger copulation" (lead-mercury fusion) and "metal-wood conjunction" (Yin-Yang harmonization). Through the practice of "water-fire mutual attainment" (Yin-Yang equilibrium), the "yellow sprout" (embryonic form of the internal elixir) eventually crystallizes within the Dantian (divine chamber). The entire process must strictly follow celestial timing, requiring sixty days of "gentle nurturing" (gradual cultivation) to refine the "divine medicine" (Golden Elixir).

The text employs numerous Neidan terms such as "metal lord" (lead), "wood mother" (mercury), and "yellow matron" (true intention), all borrowing from Waidan (external alchemy) terminology to symbolize the internal transformations of Yin-Yang during cultivation.

This passage from Haiqiong Wendao Ji explains the principles of mutual generation and restriction among the Five Phases in alchemical practice:

Lead symbolizes the mutual generation of Metal and Water (lead belongs to Metal, and Metal generates Water). When lead transforms into "white gold" (an alchemical term referring to pure Yang Metal), it forms the "divine chamber" (the core component of the alchemical furnace). Within this chamber, Metal and Water intermingle, and through controlled firing, their color gradually shifts from white to yellow. When Water and Fire congeal in the "central repository" (the middle Dantian or the furnace's core), it prevents the dispersal of the "golden liquid" (the refined essence produced in alchemy).

During the stage of refining Metal's brilliance with Fire, faint smoke and mist appear. At this point, one must observe with a tranquil mind: white gold represents tangible matter, while fiery Qi represents intangible energy. By refining mercury (quicksilver), one resonates with the divine, uniting the substantial and insubstantial. The fusion of Water and Fire generates essence, much like the sun and moon embracing Yin and Yang. Crude lead (unrefined lead) contains the essence of Metal and "mysterious Water" (kidney Water), enveloping mercury (symbolizing the primordial spirit). When "yellow sprouts" (signs of the nascent elixir) appear, white stamens and red buds (representing different stages of the elixir's formation) emerge in succession.

Since Metal generates Water, it is called "Metal as the mother of Water." The "flower pond" (a fluid reservoir in the mouth or furnace) brims with pure energy. The entire alchemical system comprises intricate structures like altars, furnaces, stoves, and divine chambers. When Metal-Earth and mercury naturally combine, wondrous transformations occur.

The Wutu Jing passage describes even more profound mysteries:

It reveals the secrets of refining the "Great Golden Elixir of Return" (the supreme alchemical medicine), involving celestial phenomena: at dawn, the Pleiades appear to the left; at dusk, the You constellation lies to the right. In the sun's palace, the Jade Rabbit leaps, while in the moon's palace, the Golden Crow soars (mythical beasts symbolizing the sun and moon). The "Charming Maiden" (personified mercury) rides a crimson dragon, and the "Metal Lord" (personified lead) mounts a black tiger. Substances like silver, lead, and mercury are restrained by the Four Symbols (Azure Dragon, White Tiger, etc.), while the Five Movements (Five Phases in motion) are governed by central Earth.

During alchemical processes: the "Yellow Matron" (personified spleen-Earth) wears red robes, and "Elder Ding" (personified heart-Fire) dons blue garments. Clear distinctions between black and white symbolize Yin-Yang. The flower pond produces jade-like fluids, and the "red infant" (nascent elixir) gestates the "mysterious pearl" (internal elixir). The crimson furnace refines hard metals, revealing auspicious signs like tortoises and snakes (indicators of successful alchemy). The Dantian sprouts "golden grains" (elixir energy), and the padma flower (a Buddhist sacred bloom, here symbolizing the elixir) blossoms.

Later sections use celestial imagery to describe firing techniques: the Southern Winnowing Star corresponds to Kan-Water, while the Northern Dipper governs Li-Fire. The sun and moon cycle like pieces on a chessboard, and Mars (Yinghuo) traverses the six voids (all directions). The "wind wheel" (breath) blends Water and Fire. Through three strokes (three cultivation stages), five-six (thirty days) of "nursing" (gentle heating), and nine-nine (eighty-one days) of celestial cycles, the process completes.

The text emphasizes Yin-Yang equilibrium: summer snowfalls and winter greenery illustrate the importance of balancing firmness and flexibility. "Rabbits and chickens bathing in orchids" (gentle methods) and "toads and sunlight forging spears" (intense methods) metaphorize civil and martial firing techniques. The alchemical furnace aligns with the Tian Gang star, while the cinnabar crucible symbolizes Mount Kunlun. The Qian and Kun trigrams represent opening and closing the furnace. Pairing Chang'e (the moon) with Rahu (the eclipse demon) hints at Yin-Yang harmony.

