During the reign of King Mu of Zhou, a person from the westernmost country came to visit; he could enter water and fire, and penetrate metal and stone. He could reverse mountains and rivers, and move cities and towns; He could ride on emptiness without falling, and touch solid objects without being harmed. He underwent ten thousand transformations and changes, which were inexhaustible and boundless. Having already changed the forms of objects, he could also alter people's thoughts and minds. King Mu revered him as a deity and treated him as a ruler. He provided for him the royal sleeping quarters, presented to him three sacrificial animals as offerings, and selected female musicians to entertain him. The transformed being considered King Mu's palace humble and unfit to dwell in, the king's food foul and infested with insects and thus unfit to eat, and the king's concubines smelly and repulsive and thus unfit to be close to. King Mu then built for him a new palace. The labor of earth and wood. The color of ochre and white plaster was applied without leaving any flaw; no artistry was left unexhibited. Five granaries were emptied, and only then was the terrace completed. It rose a thousand ren in height, overlooking the southern end of the capital, and was named Zhongtian Zhi Tai, or "The Terrace of Mid-Heaven." They selected young maidens from the states of Zheng and Wei, who were graceful and delicate, applied fragrant cosmetics, arched their eyebrows neatly, adorned themselves with hairpins and earrings, and dressed in fine Axī silk. They wore flowing robes of Qi-made satin. They powdered their faces white and darkened their eyebrows, wearing jade pendants and rings. They filled the place with fragrant zhi and ru, and played the musical pieces "Chengyun," "Liuying," "Jiu Shao," and "Chen Lu" to entertain them. They presented robes of jade every month, and recommended food made from jade every day. The transformed being still seemed dissatisfied, but eventually came to visit them. After staying for only a short while, he paid homage to the king and traveled with him together. King Mu took hold of the transformed being's sleeve, and they ascended upward until they stopped at the middle of heaven. They arrived at the palace of the transformed being. The transformed being's palace was constructed with gold and silver, adorned with pearls and jade; It rose above the clouds and rain, so high that one could not see its base, appearing like a dense mass of clouds when viewed from below. What the eyes saw and ears heard, what the nose inhaled and mouth tasted, were all unlike anything found among mortals. King Mu truly believed it to be Qingdu, Zwei, Juntian, Guangle—the abode of the Emperor. Looking down from above, King Mu saw that his own palaces and pavilions appeared like heaps of rubble and piles of dry grass. King Mu had lived there for several decades without thinking about his kingdom at all. The transformed being once again paid homage to King Mu and traveled with him, and wherever they went, looking up one could not see the sun or moon, and looking down one could not see rivers or seas. The light and shadows illuminated everything so intensely that King Mu became dazzled and unable to see clearly; The sounds coming from all directions confused King Mu's ears, leaving him unable to discern them. All his bones and internal organs trembled and could not remain steady. His mind was bewildered and his spirit lost, so he pleaded with the transformed being to take him back. The transformed being transported him back, and King Mu felt as if he had fallen from emptiness. When he awoke, the place where he sat was still the same as before, and his attendants were still the same people as before. Looking ahead, the wine had not yet settled, and the dishes had not yet grown cold. King Mu asked where he had come from. His attendants replied, "Your Majesty was merely absent-minded." Because of this, King Mu lost himself for three months before recovering. He then asked again about the transformed being. The transformed being said, "I traveled with Your Majesty in spirit; how could my body have moved?" Moreover, what was the difference between where I dwelled before and Your Majesty's palace? And as for my previous travels, how were they different from Your Majesty's gardens? King Mu often suspected that he had momentarily vanished. The extremes of transformation, the intervals between slow and rapid change—can they ever be fully imitated? King Mu was greatly pleased. He no longer concerned himself with state affairs, nor did he take pleasure in his ministers and concubines; instead, he indulged freely in distant travels. He ordered his chariot drawn by the Eight Steeds: on the right side of the central pair were Huajiao and Lu'er, while on the left were Chiji and Baiyuan. The main carriage was driven by Zhao Fu with Yizhong as the attendant to the right. For the secondary carriage, the right front horse was Quhuang and the left front was Yu Lun; the left rear horse was Daoli and the right rear was Shanzi. The secondary carriage was led by Bai Tian, with Canbai as the driver and Bunong as the attendant on the right. They drove a thousand li in haste until they arrived at the country of Jusou Shi. The ruler of Jusoushi then presented the blood of a white crane for King Mu to drink, and provided fresh milk from cows and horses to wash King Mu's feet as well as those of the two charioteers. After drinking, they continued their journey and spent the night at the foot of Kunlun Mountain, on the southern bank of the Chishui River. On another day they ascended to a place on Kunlun Mountain, to view the palace of Huangdi and then sealed it as a legacy for future generations. They then became guests of the Queen Mother of Heaven and were entertained with wine at the Pool of Jade. The Queen Mother of Heaven sang a song for King Mu, who responded in harmony; their words were sorrowful and moving. They then observed the place where the sun set, realizing that it traveled ten thousand li in a single day. King Mu sighed and said, "Ah! I, as a single ruler, have not been sufficient in virtue yet indulged in pleasure; will future generations count and follow my mistakes?" How like a divine being was King Mu! King Mu could fully indulge in the pleasures of his lifetime, yet it still took a hundred years for him to pass away; the world regarded this as an ascent to immortality. 

