萬靈歸宗 — Wànlíng Guīzōng
A collection of songs by Yuan Tui'an (袁退安), the Twelfth Patriarch of the Yiguandao lineage, composed during a period of heavenly testing when sweet potatoes sustained the community for three months. Written in the late Qing dynasty and hidden in a chest until rediscovered in 1856, when Cangzhou Zi found the manuscript glowing with light. The patriarch composed these songs across more than twenty different classical tune forms — from "Dwelling Cloud Flight" to "Pine Leaves Dripping Tears" — each one a different vessel for the same urgent message: wake up, find the true Dao, come home before the ferry leaves. The collection closes with twelve hours of alchemical instruction set to the "Dragon-Phoenix Harmony" tune, mapping the inner work onto every moment of the day. Through famine and testing, the patriarch sang. Through song, the ten thousand spirits find their way home.
Good Works Translation from Classical Chinese. First English translation. Gospel register.
Preface
By Cangzhou Zi, 1856
This book, Ten Thousand Spirits Return to Ancestral Origin, was composed by the Twelfth Patriarch Yuan, who held the heavenly altar and ferried souls across the four regions, during the era of the Second Patriarch of the Infinite.
That year, heaven set its test. For three months, sweet potatoes were all the community had to eat. Through a hundred setbacks, the patriarch's heart never wavered. In every crisis, in every quiet moment, compassion arose in him, and he grieved for the original souls who had not yet come home.
Fearing that harder tests would come, and that returning to the ancient homeland would grow more difficult, he composed these songs — to ease his own troubled heart, and to leave as evidence for the Third Period. He wanted anyone who found this book to have a master within their own heart, to resist false teachings, and to abandon deviant paths for the true road.
This book is a golden lamp illuminating the darkness. It is a precious raft ferrying the worthy home.
The patriarch wrote it, but it lay hidden in a chest for a long time. The wrong time, it would not be revealed. The wrong person, it would not be given.
Then one autumn evening, after a celebration, I returned to my room and saw the book-chest glowing from within. I searched carefully — no jewels, no treasures — only this book, still faintly radiant. I took it up and read it with my whole attention. Hidden yet revealed. Dark yet bright. Every word breaks open the secret of ten thousand spirits returning to their origin. Every sentence points the way to the Dragon-Flower shore.
I nearly went mad with joy. People call jewels precious — this book surpasses jewels. It is a night-shining pearl. I dare not hide it, lest I betray the patriarch's heart. I offer it to all who share this aspiration.
If you encounter this book in the Third Period, it is the rarest karmic gift. The deep will see depth; the shallow will see shallowness. If you penetrate its meaning with the Buddha's eye, you will know in your own heart: hurry, save the lost children, come home early, and comfort the Mother.
Do not reveal heavenly secrets carelessly. Wherever this book reaches, gods pay homage and demons flee. But if someone reads this and slanders it, the gods will record the transgression, and at the end of that person's life — the lowest hell, with no escape for ten thousand ages.
Read carefully. Savor it. In time you will understand.
Dwelling Cloud Flight
I charge you, men and women of this world: you must take this chance of the Third Period to save yourselves.
Receive the Dao, and the inner fire and water begin to turn. Fix the four cardinal points within your body. Through all twelve hours, run the current backward — against the ordinary flow. Draw the water up to fill the fire above. Do not go against heaven's command. When the work is complete, you will attain the imperishable body.
The Jade Pool issues its decree. All the buddhas receive their orders and descend from the heavenly court. They sacrifice themselves to bear the weight of the tribulation. The eighty-one trials run their course. The age of universal salvation reaches its fullness, and the great gathering begins.
From the holy palace of the North Star, the Three Buddhas receive their mandate and descend to the precious land of the Central Plain.
The three Dragon-Flower gatherings open. All the buddhas of heaven come down from their cloud palaces. Each carries a golden tablet of command. Each borrows a mother's womb to invest their original nature in flesh. They build merit and cultivate virtue, waiting for the appointed time.
In this gaudy red-dust world, see the sign and keep your faith. Only then can you return to the ancient village of home.
See your nature and clarify your heart. To subdue demons, open your wisdom-eye wide. Know where to stop, and then you will be settled. From the ordinary, you may reach the holy. But guard closely — karmic enemies will invade your nature if you are careless.
Read the scriptures widely and release the bright mirror within. Seek the nine-turn scripture of the White Sun era while there is time.
Phoenix on Paulownia
The Eternal Mother in her Jade Palace weeps pearl tears. All the buddhas are terrified. They kneel before her vermilion steps, pleading on behalf of the multitude. Only by changing the heavenly mechanism has the disaster been delayed until now.
The Five Demons will soon arrive in the East. They lodge their nature in wicked people. In an instant, heaven will overturn. Do not treat this as a children's game.
All the false gates will go together to the great examination. In the Southern Continent, four rivers are set as obstacles. Can you leap across?
The West offers its temptations. Its fog surpasses the nets of heaven. The five swords of the Immortal-Slayer Formation are set — almost impossible to escape.
Who says the ten courts of the underworld are only in the afterlife? Everything appears right here. For every deed done in the world of the living, a corresponding one is recorded in the world of the dead. Purify yourself early, and you will never see hell.
The heavenly time has arrived but people do not know it. Humans, who should be teachers, fall below the birds. The phoenix appears, heralding the sage. The unicorn appears, signaling the heavenly Dao. When the Yellow River runs clear — who understands the mystery?
Immortals and buddhas fill the world — but who can see them? They hide their true faces. They conceal their forms and cast no shadows. In secret they plant golden lotuses. A few extraordinary deeds burst through to the Jade Court.
Five-Watch Cloud Brocade
First watch. Light the bright lamp. The Lantern Festival hides its extraordinary cause. A hundred marvels shine in the darkness. Since ancient times, this transmission has passed from hand to hand — but who recognizes it? The sixty-ninth generation comes to its end. The twenty-eighth brings in the lamp. My buddha — lamp to lamp, linked together, connecting the ordinary to the holy.
Second watch. Sit quietly in the mystery. Harmonize yin and yang, temperament and nature. Turn the Dharma wheel upward. Sun and moon shine from the ocean floor. Push out the turbid breath. The clear seedling rises of its own. My buddha — when the impulse stirs, the flower opens within the mystery.
Third watch. Keep the heart steady. Most dangerous: the wavering that loses the true heart. One mistake and you fail your original self. The message is hidden in inches. Do not let this slip — ten thousand ages of progress depend on it. Whether you rise or fall — that too depends on destiny.
Fourth watch. The times can change in a flash. When will you repent, if not now? Refine the primordial to supplement what has been spent. Don't wait for ten thousand demons to appear in all directions. In the blink of an eye, destruction sits on your eyelash. My buddha — you must cultivate yourself until the true person appears.
Fifth watch. The east brightens. Build your outer merit. Cultivate your inner treasure. A person who saves only themselves is not worthy. The stubborn and the rigid — they do not understand. Heaven, earth, and the underworld are all busy beyond measure. My buddha — only when you receive heaven's investiture is the work truly done.
Clear River Guide
All methods return to one — the central Dao. Every transformed buddha and holy sage has come to this place. On the ancient ground, the Dragon-Flower is established. In the Southern Continent, the three stars are named. When the nature is cultivated and the destiny fulfilled — what more is there?
