《南華真經註疏》Vol. 1

Preface to the Commentary and Subcommentary on the True Classic of Southern Florescence

My friend Mr. Fugui has completed his commentary on the Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue. All who understand the matter rejoice that the orthodox lineage of the Supreme Lord Lao has at last been brought to light, making its origins clear. Yet the Classic of Southern Florescence was written precisely to expound the Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue. Its language is vast and surging, its central meaning profound and remote, and its substance reaches directly into the beginning of the dark, primordial expanse—without beginning and, in the end, without end. Scholars have struggled to find their way through it. Mr. Fugui said, “The Record of the Unusual was a book of strange tales. How can I know the true meaning of its account of the Kun fish and the Peng bird? How can I avoid repeating the mistakes of earlier commentators, who speculated recklessly?” For several years, Fugui devoted himself to the Classic of Southern Florescence. Then, in the spring of the guiyou year, he suddenly awakened to its meaning: this classic is in truth the ancestor of the Elixir Classics. The Kun fish is the “Water Tiger” of the Elixir Classics, and the Peng bird is their “Fire Dragon.” Once these two phrases are penetrated, the whole Classic of Southern Florescence becomes clear, with every difficulty yielding readily.

From Guo Xiang and Xiang Xiu onward, through the collection Laozi and Zhuangzi: Wings, compiled by Jiao Yiyuan, there have been more than a hundred commentaries, even among the finest. Yet commentators did not know that the Classic of the Dao and Its Virtue also contains teachings on Chan; only Lu Xixing grasped a little of their surface. The heart of the matter lies in the highest truth: “True form is formless; true emptiness is not empty.” The Immortals and the Buddhas follow different paths, yet arrive at the same destination. Even Lu Xixing remained bewildered by this, though it is the very marrow of the teaching.

Zhuangzi lamented that, a thousand years later, the Dao arts would be divided and the world left incomplete. Unless he reminded people of the ancient Dao of Wuwei, they could not return from deliberate action to uncarved simplicity, or raise benevolence and righteousness to the level of Dao and De. What is more, the habit of contention grows ever stronger and the pursuit of profit ever more widespread—where will it end? Zhuangzi says, “With Wuwei, one has more than enough to serve the world; with action, one is not enough for the world’s use.” This is precisely the Confucian way of “the ruler at ease while the ministers labor.” He says, “Enter nowhere and be hidden; emerge nowhere and shine; stand like a bare tree at the center.” This is the Daoist practice of “feeding on Qi.” He says, “Regard life and death as one thread, and ‘yes’ and ‘no’ as one whole.” This is the Buddhist way of “neither arising nor ceasing.”

Scholars should study the commentaries and subcommentaries on the Classic of Southern Florescence with care. Not only could the Daoist and Buddhist traditions not go a single day without it; our Confucian tradition, too, can draw on it. Those who rise to positions of influence and authority, if they aspire to restore the ancient ways, must regard government through Wuwei as the highest form of rule. Those who remain obscure and low in station, if they seek to advance, must understand that Dao and De surpass benevolence and righteousness. How, then, can one attack or denounce these teachings merely because their principles need not be verified by the senses and their language need not conform to every age, or because they strike at sage wisdom and exhaust the systems of names and laws?

In general, the book known as the Classic of Southern Florescence…

(The rest of the text concerns specific methods of Elixir practice: visualization techniques such as picturing a human form being pierced, Qi entering the plain area of the navel, and Shen gathering as the gaze turns inward; as well as stages of practice such as “breathing out and drawing in the three horses” and making nine revolutions as a cycle. These are the essential teachings of Neidan and primordial Qi: extracting gold from life as a ladder for its return. Their meaning is interconnected and gives a profound account of what Wenqiang describes.)

Preface by Zou Zhongyun

(Zou Zhongyun, a friend and younger brother from Jinling, bows his head in respect and offers this preface.)

The complete text of the True Classic of Southern Florescence (Nanhua Zhenjing) runs to more than a hundred thousand characters. Much of it follows a pattern of stating an idea first, then unfolding it at length, so nearly every sentence reaches into profound depths. Earlier commentators on the Nanhua often failed to put its teachings into practice themselves, and wrote before they had grasped its meaning. Their commentaries largely repeated what had been said before. When they discussed the study of Dao and De, and of nature and life, their words were like chewing wax: dull and tasteless.

