《長春真人西遊記》

Record of the Western Journey of the Perfected Man Changchun (Qiu Chuji), Volume 1

This travelogue was recorded by Qiu Chuji's disciple Li Zhichang. Our master, the Perfected Man Changchun, bore the surname Qiu and given name Chuji, with the courtesy name Tongmi. He was a native of Qixia in Dengzhou, Shandong. Before reaching twenty years of age, he renounced worldly life to cultivate the Dao, becoming a disciple of the Perfected Man Wang Chongyang. Later, he secluded himself for thirteen years in Panxi and Longmen, attaining the Dao through prolonged and arduous practice. In his later years, he returned to reside along the Shandong coast.

Prior to 1218 (the year of Wuyin), the Jin dynasty (then known as the Henan regime) repeatedly attempted to dispatch envoys to summon Qiu Chuji, but due to various conflicts, these efforts were unsuccessful. The following year, while residing at Haotian Abbey in Laizhou, envoys from the Jin dynasty arrived in the fourth month with an invitation from border officials. After being declined, the envoys departed with a poem composed by Qiu Chuji. Later, another invitation came from Kaifeng (Daliang), but upon hearing that Shandong was under Southern Song control, the messenger returned. In the eighth month of the same year, Southern Song generals Li Quan and Peng Yibin also extended invitations, which he likewise declined.

Faced with frequent summons from various factions, the Laizhou officials found themselves in a difficult position. Qiu Chuji remarked, "My coming and going is dictated by the will of Heaven, not something you can fathom. When it is time to stay, I will naturally stay; when it is time to go, I will naturally go." Not long after, Genghis Khan dispatched his attendant Liu Zhonglu bearing a tiger-head golden plaque inscribed with the words "As if the Emperor Himself Were Present, Authorized to Act at Discretion," accompanied by twenty Mongols, to extend an invitation. While Qiu Chuji hesitated, Liu Zhonglu said, "Your reputation spans the four seas. The Great Khan has expressly commanded me to traverse thousands of miles without regard for time, insisting that I must bring you back."

Qiu Chuji responded, "With the realm now torn by war and borders fragmented, your perilous journey here is truly arduous." Liu Zhonglu replied, "How could I dare not devote myself fully when carrying out my sovereign's command?" He then detailed his itinerary: in the fifth month, he received the imperial decree at the ordu (royal camp) of the Naiman Kingdom (an ancient Western Region state); in the sixth month, he met the Daoist priest Chang Zhen north of Baideng Mountain at Weining; in the seventh month, while in Dexing, the route through Juyong Pass was blocked, necessitating an escort from Yanjing troops; and by the eighth month, he finally reached the capital.

At that time, the Daoist community was uncertain whether Qiu Chuji could be persuaded. Only when the envoys passed through Zhongshan and Zhending did they learn of his whereabouts in Laizhou. Later, through Wu Yan and Jiang Yuan, officials of the Yidu Prefecture Pacification Office, they obtained specific details. Initially, they planned to dispatch five thousand troops to escort him, but Wu Yan and others dissuaded them, saying, "The people of Shandong have only just begun to feel somewhat at ease upon hearing of the Song-Jin peace talks. A sudden incursion by a large army would inevitably cause panic, and the Perfected Man might flee overseas. To succeed, it would be better to adopt a gentler approach." Thus, they instead sent Liu Zhonglu and a small retinue to proceed lightly.

This passage documents the pivotal journey of the Perfected Changchun Qiu Chuji as he traveled westward to meet Genghis Khan, recounted in modern terms as follows:

At the time, only a modest retinue was necessary—just twenty volunteers recruited to accompany him on horseback. As they approached Yidu (present-day Qingzhou, Shandong), Qiu first dispatched Yan Yuan to gallop ahead and notify the local governor Zhang Lin. Unexpectedly, Zhang Lin came out to greet them with a full contingent of armed soldiers arrayed in the suburbs. Liu Zhonglu, the envoy in charge of reception, remarked with a smile: "We're merely passing through to visit the Perfected Changchun—why the military display?" Only then did Zhang Lin dismiss the troops, and the parties entered the city riding side by side. This explanation was repeated along the route to reassure wary locals. Zhang Lin also provided post horses for their use.

Upon reaching Weizhou (modern Weifang), Daoist Master Yin Zhiping joined the entourage. By the twelfth lunar month, the group arrived in Donglai (present-day Laizhou) to deliver the imperial edict. Recognizing the difficulty of refusal, Qiu Chuji told Liu Zhonglu: "Provisions are scarce here—you should proceed first to Yidu. After we complete the Shangyuan Festival's (15th day of the first lunar month) blessing ceremony, we'll dispatch fifteen cavalrymen to depart on the 18th." Thus Liu went ahead with the others to Yidu while Qiu preselected nineteen disciples to await the appointed time.

True to their word, the cavalry arrived on the 18th. As the procession traveled from Weiyang into Qingzhou territory, reports surfaced that Zhang Lin had noted four hundred horsemen garrisoned in Linzi on the 7th day of the new year, causing public alarm. Liu Zhonglu immediately halted further military movements. By the second lunar month's start in Jiyang, local gentry and commoners greeted them with incense burners in the southern suburbs, Daoist priests chanting scriptures at the procession's head. During vegetarian meals at Yangsu Hermitage, all marveled at accounts of the previous month—on the 18th, a dozen cranes had flown in from the northwest, followed the next day by hundreds more, with one solitary crane circling above the hermitage. The very day these celestial cranes appeared coincided with Qiu Chuji's departure, leaving everyone awestruck.

In early February, Liu sent cavalry to announce that boats stood ready at Jiangling. When Liu arrived with troops on the 13th to escort them, he explained the delay: To ensure safe passage, they had first gone to Yanjing to deploy defenses between Xin'an and Changshan, then personally led forces to secure Shenzhou and Wuyi as passageways, even constructing bridges and boats at the Hutuo River. Qiu praised him: "Indeed, none but you could accomplish this." The next day they crossed the Hutuo northward, resuming their journey on the 22nd.

Two Daoist elements are specially noted here: The Shangyuan Zhaijiao refers to the first full moon's blessing ritual, while "feathered guests" (羽客) denotes Daoist practitioners. The auspicious crane sightings—interpreted in Daoist tradition as numinous responses (瑞应) heralding a Perfected One's journey—are recorded with particular significance.

This passage records the scene when the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji traveled west to Yanjing (present-day Beijing). Officials, commoners, monks, and Daoists from the capital all came to the outskirts to welcome him. The procession entered the city through the Lizheng Gate, with Daoists in formal ceremonial robes chanting loudly at the forefront. The local governor, Shi Mo Gong, arranged for the Master to stay at the Jade Void Temple (Yuxu Guan). From then on, many people came daily to request Dharma names and verses from him. Wherever the Master bestowed names, his Daoist disciples often avoided the calamities of war, demonstrating the protective power of his Daoist practice.

Official Wang Juchuan presented a poem to the Master, who responded with one of his own:

"Banners fluttering, horses neighing,

Gazing north toward Yan Mountain, crossing the stone bridge.

A journey of ten thousand li beyond the desert,

In early spring, abruptly parting from distant seas and peaks."

The poem conveys the emotions of traveling far westward and leaving the Central Plains behind.

When accompanying official Liu Zhonglu suggested selecting young maidens to join the journey, the Master sternly refused: "In ancient times, the state of Qi presented female musicians, causing Confucius to leave Lu. Though I am but a man of the mountains, how could I travel with young maidens?" This illustrates his strict adherence to precepts.

In early April, the people requested the Master to conduct a Daoist ritual (Zhaijiao: a purification ceremony) at the Temple of Heavenly Perpetuity (Tianchang Guan). Initially reluctant, the Master relented after earnest pleas: "Now that war rages endlessly across the land, the living are fortunate to receive your protection, but the dead remain in the darkness of the underworld and require deliverance."

As the ritual began, a drought of fourteen days was miraculously broken by heavy rain. Though the crowd worried the ceremony might be disrupted, the weather cleared by afternoon when the Master ascended the altar. The people marveled, saying, "To command rain and sunshine at will—only one of profound Daoist attainment could manifest such resonance."

The next day, while the Master expounded scriptures and transmitted precepts in the Hall of Precious Mystery (Baoxuan Tang), several cranes flew in from the northwest, drawing awe from the assembly. During the burning of ritual petitions (a Daoist rite to communicate with celestial deities), further marvels appeared.

Through these vivid scenes, the text illustrates the lofty virtue and heaven-moving spiritual power of Master Qiu Chuji, while also reflecting the deep devotion of the people to Daoist faith during that era.

Suddenly, a bamboo slip soared into the sky and vanished without a trace, while five immortal cranes circled and danced overhead. The attending officials marveled, saying this was a sign that the utmost sincerity of Master Qiu Chuji had moved heaven and earth. An elderly scholar from Nantang named Zhang Tiandu composed a rhapsody in praise of the event, and other officials responded with poems of their own. After completing the Zhaijiao (purification ritual), the pacification commissioner Liu Zhonglu accompanied the master on his continued journey north.

When the procession passed through Juyong Pass, they encountered a band of robbers at night. Unexpectedly, the outlaws all knelt in reverence and withdrew, declaring, "We dare not disturb the master." In the fifth lunar month, the master arrived at Longyang Temple in Dexing Prefecture to escape the summer heat. There, he sent a poem to the literati of Yanjing:

"Where does one seek the path to Daoist perfection?

Riding an immortal raft, east and west I roam.

Azure peaks piercing clouds—all wondrous realms,

While rain and mist over seas compose life’s home.

Though spirit-journeys span the cosmos vast,

The Way aligns with Sanqing (Three Pure Ones), never astray.

Even three thousand miles of Weak Waters bar the way,

In but a breath, I’d soar to immortal’s stay."

The poem mentioned figures like Sun Zhou (Chuqing) and Yang Biao (Zhongwen), fellow Daoist friends from the capital with whom the master often exchanged verses during his stay at Yuxu Temple.

Longyang Temple nestled at the southern foot of Chanfang Mountain, where the range harbored many natural caves frequented by hermits. Upon first entering the valley, the master was moved to compose:

"Roaming the gorge, my spirit soars ever higher,

Where jagged peaks and strange rocks spear the sky.

Not yet to Penglai’s immortal shores I’ve come,

Yet here I find a Daoist’s cave-dwelling nigh.

Pine cones dangle, dripping autumn dew,

Stone towers slant, bathed in twilight’s hue.

Suddenly I recall my old retreat in Zhongnan—

Gazing west, those mountains fade from view."

The elevated terrain offered sweeping views stretching over three hundred li to the southeast. A few miles east of the temple bubbled a crystal-clear spring, which the master often visited, writing:

"At noon I stroll against the wind, sun at my back,

Distant clouds weave through emerald peaks.

While countless households stew in summer’s blaze,

This icy spring’s chill pierces to the bones.

Northbound travels often bring tidings true,

East-marsh wanderings scorn fame’s chase.

Farmers and cowboys yield their shade to me,

After river baths, I loose my robe with grace."

On the Zhongyuan Festival, the temple held a sacrificial ritual. In the afternoon, the master transmitted Fulu (talismans and registers) and precepts to devotees—men and women, young and old—all sitting openly under the scorching sun without complaint.

This passage records the miraculous experiences of Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. Several extraordinary events occurred when they stayed at the Chaoyuan Daoist Temple in Xuande Prefecture (modern-day Xuanhua, Hebei):

First came celestial wonders—clouds formed a perfect canopy above the temple that lingered unusually long, filling all present with reverent awe. The temple's well, which normally supplied barely enough water for a hundred people, suddenly gushed forth abundantly for three consecutive days, providing sufficient water for a thousand. Everyone regarded this as a heavenly sign of divine protection.

During their zhaijiao purification rituals (Daoist ceremonial blessings), Master Qiu composed two lyric poems to the tune of "Heshengchao." The first described how Daoist temples differ from worldly places—their luminous clarity awakens one's true nature. The second portrayed the carefree joy of gathering with fellow cultivators in blessed grotto-heavens, where sitting in stillness beyond worldly cunning reveals one's fundamental truth.

On a tranquil autumn night, he wrote two quatrains: the first speaks of transcendence—how adepts rise above worldly disputes in the deep silence of midnight; the second describes how, beneath the hanging moon, heaven and earth dissolve into pure De (Virtue), merging with the Three Pure Realms (Daoism's highest celestial domains).

The Chaoyuan Temple stood at the northwest corner (qian position) of the city. Local commander Yila Gong constructed new halls and cloud-chambers to honor Master Qiu. When winter's chill arrived in October and painters wanted to postpone mural work in the Patriarch Hall due to cold, Master Qiu invoked the legend of Zou Yan whose virtuous breath could summon spring—assuring them that sages' unseen protection would bring warmth. Indeed, the weather turned unseasonably mild, allowing completion of the murals.

This passage records the journey of Quanzhen patriarch Qiu Chuji (Daoist name: Eternal Spring Perfected Being) traveling westward at the invitation of Genghis Khan. It was late autumn in the tenth lunar month, when frost already covered the northern lands though the weather remained relatively mild. The Khan's envoys, Alixian and Imperial Commissioner Wang Juchuan, arrived successively bearing the imperial decree summoning Master Qiu. The edict likened the Daoist master to Bodhidharma bringing Dharma eastward and Laozi journeying west to civilize the barbarians, instructing envoy Liu Zhonglu to ensure the Perfected Being suffered neither hunger nor hardship.

