Travels of an Alchemist — The Chinggis Khan Account

✦ ─── ⟐ ─── ✦

The Journey of the Perfected Qiu Chuji to the Western Lands, Recorded by Li Zhichang


Qiu Chuji (1148–1227), styled Tongmi and known to posterity by his Daoist name Changchun — "Eternal Spring" — was born in Qixia in Shandong and took the habit before his coming of age, entering the school of Wang Chongyang, founder of the Quanzhen ("Complete Perfection") order. He spent thirteen years of withdrawal in the caves of Panxi and Longmen, emerged as one of the "Seven Perfected" of his lineage, and in his old age returned to the coast of Shandong, where his fame as teacher and poet had already spread through the realms of Song, Jin, and the rising Mongol empire.

In 1219, at the height of the western campaign against Khwarezm, Chinggis Khan — whether from curiosity, from the rumour that the master possessed an art of long life, or from the counsel of Liu Wen at his court — dispatched his envoy Liu Zhonglu with a golden tiger tablet and a letter of summons. Qiu was then seventy-one. He accepted. The journey that followed, from the spring of 1220 to the spring of 1224, took him across the Ongon desert, past the Yehuling pass, over the Altai and the Tian Shan, through Samarkand and across the Amu Darya, to the khan's summer camp in the mountains south of Termez. There he gave three discourses on the Way, which the khan ordered recorded in both Mongolian and Chinese. Then the old master turned home, crossed the mountains again, reached Beijing in the spring of 1224, and lived three more years, dying in July 1227 at the age of seventy-nine — the same summer Chinggis Khan himself died in the Liupan mountains, a few weeks earlier.

This record was kept by his disciple Li Zhichang (1193–1256), who travelled at his side the whole way and later became the sixth patriarch of the Quanzhen school. Li compiled the text soon after the master's death and included it in the Daoist canon. It is one of the great travel narratives of world literature: the only firsthand Chinese account of Inner Asia during the Mongol conquests, an irreplaceable source for the place-names and peoples of Central Asia in the 1220s, and the record of a singular meeting between a Chinese religious teacher and the most powerful man of the age.

Arthur Waley's English version of 1931, titled "Travels of an Alchemist," was the first in a European language, and Emil Bretschneider in 1888 had earlier rendered portions for his "Medieval Researches from Eastern Asiatic Sources." Both were consulted here for the reconstruction of Central Asian place-names and ethnonyms, but the English of this translation is derived independently from the Classical Chinese.


Book One

The Summons

Our father the master, the Perfected Changchun, was of the Qiu clan, with given name Chuji and style Tongmi. He was a man of Qixia in Dengzhou. Before his capping he left home and took the Perfected Chongyang as his teacher. Afterwards he dwelt at Panxi and at Longmen for thirteen years, and by long accumulation of effort the Way he sought was accomplished in him. In his later years he returned to the seacoast. Before the year wuyin (1218), while the master was in Dengzhou, the court of Henan (that is, the Jin) had several times wished to dispatch envoys to summon him, but the matter each time went awry and came to nothing. The next year he was residing at the Haotian Abbey in Laizhou. In the summer, fourth month, an envoy arrived from the Jin controller of the frontier marches, inviting the master to come with him. The master refused; the envoy returned carrying a poem the master had written. Next an envoy came from Daliang (Kaifeng); on the road he heard that Shandong had fallen to the Song, and turned back. In the eighth month of that year the great Song commanders Li and Peng sent to invite him; he did not go. After that, wherever he went he received invitations, and the head of his house at Laizhou found the matter wearying. The master said: "Whether I go or stay is Heaven's affair, not a thing you can fathom. When the time comes that staying will not hold, I shall depart."

Not long afterwards, the emperor Chinggis sent his attendant Liu Zhonglu bearing a golden tiger-head tablet, whose inscription read: Act as though I myself had come. With him were twenty Mongol men. They delivered the edict and earnestly pressed the invitation. As the master hesitated, Zhonglu said: "The master's name is weighty in the four seas; the emperor has singly commanded Zhonglu to cross mountain and sea, fixing no limit of months or years, until the master is brought." The master said: "Since the beginnings of war, this frontier and that — that you should have braved danger to reach here, one may call it toil indeed." Zhonglu said: "I have reverently received the sovereign's command; how shall I not exhaust my strength? In the fifth month of this year I received the edict in the ordo of the Naiman country. In the sixth I reached Weining north of Baideng, where the feathered guest (Daoist) Chang Zhen passed the command on to me. In the seventh I reached Dexing, and because the Juyong road was cut, Yanjing sent soldiers to escort me. In the eighth I arrived at the capital; the Daoists all said, 'Whether the master is to be had or not cannot be known for certain.' Passing through Zhongshan and Zhending, I got wind that the master was in Donglai. From the pacification officers Wu Yan and Jiang Yuan of Yidu prefecture I learned the particulars, and wished to meet the master with five thousand troops. Yan and the others said: 'The men east of the capital, hearing that the two courts have agreed on peace, are only now beginning to settle. If you suddenly lead troops in, all will take refuge in strongholds or set sail on the sea. If you truly wish to accomplish the thing, you need no soldiers at all.' I took their advice and called for volunteers — twenty horsemen in all. Nearing Yidu, I sent Yan and Yuan ahead to announce me to the commander Zhang Lin, and Lin came out to the suburbs with ten thousand armoured men to meet us. I laughed and said, 'I have come here to seek out the Perfected Changchun. What use have you for armoured men?' Lin then dismissed his troops, and we entered side by side, bridle to bridle. Wherever we went I said the same thing, and no one was alarmed. Lin supplied post-horses. At Weizhou I got Master Yin. In the twelfth month of winter we came together to Donglai and delivered the imperial reason for the summons." The master, knowing refusal was not possible, said slowly to Zhonglu: "Food is scarce here. You gentlemen should go on to Yidu. When I have finished my First Full Moon offering (Shangyuan zhai), I shall ask you to send fifteen riders." On the eighteenth he set out. So the envoy and the others went westward into Yidu, and the master chose in advance nineteen disciples of his gate to wait for them. When the riders arrived on the appointed day, he went with them.

Across Hebei

From Weiyang to Qingshe the envoy had already gone ahead. On inquiry, Zhang Lin said: "On the seventh day of the first month four hundred horsemen appeared at Linzi, and the people of Qingzhou were greatly alarmed. The envoy rode out and stopped them; where he is now is not known." The master passed on through Changshan and Zouping. At the beginning of the second month he reached Jiyang. The gentry and common folk bore incense and fire and bowed to receive him at the south of the town; a feathered guest led the way with long chanting. They dined at the Yangsu Hermitage. The assembled said: "On the eighteenth of last month more than ten cranes came from the northwest, calling among the clouds and passing away to the southeast. Next day between the hours of chen and si several more cranes came from the southwest; then hundreds and thousands followed, wheeling up and down, and a single crane brushed our hermitage and circled round before leaving. Now we know that the day the cranes appeared was the hour of the master's setting out." All placed their hands at their foreheads in reverence. He stayed several days. Early in the second month the envoy sent a rider to announce: "I have halted my troops at Jiangling, and moored boats waiting." The next day he set out.

On the thirteenth the envoy came with soldiers to meet him. The master said: "Why so late?" The reply: "The road was tangled with bandits. I had to go in person to Yanjing and assemble troops — east to garrison Xin'an, west to hold Changshan. I myself led the army to take Shenzhou and bring down Wuyi, to open the road; I built a bridge over the Hutuo and collected boats at Jiangling. Hence the delay." The master said: "None but you could have done it." Next day they crossed the Hutuo and went north.

On the twenty-second they came to Lugou. Officials of the capital, gentry and common people, monks and Daoists met them in the suburbs. That day they entered by the Lize Gate; the Daoists in full regalia preceded him with long chanting. The provincial administrator Shimo Gong lodged the master at the Yuxu Abbey. From this time on those who sought his verses and those who asked for Daoist names filled the gate daily. Wherever the armies went, men professing the Way under him, bearing his name, often escaped the disasters of war: such was the shelter the master's Way gave to others. The pacifier Wang Jichuan Ji presented a poem; the master replied:

Banners flap, horses whinny;
northward I look — the army of Yan crosses the stone bridge.
Ten thousand li I would go, beyond the sands;
in the third spring of life I part from sea-mountain, far away.
Good friends pass the frontier like the returning geese;
my broken cap, through the frost, is mended with marten again.
Since the Mystic Primordial went west,
no call from the northern court has matched this until now.

The master heard that the imperial camp was gradually moving westward, and being already advanced in years and weary of braving wind and sand, wished to wait until the emperor returned to pay his respects. Moreover Zhonglu proposed to travel with a choice of virgins in the party; the master found this hard, and said: "When the men of Qi presented their girl-musicians, Confucius left Lu. I, though a wild man of the hills, am not to go in company with maidens." Zhonglu then sent Gela (Qara) galloping to report. The master likewise sent a man with a memorial. One day someone asked for a colophon on Yan Liben's painting The Most High Passing the Pass. He wrote:

On the day he went west to Shu Commandery,
at the hour he parted east of Hangu Pass —
if the barbarians bow their heads,
the Great Way will open its base again.

He also showed the assembly two gāthās. The first:

Confused, they go from dawn to dusk,
reckless from antiquity to now —
empty blossoms, empty still thoughts,
a mind that is and is not.

The second:

When feeling touches, be resolute and sharp;
if it is not the Way, do not keep company.
Patience under shame tames the ape and horse;
calm and at ease, pass through the seasons.

In the first days of the fourth month the congregation requested him to officiate at a Full Moon offering at Tianchang. The master declined, citing his journey. They pressed him the more: "Now war has not ended, and the remaining people count themselves lucky just to see the Perfected once. Many have been sheltered by the Way. Only the dead, in the long night of shadow, have not been raised, and their remnant grief is not nothing." The master consented. It was then the height of a drought. On the fourteenth, when the rites were begun, great rain descended. The people were troubled that the rites would be spoiled, but after noon, as the master went to the altar to perform the office, the weather cleared. All rejoiced, saying: "Rain and clear sky follow the master's wish. Without deep virtue, could there be such response?" Next day the master ascended the Baoxuan Hall and transmitted the precepts. Several cranes came from the northwest, and all looked up. As the paper prayers were being burned, one slip flew into the air and vanished, and five cranes danced above. The gentry and officials all said the master's utter sincerity had moved Heaven and Earth. Zhang Tiandu, "old man of South Pond," styled Zizhen, composed a rhapsody celebrating the event, and others wrote poems.

When the rites were finished, Envoy Liu followed the master north. The road led through Juyong. By night they met a band of robbers north of the pass, who all bowed their foreheads to the ground and withdrew, saying: "Do not alarm the father master." In the fifth month the master reached the Longyang Abbey at Dexing to pass the summer. He sent a poem to the gentry of Yanjing:

Where does one climb to the Perfected — by floating a spirit-raft?
South, north, east, west — each has its own excellence.
The azure heavens, cloud peaks, the view of Heaven;
the dark waves, sea-mirage, the livelihood of rain.
Though the spirit wanders the eight directions, far as that is,
the Way meets the Three Pure Ones — the road does not mistake.
Across thirty myriad leagues of the Weak Water,
with a rising body one reaches the immortals' house in a moment.

At this time his fellows of the Way in the capital — Sun Zhou, Yang Biao, Shi Xu, Li Shiqian, Liu Zhong, Chen Shike, Wu Zhang, Zhao Zhongli, Wang Rui, Zhao Fang, Sun Xi — were the gentlemen with whom he had exchanged verses while lodging at Yuxu. Wang Gou and Wang Zhizai also joined that company. The abbey sat on the sunny side of the Chanfang hills, where many grottoes exist, always tenanted by men of the Way cultivating perfection; the master gathered the community for a ramble. On first entering the gorge-gate he composed:

Entering the gorge, the pure wander is excellently good:
a forest of peaks, arrayed ranks, jagged as halberd-teeth.
Not yet at Penglai, the realm of spirits —
first I see the grotto-palace, home of Daoists.
Pine pagodas hang inverted under autumn rain-dew;
stone storeys catch aslant the late cloud-rose.
I think back to the old days at Zhongnan,
dream broken at the western hills, no end in sight.

The place was high and open, tilting to the southeast; one could see three hundred li at a glance. A few li east of the abbey, on level ground, a cold spring welled up, limpid and lovable. The master came and went there, and wrote:

After noon, facing the wind, back to the sun, I walk;
distant mountains fill the eye, tangled clouds cross.
Ten thousand households scorch their bowels in cruel heat;
one stream of cold spring enters to the bone, pure.
Tidings come back and forth from the northern lands;
roaming the eastern heights, the common folk have no contention.
(The ploughmen and cowherds yield their shaded seats by the dyke.)
After a bath at the brook-edge I sit under trees,
loose-haired, open-collared, the Way's feeling free.

On the day of Zhongyuan (fifteenth of the seventh month) an offering was held at the abbey. After noon, as talismans were transmitted and precepts given, old and young sat in the open, and the heat was sore. Suddenly a cloud covered them, in the shape of a round canopy, and for a long while did not disperse. The congregation leaped for joy and gave thanks. Again, the well at the abbey could supply a hundred men; now that they were over a thousand, the steward was planning to fetch water elsewhere. For three days on end the well overflowed and could not be exhausted — a heavenly help granted by good affinity. After the offering he wrote:

The Most High's great compassion saves the myriad souls;
all beings gain blessing by the sūtras.
The Three Fields guard the vital breath and spirit;
the myriad forms revere sun, moon, and star.
I myself, a fleshly body, have hidden leaks,
yet cannot escape the teaching, entering the formless.
For now, let us follow the Big Dipper fast;
(The Southern and Northern Dippers both name the fast.)
soon we shall climb to the Southern Palace's fire-refining court.

At the beginning of the eighth month, accepting the invitation of Marshal Yila of Xuande prefecture, he took up residence at the Chaoyuan Abbey. On the night of Mid-Autumn he composed two songs to the tune Hesheng chao. The first:

Broken clouds go home to their peaks,
long sky congeals in kingfisher green,
the jewelled mirror is newly round.
Great bright splendour reaches across the flowing sands,
and on beyond, to the Western Heaven.
In the human world everywhere,
dream-souls sink drunken,
song and dance at flowered banquets.
The Daoist's gate, a different kind of purity,
secretly opens the heart-field.

The second:

Deep in the grotto-heaven,
good friends gather in high assembly —
unbound inspiration without limit.
Up to the cinnabar empyrean,
flying to the Palace of Broad Cold,
silently casting down golden coins.
The numinous void glows bright;
the sleep-demon scatters away;
the jade hare is beautiful.
Seated forgetting the mechanism,
we see through to the original true;
let the realm of dharmas turn as it will.

After this the weather grew cool and pure; on a still night, quiet at ease, he composed two more quatrains:

The Long River glimmers, the night is deep;
at the cold lonely window, a myriad thoughts sink.
The right and wrong of the world do not reach here —
one expanse of a Daoist's mind at ease.

Deep, deep is the pure night, the moon climbs high;
mountain and river, earth below — not a hair.
Only the pervading nature of Dao and Virtue remains,
making ten thousand rounds through the three heavens above.

The Chaoyuan Abbey lay at the northwest corner of the prefecture. Its patron, Marshal Yila, because the master was about to go north, had built a hall and shrine, enshrined the sacred images, and renewed the cloud-rooms and grotto-chambers before and behind. In the tenth month they were painting the wall of the Patriarchal Hall; the painter, because of the cold, wished to stop. The master did not permit it, saying: "Zou's pitch-pipes even brought back spring; how much more shall the sages secretly lend aid?" That month, indeed, the weather turned mild as spring, with no wind or sand at all, so the painter finished his work. He wrote:

Late autumn on the northern frontier is bitterly cold;
stones roll, sand flies, the great wind shakes.
Traveller-geese droop their wings, fleeing south in haste;
traveller-hearts weary, their northern campaign exhausted.
I came in the tenth month, yet the frost is thin;
men marvel that through a thousand hills the waters still flow.
If not for Little Spring's mild air,
Heaven would not have let us finish the painted hall.

Soon Alixian came from the tent of Prince Ochin (Otchigin, the brother of Chinggis), sending an envoy to invite the master. Then the pacifier Wang Jichuan also arrived and said: "I have received the prince's command: 'If the master goes west, let him pass by my place.'" The master nodded. In that month he travelled north to Wangshan. When Gela returned with the answering memorial, the edict ran: "The emperor Chinggis commands the Perfected Master Qiu" — and again: "For the master's Way surpasses the three (Laozi, Confucius, Buddha?), his virtue is weighty among many." It closed: "Since the cloud-carriage has set off from Penglai, the crane-chariot may wander to Tianzhu (India). Bodhidharma came east and handed down the mind-seal of the law; Laozi went west and may have converted the barbarians and accomplished the Way. Though the road is long, I see the staff and seat as near. I reply to your letter to make my meaning plain. In the autumn heat, is the master at peace and well? My finger does not reach to all I would say." Such was the honour done him. A further edict to Liu Zhonglu said: "Do not let the Perfected be hungry or weary; support him, come slowly." The master consulted with the envoy: "The country ahead is already cold; the sandy roads are long, and the Daoist company's provisions are not ready. Let us go to Longyang and set out in the spring." The envoy agreed.

On the eighteenth he went south to Longyang. His companions of the Way saw him off with many tears. The master showed them a poem:

To part alive is still endurable;
to part long after death is past bearing.
Under heaven right and wrong — the heart is not fixed;
through births and deaths of reincarnation, bitterness is hard to bear sweet.

Next day he reached the Longyang Abbey to winter.

On the fourteenth of the eleventh month he went to a feast at Longyan Temple and inscribed on the west verandah of the hall:

Stick in hand, I would visit a guest in the hills;
empty water, sunk, sunk, pale without colour.
By night flying snow has filled the crag;
today the mountain light reflects the sky, white.
Heaven is high, the sun below, the pine-wind pure;
the spirit wanders the eight directions — rising into void brightness.
I would paint the mountain-house's original face,
but the Daoist's livelihood cannot be named.

In the twelfth month he sent a poem to his companions of the Way at Yanjing:

This journey is truly not easy;
this parting's talk should be long.
North I tread Yehuling;
west I reach the land of heaven-horses.
The Yin Mountains have no sea-mirage;
the white grass has its sand-fields.
I sigh that I am no mystic sage —
how can I pass through the Great Wilderness?

And:

If in the capital there are farewell poems,
send them early, to Longyang as I pass the frontier.
Once there was a parting of shoe-sole by the bed —
now, at departure's wheels, no dream-soul's thought.

Again he sent to Yanjing:

Ten years of war — ten thousand people in sorrow;
of ten million, one or two remain.
Last year I was favoured by a gracious edict;
this spring I must brave the cold and travel.
I will not refuse three thousand li north of the ridge —
(The emperor's old ordo.)
and still I remember Shandong's two hundred prefectures.
Those straitened and beyond execution still keep a little breath;
may he soon let bodies and lives find their ease.

Northward beyond the Great Wall

On the First Full Moon of xinsi (1221) he performed the offering at Chaoyuan Abbey in Xuande, and chanted to the assembly:

A lump of rank and reeking thing brought into the world,
planted it grows the demon of the Three Realms' right and wrong.
Branch joined to branch, leaf upon leaf, its strength unbounded,
riding antiquity, vaulting the present — what can one do?

On the eighth of the second month he set out. The weather was clear; his companions saw him off in the western suburb, holding his horse's head and weeping: "The father master goes beyond ten thousand li — when shall we see his face again?" The master said: "If your heart of the Way is firm, there will be a day." They wept again: "When, in truth?" The master said: "To go or stop is not what men can do; and when you pass through a foreign land, whether the Way accords or not is not certain." They said: "Surely the master knows? Tell your disciples beforehand." Seeing they would not let him go, he said again: "In three years I return; in three years I return." On the tenth they lodged at Cuipingkou. Next day, crossing Yehuling to the north, he climbed high and looked south, viewing the Taihang ranges below: the clear haze was lovable. Turning north, only cold sand and withered grass — from here on the air of the Central Plain was cut off. The heart of the Daoist was ready for anywhere. Song Defang and others pointed to the white bones of a battlefield and said: "When I return I shall call them to the Gold Register rite." This was one among his reasons for the northern journey.

Passing north through Fuzhou, on the fifteenth he went northeast past the Gaili Marsh, all mounds and salty earth. Here he first saw some twenty households. To the south was a salt lake stretching northeastward. From here there was no river; they mostly dug sand-wells to draw water. For several thousand li north and south there was also no great mountain. After five days' riding they left the Mingchang frontier. A poem records the reality:

Wandering, folded, the road bends and turns;
everywhere salt-flats, dead bends of water.
All day meeting no traveller;
a whole year sometimes a horse turning back.
The land grows no trees, only wild grass;
heaven births mounds but no great peak.
The five grains do not come; they live on milk and cheese;
leather furs and felt tents also smile.

After another six or seven days they came suddenly into a great sandy plateau. The dunes bore stunted elms, some broad enough to fill the arms. Riding northeast a thousand li and beyond, in the places free of sand there was not a tree.

On the first of the third month they came out of the sandy plateau to Yuerluo (Fish Marsh), and here first saw inhabited settlements, most of whom ploughed and fished. It was the Qingming season; spring seemed remote; the ice had not melted. He wrote:

The northern lands' bitter cold has been famed from of old;
in March the sand-plateau is yet frozen.
Further I seek Ruoshi to become a yellow swan;
I wish to know the great Kun transformed into the giant Peng.
Su Wu shifted north, grief nearly killed him;
Li Ling looked south — there was no way back.
I now go back and learn Lu'ao's resolve:
view the six harmonies to the end — this is the highest vehicle.

On the fifth of the third month they started northeastward. On every side, though far off, there were people — black carts, white tents, pasturing as water and grass allowed. In all that country of plain and bottom, there was no inch of wood. To every quarter only yellow cloud and white grass. They kept the road, and after more than twenty days first saw a sandy river, flowing northwest into the Kerülen. The water wet the horses' bellies; beside it grew thickets of willow. They crossed and went three days north, entering a smaller sandy plateau.

The camp of Prince Ochin

On the first of the fourth month they came to the tent of Prince Ochin. Ice was just melting, grass faintly springing. There happened to be a wedding; chieftains within five hundred li had all brought mare's milk to assist, and hundreds of black carts and felt tents stood in ranks. On the seventh he saw the prince, who asked about the matter of prolonging life. The master said this could be heard only after fasting and observing the precepts, and agreed to expound it at the full moon. On that day a great snow fell, and the matter was dropped. The prince then said: "The emperor sends an envoy across ten thousand li to invite the master and ask of the Way; how dare I presume to hear first?" He instructed Alixian to escort the master past this place on the return journey. On the seventeenth the prince sent a hundred horses and oxen and ten carriages with them. Heading northwest, on the twenty-second they reached the Kerülen; its accumulated waters make a sea of several hundred li round. Wind and waves flung out great fish; the Mongols each took a few. Going west along the river's south bank, they sometimes ate wild garlic.