Lao Chengzi studied illusion under Master Yin Wen, but after three years, he was not told anything. Lao Chengzi asked for an explanation of his faults and requested to withdraw. Master Yin Wen bowed and led Lao Chengzi into the room, dismissed those around them, and said to him: "In the past, when Lao Dan traveled westward, he looked back and told me: 'The breath of life, the forms and appearances of things—all are illusions.' What originates from creation and transformation, what is changed by yin and yang—that is called life, that is called death. To comprehend the patterns of existence and grasp transformation, to shift with changing forms—that is called change, that is called illusion. The creator's artistry is subtle, his work profound—truly difficult to exhaust or bring to an end. Those who follow forms display their skill prominently. Their work is shallow, so whatever arises vanishes just as quickly. Only when one understands that illusion and transformation are no different from life and death can they be taught the art of illusion. "You and I are also illusions; what is there to learn?" Lao Chengzi returned, reflected deeply on Master Yin Wen's words for three months, and thus came to master the ability to control life and death at will, and could manipulate the four seasons as he pleased; he could summon thunder in winter and create ice in summer; things that flew became things that ran, and things that ran became things that flew. He never recorded his techniques in writing throughout his life; thus, the world has no record of them. Zi Liezi said: "Those who are skilled in transformation practice a subtle and ordinary path, and their achievements blend with those of common people. The virtue of the Five Emperors, the accomplishments of the Three Kings—these were not necessarily entirely achieved through wisdom and valor; some may have been realized through transformation. Who can truly fathom this?!"

There are eight signs of wakefulness, and six omens of dreaming. What are the Eight Signs? One is "gu" (habit), two is "wei" (action), three is "de" (gain), four is "sang" (loss), five is "ai" (grief), six is "le" (joy), seven is "sheng" (life), eight is "si" (death). These Eight Signs are what the physical form encounters. What are the Six Omens? One is Zhengmeng (the upright dream), two is Yumeng (the confused dream), three is Simeng (the thinking dream), four is Wumeng (the waking dream), five is Ximeng (the joyful dream), six is Jumeng (the fearful dream). These six are what the spirit experiences. Those who do not understand the origin of emotional and transformative changes will be confused when events occur, unsure of their causes; those who recognize where such changes arise from will know the reasons behind them when events happen. Knowing the reason behind things means there is nothing to be perplexed about. The waxing and waning, increase and decrease of a single entity are all connected with heaven and earth, corresponding to the categories of things in the world. Therefore, when yin energy is strong, one dreams of crossing great waters and feels fear; When yang energy is strong, one dreams of walking through a great fire and being burned; When both yin and yang energies are strong, one dreams of life and death. If one is very full after eating, they dream of giving; if extremely hungry, they dream of taking. Therefore, those who suffer from a floating and empty condition in their illness dream of rising upward; Those who suffer from a sinking and solid condition in their illness dream of drowning. Sleeping with a belt tied around the waist causes one to dream of snakes; If a flying bird carries away one's hair, one dreams of flying. Before falling ill with yin-related ailments, one dreams of fire; before becoming seriously ill, one dreams of eating. Those who drink wine may dream of sorrow; those who sing and dance may dream of weeping. Zi Liezi said: "When the spirit meets something, it becomes a dream; when the body encounters something, it becomes an event." Therefore, thoughts during the day become dreams at night—what the spirit and form encounter. Thus, when the spirit is focused and undisturbed, imagined dreams naturally vanish. To trust wakefulness without speaking, to trust dreaming without understanding—that is the coming and going of transformation among things. The sages of old, when awake, forgot themselves; when sleeping, they did not dream—how nearly empty and true were their words?" 1. 怛 : Originally read: "□". 底本該字不完整，據《正統道臧》本補。

