Each entry gives the term in traditional and simplified form, its pinyin, the senses it carries in the classical corpus, the passages where it does real work, and how published translations have rendered it.
bái yín
A white discharge, named here as the other outcome of the same excess that produces sinew flaccidity. The chapter's grammar is worth noticing: the slackening of the ancestral sinews has two results, and this is the second.
bái hàn
The sweat that closes the reverting-yin passage, and the only treatment in the chapter's second half that is not needling. The one yin governs; true emptiness makes the heart ache; counterflow qi lodges and presses; white sweat breaks out. The instruction is to regulate the food and harmonise the medicine, and to treat at the lower transport points. Commentators differ on what white means — a sweat pale and cold from depletion, or a loan-graph for the sweat of the po — and the base text simply has the one word, so the reading is left open here.
wàng mèng
The wild dreams that follow the reversal of scant qi, and the sign that the spirit has lost its ground. The chapter says 是以少氣之厥，令人妄夢，其極至迷 — so the reversal of scant qi makes a man dream wildly, and at its extreme he is utterly confused. This is not the same as the five viscera' dreams that follow: those have a viscus to name, a colour, a season, and a corresponding dream; this one has no viscus, only a deficiency of qi and a spirit that will not stay in place. The sequence is exact: scant qi, then reversal, then wild dreaming, then at the extreme confusion. It is the point at which a dream stops being a sign and becomes a symptom of the spirit.
láo fēng
The third case: wind taken after exertion, lodged below the lung. It stiffens the neck, dims the sight, brings up matter like snivel, and makes the person loathe wind and shiver. Its outcome is counted in days — three if the great yang can draw the essence up, five in middle years, seven when the essence is not sound — and if the matter like pus is not brought up, the lung is injured and the person dies.
jiǔ fēng
Wind that has entered a body opened by drink: fever, lassitude, profuse sweating, aversion to wind and shortness of breath. The treatment the chapter gives is the earliest surviving formula for it — ze xie and zhu, ten parts each, with mi xian five parts, a three-finger pinch taken after the meal. Two of the three drain and dry; the point is to empty the damp that wine has left behind.
fēng shàn
Wind hernia — 風 fēng, wind; 疝 shàn, a rupture — and this chapter names it five times, once for each of the five depots: 肺風疝、脾風疝、心風疝、腎風疝、肝風疝. All five sit in the same slot of the same scheme — 滑則病X風疝, the slippery pulse, the surplus branch — next to the 濇 branch that gives 積. So the chapter is saying one thing five times: a surplus in the channel, read as a slippery pulse, makes a hernia of wind in the depot that channel belongs to. Which depot belongs to which channel is where this chapter departs from the usual pairing — 少陰 to 肺, 太陰 to 脾, 陽明 to 心, 太陽 to 腎, 少陽 to 肝 — and 丹波元簡 flags it. 厥陰 is the sixth channel and has no depot in the scheme, and correspondingly its hernia is not named for an organ at all: 滑則病狐疝風. There is no standalone 疝 in the chapter; every one of the six is a compound, which is why 疝 itself carries a note rather than a quotation.
fēng jué
The second case of the chapter: heat with sweating, plus a fretting fullness that the sweating does not relieve. The sweating with heat is wind; the fullness that will not resolve is inversion, explained as the shaoyin following the evil upward because it stands inner-outer to the great yang. Unlike yin-yang crossing it is treated — needle both the outer and inner channels and give a decoction.
fēng nüè
A recurring fever with chills attributed to wind. The chapter says it breaks out when sweating is left unfinished, the form is weak, the qi scorched, and the acupoints have closed.
zhòng fēng
One of the two faces of taiyang disease, set against 傷寒. Wind has struck the exterior, the defence is open rather than shut, and so there is fever with sweat, aversion to wind, and a slack pulse instead of the tight pulse of cold damage. The name describes a way of being ill, not a sudden stroke: the book's 中風 is always the external affection, and the prescription that answers it is 桂枝湯.
fēng wēn
A warm evil that shows itself only after sweating: the fever does not break but turns to a scorching heat, with a floating pulse in both yin and yang positions, spontaneous sweat, a heavy body, drowsiness and snoring. The book gives it three lines and one warning — if it is mistaken for cold damage and purged or scorched with fire, the patient is led toward convulsion and death.
fēng shuǐ
What kidney wind turns into when it is needled in spite of vacuity: a water illness with wind. Its long list of signs is the chapter's set piece, and the rest of the text takes them one at a time — the yellow urine from heat in the lower abdomen, the inability to lie flat from disharmony in the stomach, the swelling below the eyes because water and the region under the eyes are both yin, the absent menses because the womb vessel is closed.
fēng xiāo
The first of the two transmissions of disease of the second yang, and the chapter's name for it: 二陽之病發心脾，有不得隱曲，女子不月，其傳爲風消. The second yang is the yangming; the disease begins in the heart and the spleen — the spleen governs the muscles, the heart governs the blood — and what it transmits into is a wasting in which the flesh disperses. 消 is the melting away, and 風 is what does it: the dryness of the qi working on flesh the spleen can no longer fill. The paragraph does not stop there. The same sentence sends the disease on again into 息賁, and of that it says 死不治 — wind-dispersion is the stage at which the patient may still be treated.