At noon on the first of the fifth month the sun was eclipsed total — the stars then visible — and soon regained its brightness. They were on the south bank of the river. (The eclipse began in the southwest, cleared in the northeast.) The land was cool in the morning and hot in the evening; grasses many-yellow-flowered; the river flowing northeast. On both banks were many tall willows, which the Mongols cut to make tent-frames. After sixteen days' travel, the river swung round the northwestern mountains and they could not reach its source. On the southwest it joined the post-road to Yuerluo. The Mongols rejoiced: "Last year we heard the father master was coming." They presented one shi and five dou of millet; the master returned with one dou of dates. They were delighted: "We have never seen such a thing," and departed dancing in thanks. After another ten days, at summer solstice, the sun's shadow measured three chi six or seven cun. Gradually great mountains appeared, steep and uplifted; from here on westward there were hills and people were more numerous — all making their home in black carts and white tents. Their custom is pasture and hunting; they dress in leather and wool, feed on meat and milk. The men plait their hair and let it hang at the ears. The women wear a birch-bark headdress over two chi high, often covered with black coarse cloth, in the rich with red silk, its tip like a goose or duck. It is called gugu, and it is forbidden for anyone to touch it — going in and out of the tent they must bend low. They have no writing; they bind themselves by words spoken, or cut notches in wood as tallies. When they eat they share together; in trouble they vie in helping; if they have an order they do not refuse; if they have spoken they do not change. There is something of the manner of high antiquity. He recorded the truth in verse:

To the limit of the eye, mountain and stream have no end;
wind and mist unbroken, waters long-flowing.
Why did the Maker open heaven and earth,
that men should come this far to loose their horses and cattle?
They drink blood and eat hair as in highest antiquity;
lofty caps and braided hair, unlike the Central Plains.
Sages and worthies have not left them civil letters;
through the ages, going this way and that, they are only free.

After four more stages, they crossed a river to the northwest and came to open country; the surrounding mountains and streams were beautiful, water and grass rich and fair. East and west were ruins of old cities, foundations as if new; streets and lanes still recognizable; the construction resembled that of the Central Plains. No inscriptions to confirm the years; some said the Khitan had built them. Later in the earth were found old tiles with Khitan characters, so these were cities built by the officers and men of Liao who would not submit and went west. It was further said: "Southwest, ten thousand li away, stands Samarkand, the fairest city of the Uighur country, where the Khitan (Qara Khitai) had their capital, ruled by seven sovereigns."

On the thirteenth of the sixth month they lodged behind the Long Pine Range. The pines were dense, piercing the clouds and blocking the sun, mostly on the shady north side of the hills; the sunny side had very few. On the fourteenth they crossed the ridge and a shallow river; the cold was extreme, not to be borne even by the strong. They lodged on level ground that night. On the fifteenth at dawn, the tents all had thin ice around them. On the seventeenth they lodged west of the ridge. It was the first fu (summer heat-period), but there was rime morning and evening, three times fallen; the river had floating ice, cold as deep winter. The natives said: "In ordinary years there is snow in the fifth and sixth months; this year we are favoured with clear warmth." The master renamed it "Great Cold Range." Whenever rain came it often fell as hail. Mountain paths coiled. Over a hundred li to the northwest, then again northwest, they emerged on level ground, where a stone river ran more than fifty li; its bank dropped ten zhang deep; its water was clear and cold and lovable, sounding like jade. Between the cliffs grew great leek three or four chi tall; over the brook grew pines ten-odd zhang tall. The western mountains linked on and on, topped with tall pines massed black-green. After five or six days' travel in the hills, the peaks turned and the road wound, forests and crags elegant and rich, a stream running below. On the level ground there were mixed pine and birch, as if there were men's dwellings. Climbing a high ridge — its shape like a long rainbow, sheer a thousand ren — they looked down into a "sea" (lake), deep enough to frighten.

At the ordo of the empress

On the twenty-eighth they halted east of the ordo. The envoy went ahead to report to the empress; she sent word requesting the master to cross the river. The water flowed northeast, brimming and overrunning the axle-height; cutting across the current they crossed. Entering the camp they halted their carts on the south bank. There were carts and tents by the hundred and thousand; daily they were provisioned with butter and milk. The princesses of the Han and Tangut, too, sent food — dry-provisions — at ten liang of silver to a dou of rice (at fifty liang one could buy eighty jin of flour, for flour comes from beyond the Yin Mountains over two thousand li, brought on camels by traders of the Western Regions, the Hu of the bazaars). At midsummer there were no flies in the tent. Ordo is the Han word for "moving palace" — its carts, carriages, pavilions and tents, seen together, are stately; the great shanyu of old never had such magnificence.

West over the Altai

On the ninth of the seventh month, with the envoy, they went southwest for five or six days, often seeing snow on the mountains and tombs at their feet; climbing a high knoll, they again saw traces of spirit-worship. After another two or three days they crossed a mountain whose high peak was as though shaved, dense with pine and fir and with a lake. Out of a great gorge to the south flowed a stream westward, various trees clustered on its north bank; wild leek throve like fragrant grass, lining the road continuously for tens of li. To the north was the ruined city called Qalashao; southwest after about twenty li of sandy ground, with little water or grass, they first saw Uighurs diverting channels to irrigate wheat. Five or six days further, they crossed a ridge to the south and came to a Mongol camp, lodging in felt houses. At dawn they went on, winding along the South Mountains; looking at them they saw snow. A poem recorded the journey:

In those days Siddhartha awoke to the clear sky;
starting from our wheels we first came to Yanzi city.
(This is Fuzhou.)
North to the great river — three months' count;
(This is the Kerülen; arriving at the end of the fourth month, about two thousand li plus.)
west to the piled snow — half a year's journey.
(This is this place; snow always on the mountains. East to the Kerülen is about five thousand li; arriving at the end of the seventh month.)
Unable, by the method of Circling-Wind Hiding-Earth, to sit still —
(The Daoist arts include Circling-Wind Hiding-Earth and Climbing-Dipper Storing-Heaven.)
I must pursue the sun across the ten-thousand sky.
Journeying to where mountain and water are ended,
the slanting sun, as ever, leans westward.

A man of the country said: "North of this snow-mountain is Tian Zhenhai Balahasun." Balahasun is Chinese "city." Within is a storehouse of grain, so they also call it Cangtou (Granary-Head).

On the twenty-fifth of the seventh month a string of Han artisans came to meet him, all shouting for joy and making obeisance, preceded by coloured banners, flowered canopies, incense and flowers. There were also the two ladies of the Jin emperor Zhangzong, surnamed Tudan and Jiagu, and the Han princess's mother, Lady Qinsheng, surnamed Yuan, who came out weeping to meet him. She said to the master: "Long ago I heard of your lofty virtue and was sorry never to see you; I did not think that in this land there would be such a bond." Next day Zhenhai came from north of Abuhan mountain to pay his respects. The master said to him: "I am already advanced in years, but the emperor's two urgent edicts have compelled me to travel several thousand li to come here. Most of the desert country does not cultivate; I am glad to see here that the autumn crop is ripe. I would like to winter here and wait for the imperial carriage to return — how is that?" The envoy said: "Since the father master has a decree, Zhonglu dare not say yes or no; let the lord Zhenhai decide." The lord said: "There is a recent decree to all officials, that if they meet the Perfected passing through, they are not to delay him on his way; the emperor wishes to see him quickly. If the father master stayed here, the fault would be mine. I beg to accompany in person. Whatever the master needs, I dare not fail to provide." The master said: "Since the affinity is so, let us fix a day and start." The lord said: "Ahead are great mountains high and steep and wide swamps; the ground will not take carts. It is well to reduce the carriages, go lightly on horseback." They accepted this counsel, left behind at this place disciple Song Daoan and eight others, chose ground for an abbey — uncalled, people came; the strong lent their strength, the skilled their skill, the rich their wealth. Sage Hall and abbot's quarters, eastern kitchen and western wing, cloud-rooms to left and right (no tiles; all earth and timber) — in under a month it was finished, and they hung the tablet Qixia Abbey. Millet was standing in the fields; at the beginning of the eighth month frost fell, and the inhabitants hurried to harvest the wheat on account of the frost. A great wind came from the west along the northern hills; yellow sand covered the sky, so that objects could not be distinguished. The master sighed in verse:

I am a man of east and west, south and north;
ever have I missed the Way and walked in the wind and dust.
Unbearable, white hair drooping with age,
and again I tread yellow sand on long patrol.
While I am not yet dead I can view the world;
remnant life has no share in celestial joy.
Four mountains, five marchmounts, I have wandered many;
the eight bounds — after soaring, I enter the divine.

On the eighth, taking Master Zhao Jiugu the "Void-Still elder" and a dozen others, with two carts, some twenty Mongol post-horses, and accompanied by Envoy Liu and the lord Zhenhai with a hundred horsemen more, he travelled west along the great mountains. Li Jianu, one of Zhenhai's followers, said: "Formerly on this mountain a spirit shaved off the hair at the back of my head; I was greatly afraid." Zhenhai also said: "The king of the Naiman was once bewitched by the mountain-spirit here and fed on fine food." The master kept silent and did not answer.

Travelling southwest about three days, they turned southeast again, past great mountains and through great gorges. At Mid-Autumn they arrived at the northeast corner of the Altai, paused briefly, then headed south. The mountains are high and great, deep valleys and long slopes impassable to carts. Only when the Third Prince (Ögödei) led his army was the road first opened. He ordered a hundred horsemen to haul the shafts up by ropes and to bind the wheels on the way down. After about four stages, crossing three ranges in succession, they came out south at the foot and halted by a river. The officers linked tents for a camp, and, water and grass being convenient, waited for post-oxen and relay horses; they did not start for several days. Three quatrains:

In the eighth month a cool wind, the air clear —
how can I endure the dusk in the clear azure sky?
I would sing the splendour but lack the talent;
empty, I face the Altai's bright moon.

On Altai's south side the great river flows;
the river bends coil round, a pale autumn beauty.
Autumn water, evening sky, the mountain moon rising;
alone I intone the night-shining orb.

The Altai, though great, is not solitary and high;
on every side long-trailing skirts hold firm.
Across the mountain's belly the trees stand —
piercing the clouds, shutting the sun, striving to cry out.

Crossing the river southward, they passed a small mountain of stones in five colours, beside which neither grass nor tree grew, from head to tail seventy li. Further, two red mountains stood across the road; thirty li more, in salty ground, was a small sand-well, where they halted to fetch water. Beside it was green grass, much trodden by sheep and horses. The envoy and Zhenhai took counsel: "This is the hardest place to cross. What do you say, my lord?" The lord said: "I have known this place long." Together they consulted the master: "Ahead lies Baigudian (White-Bone Plain), all black stones; one travels some two hundred li to the northern edge of the dunes, where there is some water and grass. Then another hundred li through great dunes — east to west, how many thousand li none knows — until the Uighur city, where water and grass can again be had." The master asked: "Why is it called White-Bone Plain?" The lord said: "It is an old battlefield: when weary troops reach it, of ten not one returns — a place of death. Recently the Naiman were broken here in great force. On clear days, travelling by day, men and horses often perish. Only starting at dusk and crossing by night can one pass half the way. At noon next day you find water and grass; rest a while, start at late afternoon, cross sandy dunes in hundreds, like a boat among great waves. The morning after, between chen and si, you reach that city. Night travel is good; only, the sky being dark, goblins and demons work mischief; we shall smear blood on the horse's forehead to avert them." The master laughed: "Foul sprites and evil demons flee a righteous man from afar — this is in the books; who does not know it? The Daoist's house has nothing to fear from this." At sunset they set out. The oxen were exhausted, and they abandoned them on the road, yoking six horses; from then on they used no oxen.

At first, north of the dunes, looking south to the horizon, there was something like silver mist. He asked left and right; none knew. The master said: "That must be the Yin Mountains." Next day, crossing the dunes, they met woodcutters and asked again. All said "yes." He wrote on the way:

Tall as cloud-vapour, white as sand,
seen from far — who knew it was not a trick of the eye?
Gradually one sees on the summits piled jade-chips,
and in the distance the sun's feet shooting silver mist.
Across the sky, one line a thousand li long,
illuminating the earth, joining walls and ten thousand homes.
From of old to now it stands undecayed;
I write this poem to boast of it to those due south.

On the twenty-seventh of the eighth month, past the north side of the Yin Mountains (Tian Shan), Uighurs met them in the suburbs. North of a small city, the chieftains set out grape wine and famous fruit, great cakes and round onion, and tore off a chi of Persian cloth per man, saying: "This is Khocho (Gaochang), three hundred li south of the Yin Mountains. The climate is very hot; grapes very abundant." Next day they followed the stream westward and passed two small cities, both inhabited. The grain and wheat were just ripening, all through the aid of spring-water brought in channels — rain being rare. West of this was the great city of Beshbaliq. Hundreds of officers and gentlemen, monks and Daoists came in procession to meet him. The monks all wore red robes; the Daoists' robes and caps were notably different from those of China. He lodged in the upper storey of a vineyard west of the city. The Uighur prince's kindred offered grape wine, strange flowers and mixed fruits and famous incense; dwarf entertainers and musicians were lined out — all were men of the Central Plains. Day by day the gentry grew more reverent; among his seated companions were monks, Daoists, and Confucians. They spoke of local customs, saying: "In Tang times this was the Beiting Duanfu. In the third year of Jinglong, Yang Gonghe was Grand Protector; he governed well, and the various tribes submitted in heart; his grace reached later generations, which still relied on it. Two stone inscriptions stand, at Longxing and at Xi Si (West Temple), their merit-narratives splendid to view. In the temple is a Buddhist scripture-tripitaka. The Tang frontier cities often still stand. Several hundred li east is a prefecture called Xiliang; three hundred li west, a county called Luntai." The master asked: "How many stages more to the imperial camp?" All said: "Southwest, more than ten thousand li." That night wind and rain came; outside the garden a great tree stood, and he showed the assembly another piece:

Lodging at night below the Yin Mountains;
the Yin Mountains at night are still and lonely.
The long sky — dark, dark clouds;
the great trees — leaves rustle and fall.
Ten thousand li of road is far;
three winters — the climate yet kind.
I set down my whole body,
and let myself drift like the broken tumbleweed.

Through the Western Regions

On the second of the ninth month they went west. On the fourth they lodged east of Luntai; the Tieh-hsieh (?Tekish) chief came to meet them. Looking south at the Yin Mountains, three peaks pierced the heavens. He composed a poem and gave it to the student Li Boxiang, a physiognomist:

Three peaks rise together, pierce the cold cloud;
four walls lie across, ring about the gorges.
Snow-ridge bordering heaven — men cannot reach it;
ice-pools flashing in the sun — the vulgar cannot see.
(Men say that looking at the ice-pools between the peaks, one's soul grows dazed.)
The deep crags can shelter from the sword-harm of troops —
(Their crags are steep and secure; in times of trouble, hold fast, one can escape calamity.)
the many waters can feed the sowing to fruit.
(Below are spring-sources that can irrigate grain, so there is an autumn harvest every year.)
A famous town of the north, foremost of all —
yet none has painted it for men to see.

Again they passed two cities. On the ninth day of the ninth month they came to the Uighur city of Changbala. Its prince, Idut (Weiwuer), being an old friend of Zhenhai, led his men and the Uighur monks to meet them far off. Entering, they were feasted on a platform. The prince's wife urged grape wine, and offered watermelons so heavy they needed to be weighed, and sweet melons like pillows — the fragrance and flavour were such as China has not. The garden vegetables were as in the Central Plains. A monk came to sit by him, and through a translator the master asked what scriptures he read. The monk said: "Tonsure, receive the precepts, worship the Buddha as teacher." For this region had once belonged to Tang, therefore to the west were no monks or Daoists; the Uighurs only face westward to worship.

Next day they went west along the Yin Mountains for about ten stages. They crossed more sand-plains, of fine sand which in the wind flowed like startled waves — now heaping up, now scattering — with not a blade of grass growing. Carts sank and horses laboured; only after a day and a night did they emerge. This was a branch of the great sand of White-Bone Plain, south reaching the foot of the Yin Mountains. Past the sand, after five more days, they lodged north of the Yin Mountains. Next morning, going south, a long slope seventy or eighty li — they lodged at dusk. It was very cold, and there was no water. Rising at dawn, going southwest about thirty li, suddenly there was a great lake, near two hundred li round; snow-peaks ringed it, their images inverted in the lake. The master named it Tianchi (Heaven-Pool). Following it on the south, they descended; on left and right peaks rose sheer, pines and birches shaded dark, a hundred chi and more tall — from top to foot, who knows how many tens of thousands of stems! Various streams entered a gorge, rushing and tumbling, winding this way and that for about sixty or seventy li. When the Second Prince (Chagatai) followed the western expedition, he first cut stone to level the road, hewed wood for forty-eight bridges, each wide enough for carts to pass side by side. At dusk they camped in the gorge, and next day came out into an east-west plain, water and grass rich and fair; the air was like spring; there was a little mulberry and jujube.

The next stage: on the twenty-seventh of the ninth month they came to Almaliq. The Fusulman (Muslim) prince, together with the Mongol Talaghu, led the tribal peoples to meet him. They lodged in the western orchard. The natives call fruit almali: fruit being very plentiful there, they so named the city. The land yields a cloth called tuluma, which is what is commonly called "sheep-wool-woven cloth" (cotton). They got seven bolts as cold-weather clothing: its wool is like that of China. The willow-flowers are fresh and clean, fine and soft, can be made into thread or rope, cloth or wadding. Farmers also lead channels to irrigate; the natives draw water with pots, bearing them home on the head. Seeing the Central Plains' water-lifting device, they said with delight: "The Taohuashi folk are skilful in all things." Taohuashi means "Han people." From the Altai to here, the master recorded the journey in verse:

Altai on the east, Yin Mountains on the west;
a thousand crags, ten thousand gullies, clustered about deep streams.
By the stream tangled rocks lie across the road:
ancient and modern, not passable to wheel or hoof.
Two years since the armies came — the Second Prince
cut the road, built bridges, pierced the streams.
(The Third Prince built the Altai road, the Second Prince the Yin Mountains.)
Now, this year, my Way wishes to go west —
carts and horses busy, passing through again.
Silver mountains, iron walls, a thousand myriad layers;
head and horn, competing, claim clarity and power.
At sunrise looking down, the blue sea is near;
at bright moon climbing up, the Heavenly River opens.
Touching sky the pines are straight as brush-handles,
dense, dense, moving to a hundred chi plus.
Ten thousand stems lean together, black-green;
not a bird sings, void and lonely.
The Sheep's-Gut, the Menmen, crushing the Taihang —
by this, that is common by comparison.
Paired carts climb and fall, bitterly jolted;
a hundred horsemen before and behind, many alarmed.
Heaven-Pool sea lies on the mountain's crown;
a hundred li of mirror-emptiness, containing a myriad shapes.
Hanging carts, trussed horses, west down the mountain;
forty-eight bridges, each lowered ten thousand zhang.
South of the Yellow River, north of the sea — mountains without end —
a thousand changes, ten thousand shapes — the plan the same.
None is so marvellous as this mountain,
splendid and sharp, with godlike skill.
When I came, it was the eighth or ninth month;
half up the mountain all was snow.
At the foot, grass and trees warm as spring;
beyond, robes and bedding cold as iron.

The provision these days was better than before. Going west four more days, they came to the Talas No-lien — no-lien is "river" — wide and deep. It flowed to the northwest, coming from the east. Cutting the Yin Mountains, its south side was again snow-mountains.

Across the Talas to Samarkand

On the second of the tenth month they crossed by boat, descended south to a great mountain, and north there was a small city. Going west five days further, the envoy, because the master was come by imperial summons and the camp was near, went ahead to report; only the lord Zhenhai stayed with the master as they travelled west. On the seventh they crossed a southwest mountain and met the envoy to Eastern Xia returning; he made obeisance before the tent. Asked when he had left, he said: "I left the imperial court on the twelfth of the seventh month. The emperor led his troops pursuing Sultan (Khwarezmshah) to India. Next day, meeting a great snow, they reached a Uighur city, the snow a chi deep, but when the sun came out it melted. On the sixteenth they reached a southwestern plank bridge and crossed a river. At evening they reached the foot of the South Mountain, which is Dashi Linya (Qara Khitai, so called after the Khitan scholar's style-name) — the kingdom's ruler descended from the Liao. When the Jin broke Liao, Dashi Linya led several thousand and fled northwest, wandering for over ten years; at length he reached this land. The customs and climate are different from those north of the Altai: much level ground, farming and silk their business. Grapes they brew to wine; fruits are the same as in China; only during summer and autumn there is no rain, so they divert rivers to irrigate, and the hundred grains come to fruit. Northeast to southwest, with mountains and streams on either hand, the land stretches ten thousand li; it has kept the realm for almost a hundred years. When the Naiman lost their land they relied on Dashi; their men and horses again grew strong, and they usurped the territory. Next the Sultan subdued it from the west; when the Heavenly Troops came, the Naiman were finished, and the Sultan was destroyed." Hearing that the road ahead was much obstructed, and a cart having broken down, he left it. On the eighteenth, along the mountains westward. After seven or eight days, the mountains suddenly went southward; a stone city lay in the way, its stones all red, with traces of an old garrison. To the west were great tombs, ranged like the Dipper. Crossing a stone bridge they went five stages west-south along the mountains, and reached Sayiram (Sailan) city, with a little stupa. The Uighur prince came to meet them and lodged them at a hostel.

At the beginning of the eleventh month great rains fell for several days. In the fourth month the natives celebrate the New Year, crossing paths to congratulate one another. On this day Elder Zhao Jiugu the Void-Still said to Master Yin: "When I followed the master at Xuande, I felt a sign of long journey; I have grown weary of travel. But the master has taught: 'The Daoist does not let his heart be moved by life or death, nor troubled by suffering or joy; wherever he goes, nothing is unacceptable.' Now my time to go home approaches; you, sir, serve the father master well." A few days later he fell ill and died — the fifth of the eleventh month. The master bade his disciples bury Jiugu on the plain east of the wall, and they set out. Three more days southwest brought them to a city whose king was also a Uighur, now old; he performed the ceremony of welcome and parting, and gave them noodle-cakes. Next day they passed another city. Travelling two more days, a river — this is the Huochan No-lien (Syr Darya). They crossed by a floating bridge and camped on the west bank. The officer of the bridge presented fish to the lord Tian: big-mouthed and scaleless. The river's source is in two great snow-mountains to the southeast; its waters are turbid and swift, several zhang deep, flowing northwest — how many thousand li, none knows. Southwest of the river is two hundred li with no water or grass, so they travelled by night, south still, looking toward great snow-mountains and going west; the mountain-shape is the head and tail of the south-mountain of Samarkand. Another poem:

The Maker of things is marvellous, past naming;
east and west arrayed, formed by heaven.
South, the jade-peaks — linked, steep — lie across;
north, gold sand presses down, the plain level.
Below — pillowed on springs, inexhaustibly moist;
above — opening to the Milky Way, pure beyond measure.
I have travelled ten thousand li too weary to open my mouth;
reaching here, wild song cannot contain the feeling.

