《純陽三書》Vol. 3

The Venerable Patriarch Lü Chunyang (also known as Lü Dongbin, one of the Eight Immortals) addressed his disciples: "Today, I have gathered you all to expound in detail the profound mysteries of attaining the Great Dao. This Dao is neither heterodox paths nor gradual cultivation methods—it is the supreme Golden Elixir (Jinye Dan, the highest achievement of Daoist internal alchemy), capable of elevating both the physical form and the primordial spirit (Shen) to wondrous states. It is the unparalleled method of dual cultivation of nature and life (Xingming Shuangxiu, the simultaneous refinement of body and spirit).

The Qingjing lineage, established by the Supreme Venerable Sovereign (Taishang Laojun), emphasizes utmost emptiness, profound stillness, and natural non-action (Wuwei). It cultivates within the undifferentiated chaos before the separation of innate nature and life-force—this is the supreme and wondrous Dao of spontaneous nature. Yet in this degenerate age, humanity’s innate endowment weakens further, the truth of the Great Dao is obscured, and the path of cultivation grows ever more arduous.

Out of compassion, the Supreme Venerable Sovereign opened expedient methods. Through the teachings first transmitted by the Sovereign of Lesser Yang (Donghua Dijun), the precious Golden Treasures and Secret Registers (cultivation texts) were brought into the human realm. By the time these teachings reached me through Patriarch Zhongli Quan (Han Zhongli), it was the third transmission, and the Great Dao began to flourish widely. Vowing to liberate all beings, I uphold the Supreme Venerable Sovereign’s mandate of 'perfecting the beginning and completing the end.' Later, I transmitted them to Patriarch Wang Chongyang, after which Daoism divided into northern and southern lineages. The lineage continues unbroken to this day, with nearly five thousand having attained the fruit of the Dao.

Now, Celestial Master Xu Xun (Xu Jingyang) will manifest an assembly of eight hundred perfected immortals, coinciding with the advent of a great cosmic calamity. Disasters plague the world, human hearts grow treacherous, and demons run rampant. Only the true transmission of the Great Dao can save humanity. By the decree of the Jade Emperor, I am to lead these eight hundred immortals. When the time is ripe, cultivators from the four seas and five sacred mountains will gather upon hearing the call, converging at Longsha (the legendary meeting place of immortals) for final awakening. Some perfected beings, already accomplished, remain hidden—either dwelling in grotto-heavens or blessed lands. When prophecies are fulfilled and plagues and calamities erupt, they will emerge to aid the world.

Since ancient times, few have attained the Dao while preserving the purity of their youthful essence. Most awaken to cultivation in middle age. At forty, I was still adrift in the mundane world, entangled in wine and desire—until my master’s guidance spurred me to courageous diligence (hinting that awakening, not background, is key to cultivation)."

After twenty-odd years of cultivation in the mundane world, I finally realized the true essence of the Great Dao. My initial practice began at Mount Lu, where I studied sword arts under Master Fire Dragon and comprehended the profound unity of internal and external cultivation. Later I wandered through Huaisi and Chu regions, living without fixed abode. A three-year retreat at Zhongnan Mountain ultimately revealed the celestial secrets of the Dao—that round meditation hut being where I practiced alongside my master Zhongli Quan.

For four centuries I cultivated while selling medicine to aid the world in Chang'an, before returning to build a hermitage at Tianzhu Peak on Mount Lu. When the celestial summons came to Penglai's immortal palace years later, my vow to deliver sentient beings remained unfulfilled. The timing of ascension matters not—whether during Tang, Song, or present times—for I seek only to guide destined souls without counting merits. This deliverance manifests simply: sometimes appearing as fellow cultivators, sometimes as ordinary folk, our encounters lasting months or years. Some awaken, others remain unready—all according to my original cultivation vow.

This Dao lineage flows unbroken: transmitted from Zhongli Quan (who received it from the Sovereign Donghua), through Wang Chongyang, Liu Chuxuan and seven other perfected ones. Manifesting through kalpas, this teaching has delivered nearly five thousand adepts in under a millennium. The "Dragon Sands Prophecy" foretells 83 billion deliverances twelve hundred years after Xu Xun's ascension—now this destined era arrives. Those encountering this opportunity cultivated across lifetimes, whether nobles, officials, merchants, scholars or artisans—all planted virtuous roots in past existences.

The crux of cultivation lies not in physical organs but in the mysterious unity of Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). Comprehend this "emptiness that is not empty"—holding spirit-energy constitutes "not empty," while non-attachment to form is "empty." Our Daoist methods illuminate this more directly than Buddhist explanations. Ultimately it's about awakening the original mind—at the supreme stage, even spirit-energy harmonization becomes unnecessary. Simply observe the fundamental heart-mind in perfect stillness, and sudden awakening dawns in profound tranquility.

