《徐仙翰藻》Vol. 11

This passage is an official proclamation from the Daoist scripture Xu Xian Han Zao concerning the performance of the Luotian Dajiao (the highest-ranking Zhaijiao purification ritual in Daoism). The content is divided into two main sections:

The first part expounds on the importance of human ethical order. It states that humans, as the most spiritual beings among all creatures, should follow the moral principles of "parental kindness and filial piety, fraternal respect and harmony." Particular emphasis is placed on eradicating behaviors where the strong bully the weak or inferiors rebel against superiors, maintaining a social structure with clear hierarchies. Only through this can true peace and prosperity be achieved—such moral instruction is deemed more essential than mere ceremonial sacrifices (with jade silks and ritual music).

The second part outlines a system of evaluation and奖惩 for local deities. It mentions that city gods (Cheng Huang, guardians of city walls) and earth deities (She Ling) will be promoted and rewarded if they properly manage wind, rain, fire, and water while protecting the people's peaceful livelihood. However, those who remain obstinate or tolerate improper worship and corrupt practices will face punishment. The proclamation concludes by stating that these regulations have been reported to the celestial court and communicated to all local Cheng Huang deities.

The text employs numerous parallel rhetorical structures, such as "wind nourishes people as rain nourishes people" paired with "clothing shelters me as food sustains me," and "the moon as the earthly soul (Po), the sun as the heavenly soul (Hun)"—reflecting Daoist principles of Yin-Yang balance. Overall, this document serves as both a sacred religious text and a functional instrument of secular moral instruction.

This scripture primarily addresses Daoist teachings on karmic retribution, divine oversight, and the deliverance of departed souls.

It first emphasizes the importance of upholding virtue (De) and moral integrity, exemplified by the upright conduct of the Eastern Han dynasty official Yang Zhen, whose family legacy of purity naturally earned divine favor. Officials overseeing agriculture, commerce, and craftsmanship must each fulfill their duties with diligence. Those who stray into wicked paths, neglecting fundamental principles and allowing demons to harm the people, will inevitably face the consequences of their actions—regret will come too late. Malevolent spirits that bring suffering to mortals will be severely punished by the gods in accordance with divine law: in the mortal realm, they may suffer posthumous flogging, while in the underworld, dismemberment awaits, executed by the wind-blades and thunder-axes of celestial justice.

The text states that the deities pledge to "support righteousness and eradicate evil" (辅正除邪) and consider "saving the living and delivering the dead" (济生度死) as acts of merit. Now, with the sincere devotion of filial descendants, ancestral spirits may be liberated from suffering. Even long-lost souls languishing in the depths of hell may receive the grace of heaven. These matters have already been reported to the Three Realms' True Offices (the divine bureaus overseeing heaven, earth, and water in Daoist cosmology) and the City God (the local guardian deity).

Following this is a proclamation for the Zhaijiao (purification ritual), describing the ceremonial setting: the qi of the Nine Heavens converges, while deities from the Ten Directions descend through the skies to guard the sacred altar. Incense smoke coils like clouds, and the glow of lamps and candles mingles with the radiance of stars and the moon. Through devout worship, the ideal of "a prosperous nation and thriving people" may be realized. All participants are called to fulfill their roles diligently, reciting scriptures such as the Yuanshi Yuwen (Primordial Jade Script) to purify the Five Viscera and disperse malevolent forces.

Finally, the proclamation issued on behalf of the presiding high priest (Gaogong) states: where there is life, there must be death—though the paths of life and death differ, serving the deceased must be done with the same reverence as serving the living. This embodies the Daoist teaching that honors the cycle of life and death and emphasizes the salvation of departed souls.

How can any child lack a conscience? Moreover, this body and hair of ours did not come from illicit union, nor have our parents ever abandoned us like duckweed cast upon water. Knowing this truth, how can we not be grateful for their kindness? Today, those who emulate Lao Laizi (a famed filial son of the Spring and Autumn period who wore colorful clothes at seventy to amuse his parents) in serving their parents are countless, while those who weep in regret like Gao Yu (another exemplary filial figure who grieved bitterly over failing his parents) are also many.

Filial piety is simple—even plain tea and rice can bring parents heavenly joy. Why wait until they become "dried fish hanging on a line" (a metaphor for death) to feel remorse? Better to offer spring wine while they live than slaughter oxen for lavish funerals. Don’t lament time passing like wind through trees; rejoice instead in this life’s kinship. Only through sincere fasting and devotion can we truly repay parental grace.

A grandparent’s love flows from nature—should grandchildren not remember their ancestors? An uncle’s care need not await honor or wealth. Raising orphans, recall they carry your brother’s blood; nurturing nieces and nephews, think of your departed sibling. Between spouses—whether newlywed joy (like the ancient "shared nuptial cup"), widowed grief (as Zhuangzi drummed on a pot after his wife’s death), youthful vows, or lifelong companionship—all are karmic bonds. Life and death reveal true devotion, the root of human relations and the pivot of moral teaching.

Children instinctively love their parents; how much more does Heaven cherish life itself? On this Zhongyuan Festival (the Taoist Day of Pardon by the Earth Official), we continue the Xuandu (Taoist celestial abode) tradition, joining devotees to forge universal salvation. Regardless of age, gender, or kinship, a kind heart accumulates boundless merit. Though our practice remains shallow, filial devotion guides us—retribution follows like a shadow. Good deeds mound like mountains; misdeeds deepen like seas, often separated by a hair’s breadth.

In humble conclusion: Though untalented, I reverently conduct rituals by Taoist liturgy (Keyi). For any breach of altar propriety, I willingly accept reproof. All is done with impartiality, free from private bias.

This scripture primarily explains how people should commemorate their ancestors, repay familial kindness, and deliver departed souls through virtuous deeds during the Zhongyuan Festival (the Daoist Day of Earth Official's Absolution).

On the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, during the Zhongyuan Festival, the White Emperor (the deity of the West) governs the season, and the Earth Official (one of the Three Officials in Daoism) begins examining the good and evil deeds of the mortal world. Buddhism uses the Ullambana Festival to deliver departed souls, while Daoism conducts the Xuandu Grand Ritual (a major Zhaijiao ceremony). Though the forms differ, both aim to educate the people and honor ancestors. At this time, the Qi between heaven and earth is clear and pure, and plants flourish. People should reflect calmly: our bodies and lives come from our parents, and our homes and sustenance stem from the accumulated virtue of our ancestors—how should we repay this kindness?

