《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 1

This passage documents the origins and miracles of the Lingji Ancestral Temple. The Xu clan, descendants of the ancient King Yan, served as officials through successive Tang dynasty generations. During the chaotic Five Dynasties period, they garrisoned Jinling (modern Nanjing) by imperial decree. In the second year of Kaiyun during the Jin dynasty (945 CE), warfare erupted in Min territory (Fujian), prompting the Xu family to lead over ten thousand cavalry to Jianzhou (modern Jian'ou, Fujian), advancing to Fuzhou the following year. During their march, commoners complained of marauding deserters plaguing villages. The Xu army enforced strict discipline, eradicated the rogue soldiers, and won deep admiration from the populace.

After the Xu generals' deaths, their heroic spirits remained active, manifesting divine presence south of Aofeng Mountain. Initial worship occurred at a simple thatched shrine with wooden incense burners, yet seasonal offerings continued without interruption. In spring 983 CE (8th year of Taiping Xingguo reign), during severe drought, villagers prayed for rain by a pool on the eighth day of the second lunar month. As rituals commenced, clouds suddenly billowed from the waters, followed by thunderstorms with hail the next day that ended the drought. Three days later, when people returned, they found the shrine destroyed by floodwaters. During their perplexed prayers by submerging incense in the pool, a wooden burner miraculously surfaced—its ashes completely dry. Twin dragons then appeared coiling westward toward Xianglu Peak (modern western Fuzhou's Chuanzhu Islet), accompanied by auspicious signs: magpies singing, mysterious fragrances, celestial lanterns at night, and metallic resonances by day.

Residents interpreted these as divine manifestations and erected a temple at Xianglu Peak. Later, when auspicious lingzhi mushrooms grew there, the site became known as "Zhi Mountain" (Mushroom Mountain). Blending historical events with folklore, this account exemplifies Daoist beliefs about heroic spirits attaining divinity and the sacralization of natural phenomena. The described seasonal sacrifices (summer "Fu" and winter "La" ceremonies), celestial lanterns, and other marvels represent significant Daoist religious phenomena.

This passage documents the historical evolution of the ancestral temple dedicated to Immortal Xu (Xu Zhenren), his miraculous manifestations, and the flourishing imperial examination culture in the region.

In the first month of 984 CE during the Yongxi era of the Northern Song dynasty, Fang Jue of the Henan Fang clan oversaw the temple's construction. By 1166 (Qiandao 2nd year of Southern Song), Fang Jue's grandsons Fang Xun, Fang Gan, and Fang Zhong petitioned prefect Feng Li for an official plaque inscribed "Guardian of the Realm Who Answers Prayers." In 1070 (Xining 3rd year), local officials including Zhang Guan, Chen Pengchu, Lin Huaixian, and Huang Ban reported Xu's miracles to Court Minister Cheng Shimeng. However, Wang Anshi's controversial Green Sprouts policy caused such public hardship that the court couldn't address the matter.

In 1075 (8th year of Xining), when Jiaozhi invaders attacked, Guizhou prefect Liu Yi joined colleagues Liu Gongshu and Zhou Ruli in praying to Immortal Xu—whereupon the enemy forces retreated. During the Southern Song's Shaoxing period (1131-1162), Xu's divine intervention reportedly aided General Han Shizhong's victories at Dayizhen and Heshangyuan battles, prompting Surveillance Commissioner Xue Bi to memorialize the throne. In 1234 (Duanping 1st year), Chaozhou prefect Zhou Sui again reported these miracles, finally securing the official title "Numinously Responsive" (Lingji) in 1238 (Jiaxi 2nd year).

The text also highlights the region's examination success: since the Northern Song's civil service reforms, numerous locals attained jinshi degrees—some serving in the Censorate, others managing imperial treasuries or governing regions. The Southern Song saw greater literary flourishing, with examinees like Fang Ce and Wang Jie reportedly receiving dream guidance from Immortal Xu before passing. These accounts demonstrate Xu's enduring spiritual efficacy (De) beyond mere folklore. The temple's historical legitimacy was systematically constructed through such documented events.

This passage documents the origins and divine hierarchy of Lingji Palace. Dating back to the Kaiyun era of the Later Jin dynasty (circa 944-947 CE), it has witnessed over 2,400 sexagenary (Jiazi) cycles. Initially established as a community altar (for earth god worship) at Qingbuhuang Creek, it was later relocated to the eastern lane—the current site of Lingji Palace.

The text details the enshrined pantheon: The principal deities are Jiang Wangzhong (given name Zhi'e), canonized by the celestial court as "Great Immortal of the Golden Palace of the Nine Heavens, Manifesting Dao and Virtue, Revealing Miracles for Universal Salvation," and Rao Wang, titled "Superior Immortal of the Jade Palace of the Nine Heavens, Propagating Transformation and Supporting Teachings, Manifesting Miracles for Extensive Salvation." Their father was the Loyal and Martial True Man (Zhenren) Xu Wen (Prince of Qi), and their mother the Immortal Consort of Benevolent Longevity, Lady Tian. Jiang Wangzhong's spouse was Lady Tao of Jing State (posthumously titled Immortal Consort of Accordant Assistance, Benevolent and Kind), while Rao Wang's was Lady Xu of Wei State (titled Immortal Consort of Virtuous Assistance, Compassionate and Gracious).

Additionally worshipped are five marshal deities: Zha Wenhui, Bian Hao, Wei Cen, Zhao Huang, and Diao Yanneng, along with four princely brothers—Zhigao, Zhixun, Zhijian, and Zhixun—who received temple sacrifices in Jinling (modern Nanjing). These historical connections are thoroughly recorded in the History of the Five Dynasties.

The author emphasizes that the ancestral temple (the original shrine) is the source of all subsequent shrines, and its roots must never be forgotten. As the aging structure deteriorated, they rebuilt its halls with timber and chambers with stone, hoping to sustain its incense for millennia. The costly project relied on devotees' (dāna-pati, or "tan-yue") donations—their names still traceable. Reconstruction was completed on the Dingwei day of the eleventh month in the 24th year of the Zhiyuan era (1287 CE). Twelve years later, the gate was renovated and inscribed with the plaque "Ancestral Temple of Zhizhu Isle."

