Blog

I have to say it plainly: I quit.The 21-day fasting journey I had prepared for, livestreamed, and declared as my challenge to the world ended not with a blaze of triumph, but with the quiet clatter of dishes in a café and the weight of unfinished plates. Day five — that was as far as I went.When I began, I told myself I was ready. The plan was clear: broadcast the process, share my reflections, inspire others, and prove that fasting could be more than starvation — it could be rhythm, medicine, and spirit discipline. I imagined an audience watching, learning, perhaps even cheering me on. I imagined myself crossing the threshold of day twenty-one with a kind of radiant victory.But fasting has a way of cutting through illusions, faster than food ever could.My ExcusesThree reasons — or, more honestly, three excuses — broke my fast.First excuse: no audience. I started livestreaming with expectation. I thought people would tune in, maybe dozens, maybe hundreds. Instead, the digital silence mocked me. I stared at the empty viewer count and felt like a fool talking to no one. A fast without witness felt invisible, and the ego in me revolted. “What’s the point,” I asked, “if no one sees?” I had tied my commitment to attention, and when attention failed, my resolve weakened.Second excuse: a business lunch. An “important meeting,” I told myself. The truth is, I could have sipped water and explained. I could have rescheduled. But business provided a noble-sounding reason to compromise. I told myself, “Networking matters. Relationships matter. This is bigger than one day of fasting.” But really, I wanted the out. I wanted the meal. I wrapped my hunger in professionalism and wore it as justification.Third excuse: family. My daughter’s farewell dinner before she moved into her university dormitory. This one cut deepest. How could I sit at the table, refusing the food, while she prepared to leave home? How could I let ritual and discipline overshadow one of the last meals we would share as a family before she stepped into her own life? Love trumped fasting. Or maybe I let sentimentality become a loophole. Either way, I ate.I didn’t order my own dish at the café. I told myself I was still “half-fasting.” But when my daughter and her mother didn’t finish their plates, I could not bear to see the food wasted. I cleaned the dishes — not with soap and water, but with my mouth. The Daoist alchemist reduced to a dishwasher of leftovers.The Hard TruthIt is hard to fast.That’s the simple truth people don’t like to admit. Books make it sound like transcendence. Instagram makes it look like glowing eyes and monk-like willpower. But fasting is the grinding encounter with your own excuses, your own weakness, your own boredom. It is the humbling confrontation with hunger and the voice inside that whispers, “Just this once, it won’t matter.”On day five, that voice won.And here I am, confessing.The Context That StingsThis is not my first encounter with fasting. For more than a decade I have lived by intermittent fasting. I do not eat before noon. Many days, I eat only one meal. I have alternated rhythms of daily discipline that most people would call extreme. My body knows the pattern of emptiness. My spirit is familiar with the clarity that comes when the stomach is silent.And yet, that decade of practice did not save me on day five of a water-only fast. The lesson is humbling: discipline in one arena does not guarantee discipline in another. A man who can skip breakfast for ten years may still falter when asked to skip it for twenty-one days in a row.This contrast matters. It shows me that mastery is not a trophy to be carried forever. It must be renewed with each challenge. My years of intermittent fasting are real — but they did not grant me immunity to the fear, the excuses, or the sentimentality that ended this longer fast.The Shame and the LessonI could dress this confession up. I could say that five days is still impressive. That most people cannot last past twenty-four hours. That I demonstrated discipline even in breaking. But that would only be ego trying to salvage a trophy from failure.The truth is simpler: I failed at what I said I would do.And yet, here lies the paradox: fasting is not just about food. It is about truth. It is about bringing into the open the little lies and excuses we use to bend reality to our comfort. By quitting, by cleaning the plates, I revealed my attachments: to audience, to business, to family rituals, to food itself. Fasting stripped me down — not into perfection, but into confession.Shame is heavy, yes. But shame is also a teacher. It burns the illusion that I am already beyond hunger. It exposes the pride that wanted an audience. It reminds me that spiritual work is not about looking strong but about facing where I am weak. Daoist ReflectionIn Daoism, the path is not linear victory. It is rhythm. Expansion and contraction. Advance and retreat. The sage does not boast, “I never fall.” The sage says, “When I fall, I return.”What is Wu Wei — effortless action — in this context? It is not gritting teeth through 21 days just to prove a point. It is aligning with the real rhythm of my body, my family, my life. Maybe the lesson was not in completing the fast, but in failing honestly, in confessing openly.My daughter’s farewell dinner was real. The feeling of cleaning those plates was real. The sting of shame the morning after was real. The Dao moves through that too.Starting AgainSo, what now?I do not declare another 21-day fast tomorrow. That would only be my pride trying to erase the bruise. Instead, I confess. I stop. I breathe. I reset. Maybe the next fast will be seven days. Maybe it will be private, without cameras or livestreams. Maybe it will succeed. Maybe it will fail again.But I know this: every broken fast teaches me more than any perfect fast would. Every confession strips me of ego and leaves me closer to truth.The dishes are clean. My stomach is not empty. My spirit is humbled. And tomorrow, I will wake up again, not as the man who conquered fasting, but as the man who dares to confess his failure in public.I confess, I reset, I continue.