After consulting with the envoys, Master Qiu decided to postpone departure until the following spring when setting out from Longyang Temple, as the long northern journey required more preparation against the bitter cold. At their parting, fellow Daoists bid emotional farewells, while Master Qiu composed poetry contemplating life's impermanence and the sufferings of samsara. During winter residence at Longyang Temple, he visited Dragon Cliff Monastery, writing verses depicting post-snow mountain vistas—searching with his wooden staff for hermits only to find snow-blanketed crags, where sunlight danced on crystalline snow and pine-scented breezes carried through crisp air. In the twelfth month, he sent poems to fellow practitioners in Yanjing (modern Beijing), describing the perilous route ahead: crossing Wild Fox Ridge, journeying to Heavenly Horse Country, traversing the Yin Mountains' wastelands and battlefields—lamenting how an unenlightened mortal like himself must endure such trials.

The "Imperial Commissioner" (xuan shi) referenced was a Yuan dynasty official position for decree transmission. Longyang Temple and Wild Fox Ridge (in present-day Zhangjiakou, Hebei) were key locations along Qiu's historic route. These accounts vividly portray Daoist practitioners' fearless missionary spirit amid the harsh northern wilderness, preserving valuable historical details about the extreme natural conditions of the era.

This passage records the observations and reflections of the Eternal Spring Perfected Man Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. At a time of war and displacement, Qiu Chuji accepted Genghis Khan's invitation to spread the Dao in the Western Regions.

Before departure, fellow Daoists held a farewell banquet in the western suburbs. Clutching his horse's bridle in tears, they asked: "Master travels ten thousand miles—when shall we meet again?" Qiu Chuji replied: "With steadfast Dao-hearts, reunion will come." When pressed for specifics, he contemplated and said: "Return in three years, return in three years"—prophetically hinting at his mission's three-year completion.

Their February departure saw clear skies. Crossing the Wild Fox Ridge northward, they glimpsed the sunlit mists of the Taihang Mountains to the south, while northern vistas revealed only barren sands and withered grass, marking their separation from Central Plains landscapes. Witnessing battlefield bones, Qiu Chuji vowed to conduct Golden Register rituals (Jinlu, Daoist salvation rites for the dead) upon return.

Journeying through Fuzhou and Gailipo, they traversed alkaline wastelands with scant inhabitants. Five-day stretches through the Mingchang borderlands revealed only stagnant brine pools, rare travelers, and occasional returning caravans. The treeless terrain bore only sparse grasses and bare hills where crops refused to grow—vivid depictions of northern China's war-torn desolation.

At Xuande Prefecture's Chaoyuan Abbey, Qiu Chuji composed poetry comparing the human body to "a mass of foul matter" and worldly attachments to "the Three Realms' demonic disputes," expressing transcendence beyond mundane fetters. Throughout the text shines a Daoist practitioner's equanimity amid changing circumstances and profound compassion for all beings.

This passage describes the westward journey of the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji) and his observations along the way. Traveling through desert regions, they saw stunted elm trees, though the desert disappeared a thousand li northeastward where no trees were visible at all. By early March, they emerged from the desert and arrived at Fish Lake (in present-day Inner Mongolia), where signs of human habitation appeared—locals mostly lived by farming and fishing. Though it was already Qingming Festival season, the weather remained bitterly cold with lingering ice and snow.

A quoted poem depicts the extreme northern cold where ice persisted through March. The poet alludes to historical figures Su Wu and Li Ling to express his own aspirations—to wander freely like the ancient Daoist Lu Ao while pursuing the highest spiritual cultivation. On March 5th, continuing northeast, they observed the black tents of nomadic tribes who migrated with water and pasture. The plains showed not a single tree, only yellow clouds above white grasslands.

After twenty more days of travel, they encountered a sandy river flowing northwest into the Luju River (modern Kerulen River), its waters reaching horse-belly depth with abundant willows along its banks. Crossing the river and proceeding north for three days brought them to another small desert. By early April they reached the camp of Prince Wozhen, where snow had just begun melting and grass sprouts were emerging. Coinciding with a local wedding celebration, tribal leaders from within five hundred li arrived with fermented mare's milk as gifts—thousands of black carts and white tents stood in orderly rows.

On April 7th during their audience, the prince inquired about longevity methods. The master replied that purification rituals were prerequisite for such teachings. Though instruction was scheduled for the 15th, heavy snowfall forced cancellation. The prince deferred, saying the emperor had sent envoys thousands of li to request the master's wisdom, and he dared not preempt that mission—asking instead that envoy Ali Xian complete his duty first, with teachings to be received during the master's eastward return. On the 17th, the prince provided a lavish send-off with a hundred oxen and horses plus ten carts.

By May 22nd they reached the Luju River where waters pooled into a lake spanning hundreds of li. Wind-driven waves washed large fish ashore that local Mongols distributed among themselves. Traveling west along the southern bank, they occasionally foraged wild chives when hungry. At noon on the first day of May, a solar eclipse occurred—stars became briefly visible before sunlight returned. The area experienced dramatic temperature swings—cool mornings gave way to sweltering evenings amidst grasslands blooming with yellow flowers. The river flowed northeast between banks lined with towering willows that Mongols used to construct their tents.

This passage records the observations of the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji) during his westward journey. Traveling along the northwestern mountain ranges for sixteen days, they failed to locate the source of any river. To the southwest lay the Fish Lake Station, where Mongolians, upon hearing of the master's arrival, joyfully presented five pecks of millet. In return, the master gifted them a peck of dates, which delighted the locals so much they danced with excitement, claiming they had never seen such food before.

At the summer solstice, they journeyed westward for ten more days, measuring shadows about three and a half feet long (using ancient methods), and gradually encountered steep mountains. Westward from here, hills multiplied and settlements grew denser. The inhabitants lived in black wagons and white tents, maintaining a nomadic hunting lifestyle, wearing animal skins and consuming meat and dairy. Men wore their hair tied up hanging beside their ears, while women donned two-foot-high birch bark hats, often covered with dark brown cloth. The wealthy adorned their hat tips with red silk, shaping them like duck bills—these were called "gugu" and were strictly forbidden to be touched, requiring people to bow their heads when entering or exiting tents.

No written language existed here—important matters were settled through verbal agreements or notched wood tallies. People shared food collectively, helped each other in difficulties, obeyed commands without refusal, and never went back on their word, preserving the simple customs of antiquity. The master described this in verse: "Endless mountains and rivers stretch before the eye, where ceaseless winds meet flowing waters. In this world shaped by the Creator, people herd cattle and horses, drinking blood and eating raw flesh like ancient ancestors, wearing tall hats and tied hair—so different from Central Plains customs. The teachings of sages never reached here, leaving generations to live in untrammeled freedom."

Traveling northwest for four more days and crossing a river, they reached a plain surrounded by beautiful landscapes with lush water plants. To the east and west stood ruins of an ancient city, its street layout faintly discernible with architecture resembling the Central Plains, though no inscribed steles recorded its age. It was said to be built by the Khitans. Later, ancient tiles bearing Khitan script were unearthed, confirming this as a city established by Khitan soldiers and civilians who refused to surrender after the Liao Dynasty's fall. Locals also mentioned that Samarkand (referred to as "Xunsigan"), ten thousand li southwest, was the most prosperous city of the Uyghur kingdom and had once served as the Khitan capital under seven emperors.

On June 13th, they arrived at Long Pine Ridge, spending the night among towering pines and junipers whose canopies blocked the sky, predominantly growing in the northern valleys while sparse on the southern slopes. On the 14th, they crossed the ridge and forded a shallow river in piercing cold that even strong men could barely endure, camping in the open that night. By dawn on the 15th, their tents were rimed with frost. On the 17th, they continued...

It was the beginning of the "Sanfu" period (the hottest phase of summer), yet morning frost still lingered, and ice had already formed three times. The river was thinly frozen, with a chill akin to midwinter. Locals said snow usually fell here in May and June, making this year's clear warmth exceptionally rare. Patriarch Qiu Chuji (the Eternal Spring Master) renamed these mountains the "Great Cold Ridge." In this region, rain often came with hail.

The mountain path twisted northwest for over a hundred li before the terrain shifted again, finally opening to a flat plain. Here lay a stone-bottomed river channel stretching fifty li, flanked by cliffs plunging over ten zhang deep. The water was crystalline and icy, its flow producing a sound like jade chimes. Wild onions grew three to four chi tall between the cliffs, while pines soared over ten zhang along the streams.

Traveling west for five or six days, they passed unbroken mountain ranges where emerald pine forests crowned the heights. Winding through peaks, they marveled at lush woodlands and murmuring streams below. On the plains, pines, birches, and mixed hardwoods grew amid faint traces of human activity. Scaling a high ridge, they saw the mountains arch like a rainbow, with thousand-ren precipices overlooking a bottomless alpine lake ("haizi") that filled them with awe.

On the 28th day of the sixth lunar month, the party halted east of the "Ordo" (Mongolian for "imperial camp"). The envoy first reported to the empress, then conveyed her decree inviting the master to cross the river. The northeast-flowing waters spread axle-deep, forcing a perilous crossing before setting camp on the southern bank. Hundreds of tents sprawled before them, with daily offerings of butter and cheese. The Hanxia Princess sent provisions against the cold. Prices were exorbitant—one peck of millet cost ten taels of silver, while fifty taels bought merely eighty catties of flour, transported by Western Region merchants on camels from beyond the Yin Mountains over two thousand li away. Remarkably, no flies were seen in the Mongolian yurts despite midsummer heat.

The imperial carriages, pavilions, and tents of the Ordo surpassed even the ancient Xiongnu chieftains' grandeur. On the ninth day of the seventh month, traveling southwest with the envoy for five or six days, they frequently saw snow-capped peaks with burial mounds scattered below. A high slope revealed sacrificial remains. After two more days, they crossed a sheer-cliffed mountain dense with pines and firs. A lake lay westward; heading south through a great gorge, they found streams flowing west, their banks mirrored in water among mixed trees. Wild leeks flourished like fragrant grass for dozens of li. To the north stood ruins of an ancient city called Helaxiao.

Crossing twenty li of sandy wasteland with scant vegetation, they witnessed Uyghurs irrigating wheat fields—their first sight of such cultivation. Five more days brought them over southern ridges to a Mongol military camp. At dawn, they detoured southward again.

This passage records the observations of the Perfected Man of Eternal Spring, Qiu Chuji, during his westward journey. When they arrived at a perpetually snow-capped mountain (the Tianshan range), they composed poetry to document their travels. By late April, they had reached the vicinity of the Luju River (modern-day Kherlen River), already two thousand li from their starting point. Looking westward lay snow mountains that never melted, while to the east stretched about five thousand li to the Luju River—they wouldn't reach their destination until late July.

Along the way, they encountered postal couriers who informed them that north of the snow mountains stood the town of "Balhasun" (meaning "city" in Mongolian, also called "Granary Head" due to its grain storage) built by General Tian Zhenhai. On July 25th, Han Chinese craftsmen came to welcome them, holding colorful banners, ornate canopies, and fragrant flowers. Two imperial consorts (of the Tudan and Jiagu clans) along with Lady Yuan—mother of a Han princess who held the title "Revered Sage Lady"—greeted them tearfully, saying they had long heard of the Daoist master's virtue but never imagined meeting him in this remote land.

The next day, General Zhenhai came from north of Mount Abuhan to pay respects. The Perfected Man of Eternal Spring remarked: "I am advanced in years and have come this great distance only because the Emperor issued two imperial decrees. Seeing autumn harvests in these desert regions where farming is rare gladdens my heart—I wish to winter here awaiting the Emperor's return." Imperial envoy Liu Zhonglu said he needed to consult General Zhenhai, who replied that the Emperor's orders forbade local officials from delaying the Perfected One's journey. Staying would incur punishment, so he offered to personally accompany them to ensure all needs were met. The master eventually decided to depart soon after. Zhenhai advised that ahead lay high mountains and deep waters where carts couldn't pass, suggesting they travel light. Thus nine disciples including Song Dao'an remained behind to establish a Daoist temple, with local people volunteering help—the strong contributing labor, craftsmen offering skills.

(Note: The terms mentioned—"returning wind conceals the earth" refers to Daoist invisibility arts using wind; "grasping the Dipper to hide heaven" denotes astrological techniques for divining celestial secrets.)

This passage records the westward journey of the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji (Changchun Zhenren). When his entourage arrived at Qixia Temple (a Daoist structure), they witnessed local farmers hurriedly harvesting wheat due to an early frost. Suddenly, a fierce wind swept from the northern mountains, filling the sky with yellow sand. Moved by the scene, Qiu Chuji reflected on his lifelong wandering and composed poetry lamenting how, despite his advanced age, he still had to trek through dusty deserts. Though he had traveled across famous mountains and rivers, true tranquility remained elusive.

On the eighth day of the eighth lunar month, Qiu Chuji, accompanied by ten disciples including Zhao Jiugu and escorted by over twenty Mongol couriers, journeyed westward along the great mountains. The accompanying envoy Liu Zhenhai mentioned rumors of mountain spirits causing disturbances, to which Qiu Chuji remained silent. After three days of traveling southwest, they turned southeast, crossing towering peaks and deep gorges, finally arriving at the northeastern foothills of the Altai Mountains (Jinshan) during the Mid-Autumn Festival.

The Altai Mountains presented treacherous terrain, nearly impassable for carts and horses. Fortunately, the armies of the Third Prince (Ögedei, son of Genghis Khan) had previously cleared a path. Using ropes to haul their wagons, they managed to traverse four stages of mountain roads and three major ridges. Upon setting camp by a river south of the mountains, Qiu Chuji composed three more poems under the bright moonlight, depicting the autumn scenery of the eighth month, the majestic presence of the Altai Mountains, and the serene chants of the moonlit night.

After crossing the river, they passed a barren mountain of multicolored stones stretching seventy li, followed by two crimson peaks. This leg of the journey revealed the extraordinary landscapes of the Western Regions and the hardships of their westward trek, while also conveying the philosophical reflections of a Daoist practitioner confronting the forces of nature.

