《瓊琯白真人集》Vol. 2

This scripture is the Ode to the Great Golden Liquor Elixir written by Bai Yuchan, patriarch of the Southern Lineage in Song Dynasty Daoism, expounding the core principles of Neidan (internal alchemy) practice. In modern terms:

The human body resembles a withering tree, the heart-mind like cold ashes. To ascend to the jade palaces of heaven, one must cultivate the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir. Here, "Qian's steed and Kun's ox" symbolize the Yin-Yang energies; "Lord Ding" refers to the heart's Shen (spirit), while "the maiden" represents kidney Jing (essence), to be harmonized within the Dantian (spirit chamber) as Kan (water) and Li (fire). Like dawn-dwelling immortals resting in the Crimson Palace (heart), making the liver's Qi (Azure Dragon) rise from fire and the lung's Qi (White Tiger) descend from water.

Heaven and earth serve as the alchemical furnace, while the body's three passes (upper, middle, and lower Dantian) are pivots of creation. The essences of sun and moon contain Yin-Yang quintessence: lead (kidney Jing) conceals true earth, mercury (heart Shen) yields true gold. In trigram symbolism: the turtle represents the midnight hour (kidneys), the snake noon (heart), the rabbit mao (liver), the rooster you (lungs). The Four Symbols and Five Phases all depend on central Wu-earth, while the Three Primordials and Eight Trigrams rely on Ren-water (primordial Qi).

Practice must seize the timing of Yin-Yang waxing and waning, like day-night alternation. When the Three Treasures (Jing, Qi, Shen) converge in the Dantian, and Yin-Yang energies circulate along the Conception and Governing vessels, ordinary mercury (postnatal vital essence) transforms into black jade (primordial essence), while cinnabar (heart-mind) refines into ruby (primordial spirit). These alchemical visions resemble celestial flowers and miraculous fruits, white snow and clear breeze.

True cultivation requires understanding fire regulation, comprehending the timing of life-death and waxing-waning cycles. Through the rising-sinking of breath, purity and turbidity separate; within movement-stillness, profound mysteries are grasped. Maintaining the state of empty stillness and unified concentration remains incomprehensible to worldly people. Those stubbornly sitting in meditation without understanding principles will achieve the opposite of intended results. Just as constellations follow their courses, Neidan practice must conform to the Dao of Yin-Yang harmony.

The Great Dao cannot be fully expressed in words; internal alchemy is no mere technique. The true Mysterious Pearl (Golden Elixir) contains both Yin and Yang, like an infant possessing both masculine and feminine qualities. In practice, the advancing-retreating of fire phases and balancing of medicinal ingredients must be precise, ensuring smooth Qi-blood circulation through the Conception and Governing vessels to achieve the "counterflow of four seasons" (rejuvenation). Ultimately, one attains harmonious Qi-blood, with spirit resonating with celestial movements of heaven, earth and stars.

This scripture reveals the profound mysteries of Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation, employing symbolic language to describe the transformations of Yin-Yang and the movements of the Five Phases during the alchemical process.

The opening passage advises practitioners to transcend the constraints of physical form and mental concepts, cultivating De (Virtue) and wisdom in harmonious unity like brothers. By observing celestial phenomena (the moon's phases of new moon, first quarter, full moon, and last quarter) and seasonal transitions (the solstices), one can foresee natural calamities. Those who attain the Dao can perceive the universe's mysteries, holding mountains and rivers within their palms.

The "Dragon-Tiger Ode" section employs extensive alchemical terminology to expound Neidan principles: "dragon and tiger" symbolize the body's Yin and Yang Qi (vital energy), while "nine-cycle golden liquid" refers to the repeatedly refined internal elixir. The text mentions the Four Symbols (Green Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, etc.), the Yellow Court (Dantian region), and Kan-Li (water-fire trigrams), describing the circulation patterns of Yin-Yang energies within the body. Terms like "Metal Lord" (lead) and "Charming Maiden" (mercury) denote essential alchemical elements.

The cultivation process follows cosmic rhythms: Yang energy emerges at winter solstice while Yin arises at summer solstice, mirroring seasonal alternations in balancing Yin-Yang. The medicinal substances (cinnabar and mercury) interact within the cauldron (upper and lower vessels) during specific astrological hours (when constellations like Xu-Wei-Yi are aligned). The perfect balance is symbolized by the "sixteen-ounce pound" (ancient measurement system), representing complete Yin-Yang harmony.

The concluding section explains the generative and controlling cycles of the Five Phases: numbers like Water-1, Fire-2, and Earth-5 represent their interrelationships. Through the perfect union of water and fire (Kan-Li interaction), Jing (essence) and Qi undergo transformation, causing lead and mercury to merge into the Golden Elixir. The entire passage brims with Daoist symbolic language, actually describing the cultivation process of Jing, Qi, and Shen (spirit) within the human body.

This scripture describes the principles of Five Phases mutual generation and Yin-Yang harmonization in Daoist Neidan (internal alchemy) practice, along with key elements of the elixir refinement process. The text employs extensive astronomical, Five Phases, and alchemical terminology as metaphors for cultivation.

The essence of Earth circulates through the Wu-Ji positions (representing the Earth phase) according to celestial timing, just as the twelve Northern Dipper handles correspond to twelve musical pitches. Flowing mercury symbolizes the soul of the sun, while gold represents the moon's spirit. When Yin and Yang are not yet fully separated, the Yang essence becomes father to the Vermilion Bird (southern divine avian). The Kun hexagram (pure Yin) first transforms into Zhen (one Yang line), then into Dui (two Yang lines). The sun and moon conjoin to form the first quarter moon, reaching full Yang manifestation at the fifteenth day (three fives) when the moon appears complete in the eastern Jia position.