This scripture presents the essential teachings of Master Chunyang (Lü Dongbin) on Daoist cultivation. The key to spiritual practice lies in "dual cultivation of nature and life" (xingming shuangxiu) — one must cultivate both the life-force (physical energy) and the innate nature (mental wisdom). Focusing exclusively on either aspect, no matter how advanced the practice, can only lead to becoming an earthly immortal (a lower level of attainment), failing to achieve true liberation from the cycle of rebirth.

Daoist cultivation does not seek realization through the physical body alone, but through refining Shen (spirit) and Qi (vital energy). The "spirit and energy" mentioned here do not refer to ordinary breath but to the primordial energy arising from the source of existence. Within the human body exists the "Yellow Path" (a technical term denoting a specific energy channel). When genuine Qi circulates, it must follow this pathway, ultimately returning to the Dantian (the ocean of primordial energy), thereby enabling rejuvenation and longevity.

The scripture observes that modern people have lost their original nature and can only return to the source through the method of "using the artificial to cultivate the genuine." The internal organs and bodily fluids are all products of the conditioned world; the true mystery lies in discovering life's primordial origin — that unified primordial energy of essence, vitality, and spirit (Yuanjing, Yuanqi, Yuanshen) bestowed by heaven and earth, generated when parents conceive new life.

Finally, it emphasizes that hearing the Dao is not difficult — the true challenge lies in actual practice. Those who both hear and sincerely cultivate will undoubtedly attain sagehood. The Great Dao itself is formless and without characteristics; the various cultivation methods transmitted by sages are merely expedient means to guide practitioners. The original source is symbolized by a "circle" (a common Daoist representation of the Dao), existing before heaven and earth, giving birth to all things. Cultivation means returning to this primordial origin.

This passage expounds the core principles of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation, using the theory of Five Phase generation to explain the transformation process of Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) within the human body.

The human body contains innate Zhenyi Qi (primordial energy), which originates from the Dao of Heaven and possesses the nature of "metal concealing water." When nurtured in the Kun position (lower Dantian), it manifests as "water containing metal" — a pure, formless essence known as Renshui (primordial Jing), also termed Qian metal, lead tiger, or true essence. When Yang energy reaches its peak, Yin energy emerges, crystallizing through bodily nodes to form tangible essence called Guishui (turbid postnatal essence). Practitioners must grasp the critical juncture when "water conceals metal" — discovering this point enables transcendence of ordinary existence.

The text describes the firing process in Neidan practice: When essence-energy descends from the Kunlun summit (upper Dantian) into the lower Dantian (North Sea), it resembles the sun sinking into water. Initially faint and indistinct, it gradually radiates warm luminosity until crimson light fills the Dantian, marking the perfect balance of Yang energy — "half metal, eight ounces water" (metal half-pound, water eight-ounces). Missing this moment results in turbid postnatal essence, hence the crucial instruction: "When lead encounters Gui, immediate gathering is required" — one must collect during the Renshui phase before it degrades.

The human body contains three Dantian (energy centers): the upper at the brow (heaven), middle at the heart (human), and lower below the navel (earth) — these constitute the foundation of xing (nature) and ming (life). The "elixir" forms through the coalescence of heaven-earth's Five Phase true fire, while the "field" represents the union of Yin-Yang true earth with fire. Human gestation follows this sequence: Primordial Qi first condenses in the middle Dantian, takes form in the lower Dantian, and finally, when form and Shen (spirit) mature, heaven-earth's true Yang Qi enters through the crown to complete the transformation.

The scripture particularly emphasizes the importance of the "center" — the Shen light of the upper Dantian and the form-energy of the lower Dantian must both return to the middle Dantian. This "middle path" constitutes the root of all creation and represents the essential method transmitted by realized adepts through the ages. Regrettably, many practitioners lacking proper guidance fail to grasp this truth despite frequent references to "center" in the texts.

Finally, the passage observes how ordinary understanding of the Dao remains fragmented. Though cultivation methods are numerous (3,600 approaches), the Golden Elixir path (Neidan) represents the twenty-four authentic ways to immortality. This content embodies Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin)'s core philosophy of "dual cultivation of nature and life," stressing the timely gathering of primordial Qi and the three Dantian practice to achieve the wondrous state of perfected form and spirit.

This scripture elucidates the highest state of Daoist cultivation—the practice of "true stillness and true forgetting" (zhen ding zhen wang), which surpasses even the Buddhist methods of śamatha-vipaśyanā (stopping and seeing). The so-called "true stillness" is not the deliberate meditative state of ordinary practitioners, nor is it the rigid absorption in emptiness. Genuine stillness naturally emerges from conditioned methods (youwei), manifesting a luminous and complete original nature with firm foundations. One can freely enter and exit this state while remaining unstained by external phenomena, maintaining perfect equanimity in both movement and stillness.