This account describes the arduous journey of the Perfected Changchun (Qiu Chuji) westward. After traversing thirty li of saline-alkali land, they found a small sandy well to draw water and rest, where the surrounding green grass had been trampled by their sheep and horses. The accompanying officials consulted with Zhenhai about the most challenging stretch ahead, who being familiar with the terrain suggested seeking the Perfected Changchun's guidance.

The Perfected warned them of the impending passage through White Bone Valley (an ancient battlefield where legend says only one in ten soldiers survived), a vast expanse of black stones requiring two hundred li of travel before reaching the northern edge of the desert where water and grass could be found. Beyond lay another hundred li of endless dunes (stretching thousands of li with no discernible boundary), with no provisions available until reaching the Uyghur city. Zhenhai explained this valley was a death trap—daytime travel risked fatal heat exhaustion—recommending night travel starting at dusk to reach the oasis by next noon, then crossing the sandy ridges at evening (where movement felt like sailing stormy waves), arriving at the city by the third morning. Mentioning local customs of smearing horse blood on foreheads to ward off evil spirits during night journeys, the Perfected Changchun smiled, replying that those aligned with upright Qi (vital energy) naturally repel malign forces without such precautions.

En route, they witnessed a remarkable silver glow on the southern horizon unfamiliar to locals, which the Perfected identified as the Yin Mountains. Verified next day, he spontaneously composed poetry depicting these majestic peaks "lofty as cloud vapor, pale as desert sands." On the twenty-seventh day of the eighth month, their Yin Mountains arrival prompted elaborate Uyghur welcomes—chiefs hosted them with grape wine, fruits, flatbreads, onions, and Persian textiles (each receiving one chi-length), while identifying this three-hundred-li piedmont region as Hezhou (modern Turpan, Xinjiang), renowned for its torrid climate and abundant vineyards.

On the second day, we traveled westward along the river, passing through two small towns where people lived. The crops had just ripened, relying entirely on spring water for irrigation to yield a good harvest, as rainfall was scarce in this region.

Continuing westward, we reached the great city of Beshbalik (modern-day Jimsar, Xinjiang), where several hundred local officials, commoners, Buddhist monks, and Daoist priests—all dressed in formal attire—came from afar to welcome us. The monks wore reddish-brown robes, while the Daoist priests' attire differed significantly from that of the Central Plains. That evening, we stayed in a lofty pavilion within a vineyard west of the city. The Uyghur king's tribe entertained us with grape wine and presented various exotic flowers, rare fruits, and precious incense. Performers from the Central Plains even staged dwarf plays and musical performances. The local people grew increasingly reverent toward their guests. At the banquet, monks, Daoist priests, and Confucian scholars sat together discussing local customs. They mentioned that during the Tang Dynasty, this area was the Protectorate General of Beiting. In the third year of the Jinglong era (709 CE), when Duke Yang served as the Grand Protector, his benevolent governance won the hearts of people from all ethnic groups, and his legacy of kindness endured to this day. The Longxing West Temple in the city still preserved two Tang-era stone steles, their inscriptions of meritorious deeds clearly legible, along with a complete collection of Buddhist scriptures. Ruins of Tang frontier towns were frequently seen throughout this region.

Several hundred li to the east lay Xiliang Prefecture, while over three hundred li to the west was the county of Luntai. Qiu Chuji asked, "How much farther must we travel to reach our destination?" The locals replied, "Another ten thousand li to the southwest." That night, a fierce storm arose, and a great tree outside the garden swayed violently in the wind. Inspired, Qiu Chuji composed a poem:

"Beneath the Yin Mountains we lodge at night,

The mountain's hush profound, devoid of light.

Clouds veil the vast expanse of endless sky,

While leaves upon the great tree rustle high.

Ten thousand li our distant journey lies,

Three winters' climate mild before us flies.

All worldly burdens now I lay aside,

Like drifting tumbleweed, I roam with tide."

On the second day of the ninth lunar month, we continued westward. After four days, we camped east of Luntai City. The chieftain of the Diexie tribe came to greet us. Looking southward, we could see three towering peaks of the Yin Mountains piercing the clouds. Qiu Chuji composed another poem for his traveling companion, the scholar Li Boxiang:

"Three peaks stand side by side, proud and tall,

Piercing the heavens, exuding chill for all.

Cliffs on all sides like painted scrolls unfold,

Winding streams through mountain vales are strolled.

Snowy ridges part the realms of man and divine,

Sunlit ice pools dazzle mortal eyes blind.

(Note: Gazing at the ice pools is said to cloud one's senses.)

Deep within these crags, refuge from strife,

(Holding fast here ensures safety in wartime strife.)

Abundant springs nurture crops with life,

(Springs below irrigate fields, yielding bounty each year.)

Foremost wonder of the northern wild,

Yet none with brush its grandeur has compiled."

Passing through two more towns, we arrived at the Uyghur city of Changbala (modern-day Changji, Xinjiang) on the Double Ninth Festival.

This passage records the observations of the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. At that time, Wang Weiwu'er (a local chieftain), who had connections with Zhenhai (a Mongol official), led people of various ethnicities and Uighur monks to welcome the travelers from afar. The group ascended a high platform for a banquet, where the chieftain's wife personally served grape wine and presented watermelons as large as pillows—their sweetness was unparalleled in the Central Plains. Although the local vegetables resembled those of the Central Plains, a monk present explained through an interpreter: "After receiving tonsure and precepts here, people only worship the Buddha as their master. To the east of this place was once Tang dynasty territory, but to the west there are no Buddhist or Daoist practitioners—the Uighurs only pay respects toward the west."

The next day, the group traveled westward along the Yin Mountains for about ten days. When crossing the shifting sands, fine grains blown by the wind surged like roaring waves—constantly gathering and scattering—with no vegetation in sight. Carts and horses frequently became stuck, requiring a full day and night to escape. This place was called the White Bone Wasteland. Heading south to the foothills of the Yin Mountains, they spent five more days crossing sandy terrain before camping at the northern slopes. The following day, they climbed a long southern slope spanning seventy or eighty li, resting only after nightfall in extreme cold with scarce water.

Later, after twenty li of southwest travel, a miraculous sight suddenly appeared: the Heaven Pool (named by the Eternal Spring Master), nearly two hundred li in circumference, was encircled by snow-capped peaks whose reflections shimmered in the water. Traveling south along the pool, they saw hundred-foot-tall pine and birch forests covering the cliffs on both sides—tens of thousands of trees stretched from mountaintops to the base. Through the valley rushed turbulent streams extending sixty or seventy li. It turned out that during the Second Prince's (likely Chagatai, son of Genghis Khan) western campaign, roads had been carved through mountains here, with forty-eight bridges wide enough for horse-drawn carts built side by side. They lodged in the valley that night before entering lush plains the next day, where spring-like weather prevailed and sporadic mulberry and jujube trees grew.

On the twenty-seventh day of the ninth month, they arrived at Almaliq (locally called "orchard" for its abundant fruit). The Pusuman king and Mongol dignitary (Dalahuji) led a welcoming party, settling them in the western orchards. Here they produced a fabric called "tuluma," woven from special wool—the Eternal Spring Master received seven bolts for warmth. This material, white and soft like willow catkins from the Central Plains, could be spun into thread and woven. Locals practiced agriculture by digging irrigation channels, but their water-fetching method was peculiar: they carried pottery jugs on their heads. Later, when they saw water-drawing tools from the Central Plains, they were astonished with delight.

This records the observations of the Daoist master Qiu Chuji (Changchun Zhenren) during his westward journey. When they arrived at a place called Taohuashi (referring to a Han Chinese settlement), Master Qiu documented this leg of the journey in poetry:

From the eastern slopes of the Altai Mountains (Jinshan) to the western foothills of the Yin Mountains, the rugged landscape was crisscrossed by deep ravines with rushing streams, their banks choked with boulders that had blocked passage since ancient times, making it nearly impassable for carts and horses. Two years prior, the Second Prince (Chagatai, second son of Genghis Khan) had ordered bridges built and streams cleared during his western campaign. Now, as our caravan passed through, we saw silver-white peaks rising like iron ramparts, their layered heights stretching to meet the azure sea at dawn and appearing to merge with the Milky Way under moonlight.

The towering pines along the route stood straight as bamboo poles, reaching over a hundred feet tall. Though the forests were lush, an eerie silence prevailed—no birdsong could be heard. The treacherous mountain paths rivaled the narrow goat trails of the Taihang Mountains, jolting our caravan forward while startling riders frequently. Atop the peaks, glacial lakes mirrored the heavens like hundred-mile-wide mirrors, and only after crossing forty-eight perilous bridges could we descend.

Though northern and southern mountain ranges vary endlessly in form, none compare to the uncanny grandeur here—jagged cliffs as if chiseled by ghostly hands. When we passed through in August and September, snow already blanketed the upper slopes. While spring-like greenery flourished on the southern faces, the northern exposures pierced us with bitter cold. Continuing west for four days, we reached the Talas River (Darasu mo nian he), its northwestward flow severing the Yin Mountain chain, with snow-capped peaks again rising on its southern bank.

After crossing the river by boat on October 2nd, we glimpsed a small walled town beneath northern mountains. Five days later, the imperial envoy went ahead to report, leaving only Lord Zhenhai (a Mongol official) to accompany us westward. On the seventh day, we encountered envoys from the Eastern Xia Kingdom in southwestern mountains, learning they had left the imperial court on July 12th—the Khan (Genghis Khan) was then pursuing Jalal al-Din into India. Heavy snow fell the next day, burying a Uyghur outpost under a foot of snow that melted at sunrise. On the 16th, we crossed a plank bridge southwestward and by dusk reached the great stone city of Linyia (Western Liao's capital, "Linyia" being the Khitan term for "Hanlin Academy") beneath the southern mountains.

This passage records the observations of the Perfected Changchun Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. The story begins after the fall of the Liao Dynasty: When the Liao was conquered by the Jin, a general named Dashilinya led several thousand people northwestward, taking over a decade to reach this land. The climate here differed from that north of the Altai Mountains (Jinshan), featuring vast plains where the locals primarily farmed, made wine from grapes, and grew fruits similar to those in China. During summer and autumn droughts, they diverted river water for irrigation, resulting in abundant harvests.

This territory stretched ten thousand li from northeast to southwest and had existed as a kingdom for nearly a century. After the Naiman Kingdom fell, Dashilinya's forces regained strength and occupied the region. Later, the Sultan (Central Asian ruler) invaded from the west until the Mongol armies arrived, leading to the downfall of both the Naiman and the Sultan.

During the journey, the party halted for eighteen days due to warnings of treacherous roads ahead and a broken cart. They then traveled westward along the mountains for seven or eight days until the range suddenly curved southward. Along the way, they encountered a red stone fortress with remnants of ancient garrisons. To the west stood large tombs arranged like the Big Dipper. After crossing a stone bridge, they followed the southern mountains for five days before reaching Sairam City, where the local Uyghur king came to greet them.

In early November, continuous heavy rains prompted locals to celebrate it as an auspicious omen. At this time, the Daoist master Xuijing (lit. "Empty Serenity") Zhao Jiugu told Yin Zhiping: "Since Xuande, I’ve sensed my time approaching. Though the journey has been arduous, our master taught us that cultivators must remain unmoved by life and death, undisturbed by suffering or joy. Now my time has come—you must serve our master well." Days later, Zhao Jiugu passed away, and Qiu Chuji instructed disciples to bury him in the eastern plains outside the city.

Traveling southwest for three more days, they reached another city where an elderly Uyghur king prepared ceremonial gifts and hosted them with noodle soup. The next day, they passed through yet another town. Two days later, they arrived at the Syr Darya River (Huohanmonianhe in the text, from Turkic "monian" meaning river). Its turbulent, muddy waters originated from two great snow-capped mountains to the southeast, flowing northwest for thousands of li. Beyond the river lay over two hundred li of barren desert devoid of water or vegetation. At night, they could still see the great snow mountains to the west, whose contours resembled those of the Samarkand region.

(Notes: "Jinshan" refers to the Altai Mountains; "Huihu" denotes the ancient Uyghur regime; "Xuijing xiansheng" is an honorific Daoist title for practitioners; "monian" is Turkic for "river.")

This passage records the observations of Master Changchun Qiu Chuji during his westward journey, rendered here in modern vernacular:

When crossing the southern mountains and witnessing their interconnected peaks, he spontaneously composed poetry in admiration: "The Creator's handiwork in these towering ridges defies description—east and west, the mountain ranges stand in perfect natural harmony. To the south stretch jade-like perilous peaks in unbroken chains, while northern slopes press upon the golden-sand river's vast plains. At their feet, springs nourish all things without end; at their summits, piercing the clouds, flows the purest Qi. Though I've traveled ten thousand li speaking little, before this vista I cannot help but sing aloud."

Passing through several Western Region cities, Uighur chieftains welcomed him from afar. In the southern city, they hosted a banquet with grape wine and had children perform acrobatics—pole climbing and sword dances. After two more cities, half a day's mountain travel brought them to a north-south oriented plain, where they rested under a giant mulberry tree whose shade could shelter a hundred people.

Along the way, they encountered an elderly Uighur man drawing water from a hundred-foot well using an ox-powered pulley (an ancient drawing device) for travelers' use. Genghis Khan himself had marveled at this sight during his western campaigns and exempted the old man from taxes. On the eighteenth day of the eleventh lunar month, they crossed a great river and reached the northern outskirts of Samarkand (then called Yemizigan). Mongol and Uighur generals including Grand Preceptor Yelü Ahai came bearing wine to welcome them, erecting lavish tents.