The ultimate secret lies in: distinguishing clarity from turbidity within chaos, and discerning sinking and floating amid fierce flames. Host and guest (primary and secondary ingredients) must mutually regulate, while generation and restriction (Five Phase interactions) must be skillfully transformed. Measures like "two eights" (sixteen taels to a jin) and numbers like "two-seven-nine" (firing sequences) determine success. The "killing mechanism" (intense reactions) arises from the Gen position (northeast), while meticulous refinement belongs to Zhen (east). The Supreme Unity (Taiji) gestates in the central Earth of Wu-Ji, and all things shift like wind and moon. Even base materials like iron, tin, and copper ore can be transmuted into "purple lotuses" (supreme elixirs). These arcane teachings ultimately return to the supreme alchemical Dao of the Celestial Venerable of Primordial Beginning and Lord Lao.

The Haizhong Wenda Ji (Questions and Answers from the Seagull) reveals the essential secrets of Daoist cultivation:

True enlightenment does not require reading thousands of alchemical texts—the key lies in just a few phrases. If one can free themselves from the shackles of bodily desires, they may instantly ascend to the Great Canopy Heaven (the highest Daoist paradise). To cultivate both form and spirit (Xing-Shen), one must comprehend the principle of "returning to the root and restoring life's origin." This principle contains a crucial secret—once truly understood, its practice becomes effortless.

The so-called "root of creation" (the source of all things) follows this sequence: from emptiness (Wu) emerges spontaneity (Ziran), from spontaneity arises the Great Dao, the Dao transforms into primordial Qi, this Qi divides into Yin-Yang, Yin-Yang forms heaven and earth, and heaven-earth gives birth to all beings. This origin is the "Qi of True Oneness," existing before all phenomena—boundless, vast enough to encompass cosmos yet subtle enough to enter a hair's tip. Indescribable in words, sages reluctantly named it "Dao."

Understand that the mind itself is Dao: only a mindless state (Wuxin) merges with Dao, while intentionality creates separation. This character "Wu" (non-being) contains everything—it generates all things without exhaustion. Heaven-earth governs only formed objects; Yin-Yang influences only things with Qi; the Five Phases (Wuxing) rule only measurable entities; scattered thoughts disturb only the conscious mind. Therefore, Daoist practice begins with refining form, whose essence lies in concentrated spirit (Ningshen). When spirit concentrates, Qi gathers; when Qi gathers, the Golden Elixir (Jindan) forms; with the Elixir comes bodily fortification, and with fortification comes spiritual perfection.

The Song Dynasty master Song Qiqiu taught: "Forget the body to nourish Qi, forget Qi to nourish spirit (Shen), forget spirit to nourish emptiness." This "forgetting" leads to the realm of no-thing—originally there exists nothing, so how could dust accumulate? Those who grasp this truth and devote themselves to "forgetting" will penetrate Dao's profundity, command nature's mysteries, instantly establish their alchemical foundation, and set creation's forces circulating within.

This scripture expounds the core methods of Daoist cultivation, primarily elucidating how to attain unity with the Dao (the Way) through inner refinement:

The path of cultivation appears silent and void, yet through mindful contemplation one can perceive its presence. Practitioners must calm the mind and concentrate the Shen (spirit), maintaining a state of empty tranquility, whereby inner illumination will naturally manifest. The Supreme Venerable Lord Lao (the highest deity in Daoism) teaches this cultivation method: regard heaven and earth as the alchemical cauldron, and the movements of sun and moon as medicinal ingredients (the crow representing the sun, the hare representing the moon). Align the rising and setting of the sun with the circulation of Qi and blood, the moon's waxing and waning with the flourishing and waning of spiritual energy, the seasonal changes with the hours of the day, and the celestial constellations with the firing times of the alchemical furnace.

The essential practice involves: using Shen as medicinal material and stillness as firing control. Through the fire of stillness refining the medicine of spirit, one can forge the Golden Elixir (the supreme alchemical achievement in Daoism). The key lies in seizing the moment when Yin-Yang intersect and water-fire harmonize, discerning primary from secondary, and mastering advance and retreat. As ancient masters taught: gathering medicinal ingredients requires choosing the proper timing, while alchemical practice demands comprehending the creative patterns of heaven and earth. Understanding this principle enables one to share in heaven and earth's work like the sun and moon in their revolutions.