They came to another city where water and grass could be had. Passing yet another city, the Uighur chieftains came out far to meet him; they dined south of the city. Grape wine was set out, and small boys performed pole-climbing and sword-juggling. After two more cities, half a day in the mountains, they entered an open plain north and south, and lodged under a great mulberry-tree that could shade a hundred men. At the next city a well stood beside the road, more than a hundred chi deep. An old Uighur drove an ox hauling a windlass, drawing water for the thirsty. When the emperor went west he saw and marvelled; by edict he exempted the man from taxes and levies.

On the eighteenth of mid-winter they crossed a great river and arrived at the great city of Samarkand. North of it the Grand Preceptor Yila Guogong and the Mongol and Uighur chiefs came bearing wine to meet him in the suburbs, pitching a great pavilion; there they halted. The Envoy Liu, detained by roads being blocked, spoke before the master, saying: "I learn that a thousand li beyond is a great river crossed by a floating bridge, which bandits have broken; besides, deep winter is at hand; the father master had better have audience in the next spring." The master agreed. Soon they entered by the northeast gate. The city is built along a canal-bank; summer and autumn have no rain, so the people have led in two rivers, winding through the quarters, each house using them. Before the Sultan's fall, the city had some hundred thousand households. Since the state was broken, a quarter remain. Most are Uighurs, who cannot manage their own farms and gardens, but must attach themselves to Han, Khitan, and Hexi (Tangut) people. The officers too are from various peoples; Han artisans are mixed among the city. A hillock more than ten zhang high held the Sultan's new palace; the Grand Preceptor had dwelt there, but as the Uighurs were in difficulty with food and robbers frequent, fearing trouble he had moved north of the water. So the master lodged at the palace and sighed: "The Daoist goes as fate carries him, to pass his years and months. Even with naked swords above his head, he does not fear. How much less when the robbers have not come yet, to worry ahead of time? And good and ill, two roads, do not harm each other." His followers were at ease. The Grand Preceptor held a fast, offered ten pieces of gold brocade; the master declined. They henceforth supplied him monthly with rice, flour, salt, oil, fruit and vegetables, daily with more respect. Seeing the master drank little, he asked to use a hundred jin of grapes for new wine. The master said: "Why must it be wine? Only procure that quantity; it will suffice for guests." These grapes kept through the winter unspoiled. He also saw peacocks and great elephants — both from India, several thousand li to the southeast. Having leisure he brought forth a poem:

From the second month I travelled to the tenth,
west I came to the great walls of the Uighur city.
The pagoda so tall I cannot see its thirteen storeys
(Built of brick carved openwork: outside no visible storeys; inside you can walk up.)
The mountains so thick I have passed ten thousand layers.
Autumn days in the outskirts — still they loose elephants;
summer clouds without rain do not follow the dragon.
Fine vegetables, wheat-meal, grape wine —
fed full I sleep in peace, nurturing my native ease.

The master having taken up winter quarters, the envoy and the lord Zhenhai sent Gela and a party of ambassadors with several hundred armed troops to scout ahead on the road. Han people came often to take refuge with them. An astronomer (suanli) being by, the master asked about the solar eclipse of the first of the fifth month. The man said: "Here at the hour of chen there was a six-tenths eclipse." The master said: "When we were on the Kerülen, we saw it at noon. Again southwest at the Altai, it was said at the hour of si it was seven-tenths. In these three places the appearance differed. Kong Yingda's commentary on the Chunqiu says, 'When the body (moon) covers the sun, there is eclipse.' Judging from this now, whoever stands beneath it sees eclipse. From the side, every thousand li the appearance differs. As when one shades a lamp with a fan, where the fan's shadow falls there is no light, and beside, as you move away, the lamp's light increases."

One day the master went into the old palace and wrote on the wall two pieces to the tune Fengqi Wutong:

A single point of numinous brightness, secretly opening awakening;
above heaven, below earth, no trace is seen of its comings and goings.
In the four seas and eight wildernesses only it walks alone;
neither empty nor existent — who can behold it?
Blinking the eyes, raising the brows — the whole body is revealed,
hazy and vast;
the realm of dharmas it transcends in going.
Through ten thousand kalpas of revolving, we meet it once;
the Nine Mysteries together climb the path of the Three Pure.

Sun and moon wheel on without fixed stop;
spring gone, autumn come — how many flourishings and witherings!
Five Emperors, Three Sovereigns, a thousand hundred sacrifices;
one arising, one falling — ever thus.
Dying we are born, born we die again;
the wheel of change — when does it cease?
If you do not reach the no-mind resting-ground,
you cannot in purity transcend.

Two poems also, first:

From East Sea to Western Qin, for decades,
I meditated on Dao and Virtue, fathomed the double mystery.
A single meal at noon — what need of surfeit?
At midnight's third watch, forcing myself not to sleep.
My real footprint has not yet risen to the empyrean;
my empty name is idly spread through northern lands.
You make a great nation even transmit its bright decree,
to send me through ten thousand li of sand to the farthest frontier.

Second:

At twenty I sought the true beside the waves;
in middle age I hid traces on the heights of Long.
From Henan one parting — I rose a yellow swan;
at the frontier north, again I cast my line for the giant Ao.
The Ultimate's mountains and streams — I cannot finish walking;
the mind-trace that acts becomes toil.
I know the six harmonies and the three thousand realms;
without holy powers, one cannot escape.

At the close of that year (an intercalary twelfth month), the scouts returned; with the envoy they came to the master and said: "The Second Prince has sent troops to rebuild the floating bridge, and the bandits are destroyed. Gela and others, at the camp, saw the prince, saying that the master wished to proceed to the imperial camp." And they received his reply: "The emperor is quartered southeast of the Great Snow Mountain; now the snow has piled at the mountain-gate a hundred li and more, too deep to pass. This is indeed the road. Please ask the master to come here and await opportunity; when he comes we shall send Mongol troops from that city to escort him." The master said to the envoy: "I hear that a thousand li south of the river there is no cultivation at all; my food requires rice-flour and vegetables. Report this to the prince's tent."

Samarkand in spring

In the spring of renwu (1222), in the first month, the almond (balan) first flowered, like small peach; in autumn the fruit is gathered, tasting like walnut.

On the second of the second month, the spring equinox, apricot flowers had fallen. Li Gong, judge of the Astronomical Office, and others asked the master to ramble west of the wall. The envoy and the officers went, bearing grape wine. That day the weather was clear and bright, flowers and trees fresh; everywhere were terraces, pools, pavilions, interspersed with vegetable-gardens; when they rested, they sat on grass. All enjoyed themselves; they discussed the mystery, from time to time raising the cup; only at sun-slanting did they return. A poem:

West of the Yin Mountains five thousand li;
east past Dashi twenty stages.
The rain clears, the snow-mountain far — bleak;
spring equinox at the river-prefecture — near Qingming.
(Samarkand the great city; in Dashi's time it was called Hezhongfu — "River-Prefecture.")
The garden-forest is silent, no bird-voice;
(Though flowers and trees are thick, there are no flying birds.)
the wind and sun are slow; the flowers have feeling.
Friends for a moment idle, glance to glance;
high I chant, going home to await the peace.

At the full moon — the 105th day, the Taishang Zhenyuan Festival — the officers once more asked him to ramble west of the wall. Gardens linked for a hundred li; though the Central Plains cannot surpass them, only — silent, no bird-voice. He made two pieces for his companions. First:

Mid-second month, on the 105th,
Mystic Primordial descends slowly.
Just when the moon is bright, the wind clear at night,
better still when clouds clear, rain gone.
The garden-forest lined everywhere, walking has no end;
flowers and trees light the heavens; I sit to see marvels.
Unable to quit grain and become a noble hermit,
still I take delight in "having-action" through "without-action."

Second:

Deep barbarian country, old traces still strewn across;
in the great desert with good friends I would patrol everywhere.
The terraces and pavilions of other days appear as I pass;
each year's flowers and grasses renew themselves in season.
The scenery holds the wandering guest well,
but evening sun cannot bear to send him off.
Privately I think: the world pays for a short day —
why not, beyond heaven, drink of the "Long Spring"?

The first summons to the emperor's camp

In the first days of the third month, Alixian came from the imperial camp, bringing word: "The Perfected comes from the land where the sun rises, crossing mountain and river — his toil has been great. Now I have already turned back, and wish urgently to hear the Way; do not weary of coming to me." Next he instructed Envoy Zhonglu: "You have borne the edict and summoned, and have met my heart. On another day I shall set you in a good place." And to Zhenhai: "You have escorted the Perfected with diligence; I praise you." He further decreed that the Myriad-Household Boluzhi with a thousand armed men escort him past the Iron Gate.

The master asked Alixian about the road. He replied: "On the thirteenth of the first month of spring I left from here. Three days' ride, southeast, past the Iron Gate. After five days more, we crossed a great river. On the first of the second month, southeast we crossed the Great Snow Mountain: the snow was so deep that on horseback one raised a whip to test it, and still did not reach half-way; under foot one trod five chi more. South we went two days to the imperial camp. And I have reported the master's arrival fully. His Majesty was pleased, and after several days sent me back."

The master therefore left three of his disciples — Yin Zhiping and two more — at the hostel, and with five or six attendants and the envoy, on the fifteenth of the third month set out.

On the fourth day, past Jieshi city, an edict went forward: "Let the Myriad-Household Boluzhi lead a thousand Mongol and Uighur troops to escort him." Crossing the Iron Gate, they went southeast over mountains; the hills were high and great, rocks piled thick. The troops hauled the carts; after two days they reached the foot of the near hills; going south along the stream, the army turned north into the great mountains to smash the bandits. On the fifth they came to a small river, also crossed by boat; both banks were dense with trees. On the seventh they crossed by boat a great river — this was the Amu No-lien (Amu Darya). Then southeast, at evening they came to an old irrigation-channel, its banks covered with reeds unlike those of the Central Plains. The larger reeds kept their green leaves through winter and did not wither; they took them for staves, and at night laid them under the shafts; the shafts overturned but did not break them. The smaller ones lost leaves and renewed them in spring. A little south, in the mountains, grew great solid-cored bamboo; the soldiers made spears and halberds of it. He saw also lizards, all about three chi long, their colour blue-black. This was the twenty-ninth of the third month. He wrote:

In my resolve for the Way I have not succeeded;
the demons of heaven have much feared me.
East I left the sea-coast and came;
west I look and go off toward where the sun goes down.
No sound of cock or dog;
only horses and cattle post upon post.
A thousand hills, ten thousand waters —
not knowing what place this is.

After four more days they reached the imperial camp. The emperor sent the great minister Helabode to meet him. It was the fifth of the fourth month. When his lodging had been arranged, he went to audience. The emperor expressed his care: "Other states' summons you did not answer; now you have come across ten thousand li. I greatly approve." The master replied: "That this man of the wilds obeyed the edict and came — this is Heaven." The emperor was pleased and bade him be seated. At table he asked: "Perfected, you have come from afar — what medicine of long life have you for me?" The master said: "There is a way to preserve life; there is no medicine of long life." The emperor praised his honesty, and set up two tents east of the imperial tent for him to live in. The interpreter asked: "They call the master Teng ji li Monggul-kon (the interpreter's word means 'man of Heaven'): is this how you call yourself, or do others call you so?" The master said: "This man of the wilds does not call himself so; others call me so." The interpreter came again: "What was he called formerly?" He answered: "This wild man was one of four who served the master Chongyang. The three have become immortal; only this one remains. Men call me 'Sir' (Xiansheng)." The emperor asked Zhenhai: "What should the Perfected be called?" Zhenhai said: "Some honour him with 'Shifu,' some with 'Perfected,' some with 'Shenxian' (divine immortal)." The emperor said: "From now on, let him be called Shenxian." The weather was hot; accompanying the imperial carriage he went into tents on the snow-mountain to escape the heat.

The emperor fixed the fourteenth of the fourth month to hear the Way, the outer attendants Tian Zhenhai, Liu Zhonglu, and Alixian recording, with three inner attendants also recording. As the day neared, word came that the Uighur mountain-bandits were insulting him and he wished to campaign in person. The day was moved to a lucky day of the tenth month. The master asked leave to return to his old quarters. The emperor said: "Is not coming again wearisome?" The master said: "Twenty days will do." The emperor said: "I have no one to escort you." He said: "There is the envoy Yang Agou." Three more days and he ordered Agou to lead over a thousand horsemen of Uighur chiefs to accompany him by another road. They passed a great mountain whose stone gate looked like pared wax; a giant stone lay across above it like a bridge. The torrent below was swift; riders urged their donkeys across, and a donkey drowned; corpses lay by the water. This was a pass, newly broken by soldiers. Coming out of the gorge he made two more poems:

The Iron Gate north of the water is still bearable;
the stone gorge south of the water is too frightful.
Two cliffs, sheer walls, thrust up to heaven;
a single gully of cold waves pours across the earth.
Corpses across the road — men cover their noses;
long-eared in the stream — I mourn the feeling.
Ten years, ten thousand li, shields and halberds stir;
some day or other the army returns, peace restored.

The snow-ridge piled white, propping against heaven;
morning light, bright, bright, looks down on the stream.
Looking up — sheer cliffs, men cross sidelong;
looking down — dangerous ledges, cypresses hang inverted.
Fifth month's harsh wind blows the face cold;
the three-burner heat-sickness is at once cured.
I come to expound the Way; vain my looking back —
let us settle another lucky time, wait for the Xia Yuan festival.

When the master first arrived to pay court, the third month was ending; grasses and trees were thick, sheep and horses fat. When he returned by decree, the fourth month was over; all the hundred grasses were withered. Another poem:

Outer country, deep barbarian affairs cannot be fathomed;
the breaths of yin and yang, the climate, have no rule.
Just past the fourth month, the yin demon is gone;
(In spring and winter continuous rain; in the fourth month pure yang — no rain at all.)
but then we laugh at the sky-filling drought-spirit's fury.
Filling and soaking the hundred streams belongs to the nine heats;
(They water the fields with rivers.)
smashing the myriad grasses as if in the three winters.
I have gone and come three thousand li;
(Went in the third month, came back in the fifth.)
I did not meet one traveller with rain on his face.

On the road he met men returning from the western campaign. They had got coral; one companion traded two yi (forty-eight liang) of silver for almost fifty pieces; the tallest over a chi. Having taken it on horseback, they could not keep it unbroken. The following days they travelled by cool nights; after five or six days they reached Samarkand (Dashi's River-Prefecture). The officers met the master at his lodging — that was the Double Fifth (fifth of the fifth month) day.


Book Two

Summer in Samarkand

The envoy Li went east again, and the master sent a poem to his companions of the Way in the east:

When I first set out from the sea-coast city,
over the sea shield and halberd were still not stilled.
Virtue would flourish a thousand li beyond —
I did not fear the wind and dust of the Nine Barbarians.
At first from the northwest I climbed the high ridge —
(That is Yehuling.)
gradually turning southeast I pointed to the Upper Capital.
(On the east bank of the Kerülen, one looks southeast to the Upper Capital.)
Winding, winding, straight southwest I went down —
(Southwest four thousand li to the ordo; then southwest two thousand li to the Yin Mountains.)
beyond the Yin Mountains, places I do not know the names of.
(Southwest of the Yin Mountains, one great mountain, one small stream after another, for several thousand li to Samarkand, where the master lodges in the old palace.)

The master's lodging was by a northern cliff, looking down on a clear stream ten zhang below; the water came from the snow-mountains, very cold. In midsummer's heat he lay to the north in the wind; at night he slept in the room at the head of the terrace. In the sixth month, in the great heat, he bathed in the pool. The master in this utmost frontier adapted himself so.

River-Prefecture's soil grows all the grains, only it lacks buckwheat and soybean. In the fourth month the wheat ripens; the natives harvest and pile it up, grinding when needed — the work lasts until the sixth month. Li Gong, the provisioning officer of the Grand Preceptor's yamen, presented a five-mu melon-field; the flavour was utterly sweet and fragrant, such as China has not; occasionally a melon was large as a peck. In the sixth month, when the Second Prince returned, Liu Zhonglu asked for melons and presented them — ten melons weighing a load. Fruits and vegetables are abundant; what is lacking is taro and chestnut. The eggplant-fruit is like a coarse finger, coloured purple-black. Men and women all plait the hair; the men's caps are sometimes like "far-mountain" caps, decorated with mixed colours, embroidered with cloud-motifs, and fringed with tassels. From chiefs on down, all officials wear such; common men wrap their heads in six chi of mosi (a cloth). The headwear of the noble wives is silk gauze wrapped round, black or purple, or embroidered with flowers or woven with creature-patterns, five or six chi long. Their hair hangs down, sometimes in cotton bags. Either plain or of mixed colour, or made of cloth — they do not comb into a knot, but cover with cloth, like nuns. Such is the head-ornament of common women. Their clothes sometimes of white die (cotton), sewn like a money-bag, narrow above and wide below, with sleeves attached; this is called a lining-garment, used by both sexes. Carts, boats, farm-tools — the patterns differ much from the Central Plains. The country's people use brass and copper for vessels, sometimes porcelain — like the Ding ware of China. Wine-vessels are all of glass; weapons of wrought steel. The currency is gold coins, without wheel or hole, with Uighur characters stamped on both faces. The men are mostly large and strong, able to bear heavy loads on the back, not on the shoulder. When a woman is married and her husband is poor she marries again; if he be away more than three months she is free to remarry. The strange is that some women have beards. The title Dashima (Danishmand) is given to one learned in their script, who is in charge of registers. In the last month of winter they hold a fast of one month; toward dusk the headman slaughters a sheep himself for food, sharing with those who sit with him; from night to dawn. In the other months there are six fasts. On a high house they project a great beam like a flying eave, a zhang and more long and wide, with an airy pavilion built on it, tassels dropping on four sides. Each morning and evening the headman climbs it and prays facing west — they call it "reporting to Heaven" — they do not honour Buddha or Laozi, and cry aloud chanting up there. The men and women of age, hearing it, hasten to bow below; the whole state is thus; if not, they are punished in the market. Their garments are as others' in the state, but they wrap the head in fine mosi three zhang two chi long, with a bamboo frame. The master marvelled at their customs, and wrote a poem:

In Uighur ruins, ten-thousand-li frontier,
Hezhong's great city is the strongest.
All the town's copper vessels look like gold vessels;
a whole market of soldierly garb looks like Daoists' robes.
Cut arrowheads of yellow gold for commerce;
cut and sew white cotton for clothes.
Spirit-melons and pure mulberries — no common things;
who in the red land can find them to taste?

When it was hot here, the snow-mountain was very cold, mists hanging gloomy. The master composed a quatrain:

East mountain, day and night the vapour dim;
at dawn the colour fills the sky a myriad zhang red.
The bright moon at night flies up from the sea;
golden light shoots through the azure heaven.

At his lodging visitors were few. He played at sutra-reading, and wrote another quatrain:

North out of the Yin Mountains, ten thousand li and more;
west past Dashi, half a year's residence.
Distant waste, base customs — hard to discuss the Way;
in the quiet room, secluded crags, for now I read my book.

Summoned again to the emperor

In the seventh month, in the second quarter of the moon, he sent Alixian with a memorial to the imperial camp to fix the date for the discourse on the Way. On the seventh of the eighth month he received the emperor's reply. On the eighth he set out. The Grand Preceptor escorted him many li, and the master said: "East of the Uighur city, two thousand households have newly rebelled; every night fire-light shines on the city walls; the people are uneasy. The Grand Preceptor may turn back and pacify them." The Grand Preceptor said: "What if trouble should arise on the road?" The master said: "What would that have to do with the Grand Preceptor?" So he turned back.

On the twelfth they passed Jieshi. On the thirteenth a thousand footmen and three hundred armoured cavalry escorted them into the great mountains; this was a different road from outside the Iron Gate. They crossed the Red-Water Ravine. A steep peak rose several li high. Southeast down the valley, at the mountain's root a salt spring flows; the moment the sun strikes it, it becomes white salt; they gathered two dou for use on the road. Then southeast up the divide. Looking west, a high gully like ice — it was salt. Atop the mountain was red salt like stone; he had tasted it in person. In the east only low land grows salt; here the mountains yield salt too. The Uighurs use much cake-food, and relish salt; when thirsty they drink water; in the cold of winter the poor even sell a bottle of it on their backs. On the fourteenth they came to the southwestern foot of the Iron Gate, about to come out of the hills. The mountain-gate was steep; on the left the cliff had fallen; the gully ran underground about a li. At Mid-Autumn they reached the river, its flow like the Yellow River, going northwest; they crossed by boat and lodged on the south bank. West was a mountain-fort called Tuanbala, a strong position. The Third Prince's physician Zheng met them on the way; the master gave him a poem:

From of old, mid-autumn moon is brightest;
the cool wind comes to its season, night more clear.
All the firmament's aspect sinks into the silver river;
in the four seas, fish and dragons glitter on the water-pure.
Wu and Yue terraces are full of song and piping;
Yan and Qin battalions, their wine and meat abundant.
I, going to the imperial seat, have come to the river;
I would end the shields and halberds, to bring great peace.

Going southeast up the river thirty li, there was no water; so they travelled by night. Past Banli (Balkh) city — very large — the people had newly rebelled and gone, but they still heard dogs barking. At dawn, after eating, east some tens of li there was a river flowing north, which the horses could barely cross, and they lodged on the east bank. On the twenty-second Tian Zhenhai came east to meet him; reaching the imperial camp, the emperor sent Zhenhai again to ask: "Will he see me at once? Or rest a little?" The master said: "To see is what I want." A Daoist coming from of old to see the emperor need make no kowtow; entering the tent he simply folded his hands. When he entered, after milk had been offered, he took his leave. The emperor asked: "In the city where you live, are supplies sufficient?" He said: "From the first, the Mongols and Uighurs, and the Grand Preceptor, have supplied me; lately food has grown a little hard, and only the Grand Preceptor provides." Next day the attendant Hezhu came with a decree: "Will the Perfected come daily to share my food?" The master said: "This wild man of the mountains who cultivates the Way loves only quiet places." The emperor let him do as he pleased. On the twenty-seventh the imperial carriage turned north; on the way grape wine, melons and tea were repeatedly sent.

The first discourse on the Way

On the first of the ninth month they crossed the boat-bridge going north. The master memorialised: "The day for our conversation draws near; you should summon the Grand Preceptor Ahai." On the full moon, the emperor set up the tent, fasting and reverencing, sending out his serving-women; left and right lamps and candles blazing. Only Sheli-bi Zhenhai and the envoy Liu Zhonglu stood attending outside; the master, with the Grand Preceptor Ahai and Alixian, entered the tent and sat. He memorialised: "Zhonglu has circled ten thousand li with me; Zhenhai has escorted me thousands; let them also enter and hear the discourse on the Way." So the two were called in. The master spoke; the Grand Preceptor Ahai translated into Mongolian and memorialised; it accorded well with the sovereign's heart.

On the clear night of the ninth of the tenth month he was summoned again to discourse on the Way; the emperor rejoiced greatly.

On the twenty-third, once more the master was called into the tent; the rites as at first. The emperor listened with a warm face, ordered his attendants to record the discourse, and further commanded that it be set down in Chinese characters to show he would not forget. He told those around him: "The Immortal has thrice spoken of the way of nurturing life; it has gone deep into my heart. Do not let it leak out." From that time, accompanying the imperial progress eastward, he continued to expound the Way. After several more days they came to a place thirty li southwest of Samarkand.