Accompanying official Liu Zhonglu advised: "I hear bandits have destroyed bridges a thousand li ahead, and winter travel is treacherous. Venerable Master, perhaps you should wait until spring to continue your audience with the Khan." Qiu Chuji accepted this suggestion. Entering through the northeast gate, he noted how this city built along ravines channeled two rivers during dry summers and autumns, diverting water through streets and courtyards for irrigation.

Master Qiu reflected: "At its peak under the Khwarazmian Empire, this city housed 100,000 households. Now after war, only a quarter remain—mostly Uighurs who, having lost their lands, survive by serving Han Chinese and Khitans. Within stands a hundred-zhang hillock where the Sultan's new palace once stood, now occupied by Grand Preceptor Yelü Ahai. When grain shortages caused Uighur unrest, the Grand Preceptor moved north of the river." When disciples voiced concerns about bandits, Master Qiu responded serenely: "Those who cultivate the Dao follow nature's flow in carefree living—even a blade at the throat brings no fear. Why dread unrealized dangers? Good and evil each bear their own karma, never truly hindering one another." Thus reassured, the company settled peacefully.

This account describes several episodes from the westward journey of the Changchun Master Qiu Chuji. During his travels in the Western Regions, he was warmly received by local inhabitants who initially offered him gold, which he declined. Instead, they provided monthly provisions of rice, flour, oil, salt, and fresh fruits and vegetables. Noticing that he drank little wine, someone prepared a hundred catties of grapes to make wine for him. The master, however, said there was no need to brew wine specially—these grapes could be saved to entertain guests. Remarkably, the grapes remained fresh even through the winter. He also encountered peacocks and elephants, which were unique to India (ancient India) in the southeast.

In his leisure time, Qiu Chuji composed poetry describing his observations: he set out in February and arrived in the Western Regions by October, where he saw towering Buddhist pagodas in the Uyghur cities (these pagodas had thirteen layers of brick carvings, appearing seamless from the outside but climbable inside). After traversing countless mountains, he still saw elephants roaming freely in the autumn countryside, while in summer, when there was no rain, the clouds did not follow the "dragon" (meaning no rainfall). He enjoyed the local delicacies—fresh vegetables, wheat-based meals, and grape wine—living a tranquil life of nourishment, rest, and spiritual cultivation.

The text also records an observation of a solar eclipse: local astronomers predicted it would begin during the Chen hour (7–9 AM) on the first day of the fifth month, reaching six-tenths obscuration before ending. The master recalled witnessing a total solar eclipse at the Luju River during the Wu hour (11 AM–1 PM), and later hearing of a seven-tenths eclipse observed during the Si hour (9–11 AM) in the Jinshan region. He cited the Tang Dynasty scholar Kong Yingda’s explanation: just as a fan blocks a lamp, creating complete darkness directly beneath but allowing light to filter through at the edges, solar eclipses appear differently depending on the observer’s geographical location.

Finally, the text records two of his inscribed Feng Qiwu lyrics composed in the palace. The first reflects his Daoist insights: spiritual awakening transcends time and space ("Dharma Realm" refers to the cosmos), and amidst the vast cycle of rebirth, he encountered the great Dao ("Nine Mysteries" refers to ancestral masters, while the "Three Pure Ones" are the highest Daoist deities). The second laments the cyclical nature of existence: the sun and moon move ceaselessly, the changing seasons witness countless rises and falls, and even the foundations of the Five Emperors and Three Sovereigns could not escape cycles of prosperity and decline—birth, death, and rebirth continue endlessly. These verses not only reflect a Daoist practitioner’s understanding of cosmic principles but also reveal profound contemplation on the vicissitudes of human life.

This passage records the observations and reflections of the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. In the first poem, the master reflects on his decades of devoted Daoist practice in the Eastern Sea (Shandong) and Western Qin (Shaanxi), where he maintained a simple life with only one meal per day and continued rigorous cultivation late into the night. Though his reputation had spread beyond the northern frontiers, it was ultimately the imperial summons from the great nation (Mongolia) that compelled him to undertake this long westward journey.

The second poem recounts his youthful quest for the Dao along the eastern seashore and his middle-aged seclusion in Longshan (Gansu). Departing from Henan like a yellow crane soaring high, he later found himself in the northern frontiers as if angling for a giant sea turtle (symbolizing a weighty mission). Though he traversed countless mountains and rivers, he recognized that striving with purposeful intent remained a form of worldly toil. Deeply aware of heaven and earth's vastness, he understood that without spiritual attainment (shentong), true transcendence remained elusive.

The text also details specific moments from the journey: during the intercalary twelfth month, the Second Prince of Mongolia (Chagatai) sent envoys to inform them the roads were blocked by heavy snow. The following spring, in the first month, they mistook the blooming oleasters (a Central Asian plant) for peach blossoms. By the second month's spring equinox, local officials invited the master to visit gardens west of the city, where they drank wine and discoursed on the Dao until sunset. The poems depict the expansive landscapes west of the Yin Mountains—snow-capped peaks appearing especially desolate after rain—while the approach to the Riverine Prefecture (modern Samarkand) near Qingming Festival revealed lush gardens devoid of birds, where the warm spring breeze carried a subtle loneliness.

This passage records the exchange between the Perfected Man Qiu Chuji (known as the Eternal Spring Master) and local officials during his westward journey. It happened to be the 15th day of the second lunar month, the Feast of Supreme True Origin (an important Daoist festival), when local officials invited the Perfected Man to visit the gardens west of the city. These gardens stretched over a hundred li—a scale rarely seen even in the Central Plains—yet were strangely silent, devoid of birdsong. Moved by the scene, the Perfected Man composed two poems:

The first poem reads:

At the Spring Equinox we meet this Daoist feast,

The day of Laozi's (Mysterious Origin's) descent comes ever slow.

Best enjoyed beneath the moonlit breeze so clear,

Or when clouds part and rains cease—

Roaming boundless gardens, quiet marvels to behold.

Though not fully fasting in ascetic practice,

Here we taste Wuwei's (non-action's) joy untold.

The second poem reflects:

Western relics greet us at each turn,

Yet my heart longs for old friends in the Central Plain.

Pavilions stand unchanged through years,

While flowers renew their bloom again.

Such beauty could make travelers stay,

But sunset urges us away.

Life's brevity comes to mind—

Why not seek Eternal Spring beyond the skies?

(referring to the Daoist realm of immortality).

In early March, the envoy Alixian brought an imperial edict from the traveling court:

"The Perfected Man has journeyed far from the East, traversing mountains and rivers with great hardship. Now that We have returned, We eagerly await his teachings. Pray, spare no effort to come."

Genghis Khan specially commended the envoy Liu Zhonglu and the escort official Zhenhai, dispatching the commander-in-chief Boluzhi with a thousand soldiers to escort the Perfected Man through the Iron Gate Pass.

When asked about the route, Alixian replied:

"We departed on the 13th of the first month, heading southeast for three days to cross the Iron Gate Pass, then five more days to ford the Great River. In early February, we traversed the Great Snow Mountain—where snowdrifts ran so deep, horsewhips couldn't probe halfway, and hooves sank five feet beneath. Three days southward will bring us to the court."

Delighted by this report, the emperor allowed a brief rest before departure.

Thus, leaving three disciples including Yin Zhiping at the lodge, the Perfected Man set out on the 15th of March with five or six attendants and the envoys. Four days later at Jieshi City, another decree arrived: Boluzhi was to lead a thousand Mongol-Uighur troops escorting them southeast through jagged, boulder-strewn peaks.

This passage records the westward journey of the Eternal Spring Master (Changchun Zhenren) Qiu Chuji to meet Genghis Khan. At that time, the army pulled carts for two days before reaching the mountains, then proceeded south along the river while the troops entered the northern mountains to suppress bandits. Five days later, they arrived at a small river. While crossing by boat, they saw dense forests flourishing on both banks. After another seven days, the boat crossed a great river (the Amur River) and turned southeast.

In the evening, they moored by an ancient canal lined with reeds unlike those of the Central Plains—the larger reeds remained green and unwithered even in winter, and soldiers broke them off to use as walking sticks. When laid horizontally under the cart shafts at night, the shafts pressed down without breaking them. The smaller reeds had withered yellow leaves but would regrow in spring. The mountains also held thick, solid bamboo, which the soldiers used to make weapons. They even encountered dark green lizards over three feet long. That day was the 29th of March, and Master Qiu composed a poem expressing his state of mind: though his pursuit of the Dao (the Way) remained unfulfilled, he feared demonic obstructions. Having bid farewell to the eastern shores, he journeyed westward toward the setting sun, seeing no signs of human life along the way—only oxen and horses taking turns pulling the carts, traversing countless mountains and rivers without knowing where he truly was.

After four more days, they finally reached the imperial camp. On the 5th of April, Genghis Khan sent the minister Harabod to welcome them. Once settled, Qiu Chuji immediately sought an audience. The Great Khan consoled him, saying, "You refused summons from other nations, yet now you have come from thousands of miles away—this pleases me greatly." Master Qiu replied, "This humble mountain dweller has come by imperial decree—it is the will of Heaven." The Khan was delighted, offering him a seat and a banquet. During the feast, he asked, "Master, having traveled such a great distance, do you possess any elixir of immortality to present to me?" Master Qiu answered frankly, "There is only the method of nurturing life, but no medicine for eternal life." The Khan praised his honesty and arranged for him to stay in two tents east of the imperial quarters.

The interpreter asked Master Qiu, "People call you 'Tengchili' (Mongolian for 'Celestial Being')—is this a title you claim for yourself, or do others call you this?" Master Qiu replied, "How would a humble mountain dweller dare claim such a name? It is what others call me." The interpreter pressed further, "What were you called before?" Master Qiu explained that he had studied the Dao under the Double Yang Master (Chongyang Zhenren, Wang Chongyang). His three senior brothers had already ascended as immortals, leaving only him still in the mortal world, where people addressed him as "Master" (Xiansheng). The Khan asked his minister Zhenhai, "How should we address the Master?" Zhenhai replied that some honored him as "Shifu" (Teacher), "Zhenren" (Perfected One), or "Shenxian" (Immortal). The Khan decided, "From now on, we shall call him 'Shenxian' (Immortal)."

At the time, the summer heat was intense, so they followed the imperial retinue to the snowy mountains to escape the heat. The Khan scheduled an audience for the 14th of April to inquire about the Dao, ordering the foreign envoys Tian Zhenhai, Liu Zhonglu, and Ali Xian, along with three inner court officials, to record the discussion.

This account describes the encounters of Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji) during his westward journey. As the scheduled return date approached, news arrived of bandits in the Uyghur mountain region, prompting the emperor to plan a personal expedition, subsequently rescheduled for October. The master requested to first return to his former residence, to which the emperor remarked that another trip would be too arduous. The master replied that twenty days would suffice. When the emperor asked about traveling without an escort, the master mentioned the presence of Yang Agou, an imperial envoy (Xuanchai). Three days later, the emperor ordered Yang Agou to lead over a thousand Uyghur cavalry as escorts, and they altered their route.

Along the way, they passed a great mountain where a stone gate appeared as if carved by wax, with massive boulders forming a bridge-like structure above a torrential river below. As the cavalry drove their donkeys across, some drowned in the rushing waters, while freshly slain corpses from recent battles littered the riverbanks—evidence of a recent skirmish at this strategic pass. Emerging from the gorge, the master composed two poems: the first depicted the perilous Iron Gate Pass and stone gorge, with sheer cliffs towering on both sides, raging torrents below, and corpses strewn along the path, lamenting when the decade-long warfare might end; the second described snow-capped peaks piercing the clouds, morning sunlight spilling into the valley, and the bitter May winds that, though chilling, cured his fever—prompting reflection on the timing of spreading the Dao.

When the master had his audience in March, the land was lush with vegetation and livestock were plump, but by April, when ordered to return, he saw withered grasses everywhere. He composed another poem on the region’s erratic climate: April, typically rainy, suffered severe drought; summer required irrigation, and vegetation withered as if in deep winter. Along the three-thousand-li journey, not even travelers’ clothes bore traces of rain. Later, they met troops returning from the western campaign and traded two yi of silver for nearly fifty coral branches (some over a foot tall, though slightly damaged from horseback jostling). Traveling day and night for five or six days, they finally reached Samarkand (the Hezhong Prefecture of the Great Stone Kingdom) on the Dragon Boat Festival, where officials welcomed them into the guesthouse.

The Travels of the Perfected Changchun to the West (Volume One) documents the legendary journey of Qiu Chuji (styled Changchun Zhenren, or Perfected Master of Eternal Spring), patriarch of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) school of Daoism. At the age of seventy-three, he undertook this extraordinary expedition to Central Asia at the invitation of Genghis Khan between 1220 and 1224, marking the first significant encounter between Daoism and the Mongol Empire.

The text meticulously chronicles Qiu Chuji's 10,000-li journey from Shandong province with eighteen disciples, traversing Hebei, the Mongolian steppe, and the Altai Mountains before reaching Samarkand (in present-day Uzbekistan). Their arduous trek through scorching deserts and freezing mountain passes is interwoven with vivid observations of Central Asian customs and cultures during the 13th century.

Of particular significance are Qiu's persistent efforts to impart Daoist teachings of "halting slaughter and cherishing the people" to Genghis Khan. These dialogues exemplify core Daoist principles of "tranquility and wuwei (non-action)" alongside the salvific ideal of "delivering humanity," while revealing the distinctive Daoist approach to political engagement during this historical period.

Beyond its religious value, the work preserves invaluable geographical and ethnographic records—documenting Central Asia's ecological environment, urban structures, and ethnic distributions—making it a crucial primary source for studying East-West cultural exchange. As a Daoist scripture, it simultaneously incorporates Qiu Chuji's spiritual insights and neidan (internal alchemy) practices during his travels, blending historical narrative with profound religious contemplation.