The lunar toad observes these hexagram transformations as the rabbit's essence (moonlight) begins to shine. The Qian hexagram (pure Yang) first changes into Xun (one Yin line), then Gen (two Yin lines). The moon appears in the western Xin position, reaching fullness in the southern Bing position. After five or six days it loses radiance in the northeastern Yi position, while Earth harmonizes with Water and Metal to form liquid essence, resonating like cicada songs and thunder. The central Five Phases rotate, externally corresponding to the Eight Trigrams, as the Yin tally and Yang fire interact. After sixty days (six ten-day cycles), an egg-like elixir embryo forms while the Five Peaks (five organs) stabilize.

The head corresponds to Qian's Metal (Yang), the feet tread Kun's Water (Yin), their natural blending generating harmonious Qi. In the spiritual chamber (Dantian), black lead (kidney Jing) refines true Earth (spleen intention), while white gold (lung Qi) in the spring cavern (lower Dantian) merges with watery mercury (essence-Qi mixture) during the Hai hour (9-11 PM) when Yang Qi stirs like the sun's southward journey. When five planets align, the golden sand (elixir) follows the rhythms of breath and celestial motion.

The sixteen stars of Purple Tenuity and the Three Platforms regulate astral movements. Solar fire (heart fire) gathers Five Phase essences to refine the central palace Earth (spleen-stomach), while lunar metal (lung metal) follows musical laws to enter northern kidney Water. Water and fire serve as parents to the elixir, which becomes fire's descendant. Water, Earth and Metal wax and wane sequentially over sixty days, while golden mercury (essence-Qi) achieves dynamic balance in the cauldron (Dantian). The Earth mother (spleen intention) harmonizes the four directions as celestial Qian's movement aligns with the three luminaries (sun, moon, stars).

When golden-fire essence illuminates the entire elixir chamber, the river water (kidney Jing) dries as heart fire extinguishes. Dragon (liver Qi) and tiger (lung Qi) energies intertwine, Metal and Wood's natures unite to gently nurture the pearl. Water (kidney Jing) generates mysterious blossoms, Earth (spleen intention) produces Metal (lung Qi), forming a flowing elixir pearl within the chamber where yellow (spleen) and black (kidney) merge. Earth-Water essence emits purple radiance as golden liquid ripples, though the divine medicine remains incomplete.

When Metal generates Water, lead (kidney Jing) refines into white gold (original Qi), forming the divine chamber (Dantian). The golden Water (essence-Qi) within condenses and yellows under fire regulation. As Water and fire coalesce in the middle Dantian, the golden fluid cannot scatter. Fire-forged golden blossoms produce ethereal mist as white gold (original Qi) takes form while fiery Qi returns to emptiness. Refining mercury (essence) in the northern divine position achieves pure Water-fire embrace, mirroring the sun and moon's mutual embrace.

The text is divided into two parts: the first section discusses alchemical terminology, while the latter describes the lifestyle of the Lazy Elder.

The first part explains Daoist alchemical practices: When black lead (an alchemical material) merges with the golden essence and mysterious water (a technical term referring to a specific state of water), encapsulating the mercury (quicksilver) in the Kan position (a trigram direction), it manifests yellow sprouts (an early sign of elixir formation) and later stages like white stamens and red buds. Metal gives birth to water, producing pure Qi (vital energy) within the Hua Pool (another name for the Dantian). Inside the alchemical furnace, cauldron, and stove (tools for refining the elixir), there is a divine chamber (the core space of the process). By adjusting the proportions of metal-earth and mercury, miraculous transformations occur naturally.

The second part recounts the story of the Lazy Elder, Su Senlao: In his youth, this recluse from Mount Mei was not lazy at all—he diligently studied the classics, delving deep into Confucian teachings, and his literary skill surpassed that of Han Yu and Liu Zongyuan. People expected him to achieve great deeds like Yu the Great or Gao Yao. However, he later lost interest in officialdom. During the Jiatai era, while serving as a magistrate in Junyang, he requested retirement, and later, as the Marquis of Hengyang, he sought seclusion in Mount Wuyi. His heart was indifferent to worldly affairs, and he avoided powerful connections, living like a hidden dragon withholding rain.

Now, having reached the age of following his heart’s desires, he built a simple hut in front of his ancestral home in Jinhua, with windows on three sides and wooden plank walls. His dwelling is sparsely furnished: a single flower, a green-tongued qin (zither), and a sword from Wenyang. He lives freely—sleeping when he wishes, like Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly; drinking with abandon, as if draining the sea of wine with a rainbow’s sip; composing poetry with verses cascading like pearls and jade; playing chess with pieces clinking like shattered jade; dancing with movements as light as shifting mountains; strolling with a bamboo staff, whistling long beneath the pines; and when inspiration strikes, playing his iron flute and singing at full voice.

Bai Yuchan (one of the Five Patriarchs of the Southern Daoist School, Daoist name Qiongguan) describes in this passage a transcendent attitude toward life. What he calls "laziness" is in fact a spiritual state of liberation from worldly entanglements.

When observing the natural growth of mountain streams and vegetation, he would spontaneously compose poetry; facing ownerless flower spirits and the wandering moon's essence, he would drink alone under moonlight. This "laziness" isn't indolence, but rather detachment from mundane affairs. Playing chess, drinking wine, singing loudly, sleeping drunk—he completely follows his innate nature, allowing all things to exist as they are, without leaving any mental attachments.