To the southern corner of the westernmost region there was a country, whose borders could not be determined; it was called Gumang Guo. The yin and yang energies did not intermingle there, so there was no distinction between cold and heat; The light of the sun and moon did not reach it, so there was no distinction between day and night. Its people neither ate nor wore clothes but slept a great deal. They would sleep for fifty days and then wake up once, regarding what they had done in their dreams as real, and what they saw when awake as illusory. The four seas called the central country "Zhongyang Zhi Guo," which spanned north and south of the Yellow River, east and west across Mount Dai, covering more than ten thousand li. Its careful regulation of yin and yang resulted in alternating cold and heat; Its clear discernment between dusk and dawn resulted in the alternation of day and night. Its people had both wisdom and foolishness. All things flourished, and there were many talents and skills in various fields. There were rulers and ministers governing together, with rites and laws upholding order. What they did could not be counted or described. They alternated between waking and sleeping, regarding what was done while awake as real, and what was seen in dreams as illusory. To the northern corner of the easternmost region there was a country called Fulu Guo. The air and climate of its land were always warm; the lingering light of the sun and moon illuminated it, yet no good crops grew there. Its people ate roots of grass and fruits from water plants, and did not know how to cook food with fire. Their nature was fierce and bold; the strong and weak relied on each other, valuing victory but not upholding righteousness; They moved about quickly, resting little, always awake and never sleeping.

The Yishi family of the Zhou dynasty greatly expanded their wealth; those who served them in labor rushed about from early morning until dusk without rest. There was an old laborer whose strength had been exhausted, yet he was made to work even more diligently. During the day he groaned and went about his tasks, and at night he became drowsy and fell into a deep sleep. His spirit was weary and scattered, so that every night he dreamed of being a ruler of a state. He dwelled above the people, overseeing all affairs of the entire country. He roamed through palaces and pavilions at leisure, indulging in whatever he desired; his joy was immeasurable. When awake, he returned to his labor. Someone comforted the laborer for his diligence, and the laborer said: "A person's life spans a hundred years, with day and night each taking up half. I spend my days as a servant or slave, which is indeed bitter; At night I become a ruler, and the joy is immeasurable. What have I to complain about?" The Yishi family was preoccupied with worldly affairs, deeply concerned about their family's legacy; both mind and body were exhausted, so at night they too became drowsy and slept. Every night he dreamed of being a servant, running about and performing labor, doing everything without exception; He was frequently scolded and beaten with sticks—there was no punishment that did not come to him. While asleep, he muttered and groaned in his sleep, until the breath left his body entirely. The Yishi family became ill from this, and consulted their friend about it. The friend said: "Your position is sufficient to bring honor to your person, and your wealth is more than enough; you are far superior to others. To dream at night of being a servant is the recurrence of hardship and ease, a common cycle in numbers. If you wish to have both wakefulness and dreams combined, could that possibly be achieved?" The Yishi family heard their friend's words, relaxed the workload of their laborers, and reduced their own burdens of thought; as a result, their illness gradually improved.

A man from Zheng who was gathering firewood in the wild encountered a startled deer; he chased and struck it, killing it. Afraid that others might see it, he quickly hid the deer in a ditch, covered it with banana leaves, and was overjoyed. Soon after, he forgot where he had hidden it, and so he came to believe that the whole thing had been a dream. He walked along the road singing about the event. A passerby who heard of it used his words to find and take the deer. Having returned home, he told his wife: "Earlier, the woodcutter dreamed of catching a deer but did not know where it was; I have now found it—then he was truly just dreaming." ?" His wife said: "Are you going to claim that the dreamer saw the woodcutter obtaining a deer? "Was there really such a woodcutter?" "Now that you have truly found the deer, is then your dream real?" The man said: "I have the deer in my possession; what need do I have to know whether it was his dream or mine?" When the woodcutter returned home, he did not cease to lament losing the deer; that night, he truly dreamed of the place where he had hidden it and also dreamed of the one who had found it. At dawn, following what he had dreamed, he searched for it and found it. They then quarreled over it and took the matter to a judge. The judge said: "If you truly found the deer at first, yet called it a dream; To have truly dreamed of obtaining the deer and falsely claimed it as reality— He who actually took your deer is now disputing with you over it. His wife further said: "Both of you claimed to have dreamed about the other's deer; in truth, no one actually obtained the deer." Since both of you now claim possession of this deer, please divide it equally between the two of you." The case was reported to Duke Zheng. Duke Zheng said: "Ah! Is the judge going to divide another man's deer according to dreams?" The case was referred to the state prime minister. The prime minister said: "Whether something is a dream or not, I am unable to determine. To distinguish between wakefulness and dreaming, only Huangdi and Kong Qiu are capable. Now that Huangdi and Kong Qiu have passed away, who can determine it?" And for now, you may follow the judge's decision."

