He built a grass hut and gazed at the stars by night,
Feeding on the six ethereal energies and drinking the misty dews, he cleansed his True Yang and retained the morning glow.
Gazing up, he contemplated the celestial phenomena of heaven and earth, his heart quiet and his spirit focused in pursuit of the Daoist way.
It was the practice of observing the Dao at Louguan.
The young Taoist, wrapped in the morning dew within the rosy dawn, sat cross-legged at the summit of the towering star-gazing platform, on the eaves of the True Yang Tower. He looked far into the horizon where the golden sun leaped forth.
The eternal flame wheel that crossed the sky, never falling through the ages, cast its golden radiance far and wide, illuminating the earth with its light, tearing through the night, with its first ray of early sunlight—as if a boundless yet weightless hand—grazed the top of the Taoist's head and touched his brow.