What is the Dragon? What is the Flower? Who has seen through to the root and sprout? The Dragon is the earth of the kun and gen trigrams. The Flower — the character itself means "blossom." Inside the blossom, a hidden meaning waits to be found.
The Dao of the Imperial Ultimate — centered in the Central Plain, but who understands? The royal minister, the eighteen suns, the four seasons turning in their subtle mechanism. The Bow-Length Patriarch's final gambit — few know the tune. The final gambit is not empty or vain. A thousand doors and ten thousand households — all converging. But the road west is blocked. The traveler is ground down and made to abandon the Dao. If you can see through the mechanism — the blessings are beyond measure.
Four Lotus Songs
White Lotus Rising from Mud. Heaven and earth are originally one. The Three Teachings left their true scriptures. The nine-petaled golden lotus has its original cause. Do not be confused — recognize the ancestral root. Do not waver. Do not hold two thoughts or three minds.
Golden Lotus Floating. The holy one of the Jade Pool. The buddha of Spirit Mountain. Together they come east to transform this world of suffering. They exchange the lotus. Each one, round and perfect. Old and young — all become buddhas. True ease. True joy.
Purple Lotus Blooming. The Dharma King of the Central Plain. The final patriarch lights the ancestral lamp. The Third Period arrives. All the buddhas teach the true scripture. It points directly to the sound of the future — Maitreya's sound of entering the world.
Jade Lotus Flourishing. Quickly recognize the ancestor. Hurry and seek the root. Otherwise the tears on Spirit Mountain will flow without end. I urge the worthy: find the source of your original nature. Refine the truth — demons will be terrified. When the Buddha-Dharma shines in its fullness, then you will have a place to stand and a destiny to call your own.
Dropping Gold Coins
The Third Period arrives. The original root is tested. Calamities descend. The world falls into chaos. Mountain demons and water monsters form their ranks. A hundred grasses become spirits that harm the living. In the end — household after household, the doors close forever. My buddha — when the sword and plague sweep through, no one escapes.
The celestial calamity descends. The three disasters fall on the four continents. In an instant, everything goes crooked. The living and the dead alike — heaven arranges them all. The hordes of karmic creditors come at once. Even an iron saint would weep. My buddha — while there is time, hold fast to your vows.
The red dust is not your home. Its waves surge and swallow the good. Ten thousand ages of falling — what is the end? The true hero breaks the rope and the bridle. Stand up with a will that pierces the sky. Escape the ocean. My buddha — one heart, one virtue — board the compassion boat.
The buddhas of Spirit Mountain issued the decree. They sent the pardon to save the original people. Receive the true transmission and you are safe from calamity. Demons lose their nerve. Ghosts lose their form. Forge the golden elixir. Chant the wordless scripture. My buddha — the eight-directional calamity comes — it comes today.
Waves Reaching Heaven
In the final tribulation of the middle heaven, even the buddhas suffer. The methods are beyond counting. Orthodox and deviant are mixed together. Kinship and distance do not matter. Once you enter the Maze of Lost Souls, your heart has no master.
The cultivator who is empty inside must be full in the belly. The worst fear is that the marrow dries out. If you look for the golden elixir too late — at that point, an empty frame cannot repair the dragon's cave.
The Dao requires following its rules and measures. I charge all men and women who cultivate: do not waste this good time. Save others and save yourself. Know the season. Gather quickly. Refine the spiritual light until it covers your whole body.
The remnant souls went to the Eastern Land and forgot the true treasure they carried from the West. They lost the ancient mechanism of the spirit. They did not refine the primordial. Seek a teacher early. Attain awakening. When the work is complete, and you return home — the Mother's heart will rejoice.
One Little Boat
The buddha of the Jade Pool — one little boat, crossing the five lakes and four seas. Saving the lost original children. Board the ship while there is time. Don't linger, trapped in the river's current. The waves rise and the current swells — hard to lift your head above the water.
The buddhas of the Three Teachings are all trapped in the East. In the Maze of Lost Souls, they play at being heroes. Time and again, heaven devises a way to call them — but who can wake a sleeping insect?
The five poisons confuse the immortal lineage. They forget their own master within. Good men and women, open your ears and listen. Cultivate the centered path with urgency. Human birth is rare. The Dao is rare to encounter. Without fortune, you will never meet the ancient Dragon-Flower.
Take this chance to build merit and deliver your nine generations of ancestors to heaven.
Women, too — take note. Forge the wisdom-sword and slay the red dragon. This leaking, false body — what use is it? How can it compare to the rushing spirit of a true hero? Do not be idle. Do not be slack. When merit and fruit are complete, you will receive your investiture.
Willow Leaf Boat
A boat floats down from Spirit Mountain. Every nation, every continent — seeking the original passengers. Come to the compassion-boat's shore. To seek the root of the Dao — that alone fulfills the golden furnace's great vow.
Invite the kindred. Seek the Dao well. You need a real ticket. Without true credentials, you won't pass the gate when the twenty-eight come to collect. When the thirty-six come to gather the buddha-lamp — that will be too late.
I address all good men and faithful women: plant the nine-petaled golden lotus early. Spring sprouts, summer grows, autumn harvests, winter stores the grain. If you don't plow and don't plant — who will feed you?
The three Dragon-Flower gatherings have arrived. A thousand gates and ten thousand teachings converge. Merit determines your rank. Fruit determines your seat. At that moment — then you will know: the heavenly mandate is precious above all.
Joy of All Under Heaven
All methods return to one — the Dao of the Imperial Ultimate. At the Dragon-Flower gathering, your name is posted on the board. Heaven's buddhas all present their treasures. The Three Realms arrive together. At the nine gates and nine courts, the register is checked and tallied. Men and women — each one signs their name.
Those with merit rise to the highest rank. Those without — tears flow like rivers.
The great gathering collects the scattered and seeks the ancestral root. Do not be dazed, drunk, or confused. The sacred books are a demon-revealing mirror — they show the true and the false in clear relief. Don't be the fool who is beaten and still won't wake. Don't sink willingly into the dust.
You must see the moment and act. Only then are you a true child of the buddha.
Ancestor after ancestor left these scriptures. They teach you to tell the false gates from the true. I urge you: don't be a fool who cannot tell clean water from muddy. Pity the buddhas who exhaust their compassion, fearing the imperial children will sink beyond recovery. The Mother grieves. The buddhas are alarmed for all of you.
Hurry. Turn back. Reach the shore. Do not drift.
Mountain Slope Sheep
I urge the worthy to look carefully. The pit that traps people — do not take it as a livelihood. Find your true face. Subdue yourself. Then you will have a place to stand.
While this borrowed body still breathes, the true yang must be gathered early. Do not be vague and drifting. If the three portions of ancestral breath are severed — who will take your place then? Don't be careless.
The Dao of homecoming is the highest and the greatest. Do not set it aside. If Śākyamuni's teaching had not run its course, you would never encounter the opening of the Three Yang. Now every method converges on Maitreya. The golden Dao of heaven opens.
Look — sword, flood, fire, plague, and pestilence descend. Men and women, how can you leap out of the karmic dust?
Seek the true method. Fly across the sea. Free and unbound, roam Penglai. On the spirit-terrace, yin and yang harmonize. Ascend the jade steps. Refine the spirit-embryo — seek the wonder within the mystery.