From this true stillness, one further realizes "true forgetting." This state of forgetting is not the forced suppression of thoughts practiced by beginners. When the mind becomes utterly clear, one perceives their original nature (benxing). This nature does not merely reside within the physical body but, more importantly, arises from the union of Jing (essence, the vital energy of life) and Qi (vital breath, the dynamic force of life). One must use Shen (spirit, consciousness) to command Qi, and Qi to refine Jing. When Jing, Qi, and Shen fully merge, they form a "cosmic framework" (kuangkuo), also called the "embryonic form" (baotai), "golden cauldron" (jinding), or "spirit chamber" (shenshi). Those who attain this state are called "embryonic immortals" (taixian), having reconnected with the root of life.

Continuing cultivation, one must stabilize the spirit and allow energy to gradually gather in the Dantian (the lower abdominal energy center). Upon reaching the state of a "perfected being" (zhenren, one who has attained the Dao), one enters a condition beyond entering or exiting, where both form and spirit are forgotten. The practitioner no longer senses the physical body, cannot distinguish between reality and illusion, and transcends concepts of time and space. At this stage, the entire universe condenses into a single grain of rice, and all things are contained within a single spark of spiritual awareness. This is the foundational practice for achieving divine immortality.

When the practice matures, the Yuanshen (primordial spirit, innate consciousness) naturally soars. Though still within the body, it feels transcendent. At this point, one must stabilize the mind and deepen cultivation. As skill advances, spiritual powers expand. After a thousand days (roughly three years) of practice, the Yuanshen bursts forth from the "Heavenly Gate" (Baihui point at the crown of the head). Looking back, the practitioner sees two identical forms—their physical body and their spirit body. Gradually mastering contraction and expansion, after three more years, one can pass through solid objects without obstruction and stand before the sun and moon without casting a shadow—the fruit of six years of cultivation.

Advancing further requires accumulating vast merit and receiving Daoist Fulu (talismans and registers, credentials of a Daoist priest). After nine years of accomplishment, the Celestial Emperor (Tian Di) bestows an edict, and immortals gather to celebrate. The cultivator then ascends in broad daylight, attaining the rank of "Celestial Immortal" (Tianxian, the highest Daoist immortal grade). This is the wondrous function of the Daoist Golden Elixir (Jindan) path—neither clinging to emptiness nor fixating on inert void, but maintaining a lively and spontaneous stillness within everyday life.

This passage elucidates the essential points of meditation practice in Daoist cultivation. Lü Dongbin (the Pure Yang Perfected Being) emphasizes that genuine spiritual work does not lie in superficial sitting meditation, but rather in finding stillness within motion, gathering scattered thoughts back to their original purity. When one attains a state where the mind becomes crystal clear and moves with effortless freedom—like a bright mirror reflecting emptiness, or flowing clouds and running water—one remains unperturbed by external phenomena such as birds singing or flowers falling. Only then can one truly realize the realm of ultimate emptiness and achieve the eight stages of meditative absorption.

He stresses that the most crucial aspect of cultivation is self-realization. Those with deep spiritual roots can enter meditative states upon hearing these teachings. Deliberately distinguishing between stages of practice would, in fact, contradict the true essence of the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path. Attaining stillness through personal cultivation is the authentic method by which Lord Lao (Taishang Laojun) guides practitioners. Ultimately, there is no inherent division between sudden and gradual enlightenment—what matters is individual capacity and diligent effort.

The scripture reveals an intriguing observation: those blessed with superior conditions (the "highest caliber people") often become entangled in wealth and sensory pleasures, losing their spiritual aspiration, while those in hardship (the "lowest caliber people"), having tasted life's bitterness, more readily awaken to the Dao. Just as accumulating earth to form a mountain is difficult while ground collapsing into a river happens easily, spiritual cultivation appears arduous yet paradoxically becomes attainable when embraced wholeheartedly.

True practice does not require withdrawing from society or escaping worldly affairs, but rather finding inner tranquility. External disturbances are ultimately projections of the unsettled mind—when inner purity is achieved, no external condition can penetrate this peace. At such a stage, one transcends material temptations and emotional attachments, remaining unmoved even by weapons, floods, fire, thunder, or cannon fire.

All people inherently possess this pure original mind, yet it becomes obscured by desires: craving honor breeds fear of disgrace, pursuing gain spawns worry over loss, clinging to affection creates dread of separation, and indulging in pleasure generates anxiety about adversity. By relinquishing these attachments, natural serenity arises. Life actually offers countless moments of innate freedom, but most miss them through deep delusion. Dao cultivators should seize the present, maintaining mindful awareness throughout the twelve double-hours of the day.

In cultivation practice, one must persistently seek the intrinsic true nature (original essence). Once realized, immediately grasp it firmly, allowing no external disturbances to shake your state. How can ordinary practitioners compare with those who have attained the Dao? One must be as humble as a monk holding an alms bowl, enter mountains seeking purity, and sever external attachments as decisively as cutting with a knife, ensuring no lingering consequences. When practicing cultivation, focus as intently as avoiding tigers or crossing ravines, always finding secure footing. Thus it is said: once the essential method is mastered, tranquility follows naturally.