This passage records the observations of Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji during his westward journey to Central Asia, compiled by his disciple Li Zhichang. At that time, the imperial envoy Li Gong sent poems to fellow Daoists in the east, describing their westward route: They initially departed from a coastal city while naval conflicts still raged at sea. Undaunted by the great distance in their mission to propagate the Dao and De (Daoist principles), they traversed foreign lands through wind and dust. Their path led northwest across the Wild Fox Ridge, then gradually turned southeast toward Shangjing (the Liao Dynasty capital, present-day Balin Left Banner in Inner Mongolia), before winding southwest past the Yin Mountains (today's Tianshan Mountain range in Xinjiang) into territories beyond whose names were unknown.

The Eternal Spring Master's residence was built on a northern cliff overlooking a clear stream over ten zhang deep. The icy waters flowed from snow-capped mountains, remaining frigid even in midsummer. During scorching weather, the master would rest in the northern veranda to cool off, sleeping on the rooftop terrace at night. In the sweltering sixth lunar month, he bathed in the pond, demonstrating how one could adapt to circumstances even in such distant lands.

The fertile soil yielded abundant grains, though buckwheat and soybeans were notably absent. By mid-fourth month when wheat ripened, locals simply piled it on the ground, milling as needed until processing concluded in sixth month. Controller Li of the Grand Preceptor's estate presented melons from five acres of farmland—exceptionally sweet varieties unknown in the Central Plains, with the largest specimens reaching the size of a peck measure. When the two crown princes sent envoys to Liu Zhonglu requesting these melons in sixth month, ten were presented weighing approximately one dan (about 50kg). While fruits and vegetables flourished, taro and chestnuts were scarce. The eggplants grew as thick as fingers, with dark purple-black skins.

Local customs featured both men and women wearing braided hair. Men's hats resembled distant mountain caps, adorned with colored silk threads and embroidered cloud patterns, with tasseled ribbons hanging down—a style worn by everyone from chieftains to officials, while commoners wrapped six chi of white cloth around their heads. Noblewomen draped their heads with five to six chi of gauze in black, purple or embroidered fabrics, letting their hair hang loose—some encasing it in plain or patterned cotton bags, others wrapping it without coiling, resembling Buddhist nuns' attire. Common women's clothing also predominantly used cloth fabrics.

This passage describes the exotic customs witnessed by the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji during his westward journey. The local attire was particularly distinctive—white cloth sewn into funnel-shaped garments that were narrow at the top and wide at the bottom, with sleeves attached, called "undershirts," worn by both men and women. Their carts, boats, and farming tools differed in design from those of the Central Plains, while daily utensils were mostly made of brass and stone, occasionally including porcelain resembling Ding ware. All drinking vessels were crafted from colored glaze (glass), and weapons were forged from refined steel. The locals used holeless gold coins inscribed with Uyghur script on both sides as currency.

The people here were tall and robust, capable of carrying heavy loads without using shoulder poles. Married women could remarry if their husbands were impoverished or if their husbands traveled for more than three months. Surprisingly, some women even grew beards. The state had officials called "Great Stone Horses" who managed documents and records. During the last month of winter, they observed a month-long fast, where leaders personally slaughtered sheep at dusk to share with the community, feasting through the night. In other months, they fasted for six days each month.

The architecture was striking, featuring massive wooden flying eaves extending from the roofs, topped with pavilions adorned with tasseled pendants on all sides. Every morning and evening, the leaders would ascend these pavilions to bow toward the west, a ritual called "Reporting to Heaven." They followed neither Buddhism nor Daoism but would chant loudly from the pavilions, prompting men, women, and children to gather and kneel in worship. This custom was observed nationwide, and those who refused faced execution. Though clothing styles were uniform, people wrapped three zhang and two chi (about 10 meters) of fine linen around their heads, securing their hairstyles with bamboo strips.

The master recorded these peculiar customs in verse:

The lands of the Uyghurs stretch vast and wide,

Yet the cities by the river stand most grand and high.

Brass gleams like gold through the bustling streets,

While warriors' garb resembles Daoist robes so neat.

Gold serves as their coin, white cloth as their dress,

Their melons and fruits—rare tastes the Central Plains won't possess.

Even in summer, the snowy mountains remained cold, veiled in mist. Amidst these scenes, the master composed poetry depicting the splendor of sunrise over eastern peaks and the bright moon over the sea.

During his stay at the courier station, visitors were few, so the master passed the time reading scriptures. He wrote another poem reflecting:

Ten thousand li north of the Yin Mountains I've roved,

Half a year in the Great Stone Kingdom I've stayed.

Crude customs of these distant lands leave the Dao untold,

Only in quiet chambers and rocky caves can books be weighed.

In the seventh month, he dispatched his disciple Ali Xian to deliver a memorial to the imperial camp. On the eighth day of the eighth month, he received a reply and set off immediately.

(Note: Some illegible characters in the original are marked with □, while certain ancient place names and object names retain their original terms.)

When the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji) bid farewell to the Grand Preceptor who had escorted him, the official accompanied him for dozens of li. The Master reminded him: "Two thousand households east of the Uighur city have recently rebelled—every night the city walls glow crimson with firelight, and the people are terrified. The Grand Preceptor should return to pacify them." The official worried, "But what if something happens on my journey back?" The Master replied, "How could that possibly be your responsibility?" So the Grand Preceptor turned back.

On the twelfth day, the caravan passed through Jieshi City. By the thirteenth day, they had acquired an escort of a thousand infantry and three hundred armored cavalry to enter the depths of the great mountains—this was an alternate perilous route circumventing the Iron Gate Pass. Crossing Red Water Gorge, they saw sheer cliffs towering several li high. At the southeastern foothills, a salt spring gushed forth; its waters crystallized into white salt under the sun's heat, and they gathered two pecks for their journey.

Continuing southeast over the mountain divide, they gazed westward into the deep ravine where what appeared to be glistening ice crystals were actually natural salt deposits. The mountains also yielded red salt, hard as stone, which the Master personally tasted to verify. Unlike the Central Plains where salt only came from lowland marshes, these western regions produced it in mountainous terrain. The Uighurs mainly ate flatbreads and craved salt intensely—when thirsty they drank water, and in winter's depth, impoverished folk could still be seen peddling salt from shoulder-borne jars.

On the fourteenth day, they reached the southwestern foothills of Iron Gate Pass. Just as they were about to exit the mountains, danger struck: a collapsing cliff to their left blocked the gorge stream, creating a treacherous undercurrent stretching over a li. By mid-autumn festival, they arrived at a great river whose torrents rivaled the Yellow River's fury. After ferrying across, they camped on the southern bank. To the west stood a formidable mountain stronghold called "Tuanbala," where they encountered Imperial Physician Zheng, attendant to the Third Prince, who composed poetry celebrating the mid-autumn moon and yearning for an era of peace without weapons.

Following the river southeast for thirty li until the watercourse vanished, they traversed the deserted Balikchik City by night (its inhabitants having recently fled—only barking dogs remained). After dining at dawn, they pressed eastward until finding a shallow north-flowing crossing where horses could barely ford, resting afterward on the eastern shore.

On the twenty-second day, Tian Zhenhai came to greet them. Upon reaching the imperial camp, the Khan's envoy inquired: "Does the Master wish for immediate audience or prefers to rest first?" The Master expressed eagerness for an audience, clarifying that Daoist adepts need not perform full prostrations before rulers—upon entering the tent, he simply bowed with palms joined. During the audience, he was offered fermented mare's milk wine, and when taking leave, the emperor thoughtfully inquired about provisions in the city.

This account describes the encounter between the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji (patriarch of the Quanzhen lineage of Daoism) and Genghis Khan during his westward journey. At the time, the Taishi (high-ranking official) of the Mongol Uyghurs was responsible for food provisions, but supplies began running short, leaving the Taishi to shoulder this duty alone. The next day, Genghis Khan sent his attendant Hezhu to convey an inquiry—would the master be willing to dine daily at the imperial tent? Qiu Chuji replied that as a mountain-dwelling Daoist cultivator, he preferred tranquility, and the Great Khan respected his wishes.

On the first day of the ninth lunar month, as the imperial retinue traveled northward, the Khan repeatedly bestowed gifts of grape wine, melons, and fruits. On the fifteenth of that month, Genghis Khan prepared a fasting tent, dismissed his attendants, and summoned Qiu Chuji alone by candlelight. Initially, only the minister Zhenhai and the envoy Liu Zhonglu waited outside, but at Qiu's suggestion, these two officials—who had escorted him across thousands of miles—were also permitted to enter and listen to the teachings. The Eternal Spring Master's discourse, translated into Mongolian by Taishi Ahai, deeply pleased the Khan. Later, Qiu was summoned twice more to expound on the Dao, with the Khan specifically ordering the teachings to be recorded in Chinese characters and instructing that these longevity methods remain secret.

By the tenth month, they reached the great city of Samarkand (Yemisigan), where Qiu requested permission to return to his former dwelling. On the sixth day of that month during an audience, the Khan asked whether the area should be cleared, but Qiu indicated it was unnecessary. Through Ahai, he conveyed that after decades of cultivation in solitude, the clamor of soldiers and horses outside the imperial tent disturbed his practice, and he wished to arrange his movements freely. The Khan consented and even sent someone to inquire whether he needed mounts, which Qiu politely declined.

During this early winter season, a light rain revived patches of green grass. Qiu distributed surplus grain to the starving and established gruel kitchens that saved many lives. This record illustrates both the Daoist practitioner's commitment to serene self-discipline and the Mongol ruler's respectful treatment of him.

This account describes the dialogue between the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji and Genghis Khan during his westward journey, along with subsequent travels.

On the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month, as they pressed onward, the bitter cold claimed the lives of many oxen and horses. Three days later, they crossed the Huochan Monan River (a great river) eastward, and at midnight, they heard that the pontoon bridge had collapsed. When Genghis Khan inquired about the phenomenon of thunder, Qiu Chuji replied, "I have heard that the local people refrain from bathing or washing clothes in the river during summer, avoid making felt, and are forbidden to pick wild mushrooms—all out of fear of Heaven’s might. Yet this is not the true way of revering Heaven. I have heard that no crime is greater than filial impiety, and thunder may well be Heaven’s warning against the unfilial." The Great Khan was deeply moved by this response and ordered scribes to record these teachings in Uighur script, summoning the crown prince, nobles, and ministers to receive his admonitions.

At the beginning of the first lunar month the following year, officials celebrated Qiu Chuji’s birthday. On the twenty-eighth day of the first month, when Li Gong of the Grand Preceptor’s residence took his leave, Qiu Chuji predicted that he would return eastward between the second and third months. On the seventh day of the second month, Qiu Chuji requested an audience with the Great Khan to seek permission for his homeward journey, mentioning that three years prior, upon leaving the coast, he had foretold his return after this period. The Khan expressed his wish to accompany him, but Qiu Chuji asked to depart first. On the eighth day, while hunting in the eastern mountains, the Great Khan felled a massive quarry.

This passage illustrates how Qiu Chuji used natural phenomena to counsel filial piety, offering insight into his interactions with Mongol nobility while documenting the arduous winter journey of the westward expedition.

This account records the story of how the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji journeyed westward to meet Genghis Khan and offered him counsel. During one of the Khan's hunting expeditions, an incident occurred—startled horses bolted out of control while wild boars stood frozen nearby, not daring to advance. Only when attendants rushed forward to rein in the horses did the chaos subside.

Upon hearing of this, Qiu Chuji entered the palace to admonish the ruler: "The Dao of Heaven (Tian Dao) honors life. Now that Your Majesty is advanced in years, you should reduce hunting. This fall from your horse was Heaven's warning, and the boars' refusal to advance was Tianyi (Heaven's intent) protecting you." Genghis Khan responded: "I have deeply reflected on this. The Zhenren's (Perfected Person's) advice is most correct. But we Mongols have practiced horsemanship and archery since childhood—it is difficult to abandon completely. Still, I shall engrave the Zhenren's words in my heart." He specifically instructed his officer Jisilidalaha: "Henceforth, we must all heed the Zhenren's admonitions."

For two months afterward, Genghis Khan abstained from hunting. On the twenty-fourth day, when Qiu Chuji again requested permission to depart, the Great Khan said: "If the Zhenren must leave, what reward would be fitting? Let me consider this—please wait a few more days." By the seventh day of the third lunar month, when Qiu took final leave, Genghis Khan offered oxen and horses as gifts, all of which the Daoist master declined except for post horses to facilitate his journey.

Before departure, Genghis Khan issued a special decree exempting all of Qiu Chuji's disciples from taxes and corvée labor. He appointed the Hexi official Alixian as an imperial envoy, assisted by the Mongol general Halahai, to escort the Zhenren eastward. On the day of departure, officials including Dalaha accompanied them for dozens of li with wine and rare fruits, many shedding tears at parting.

During the journey through Sairam City, locals spoke of two-headed snakes in the eastern mountains. In Almalik, the craftsman Zhang Gong under the Second Prince specially invited Qiu Chuji, reporting that his four hundred disciples practiced morning and evening devotions without fail. This record vividly illustrates how Qiu Chuji employed the Daoist philosophy of "valuing life" (Guisheng) to counsel rulers, and the reverence he commanded throughout Central Asia.

This passage records the observations of the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji) during his westward journey. When the group prepared to cross a river, the followers earnestly requested the master's guidance, but he explained they could not detour as their karmic connection with the south was nearing its end. The next day, the master's horse suddenly bolted northeastward uncontrollably. As Zhang Gong and others wept over their inability to restrain it, they recognized this as heaven's decree preventing them from accompanying him further.