Confession: I Quit My 21-Day Fast on Day Five

Start Time: August 22, 2025, 23:00 — Zi Hour Starting Weight: 129.9 lbs Blood Pressure: 120/70Tonight, I step into the quiet corridor that will stretch for 21 days. No more “preparation” — the fast is real now. I begin at the Zi Hour, the very first of the twelve double-hours in the Daoist day, when midnight has just opened the gate from Yin into the first stirrings of Yang.In the Daoist calendar, this is not just midnight — it’s the rebirth point of the entire day. The Kidneys, storehouse of Yuan Qi (original life force), are at their peak. To start now is to plant my intention directly into the root system of my body’s energy, letting it germinate in stillness before the light comes.This isn’t only about food — it’s about a reset that will work on the body, the emotions, and the spirit.&nbsp; Why I Fast Over the years, I’ve learned that fasting is less about subtraction and more about revelation. When you stop feeding constantly, you discover:What was driving you to eat. What your body does when it’s not digesting. What rises up when silence replaces the usual noise of meals and snacks. I’ve done shorter fasts before — three days, five days, ten days — but twenty-one days is a different territory. It’s long enough for the body to dismantle old patterns, not just physically, but hormonally, mentally, and spiritually.For me, there are three purposes this time:Physical Renewal — allowing autophagy to clear out damaged cells, giving my organs a deep rest, and moving toward my healthiest, lightest self without crash diets or extremes. Emotional Clarity — seeing how much of my eating has been about comfort, reward, or habit, and learning to meet those needs without food. Spiritual Alignment — using the fasting state as a still, open space for cultivation, meditation, and inner alchemy. &nbsp; The Power of the Zi Hour Start Most people choose a convenient morning to start fasting. I chose midnight — specifically 23:00 on August 22 — because in the Daoist system of Zi Wu Liu Zhu (midday-midnight flow), this is when the Kidney meridian is strongest.The Kidneys in Daoist medicine are not just physical organs. They are the root of vitality, the “Gate of Life,” and the wellspring of your inherited essence (Jing). Starting here sends a signal to the deepest layers of the body:“I’m beginning something new. I’m returning to the root.”It’s also a subtle shift in the psychology of fasting. By starting in the middle of the night, I’ve already gone hours without eating since dinner — the first leg of the fast feels effortless, and I wake up already in motion, instead of waking up to the “first day struggle.”&nbsp; The Numbers Today I like to anchor the journey in something measurable.Weight: 129.9 lbs Blood Pressure: 120/70 — a sign my cardiovascular system is balanced at baseline. These are not vanity numbers — they’re waypoints. Over 21 days, my body will change, but more importantly, the meaning of these numbers will change. I’m not looking for the lowest possible weight. I’m looking for the place where the body feels light, strong, and at ease — and where the numbers are a reflection, not an obsession.