The text cites historical exemplars of deep devotion: Grand Tutor Xie An (谢安) never forgot his uncle’s teachings, Imperial Attendant Xue Yuanchao (薛元超) shared family wealth with his brothers, Xie Lingyun (谢灵运) dreamed of his deceased younger brother and wrote the verse "Spring grass grows by the pond," and Han Yu (韩愈) mourned his elder brother during seasonal sacrifices. Even Zhuangzi (the Official of Qiyuan), who drummed on a basin and sang after his wife’s death, and Huang Tingjian (Grand Historian Huang), who wept so bitterly for his deceased sister that he destroyed a wall—these seemingly contradictory actions all arose from genuine emotion.

The scripture emphasizes: if even the ancients cherished such deep bonds, how much more should we resolve to perform good deeds? Especially as the kalpa nears its end (referring to the apocalyptic period), we must aid 120,000 individuals in attaining celestial offices. Now that the merit is complete, may the souls of over 700 departed participants in this ritual be delivered, ascending to the state of Wuwei (a liberated state beyond the cycle of rebirth), forever freed from reincarnation. As for those who are deceitful at heart yet feign piety, or betray trust and abandon righteousness—they naturally cannot receive such deliverance.

In this age of moral decay, people neither revere the Three Jewels of Buddhism (Buddha, Dharma, Sangha) nor uphold the five cardinal virtues of benevolence, righteousness, propriety, wisdom, and trustworthiness. Can such individuals escape karmic retribution? Some who rose from poverty to sudden wealth feel ashamed of their humble origins, while those fallen from prosperity bitterly blame their ancestors for leaving no inheritance. They treat grandparents, parents, uncles, spouses, and siblings with cold indifference, deliberately violating mourning rites as if their kin were strangers. These people behave like heartless beasts, willingly dwelling among animals until their family line perishes without descendants to perform ancestral rites. When they witness impoverished souls who still practice gratitude, shouldn't they feel profound shame?

We establish expedient Dharma gates and host egalitarian assemblies to remove obstacles and cultivate virtuous connections. With equal compassion, we aid all sentient beings—whether deceased or living, whether their spirits receive ancestral sacrifices or not. Through our rituals, even those unrelated by blood become family, jointly participating in purification ceremonies (Zhaijiao) to ascend together to celestial realms. May all awaken to discard greed, anger, and delusion, guiding both ghostly and human paths back to the Daoist transcendence. These words hold profound truth—do not dismiss them lightly.

Regarding the essentials of ritual duties: Serving the divine demands reverent awe and strict observance of purification fasts. Take virtuous elders as teachers, maintaining decorum in daily conduct. Though deities are formless and silent, our devotion must remain unwavering. Following the Golden Register's guidelines, duties divide into six categories with three tiers of evaluation. Just as one consults farmers about crops and weavers about textiles, select personnel based solely on merit. Sharing this sacred space creates karmic bonds—let each fulfill their role with diligence.

This too is fundamental cultivation: Rectify your bearing to earn others' respect. Act prudently to prolong blessings; heed orthodox teachings to attain liberation. Should anyone neglect duties, all must oversee correction; deliberate carefully on major decisions. Strictly uphold precepts, record merits and faults impartially, and administer rewards justly. Without reflection, how can one understand? Without practice, how can one succeed? Remain ever mindful—as you treat others, so shall you be treated. Supreme virtue (De) begins accumulating in this very moment.

This proclamation outlines the organizational principles and purpose of the Huanglu Universal Salvation Ritual (Zhaijiao) in Daoist practice, a major ceremony for the salvation of deceased souls.

First, it emphasizes impartiality in selecting personnel: appointments to religious positions should not be based on favoritism but on merit, just as even fragments of copper and iron are collected when gathering metal. The six types of ritual officers must work in harmony, setting aside past grievances and avoiding rigid adherence to outdated ways. While people inevitably make mistakes, what matters is their willingness to correct them; though the state has laws, it also allows for redemption. Staff should treat their duties with the reverence owed to parents, rewarding merit and clarifying hierarchical relationships through observation of words and deeds.

The second part describes the ritual altar setup: the three-tiered altar symbolizes the Three Powers (Heaven, Earth, and Humanity), the eight directions correspond to the Bagua (Eight Trigrams), a 72-zhang crimson rope represents the 72 seasonal divisions (ancient solar terms), and 81 ritual diagrams embody the numerological significance of nines. The stars serve as celestial markers, with both the Heavenly Gate and Earthly Door fully represented, creating a solemn and orderly sacred space.

Lastly, it depicts the salvation scene: deceased souls return to the righteous path through Confucius’s Wall (symbolizing Confucian teachings) and Chen Fan’s Couch (alluding to the virtue of honoring scholars). The dead and the living sit together without distinction of rank, sharing family stories amid laughter and song. The text stresses that "ghosts are also people" and should be treated with the courtesy due to guests, guiding them toward liberation in the Western Paradise. The ritual supervisors must ensure the ceremony follows proper protocols, allowing the souls to find peace.

This proclamation outlines the disciplinary requirements for participants in Daoist Zhaijiao (purification rituals) and emphasizes the merits of liberating departed souls.

The text depicts the awe-inspiring scene when deities descend upon the altar: the ritual platform towers like a celestial palace, its radiance piercing through the Heavenly Gate (Changhe refers to the celestial entrance), with sacred incense curling around its pillars. The Thunder God (deity governing thunder) clears the path ahead while the Wind Lord (deity governing wind) guards both flanks, as numerous deities solemnly assemble and the Celestial Emperor (supreme Daoist divinity) presides from above. All demonic entities and malevolent spirits (kuichixujue, chimimeiwang) are strictly forbidden from causing disturbances—those discovered will be apprehended immediately, as thoroughly as rabbits caught in nets or wasps severed at the waist with sharp axes, though careful distinction must be made between principal offenders and accomplices to avoid harming the innocent.

It stresses the necessity of impartial and rigorous enforcement: the ritual arena must clearly separate good from evil, as the deities themselves will discern. When heaven and earth are purified, practitioners cultivate the "Great Brahma's Secret Language" (esoteric Daoist scriptures), accumulating boundless merit through Zhaijiao rituals that benefit both the living and the deceased. Devotees must observe precepts reverently—those who intentionally violate them will suffer the consequences.

The proclamation particularly notes that this liberation ritual originated with Elder Kang Shouren (a revered Daoist master) who established it to repay his parents' nurturing kindness, affirming filial piety as the fundamental virtue. Who among the living lacks parents and kin? The living seek to preserve their lives, while the departed yearn for rebirth—only through such merit can liberation be achieved. Finally, it explains that the ongoing "Yellow Register Retreat" (a major Daoist ritual for saving souls) is being conducted for specific deceased individuals, following prescribed ceremonial routes to complete the salvation rites.