Heaven and earth nurture all things without leaving traces, thus enduring eternally. Cultivators must emulate this principle: internally clinging to no thought, externally viewing the body as void, and perceiving external objects as nonexistent. Realizing that mind, form, and objects are all illusory allows transcendence of illusions while preserving luminous original nature. Ancient scriptures state "born from emptiness, returning to the primordial source"—this means reverting to the state before life emerged, concealing the heart within the heart without manifestation, guarding the Shen within Shen without dissipation. Only thus can one penetrate past, present and future, clarify all worldly ties, purify the six senses, and attain mental clarity.

Ultimately it emphasizes: the Dao isn't deliberately pursued emptiness, but natural return to void. If humans can empty their hearts, the Dao will naturally come to dwell. The highest state of cultivation neither clings to emptiness nor non-existence, achieving true absolute void—whereupon appears the naked, utterly free original countenance, with luminous awareness abiding alone.

This scripture expounds the core principles and experiential states of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation:

The Dao itself has no fixed form—it cannot be deliberately pursued nor forcibly abandoned. It is neither square nor round, neither within nor without, comprehensible only to those who awaken to its truth. The three poisons (greed, hatred, delusion) and six desires are ultimately rootless; realizing this allows sudden return to the realm of emptiness.

Laozi taught that heaven and earth resemble a bellows (tuoyue)—appearing void yet endlessly generative. Practitioners must maintain harmonious Qi (vital energy) in meditative stillness, safeguarding the primordial Jing (essence, the True Singularity's essence) as one would seal an alchemical furnace to regulate its fire. The heart corresponds to the Li trigram (southern fire), where the Shen (spirit) serves as flame and original Qi as medicinal ingredient—refining Qi through spiritual fire coalesces the Golden Elixir.

Advanced cultivation manifests wondrous experiences: sensing internal Qi movements like bellows pumping, the "river chariot" (internal energy circulation) revolving, water and fire harmonizing, metal and wood merging. Symbolized by a maiden riding a dragon and an elder astride a tiger (representing yin-yang balance), practitioners break through the three passes (key points along the governing vessel) as internal energy transforms into jade nectar descending to the Dantian (elixir field). Here, lead and mercury (spirit and Qi) spontaneously unite like perfectly matched seal and impression.

True movement arises from supreme stillness, effective action from Wuwei (non-action). At the pinnacle, extraordinary phenomena appear: "white snow" (kidney water sublimation) and "yellow sprouts" (genuine Qi germination) proliferate, with dragon roars and tiger growls (yin-yang union) signaling unobstructed meridians and the formation of the Mysterious Pearl (inner elixir). The Niwan Palace (upper Dantian) generates celestial winds, the Crimson Palace (middle Dantian) shines with lunar radiance, while the lower Dantian glows warmly—the body becomes like limpid springwater.

The scripture emphasizes: when humans maintain purity, cosmic energies naturally converge. Achieving "three flowers gathering at the crown" (essence, Qi and spirit unification) and "five energies returning to the origin" (five organ energies reuniting) opens the gate to profound mystery. Continued practice nurtures the sacred embryo (primordial spirit formation), ultimately enabling physical transcendence to reach the supreme state of bodily-spiritual perfection and unity with the Dao. As Zhang Boduan (Zhang Pingshu) proclaimed: moments of genuine practice yield eternal liberation.

This passage employs rich metaphors to describe the wondrous transformations of essence, Qi and spirit during Neidan cultivation, highlighting how serenity and Wuwei lead to the ultimate state of heaven-human unity.

This scripture expounds the core principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. It begins by clarifying that the Dao serves as the foundation of cultivation and the basis of the "elixir" (Neidan) — much like being the source of the dragon and tiger (symbols of yin and yang qi) or lead and mercury (metaphors for alchemical ingredients). Here lies the convergence point of the Three True Fires, the repository of waters from all directions, the hall where myriad spirits pay homage, the birthplace of the Golden Elixir's miraculous functions, and the pivotal gateway for returning to life's primordial origin.

Upon comprehending this truth, one need not forcibly suppress desires — the heart naturally becomes pure. There's no need to strain for clarity — the shen (spirit) spontaneously brightens. When distracting thoughts cease, all illusions vanish. At this stage, the body feels light enough to ride the wind while the spirit roams the great void. Only then can one realize: the cool breeze and bright moon reveal lead and mercury's profound mysteries; green mountains and flowing waters display the dragon and tiger's true meaning.