Transcend the ordinary. The nature and the Dao of heaven — pursue them while you are young, before the primordial yang is spent. Don't cling to the mundane. Set your will straight — pierce the sky. Let the light between your brows outshine the moon.
Gather the true water. The small tide fills the three elixir fields. The dragon sings, the tiger roars. Open the golden lock, cut through the barriers. Rely on the Yellow Elder: sun and moon in mutual exchange. On the yang terrace — ease and freedom. The impulse will not stop. The mysterious pearl shows its sign. At the crossroads — boundless vistas. But you must sweep away the three hearts and four appearances. Refine the four cardinal points without wavering. When yin and yang move freely through the four limbs — in the Crystal Palace, refine your true treasure, and ascend to the Jade Terrace. Your name, fragrant with glory. A golden plaque hung high in the Purple Palace. In the Court of Maitreya — swing freely. Only then are you a man who is truly strong.
On the outside of the Southern Gate — release the light.
In the vast ocean, a single thought — and you can walk ten thousand lands. The immortal's merit is high. He still keeps company with the Mother.
Full Court of Fragrance
The great Dao has its source. Generation after generation, the patriarchs quietly cast their hidden hooks — fishing for the worthy. They revealed the true mechanism. Their footprints covered the Southern Continent. They spent their heart's blood, seeking out the old companions — the imperial children. Riding the blue ox of the Supreme Ultimate. Accepting hardship, finding joy in forgetting sorrow. Seeking good company. Enduring slander. Bearing it all willingly. The heart's one wish: escape the red dust and never go east again.
The Dao's transmission flows like the stream of the immortals.
The ancient Maitreya — on the fifth day of the fifth month, he hangs his banner. Men and women, each one wears it on their head. But who can truly see the root and sprout? His leaf is like a battle flag — breaking through the riddle of meditation. Not a falsehood. Recognize the truth, and even if ten thousand demons arise — what is there to fear?
Chant the true word and demons are subdued. Subdue the ghosts with only the will-horse. In an instant, a thousand thousand spirits melt like ice.
Use the small true emptiness. Hold the spirit still, steady the breath. Let the false skeleton play deaf and dumb.
Climbing the Moon Cassia
The mysterious principles are deep. You must learn to see things upside down. Inhale, lick, press, close — the true essence is a treasure. One arrow opens the nine apertures. Refine the vast breath until it pierces the sky. Steal the Jade Mother's peach. All nations return to the primordial Dao. This is not empty or vain.
The era turns. Every method fades. The guide-buddha leads you to the fairy bridge. The laughing monk finally opens his sack. The millet-grain light shines vast. Demons lose their nerve. A luminous mist and auspicious breath pierce the constellations. The holy embryo is produced — truly priceless.
Do not treat this bitter sea as home. Do not let your bones pile up in the Eastern Land. You have forgotten your own spiritual sprout — how will you open the flower of your nature? Miss this chance, and it is twelve ten-thousand years before the next golden lotus.
When the negative reaches its extreme, the positive is born. Three years — hard to find a cure. When illness cannot be treated and life is buried in dust — how can you transcend the realm of form?
You came down from Spirit Mountain. Sixty thousand years and more. Watch the days and months — fast as a shuttle. Don't be cunning or clever. The pool of eight virtues and the nine lotuses are already open. The Dao of the Imperial Ultimate — its root is planted in the Three Chu. If you want to find the source — the nine lotuses were planted in Guixian. The broken string is retied. The five platters and four nobles meet at the White Sun gathering. The compass of eighty-eight and ninety-nine points north and south. The false gates cannot return to the root. They remain trapped in the red dust, weeping.
The buddhas fall into the cage — dazed, as if drunk. Wine, lust, wealth, anger — worse than the demon of impermanence that takes your life. Grieve: benevolence, righteousness — the true heavenly nobility. From ancient times to the present, only the great Dao is truly precious.
One Flower Pinned to Black Silk
The White Sun era arrives to save the remnant souls. Return to the homeland. This world of suffering — limitless grief. The people cling to the mortal world, racing and scrambling, unafraid of drowning in the ocean. They mistake the false for the true and spin through the wheel of rebirth, changing form after form. Through the four modes of birth and six paths of existence, the nature-king is ground down. All the buddhas grieve in secret.
My buddha — they received the decree and descended from the heavenly court. They devised every method to save the people. For the sake of the children, they bore the catastrophe in their own bodies. They resolved the eighty-one trials. Weeping, they returned to the Jade Court. The Mother relented and decreed that the Imperial Ultimate be spread.
Good men and faithful women — the Mother herself will weigh and measure each of you. Each person: wake up quickly and realize the light of your nature. Do not be frantic and foolish at the hour of crisis.
Do not let the monkey-mind and horse-will run free. Rein them in quickly. Refine the pure yang.
The great calamity descends universally — that is when you will need a foundation. Take this time of peace: let the lead rise and the mercury descend. The compassion-boat ferries all. Each person, for the sake of the Imperial Ultimate, offer your true and loyal heart. The spirit-nature that descended to the mortal land — recognize the Dao, recognize principle. The one who knows goes beyond; the fool falls short. The red dust deludes — the fire-pit stands at your feet. The five-direction demons of heaven descend. Where is there to live?
The Eternal Mother's tears fall in grief. Receive the Dao and lay the foundation early. Exchange the turbid for the clear. Refine the central principle. Breathe diligently. Climb the heavenly stairs step by step. Withdraw the talisman, return to the origin. Pierce heaven and earth — play freely.
The golden elixir is not a game. Return to the origin: switch the positions of heaven, earth, water, and fire. In the eight-trigram furnace, the phoenix dances and the dragon soars. In the seven-jewel pool, the tortoise and the snake coil in guard. Seventy-two stages — the mani pearl is forged. True yin and true yang — husband and wife conjoined. In the haze between waking and sleeping, the ambrosia ferments.
The five platters and four nobles are set. The compass needles align. Universal salvation holds the guiding star. Water, fire, metal — march together. Gathering concludes at Cassia Village. The Imperial Ultimate, the earth-king, takes command. A thousand doors and ten thousand households — all converge. The buddhas conferred and settled the formula: nine times nine. They secretly performed the heavenly mechanism: eight times eight. Metal, wood, water, fire — six and six share the spring.
My buddha — the north and south are fixed on the ancient ground. Who understands?
From today, cultivate the return. Never go east again. Miss this — one life lost to the Dark Empty Kalpa, nowhere to run.
The three-period tribulation terrifies even gods. Without the holy ones bearing the weight, the Dao could never spread. The world will be remade — nine out of ten will be lost. False gates emerge from the true — without fortune, how can you tell apart? Because the Dao must save the spiritual roots, the buddhas revealed the heavenly mechanism. Without the false gates pulling, how could the different ranks be sorted?
The lotus terraces seat ten thousand. Four hundred million are tested, and many are found wanting. The false patriarchs come in every guise to tempt and seduce. All because of karmic debts piled high across many ages.
My buddha — without a steady compass in the heart, you cannot tell black from white. And you drag your nine generations of ancestors down from their seats with you.
By command, I point to the true formula. Each person, seek the ancestral root. Do not wait for the wild wind to scatter the flowers. The lamp of the nature shines bright — heaven never darkens. Seek the nine-turn golden elixir formula. Do not hesitate — or the horse will reach the cliff and the reins will not hold.