The Dao is the origin of all creation, while methods (Fa) are the means to employ this creative power. The Dao establishes the principles, and the methods manifest the Dao. Without methods, the Dao cannot be revealed; without the Dao, methods lose their meaning. Dao and methods complement each other—essence and function are never in conflict. True attainment of the Dao isn't achieved merely through perfecting bodily essence (Jing) and blood, but through penetrating the principles of all things, leaving no truth uncomprehended. Genuine methods aren't limited to drawing talismans (Fulu) or chanting spells, but encompass serving heaven's will, honoring parents, respecting elders, harmonizing relationships, uniting clans, enriching nations, pacifying people, and attaining longevity—reaching a state where one remains unmoved by winds from all directions and unshaken by churning seas, single-mindedly practicing the true path to naturally resonate with heaven and earth.

Beginners must first learn two characters: "forbearance" and "forgetting." Cultivation requires: not rejoicing in praise nor angering at slander. One's capacity should embrace heaven and earth; one's virtue (De) should surpass rivers and oceans. Even if heaven and earth perish, my mind still contains them; even if rivers and oceans dry, my virtue grows deeper. Neither be overly shrewd nor coldly indifferent. Only thus can one achieve great attainment, liberating nine generations of ancestors from worldly bonds, realizing the wondrous state akin to Tathagata (the highest Buddhist fruition), and ascending to the true realm of the Purple Palace (Daoist celestial abode).

Modern practitioners must first establish resolve, examine conduct, correct faults, and incline toward goodness. Maintain this right mindfulness continuously, as if constantly under the patriarchs' supervision. This naturally leads to comprehending the great Dao, dispelling calamities, prospering households, and preserving oneself. Whether dwelling in mountains or markets, whether young or old, noble or common, wise or simple—those who achieve this are true cultivators. Those who verbally profess morality before patriarchs while secretly craving immortality, then revert to old habits, merely deceive themselves. Hearing this admonition, all practitioners should reflect carefully, advance courageously, and not betray these expectations.

The secret of alchemy isn't found in written texts—even when recorded, it never appears in any single passage. Sometimes the heart is called mercury (representing original spirit, Yuan Shen), sometimes the kidneys are called lead (representing original essence, Yuan Jing). Beyond these keys, where else to search? Seek "non-being" within "being," generate "being" from "non-being." All sages transcend through this point of true mechanism; all teachings derive from this source. Understanding this true essence, why laboriously pore over scriptures?

The Chunyang Sanshu scripture primarily elucidates the essential principles of Daoist cultivation and the behavioral standards for practitioners.

Regarding cultivation methods, the text clarifies that genuine practice does not lie in superficial "gathering and interaction" (referring to techniques of harmonizing Yin-Yang and the union of Jing and Qi), but in thoroughly comprehending its true meaning. The path of cultivation remains consistent from beginning to end, with the key being the awakening of the inner spiritual aperture. Once this principle is understood, the Golden Elixir (Jindan) will naturally form. Many fail to grasp this fundamental truth and instead pursue external techniques, abandoning what is near in search of what is far.

On the subject of cultivating virtue (De), the scripture mentions that during the Three Primordial Festivals (Shangyuan, Zhongyuan, and Xiayuan—important Daoist holy days), the celestial deities examine the good and evil deeds of the human realm. Sincere practitioners who uphold moral integrity are recorded in the registers of the immortals. After this evaluation, their accumulated merit safeguards both themselves and their families, warding off calamities and ensuring prosperity.

Concerning the physical and mental refinement of practitioners, the text emphasizes maintaining bodily purity and propriety like an unmarried maiden, abstaining from the four vices (likely referring to wine, lust, greed, and anger), and treasuring one's spirit (Shen). The mind should remain as vast and empty as the sky, embracing all things without attachment—this is the most crucial mental discipline for Daoist cultivation.

Finally, the scripture admonishes practitioners to cultivate sincerity and unwavering determination. They must neither retreat when facing demonic obstacles, nor grow arrogant upon achieving progress; neither doubt when hearing slander, nor slacken in receiving teachings. Those who waver between diligence and negligence will only delay their spiritual work. Even those living in comfort and abundance, if they indulge in pleasures without practicing cultivation, will ultimately miss the opportunity to attain the Dao.

This scripture explains that the key to cultivating immortality lies in determination and perseverance. Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) uses the Confucian saying "When Heaven is about to confer great responsibility" as a metaphor, pointing out that even worldly duties require tempering—how much more so the higher pursuit of Daoist cultivation? Throughout history, most failures occurred because people couldn't persevere to the end. As long as one recognizes the correct path and works diligently day by day, success is inevitable.

The foremost requirement in cultivation is establishing firm resolve—this determination isn't bestowed by Heaven nor can others assist with it; not even armies can take it away. Those who don't understand may be excused, but those who comprehend the principles yet fail to establish their own resolve are truly pitiable. Genuine determination arises from understanding the Dao, just as the Great Learning states: "Knowing where to rest brings stability." Once resolve becomes unshakable, the dual cultivation of nature (spiritual refinement) and life (physical refinement) can grasp its essential methods.

