Library

Mr. Wang Shaolong was my teacher. I had known of him since childhood. In the summer of the Renzi year of the Wanli era (1612), introduced by my fellow scholar Zhu Zhongxiu, I carried my book chest to study under Mr. Wang's guidance. We were from the same hometown, and our residences were only a hundred paces apart. Consequently, I attended him morning and night without fail, regardless of wind or rain. Mr. Wang never showed any signs of being too leisurely, comfortable, or tired to teach.

Initially, he instructed me to read the *Ling Shu* (Spiritual Pivot) and *Su Wen* (Basic Questions), followed by the *Ben Cao Jing* (Divine Farmer's Materia Medica), then the *Nan Jing* (Classic of Difficult Issues), subsequently the *Shang Han Lun* (Treatise on Cold Pathogenic Diseases), then the *Jin Gui Yao Lue* (Essential Prescriptions of the Golden Cabinet), and finally the *Mai Jing* (Pulse Classic). He lectured as we read. He did not ascend a podium, nor did he sit in a seat of authority, nor did he adopt the demeanor of a pedant. When his inspiration arose and understanding merged, his spoken words resonated with his mind. Whether discussing opening and closing, ascending and descending, roundness and squareness, movement and stillness, mutual influence between upper and lower parts, or interaction between left and right, when deconstructed there were a thousand variations; when fused, they became one. Rolling and unrolling encompassed the Six Directions, manipulating and playing with the Five Elements truly made it seem like flowers falling naturally in mid-air and wind arising within the lecture hall. Even someone as dull as I felt a subtle urge to advance, experiencing scenes that seemed to shift before and behind. Was Mr. Wang an ordinary person?

Mr. Wang lost his father at a young age and abandoned his studies early. He was indifferent to the principles and meanings of classical texts. Because of this, the family tradition of medicine fell into disrepair. Although he often felt depressed about this, he could only accept it helplessly. Upon reaching adulthood (age twenty), he studied under Master Shao Jue at Tuqiao. The master, pitying his dullness and simplicity, commanded him to seek wisdom. Mr. Wang then vowed to cultivate purity and clarity, practicing for three years as if it were just one day. Suddenly, his mind was like a newly lit lamp, flickering bright and dim. After a long time, he felt the light gradually grow larger and the flame higher. When he tried opening a book, he could understand it, no longer feeling as bewildered as before. From then on, he became brighter each day. Even profound secret texts of Mahayana Buddhism and books with obscure philosophical meanings appeared as clearly as if mountains were burning to illuminate shores, revealing all forms on land and water, with nothing able to escape detection. His mastery of the Dao was thus revered, and his family's reputation was revitalized, further confirming that Mr. Wang was indeed extraordinary.

Mr. Wang passed away at the age of fifty-nine. This occurred in the second month of the Jiazi year of the Tianqi era (1624), which is thirty years ago. His disciples have mostly passed away or scattered. I am now old. I wish to recount his teachings, but I fear I lack the talent of You and Xia (Confucius' disciples Zhi You and Ran Qiu); yet, if I do not record them, I cannot fulfill his aspirations. Coincidentally, in the summer of the Gengyin year (1650), a disciple asked me to explain Cui Shi's *Mai Jue* (Pulse Mantra). The text was indeed comprehensive, so I used it as the foundation, annotating it below with Mr. Wang's usual teachings, and appended prescriptions at the end. I titled it *Yi Deng Xu Yan* (Medical Lamp Continuing the Flame), meaning to trim the wick and continue the flame. If one says this itself is the lamp, how dare I claim such status?

Regarding me, Mr. Wang was my teacher in name, but our affection was like that of father and son. My debt of gratitude is boundless, and I find no way to repay it. I once wished to write a biography to highlight his exceptional talents, but always suffered from a lack of opportunity. Now that this commentary is completed, reviewing it front to back, all content stems from Mr. Wang's own insights, so I dare not arrogantly claim it as my own. I write this preface at the beginning to serve the purpose of a biography.

The unworthy student Pan Ji writes.