&nbsp; The First Night’s Feel As I write this, my stomach is calm. There’s no panic, no desperate craving. I’ve been tapering stimulants, no caffeine to avoid the sharp headaches that can come when fasting meets withdrawal.There’s a stillness in the house. The world outside is already in Yin — quiet streets, soft darkness — and inside, I’m choosing to hold that same energy. The first hours of a fast aren’t about heroics. They’re about slipping gently into the current, not thrashing against it.&nbsp; What the Next 21 Days Will Bring I’ve broken the journey into three broad arcs, knowing the body and mind have their own rhythm in fasting:Days 1–3: The ShiftGlycogen stores empty. Body switches from burning sugar to burning fat. Mental patterns around eating begin to loosen. Days 4–10: The DeepeningEnergy stabilizes. Hunger signals diminish. Emotional layers start to surface — this is where meditation becomes the real work. Days 11–21: The Inner WorkBody is fully in repair mode. Clarity peaks. Spiritual practice becomes richer; distractions fade. &nbsp; Daily Check-In Ritual Every day, I’ll note:Weight and blood pressure. Physical sensations (energy, hunger, any discomfort). Emotional tone. Meditation quality. Not to obsess — but to track the arc of change. It’s easy to forget how you felt on day 2 when you’re on day 15. The log keeps the invisible visible.&nbsp; Guardrails for the Journey This isn’t a punishment, nor a reckless experiment. There are guardrails:Hydration: Clean water, herbal infusions, and mineral support. Rest: Sleep is non-negotiable — fasting without rest is like trying to heal with the bandage still off. Movement: Gentle walking, qigong, stretching — no overtraining. Self-Observation: If I see warning signs (dizziness, severe weakness, mental confusion), I will act, not push blindly. &nbsp; Why Share This Publicly Fasting is both private and universal. My experience is mine alone — my body, my mind, my spirit — but the themes it touches are human: discipline, letting go, renewal.By sharing this daily, I’m making a pact — not just with myself, but with those of you who read this — that I will stay the course, not out of stubborn pride, but out of respect for the opportunity this fast represents.And maybe, in following along, you’ll see echoes of your own patterns with food, energy, or rest — and feel inspired to try a reset of your own, in your own way.&nbsp; Closing Thought for Day 1 The first day of a fast is not the day of great triumph — it’s the day of quiet beginnings. Tonight, at Zi Hour, I crossed a threshold that doesn’t announce itself with fanfare. It’s a simple thing: no more food, for now. But behind that simple act is a long lineage of seekers, healers, and cultivators who understood that fasting is not about emptiness — it’s about space.Space for the body to heal. Space for the mind to rest. Space for the spirit to speak.As I close my eyes tonight, I imagine a single seed planted in the dark soil of the Kidney’s realm, hidden under the midnight earth. Over the next 21 days, that seed will sprout, grow, and reach toward the light.I’ll meet it there.