The text employs vivid metaphors: "catching all rabbits in one net" illustrates thorough eradication of evil; "applying the sharp axe to a wasp's waist" symbolizes precise strikes; "orchids withering under frost" and "mushrooms burning in fierce winds" warn against collateral damage; while "sand transforming into gold" and "tiles becoming jade" express the ideal of spiritual transformation through cultivation.

At the hour when darkness and light converge, we conduct the Zhaijiao (Daoist purification ritual), maintaining devout spiritual practice throughout the night with meticulous observance of every ceremonial detail. Without you, the divine generals and celestial soldiers (Daoist guardian deities), who would bear witness to this sacred rite? Who would swiftly deliver the Fulu (Daoist talismanic texts) and summoning edicts if not for you? Who would convey memorials and invocations to the celestial court? Who could retrieve wandering souls and restore fractured essences without your aid?

Since you, the divine generals and soldiers, stand guard before this sacred altar, understand this clearly: where one serves as the primary commander, the other assists; where one leads, the other supports. Though distinct in duty, you form an inseparable whole. Each must fulfill your role with reverence—neither boasting of your virtues nor flaunting your merits. Ensure that the living may enjoy their allotted years, entering together the realm of benevolence and longevity. Guide the departed to peaceful rest, wandering freely in the paradise of ultimate bliss. When both the living and the dead receive this grace, all will raise their hands in gratitude, praising the boundless merit of you, the divine generals and soldiers.

On the day your deeds are recorded, your names shall be inscribed in the Shangqing Heaven (one of the highest Daoist celestial realms). This is the secret decree of the Supreme Dao Ancestor (the highest divinity in Daoism), and no falsehood taints it. Should any defy the Dao, transgress cosmic principles, act with arrogance and deceit, or deliberately violate taboos—allowing impurity to ascend to the heavens—you must enforce the Mystic Gate’s laws, eradicating them without remnant. O divine generals and soldiers, unite in diligence and duty! By this proclamation, it is so decreed.

Furthermore: This temple now conducts the grand Xuan Du Zhaijiao for the Zhongyuan Festival (the Daoist day of Earthly Official’s pardon). You are entrusted with its execution. Restrain your ranks in solemn silence and act in strict accordance with precepts. All edicts must be delivered without delay.

Know that the Great Dao resides in emptiness—formless, nameless, and profoundly mysterious. Yet when summoned at the appointed hour (the Si period and Yuan Chen), the divine will descend. But remember: without proper ritual observance, no spiritual practice bears fruit. Now, the Lingbao talismanic decrees (the highest class of Daoist talismans) are activated, proclaiming this to the Nine Heavens. The Red Script and Jade Characters of the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (the supreme Daoist scripture) are unfurled, while the Five Dragons’ sacred waters coalesce into the Qi of the Five Phases, condensing as numinous winds and auspicious mists. The Four Holy Beasts and Fire Steeds gather from all directions like fine rain and dense fog. City gods and earth deities (local guardian spirits) must heed with reverence, while demon kings stand guard at the altar’s flanks. Raise high the majestic authority of the Celestial Worthy of Universal Salvation, planting banners in the palace of Mars. Let wraiths and specters cower in hiding; ensure that demons and fiends dare not stir. The Goddess of Wu Gorge (referring to the immortal maiden of Mount Wu) shall not pry into the ritual’s secrets, and malevolent beings like Chiyou shall crumble to dust.

O divine beings, take heed: do not invite condemnation through your own defilement. Those who offend will face inevitable retribution; repeated defiance leaves no room for repentance. Uphold the Mystic Gate’s laws without fail—deliver the guilty to the judgment of Kuigang (the stars of the Big Dipper governing punishment): beheading and dismemberment, casting them into the cauldrons of dragon-fire (Daoist hell’s torments); or hunting down fugitive souls, severing all paths of escape.

This passage depicts the majestic authority and duties of Daoist guardian deities, as well as sacred scenes of exorcism and protection.

Those who commit evil tremble in fear at the mere mention of the guardian generals' names, and their legs shake uncontrollably when witnessing the deities' manifestations. These divine generals uphold Daoist teachings with strict impartiality, ensuring the revelation of profound cosmic principles and the radiant illumination of the Eight Luminaries (celestial phenomena like sun, moon and stars in Daoism). Beings from the Three Realms come to pay homage, while perfected beings (those who have attained the Dao) oversee the observance of rituals. The guardian deities strike with perfect coordination—neither rushing ahead nor lagging behind—each fulfilling their appointed roles faithfully. Among them, the General of Uprightness safeguards the Dharma, while the Envoy of Equality supervises Zhaijiao (Daoist purification rituals), all performing their duties with reverence and unwavering consistency.

Such meritorious deeds are most sublime—they comfort ancestral spirits above and deliver suffering souls from hell below. Furthermore, they pray for celestial and terrestrial harmony, achieving resonance with divine beings. Remember that the path of ghosts often manifests ferocity, while the way of immortals naturally brings auspiciousness—only thus can we endure eternally. These divine commands must be strictly obeyed without defiance.

The text then describes the majestic scenes at the Golden Portal and Jade Portal Palaces of Perfected Beings beneath the Three Heavens (the highest Daoist celestial realm). Though celestial officials handle affairs diligently, they prioritize both capability and sincerity. As the saying goes: "With ten eyes watching and ten fingers pointing," no act of good or evil escapes impartial judgment. Lone efforts seldom achieve greatness—success requires both civil and martial strategies.

The guardian deities appear awe-inspiring, sometimes visible, sometimes hidden, moving with divine unpredictability. Their past achievements are recorded in sacred texts, yet today they still serve Heaven and Earth with utmost loyalty. Hearing the talismanic summons, they arrive instantly, awaiting assignments in perfect readiness. Like craftsmen following their compasses or physicians discerning medicinal herbs, each performs their specialized role. Servants till fields, maids prepare meals—all contribute according to their abilities. Filled with gratitude, who would consider their offerings unrewarded?

The deities' movements resonate like the Yellow Bell (ancient pitch standard) harmonizing with all things; their rectification of disorder flows as smoothly as a skilled butcher's blade. There should be no mutual suspicion, only united purpose. When exterminating demons, they coordinate with City Gods (local protective deities); when delivering sentient beings, they embody the compassion of Lord Lao (the supreme Daoist deity). Any ghosts violating precepts must be punished according to divine law.

Finally, the text emphasizes maintaining peace in communities so people may thrive. The obstinately wicked must be dealt with like ancient Ministers of Justice—punished according to law; while those defending homes deserve due rewards.