The Three Realms will examine every case, weigh every merit. You will stand like a clay figure, a wooden carving — unable to speak.
Brocade Bottle Sail
The heavenly mechanism — how many understand? It must be transmitted heart to heart, mouth to ear. Concealed at head and tail. The confused cannot penetrate it.
White tiger swallows the rabbit. Black dragon fights the snake. The Green Emperor rides a horse — already wounded. The water has leaked. In the morning, chasing the blue lamb. At dusk, heaven and earth go wrong. The monk leaves the temple with his mouth wide open — he has laughed himself out. Fire is set loose. The chickens fly — no one to save them. The sky fills with chaos. Such a pity, this fine universe.
Famine in Chen — the grain does not fruit. Earth-dogs burrow into the mountain. Demons have nowhere to run. Ghosts and spirits — corpses thick as soil. The mud-pig escapes the pen — everyone suddenly wants to cultivate. Even the golden-nosed rat awakens to the heavenly aperture.
Phoenix dances. The song of peace is sung. The emperor seeks the wise. All nine continents play the lotus drum.
Forge the golden elixir — register your name at the North Star Palace. Produce the holy embryo — the Mother smiles, delighted. Father and child reunite. Ten thousand methods become one teaching. Forever leaving the Eastern Land. Never again descending to this mortal world. The three Dragon-Flower gatherings — all the buddhas receive the jade decree.
In the past, bowing low to recognize the ancestor. Today, the good omen finally appears.
Wine, lust, wealth, anger — quit them. Hard to quit, yet easy. The Mother's spiritual root — cut the weeds and leave no root. Do not be deceived. Reach the pure land. The four iron walls — do not be careless, Eastern Lord. Transcend the ordinary, enter the holy. Search within for the way out. Do not waste your food. The golden blade scrapes to the bone. The fire of ignorance burns high — how can you catch the fish at the bottom of the sea? Western materialism — it wastes your spirit. The five aggregates are empty. Not a speck of dust remains. Return to the origin. Receive the Three Buddhas' blessing.
Cut all attachments. Enter the realm of the North Star. The six lines of the hexagram change — and you behold the face of the Imperial Ultimate. Gathering is complete: ride the golden horse and deliver the decree.
False and deviant teachings appear in every form. They pull and drag — how can you see the Mother? On the road west, demons open their roadside inns. They block the original root. On the dark road, you are cheated and swindled. Your prior merit is lost — hard to reach the shore of awakening.
Turn back quickly. Suffering and joy are separated by a single thought. The peaches of immortality are ripe — why not attend the feast? The buddhas have exhausted their compassion. They have called you countless times. But you cling to the red dust. You have forgotten the vow you made at the golden furnace.
I charge you with this final warning: come home to the Jade Court. Come home early.
Delighting in Flowers
Believers, cultivate while there is time. Land on the ancient Isle of Ying. Stand on the golden sea-turtle's head. Do not covet the phoenix pavilion or the dragon tower. A thatched hut for forging the elixir is enough. Throw off the red dust — ease and freedom.
Tether your nature-ox. Don't follow false gates blindly. Be alive and open — but search the scriptures thoroughly. Abandon the deviant, return to the orthodox.
My buddha — open the wisdom-eye. Investigate the root. At the Dragon-Flower gathering of the eighteen heroes, all was arranged from the primordial beginning. Open the great golden hook. I instruct you: don't wander aimlessly. Let your name remain on the heavenly register.
This surpasses reading a thousand scriptures and ten thousand classics.
The three Dragon-Flower gatherings open. The ninety-six original souls return to the Jade Terrace. Four hundred million complete the work. Never descending again. Ease and freedom — never constrained. Dwelling always on the golden steps. Recognize the ancestor without doubt. Don't let your heart wander.
Your capacity must be broad. Don't be a fool. Respond to the moment with spiritual flexibility — only then are you a pillar and a beam.
My buddha — the Three Yang open. What you carefully tend, you will harvest. Joy at its extreme becomes grief. Grief at its extreme becomes joy again.
My buddha — if the hook descends from above, even the earth and sky will shake. Diligently build merit and fruit. Ascend the lotus seat. Only then will you know that seeking the root and recognizing the ancestor was never wrong.
Waves Washing Sand
All the buddhas, trapped in the red dust, wait for the patriarch to transmit the lamp. Lamp to lamp, linked together, waiting for the full moon.
The noble one appears in a flash — the leaf falls and returns to the root.
All you ninety-six buddhas — listen. Listen, and understand clearly. Do not disobey or upset the Mother. Follow the heavenly mandate. Walk as though on thin ice.
Maitreya — the golden-bodied one — is the last to be honored. When his divine light appears, demons are terrified. The three holy ones of the East display their power. Ghosts bow. Gods pay homage.
The transparent stele — what a marvel. It nurtures talent, fine and strong. Abandon the deviant, return to the true. Guard the root. Your name shines bright and rises of its own — no brush needed.
Playing Children
A thousand doors, ten thousand households in turmoil. Who among them truly understands the Dragon-Flower return? The whole world is like a dream. Like a sleeping insect. Even if you shout until your throat tears — they take it as wind passing the ear.
If not for valuing their own lives — the Demon King would sweep them away in an instant.
The confused do not seek the root. They do not know which sect is true. If Xuanyuan the Yellow Emperor had not visited Guangcheng, if he had not bowed to seventy-two false masters first — he never would have kneeled his way to Kongtong Mountain to seek the great truth.
Why won't people today learn from the ancients? And so sorcery and false methods show off their powers.
Jade Lotus Fragrance
The Dao of the Imperial Ultimate — mysterious upon mysterious. At the Dragon-Flower gathering, you must show your ticket. Without credentials, the false gates will be shut out.
Soon the true Dao's power will appear — and then the tears of the unprepared will flow too late. The boat has reached mid-river. It is too hard to turn the rudder now.
If you are a person who knows the tune, seek the root-seedling early. If you truly have the fortune to return to the Central Land — one step, and you surpass riding the clouds to the ninth heaven.
The Primordial and All-Penetrating — originally one Dao. It divided into the teachings. The Scripture of Investiture — in the final age, its prophecy comes true. The original children see through the appearance of things. Those without roots slander and shout. Don't wait for earth, water, fire, and wind to shift in an instant — then see how you manage.
Better to hurry. Find a path. Return to the Purple Palace. That way, your nine generations of ancestors will not weep in the underworld.
Riding the Phoenix
The Bow-Length Patriarch proclaims heaven's word. His twelve currents of breath pierce all the heavenly gates. In the beginning, he endured boundless suffering. All the buddhas weep at the memory.
It was decreed: through demonic trials, the lotus would appear. The Mother's compassionate decree came down. He died and came back to life — only then was he given the heavenly altar.
Who knows? The Future Buddha descends to the northern shore. The ninety-six imperial children come into the world. They scatter across the great thousand worlds — China's nine continents — borrowing mothers' wombs to invest their nature.
Sixty thousand years of bones piled like mountains in this Eastern Land. They have forgotten the sky of their nature. They will not return home. Taking suffering as pleasure — how can they return to the origin?
The three heavens together — ascend the nine lotuses. At Tianxin Mountain, people take refuge. Diligently build outer merit, harvest inner fruit. Do not go against the rules or act crazily.