Day 1 — Entering the Gate: My 21-Day Fasting Journey Begins

The old masters said: “True cultivation is not hidden away in the mountains, but in every breath, in every gesture.”Many people think that spiritual practice only happens in meditation halls, during chanting, or in the solitude of retreat. But in truth, every moment of daily life can be a gateway into the Dao. Visualization — or cunxiang in Daoist language — is an ancient method of inner contemplation.Its essence is simple yet profound:Use intention to guide the breath, use the breath to guide the body, and let mind and Heaven move as one.In this article, I’ll guide you through ways to bring visualization into the most ordinary moments — washing, eating, breathing, walking, sleeping — so that each act becomes a ritual of purification, nourishment, and unity.1. Washing — Cleansing Not Only the Skin, but Lifetimes of DustWhen you turn on the tap and let the water run over your hands, don’t treat it as just a physical rinse.Close your eyes for a moment and imagine:This water is not ordinary — it is sweet dew from Heaven, a merging of cloud mist and thunder, carrying both gentleness and power.As you rub your hands together, see in your mind’s eye streams of grey or black dust flowing out from your pores — not just the dirt of today, but the fatigue you’ve absorbed from others, the invisible pollution of the city, the heaviness of old resentments.Go deeper still — let it be the debts and karmic knots from many lives, unfulfilled promises, lingering grief. Watch them dissolve into the water and spiral down the drain, carried deep into the earth where the Mother transforms them into new life. When you shower, expand this visualization to your whole body —every drop of water is a bead of light, flowing down from your hair, across your shoulders, along your back, over your legs, washing away not just what’s on the skin but the weight you’ve been carrying in your spirit. When the water stops, you feel lighter — not just clean, but renewed. Your soul has been polished.2. Eating — Feeding Not Only the Body, but All BeingsBefore your first bite, pause.Look at the food and silently thank everything that made it possible: the sun, the rain, the soil, the farmer, the cook, the unseen hands that brought it to you.As you chew, visualize:I am not only feeding this physical body — I am feeding every single cell.Each bite transforms into countless sparks of light, flowing into your blood, nourishing each organ, every meridian, every fingertip and toe.Then expand your intention outward —this meal is not only for me, but for the beings who share my body:the beneficial bacteria in my gut, the protective spirits that guard me, the subtle presences around me.Beyond that, may the nourishment reach all those who are hungry — in body or in spirit — throughout the world.3. Breathing — Breathing with the UniverseSit or stand anywhere. Close your eyes. Take a breath.Imagine that you are not breathing alone — your breath is in rhythm with the vast pulse of the cosmos:galaxies expanding and contracting, tides rising and falling, the silent inhale and exhale of the stars.When you inhale, the pure light of Heaven and Earth enters through your nose, travels down your airways, and settles in your lower dantian.When you exhale, you release not only carbon dioxide but clouds of worry, pain, and fatigue — transformed into fragrance, into nectar, into blessings that return to the universe and nourish all beings.With time, you will realize:Breathing is no longer just a physiological reflex — it becomes a mutual offering between you and the cosmos, a shared act of love.4. Walking — Each Step on a Cloud of LightWalking down the street, don’t just hurry from point A to point B.Visualize each step landing on a soft cloud of light —the cloud lifts you and draws out any heaviness from your soles.Behind you, your footsteps leave a trail of luminous dust, weaving a river of brightness.Every place you pass is purified a little, blessed by your quiet presence.When your mind feels restless, slow down and silently repeat:“One step of clarity, one step of light.”You may notice the tension in your body dissolve, replaced by a gentle smile. 5. Sleeping — Returning to the Ocean of LightAt night, before you drift into unconsciousness, don’t let your thoughts scatter until you pass out.Instead, visualize yourself sinking into a vast ocean of light —this is the embrace of your soul’s origin, the place you knew before birth.As your breathing slows, see yourself becoming transparent,daytime emotions and regrets dissolving into the light.Your awareness, like a leaf on a luminous stream, floats into a deep, peaceful dreamscape.6. Extending the Practice — Every Act as CultivationBeyond washing, eating, breathing, walking, and sleeping, you can infuse visualization into countless other daily acts:Opening a door — Imagine you’re stepping through a threshold into a brighter, higher realm. Lighting a lamp or candle — See the light not only illuminate your room, but also ignite a flame in every heart. Tidying your space — Each item you release is like letting go of an old attachment or burden.Closing Thoughts — The Practice is the LifeThe power of visualization is that it turns the ordinary into the sacred.When you truly see the deeper meaning behind an action, you discover:Life itself is the practice.Every drop of water, every bite of food, every breath, every step —all are moments of communion with Heaven and Earth,all are acts of harmonizing your spirit with the rhythm of the universe.In such a life, no moment is wasted,because every moment is aligned with the pulse of the Dao,and every act — no matter how small — is a step toward wholeness.