Cultivation must follow celestial timing, like the natural rhythms of Yin-Yang waxing and waning. One must observe the appropriate moments to advance or withdraw, mastering the crucial techniques for "gathering the medicinal ingredients" (a Neidan term referring to collecting the body's vital Qi). Those who understand can practice the dual cultivation, while the confused are like someone trying to catch the moon's reflection in water. The Great Dao is inherently impartial, yet it only transmits to prepared vessels—just as the Yellow River's waters won't flow into a broken clay jar, and divine dew only collects on the bronze immortal's dew-gathering plate (the copper pillar Emperor Wu of Han built to receive celestial nectar). Different containers yield different results.

The most critical aspect of cultivation is establishing absolute determination—a willingness to "die rather than retreat." Like digging a ninety-foot well: each day's digging takes you deeper. Or piling a ninety-foot mountain: each day's labor builds it higher. With persistent effort, how could success not come? Cultivation isn't actually difficult—don't obsess over past or future. Sometimes gain precedes loss; sometimes difficulty precedes ease. Success, failure, fortune and misfortune all shift according to causes and conditions. Understanding these principles makes even difficult tasks manageable.

Our Daoist lineage (referring to Patriarch Lü's tradition) only fears not encountering destined individuals. Meeting one signifies karmic connections from past lives. Now I transmit this celestial-bestowed method: hearing it can make fools wise, extend short lifespans, and transform elders into immortals. The three renunciations (likely referring to abandoning greed, anger, and delusion) I speak of must never slacken for even a moment. Those seeking immortality must practice accordingly—otherwise, empty talk of longevity won't stop white hairs from advancing. Even commoners toiling daily for food and clothing—who among them can truly let go? But if one truly could relinquish... (the original text seems abbreviated here)

Even those of noble rank like kings and dukes, possessing the wealth of the four seas, wielding power like generals and ministers, or deeply attached to wives and children—when facing the boundary of life and death, all these are cast aside as easily as removing shoes. There is a crucial secret here: if one opens their eyes to see the truth at this dividing line between life and death, complete liberation becomes possible.

Ordinary people are bound by countless attachments that accumulate deeper with time. Unless one is an iron-willed hero who can sever these bonds with a blade of resolve, how many can truly escape the grasp of impermanence (referring to the cycle of birth and death)? If worldly ties remain uncut in life, the chains of karma cannot be broken after death, and one sinks endlessly among the six paths (referring to the realms of gods, humans, asuras, animals, hungry ghosts, and hell). When will liberation ever come? Moved by compassion for sentient beings' suffering, I follow the teachings of Lord Lao (the highest deity in Daoism) to reveal the Dao's methods, guiding those with affinity to fulfill my long-held vow. Seekers who comprehend this with their hearts will naturally gain great benefit.

Ah, the mundane mind of ordinary people remains unextinguished, all due to the mischief of greed, anger, and delusion. What do they ultimately covet? While fearing death is human nature, nowadays people instead crave profit, lust, fame, and wine—so obsessed they no longer even fear death. How laughable! They discard what's essential to chase trivialities, abandon their true selves to pursue external things. The more they crave, the more they lose—when have they ever truly gained? I say: only by abiding in the great Dao and keeping to one's fundamental nature, transcending death to seek eternal life, can one attain lasting fulfillment. As greed, anger, and delusion gradually fade, the mysterious state naturally becomes clearer, allowing complete accomplishment of one's great purpose. Seen in this light, petty fame and trivial gains are like dung; those sensual pleasures, toxic wines—they are truly enemies. Why forsake gold and jade to chase dung, or abandon kinship to embrace enemies?

In this world, people receive life from their parents, maintain human relations with siblings, and build families by raising wives and children—yet all this is like a puppet show in a dream. Those who conform to worldly ways live and die in cycles, while those who practice counter-current cultivation transcend life and death. Sentient beings in this Sahā world (Buddhist term for our suffering-filled realm) arise according to their karma and resolve their own causes and effects. The sages, pitying beings' suffering, prompted Lord Lao to open expedient gates, lower paths of deliverance, and expound Dao-De (the Way and its Virtue) to liberate humanity. Yet beings drown in emotions, cling to attachments, often sinking into the suffering of rebirth—how pitiable! Those who can hear the great Dao all planted roots in past lives; thus in this life they won't drift with the current. Spirits will protect them, heaven and earth will shelter them, and true immortals will deliver them. Hence it's said: "A human body is hard to obtain, the supreme Dao hard to encounter." Those who hear the Dao should recognize this rare opportunity, never treating it lightly or missing their chance.

This Dharma gate I transmit has existed since heaven and earth's creation. Through Lord Lao's liberating work and the authentic transmission of ancestral masters across generations, it passes heart-to-heart and mouth-to-mouth without interruption.