This scripture primarily discusses the celestial deities' oversight and retribution regarding human affairs. It first emphasizes the importance of ensuring every household enjoys prosperity and well-being, warning against harming others. Those who accumulate virtue (De) through good deeds will receive divine rewards. During sacrificial rites, offerings should be prepared with sincere devotion, maintaining proper decorum before the deities. Before the incense altar, one must pray wholeheartedly for the emperor's blessings, while each official should diligently fulfill their duties without negligence.

The text then depicts the celestial envoys dispatched by the deities: some carry jade tablets (Daoist ritual implements) and cinnabar (alchemical material), others oversee medicine, while master builders (craftsmen) skilled in construction are also present. The altar is guarded by divine officers like the General of the Direct Altar and the Envoy of Ritual Supervision—figures of upright appearance and clear voices—who stand alongside the Four Celestial Guardians (Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise). Their presence terrifies malevolent spirits from ten thousand miles away, causing foxes to tremble and jackals to retreat, rendering cunning hares powerless while revealing the majesty of tigers and leopards. The deities' benevolent virtue (De) is invincible; by adhering to their precepts, one may command these formidable forces.

A stern warning is issued to disruptive demons and monsters: minor offenders will be punished like mice gnawing banners, while serious transgressors will face consequences akin to chicks trapped in cages—each receiving due retribution. The text stresses the necessity to distinguish right from wrong, ensuring divine mushrooms (symbolizing purity) remain untainted by poisonous fungi, and auspicious phoenixes never mingle with common fowl. Under heaven's strict statutes, all actions are recorded and reported.

The latter section portrays the grand procession welcoming the Celestial Emperor: some bear ceremonial implements (Hongyi), others raise tiger-emblazoned banners, while some wield white yak-tail standards or golden battle-axes, creating a scene of solemn magnificence. The assembly is encouraged to work in unity—those who perfect their merit will be inscribed in the Southern Palace (abode of immortals), attaining longevity and wealth as rewards for the host's virtuous aspirations.

The concluding postscript, marked "composed on behalf of ritual officiants," reinforces the law of karma: those who accumulate hidden virtue (Yin De) will receive visible blessings in the mortal world, while cultivators of visible virtue (Yang De) will gain illustrious renown. It reveals that the Two Perfected of the Nine Heavens (high-ranking celestial officials) attained their immortal status precisely through profound virtue (De). A final admonition urges the divine officers present to discern truth from falsehood and unite to accomplish their sacred tasks, while treacherous individuals and malevolent spirits will inevitably face severe punishment.

This text is an official proclamation from the Daoist scripture Xu Xian Han Zao, detailing divine retribution for human conduct and rituals for the salvation of lost souls.

The deities judge human actions: minor transgressors are sent to Kuigang (the judicial domain of the Northern Dipper Star Lords) for trial, while the most wicked face decapitation and annihilation of form. Only by following the Dao of Heaven can one bring clarity to the cosmos and invoke divine manifestations. The virtuous are recorded in celestial registers, awarded immortal offices, and freed from worldly turmoil. Those who defy Heaven’s decree, however, invite condemnation from the perfected immortals (those who have attained the Dao).

The proclamation emphasizes redeeming souls fallen into the Three Wretched Realms (hell, hungry ghosts, and beasts). Though the underworld has its appointed officers, warriors must serve like pixiu (mythological fierce beasts), ferrying documents between realms and escorting these souls to the ritual assembly. Literary allusions abound: lines from Summoning the Recluse by Huainan Xiaoshan urge souls not to linger in darkness; Jia Yi’s Lament for Qu Yuan warns against sinking into despair. References to Su Wu’s nineteen-year exile before returning to Han, Ding Lingwei’s transformation into a crane to revisit his homeland, and the homesickness of Zhang Han and Tao Yuanming all serve to summon wandering spirits back.

The text concludes by announcing the altar’s preparation beyond the Golden Rooster Gate, with the Courier Star (divine messenger) ready to assist. May no obstinate souls resist salvation—or they will be handed to Ox-Head and Horse-Face (underworld enforcers). Blending myth, history, and ritual, the proclamation embodies Daoist salvation rites, balancing stern warnings with compassionate exhortations.

This scripture comprises two main sections: the first is a Daoist judicial document regarding wrongful imprisonment, while the second contains invocation texts for the "Blood Bowl Assembly" (a ritual to liberate female deceased spirits).

The first section, delivered in the voice of an underworld magistrate, declares: Though some are confined in prisons, investigation reveals these are not their true offenses. Those who dress respectably yet bring shame upon the common people should be released immediately. The Daoist method emphasizes forgiveness—how could it condone theft? The path of spiritual cultivation inherently brings untrammeled freedom—who would resort to deceit? With heaven and earth so vast, where could wandering souls possibly flee? Cases like Scholar Niu losing the true path or Consort Boji of the Han dynasty seducing through charm, or drunkards causing disturbances on roads and malevolent spirits like Fuqi (possibly a type of demon) seizing opportunities to wreak havoc—such occurrences must not repeat. Lesser demons are warned against obstructing the path and must apprehend troublemakers in accordance with underworld law. Those who repent may, upon achieving complete merit in the future, have their names reported to heaven, receiving protection from the Three Realms' deities and guidance from the Five Directional Thearchs. Even souls in the Ninefold Darkness of hell and ancestors spanning seven generations may attain liberation.

The second section describes a salvation ritual for women. It mentions the 84,000-li-wide lotus pond in Feather Prefecture (a legendary immortal realm), symbolizing boundless spiritual power. Fifty-three Buddhas manifested their great vows during the Universal Light Dharma Assembly, opening the gateways for universal salvation. Devotees confess that as women in the Jambudvīpa world (the human realm), they inevitably become stained with blood defilement during childbirth, treading as cautiously as on thin ice, fearing judgment on the Gengshen Day (when the Director of Fate records transgressions according to Daoist belief). Thus, from the Guisi year onward, some repent to repay maternal kindness, some cultivate blessings, and others vow for rebirth in pure lands. The ritual is specially held on the Third Day of the Third Month (Shangsi Festival, a traditional day for purging misfortunes)—an auspicious date marked by golden Buddha manifestations and Śākyamuni's sermon on Vulture Peak. Four or five high-ranking Daoist masters are invited to conduct the ritual arena, chanting scriptures throughout the night. Before the Karmic Mirror Terrace in Yama's Hall, devotees sincerely worship the Savior from Suffering Celestial Worthy (Jiuku Tianzun); at the Alms Bowl Hermitage (from the tale of Maudgalyāyana rescuing his mother), they prostrate before the Bodhisattva Maudgalyāyana, making offerings to sages of the ten directions and reverently welcoming eight merciful deities. Through these rites, merit pervades the celestial, earthly, and water realms, guiding deceased spirits toward the path to the White Cloud Immortal Abode.