He emulates Yan Hui's state of "sitting in forgetfulness" (a Daoist cultivation method referring to forgetting physical form and intellectual knowledge) and Zhuangzi's "losing one's counterpart" (transcending the distinction between self and other), gradually entering what Laozi called the "subtle and imperceptible" state (from the Dao De Jing, describing the nature of the Dao), becoming one with all things. He even reaches the point of forgetting to eat and sleep—this is true "laziness."

In his pure cultivation chamber, rainwater naturally fills the inkstone, bamboo groves send breezes to sweep his bed, clouds form curtains obscuring mountains, and grassy meadows become stone cushions. By day, blue smoke rises from the Boshan incense burner (commonly used in Daoist practice), while by night silver lamps illuminate "red millet" (referring to lamp wicks). Drinking while admiring scenery, composing poetry, cutting bamboo to welcome wind, moving flowers to play with moonlight—these seemingly "lazy" actions contain profound affection for nature.

When a visitor from Wuyi Mountain saw him in such a "lazy" state, they asked: When spring comes with willows greening and peaches blooming, are you too lazy to travel? On summer nights with clear breeze and bright moon, too lazy to enjoy the cool? During autumn's crisp clarity, too lazy to climb high? When winter snow boils tea, too lazy to seek plum blossoms? To each he replied "Yes."

Finally, the essential point is revealed: worldly fame and gain are like thorns burning the heart—how could one easily attain such transcendence? Dust accumulating on his zither and dried inkstones manifest his "laziness," while closing doors to welcome wind and keeping moonlight illuminating his bed represent the ultimate expression of this "laziness." Fortunately, with a chamber sheltering from wind and rain, modest fields sustaining livelihood, and descendants to inherit his legacy, he can maintain this state of detachment.

This passage describes the encounter between Daoist master Bai Yuchan (a renowned Southern Song dynasty Daoist) and an elderly Chan Buddhist monk, along with his vivid depiction of spiritual cultivation realms.

The elderly monk typically avoided worldly interactions and seldom spoke with others, yet upon meeting Bai Yuchan from Mount Wuyi, he was overjoyed and spent entire days discussing the Dao with him. Delighted, Bai Yuchan composed this "Rhapsody of the Purple Origin" (Ziyuan Fu) on the fifteenth day of early summer in the Bingzi year of the Jiading era (1216), with writing brushes (毛颖) and inkstones (陶泓) as his companions.

The rhapsody paints the realm of spiritual cultivation with dazzling imagery: the human body in the mundane world is like a parrot trapped in a cage, while transcendence through Daoist practice resembles a swan soaring on outstretched wings. It references numerous Daoist allusions: splitting open primordial chaos at the Pool of Xian (咸池, the mythical place where the sun bathes), summoning the wind deity Feilian to whip the thunder god; paying homage to the Celestial Worthy of Original Commencement (元始天尊) at Mount Jade Capital (玉京山), and riding the god of wandering through the Great Void (太虚). It also describes keeping company with ancient sages like Fuxi and the Yellow Emperor, making the Supreme Ultimate (太极) one's home, with Mount Kunlun and Mount Heng as courtyards, while following Laozi (广聃) to cultivate ascension techniques.

Later passages depict various celestial scenes: drinking and singing at the Jade Pool (瑶池), listening to the Queen Mother of the West's divine music; preparing delicacies with magical herbs and gathering radiant clouds and auroras; practicing internal alchemy (内丹) with dragon-lead and tiger-mercury (龙铅虎汞), circulating embryonic breathing techniques; riding divine dragons and phoenixes to inquire into heavenly secrets. Finally, it speaks of tracing the footsteps of ancient immortals like Jian Keng (彭祖, Pengzu) and Wo Quan, crossing celestial bridges to forge a path of cultivation.

The entire text brims with Daoist cultivation terminology and mythological imagery, showcasing the transcendent freedom of practitioners who roam the cosmos as one with heaven and earth, as well as their pursuit of immortality through internal alchemy (Neidan).

This passage depicts a paradisiacal realm and the transcendent state of Daoist practitioners.

The opening employs symbolic imagery to portray the realm of cultivation: planting lotuses symbolizes pure practice, while references to Bodhidharma and Huineng, patriarchs of Chan Buddhism, use "deep snow" as a metaphor for the profound stillness of meditation. The thunderclap represents the moment of sudden enlightenment, and the Chan teaching methods of "shouting and striking" cleanse the mind. The Valley Spirit (a Daoist concept of the primordial Shen) is silent and formless yet connected to the primordial Qi; though the river of meditation has its bounds, the ways to cross it vary.

A series of Daoist symbols follow: viewing all things as a single cicada, situating the Five Thearchs in the spiritual terrace (the head), comprehending the cycles of past, present, and future with half a verse, and housing the hundred spirits in the Crimson Palace (the heart). Holding a treasure the size of a millet grain as carefully as a hen guards her eggs, laughing at the cicada while reminiscing about the Divine Farmer. The profound mystery of the Dao must be guarded in the subtle details; the refined essence of the Yi (Change) must be nurtured with a mind of simplicity.

The latter section paints a celestial scene: the three-legged golden crow (sun) soars across the heavens, while nine phoenixes and eight luan birds sing in harmony. The celestial bells startle the flowers of Langyuan (a mythical paradise) into bloom. Standing atop a vermilion tower, one surveys the myriad phenomena, taking in the vastness of the Great Void—this is the immortal realm revered by the Shenxiao tradition.