Due to the old stele's damage, the author complied with requests from the Henan Fang clan (Fang Zhuangyou, Fang Fengwu, Fang Siweng, etc.) to erect a new inscription with a commemorative verse. The verse employs metaphors of tracing a river to its source and a tree to its roots, illustrating the ancestral temple's enduring significance across centuries—its merits luminous as sun and moon, its virtue matching heaven and earth, with titles and posthumous honors recorded in history. Where past temple names revealed divine brilliance, today's sacred status ascends further to the realm of perfected immortals.

(Note: "Dāna-pati" refers to Buddhist/Daoist honorific for benefactors; "Jiazi" denotes the 60-year calendrical cycle; "one cycle" equals 12 years.)

This passage records the miraculous deeds of Immortal Xu (Xu Zhenren) in Qingbuxiang, where he manifested his divine power to aid the people. At the time, hundreds of defeated deserting soldiers had taken refuge atop Mount Aofeng, arrogantly plotting rebellion. Immortal Xu led the local villagers up the mountain and, without raising a single weapon, subdued the rebel leader, sparing the community from the ravages of war.

Grateful for his divine benevolence, the elders of the region built a thatched shrine north of the Dragon Pool on Mount Aofeng, enshrining his portrait and offering incense and lamps morning and evening to pray for his blessings. Immortal Xu later appeared in a dream, revealing that he would ascend to immortality the following year but would continue to protect the land. True to his word, the region enjoyed favorable weather and peace, with the people thriving in contentment.

The original shrine, first erected in the wilderness of Chuanyan, weathered storms and time, yet his portrait remained miraculously preserved. Moved by this, a villager named Fang Jue constructed a formal temple, naming it the "Temple of the Guardian of the Land." By the Xiangfu era (during Emperor Zhenzong’s reign in the Northern Song Dynasty), as the population grew, the elders collectively decided to rebuild the temple on the banks of the Huangxi River in Qingbuxiang. This area had previously suffered from flooding that destroyed farmland, but Immortal Xu manifested his power to redirect the waters, restoring bountiful harvests.

The text concludes with a note that the temple was renovated in the Dinghai year, accompanied by the erection of a stele documenting Immortal Xu’s deeds. It also traces his lineage—the Xu clan originated from the Ying surname, with their founding ancestor Ruomu serving as a physician during the Xia dynasty and later being enfeoffed in the state of Xu (modern-day Pizhou, Jiangsu). The Xu lineage endured through the Xia, Shang, and Zhou dynasties. This temple later became known as the Lingji Palace.

This passage recounts the deeds of King Xu Yan and his descendants, along with the construction history of a temple.

King Xu Yan was renowned for governing with benevolence and righteousness, having once received the auspicious omen of vermilion bows and arrows. When King Mu of Zhou heard of this, he dispatched troops to attack. Unwilling to subject his people to suffering, King Xu Yan voluntarily retreated to the foot of Mount Wuyuan in Pengcheng, which later became known as Mount Xu. His descendants dwelled there for over three thousand years, producing many illustrious figures and virtuous scholars recorded in historical annals.

By the Tang dynasty, the author's family had served as officials for generations. During the tumultuous Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, the author was appointed to garrison Jinling (modern-day Nanjing), administering over twenty prefectures in the Jiangnan region. Implementing lenient policies, he brought prosperity to both soldiers and civilians, ensuring the people lived in peace and contentment. The author considered these achievements as radiant as the sun and moon, never to be erased.

In the second year of the Kaiyun era of the Later Jin dynasty (945 CE), when the Min Kingdom fell, the author led ten thousand troops advancing by land and water, with various regions surrendering in succession. His army maintained strict discipline, refraining from harassing civilians. To commemorate this event, locals named the garrison site "She Altar."

Later, villagers offered land on the eastern side of Mount Longshou, an area of exceptional scenic beauty. During temple construction, numerous auspicious signs appeared: crows and magpies gathered, snakes coiled in masses, spirit money spontaneously ignited, extraordinary fragrances filled the air, celestial lanterns appeared at night, and metallic sounds were heard by day. The villagers thus built the temple at this site, summoning craftsmen to begin work. Construction commenced in the Dingyou year of the Zhenghe era (1117 CE), resulting in a solemn and magnificent temple.

Expansions followed in the first year of the Longxing era (1163 CE) with the addition of deep halls, and again in the second year of the Kaixi era (1206 CE) with spacious kitchens and storehouses. By the eighth year of the Xianchun era (1272 CE), the temple complex had grown even more grand, its structures increasingly towering and pristine. To this day, elderly locals can still recount these events.

This passage records the miraculous deeds of Immortal Xu (a Daoist deity) in protecting the nation and the restoration process of his temple. The text mentions how devotees inscribed their names on the temple beams—still clearly visible today—which reminds me how ancient piety resonates with my own heart.

In those days, I dared not dwell in comfort but devoted myself to safeguarding the people and future generations. The divine statues scattered throughout the southwest and north all originated from this main temple, though time has dispersed their veneration. Should any elder inquire, they would learn how my miraculous interventions to aid the world have been deeply engraved in human hearts. During the Jingkang era (when the Northern Song fell), I dispatched celestial troops to protect the nation, emulating the divine manifestations of Gongshan (likely another deity), causing enemy banners to collapse and ultimately quelling the Central Plains' turmoil.

When my achievements were reported to the imperial court, I received honors. Later, during the Southern Song's Jiāxī era, local official Zhou Sui and village elders petitioned the throne again, securing the imperial title "Lingji" (Spiritual Benefactor) for me, along with elevated temple sacrifices—bringing joy to both spirits and mortals.

Recently, as circumstances shifted, people emerging from displacement had no leisure for temple affairs. The ceremonial crowns atop the shrine and the footwear below lay neglected; rotten rafters and tiles went unreplaced, peeling walls and faded statues unrestored. Had I not manifested my power to bless the land, this once-devout sanctuary might have fallen to ruin.

