《女丹合編》Vol. 9

This passage expounds the fundamental principles and precepts for women practicing the Golden Elixir (Jindan) path of cultivation. The author, known as "Yongzhong Zhenyi Zi," emphasizes that heaven and earth embody the distinction between Yin and Yang—men embody Yang's strength like the Qian hexagram, while women embody Yin's softness like the Kun hexagram. Only through the harmonious union of Yin and Yang can all things flourish. Women equally possess the potential to attain immortality, as evidenced by female transcendents like the Queen Mother of the West (Xiwangmu), Chang'e, and the Goddess of the Luo River.

The first step in cultivation is to establish unwavering resolve. Many women drown in the ocean of desires, ignorant of feminine virtues (the Four Virtues: moral conduct, proper speech, dignified appearance, and domestic skills) and social proprieties (the Three Obediences: to father before marriage, to husband after marriage, and to son after widowhood). They allow passions to obscure their innate nature, sinking deeper into the cycle of rebirth. In truth, the path to immortality lies before them—the key is realizing that "Buddha is mind, mind is Buddha." The "jade mercury and golden lead" (referring to the refinement of Jing, Qi, and Shen in the body) in Golden Elixir practice serves as the treasure to transcend life and death, while Daoist scriptures and Buddhist texts form the ladder to ascension. However, the secrets of cultivation are often veiled in obscurity, requiring guidance from an enlightened master and gradual progression.

Twelve foundational precepts are then listed: 1) Do not indulge in wild thoughts; 2) Do not surrender to lustful indulgence; 3) Do not be harsh and mean-tempered; 4) Do not give way to anger and vexation; 5) Do not succumb to worry and fear; 6) Do not gaze upon licentious and depraved things (the original text only enumerates the first six precepts, leaving the latter six incomplete). These precepts aim to preserve mental clarity and purity, laying the groundwork for advanced practice.

Particularly noteworthy is the text's emphasis that although women possess Yin's gentle disposition, through cultivation they can attain the rank of Primordial Sovereign (Yuanjun) like the Queen Mother of the West. The author cites legends such as Chang'e stealing the elixir to ascend to the moon and the Jade Pool Immortals described by Zhuangzi, demonstrating that female transcendence has existed since ancient times—thus dispelling the prejudice that "Yin's receptivity bars women from the Dao."

This scripture expounds twelve precepts for female practitioners, along with essential teachings on controlling delusional thoughts.

The twelve prohibitions for female cultivators include: not listening to false speech, avoiding arrogant chatter, abstaining from stinginess with wealth, refraining from killing living beings, eschewing gluttony for meat, and never disrespecting the Dao or one's teachers. While women should guard against more than just these twelve, adhering to these fundamental precepts brings one closer to immortality.

Special emphasis is placed on eliminating delusional thoughts. Mental states determine actions—right thoughts lead to virtuous deeds while delusions bear bitter fruit. The heart-mind (Xin) resembles a sovereign, while thoughts are like ministers; when the ruler is clear-sighted, the whole being attains harmony. The ancients spoke of "thoughtless thought" (Wu Nian Zhi Nian) as true intention—this pristine awareness is the crux of Neidan (internal alchemy, where "lead and mercury" symbolize the Yin-Yang energies). Authentic cultivation requires maintaining this pure consciousness constantly, not the chaotic proliferation of delusional thoughts.

Delusional thoughts arise without warning—before one thought fades, another emerges, making people swing between arrogant elation and self-pity, finding no peace day or night, with even sleep offering no mental respite. Such thoughts manifest in behavior, distancing one from the immortal path. Even when not acted upon, the celestial deities observe everything. The cycle of life and death stems from a single misdirected thought—wherever attachment lingers becomes one's rebirth destination.

True practitioners understand delusions obscure innate nature (Xing) and perpetuate rebirth. They examine thoughts meticulously: Where do they originate? How do they vanish? What exists before thoughts arise? What changes after they emerge? Upon detecting delusions, one must sever them with the sword of wisdom, uprooting them completely to prevent covert growth. Ultimately, one attains a transcendent state—a mind empty yet luminous, where all thoughts still into singular spiritual clarity.

This passage discusses the crucial importance of eliminating sexual desire in the practice of female neidan (internal alchemy for women).