The Rhapsody on the Tower of Longing for Immortality vividly describes this celestial tower: towering into the clouds, connecting to the Nine Heavens above and overlooking the void below, it is the abode of assembled immortals. By day, they drink wine and chant poetry, roaming with the Creator and keeping the azure sky as company. At dawn, sunlight illuminates pearl-adorned curtains, while golden railings gleam brilliantly, and emerald mists drift among the mountains. Evening breezes stir the immortal groves, and when the moon rises, the pines and bamboos sway as if playing celestial music.

The life of the tower’s immortal residents (those who have attained the Dao): jade furnaces and golden tripods swirl with incense smoke; inspired, they drink, and in their cups, they compose poetry, laughing heartily upon finishing—startling even ghosts and deities. Whether on misty, rainy nights or under starry skies, they gaze down upon mortal cities as if viewing them from the heavens. In the deep of night, clear dew descends, clouds disperse, and the immortals summon azure-robed attendants, embodying the carefree and transcendent aura of the celestial realm.

This passage depicts the transcendent realm of a Daoist practitioner who roams freely between heaven and earth. The text describes how the adept commands the Six Officials (deities governing the six viscera in Daoist physiology) to issue decrees to the Five Senses, banishing the Three Corpses (malevolent spirits believed to inhabit the human body) to the Great Abyss and executing the Six Thieves (desires arising from form, sound, scent, taste, touch, and thought) at Mount Kunlun. He summons wind and rain at will, inviting Xihe (the sun goddess) and Chang'e (the moon goddess) to his courtyard, while communing with the creative forces of heaven and earth in the primordial state of Taichu.

The practitioner refines the essence of heaven and earth, distilling the quintessence of the Dao (the Way). Riding the qi (vital energy) of the eight directions and harnessing the winds of the nine poles, he uses jade phoenixes as reins and adorns himself with precious gems. To the north stands his tower upon the high ridge where the immortal Ren Dun attained the Dao; southward he gazes upon the purple qi (auspicious energy) marking where the Nine Immortals of the He clan achieved transcendence. To the east lie abandoned deer trails and the Pomegranate Cave, while westward the verdant Yishan Mountain cradles silent altars. The author reflects: where there's a will, the Dao shall be attained.

The "Crane Forest Rhapsody" section portrays the cultivator making his home in emptiness, nurturing primordial chaos as he wanders before the Heavenly Emperor. Traversing the eight extremes, he rides divine winds to gather celestial blossoms. His chariot drawn by nine dragons carries the bright moon, while eight legendary steeds pull him through purple mists toward ascension. Above, he draws water from the Milky Way; below, he tugs at the gates of the underworld. Astride a white crane, he soars past ancient Kashmir; leading a green ox, he wanders through Khotan. Playing jade flutes, he sings of Taiji (the Supreme Ultimate); strumming cloud-harmony zithers, he dances with embryonic immortals.

He climbs Mount Kunlun seeking the Yellow Emperor's golden coffin and perches on Jiuyi Mountain searching for Emperor Shun's jade ornaments. Amidst the ethereal Unicorn Isle and Phoenix Nest, he watches Penglai's fairy isles emerge from shallow waters as oceans turn to mulberry fields. Brewing immortal wine from five varieties of lingzhi mushrooms, its fragrance pierces the heavens; gathering nectar from the eight cinnamon trees of the moon, he pours it into the Flowery Pool. The Perfected Huangyuan rides colored clouds with feathered bells, while the Primordial Lady of Purple Emptiness plucks luminous nine-pearl zither strings. To his left rises Fusang (sunrise tree), to his right Guanghan (moon palace) – passing freely between celestial valleys and cosmic abysses. The author's heart soars like an autumn roc, while his body transcends like a winter cicada. Finally at Mount Luofeng (Daoist netherworld), he inscribes celestial documents, binding his spirit to the resplendent heavens while perusing immortal scriptures.

This passage depicts the Daoist immortal Bai Zhenren's carefree existence in the celestial realm and his cultivation achievements.

Standing atop a high platform, he holds celestial talismans (Fulu) used in Daoist rituals, contemplating the clear and distant realm of Great Void. Leaning against a jade tower, he dances lightly under moonlight while singing the "Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Robe" melody. Though no bluebird (the Queen Mother of the West's messenger) appears amid the cloud-laddered moonlit landscape, the Purple Jade Immortal Palace remains unchanged. He summons deities like E Lai (ancient strongman) and Xuanming (Water God), dispatches the Thunder Department's goddess A Xiang, and issues commands to the immortal maiden Wu Yan. After becoming intoxicated from nine kinds of celestial wines, he sits in meditation to comprehend the beginning of the Yankang Kalpa (a cosmic cycle in Daoism). Stroking the Three Treasures (Jing, Qi, Shen), he lets out a long whistle to inquire about the mysteries of the Dragon Han Era (Daoist cosmological beginning).

He refines the sun and moon, simmers the stars of the Northern Dipper, his voice like thunder shaking the heavens. Patting the back of Immortal Fuqiu and leaning on the shoulder of Master Hongya (Yellow Emperor's music official), he penetrates the dreamscapes of Hualin Garden (celestial realm) and exhaustively studies the Zen principles of Deer Park (Buddhist sacred site, here representing ultimate truth). His mind expands like the transformations in the Book of Changes, attaining the state of Pure Yang where self and objects are both forgotten.