After traversing the Yin Mountains and crossing forty-eight bridges, the party followed a mountain stream for fifty li until reaching the Heavenly Pool Lake. Traveling northeast across the Yin Mountains took two days before they connected with the Yuan dynasty's post road. In late April, they encountered heavy snowfall that blanketed the entire range in white. Continuing northeast along the mountains for three more days, they arrived at Mount Abuhan, where disciples like Song Dao'an and nine others—accompanied by devotees from the Jade Flower Assembly—greeted them from afar. They settled at the Lodge of Misty Dawn, where increasing numbers came to take refuge in the Dao.

The region suffered from arid conditions with scant summer rains, yet upon the master's arrival, continuous downpours blessed the land—a phenomenon the people attributed to the transformative power of his Daoist practice. Crops ripened late here, with wheat harvests only possible by the eighth month, often plagued by white field mice. In May, thick ice still lay beneath the riverbanks, which locals harvested to relieve summer heat. To the south stood perpetually snow-capped peaks, while by the western lakeshore lay the Wind Tumulus—a peculiar vortex source that spawned whirlwinds each second and third month. These began as countless twisting dust devils before merging into violent sandstorms that sent stones flying. Beyond the southeastern mountain gullies stood watermills, though the streams gradually vanished upon reaching the plains. The mountains yielded coal deposits, while two springs swelled dramatically in winter like rivers before mysteriously receding underground, occasionally surfacing with fish and shrimp in their sudden surges.

This passage records the observations and experiences of the Perfected Man of Eternal Spring, Qiu Chuji, during his westward journey. I will explain it section by section:

Northwest of the Jianjian region (a Central Asian place name) they passed through lay a gradually thawing permafrost zone, where high-quality iron ore and blue squirrel pelts were produced, along with barley cultivation. Several hundred Han Chinese artisans resided there, skilled in weaving fine silks and brocades. Looking southwest from the Daoist temple, one could see the Golden Mountains (Altai Range), which frequently experienced hailstorms—even heavy snowfall as late as May or June, with accumulated snow over ten feet deep.

In the desert areas grew cistanche (a precious medicinal herb), locally called "suoyan." The people referred to water as "wusu" and grass as "aibusu." On the shaded slopes of deep mountains stood pine trees reaching a hundred feet tall. A disciple reported to Qiu Chuji: "This remote region has never received orthodox teachings since ancient times—only mountain spirits and ghosts deceiving the people. But since Master established this temple and performed zhaijiao (Daoist purification rituals), holding monthly ceremonies on the first and fifteenth days, the locals have begun abstaining from killing. Without your teachings, how could such transformation occur?"

Previously in the Renwu year (1222), an incident occurred: A Daoist's misconduct led to false accusations that unsettled the community. While Song Dao'an was napping in the abbot's quarters, he suddenly saw through the skylight the apparition of Master Xuijing Zhao Jiugu (a deceased fellow Daoist) announcing: "A letter has arrived." When asked its origin, the spirit replied: "From the heavens." Upon receiving it, only the characters "Taiqing" (one of the Three Pure Realms in Daoism) appeared before vanishing. The next day, Qiu Chuji's letter indeed arrived, and the disturbances gradually subsided.

There was also a physician named Luo who maliciously slandered the Daoist community until one day he fell from his horse outside the temple, breaking his leg. He immediately repented, saying: "This is my retribution," and voluntarily apologized to the assembly.

Before returning east, Qiu Chuji composed these instructions:

"Riding official steeds ten thousand miles,

Three years parted from old friends.

While conflict still spreads unrest,

The Dao and De find fleeting voice."

As spring waned, homesickness grew intense, though disciples dared not speak openly. Their Central Asian guide Alixian and others reported: "The southern route has stony deserts scarce in water and grass—the exhausted envoy's horses may delay progress." Qiu Chuji arranged: "Depart in three groups so my disciples won't face hardship."

The specific plan was: On May 7th, Song Dao'an and five others would leave first; fourteen days later, Qiu Chuji would lead Yin Zhiping's group of six. At their farewell, dozens including the Jurchen noblewoman Jiagu Fei, official Guo Xuancha, and commander Li Wanhu escorted them twenty li, dismounting to kneel and weep before Qiu Chuji finally urged his horse onward.

Ma Yu (disciple of Elder Qiu Chuji, the Eternal Spring Master) led the group's rapid advance for eighteen days before the five disciples—Zhang Zhisu, Sun Zhijian, Zheng Zhixiu, Zhang Zhiyuan, and Li Zhichang—gradually caught up. Qiu Chuji continued eastward for sixteen more days, crossing a snow-capped mountain in bitter cold. They exchanged horses at a felt tent (nomadic dwelling). On the seventeenth day, Qiu had no appetite, consuming only occasional broth.

The party traversed vast deserts southeastward, occasionally encountering patches of vegetation teeming with mosquitoes. They camped by the eastern riverbank at night. Days later, Qiu alternated between riding in a carriage. Disciple Yin Zhiping, noticing his master's discomfort, inquired about his ailment. Qiu replied, "My illness cannot be cured by ordinary medicine—it arises from the trials of sages [referring to spiritual tempering in Daoist cultivation]." That evening, Yin dreamed of someone assuring him: "Do not worry about the master’s condition; it will heal upon reaching Han territory."

After crossing another 300 li of barren wasteland with scarce water and grass, the horses traveled day and night. Two days later, they reached the northern frontier of Western Xia, where nomadic tents grew more frequent, allowing them to replenish horses as the trailing group finally rejoined. On the night of June 21st at Yuyang Pass, Qiu still had no appetite. The next day, after traveling 50 li east past the checkpoint, they were greeted by the Marshal of Fengzhou, while the envoy Yu Gong invited them to his home, serving hot noodle soup. Qiu’s appetite returned remarkably that day, and he soon resumed his usual ascetic diet. The disciples marveled: "Qinghe [Yin Zhiping’s Daoist name]’s prophetic dream has indeed come true."

As summer waned, cool breezes swept through. Yu Gong brought silkworm-paper requesting calligraphy, to which Qiu inscribed a poem:

"Leisurely dwelling, free of clutter,

I watch birds roost till dawn’s murmur.

Though sleep eludes, the mind stays clear—

Clouds part, moonlit streams appear.

Fresh qi sharpens spirit bright;

True cultivation needs no forced rite.

The work unfolds in nature’s light."

On July 3rd, they arrived at Xiashui City, where Marshal Jiagu welcomed them outside the walls, lodging them in his estate. Nearly a thousand visitors came to pay respects, and the marshal’s reverence deepened daily. One evening, Qiu released birds intended for cooking outside the city. Watching them soar freely over lake waves, he improvised:

"Meant for feasts, you’d grace our board,

Yet mercy urged me to restore.

Sent afar to whale-tossed sea,

Wait till autumn wings soar free."

He added:

"Brothers three or five in flight,

Feathers thin, await autumn’s height.

Returned to azure depths untold,

Vast waves embrace you, bold and cold."

On the second day, the journey continued, and on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, they arrived at Yunzhong (modern-day Datong, Shanxi). The local administrator Akebu, along with Daoist devotees, came out of the city to welcome them. They carried the Elder Qiu (Changgeng Zhenren) into the official residence in a palanquin (a nobleman's sedan chair in ancient times), where he stayed in a pavilion for over twenty days. Officials below the rank of administrator came daily at dawn and dusk to pay respects and seek guidance, while local literati also frequently visited for teachings. The Zhenren composed a poem as a gift:

"By decree, I return home early,

While spring’s creative force thrives.

When the Three Yangs (the initial rise of Yang Qi after the winter solstice) begin their transformation,

Heaven and Earth’s primal Qi harmonizes naturally.

Post-horses carry me onward step by step,

Even deep in cloud-wrapped mountains, all is tranquil.

The capital lies ten thousand miles away—

What does it matter if I return to my homeland?"

On the thirteenth day of the ninth month, the envoy Alixian prepared to go to Shandong to pacify the people and earnestly requested that the Zhenren send his disciple Yin Zhiping to accompany him. The Zhenren replied, "Heaven’s will does not yet permit it—what use would it be to go?" Alixian repeatedly bowed and pleaded, "If the court sends a great army to suppress them, the people will surely suffer. I beg the master to show compassion." After a long silence, the Zhenren said, "Even if we cannot fully save them, it is still better than watching them perish." Thus, he dispatched Qinghe Zhenren (Yin Zhiping’s Daoist name) to accompany Alixian, entrusting them with two edicts of pacification.

At this time, news arrived that Daoist followers from Xuande (modern-day Xuanhua, Hebei) and regions further south were coming in great numbers to pay homage. Concerned that his disciples might struggle to receive them all, the Zhenren personally wrote instructions for Yin Zhiping:

"Having journeyed ten thousand miles and been away for three years,

Many cultivators have grown lax in discipline.

Upon your arrival, rectify this immediately—

Do not let the reputation of our tradition suffer.

The blessings of sentient beings are shallow, and they easily fall—

Just as climbing a mountain is hard, but descending is easy."

The Xuande commander, Yila Gong, sent a messenger with a letter to Yunzhong, returning the Zhenren’s horse to him.

They set out eastward in the eighth month, passing through Yanghe, Baideng, Tiancheng, and Huaian, crossing the Kui River, and arriving in Xuande after twelve days. The commander led an honor guard to greet them solemnly outside the western suburbs of the city and arranged for the Zhenren to stay at the Chaoyuan Temple in the prefectural capital. Fellow Daoists reverently made offerings, and the Zhenren composed a forty-character reflection:

"Ten thousand miles wandering the mortal realm,

Three years parted from my homeland.

Looking back, this body is already frail—

Past events stretch long like dreams.

Vast and boundless is the sky,

Chaotic and fleeting are worldly affairs.

Whether in Jiangnan or beyond the frontier,

The cycles of past and present remain the same."

The Daoist community also spoke of how, the previous winter, someone had seen Master Zhao (Zhao Daojian, Qiu Chuji’s senior disciple) leading a horse through the temple gate. When they went out to greet him, he suddenly vanished. Devotees in Dexing, Anding, and other places also claimed to have seen him. Officials, generals, and commoners from across Hebei sent letters inviting the Zhenren, a testament to his far-reaching influence.

(Note: The text retains historical titles like "envoy" (宣差) from the Jin-Yuan period and Daoist honorifics such as "Qinghe Zhenren." Terms like "Three Yangs" and "palanquin" are explained where necessary, with contextual details added to clarify descriptions of cultivation states—all while strictly maintaining the original length.)

This passage records the experiences and reflections of Master Changchun Qiu Chuji during his westward journey, rendered in modern terms:

Amidst ongoing warfare, Daoism found an early opportunity to spread. Qiu Chuji cultivated widespread goodwill, with officials and common people sincerely submitting to his teachings wherever he went. He wished he could divide himself to respond to everyone's expectations. On the first day of the tenth lunar month, he conducted a zhaijiao (Daoist purification ritual) at Longmen River, followed by another at Chaoyuan Temple in his home prefecture on the fifteenth. On the fifteenth day of the eleventh month, disciples like Song Defang—having previously witnessed piles of bleached bones at Wild Fox Ridge—joined Yin Zhiping (Daoist name Taihezi) in performing memorial rites for wandering souls at Longyang Temple in Dexing. Strangely, though the days preceding the ritual had been bitterly cold, the three days of the ceremony felt as warm as spring.

After the rites, Marshal Jia Chang arrived with an imperial edict inquiring after Qiu Chuji's arduous journey from spring through summer: Had his food and lodging been adequate? Were local officials properly attentive? The message concluded: "We have constantly kept the Zhenren (Perfected One) in our thoughts, and hope the Zhenren will not forget Us." On the sixteenth day of the twelfth month, Qiu Chuji performed another ritual at the Three Hostels of Yuzhou before wintering at Longyang Temple. During frequent walks along Dragon Ridge, he gazed upon war-ravaged Dexing—its villages desolate—and composed verses lamenting: Where towering forests once stood, now only scattered hamlets remain; countless commoners perished by the sword, countless fine houses turned to ash. He added: Through the ages, heroes have penned innumerable poems, but how many truly grasped the joy beyond materiality, transcending the cycle of rebirth?

The following year (Jiashen year), on the first day of the second lunar month, he conducted rites at Qiuyang Temple on Mount Jin. Nestled at the southern foot of Great Crane Mountain amid crystalline streams and pine-draped slopes, this temple proved ideal for cultivation. Qiu Chuji inscribed verses depicting: Behind Qiuyang Temple, emerald cliffs plunge into misty depths where ten thousand acres of rosy clouds veil blue peaks; a single peach-blossom-fed torrent rushes through winding grotto-heavens. Another stanza described: Jagged mountain ranges roll like waves where immortals come and go by day and night; their cavernous abodes lie beyond mortal reach—only celestial music echoes from the cliffs.

Later, high-ranking Yanjing officials including Duke Shimo (Imperial Household Grand Master) and Minister Liu dispatched envoys with official documents, earnestly requesting Qiu Chuji to preside over Tianchang Temple (Yanjing's renowned Daoist center). After his acceptance, imperial couriers escorted him south past Juyong Pass. Daoist companions from Yanjing specially welcomed him at the Shenyou Temple in Nankou, followed the next day by elders from all quarters paying respects.

(Note: "Zhaijiao" refers to Daoist purification rituals; "cycle of rebirth" translates the concept of reincarnation; "grotto-heavens" are Daoist paradises on earth.)

When the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji) returned from his westward journey, crowds of common folk lined the roads holding incense and flowers in welcome, so densely packed that passage became difficult. At his departure years earlier, when people had asked about his return, the master had prophesied "I shall return in three years"—a prediction now fulfilled. Upon entering the Tianchang Temple (Daoist monastery) on the seventh day of the seventh month, he received thousands of devotees daily who came to observe purification rituals. On the fifteenth during the dharma assembly, the congregation again requested the master to relocate to the Jade Void Temple.