The "blood bowl" refers to the defilement of childbirth blood, which Daoism holds requires specific purification rituals. The inclusion of Bodhisattva Maudgalyāyana—the Buddhist filial savior of mothers in hell—demonstrates characteristic Buddhist-Daoist syncretism.

This scripture primarily expounds on Daoist rituals for the salvation of deceased souls and universal deliverance of sentient beings, while interweaving historical allusions to illustrate karmic retribution and philosophical insights on human existence.

The section on salvation rituals describes offering sweet dew through incantations, lighting lotus lamps to illuminate the darkness of hell, and cleansing the skeletal joints of departed souls with orchid-infused water (a fragrant herbal preparation). It specifically mentions offerings to the Scorched-Face Ghost King (a fearsome underworld deity) and nocturnal purification rites for universal offerings to beings across the six realms of existence—including asura demons and wandering spirits. The scripture prays that deceased souls may be reborn in the Western Pure Land to behold Guanyin Bodhisattva, while living practitioners may enjoy longevity and health, eventually serving the Queen Mother of the West (Xiwangmu).

The latter portion employs historical parables to demonstrate karmic consequences: the foolishness of one who swallowed charcoal to disfigure himself as proof of loyalty, the injustice suffered by another who had his feet amputated after presenting jade. References to Qu Yuan drowning himself in the Miluo River and Boyi & Shuqi starving on Shouyang Mountain illustrate that even historical fame cannot justify neglecting the bodily form gifted by one's parents. Legends like Lingwei transforming into a crane and Liangjie turning into a cat demonstrate how unvirtuous minds risk rebirth in animal realms. The text concludes with contrasts between "nobility and baseness," lamenting worldly impermanence as fleeting as morning clouds and evening rain.

Blending Daoist salvation rituals with Confucian virtues of loyalty, filial piety, and moral integrity, the passage exhorts readers toward virtuous cultivation—offering deliverance for the departed while admonishing the living.

This scripture describes a Zhaijiao (purification ritual) ceremony for the salvation of departed souls, containing several key dimensions:

First, it speaks of the spiritual nature inherent in all living beings: whether the eighty-four thousand microscopic creatures or the three hundred sixty varieties of birds and beasts—parrots chanting Amitabha's name, clams manifesting as Guanyin, sparrows reciting scriptures, swans comprehending the Dharma—all demonstrate the universal Buddha-nature in existence.

The text then details the ritual setup: The patron (zhai-zhu) establishes the sacred space at Yuqing Hall in Lingji Eastern Palace, preparing abundant ritual offerings (hushi) throughout the night. The Dharma gates stand open to deliver all sentient and insentient souls, emphasizing the ceremony's impartiality toward social status or sequence of arrival. All spirits are urged to release worldly attachments and dualistic notions of "self versus other," avoiding entanglement like the proverbial snipe and clam locked in struggle.

The ritual's purpose is then expounded: Throughout the trichiliocosm, all beings are equal. Through sprinkling nectar, scripture recitation, and other rites, souls are liberated from the ghost realm (Guimen Pass) to recognize the path to heavenly realms. A caution is given against becoming lost through rigid adherence to precepts—instead, one should listen with pure heart to the Dharma teachings of the Southern Palace's Yulin Divine Generals and the Queen Mother of the West's scriptural expositions.

Finally, the salvation scene is depicted: Ritual mats are spread to summon souls from the ten directions. Regardless of age, status, or sentience, all approach according to proper order. Through compassionate vows and pure Daoist methods, the departed wash away attachments (free from willfulness, absolutes, obstinacy, and ego), bathe in sweet dew, and ascend collectively to the Azure Primordial Heaven (the Daoist celestial realm of the East), forever liberated from hell's sufferings.

Note: "Preta" (hungry ghosts) and "chrysanthemum blossoms" (symbolizing purity) represent common metaphors in Daoist salvation rituals. Through scripture recitation, food offerings and other rites, the ceremony facilitates liberation for all categories of departed souls.

This scripture is a Daoist proclamation for the salvation of departed souls, consisting of two main sections:

The first section depicts the ritual setting of a zhaijiao (purification ritual) ceremony held on the auspicious Double Third Festival (3rd day of 3rd lunar month). Daoist priests conduct ceremonies at Mount Hu (a sacred Daoist mountain), making supplications to the Purple Mansion (abode of Daoist immortals). Through purification of the six senses (a Buddhist concept referring to sensory perceptions), they plant seeds of virtue in the Spiritual Mountain, symbolizing how departed souls may transform into golden lotuses in the Pool of Feathery Continent (a Daoist paradise). The ritual uses orchid herbs for soul summoning, enabling the deceased to behold the sacred visage of Queen Maya (the Buddha's mother in Buddhist tradition), thereby guiding souls toward the Western Paradise.

The second section contains the formal proclamation to the departed. It explains how human souls separate after death—the hun (ethereal soul) ascends to heaven while the po (corporeal soul) returns to earth. Through zhaijiao rituals, a pathway to the immortal realms is opened for these souls. The text employs vivid metaphors: just as a small well can nurture schools of fish, and pine-clad mountains can shelter flocks of birds, though performed in the human realm, the ceremony benefits all wandering souls. During the ritual, banners flutter and lamps blaze brightly, illuminating the path for the departed. It emphasizes that regardless of social status, all souls may attain transcendence through the "cleansing of form and refinement of substance" (a Daoist purification practice). Finally, it directs souls toward the four directional paradises: the Cloudy Radiance Cave and Green Hill Chambers in the East; the Celestial Ramparts City and Dark Garden Terrace in the West; and the Azure Capital in the South (all names of Daoist celestial realms), urging souls to relinquish attachments and seize this opportunity to awaken to the Dao and achieve perfection.

To the north of the Flowing Fire Mountains stands the Violet Void Immortal Palace known as the Tai Xuan Mansion. This sacred site has endured for millennia, separated from the mundane world by a million miles—utterly inaccessible and unknown to ordinary mortals. Here, the Ten Directions Great Sages (the highest rank of Daoist immortals) roam and rest, and exalted transcendents from the Three Realms (Heaven, Earth, and the Netherworld) gather in communion.

Governance here follows the principle of Wuwei (non-action), and the people embody purity and simplicity. None fret over food or clothing, for all are born with dignified features. There are no distinctions of nobility or commonality, no gaps between rich and poor, no debates over right and wrong—not even the concepts of "you" or "I." Neither taking nor giving exists, nor do love and hatred. Life continues naturally, forms endure effortlessly, yet nothing truly perishes. The world remains eternal, unshaken by the cosmic cycles (kalpas) of destruction and renewal.