Claiming descent from the ancient Datingshi clan with ancestry tracing to Emperor Zhuanxu, he emerges from Huayang Grotto-Heaven (one of Daoism's Ten Great Grottoes) whenever enlightened, sailing freely on the Sea Jade immortal boat. Tracing his celestial origins to Pengzu's era, he befriends immortal Wo Quan. By the Qu River, he comforts the bulrushes; at Wanling, he cultivates immortal herbs. Stealing peaches of immortality from heaven, he tends lotus fields on Mount Hua. Using the vast sea as an inkstone, he commands Pangu to grind ink; employing the firmament as a stele, he summons the gods of time Shu and Hu to carve characters.

Realizing emptiness repeatedly like peony blossoms, comprehending the singular truth like a cuckoo's cry. The decline of the Great Dao makes Fuxi weep; the collapse of Mount Buzhou grieves Nüwa. He mourns Yu the Great's worn feet from taming floods, yet laughs at Shennong's disheveled hair from tasting herbs. Feasting at Jasper Terrace, he consults the Queen Mother of the West; inscribing the Golden Fluid elixir formula, he seeks guidance from the immortal elder of Langyuan. Like Yan Ziling approaching the imperial throne or Zhang Qian visiting the Weaving Maid star, he smiles at the mayfly's fleeting life—who cares about the cicada's drone?

Finally he sighs: Enough! Playing with the Dao of Primordial Chaos in an ant kingdom, roaming the Mushroom Fields with the Creator. Wild ducks and cranes each follow their natural lifespans; why distinguish beauty in peach blossom spirits? Grieving the mortal world, he conceals Mount Sumeru in a mustard seed. Pointing to the Milky Way, he declares his return, releasing the childlike heart into the vast cosmos. Who is this? None other than a carefree immortal from the Great Clarity Realm (Taijing, highest Daoist heaven), an unranked official of the Purple Mansion Palace—that Crane Forest Master of the Southern Wilds.

The preface mentions the origins of the Supreme Thunder Magic Scripture of the Nine Heavens. The Thunder Fire Master (founder of thunder rites) states: "As early as the Dragon Han Kalpa's dawn, when Floating Li opened heaven, beyond the formless void, in the undivided chaos...".

This scripture expounds the core belief of the Daoist Shenxiao (Divine Empyrean) tradition concerning the origins and authority of the Shenxiao True King (also known as the Jade Purity True King). Initially formed from the primordial vast Qi (vital energy), he descended as one of the supreme Daoist deities called the "Jade Purity Divine Mother Primordial Sovereign." She spontaneously conceived a sacred embryo that gave birth to nine divine beings—the eldest being the Celestial Worthy of Primordial Beginning (Yuanshi Tianzun), and the youngest being the Shenxiao True King.

The Shenxiao True King corresponds to the number nine in cosmic numerology, governing nine types of primordial Qi. Shenxiao represents the highest of the nine celestial layers, belonging to the Jade Purity Heaven within the Nine Purity realms. Thus, the True King resides in the Exalted Divine Empyrean Jade Purity Palace. His primary responsibility is overseeing the Five Thunder Commands: before the cosmos took form, there was no thunder. After the Great Void unfolded and the Taiji (Supreme Ultimate) was established, the number "five" occupied the central position in Taiji numerology. This central yellow righteous Qi, identical to the primordial energy, dispersed throughout creation and divided into Yin and Yang energies. The interaction of Yin and Yang gave birth to thunder, with the Shenxiao True King as its sovereign ruler.

Thunder manifests as elusive and intangible, while thunder deities remain profoundly mysterious. They gather in the realm of supreme nothingness and return to the court of the Great Unity (Taiyi). At the highest level stands the Divine Empyrean Palace, while the vast Thunder City houses offices, generals, and soldiers who monitor nations and govern all beings. Centralized administration falls under the Thunder Ministry Headquarters, while decentralized governance divides among the Five Directional Thunder Gods. Whether droughts, floods, wars, plagues, locust infestations, celestial anomalies of sun and moon, wind, frost, rain, snow—or even mountains, rivers, plants, birds, beasts, and insects—all fall under the jurisdiction of the Jade Purity Divine Empyrean, acting solely upon the True King's decrees: rewarding good and punishing evil.

The authority of the Five Thunders spans the Three Realms of heaven, earth, and humanity, commanding all beings. They suppress malevolent forces, annihilate baleful stars, compel deities to prostrate, and make all creation obey. The Azure Radiance Sovereign of the Eastern Pole assists the True King, supported by the Imperial Lord of the Six Heavens. Subordinate offices include the True Lord of Ten Thousand Blessings governing the Left Ministry, the True Lord of the Right Ministry overseeing the Jade Pivot, along with the Thunder Ministry's Prime Minister, Jade Pivot Envoy, True Lord of Thunder Commands, and Five Thunder Commissioners—each managing specific thunder-related affairs with distinct responsibilities.

This passage expounds the system and essential principles of Daoist Thunder Magic (Leifa). The Thunder Department (Leishen system) comprises marshals, government offices with chief administrators, thunder cities with generals, thunder bureaus with officials, and thunder heavens with sovereigns—the entire Thunder Magic hierarchy mirrors the strict gradation of human bureaucracy. The Zhen trigram symbolizes the Thunder Palace, while the Xun trigram represents the Thunder Gate. Large manifestations are called Thunder (Lei), small ones are called Tinging—Thunder governs benevolence, while Ting governs malevolence. Yet all things in heaven and earth share the same intrinsic nature as thunder and lightning.