Patriarch Lü (Lü Dongbin) here imparts selfless teachings, now revealing celestial secrets to eight hundred destined individuals to illuminate the profound tenets of Daoism. He declares his mission to establish the teachings for the Supreme Venerable Sovereign (Taishang Laojun, the highest Daoist deity), perpetuating the Dao's lineage through cosmic cycles, never failing sincere practitioners. For those who cultivate with courageous diligence, he will surely provide subtle guidance.

True cultivation hinges on this: when acquired vitality (Qi) becomes abundant and the heart-mind (Shen) purified, one's innate nature spontaneously manifests; when worldly affairs are fully relinquished, celestial truth naturally clarifies. Upon realization, permanent liberation is attained—ascending directly from mundanity to sagehood. When the time ripens, Patriarch Lü himself will select exceptional disciples to lead the transmission.

Ordinary people often lose their innate nature through external distractions, straying from awakening. Authentic practice requires the opposite approach: maintaining inner stillness when unprovoked by circumstances, yet responding fluidly when engaged, remaining unswayed. Practitioners of merit will receive Patriarch Lü's personal guidance—encounters may occur in mountain forests, riverboats, or bustling streets, never missing a destined soul.

The most challenging aspect is refining the mind: first, stilling wandering thoughts (initial meditative absorption). This unfolds in four phases: stabilizing thoughts, calming breath, harmonizing meridians, and consolidating life force (Jing). Only by severing distractions completely can one consolidate vitality and stabilize the spirit. This "extinguished mind, awakened spirit" state resembles an infant's pure heart-mind—fully revealing innate nature, utterly free of emotional impurities.

Many today discuss cultivation idly. Even if receiving oral instructions from immortals, without diligent practice, it's like drawing bread to stave hunger—utterly futile. Conversely, steadfast practice ensures eventual encounter with the great Dao (Dao), however shallow one's roots.

A true hero discerns timeliness: inaction when action is needed reveals cowardice; forcing outcomes prematurely invites folly. Only timely responsiveness embodies wisdom. The truly virtuous appear simple—like shrewd merchants concealing their craft—for humility alone can bear the Dao.

With sorrow, Patriarch Lü identifies two flawed approaches: First, those outwardly affiliated with the tradition yet inwardly insincere, gaining nothing even when hearing celestial teachings. Second, those recognizing life's impermanence and yearning to transcend rebirth, yet clinging to wealth and status, refusing to humble themselves in practice—like...

This passage presents Lü Dongbin (Daoist name: Chunyangzi) imparting wisdom to the world through candid and humorous admonitions. Using contrasting imagery, he reveals the true essence of Daoist cultivation:

Why do people chase fame and fortune like headless snakes scurrying in all directions, clinging to these fleeting things? Those obsessed with reputation fail to understand that all phenomena between heaven and earth perish—only empty fame appears eternal. But what use is posthumous renown? Striving for prestige, competing for profit, and flaunting toughness are all futile endeavors.

I (Lü Dongbin referring to himself) tirelessly admonish the world for the sake of all living beings and the transmission of Daoism. I once wrote a verse mentioning "often selling divine elixirs (shen dan) to aid mortals," yet ordinary people invariably treat such opportunities as trifles. Tens of thousands pretend to practice cultivation, but genuine practitioners are rarer than phoenix feathers. Throughout history, few have truly deserved to be called "great men"—let alone those charlatans who deceive with honeyed words.

Ancient practitioners fell into two categories: those who endured decades of arduous practice before meeting an enlightened master (referring to genuinely realized teachers), and those with profound karmic blessings who attained the Dao swiftly. This depends entirely on one's foundational roots. Having guided eight hundred disciples, I've witnessed each finding their unique path. Cultivation resembles wrestling with inner demons—Quanzhen Patriarch Qiu Chuji (Daoist name: Changchunzi) begged for food while practicing nightly for over forty years before ultimately achieving immortality.

Historical records of ascension to immortality represent merely one percent of the truth. People see only the glory of success, unaware of the hardships behind it. You (addressing aristocratic disciples listening to the teaching) were born into privilege due to merits accumulated in past lives, but never mistake this for spiritual attainment. Consider the Yellow Emperor: though burdened with state affairs, he still sought the Dao from Guangchengzi, eventually ascending to immortality with three thousand officials—far surpassing those pleasure-obsessed Zhou dynasty nobles.

Through contrasting worldly pursuits with the realm of cultivation, Patriarch Lü emphasizes that true practice demands persistent austerity and correct methods. The privileged should cherish their karmic advantages all the more. The reference to "ascension from Dinghu" alludes to the Yellow Emperor's legendary enlightenment, while "Qiu Changchun" exemplifies Quanzhen's ascetic tradition.