Winter 1222–1223

On the first of the tenth month he asked leave to go first to his old lodging; the emperor granted it. The imperial camp halted twenty li east of the city. On the sixth of that month, with the Grand Preceptor Ahai, he came to audience. The emperor said: "Will you not dismiss your attendants?" The master said: "No need." So he had the Grand Preceptor Ahai announce: "The master has studied the Way many years and ever loves still places for walking and sitting. The military hubbub before the imperial tent is taxing; if I may come sometimes before, sometimes after, at my will, that will be a great favour." The emperor agreed. When he came out, the emperor sent to ask: "Will you need felt-wool?" The master said: "No need." Just then a light rain began, and the green grass sprang up again; by the middle of mid-winter, the rain-snow gradually grew more, and the earth's veins only then opened. Ever since the master had come to this city, when he had surplus provisions he gave them to the hungry; and time after time he set up gruel, reviving many. On the twenty-sixth he set out.

On the twenty-third of the twelfth month a cold snow fell; many oxen and horses perished on the way. After three more days he crossed the Huochan No-lien (Syr Darya, great river) to the east, and reached the imperial camp; their floating bridge had broken in the middle of the night — the twenty-eighth. The emperor asked him about a thunderclap. He said: "This wild man has heard that the country's people do not bathe in the river in summer, do not wash clothes, do not make felt; when mushrooms are in the wild, they forbid gathering them — they fear the majesty of Heaven. This is not the way of honouring Heaven. I have heard: 'Of the three thousand crimes, none is greater than unfilial piety'; Heaven therefore warns by this. Now I hear that this nation's custom is often to be unfilial to parents; the emperor, using his majesty and virtue, can admonish the multitude." The emperor was pleased, saying: "The Immortal's words fall in with my heart." He had the attendants set it down in Uighur letters. The master requested that it be published to all the people. The emperor consented. Summoning princes, kings, and great ministers, the emperor said: "The Han esteem the Immortal as you esteem Heaven. I now believe all the more — he is truly a man of Heaven." And recounting the master's discourses, he added: "Heaven has caused the Immortal to say this to me for your sake; each of you, engrave it on your heart." The master withdrew. By the New Year, generals, physicians and diviners came to congratulate him. On the eleventh of the first month the horses' heads turned east; a thousand li west lay Samarkand. They halted in a great orchard. On the nineteenth it was the father master's birthday; officers burnt incense to wish him long life. On the eighteenth Provisioning Li of the Grand Preceptor's office took leave. The master said to him: "Shall we meet again?" Li said: "In the third month we shall meet." The master said: "You do not know the Heaven-principle. In the second or third month I shall surely go east." On the twenty-first they moved east one stage; they came to a great plain, northeast about three stages from Sayiram. Water and grass were rich; cattle and horses could feed fully; they lingered there.

The farewell

On the seventh of the second month the master came to audience, saying: "I left the sea-coast, covenanting to return in three years. It is now the third year; that I may go home to the hills is my wish." The emperor said: "I am now going east; is the same road all right?" He replied: "Best to go first. When I was coming, Han people asked this wild man about the date of return; I always said three years." The emperor's questions had been answered, the discourses made; therefore he firmly declined. The emperor said: "Wait a few days; the princes are coming; there are matters in the earlier Way-talk not yet clear; when I have understood, then go." On the eighth the emperor hunted below the eastern mountains. He shot a great boar; his horse stumbled and he lost the reins; the boar stood near but dared not come forward; the attendants brought another horse; he broke off the hunt and returned to the camp. The master heard of it and came forward and admonished: "The Heavenly Way loves life. Your Majesty is now of an advanced age; it is well to go hunting less. Falling from a horse is a warning from Heaven. That the boar dared not come forward was Heaven protecting you." The emperor said: "I have already deeply reflected; the Immortal's advice is right. We Mongols are little used to anything but riding and shooting; we cannot at once stop. Yet the Immortal's words are in my heart." Turning to Jisili Daragan he said: "What the Immortal admonishes me, I shall all follow hereafter." For two months he did not hunt. On the twenty-fourth he again took leave. The emperor said: "The Immortal is going; with what thing shall I send him off? I am thinking; wait a few days more." The master, knowing he could not leave at once, waited.

On the seventh of the third month he took leave again; the emperor gave him cattle, horses, and such; the master declined them all, saying: "I need only post-horses." The emperor asked Alixian the interpreter: "How many disciples has the Immortal in Han land?" He said: "Very many. When the Immortal came, at Longyang Abbey in Dexing I saw officials constantly pressing him with conscription and levies." The emperor said: "Let all of his following be exempt," and gave a document under the imperial seal, and named Alixian (a Hexi man) envoy, with Menggudai and Gela Bahai as his deputies, to escort the master east. On the tenth he took leave of the court and set out. From Daragan down, all carried grape wine and precious fruits, escorting for tens of li. At parting, all wept. In three days they came to the southeast of Sayiram. In the hills lived a two-headed snake, some two chi long; the natives often saw it. At the full moon the disciples went out to the outskirts to offer sacrifice at the grave of Elder Zhao the Void-Still. They talked of carrying his bones home; the master said: "The Four Great Elements make up the borrowed body; in the end it is a thing cast off. The single numinous true-nature is free and unbound." The discussion ceased; next day they went on. On the twenty-third the envoy Agou caught up and entertained the master south of the Chui No-lien. After ten more days, a hundred li west of Almaliq, they crossed a great river.

Homeward over the mountains

On the fifth of the fourth month they came to the east orchard of Almaliq. Master Zhang, the Second Prince's chief artisan, earnestly asked: "Your disciple's garrison has four hundred people in three altars; at dawn and dusk we bow, never slack. We have been expecting you some days. Pray, sage master, of your mercy cross the river, that the altar-crowd may receive your teaching; we should be most grateful." The master excused himself: "My southern affinity draws near; I cannot change my road." But he pressed the more; the master said: "If there is no other matter, I will go." Next day the master's mount bolted northeast, and the grooms could not hold it. Then Master Zhang and the rest wept: "We are without affinity; Heaven does not permit his going." At dusk they lodged before the Yin Mountains. The next day they crossed again the forty-eight bridges, and up along the brook for fifty li, reached the Heaven-Pool sea, and passed northeast behind the Yin Mountains; in two days they came to the original post-road by the great river south of the Altai. Again they went east-south of the Altai, and north along the mountains.

On the twenty-eighth of the fourth month great rain and snow fell; next morning the whole mountain was white; again they went northeast along the mountains. In three days they reached the front of Abuhan mountain. Disciple Song Daoan and eight others, with the congregations of Changchun and Yuhua abbeys, and envoy Guo Dequan and others, met them far off and led them into Qixia Abbey. Those taking refuge grew daily. When the master descended from the carriage, rain came down again. Men congratulated each other, saying: "In this land summers have always had little rain; thunder-rain, if any, comes between the north and south mountains. Today's soaking rain is all through the Way's shelter our master gives." The people year after year divert rivers to water their plots. Only on the eighth do the grains ripen, for they cannot wait for the rain. At the ripening of autumn, field-rats do damage; many rats are white. The land is cold, so things set fruit late. In the fifth month, the earth along the river bank is a chi and more deep; below it is solid ice a chi and more. After a fast one day, he sent a man to fetch some. Looking south to the high ridge, snow lay year-round unmelting; marvels were many. A little west by the lake is a "Wind-Tumulus," its earth white as chalk, cracked on the surface. In the second or third month the wind rises from the south-mountains — the crags first crying out as a herald. The wind comes out from among the tumulus, at first whirling like a hundred or a thousand rams'-horns; in a moment it gathers into one wind, flying sand and hurling stones, tearing off roofs, uprooting trees, its force shaking a hundred streams, resting at the southeast. Again, southeast behind the gully, there are three or four water-mills; by the time the water reaches the plain it grows thin and ends. The mountains yield coal. Further east are two springs; in the three winters they swell like a river or lake, then run underground; suddenly they burst out, fishes and shrimps with them, sometimes flooding the inhabitants. In mid-spring they gradually subside; the ground then sinks. Over a thousand li northwest is Jianjian Prefecture (Kem-Kemjiut, upper Yenisei), which yields good iron and many green squirrels, and they also raise a little wheat. Hundreds of Han artisans live there, weaving damasks and brocades. Southwest from the cloisters, Altai looms: rainy and hailish; in the fifth or sixth month sometimes great snow a zhang deep. In the northern lands there are sandy plateaus, which yield roucongrong (broomrape); the people call water wusu, grass aibusu. Deep in the Yin Mountains pines stand ten-odd zhang high. The congregation addressed the master: "This is deep barbarian country; since highest antiquity no true teaching has been heard; only mountain spirits and demons deluded the people. Since the master set up this abbey and repeatedly held the altar-feasts, at the beginnings and full moons holding meetings, many men have taken a vow against killing. If not the transformation of the Way, what else?" Formerly in renwu (1222), the Daoist company had suffered the jealousy of evil men, and were not at ease. Song Daoan was napping in the abbot's room; suddenly through the sky-window he saw Elder Zhao the Void-Still, who said: "A letter has come." Daoan asked: "From where?" "From heaven." He received it and saw only the two characters Taiqing; then it vanished. Next day the master's letter arrived, and the demon-matter gradually dissolved. A physician named Luo made false slanders; one day he fell from a horse in front of the abbey, breaking his leg; he then repented: "My fault," and confessed before the company. As the master set eastward, he wrote a Teaching Words for them:

Ten thousand li on the post-horses;
three years apart from old friends.
Shield and halberd still not at rest;
dao and virtue I chanced to expound.
Discussing breath on an autumn night,
(He had discussed nurturing life with the emperor.)
returning to the countryside in late spring.
Many think of returning without limit;
inner feeling cannot be told.

Alixian and others said to the master: "The southern road abounds in sand and stones, has scant water and grass; the envoys passing are many, and the horses suffer much — I fear we shall be held up." The master said: "Let us go in three stages, each separately; we shall have no trouble."

Down the post-road

On the seventh of the fifth month he had Song Daoan, Xia Zhicheng, Song Defang, Meng Zhiwen, He Zhijian, and Pan Dechong — six — go first. On the fourteenth the master, with Yin Zhiping, Wang Zhiming, Yu Zhike, Ju Zhiyuan, Yang Zhijing, and Qi Zhiqing — six more — set out; the seers-off were Consort Jiagu, the envoy Guo, the Myriad-Household Li, and dozens of others. They rode twenty li with him, then dismounted and bowed twice and wept. The master pressed his horse forward. On the eighteenth Zhang Zhisu, Sun Zhijian, Zheng Zhixiu, Zhang Zhiyuan, and Li Zhichang — five — followed. After sixteen days eastward the master crossed a great mountain; on the mountain there was snow, very cold; he changed horses in a felt house. On the seventeenth the master did not eat, but drank soup only. Southeast past a great sandy plain there was grass and water, many gnats and gadflies. By night they lodged east of a river. After several more days the master sometimes rode in the carriage. Yin Zhiping and the rest asked: "What sickness is this?" The master said: "My illness is not what physicians can measure. The sages are polishing me; not soon to be cured; do not be troubled." They were solemn. That night Yin dreamt of a spirit-man who said: "Do not be troubled for the master; when he reaches Han land he will heal." After three hundred more li of sandy road with little water or grass, the horses went on at night without rest; two nights out they reached the northern border of the Xia (Tangut). Tents and households grew numerous, horses easy to change; the latter travellers caught up with him.

On the twenty-first of the sixth month they lodged at Yuyangguan; the master had not yet eaten. Next day they crossed the pass and fifty li east; the marshal of Fengzhou and others came to welcome them. Envoy Yu Gong invited him to lodge at his house, serving noodle-cakes; that day he ate fully. Thereafter a fast-meal was spread; food was as before. The company said to each other: "Qinghe's (Yin Zhiping's) dream has proved true." It was late summer; in the north verandah a cool wind came in. Yu Gong asked a manuscript on cocoon-paper; the master wrote:

The body at leisure, no worldly cares,
the birds lodge until cock-crow.
One eye cannot sleep;
what does this inch-heart clutch?
Cloud gone, the stream-moon white;
breath extinct, the valley-god pure.
Not by morning and evening sitting,
but by the wringing-out of practice.

On the first of the seventh month he started again. On the third, at Xiashui, the marshal Jiagu came out of the city to meet him, lodging him in his own quarters. Those who came to pay respects were uncountable thousands. The marshal grew daily more reverent. There were three chickens and wild geese; on the Double Seventh the master rambled outside the walls and released them into the lake. In a while they played in the wind and waves, at peace. He wrote:

I reared you to ease the kitchen;
meeting me, a good thought — not stew.
A small boat sends you into the wave-fury;
let you wait till the autumn grows six feathers.

Two by two, three by three, good brothers;
your feathers not yet grown with autumn —
let loose in the deep blue sea,
vast waves to please your wild nature.

Next day they went on. On the ninth of that month they came to Yunzhong; the Mongol commissioner Abuhe with the Daoist congregation came out of town with step-palanquins to meet him, and led him to their quarter. They lived in upper rooms for over twenty days; from the commissioner down, they bowed morning and evening; the Yunzhong gentry came daily to ask for teaching. He wrote them a poem:

A decree to return home early;
in spring the Maker is much.
Three yang just transforming;
one breath naturally in balance.
Post-horses stage on stage;
cloud-mountains place on place arrayed.
Ten thousand li to the capital —
when I reach it again, what then?

Return to Xuande

On the thirteenth, envoy Alixian was to go to Shandong to persuade men to submit, and earnestly asked that the master's disciple Yin Zhiping go with him. The master said: "Heaven does not permit it; though he go, what use?" Alixian bowed twice: "If the kingdom's troops descend in force, living souls will be butchered; I beg the master one word of compassion." The master was long silent, then: "Though I save them I cannot save all — better than sitting to watch them die." So he sent Qinghe to go, giving him two letters of persuasion. Hearing that many Daoists south of Xuande were coming to pay court and that the lodges might be overwhelmed, he told Master Yin to regulate it, and gave him a manuscript:

Long travelled ten thousand li,
one journey, three years.
Many a Daoist, running loose, unfit for anything.
When Master Yin arrives, let him lay down order on every side,
lest the Sect's teaching hinder the transformation of the Way.
The blessings of sentient beings are thin, easy to be swept away;
it is hard to climb a mountain, easy to come down the slope.

The marshal Yila of Xuande sent a special messenger with a letter to Yunzhong, offering his horse. At the beginning of the eighth month they crossed the Yang River eastward, passed Baideng, Tiancheng, Huai'an, crossed the Hun River; in all twelve days they reached Xuande. The marshal came out in full honours west of the wall to greet him. The master entered and lodged at the Chaoyuan Abbey of the prefecture; his Daoist friends served him with respect. He then wrote forty characters:

Ten thousand li I have roamed the realm of the living;
three years apart from my native country.
Turning the head, the body is already old;
past the eyes, the dream — how long!
Vast, vast, Heaven empty and wide;
tangled, tangled, affairs dim.
South of the river, north of the frontier,
from of old to today, always.

The congregation said: "Last winter someone saw Elder Zhao the Void-Still leading a horse in at the gate; we went out to meet him, and suddenly he was gone. In Dexing and in Anding also he was seen." The kings, chiefs, generals and gentry of the Yellow-River-north and the prefectures fell over one another sending letters of invitation, like spokes to a hub. He answered with a few words only. A scroll said: "The royal house is not yet at peace; the Daoist gate makes its way the sooner. I liberate those who have the affinity; my reach is immeasurable. Commanders of every quarter, mind-set gone in devotion — I regret I cannot divide my body to answer your many hopes."

On the first of the tenth month he performed the rites at Longmen-chuan. At the full moon, he performed them at the Chaoyuan Abbey of that prefecture.

At the full moon of the eleventh month Song Defang and others, for the vow they had made seeing the white bones on Yehuling, together with Lord Yin Qianyi, performed the rites at the Longyang Abbey of Dexing, to deliver lonely ghosts. A few days before it had been cold; for the two nights and three days of the rites it was like spring. When the rites were done, Marshal Jia Chang came from the imperial camp with a decree: "The Immortal from spring through summer had no easy roads; have food and relay been good? At Xuande and such places, did the officials take care of your lodging? Are the people persuaded to come? I ever think of the Immortal; the Immortal forgets not me."

On the sixteenth of the twelfth month he held the rite at the three lodges of Weizhou; the master wintered at Longyang. Morning and evening he took walks on Longgang, looking down on Dexing; after war, the villages were desolate. A poem said what he felt:

In years gone by the forest-trees reached the sky as one;
now the hamlets and yards are open on every hand.
Boundless living souls under the naked sword;
how many splendid houses have turned to grey ash!
Brave men's bitter chants, a thousand ten-thousand poems;
from of old to now — how many such men?
Probing to the dust outside the thing, the leisure-in-play taste —
to shed the round of birth and death, the mire of the spring.

Return to Yanjing

In the spring of jiashen (1224), on the first of the second month, he held rites at the Qiuyang Abbey of Jinshan — the abbey on the sunny side of Mount Daohe, its mountain and water bright, pines and mists under moonlight, a Daoist's place. A poem captured it:

Behind Qiuyang Abbey the green crags are deep;
a hundred thousand mists and rose-clouds pierce the blue peak.
One path of peach-flowers rushes out with the water;
the curling stream is the heart of the grotto-heaven.

The ranges — one belt, jade-jagged;
on top a throng of immortals come day and night.
Grotto-palaces deep, where men do not reach;
from the cliff-walls the grotto-immortals' song is heard at times.

The Yanjing provincial administrator Shimo the Gold-Purple, and the Commissioner-Plenipotentiary Liu, with officers below, sent a letter begging the master to reside at the Great Tianchang Abbey. He permitted it. Soon by post he was summoned, so he crossed Juyong southward; his Yanjing companions met him at Shenyou Abbey at Nankou. At dawn, the fathers and matrons, gentlemen and ladies of all parts led him with incense and flowers into the capital; the observers filled the road. At first, when the master had set out westward, the company had asked when he would come back; the master had said: "In three years I return; in three years I return." And so it had been. On the seventh of the first month he entered Tianchang Abbey; the fasting each day counted a thousand. At the full moon the congregation asked him to come to Yuxu Abbey. On the twenty-fifth of that month Helabade came from the imperial camp with a decree: "The Immortal has reached Han land; he has transformed men with the pure Way, daily reciting scriptures to pray for my long life; very good. Let him live in any place he favours. Tell Alixian — the Immortal is of an age: attend him well; the Immortal — forget not what I once said." In mid-summer the administrator Shimo and Plenipotentiary Liu time and again offered him the Tianchang. On the twenty-second of that month he accepted their request; in the sky several cranes led the way, heading northwest. Since the master had lodged at Yuxu, or taken meals at people's houses, three or five cranes often flew crying above. From of old in the north those who served the Way had been few; now the sages wished to turn men's hearts; so they showed themselves. The crowds at the Eight Assemblies all bowed their foreheads, kneeling, in Daoist rite; customs changed. At Yuxu the well-water was formerly salt and bitter; in jiashen (1224) and yiyou (1225), many Daoists having come from the west, the taste turned sweet — also fruit of good affinity.

At the full moon of late summer, the Envoy-minister Zaba transmitted a decree: "Since the Immortal left, I have not for a day forgotten the Immortal; the Immortal forget not me. On my territory, wherever he loves to dwell, let him dwell; his disciples pray for my long life constantly — good." Since the master's return, Daoist companions of every region gathered like clouds; heresies day by day receded; the people of the capital wholeheartedly flocked to him, every door and family knowing the teaching; the four gates of the abbey opened — a hundredfold more than of old. He established eight assemblies at Tianchang, called Equality, Long-Spring, Numinous-Treasure, Long-Life, Bright-True, Peace, Calamity-Dispelling, and Ten-Thousand-Lotus. After the master had returned to Tianchang, Daoists from far seeking a fa-name came daily in greater numbers. He often showed them four gāthās. First:

The world's feeling cannot be cut off;
in the realm of dharmas there is wear and loss.
Good and bad wind round the heart's cranny;
drifting, drowning — what is to be done?

Second:

There is a thing before Heaven, noble;
the nameless does not of itself come forth.
The human heart is always hidden;
the realm of dharmas lets it range free.

Third:

Pursuing things, both eyes dazed;
toiling life, the four great elements exhausted.
The world is all borrowed;
in the heart they do not know emptiness.

Fourth:

Yesterday's thought leaves no track;
today's doings are likewise.
Better lay them all down;
pass the days empty, empty.

After each fast-meal he would wander to the old park on Qionghua, attended by six or seven; they sat at ease under pines, or he composed poems, and the others answered by turns. In the breaks, after tea, he had attendants sing several verses of "Roaming-Immortal Songs"; sun slanted on the hills, peacefully he forgot to return. Therefore the administrator and Envoy Zaba presented the North-Palace's garden-pool and several dozen qing of neighbouring land, and asked it become a Daoist hall. The master declined; at second and third asking he accepted. Then they issued edicts forbidding wood-gatherers to cut or enter; Daoists were installed, and daily the place was repaired. Afterwards a memorial went up, and the emperor approved. From then on, at every fair time, the master went and came there. On Cold-Food day he wrote two poems. First:

Ten qing of square pool amid the imperial garden;
dense pine and cypress wrap pure mist.
Terraces, pavilions — all things return to dream;
flowers and willows of the three springs belong to immortals.
Outside the isle, no purer place;
in the human world, only the Broad-Cold heaven.
Deeply I know the Maker's arrangements:
to give officials and people a field of blessings to sow.

Second:

At Qingming season the apricot flowers open;
ten thousand doors, a thousand gates — the sun comes and goes.
Beyond the isle, boundless, the spring water broad;
through the pines, fluttering, the warm breeze returns.
Travellers all sigh: the sun slants, pressing;
the adept still feels: the short day urges.
How may the Great Cinnabar quietly change the bones,
turn one's body to fly up to the Gemmate Platform?

The late years

In the fourth month of yiyou (1225), the pacifier Wang Jichuan invited the master to fast at his house. Wang was a man of the passes-west (Guanyou); they spoke of Xianyang and Zhongnan's thick bamboo and trees, and asked the master to see the bamboo in the courtyard. The master said: "These bamboos are uncommonly fine; after the war, such are not easy to find. When I lived at Panxi, the lush forests and fine bamboos were truly a wonder of the world; thinking of them is like a dream. Now I am old; the time to return approaches. Give me a few dozen stems to plant in the north verandah of Baoxuan, that I may just shade my eyes." The pacifier said: "Under heaven war has not ended; the people hang upside down; the sovereign honours the master and the Way, relying on the master's true Daoist power to protect the living souls. How do you suddenly speak thus? May you incline great compassion and take the saving of the world to heart." The master struck the ground with his staff and laughed: "Heaven's decree is already fixed; is it up to man?" The company did not understand his meaning.