In Song Yangli there was a man named Huazi, who in his middle age fell ill with forgetfulness; he would take something in the morning and forget it by evening, and give something in the evening only to forget it by morning. When walking on the road, he forgot how to walk; when sitting at home, he forgot that he was seated; He did not recognize what had come before, and could not know what was happening now. The whole household was distressed by him. He consulted a diviner, but no oracle could be read; He visited a shaman and prayed for relief, but the condition was not stopped; He consulted physicians and underwent treatment, but the illness did not cease. There was a Confucian scholar from Lu who volunteered to claim he could cure him; the wife and children of Huazi offered half their property in exchange for his remedy. The Confucian scholar said: "This illness is certainly not something that can be divined by hexagrams, nor cured through prayers or sacrifices, nor treated with medicine or stones. I shall try to transform his mind and change his thoughts; perhaps then he will recover!" He first exposed him to the cold and watched as he sought for clothes; then left him hungry so that he would seek food; He then placed him in darkness, causing him to seek for light. The Confucian scholar joyfully told his son: "His illness can be cured. Yet my method is a closely guarded secret passed down through generations, and I do not share it with others." "Please remove everyone from the room; let him stay alone in this chamber for seven days." They followed his instructions. No one knew what he did, yet the illness that had plagued him for many years was completely cured in a single day. After Huazi recovered his senses, he became greatly enraged; he cast out his wife and punished his children, took up a halberd, and chased after the Confucian scholar. The people of Song arrested him and asked for an explanation of what had happened. Huazi said: "In the past, when I was forgetful, my mind was empty and unaware of whether heaven and earth existed or not. Now that I suddenly remember, the past several decades have come rushing back—memories of life and death, gains and losses, sorrow and joy, love and hatred—countless thoughts arise in confusion. I fear that the chaos of life and death, gain and loss, sorrow and joy, love and hate in the years to come will disturb my mind just as they do now. Can I not regain for a moment this state of forgetfulness?" Zigong heard about it and found it strange, so he reported it to Confucius. Confucius said: "This is beyond your understanding!" He turned and told Yan Hui to record it.

A man from the Qin state surnamed Peng had a son who was intelligent when young, but as he grew older, he developed an illness of confusion and bewilderment. He heard singing and thought it was weeping, saw white as black, smelled fragrance but thought it decayed, found sweetness bitter, and considered wrong to be right. Wherever his mind wandered, all things—sky, earth, directions, water, fire, cold, and heat—were inverted and confused. Yang Shi told his father: "There are many learned men in Lu who possess skills and arts; perhaps they can cure him?" Why don't you go consult them? His father went to Lu, passed through Chen, and met Lao Dan. He then informed him of his son's condition. Lao Dan said: "How can you know that your son is confused?" All the people of today are confused by right and wrong, and blinded by gains and losses. Many suffer from this same illness; thus, no one is truly aware of it. One person's confusion is not enough to shake an entire family; one family's confusion is not enough to overturn an entire village; one village's confusion is not enough to topple an entire state; one state's confusion is not enough to destabilize the whole world; If all under heaven are lost in confusion, who could possibly tip the balance? Suppose that all people throughout the world were as confused as your son—if that were the case, you yourself would be the one who is lost in confusion. Who could possibly determine what is right or wrong among sorrow and joy, sounds and colors, scents and flavors? Moreover, my own words may not be free of confusion; how much less so the learned men of Lu, who are merely messengers of confusion—how could they possibly dispel another's bewilderment? Do not waste your provisions in honor of me; it would be better for you to return quickly." 

A man born in Yan, raised in Chu, and when he grew old returned to his native country. He passed through the Jin state, and a fellow traveler deceived him, pointing at a city and saying: "This is the city of Yan." The man turned pale and changed expression. He pointed to a shrine and said: "This is the ancestral shrine of your hometown." The man sighed deeply. He pointed to a house and said: "This is the home of your ancestors." The man wept quietly. He pointed to a mound and said: "This is the burial mound of your ancestors." The man could not restrain his weeping. The fellow traveler burst into a loud laugh and said: "I was deceiving you earlier; this is merely the Jin state." The man felt greatly ashamed. When he finally arrived in Yan and saw the real city and ancestral shrine of the State of Yan, and truly beheld his ancestors' home and burial mounds, his sorrow was greatly diminished.