Bai Yuchan (a renowned Southern Song dynasty Daoist) recounts his experience learning alchemical methods from Master Chen Niwan: At high noon or the winter solstice moment, one must open the Qian position (northwest), close the Xun position (southeast), retain the Kun position (southwest), and block the Gen position (northeast). Following the Tian Gang star while grasping the Big Dipper's handle, one pays homage to the Yellow Emperor, passes the Fusang Divine Tree, and enters the Moon Palace. Facing the Zhenwei constellation while raising the Huangzhong musical pitch, one rides an immortal raft across the sea to ascend Mount Kunlun. Wearing protective talismans (Tang Fu), one summons heavenly thunder, traverses the Wushan mountains, and calls forth the Yellow Child and Crimson Lad (Neidan terms representing vital essences). Gathering the green dragon's liver, white tiger's marrow, crimson phoenix's blood, and black tortoise's essence (all symbols of bodily refinements), one places them in the earthen cauldron (Dantian), activates the Mars star, commands the Ebo deity, and finally refines cinnabar.

The cultivation process involves opening the Hua Pool (mouth cavity), swallowing divine water (saliva), and ingesting minute doses of elixir (Dao Gui). Progressing from formless to formed, from insubstantial to substantial, through extracting lead (gathering true yin) and adding mercury (gathering true yang), one ultimately forms the sacred embryo. After ten lunar months of gestation when qi becomes abundant and form complete, a body beyond the body (yang spirit) emerges — this is called the "embryonic immortal." The essential formula states: Only through single-minded concentration can the original shen coalesce; only when the heart becomes like dead ashes can the internal Golden Elixir form.

Shi Jianwu (a Tang dynasty Daoist) wrote: "Qi is the medicine for longevity, the heart commands qi's spirit. If one masters spirit and qi, immortality is attained." When Bai Yuchan encountered this concise yet profound verse, he spontaneously realized the state of autumn moonlight illuminating empty stillness. Without achieving the meditative quiescence of withered wood and cold ashes, one can hardly fathom its profundity.

The text concludes with Daoist precepts: Withholding transmission from worthy recipients violates heavenly principle, while revealing secrets to unworthy persons leaks celestial mechanisms. Having searched the world without finding suitable disciples, yet fearing celestial punishment for careless transmission, Bai Yuchan worried about the Dao's disappearance and alchemical methods' extinction. Thus he composed this "Treatise Revealing the Mysterious Pass" to clarify profound principles and preserve the Neidan lineage. He adds that elixir cultivation requires "observing the eye with the eye, listening to the ear with the ear, regulating the nose with the nose" — referring to introspective observation and sensory withdrawal methods.

This passage discusses two main aspects: the methods of Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation and the realm of reclusive Daoist practice.

Regarding cultivation:

The practice begins with regulating breath and emotions. Close the mouth and breathe through the nose, calm distracting thoughts, and restrain anger and desires. This harmonizes the Water and Fire (Yin-Yang) within the body, balances Metal and Wood (the lungs and liver), and returns the True Earth (the spleen) to its proper place, allowing the Golden Elixir (Neidan) to form naturally. Through daily practice, Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy) will fill the entire body—much like Mencius’s concept of "nourishing the vast, flowing Qi." When the Qi of the five organs is abundant, a person embodies the Five Virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and sincerity; if primordial Qi is deficient, these virtues are lost. Simply by calming the mind, nurturing Qi, and maintaining an open heart, forming the Elixir (the fruit of cultivation) becomes effortless.

Regarding reclusion:

Bai Yuchan (also known as Haichan Jun) lived in seclusion atop Mount Ge. When asked about the joys of reclusion, he replied: Those who truly understand reclusion do not seek pleasure in the scenery of mountains but in the joy of the inner self. A recluse must unify mind and environment, undisturbed by external circumstances or inner attachments. The mountain is the mountain, the mind is the mind—there is no need to compare past and present hermits or different landscapes. True recluses pursue the genuine flavor of the Dao, not the mere novelty of mountains. In seclusion, they commune with the spirit of sages, revere De (Virtue), and devote themselves to cultivation.

(Note: Terms like "Water and Fire in Harmony" refer to the balance of Yin-Yang in Neidan; "Golden Elixir" denotes the energy body formed through internal cultivation; "True Earth" signifies the spleen, which in Neidan theory governs harmonization.)

This passage expounds on the philosophy of "true reclusion." The author argues that genuine seclusion lies not in external circumstances but in inner cultivation.

Many people today believe great hermits dwell in cities while lesser ones inhabit mountains and forests—a view containing some truth. When troubled by fame and desire, people naturally seek quietude away from clamor; yet after prolonged comfort when ambition fades, they again crave bustle and excitement. True masters maintain inner independence, preserving equanimity whether in secluded gardens or bustling marketplaces.