When villagers came seeking divination, I revealed sixty-four lots (corresponding to the sixty-four hexagrams of the Yijing), for nothing in heaven or earth escapes the principles of the Changes. After delivering the oracles, I composed this text to admonish all: henceforth, each must fulfill their duties with impartial hearts, managing repairs to revive what is broken and renew what is aged. I claim no exclusive merit—my only wish is for the people's peaceful lives, longevity, prosperity, and thriving lineages. Truly, my protective grace for humanity runs deep.

On the auspicious day of Gengxu in the eighth month, as the restoration concluded, they requested my record. My grandfather once served as Chancellor of Wu, enfeoffed as Prince of Qi with the posthumous title "Zhong." (Note: The first-person "I" represents Immortal Xu narrating his miracles.)

This stele inscription documents the historical glory of the Xu family during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period and their subsequent ancestral worship. Among the four sons of Wu Boshi (Xu Wen), the eldest Xu Zhigao inherited the title and was enfeoffed as Prince of Tang (later becoming Li Bian, founding emperor of Southern Tang). The other three sons—Xu Zhixun, Xu Zhijian, and Xu Zhixun—all held powerful positions in the Wu Kingdom, receiving princely titles, and had dedicated ancestral shrines established for posthumous worship.

It specifically mentions that Xu Zhizheng was enfeoffed as Prince of Jiang and Xu Zhie as Prince of Rao, with these deeds recorded in historical texts and the Ministry of Rites archives. Their shrines in Jinling (modern-day Nanjing) have been venerated for over four hundred years, and their incense offerings will continue for millennia.

The latter part of the inscription discusses the format of stele records. Some questioned whether a stele should have a "reverse side" (with inscribed text). The author argues that genres like the "Record of Music" (Yueji) or "Record of Learning" (Xueji) traditionally did not require reverse-side inscriptions, but epitaphs following the "ming" (eulogistic) format were suitable for back engravings. He cites Liu Zongyuan, who pioneered listing disciples' names on the reverse when erecting a stele for his father, while this Prince Xu of Jiang stele became the first to inscribe a narrative account on the back, establishing a new precedent.

The conclusion emphasizes that those who rendered meritorious service to the state and people in life deserve to become venerated spirits after death. Deities receiving imperial recognition particularly require steles documenting their deeds, so later generations may be inspired when reading them in the shrine, ensuring no dishonor falls upon the divine. The reverse side also bears a quotation from the Classic of Poetry (Shijing) by Lin Dongcun, alluding that this land would produce virtuous talents like the ancient sages Shenbo and Yin Jifu.

This passage primarily discusses two sections: "Record of Preserving Sincerity" and "Record of the Hall of Familial Harmony."

Regarding the "Record of Preserving Sincerity":

The text describes a plaque inscribed with the characters "存诚" (Preserving Sincerity) hanging in the courtyard of Lingji Temple (a Daoist shrine), said to be written by the deities themselves. A traveler from afar noticed that while other stone inscriptions contained complete commemorative texts, these two characters lacked detailed explanation. Through divine revelation, the author explains that "sincerity" means truthfulness without falsehood. In human relationships—whether between ruler and subject, parent and child, siblings, spouses, or friends—all interactions must be grounded in sincerity. With genuine sincerity in one's heart, one need not fear thunder above or abyss below. Conversely, false words and deeds breed suspicion even among closest kin. Quoting the Book of Changes' principle to "guard against evil and preserve sincerity," the text illustrates that when one embodies truthfulness without deception, sincerity naturally exists even without verbal declaration.

Concerning the "Record of the Hall of Familial Harmony":

This section emphasizes that the most vital aspect of human relations lies in harmonious kinship bonds. Though not elaborated in detail, the title itself underscores the paramount importance of family unity and affectionate kinship.

The text mentions "Lord Liu" referring to Tang Dynasty scholar Liu Zongyuan, who was posthumously deified as the God of Luochi after his exile, and "Master Han" denoting Han Yu who composed Liu's memorial inscription. The author modestly claims that while emulating Lord Liu's example, his own literary talent falls short, hoping future generations will continue recording these principles.

This scripture discusses the importance of human relationships and their historical evolution. The core message states that in an ideal society, all familial roles—father and son, elder and younger brothers, husband and wife—should fulfill their proper duties (a father must act as a father should, a son as a son should, and so forth). In ancient Zhou dynasty, the Grand Steward (Taizai) governed the people through the "Eight Regulations," the first of which was "kinship affection" (qinqin), emphasizing harmony among relatives.

During the golden ages of the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang, and Zhou), the ruling class understood the principles of human relationships, and the people naturally lived in kindness and harmony. Virtues such as filial piety, parental love, fraternal duty, and respect arose spontaneously without forced cultivation. However, after the Qin and Han dynasties, governance prioritized convenience over ritual propriety, abandoning the ancient teachings that fostered mutual affection among the people. This led to the collapse of moral order, the obscuring of ritual and righteousness, and a rise in deceitful behavior. Nowadays, fathers and sons no longer live together, brothers fail to coexist peacefully, moral instruction has been severed, and customs have decayed—people no longer grasp the true meaning of "kinship."

In antiquity, folk customs were simple and sincere, but today they have become cunning and harsh. This is not because modern people are inferior to the ancients, but because there are no sages like Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen of Zhou, the Duke of Zhou, or Confucius to uphold the principles of human relationships. Fortunately, we now live in an enlightened era where benevolent virtue governs the land, with filial piety promoted as the foremost means of educating the people. Upon hearing of this movement, regions everywhere have followed suit, producing many models of chastity, filial devotion, and righteousness.

Yet in places where customs remain unrefined, the deities (referring to local enshrined gods) cannot remain indifferent. Thus, they have commanded villagers to build a "Hall of Kinship and Harmony" (Qinmu Tang) east of the temple, dedicated to the deities' own relatives, to advocate the principle of "cherishing those who are kin." The hall is named "Qinmu Tang" precisely so that those who come to worship may understand the vital importance of familial harmony.

This passage documents the origin and significance of the "Hall of Kinship and Harmony" (Qinmu Tang) within Lingji Palace, a Daoist temple. In the third month of the Zhiyuan Jiawu year during the Yuan dynasty, the Venerable Lingji of Aofeng, a Daoist practitioner, recorded the original intent behind constructing this hall.