On the twenty-fifth of that month, an imperial envoy arrived bearing an edict: The emperor praised the master for spreading the pure Daoist teachings in Han territories, reciting scriptures daily for the imperial family's blessings. He granted the master free choice of monastic residence and land, instructing disciple Alixian (the master's traveling companion) to provide diligent support. The emperor particularly reminded the master not to forget their original covenant.

On the twenty-second day of the fifth month, at the repeated requests of provincial officials Shimo Gong and Liu Gong, the master went to preside over the Great Tianchang Temple. As he departed, several celestial cranes appeared to guide his way, flying northwest. Since the master's residence at the Jade Void Temple, three to five cranes would circle and cry whenever he traveled for rituals. Though northern regions previously had few Daoist adherents, the sage's miraculous manifestations now transformed local customs—devotees performed Daoist kneeling rituals, and even the temple's formerly bitter well water turned sweet as western practitioners gathered, all through the resonance of virtuous affinity.

By mid-sixth month, Imperial Commissioner Zha Ba delivered another edict: The emperor confessed daily longing since the master's departure, urging him to choose any dwelling freely while disciples continued scripture recitations for the imperial house. Since the master's return, practitioners converged from all regions, heterodox teachings gradually vanished, and every household in the capital revered Daoism—the tradition flourished beyond all precedent.

At Tianchang Temple, the master established eight great practice centers: the Assembly of Equality, Eternal Spring Assembly, Numinous Treasure Assembly, Long Life Assembly, Illuminated Truth Assembly, Peaceful Safety Assembly, Disaster-Dispelling Assembly, and Ten Thousand Lotuses Assembly. As distant seekers increasingly came for teachings, the master composed four gathas of instruction. The first states: "Worldly attachments prove hard to sever, yet the Dharma-realm (truth-world) ultimately wears delusions away; if entangled in preferences and aversions, none escape samsara's suffering." The second explains: "The Dao (the Way) precedes heaven and earth—nameless, formless, yet generating all things; the human heart often clouds with desire, while the Dharma-realm remains unobstructed and free."

This passage depicts fragments of the life and philosophical reflections of the Changchun Zhenren (Eternal Spring Perfected One) Qiu Chuji during his stay in Yanjing (present-day Beijing). In the first two poems, the Zhenren laments the illusory nature of all worldly phenomena, urging people to relinquish attachments and embrace an attitude of "emptiness" in daily life. He often wandered with his disciples on Qionghua Island (now the Qionghua Island in Beihai Park), sitting in meditation beneath pine trees, composing poetry, savoring tea, and listening to music—so enchanted that he forgot to return.

Local officials offered him dozens of acres of garden land to establish a Daoist monastery. Initially, he declined, but after repeated entreaties, he finally accepted. The site later became a place for cultivation, where logging was prohibited and gradual improvements were made. During the Cold Food Festival, he wrote two spring excursion poems: the first describes the scenery of imperial gardens encircled by pines and cypresses, declaring that no earthly paradise could surpass it, and expressing his hope that both officials and commoners might plant fields of merit (accumulating virtue) there. The second poem depicts the apricot blossoms in full bloom during the Qingming Festival and the bustling crowds of visitors, sighing over the swift passage of time and expressing his aspiration to refine the Great Elixir (the highest attainment in Daoist cultivation) and ascend to the immortal realm.

In the fourth month of the Yiyou year, the Pacification Commissioner Wang Juchuan (styled Juchuan, a native of Guanzhong) invited the Zhenren to his residence for a purification ritual. When the conversation turned to the scenic beauty of the bamboo groves on Mount Zhongnan, the Zhenren reminisced about his youthful days cultivating the Dao by the Panxi River (near present-day Baoji, Shaanxi), where lush bamboo forests thrived. Now, amid the chaos of war, fine bamboo had become rare, so he asked Wang Juchuan for several dozen bamboo stalks to plant beneath the northern window of the Baoxuan Abbey. Wang Juchuan, however, gently admonished him: "With the realm still embroiled in conflict and the people suffering, the emperor reveres the Dao and urgently needs a man of wisdom like you to protect and guide the masses. Why speak suddenly of retreating into seclusion?"

Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji), harboring a heart to save the world, tapped his staff on the ground and said with a laugh: "Heaven's mandate is already decreed—what can human effort accomplish?" None present grasped the profound meaning behind his words. By late May, the Master ascended Shoule Mountain's peak, gazing upon gardens spread like emerald canopies below. Disciples resting beneath the trees scarcely noticed the midsummer heat as he spontaneously composed a five-character regulated verse: "These borderlands neighbor the frontier, their walls bearing antiquity's traces. Though palaces stand broken, fine gardens yet remain."

Finding the Daoist temple's doors, windows, and steps nearly ruined, the Master instructed disciples to conduct gradual repairs—mending cracks, straightening leaning pillars—until by 1226 (Bingxu year), all stood renewed. Over forty new monastic cells were added, all projects completed through self-sufficiency without external aid. Each summer, he forbade lamplight in all quarters until autumn's end, a precaution against fire.

In October, he moved to Baoxuan Hall (Fanghu Studio). Nightly, he summoned fellow Daoists to discuss profound principles in seated circles, sometimes until dawn. On the thirteenth night of November, he suddenly straightened his robes, paced the courtyard, then returned to present a new verse: "The cosmos unfolds boundlessly—at third watch I sit alone with the Dao. Orion reclines below western peaks while the Dipper circles the Pole. Natural law cannot be obstructed, cosmic mysteries defy full knowing. Who truly governs existence's wheel? Eternal constancy underlies all change."

Come 1227 (Dinghai year), severe drought struck again. After repeated failed rain prayers by officials, Beijing's Daoist devotees begged the Master to conduct a Zhaijiao rain ritual, followed by similar pleas from disaster-relief societies. With perfect composure he replied: "I was already contemplating this rite—your simultaneous requests show hearts attuned to the Dao." He scheduled rain prayers for May first and thanksgiving rites for the third, prophesying: "Only rainfall within three days proves true resonance with the Dao; beyond that, it bears no connection." When some feared failed prophecy might invite criticism, he answered: "This lies beyond your understanding." Rain fell precisely upon the ritual's conclusion—a foot deep by next day, clearing completely on the third, fulfilling his prediction exactly. During the scorching heat, Marshal Zhang Ziyin and others...

Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji) frequently visited the Western Hills, where his disciples repeatedly entreated him to expound the Dao. One day after completing purification rituals, following a rain when the skies first cleared, the master again visited Dongshan Hermitage. Seated with guests amidst the grove, as evening approached and they prepared to return, he composed a quatrain for the assembly: "After rain the Western Hills breathe fresh air, white clouds drift weightlessly free. Guests sit silent in the forest shade, wuwei's wisdom comes naturally."

Returning to the Marshal's residence, the master stayed several days in the upper chambers, where those coming to hear the Dao remained awake through the night. Later, he accepted invitations to lecture at Dagu Hermitage and Qingmeng Hermitage. That evening, a sudden tempest arose with thunder and lightning illuminating both eastern and western skies. The master observed: "This manifests the great Dao's radiance. Those who attain the Dao possess virtue and power brighter than any lightning flash." Late at night when guests departed and the master rested in the thatched hall, a terrific storm erupted—a thunderclap nearly shattered the windows before abruptly subsiding. The astonished assembly murmured: "Why did the thunderbolt cease its fury?" Another replied: "Where perfected virtue resides, even the Thunder Gods restrain their majesty."

On the twenty-fifth day of the fifth lunar month, Daoist Wang Zhiming brought an imperial decree from Qinzhou: Beigong Immortal Isle was renamed Palace of Eternal Peace, Tianchang Abbey became Changchun Palace, with all ordained practitioners under its jurisdiction. The master received a golden tiger tally granting him authority over all Daoist affairs.

After Minor Heat, relentless rains intensified summer's swelter. The master composed a seven-character verse: "Damp heat steams across ten thousand miles, ocean waves crash against towering shores. Crops already show autumn's promise, drought demons flee the fifth moon's course. People rejoice at hope renewed, armies move without commanders' force. Truly the Dao transforms all things, secretly blessing the sage's source." Since Jade Islet became a Daoist cloister, woodcutters and fishermen had vanished for years—fish and birds thrived in garden ponds while visitors flowed through all seasons. In leisure moments, the master often rode horseback between sites.

On the twenty-first day of the sixth month, feeling unwell, the master refrained from travel, bathing instead in the eastern stream. Two days later came reports of midday thunderstorms collapsing Taiye Pond's southern bank—waters surged into East Lake with roars heard miles away. Giant turtles and fish fled as the pond drained; North Pass Mountain likewise crumbled. After long silence, the master smiled: "Mountains collapse, ponds run dry—I too shall follow." (Foreshadowing his impending ascension)

This passage records several significant events from the later years of the Eternal Spring Master Qiu Chuji. On the fourth day of the seventh lunar month, Qiu told his disciples: "Master Ma Danyang (the Second Patriarch of the Quanzhen tradition) once prophesied that after his passing, Daoism would flourish greatly, with every region becoming a place for cultivation. Now we witness this prophecy fulfilled exactly as foretold." Imperial edicts had bestowed names upon Daoist temples across the land, with important abbeys receiving court-appointed officials bearing imperial credentials to oversee religious affairs. "This is precisely the time to withdraw after accomplishing one's mission," Qiu observed. "Ma Danyang's prophecy has been realized like a sealed covenant, and all ecclesiastical matters are properly arranged. I may depart in peace."

During his illness, when disciples urged him to rest in bed, Qiu declined, saying he disliked inconveniencing others and saw no difference between sitting and lying down. On the seventh day, devotees begged him to return to the main hall to receive their veneration, to which he promised to comply on the ninth day. That afternoon, he left behind a gāthā (enlightened verse) comparing life and death to bubbles on water, portraying himself as an immortal transcending worldly dust.

Later, Imperial Commissioner Wang approached Qiu to conduct a zhaijiao (purification ritual) after observing ominous celestial signs—Mars lingering near the Tail constellation, traditionally portending disaster. Qiu responded: "If losing a single object pains us, how much more should we grieve over an entire region's suffering? In recent years, the people have groaned under oppressive taxes and corvée labor, exhausting both public and private resources. Let us use our abbey's reserves to perform the ritual, requiring only that officials observe fasting." At seventy-seven years of age, Qiu personally conducted two days and nights of prayer at the altar. When Commissioner Wang later joyfully reported Mars had receded—averting the calamity—he marveled at how Qiu's De (Virtue/Power) had moved Heaven and Earth.

Master Qiu Chuji (the Eternal Spring Perfected One) sighed, "How could my spiritual response be so immediate?" With humility, he claimed no extraordinary virtue (De), only that efficacious prayers had existed since ancient times—the key lay in sincerity. As the ancients said, "Utmost sincerity can move heaven and earth"—this was the principle at work.

On the Double Ninth Festival, Daoist priests gathered from all regions, and someone presented chrysanthemums. Qiu Chuji spontaneously composed a poem, lamenting time's swift passage. The verses depicted the flower's transcendent purity—blooming defiantly in autumn winds, its golden brilliance illuminating heaven and earth like an emblem of immortality. Later, a devotee brought large sheets of silkworm paper requesting the Perfected One's calligraphy. Qiu Chuji inscribed the poem "Phoenix Perching on Wu-tong," advising detachment from worldly attachments and carefree wandering, warning against being burdened by mundane cleverness, for worldly affairs are impermanent—today's joy may become tomorrow's sorrow, unworthy of excessive mental toil.

When disputants came arguing right and wrong, Qiu Chuji met them with serene detachment, guiding them through Daoist principles. He recited a gatha: "Sweep away all mental obstructions, maintain emptiness and clarity—such a person qualifies as virtuous, and the virtuous become immortals (Shenxian)." The challenger left ashamed.

During the first lunar month, a grand Yellow Register Purification (Zhaijiao) ritual for redeeming souls was held at Panshan Mountain for three days and nights. Under clear skies, the assembly felt joyful, as if spring had emerged midwinter. On the ritual's eve, Qiu Chuji composed verses painting the mountain scenery: undulating peaks piercing the heavens, secluded valleys whispering of transcendence—as if immortals had passed through. Daoists in plain vestments conducted the three-day liturgy (Keyi), joined by countless commoners.

Come May, the capital suffered severe drought preventing crop sowing, plunging people into despair. After repeated failed rain prayers by officials, provincial authorities formally invited Qiu Chuji to lead the ceremony. That very evening of altar consecration, dark clouds gathered—rain began at midnight and continued till dawn. Officials arrived with incense to give thanks, declaring the capital's prolonged drought had parched the fields, but the Perfected One's Daoist methods (Daofa) moved the heavens to send sweet rain. The people hailed it as "immortals' rain."

Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji) replied to the official: "This is because your sincere devotion has moved the celestial deities, who in their compassion descended to save the people. What merit could I possibly claim?" No sooner had the envoy departed than another messenger arrived reporting: "Though rain has fallen, the prolonged drought has not yet been fully relieved. We humbly pray the Master in his compassion might help bring another heavy rain to completely dispel the calamity." The Master responded: "There is no need for concern. When humans move Heaven with utmost sincerity, Heaven responds with genuine reciprocity. The great rain will surely come." Indeed, before the purification rituals (zhaijiao) had concluded, torrential rain poured down like ocean waves, resulting in abundant harvests that year. Local scholars and literati all composed poems to celebrate.