Here, the sun and moon shine perpetually bright, winds and rains arrive in their seasons, the four phases revolve as they should, and the Five Grains (Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water) yield abundant harvests year after year. Exotic flowers and miraculous fruits bear illustrious names, while divine lingzhi herbs and auspicious grasses flourish in countless forms. Creatures of iridescent hues abound; nine-colored phoenixes and three-legged divine birds (symbolizing the golden crow of the sun) are commonplace, alongside sacred tortoises that live for centuries. At night, jade dogs bark, and at dawn, golden roosters herald the day. Mist-wreathed immortal peaks mirror vast rivers, composing a celestial landscape utterly unlike the mortal realm.

This realm exists in a state of primordial chaos, as if still in the age of the ancient sage Fu Xi. Yet who could imagine that even such a paradise might face the final kalpa (cosmic dissolution)? How could one not find joy and fulfillment in dwelling here? If you wandering spirits wish to glimpse that world, I have heard of wondrous methods to bridge the path.

Now, the Mystic Capital Rite (a grand Daoist Zhaijiao purification ceremony) shall commence. The ritual space must remain solemn to commune with the Netherworld. We shall summon the Celestial Physicians (divine healers), present the Divine Tiger Edict (a summons to the spirits), perform the Youth Liturgy (rituals by young adepts), and engage in the Hun Yuan practice (cultivation of primordial Qi). We shall bow in repentance to all directions, receive precepts and talismans, offer sacrifices to the Ten Yama Kings, and confess transgressions before the deities of the Three Realms. Scriptures will be expounded, classics recited; lanterns will illuminate the dark realms, and vast offerings (food for the departed) will be distributed to succor all beings.

Bathing in the Hua Pool cleanses past karmic obstructions. When opening the Nether Path, proceed steadfastly—never look back. A five-zhang azure jewel and a pearl no larger than a millet grain hang suspended in the void, unlocking the Nine Heavenly Gates. This path leads directly from the Great Floating Loam (a Daoist paradise) to the Primordial Azure Heaven (one of the highest celestial realms). My words are true—listen well. Let this proclamation be known.

A further note:

Now is the season ruled by the Metal Deity (the West's sovereign), with Shao Hao (the White Emperor of the West) wielding authority. The Zhongyuan Festival (15th day of the 7th lunar month) marks the inspection of the Registers (judgment of mortal fates), while the Double Seventh (7th day of the 7th month) celebrates divine birthdays. Following the seasonal customs of Jing-Chu, these traditions endure to this day.

This passage conveys the author's reflections on life while observing the transformations of nature, along with descriptions of Daoist rituals for the salvation of departed souls.

Witnessing fallen leaves drifting and cold dew condensing, one cannot help but lament the swift passage of time—the irretrievable past. Though tempted to emulate the ancient poets like Song Yu, who composed soul-summoning verses, or Jia Yi, who wrote elegies for the departed, there remains the fear that the spirits may not perceive such efforts. Thus, the author resolves to guide the souls through Daoist rites.

Daoist teachings hold that the Most High Lord Lao (the supreme deity of Daoism) possesses scriptures for relieving suffering, while the Lingbao tradition (a major Daoist school) prescribes liturgies (Keyi) for restoring life. These are essential methods for transcending the cycle of life and death. Birth and death are ultimately one; at the highest stage of cultivation, the distinction between them dissolves.

Now, a patron (the host of the ritual) has vowed to conduct this ceremony, opening a gateway of compassion for the departed. The souls are admonished: Do not cling to the mortal world, for neither east nor west, north nor south offers true refuge. Liberation lies within the heart's inner cultivation (方寸之心), leading directly to the Celestial Realm of Primordial Azure (始青天). There, the Five Directional Youth Attendants (五方童子) shall descend bearing lotus blossoms to guide them onward.

Within this sacred assembly, no distinction is made between noble or common, recent or ancient—all souls must compose themselves with solemn reverence. They are reminded: Rather than gathering wild herbs in the netherworld (a metaphor for hardship), come partake of celestial feasts; rather than clothing yourselves in lotus leaves, don robes woven of cloud-silk. Even a scholar like Su Shi yearned for such transcendence.

Blending personal meditation with Daoist ritual tradition, this passage reveals the religion's unique perspective on life and death, as well as its compassionate concern for guiding souls beyond suffering.

Do hunger and cold truly befit the ambition of a noble scholar? His pursuit lies not in mere sustenance, but in transforming that spark of lofty spirit into universal nectar. From the celestial realms of Fuli to the azure heavens of Shiqing, ascending from the realm of form to the formless, Mount Tai stands as the Eastern Peak's divine court. Passing through the lesser celestial gate to enter the greater, one must never lose direction—all paths should ultimately return to the Dao.

Consider those wandering ghosts and solitary spirits: in life they drifted like duckweed; in death they find stillness—why then cling to earthly appetites? Perhaps it is because their souls lack refuge that such attachments arise. A sip of celestial ambrosia stirs countless emotions; pounding mystical frost reveals the maiden of clouds. When I contemplate the depth of this verse, is its true meaning that mere delicacies cannot satisfy hunger? Weaving robes of purple mist, toiling without joy—do I sense here that simple warmth cannot clothe the body?

Of celestial immortals I dare not speak lightly. But regarding the ways of spirits and ghosts, they ultimately depend on mortal offerings: pure grains for sacrifice, cloth and silk for burial. Are these not the very foundations of their existence? Thus Confucius said, "Coarse food and water, a bent arm for a pillow—joy lies therein." Zilu declared, "I would share my horses, carriages, and light furs with friends, wearing them out without regret." Mencius taught, "With mulberries planted on five acres of land, those of fifty may wear silk," and again, "A hundred acres timely tended will spare an eight-member household from hunger." These sages' words, preserved in classics, were meant for all humanity.

Recall the starving man of Yisang who chose to remain a warrior, clinging to his coarse robe and nearly missing his lord's summons. How austere the sandal-weaver twisting hemp, how pure the lotus-gatherer dining on chrysanthemums! Food and clothing form life's foundation—not a day can pass without them. Yet pity those bones buried in battlefield sands, their sorrow moving heaven and earth, their remains becoming foreign soil, their souls reduced to ghosts of alien lands. Without offerings, what becomes of them? Duke Cheng of Wei dreamed of Kangshu lamenting, "They steal my sacrifices." Did the ghosts of Ruo'ao not starve? When offerings cease, what recourse remains?

Consider too the mantis stalking cicadas, hounds chasing hares, hens pecking insects, eagles snatching mice—all labor for sustenance without malice.