Located east of Lingji Palace's main hall, the name "Qinmu" (Kinship and Harmony) was chosen with the hope that visitors, upon seeing the hall and its divine statues, would naturally cultivate feelings of harmony and closeness. The founder specifically composed this record to elucidate the importance of human relationships. The text presents a series of familial ethical principles: fathers should be kind and instructive toward their children, children should be filial and admonish parents when necessary, elder brothers should demonstrate fraternal affection with respect, younger brothers should show reverence and obedience, husbands should maintain harmony while upholding moral principles, and wives should embody gentleness and propriety.

When a Confucian scholar once inquired about the meaning of "Qinmu," the Venerable explained it derived from the Book of Rites' "Fangji" chapter: "Harmony with one's parental lineage is called kinship." Their discussion detailed the scope of paternal relatives (from great-grandfathers to great-great-grandchildren) and maternal kin (uncles, cousins, etc.). The scholar remarked that what distinguishes humans from beasts is precisely this maintenance of familial bonds. Should such fundamental kinship fade, it would truly violate heavenly principles.

The Venerable wholeheartedly agreed, lamenting the moral decay of his era: people prized cunning deception while abandoning ritual propriety and righteousness, having lost all sense of shame. He quoted the Book of Songs—sections like "Nan Gai" and "Tang Di"—to illustrate the decline of filial piety and brotherly love, while citing "Tao Yao" and "Fa Mu" to bemoan how traditional ceremonies for hosting relatives had fallen into disuse. Finally invoking Mencius' teaching that "those lacking a sense of deference are not human," he emphasized his purpose in writing was to awaken people's innate moral conscience.

Through this dialogic format, the text reflects how Daoist practitioners during the Song-Yuan transition actively incorporated Confucian ethics while expressing profound concern about societal moral decline.

This scripture primarily consists of two main sections:

The first section discusses the concept of "divine kinship." It mentions that deities also possess their own system of familial relationships, such as Sacred Fathers, Sacred Mothers, Sacred Elder Brothers, Sacred Sons, Sacred Nephews, Sacred Grandsons, Sacred Uncles, and Sacred Sons-in-law. These titles originate from classical references in the Book of Songs (including the poems "Southern Slopes," "Flowering Plum," "Locusts," "Felling Trees," and "Peach Blossoms"). The author suggests that while divine kinship differs from worldly relationships, both embody the benevolent Dao of "cherishing one's kin" (qinqin). Quoting the Great Learning, it explains that governing a state begins with harmonizing the family, that benevolence originates from cherishing kin, and that when noble persons value familial bonds, they inspire common people toward virtue.

The second section depicts the "Hall of Joyous Feasting" (Yanxi Tang), a ceremonial shrine. It meticulously describes the enshrined Lady's image: she embodies the virtues of "containing brilliance in steadfast unity" (han zhang zhen yi), speaks with composed gentleness, labors day and night at weaving, and possesses dignified beauty beyond compare. To the shrine's west stands the Hall of Joyous Feasting, housing the Lady's statue—a jade-like figure adorned with luminous pearls and golden ornaments, robed in resplendent attire. She is attended by various handmaidens: some adjusting ceremonial vestments, others holding dressing mirrors, some carrying grooming implements, and others attending to cosmetics. Each bears distinct titles like Xiuyi (Cultivated Grace), Zhaoyi (Illustrious Grace), Xiurong (Cultivated Countenance), and Ronghua (Flourishing Beauty). Through intricate descriptions, the passage vividly portrays a solemn yet exquisitely ornate ritual setting.

This passage depicts the ancient imperial court's system of female officials and sacrificial rituals, divided into two parts:

The first half describes the hierarchy of palace women. The Zhaohua (a female official title) mentions that Shuncheng, Dianfugong (overseeing women's work), Dianxixi (managing textiles), Nüfu, Nüshi (recording palace affairs), Nüzhu (presiding over sacrificial prayers), and Nüyu were all official titles for women serving the monarch. The Inner Treasury safeguarded valuables while the Outer Treasury handled daily supplies, with dedicated accountants managing these storehouses.

The latter portion paints scenes of court banquets and sacrificial ceremonies. When silk curtains descended with fragrant breezes and beaded blinds rolled up under hazy moonlight, noble ladies hosted joyous feasts. The banquet tables glittered with candlelight amid fine wines and delicacies, while consorts from the six palaces toasted each other with laughter. People believed deities would descend with blessings upon witnessing such earthly merriment. During the Fu and La sacrifices (important ancient ritual seasons), gratitude was expressed to the gods here. Those praying for children were received by the Zhuzisunsi (the divine office overseeing childbirth), said to be served by heavenly qilin bringing offspring.

Particular mention is made of the "Yanxi Hall," named after the "Lu Hou Yan Xi" allusion from the Book of Songs (a chapter praising Duke Xi of Lu's hospitality). Finally, it recounts how the Surveillance Commissioner Lord Chang established village schools in Fujian to revive literary culture. Amidst flourishing bamboo groves and pine forests encircled by streams and hills—originally an ideal site for scholars to found primary schools (ancient basic education institutions)—lectures in the study halls were conducted with rigor. Only renowned Confucians like Dong Zhongshu and Ma Rong (celebrated Han Dynasty scholars) dared set up teaching platforms here. East of the hall stood an old shrine dedicated to the Earth Deity (local land god), not one of those terrifying spirits who trade in fortune and misfortune.

This passage recounts the rise and fall of a temple in Fujian province. During wartime turmoil, the original study halls and main halls were destroyed. Coupled with harsh imperial decrees that left commoners in hardship, many scholars were forced to abandon their studies, reduced to becoming farmers, artisans, or merchants—a lamentable situation.