One day, a high official named Wu Deming presented four quatrains, to which the Master responded verse by verse: The first poem spoke of the Toad Lord of Yan (referring to Lü Dongbin) dwelling in this very place, having transcended mortality to become an immortal companion, riding his crane back to Penglai, where the ten-thousand kalpas fairyland exists within this earthen mound. The second declared his solitary retreat in deep mountains, never coveting worldly fame - when visited by Daoist adepts from the Yellow Emperor's era, he wouldn't even exchange mundane pleasantries. The third advised against regarding idle recluses lightly, for only through desirelessness can one approach the immortal ranks - if not cultivating awakening now, when else might one reach the celestial realms? The fourth described obtaining the natural Dao since primordial chaos began, his luminous mind surpassing millennia-old cedars, liberated from life-death without self-attachment, roaming freely beyond past and present.

The Master also inscribed a poem for Zhi Zhongyuan's painting "Portrait of Three Immortals": "The attained realm of true immortals knows no bounds - when might these three perfected masters manifest their numinous traces? They make even the imperial secretariat vie to behold them, yet mortals mistake them for legends like Red Pine." When seekers came for instruction, the Master revealed truth through a seven-character quatrain: "Swift days and nights hasten each other, secretly transforming fleeting lives to frost temples; all creation's workings are but dreams - why cling to rights and wrongs?"

After accepting invitations from provincial officials, the Master observed the dilapidated halls and temples of Tianchang Abbey. At this time, his qi encompassed the four seas, his effortless mastery holding heaven-earth's pivots - the unrestrained verses he casually composed were treated as dust by the world, entrusted only to those with karmic capacity for understanding. Finally ascending to Baoguang Hall for his feathery ascent, wondrous fragrances filled the chamber as disciples burned incense in farewell. When mourners began wailing, attendants Zhang Zhisu and Wu Zhishu immediately restrained them, saying: "The Master left clear instructions appointing disciple Song Dao'an to oversee the order's affairs, with Yin Zhiping assisting."

This account describes the succession and commemorative activities within the Daoist community after the passing of the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji). At the time, his deputies Zhang Zhisong and Wang Zhiming continued handling daily affairs, while Song Defang, Li Zhichang, and others jointly deliberated on religious matters. After the disciples finished reciting the master's parting verses, the Daoist official Song Dao'an and others reverently received his final instructions. At dawn, they conducted funeral rites dressed in mourning hemp garments, with tens of thousands of devotees coming to pay their respects.

The imperial envoy Liu Zhonglu was deeply shaken upon hearing of the master's ascension, exclaiming: "Since the master's audience with the emperor, their bond between ruler and subject had been profound. His Majesty has constantly remembered him since their parting. Now that the master has ascended as an immortal, we must immediately report this to the court." During the first seven-day mourning period, Daoist followers and common people came from distant places to mourn, grieving as if they had lost their own parents.

Those seeking religious names (Daoist initiation names) grew increasingly numerous. One day, the official Song said to Li Zhichang: "On the seventh day of this month, we shall jointly handle the bestowal of religious names according to our master's final instructions. You shall write them, using only my seal." This practice became established tradition. Later, Master Yin Zhiping (Qinghe) arrived from Dexing to preside over the memorial ceremonies.

After the initial mourning period, the elderly official Song told Yin Zhiping: "I am too old to continue managing religious affairs. Please take over my duties." After repeated polite refusals, Yin Zhiping finally accepted this weighty responsibility, while devotees near and far continued practicing the Dao with undiminished devotion. On the first day of the third month in the Wuzi year (1228), Yin proposed constructing a memorial hall for their master at Baiyun Temple. Some worried about the massive project and insufficient food reserves, but Yin responded: "All endeavors need someone to take the lead. People may share in achievements, but rarely in initiating them. If we devote our full effort, what cannot be accomplished? Moreover, our late master's virtue moved countless hearts—devotees from all directions will surely contribute spontaneously. If all else fails, we'll exhaust the temple's reserves and even take up alms bowls if necessary."

Envoy Liu strongly supported the proposal upon hearing it, recommending Ju Zhiyuan and others to oversee construction. From the fourth month onward, workers leveled the foundation, soon joined by over two hundred Daoists from Pingyang, Taiyuan and elsewhere who brought provisions to assist. The memorial hall was completed in just forty days, with too many participants to record fully. All agreed this was due both to collective effort and the invisible protection of sages and worthies.

This account describes the miraculous phenomena surrounding the funeral of the Eternal Spring Master (Qiu Chuji). In early July, continuous heavy rains had raised concerns about disrupting the funeral proceedings, but the skies suddenly cleared on the seventh day of the month, bringing relief to all. On the eve of the funeral, people burned incense and prepared solemn offerings. When the coffin was opened, the master's face appeared as lifelike as in life. For three consecutive days, tens of thousands of officials and commoners came to pay their respects, all marveling at this wonder.

On the day of the funeral itself, auspicious signs manifested: first a mysterious black crane (xuanhe) flew from the southwest, followed by the descent of white cranes, causing the crowd to gaze upward in amazement. After midnight, a grand Lingbao purification ritual (qingjiao) was conducted with 360 altar stations. During the burial, an extraordinary fragrance permeated the air and lingered unusually long. By noon, thousands of Daoist priests (distinguished by their yellow caps and feathered robes) and over ten thousand devotees participated in the memorial offerings. When heavy rains returned after the funeral concluded, people marveled at this perfect synchronization between celestial patterns and human affairs—such extraordinary manifestations could only occur, they believed, because the master's perfected Virtue (De) had moved heaven and earth.

Wang Juchuan (styled Provincial Pacification Commissioner), a powerful official from Xianyang's prominent clan and longtime admirer of Daoism, had developed deep reverence for Qiu Chuji after their acquaintance in Yanjing. He personally oversaw the funeral arrangements and deployed soldiers to maintain order, ensuring the entire process proceeded peacefully. He named the burial site "Hall of Abiding Harmony" (Chushun Tang) and designated the temple as "White Cloud Abbey" (Baiyun Guan).

The text concludes with observations about Qiu Chuji's literary habits: he composed writings without drafting, completing works in single sittings. When people requested calligraphy, he would make spontaneous revisions, resulting in variant versions of some texts. Often at night, he would tell disciples: "Ancient accounts of Dao-realized figures are recorded too briefly in texts, with far more lost to time." He frequently cited contemporary examples of realized masters he had personally witnessed, explaining their stories with vivid clarity, and planned to compile these accounts later in a work titled Comprehensive Records of Quanzhen (Quanzhen Dazhuan).

This text documents the correspondence between Genghis Khan and the Daoist master Qiu Chuji (known as the Eternal Spring Perfected One). The content is divided into two main sections:

The first part contains Genghis Khan's edict to Qiu Chuji. The emperor expresses: "The Perfected One Qiu has traveled far across wind-swept deserts in response to our summons, demonstrating admirable sincerity. We never intended to wage war originally, but were compelled by the discourtesy of opposing leaders. Your journey from Penglai (a sacred Daoist site) reminds Us of Bodhidharma's eastern transmission of Dharma and Laozi's western journey to convert the barbarians (referring to the legend of Laozi crossing the deserts to spread the Dao). Though separated by vast distances, our spirits resonate. As the autumn heat persists, We hope the Master will take care of his health."

The second part is an imperial decree issued by Genghis Khan. The emperor commands local officials: "All Daoist temples where Immortal Qiu and his disciples reside, and where daily scripture recitations are performed for the emperor's blessings, shall be exempt from taxes and corvée labor. However, those falsely claiming monastic status to evade taxes shall be punished by authorities." This decree was entrusted to Qiu's disciples for implementation, explicitly granting tax exemption to all formally ordained practitioners.

The document concludes with notation of its issuance in the third month of the Guiwei Year (Year of the Sheep), bearing the imperial seal. These records preserve the Yuan dynasty's policies honoring the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) tradition, reflecting the actual state of church-state relations during that historical period.

This passage documents the correspondence between Genghis Khan and Qiu Chuji (the Eternal Spring Perfected Person) of the Quanzhen tradition, along with official invitations for Qiu to preside over Daoist temples. Here is the modern interpretation:

Genghis Khan dispatched envoy Alixian to personally deliver an imperial edict to Perfected Person Qiu (Qiu Chuji): "Your previous memorial on official affairs was excellently handled. We had already issued an edict appointing you to oversee all ordained practitioners under heaven. Whether virtuous or unworthy, all shall be subject to your judgment, for only you possess the discernment to distinguish right from wrong."

Another edict from Genghis Khan expressed heartfelt concern: "Perfected Person Qiu, you departed westward in spring. Now that summer's scorching heat has arrived, has the journey become unbearably hot? Are the relay station horses sufficient for your needs? Is the food provision adequate? Have the officials in Xuande Prefecture and other regions properly received you? Have the common people benefited? How fares your health and spirit? We constantly think of you, our Perfected One, and have never forgotten. We hope you too remember us."

Shimo Gong, an official from the Yanjing Branch Secretariat, wrote an invitation respectfully requesting the Eternal Spring Perfected Person to preside over Tianchang Temple (a renowned Daoist abbey). The document praised: "Only those who have attained the Dao can comprehend its profound mysteries; only immortal palaces are worthy of hosting transcendent beings. Tianchang Temple resembles a celestial paradise on earth, a field of imperial blessings. Who but a true perfected being like yourself could oversee such a sacred site? Your extraordinary wisdom has apprehended the way of longevity; your lotus-tongued teachings and crystal-clear mind illuminate the path for all beings. Having previously undertaken the arduous western journey to meet the emperor, and now returning south by imperial decree to spread the teachings, we implore you not to decline but grace us with your presence at the earliest convenience."

Imperial Inspector Wang also composed an invitation employing classical allusions: "How could a divine dragon adapt to shallow ponds? Where might the wild crane not soar freely? In ancient times, Zhuangzi's travels brought glory to the Lacquer Garden, while Chen Tuan's reclusion added luster to Cloud Terrace. Who but a person of your stature could shoulder such responsibility?" These references illustrate that only a great virtue like Qiu Chuji could revitalize the Daoist tradition.

Master Changchun (Qiu Chuji) possesses a purity of essence and refinement of character, with Daoist methods both vast and profound. His name has long been recorded in the celestial registers of the heavenly court. Though temporarily exiled to the mortal realm, he regards a thousand years as but a morning and evening, and the eight directions of the world as his courtyard gate. He revitalized the ancestral traditions passed down by Daoist historiographers, upholding the dharma seal of the Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) lineage. In the past, he was revered as a patriarch across three dynasties (likely referring to the Jin, Song, and Yuan), and now serves as imperial preceptor to the Son of Heaven.

Years ago, he journeyed northward in response to the imperial summons, originally intending to bring peace to all living beings. Now as his carriage turns southward, perhaps he seeks to cultivate personal perfection in Shandong (where Qiu Chuji practiced Daoism). Yet this site of the former Taiji Palace in Yanjing (modern Beijing) stands as a grand monument of the Great Yan (referring to the Jin dynasty) – both the vital Qi (energy) of the nation and the exemplary center for all directions. For establishing foundations to deliver sentient beings, no place compares to this foremost seat of spiritual transformation. Thus we venture to propose that the immortal master might temporarily remain here – where ten thousand miles of auspicious clouds unfold, fulfilling expectations of both mortal and celestial realms; where the wind-borne teachings of Dao and De (Virtue) may perfume all quarters with their fragrance.

Appended is the petition from Shimo Gong of the Yanjing Secretariat:

We understand that sages in this world act or refrain without attachment, yet noble persons should maintain constancy of purpose. As the eminent disciple of Chongyang Zhenren (Wang Chongyang, founder of Quanzhen), Master Changchun's fame spreads across the seas – both preceptor to emperors and patriarch to Daoists everywhere. Having returned from ten thousand miles in response to the summons, now is precisely when he should widely deliver beings here. The Tianchang Abbey can offer longevity blessings upward for the emperor and downward for the common people. Must recent petty criticisms dare disturb the master's dharma carriage? Little did we expect one so virtuous would consider departure. Moreover, the capital represents the root of the realm, the model all regions emulate. To abandon this would be like leaving a tall tree for a dark valley. We presumptuously but resolutely entreat you to remain unmoved, without retreating to deep mountains – abiding forever in this jade-flower Taiji Palace (referring to Tianchang Abbey).

Signed by Qiu Chuji's disciples:

Master Xujing Zhao Daojian

Master Chongxu Song Dao'an

Master Qinghe Yin Zhiping

Master Xuji Sun Zhijian

Ascetic Xia Zhicheng

Master Qingxu Song Defang

The two documents were respectively dated the eighth month of Guiwei (1223) and Bingxu (1226) years.

This passage lists the key figures who accompanied the Elder of Eternal Spring, Qiu Chuji, on his westward journey. Foremost were twelve eminent Daoist masters, each bearing honorific titles bestowed by the emperor:

Wang Zhiming (Master of Preserved Radiance), Yu Zhike (Master of Empty Marvel), Zhang Zhisu (Master of Revered Dao), Ju Zhiyuan (Master of Dao's Truth), Li Zhichang (Master of Penetrating Mystery), Zheng Zhixiu (Master of Nourishing Truth), Zhang Zhiyuan (Master of Mysterious Truth), Meng Zhiwen (Master of Awakening to Truth), Qi Zhiqing (Master of Pure Truth), He Zhiqing (Master of Preserved Truth), Yang Zhijing (Master of Penetrating Mystery), and Pan Dechong (Master of Harmonious Marvel).

Additionally, four Mongol officials were specially assigned to escort and protect the delegation: Mongol Da, Helabahai, Alixian (Imperial Envoy), and Liu Zhonglu (Special Commissioner with Discretionary Powers). The term "Imperial Envoy" (Xuanchai) referred to emissaries directly appointed by the Yuan emperor, while "Special Commissioner with Discretionary Powers" (Pianyi Shi) denoted an envoy granted temporary authority to make decisions. The inclusion of these Mongol officials reflects the high regard and institutional support the Yuan rulers accorded to Qiu Chuji's westward journey in search of the Dao.