At the end of the fifth month the master climbed the peak of Changle Mountain; he looked round the gardens and forests, like a spread-out kingfisher tent; travellers rested below and did not know the heat was great. He made a five-character poem:

The land borders the frontier-fort;
the wall presses down antiquity.
Though many ruined palaces,
still good gardens and forests.
Green trees cluster close;
pure breeze in waves, deep.
By day I wander the immortals' isles;
looking high, I chant to the eight bounds.

One day, returning from Qionghua Isle, Chen Xiuyu came to visit; the master showed him a seven-character regulated poem:

The grey peaks thrust up, leaning the sky alone;
kingfisher cypresses dense and shaded ring the hall.
Ten thousand qing of mists and rose-clouds — as if self-possessed;
one stretch of wind and moon — as if none at all.
Tall pines rise up from deep ravines;
strange stones, open-worked, come from Taihu.
All are the leisure-livelihood of Long Life;
cultivating truth, offering blessings, surpassing the capital.

On the first of the ninth month, because Mars transgressed the Wei constellation — the lord of Yan's territorial calamity — the pacifier Wang intended to ask the master to perform a rite; he asked how much it would cost. The master said: "To have one thing out of place I cannot bear; how much less a whole region! In recent years the people suffer conscription; state and private both exhausted. I shall supply from the abbey's permanent stores; only let the officers of the capital keep the fast and wait on the ceremony. Nothing more is required." The rite was agreed for two days and nights. The master, despite his age, himself prayed at the Mystic Altar. On the evening the rites ended, the pacifier came joyfully to congratulate: "Mars has retreated several stations; we have no worry. How swift is the master's virtuous influence!" The master said: "What virtue have I? Prayer has been from antiquity; only it is hard to be sincere. The ancients said: 'Utter sincerity moves Heaven.' This is it." On the Double Ninth, Daoists gathered from afar; some presented chrysanthemums. The master wrote a ci to the tune Henhuan chi:

A single numinous sprout, its nature distinct;
it waits for the autumn wind to pierce root and stem.
Scattered flowers open to a hundred millions;
yellow gold tender, the world pure and empty.
On the Ninth, carried in, fills the seat-corners;
seated we gaze: the field of the eye — suchness.
Like long life, eternal sight,
without withering — friends in idleness.

Next one seeking the Way brought a great scroll of cocoon-paper and asked for the master's own hand. He wrote on it to the tune Fengqi wu:

Getting your time to stop, stop — that is it;
take up ease;
let the body and mind be spared.
How many clever, splendid, stout men
busily, emptily carry off their life's resolve.
The Maker pushes and moves, without fixed stop;
yesterday's song and joy,
today already vexation comes.
Today one does not know tomorrow's matter;
trifling, labouring, how the spirit is taxed!

One day someone spoke gossip of others before him; the master was silent and did not answer. He dispersed the gossip in the Way's meaning, and also showed him a gāthā:

Dust it off, dust it off, dust clean —
in the heart not a single thing.
No-thing heart — that is the good man;
the good man — that is spirit, immortal, buddha.

The man heard it, retired ashamed.

In the first month of bingxu (1226) Panshan requested a Yellow-Register rite for three days and nights. That day the weather was clear; the hearts of men glad; the cold valley brought forth spring. On the eve of setting up the work, he showed the company:

Winding, winding, wild mountains deep;
the high mountains please the guest-heart.
The crowded peaks contest in rising;
great gullies, much still forest.
As though an immortal flew past;
and no lodging bird sings.
The Yellow-Cap Daoists hold a three-day rite;
in plain mourning ten thousand households draw near.

In the fifth month the capital suffered a great drought; farmers did not sow; men were troubled. The officials moved the market, set up an altar, prayed earnestly; for weeks on end there was no answer. The provincial office sent officers with a memorial to ask the master for a rain-prayer rite of three days and two nights. On the evening when they were calling the sages, cloud-breath gathered on four sides; in an instant rain fell. From midnight until meal-time it did not cease; the office sent officers with incense to give thanks: "The capital has long been dry; all fields about to burn; grain not sown; the people have no livelihood. By our master's Way-power moving the Upper Perfected, he has sent down sweet rain. The people all say, 'The Immortal's rain!'" The master answered: "The Minister's utter sincerity moved the Upper Saints; their compassion for the living souls — what have I to do with it?" The messenger left; then another was sent: "Rain has fallen, but after long drought it is not yet enough; if we could get a downpour, the drought would be broken; may the master's compassion." The master said: "Fear nothing; when men with utter sincerity move the Upper Perfected, the Upper Perfected must with sincerity answer the men; a great rain must come." Before the fast ended, the rain came down like the sea standing up.

That year the autumn was good; famous officers and scholars sent poems of congratulation. One day Wu Deming the Grand Minister sent four quatrains; the master replied with the same rhymes. First:

The Toad-Lord of Yan is of this very prefecture;
transcending the common, entering the holy, a companion of Dongbin.
One day the crane-chariot returns to Penglai;
ten thousand kalpas the immortal country emerges from earth-mound.

Second:

I live alone in deep mountains;
who could it be the whole world admires?
The Yellow-Emperor's Daoist has come to visit;
I cannot talk the worldly book.

Third:

Do not think the idle man as of no account;
the idle man without desire is near the immortal rank.
If not on this day one opens the heart-ground,
what other day will bring you to the Jewel Mountain?

Fourth:

At the opening of Chaos, one gets self-so;
the numinous bright makes small the great-Chun year.
Coming to birth, entering death, ever without self;
riding antiquity, vaulting the present, a free-and-easy immortal.

He also inscribed a painting by Zhi Zhongyuan of the three immortals Deyi, Yuanbao, Xuansu:

To get-the-Way true immortals — the world cannot exhaust;
these three masters, of what age, manifest their spirit-traces?
Now let the imperial repository transmit them;
men of the world, treat them as akin to Chisong.

A seeker of the Way asked for a gāthā; a seven-character quatrain:

Morning and dusk hurry each other;
secretly exchanging drifting life, the two temples' thread.
The Maker plays with men — all is dream;
right and wrong of old days — what for?

Since the master had received the administration's and the officers' petition, grieved that at Tianchang the sage-seat halls, the standing rooms and quarters, all were falling from above and sagging from below, even windows and steps all stripped — he ordered his followers to repair them day by day, patching leaks and righting leans. By bingxu (1226) he was done; all was renewed. And he built over forty more cells and rooms — not borrowed from outside affinity, but from the permanent stores. Whenever summer came, he had the various fast-houses not light lamps; only in late autumn to use them sparingly; to guard against fire.

In the tenth month he went down to Baoxuan and lived at Fanghu. Every evening, the master summoned the elder Daoists to sit in order; lofty talk, pure discourse, sometimes all night without sleep. On the night of the thirteenth of mid-winter, he rose, shook out his robe, and walked in the central courtyard. When he had sat down again, he showed the company a five-character regulated poem:

The myriad forms fill the sky, broad;
third watch, I sit on the earth, toil.
Orion slants below the western ridge;
the Dipper turns, the North Star high.
Great force cannot be stayed;
the long void cannot be hidden.
Going round — who is the lord?
A hundred million kalpas, self-secure.

The final spring

Dinghai (1227), from spring through summer, was again a drought; the authorities prayed many times, not often answered. The Dao-serving companies of the capital one day asked the master for a rain rite; then the Calamity-Dispelling and other assemblies too asked. The master said slowly: "I was just minding the rite-affair; you companies likewise propose it — good things meet without an arrangement; you two parties should be diligent." It was agreed to hold a rain-prayer rite on the first of the fifth month and a thanks-giving rite on the third; if rain came in three days, it is auspicious-response rain; after three days, though rain come, it is not the rite's rain. Someone said: "Heaven's intention is not easy to fathom; if the master's word fails before the company, will he not draw the slander of small men?" The master said: "Not what you can know." At the rite, all day long the rain came. Next day it stood a chi; three days out, the four heavens cleared; so the thanks-rain rite ended, as the master had said.

When the summer heat was sultry, marshal Zhang Zipin asked the master to roam the West Mountain; four or five requests, the master went. Next day, after the fast, they rambled to the Dongshan hermitage in the rain. The master sat with guests in the wood; at dusk returning, he showed the company a quatrain:

West Mountain — vapour clear;
after rain, the white cloud light.
A guest sits in the wood;
no-mind — the Way is self-formed.

Returning to the marshal's house, he lived in an upper room for several days; those who came to hear the Way-talk did not sleep all night. He also answered the request of Daguan hermitage; next day of Qingmeng hermitage. That evening a great rain came from the north, thunder and lightning angry, east and west flashing. The master said: "This is the Way's function. The man of the Way, his power-light burning bright, is everywhere; thunder and lightning cannot match it." Deep in the night the guests dispersed; the master rested in the thatched hall. Soon wind and rain burst in, angry thunder cracked, windows almost split; in a moment it fell silent. Men were astonished. One said: "When the thunderbolt travels, how should it stop in a single stroke?" One replied: "Is it not that the Perfected is here, and the Lord of Thunder has sheathed his might?"

The imperial decree

Returning, on the twenty-fifth of the fifth month, the Daoist Wang Zhiming came from Qinzhou bearing a decree: that the Northern Palace's Immortal Isle be changed to Wan'an Palace, and Changchun Abbey to Changchun Palace; by edict, all good men in the realm who have left the world should belong to him; and bestowed a golden tiger tablet — all Daoist matters he should decide.

After the Lesser Heat, great rains came often; the heat growing fierce, he showed the company a seven-character poem:

Damp heat smokes the sky ten thousand li far;
huge waves beat the sea, great river-tides.
Fine grain already shows three-autumn ripeness;
of drought-sprite fury, the fifth month's going I hear.
The people share joy: life has its hope;
the three armies, not waiting command, fall into order.
It is because the Way's transformation goes without bound,
secretly granting a rich year to help the sage dynasty.

Since Qionghua Isle became a Daoist hall, for several years woodcutters and fishermen had kept away; the birds and fish of garden and pool multiplied; at festivals travellers came and went. After the fast, the master mounted a horse and went there once each day.

On the twenty-first of the sixth month, because of illness he did not come out, and bathed in the east stream of the palace. On the twenty-third, men reported: between the hours of si and wu, thunder and rain came; the south bank of the Taiyi Pool split, the water poured into the East Lake with a roar heard for tens of li; turtles, crocodiles, fishes went with it; the pool ran dry; North Gate Mountain also collapsed. The master heard and at first said nothing; after a while he laughed: "The mountain has fallen, the pool is dry — shall I go with them?"

His passing

On the fourth of the seventh month the master said to his disciples: "Long ago Danyang predicted to me: 'After my death, the sect-gate must flourish greatly, and every quarter shall be turned into a Daoist land. You will meet that time. The abbeys will all have names bestowed by decree; you shall also preside over great palace-abbeys, with envoys bearing tallies coming and going, to handle the sect's affairs. This will be the time of your achievement and fame's completion, the time to retire.' Danyang's words are all being fulfilled; each fits its mark. Moreover, within the teaching, the ones to handle matters are all in place, within and without; I return with no regret." The master had been ailing at Baoxuan; one day, he several times lay down and rose; his disciples tried to stop him; the master said: "I do not want to trouble men; you still keep distinctions. Lying down and sitting — what is the difference?"

On the seventh of the seventh month the disciples asked him once more: "Every day the fasting assembly has many good men; may you, of great mercy, return to the hall to console them." The master said: "On the ninth I shall go up to the hall." That day after noon he left a gāthā:

Life and death, dawn and dusk — one thing;
phantom-bubbles come out and vanish; the water is long at ease.
Where the faint light shows, there the sun-crow and moon-hare leap;
when the mystic measure opens, it admits sea and hill.
Flung about the eight bounds as if a few inches;
blown over the myriad beings as by a mechanism.
Wild words fallen from the brush become dust and filth,
left in men's deluded hearing of the age.

Thereupon he ascended the Baoguang Hall and returned to the true. A rare fragrance filled the room. The disciples burned incense and bowed farewell. The company wished to wail; the attendants Zhang Zhisu and Wu Zhichu quickly stopped them: "The Perfected has just left a message: let the disciple Song Daoan handle the affairs of the sect, with Yin Zhiping as his deputy, Zhang Zhisong next, and Wang Zhiming as before; Song Defang and Li Zhichang and others together to discuss sect-affairs." They again recited the valedictory gāthā; the overseer Song Daoan and others received it with double bow. At dawn, in mourning hempen clothes, they performed the funeral rites; those who hastened to the mourning were ten thousand. Envoy Liu Zhonglu, hearing, said in astonishment: "From the time the Perfected had audience — ruler and subject accorded; after he left the court, the sovereign's thoughts of love did not for a moment forget. Now that the master has ascended, I must at once memorialise." After the first seven days, people of the four quarters, Daoist and lay, came from afar to mourn, weeping as for father and mother. Those seeking instruction and fa-names grew daily more. One day overseer Lord Song said to Zhichang: "On the seventh of this month, you and I together received the master's charge. In naming disciples, you shall write on my behalf, using only my manuscript-seal. The affair is already set; let us continue in this way." Soon the great master Qinghe — Lord Yin — came from Dexing, and conducted the memorial sacrifices. When the seven sevens were past, overseer Lord Song said to Qinghe: "I am old; I cannot hold the sect's gate together; you may take it from me." After twice refusing, Qinghe accepted; near and far, the Dao-servers, the assemblies, were no fewer than before.

The final interment

On the first of the third month of wuzi (1228) Qinghe proposed to build a hall for the master at Baiyun Abbey. Some said: "The labour is vast, provisions few; I fear it cannot succeed." Qinghe said: "In all affairs one needs men. The multitude can share completion, not the first planning. Only let the affair not be private; let the sect exhaust its strength; what is not to be managed? Besides, the late master's remaining virtue is in the hearts of men; of the four quarters, who will not look up? Without troubling to go begging, men will of themselves come to assist this affinity. You should not doubt. Even so: if the permanent stores are used up to nothing, each taking a single gourd — that also is my wish." The Envoy-Plenipotentiary Liu heard with joy and strongly helped the matter. He appointed Ju Zhiyuan and others to superintend. From the first ding of the fourth month they cleared the ground and laid the foundation. Through wu, ji, geng days, there came from Pingyang, Taiyuan, Jian, Dai, Wei, Ying, and elsewhere over two hundred Daoists bringing provisions to lend strength, willing to help build. In forty days it was done. Of those who joined in the affinity one cannot here record all. Some judged: though labour was human, the sages in secret helped.

They fixed the ninth of the seventh month for the great funeral of the Immortal Master. In the sixth month continuous rain did not stop; all feared the burial would be hindered. On the first ding after the seventh-of-the-seventh, suddenly news of clear skies came; men's hearts rejoiced. On the day before, incense was lit and a seat set; the offerings solemn. When the coffin was opened, the master's face and colour were as though living. Near and far, kings and officers, gentry and common, monks and nuns, good men viewing him — for three days ten thousand came each day; all raised their hands to their foreheads and marvelled at the wonder. Then the news spread in all directions; those who turned their hearts and came to bring incense were beyond counting. The Palace set up an installation-ritual of three days and nights; ten days of preparatory fasting. On the eighth day at the hour of chen, a dark crane came from the southwest; soon a white crane followed; all gazed up and marvelled. On the ninth after midnight, a Numinous-Treasure pure-rite of three hundred and sixty positions was set. When the rites were done, they interred the Immortal's shed-form in the hall; a rare fragrance spread, lingering for a long while. At noon they held the fast; yellow-capped, feather-robed, those sitting were thousands; the Dao-servers again more than ten thousand. When the spirit was at peace, next day a great rain fell again. All sighed: "Heaven-way and human affairs, above and below in accord — to complete this great affair — if our master's Way and virtue were not pure-complete, reaching Heaven and Earth, communing with the spirits, who could have done this? Truly not by human force alone."

The interim-regent Pacifier Wang Jichuan, a man of a great Xianyang clan, had long admired the Mystic Wind; recently also he had met the father master at Yan, his elegant mind shining, the Way same, breath matched; his reverence was greater still. At this funeral, therefore, he himself led the oath. Inside and outside the capital, armoured troops were posted against the unexpected; when it broke up, there was no disturbance. At this he himself wrote the hall's plaque Chushun ("Dwelling in Accord") and the abbey's plaque Baiyun ("White Cloud").

The master wrote compositions without first drafting; putting paper to brush, they came forth complete. When people asked for them afterwards, he sometimes added or altered; thus two versions exist. Once in night-talk he said to his disciples: "The ancients who got the Way — such as appear in books are few and not broad; those whose transmission is lost — can one even say how many? I have often spoken before you of the men who got the Way in recent ages, all of whom I saw and met; their doings are detailed, their Way-talk clear. In leisure I should compile The Great Biographies of the Complete-Perfection, to bequeath to later men." The master having passed, though he had said the general matter by mouth, later students have not yet seen the completed book. What a loss!

The Record of the Changchun Zhenren Journey to the West — Juan Two ends.


This Good Works Translation was produced by the New Tianmu Anglican Church from the Classical Chinese text of 長春真人西遊記, as preserved in the Daozang and digitized at zh.wikisource.org (public domain worldwide; the author Li Zhichang died c. 1256, and the earliest English translation, by Arthur Waley, was published in 1931). Arthur Waley's 1931 English translation and Emil Bretschneider's 1888 "Medieval Researches" were consulted for the reconstruction of Central Asian place-names and ethnonyms, but the English was independently derived from the Chinese source. April 2026.

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Source Text — 長春真人西遊記

卷上

父師真人長春子,姓丘氏,名𠁅機,字通宻,登州棲霞人。未冠出家,師事重陽真人。既而住磻溪、龍門十有三年,真積力乆,學道乃成。暮年,還海上。戊寅𡻕之前,師在登州,河南屢欲遣使徴聘,事有齟齬,遂已。明年,住莱州昊天觀。夏四月,河南提控邉鄙使至,邀師同徃。師不可,使者携所書詩頌歸。繼而復有使自大梁来,道聞山東爲宋人所𢴃,乃還。其年八月,江南大帥李公、彭公来請,不赴。爾後随𠁅徃徃邀請,莱之主者難其事,師乃言曰:「我之行止,天也,非若輩所及知,當有留不住時去也。」

居無何,成吉思皇帝遣侍臣劉仲禄縣虎頭金牌,其文曰:「如朕親行,便冝行事。」及蒙古人二十軰,傳旨敦請。師躊躇間,仲禄曰:「師名重四海,皇帝特詔仲禄,踰越山海,不限𡻕月,期必致之。」師曰:「兵革以来,此疆彼界,公冐險至此,可謂勞矣。」仲禄曰:「欽奉君命,敢不竭力?仲禄今年五月,在乃滿國兀里朶得旨。六月,至白登北威寧,得羽客常真諭。七月,至德興,以居庸路梗,燕京發士卒来迎。八月,抵京城,道衆皆曰:『師之有無,未可必也。』過中山,歴真定,風聞師在東莱,又得益都府安撫司官吳燕、蔣元,始得其詳,欲以兵五千迎師。燕等曰:『京東之人,聞兩朝議和,衆心稍安。今忽提兵以入,必皆𢴃險自固,亦将乘桴海上矣。誠欲事濟,不必𠇍也。』從之,乃募自願者,得二十騎以行。将抵益都,使燕、元馳報其帥張林,林以甲士萬郊迎。仲禄笑曰:『所以過此者,爲求訪長春真人,君何以甲士爲?』林扵是散其卒,相與接轡以入,所歴皆以此語之,人無駭謀,林復給以馹騎。次濰州,得尹公。冬十有二月,同至東莱,傳皇帝所以宣召之旨。」師知不可辭,徐謂仲禄曰:「此中艱食,公等且徃益都,俟我上元醮竟,當遣十五騎来。」十八日,即行。扵是宣使與衆西入益都,師預選門弟子十有九人,以俟其来。如期騎至,與之俱行。

由濰陽至青社,宣使已行矣。問之張林言:「正月七日,有騎四百軍于臨淄,青民大駭,宣使逆而止之,今未聞所在。」師尋過長山及鄒平。二月初,届濟陽,士庶奉香火,拜迎于其邑南,羽客長吟前導,飯扵養素庵。會衆僉曰:「先月十八日,有鶴十餘自西北来,飛鳴雲間,俱東南去。翌日辰巳間,又有數鶴来自西南,繼而千百,或頡或頏,獨一鶴拂庵盤桓乃去。今乃知鶴見之日,即師啓行之辰也。」皆以手加額。留數日,二月上旬,宣使遣騎来報:「已駐軍将陵,艤舟以待。」明日遂行。

十三日,宣使以軍来迓,師曰:「来何暮?」對以:「道路榛梗,特徃燕京會兵,東備信安,西備常山,仲禄親提軍取深州、下武邑以闢路,構橋扵滹沱,括舟扵将陵,是以遲。」師曰:「此事非公不克辦。」次日,絶滹沱而北。

二十二日,至瀘溝,京官、士庶、僧道郊迎。是日,由麗澤門入,道士具威儀長吟其前。行省石抹公館師于玉虛觀,自爾求頌乞名者日盈門。凡士馬所至,奉道弟子以師與之名,徃徃脫欲兵之禍,師之道廕及人如此。宣撫王巨川楫上詩,師荅云:「旌旗獵獵馬蕭蕭,北望燕師度石橋。萬里欲行沙漠外,三春遽別海山遙。良朋出塞同歸鴈,破㡌經霜更續貂。一自玄元西去後,到今無似北庭招。」

師聞行宫漸西,春秋已高,倦冐風沙,欲待駕廻朝謁,又仲禄欲以選處女偕行,師難之曰:「齊人獻女樂,孔子去魯。余雖山野,豈與處子同行哉?」仲禄乃令曷剌馳奏,師亦遣人奉表。一日,有人求跋閻立本《太上過𨶚圖》,題:「蜀郡西逰日,函𨶚東別時。群胡若稽首,大道復開基。」又以二偈示衆,其一云:「雜亂朝還暮,輕狂古到今。空華空寂念,若有若無心。」其二云:「觸情常决烈,非道莫參差。忍辱調猿馬,安閑度𡻕時。」

四月上旬,會衆請望日醮扵天長,師以行辭,衆請益力,曰:「今茲兵革未息,遺民有幸得一覩真人,䝉道廕者多矣。獨死者冥冥長夜,未沐薦拔,遺恨不無耳。」師許之。時方大旱,十有四日,既啓醮事,雨大降。衆且以行禮爲憂,師扵午後赴壇將事,俄而開霽。衆喜而歎曰:「一雨一晴,隨人所欲,非道高德厚者,感應若是乎?」明日,師登寶玄堂傳戒。時有數鶴自西北来,人皆仰之。焚簡之際,一簡飛空而滅,且有五鶴翔舞其上。士大夫咸謂師之至誠動天地。南塘老人張天度子真作賦羙其事,諸公皆有詩。