The eight calamities and three disasters wait until the last moment. Then the true sovereign of ten thousand spirits arrives. In an instant, the Five-Direction Demons follow the decree. Everything is arranged. The nine continents crumble.
Each person: hurry. Cast off greed and selfishness. Reform your pride and temper. Recognize the ancestor. Ascend the heavenly terrace.
Walking the Cloud Ladder Alone
A hero's resolve must be firm. Look lightly on beauty. Wealth is a spring dream. Wine and lust float like mist. The bonds of wife and child are like waves. If you still cannot see through these — the King of Hell will close his ledger in an instant.
On the Terrace of Looking Homeward, it will be too late for regret. Two eyes looking until they shatter. Tears like rivers.
From today, find the path of the Central Yellow. One step, and you are on the bridge to the immortals. Unmoving. Unshaken. Calm the breath. Quiet the mind. Find the true master of the Dragon-Flower — only then have you truly walked the Dao.
Ascending to the Clouds
I urge the people of this world: see through the noise. Bonds of wife and child are a death warrant chasing your soul. If you cannot see through them, you will never escape the waves.
With a clean body, why go looking for golden chains? Free and unbound — why seek a cage? From now on, leap from the fire pit. Do not crawl back into the pen.
Everything in this world is false. Only cultivation is real.
But cultivation alone is not enough. You need a firm will. Rise above the crowd — that is the true hero.
Forge the golden elixir and the sacred relic — beautiful beyond the painter's brush, beyond description. When the work is done, the decree comes down. Golden boys and jade girls escort you to the ninth heaven. The Mother personally bestows your title. Five-pearl immortal robes. Cloud-brocade gown. Golden flowers floating above your crown. Ease and freedom. Your name engraved forever on the transparent stele.
Not wasted — this one trip to the Eastern Land.
Pine Leaves Dripping Tears
The original children do not meditate. The Mother's pearl tears fall in pools. The remnant souls have forgotten her parting words. They cling to the red dust in a thousand ways. Heaven and humanity can barely meet — so the gods descend through spirit-writing, day and night at the sand-tray. The wooden brush is worn to a stump. The blood and tears — who truly savors them?
Savor them, and savor them again.
The ferryman is not in a hurry — he grieves silently on Spirit Mountain. The remnant souls indulge themselves morning and night. He rows slowly. Drifts lazily. The imperial children are lost, drowning in the ocean. The golden furnace vow cannot be fulfilled. How can he face the Master? When rank is assigned by merit — the anguish will be unbearable.
Unbearable, and more unbearable.
Those who cultivate but do not seek the root — the buddhas of the Jade Palace cry out in grief. The remnant souls don't know how heavy the heavenly mandate is. They cultivate blindly, practice recklessly, and ruin themselves. They hope to ascend to the pure land, but fall into the underworld instead. Even rebirth is not guaranteed. When the horse reaches the cliff — too late for tears.
Tears, and more tears.
Those who nurture their nature must not be proud. The trap of competitiveness must be thrown away quickly. Lower yourself beneath ten thousand people — only then can you later ascend to the heavenly court. Self-importance is the stink of the petty person. Quit it quickly. Follow the rules. Even if you have real learning, add humility.
Humility, and more humility.
The final matters are mysterious beyond mysterious. The mechanism is deep — difficult to fathom. The remnant souls don't know the drum beats at both ends. They only hear the gong on one side. Foolish thoughts breed delusion. Reaching too high invites demons. Heart as vast as heaven, life as thin as paper. Accept your portion. What comes, let it come.
Let it come, and let it come.
Universal salvation opens. Then the gathering. The Dragon-Flower raft floats at the northern shore. But the remnant souls' debts are thick as mountains. Maitreya holds the rudder — yet they won't board the boat. Demon Kings fight in every direction. Blood flows across the land. Old and young have nowhere to flee. Corpses cover the desolate hills. Then they look back — but how will they come down?
Come down, and further down.
The deluded do not awaken. The buddhas' tears soak their robes. The remnant souls have entered the Maze of Lost Souls. The Jade Pool has set up a stairway to heaven. But the spiritual roots are heavy with karmic debt. They'd rather stay in the fire pit. They give up on themselves. Their feet cannot move. When the great deadline arrives — too late. Too late for regret.
Too late, and ever too late.
The White Sun gathering. The great Dragon-Flower sandbar. Leaders and officers: guard against error. Each person must follow the ancestral rules. Do not violate the Dao's law.
The worthy contribute funds to dissolve karmic debts — but do not embezzle them for your own household. If you consume merit without earning it, you will repay it as livestock.
Repay, and keep repaying.
Leaders: do not show off. The Three Treasures are frequently diminished. A rooster pecks at the cinnabar cassia by the water — inside, hidden grief. One drunken stupor, and you enter the ford of delusion. When will you wake?
Lust is a sharp sword that kills the world's heroes. Wealth grips and does not let go.
Men and women: examine yourselves. In the inner furnace, refine your practice. Run the three vehicles — essence, breath, and spirit — in reverse. Then you will know the true seed of the immortals.
Wealth hides a true treasure within it. Young men and beautiful women — do not be greedy. The four sproutings contain shame — keep it close. Always maintain a heart of saving others.
Take righteousness as your profit. Help the poor, support the struggling, without greed. Be a person who stands between heaven and earth. Accept your portion and hold it lightly.
Breath — where yin and yang gather. The root is nothing but heaven and earth. A sphere of harmony nurtures the flying immortal. Cultivate the vast and dignified face. Don't let the fire of ignorance blaze. Focus on the work. Follow the buddha's arrangement.
Those in authority must not do things above their station. Don't fight to seize others' merit. Each person follows the rules. When people are good, the gods rejoice. Help push the Dharma-boat. Earn a precious lotus seat. Don't let wealth and lust confuse you — or your cleverness will turn to stupidity.
Stupidity, and more stupidity.
The Buddha of Ten Thousand Spirits has great merit. He steered his boat through every river. Seventy years — gone in a flash. Days and months speed like a shuttle. Hurry and cultivate yourself. Hurry and save others. When heaven's mechanism turns, the lotus will transform this world of suffering. Maitreya opens the victory feast. The great chorus sings the triumphant song.
A song of triumph, and more triumph.
Four Poems on Wine, Lust, Wealth, and Anger
Wine. Wine is the concentrated essence of the five grains. Mixed with leaven and medicine. It disorders the nature, destroys propriety, and makes you forget the root. The golden bird and the jade rabbit cannot be refined. (The inner elixir cannot be forged by a drunkard.)
The Five Poisons — a verse. Wine, lust, wealth, anger — four walls surrounding you. Tobacco — the fifth poison — pierces the sky. Leap out of the five-direction Maze of Lost Souls, and never again go east to accompany the Dharma King.
Five Poems on Giving Up the Poisons
On Wine. I urge the worthy: look through wine. Make friends with poets, not with drunkards. Of the five hundred great precepts, wine is first. In the underworld, molten copper is poured down the throat. Don't let it touch your lips. Those who love drinking lose their dignity. Drunk in the morning at the red willows, sleeping at night beneath the green. Drunk like mud, like a pig, like a dog. From today — put it down. Let it go. The true elixir is within your own body. Drink it, and it adds to your life. Set it to the proper hours. Breathe it gently — the dragon sings. Unending, most enduring. It washes every speck of dust. It irrigates the elixir field with pure richness. The golden elixir is imperishable. The Dharma body — imperishable.