Reading this commentary on the True Classic of Southern Florescence, by contrast, is like eating honey: sweet from edge to center. It may be said to have no equal among those who came before or those who will come after. Master Hu, its author, is still in the prime of life, yet he gave up the civil service examinations to devote himself to seeking the meaning of the Dao. His commentary penetrates the very spirit of the Nanhua. Should future readers awaken to its meaning through this work, as if suddenly enlightened at dawn, they must not forget the pioneering work of those who knew and understood before them, and who opened the way for later students.

In antiquity, Zhu Xi, known as Zhu Ziyang, commented on the classics and set a standard for the ages. Now Fu Guizi has written commentaries on the Dao De Jing and the Nanhua, offering profound interpretations that may likewise endure for ages. Both men came from Xin’an. I write this preface in the hope that their names may be passed down together and remain imperishable.

Fu Guizi’s Preface to His Commentary on the True Classic of Southern Florescence

Fu Guizi says: The Dao De Jing may be regarded as the ancestral text revered by the Three Teachings. The Most High (a Daoist title for the supreme deity), moved by compassion for people who could neither understand the study of nature and life—the way of preserving one’s original nature and nurturing life—nor receive its true transmission, had no choice but to manifest as the Perfected One of Southern Florescence, Zhuangzi, and write the Nanhua to reveal its hidden intent.

Its parables are like the metaphorical mode of poetry, using things to illuminate principles, and their purpose is to teach people to preserve their nature and safeguard their lives. “Repeated sayings” lend added weight to the teaching by putting it in the mouths of the ancients, so that people will trust and follow the teaching on preserving life. “Cup sayings”—words that change with their vessel and take no fixed form—vary in countless ways. Their pleasing language delights the mind, prompting readers to seek the true intent behind the words and leading them to wish to escape the world’s entanglements and let their spirit roam in the realm of nature and life. For later students, the text serves as a bridge and boat across the waters; its usefulness could hardly be greater.

Commentaries on the Nanhua began with Guo Xiang, continued with Xiang Xiu, and culminated in Jiao Gan’s Wings to Laozi and Zhuangzi. Across the ages there have been more than a hundred commentators, yet they remain separated from the truth by layer upon layer of mountains. Even Li Qinglian, Li Bai, for all his brilliance, read the Nanhua and composed his “Rhapsody on the Great Peng” while mistaking the empty for the real. The freer his language became, the farther he strayed from the true meaning. Small wonder that worldly scholars take phoenixes for pheasants and regard divine dragons as monstrous fantasies.

I reflect on these words: the Book of Changes says, “An old man takes a young wife; a withered poplar puts forth new shoots,” suggesting that life may arise amid what seems contrary to the natural order. The Buddha in the Lotus Sutra accepts the dragon girl’s offering of a jewel; the Vimalakirti Sutra says, “Unless one enters the great sea of afflictions, one cannot obtain the jewel of omniscience”; and Chan Master Yunyan says, “Pass through a thicket of flowers without a leaf clinging to your body.” All these point to the same intent as the alchemical texts’ teaching of “taking Kan to fill Li,” an image in Neidan for harmonizing Yin-Yang, water and fire. Without understanding this, one’s commentary on the Nanhua is like eating honey without tasting it: all one’s words are wasted.

This passage discusses methods of cultivation and the origin of Heaven and Earth. Its meaning in plain language is as follows:

How cultivation methods differ and converge

Some methods may appear different because they emphasize different things at the stages of entering the path and refining oneself. This is like the “different paths” spoken of in the Book of Changes: the routes differ. Yet in the end, none cannot be united and none cannot become one. All reach completion and fulfillment, as the Book of Changes says: “Different paths lead to the same destination.” The Buddha said, “My mother gave birth to me, yet I came first”; an Immortal Master said, “My body existed first, before Heaven and Earth.” The commentators on the True Classic of Nanhua claimed that they themselves existed before Heaven and Earth. In my commentary on the Nanhua today, I dare not claim that I existed before Heaven and Earth. I only understand how the nine heavens and nine earths, and the accumulated Qi and accumulated matter, came into being.