Fortunately, the ancestral shrine of the Northern Deity (referring to the locally worshipped deity) remained intact with its incense offerings still burning. Moved by compassion at the sight, people could not bear to leave it in ruins and built a simple thatched shelter for protection against wind and rain. By the Qingli era (1041–1048), local gentry such as Dun Jie began reconstructing it with tiles and timber. Over sixty years later, Chen Zhizu and others replaced the wooden pillars with stone, expanding the structure into a grander scale. Contributions from devout patrons like Zhou Yi, Zhou Shixiu, and Zhou Gongchong ensured its completion. Even today, the names of these donors can still be seen inscribed on the stone pillars.

Once finished, the shrine was elevated to temple status. Since it previously lacked an official title, it was named "Lingji Temple" (Temple of Numinous Aid) based on accounts of the deity’s miraculous manifestations. Though the temple surpassed its predecessors in scale, the author felt this alone might not deeply inspire future generations. Thus, in 1269 (the fifth year of the Xianchun era), it was renovated again—adorned in vibrant colors, with the deity’s statue recast and yellow drapes and red altars arranged to enhance its solemnity.

The author concludes with a reflection: Humans, as the most spiritual of beings, understand filial piety toward parents, yet often neglect reverence for ancestors—let alone distant forebears. Today, whether one farms, labors, or trades, those who can still read and comprehend principles ought to trace their ancestral roots and restore their family’s legacy. This place should not merely be remembered as a site for scholarly discussions of the past. Figures like Yi Yin and Fu Yue rose from humble origins, and among Emperor Gaozu of Han’s meritorious officials were silk traders and dog butchers—all immortalized in history for their contributions. This proves that those who study and understand principles may rightfully be called "scholars" (shi), regardless of their background.

This passage recounts the founding of Lingji Temple and the profound principles embodied within it.

The author reflects on his youth, when he traveled far and wide in pursuit of fame and merit, visiting renowned historic sites across the land. It was during this time that his friend Zhang Guilong presented him with the Lingji Anthology and informed him of an ancient temple in Qingbu, Fujian, called Lingji Temple, which enshrined two deities surnamed Xu (posthumously honored as the Kings of Jiang and Rao). This temple, dating back to the Kaiyun era of the Later Jin dynasty during the Five Dynasties period, had stood for over four hundred years, with the two deities performing countless meritorious deeds—protecting the nation, aiding the people, and dispelling calamities. Recently, however, the temple had fallen into severe disrepair, prompting Zhang Guilong and six other local worthies to jointly propose its restoration in the summer of the Guisi year.

During the reconstruction, miraculous phenomena occurred: the deities manifested their presence, guiding the project through spirit-writing (automatic writing via a planchette brush). When the work was completed in the eighth month, the deities descended once more, composing a preface to document the event. These divine writings fully embodied the teachings of Confucius and Mencius, exhorting people to uphold loyalty, trust, ritual propriety, and righteousness—surpassing even the masterpieces of great literary figures like Ban Gu, Zuo Si, and Yang Xiong. With reverence, Zhang and his six companions had the divine inscriptions carved onto stone steles, with the calligraphy executed by the local scholar Lin Gongyannian, while the author himself contributed the inscribed plaque.

The author makes a pointed observation: some claim that the fasting hall (zhaitang, a Daoist cultivation space) is merely a place for reciting scriptures, but such ignorant talk should not be taken seriously. Finally, he notes that this temple record was composed on behalf of Lord Dongcun and completed on the day after the Mid-Autumn Festival in the third year of the Dade era (a Yuan dynasty reign period), signed under the pseudonym "Ao Feng Shan Ren" (Hermit of Turtle Peak).

(Additional context: "Kaiyun of the Later Jin" refers to the reign era of the Later Jin dynasty during the Five Dynasties period, while "Dade 3" corresponds to the Yuan dynasty under Emperor Chengzong. "Planchette writing" (jibi) is a Daoist divination method where deities transmit messages through automatic writing, and the "fasting hall" (zhaitang) is a space for Daoist practitioners to cultivate and perform rituals.)

The first part of Xu Xian's Literary Elegance recounts the erection of a stele commemorating divine manifestations. The deity appeared in a dream bestowing ancient verses, mentioning "the stele is already erected; may you record today's events"—this being the divine will. The author dared not refuse and thus composed this commemorative text. The inscription states: ancient times had their sacrifices, now we have their continuation; ancient times had imperial decrees, now we have declarations. This writing was composed to encourage virtuous conduct. Now that the temple has been fully restored, the people devoutly pray for timely winds and rains. This stele is engraved to proclaim [these virtues] for ten thousand generations, ensuring the deity's grace remains unforgotten through the ages.

Record of the Yuqing Hall Ritual Space begins with a Buddhist perspective: all phenomena arise from mind—but where does mind reside? The so-called "mind itself is Buddha" means Buddha is the awakened one. True Buddha-nature has no form or appearance, neither coming nor going, unhindered and unattached. If one cannot truly realize mind's nature but merely engages in empty talk about Buddhist teachings or exploits the Buddha's name for profit, all effort is ultimately futile. Since the Jingde (1004-1007) and Xiangfu (1008-1016) eras of the Northern Song, Buddhism has flourished widely, with ritual spaces established everywhere for venerating Buddha images. The Yuqing Hall in the author's hometown, dating from the Kaixi Bingyin year (1206) of the Southern Song to the Yuanzhen Bingshen year (1296) of the Yuan dynasty, has stood for over ninety years. Yet now it lies in ruins—roofs leak, walls let wind through, with none to repair them. This resembles how people of Yue regard the fat or thin of people in Qin—utterly indifferent. The author reflects that the ancient labor of carrying water and firewood to build temples was no single-day effort, while Buddhist teachings remind us: all Buddhas manifested in the world practiced in mountain forests, never considering it hardship. Therefore, one should not idly occupy land but diligently cultivate practice.

In Nan'an (present-day Nan'an, Fujian) stands a stone chamber where people built the Hall of Abundant Blessings (Yuqing Tang) for dwelling. This structure neither gained additions during Buddhism's flourishing nor suffered losses during its decline. For the Buddha's wisdom sees through all—if the human mind is not upright, it becomes like a yaksha or rakshasa (malevolent spirits in Buddhism), utterly unworthy of discussing the Dharma.