The most difficult barrier for humans to overcome is the obstacle of emotional and sexual desire. The very existence of human life stems from this unsevered root of lust; our physical bodies originate from our parents' sexual union. Since humans are born from sexual activity, our habitual tendencies in this regard run deepest, making the root of lust the hardest to eradicate. Human vitality depends entirely on jing (essence) and qi (vital energy). Indulging in lust damages these essential energies, and such damage leads to physical weakness and the proliferation of illnesses. As the ancients said: "A hundred doses of tonic medicine cannot compare to a single night of solitary sleep"—this emphasizes the need to cherish one's vital essence. The degree to which one preserves their jing directly corresponds to the length of their lifespan. After completing the foundational stage (zhuji) of cultivation and achieving non-leakage of essence and energy, one may attain longevity.

Women are particularly prone to fluctuating emotions and desires. Once they become attached to sexual indulgence, the fires of lust can burn uncontrollably. Without a husband to satisfy their desires, they may easily commit shameful acts. Even without actual physical transgression, the mere stirring of lustful thoughts can scatter vital energies throughout the body. There's the story of Wei Shiyiniang who, while studying the Dao, was tested by her master who transformed into a handsome man attempting seduction and even forced violation—yet she remained unmoved, thus receiving the true transmission. Therefore, those who haven't severed the root of lust mostly miss their chance at immortality. Even if they happen to hear cultivation methods, practicing amid sexual desire rarely succeeds. Forced cultivation may produce a "dan embryo," but it would merely be a lust-conceived fetus—should the spirit (shen) leave the body during sexual activity, it would result in reincarnation, nullifying all previous efforts. Even heavenly maidens who fall to the mortal realm do so because their emotional attachments remain unbroken.

The method to abstain from lust lies in "not thinking and not seeing": preventing lustful thoughts stops trouble before it begins, while avoiding sexual stimuli cuts off current desires. The Wenchang Emperor advised: "Don't let your mind wander when you haven't seen anything; don't let your thoughts run wild when you do see; don't reminisce afterward"—this is the golden rule for abstaining from lust. Yet merely avoiding thoughts, distractions, and memories isn't enough. One must completely sever the root of desire, seeing through the emptiness of physical beauty, and remain unmoved when facing temptation.

The Compilation of Female Alchemy (Nüdan Hebian) presents two essential teachings for cultivation:

The first part illustrates through the story of Lady Wei Shiyi the necessity of severing carnal desires for spiritual practice. Lady Wei was a poor woman in Chang'an during the Song dynasty. After her husband disappeared in military service and she faced harassment from her brother-in-law, she sought refuge with Daoist nun Zhao, a childhood acquaintance. One night, the nun disguised herself as a man to test Wei's resolve, scaling the wall and threatening her with a sword to force compliance. Wei preferred death to violation, thus passing the trial and receiving authentic transmission. This parable emphasizes that seeking the immortal path while harboring lustful intentions is fundamentally impossible.

The second part expounds the three prohibitions against "harshness, cruelty, and malice": While fortitude is inherently virtuous, its excess transforms into brutality. True cultivators should emulate the merciful heart of the Primordial Goddess (Yuanshi Tianzun's feminine manifestation, here called Shengmu Yuanjun), viewing all under heaven as one family; or follow the compassionate nature of Guanyin (referred to as Cihang), the Bodhisattva of universal salvation. Should a practitioner's strength turn to violence, it breeds cruelty and callousness—qualities utterly contrary to the benevolent spirit essential to Daoist cultivation.

(Note: The term "female alchemy" refers to specialized Neidan practices for women practitioners. "Shengmu Yuanjun" is an honorific title for Daoist goddesses, while "Cihang" is an alternative name for Guanyin/Avalokiteshvara.)

This scripture primarily discusses the four detrimental mental dispositions that female practitioners of Neidan (internal alchemy, a Daoist method of health cultivation and spiritual refinement) must overcome, along with methods for nurturing one's temperament.

First, it addresses how a harsh and violent nature causes one to lose the Kun Dao (the receptive, yielding virtue proper to femininity). Those who are cruel and unkind lack the generous, nurturing quality of the earth and are not accepted by heaven and earth. The text advises those with fiery tempers to cultivate gentleness, treating others with the warmth of a spring breeze, while those inclined to severity should transform their disposition into benevolence, showering grace upon all like timely rain. When one’s outward demeanor becomes so mild, the inner nature naturally grows luminous and vibrant, full of vitality—only then is one worthy of the guidance of Guanyin (the Bodhisattva of Compassion, revered in both Buddhism and Daoism).