Where Heaven and Earth came from

Someone asked, “What gave birth to Heaven and Earth?” The answer: Before chaos, there was not only no Heaven and Earth; there were not even the Five Phases. There was only a single Qian Metal. This Metal had Qi but no substance. It was the root of creation and transformation, and so it could give birth to Heaven and Earth, as well as to Water, which is the beginning of the Five Phases. The Golden Elixir of the Immortals and the vajra of the Buddhists both draw upon primordial Qian Metal. Students must understand: Metal and Water are ordinary lead; Metal within Water is true lead. With true lead, one can restrain Wood and Fire as they surge and soar; with true mercury, one can restrain the heaviness of Metal and Water. When lead and mercury unite, the Neidan (internal alchemy) is formed.

Essentials of cultivation

But if you merely circulate the lead and mercury within your own body, without knowing that solitary cultivation in stillness can cause Qi to turn dry and depleted. If you focus exclusively on methods of gathering and replenishing, without understanding that true emptiness is not empty and true form is not form, you will go astray. Once you have heard the Great Dao, you should seek an outer protector, find companions among the clouds, and look for a blessed land. If even one of these three is lacking, a host of demons will surely turn it into an obstructing condition. When your three thousand eight hundred meritorious deeds and practices are equal to Heaven, a cauldron will naturally be ready to cook the Dragon and Tiger.

How this commentary came about

My ancestor, the elder Cheng Liangfeng, loved reading the Nanhua and often had insights that went beyond the ordinary. When I was growing up in his household, he would frequently instruct me, and I dare not forget his teachings. People of old said that the Nanhua was a commentary on the Daode Jing. Today I take the Daode Jing as my basis for commenting on the Nanhua—it is like a drunkard suddenly sobering, or a dreamer abruptly waking. I dare not wake alone; I hope all under Heaven will wake with me. I dare not be enlightened alone; I hope all under Heaven will become enlightened with me. If the Most High and the Immortal Elder of Nanhua approve of the effort I have put into this commentary, may they soon join me with an outer protector and companion; then the time for my journey to the gathering at Dragon Sand will be near.

A Plain-Language Interpretation

One day, I may be summoned to take up an immortal office such as “summoning phoenixes and riding cranes.” I cannot yet say for certain. But this is the resolve that moved me to write this commentary and exposition.

Inscription for the Commentary and Exposition on the Nanhua Perfected Scripture

The Dao De Jing and the Nanhua Perfected Scripture (that is, the Zhuangzi) are two classics that, between Heaven and Earth, are like a bright pearl hidden in a deep pool and fine jade glowing within a mountain. When these classics are preserved in the human world, it is like someone holding uncut jade in the mountains or keeping a pearl-bearing shell in the depths: they have clearly come upon a treasure, yet cannot recognize it as one. This has been a great regret throughout the ages.

My friend, Master Fugui, was born in the south but went north to study. He once sat for the civil service examinations in the Qi-Lu region, but did not pass. Those who do not understand think his luck was simply poor. Those who do understand say that perhaps the Most High Lord Lao and the Perfected Nanhua (Zhuangzi) did not want him to win fame and success in his own time. Instead, they wished him to set down his learning in books and pass it on for generations to come.

So, at the age when he knew Heaven’s Mandate, Fugui traveled beyond the ordinary world. Drawing on the learning of nature and life, he annotated and explained the Dao De Jing and the Nanhua Perfected Scripture, laboring day and night for years without growing weary. If the Immortal Elder had not repeatedly manifested his powers, how could Fugui’s spirit have grown ever more vigorous and his strength ever more abundant as he wrote?

Now, when those false Confucians of the world—who fear Buddhism and Daoism in their hearts but denounce them as heresies with their mouths, or who lack the true cultivation of a Confucian yet outwardly reject Buddhism and Daoism to curry favor with Confucians—see this commentary and exposition, should they not be so ashamed that they wish the ground would open beneath them?

These two scriptures can thus be regarded as the complete foundation of the Three Teachings: Confucianism, Buddhism, and Daoism. When commentaries on them are preserved in the human world, whether or not readers understand them, it is like cutting open unworked jade to reveal true jade, or opening a shell to find a bright pearl. It is also like the clouds and mist parting from the vast sky, allowing those within the Three Teachings, today, to see the true faces of the Most High and Nanhua.

If anyone in the world, upon seeing these “faces,” seeks out the spirit within them, then the title Collection for Capturing the Spirit will be well deserved.

Respectfully composed after ritual purification by Cheng Yining of Haiyang

Respectfully inscribed with a deep bow by the Daoist friend Wang Boxiu, known as Liaofan, of the same county