Visualization in Everyday Life — Turning Ordinary Acts into Sacred Rituals

Why Spiritual Books Are the Most Tangible Asset in a Digital AgeThe material world has one universal law: it decays. Flesh wears down, monuments crumble, empires fade. Even the mountains — those ancient witnesses to our passing — will one day be dust. This is not a tragedy, but a truth. The Dao teaches that form exists only by borrowing breath from the formless; when that breath returns to its source, the form inevitably collapses.The only reason life renews itself is because something beyond the material realm continues to press into it — call it Yuan Qi, call it spirit, call it the breath of the Eternal. Without that influx, all would dissolve into silence and inert matter.This has been the teaching of sages across cultures: the material is the vessel, but not the cause of life. Without the subtle animating force, it is nothing more than an empty shell.The Distillation of GenerationsAnd yet, in every generation, a small number of men and women see beyond the surface. They recognize the pattern of decay, but they also witness the renewal that comes from the unseen. They learn to work with it, live by it, and — most importantly — preserve the knowledge for those who come after.That preservation comes at a cost. The wisdom of a seer is not conjured from air; it is hammered out through decades of study, lived trial, inner cultivation, and often, great personal sacrifice. In ancient times, a single scroll might represent the entire lineage of a teacher, guarded like a relic, passed only to those who proved themselves worthy.Now, for the cost of a coffee, you can hold the distilled sight of many lifetimes. In your hands could be the condensed knowing of sages who saw through the rise and fall of dynasties, who kept the lamp burning when the world was dark. The irony? In an age of infinite access, most will not reach out to take it.What a Few Dollars Really BuysA spiritual book — a true one, not a factory-printed imitation — is not just paper and ink. It is the final form of a current that began long before you were born. When you purchase such a book, you are not “buying content” in the way you buy entertainment. You are receiving a transmission. The author, if they are true to the path, has already paid the real cost in years of devotion, refinement, and the loss of many illusions.That payment you make — those few coins — is a token, a gesture across time. It says: I acknowledge what you carried, and I am willing to carry it now.I have seen this first-hand with my own works. When I wrote The Daoist Art of Medicine, or The Tao of Sleep and Dream, I was not just writing “information.” I was distilling lifetimes of study — not only my own, but the countless lives and hands through which that knowledge had passed before it reached me. The hours, the scrolls, the field work, the translation of archaic scripts — none of it was done for instant applause. It was done so that someone, perhaps decades from now, could find it and be changed.History’s ProofHistory is full of proof that books are among the most durable vessels for truth.When the Library of Alexandria burned, whole worlds of knowledge were lost because they had never been committed to durable form. By contrast, when Daoist monasteries were raided and scattered in the Ming and Qing dynasties, it was the few who smuggled texts into the mountains who ensured that the tradition survived at all.Think of the Dao De Jing. Carved into stone stelae, copied by hand, memorized in verse — it has passed through war, famine, dynastic collapse, and still it speaks as clearly today as when Laozi first put brush to bamboo.Or take the Hermetica. Hidden, rediscovered, translated, and reinterpreted across centuries, it has shaped Western mysticism in ways that most people don’t even recognize. The tangible form of those words outlasted the civilizations that tried to suppress them.Digital Is Not EnoughWe live in a digital age where most of what we consume is gone in a scroll — flicked past, forgotten, deleted. Even the digital “permanent record” is at the mercy of shifting platforms, expiring licenses, and censorship algorithms. An e-book you buy today can vanish from your device tomorrow if a company changes its terms.But a printed book on a true spiritual subject? That is immune to deletion. You can hold it, mark it, return to it decades later, or pass it to a friend who needs it more than you do. In a time when most “possessions” are just rented access, a well-chosen book is one of the few tangible assets of lasting value.Even digital copies of the right kind of books — those stored securely, outside the reach of corporate deletion — can serve as spiritual archives, provided you treat them with the same respect as a physical library.What You Hold MattersWhen you choose to invest in such a book, you’re not only gaining the benefit of its teaching — you’re helping to keep that current of wisdom alive for others. You’re voting, with your attention and your resources, for a world in which truth is preserved and passed forward.And this is the strange blessing of our era: for less than the price of a meal, you can inherit what emperors once sent armies to obtain.You can spend your life buying what perishes, or you can trade coins for what survives decay. In this digital age — where everything is fleeting, deletable, and disposable — a book on a true spiritual subject is one of the most tangible assets you can own. Paper or pixel, it is still a vessel of living spirit.When the noise fades, these are what remain.