Next, it specifically warns against the dangers of irritability and anger. Frustration arises from resentment toward hardship, yet all endeavors in life require patience to complete. Cultivating the mind demands even greater endurance, for when the Shen (spirit) has long been scattered, the initial process of gathering the heart-mind is as difficult as taming a dragon or tiger—it must be nurtured step by step. Each day of refinement brings progress, and ultimately, one will naturally reach perfection. Anger, on the other hand, stems from resentment when things do not go as desired—but how can worldly affairs always conform to our wishes? Those prone to rage often harbor malice in their hearts. The scripture cites two cautionary tales (the legends of Xiala and Empress Xi) of individuals who, consumed by anger, transformed into serpents and pythons.

Finally, it mentions the harm caused by excessive worry, anxiety, and fear. Overthinking damages the spleen (which, in Traditional Chinese Medicine, governs transformation and transportation), leading to stagnation of Qi. Fear and shock injure the kidneys (which store Jing, or essence), resulting in a scattered Shen. These emotional states must be avoided during cultivation.

In summary, the text emphasizes that practitioners must foster a gentle, tolerant, and patient temperament while eliminating negative emotions such as aggression, harshness, and anger. Through gradual daily refinement, one may achieve a perfected state of mind.

When people worry excessively about things before they happen and panic when events are about to occur, these behaviors disturb their innate nature and deplete their Jing (essence), Qi (vital energy), and Shen (spirit). If such mental habits are not abandoned, they can easily lead to internal injuries and illnesses. The remedy lies in maintaining inner stillness and clarity, not allowing external matters to linger in the heart. When worries arise, analyze them rationally. If reason cannot dispel them, simply let them be—what use is excessive anxiety?

People fear misfortune because they dread calamity befalling them. But if one lives with integrity, blameless before heaven and others, having wronged no one, why would others seek to harm them? Even if sudden misfortune strikes, life and death are fated—accept them with equanimity. The ancient sages remained unshaken even with Mount Tai collapsing before them or a blade at their necks, all because their spirit was settled. In the past, the Daoist immortal Wanqiu tested Qingwu Gong (another immortal) with sensory temptations and emotional disturbances—colors, sounds, scents, flavors, touch, and the seven emotions (joy, anger, sorrow, fear, love, hate, desire). Qingwu Gong still failed to transcend two of them, so he could only attain the rank of an earthly immortal (not the highest state). If practitioners neglect this aspect of cultivation, they will remain ordinary mortals—how could they ever attain the Dao?

The sixth precept is: Do not look indiscriminately. The eyes are the chief of the "six thieves" (the six senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and thought). When the eyes behold beauty, the heart is drawn to it, causing the Hun (ethereal soul) to leak through the eyes, which harms the liver. At night, the Hun resides in the liver, while during the day, it dwells in the eyes. Indiscriminate looking leads to the Hun leaking out, resulting in excessive dreaming at night. The reason sages do not dream is that they turn their gaze inward, preventing the Hun from wandering outward all day and the heart from being ensnared by beauty. Thus, to collect the heart, one must first discipline the eyes. The method is to frequently turn the gaze inward to the Mysterious Pass (a vital point in the body), preserving the innate clarity of one’s nature and nurturing an unmoving spirit. In this way, one naturally avoids indiscriminate looking, restless thoughts, wandering Hun, and dissipated energy—allowing the primordial Qi to return to the body.

The seventh precept is: Do not listen indiscriminately. The kidneys open into the ears. Indiscriminate listening agitates the heart with sounds, causing Jing (essence) to leak through the ears and harming the kidneys. The kidneys store the primordial true water (kidney essence), which nourishes the body’s Qi and blood. Damaging the kidneys leads to withered skin, depleted essence, and deafness. If one can often focus inwardly and listen within, not only will the heart remain undisturbed by sounds, but the spirit will also be nourished, keeping the essence anchored in the kidneys. In this way, immortality is not far off.

The eighth precept is: Do not speak recklessly. Words easily invite disaster. Confucius praised Nan Rong (his disciple) for "repeatedly contemplating the flawless white jade," meaning he was cautious in speech and conduct.

This passage outlines three essential precepts for women practicing Neidan (internal alchemy) cultivation:

Regarding speech, it explains that excessive talking depletes one's Shen (spirit). When Sima Niu inquired about benevolence, the sage taught him the importance of cautious speech. Maintaining silence is like sealing a vessel—it stabilizes the spirit and prevents misspoken words in social interactions.

Concerning wealth, it clarifies that money exists for human use but should not become an obsession. Excessive miserliness cannot purchase longevity, even with vast riches. Rather than hoarding wealth, one should practice charity to accumulate De (virtue) and forge connections with the immortals. True Daoist practitioners regard prosperity as fleeting clouds and gold as worthless dirt—they don’t even cling to their own bodies, let alone external possessions.