The crux is "hiding the heart" rather than "hiding in mountains." Authentic reclusion means cultivating the mind to remain undisturbed by external conditions. With inner stillness, cities become tranquil; with inner restlessness, forests seem noisy. Therefore, one must first comprehend the true meaning of Dao before retreating to mountains. Those who enter mountains without understanding Dao risk being beguiled by scenery and forgetting cultivation; those who first grasp Dao can focus wholly on practice, becoming oblivious to the mountains themselves.

Using metaphors of fish swimming freely and birds soaring, the author illustrates how true joy arises not from sensory pleasures or emotional gratification, but from a state of inner freedom. This joy transcends verbal description, requiring direct experience. Practitioners should maintain serene detachment, undisturbed by external phenomena—this constitutes the genuine path of reclusion.

Those who truly understand inner joy find the happiness of reclusion—a joy that has nothing to do with the mountains and forests themselves. They take purity and stillness as their place of cultivation, indifference and yielding as their practice, and easeful delight as their family and companion. They have no desire for worldly interactions and remain unburdened by external things. In refining their nature and nourishing life, they do not deliberately pursue bodily sensations; in harmonizing their form, they do not indulge in the desires of the five flavors. They regard death as they do life and treat possessions as if they were useless.

When they sit in meditation, clouds and streams accompany them; when they stroll, moonlight and wooded hills are their companions. They befriend deer and dwell among pines and bamboo. In spring, they have wild chives; in autumn, they have cabbage—this is their wealth. Morning mists and evening dew—these are their treasures. As for clothing, they weave belts from grass, fasten them with rushes, and stitch garments from thatch and fragrant herbs. As for food, they boil ginseng, consume poria powder, take pine nuts as their staple, and season with cypress leaves. They drink from cold mountain springs and eat the earth of the hills.

They walk before withered trees and sit in stillness beneath ancient cliffs. They dwell in the depths of forests and secluded valleys, reclining beneath towering pines and strange rocks. By day, they whistle by mist-shrouded springs; by night, they sleep alone in the depths of swirling mist. As for heat and cold, their hearts hold only the Dao (the Way), so they do not feel summer’s scorching heat; their hearts hold only the Dao, so they do not feel winter’s bitter chill. Even if frost pierces their skin, they remain as composed as pines and cypresses; even if wind and snow freeze their bodies, their integrity stands firm as mountain stone. The blazing sun may draw sweat, yet no irritation arises in their minds; though the outer world burns like fire, their hearts remain carefree and at ease.

I worry that in the clamor of bustling markets, dazzling sights and sounds may confuse our eyes, deafening noise may block our ears, and endless desires may unsettle our hearts. Once these enter our minds, they shake our resolve day and night. If the heart lacks steadfastness, it will be swayed by external things.

Yet the wilderness is no different from the marketplace—why? Because idle flowers and wild grasses can just as easily beguile the eyes, and the songs of hidden birds can just as easily disturb the ears. If you do not first withdraw desires from your heart but merely seek seclusion in the mountains, can this truly be called reclusion? The ancient sages’ intent in retreating to the hills was indeed this, but the way worldly people today withdraw to the wilds is not so—they are still ensnared by profit and empty fame.

This passage elucidates the Daoist cultivator's true understanding of "reclusive living."

The text observes that ordinary people remain trapped in the pursuit of fame and fortune, endlessly circling through human relationships and material gains, living and dying without awakening. They seek to atone for sins and beg blessings through wealth, yet never comprehend the underlying principles—this is precisely what troubles the sages. However, the sages' concern does not stem from personal anxiety, but from compassion for humanity; their reclusion does not mean hiding in remote mountains, but rather cultivating the heart-mind.

True reclusion is not about external forms: dwelling in thatched huts with bamboo walls, sleeping on grass mats and warming by pinewood stoves without feeling cold; residing by cool springs in bamboo groves without suffering summer heat. It means conversing and laughing amidst mist and clouds, resting peacefully through wind and rain, enjoying pleasures beyond ordinary comprehension, attaining realms inaccessible to common people. Using fallen leaves as paper, wildflowers as chess pieces, listening to pine winds as if to qin melodies, watching raindrops strike stones like drinking wine. Maintaining inner stillness akin to Zen meditation while cultivating one's nature with disciplined methods. Regarding tigers and wolves as domestic animals, summoning bears and panthers as servants. In solitude, howling like nocturnal apes; in leisure, floating like twilight clouds. Unbound by court or commoner's constraints, unshackled by circumstances or fate from one's aspirations.