The Price of a Thousand Years

pouring water into a glass on a blue background

We’re almost there — just three days to the start of Fasting Camp. Today is about easing your body and mind into the rhythm you’ll need for the days ahead. Two small but powerful adjustments now will make a huge difference once you begin.Reduce Stimulants Cut your caffeine intake by half starting today. If you’re a two-cup coffee person, switch to one — or replace the second cup with herbal tea or water. Your fasting body will thank you with fewer headaches, steadier energy, and an easier transition into a natural rhythm.Emotional Prep Pay attention to the moments when you reach for food out of comfort rather than genuine hunger. These are the habits fasting will bring to the surface. Noticing them now gives you a head start on breaking free — and finding a deeper, calmer relationship with eating.Three days out, we’re not just preparing the body — we’re setting the mind free.

Three Days to Fasting Camp — Lighten the Load Inside and Out

Version Genealogy of Tieban Shenshu: From Qing Dynasty Woodblocks to Modern AdaptationsThe verifiable publication history of Tieban Shenshu stands firmly only from the mid-Qing period onward. The Song attribution to Shao Yong remains legendary; the tangible lineage of printed and circulated texts begins with late imperial woodblock editions and continues through modern reprints, adaptations, and instructional manuals.1. Qing Dynasty Woodblock Lineage By the Daoguang reign (first half of the 19th century), complete sets titled Shenji Miaosuan Tieban Shu (神機妙算鐵版數) were in circulation, often in thirteen juan (volumes). Variants also existed in manuscript form without formal juan divisions. These editions appear in late-Qing bibliographies and are the recognized progenitors of later practical manuals. — How to locate: Search the National Central Library (Taiwan) 古籍特藏系統 for “神機妙算鐵版數”; check Nanjing Library’s 術數類 catalog for “十三卷” and “十四卷” variants; examine private holdings noted in 心一堂’s version notes citing 清中葉刻本 as base text.2. Late Qing to Early Republican Shanghai Lithographic Editions From the late 19th century into the Republican era, Shanghai’s lithographic publishers—廣益書局, 錦章書局, 校經山房, and 掃葉山房—issued widely used “practical sets” of Tieban Shenshu. Common titles included Jiaozheng Tieban Shenshu (校正鐵板神數), Gailiang Tieban Shenshu (改良鐵版神數), and Shenji Miaosuan Tieban Shu. Sets were often in eight volumes (八冊), sold as ready-to-use manuals. The title leaf frequently retained the traditional name even when the cover carried “改良” or “校正.” — How to locate: National Central Library entry for “改良鐵版神數” (noting 石印本、十二集、上海; title leaf Shenji Miaosuan Tieban Shu); Korean National Library KOLISNET entry for “改良鐵版神數 / 邵雍, 掃葉山房” (卷1–8); WorldCat records of 民國 lithographic editions under “Tie ban shen shu” with publisher fields matching “Guangyi” or “Jinzhang.”3. Mid-20th Century Taiwan Scholarly and Commercial Reprints Post-1949, Tieban Shenshu was reprinted in Taiwan, most notably the 1964 Qingchuan Publishing “expanded” edition (Tieban Shenshu Zengding 鐵板神數增訂, editor 陳岳琦). This version, often found in academic collections, became a common base for photocopies and digital reproductions. — How to locate: WorldCat OCLC 645426895; HathiTrust digital record; search “青川出版社 鐵板神數” in the National Taiwan University Library catalog.4. 