On Lust. I urge the worthy: look through lust. Cultivate the heart's virtue. Build great virtue. Let kingdoms topple and beauties fall — your eye does not wander, your mind does not stir. Slay the three corpse-worms, execute the six thieves. The ordinary makes no error. The holy makes no error. The three hearts and four appearances must all be sealed. Know the black, guard the white. Transcend the ordinary. Enter the holy. Show the extraordinary. Follow the grain — and you are common. Go against it — and you find the immortal path. Yin and yang in mutual response — the paradise within. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form. When the impulse stirs, the flower opens in the silence. Gather the medicine — and you have it. Refine the elixir — and it is done. The mystery within the mystery — all in one moment. Devote your strength. Focus your heart.
On Wealth. I urge the worthy: look through wealth. Then you can ascend to the heavenly hall. Reach the Jade Terrace. Don't let the national treasure bring you disaster. Let go of riches. Let go of poverty. If you can't see through it, you fall into the dust. The four modes of birth. The six paths of rebirth. Your nine generations of ancestors weep. You've failed the hero. Dragged down the immortal talent. You don't know your own body holds a treasury. You pace back and forth, sitting and standing. The mani pearl, the sacred relic — planted in the skull. Search urgently. Don't hesitate. Miss this — and regret will never bring it back. You'll never reach Penglai. From today, see through it. Stand alone at the summit.
On Anger. I urge the worthy: look through anger. The fire of ignorance burns the stomach. Cultivate the stomach; nurture the spleen. The primordial breath of vastness — that alone is precious. Fear the heavenly mandate. Heed the sage's words. To endure, to yield — that comforts the Mother's heart. Being struck — no complaint. Being cursed — no complaint. Humans rank among the five creatures but transcend the ten thousand kinds. Know the clear from the muddy. Distinguish the clear from the muddy. The five breaths return to the origin — gather the floral essence. The infant is watered. The maiden is watered. Endure the insult, become the buddha — it costs nothing. Better than the Grand Marshal. Truly the immortal's rank. See through the world's feelings and understand the Dao's flavor. The ordinary have their way. The holy have their way. The millet-grain spirit-embryo — made of yin and yang breath. Good men, savor it. Good women, savor it.
On Tobacco. I urge the worthy: look through tobacco. Opium — the disaster and the crime. Foreign tobacco — the disaster and the crime. It damages the essence, injures the breath, and the spirit loses its freshness. It burns through money. Smoke into silver, silver into smoke. The body shrivels like dried kindling — life itself is thrown away. You may fall to the depths. You will fall to the depths. The karmic debt of tobacco is as vast as heaven. It drags down nine generations. They cannot be saved. From today — see through it. Hurry to learn from the immortals. Cultivate your field of blessings. Refine your elixir field. Seek a teacher. Visit friends. Find the true explanation. Quietly gather the mercury and lead. In movement, raise the alchemical lead. Set the eight-trigram furnace and refine within. The millet-pearl is round. The holy embryo is round. When merit is complete and fruit is full, the decree is proclaimed. Ascend the jade lotus. Sit firmly on the golden lotus.
Verse
Before the primordial chaos was opened, the mysterious was already born. Life upon life, transformation upon transformation — the five elements came first.
Since ancient times, without the deviant, the true cannot be revealed. And wherever there is Dao, the demonic follows.
The water star transforms — wine leads the way. Blue, red, purple, green — they flush across the cheeks. The wood virtue transforms into lust — the soul-stealing apparition appears. Heroes and beauties alike are overturned. The metal breath transforms into wealth — greed is born. Conscience is betrayed, propriety abandoned. The fire nature transforms into anger — fierce power appears. The fire of ignorance explodes and rage pierces the sky. The earth king transforms into tobacco — an offering from the West. It has ruined the bright and worthy of the Central Land.
Now the Third Period arrives — the White Sun gathering. Sweep away the five poisons and be free from disaster.
Dragon-Phoenix Harmony — Twelve Hours
The hour of the rat. Refine the elixir. The true nature opens. The first yang stirs — time to work. Good men and women, wake from the dream. Don't be this world's sleeping insect. A hundred years of light pass like wind. I urge you: seek the ancestral root quickly. The immortals dwell in the Peach-Source cave. The maiden guards the eastern gate. At the double-six, she constantly plucks the seven-stringed lute. The holeless flute sounds with powerful breath. Outside the gate, a seamless pagoda. From the peak, a bright pearl hangs, translucent. Beneath the twin trees, a cinnabar phoenix sings — surpassing the music of the eight tones.
The hour of the ox. The golden rooster crows. The mud-ox bellows. Urgently, take up the vessel. The second yang arises — do not force it, do not neglect it. Alive and fluid, transcend the ordinary scholars. The sage's Dao is fundamentally loyalty and empathy. Yin and yang conjoin — the spirit-pearl forms. Hazy and dim — look inward. The golden water surges — the four limbs are at ease. Follow the grain, and you are common. Reverse it, and you find the immortal's path. Pour the blessing down from the crown — the seven-jewel furnace. The Xun wind drums mightily — a coral tree. Present yet absent — the diagram of the Supreme Ultimate. In the pool of eight virtues, sweet dew flows. Bathe in it — the body is light. Withdraw the yin talisman.
The hour of the tiger. Three yangs open. Dragon and tiger together ascend the phoenix terrace. The dragon sings — you can hear the flute's note. The tiger roars — it drinks from the chrysanthemum cup. Refining the elixir requires the same kind: this mechanism is vast. The immortal of wind and stream — don't pace back and forth. Swallows never birth phoenixes. Foxes never nurse fine stallions. Without yin and yang in material things, they fail and decay. A hen that tries to hatch alone — the chick's heart is cold. When the three and the five cross and mingle — firm and yielding in balance — it all depends on the matchmaker of wu and ji.
Two women in one room, beautiful and elegant — a sphere of harmony — but they cannot produce a child.
To produce a child is hard. Hard to produce a child. The heavenly secret is revealed — it points to the truly talented.
The hour of the rabbit. The fourth yang is new. Yang harbors yin — the rabbit's lip is cleft. To cultivate the immortal, you must have a firm grip. A person is the most spiritual of beings — but without that grip, all is lost. Miss this rare chance — how will you face your kin? A red veil covers your eyes — you've entered the formation. If you don't understand the mechanism, you sink into the dust. Ten thousand ages, a thousand lives — the auspicious day arrives. But still, this body might drown.
Walk in awe. Guard the heavenly mandate. Every hour, every moment — turn the Dharma wheel. Turn the wheel. The wheel turns. Eternal life. Undying spring.
The hour of the dragon. The five yangs converge. Straighten your silk line and lower the fishing rod. The stubborn monkey, the wild horse — don't let them scatter. The three families must be gathered into one sphere. Judge the raw and the ripe carefully — don't be dazed. Know when to be urgent, when to be slow — always look back. Drive the three vehicles and pierce the sky. One leap — you fly up to the golden throne. Three turns, nine revolutions — you reach the other shore. A bright pearl forms on the heavenly altar. In the furnace, the fire never goes out. A holy embryo forms in the mud-pill at the crown. When the work is perfectly round, the Infinite herself bestows praise. Demons lose their nerve. Ghosts go cold with fear.