The Tang dynasty monk Master Zhigong once expounded the Dharma with Layman Fu Dashi (a renowned Southern Dynasties lay practitioner) on Yunhuang Mountain. An ascetic from Songshan rose to kneel and ask: "What karma have sentient beings of this Dharma-ending age created to suffer so long in this Sahā world (Buddhist term for our suffering-filled realm)? What method can save them?" Zhigong replied: "In this Dharma-ending age, evil-doers abound while those planting virtuous roots are few." Fu Dashi sighed: "All beings reap what they sow! These words are absolutely true!"

Now I extensively expound the Dharma for all beings, hoping they may attain awakening. Should any virtuous men or women develop the supreme bodhicitta (mind of enlightenment), making offerings as countless as the Ganges' sands while maintaining thought-free, attachment-free, and unregressing minds—thus adorning Buddha-lands through such causes and conditions—their merit would be immeasurable. I speak only truth without falsehood. Listen attentively, making the Buddha-mind your own mind.

I recall another gatha: "All my virtuous roots / arise from this very heart. / Understand?" Thus the heart itself is Buddha. In the third year of Qiandao (Southern Song era), the court conferred upon the Radiant Buddha (a regional Fujian Buddhist deity) the title "Perfectly Responsive, Universally Compassionate Great Master Bodhisattva," while commoners called him either the Sage in White or Pangu Radiant Buddha. I presume to compose this Record of the Hall of Abundant Blessings for Buddhism's sake, engraving it before the hall to guide the world.

From the Record of the Guest-Greeting Pavilion:

People lament being unable to see Han Yu's (Han Wengong) original calligraphy, yet I rejoice in this. For Master Han's writings depict forms so vividly that following their descriptions makes the originals appear before one's eyes. This reveals my appreciation for Master Han's deeper intent in erecting this pavilion—all things decay, only literature endures.

The verses of the Numinous Relief Perfected Being (Daoist immortal) already achieve ultimate splendor and perfection, yet the walls require mending where damaged. Measuring with my hand tablet, I calculate needing over seventy hu boards (official tablets used for court memoranda; here referring to repair materials). Two or three... (original text fragmentary)

After completing this endeavor with utmost effort, I further requested Immortal Xu (a Daoist transcendent) to inscribe the painting. After profound contemplation, Immortal Xu remarked: This celestial panorama depicted on the mural stands isolated upon the wall, inevitably exposed to wind and rain, destined to deteriorate with time. While it would be ideal to have Scholar-official Wen compose a record for this artwork, should the painting itself perish, at least this documentation may endure for posterity, allowing future generations to know of these events. Yet is such documentation merely recording for recording's sake?

Now we rejoice in this sagely enlightened dynasty that unifies all under heaven, its majestic virtue resplendent. Maritime kingdoms of the southern seas come bearing tribute in succession, as divine beings and common folk alike celebrate this revival of Great Peace. I venture to celebrate our present prosperity through this painting. Within it stands a pavilion inscribed with the plaque "Guest-Receiving Pavilion," front and back planted with scholar trees, forming a "Scholar Tree Market" landscape. Flanking the pavilion east and west stand memorial arches named respectively "Delighting the Nearby" and "Cherishing the Distant."

The composition depicts fantastically rugged peaks and boundless rocky mountains, with post roads winding through. Endless tributary processions traverse these paths, all fashioned as envoys from southern maritime kingdoms: two "foreign officials" riding elephants lead the procession, each attended below by a seal-bearing attendant; four "elephant handlers" (also called elephant masters) guide the beasts with golden hooks; flanking them stand two standard-bearers holding respectively "Precious-Bearing Banners" and "Tribute-Offering Banners"; two ceremonial chariots with four charioteers, plus two umbrella-bearers and two interpreters. Other retinue members appear barefoot or bare-chested, thirty-six of them wearing five-colored brocade waist wraps.

The tribute treasures include: giant tortoises, elephant tusks, southern metals, rhinoceros horns, patterned armor, kingfisher feathers, silver, along with precious incenses like sandalwood and aloeswood. Rarer still are exceptional treasures seldom seen in the mortal world: the He Shi jade, the Marquis Sui's pearl, Shi Chong's coral tree. These marvels are displayed in golden plates and silver urns, adorned with glass basins and pearl curtains, including seven-jeweled pagodas and other vessels. The procession carries tribute bundles wrapped in reed mats, traversing seas and mountains in magnificent array, heaped within the pavilion in dazzling profusion—a scintillating spectacle of colors.

The official protocol for receiving tribute faithfully follows the Zhou Rites' "Cherishing Distant Lands Office" regulations: eight mid-ranking officers, with four each of archivists, scribes, assistants, and runners, each appointed according to their abilities. Who says tributary affairs should be managed solely by a handful of chiefs?

This passage describes two Daoist temples and their related accounts. The first part depicts a mural in the Lingji Palace:

I observed two principal figures and two attendants in the painting, none of whom possessed extraordinary talents. The artwork portrayed pines encircling paper mulberry trees and willows lining the path, creating a scenic view spanning several dozen paces. Viewed from afar, the painter's skill appeared supremely exquisite—his brushstrokes alternately visible and hidden, conjuring the vastness of cloud-wreathed mountains stretching ten thousand li. The composition also included a market bridge slender as a sash, a stream white as unrolled silk, complemented by exquisite jade balustrades and vermilion railings, with pavilions and towers arranged in picturesque disorder. At the center depicted the expedition of Marshal Cha, Bian, Zhao, Diao and another (five commanders in total), with warriors clearing the path ahead and cavalry following in majestic formation. This mural manifested the numinous power of deities subduing demonic forces—repaying the nation's benevolence while safeguarding the land and blessing its people. Such artistry could never be achieved in a single day. Though I deeply admire it, I must record its essence in writing lest wind and rain gradually erode its splendor. Should later generations seek to understand this painting, reading this account will reveal its profound significance.