21st-Century Hong Kong Full-Text Facsimiles Publishers such as Xin Yi Tang (心一堂) have issued “clear print” facsimiles of the Qing woodblock text, e.g., Tieban Shenshu (Qingke Zuben) fu Michao Mima Biao (鐵板神數清刻足本附秘鈔密碼表). These editions explicitly cite the 清中葉刻本 as the base copy, sometimes the “虛白廬藏本.” — How to locate: Heart Sutra Publishing (心一堂) official catalog; MyBookOne HK listing; ISBN searches in Hong Kong Public Libraries OPAC.5. Contemporary Mainland Illustrated &amp; Simplified Adaptations Since the 2000s, PRC publishers have issued accessible versions: illustrated interpretations (圖解), instructional digests (入門), and compendia embedded in “Kangjie Xiansheng Wenji” 康節先生文集. Notable examples include the 2009 Shaanxi Normal University Press Illustrated Yi-ology and Numerology: Tieban Shenshu (圖解易經象數學·鐵板神數). — How to locate: JD.com (京東) product pages; National Library of China ISBN database for “圖解 鐵板神數” or “康節先生文集 鐵板數.”&nbsp; Researcher’s note: This lineage is functional for both bibliographic and field research. Each stage above includes a concrete catalog keyword, institutional collection, or market listing where a physical or digital instance can be verified. Starting from the Qing woodblocks for historical anchoring, through lithographic editions for textual drift, and into modern reprints for accessibility, this genealogy is actionable—allowing a practitioner or scholar to trace, compare, and verify rather than rely on unsubstantiated lore.清·道光年間（19世紀前半） 最早有確證的成套刻印本以《神機妙算鐵版數》之名流通，常見卷數為十三卷，亦有不分卷的鈔本。這一批清刻版本在後來的書目與版本傳承中，被視為近代通行本的源頭。版刻精整，字體工整，內容完整，是追溯原貌的重要依據。清末至民國初（上海石印本盛行時期） 進入清末與民國初期，上海成為術數書籍的印刷與流通重鎮。《鐵版神數》在這一時期出現大量石印「實用套印本」，書名異稱繁多，包括《校正鐵板神數》《改良鐵版神數》《神機妙算鐵版數》等。 常見體例為八卷八冊套本，有時在封面標註新書名，但書名葉仍沿用《神機妙算鐵版數》。典型出版者包括廣益書局、錦章書局等，流通極廣。部分館藏記錄顯示，也存在十四卷等異體版本，反映不同印坊的抽修與合併情況。民國間特殊版本 除了廣益、錦章等書局，還有掃葉山房、校經山房等書坊的重排或鉛印版本，形制、卷次與插圖細節各有差異。掃葉山房版現可於韓國國家圖書館檢索到，卷次為一至八，署名邵雍。這些版本雖屬同一系譜，但在版式與細節上可作版本學對讀。戰後港台整理與影印（1950年代起） 戰後，《鐵版神數》在台港市場出現新一波整理與影印。1964年台北青川出版社出版的《鐵板神數（增訂）》（陳岳琦編校）成為學術與民間研究的常用底本，並被多次影印或收錄至數位資料庫。香港心一堂則在2013年推出《鐵版神數（清刻足本）：附秘鈔密碼表》，以清中葉刻本為底本，重現完整版本，附錄原有秘鈔符號對照，學術價值與收藏價值兼具。當代中國大陸的普及與改編（2000年代起） 21世紀後，大陸市場出現多種「圖解」「入門」「整編」版本，如2009年陝西師範大學出版社出版的《圖解易經象數學·鐵版神數》，以及《康節先生文集·鐵版數》等，偏向普及與商業化的內容呈現。這些版本往往簡化原文，加入大量插圖與白話解說，適合初學者，但在條文完整性與原貌保存上不及足本影印。總結 《鐵版神數》的版本譜系大致呈現為四個核心階段：清道光刻本 — 十三卷或不分卷鈔本，為最早可確證的成套版本。 清末民國石印本 — 以上海為中心，八卷八冊套本最常見，書名異稱多。 民國特色書坊版本 — 如掃葉山房、校經山房等，屬重排或鉛印系。 戰後港台與當代改編 — 青川本、心一堂足本影印，以及大陸的圖解、入門普及版。 每一階段的版本都有其特點與研究價值：早期刻本重在原貌與權威性，民國石印本重在廣泛流通與實用，港台影印本便於保存與研究，而當代改編則擴大了讀者群與普及度。&nbsp;

Fasting Camp

Blog

Confession: I Quit My 21-Day Fast on Day Five

Day 1 — Entering the Gate: My 21-Day Fasting Journey Begins

Visualization in Everyday Life — Turning Ordinary Acts in...

The Price of a Thousand Years

Three Days to Fasting Camp — Lighten the Load Inside and Out

Version Genealogy of Tieban Shenshu《鐵版神數》版本譜系