醮竟,宣使劉公從師北行。道出居庸,夜遇群盜于其北,皆稽顙以退,且曰:「無驚父師。」五月,師至德興龍陽觀度夏,以詩寄燕京士大夫,云:「登真何在泛靈槎?南北東西自有嘉。碧落雲峰天景致,滄波海市雨生涯。神㳺八極空雖逺,道合三清路不差。弱水𦂵過三十萬,騰身頃刻到仙家。」時京城吾道孫周楚𡖖、楊彪仲文、師諝才𡖖、李士謙子進、劉中用之、陳時可秀玉、吳章德明、趙中立正𡖖、王銳威𡖖、趙昉德輝、孫錫天錫,此數君子,師寓玉虛日所與唱和者也。王覯逢辰、王直哉清甫,亦與其遊。觀居禪房山之陽,其山多洞府,常有學道修真之士棲焉,師因契衆以遊。初入峽門,有詩云:「入峽清遊分外嘉,群峰列岫㦸查牙。蓬莱未到神仙境,洞府先觀道士家。松塔倒縣秋雨露,石樓斜照晚雲霞。郤思舊日終南地,夣斷西山不見涯。」其地爽塏,勢傾東南,一望三百餘里。觀之東數里平地,有湧泉,清冷可愛。師徃来其間,有詩云:「午後迎風背日行,遥山極目亂雲橫。萬家酷暑𤋱腸熱,一派寒泉入骨清。北地徃来時有信,東臯遊戲俗無爭。〈耕夫牧竪,堤隂讓坐。〉溪邉浴罷林間坐,散髪披襟暢道情。」

中元日,本觀醮。午後,傳符授戒,老㓜露坐熱甚,悉苦之。須臾,有雲覆其上,狀如圓蓋,移時不散,衆皆喜躍讃歎。又觀井中水可給百衆,至是踰千人,執事者謀他汲,前後三日,井泉忽溢,用之不竭,是皆善縁天助之也。醮後,題詩云:「太上弘慈救萬靈,衆生薦福藉群經。三田保護精神氣,萬象欽崇日月星。自揣肉身潜有漏,難逃科教入無形。且遵北斗齋儀法,〈南斗、北斗皆諭齋醮。〉漸陟南宫火煉庭。」

八月初,應宣德州元帥移剌公請,遂居朝元觀。中秋夜,有《賀聖朝》二曲。其一云:「斷雲歸岫,長空凝翠,寶鑑初圓。大光明、弘照亘流沙,外直過西天。人間是處,夢魂沈醉,歌舞華筵。道家門、別是一般清,暗開悟心田。」其二云:「洞天深處,良朋高會,逸興無邉。上丹霄、飛至廣寒宫,悄擲下金錢。靈虛晃耀,睡魔奔迸,玉兔嬋娟。坐忘機、觀透本来真,任法界周旋。」是後天氣清肅,静夜安閑,復作二絶云:「長河耿耿夜深深,寂寞寒窗萬慮沈。天下是非俱不到,安閑一片道人心。」其二云:「清夜沈沈月向高,山河大地絶纎毫。唯餘道德渾淪性,上下三天一萬遭。」朝元觀㨿州之乾隅,功德主元帥移剌公因師欲北行,剏構堂殿,奉安尊像,前後雲房洞室,皆一新之。十月間,方繪祖師堂壁,畫史以其寒,將止之。師不許,曰:「鄒律尚且廻春,况聖賢隂有所扶持邪?」是月,果天氣温和如春,絶無風沙,由是𦘕史得畢其功。有詩云:「季秋邉朔苦寒同,走石吹沙振大風。旅鴈翅𡸁南去急,行人心倦北征窮。我来十月霜猶薄,人訝千山水尚通。不是小春和氣暖,天教成就𦘕堂功。」

尋阿里鮮至自斡辰大王帳下,使来請師。繼而宣撫王公巨川亦至,曰:「承大王鈞旨:『如師西行,請過我。』」師首肯之。是月,北遊望山,曷剌進表廻,有詔曰:「成吉思皇帝勑真人丘師。」又曰:「惟師道踰三子,德重多方。」其終曰:「雲軒旣發於蓬莱,鶴馭可遊於天竺。達磨東邁,元印法以傳心;老氏西行,或化胡而成道。顧川途之雖闊,瞻几杖以非遙。爰答来章,可明朕意。秋暑,師比平安好,指不多及。」其見重如此。又勑劉仲禄云:「無使真人飢且勞,可扶持緩緩来。」師與宣使議曰:「前去已寒,沙路緜遠,道衆所須未備,可往龍陽,乘春起發。」宣使從之。

十八日,南往龍陽,道友送別,多泣下。師以詩示衆云:「生前暫別猶然可,死後長離更不堪。天下是非心不定,輪廻生死苦難甘。」翌日,到龍陽觀過冬。

十一月十有四日,赴龍巖寺齋,以詩題殿西廡云:「杖藜欲訪山中客,空水沉沉澹無色。夜来飛雪滿巖阿,今日山光映天白。天高日下松風清,神遊八極騰虛明。欲寫山家本来面,道人活計無能名。」

十二月,以詩寄燕京道友云:「此行真不易,此別話應長。北蹈野狐嶺,西窮天馬郷。陰山無海市,白草有沙塲。自嘆非玄聖,何如歴大荒?」又云:「京都若有餞行詩,早寄龍陽出塞時。昔有上牀鞋履別,今無發軫夢魂思。」復寄燕京道友云:「十年兵火萬民愁,千萬中無一二留。去𡻕幸逢慈詔下,今春須合冐寒逰。不辭嶺北三千里,〈皇帝舊兀里多。〉仍念山東二百州。窮急漏誅殘喘在,早教身命得消憂。」

辛巳之上元,醮於宣德州朝元觀,以頌云衆云:「生下一團腥臭物,種成三界是非魔。連枝帶葉無窮勢,跨古騰今不柰何。」

以二月八日啓行,時天氣晴霽,道友餞行於西郊,遮馬首以泣曰:「父師去萬里外,何時復獲瞻禮?」師曰:「但若軰道心堅固,會有日矣。」衆復泣請:「果何時邪?」師曰:「行止非人所能爲也,兼遠涉異域,其道合與不合,未可必也。」衆曰:「師豈不知?願預告弟子等。」度不獲已,乃重言曰:「三載歸,三載歸。」十日,宿翠帡口。明日,北度野狐嶺,登高南望,俯視太行諸山,晴嵐可愛,北顧但寒沙衰草,中原之風自此隔絶矣。道人之心,無適不可。宋德芳軰指戰塲白骨曰:「我歸,當薦以金籙,此亦余北行因縁之一端耳。」

北過撫州,十五日,東北過盖里泊,盡丘垤醎鹵地,始見人煙二十餘家。南有鹽池,迆邐東北去,自此無河,多鑿沙井以汲。南北數千里,亦無大山。馬行五日,出明昌界,以詩紀實云:「坡陁折疊路彎環,到處鹽場死水灣。盡日不逢人過往,經年時有馬廻還。地無木植唯荒草,天産丘陵沒大山。五穀不成資乳酪,皮裘氊帳亦開顔。」又行六七日,忽入大沙陁,其磧有矮榆,大者合抱。東北行千里外,無沙處絶無𣗳木。

三月朔,出沙陁,至魚兒濼,始有人煙聚落,多以耕釣爲業。時已清明,春色渺然,凝冰未泮。有詩云:「北陸祁寒自古稱,沙陁三月尚凝氷。更尋若士爲黄鵠,要識修鯤化大鵬。蘇武北遷愁欲死,李陵南望去無憑。我今返學盧敖志,六合窮觀最上乗。」

三月五日,起之東北,四旁遠有人煙,皆黑車白帳,隨水草放牧。盡原隰之地,無復寸木,四望唯黄雲白草。行不改途,又二十餘日,方見一沙河,西北流入陸局河。水濡馬腹,傍多叢柳。渡河北行三日,入小沙陁。

四月朔,至斡辰大王帳下,氷始袢,草㣲萌矣。時有婚嫁之會,五百里內,首領皆載馬湩助之,皂車氊帳,成列數千。七日,見大王,問以延生事。師謂須齋戒而後可聞,約以望日授受。至日,雪大作,遂已。大王復曰:「上遣使萬里,請師問道,我曷敢先焉?」且諭阿里鮮,見畢東還,須奉師過此。十七日,大王以牛馬百數、車十乗送行。馬首西北,二十二日,抵陸局河,積水成海,周數百里,風浪漂出大魚,蒙古人各得數尾。並河南岸西行,時有野薤得食。

五月朔亭午,日有食之,旣,衆星乃見,須臾復明。時在河南岸,〈蝕自西南,生自東北。〉其地朝涼而暮熱,草多黄花。水流東北,兩岸多高栁,蒙古人取之,以造廬帳。行十有六日,河勢遶西北山去,不得窮其源。西南接魚兒濼驛路,䝉古人喜曰:「前年已聞父師来。」因獻黍米石有五斗,師以斗棗酬之。渠喜曰:「未甞見此物。」因舞謝而去。又行十日,夏至,量日影三尺六七寸。漸見大山峭拔,從此以西,漸有山阜,人煙頗衆,亦皆以黑車白帳爲家。其俗牧且獵,衣以韋毳,食以肉酪。男子結髪垂兩耳。婦人冠以樺皮,高二尺許,往往以皂褐籠之,富者以紅綃,其末如鵝鴨,名曰故故,大忌人觸,出入廬帳須低回。俗無文籍,或約之以言,或刻木爲契。遇食同享,難則争赴,有命則不辭,有言則不易,有上古之遺風焉。以詩敘其實云:「極目山川無盡頭,風煙不斷水長流。如何造物開天地,到此令人放馬牛。飲血茹毛同上古,峩冠結𩬊異中州。聖賢不得垂文化,歴代縱橫只自由。」又四程,西北渡河,乃平野,其旁山川皆秀麗,水草且豐羙。東西有故城,基址若新,街衢巷陌可辨,制作類中州。𡻕月無碑刻可考,或云契丹所建。旣而地中得古瓦,上有契丹字,盖遼亡士馬不降者西行所建城邑也。又言:「西南至尋思干城萬里外,回紇國最佳處,契丹都焉,歴七帝。」

六月十三日,至長松嶺後宿,松栝森森,干雲蔽日,多生山隂澗道間,山陽極少。十四日,過山,度淺河,天極寒,壯者不可當。是夕,宿平地。十五日,曉起,環帳皆薄氷。十七日,宿嶺西,時初伏矣,朝暮亦有水霜,已三降,河水有澌,冷如嚴冬。土人云:「常年五六月有雪,今𡻕幸晴暖。」師易其名曰大寒嶺。凡遇雨多雹,山路盤曲。西北且百餘里,旣而復西北,始見平地,有石河長五十餘里,岸深十餘丈,其水清冷可愛,聲如鳴玉。峭壁之間,有大葱高三四尺,澗上有松皆十餘丈。西山連延,上有喬松𩰩然。山行五六日,峰廻路轉,林巒秀茂,下有溪水注焉。平地皆松樺雜木,若有人煙狀。尋登高嶺,勢若長虹,壁立千仞,俯視海子,淵深恐人。

二十八日,泊窩里朶之東,宣使先往奏禀皇后,奉旨請師渡河。其水東北流,㳒漫没軸,絶流以濟。入營,駐車南岸,車帳千百,日以醍醐湩酪為供。漢、夏公主皆送寒具等食,黍米斗白金十兩,滿五十兩可易麵八十斤,蓋麵出隂山之後二千餘里,西域賈胡以橐駞負至也。中伏帳房無蠅。窩里朶,漢語行宫也,其車輿亭帳,望之儼然,古之大單于未有若此之盛也。

七月九日,同宣使西南行五六日,屢見山上有雪,山下往往有墳墓,及升高陵,又有祀神之跡。又三二日,歴一山,高峰如削,松杉鬱茂,而有海子。南出大峽,則一水西流,雜木叢映扵水之陽,韮茂如芳草,夾道連數十里。北有故城,曰曷剌肖,西南過沙場二十里許,水草極少,始見回紇决渠灌麥。又五六日,踰嶺而南,至䝉古營,宿拂廬。旦行,迤邐南山,望之有雪,因以詩記其行:「當時悉達悟空晴,發軫初来燕子城。〈撫州是也。〉北至大河三月數,〈即陸局河也,四月盡到,約二千餘里。〉西臨積雪半年程。〈即此地也,山常有雪,東至陸局河約五千里,七月盡到。〉不能隱地廻風坐,〈道法有廻風隱地、攀斗藏天之術。〉郤使彌天逐日行。行到山窮水盡處,斜陽依舊向西傾。」𨜚人告曰:「此雪山北,是田鎮海八剌喝孫也。」八剌喝孫,漢語爲城。中有倉廪,故又呼曰倉頭。

七月二十五日,有漢民工匠絡繹来迎,悉皆歡呼歸禮,以彩幡、華蓋、香花前導。又有章[宗]二妃,曰徒單氏,曰夾谷氏,及漢公主母欽聖夫人袁氏,號泣相迎,顧謂師曰:「昔日稔聞道德高風,恨不一見,不意此地有縁也。」翌日,阿不罕山北鎮海来謁。師與之語曰:「吾𡔽已高,以皇帝二詔丁寧,不免逺行數千里,方臨治下。沙漠中多不以耕耘為務,喜見此間秋稼已成。余欲扵此過冬,以待鑾輿之廻,何如?」宣使曰:「父師既有法旨,仲禄不敢可否,惟鎮海相公度之。」公曰:「近有勑諸處官貟,如遇真人經過,無得稽其程,蓋欲速見之也。父師若而扵此,則罪在鎮海矣,願親徔行。凡師之所用,敢不備?」師曰:「因縁如此,當卜日行。」公曰:「前有大山高峻,廣澤沮陷,非車行地,宜減車從,輕騎以進。」用其言,留門弟子宋道安軰九人,選地爲觀。人不召而自至,壯者効其力,匠者効其技,富者施其財。聖堂方丈,東厨西廡,左右雲房。〈無瓦,皆土木。〉不一月落成,榜曰棲霞觀。時稷黍在地,八月初霜降,居人促收麥,霜故也。大風傍北山西来,黃沙蔽天,不相物色。師以詩自嘆云:「某也東西南北人,從来失道走風塵。不堪白髪𡸁𡸁老,又踏黃沙逺逺廵。未死且令觀世界,殘生無分樂天真。四山五嶽多遊徧,八表飛騰後入神。」

八日,㩗門人虛靜先生趙九古輩十餘人,從以二車,䝉古驛騎二十餘,傍大山西行,宣使劉公、鎮海相公又百騎。李家奴,鎮海從者也,因曰:「前此山下精𢧵我腦後髪,我甚恐。」鎮海亦云:「乃滿國王亦曾在此為山精所惑,食以佳饌。」師黙而不答。西南約行三日,復東南過大山,經大峽。中秋日,抵金山東北少駐,復南行。其山高大,深谷長坂,車不可行。三太子出軍,始闢其路。乃命百騎挽繩縣轅以上,縳輪以下。約行四程,連度三嶺,南出山前,臨河止泊。從官連幕爲營,因水草便,以待鋪牛驛騎,數日乃行。有詩三絶云:「八月凉風𠁊氣清,那堪日暮碧天晴?欲吟勝槩無才思,空對金山皓月明。」其二云:「金山南面大河流,河曲盤桓賞素秋。秋水暮天山月上,清吟獨嘯夜光毬。」其三云:「金山𨿽大不孤高,四面長拖拽腳牢。橫截大山心腹𣗳,干雲蔽日競呼號。」

渡河而南,前經小山,石雜五色。其旁草木不生,首尾七十里。復有二紅山當路,又三十里,醎鹵地中有一小沙井,因駐程挹水爲食。傍有青草,多爲羊馬踐履。宣使與鎮海議曰:「此地最難行處,相公如何則可?」公曰:「此地我知之乆矣。」同往諮師,公曰:「前至白骨甸地,皆黑石,約行二百餘里,達沙陁北邉,頗有水草。更涉大沙陁百餘里,東西廣袤,不知其幾千里。及囬紇城,方得水草。」師曰:「何謂白骨甸?」公曰:「古之戰場,凡疲兵至此,十無一還,死地也。頃者,乃滿大勢亦敗。于是遇天晴晝行,人馬往往困斃,唯暮起夜度,可過其半。明日向午,得水草矣。少憇,俟晡時即行,當度沙嶺百餘,若舟行巨浪然。又明日辰巳間,得達彼城矣。夜行良便,但恐天氣黯黑,魑魅魍魎爲祟,我軰當塗血馬首以厭之。」師乃笑曰:「邪精妖鬼,逢正人遠避,書傳所載,其孰不知?道人家何憂此事?」日暮遂行,牛乏,皆道弃之,馭以六馬,自爾不復用牛矣。

初在沙陁北,南望天際若銀霞,問之左右,皆未詳。師曰:「多是隂山。」翌日,過沙陁,遇樵者再問之,皆曰:「然。」於是途中作詩云:「高如雲氣白如沙,逺望那知是眼花?漸見山頭堆玉屑,遠觀日腳射銀霞。橫空一字長千里,照地連城及萬家。從古至今常不壞,吟詩寫向直南誇。」

八月二十七日,抵隂山後,囬紇郊迎。至小城北,酋長設蒲萄酒及名果、大餅、渾葱,裂波斯布人一尺,乃言曰:「此隂山前三百里和州也。其地大熱,蒲萄至夥。」翌日,㳂川西行,歴二小城,皆有居人。時禾麥初熟,皆賴泉水澆灌得,有秋少雨故也。西即鼈思馬大城,王官士庶僧道數百,具威儀逺迎。僧皆赭衣,道士衣冠與中國特異。泊于城西蒲萄園之上閣,時囬紇王部族勸蒲萄酒,供以異花、雜果、名香,且列侏儒伎樂,皆中州人。士庶日益敬,侍坐者有僧、道、儒,因問風俗。乃曰:「此大唐時北庭端府,景龍三年,楊公何爲大都護,有德政,諸夷心服,惠及後人,于今賴之。有龍興、西寺二石刻在,功德煥然可觀,寺有佛書一藏。唐之邉城,往往尚存。其東數百里,有府曰西涼。其西三百餘里,有縣曰輪臺。」師問曰:「更幾程得至行在?」皆曰:「西南更行萬餘里即是。」其夜風雨作,園外有大𣗳,復出一篇示衆云:「夜宿隂山下,隂山夜寂寥。長空雲黯黯,大𣗳葉蕭蕭。萬里途程逺,三冬氣候韶。全身都放下,一任斷蓬飄。」

九月二日,西行。四日,宿輪臺之東,迭屑頭目来迎。南望隂山,三峰突兀倚天。因述詩贈書生李伯祥,生相人。詩云:「三峰並起挿雲寒,四壁橫陳遶澗盤。雪嶺界天人不到,冰池耀日俗難觀。〈人云:「向此氷池之間觀看,則魂識昏昧。」〉巖深可避刀兵害,〈其巖險固,逢亂世堅守,則得免其難。〉水衆能滋稼穡乹,〈下有泉源,可以灌漑田禾,每𡻕秋成。〉名鎮北方爲第一,無人寫向𦘕圖看。」又歴二城,重九日,至回紇昌八剌城。其王畏午兒與鎮海有舊,率衆部族及囘紇僧皆逺迎。既入,齋于臺上,洎其夫人勸蒲萄酒,且獻西瓜,其重及秤,甘瓜如枕許,其香味盖中國未有也。園蔬同中區,有僧来侍坐,使譯者問:「看何𦀰典?」僧云:「剃度受戒,禮佛爲師。」蓋此以東昔屬唐,故西去無僧、道,回紇但禮西方耳。

翌日,並隂山而西約十程。又度沙場,其沙細,遇風則流,狀如驚濤,乍聚乍散,寸草不萌,車陷馬滯,一晝夜方出,盖白骨甸大沙分流也。南際隂山之麓,踰沙,又五日,宿隂山北。詰朝,南行,長坂七八十里,抵暮乃宿。天甚寒,且無水。晨起,西南行約三十里,忽有大池,方圓幾二百里,雪峰環之,倒影池中,師名之曰天池。㳂池正南下,左右峰巒峭拔,松樺隂森,高踰百尺,自巔及麓,何啻萬株!衆流入峽,奔騰洶湧,曲折灣環,可六七十里。二太子扈從西征,始鑿石理道,刋木爲四十八橋,橋可並車。薄暮宿峽中,翌日方出,入東西大川,水草豐秀。天氣似春,稍有桑、栆。

次及一程,九月二十七日,至阿里馬城,鋪速滿國王曁䝉古塔剌忽只領諸部人来迎,宿於西果園。土人呼果爲阿里馬,蓋多果實,以是名其城。其地出帛,目曰禿鹿麻,俗所謂種羊毛織成者。時得七束爲禦寒衣,其毛類中國。栁花鮮潔細軟,可爲線爲繩,爲帛爲綿。農者亦决渠灌田,土人唯以瓶取水,戴而歸。及見中原汲器,喜曰:「桃花石諸事皆巧。」桃花石,謂漢人也。師自金山至此,以詩記其行云:「金山東畔隂山西,千巖萬壑攅深溪。溪邉亂石當道卧,古今不許通輪蹄。前年軍興二太子,修道架橋徹溪水。〈三太子修金山,二太子修隂山。〉今年吾道欲西行,車馬喧闐復𦀰此。銀山鐵壁千萬重,爭頭競角誇清雄。日出下觀滄海近,月明上與天河通。參天松如筆管直,森森動有百餘尺。萬株相依𩰩蒼蒼,一鳥不鳴空寂寂。羊腸孟門壓太行,比斯太略猶尋常。雙車上下苦敦攧,百騎前後多驚惶。天池海在山頭上,百里鏡空含萬象。縣車束馬西下山,四十八橋低萬丈。河南海北山無窮,千變萬化規模同。未若茲山太奇絶,磊落峭拔加神功。我来時當八九月,半山已上皆爲雪。山前草木暖如春,山後衣衾冷如鐵。」連日所供勝前。又西行四日,至荅剌速没輦,〈没輦,河也。〉水勢深闊。抵西北流,從東来,截斷隂山,河南復是雪山。

十月二日,乗舟以濟,南下至一大山,北有一小城。又西行,五日,宣使以師奉詔来,去行在漸邇,先徃馳奏,獨鎮海公從師西行。七日,度西南一山,逢東夏使廻,禮師於帳前,因問:「来自何時?」使者曰:「自七月十二日辭朝,帝將兵追筭端汗至印度。明日,遇大雪,至回紇小城,雪盈尺,日出即消。十有六日,西南遇板橋,渡河,晚至南山下,即大石林牙,〈大石,學士林牙小名。〉其國王遼後也。自金師破遼,大石林牙領衆數千走西北,移徙十餘年,方至此地。其風土、氣候與金山以北不同,平地頗多,以農桑爲務。釀蒲萄爲酒,果實與中國同,惟𦀰夏秋無雨,皆疏河灌漑,百穀用成。東北西南,左右山川,延袤萬里,傳國幾百年。乃滿失國,依大石,士馬復振,盜㨿其土。繼而筭端西削其地,天兵至,乃滿尋滅,筭端亦亡。」又聞前路多阻,適壞一車,遂留之。十有八日,㳂山而西。七八日,山忽南去,一石城當途,石色盡赤,有駐軍古跡。西有大塜,若斗星相聮。又渡石橋,並西南山行五程,至塞藍城,有小塔,回紇王来迎入館。