Prince Jin of Zhou (the crown prince of King Ling of Zhou) encountered an accomplished Daoist master in the royal palace and learned the arts of immortality. When his admonitions to his father went unheeded, he renounced the throne to live in seclusion and cultivate the Dao, ultimately attaining the fruit of immortality. Even imperial relatives like Liu An, Prince of Huainan, achieved the Dao and ascended to immortality—legend says even the chickens and dogs in his household followed him to heaven. While there are indeed many wealthy and noble individuals who attained the Dao, far more were impoverished ascetics who realized the ultimate fruit.

There's no need to debate demonic obstacles or obsess over innate spiritual roots and karmic affinities—the only real concern is failing to encounter genuine teachings. Once you encounter authentic methods, success is assured. Not cultivating after encountering them is foolishness; cultivating without perseverance is squandering heaven's grace. How could there be failure when true methods are found? The only challenge lies in the rarity of encountering authentic teachings. Today, those studying immortal arts range from princes and nobles to commoners, totaling over a hundred thousand across the land. Yet those I've witnessed encountering the supreme Daoist teachings can be counted on one hand—truly a rare occurrence.

During the flourishing era of the Great Dao, I and various immortals traveled daily to deliver people from calamity. All those I've guided—from ancestral masters like Lord Lao (the deified Laozi) to the perfected beings of the Quanzhen tradition—will assist me in gathering the predestined to jointly accomplish this sacred work. Celestial deities also protect cultivators, awaiting only the decree from Lü Dongbin (the immortal Lü Yan) to finalize the register of immortals. Earlier signs have already indicated that I shall widely open the gates of deliverance. Celestial Master Xu Xun (one of Daoism's Four Great Celestial Masters) will oversee this matter, for the time is urgent.

The celestial decrees I've transmitted shine upon all like sunlight illuminating the world. But if someone deliberately hides in a dark room covering themselves with a basin, that is self-imposed obscuration—not the sunlight's fault. All should understand this principle.

In the primordial state of chaos, before the division of Yin and Yang, the original Qi (vital energy) merged with heavenly principle—this is Wuji (the Limitless). After Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate) differentiated, heaven and earth formed: the original Qi took shape as physical form while heavenly principle became innate nature, sharing the same origin but following different paths. Among the myriad beings thus produced, regardless of size, all possess nature and life. The Book of Changes states "each correctly maintains its nature and life"—this word "correct" contains boundless profundity. The eagle soaring, fish leaping, mountains towering and rivers flowing—these natural phenomena all allow silent comprehension of truth.

The state of "central harmony" exists neither within nor without, having no concrete form. It is the abode of pure emptiness and mystical wonder, the gateway to the three passes (upper, middle and lower Dantian), the pivot of all meridians, the dwelling place of original spirit (Shen), and the pathway of true Qi's circulation—the very threshold of life and death. To begin cultivation from this point is to grasp the essential method of dual cultivation of nature and life.

All cultivation practices ultimately return to one great principle, requiring only appropriate adjustments based on individual deficiencies of spirit and Qi. Young practitioners may begin by guarding the center (focusing on the Dantian), while elders should first practice root-returning methods (techniques to replenish original Qi) to restore their spirit and Qi—this yields quicker results. Among the three treasures of Jing (essence), Qi and Shen, the key lies with Shen. When Shen remains tranquil, Qi flows freely, and Jing naturally avoids turbid sedimentation. This is the essential cultivation secret of perfected beings.

The method of cultivating the physical form fundamentally lies in training the mind. When distracting thoughts can be stilled, that marks the attainment of true skill. This is like a crossbow with immense power—its true mechanism resides in a tiny trigger. The genuine secret lies in skillful technique rather than brute force, which captures the essence of internal cultivation. In daily conduct, one should uphold three key words: "forbearance" to curb impatience, "silence" to restrain excessive speech, and "forgetfulness" to eliminate scattered thoughts. These form the foundational method for accumulating Jing (essence) and nurturing Shen (spirit), as well as the shortcut to dispelling illness and transcending the mundane. If these three words are engraved in the heart at all times, what practice could fail to yield results? What worldly affairs could disturb the mind? What suffering would be worth fretting over? True stillness must manifest in action—one need not isolate themselves in seated meditation to cultivate. Like a ship navigating stormy waves, the key lies in how the helmsman steers—this is the secret to maintaining stillness amid chaos.

For spiritual practitioners seeking the root of their nature and life, the greatest fear is never encountering a true master. If one is fortunate enough to meet an authentic teacher and hear the supreme principles of the Dao, they are already beyond the ordinary. As long as they diligently cultivate body and mind with courageous perseverance, it is as certain as planted seedlings growing and bearing fruit. All else is illusory, neither diminishing nor adding to true attainment. Even if heaven and earth were overturned and mountains crumbled, the practitioner's inner spiritual foundation would remain unshaken—such a state alone qualifies as the genuine transmission of the Dao.