On the subject of killing, it emphasizes that all beings under heaven share the virtue of cherishing life. Taking life violates cosmic principles and contradicts the sage’s compassion. Humans and animals alike treasure their lives—we should empathize with this universal instinct. Ancient wisdom states that releasing captive creatures prolongs one’s lifespan, with historical records documenting such karmic rewards. Cultivators must nurture mercy and protect living beings.

A final note on diet observes that while meat nourishes the body, vegetarians also maintain robust health. In antiquity, people ate plant-based diets and enjoyed greater longevity—implying that practitioners should reduce meat consumption to purify body and mind.

Why do meat-eaters tend to have shorter lifespans? Because rich, greasy, and sweet foods easily stir internal fire, and overindulgence often leads to unrestrained desires that deplete Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy). In contrast, the five grains and whole foods contain the harmonious Qi of heaven and earth—they are the purest nourishment and most beneficial for cultivating life. Moreover, using the flesh of animals to nourish one’s own body is ethically troubling from a Daoist perspective. Buddhists abstain from meat precisely to avoid accumulating karmic debts of killing for the sake of appetite. The Lady of Southern Peak (a Daoist immortal) once admonished Yang Xi (an Eastern Jin dynasty Daoist): "Those who cultivate the Dao should avoid flesh and blood—even the sight of it should be shunned, let alone actively consuming it." Dead animals generate corpse Qi, and contact with such things severely hinders spiritual practice. Thus, adepts must restrain their consumption of meat.

The Twelfth Precept: Do Not Disrespect the Dao or Look Down Upon Teachers

Nothing in this world is more precious than the Great Dao of the Golden Elixir (Neidan practice), which enables transcendence beyond the mundane, liberation from the cycle of life and death, and salvation for nine generations of ancestors. In ancient times, seekers endured countless trials before encountering the true Dao—how could this be an ordinary matter? Even Emperor Wen of Han humbly sought guidance from the Sage of the Riverbank (a Han dynasty recluse); a wealthy man like Ma Danyang (one of the Quanzhen Seven Masters) still bowed sincerely to Wang Chongyang (founder of Quanzhen Daoism); a warrior like Han Zhongli (one of the Eight Immortals) lowered his head to learn from Wang Xuanfu (a legendary figure); and a scholar as erudite as Ge Hong (author of Baopuzi) knelt in reverence before his teacher Zheng Siyuan. Seekers must never rely on their wealth, status, knowledge, or cleverness. Like Wu Chongxu (a Ming dynasty Neidan master), one must serve and inquire earnestly for twenty years to receive genuine transmission.

The transmission of Daoist methods is equally solemn. Baopuzi records that to receive the "True One Formula" (an advanced practice), one must establish a blood oath, select an auspicious day with silver and white silk as pledges, and divide a metal contract in half. Those who transmit teachings carelessly forfeit divine protection. Since antiquity, immortals and perfected beings have only transmitted the Great Dao after fasting, purification, and preparing ritual offerings—including blood oaths to heaven, petitions to the Jade Emperor, the Three Terraces Stars, the Northern Dipper and Southern Pole, the Three Officials, the Four Saints, and the Five Directional Emperors—seeking celestial permission before teaching. Every conversion is witnessed by heaven and earth. If wicked individuals exploit wealth to deceive, or if masters and disciples transmit privately, both parties invite celestial retribution. When transmission demands such gravity, how could students not approach it with reverence?

The Master Who Embraces Simplicity (sobriquet of Ge Hong, the renowned Jin dynasty Daoist) said: The virtue (De) of an enlightened master (one who truly comprehends the Dao) is indeed vaster than heaven and earth, more significant than one's parents. How could one not revere and honor such a teacher?

This passage reveals that when truth-seekers encounter a genuine enlightened master, they should approach with reverence, maintain respectful devotion, diligently seek instruction, inquire deeply, and persevere without slackening. Only through such commitment can they ultimately receive the heart-method (the essential teachings of cultivation) and find the path leading to celestial realms.

This discusses the crucial master-disciple relationship in Daoist practice. Ancient practitioners considered meeting an enlightened master as pivotal to spiritual cultivation, requiring disciples to adopt an attitude of "diligent seeking and earnest questioning" through prolonged study. This resonates with modern educational values emphasizing respect for teachers and proactive learning. The phrase "pathway to celestial ascent" refers to the means of ultimately attaining immortality through proper cultivation.