十一月初,連日雨大作。四月,土人以爲年,旁午相賀。是日,虛静先生趙九古語尹公曰:「我隨師在宣德時,覺有長徃之兆,頗倦行役。甞䝉師訓:『道人不以死生動心,不以苦樂介懷,所適無不可。』今歸期將至,公等善事父師。」數日,示疾而逝,蓋十一月五日也。師命弟子塟九古于郭東原上,即行。西南復三日,至一城,其王亦囬紇,年已耄矣,備迎送禮,供以湯餅。明日,又歴一城。復行二日,有河,是爲霍闡没輦。由浮橋渡,泊扵西岸。河橋官獻魚扵田相公,巨口無鱗。其河源出東南二大雪山間,色渾而流急,深數丈,勢傾西北,不知其幾千里。河之西南,絶無水草者二百餘里。即夜行,復南,望大雪山而西,山形與邪米干之南山相首尾,復有詩云:「造物崢嶸不可名,東西羅列自天成。南橫玉嶠連峰峻,北壓金沙帶野平。下枕泉源無極潤,上通霄漢有餘清。我行萬里慵開口,到此狂吟不勝情。」又至一城,得接水草。復𦀰一城,囬紇頭目逺迎,飯于城南,獻蒲萄酒,且使小兒爲縁竿舞刀之戲。再𦀰二城,山行半日,入南北平川,宿大桑樹下,其𣗳可䕃百人。前至一城,臨道一井,深踰百尺。有回紇叟驅一牛,挽轆轤汲水以飲渴者。初,帝之西征也,見而異之,命蠲其賦役。

仲冬十有八日,過大河,至邪米思干大城之北,太師移剌國公及䝉古、囬紇帥首載酒郊迎,大設帷幄,因駐車焉。宣師劉公以路梗留,坐中白師曰:「頃知千里外有大河,以舟梁渡,土㓂壞之。況復已及深冬,父師似宜来春朝見。」師從之。少焉,由東北門入。其城因溝岸為之,秋、夏常無雨,國人䟽二河入城,分遶巷陌,比屋得用。方筭端氏之未敗也,城中常十萬餘戶。國破而来,存者四之一,其中大率多囬紇人,田園不能自主,須附漢人及契丹、河西等。其官長亦以諸色人爲之,漢工匠雜𠁅城中。有岡高十餘丈,筭端氏之新宫𢴃焉,太師先居之。以囬紇艱食,盗賊多有,恐其變,出居于水北。師乃住宫,嘆曰:「道人任運逍遙,以度𡻕月,白刃臨頭,猶不畏懼。況盗賊未至,復預憂乎?且善惡兩途,必不相害。」從者安之。太師作齋,獻金叚十,師辭不受,遂月奉[米](未)麵、鹽油、果菜等物,日益尊敬。公見師飲少,請以蒲萄百斤作新釀。師曰:「何必酒邪?」但如其數得之,待賔客足矣。」其蒲萄𦀰冬不壞。又見孔雀、大象,皆東南數千里印度國物。師因暇日出詩一篇云:「二月𦀰行十月終,西臨囬紇大城墉。塔高不見十三級,〈以甎刻鏤玲瓏,外無層級,內可通行。〉山厚已過千萬重。秋日在郊猶放象,夏雲無雨不徔龍。嘉蔬麥飯蒲萄酒,飽食安眠養素慵。」

師旣住冬,宣使洎相公鎮海遣曷剌等同一行使臣,領甲兵數百,前路偵伺,漢人徃徃来歸依。時有筭曆在旁,師因問五月朔日食事,其人云:「此中辰時食至六分止。」師曰:「前在陸局河時,午刻見其食。旣又西南至金山,言巳時食至七分。此三𠁅所見,各不相同。按孔頴逹《春秋䟽》曰:『體映日則日食。』以今料之,蓋當其下即見其食。旣在旁者,則千里漸殊耳。正如以扇翳燈,扇影所及,無復光明。其旁漸逺,則燈光漸多矣。」師一日至故宫中,遂書《鳳棲梧桐》詞二首于壁。其一云:「一㸃靈明潜啓悟,天上人間,不見行藏𠁅。四海八荒唯獨步,不空不有誰能覩?瞬目揚眉全體露,混混茫茫,法界超然去。萬刼輪迴遭一遇,九玄齊上三清路。」其二云:「日月循環無定止,春去秋来,多少榮枯事?五帝三皇千百禩,一興一廢長如此。死去生来生復死,輪廻變化何時已?不到無心休歇地,不能清淨超扵彼。」又詩二首,其一云:「東海西秦數十年,精思道德究重玄。日中一食那求飽,夜半三更強不眠。實跡未諧霄漢舉,虛名空播朔方傳。直教大國𡸁明詔,萬里風沙走極邉。」其二云:「弱冠尋真傍海濤,中年遁跡隴山高。河南一別昇黃鵠,塞北重宣釣巨鼇。無極山川行不盡,有爲心跡動成勞。也知六合三千界,不得神通未可逃。」

是年閏十二月将終,偵騎廻,同宣使来白父師,言二太子發軍復整舟梁,土㓂已滅。曷剌等詣營謁太子,言師欲朝帝所,復承命云:「上駐蹕大雪山之東南,今則雪積山門百餘里,深不可行,此正其路爾。爲我請師来此,聽候良便,来時當就彼城中遣䝉古軍護送。」師謂宣差曰:「聞河以南千里,絶無種養,吾食須米麵、蔬菜,可廻報太子帳下。」

壬午之春正月,杷欖始華,類小桃,俟秋採其實食之,味如胡桃。

二月二日春分,杏花已落,司天臺判李公軰請師逰郭西,宣使洎諸官載蒲萄酒以徔。是日,天氣晴霽,花木鮮明,𩩜𠁅有臺池樓閣,間之蔬圃,憇則藉草,人皆樂之。談玄論道,時復引觴,日昃方歸。作詩云:「隂山西下五千里,大石東過二十程。雨霽雪山遙慘淡,春分河府近清明。〈邪米思干大城,大石有國時名爲河中府。〉園林寂寂鳥無語,〈花木雖茂,並無飛禽。〉風日遲遲花有情。同志暫来閑聛睨,高吟歸去待昇平。」

望日,乃一百五旦太上真元節也,時僚属請師復逰郭西,園林相接百餘里,雖中原莫能過,但寂無鳥聲耳,遂成二篇以示同逰。其一云:「二月中分百五期,玄元下降日遲遲。正當月白風清夜,更好雲收雨霽時。帀地園林行不盡,照天花木坐觀竒。未能絶粒成嘉遁,且向無爲樂有爲。」其二云:「深蕃古跡尚橫陳,大漠良朋欲徧廵。舊日亭臺隨𠁅列,向年花卉逐時新。風光甚觧流連客,夕照那堪斷送人。竊念世間酬短景,何如天外飲長春?」

三月上旬,阿里鮮至自行宫,傳旨云:「真人来自日出之地,跋涉山川,勤勞至矣。今朕已廻,亟欲聞道,無倦迎我。」次諭宣使仲禄曰:「尓持詔徴聘,能副朕心,他日當置汝善地。」復諭鎮海曰:「汝護送真人来甚勤,余惟汝嘉。」仍敕萬戶播魯只以甲士千人衞過鐵門關。師問阿里鮮以途程事,對曰:「春正月十有三日,自此初發,馳三日,東南過鐵門。又五日,過大河。二月初吉,東南過大雪山,積雪甚高,馬上舉鞭測之,猶未及其半。下所踏者,復五尺許。南行二日,至行宫矣。且師至次第奏訖,上悅,留數日方廻。」師遂留門人尹志平軰三人于舘,以侍行五六人同宣使軰三月十有五日啓行。

四日,過碣石城,預傳聖旨:「令萬戶播魯只領䝉古、囬紇軍一千護送。」過鐵門,東南度山,山勢高大,亂石𦂵橫。衆軍挽車,两日方至前山,㳂流南行,軍即北入大山破賊。五日,至小河,亦船渡,两岸林木茂盛。七日,舟濟大河,即阿母没輦也。乃東南行,晚洎古渠上,渠邉蘆葦滿地,不類中原所有。其大者,𦀰冬葉青而不凋,因取以為杖,夜橫轅下,轅覆不折。其小者,葉枯春換。少南,山中有大實心竹,士卒以爲戈㦸。又見蜥蜴,皆長三尺許,色青黑。時三月二十九日也,因作詩云:「志道旣無成,天魔深有懼。東辭海上来,西望日邉去。鷄犬不聞聲,馬牛更遞鋪。千山及萬水,不知是何𠁅。」

又四日,得逹行在,上遣大臣喝剌播得来迎,時四月五日也。舘舍定,即入見,上勞之曰:「佗國徴聘皆不應,今逺踰萬里而来,朕甚嘉焉。」對曰:「山野詔而赴者,天也。」上悅,賜坐。食次,問︰「真人逺来,有何長生之藥以資朕乎?」師曰:「有衞生之道,而無長生之藥。」上嘉其誠實,設二帳扵御幄之東以居焉。譯者問曰:「人呼師爲騰吃利䝉古孔,〈譯語謂天人也。〉自謂之邪?人稱之邪?」師曰:「山野非自稱,人呼之耳。」譯者再至曰:「舊奚呼?」奏以:「山野四人事重陽師學道,三子羽化矣,唯山野𠁅世,人呼以先生。」上問鎮海曰:「真人當何號?」鎮海奏曰:「有人尊之曰師父者、真人者、神仙者。」上曰:「自今以往,可呼神仙。」時適炎熱,徔車駕廬扵雪山避暑。

上約四月十四日問道,外使田鎮海、劉仲禄、阿里鮮記之,內使近侍三人記之。将及期,有報回紇山賊指斥者,上欲親征,因改卜十月吉。師乞還舊舘,上曰:「再来,不亦勞乎?」師曰:「兩旬可矣。」上又曰:「無護送者。」師曰:「有宣差楊阿狗。」又三日,命阿狗督囬紇酋長以千餘騎徔行,由佗路廻。遂歴大山,山有石門,望如削蠟,有巨石橫其上若橋焉。其下流甚急,騎士策其驢以涉,驢遂溺死,水邉多橫屍。此地蓋關口,新爲兵所破。出峽,復有詩二篇。其一云:「水北鐵門猶自可,水南石峽太堪驚。两崖絶壁攙天聳,一澗寒波滚地傾。夾道橫屍人掩鼻,溺溪長耳我傷情。十年萬里干戈動,早晚廻軍復太平。」其二云:「雪嶺皚皚上倚天,晨光燦燦下臨川。仰觀峭壁人橫度,俯視危崖栢倒縣。五月嚴風吹面冷,三膲熱病當時痊。我来演道空囬首,更卜良辰待下元。」

始師来覲,三月竟,草木繁盛,羊馬皆肥,及奉詔而回,四月終矣,百草悉枯。又作詩云:「外國深蕃事莫窮,隂陽氣候特無徔。纔經四月隂魔盡,〈春冬霖雨,四月純陽,絶無雨。〉郤笑彌天旱魃凶。浸潤百川當九夏,〈以水漑田。〉摧殘萬草若三冬。我行往復三千里,〈三月去,五月囬。〉不見行人帶雨容。」路逢征西人囬,獲珊瑚,有徔官以白金二鎰易之,近五十株,高者尺餘,以其得之馬上,不能完也。繼日,乘凉宵征,五六日,達邪米思干,〈大石名河中府。〉諸官迎師入舘,即重午日也。

卷下

宣差李公東邁,以詩寄東方道衆云:「當時發軔海邉城,海上干戈尚未平。道德欲興千里外,風塵不憚九夷行。初從西北登高嶺,〈即野狐嶺。〉漸轉東南指上京。〈陸局河東畔,東南望上京也。〉迤邐直西南下去,〈西南四千里到兀里朶,又西南二千里到隂山。〉隂山之外不知名。」〈隂山西南,一重大山,一重小水,數千里到邪米思干大城,師館於故宫。〉師既還館,館𢴃北崖,俯清溪十餘丈,溪水自雪山来,甚寒。仲夏炎熱,就北軒風卧,夜則𥨊屋顛之臺。六月極暑,浴池中。師之在絶域,自適如此。

河中壤地宜百穀,唯無蕎麥、大豆。四月中麥熟,土俗收之,亂堆於地,遇用即碾,六月始畢。太師府提控李公獻瓜田五畒,味極甘香,中國所無,間有大如斗者。六月間,二太子廻,劉仲禄乞瓜獻之,十枚可重一擔。果菜甚贍,所欠者芋、栗耳。茄實若麁指,而色紫黑。男女皆編髪,男冠則或如逺山㡌,飾以雜綵,刺以雲物,絡之以纓。自酋長以下,在位者冠之,庻人則以白麽斯〈布屬。〉六尺許盤於其首。酋豪之婦,纒頭以羅,或皁或紫,或繡花卉、織物象,長可五六尺。髪皆垂,有袋之以緜者。或素或雜色,或以布帛爲之者,不梳髻,以布帛䝉之,若比丘尼狀,庻人婦女之首飾也。衣則或用白㲲,縫如注袋,窄上寛下,綴以[袖]〈䄂〉,謂之襯衣,男女通用。車舟、農器,制度頗異中原。國人皆以鍮石、銅爲器皿,間以磁,有若中原定磁者。酒噐則純用琉璃,兵噐則以鑌。市用金錢,無輪孔,兩靣鑿回紇字。其人多魁梧有膂力,能負載重物,不以擔。婦人出嫁,夫貧則再嫁,逺行踰三月,亦聽他適,異者或有鬚髯。國中稱大石馬者,識其國字,專掌籍簿。遇季冬,設齋一月,比暮,其長自刲羊爲食,與席者同享,自夜及旦,餘月則設六齋。又於危舍上跳出大木,如飛簷,長闊丈餘,上搆虛亭,四𡸁纓絡。每朝夕,其長登之禮西方,謂之告天,不奉佛、不奉道,大呼吟於其上。丁男女聞之,皆趍拜其下,舉國皆然,不爾則弃市。衣與國人同,其首則盤以細麽斯,長三丈二尺,骨以竹。師異其俗,作詩以記其實云:「回紇丘墟萬里疆,河中城大最爲強。滿城銅器如金器,一市戎裝似道裝。剪鏃黄金爲貨賂,裁縫白㲲作衣裳。靈瓜素椹非凡物,赤縣何人搆得嘗?」當暑雪山甚寒,烟雲慘淡,師乃作絶句云:「東山日夜氣濛鴻,曉色彌天萬丈紅。明月夜来飛出海,金光射透碧霄空。」師在館,賔客甚少,以𦀰書遊戲,復有絶句云:「北出隂山萬里餘,西過大石半年居。遐荒鄙俗難論道,静室幽巖且看書。」

七月載生魄,遣阿里鮮奉表詣行宫,禀論道日期。八月七日,得上所批荅。八日,即行,太師相送數十里。師乃曰:「回紇城東新叛者二千戶,夜夜火光照城,人心不安,太師可廻安撫。」太師曰:「在路萬一有不虞,奈何?」師曰:「豈關太師事?」乃廻。十有二日,過碣石城。十有三日,得護送步卒千人、甲騎三百,入大山中行,即鐵門外別路也。涉紅水澗,有峻峰高數里。谷東南行,山根有鹽泉流出,見日即爲白鹽,因收二斗,隨行日用。又東南上分水嶺,西望高澗若冰,乃鹽耳,山上有紅鹽如石,親嘗見之。東方唯下地生鹽,此方山間亦出鹽。回紇多餅食,且嗜鹽,渴則飲水,冬寒,貧者尚負[餅]〈缾〉售之。十有四日,至鐵門西南之麓,將出山。其山門嶮峻,左崖崩下,澗水伏流一里許。中秋,抵河上,其勢若黄河,流西北,乗舟以濟,宿其南岸。西有山寨,名團八剌,山勢險固。三太子之醫官鄭公途中相見,以詩贈云:「自古中秋月最明,涼風屆候夜彌清。一天氣象沉銀漢,四海魚龍耀水精。吳越樓臺歌吹滿,燕秦部曲酒肴盈。我之帝所臨河上,欲罷干戈致太平。」泝河東南行三十里,乃無水,即夜行。過班里城,甚大,其衆新叛去,尚聞犬吠。黎明,飯畢,東行數十里,有水北流,馬僅能渡,東岸憇宿。二十二日,田鎮海東迎,及行宫,上復遣鎮海問曰:「便欲見邪?且少憇邪?」師曰:「入見是望。」且道人從来見帝,無跪拜禮,入帳,叉手而已。既見,賜湩酪竟,乃辭。上因問:「所居城內支供足乎?」師對:「從来蒙古、回紇,太師支給,迩者食用稍難,太師獨辦。」翌日,又遣近侍官合住傳旨曰:「真人每日来就食,可乎?」師曰:「山野修道之人,唯好静處。」上令從便。二十七日,車駕北廻,在路屢賜蒲萄酒、瓜、茶食。

九月朔,渡航橋而北。師奏:「話期将至,可召太師阿海。」其月望,上設幄齋莊,退侍女,左右燈燭煒煌。唯闍利必鎮海、宣差劉仲禄侍於外,師與太師阿海、阿里鮮入帳坐。奏曰:「仲禄萬里周旋,鎮海數千里逺送,亦可入帳與聞道話。」於是召二人入,師有所說,即令太師阿海以䝉古語譯奏,頗愜聖懷。十月九日清夜,再召師論道,上大悅。二十有三日,又宣師入幄,禮如初。上温顔以聽,令左右録之,仍勑誌以漢字,意示不忘。謂左右曰:「神仙三說養生之道,我甚入心,使勿泄於外。」自爾扈從而東,時敷奏道化。又數日,至邪米思干大城西南三十里。

十月朔,奏告先還舊居,從之。上駐蹕于城之東二十里。是月六日,暨太師阿海入見。上曰:「左右不去,如何?」師曰:「不訪。」遂令太師阿海奏曰:「山野學道有年矣,常樂静處行坐。御帳前軍馬雜遝,精神不𠁊,自此或在先、或在後,任意而行,山野受賜多矣。」上從之。既出,帝使人追問曰:「要禿鹿馬否?」師曰:「無用。」于時微雨始作,青草復生,仲冬過半,則雨雪漸多,地脉方透。自師之至斯城也,有餘糧則惠飢民,又時時設粥,活者甚衆。二十有六日,即行。

十二月二十三日,雪寒,在路牛馬多凍死者。又三日,東過霍闡没輦,〈大河也。〉至行在,聞其航橋中夜斷散,蓋二十八日也。帝問以震雷事,對曰:「山野聞國人夏不浴於河,不浣衣、不造氊,野有菌則禁其採者,畏天威也,此非奉天之道也。嘗聞三千之罪,莫大於不孝者,天故以是警之。今聞國俗多不孝父母,帝乗威德,可戒其衆。」上悅,曰:「神仙是言,正合朕心。」勑左右記以回紇字。師請徧諭國人,上從之。又集太子、諸王、大臣曰:「漢人尊重神仙,猶汝等敬天。我今愈信,真天人也。」乃以師前後奏對語諭之,且云:「天俾神仙爲朕言此,汝軰各銘諸心。」師辭退,逮正旦,將帥、醫卜等官賀師。十有一日,馬首遂東,西望邪米思干千餘里,駐大果園中。十有九日,父師誕日,衆官炷香爲夀。十八日,太師府提控李公別去,師謂曰:「再相見也無?」李公曰:「三月相見。」師曰:「汝不知天理,二三月决東歸矣。」二十一日,東遷一程,至一大川,東北去賽藍約三程。水草豐茂,可飽牛馬,因盤桓焉。

二月上七日,師入見,奏曰:「山野離海上,約三年廻,今兹三年,復得歸山,固所願也。」上曰:「朕已東矣,同途可乎?」對曰:「得先行便。来時漢人問山野以還期,嘗荅云三𡻕。」今上所諮訪、敷奏訖,因復固辭。上曰:「少俟三五日,太子来,前来道話所有未解者,朕悟即行。」八日,上獵東山下,射一大豕,馬踣失馭,豕傍立不敢前,左右進馬,遂罷獵還行宫。師聞之,入諫曰:「天道好生,今聖夀已高,宜少出獵,墜馬,天戒也。豕不敢前,天護之也。」上曰:「朕已深省,神仙勸我良是。我䝉古人,騎射少所習,未䏻遽已。雖然,神仙之言在衷焉。」上顧謂吉息利荅剌汗曰:「但神仙勸我語,以後都依也。」自後兩月不出獵。二十有四日,再辭朝。上曰:「神仙將去,當與何物?朕將思之,更少待幾日。」師知不可遽辭,徊翔以待。

三月七日,又辭,上賜牛馬等物,師皆不受,曰:「秪得驛騎足矣。」上問通事阿里鮮曰:「漢地神仙弟子多少?」對曰:「甚衆。神仙来時,德興府龍陽觀中,常見官司催督差發。」上謂曰:「應于門下人悉令蠲免。」仍賜聖旨文字一通,且用御寶,因命阿里鮮〈河西人也。〉爲宣差,以䝉古帶、喝剌八海副之,護師東還。十日,辭朝行。自荅剌汗以下,皆𢹂蒲萄酒、珎果,相送數十里。臨別,衆皆揮涕。三日,至賽藍大城之東南,山有蛇兩頭,長二尺許,土人徃徃見之。望日,門人出郊,致奠于虛静先生趙公之墓。衆議欲負其骨歸,師曰:「四大假軀,終爲弃物。一靈真性,自在無拘。」衆議乃息,師明日遂行。二十有三日,宣差阿狗追餞師於吹没輦之南岸。又十日,至阿里馬城西百餘里,濟大河。

四月五日,至阿里馬城之東園。二太子之太匠張公固請曰:「弟子所居營三壇四百餘人,晨參暮禮,未嘗懈怠。且預接數日,伏願仙慈渡河,俾壇衆得以請教,幸甚。」師辭曰:「南方因縁已近,不䏻遷路以行。」復堅請,師曰:「若無佗事,即當徃焉。」翌日,師所乗馬突東北去,從者不䏻挽。於是張公等悲泣曰:「我輩無縁,天不許其行矣!」晚抵隂山前宿。又明日,復度四十八橋,縁溪上五十里,至天池海,東北過隂山後,行二日,方接元歴金山南大河驛路,復𦀰金山東南,北並山行。