The Supreme Laozi (Daoism's highest deity), who comprehends the mysteries of Yin-Yang and controls the arcane mechanisms of creation, established esoteric Thunder Magic techniques including Fulu (talismans and registers), ritual diagrams, Gang hand-seals, and incantations. These were compiled into the Scripture of the Great Thunder Method of the Nine Heavens (Jiutian Leiting Dafa Langshu) and transmitted to worthy practitioners. Masters of this method can summon celestial soldiers with their seals, command divine generals through talismanic spells, harness wind and thunder, distinguish between humans and ghosts, enact cosmic justice, aid the world and save people, while eradicating evil forces. However, those who neglect cultivation, disclose celestial secrets, or transmit the methods to unworthy persons will be punished by the "Fire Elder's Wind-Thunder Mandate"—not only suffering eternal damnation themselves but causing nine generations of ancestors to be condemned as ghost officials eternally.

There are two classifications of thunder: Heavenly Thunder, Water Thunder, Mountain Thunder, Divine Thunder, and Earth Thunder constitute the "Five Thunders"; alternatively, Wind Thunder, Fire Thunder, Cloud Thunder, Dragon Thunder, and Barbarian Thunder form another "Five Thunders" system. Thunder connects with the Northern Dipper above and penetrates abyssal depths below, taking wind as its matchmaker, lightning as its wife, clouds as its servants, and rain as its offspring—its essence being the Qua-Gang Qi (pivotal energy) of the Central Heaven's Northern Dipper. As the number five corresponds to the Central Position in Wuxing (Five Phases), these are collectively termed "Five Thunders".

Thunder Magic practitioners must embody resolute integrity—the deceitful and cowardly must not recklessly pursue this path. Through sincere veneration, diligent cultivation of merit, and accumulation of three thousand virtuous deeds with eight hundred moral acts, the adept may ultimately wield the Dragon Spring (ritual sword) and suspend the Thunder God's Seal at their waist, commanding celestial troops to ascend to the heavenly realms. The colophon records that Bai Yuchan (renowned Southern Song Daoist) gathered with fellow sages at Drum Mountain's Hermit Immortal Hut in the intercalary third month of the Jimao year—when lingering rains first cleared, leaving misty mountain vistas evoking the lyrical ambiance of Wang Xizhi's Orchid Pavilion gathering.

(Note: "Fire Elder's Wind-Thunder Mandate" refers to celestial statutes punishing Thunder Magic transgressors; "nine generations and seven ancestors" denotes all ancestral lineage; "Dragon Spring" signifies the ritual sword; "Thunder Seal" indicates Thunder Magic credentials)

The blossoms wither on the tree branches, and the aged oriole sings no more. Raising my wine cup to share with guests, I observe some silent yet magnanimous, others composed and modest in demeanor. Though each person's temperament differs—some active, some still—our joy in poetry and wine remains the same. Only I feel a melancholy sorrow, sighing at the distant, unreachable Vermilion Palace (the celestial abode) and longing for the Blue Bird (the messenger of the Queen Mother of the West), now vanished without a trace. Chewing over the profound truths of the Dao (the Way), I can only laugh at myself, startled by the fleeting nature of life and secretly grieving. These unresolved emotions find solace only in wine, and my restless heart pours forth in verse.

Suddenly, the sky clears, and an endless gentle breeze arises. As if enlightened yet also freed, I say to my companions: What difference is there between human life and the mushrooms that sprout at dawn and wither by dusk? In the morning, one is full of vigor, yet by evening, already lost in old age. Thus, a dream lasting but half a meal's time may encompass an entire lifetime, and returning from seven days in the mountains to find a thousand years have passed in the mortal world is no surprise. Heaven, earth, sun, and moon are but illusions, bubbles on water. The body drifts with circumstance, and the spirit is tugged by external things. If one fails to grasp the millennia-long seasons of the Great Chun Tree (the immortal tree from the Zhuangzi) or the vast flight of the Roc Bird across ten thousand miles, one may drift aimlessly like rotting grass transforming into fireflies or withered wheat turning into butterflies.

The boundless mortal world stretches like endless kalpas of sand, and the future is as unpredictable as rolling waves. Looking around, people toil and rush about, like using luminous pearls to shoot at wild birds in the night—is this right? I say: Rather than letting the spirit chase after external things, better to regulate the breath and turn inward within the square inch of the Dantian (the energy center in Daoist practice), allowing the Shen (spirit) to ride the Qi (vital energy) and roam the land of Huaxu (the mythical paradise visited by the Yellow Emperor in a dream). Taking emptiness and non-being as the foundation of stillness, one may split open chaos and glimpse the origin.

Does not the Daode Jing say, "Born from emptiness, placed in Wuwei (non-action)"? I am originally empty and still, yet attachments arise from external things. If one truly understands this, a single moment may illuminate eternity, and a single grain of rice may contain the vast cosmos. Those who labor day and night refining elixirs and controlling fire (referring to Waidan, external alchemy) are merely exhausting themselves in vain. The early death of Yan Hui and the long life of the robber Zhi, Pengzu's eight hundred years and the short span of ordinary men—these things remain beyond my comprehension. The crane's legs are long, the duck's legs short—is this not the natural order? As Yin Wenzi (a Warring States philosopher) wisely said: To take a basin as the sea and a stone as a mountain is but a child's game.

This passage consists of two sections: the first expounds the principles of Daoist cultivation, while the second interprets the "Ode to Pine and Cliff."