Only such practice constitutes true reclusive cultivation; only such reclusion reveals genuine mountain forests. These mountains are not what ordinary people call mountains, nor is this person whom the mundane world considers human. Person and mountain merge into oneness; mountain and person mutually forget each other. Ultimately, both person and mountain manifest states of consciousness. Upon reaching the mysterious realm of pristine emptiness and tranquility, one transcends all distinctions between mountain and human. This state resembles moonlight shimmering on water or clear breeze whispering through bamboo—it can only be intuitively grasped, never fully expressed in words.

Finally, a visitor named Ziyuanzi expresses his wish to follow this path of cultivation. The author (Jade Toad Elder) laughs proudly amidst the pure void of wind and moon, presiding over his mountain-stream Daoist sanctuary. This passage from the Record of the Land of Constant Still Light reveals the transcendent state pursued by Daoist practitioners.

This passage depicts the transcendent state of an accomplished Daoist practitioner and an ideal spiritual realm. The essence is as follows:

The cultivator dwells in a state of serene Wuwei (non-action), nourished by morning crimson clouds at dawn and evening violet mists at dusk, enjoying perfect physical and mental ease. Transcending temporal constraints, he remains unaffected by seasonal changes, existing in a dreamlike state of blissful intoxication. The skies remain unobstructed by dark clouds, with dazzling morning light filtering through bamboo groves where cool breezes whisper. Occasional drizzles cleanse worldly dust as mountain hues blend with twilight waters where birds soar and fish dive. Soon the overcast clears, revealing perfectly temperate weather—warm as spring yet refreshing as autumn.

Above southern azure skies drifts a rainbow cloud bearing a mysterious Zhenren (True Person) wearing a carefree crown, treading the sandals of ultimate reality, clad in garments of emptiness, sustained by meditative bliss. His form eludes perception, his voice transcends hearing—even the legendary Mount Sumeru and Lushan pale before his stature, while oceans of wisdom cannot match his breadth. He moves like drifting clouds and flowing water, speaking through emerald bamboos and golden blossoms. This "Positionless Zhenren" (one who transcends all conceptualizations) proclaims: "Buddhas share origins with ants, celestial realms coexist with hells." He exhorts liberation from attachments to achieve non-dual awareness where form and shadow forget each other.

The text then describes an ideal realm called "Great Wisdom's Radiant Eternal Light Kingdom," containing prefectures like Discipline Province's Meditation County, the Township of Nothingness-Exists-Not, and Nirvana Village. The Zhenren reigns as sovereign here, dwelling in palaces named "Hall of Empty Mind" and "Tower of Liberation"—architectural embodiments of enlightenment. This pollution-free land knows eternal clarity where all beings share identical forms without social hierarchy or nominal distinctions. The Zhenren rides a jeweled chariot of five illuminations, unlocking wisdom's treasury to manifest miraculous powers. The kingdom's sublime majesty defies description, its boundless blessings immeasurable.

The Haichong Wendao Ji passage describes the wondrous journey of Master Chuang and the Perfected One (Zhenren) through celestial realms:

Together they wandered through the Mysterious Grotto beneath the Mountain of Wisdom, lingering in the Forest of Merit by the River of Compassion. They traversed the Gardens of Bodhi and the Fields of Formlessness, strolling through sacred cultivation sites like the Forest of Samadhi and the Mountain of Four Noble Truths. When the Perfected One prepared to return, they crossed the Sea of Equality instantaneously aboard the Boat of Prajna (wisdom). Seated in the Pavilion of Pure Serenity, they opened the windows of six spiritual penetrations, arranged courtyards of myriad transformations, lit incense of the Fivefold Dharma Body, offered celestial delicacies of six flavors, sipped the Tea of Eight Liberations, and drank from the Spring of Eight Virtues. The Perfected One revealed the Pearl of Five Eyes and the Seal of Ultimate Truth, established the framework of Four Meditation Marks, and lit the lamp of sensory awareness.

Suddenly the Perfected One vanished, and Master Chuang experienced sudden enlightenment: the Perfected One was none other than his original face. He exclaimed: "I am the Perfected One, the Perfected One is me!" Summoning the Four Treasures of the Study—Lord Brush (Guan Cheng), Ink Pine Envoy (Mo Song), Potter's Depth (Tao Hong, the inkstone), and White Rising (Bai Qi, paper)—he recorded the Ode to the Golden Elixir of Great Return.