四月二十八日,大雨雪。翌日,滿山皆白,又東北並山行。三日,至阿不罕山前。門人宋道安輩九人同長春、玉華會衆、宣差郭德全輩,逺迎入棲霞觀,歸依者日衆。師下車時,雨再降,人相賀曰:「從来此地𦀰夏少雨,縱有雷雨,多於南北兩山之間。今日霑足,皆我師道廕所致也。」居人常𡻕䟽河灌田圃,至八日禾麥始熟,終不及天雨。秋成則地鼠爲害,鼠多白者。此地寒多,物晚結實。五月,河岸土深尺餘,其下堅氷亦尺許,齋後日,使人取之。南望高嶺積雪,盛暑不消,多有異事。少西海子傍有風塜,其上土白堊,多粉裂其上,二三月中,即風起南山,嵓穴先鳴,蓋先驅也。風自塜間出,初旋動如羊角者百千數,少焉合爲一風,飛沙走石,發屋拔木,勢震百川,息于巽隅。又東南澗後有水磨三四,至平地則水漸㣲而絶,山出石炭。又東有二泉,三冬暴漲如江湖,復潜行地中,俄而突出,魚鰕隨之,或漂没居民,仲春漸消,地乃陷。西北千餘里儉儉州,出良鐵,多青鼠,亦收𢇲麥。漢匠千百人居之,織綾羅錦綺。道院西南望金山,其山多雨雹,五六月間,或有大雪深丈餘。北地間有沙陀,出肉蓯蓉,國人呼曰唆眼,水曰兀速,草曰愛不速。深入隂山,松皆十丈許。會衆白師曰:「此地深蕃,太古以来,不聞正教,唯山精鬼魅惑人。自師立觀,疊設醮筵,旦望作會,人多以殺生爲戒。若非道化,何以得然?」先是壬午,道衆爲不善人妬害,衆不安。宋公道安晝寢方丈,忽於天䆫中見虛静先生趙公曰:「有書至。」道安問:「從何来?」曰:「天上来。」受而視之,止見「太清」二字,忽隱去。翌日,師有書至,魔事漸消。又毉者羅生,橫生非毀,一日,墮馬觀前,折其脛,即自悔曰:「我之過也。」對道衆服罪。師東行,書《教語》一篇示衆云:「萬里乗官馬,三年別故人。干戈猶未息,道德偶然陳。論氣當秋夜,〈對上論養生事,故云。〉還鄉及暮春。思歸無限衆,不得下情伸。」阿里鮮等白師曰:「南路饒沙石,鮮水草,使客甚繁,馬甚苦,恐留滯。」師曰:「分三班以進,吾徒無患矣。」

五月七日,令宋道安、夏志誠、宋德方、孟志温、何志堅、潘德沖六人先行。十有四日,師挈尹志平、王志明、于志可、鞠志圓、楊志静、綦志清六人次之,餞行者夾谷妃、郭宣差、李萬戶等數十人。送二十里,皆下馬再拜泣別,師䇿馬亟進。十有八日,張志素、孫志堅、鄭志脩、張志逺、李志常五人又次之。師東行十六日,過大山,山上有雪,甚寒,易騎于拂廬。十七日,師不食,但時時飲湯。東南過大沙場,有草水,其間多蚊虻,夜宿河東。又數日,師或乗車,尹志平輩諮師曰:「奚疾?」師曰:「余疾非醫可測,聖賢琢磨故也,卒未能愈,汝輩勿慮。」衆愀然不釋。是夕,尹志平夣神人曰:「師之疾,公輩勿憂,至漢地當自愈。」又𦀰沙路三百餘里,水草絶少,馬夜進不息。再宿乃出,地臨夏人之北倕,廬帳漸廣,馬易得,後行者乃及師。

六月二十一日,宿漁陽𨶚,師尚未食。明日,度𨶚而東五十餘里,豐州元帥以下来迎,宣差俞公請泊其家,奉以湯餅。是日,輙飽食,繼而設齋,飲食乃如故。道衆相謂曰:「清和前日之夣,驗不虛矣。」時已季夏,北軒涼風入坐,俞公以蠒紙求書,師書之云:「身閒無俗念,鳥宿至鷄鳴。一眼不能睡,寸心何所縈?雲收溪月白,炁𠁊谷神清。不是朝昏坐,行功扭捏成。」七月朔,復起。三日,至下水,元帥夾谷公出郭来迎,館扵所居,来瞻禮者無慮數千人。元帥日益敬,有鷄、鴈三。七夕日,師遊郭外,放之海子中,少焉,翔戲於風濤之間,容與自得。師賦詩曰:「養爾存心欲薦庖,逢吾善念不爲肴。扁舟送在鯨波裏,會待三秋長六梢。」又云:「兩兩三三好弟兄,秋来羽翼未䏻成。放歸碧海深沈處,浩蕩波瀾快野情。」翌日乃行。是月九日,至雲中,宣差緫管阿不合與道衆出京,以步輦来迎歸于第。樓居二十餘日,緫管以下晨參暮禮,雲中士大夫日来請教,以詩贈之云:「得旨還鄉早,乗春造物多。三陽初變化,一氣自沖和。驛馬程程送,雲山𠁅𠁅羅。京城一萬里,重到即如何?」

十有三日,宣差阿里鮮欲徃山東招諭,懇求與門弟子尹志平行。師曰:「天意未許,雖徃何益?」阿里鮮再拜曰:「若國王臨以大軍,生靈必遭殺戮,願父師一言𡸁慈。」師良久曰:「雖救之不得,猶愈扵坐視其死也。」乃令清和同徃,即付招諭書二副。又聞宣德以南諸方道衆来參者多,恐隨庵困於接待,令尹公約束,付親筆云:「長行萬里,一去三年。多少道人,縱橫無賴者。尹公到日,一面施行,勿使教門有妨道化。衆生福薄,容易轉流。上山即難,下坡省力耳。」宣德元帥移剌公遣專使持書至雲中,以所乗馬奉師。八月初,東邁楊河,歴白登、天城、懷安,渡渾河,凡十有二日,至宣德,元帥具威儀出郭西逺迎。師入居州之朝元觀,道友敬奉,遂書四十字云:「萬里遊生界,三年別故鄉。廻頭身已老,過眼夣何長!浩浩天空闊,紛紛事杳茫。江南及塞北,從古至今常。」道衆且云:「去冬有見虛静先生趙公牽馬自門入者,衆爲之出迎,忽而不見。又,德興、安定亦有人見之。」河朔州府王官將帥及一切士庻,争以書䟽来請,若輻輳然,止廻答數字而已。有云:「王室未寧,道門先暢。開度有縁,恢弘無量。群方帥首,志心歸向。恨不化身,分酬衆望。」

十月朔,作醮於龍門川。望日,醮於本州朝元觀。

十一月望,宋德方等以向日過野狐嶺見白骨所發願心,乃同太君尹千億醮于德興之龍陽觀,濟度孤魂。前數日稍寒,及設醮,二夜三日有如春。醮畢,元帥賈昌至自行在,傳旨:「神仙自春及夏,道途匪易,所得食物、馹騎好否?到宣德等處,有司在意館榖否?招諭在下人戶得来否?朕常念神仙,神仙無忘朕。」

十二月旣望,醮于蔚州三館,師於龍陽住冬。旦夕常徃,龍岡閑步,下視德興,以兵革之後,村落蕭條,作詩以寫其意云:「昔年林木參天合,今日村坊徧地開。無限蒼生臨白刃,幾多華屋變青灰?」又云:「豪傑痛吟千萬首,古今能有幾多人?研窮物外閑中趣,得脫輪廻泉下塵。」

甲申之春二月朔,醮於縉山之秋陽觀。觀在大翮山之陽,山水明秀,松蘿煙月,道家之地也。以詩題其槩云:「秋陽觀後碧嵓深,萬頃煙霞插翠岑。一径桃花出水急,彎環流水洞天心。」又云:「羣山一帶碧嵯峨,上有羣仙日夜過。洞府深沈人不到,時聞巖壁洞仙歌。」燕京行省金紫石抹公、宣差便宜劉公以下諸官,遣使者持䟽懇請師住大天長觀,許之。既而以驛召,乃度居庸而南,燕京道友来迎於南口神㳺觀。明旦,四逺父老士女以香花導師入京,瞻禮者塞路。初,師之西行也,衆請還期。師曰:「三載歸,三載歸。」至是,果如其言。以上七日入天長觀,齋者日千人。望日,會衆請赴玉虛觀。是月二十五日,喝剌至自行宫,傳旨:「神仙至漢地,以清浄道化人,每日與朕誦𦀰祝壽,甚好,教神仙好田地內愛住處住,道與阿里鮮。神仙𡔽高,善爲護持,神仙無忘朕舊言。」仲夏,行省金紫石抹公、便宜劉公再三持䟽,請師住持大天長觀。是月二十有二日,赴其請,空中有數鶴前導,傃西北而去。自師寓玉虛,或就人家齋,常有三五鶴飛鳴其上。北方從来奉道者鮮,至是聖賢欲使人歸向,以此顯化耳。八會之衆,皆稽首拜跪,作道家禮,時俗一變。玉虛井水舊鹹苦,甲申、乙酉年,西来道衆甚多,水味變甘,亦善縁所致也。

季夏望日,宣差相公劄八傳旨:「自神仙去,朕未甞一日忘神仙,神仙無忘朕。朕所有之地,愛願處即住,門人恒爲朕誦𦀰祝𡔽則嘉。」自師之復来,諸方道侶雲集,邪說日𥨊,京人翕然歸慕,若戶曉家諭,家門四闢,百倍徃昔。乃建八會於天長,曰平等,曰長春,曰靈寶,曰長生,曰明真,曰平安,曰消灾,曰萬蓮。師旣歸天長,逺方道人繼来求法名者日益衆。甞以四頌示之。其一云:「世情無斷滅,法界有消磨,好惡縈心曲,漂淪奈爾何!」其二云:「有物先天貴,無名不自生。人心常隱伏,法界任縱橫。」其三云:「徇物雙眸眩,勞生四大窮。世間渾是假,心上不知空。」其四云:「昨日念無蹤,今朝事亦同。不如齊放下,度日且空空。」每齋畢,出遊故苑瓊華之上,從者六七人,宴坐松隂,或自賦詩,相次屬和。間因茶罷,令從者歌《㳺仙曲》數闋,夕陽在山,澹然忘歸。由是行省及宣差劄八相公北宫園池并其近地數十頃爲獻,且請爲道院。師辭不受,請至于再,始受之。旣而又爲頒文牓以禁樵採者,遂安置道侶,日益脩葺。後具表以聞,上可其奏。自尓佳時勝日,師未甞不徃来乎其間。寒食日,作詩二首,其一云:「十頃方池間御園,森森松栢罩清煙。亭臺萬事都歸夢,花栁三春卻屬仙。島外更無清絶地,人間唯有廣寒天。深知造物安排定,乞與官民種福田。」其二云:「清明時節杏花開,萬戶千門日徃来。島外茫茫春水闊,松間獵獵暖風廻。遊人共嘆斜陽逼,逹士猶嗟短景催。安得大丹冥換骨,化身飛上𩰩羅臺。」

乙酉四月,宣撫王公巨川請師致齋于其第,公𨶚右人,因話咸陽、終南竹木之盛,請師看庭竹。師曰:「此竹殊秀,兵火而後,盖不可多得也。我昔居于磻溪,茂林秀竹,真天下之竒觀,思之如夢。今老矣,歸期將至,當分我數十竿,植寶玄之北軒,聊以遮眼。」宣撫曰:「天下兵革未息,民甚倒懸,主上方尊師重道,賴師真道力保護生靈,何遽出此言邪?願𡸁大慈,以救世爲念。」師以杖叩地,笑而言曰:「天命已定,由人乎㦲?」衆莫測其意。

夏五月終,師登𡔽樂山巔,四顧園林,若張翠幄,行者休息其下,不知暑氣之甚也。因賦五言詩云:「地土臨邉塞,城池壓古今。雖多壞宫闕,尚有好園林。緑樹攅攅宻,清風陣陣深。日遊仙島上,高視八紘吟。」一日,師自瓊島廻,陳公秀玉来見,師出示七言律詩云:「蒼山突兀倚天孤,翠柏隂森遶殿扶。萬頃煙霞常自有,一川風月等閑無。喬松挺拔来深澗,異石嵌空出太湖。盡是長生閑活計,脩真薦福邁京都。」

九月初吉,宣撫王公以熒惑犯尾宿,主燕境灾,將請師作醮,問所費幾何?師曰:「一物失所,猶懷不忍,况闔境乎?比年已来,民苦徴役,公私交罄,我當以觀中常住物給之,但令京官齋戒以待行禮足矣,餘無所用也。」於是約作醮兩晝夜。師不憚其老,親禱于玄壇。醮竟之夕,宣撫喜而賀之曰:「熒惑已退數舍,我輩無憂矣。師之德感,一何速㦲!」師曰:「余有何德?祈禱之事,自古有之,但恐不誠耳。古人曰:『至誠動天。』此之謂也。」重九日,逺方道衆咸集,或以菊爲獻。師作詞一闋,寓聲恨歡遲云︰「一種靈苗體性殊,待秋風、冷透根株。散花開百億,黄金嫩、照天地清虛。九日持来滿座隅,坐中觀眼界如如。類長生久視,無凋謝、稱作伴閑居。」繼而有奉道者,持蠒紙大軸,来求親筆,以《鳳棲梧》詞書之云:「得好休来休便是,贏取逍遙,免把身心使。多少聦明英烈士,忙忙虛負平生志。造物推移無定止,昨日歌歡,今日愁煩至。今日不知明日事,區區著甚勞神思。」一日,或有質事非于前者,師但漠然不應,以道義釋之,復示之以頌曰:「拂拂拂,拂盡心頭無一物。無物心頭是好人,好人便是神仙佛。」其人聞之,自愧而退。

丙戌正月,盤山請師黄籙醮三晝夜。是日,天氣晴霽,人心悅懌,寒谷生春。將事之夕,以詩示衆云:「詰曲亂山深,山高快客心。羣峰爭挺拔,巨壑太蕭森。似有飛仙過,殊無宿鳥吟。黄冠三日醮,素服萬家臨。」

五月,京師大旱,農不下種,人以爲憂。有司移市立壇懇禱,前後數旬無應。行省差官齎疏,請師爲祈雨醮三日兩夜。當設醮請聖之夕,雲氣四合,斯須雨降。自夜半及食時未止,行省委官奉香火来謝曰:「京師乆旱,四野欲然,五穀未種,民不聊生。賴我師道力,感通上真,以降甘澍。百姓僉曰:『神仙雨也。』」師荅曰:「相公至誠所感,上聖𡸁慈,以活生靈,吾何與焉?」使者出,復遣使来告曰:「雨則旣降,奈久旱未霑足何?更得滂沱大作,此旱可觧,願我師慈悲。」師曰:「無慮,人以至誠感上真,上真必以誠報人,大雨必至。」齋未竟,雨勢海立。

是𡻕有秋,名公碩儒皆以詩来賀。一日,有吳大𡖖德明者,以四絶句来上,師復次韻荅之。其一云:「燕國蟾公即此州,超凡入聖洞賔儔。一時鶴駕歸蓬島,萬劫仙鄉出土丘。」其二云:「我本深山獨自居,誰能天下衆人譽?軒轅道士来相訪,不觧言談世俗書。」其三云:「莫把閑人作等閑,閑人無欲近仙班。不於此日開心地,更待何時到寶山?」其四云:「混沌開基得自然,靈明翻小大椿年。出生入死常無我,跨古騰今自在仙。」又題支仲元畫得一、元保、玄素三仙圖云:「得道真仙世莫窮,三師何代顯靈蹤?直教御府相傳授,閱向人間類赤松。」又奉道者求頌,以七言絶句示之云:「朝昏忽忽急相催,暗換浮生兩鬢絲。造物戲人俱是夢,是非嚮日又何爲。」

師自受行省已下衆官䟽以来,憫天長之聖位殿閣,常住堂宇,皆上頹下圯,至於䆫戶堦砌,毀撤殆盡。乃命其徒,日益修葺,罅漏者補之,傾斜者正之。斷手于丙戌,皆一新之。又創修寮舍四十餘間,不假外縁,皆常住自給也。凢遇夏月,令諸齋舍不張燈,至季秋稍親之,所以預火備也。

十月,下寶玄,居方壺,每夕,召衆師德以次坐,高談清論,或通宵不寐。仲冬十有三日夜半,振衣而起,步於中庭。旣還坐,以五言律詩示衆云:「萬象彌天闊,三更坐地勞。參橫西嶺下,斗轉北辰高。大勢無由遏,長空不可韜。循環誰主宰?億劫自堅牢。」

丁亥,自春及夏又旱,有司祈禱屢矣,少不獲應。京師奉道會衆,一日請師爲祈雨醮,旣而消灾等會,亦請作醮。師徐謂曰:「吾方留意醮事,公等亦建此議,所謂好事不約而同也,公等兩家但當慇懃。」遂約以五月一日爲祈雨醮,初三日爲賀雨醮,三日中有雨,是名瑞應雨,過三日雖得,非醮家雨也。或曰:「天意未易度,師對衆出是語,萬一失期,能無招小人之訾邪?」師曰:「非爾所知也。」及醮,竟日雨乃作。翌日,盈尺。越三日,四天廓清,以終謝雨醮事,果如其言。

時暑氣煩燠,元帥張資胤者請師遊西山,再四過勤,師赴之。翌日齋罷,雨後遊東山庵,師與客坐于林間,日夕將還,以絶句示衆云:「西山𠁊氣清,過雨白雲輕。有客林間坐,無心道自成。」旣還元帥第,樓居數日,来聽道話者竟夕不𥧌。又應大谷庵請,次日,清夢庵請。其夕,大雨自北来,雷電怒合,東西震耀。師曰:「此道之用也,得道之人,威光烜赫,無乎不在,雷電莫能匹也。」夜深客散,師偃息草堂,須臾,風雨駭至,怒霆一震,䆫戶幾裂,少焉收聲,人皆異之。或曰:「霹靂當㳺至,何一舉而息邪?」有應者曰:「無乃至人在兹,雷師爲之霽威乎?」

旣還,五月二十有五日,道人王志明至自秦州,傳旨改北宫仙島爲萬安宫,長春觀爲長春宫,詔天下出家善人皆𨽻焉,且賜以金虎牌,道家事一仰神仙處置。

小暑後,大雨屢至,暑氣欲熾,以七言詩示衆云:「溽暑熏天萬里遙,洪波拍海大川潮。嘉禾已見三秋熟,旱魃仍聞五月消。百姓共忻生有望,三軍不待令方調。寔由道化行無外,暗賜豐年助聖朝。」自瓊島爲道院,樵薪捕魚者絶迹數年,園池中禽魚蕃育,歳時遊人徃来不絶。齋餘,師乗馬日凢一徃。

六月二十有一日,因疾不出,浴於宫之東溪。二十有三日,人報巳午間,雷雨大作,太液池之南岸崩裂,水入東湖,聲聞數十里,黿鼉魚鼈盡去,池遂枯涸,北口山亦摧。師聞之,初無言,良久笑曰:「山摧池枯,吾將與之俱乎?」

七月四日,師謂門人曰:「昔丹陽甞授記於余云:『吾没之後,教門當大興,四方徃徃化爲道鄉。公正當其時也,道院皆勑賜名額,又當住持大宫觀,仍有使者佩符乗傳,勾當教門事,此時乃公功成名遂,歸休之時也。』丹陽之言,一一皆驗,若念契符。況教門中勾當人內外悉具,吾歸無遺恨矣。」師旣示疾于寶玄,一日,數如偃中,門弟子止之,師曰:「吾不欲勞人,汝等猶有分別在,且偃𥨊奚異㦲?」

七月七日,門人復請曰:「每日齋會,善人甚衆,願𡸁大慈還堂上,以慰瞻禮。」師曰:「我九日上堂去也。」是日午後,留頌云:「生死朝昏事一般,幻泡出没水長閑。㣲光見處跳烏兔,玄量開時納海山。揮斥八紘如咫尺,吹噓萬有似機關。狂辭落筆成塵垢,寄在時人妄聽間。」遂登葆光堂歸真焉,異香滿室。門人捻香拜別,衆欲哭臨,侍者張志素、武志攄等遽止衆曰:「真人適有遺語,令門人宋道安提舉教門事,尹志平副之,張志松又其次,王志明依舊勾當,宋德方、李志常等同議教門事。」遂復舉似遺世頌畢,提舉宋道安等再拜而受。黎明,具麻服行䘮禮,奔走赴䘮者萬計。宣差劉仲禄聞之,愕然歎曰:「真人朝見以来,君臣道合,離闕之後,上意眷慕,未甞少忘。今師旣昇去,速當奏聞。」首七之後,四方道俗逺来赴䘮,哀慟如䘮考妣。於是求訓法名者日益多。一日,提舉宋公謂志常曰:「今月上七日,公曁我同受師旨,法名等事,尓其代書,止用吾手字印。此事已行,姑㳂襲之。」繼而清和大師尹公至自德興,行祀事。旣終七,提舉宋公謂清和曰:「吾老矣,不能維持教門,君可代吾領之也。」讓至于再,清和受其託,逺邇奉道,會中善衆,不減徃昔。

戊子春三月朔,清和建議爲師構堂于白雲觀,或曰:「工力浩大,粮儲鮮少,恐難成功。」清和曰:「凡事要人前思,夫衆可與樂成,不可與慮始,但事不私己,教門竭力,何爲而不辦?况先師遺德在人,四方孰不瞻仰?可不勞行化,自有人賛助此縁,公等勿疑。或不然,常住之物,費用静盡,各操一瓢,乃所願也。」宣差便宜劉公聞而喜之,力賛其事。遂舉鞠志圓等董其役,自四月上丁,除地建址,歴戊、己、庚,俄有平陽、太原、堅、代、蔚、應等羣道人二百餘,𧶐粮助力,肯構是堂。四旬告成,其間同結兹縁者,不能備紀。議者以爲締構之勤,𨿽由人力,亦聖賢隂有以扶持也。

期以七月九日大葬仙師,六月間,霖雨不止,皆慮有妨葬事。旣七日初吉,遽報晴霽,人心翕然和悅。前一日將事之初,乃炷香設席,以嚴其祀。及啓柩,師容色儼然如生。逺近王官、士庻、僧尼善衆觀者,凢三日,日萬人,皆以手加額,嘆其神異焉。繼而喧播四方,傾心歸嚮,来奉香火者,不可勝計。本宫建奉安道場三晝夜,豫告齋旬日。八日辰時,玄鶴自西南来,尋有白鶴繼至,人皆仰而異之。九日子時後,設靈寶清醮三百六十分位。醮禮終,藏仙蛻于堂,異香芬馥,移時不散。臨午致齋,黄冠羽服與坐者數千人,奉道之衆又復萬餘。旣寧神,翌日,大雨復降,人皆嘆曰:「天道人事,上下和應,了此一大事,非我師道德純備,通于天地,逹于神明,疇克如是乎?諒非人力所能致也。」

權省宣撫王公巨川,咸陽巨族也,素慕玄風,近𡻕又與父師相會于燕,雅懷昭映,道同氣合,尊仰之誠,更甚疇昔。故會茲葬事,自爲主盟。京城內外,屯以甲兵,備其不虞。罷散之日,畧無驚擾。於是親榜其堂曰處順,其觀曰白雲焉。

師爲文,未始起槀,臨紙肆筆而成。後復有求者,或輙自增損,故兩存之。甞夜話,語門弟子曰:「古之得道人,見于書傳者,畧而不愽,失其傳者,可勝言㦲!余屢對汝衆舉近世得道之士,皆耳目所觀接者,其行事甚詳,其談道甚明。暇日當集《全真大傳》,以貽後人。」師既没,雖甞口傳其槩,而後之學者,尚未見其成書,惜㦲!

《長春真人西遊記》卷下

Source text from zh.wikisource.org; this work is in the public domain worldwide (author died in the thirteenth century; first English translation published 1931 is also in the public domain).

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