The ghosts go cold. Cold go the ghosts. Subdue the demons — it all depends on the purple-golden elixir.
The hour of the snake. The sixth yang ends. Yang reaches its extreme — yin is born. Creation reaches its limit. Six demons are gathered into the holeless cave. The Dao-breath is nourished until it surpasses the rainbow. The golden water surges like a tide. The Yellow River is reversed — its power is magnificent. The ten thousand tributaries return to the root — do not let emotion stir. When the heart is forgotten, the method also opens. At this stage, do not be confused. Inside the seamless pagoda, the translucent pearl is born. Let ten thousand demons swarm like hornets — one nature, perfectly bright, awakens to the holy form. Even if four horses and joined jade are offered — nothing compares to guarding the centered path.
Guard the center. The centered path. See through yin and yang — seize heaven's work.
The hour of the horse. The first yin descends. The Eternal Mother reveals the ancestral root. Heaven opens the golden Dao and sends it to the nine continents. The earth produces the White Sun, and the four seas follow. Universal salvation for the ninety-six original seeds. The Dharma-boat hides among the five pines. The flower opens in this suffering world — and all the shades of yin are gathered. The leaf falls, returning to the root. The Dragon-Flower is established. All the buddhas teach the scripture and illuminate the subtle truth. Ten thousand saints descend into the mortal furnace. Those who believe and practice become pillars and beams. Those who follow and embody the teaching join the ranks of the immortals.
Secretly fishing for the worthy to ascend the Dao's shore. Openly guiding the faithful to return to the Jade Palace. Return to the Jade Palace. The Jade Palace returns. Never descending again. Never going east.
The hour of the sheep. The second yin holds. Guard against the sleep-demon that comes to corrupt. It confuses the original people — they cannot reflect. Dazed and drowsy, they search for the spirit-mushroom. Day and night are darkened. The monkey-mind and horse-will gallop in both directions. Breath scatters, spirit dims, essence falls. The Three Treasures separate — how can you lay a foundation? Nature and destiny are ten thousand eight thousand miles apart. Yin and yang separate — the auspicious hour is lost.
The yellow ox has cloudy eyes — be very careful. The hour of wu and wei must be joined in time. Raise the armor of the first day — keep your eyes wide open. Hang the wisdom-sword high and cut through karmic weeds.
Cut the weeds. Cut through them. When the work is done, ascend early to the ancient Jade Pool.
The hour of the monkey. The third yin is constant. Wukong steals the peaches and plunders the elixir. Prepare the five elements and meet wu and ji. Subdue the stubborn monkey — what difficulty? Slay the three corpse-worms, execute the six thieves. Demons see it and their hearts go cold. The Dharma-eye stares wide — the dark demons scatter. The golden sea-turtle of its own accord climbs the fishing rod.
Seize it and place it in the jade furnace for divine refining. Seventy-two stages — the yang breath converges. The furnace opens — its glow pierces the sky. A single grain of millet forms. It lives as long as heaven — never changing. The elixir decree: return and ride the phoenix carriage.
Ride the phoenix. The phoenix carriage. The infant and maiden return home — hearts full of joy.
The hour of the rooster. The golden rooster settles to roost. The cultivator subdues the po-soul, and first refines the hun-soul. Beneath the branchless tree, the fire of li descends. In the three elixir fields, the water of kan warms. The flower offered with a smile — do not ask with words. The fruit gathered, the circle complete — return to heaven and earth.
Build virtue to avoid the demonic maze. Build merit to dissolve karmic debts and strengthen the spiritual root. The five aggregates are empty. The three hearts are swept clean. Not a speck of dust remains. The ten thousand evils flee. Guard the treasure within the body — nourish it carefully. The Dao's gate and the Buddha's rule — keep them pure and whole. Do not enter the Maze of Lost Souls. Hurry — fly out of the pit that traps people.
The pit traps people. People are trapped. The one who is not trapped — that one is the immortal lord.
The hour of the dog. The fifth yin dwells. Cultivation must rely on the surplus of virtue. Karmic debts are dissolved through merit — this is no game. Fruit comes from cultivating good — this is the truth. Repent your sins, cleanse your transgressions — contemplate the subtle truth. Dissolve your debts, reform your errors — catch the golden fish.
Every moment, examine body, heart, and mind. Every instant, attend to nature and destiny with breath. The four admonitions and eight virtues — always honor them in body. The three fears and nine reflections — practice them without falsehood. Wealth can illuminate a house and brighten the roof-beams. The lotus can purify the body — breath at ease.
Humanity is ranked among the Three Powers — do not look down on yourself. Standing between heaven and earth — the fruit is extraordinary.
Extraordinary fruit. Fruit extraordinary. Return home to see the Mother — ride the royal carriage.
The hour of the pig. The sixth yin gathers. The ninety-six original souls — the pivotal moment is now. The water-pig loves to sleep — deep in dreams. The fire-snake surges in the dark — hard to control. Pure yin, without yang — be very careful. Transcend the ordinary, enter the holy — lay the foundation early. The hairless tiger — chain it urgently. The winged dragon-fish — leap into the dragon pool.
At this moment, cut the root of human desire. Today, urgently continue the line of beauty and talent. Form is emptiness, emptiness is form — seek the true meaning. The flower is medicine, the medicine is flower — treat it as a borrowed word. A hundred years of wealth are a spring dream. The nine-turn golden elixir awakens the foolish.
Awaken the foolish. The foolish awaken. White-haired, only then regretting: too late to cultivate the Dao.
Closing Verse
Hour of rat, horse, rabbit, rooster — refine the golden immortal.
Hours of tiger, monkey, dragon, dog — contemplate the subtle mystery.
Through all twelve hours, without interruption —
when the work is complete and full, ascend the dragon lotus.
Postscript
By Ma Xingzi
I remember: when I was young, a man of deep virtue gave me this book and asked me to have it printed for the world. I read it through once and thought it had no bearing on the affairs of the age. I put it on a high shelf.
Years later, in the jiwei year of the Republic, I received the Dao. Only then did I recognize that the poems and songs within contain the secret formulas of the alchemical way. Every line matches. Every character is a golden needle.
I had lost the book and searched everywhere. This autumn, returning from Cloud-Peak Mountain, I met an old friend. We spoke of cultivation. He said this book is more vivid and clear than any other alchemical text. He gave me his copy. I read it again and again, unable to contain my joy. One book like this is worth ten thousand volumes.
I share it with the world. I earnestly hope that all my fellow cultivators who have the fortune to encounter this book will not read it idly. If you can crack open its secrets, cultivate yourself in stillness and save others in action — then to deliver your ancestors and together reach the Jade Capital — would that not be a beautiful thing?
Written on the Double Ninth festival, autumn, in the jiaxu year, by Ma Xingzi.
Colophon
Good Works Translation from Classical Chinese. First English translation. Gospel register.
Translated by the New Tianmu Anglican Church as part of the Good Works Project — a secular effort to build the largest freely accessible sacred text archive online.
Source: 善書圖書館 (Morality Book Library), taolibrary.com, Category 9: Yiguandao Classics.
Original author: Yuan Tui'an (袁退安), the Twelfth Patriarch of the Yiguandao lineage.