This passage is a proclamation from the Daoist scripture Xu Xian Han Zao concerning the salvation of wandering souls, specifically addressing the teachings of liberating orphaned spirits during the Ullambana Festival (known in Daoism as the Zhongyuan Fahui, or Middle Prime Ritual Assembly).

The text begins with metaphors drawn from various insects—bees, flies, mosquitoes, lice, ants, and moths—to illustrate how all living beings cling to life. Since all creatures possess spiritual awareness, why not turn toward the righteous path? Now that these orphaned souls partake in the ritual offerings of sacred food, don ceremonial robes, and listen to the Dharma teachings, regardless of whether they are claimed or unclaimed, visible or invisible—all ten categories of wandering spirits must relinquish greed and suspicion, abandoning attachments to distinctions between self and others. Only then can they attain liberation.

Upon salvation, the departed souls will attain freedom: journeying south to expansive wilderness, dwelling north in serene lands, traveling west to the realm of shadows, or bathing east in the light of primordial chaos—reaching a state of boundless ease where "there is no heaven above nor earth below." The devotees hosting this ritual assembly on the Day of Earth Official's Amnesty do so both to honor their ancestors and to universally deliver all beings. Though they provide clothing and sustenance for the departed, what matters more is helping these souls realize the truth that life and death are as transient as floating foam.

The proclamation admonishes the wandering spirits: do not bully the weak out of arrogance, nurse grievances, or seek vengeance; do not turn against one another in strife. Rather than opposing each other, break down barriers and penetrate the truth that "form is emptiness"—only then can they reach the shore beyond turmoil. Such virtuous deeds can only be performed by filial children and benevolent individuals. Though the living conduct the ritual, its ultimate benefit lies with the departed, liberating souls shrouded in darkness.

This scripture passage expounds the principles of spiritual cultivation and karmic retribution, admonishing sentient beings against clinging to material pleasures lest they fall into the suffering of cyclic rebirth.

It first distinguishes worldly attachments: food may be refined or coarse, garments may be luxurious or humble—these being life's necessities. Yet for beings in the ghostly realms, such distinctions hold no meaning, for they lack tongues to savor food or physical forms to wear clothing. The suffering of samsāra arises precisely from such grasping desires and attachments.

Illustrating karmic consequences through classical allusions: The Duke of Jin (referring to a Spring and Autumn period statesman) was reborn as an ox due to gluttony—for oxen possess mouths to graze; commoners obsessed with fine garments transformed into swine—for swine have bodies to bear fur. When pressed by hunger and cold, how can one uphold propriety and integrity?

The text then exhorts beings to relinquish contention: Do not emulate the hound Han Lu and hare Dongguo in their endless chase, nor imitate the oriole and mantis preying upon one another. Rather, follow the example of generals Lu Kang and Yang Hu who reconciled enmity during the Three Kingdoms period, or ancient sages like You Yu and Zi □ who fostered harmony between rival states.

Finally, it depicts the liberated state of cultivation: The divine lamp (representing wisdom's radiance) shines universally like the sun, while dharma nectar moistens all like gentle rain. Through accumulating merit, one may ascend the jade steps (symbolizing celestial realms) and inscribe their name upon the golden registers (Daoist immortal records). All beings are called to treat each other equally and participate jointly in the boundless dharma assembly.

By contrasting human existence with ghostly realms, this scripture warns against material attachments while advocating virtuous cultivation as the path to transcend samsāra and attain the Dao of immortality.

This passage depicts the myriad facets of worldly existence and the impermanence of human life, revealing the illusory nature of fame and fortune through a series of contrasts.

The text observes that the human heart is already difficult to fathom, let alone the ways of the divine. The incense offerings at sacred mountains, ancient sites, and spirit shrines are like the tolling bells and howling gibbons of Mount Heng—seemingly efficacious, yet ultimately illusory. Though the iron horse statue carved on Yellow Ox Rock may respond to dreams, it remains but an empty image. Even those who claim vast supernatural powers still depend on blood sacrifices from the mortal realm.

The author questions: Who with eyes and ears would willingly enslave themselves to external things? Who with mouth and body would willingly suffer hunger and cold? Those who once presented jade tablets to curry favor with the powerful—where are those tablets now? Those who sacrificed themselves for their country—does the nation still remember them? Like the steeds of Chaoyang that refuse to advance when the road is too long, or the sea-goat that cannot produce milk despite nineteen years of effort—all is futile.

Blades rust before they are used; oars are lost before they strike the water. Though the human soul differs from rotting wood, worldly achievements are ultimately like phantom flowers. Some care not for wealth and status; others pay no heed to right and wrong, dwelling instead in mountain forests with clouds and the moon. The alchemical furnace may still stand, but its smoke has long turned to ash; the meditation shrine remains, yet the flesh has crumbled to dust.

The text also mocks charlatans and performers: dwarves in plays cannot escape the censure of sages, and spirit-mediums who feign divine possession will meet their retribution. The death-defying acts of tightrope walkers and sword-swallowers, the deceitful tricks of fortune-tellers, and the cunning schemes of profiteers are all as vain as boats and carts jostling at a crossing. Though all may live alike, their fates in death differ vastly.

Finally, it speaks of the loyal and righteous: soldiers who die for their country on the battlefield, their tongues severed yet eyes still blazing with fury, their flesh devoured yet bodies unbowed. Like the flames of Mount Yan, which burn not for a single snake, and the vast waters of the Miluo River, which hold more than just flocks of birds. The author laments that men fail to understand when to advance or retreat, like minced meat that cannot discern the reason for its fate. Those who imitate the roars of bears find their schemes exhausted; those who hunt snakes for a living dwindle in number.

Excessive wealth harms its possessor; lasting beauty becomes a curse. Yet in this turbid, rushing world, no one speaks these truths. Pitiable are those who meet untimely ends, marching innocently to their doom. As for the slack-jawed gluttons who wait to be fed, their bellies swollen without shame, or the ragged poor, more tattered than a quail's molting feathers—their mouths sharp as beaks, their necks elongated like cranes—these are the marks of the gaunt women of Xia Mountain (a veiled reference to those emaciated by poverty).

This scripture passage describes a ritual for the salvation of departed souls, containing three main layers of meaning:

First, it explains that all living beings possess an innate inclination toward the Dao. Whether creatures born from wombs or eggs, or feathered and scaled animals—though lacking human nature—they all share this fundamental orientation toward the Dao. Even beings in the ghost realm (guidao) or animal realm, whether registered in the celestial records or not, deserve equal salvation. Like fish nourishing each other through shared bubbles, they shouldn't imitate beasts trapped in mutual destruction. Regardless of cultural differences between southern and northern regions, or between people of Qin and Yue territories, all should be treated with equal compassion.