The latter section expounds essential Golden Elixir (Jindan) cultivation techniques:

To transcend mortal form, practitioners must refine the Golden Elixir. Using inner alchemy (Neidan) terminology, the text describes the process: the Qian Horse and Kun Ox (Yin-Yang energies) guard the alchemical furnace, while the Kan Raven and Li Rabbit (water-fire balance) harmonize lead and mercury. Through the mutual generation and restraint of Azure Dragon and White Tiger (Wood-Metal energies), the three passes (Jing-Qi-Shen) transform within the celestial furnace and earthly crucible. Emphasizing the coordination of solar-lunar essences and the Five Phases (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water), cinnabar undergoes seven returns and nine cycles (purification stages) to become the Golden Elixir. The lead-mercury, turtle-snake, and rabbit-rooster imagery symbolize the Yin-Yang attributes of alchemical ingredients.

(Note: The text abounds in Neidan metaphors—the "Golden Elixir of Return" refers to the immortal elixir formed through internal cultivation, with each symbolic image corresponding to specific stages and principles of bodily alchemy.)

This passage from Haijiong Wen Dao Ji (Haijiong's Inquiries on the Dao) elucidates the essential principles and techniques of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice:

Immortal fruits like pomegranates, interlaced pears, and fire dates fill the celestial realms like swirling snowflakes. A refreshing breeze blows from the Purple Mansion (upper Dantian), while golden flowers illuminate auspicious herbs growing in the lower Dantian. I understand what elements to harmonize and where to gather the essential Jing (essence). The waxing and waning of Yin-Yang follow their natural rhythms, with each phase of fullness and deficiency arriving at its appointed time. We distinguish the pure from the turbid through the rising and sinking of Qi, and establish our foundation through the alternation of movement and stillness. Cultivating upright Qi requires focused concentration and unwavering commitment, yet maintaining plenitude demands softness and humility.

Few in this world comprehend these principles—many sit idly all day without grasping their profundity. Blessings can transform into calamities, just as misfortunes may turn into boons. The lunar mansions Fang and Mao mirror each other, their roles as host and guest interchangeable. As the handle of the Big Dipper rotates, the Dao remains wordless, yet Neidan practice is no mere technique. When the Mysterious Pearl (inner elixir) manifests, Yang lies concealed within Yin; when the Sacred Embryo forms, the Feminine dwells within the Masculine.

The text employs metaphors of ruler-subject and marital relationships to illustrate the harmonious interplay of Yin-Yang in cultivation. Celestial stems and earthly branches (positions like Ding, Gui, Jia, and Geng) indicate the proper timing and spatial orientation for firing techniques. The measurement and positioning of medicinal ingredients must align with the center, while fire regulation requires the precision of defending a fortress. Practiced thus, one's genuine Qi circulates like the Waterwheel, and oral fluids reverse their flow like divine waters. The movement of Qi-blood follows seasonal transitions, while the flourishing and waning of Shen (spirit) correspond to celestial patterns.

The scripture concludes by emphasizing: Zhenren (perfected beings) perceive the mysteries of the cosmos, holding mountains and rivers within their grasp. Since ancient times, Daoist cultivation has valued benevolence and righteousness; today we must further discern its fundamental truths. Amidst clear winds and bright moon, like a solitary crane's cry, these words remain for future seekers.

Appendix: Poem on the Great Golden Liquid Returning Elixir:

Using the Crow and Hare (sun and moon) as cauldron and furnace,

With Turtle and Snake (water and fire) forming the altar base.

Though appearing as idle practitioners,

Their hearts refine the Great Returning Elixir.

The White Tiger (metal) roars within water,

While the Azure Dragon (wood) spirals through flames.

Mercury and lead resemble flower buds in mud,

Metal and wood shine with snowy purity.

Li and Kan (trigrams) signify more than heart and kidneys,

East and west transcend mere lungs and liver.

Three cycles complete the Seven Returns,

Through Nine Revolutions it ascends from the Muddy Pellet (upper Dantian).

Song of the Pivot at Dao's Threshold:

Do you know how crimson bright the Golden Elixir glows?

Like an orange-hued pellet the size of a bullet.

In truth, every person inherently possesses it,

Each night filling the Divine Chamber (heart-mind) with numinous light.

This Divine Chamber is...

This scripture expounds the core principles and concrete methods of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice:

Within the human Lingtai (consciousness center) resides the immortal "Embryonic Sovereign," with its cultivation site called the Crescent Moon Furnace. The refining elements within this furnace resemble the Three Terraces constellation, where Yin and Yang pair harmoniously (one father matching one mother), ultimately achieving a balanced state of three Yin and three Yang. Practice must follow circadian rhythms (morning Zhun and evening Meng hexagrams), coordinating like ruler and subject, host and guest.