The first section states: Just as fish traverse thousands of miles daily through ocean currents, ordinary people chase external objects, virtuous individuals focus on inner cultivation, and sages transcend all such distinctions. The myriad phenomena of this world vanish like lightning flashes or sparks from stone—transformations as unpredictable as an insect's leg becoming a rat's liver—yet none of this is truly remarkable. Understand that where sea meets sky, where the moon governs tidal rhythms, the Dao ultimately manifests as the unimpeded flow of Qi (vital energy). Heaven originally holds no division between cold and heat—humans create these distinctions with clothing; day and night possess no inherent brightness or darkness—people demarcate them using sun and moon; the earth presents no true barriers of mountains and rivers—we impose limitations through our footsteps; food carries no intrinsic purity or impurity—discriminations arise from hunger and satiation. One who comprehends this fundamental unity of Qi merges with all existence, transcending the fluctuations of joy and sorrow.

The "Ode to Pine and Cliff" interpretation explains: In Jiangxi lived an ascetic who called himself "Pine-Cliff," inspiring poetic tributes. Scholar Qiongshan commented: "Evergreen through seasons, unfading in winter's chill" describes the pine's character, while "Precipice towering ten-thousand ren, solitary revelation in emptiness" captures the cliff's essence—both symbolizing the wondrous mind of Nirvana. The pine represents cultivation practice: rooted in right faith, its grove is meditation, branches become wisdom, and leaves transform into skillful means. The cliff embodies awakened realization: its walls are steadfastness, paths turn wondrously subtle, sheer drops become direct insight, and upward openings lead to transcendence. This interpretation surpasses mundane understandings of pine and cliff. Finally, seasonal imagery illustrates cultivation states: spring resembles birdsong and blossoms revealing profound mysteries; summer mirrors pine breezes and moonbeams offering solitary clarity; autumn appears as maple leaves returning to emptiness through dew-laden winds; winter manifests as the full flowering of wisdom's blossoms.

The Collected Works of Immortal Bai Qionguan contains three distinct sections:

The first part depicts the scenery of Pine Cliff: The ancient pines stand with the primordial dignity of aged bamboo and bodhi trees. At dawn, snow reflects the crystalline clarity of clear skies, while dusk brings the profound darkness where heaven and earth lose all illumination. None can discern the true master of these crags—even celestial beings scattering blossoms cannot find their way here, and a thousand sages would vanish instantly within its mists. This Pine Cliff perceives a single dust mote as the entire void and compresses eight thousand human years into a single thought. A final inscription concludes: "Pines evergreen, cliffs unfathomably deep—dwelling here reveals the truth of emptiness."

The second section is a preface for Hut of Obscurity: It recounts how scholar Xiong Zhongli abandoned Confucianism to study Laozi's teachings. Naming his thatched hut "Obscurity" (蒙), he drew inspiration from the Book of Changes—combining the Gen hexagram (symbolizing stillness) with the Kan hexagram (symbolizing study)—thus embodying Laozi's doctrines of "knowing when to stop" and "reaching utmost emptiness." Xiong's synthesis of these principles allowed him to achieve what Laozi described as "concentrating Qi (气) to perfect suppleness," demonstrating genuine mastery of the Daoist sage's transmission.

The third portion is a farewell preface: The author reflects on his wandering life—from the South Sea to the East Sea, through southern and western mountain ranges—having studied countless texts yet accomplishing nothing, until finally embracing Daoism. During solitary retreats, he fortuitously met Overseer Zhu (a Daoist office title). Together they lodged below Soaring Cloud Peak, ascending at dawn to the Reclining Cloud Hermitage and night-wandering to the Singing Waters Terrace, exchanging verses over wine in perfect harmony. At parting, the author reminds Zhu: Though your destination in southern Fujian boasts Buddhist sacred sites (like Clear Source Cave and Golden Millet Mountain), remember always that Gezao Mountain remains the fundamental Daoist sanctuary.

This passage recounts the interactions between two Daoist figures and describes the spiritual attainment of a practitioner named Mirror Stream (Jingxi) Daoist.

The first part consists of a letter from Bai Yuchan (the Perfected Bai) to a friend. He expresses his desire to visit Liuyunlu, though they've never met, having long admired his reputation. In the southern regions, he has few close companions—only Zhuge Guiyin and Liu Ziyuan being his dearest friends. Ziyuan, being introverted by nature, makes his recent circumstances unknown; while Guiyin, though brilliant and unrestrained, lives in quiet poverty. Bai explains his own reclusive life in mountain forests leaves him disconnected from worldly news, instructing the recipient to inform figures like Li Yao'an should they meet that he still lives.

He then praises Yin Zhenlao (likely referring to Yin Xi) as an outstanding Daoist figure who, though born into officialdom, chose the path of cultivation. Yin could revitalize the dilapidated ancient Chongzhen Temple, using frugality to compensate for deficits, earning acclaim from mountain dwellers as the finest administrator in ninety years. As the friend prepares to journey south, Bai offers mountain scenery as parting gift, inviting him to share wine beneath the autumn moon for profound conversation.

The second section, "Preface to Mirror Stream," depicts the scenery around Chengxin Hermitage east of Zhongling City. Perched above Mirror Stream, the hermitage resonates with cries of gibbons and cranes amid bamboo and pines, its water surface mirror-still. The text observes how sublime landscapes nurture extraordinary individuals—here manifest in the practitioner Mingxin ("Illumined Heart"), whose Daoist name "Mirror Stream" signifies a heart clear as polished bronze yet profound as mountain waters. His undisturbed mind reflects all phenomena like a flawless mirror, while his unfathomable depth resembles hidden stream currents capable of containing heaven and earth. The conclusion reveals how "the numinous unity of serene emptiness" (the Daoist term for primordial spirit) embraces all existence—this being the true meaning of Mirror Stream.