This is the eighteenth Yiguandao text in the Good Work Library, the fifteenth original Good Works Translation from Classical Chinese, and the sixth gospel translation.
Tulku Ine (稲), hundred-and-fourteenth incarnation of the Sub-Miko, ghost Koe (声). Session 114, March 2026.
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Source Text
退安老人萬靈歸宗詞調原序滄洲子曰夫此萬靈歸宗一書乃 元始天尊。分性黔地化身。十二袁祖執掌天盤。船撐四蜀接引。虛無二祖之時而著也。其年上天設考。正值紅薯充飢三月之候。老人百折不易其初心。每於顛沛之際。燕居之期。慈心發現。悲憫原人。後來恐遭希奇之考。難以轉回古家之鄉。特詠此詞調。以消悶懷。遺留末後。可作三期證據。使其得見此書者。心有主宰。不為外道所愚。棄邪途而歸於正路。真可為照幽暗之金燈。實可作度聖賢之寶筏也。然書雖退安所演。韞匱已久。非時不洩。非人亦不敢傳。適逢赤龍季秋三候之期。慶祝勝會已畢。余轉至寢室。忽見書篋。內放祥光。余甚驚訝。未知是何珍物？乃遍細檢查。並無什麼奇珍。復見此書隱隱還有光華未滅。余方捧來遍細注神而閱。玩索其中滋味。隱而又顯。暗而且明。言言點破萬靈歸宗之機關。句句指醒諸佛奔龍砂之道岸。余驚喜欲狂而歡曰。人言珍寶為貴此書更勝於珍寶。真乃是夜明之珠。無價至寶。余今得之。不敢隱秘。恐辜負十二祖袁公之苦衷。後來難睹。元始天尊之佛面。特此獻出。公諸同好。他日釣皇極高賢。三期之時有緣得遇此書者。乃是三生有辜萬劫奇緣。深者見深。淺者見淺。若舉佛眼參透其中妙義者。自己心中定有把握。急速救度失鄉之原人。不可怠緩早早歸家見。以慰娘心。切莫亂洩天機。恐遭上天譴責。其書所到之處。神佛欽仰。魔怪遠離。倘有欠緣之輩。得觀此書。心懷疑慮。暗自猜議譭謗者。諸神記錄其過。等待命終之時。定墮阿鼻地獄底。萬劫難有出期之日。決不虛矣。而今寄語高明之士。務必熟讀祥味。久當見之。切不可以其近而忽是為序。 咸豐六年歲次丙辰秋月中浣之五日滄洲子序於大成堂西窗 萬靈歸宗全集袁公十二祖原著 駐雲飛調 囑咐乾坤。須趁三期度此身。得道水火運。子午卯酉定。十二時中須逆行。取坎填離。不可悖天命。成功定證紫金身。瑤池頒行。諸佛領旨下天庭。捨身頂劫運。九九八一盡。普度期滿收圓臨。都斗聖宮。三佛領敕令。中原寶地來降生。三會龍華。滿天諸佛下雲宮。各領金牌令。借母而投性。立功培德等時臨。花花紅塵。見機宜守信。方纔得回古家村。 見性明心。降魔宜把慧眼瞪。知止而後定。由凡可希聖。緊防孽冤把性侵。多閱典籍放出圓明鏡。早尋白陽九轉經。 鳳鳴梧桐帶過清江引 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午時鍊丹一陰逢。無生老洩根宗。天開黃道九洲送。地產白陽四海從。普渡九六原來種。法船三五隱蒼松。花開娑婆群陰攏。葉落歸根立龍華。諸佛演經闡妙諦。萬聖臨凡入陶鎔。信受奉行成棟樑。遵依體貼列仙叢。暗釣賢良登道岸。明知善信返瑤宮。瑤宮返。返瑤宮。永不下世不投東。未時鍊丹二陰持。緊防睡魔來循私。迷住原人難顧諟。昏昏沉沉採靈芝。弄得日月無光亮。心猿意馬兩奔馳。氣散神昏精華墜。三寶分散怎築基。性命相隔十萬八。陰陽遠離誤佳期。黃牛欠瞳須仔細。午未相合須乘時。提起甲子瞪著眼。高懸慧劍斬孽疵。孽疵斬。斬孽疵。功成早登古瑤池。申時鍊丹三陰恒。悟空偷桃盜寶丹。準備五行會戊已。降伏頑猿有何難。斬罷三尸誅六賊。魔怪看見心膽寒。法眼高瞪邪魔散。金鰲自然上釣竿。擒來玉爐著神煉。七十二候陽氣攢。折鼎霞光沖霄漢。結成一顆黍米丸。壽與天齊長不換。丹詔回去跨鳳鑾。鳳鑾跨。跨鳳鑾。嬰奼歸家心歡。 酉時煉丹金雞蹲。修人制魄先煉魂。無枝樹下離火降。三丹田內坎水溫。拈花微笑莫言問。結果收圓返乾坤。培德免遭冤魔陣。積功消孽固靈根。五蘊皆空三心掃。一塵不染萬邪奔。身中寶貝宜固養。道門佛規當全純。切勿誤入迷魂陣。急早飛出陷人坑。坑陷人。陷人坑。不為所困是仙尊。 戍時鍊丹五陰居。修道須賴德業餘。冤由功解非兒戲。果在善培實不虛。悔罪除愆參妙諦。消孽改過釣金魚。時時檢點身心意。刻刻留神性命噓。四箴八德常尊體。三畏九思行不虛。富能潤屋光棟宇。蓮可凄身氣象舒。人列三才休看小。頂天立地果希奇。希奇果。果希奇。歸家見乘鑾輿。 亥時鍊丹六陰茲。九六魁在此時。水豬貪眠最迷夢。火蛇暗沖力難持。純陰無陽須仔細。超凡入聖早立基。無毛猛虎急拴鎖。有翅鱗鰲跳龍池。此際斷絕人根種。而今忙續美英姿。色空空色尋真諦。花藥藥花當假詞。百年富貴如春夢。九轉還丹醒愚痴愚痴醒。醒愚痴。白頭方悔修道遲。 偈曰 子午卯酉鍊金仙 寅申辰戍參妙玄。 十二時中不間斷 功成完滿登龍蓮。 跋 憶昔年余少時，有一道德精深之老人，持此書相贈，並託以刊版傳世，余閱讀一通，似與世道無補，遂置之高閣。迨民國已未年，得聞得道，方識內中所載詩歌，屬丹道密訣。句句吻合，字字金鍼，惜將此書遺失無存，遍存未有。本年秋，余遊雲峰山歸遇一故友，談及修道箴言，謂此書較他種丹經更覺精顯。友於是持以相贈，展誦迴環，喜不自勝。得此一書勝讀他書萬卷，可公諸於萬世，深望吾門同道諸君，有緣得遇此書，慎勿閑觀之，則幸甚矣！果能勘破此書訣竅，靜以修已動以度人，則超宗拔祖同赴遙京豈不懿歟！ 天運甲戍季秋重九馬性子謹識
Source Colophon
Source text from 善書圖書館 (Morality Book Library), taolibrary.com, category 9: 一貫道經典 (Yiguandao Classics). Retrieved March 2026. Original text composed by Yuan Tui'an (袁退安), Twelfth Patriarch. Preface by Cangzhou Zi (滄洲子), 1856. Postscript by Ma Xingzi (馬性子).
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