Cultivation demands unwavering resolve—letting go of worldly attachments and seizing the root of nature and life. Once entering the Mysterious Gate (the path of cultivation), one must advance daily. This is no ordinary worldly affair: practice rooted in purity must begin with the heart-mind. When clarity and stillness are attained, within the profound and indistinct, one naturally perceives the stirring of true breath (primordial Qi). This is the highest form of practice, after which progress becomes swift and wondrous, unimpeded by demonic obstructions. I teach you this: focus the spirit and regulate the breath, letting Qi follow the guidance of the mind, uniting Shen and Qi to return to true emptiness. Within this formless void, the subtle mechanism of Qi arises spontaneously, neither present nor absent. When spirit and breath merge indistinguishably, that is the moment primordial Qi descends to meet acquired Jing. Nourished by the primordial, acquired essence grows as naturally as fish in water. There is no secret to the firing process—the key lies in seizing the right moment to gather Qi. This method has been transmitted through the lineage of the Supreme Dao Ancestor (Taishang Daozu), and all realized beings must cultivate accordingly. Fear not the passage of time, nor wait for conditions to ripen—great attainment will come naturally. Practitioners need only focus on present efforts, without dwelling on the duration of past practice.

Do not rush to anticipate the pace of future cultivation—true practice lies in comprehending the present moment. Being out of step with worldly conventions is like being the only sober person among drunkards; inevitably, one faces scorn and ridicule. But let the drunk remain drunk, while the sober stay awake. When others awaken, they will finally understand my state. Since ancient times, those who cultivate immortality or follow the Buddhist path have mostly been seen as outsiders by society. This worldly prejudice stands in direct opposition to Daoist cultivation—a struggle where the divine heavens observe the final outcome.

The key to cultivation lies in the Mysterious Pass (Xuanguan), the vital energy hub of the body, from which all practice unfolds, root to branch. The natural regulation of breath, the generation and containment of Qi in daily practice—these are all spontaneous manifestations. Laozi (the Supreme Venerable Sovereign) originally spoke only of "clarity and stillness," without complex terms like lead and mercury, dragon and tiger, husband and wife, or metal and wood. Later, Celestial Master Xu Xun founded the Jingming (Pure Brightness) tradition, integrating loyalty and filial piety into cultivation. Our Quanzhen (Complete Perfection) lineage traces back through Laozi → the Sovereign Lord of Eastern Florescence (Donghua Dijun) → Zhongli Quan, adapting to the times as a distinct branch of Pure Brightness. This is not a matter of doctrine being shallow or profound, nor are immortals ranked in hierarchy—it is simply skillful means suited to the era and people.

A person’s innate primordial Qi (Yuanqi) originates from the true fire of their parents’ union, stored in the left kidney. The crux of cultivation is this: guide the breath with focused intent until, over time, the two merge. Only when acquired vitality (Jing-Qi) stabilizes does the innate primordial Qi emerge. This is like refining Jia-Wood (甲木) to produce true Yang (the dragon), forming Ji-Earth (己土, the central palace’s energy). When acquired vitality is abundant, the metal energy (innate essence) within kidney-water stirs. At this point, guided by Ji-Earth, water spontaneously generates innate true Qi. This true Qi (lead) ascends to the Yellow Court (middle Dantian), where distinctions of primary and secondary, floating and sinking, form the foundation of alchemy. With proper method, golden fluid is refined, yielding a millet-sized elixir pearl. Then, by stirring Kun-fire (lower Dantian energy) and rousing Xun-wind (breath), through the ninefold cyclical refinement, Qi transforms into Shen (spirit), and Shen returns to emptiness. The key lies solely in using spirit to command Qi—essence (Jing) naturally transmutes, and the profound reveals itself. Some awaken wisdom first, others manifest life-force cultivation first, yet both ultimately reach the highest realm.

By day, the heart-mind observes the external world through the eyes; by night, it withdraws and stores in the liver. But the two kidneys are its root source. When practitioners sit in stillness... (original text incomplete; no further elaboration added).

In the state of empty stillness and profound nothingness, one should gather and concentrate the light of Shen (spiritual consciousness) here, where the mind will naturally stabilize without deliberate mental control. The inner kidneys (referring to the physical kidneys) are where Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) converge, serving as the foundation for all subsequent cultivation practices. The region of the outer kidneys (referring to the reproductive system) is where the true water (symbolizing the innate kidney essence) resides above the "bitter sea" (a Daoist metaphor for the afflictions of desire).

When the fire of Shen (the heart's fire or the fire of intention) descends to this area, it directly reaches this crucial point. Metal (representing lung Qi within the Five Phases) is actually the vaporized state of water (kidney essence). When it encounters Yang energy, it ascends, forming the state of the Dui trigram (one of the Eight Trigrams, symbolizing the marsh). The Golden Elixir (Jindan, a Neidan term for the refined essence of life) initially sprouts like medicinal seedlings, and through cultivation, it generates Geng Metal (the metallic energy of the West, symbolizing solidity). This process resembles the true tiger (a metaphor for the Yang energy within the kidneys) giving birth to radiant light, eventually forming a full, moon-like perfection—only then is the complete generation of Geng Metal truly accomplished.