The second part documents the origins of the Qilong Mountain Spirit Shrine:

Qilong Mountain stands beside Aofeng Peak, crowned by a Rain-Invoking King's Temple, also called Longmen Shrine—an affiliated temple of the eastern lane's Lingji Palace. During the summer and autumn of Xuanhe 7th year (Yi-Si year, 1125 CE) in the Song Dynasty, a severe drought plagued the land, leaving farmers distraught. After futile sacrifices to various deities, the local elders deliberated: "The Border-Protecting Responsive King from the eastern lane's temple has always shown potent efficacy in warding off disasters and safeguarding people. Given this dire drought, shouldn't we swiftly prepare livestock, jades and silks for offering?" Thus in the seventh month... (text fragmentary hereafter)

The mentioned "Border-Protecting Responsive King" represents a Daoist tutelary deity in local belief, while "sacrificial offerings of livestock and buried jades" refers to ancient rituals involving interring sacrificial animals and jade objects. These records reflect historical folk customs of rain-seeking during droughts.

On the third day of the Ren-Shen year (by the celestial stem-branch calendar), at dawn, people purified themselves through fasting and ablutions before reverently proceeding to the temple for worship. Moved by compassion for the innocent suffering of the populace, the deity responded immediately—in the blink of an eye, mist and clouds gathered, thunder and lightning crashed, and torrential rain suddenly poured down. Gazing toward the southern mountains, people beheld a divine dragon with glittering scales, upon whose back stood a yellow banner bearing the bold inscription "King of Responsive Protection for the Realm" (this became the initial honorific of the deity later enfeigned as the Numinous Benefactor King).

Three days later, on the Jia-Xu day, the skies cleared. That autumn brought an abundant harvest, with grain yields doubling and even barren fields overflowing with crops. The elderly farmers rejoiced, kneeling and bowing northward in gratitude. On the winter solstice, the local authorities erected an altar at the foot of Banner-Dragon Mountain, offering monthly sacrifices to thank the divine grace. Sixty years later, a solemn and magnificent temple was built to permanently enshrine the deity. The mountain earned its name precisely because the gods first manifested their numinous presence there.

The deity’s rain-bringing never failed, and the people petitioned the authorities to honor it as the "Rain-Petitioning King," with the temple also known as the "Dragon Gate Shrine." Local scholars aspiring to fame and merit often came here to seek blessings. According to ancient sacrificial rites, any mountain or hill capable of summoning clouds, bringing rain, and manifesting divine signs deserved veneration. This deity not only commanded the banner-bearing dragon to send timely rains but also dispelled calamities, ushering in peace and granting the people renewed life.

For over four hundred years, the people never forgot to repay this divine kindness. Yet as time passed, the shrine deteriorated, and the sacred images lost their luster. Lin Chun and other devotees, deeply moved by the deity’s grace, gathered the villagers to discuss restoration. After praying for divine guidance, they received a revelation: a luan bird (a Daoist divine phoenix) manifested in peculiar seal-script calligraphy, which, upon their request, transformed into accessible parallel prose. On an auspicious day in the first month of the Yuanzhen era (1295 CE), with contributions from the eastern and western neighborhoods, the temple was at last gloriously renewed.

This passage documents the historical evolution and restoration process of the Lingji Sage-King Temple, containing the following key elements:

On the jiazi day (first day of the 60-day cycle) following the Beginning of Spring (Lichun) during the twelfth lunar month, the temple construction was completed, and people requested me (the self-referential deity) to compose this record. As a divine being, I dare not boast to please mortals, but only wish to quietly guard this land, eternally receiving sacrifices while bestowing longevity, prosperity, peace, and joy upon the people—these being their heartfelt desires which I shall surely fulfill.

Regarding the divine lineage and titles of nobility, detailed records exist in the stele inscriptions of Lingji Palace east of the lane, preserving them for investigation even a hundred generations later. As for engraving my name on the stone tablet, this requires no elaborate explanation. I shall simply record the circumstances of Qilong Mountain's Lingji Temporary Shrine, locally known as the "Rain Prayer King's Palace."

The Great Immortal of Aofeng, Lingji Zhenren (Daoist honorific for an enlightened being), personally recounted: The stele inscription for Lingji Sage-King Temple serves to manifest divine virtues and prevent their oblivion. Since the Xiangfu era (1008-1016) of Northern Song, prayers for disaster relief have received miraculous responses, often conducted jointly at the eastern side of Longshou Temple. Later, the imperial court conferred the title "Supreme Immortal Sage Inspector of the Three Heavens' Jade Towers, Mighty and Vastly Compassionate Zhenren," which became the manifestation of Lingji deity. Though incorporated into state sacrificial rites, initially there was no dedicated temple.

It wasn't until the Shaoxing era (1131-1162) of Southern Song that three separate worship areas were established in southwest and north directions. In the jiachen year of Shaoxing 6 (1136), the northern temple was completed with magnificent scale. Villager Lin Li supervised the project, but after ninety-eight years the temple nearly fell into ruin before being rebuilt. According to donors' records, by the third day of the second lunar month in Dade 3 (1299), eight days before the community sacrifice, when devotees led by Zeng Chen and Fu Long conducted incense ceremonies, the temple had lain abandoned for sixty-seven years.

During rituals performed in the eastern courtyard, they prayed: "Though long wishing to restore this ruined temple, we dared not proceed without auspicious signs." I instructed them to choose an auspicious date, whereupon they requested this commemorative inscription, which I couldn't decline.

The text further notes: In this unified empire's peaceful reign, both Daoist gongguan and Buddhist monasteries experience revival. The village established this divine abode during the yin year (tiger year) when the Big Dipper's handle pointed to yin position (ancient astronomical terminology), making sacrificial affairs evident. Yet seeing the temple's dim statues, broken tiles, and stained walls—its wind-battered state aroused such fear of failing the divine commission that they repeatedly consulted turtle shells and yarrow stalks (ancient divination tools) until finally trusting my judgment. In this primordial chaos-like condition where deities remain soundless and formless, how dare I boast recklessly to confuse mortals?

Note: The text involves multiple era names:

• Xiangfu: Northern Song Zhenzong era (1008-1016)
• Shaoxing: Southern Song Gaozong era (1131-1162)
• Dade: Yuan Chengzong era (1297-1307)

This stele inscription records the life story of the Daoist immortal Lingji Zhenren (Perfected Lord Lingji) Pan Maoming and the construction process of his temple. The opening describes the auspicious occasion of the temple's construction: craftsmen repaired the old shrine, whitewashed the walls, and decorated them with vermilion and indigo pigments. Upon completion, the temple aligned with celestial constellations, capable of blessing the people with prosperity and good fortune.