Next, it recounts the origins of this ritual. A devotee surnamed Liang seeks to repay ancestral kindness: his father's labor in building their home, his grandfather's loving generosity, his grandmother's nurturing care, and his uncle's instructive words. At White Water Plain (the burial site), he consulted a fengshui master (referred to as the "Blue Bird," representing geomancy specialists) to select an auspicious location. Having previously vowed to perform this salvation ritual, he now prepares during the golden autumn season, arranging purified offerings (zicheng refers to ritual grains) and respectfully establishing the altar.

Finally, it details the soul-summoning ritual itself. The priests first purify the altar with sprinkled water, then summon wandering souls from all directions. For malevolent spirits (symbolized by metaphors like "tyrant hounds" and "wolf warriors") who harbor ill intent and spy on the living world, they'll be subdued according to Daoist canon law (xuanlü) by the celestial marshals Kuigang (divine generals under the Northern Dipper's jurisdiction). As for pitiful orphaned souls and lingering spirits, they're invited to partake in this universal salvation ceremony—assured of ample clothing and food, cleansed through ritual bathing, and collectively ascending the immortal ranks. The concluding phrase "List of Orphaned Souls" indicates this is a proclamation posted before the ritual altar.

This scripture primarily expounds on the path of spiritual practice for resolving grievances and delivering departed souls, which can be understood in two parts:

The first half discusses attitudes toward human relationships. It admonishes practitioners to let go of past grievances—dissolving old resentments like orchids and maintaining virtuous connections as steadfastly as metal or stone. Feed those who hunger, clothe those who shiver, wash another's feet with clear waters, and purify their hearts with mountain springs. Only through such cultivation can one transcend worldly attachments; otherwise, one risks falling into delusion and confusion. Gazing upon the radiant light of immortal palaces and golden towers—is not pursuing such a state truly joyful?

The latter half shifts to the ritual for delivering departed souls. It describes a Daoist-devoted woman who succumbed to an incurable back abscess, now requiring the power of deities like the Guardian of Ritual Purity (Jianzhai shizhe, a Daoist protector) and the General of Direct Judgment (Zhijia jiangjun, an underworld commander) for her liberation. The text demands that ox-headed jailers (hell guards) cease tortures like fiery beds and iron flails, releasing wronged souls from suffering. It calls for all wandering spirits trapped in the four forms of birth and six paths of rebirth (Buddhist concepts of samsara) to participate equally in the ritual—without hierarchy or division. Ultimately, souls near and far shall joyfully gather, harmoniously receiving deliverance through the ceremony’s interconnected stages.

A key emphasis is that heaven and hell exist within a single thought—Daoist cultivation focuses on the "inch-square heart" (one’s innermost mind), avoiding excessive attachment to form. The entire ritual aims to harness spiritual practice’s power, freeing souls from hell’s torments and collectively forging virtuous karmic bonds.

This scripture primarily expounds on the philosophy of the cycle of life and death and returning to the great Dao (the Way), which can be understood in two parts:

The first half employs metaphors to illustrate the realms of human existence: A compassionate heart is an impartial heart, just as clear water may wash hat tassels while muddy water may wash feet. Ordinary people often conflate purity and impurity, clinging to basic needs like food and warmth. But those with true aspiration should pursue the great Dao (the highest truth in Daoism), seize the opportunity to break free from the cycle of ghostly rebirth, and take advantage of the auspicious alignment between heaven and humanity to allow their souls to return. This return means entering the formless void of Dao-De (Virtue/Power), which is to return to the source of the Dao.

The latter half adopts a mournful tone to explain the true meaning of death: Death is returning to the great Dao, which itself has no fixed form and exists in a state of primordial darkness. The text mentions a soul who had passed thirty-seven years prior—because his daughter fell incurably ill during his lifetime, he listened to deceptive superstitions that disturbed his Shen (spirit), ultimately leading to his daughter's death and plunging him deeper into grief. Not even the renowned physician Huan Heshang (an ancient healer) could cure this affliction. This experience caused him to lose his way home, and only now does he realize he must return to the great Dao.

Finally, it offers guidance for cultivation: Amid desolate and sorrowful circumstances, practitioners should maintain compassion, resisting the encroachment of false paths through cultivation and vigilance, helping lost souls return to the true path. Whether in the heavenly realm, human realm, or the hell realms among the six paths of rebirth, all are fundamentally manifestations of the Dao—formless and soundless, free from the delusions of greed, anger, and ignorance. Once returned to the great Dao, one will never again be troubled by concerns of food and clothing, attaining true liberation and enlightenment. Yet it cautions that neither the east nor the south is the ultimate destination (implying one must return to the source of the Dao).

This scripture primarily expounds on the impermanence of life and death while exhorting departed souls to turn toward the Dao.

It begins by illustrating how neither the western shifting sands nor the northern flying snow can sustain permanent dwelling, metaphorically revealing life's transience. The wandering souls are urged to repent and take refuge in the Dharma of the Dao, for only then can they collectively reach the shore of liberation. Even the most exhilarating pleasures of song and dance pale in comparison to the joy of attaining the Dao.

The text then explains that life and death are as natural as the alternation of day and night, an endless cycle persisting since ancient times. Ghosts and deities manifest the transformations of Yin-Yang, their origins tracing back to infinity. A single thought differentiating good from evil leads to two entirely distinct outcomes—suffering or bliss. People often lose their original heart-mind, chasing after illusions. Fortunately, in this sagely era, a universal salvational method has been established: propagating Daoist scriptures that teach reverence for ancestors, familial piety, and the widespread practice of benevolence. Such virtuous opportunities are truly rare.

The wandering orphaned souls linger in the netherworld, trapped in endless nights. Beyond the immeasurable suffering of samsara, observe how they are burdened by material desires and confined by physical forms, sinking into dark desolation—some wailing beneath the stars and moon, others lamenting in wind and rain. Without ancestral offerings or proper burial, they gaze from distant horizons seeing no kin, yearning for hometowns amid setting suns and fragrant grasses yet unable to return. Such scenes evoke profound sorrow and compassion.

Fortunately, through sincere sacrificial rites—the Golden Register Purification (Jinlu Zhaijiao, a Daoist salvation ritual) and the immortal abode of the Most High Lord Lao (Taishang Laojun)—a wondrous method for rebirth and liberation from death is provided. To cleanse your thoughts and purify your hearts, heed the Precepts of the Nine Perfected (Jiuzhen Jie). May you be clothed and nourished abundantly, freed from the Five Sufferings (birth, aging, sickness, death, and separation from loved ones), forever dwelling in carefree ease without obstructions. Thus it is proclaimed.