Symbolic language describes the refining components: the green-robed maiden (Yin energy) rides the azure dragon, while the white tiger (Yang energy) collaborates with the Golden Elder (original spirit). When the Five Phases (Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth) achieve harmony, one transcends the cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death. The foundation lies in cultivating the five virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and faithfulness, just as the five musical notes achieve natural harmony.

Practice follows temporal patterns: from Zi to Si hours (midnight to noon) corresponding to Zhen, Dui, and Qian trigrams; Wu to Hai hours (noon to midnight) matching Xun, Gen, and Kun trigrams. Kan and Li trigrams symbolize Yin-Yang communion, while Mao and You (sunrise and sunset) serve as energy gateways. Seasonal transitions (equinoxes and solstices) mirror the opening and closing of alchemical processes.

The true Golden Elixir medicine isn't found elsewhere—it manifests in daily functioning. The essence of alchemy lies in maintaining the original mind's luminous purity: externally it's not mineral substances, internally not blood or essence. Fire phases and medicinal ingredients are fundamentally inseparable—apparently tangible yet ultimately elusive. Practitioners maintain silent awareness throughout the day, ultimately refining the wish-fulfilling golden pill.

The elixir resembles imperishable true gold, merely obscured by worldly dust. Through countless rebirths, one must seize the opportunity for practice. Authentic golden medicine resembles gold in water—seek it carefully within the Jade Pool (Dantian). Gold and water balance equally, one floating, one sinking, with the Five Phases (Geng metal, Jia wood, etc.) harmonizing perfectly.

Practice requires mastering Yin-Yang transformations: at midnight Yang energy (golden crow) enters Yin (Moon Palace), with medicinal states resembling butter or wax. Metal essence and wood sap are inherently ethereal—gather them when tender, for aged material becomes useless. Fire regulation demands precision: excessive heat requires Kun earth for burial, while extreme cold needs Xun wind for activation. Movement dwells within stillness, stillness within movement.

Authentic lead (original essence) flows as gently as wind through willows; genuine mercury (original spirit) cleanses as purely as rain washing peach blossoms. The three passes (coccyx, spinal pivot, jade pillow) circulate like the Purple River Cart (qi circulation), while the nine cauldrons (key bodily points) shine like golden sand. Advanced practice manifests inner phenomena—turtles inhaling white snow, phoenixes pecking yellow sprouts—mirroring tidal rhythms with lunar phases. This constitutes the Golden Elixir path's methods of extraction, replenishment, advance and retreat, ultimately merging with primordial emptiness.

This scripture reveals the profound mysteries and process of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation. The key teachings include:

To practice Neidan, one must comprehend the creative patterns of heaven and earth, distinguish between Yin-Yang purity and turbidity, and master the subtle relationships of mutual generation and restraint. Seizing the creative work of celestial opportunities requires grasping critical moments—the month within the year and the hour within the day.

Neidan cultivation emphasizes balance: neither increasing nor decreasing, neither coming nor going, as natural as the waxing and waning of the moon. During practice, one must skillfully alternate between civil and martial fire (refinement techniques), harmonizing firmness and softness. While initial achievements may appear quickly, forming the elixir embryo requires a full year of fire regulation.

Complete cultivation undergoes the "ninefold reverted elixir" process, like thunderclaps startling ghosts and deities. The alchemical work demands the patience of a ten-month pregnancy—gradually gathering, refining, and coagulating—requiring three to nine years for full accomplishment. Upon success, one can manifest countless transformations with endless descendants.

The author recounts personally struggling to grasp the essence despite intensive study of classics like the Dragon-Tiger Scripture (Longhu Jing), until encountering a disheveled Daoist who transmitted the true formula. This master was none other than the renowned Bai Yuchan (White Toad Elder). Most seekers cling to superficial texts, unaware the genuine Golden Elixir path lies within their own bodies.

Concluding at Luojiang (a sacred Daoist site), the author offers this poetic guidance to illuminate the cultivation path. While immediate transcendence may prove elusive, practitioners can certainly extend their lifespans. Those with karmic affinity might ascend like white cranes soaring to azure heavens.

Notes:

1. Dragon-Tiger: Neidan terminology representing the body's Yin-Yang energies

2. Ninefold Reverted Elixir: nine progressive stages of internal alchemy

3. Civil and martial fire: regulating breath and intention with alternating intensity

4. Bathing: required rest periods during advanced refinement stages

5. White Toad Elder: sobriquet of Southern Song master alchemist Bai Yuchan