(Notes: "Crown and robe" refers to monastic attire; "temple administration" indicates managing religious affairs; "clarifying the heart" denotes purifying the mind through practice; "the numinous unity of serene emptiness" is the Daoist designation for the innate primordial spirit.)

This passage elucidates how practitioners can recognize their true selves through inner contemplation, while also describing the spiritual attainment of the eminent monk Chan Master Hansong.

Practitioners must relinquish worldly attachments (sever red dust) to perceive their original face, just as clearing the sky reveals its fundamental vista. Genuine awakening isn't illusory like viewing forms in a mirror or catching the moon's reflection in water, but rather resembles measuring cloud-capped peaks or penetrating the subject-object dichotomy. Whether encountering brightness or darkness, foreign or native appearances (all phenomenal manifestations), one must never lose direction but trace back to the source. True wisdom requires no artificial polishing—when face to face, no distinction between front and back remains. Like waves ultimately returning to the ocean, Patriarch Dongshan perceived the Dao in all phenomena, while Chan Master Lingyun achieved sudden enlightenment in the present moment—these represent authentic, undeniable spiritual attainments.

Chan Master Hansong stands as a pillar of contemporary Buddhism, wielding heaven-propping methods and unparalleled renown. His solitary nobility and transcendent realization destined him to become an outstanding lineage holder in the Linji school (a major Chan branch). Inheriting the dharma lineage of Dahui Zonggao (the eminent Song Dynasty Chan master), nourished by the illumination of Buddhist Virtue Light (the Song Dynasty monk De'guang), and personally instructed by Master Guyun (a contemporary eminent monk), his integrity rivals bamboo and plum blossoms—other practitioners appear as mere beginners in comparison.

Finally, the author Bai Yuchan (the renowned Southern Song Daoist master) concludes that such profound understanding can only be grasped by the Bai clan descendants of Hainan (referring to himself).

The passage presents two distinct sections: the first employs pine trees as a metaphor for the Daoist cultivator's character, while the second documents an elegant gathering centered around qin music.

The opening allegory of the ancient pine depicts the true Daoist practitioner as resembling an age-old pine rooted deep in mountain wilderness. Though its gnarled roots twist through the earth, its trunk soars through the clouds, standing straight enough to prop up heaven and earth. Unfazed by frost and snow, it requires no worldly honors (like the "Dafu" official title bestowed upon trees in imperial tradition), nor is it some carefully cultivated cultivar (the so-called "recluse's planting"). This "shadowless tree" possesses its own transcendent power—thriving in barren soil, its crown could shade Mount Sumeru (the mythical Buddhist mountain), its branches attract phoenixes. When the Sixth Patriarch Huineng declared "Bodhi is fundamentally without trees," or when Huangbo spoke of "shading the whole world," they pointed to this same transcendent realm. After weathering life's storms, the cultivator naturally becomes timber fit for celestial architecture.

The latter section chronicles a qin gathering: Daoist Wang Jun of Gefeng was playing his zither by West Lake when he encountered Bai Yuchan (Qiongshan) who had journeyed from Jizhou to Hangzhou. Seated together to appreciate the music, Bai gazed at the misty mountains and waters, sighing at life's transient nature. Adjusting his robes and collecting his Qi, Wang began playing—first a melody resembling orioles singing in spring breeze or distant shore rain; then suddenly shifting to warmer tones as if the Flower Goddess descended; transforming again into southern zephyrs caressing the listeners. The entire scene embodied the refined transcendence of literati culture, floating above worldly dust.

As dusk fell, returning geese murmured softly beyond the window, when suddenly the delicate plucking of zither strings drifted through the bamboo blinds. The ethereal melody carried such distant resonance, one might imagine standing by lotus-filled ponds in waterside pavilions. As the tune shifted into the mournful seven-stringed mode of Guxian (an ancient musical pitch from the twelve-tone system), it drew involuntary furrows in the listener's brow. The music flowed now slow, now urgent, like drifting clouds across an autumn sky.

Mountains merged into twilight's embrace as solitary peaks echoed with the plaintive cries of gibbons. The dancing strings and leaping tuning pegs (zither's small tuning posts) created an atmosphere soaring straight to the heavens. Amidst the trees, crows cawed; across ten thousand misted peaks, the music suddenly turned cold and piercing as frost, then softened like snowfall pattering on a bamboo hut. Qiongshan (the listener) exclaimed in awe: "Hearing you play is like ascending Kunlun's summit—where a thousand cliffs and cloud-veiled barriers unfold before the eyes, dazzling with hues of violet, emerald, and crimson. It is as though sailing the Bohai Sea, where towering waves crash against the legendary Ten Continents and Three Isles, while whales, giant turtles, and sea dragons transform endlessly, overwhelming the senses!"

"Your music shifts with every breath, cycling through the seasons in moments. It can stir reclusive hermits to sudden cries of exultation, or draw melancholy frowns from jeweled maidens in their chambers. Such artistry harmonizes with the primordial Dao and resonates with the state of Wuwei (non-action, a core Daoist concept)—what boundless joy!" Wang Zhongzhang replied: "Since childhood, I practiced the zither at Gefeng Peak, and what you describe has been my lifelong pursuit. I have a small studio named 'Zither's Joy,' and Qiongshan has honored me with verses inspired by its music." This gentleman's courtesy name was Zhongzhang.