The middle section details Pan Zhenren's biography: Born into the prestigious Pan clan of Gushi, Fujian, he was recommended as a virtuous candidate for office (Xiaolian) but repeatedly declined official appointments, regarding wealth and status as fleeting clouds. During his seclusion at Aofeng Peak, he cultivated farmland and lived in humble simplicity. Endowed with innate immortal bones, he studied Daoist methods under the immortal Wo Quan, acquiring abilities to walk on water without getting wet and traverse the skies. He ultimately achieved feathered ascension (yuhua, the Daoist term for an immortal's transcendence) during the Qiande era. After becoming an immortal, he frequently appeared in people's dreams, capable of dispelling calamities and ensuring bountiful harvests.

The latter portion chronicles the temple's history: Originally built during the Southern Song Shaoxing era, it fell into disrepair by the first year of the Shaoding reign, when reconstruction followed traditional specifications. People revered the Perfected Lord's virtuous power (De), and officials preserved relevant records. The inscription concludes with prayers for the immortal's continued manifestations of divine protection and the hope that this stele will endure through the ages. It ends with the ceremonial phrase "May the Son of Heaven reign for ten thousand years."

Note: The original text contained numerous lacunae and variant characters, with reasonable supplements made based on context. Terms like "feathered ascension" (yuhua) and "dream manifestations" (tuomeng) represent distinctive Daoist concepts describing an immortal's transcendent death and spiritual appearances.

As I was returning from the Tianla Festival (an important Daoist celebration), a guest suddenly appeared in the courtyard wearing golden ornaments and purple robes, proclaiming loudly: "The living become humans, the dead become ghosts. If one was a noble person in life, their ghost would never harm others; if a petty person, their ghost wouldn't manifest spiritual power. Western temples keep records, northern and southern steles bear inscriptions—I fear I'll soon decay like grass and trees."

Hearing this, I invited him inside and recognized him as the upright local guardian deity of the Shejiao Shrine. Taking his hand, I seated him respectfully and said: "Had you not spoken, I might have missed this encounter. In these times, those who observe ritual propriety struggle to survive—only the cunning and aggressive thrive, only the calculating prosper."

"Your divine duty sustains the nation through agriculture: spring plowing, summer weeding, autumn harvest, winter storage—year-round toil without respite. The Celestial Gate (imperial court) lies ten thousand miles away—who considers your long-term welfare? Who shows you compassion? Figures like Fei Changfang (Eastern Han dynasty mystic) wouldn't dare command spirits recklessly. Even the cleverest magpie can't escape filling riverbeds; the wisest spirit-turtle must still prop up bedsteads. Why do roosters cease crowing? Why do dogs stop barking? Why do oxen pant? Why do horses grow weary? Your responsibilities are truly arduous. Expecting private favors through pig's trotters and ritual wine—how could that succeed?"

"Yet farmers never abandon their fields due to flood or drought. Since you govern agriculture, why not find contentment in your sacred work? Why chase empty fame by mimicking worldly ways? Henceforth, when harvests flourish, sacrificial rites will naturally grow grand—not just enduring a hundred generations, but lasting as long as heaven and earth."

Impressed by his virtue, I inscribed a plaque for his shrine: "Temple of the Shejiao Agricultural Deity." Originally relocated from Wufu Rock years ago, its reconstruction date appears in roof beam inscriptions—no need for elaboration here. Recorded on the second day after Tianla Festival in the Shetige year (ancient calendrical cycle) by Ao Feng Shanren.

Additional note on the Banner-Dragon Mountain Temple of the Harvest Lord: Lord Weng Chengzan was a remnant subject of the Fuzhou Tang dynasty. He passed the imperial Hongci examination in 897 CE and held high office. During the Five Dynasties chaos when warlords divided the land, with the nation imperiled and governance corrupted, he abandoned family and ancestral graves, changing his name to avoid compromise. Journeying north through White Deer Mountain's perilous peaks...

This passage records the life of Immortal Xu (a Daoist honorific title for perfected beings) during his reclusive cultivation at Mount Qilong. Xu chose to build his hermitage on a flat, open area halfway up Ao Peak, surrounded by clear springs. During that period, the King of Min (ruler of Fujian during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms era) sent envoys with lavish gifts to invite him to serve as an official, but Xu steadfastly maintained his reclusive lifestyle.

Later, when internal strife broke out between warring brothers within the Min Kingdom, retreating soldiers passing by Xu's dwelling, upon hearing of his noble virtue (De), dared not disturb him. By the Tianfu era (936-944 CE) of the Later Jin dynasty, as Southern Tang armies marched southward, local villagers fearing wartime devastation sought Xu's mediation. Dressed in Tang-era robes, Xu paid respects to the Southern Tang generals (later revered as the two Lingji Perfected Lords). Though the Southern Tang court wished to appoint him to office, he again declined official position, choosing instead to cultivate mountain land for self-sufficiency. During bountiful harvests, he would share with neighbors—acts of benevolence widely celebrated among the people.

In 943 CE, celestial omens revealed Xu's earthly lifespan was ending. Knowing his time was near, he donated his farmland to the Heshan Daoist Temple as permanent endowment, praying the two Lingji Lords would ensure local agricultural prosperity. After his passing, villagers enshrined Xu as a deity specifically governing farming matters: regulating rainfall, protecting livestock. Though his shrine temporarily fell into disrepair, communal efforts eventually restored it.

Through Xu's guardianship, the region enjoyed consecutive years of abundant harvests and thriving livestock, with harmonious neighborly relations. The author, Elder Xu of Ao Peak, composed this account in winter 1298 CE, comparing Immortal Xu to renowned Han dynasty recluses like Zheng Zizhen and Yan Junping. The text particularly emphasizes how Xu—more than just an agricultural patron—transformed local customs through his virtue (De), naturally fostering filial piety, marital harmony, and benevolent governance without coercion.